1. The Caterpillar Boy
Stiles was seven years old when he first met Derek Hale.
He was concentrating real hard on bending his knees in the right way to do a perfect Plié, like their teacher Charlie was showing them when someone came in late and the teacher had to interrupt the class for a moment to greet the newcomer.
Stiles ignore it all, though. He was too busy looking at his reflection with a deep frown, his tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth, to notice the kid that Charlie settled beside him.
"Your feet are all wrong." Said a voice, once their teacher went back to his place in the middle of the class to show how to do the Plié in first position.
Stiles turned to frown at the kid. "What?"
The kid was a boy, and he had really black hair and big caterpillar eyebrows that for a moment made Stiles forget it all, suddenly feeling the urge to pet them.
The caterpillar-boy pointed at his own feet, oblivious to Stiles' momentary distraction and said, "See, this is the right first position." His heels were touching so that his toes were out to the side.
Stiles' frown deepened and he scowled, losing the position to cross his arms in front of his chest, "How do you know this stuff?" he asked, "You even came late!"
Caterpillar-boy shrugged, "My mom used to teach here, and my big sister does ballet too." He gave him a friendly smile, "I can help you, if you want. I'm Derek." He said holding out his hand the way grownups do.
Stiles gave caterpi– Derek another suspicious look, glancing from his smiley face to his outstretched hand. Finally, he took it. "I'm Stiles," he said jutting his chin out, silently daring him to say something about how weird or stupid his name sounded.
"Stiles." Derek repeated, trying the name out loud. "I like it," he grinned.
Stiles squinted at him, but Derek took back his hand and started to tell him how to turn his feet so that he could do the Plié in the right way.
He finally did it right, after only the second time Derek explained him how to, getting even a pleased smile and a "Good job, Stiles." By Charlie.
Stiles turned his beaming smile to Derek and found him smiling too, and that was the moment he decided that Derek would be his best friend, forever.
2. The Swan and the Prince
By the time he was ten, Stiles had decided what he wanted to spend his life doing.
Dance.
There wasn't anything that made him feel the way ballet did. Being able to communicate with his body in a way that words didn't cut it. There simply wasn't anything like it.
And when he was fourteen he took the first real step, in achieving his dream.
He moved to New York, after being accepted in one of the most prestigious ballet schools in the world, the School of American Ballet. And what made it even better was that Derek was with him.
He didn't even want to imagine how hard it would've been to stay away for so long, and so young from his family and friends, but at least he had his best friend, and when he reminded himself that he was enduring all this, so that he could become a professional Danseur – just as he'd always wanted – it was all worth it.
This year the school had decided to perform the Swan Lake for the end of the year dance recital, and Stiles had been chosen to play Prince Siegfried, the most important male role in the story.
Saying that he was excited for it was an understatement.
He was also a little nervous about it, of course. After all, this was his first important role, and he didn't want to screw it up. He wanted to show and prove to his teachers that he could do this, and that he would be an excellent addition to the company when the time to find a job would come.
So, he trained even harder, scheduling extra time to practice with his Odette, or otherwise named Kira. She and Erica had kind of naturally melded with Stiles and Derek and not long after they knew each other they all had become great friends.
When they were practicing the Pas de deux, (Dance for two) the teachers always tended, to put Stiles and Kira together, so choosing them both as the leads for the final performance of the year was a great relief, since they both knew how to work well with the other.
Derek was assigned the role of the evil sorcerer, Von Rothbart, and since he appeared as an owl in most of the performance, he didn't have to work as hard as Stiles, and often came to watch him and Kira practice.
Stiles wasn't having any big issues with almost any step of his role, but for some reason he couldn't do one of the steps that required him to lift her up. Or, he could do it, it didn't have anything to do with his strength, it just didn't look nice when he brought her down after lifting her up, and he couldn't figure out what he was doing wrong.
"Try to put your hand here, and then lift me up." Kira suggested with a small encouraging smile, as Stiles huffed for the umpteenth time, after watching the way his reflection on the rows of mirrors completely failed at grace.
He nodded, ignoring the sweat pooling at his lower back and took a deep breath before going into position and trying the step again.
"Fuck." Stiles cursed, when it turned out even worse than before, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me, you're perfect and I'm screwing it all up. Shit." He took a step back and pressed his palms against his temples.
"It's okay, Stiles." She tried to sooth him, but he shook his head and walked to the other side of the room, his head still in his hands. Kira sighed, "Maybe, we should take a break." She suggested, "You're stressing about it too much, we'll try again tomorrow."
Stiles tried to protest, saying that he just needed a minute –I can't afford to take a break when I suck this bad, Kira! –but she just took her stuff, exchanged a knowing look with Derek, and walked out the room.
Stiles sighed and slunk down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. His elbow resting on the raised knee as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"She's right, you know."
Stiles turned his head to look at his best friend and shrugged.
"You're thinking about it, too much." Derek continued as he stood up from where he was sitting and walked up to him, settling on the floor beside him.
"Do you know what I'm doing wrong?" Stiles asked, because when he knew that he was making a mistake but couldn't figure out what, Derek was always the one to point it out and helping him to fix it.
Derek poked his forehead. Stiles frowned, his eyes crossing as he tried to look at the finger.
Derek huffed out a laugh and shook his head, "I told you already." He said raising his eyebrows and taking back his finger. Stiles didn't let him though, he held it in his hand and waited for him to continue. "Stop thinking about it, just do it." Derek finished in the soft tone that lately made Stiles' heart beat a little faster.
"Would you show me?" He asked, giving a little squeeze to Derek's hand.
Derek's gaze grew even softer. "Of course," he said, and Stiles tried really hard to remember how to breathe, as they both stood up and Derek started to stretch.
His best friend was so good that he was able to mimic the steps perfectly after only seeing them a couple of times. And the same was as he recreated Stiles' role paces.
People always said that where Stiles was grace, Derek was strength. And he didn't disagree, there was something in the way that Derek moved through the motions, a boldness and confidence that communicated pure strength. But it also had an elegance to it that always left Stiles staring, completely enraptured whenever he saw him dance. And this time was no different.
Derek gestured him to come closer and he went easily. "You're Odette."
"Excuse me?" Stiles arched an eyebrow and Derek rolled his eyes.
"Do you want me to show you, or not?"
Stiles huffed and muttered, "This doesn't feel emasculating at all." Under his breath, but put himself in position in front of Derek as asked. He squinted when he saw Derek trying to hold off a grin from his reflection in the mirror. "You're an asshole." Stiles told him and Derek gave up all pretences, grinning widely at him.
If Stiles wasn't feeling a little irritated, his heart would've probably started the mad, stupid, jumping thing, but as it was now, it just made him feel a flutter in his stomach that he tried to hide by narrowing his eyes at their reflection and saying, "Well, are we starting or wha-"
He was cut off when they finally started to move and Stiles tried to follow Derek while going through his paces.
"I'm going to lift you, now." Derek said, his hot breath tickling Stiles' ear, "Let yourself just feel it, don't think, and you'll be able to do the same with Kira."
Stiles nodded once, knowing that Derek would've seen the tiny movement from the wall of mirrors, or, if not, felt it against his chin.
By the time they finally reached the position, Stiles was completely lost in the music and in the way his body moved in tempo. He felt Derek's firm hands reach for his waist and he closed his eyes, turning his mind off and letting his body move in tandem with Derek's.
To tell the complete truth, it wasn't a really easy part of the choreography, the one that made the lifting had to turn their partner while they were up in the air, but Stiles had no problems, since Kira and Stiles had been practicing together a lot and knew exactly how to work with each other's bodies.
The same was with him and Derek, if not better. After all, they've been going to ballet practices together since they were seven years old. Stiles knew how Derek's body moved as much as he knew his own.
He felt weightless, lifted over his best friend's head. Derek had a hand on the small of his back and the other extended parallel to the floor. Stiles' body arched from where Derek was holding him, his arms drawn-out like they were wings trying to take flight but failing, making him look like an angel (or Swan) falling from the Sky, and Derek the prince catching him.
They moved to the next position effortlessly; Derek's hands warm and firm on Stiles' waist as he lowered him back on the floor, the two of them face to face, barely a couple of inches apart, and Stiles feet touching the floor only by his tiptoes.
He didn't know how long they stood like that, breathing each other's air, his heart beating too wild and fast against Derek's own, as he got lost in his best friend's kaleidoscopic eyes.
He felt warm and safe. He'd known deep down to his bones that Derek would catch him and hold him up, even if Stiles was way heavier than Kira, because Derek was strong. Really strong. His biceps were something to behold considering he was barely a 15-year-old, but then again 7 years of ballet would do that to you… football my ass. Try lifting girls and boys over your head and making it look effortless, but sure. Throwing a ball's cool too.
He finally touched the ground with the whole plant of his feet, but didn't try to move away. Derek's hands were still pressing firmly on his sides, and he could feel the warmth in them reaching every nerve ending in his body.
"Did you…"
Stiles watched erupted how Derek's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and found himself mimicking in return.
"Stiles."
"Yes?" He asked snapping his eyes back to Derek's.
"Do you think you can do it now… with Kira?" Derek frowned. "The move I mean…"
Stiles cleared his throat, suddenly feeling it a bit dry. "Yeah. I think I got it."
"I can show you again if you want to…?"
Stiles smiled brightly up to him and patted his shoulder as he took a step back. "Nah, it's fine. I was thinking too much. You were right." The last statement earned him a cocky smirk and he rolled his eyes. "Okay, yeah, gloat all you want." He took the hand Derek had still on his waist and squeezed. "Thanks."
Derek's grin softened into a small smile. "Any time."
He wasn't sure what exactly was happening to him, but his heart actually skipped a beat, and he tried to cover it up by running to the other side of the room and calling out to Derek to do some basic foot-exercises until Kira came back –or until dinner time, whichever came first.
A nagging voice kept bothering him for the rest of the evening whenever he caught himself lingering his eyes on his best friend for too long, telling him that he was falling for him. But Stiles pushed it away. He had no time to sort out his feelings, he had a dance to prepare.
/
The dance recital came all too soon and at the same time felt like it couldn't come fast enough, as far as Stiles was concerned. He and Kira had maintained their rigorous exercise and rehearsal routine until The Day, and after that practice with Derek he'd been able to recreate the move with Kira almost flawlessly; it actually looked beautiful, finally. But Stiles couldn't help feeling like he wanted It to be more than that. It needed to be perfect.
Maybe he was putting too much pressure on himself –Derek said so, but this dance was a stepping stone if he wanted a decent start in his dance career.
So, yeah, he wanted to come through it thoroughly satisfied with himself and his performance, knowing that it met his expectations and that it couldn't have been more perfect.
And, incredibly, so it was.
By the end of the recital, during the curtain call, Stiles was beaming so wide and bright that his cheeks ached. And when the curtain dropped, he didn't hesitate to throw his arms around Derek.
"You did it!" his best friend told him, breathlessly. "You and Kira were absolutely perfect."
Stiles leaned back to look at him, still beaming and high on happiness. "I would've never done it without you. We did it."
The smile that he got in response made him realise that yes, he was totally in love with his best friend.
3. Heart-aches and Heart-attacks
The signs of the beginning of another summer were making themselves noticed as Stiles stretched in front of one of the many mirrors, in one of the many deserted practice halls, in the boarding school of American Ballet.
In a couple of days he and Derek would leave for the summer vacations and spend the next month with their families, back in dear old, boring Beacon Hills. Home.
He blinked the sweat that had trickled down his forehead onto his lashes, and changed position to bring his right leg onto the stretching bar.
He had always looked forward for it –and this time around was no different, but this year he also happened to be dreading it a little. The reason was simple: Derek Hale.
The last two years have been a… pining-fest as Erica had called it one day, when she had been about done with Stiles' longing stares directed to his best friend.
The truth was that Stiles felt as if he were falling for Derek every single day a little more, and after a year of this he'd promised to himself that he would finally lay his feelings all out in the open for Derek to do whatever he liked with them.
Except, every single time, Stiles had chickened out at the last second.
He'd come really close the previous day, when they had all gone out to dance in a club that Erica had found. It had been awesome night; they were all dancing and Derek had been warm against him, and Stiles had been so close to just tip his head up and kiss him, finally. But then, someone spilled a drink on Stiles and the moment had passed and gone.
So, now the goal was set for when they would be back home.
Stiles would ask Derek to hang out like usual and then, at the right moment he would… he didn't know, exactly. He'd try to tell him or flat out kiss him… that was bound to get the message across, right?
"Stiles?" Derek's voice came across the hall as he poked his head inside, a small nervous smile lighting up his face when he spotted him at the stretching bar. "Hey,"
"Hey," Stiles smiled back, willing his stupid heart to calm down already. "What's up?"
"Can we talk?"
Stiles' heart that had been reluctantly calming down, threatened to fly off his chest now.
Was it possible that maybe…? Maybe, Derek wanted to discuss feelings too? His feelings for Stiles?
"If you're busy…"
Stiles realised only then that he must've stared at him in silence like some kind of ugly fish, and he rushed to say, "no! No, no! You can talk to me, we can talk. Absolutely. A hundred percent free here. Always for you." He closed his mouth shut with a click to stop his nervous babble and looked expectantly at his best friend.
Derek seemed even more pained, though. He made his way toward Stiles as if he'd rather be anywhere but there, moving slowly and hesitantly.
Stiles felt his excitement ebb away to be replaced by uneasiness. He was sure no one would look like that even if they were going to spill their feelings to their best friend.
Plus, he happened to know Derek's faces (and eyebrows) very well.
And that was The Bad News face.
"What's wrong?" he asked as soon as Derek was close enough.
Derek flinched. And okay, now he was seriously worried.
"Derek, is everyone okay?"
"Yes! Yes, everyone's fine." Derek reassured him immediately. "It's not that."
"Then, what?"
Derek bit down on his bottom lip, glancing away. Then, he took a deep breath and said, "I want to study history, Stiles."
Stiles frowned. For a moment his brain was having trouble seeing how that could be bad news. He'd always known that Derek was something of a history buff, it was adorable, really –until, finally, it clicked.
"You're leaving." He breathed, knowing from the look on Derek's face that he was right. "You're leaving me."
"Stiles, no." Derek pleaded. "Don't say that."
"Well, you are!" He knew he was being irrational and unfair but he couldn't help feeling angry and hurt, because Derek had promised him when they were kids. "You promised me! It was always gonna be you and me! And now you're leaving me on my own!"
"That's not true! Kira and Erica will be here still." Derek shot back looking both pissed and hurt. At least the feeling was mutual.
"That's not the same, and you know it." Stiles glared.
Derek glared back for a while and then, he looked away disappointed. "I knew you'd be angry, I just wished you'd understand." His jaw was stiff, sign that he was clenching it. His shoulders were hunched, and his eyebrows were doing that sad thing that they had only done one time before that. When the Hale's dog had died of old age, and Derek had been absolutely devastated.
Stiles felt his heart plummet in his stomach. He hated that look on his face. He was supposed to be always happy, always smiling that sweet crinkly-eyes-smile that Stiles loved so much, not looking like Max was dying all over again. And what was worst is that he, Stiles, had put that look on his face.
Before Stiles could start with rushed apologies though, Derek continued. "I always loved history, you know that," he chanced a quick look toward Stiles and then looked away as fast.
"I know!" Stiles pounced, not being able to restrain himself. "I just thought that it was as filmmaking was for me! A nice fantasy to entertain-"
"Why does it have to be a fantasy?" Derek interrupted, "You never thought about it seriously, because you chose to concentrate on ballet!"
Stiles closed his mouth. That was probably true.
"And I'm not that good here-"
"That's bullshit!" Stiles spluttered. "You're one of the best male dancers here!"
Derek shrugged. "That may be. But I'm not as good as you." He said firmly.
Stiles started to protest again, but Derek quickly cut him off.
"I know I'm fairly good, but you know as well as anyone here that 'fairly good' is not going to cut it in this line of work." He gave Stiles a pointed look when he opened his mouth to contradict him but shut it almost immediately, because yeah, that was actually true.
In ballet you either needed to be the best or you were out.
"And it doesn't bother me, it never did. I always thought of history better."
There was something bothering Stiles in that statement, because then, nothing of this made sense. "Then, why the hell did you even come here? You could've just gone to High School like Scott and Allison! Why did you leave home to come-"
"For you!" Derek cried. "Because I do love ballet, it brought you to me! Because you asked me to! And I was good enough, so why not? But if it weren't for you I would've left ages ago."
His heart shot back into place in his chest, and started the hopeful drumroll. Was this it? "For me?"
"Yeah," Derek looked at him like he were missing a huge obvious point. "You're my best friend. I would've been miserable without you."
And just like that, it was back in his stomach. "Right." He said, forcing his lips to stretch into a smile. From the worried look on Derek's face, he suspected he'd done a poor job and he sighed. "I'm sorry," he said finally, "for what I said. I was a dick. We were kids when you promised to do Ballet with me forever.. Shouldn't have taken that seriously. I just- I was surprised, I guess… I just want you to be happy." His eyes moistened a little and he tried to blink to get rid of unwanted tears, "I really just want that for you. Even if you have to leave here and… me. It's not about me. It's about you and what you love. And if history's what you love, than yes, you have to do what you have to. To become a…" he frowned, thinking. "So, whatcha wanna do?"
Derek's face broke out in that crinkly-eyes-smile that Stiles loved so much and at once his mind was completely made up. "A professor."
Stiles imagined it, then looked down at Derek's clean-shaved face and thought that he'd be the handsomest history professor that anyone would ever have the pleasure to lay their eyes upon. "Then, I want that for you." He said firmly.
Derek smiled softly and closed the distance between them, hauling him in a hug. "You know, I love you too, right?" he said quietly against Stiles' hair. "History is important to me as Ballet is for you, but so are you to me."
Stiles smiled sadly, burying his face deeper in Derek's shoulder. He knew Derek meant the 'I love you' meant for best friends. He rubbed his back and mumbled "I know. I'll just miss you not being here every day…"
"Me too," Derek's arms tightened around him, "so much."
Stiles took a deep, calming breath, breathing in Derek's familiar scent and leaned back. "I expect you to write me every single day, Derek Hale."
Derek grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
Stiles smiled. "Good."
4. Birthday Present
He'd been waiting, all dressed up in the white shirt and jeans Laura had suggested he'd wear for his eighteenth birthday, doing exercises in his room in Beacon Hills when Cora came barrelling in. She took a look at what he was doing and rolled her eyes. "Even on your birthday?" she asked exasperated.
Stiles grinned. "Professionals never rest."
She groaned. "Yes, yes. We know, oh great professional danseur of the American Ballet company. You're a professional!" she mock shouted, "we got it the first ten times you said it. But now let's go and dance for fun. Remember what's that like? Fun?"
"Nah, what's that?" he deadpanned.
Cora snorted, walking up to him and kissing his cheek. "Happy Birthday."
Stiles smiled, still rolling his eyes. "Thanks."
"Okay enough with the cheesy, let's go birthday boy!" Cora pulled him to his feet, grabbing both his hands in hers. "Everyone's waiting!"
They clambered down the stairs, their laughter carrying down to where his mom was reading a battered paperback. She smiled broadly when they made their way to the living room.
"Have fun." She said when Stiles leaned down to kiss her cheek.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Stilinski, I'm the one in charge of the fun part. And he will have fun." She said, shooting a pointed look to Stiles.
He spluttered. "I know how to have fun! I am fun."
"Sure, sure," Cora waved him off. "But you're not allowed to pull any of your fancy moves, just the plain, old jumping-on-the-place-while-groping-each-other kinda dance that everyone our age knows."
Stiles raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and then his mom said. "Well, if anyone's doing the groping on my son, I sure hope it'll be Derek."
The reaction that she got seemed to really please her as Cora burst out in a loud cackle and Stiles turned bright pepper-red and choked out a high pitched "Mom!"
"Oh, Mrs. Stilinski. You're my new favourite person." Cora declared, grinning.
His mom shrugged, still looking very pleased. "It's just… Stiles and Derek have been crushing on each other for ages." She looked at Cora meaningfully.
"Ugh." Cora groaned, "Tell me about it!"
"Hey!" Stiles interrupted when Cora started to say something else, "I'm still here, would you stop talking about me like I'm not?"
They both waved him off and he spluttered, thoroughly offended, now.
Cora grabbed his arm and started to drag him towards the front door when he asked. "And what do you mean with 'crushing on each other?"
His mom and Cora, both ignored him again as Cora called, "see you soon, Mrs Stilinski!" and his mom returned with, "bye! Say hi to Derek and the others from me!"
"We will!" Stiles and Cora called over their shoulders, as he let himself be dragged the rest of the way out.
/
After Derek left New York to come back to finish high school properly with the rest of their old friends, Stiles would've been lying if he'd said that he hadn't resented him a little at the beginning. The part that loved him and wanted the best for Derek had won immediately, after they had the conversation when Derek had explained how he felt about history. But still, that ugly, unwanted side of him, resented Derek when he'd gone back to New York on his own.
Suddenly, everything he could notice were all the things that Derek had done and won't do anymore with Stiles at boarding school; waking up each other in the morning, doing stretches together, exchange inside jokes about the teachers, waiting for each other to change so that they could go have their meals together. All these things, Stiles had to learn to do on his own, or get used to do them with Erica and Kira and try to not miss Derek too much.
The first few months were hell. But Derek had kept his promise and called him pretty much every day, and every week Stiles would get a letter from him as well.
The following year, he'd made up his mind about Derek leaving ballet. His best friend had made the right choice, because every time Stiles saw him talk excitedly about the history courses he'd been taking in college, he couldn't help but fall for him a little more. Because Derek was happy. And that was all he truly wanted for him, and beside if anything, distance seemed to have made their friendship even deeper.
So yeah, he was still, very in love with his best friend, and it all made him unquestionably nervous when he and Cora got to the club where his friends had decided to celebrate him on his birthday.
As soon as the others spotted them arriving, Laura came bounding on them with a grin on her face so big that could've easily blinded anyone (And considering the DJ that stumbled on the wires, it probably did). "You're finally here!" she hugged Stiles tight, and immediately held him back to throw a funky-looking fake-flower garland over his neck. "Happy Birthday!"
Stiles looked down at the garland, and then back up at Laura with a raised eyebrow.
She grinned even wider after throwing a similar one over Cora's neck –on which she heartily glared at. "You like them? Erica and I saw them while we were doing shopping for the party, and thought they would be a nice touch."
Stiles snorted, glancing at Cora's harassed expression and beamed back. "I love them."
Laura laughed and pulled them both deeper into the club. Stiles saw the rest of his friends –including Derek- were sitting around a very large round table –all wearing the garlands around their necks, and felt his heart stammer the usual way it always did whenever he saw his best friend.
Derek got up, in all of his bottle-green-shirt (that brought out the colour of his eyes) -and-jeans-with-a-hibiscus-flower-garland-thrown-over-his-neck glory, probably to wish him a happy birthday, but was preceded by Erica who threw her arms around Stiles and started to yell the 'Happy Birthday' song, promptly joined by the others.
After that, it was a flourish of food and birthday cake and presents; Lydia got him a huge box filled with elegantly folded shirts with all kinds of plaid patterns ("Woah, thanks Lyds!" "I know how much you love wearing them, thought you'd wear something of quality at least."); Kira and Erica went all out in sentimentality and gave him a photo album containing pictures of them, Stiles and Derek when they were still all at Ballet School ("Oh, babe, don't cry!" Erica smiled a little wobbly. "I'm not!" Stiles said sniffling as he turned the pages and pointed at some half crying half laughing); Laura and Cora got him the complete series of all the Star Wars books and movies on which Stiles flailed so much he knocked over his coke and made some of the girls screech with him ("I LOVE YOU. Ohmygod I LOVE YOU. MARRY ME!" Cora rolled her eyes, but still smiled. And Laura just grinned, glancing quickly at Derek and then away to wink at Stiles.) Scott and Allison got him what probably was the most unexpected present, but as awesome as the rest; two tickets for the Nutcracker performed by The Royal Ballet. He stared owlishly at the two shiny tickets completely at loss of anything to say unless you counted the whispered "HOLY SHIT" it seemed to please them, considering that Allison laughed and Scott grinned.
When, Derek's turn came he blushed profusely and told him that he'd give his present later. At which Erica and Cora wiggled their eyebrows, looking from Derek to Stiles; Kira and Allison clapped their hands once, smiling pleased; Laura elbowed Derek with a knowing smirk to which Derek elbowed back and scowled. Only Scott seemed to be as clueless as Stiles felt, bless him.
The dancing started soon after that. Allison got to her feet and beckoned Scott to go dance with her, and soon Stiles was being dragged onto the dance floor by a grinning Laura. He turned to look at Derek (it had become second nature after so many years, that he barely even realised he did it at all) and found him huffing exasperated, a smile betraying him though, as Erica and Kira dragged him to dance, too.
Stiles, didn't pull any of his 'fancy' moves but just limited himself to jump on the place and move his body according to the one in front of him. His friends were all dancing around him, their laughter and shouts as they talked over the loud music filling the private room of the club. Stiles could easily say that it was his best birthday ever.
Then, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find himself face to face –or more like chest to chest for how close they were standing to each other – with Derek.
Derek took Stiles' hand and made him take a spin –which Stiles did laughing – for then pull him flush against him again. As they moved together, not bothering to get some distance between them, Stiles thought, that for how much he'd always got fluttering butterflies in his stomach whenever he saw Derek at first, right now he felt as being this close to him was the most natural thing in the world.
Derek seemed to remember something then. He pulled slightly back, just enough so that he could put his hand in the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out something.
Stiles looked up at Derek with a smirk, "Is that my present?"
"Uhm… yeah…" he said, a little nervously.
"You know, I'll love whatever you'll give me." Stiles said, sincerely.
It was enough to make Derek unfold his fingers and show what was laying in the palm of his hands.
At first, Stiles thought that it was a Star Wars silver plaque-like pendant, just noticing the familiar typography, but then realised that it was actually a little silver plaque with STILES engraved in the iconic Star Wars typography.
"Laura, Cora and I coordinated, going for the Star Wars theme," Derek mumbled, in explanation.
Stiles had stopped moving to ogle at the pretty pendant and then looked up to Derek to tell him how much he loved it, but was cut off when his best friend leaned down to kiss him on the lips.
Stiles was so surprised that he'd barely started to respond to it when Derek leaned back to whisper, "Happy Birthday," against his lips.
Stiles bit his lip, smiling a little. "You know what would make this birthday even sweeter?"
"What?" Derek arched an eyebrow.
"If you kissed me again."
"Then, what are we waiting for?" Derek asked, his features softening in the sweetest smile.
Stiles felt Derek's smile on his own lips and he thought that now he knew what happiness tasted like.
5. Picking up the pieces
"Are you sure, I can be here?"
Stiles grinned, and stood on the tip of his toes, still holding both of his boyfriend's hands in his own, and kissed him softly on the tip of his nose. "Yes," he said for what seemed the tenth time. "No one comes here, plus it's not like you're competitions or something. So, even if someone came and found you, they wouldn't have anything to say."
"Okay," said Derek, finally, allowing himself to be pulled inside the training hall.
His boyfriend sat on the floor cross-legged and stared up at Stiles with a soft smile. This was definitely not the first time Derek had assisted one of Stiles' training sessions, but it was the first time he'd come back to the ballet school in New York, after he'd left to go back in Beacon Hills, six years ago. After high school, he'd easily opted to go to a college in the city Stiles was, so that they would finally live together again. And since then, Stiles could've easily said that he had everything he'd ever wished for. He was one of the best dancers the company had ever had, and he could finally wake up next to the love of his life every morning.
"What?" Derek asked him, curiously, catching the dreamy grin on Stiles face.
Stiles shrugged, enjoying the pull of the muscles as he stretched, "Just- I'm happy."
Derek's gaze softened. "Me too."
It's incredible how everything can change so suddenly. One instant, and your life as you know it is changed forever.
All Stiles knew was that one moment he was watching himself, carefully, as he raised himself on the tip of his toes, and the next he was on the floor, a blinding pain coming from his left foot.
Derek was behind him, holding him, saying something that Stiles couldn't hear. Derek's voice seemed so far away, and he couldn't think at all, he could just feel the pain in his foot that somehow seemed to have expanded to all of his body.
"Stiles, shhh. It's gonna be alright." Derek was telling him softly, above the ringing that had filled Stiles' ears.
It's then that he realised that he was crying, his face hidden in the crook of Derek's neck. And he realised he'd been also saying something, over and over again.
"It's hurts Derek, it hurts, it hurts."
/
At some point he must've passed out, because then he found himself waking up in a room that he assumed was in an hospital, judging by the harsh smell of bleach, the sound of steady drip of a saline and the pastel green of the walls in front of him.
Something moved in the corner of his eye, and shifting his gaze he found Derek looking down at him. His eyes were red rimmed, and his hair were sticking in every direction like he'd run his hands through them one too many times. Stiles watched, feeling a bit numb as his boyfriend seemed to force a small smile onto his lips and say, "hey."
Stiles smiled back, squeezing the hand –that he realised then, was clasped around his. "Hey." He tried to turn more comfortably towards Derek, but felt as if something was weighing down on his left leg. He looked down at it and found it heavily bandaged, "my leg." He stated simply, not knowing what exactly he wanted to ask – too afraid.
"Stiles," Derek started hesitantly, and Stiles knew then, but at the same time pushed the thought away. It couldn't be. It couldn't be.
Then a doctor came in, Derek sucked in a breath beside him and Stiles felt the bottom of his stomach drop, when he saw the pitying look on the man's face.
He heard the words that explained the reason behind the bandages on his injured leg. A laceration of the calf muscle tissue due to a badly splintered bone that had needed immediate surgery.
Stiles stopped listening after the doctor said that in a year he would be able to walk almost normally. The ringing in his ears had started again, but this time there wasn't blinding pain to make him pass out. There wasn't anything that would help him escape what was already there, what he couldn't put off anymore. The realisation that he could never dance professionally again was upon him and he couldn't do anything but let it wash over him.
He glanced at Derek, who had an odd expression on his face; he looked like he wanted to get up and shut the doctor up, but at the same time he seemed so sad that Stiles couldn't even compare it to the look of when Max had died or when Stiles had gotten angry when he'd said he wanted to leave ballet. It looked so much worse. And Stiles realised, seeing the red-rimmed eyes again, that Derek had been crying. He must've told the doctor about Stiles' career and obviously been told what Stiles was being told now.
Derek probably wanted to tell him himself, break it to him gently.
But was there really a gentle way of telling someone that their lifelong dream was forever shattered?
Maybe it was better like this. The almost detached voice of the doctor-man made it impersonal, impossible to ignore, but easier to accept, in a way. He imagined Derek breaking down as he explained it to him, how his injury was one of those that dancers feared the most, the kind that ended careers. He didn't think he would've been able to space out like this, Derek always centred him, always pulled Stiles' whole attention onto him, for better or worse. He would've seen reflected in Derek's eyes how broken he felt, because Derek knew how he would feel, he knew how much ballet was important to him, and now it was all gone.
Ballet teachers always told their students to have other options, to prepare for the worst, have a back-up plan. And Stiles had been one of those that had thought that would've picked up teaching if that was to happen. He'd never given it much thought, though. Dancing was everything he'd ever wanted, and he'd thought the universe would give him that if he worked hard enough. Now, the thought of teaching a bunch of kids something that he'd loved so much and that had been snatched away so abruptly from him, made his stomach churn.
"I'm sorry."
Stiles tuned back in then. The doctor gave him something that he thought was supposed to be a smile and then walked out the door, closing it behind him. And he was left alone with Derek again.
An unwelcome feeling coupled with really shitty thoughts started to make their way into him. Derek didn't say anything for a while, and this gave Stiles the time to dwell in them. He thought of how Derek would have to basically take care of Stiles now, deal with the fact that Stiles' life has gone astray while also having to study so that his dream didn't go to shit.
He suddenly had a very vivid vision of Derek telling him that he couldn't do that anymore, having to deal with Stiles depression and working and studying, and felt something in him shatter in the same way his dream had.
"I called your mom-"
"I don't want to see you again."
They say at the same time.
There was a stunned silence and then,
"I don't want you." Stiles said, before Derek could.
"Stiles." Derek's voice sounded hoarse.
Stiles looked away.
"I know what you're doing," Derek said, now sounding angry, "and I won't let you push me away."
"Yes, you will!" Stiles burst out. "I don't need you! Go away! I don't want you. Leave me alone!"
Derek had gotten up just as the door of the hospital room he was staying at burst open; two really worried nurses stepping in.
"I don't want to see you again." Stiles said, more quietly, turning away from Derek, again.
"I think you'll better go, love." A kind voice said at the door.
There was silence; Stiles closed his eyes tightly shut, and then heard the sound of Derek's familiar steps, walking out of the door.
/
He didn't know how long he laid awake; it could've been the whole night or a few hours. His mind went blank whenever it came too close of thinking about Derek which, unfortunately, happened so frequently that Stiles ended up just staring blankly at the ceiling all the time. It didn't help that when he'd turned on his side, at one point, he had realised that he didn't have his silver chain around his neck anymore. They had probably took it off when he went into surgery, and an inspection inside the drawer of the bedside table told him that it was likely that Derek had it… and he didn't want to think about that either, how this made their break up even more definitive.
At some point, he must've fallen in a dreamless sleep, though, because when he woke up, his parents were there.
"Mom?" Stiles asked, squinting up at his mom.
"Hey, sweetheart," she answered back, a small, tired smile on her lips.
He turned to look at his dad on the other side of his bed. "Hey, kiddo. You scared the hell outta us." His dad said, hauling him in a hug.
And just like that, Stiles broke down. Everything coming out of him like he were a broken dam.
"I broke up with Derek, I don't' have anything anymore,"
His mom and dad held him tight, his mom having joined his dad in hugging him. They made shushing sounds, telling him that everything would be okay again, like they had done when he'd been a little kid and come home with scrapes on his knees.
"Everything will be okay, you'll be okay."
/
They took a Taxi to go back to Stiles and Derek's apartment, when the doctors gave him the okay to go back home.
Just a glance inside could tell him that Derek wasn't there – their coffee mugs were still in the sink, Derek's pyjama bottoms were on the floor an inch from the laundry basket – and the realisation that he hadn't come back since the day of the accident fell over him like a ton of bricks.
He thought that he must've made some sort of sound, because then his mom was rubbing his back, soothingly. "He's staying at Laura's."
Stiles nodded, not knowing what to say, and stepped inside.
Laura had moved to New York a year after Derek had moved back to Beacon Hills. She'd been great company when Stiles was still moping around about all the ways he'd missed Derek. Now she probably hated him. Stiles didn't blame her.
Spending the night in his own bed was, in equal parts, a huge relief but also a new kind of torture. The problem consisting in the fact that this wasn't just Stiles' bed but also Derek's. And lying there, reaching for someone that wasn't going to be there, only made him miss him more and making him realise that he fucked up, bad.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Yeah?"
"May I come in?" His mom asked, poking her head inside.
Stiles smiled. "Of course,"
He waited for his mom to settle comfortably beside him, laying on Derek's side of the bed. She turned to face him, her warm brown eyes considering him thoughtfully. "Have you talked to Derek?"
Stiles looked away. "No,"
"I'm gonna tell you something now, you listen to me, okay?" she said, after a brief pause.
Stiles nodded.
"Derek was there when we came to the hospital. He told us, you broke up with him, said that he'd stayed because he didn't know how to leave you-"
Stiles made hurt noise then, and his mom squeezed his hand.
"Laura came then, and she took him away." She broke off for a moment, then continued. "He loves you. I know that as I know that you love him."
"Mom-"
"No, wait, I'm not done," she cut him off. "I know you think you lost everything, I know how important ballet is to you, but that's not everything. You have so many other things that you love and so many people that love you and that wouldn't hesitate to help you if you just asked. And I know there isn't anything that Derek wouldn't do for you."
"I just don't want to be a deadweight to him, mom." Stiles said softly.
"I think Derek would be really pissed off if he could hear you now, I'm offended on his behalf to be honest." His mom said, matter of fact.
Stiles scowled. "I don't want him to hurt because I hurt! It's not fair! He deserves someone that doesn't feel like a little push is enough to break them, he deserves more than me."
He looked at his mom when she didn't say anything for a while; she looked furious. But in the end, just said, "You're hurting him worse now, pushing him away when all he can think about is you and how much he misses you."
That said, Claudia got up, leaned down to kiss Stiles on the forehead and saying "goodnight" left him alone in his room, again.
Stiles turned into Derek's side, just vacated from his mom, and breathed in in the light scent of Derek's, still lingering in his pillow; something having eased in his chest, at some point of his conversation with his mom. Maybe not everything was lost, yet.
/
He'd been preparing himself for the worst, since the moment he'd struggled to get inside the taxi that would've taken him to Laura's place. But he still was a bit surprised and intimidated by the scowl on Laura's face, when he got out of it with his clutches.
"Where are your parents?" she asked, her eyes darting behind him like she expected them to come out from the vehicle, too.
"It's just me."
Her eyes focused back on him and the scowl on her face seemed to worsen. "You did a really shitty thing to Derek there, you know?" she said, going straight to the point.
Stiles hadn't expected anything else. It wasn't like Laura to cut around the bushes, but still, it made something in his stomach quiver. "I know," he said softly. "And I'm sorry."
Laura's shoulders seemed to lose some of the tension. "You hurt him," she said, adopting his soft tone of voice. "I get that you felt like you were alone, but you're wrong. He's your family, as am I, and Cora and our parents. We're family, too. You hurt and we hurt too, okay?" she closed the distance between them, reaching out to grip his shoulders firmly. "Pushing us away, it's just a way of hurting us more. I just want you to understand that."
"I know, now." Stiles said.
It was good enough for Laura, as she pulled him in a hug and didn't let got for a while. "Dammit Stilinski, I missed you."
Stiles smiled. "I missed you too."
Leaning back Laura's scowl made another appearance as she looked down at his clutches and bandaged leg. "How did your parents let you come here on your own?"
"I wanted to do it alone, Lo." Stiles raised his eyebrows, giving her a significant look.
She pursed her lips, but nodded in the end.
He had barely set foot inside, when he saw Derek at the end of the corridor. They both froze, Laura mumbled, "I'll leave you two to talk…" and disappeared.
Stiles had never had an uncomfortable silence with Derek – it just wasn't like them to not know what to say – and yet, here they were.
"Hey," Stiles said, in the end.
"Hi," replied Derek, a bit stiffly. "Do you wanna sit?" he asked then, eyeing the clutches.
"That would be awesome, yeah, thanks."
Derek nodded, leading him to the living room and Stiles sat down on the couch. When he looked up, he noticed Derek hovering, like he'd wanted to help, but wasn't sure if it would be welcome.
"I'm sorry, Derek" Stiles blurted out. "I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean any of it, I just- I feel like I lost a huge part of my identity, but I realised I'm not who I am just because of dancing, but because of you too, and I can't do this without you, I lost ballet, I can't lose you too."
Derek kneeled down in front of him, so that he could look him in the eyes. "Stiles. I'm not going anywhere, I will be with you, always. As long as you decide to keep me."
Stiles let out a sob. "I should ask you to keep me, Der. I feel so fucking lost and broken."
Derek pulled him in his arms and held Stiles in the way he had ached since that day in the hospital. "I will always want you, Stiles. And if you'll let me, I'll help you build yourself up again."
Stiles didn't know what to say to that, so he settled to hug him tighter and say, "I love you."
Derek's reply was prompt and without a trace of doubt. "I love you, too."
6. A Happy New Beginning
"… I say: fucking finally!" there were cheers and laughter and Erica bowed appreciatively, before going on. "Seriously, those two have been in love since they were fourteen and finally after other fourteen years, we're finally here. Couldn't be happier for you two." She finished, raising her champagne flute towards them with a wobbly smile. "I love you." She mouthed.
Stiles and Derek mouthed it back.
The air was filled with the happy sound of clinking glasses, chatter and laughter; a warm golden glow surrounding everything in front of him. It was kind of surreal to be here, to be honest, living one of the milestones of his life. They've gone through so much together already, and that was just the start, a whole new chapter would start after today, and Stiles couldn't wait. As long as Derek would be by his side, he could take on anything.
His daydreaming was interrupted when they announced that it was time for the first dance of the newlyweds.
Derek was smiling his sunshine smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners, when he pulled Stiles onto his feet and to the dance floor. His leg was completely healed since the accident of seven years ago, so he had no problem in training for his and Derek's slow dance. Even healed though, he was nowhere near been able to take up professional dancing again, but as it happened Stiles started focusing on another dream, and as much he missed Ballet sometimes, he didn't miss it as much as he thought he would.
It was how Derek had said so many years ago, that Ballet had been to him what it had, only because Stiles chose to focus on it. There were plenty of other things that he loved doing. And if he realised that, it was mainly because of the man in front of him.
"I'm so glad you corrected my Plié twenty-one years ago." He told Derek, as they swayed together.
Derek grinned. "Your feet were all wrong."
Stiles' laugh bubbled up from him and joined Derek's as he spun him and caught him again.
Yeah, forever with his best friend sounded pretty good.
7. A Happy Middle.
"DAAADDYYYYYYYY"
"PAAAAAAPAAAAAAA"
As soon as the door opened, the twins came rushing in, leaving a cacophony of yells and laughter in their wake; Claudia stepped inside with a huff.
Tommy and Daisy found their parents waiting for them and threw themselves at them as they started their excited chatter.
"Guess what we did today!"
"It was so fuun!"
"And the teacher was so cool!"
They said jumping on the place; Tommy started flapping his arms doing laps around Stiles and Derek, Daisy settled to spinning on the place in front of them. One thing was sure, they had gotten Stiles' inability to talk while staying put.
"So what did you do?" Derek asked, amusedly.
"We'll show you!" Daisy said, grabbing one of their hands in both of hers and pulling; Tommy joining her after a second and helping to pull their parents into their living room.
Stiles and Derek watched with a small, happy smile as their twins showed them how to do a Plié in first position.
"Un, deux, trois, pliè!"
[Fin]