As Promised:
"No, I'm just saying he doesn't actually have any super powers so how can he be a real super hero?"
Stiles gawked at him with horror, "Oh my God, you're not joking! Because he's fucking BATMAN that's why he's a super hero." Stiles covered his eyes with the heels of his hands, rubbing them in exasperation. "I just—he's Batman, Derek! Batman!"
"Superman would completely kick his ass," Derek told him seriously. "He'd break him like he was made of glass."
Stiles mock gasped, clutching at his heart.
Derek raised his eyebrows in a way that Stiles deemed exceptionally judgmental.
Stiles stuck out his tongue in retaliation, making Derek roll his eyes but a small smile crack across his face. "You just don't understand."
"I really don't," Derek agreed. "I never understood a lot about 'superheroes.'"
Stiles cocked his head to the side, intrigued now. He saddled closer to Derek, mimicking the eyebrow raise that Derek was so fond of bestowing. "Like what?"
Derek scowled, "like secret identities. Why does Superman really need to keep it a secret? Who the hell could actually hurt Superman? It's stupid."
Stiles shook his head like he was disappointed in Derek. "Derek, babe, sugar, Derrykins—" He was swatted at for his efforts but Stiles ducked to avoid the arm Derek pushed towards him. Stiles laughed at him. "Look, you're missing the point. For one, Superman wouldn't be able to live a normal life if everyone knew the truth. No one would treat him the same way. He deserved some privacy, so he made another identity."
"Like using a pen name," Derek commented, throwing Stiles completely.
It was times like this that Stiles wondered if Derek somehow knew. It was that or Derek had an unhealthy obsession with C. Sparks, which Stiles couldn't help but be pleased with. "Are you comparing Sparks to a Superhero?"
Derek just shrugged, seemingly more interested in staring at Stiles' lips than continuing the conversation. Stiles rolled his eyes but pushed towards Derek to kiss him quickly and then murmur, "Batman is awesome."
Stiles rubbed at his eyes, leaning back and yawning while trying to see the clock on the wall. He stretched his arms over his head and tiredly smacked his lips. It was well into the night, and Stiles was starting to get extremely tired.
But Alexander was wide awake and in the middle of a fight so there really wasn't any use trying to go to sleep until after he'd finished writing the scene.
Since he could use a break however, Stiles stood slowly, twitching as his joints creaked. He made his way through the apartment, sleepily trying not to trip over everything. He managed not to fall face first into the floor but did stumble several times until he was in the kitchen. Fumbling hands succeeded in get ahold of a cup and he retrieved a full glass of water.
"It's not about what's worth dying for," he whispered to himself before taking a sip of his water, pushing his hip against the counter to lean. "It's about…It's not about what's worth dying for, it's what we're willing to live for that matters." He nodded a few times, squinting at the dark like he was daring it to criticize his line. He continued to mutter the line to himself as he wandered back towards the glow of his laptop where it rested at the desk.
Nimble fingers tapped at the keyboard, making the life in Stiles' head spill across the screen. Another quick peak at the clock on the wall lead Stiles to believe he was probably not going to sleep tonight. The world of shifters was overruling the real world at the moment. Alexander's life was taking precedence over Stiles' because Stiles knew if he tried to sleep he wouldn't be able to. His mind was too busy thinking about the feel of claws against a forearm to allow him to sleep.
Stiles figured something to drink could probably make sleep a little easier to get, but Stiles wasn't that kind of guy. It wasn't worth it. He had to get it out of his system if he wanted to crash.
He would probably be rather useless tomorrow. Good thing he was just hanging out with Derek.
Derek. It was sort of unreal and unbelievably perfect at the same time. In some ways, Stiles couldn't imagine them not being together now. Derek was perfect for Stiles in every way. Derek was willing to listen during his tangents and word vomits, but he accepted silence as well, understood the need for complete silence during reading and writing time.
And Derek didn't ask questions. He never asked what Stiles was doing with the laptop anymore. He never tried to snoop. He just let it go and didn't seem at all offended that Stiles wasn't jumping to show him.
It made Stiles want to tell him the truth.
With Derek, it wasn't about anxiety, Stiles was too comfortable around him. When it came to Derek it was about proving himself.
Yeah, Stiles got that it was stupid, but Derek was perfect for Stiles in every way. Stiles wanted to show Derek how perfect he was for him too. Stiles fit into Derek's life like the two of them had been molded together. Fear held him back, and a bit of habit.
Stiles shook his head, regaining focus. He shut his eyes for a moment, concentrating on what he was trying to say, before painting the image across the page. He could see it, behind his eyelids.
There was so much blood, it splattered across trees, and dripped onto the forest floor. It was dark and red and sticky and just the thought of it was enough to make Stiles' stomach churn. Amongst all the blood, all the vacant stares from lifeless bodies, all the devastation, stood Alexander.
Stiles could see the look on his face, the pure helplessness, emptiness, fear. And then the way that he shifted his stance and cleared his throat, like he could make all the fear just melt away. But the loss stayed, the sadness clung to him like it was a part of him.
Stiles sighed, letting his fingers release it all outward.
He's had nightmares about this scene, spent hours thinking about it, but writing it made it more real. It didn't matter that it was his work, or that he controlled the story because he wrote Alexander's pain like he was feeling it himself, because in some ways, he was. Alexander was real to Stiles, a real person in a real world where real things—terrible things, were happening.
Alexander had pain; he knew prejudice and disgust from a people who weren't so different from him. He knew power and responsibility. He had been hunted down like a dog, and he had been hailed as a hero. He saw and he learned and he understood. He was no king, he was just a boy, and he was what the people needed.
Stiles didn't write because he loved it. Loving the writing was a bonus. Stiles wrote because the stories played in his head as the hours passed, the words—the words of his characters—echoed through his brain. He wrote because it was like a painting, an image in his head he wanted on paper but he used words instead of color.
Stiles wrote because Alexander had a story to tell.
"Stiles?" Scott croaked, leaning on the doorway to his bedroom. "I think you should go to sleep."
Stiles blinked at the clock and then nods stiffly. He'd been just sitting there, staring at the screen for a while. He chuckled lowly, standing up. "Yeah, yeah I'm going."
"Did you save it?" Scott inquired as he turned and trudged back into his room, precautious even half asleep.
"Yeah," Stiles replied with a faint smile. He auto piloted to his bedroom and feel face first into his bed, falling asleep as his eyes fell shut.
When Stiles woke again it was peaceful. From the sound of it, Scott was already working at his computer in his room, speaking loudly on the phone with someone. "Page 321….yeah, that's the start of the—"
But Stiles was tired and didn't care enough. He sat up slowly, stretching outwards like a cat and groping around for his phone. He couldn't help but smile down at it.
Derek: You coming in today?
Derek: Stiles?
Derek: You still alive?
Stiles: I'm alive! Sorry, slept in
Derek: Stiles. It's noon.
Stiles: I know I know. Late night
Derek: Want another one?
Stiles nearly choked, a surprise bubble of laughter erupting from him. But before he could reply he received another message.
Derek: I meant like a movie night. Jesus.
Derek: But that works too
Stiles: Derek you're going to kill me. Fuck
Derek: Later
Stiles: Omg does this qualify as sexting? Is Derek Hale sexting me?
Derek: I'm not sexting.
Derek: I'm making plans
Stiles: Glad to be included
Derek: You wanna get lunch together?
Stiles: Is that a euphemism?
Derek: No. It's a meal
Stiles: Yeah :) See you at 1?
Derek: yes
Derek tucked his phone away, smirking around.
"Talking to Stiles?" Erica questioned, leaning in towards him.
"Mhmm," Derek answered, leaning back in the makeup chair, waiting.
Erica pulled herself in front of Derek, leaning her back against the counter so she was facing him. "He coming in today?"
Derek looked up slowly, not bothering to hide the smile, "Just for lunch. He's busy."
"What does he do, anyway?"
Derek shrugged, "no idea."
"You're dating him," Erica said slowly, her eyebrows rising. "How do you not know?"
Derek blinked over at her, "We just don't talk about it."
"Okay, so he's probably like a spy or something, right?"
Derek barked a laugh, staring incredulously at her serious face, "What?"
"Yeah," she said nodding, agreeing with herself. "He totally works for the government."
Derek rolled his eyes, "Stiles is not a spy. I mean, it's Stiles. It's a ridiculous theory and then you tack the fact that it's Stiles onto it."
"Okay, so what does he do?"
"I don't know…not that," Derek shook his head laughing. "You're as random as he is."
Erica put her hands up in a surrender of sorts, "I'm just saying." She winked then, showing her amusement.
"You remind me of Laura sometimes," Derek told her, shaking his head.
Erica grinned, "Well Laura's great! She met Stiles, didn't she?"
"Yeah," Derek nodded, "she's nosy."
"But you haven't told the rest of your family about Stiles, huh?" Erica inquired, raising an eyebrow at him.
Derek shrugged, "Laura and I have always been there for one another. The rest of my family is more…complicated. You've met my parents, you know how they are."
"Never thought I'd ever meet someone who could walk all over you," Erica muttered.
"Hey!" Derek glowered at her. "They're just…my parents. They don't listen; they just judge and try to run my life. I guess that's what I like about Stiles, he always listens and he doesn't question my choices or…" he tossed his arms up lightly, "he's just Stiles."
"Must be love," Erica giggled, her eyes flashing wild with glee as Derek scowled. She bit her lip then, almost hesitant in a way that wasn't natural on her face. "Actually, I uh—wanted your advice about something."
Derek raised an eyebrow slowly. "What kind of something?"
"Well a…personal something—a someone, rather."
Derek let out an exasperated sputter, "You're not seriously coming to me for relationship advice!"
"Hey!" She frowned at him. "Look, it's just that things with you and Stiles are going so well and I'm sure as hell not talking to Lydia…I—please?"
Derek rolled his eyes, blaming Stiles for his new found heart. "Okay, what is it?"
Erica beamed, sliding closer to him, "Okay, well there is this guy…and I really like him but I don't know if he likes me—"
"He does," Derek interrupted, taking a drink from his water bottle.
"You don't even know who I'm talking about," Erica swatted at him. "But thanks for the vote of confidence. I want to ask him out but I don't want…I mean if he's going to say no—"
"Erica," Derek cut her off again. "Boyd, right?"
Erica paused to gape at him, whipping her head around while going red in the face. "I—how did you—" She blinked rapidly at him and then recollected herself. "You're kidding me, right? I am not obvious, no way. There is no way that unobservant, uncaring Derek noticed I was crushing on someone."
Derek cleared his throat, rolling his eyes, "You're right. I'd never pay attention to something like that. But Stiles has an eye for detail."
Erica's jaw dropped, and then hardened, "that little shit."
"He wasn't actually positive how you felt about Boyd," Derek continued, ignoring her but somewhat agreeing with her, "but he's pretty positive Boyd is head over heels for you."
Erica looks taken aback at that, like she wants to believe him but she's desperately trying to be "smart enough" to know better. Instead she looks away, narrowing her eyes and rolling them at the same time in a way perfected by her sheer Ericaness. "Pfft. Yeah, right."
Derek just huffs, scratching a hand through his hair. "I'm not really in the game of messing with people and their emotions."
Erica gives him a harsh set of side eyes and then relaxes slightly, "good God, is this what love does to people? You're not the Derek I remember."
"That a bad thing?"
"No," Erica replies thoughtfully, standing up straight to fix the rumple in her shirt and check her face in the mirror. "It suits you. Happy looks good on you."
"And then she asked me what I did for a living," Scott explained. "So I told her I worked for a publishing company. But I don't think she made the connection. I swear she doesn't know."
Stiles nodded, trying to stay calm about that. "Okay, that's alright. I mean, its Allison anyway. She wouldn't tell anyone."
Scott looked at Stiles then, moving his jaw from side to side as he thought. "Have you told Derek yet? I mean, you said you wanted to tell him."
"Yeah," Stiles agreed, then scowling at nothing. "But now we're like…in a relationship. I don't…I don't want to ruin things."
"Ruin things?" Scott exclaimed rolling his eyes. "Stiles, you realize you're a best-selling author, not a serial killer, right? He's obsessed with your books so it would be like a bonus to him!"
"I know that but…what if he's mad that I didn't tell him before? He's told me so much and I—"
"You're only putting it off even farther. Derek will understand, Stiles. But you've got to give him the chance. You'll see," he promised. "It will all work out, Stiles."
"Right," Stiles said, picking up the Hunted book up from the coffee table. "It will all work out."
"They're good, Stiles. You're a good writer. Maybe hearing it from him…you'll actually believe it. You know, it just makes you two even more of a perfect match then he thought. It'll make things even easier between the two of you."
"Thanks, Scotty."
"I mean it Stiles."
"I'll tell him," Stiles promised.
Scott urged, "soon!"
Absently, Stiles nodded with a slow heaviness. "Today," he agreed. "You're at Allison's tonight?"
"She's got a better set up," Scott said, blushing. "I'm really happy with her. She's pretty great."
Stiles grinned, "she really is. I'm glad we're doing so well, Scott."
Scott pulled the book out of Stiles' hands and threw it into his bag where it was secured around his shoulders. He gave his friend the best smile he could manage and then pushed him towards the door. "You'd better go," Scott insisted.
"Right," Stiles shook his head, adjusting the strap of his bag and nodding. "Today."
Derek knew something was off the moment Stiles arrived. He was more jittery than usual, but he didn't talk more than usual—less, if he was being honest. Stiles walked onto the set and greeted his friends with the usual subtlety, though most people who worked on the set knew who Stiles was.
When Stiles caught Derek's eye he smiled softly, offering a small wave and lifting a bag of Chinese food. Derek's favorite. And that's when Derek first felt a pit in his stomach.
When Derek was finally let to leave to grab lunch, he had to stop himself from breaking out into a run. He hadn't actually been able to see Stiles in a few days. It was agony, really, to want to talk to someone all the time and only be able to share a few texts.
"Derek," Stiles grinned at him from the ground as he pulled out the food.
"Stiles," Derek smiled back, leaning down to steal a kiss. But it was a quick kiss, cut short by Stiles pushing him back and laughing.
"Derek, come on, we've got food!" Stiles announced, waving his arms over the cuisine. "I don't think I ate yesterday so I'm eager to shovel it down my throat!"
Derek snorted but sat back obediently, picking up chopsticks as Stiles opted to use a fork. "How do you just forget to eat?"
Stiles shrugged before forking a large amount of rice into his mouth.
Derek checked the time before picking up his own food. They were silent for a long moment before Derek decided to speak. "So I—well I've been thinking," Derek began, shifting slightly where he sat. "There is only a little more than a month of filming left."
"Yeah," Stiles agreed, nodding. "That's exciting, right?"
"It's just that I was wondering what we were going to do when we don't live down the road from one another anymore."
Stiles blinked over at him, wide eyed and startled. "Oh."
Derek didn't like the look on Stiles' face, like he was a deer caught in headlights. "Have you not thought about it?"
Stiles leaned back, twiddling the fork in his hand. "No, of course I've thought about it! I just—well I wasn't sure how you'd feel about a long distance relationship."
"What do you mean?" Derek asked, pausing his eating.
"Well I live in Beacon Hills," Stiles began and then stopped to take another bite of food. "You do not. I mean, it's not like we couldn't fly to go see each other from time to time but…"
"Right," Derek agreed, building up his confidence. "I was thinking that maybe we, the two of us, could get an apartment together."
Stiles stopped his fork midair. It was like everything had stopped, even as Stiles' mind ran a thousand miles per hour. Derek had never wanted the ability to read minds as much as he did in that moment.
"You want to live together," Stiles said slowly, moving his fork again in a distracted manner. "Huh."
"Well I know we've only been together for two months but…well we've known each other for quite a while."
"I don't know if you could survive."
"I was just an idea," Derek finished, ignoring his outburst.
Stiles went silent then, looking around. When his eyes flashed back to Derek it was with an expression that Derek couldn't perfectly place. "We can…talk about it later. It's just, well it's just that I've been putting off—"
"Derek!" came a gruff voice. "Hey, Derek, we're having a bit of trouble with the head set. Can you come fit it on now?"
Stiles looked off towards the set even as Derek's eyes stayed trained on him. "You should go. I don't—Can we finish this discussion later this evening? Can you come over to mine when you're done here? I…there is something I want to talk to you about."
Derek merely nodded before scrambling to get up. "Sure, Stiles. I'll be there." He took off at a slow face towards the set. When he looked back at Stiles he gave him a smile, but when it was returned it looked off and uncertain.
And Derek felt, in that one moment, like the world around him had lit on fire.
Stiles watched him go, his heart thrumming inside of him. Derek wanted to live together. Derek trusted Stiles enough to want to share a home with him, to take their relationship more seriously. It was exactly what Stiles wanted. Everything sounded just perfect in every way. And Stiles felt like vomiting.
What was Derek going to say now, when all that trust came tumbling down? A part of Stiles recognized that fact that he was being stupid, but Stiles couldn't help but be afraid of how the truth would affect the perfect relationship. Stiles knew Derek was it for him, knew that he could never find someone that perfect ever again.
And Stiles was afraid.
"I am a monster!" Derek screamed, his teeth bared and his eyes watering. "I am everything that they ever claimed I was! I am blood thirsty and angry and uncontrollable and immoral and without mercy! I want them dead! I want to feel their blood run down my claws when I sink them into their flesh and steal their breaths! I want to hear the exact moment when their heart stops beating! I will not feel penitence in the slightest for their deaths, I will howl in joy when I know they're all under the ground!"
Lydia, and Erica stumbled back from Derek, fear shining on their faces. Isaac, though, Isaac stood near him, his own teeth baring. "Alexander you need to calm down. Listen to yourself. You're being stupid. You're a good man, a kind and understanding one. You're fighting to help people."
Derek turned slowly to face him, his breathing hard and his eyes stinging. "I was," Derek agreed, huffing in breathes of air. "I was a good man. But I am no longer that man. I have become the monster they always said I was. They have turned me into something to fear. And I'll watch that fear flash in their eyes and their children's eyes. I'll kill them all and feel no remorse."
"I don't believe that," Lydia said softly, her face streaked with burning tears. "You're upset, Alex. But you're haven't changed. You couldn't if you wanted to." She stepped towards him then, a stumbling step. "She's dead, Alex. We can't change that."
Derek sank to his knees then, his hands clenching into tight fists as he fought to keep himself from shifting. He was shaking, like his entire body was vibrating. He jerked forward, as if he were vomiting until there was nothing left in his stomach and then he just gagged into the air. He stayed crouched on the ground, unwilling to look up.
"They're all dying," Derek says in a choked voice, still kneeling on the ground. "Every decent human being is getting caught up in this damn war! I can't do this anymore, Vera!" His claws are in the ground now, digging into the soil. "I almost lost you, now Kets is dead. And all I can think about is making them pay."
"Kets wouldn't want you to be—"
"—She was a kid," Derek reminded in a bitter voice, harsh and raw. He pulled himself together then, breathing in hard and breathing out slowly. When he stood again he refused to look at their faces, just gripped tight to the bottom of his shirt. "I'm tired," he whispered, "and I'm afraid."
Isaac wiped his eyes hard when they wrapped up the scene, laughing in a sputtered laugh. "God that scene's intense."
Derek just nods, still breathing heavy.
"It is the scenes like that," Isaac continued, "that really impress me about you, Derek. You're a great actor."
Derek paused his thoughts long enough to look up at Isaac and smile warmly. "Thank you Isaac, it means a lot, coming from you."
Isaac raised a surprised eyebrow, blinking a few times in rapid succession. "From me?"
Derek stood up straight to look Isaac over, "you're one of the best actors I've ever worked with. You completely step into a character, Isaac. It really is amazing."
Isaac didn't seem to know how to respond to that. His mouth was slightly open, though he didn't seem aware. He tried to slightly shake himself from his thoughts but it only managed to make him twitchy as he stared up at Derek. "Thank you, I mean—"
"I like working with you, Isaac," Derek finished, clapping the other man's shoulder lightly. "Good thing we're working on a series, huh?"
Isaac laughed at that, nodding with a smile. "Yeah, yeah."
Derek turned to go then, desperate to get out of his costume and makeup. Allison was smiling at him when he came over and he couldn't help but return it.
"Guess what?" Allison gushed as Derek sat down.
Derek rolled his eyes playfully, "what?"
"Scott and I were talking about what we're doing in between movies and…." Her grin grew even wider. "Scott and I both have Skype accounts and then on the weekends he's going to drive two hours to come see me!"
Derek laughed at her as she wiped at his face, taking the traces of makeup off. "That's wonderful, Allison. I'm so glad things are working out for you two."
She looked so elated, so overjoyed. "I just, I think he could be the one, ya know? I've never had a better relationship."
Derek nodded with a shrinking smile. He knew exactly what she meant.
She didn't seem to notice the shift in his emotion, only continued onward as she cleaned him up. "What about you and Stiles? Have you talked about how you're dealing with distance? You guys doing like long distance Skype and stuff?"
Derek refused to let himself stiffen. He merely cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm quite sure Stiles is breaking up with me this evening."
Allison froze then, her face turning to horror. "What?"
Derek tried to play off a calm, "well it's not that shocking. I mean, we're done filming again so and….well things are complicated."
"How do you know?" she demanded.
Derek looked up at her, his eyes watering slightly against his will (he blamed it on the scene they had just finished) and spoke, "I brought up maybe getting an apartment together. He got all nervous and said he actually had been putting something off and that we should talk tonight."
Allison's face dropped completely, as if the world had just come crashing down around her. Derek knew the feeling. "But you can't be sure—"
"No," Derek agreed, "but it's just…I don't think Stiles wants the relationship to go any farther. I can't…I can't ask him to—" He stopped in favor of sighing. "It's for the best, really. This silly secret relationship thing was going to get found out eventually. I couldn't put him through that. He'd be hounded forever."
"Derek," Allison breathed out, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—I mean he seemed so happy…"
"It's okay," Derek told her, even though it wasn't.
When Stiles opened the door to his apartment it was six in the evening and Derek was nervous as hell. He didn't know how he was going to do it. He couldn't listen to Stiles say it, couldn't watch everything that was perfect in his life go away. He finally had something precious, something of his own, and he'd somehow managed to screw it all up.
The look on Stiles' face when he opened the door confirmed it all. He looked nervous too, white as a ghost actually. Derek wondered for a moment if Stiles thought Derek was going to try for some sort of hurtful revenge or something stupid. Like splash Stiles' photo and name across the internet with a story. But Derek could never do that. Not to anyone and especially not to Stiles.
He didn't blame Stiles for what was coming, just felt very sad about it.
Stiles was perfect in an imperfect way. He always tried to put too much food in his mouth. He talked too much and too fast. He couldn't stop moving to save his life. But he was the kindest person Derek had ever met, the most thoughtful and the smartest. He was gorgeous and sexy and hysterical and just—they were perfect and now they were over.
"Derek?" Stiles said softly after a moment, studying him in the doorway. He opened it wider, puling the bigger man in and placing his hands on either shoulder, to force Derek to look at him. It made Derek flinch and stop breathing. "Jesus, Derek are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Derek managed to grunt out. "Please, can we just do this?"
Stiles blinked up at him, as if confused. "Do what?"
"I know what you want to talk about, Stiles. I know what you're going to say. I just want to get it over with."
"You do?" Stiles blinked at him with eyes that grew twice in size.
Derek cleared his throat and looked away. "Please, can you just say it? I—I'm going to be fine. I just can't stay here long, it hurts... I was happy, you know?"
Stiles grew silent for a long moment. "Derek," he began in a slow and incredulous voice, "what the hell do you think I'm going to tell you?"
Derek looked up slowly, thrown off by the change in Stiles' tone of voice. "We're breaking up. Aren't we?"
Stiles went limp and unmoving, just stared at Derek where they both stood just within the entrance of the apartment. "Oh my God," Stiles whispered softly and then tightened his hold on Derek. "No, holy fuck, damn it, Derek! No I am not breaking up with you! Fuck, did I make you think that's what this was? Jesus no! God no!" Stiles exclaimed and then he was grabbing at Derek, pulling him into a hard kiss like it could erase all worry and doubt.
Derek melted into the kiss, letting Stiles dominate it and deepen it. It took several moments before Derek was kissing back heavily, pulling Stiles closer. He was crying; Derek was crying. His eyes were getting blurry with tears as he kept kissing Stiles.
When they finally broke the kiss, Stiles grabbed his hand and pulled him to the sofa. "I don't want to break up, Derek. That's the last thing I want."
"We're not…we're not breaking up?"
"No, Derek, no I do not want that."
Derek shook his head, his hands fisted into Stiles' shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm being a child. I jumped to conclusions and just…I—I'm sorry, Stiles."
"God, don't apologize, Derek," Stiles pleaded, his hands holding both sides of Derek's face. "I am so sorry for scaring you like that."
Derek let himself calm down then, his eyes whirling around the apartment in an attempt to rein in his emotions.
"Jesus," Stiles said, clutching Derek's hand into his own. "I've never seen you that upset before." He sat beside Derek on the couch, barely leaving any room between them. "I swear that I have no intention of breaking up with you. I am extremely happy with you. I've never been so serious about a relationship before."
Derek calmed down dramatically being near Stiles. "So we're okay?"
"I hope so," Stiles said, watching Derek's face closely. He pushed Derek back and tilted to his side so that he was in Derek's lap, curling into him. "Are you okay?"
"A lot better now." Derek put a hand in Stiles' hair, tugging softly at the hairs. "Sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Stiles mock growled at him, leaning into his touch. "Do you wanna talk?"
"You talk," Derek directed him, keep his hand in his hair.
"What should I talk about?"
"Well," Derek said slowly, immensely more calm. "I thought you wanted to talk to me about something."
Stiles' eyes widened then and his face seem to quickly pale once more. "We can—we can talk about it later. It's not that big a deal."
Derek considered his boyfriend for a moment, uncertain. "I really don't mind. Whatever it is, we can talk about it now."
"Ahh…well, see there's something I haven't told you," Stiles admitted with a deep breath. "It's actually kind of a big deal, to me anyway. I—well I really wanted to tell you but I—Jesus."
"Breathe, Stiles," Derek demanded. "Why are you so…antsy?"
"Yeah, because saying breathe is going to make it better," Stiles snapped and then shut his eyes. "Sorry, that wasn't fair. I'm just a bit nervous."
"Whatever it is Stiles," Derek promised, "it'll be okay. I think we both just established that we really want this to work. We'll make it work."
Stiles twisted a bit so that he met Derek's eyes and stared into them He searched in them for something, some great answer the rest of the world had never been able to give him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before gripping Derek's free hand in his own. Derek gave him a reassuring squeeze so Stiles decided to start small. "Okay, well I'm a writer. That's what I like to do. I love to write more than anything in the whole wide world."
Derek grinned in a questioning way. "I actually figured that's what you were probably doing. I think's that great! I hear that people who read a lot are good writers. Are you like, a journalist? Is that why you were you so nervous telling me about that?" He looked at Stiles for a moment before leaning back and frowning. "If this is you trying to tell me you've been writing an article about me…"
"No," Stiles reassured him, tightening his hold in Derek's hand. "I would never do that to you, I swear. I'm not a journalist, I haven't the drive for something like that." Stiles swallowed, looking away. "Look, it was Scott's idea back in the day. He—well we would take writing classes together so he knew that I— He was better with the grammatical stuff, you know?—err, you know I'm so…"
"Stiles I don't know what you're trying to tell me," Derek said, honestly confused as hell.
"Remember that game we played at Lydia's party? Guessing who C. Sparks is? Do you remember how nervous Scott and I were to—" Stiles stuttered before changing his direction once more. "Derek, I know who Sparks is."
Stiles let that hang there, allowing the silence to cross over as Derek leaned back to process the information. His face was flashing signs of amazement as he began to go over everything he knew.
"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" Stiles asked.
Derek stared at him. "You're telling me…that you know who the all mysterious writer of the series that I'm making movies for. You're telling me that Scott…are you telling me Scott is Sparks?"
"What?" Stiles exclaimed and then slumped into his chair, laughing at the very idea. "Oh, no. Scott was a technical writer, all essays and facts. He wanted to be an editor like his Godfather. That's what he does, edits. He works for Collington Publishers. He's amazing at it too."
"Collington Publishers?" Derek's eyes widened, his jaw dropping, like a realization washed over him. "Scott was one of the editors for the Hunted series? He's met Sparks?"
Stiles smacked his hand to his face, "Oh my God! Derek, I am the author of the Hunted series."
Silence. And then, "You—you're not," Derek said quickly but slurred the end to a halt in favor of staring at Stiles. After a moment Derek snorted and shook his head. "Funny, Stiles. But you're not Sparks."
Stiles felt like he was struggling for air. He swallowed hard and kept his eyes trained on the floor. "And how are you so sure? Think about it. You've built Sparks up to be some kind of god but…what if he's just a really shy idiot who's in love with writing?"
I just figure everyone's only so in love with them because they like the mystery of who wrote it. They all want to know who Sparks is but…well once the world knows, they won't care anymore.
Words from the past crept up on Derek to curl around his mind, echoing through his brain.
Can't tell. It's a secret.
I'm writing. Putting thoughts and ideas and such on paper. Just a bit of private writing.
Surely Derek hadn't missed something so painfully obvious. Sparks was a larger than life writer with the power of words and a mysterious shadow. He wasn't a brilliant young man, a good friend, a shy but always loud, bumbling idiot. Stiles was translucent, easy to peg, and easy to understand. Wasn't he? This was Stiles, his Stiles. Perfect, wonderful, always in his own world Stiles.
"You can't be," Derek breathed, staring now, uncertain. "I'd have known. It isn't possible."
"Why? Because I'm some weird kid from a small town?" Stiles looked up through his lashes, sinking into himself. "I guess it does sound a bit farfetched…someone like me… me, a bestselling author. I know I don't look like much but…my writing…well I mean—"
Derek fell silent, reeling. He flipped through his memories, disgusted by how much he hadn't noticed at the time.
I'd hate to be famous. People watching you all the time, thinking they know you. I'm a very private person.
There's more to me than meets the eyes.
I should think there are few classic authors I haven't read.
Superman wouldn't be able to live a normal life if everyone knew the truth. No one would treat him the same way. He deserved some privacy, so he made another identity.
I have impeccable taste in literature.
"I wanted to tell you," Stiles said suddenly, breaking Derek from his trance. "But it never seemed the right moment. Besides, I'm a terribly private dude. God, and then we started dating. I couldn't believe you wanted to…to be with me! Not me as Sparks but just plain, stupid Stiles. I didn't want to screw anything up."
"I feel really stupid now." Derek blinked over at him, taking a step back, but then stepping forward again. "You wrote the books."
"I did," Stiles agreed slowly, as if he were afraid he'd broken Derek.
"And you sent me the book," Derek said. "And the notes about the character."
Stiles nodded in confirmation.
"God," Derek groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. "How the hell have you been keeping all of this a secret for so long?"
Stiles cleared his throat. "Well, fear is a pretty good motivator."
Derek couldn't stop the bark of laughter that ripped itself from his throat. His hands slid away from his face so he could stare incredulously over at the writer. "Fear? What on earth are you afraid of?"
Stiles straightened up at that, looking Derek in his eyes. "I know, it's stupid." He began to pull his hand out of Derek's grasp, trying to keep himself still.
Derek felt a shot of ice down his spine as he tried to backtrack and undo the obvious insult that Stiles had taken his comment to be. "No, no, I just—I just don't know what you could be nervous about. Your books are huge, very well known, and loved. I…I don't know. I guess I don't understand why you wouldn't want everyone to know what you've accomplished."
Stiles relaxed at that, giving a sheepish grin. "Does this mean you're not mad at me?"
Derek exhaled sharply, cocking his head at Stiles. "Why would I be mad? Stiles, this is amazing! I—God I guess I should have known. It all makes sense now. I can't believe I've been so oblivious."
"Lydia figured it out," Stiles told him, twisting his face up. "At her party she just…I guess what you said just made it click in her head. Other than her…it's just basically Scott, Deaton, and my dad that know me personally and know what I do. There are others…people who haven't met me that know but...well I guess they don't really count."
Derek swallowed, staring at him. "I'm sorry. I'm dating the author of the Hunted series. My boyfriend wrote the fricking Hunted books."
"Yes?" Stiles said, his eyebrows raising. "And I'm dating Derek Hale. Like, the Derek Hale-the award winning movie actor, Derek Hale."
Derek snorted, "Right. I'm kind of still processing. But uh…start at the beginning, maybe? Why Sparks? What are you doing here? Why did you ever even talk to me?"
Stiles nodded, pulling himself closer to Derek. "Well I started writing when I was kid because my mom liked to read. My mother's name was Claudia…. God, everyone loved her. She was great at talking in front of people, she could convince Satan to donate to a church. My mom was very famous for starting movements. She would get sway, get protests going. My mom made sure people got involved when there was injustice," Stiles said, hugging his thighs to his stomach, resting his chin on top of his knees. He smiled absently, shaking head. "They called her Sparks, a silly nickname from her coworkers. She really was something else."
"C. Sparks," Derek whispered, picking up the first book and then looking over at Stiles. "Alright, I may need a couple minutes to wrap my head around this. I know we've been through this, but run this by me one more time. You're C. Sparks?"
"Yeah."
"You wrote the books."
"Yeah?"
"I'm dating the Author of the Hunted series."
"Yeah…if you still want to be," Stiles said sheepishly.
"Of course I—!" Derek cut off. "Jesus, Stiles I've never been as happy as I am right now, dating you. I like having someone to talk to and kiss and to care about who…who cares about me. This is..this is just the cherry on top. I mean, Stiles you're so talented. This series is fantastic!"
Stiles bit his lip, tapping the cover of the book in Derek's hand and then looking up nervously. "Do you—do you really think so? You like the books?"
Derek went silent again to blink in confusion. "Well, of course I like the series. They've been my favorite books for—you know how much I love the books. The first time we met my nose was buried in your book!"
Stiles smile started small as he fought it down but eventually he was beaming at Derek full force. "So…do you want to read the sixth book?"
Derek's eyes grew round and his jaw dropped. It was a long moment of Stiles trying not to laugh and Derek to trying to collect himself. "Now? I—can I? Is that an abuse of our relationship? Do you want me to wait?"
Stiles just reached into his bag and pulled out a package, a big grin on display. Atop the package, in familiar swirly letters was written:
To Derek
From Stiles
Derek took the package with a slow, amazed movement. He looked at Stiles with awe, taking it and then starting down at it. "Jesus, I can't believe this."
Stiles shifted in his seat. "Actually, before you start reading…I was hoping we could finish that conversation from earlier. If uh….the two of us getting an apartment together is still on the table…"
Derek looked up quickly. "Yeah? You, uh…you want to get an apartment together?"
"If—if you…I mean I promise not to be too annoying and I won't even leave my drafts all over the place and I'll clean up after myself and I won't hog the bathroom and I…God, Derek I want this to work. I love you." Stiles squeaked, cutting off, as if the last part wasn't intentional. His face went paler and he seemed to scrunch up in fear. It was like he was afraid he had ruined everything; yet he didn't take it back. He watched Derek then, waiting for some sort of reaction. He wasn't disappointed.
Derek's eyes widened largely, his jaw dropping slightly before he let out a scratchy, "You mean that?"
Stiles sank into his seat, his cheeks flaming and his heart racing. He let a moment tick by before slowly nodding, "yeah, I do."
Derek's gaze turned soft and awed. "Me too. I—I love you too. I actually have been in love with you for quite a while." He smiled then, looking down once more at the book in his hands. "You love me." He began moving quickly, setting the novel aside on the coffee table in favor of reaching for Stiles in a fast, needy motion. "The book can wait. Clothing off, now."
Stiles blinked quickly before a wicked grin spilled across his face. "Hell yeah," he laughed, yanking his shirt upward, taking it off.
Derek tugged at Stiles desperately, pulling him by the belt loop towards the bedroom, while scrambling to take off his own jacket. They stumbled a few times, too busy grabbing at one another to pay attention to where they were stepping. They made it as far as the bedroom doorway before Derek had Stiles pinned up against the wall, leaving open mouthed kisses along his neck. "I love you, God, I fucking love you, I love you so much."
Stiles groaned, pawing at Derek's back. "Derek, come on, come on," he urged, pushing at him, "clothes off." He grabbed at Derek's shirt before Derek took the hint and stepped back to pull it off in one fluid motion. Stiles took the moment to let out a wolf whistle and chuckle before Derek had him back in his hands, growling softly at him, fingers pulling at his zipper.
"Will you, uh," Derek questioned, biting at Stiles' lips, pulling back to look him in the eyes with meaning that registered.
"Yes," Stiles agreed with a moan shucking off his pants and making for Derek's, stumbling backwards into his bedroom. "God, I love you."
When Stiles woke it was due to a weight shift on his bed. He looked up slowly, just in time to appreciate the view of a very naked Derek making his way to the living room. Stiles took the moment to thank God that Scott was spending the night at Allison's again.
When Derek came back, he had a book with him. He saw Stiles looking at him as he pulled himself back into the bed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You looked very comfortable."
"Well you do make a very good pillow." Stiles pulled himself upward so he could lean into Derek's sitting position and look to where Derek was starting to open the book. "Ahh, starting it now?"
"You don't mind, do you?" Derek questioned as he grinned. "I don't think I can wait any longer. You ended the last one at such a good part. I have…two hours or so before I have to start getting ready."
"Mmm," Stiles agreed, humming softly. He snuggled in closer. "Well I'm awake now. Are you going to let me up while you read?"
Derek's arm tightened hold on Stiles. "No." He watched his boyfriend out of the corner of his eye. "I love you," he whispered, softly with burning ears.
"I love you too," Stiles stole a kiss. "But if you're not letting me up then you're going to have to share the book."
Derek looked down at him then, pushing a hand slowly through his short hair. "Read it to me?"
"Huh?"
"Come on," Derek urged, pushing the book towards Stiles. "Please read it to me?"
Stiles huffed and shook his head but after a moment of looking at Derek he scrunched his eyebrows together. "Seriously? How is that for the cameras you are Mr. Charming, to everyone else you're like the scariest man alive, and yet you still manage to pull of puppy dog eyes. You want me to read it aloud? Why?"
Derek shrugged, his ears going red, "I like the sound of your voice. And I am not scary."
Stiles took the book slowly, watching Derek to make sure he wasn't joking before nestling in a more comfortable reading position. "The air smelt stale in Alexander's nose, bitter and cold. The view was breathtaking though…"
Derek smiled, reading the words as Stiles spoke them, excited and content.
Time passed and Stiles had to stop, causing Derek to whine, "No keep going. It's a good part."
Stiles flicked him in the nose, shaking his head in amusement. "Derek, we've got to get ready."
"Can't I call in sick?" Derek questioned, trying to grab the book.
Stiles was too fast though, moving swiftly out of reach. "Not a chance, Derek Hale. You've got a movie to make."
Derek grumbled as he moved to get out of bed, stopping a moment with bright eyes to look at Stiles and whisper, "love you," softly before stealing another kiss. He shut eyes and smiled lightly, "I like being able to say that."
"I knew you were a closet romantic," Stiles muttered, pretending to be annoyed but pulling Derek's forehead to his own to whisper, "love you too."
Derek nodded, like he was satisfied, "Time to shower."
"Scott will be back soon," Stiles warned after him, but grinning at the view that only slightly limped to the bathroom.
Derek stopped then, just in the light of bathroom door to give Stiles a heart stopping smile that, if Stiles was daring, he'd call wolfish. "Aren't you coming?"
Stiles never stumbled out of bed faster.
"It's a pretty big place," Stiles told him, staring around. "It's got a nice oven like you wanted, and a center island. It's not too…artistic with weird colors and stuff. It's about the right size for us."
"Sounds great. We'll take it."
Stiles snapped up straight, frowning at the phone. "But you haven't even seen it. At least let me shoot you some pictures."
"Stiles, if you like I'm going to like it. I don't care where I am…I'm just excited about us getting out own place."
"I haven't even told you the price tag yet," Stiles argued, finding it strange to be on the side of reason for once.
"Stiles…there is one thing you and I are not short on and that is money."
Stiles couldn't help but grin at that. "Alright, but it's got a lovely spare room so you'll have no argument for when I invite our friends over. I'm sure Lydia will want to stay over as soon as possible so she can rant about our horrible decorating abilities and then proceed to sneak around the apartment to try to find my writings."
"Fine, fine," Derek agreed in a rough voice. "Just get the damn place."
"Don't snap at me, Hale," Stiles warned, glaring at the phone, knowing Derek couldn't see him. "Quit being grumpy. I know I'm taking longer than I said but I had a few things at home to take care of."
"It's been over a week, Stiles," Derek whined, and Stiles could hear the frown on his face.
"You know, if I told Scott or Allison that you just said that in that voice without joking they wouldn't believe me. No one ever believes me that deep down you're addicted to cuddles and go through withdrawl when I can't be with you."
A beat of silence. "Shut up."
"I miss you too."
Derek sighed across the line, unimpressed. "If you really missed me you'd be on a plane right now."
Stiles couldn't help but laugh at that. "Actually I'm standing around our soon-to-be-apartment and I already feel like I'm home. It's just missing you."
"You really like it that much?"
"I really do," Stiles admitted, glad Derek couldn't see the blush that crept up onto his face. "I look into the kitchen and I can see you making super while I'm leaning against the counter babbling, that ridiculous apron that Laura bought you and that look of peace you get when you're making things. In the living room I can see you reading while I watch my shows, my feet in your lap. I look into the bathroom and I see two sinks, perfect for our morning routines. I can see you brushing your teeth in there already. And good Lord, the bathtub and shower…just big enough for two. And Derek, my favorite room is the bedroom because you'd already be here if you knew what I could see there."
Derek scoffed but Stiles just grinned. "Really that perfect?"
"Peter's list of possible places was good…this was his favorite too. I think…yeah, I think this is perfect."
"About Peter…he, uh…well he was talking to my parents," Derek began, suddenly quite serious sounding. "He told them I was getting an apartment with my…boyfriend…and Mom wasn't very happy when she heard Laura and Peter have met you but neither of my parents have."
"Oh," Stiles said, pausing to look out the window where the woods grew behind the building. He bit his lip. "So we're doing this? We're at the meet the parents part?"
"Not if you don't want to," Derek said but his voice was confident and calm. Stiles could see right through him.
"Of course I want to meet your family," Stiles announced. "My dad wants to meet you too. Perhaps at separate times though?"
Derek just hummed in agreement, clearly pleased. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, yeah," Stiles laughed pulling himself away from the window. "I'll get things fixed over here and then double check my flight info."
"I'll see you then…love you."
"Love you too," Stiles replied before ending the call. He spun in a circle, taking the apartment in one last time before smiling wide to himself and heading for the door.
And...yay Stiles told him the truth! I get really tired of reading things where a character has a big secret and then the other character finds out accidentally before the first character was going to tell them and it makes a big misunderstanding and a loss of trust and...Well this just seemed more Stiles and Derek, ya know?
Anyway...let me know what you think! I appreciate it guys :) Take care
