a/n: I'M STILL ACCEPTING HALLOWEEN COSTUME SUGGESTIONS! SO IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS THIS IS YOUR TIME TO SHINE ~
"How did it go?" Scott asks as he climbs in the Jeep's passenger seat and pulls the door close.
It's been two days since that night at the bar.
Stiles and Derek didn't really talk much after Stiles told Derek he still wanted to be with him, both of them too busy kissing and making up for a week's loss of physical contact to bother with words.
But they did have a conversation after Derek drove him home, Stiles telling him he should probably come up and pick up the bag of clothes he'd left there last Saturday.
The bag Stiles pointedly ignored all week as it sat by the foot of his bed, refusing to even move it somewhere else as to not be in his way.
Because that would mean acknowledging him and Derek weren't seeing each other, and that was something Stiles wasn't prepared to deal with.
Derek walked him up to his door, his hand clutching Stiles' tight, as if he still couldn't believe Stiles wasn't going anywhere.
He didn't come inside, though, and Stiles didn't ask him to, saying he'd be right back with his things.
It felt a lot less final than Stiles imagined it would feel, handing Derek the bag, their fingers brushing together as Derek took it from him and threw the strap over his shoulder, because now he knew this didn't mean Derek was leaving for good.
In fact, he wasn't going anywhere.
Derek didn't go back to his car right away, leaning against the door frame and opening and closing his mouth a few times, as if he needed to say something but didn't quite know how to yet.
Stiles let him take his time, but not before taking hold of one of Derek's hands and lacing their fingers together.
He knew he needed that point of contact, that after a week without it it was like he needed to make sure Derek was still there.
And by the way Derek looked down at their hands and his lips twitched up a bit, he agreed.
But that still didn't mean Derek wanted them to jump into this, into their relationship, into trying to go back to the way things were before.
Because things between them weren't the same.
The conversation they had changed something, and it'd do absolutely no good for them to pretend things weren't different.
That's what Derek told him, sounding a little bit unsure of how Stiles would take this, but determined about it being something they needed to do.
Not take some time off from each other, because they already did that and it was a disaster, but just go into this slowly, not spending as much time in each other's company as they did before.
Stiles listened as Derek repeated some of the same things he said at the bar: he had some issues he had to work through, therapy being the first step to help him with that, and he'd like for Stiles to be there for him.
But this was something Derek needed to do by himself.
He appreciated and wanted the support, but he needed to know he could deal with this alone.
And Stiles understood.
This was a major change for Derek, and not an easy one at that, so it didn't surprise him at all to know Derek might think it'd be best if they tentatively found their way back to each other instead of just going for it.
He needs some time to come to terms with things, and Stiles will gladly give it to him.
Things feel different between them, but in a way that leaves Stiles thinking that everything is going to be okay.
Because Derek feeling comfortable enough to come out and tell him this and they both talking about it like adults instead of just assuming things about each other or being impulsive means they're evolving.
Their relationship is evolving.
And that gives Stiles a really good feeling about their future together.
Derek sharing about Kate and Stiles assuring him he wasn't going anywhere went a long way in making Derek feel more relaxed and open about his own thoughts and opinions, and Stiles hopes that only improves as their relationship progresses and Derek gets help.
So he just gives Scott a small smile as he drives off and says, "It went fine."
"Fine?" Scott raises an eyebrow at him. "After all that angst, and you just tell me it went fine?"
Stiles rolls his eyes, face sombering when he says, "He told me about- You know."
"Yeah?" Scott says lowly.
Stiles nods, "I think he had some time to think and figure some things out during the time we were- So I think it made it easier for him to tell me about what happened. Like, momentum, you know? Especially after I told him about Allison."
Scott stays quiet for a few seconds, staring straight ahead as Stiles drives them to work, before he says, "She wants to meet him, you know. Ally."
"She already knows him."
Scott gives him an unimpressed stare, "You know what I mean. She thinks it would be good if they- You know."
"Yeah," Stiles answers absentmindedly.
Because now that Scott mentioned it, he thinks it might.
Be good for Derek.
To know there's someone who particularly understands what he went through.
He just doesn't know if Derek will agree.
And he doesn't think it's a good time to bring it up, at least not now.
Scott must sense what he's thinking, because he just shrugs one shoulder and says, "Just an idea."
Stiles nods, choosing to keep quiet.
The drive to the firehouse doesn't take long, both him and Scott climbing out of the car as soon as Stiles parks it and walking to their lockers so they can drop their things.
They find Danny, Jackson, and the rest of Jackson's company hanging around the rec room, and as soon as Danny sees him he gets up from his seat and stalks towards them.
"Good luck, dude," Scott clasps him on the shoulder, grinning, before he walks away.
Danny doesn't even bother saying anything before he grabs Stiles by the arm and drags him to their ambulance, opening the back door and pushing Stiles inside before climbing right after him and closing the door behind them.
Stiles sits on the stretcher while Danny flops down right in front of him, and they both stare at each other, unblinking.
Until Danny says, "It's later."
Stiles tries not to wince.
He knew this was coming.
Ever since he got Danny to distract Scott so he could sneak out from the parking lot, he knew he'd have to explain things to him.
He was only hoping he'd have more time.
And that by the time he decided to tell Danny about everything, Danny would have forgotten all of it.
But Stiles' luck doesn't work that way, which is why he shouldn't be surprised to find himself cornered in an ambulance while Danny has his arms crossed over his chest and a blank look on his face.
"Well?" Danny prompts.
Stiles lets out a breath, running a hand through his hair.
"Can I start this conversation by saying that I won't be able to tell you everything because some things are not my business to share?"
"Yes," Danny nods. "But I still want to know what happened, and I still want to know if things are okay."
Stiles fights the urge to smile at that.
Because if there's one thing they have learned by working together is that they need to have each other's backs.
And not just when they're out on a job.
That still doesn't make it any less complicated for Stiles to come up with something to say that doesn't fuck things up for Allison and possibly Derek and that is not a lie.
Because they have a No Lying Policy while they're in the ambulance.
And there's no way Stiles wants to be the one to break that.
"So?" Danny kicks him lightly in the shin when Stiles doesn't say anything.
"So," Stiles drawls out, trying to think of what to say.
"Stiles."
"Alright," Stiles sighs. "Alright. Well, Derek was in a really bad relationship when he lived in New York."
"How bad?" Danny immediately asks, and Stiles is reminded that, until Ethan, Danny didn't really have the best of luck when it came to picking out partners.
Meaning, most of them, if not all, were complete and utter assholes to him.
Still, as much as Stiles thinks Danny will understand, it's still not his place to spew out Derek's entire life story.
You know, again.
Especially without his permission.
So he just shakes his head and says, "Not my story to tell."
To which Danny's only response is his lips thinning and saying, "Really fucking bad."
Understatement.
But Stiles doesn't tell him that, either.
What he says is, "And it was with someone Allison used to know."
"Who?" Danny blinks, surprised, before frowning.
"Also not my story to tell."
"So what you're saying is," Danny says slowly. "You can't tell me anything?"
Stiles tilts his head to the side, "Basically," and then adds, "But I can tell you that I talked to Derek."
And that gets Danny's attention away from that fucking mess.
"And?" he asks, looking expectant.
"We're good," Stiles says, not even trying to keep himself from smiling. "I mean, we talked. There are some things we still need to figure out, but we'll do it together. And we also agreed on taking things slow. For now."
Danny is full-blown grinning by the time Stiles finishes speaking, punching him lightly on the shoulder as he says, "Good for you."
"Yeah," Stiles nods, ducking his head as his smile widens and he feels his cheeks start to flush.
Just as Danny is opening his mouth to say something else, they hear some shouting coming from the outside.
Stiles rolls his eyes while Danny sighs, and in no time they're both getting out of the ambulance.
And just in time, really, to see Scott and Jackson running and elbowing each other out of the way to see who gets to the fire truck first.
"You'd think they would have given up by now," Danny comments as he watches Jackson try to trip Scott.
"My man never backs down from a fight," Stiles says proudly, smirking when Scott gets a hand over Jackson's head and messes up his hair.
Danny shakes his head, scrubbing a hand over his face, "You two are ridiculous."
"Says the one whose best friend is currently trying to punch mine in the dick."
Not that Jackson succeeds, with Scott veering out of the way.
Little does Jackson know, Scott's had a lot of practice avoiding things flying his way.
Like the lacrosse balls Stiles used to throw at him whenever they were practicing on his backyard.
"But unlike you," Danny points a finger at him. "I don't enable this."
"Please," Stiles huffs. "Like you're not in on Finstock's poll to see who wins."
Danny narrows his eyes, "Who told you?"
"Greenberg," Stiles shrugs one shoulder, and then smirks. "When I asked if I could join in."
Danny sighs and shakes his head, just in time for them to see Scott hip-checking Jackson out of the way and climbing into the truck, going as far as fist-bumping and whooping when he gets the door closed and locked behind him.
And smiles brightly at both Stiles and Danny when he drives past them and out of the station, sticking a hand out the window and waving when Stiles yells after him, "Give Mrs. Stuart's cat a belly rub for me!"
"How many does that make it?" Danny asks him as Scott disappears from view.
"I don't know," Stiles says, eyes looking around until he spots Jackson. "Hey, Jackson! What's your kitten rescue count?"
Jackson glowers, righting his clothes before he crosses his arms over his chest and mumbles something.
"What was that?" Stiles smiles sweetly at him, enjoying the way Jackson's face darkens even more.
"Eight," Jackson says through gritted teeth.
"So you've rescued eight kittens," Stiles nods. "To Scott's now number thirteen."
Jackson only glares harder.
"I still can't believe you two bet on who'd rescue more cats out of trees," Danny says, exasperated.
"Seriously?" Stiles turns to Danny. "You really can't? After the bet on who could resuscitate a dummy faster? And the one on who could get more free drinks if they wore their department shirts to bars? Or the one on who-"
"You've made your point," Danny waves a hand at him.
"You mean my point that Scott has won all of those bets and will definitely win this one?" Stiles bats his lashes at them.
And almost has no time to step out of the way when Jackson launches himself at him.
And in his hurry to run the fuck away from Jackson and not get himself maimed or possibly dead, he misses Chief Finstock walking up to Danny and saying, "So the poll on how long it'll take Stilinski to say something to Jackson that'll get his ass kicked is still on?"
From: Derek
Erica just dropped a wrench on a customer's foot after he made some quip about female mechanics not knowing what they're doing.
From: Derek
She says it was an accident.
From: Derek
And that she should know better than holding tools when her hands are covered in grease.
Stiles' lips curl up as he stares down at him phone, heart flipping in his chest as he reads Derek's messages, fridge door open and a carton of milk in his hand.
They haven't really spoken or seen each other in the three days since the bar, and Stiles is a little bit surprised to have Derek be the one to break the silence.
He fully intended on talking to him at some point tomorrow, just to make sure he, and they, are okay, but it's good to have Derek be the one to take that first step.
Especially when he was so hesitant to do so before.
To: Derek
one day erica is going to end up killing one of your clients and i won't help you hide the body
"What's got you so smiley?"
Stiles startles, almost dropping everything he's holding on the floor as he turns around.
"Oh," Stiles blinks. "Hey, Mrs. McCall."
He doesn't know why he's surprised, really.
He's had years to get used to the idea that sometimes Scott's mom spends the night at his dad's house, so as she takes the milk from his hand and gestures for him to take a seat he doesn't even think to protest before doing as he's told.
"So?" she raises an eyebrow at him when Stiles doesn't say anything. "It's not like you to be up and around this time in the morning," and when Stiles makes a face at her because he's almost always up and around at this time, she adds, "At least not with a smile on your face."
True.
Stiles has to give her that.
He's still a lot more coherent in the mornings than Derek, though.
Or Scott.
Who once accidentally poured his coffee on top of his pancakes because he was too sleepy to realize the syrup was with Stiles.
So that has to count for something.
"Oh, you know," Stiles shrugs one shoulder, and before he can say anything else his phone buzzes with an incoming message.
From: Derek
I think my mom has it covered.
Well, that isn't ominous at all.
To: Derek
i don't know if you're joking or not but your mom looks scary enough that i think i kind of believe you
Two seconds later, his phone chimes again.
From: Derek
Don't worry. I'd never let her do anything to you.
Stiles has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep himself from breaking into a grin at how adorable, but still slightly creepy, Derek is.
So much so that he doesn't notice Mrs. McCall staring at him, now both eyebrows raised, as she goes on about making breakfast.
"You could have just told me the reason behind your good mood was because you were texting your boyfriend," Mrs. McCall says, smiling when Stiles fumbles with his phone and blushes.
"How did you know?"
"I've met Scott, you know," Mrs. McCall says fondly, shaking her head. "He had the same goofy grin and lovey-dovey eyes as you do whenever he spoke to Allison on the phone. Actually," she frowns. "He still does, most of the time."
Stiles mouths lovey-dovey, only to get hit in the face with a dishtowel.
He's not going to dwell on the meaning of Mrs. McCall's words, that apparently his love for Derek rivals Scott and Allison's Epic Romance, mostly because he's already had this conversation with Scott.
And his dad.
About the potential for him and Derek to be something wonderful together.
It doesn't really freak him out as much as it did before, now that he's already come to terms with his feelings for Derek.
And that he loves him.
His new problem now is when and how to tell Derek that.
Stiles figures he should hold on to it, at least for a little while, and focus on helping Derek through getting better.
He doesn't think the added pressure of feelings will do Derek much good at the moment, not now that he's trying to figure some things out by himself that'll definitely put him through a whirlwind of unwanted and mostly bad emotions.
"So I take it things are okay?"
"What's okay?"
Both Stiles and Mrs. McCall turn to see Stiles' dad entering the kitchen, running a hand over the top of Stiles' head before coming up behind Mrs. McCall and kissing her on the cheek.
Stiles wrinkles his nose.
Because as much as he likes Scott's mom, it's still gross to see his dad being affectionate with anyone.
"Good morning to you too, father of mine," Stiles bats his lashes at him, grinning when his dad just takes one look at him and rolls his eyes.
"I see you pawned off breakfast duty to Melissa," the Sheriff gives him an unimpressed look.
"I did not!" Stiles protests. "I was getting things for pancakes when she strolled in here and told me to sit down and shut up before I hurt myself."
His dad stares at him for a few seconds before he looks back at Mrs. McCall, "He was standing in front of the fridge with the door open and messing with his phone, wasn't he?"
Stiles gasps, all mock-offense, while Scott's mom just smiles at his dad and pats him on the chest before pointing to the empty chair beside Stiles.
"Sit. Breakfast will be ready…," she trails off, looking around her and taking in the absolute zero progress she made since she took charge. "When it's ready."
Stiles tries to hide a laugh behind his hand, not that's he's successful when he lets out a snort, only to have his dad swat him on the back of his head as he sits down.
And then ask him, "Things are okay between you and Derek, then?"
Stiles gapes at his dad.
And then snaps his mouth back shut because this is his dad and he's the Sheriff and if there's one person in Beacon Hills who could find out everything about everyone that person is most certainly him.
And maybe Derek's uncle, if Stiles is to believe what Derek says about him.
And Stiles had actually called his dad before he drove up to Derek's on Saturday, just to make sure he knew where Stiles was.
You know, in case Derek's family decided to make good on their threats about Stiles ever hurting Derek and his dad needed a place to start looking for his body when he suddenly disappeared without a trace.
But they haven't actually spoken about what came from that conversation, so it's no wonder his dad is bringing it up now that he has Stiles in front of him.
In case things aren't okay and Stiles needs the support.
Stiles has the best dad in the world and no one will ever convince him otherwise.
"Yes," Stiles says. "We- uh- We spoke about some things."
The Sheriff nods, and Stiles knows he gets that some things actually mean Derek's past abusive relationship.
"And Derek," Stiles keeps going. "He said he has some stuff he needs to figure out, so he thinks it's best if we take things a little bit slower. But we're okay."
"That's good," his dad smiles at him, clasping him on the shoulder. "I'm happy for you, son."
Stiles grins back at his dad, who is now staring at Mrs. McCall, the smile he had aimed at Stiles turning into a smirk.
That she returns with one of her own.
And Stiles has had way too many years of experience in having his dad and Mrs. McCall gang up on him and Scott to make their lives miserable to know that this means absolutely nothing good for him.
So he really shouldn't be surprised when they both turn back to stare at him, eyes glinting and smiling wickedly.
But what he certainly wasn't expecting was for the words coming out of his dad's mouth to be, "So does this mean we should be expecting Derek for dinner soon?"
To: Derek
i wish i could promise the same from my dad
From: Derek
Uncle Peter just texted me a picture of his new bike. It's black and beautiful and I think I hate him a little bit.
From: Derek
Cora left one of her red shirts in the washer and now Isaac's walking around with pink shirts on.
From: Derek
And socks.
From: Derek
And underwear, too.
"You look happy today."
Stiles blinks raising an eyebrow at Danny.
"As opposed to when I don't look happy every other day?"
Danny rolls his eyes, shrugging one shoulder. "You're just particularly smiley this evening. It's starting to freak the patients out."
"You mean it's starting to freak you out."
"I don't know if you know this but you kind of look like the Grinch when you're smiling this wide."
"Oh my god," Stiles groans. "You are the worst person. I don't know why anyone thinks you're this gorgeous and sweet Hawaiian dimpled prince when you're so obviously not."
"Hawaiian dimpled prince?" Danny says flatly. "Gorgeous and sweet?"
"Words directly from the mouth of Beacon Hills' elderly citizen, Mrs. Thomas," Stiles tells him, wiggling his eyebrows.
And then bursting out laughing at the horrified look Danny gives him.
"Seriously, though," Danny says, and Stiles can tell he's changing the subject so he won't have to think about how much old ladies seem to like him. "It's been a while since I've seen you like this. Did something happen?"
"As a matter of fact, something did," Stiles says, not even trying to keep himself from grinning like an absolute idiot. "Derek and I are going on a date tonight."
A date that Stiles is really looking forward to it.
Because, as it turns out, taking things slowly kind of makes him feel like he and Derek are at the beginning of their relationship, where everything is new and exciting and gives Stiles butterflies and puts the biggest smile on his lips.
In a way, Stiles guesses this is somewhat the beginning of a new relationship between them, with all the changes Derek's going through right now and is going to go through later now that he's come to the realization that Kate is screwed up and he needs help.
And like Derek told him, things between them are different and it makes no sense for them to pretend otherwise, so Stiles is looking at this like the end of a chapter and the beginning of a much better one in their lives.
Especially when he got up this morning only to see he had a new text from Derek.
From: Derek
Are you free tonight?
Ever since they started seeing each other Stiles has made a habit of having all of his Friday nights free.
They'd usually do something together and then Derek would stay over, but Stiles doesn't think this is what he has in mind right now.
Although they kept texting each other all week, they haven't really seen each other since Saturday, so it is pretty unlikely Derek will want to go from that to them sharing a bed.
Since they are, you know, taking things slow.
To: Derek
yep! what do you have in mind?
It's kind of a pretty big deal for Derek to be the one making the move, and Stiles hopes that means he's still feeling comfortable in what he has with Stiles to start voicing his opinions and wishes without being afraid of doing or saying something wrong.
Stiles has no illusions that at any moment things might not be that way anymore, though.
He knows Derek learning how to deal with and overcome trauma will not happen from day to night just because they both want to, and that this is something that'll take him a really long time to come to terms with.
It won't be easy, and sometimes it might make Derek feel like he's right where he began, but it'll be worth it.
That's not to say Stiles will let Derek shoulder their relationship.
He'll be there for him, just like he always said he would, for as long as Derek wants him.
From: Derek
I thought we could go see a movie.
To: Derek
are you going to complain about my snack choices again?
From: Derek
Yes.
Stiles snorts, lips forming a smile as his phone buzzes again.
From: Derek
I'll pick you up at 8.
"Yeah?" Danny grins at him, dimples showing. "So when I start having nightmares about you trying to kill me while smiling so wide it looks like your face is going to crack, I should thank Derek, then?"
"Yes," Stiles sniffs. "You should."
Danny snorts, "At least you're going to have a nice night."
Stiles frowns at him, "That means you think you won't. Did something happen? Was it Ethan? Do Jackson and I have to go fuck his shit up?"
Danny shakes his head at him, giving him a dim smile.
"Ethan's twin is in town," Danny says. "His name is Aiden. Ethan wants us to meet, so we're having dinner tonight at his place."
Stiles blinks at him, confused.
"What's bad about that? Are you worried Aiden's not going to like you? Because everyone loves you, Danny. Even when you're being an asshole and taking pictures of your friends while they're drunk and trying to make out with a pole. Some would say especially when you're doing that."
Stiles is part of that some.
You know, considering the friend is actually Scott and Danny's pictures gave Stiles the best blackmail material.
"It's not that," Danny says, voice low. "It's just- By the way Ethan sometimes speaks of him, I don't think he's that good of a person."
And it figures.
The minute Danny finds someone who's nice and loves him and fits in well with all of his friends, the guy has an asshole brother.
A twin brother, at that.
Stiles sombers, lips pressing thin, "Do I need to talk to my dad?"
Danny's shoulders slump as he brings a hand up to run through his hair, "I don't think so. What I got from Ethan is that he's more of a dick than a criminal."
"Which means he's a bit of a criminal," Stiles narrows his eyes.
Danny looks helplessly at him.
"Don't worry, Danny boy," Stiles says, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll mention it to my dad, but say it's probably nothing we should worry about. You should also talk to Jackson about this."
"You're telling me to talk to Jackson," Danny raises an eyebrow at him.
Stiles shrugs, "He's your best friend. I think he should know. And I also think he'll want in if we have to do some ass-kicking."
Danny sighs, looking skyward.
"I have no idea what I did to have such friends."
"You were a saint," Stiles tells him. "Because we're clearly angels sent from the heavens to grace you with our company and incredible good looks."
"No idea," Danny mutters under his breath, but Stiles can tell he's feeling a lot better about all of this then he was before.
"But seriously," Stiles says, looking at him. "We've got your back. No matter what. And Ethan's, too."
Danny nods at him, lips twitching up in a smile as he bumps their shoulders together.
"Thanks."
"That's what friends are for."
The rest of their shifts passes by in a blur of playing cards in the kitchen, making fun of whoever's gonna have to take pictures for next year's Firefighter Calendar, them getting called to take a kid who got stabbed in the thigh with a pair of scissors to the hospital, and Stiles getting more and more anxious the closer it gets to end of the day.
Danny doesn't call him on it, though, missing a chance to make Stiles' life absolute hell, but that's only because he's nervous about meeting Ethan's brother.
Especially after he talks to Jackson, just like Stiles suggested, only to have him scowl and get that glint in his eyes that means he's about to do something incredibly stupid or incredibly sweet.
Scott is the one who manages to keep them from crawling out of their skins, offering hugs and goofy grins and getting them to help him come up with something to do for his and Allison's anniversary.
Danny tells him he should find her someone with a complicated medical condition so she can operate and be a badass and save lives.
Jackson tells him he should find her someone with a complicated medical condition so she can operate and be a badass and save lives. And then they can have life-assuring or reassuring sex in one of the on-call rooms.
Stiles tells him he should find her someone with a complicated medical condition so she can operate and be a badass and save lives. And then they can have life-assuring or reassuring sex in one of the on-call rooms. And then take her to a romantic dinner at the hospital's cafeteria.
Scott makes a face and tells them they suck.
Stiles hugs them all goodbye when he clocks out - yes, even Jackson, going as far as kissing him soundly on the cheek before Jackson can react and push him away -, making sure to squeeze Danny extra hard.
"You'll be fine," Stiles tells him. "And if not, call me."
"Same to you," Danny nods. "And I hope you guys have a good time tonight."
To which Stiles winks at him, grinning wildly as he says, "We will."
As it turns out, getting dressed for their first date after the fight is just as nerve-wrecking as dressing for their official first date had been.
Only this time Stiles doesn't have the help of Allison and Scott's moral support, with Allison being at work and Scott having promised his mom he would take some time to fix things that needed fixing in her house.
And, you know, panic attacks aside.
At least for now.
Not that he thinks he'll have one, as he laces his shoes and gets up to grab a jacket to throw over his light blue button down.
Because Derek's going to be there any minute now, and if Stiles hasn't freaked out yet, then he probably won't anymore.
He stares at himself in the mirror one last time to make sure his hair is passable, and he can't help but smile at his reflection as he takes in the slight flush on his his cheeks from excitement.
It makes him look good.
Actually, scratch that.
It makes him look really fucking hot.
Which is exactly when his phone beeps in his pocket, signaling a new text message.
From: Derek
I'm here.
Stiles grins as he grabs his wallet and keys and goes out, heart racing in his chest when he gets to the front of his building and sees that not only Derek is there, but he's there in his bike.
And if there's one thing Stiles missed the fuck out of, that thing was riding on a bike with Derek.
You know, behind him.
Pressed up against him and with Stiles' arms around his waist and the wind and Derek's pine needle scent in his nose.
"Hey," Stiles says as he gets closer.
Only to stop short of Derek, suddenly feeling a little unsure of himself.
Because he doesn't know if taking things slow means it's not okay for Stiles to kiss him.
Not that he has to dwell on that for long, with Derek wrapping his fingers around Stiles' wrist and tugging him forward, pecking him lightly on the lips before pulling back and saying, "Hi."
Well, that settles it.
"So where are you taking me?" Stiles asks, rocking back on his heels as he laces their fingers together and gives Derek's hand a squeeze.
"To the movies, like I told you," Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles can tell by the curl in his lips that he's amused. "And maybe to eat something, if you don't have your fill with that disgusting thing you deem worthy of being called a movie snack."
"You'll never make me give up on my love for buttery popcorn," Stiles bats his lashes at him, laughing when Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Stiles is a little surprised by how easy this is, being with Derek again.
He doesn't really know if he expected things to be a little stiff and awkward after what happened, but he's glad that's not the case.
He's glad they're still them.
"C'mon," Derek says, sliding his hand out of Stiles' grip and handing him a helmet. "Hop on."
"Yes, sir," Stiles says, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.
He can see Derek's small smile as he puts the helmet on, matching the one he has as he swing a leg over and straddles the bike, arms coming around Derek's waist and holding on tight.
Riding feels just as good as it did before, if not better, since Stiles has missed it so much.
Derek takes his hand as they walk into the theater, still complaining about Stiles' food choices, even though he's the one that pays for it.
Along with drinks for both of them and gummi bears for himself.
Stiles doesn't really pay attention to what's showing, too busy basking in the wonderfulness that is cuddling up to Derek in a dark movie theater.
About fifteen minutes into the movie Derek got his arm around the back of Stiles' seat, leaving all the space Stiles could ever want to slide down a little and settle flush by his side.
They don't kiss, though, and Stiles doesn't mind.
He likes this, just spending time with Derek, sharing the same space while they do something together.
Especially when Derek takes him to get pizza afterwards, sitting down in front of Stiles when the hostess directs them to a booth, and bumping their feet together.
At first Stiles thinks it's an accident, like Derek was moving and accidentally hit him.
The second time gets Stiles suspicious, but given that it happened when Derek was leaning forward to grab a slice of pizza, he lets it pass.
The third time, though, he can't ignore.
Mostly because he can feel Derek's foot sliding up his pants leg and-
"Derek Hale," Stiles says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Are you trying to play footsie with me?"
Stiles has to say he particularly enjoys the way Derek freezes with his soda halfway up his mouth, eyes going wide and ears turning red as he stares at Stiles and tries to act like he has no idea what the fuck Stiles is talking about.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, really?" Stiles licks his lips slowly. "So you weren't trying to do this," Stiles bumps their feet together lightly, "Or this," and rubs his ankle against Derek's, "Or this," and then slowly slides his foot up and down Derek's caf.
The blush on Derek's ears runs down to his cheeks and neck, and it takes him a couple of tries for him to say, "No," even though it comes out sounding more like groan than anything else.
Stiles grins.
And drops his feet and leans back, grabbing his own drink and taking a sip before saying, "My bad, then."
Derek ducks his head, own lips forming a faint smile as he looks up at Stiles from under his lashes and says, "I don't know why I like you."
Stiles' only response to that is to blow him a kiss.
And stuff his face with more pizza.
And later, when Derek parks in front of his building and walks Stiles to the entry, to cup Derek's face between his hands and kiss him slowly and sweetly before letting him go.
To: Derek
chief finstock caught greenberg trying to eat the sandwich he left in the fridge for lunch and now greenberg is in bathroom cleaning duty for the entire week and i love my life xoxo
To: Derek
DID I TELL YOU SCOTTS WINNING THE KITTEN RESCUE BET BECAUSE HE IS AND JACKSON IS SULKING AND THE WORLD IS A WONDERFUL PLACE
To: Derek
i found a spider in my bathroom today.
To: Derek
i had to call my dad to come kill it for me so i could shower.
To: Derek
he brought mrs. mccall along.
To: Derek
she laughed at me the entire time they were here.
To: Derek
derek why is life so hard :((
"I don't think I ever told you this," Derek says as he sees him, hands deep in his pockets. "But you look good in that."
That being the leather jacket Allison found in his closet the night of his and Derek's first date that he has no idea where the fuck it came from.
It's been his go-to jacket whenever he has to go out at night these days, with the weather being a little chillier than before.
You know, since it's fall and all.
And he's gotta say, he kind of agrees with Derek.
Whenever he looks at himself and sees how the leather sits on his shoulders, the contrast of it against his pale skin, he thinks he looks pretty fucking good. So to know that his boyfriend approves is only another good thing to add to the list.
"I look good in anything, thank you very much," Stiles tells him, smiling against Derek's mouth when he leans in to kiss him.
"I don't know why I even try to compliment you anymore," Derek mutters, breath ghosting over Stiles' lips.
"'S cos I'm awesome, boo," Stiles says, ignoring Derek's snort as he rubs their noses together before stepping back.
"You call me boo again and I'll leave you here."
Stiles huffs, "You know riding around town is only fun when I'm with you."
"I don't know. I kind of miss the days where I could go out without someone behind me calling me dumb names all night."
"You like my dumb names," Stiles sticks his tongue out at him. "And just be glad I don't call you something worse. Like schnookums. Or cuddle muffin. Or huggy bear. Or-"
Stiles gets cut off by Derek's palm covering his mouth, which he instantly darts his tongue out to lick.
Derek doesn't flinch.
He just stares at him with serious and intense eyes and says, "I'll let you call me boo if you never think of calling me cuddle muffin or," Derek makes a face. "Or huggy bear. Ever again."
Stiles smiles in glee at having Derek say both the words cuddle muffin and huggy bear, even though Derek can't see it, but nods.
That's a sacrifice he's willing to make.
Derek gives him a long look before he drops his hand, nodding at Stiles once and saying, "Good."
"Can we go see the pretty lights now?" Stiles asks him, licking his lips.
Derek sighs, long-suffering, but says, "Yes."
And Stiles really can't resist but stealing a kiss before hopping on the bike.
The pretty lights are actually Derek driving them around the highest spots in Beacon Hills, where they can look down at the town and see all the houses and buildings alight.
It's one of Stiles' favorite things to do, taking in all the little spots of light and thinking about how they all represent a family, a person, or a group of people, all leading different lives then he is, all with different problems and thoughts and feelings.
It sometimes made him feel lonely, doing this, which is one of the reasons why he brought Derek along one night.
Because Derek also seemed lonely, and Stiles thought that, maybe, they could feel alone together.
They lean against the bike to stare down at the town, their shoulders brushing, Stiles' hands in his pockets while Derek crosses his arms in front of his chest.
They don't speak, not here.
Here they just let themselves be, let themselves get lost in a sea of lights and the warmth of someone's body next to theirs.
And when they get ready to leave and Derek gets a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him forward, slotting their lips together as he licks his way into Stiles' mouth, Stiles finds himself not feeling so lonely anymore.
From: Derek
Isaac found a box of kittens in front of the garage this morning.
From: Derek
I don't know who left them there in the cold with no water and food instead of taking them to the vets but I hope they break something.
From: Derek
Laura got her heel stuck between the floor wooden planks in the attic and fell face down on Erica's chest.
From: Derek
Cora filmed the whole thing.
From: Derek
Isaac and Cora adopted a kitten.
From: Derek
Who they brought to live in my loft.
From: Derek
And who likes to sleep in my bed when I'm not on it and on my face when I am.
From: Derek
They named him Lucifer.
It's the middle of October and Stiles is at the end of his shift, halfway across the parking lot to his car, keys jingling in his hand when his phone buzzes in his jacket's pocket.
He doesn't really stop to look at it, not right away, settling for opening the Jeep's door and throwing his backpack in the back seat before climbing inside.
When he does stick a hand in his jeans and grabs his phone, it's to have his heart speed up as he reads the message he just received.
From: Derek
I have my first therapy session in a few minutes.
Stiles blinks down at the screen, eyes going a little wide as he rereads the message a couple more times.
He figured it'd take Derek a little longer before he started feeling secure enough in his decision to get help for him to start looking for doctors, and then a few more for him to actually start seeing someone, but apparently he was wrong.
It actually makes him happy to see Derek determined to work through his issues, knowing he's finally realized that his relationship with Kate wasn't a good one, that she wasn't a good person, that what she did was wrong.
But Stiles knows that starting therapy can make someone rather anxious, you know, about the prospect of telling a stranger about everything you think is wrong with you, so he doesn't even think twice before calling Derek's number instead of replying to his text.
Derek answers on the second ring, voice low as he says, "Hey."
"Hey," Stiles says, fingers drumming against his steering wheel. "You nervous?"
Derek doesn't answer him right away, Stiles hearing the creaking of leather as Derek moves.
"A little," Derek says in a tone that tells Stiles not only is he nervous, but he's also uncomfortable as fuck. "For some reason they're playing a succession of indie rock bands in the background."
Stiles laughs at that, taking the change of subject, "You singing along?"
"Stiles," Derek breathes out, sounding all kinds of fond.
He doesn't deny it, though, which gives Stiles the best mental image of Derek frowning and trying to pretend he's not muttering the lyrics while tapping his foot to the rhythm of whatever song is playing.
"I remember the classical music I had to listen to," Stiles tells him. "Especially because every time the session was over and I went to look for my dad, I'd find him asleep in one of the waiting room sofas."
"You went to therapy?" Derek asks, sounding surprised.
Stiles opens and closes his mouth, forgetting Derek doesn't really know everything there is to know about him.
He forgets it, sometimes, because of the way it feels like Derek's been in his life forever.
So he swallows hard before saying quietly, "After my mom died I started having panic attacks. I tried hiding them from my dad because I didn't want him to worry about me, but one day at school someone said something that reminded me of her and I just- They had to call him to come pick me up. Two weeks later he was taking me to see someone."
"How old were you?"
"Around nine," Stiles mutters, hearing Derek's intake of breath.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Derek says, tone filled with understanding of what is like to lose a parent.
Stiles makes a little noise at the back of his throat, because there's really nothing he can say to that.
"Dad always made sure Scott was around after my sessions," Stiles tells him. "He'd drop me off at his house or Mrs. McCall would bring him over, and we'd spend the rest of the day together, running around and playing video games and daring each other to do dumb kid stuff. It took my mind off things."
"Scott's a good friend," Derek says.
To which Stiles snorts and dutifully corrects him, "Scott is the best friend."
Derek lets out a small laugh, Stiles smiling down at his lap as he tries to soak up the sounds of Derek's laughter.
He hasn't heard it much, and he hopes that with Derek getting help, he'll hear it more often.
"I'll have to hang up soon," Derek says, sounding regretful.
"I know," Stiles says, and then adds, "You'll be fine."
Derek sighs, deep and heavy, "Yeah," and Stiles can hear him gulping before saying, "I hope so."
"You will. And you can call me later if you need someone to talk to, alright?"
"I don't know if-," Derek starts, clearing his throat. "I don't know if I'll be the best company. Afterwards. Or if I'll be able to talk about it. But- I- Thank you. For offering."
"Hey," Stiles says softly. "I'll always listen, okay? If you want to talk about it, or if you don't and want to talk about something else, you can always come to me. I won't ask you questions about what happened inside, because that's between you and your doctor, so don't feel like you owe me some kind of explanation. Because you don't. But if you want to share it with me, you can do it in your own time, and I'll be here."
Stiles lets that statement hang between them, listening to the faint sounds of Derek breathing through the phone.
"Thank you," Derek says, tone heavy. "Thanks. I don't know if- I don't know if I'll be able- Or if I'll want to talk after- So if I don't call you today then-"
"We'll talk tomorrow," Stiles finishes for him. "Or the day after tomorrow. We don't need to talk tonight if you're not up for it. Or if you need more time, just text me and let me know. I'll stay away for a bit."
"You won't mind?" Derek asks, and Stiles can hear the surprised in his voice.
"If you let me know about it, I won't," Stiles tells him honestly. "You told me you needed to do this by yourself, and I'm going to respect that. If you need time, I'll give it to you. My problem is when you shut me out and push me away, not when you talk to me about the things you want or need. So as long as we communicate, we're gonna be fine."
There's only silence coming from Derek's end, and then the voice of someone calling his name.
"I have to go," Derek says, and Stiles can hear the shuffle of fabric of him getting up. "I'll talk- I'll let you know. If I need- I'll let you know."
"Okay," Stiles says, and then adds, "Good luck, baby."
"Thanks, Bunny."
Derek ends the call, and Stiles is left with the feeling like something important just happened, like something was settled, resolved.
He pockets his phone, turns on the ignition, and drives off the parking lot and back to his apartment.
And if he hums along with the radio all the way home, a small smile on his lips, what can he do?
"You okay?"
Stiles looks up at Allison as she hands him a beer and flops down on the couch beside him, propping her feet on top of his coffee table.
He brings his bottle up to take a sip, staring down at his phone and the new text he just got from Derek.
From: Derek
One more day.
It's Sunday night and this is the first contact they've had in the two days since Derek and Stiles' call about his first therapy session, and Stiles doesn't know whether to feel relieved Derek listened to what he had to say about them communicating and Derek not pushing Stiles away or to be worried because Derek still needs time to deal with whatever was said during his consultation.
He still replies with a okay we'll talk tomorrow then, though, because as curious as he is about what made Derek feel like he needs time to regroup he told Derek he wouldn't ask him anything about what happened.
But that still doesn't stop him from picking at the label of his beer and saying, "I'm worried about Derek."
He sees Allison taking her feet off the table from the corner of his eye, hears the clinking of glass and wood as she places her glass of water on top of it and the shuffle of fabric as she turns on her side to look at him.
And feels the sharp jab of her finger connecting with his side as she pokes him and says, "Spill."
Stiles figures if there's one person he should talk to about this, that's Allison.
They've talked a little about what went on between Derek and Kate, with Allison having heard from Scott about Stiles going to see him.
It was mostly Stiles telling her that apparently Kate made no mention of having a brother or a niece when she was with Derek, and that the abuse she suffered was similar to Derek's.
So Allison probably gets it, better than anyone, what might be going through Derek's head right now.
"He- uhm," Stiles clears his throat, not knowing if it's okay for him to share this but doing it anyway because it's not like he's going to pretend he doesn't want to talk about this. "He started therapy on Friday. I told him if he needed some time, he should just let me know. And he- He let me know. He just texted me saying he needs one more day to- Well, you know. And I'm worried. About what might have made him need that time."
"Oh," Allison purses her lips together.
"Oh?" Stiles looks at her, eyebrows raised.
Because that oh totally means she has inside knowledge about what might be going on.
And there goes Stiles feeling guilty for taking advantage of that to stop himself from worrying.
Allison looks at him for a few beats, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she thinks, while Stiles takes another sip of his beer.
"You know that sometimes what you say when you're in a consultation sticks with you even after it's over, right?"
Stiles nods, because he does know that.
"Sometimes it takes you a little bit more time to shake that off," Allison keeps going, her voice low. "With me, sometimes it took me right back to where I was before."
Stiles turns to her at that, swallowing as he starts to figure out where this is going and why Derek might need some time away after all.
And kind of feeling like an asshole for not having thought of that before Allison, who's pretty sensitive to this subject, brings to his attention.
"I felt like I had screwed up again," Allison tells him. "By not being strong enough to brush that off. I got trapped in that mind set Kate put me on, and it was like I was right back there with her looking over my shoulder and listing everything that was wrong with me."
Stiles lets out a deep sigh, scrubbing his face with a hand.
Yep, total asshole.
He remembers enough from his own therapy days that on some days when he had to talk about his buried guilt over his mom's death, especially when the doctor tried to tell him it wasn't his fault, it'd only make him feel even worse about it all.
So it's no wonder Derek might feel the same when forced to talk about his relationship with Kate.
And the fact that he actually texted Stiles to let him know he'd need more time means a lot more than Stiles realized it did.
There's a lot of self-doubt and misplaced guilt and shame that resurfaces when telling someone about what happened, and that can mess up with the rest of your life if you still don't really know how to handle it," Allison continues, placing a hand on his arm. "It's good that you told him he could take the time he needed to settle his head, so that way he knows he doesn't have to feel guilty about not talking to you or feel like he did something wrong."
Stiles' shoulders slump as he lets his head fall back against the back of the couch, placing a hand on top of Allison's and giving it a squeeze when she threads their fingers together.
"This isn't going to be easy, is it?"
"Nope," Allison shakes her head, shrugging one shoulder. "But you already knew that."
Stiles doesn't have anything to say to that, because he did know.
And not only that, but he embraced it.
"You'll be okay," Allison smiles sweetly at him. "Both of you."
"You think so?"
Allison nods, "I know so. I also know I'm hungry and you promised to feed me."
Stiles snorts, feeling a little bit better and less worried about this whole thing now that he's spoken to her.
He still feels like a dick, though, but that's nothing new.
"What do you want from dinner?"
As it turns out, what Allison wants is sushi, which Stiles happily agrees with, grabbing his phone and placing their order.
"Now, moving on to lighter topics," Allison says as they wait for their food, getting a glint in her eyes that tells Stiles something good is about to go down.
"And by that, you mean gossip," Stiles corrects her, snickering when Allison kicks him in the thigh.
"Did I tell you about couples yoga?" Allison wiggles her eyebrows at him, biting down on her bottom lip.
Stiles wrinkles his nose at her, "I don't want to know about what kind of kinky foreplay you and Scott engage in with the help of spandex and stretching, thank you very much."
"Stiles," Allison gasps, all mock offense, going as far as clutching at her imaginary pearls. And then grinning wickedly at him as she says, "Then I guess you don't want to see the pictures I have of Scott helping Jackson stretch? Or of them doing some poses? Or of-"
"What."
Stiles thinks his brain might have broken.
Because there's no way Allison just told him she has pictures of Scott and Jackson doing yoga together.
He must have misheard her.
Really.
There's no other possibility than the fact that Stiles is having some pretty realistic hallucinations in the form of Allison telling him his best friend and Jackson were doing yoga.
Together.
"What," Stiles says again, blinking at her.
And gaping like a fish.
And not even managing to make the word sound like a question.
Because Scott and Jackson and couples yoga.
Allison just nods at him, grabbing her phone, "Remember when Ethan told us about the yoga classes he teaches for couples?"
Stiles vaguely remembers something about that, that night at Danny's, while Derek and Lydia talked about Derek maybe wanting to look for another place to live.
"Kind of."
"Well," Allison says, eyes on her phone as she looks for something. "I told him I'd be interested in maybe taking a couple of classes, and he said all I had to do was call whenever Scott and I wanted to come in and he'd pencil us in."
"Then what does Jackson-"
"When I called," Allison talks over him, lips twitching up. "Lydia was with me. She asked me to tell Ethan she and Jackson would also be making an appearance somewhere near the future."
Stiles still can't grasp the concept of Jackson doing couples yoga, although he should know Lydia is capable of making him do anything she wants to.
Or that she's capable of making anyone do anything she wants to, really.
Fighting her is useless.
Stiles knows by now he should just give in and hope for the best.
And apparently Jackson does, too.
"So when we got to our class," Allison keeps going, phone clutched in her hand. "Ethan started talking about how couples yoga serves to strengthen people's relationships because of the trust you have to put in someone not to drop you on your ass. And that it forces people to talk about things and learn stuff about each other while they're doing it."
Stiles purses his lips together, wondering if that's something Derek would be interested in.
"And then when he told us to grab our partners and choose a mat," Allison tells him, dimples showing. "Scott and Jackson came to ask me and Lydia if would we mind doing stuff together while they partner up."
"I- They- What," Stiles sputters, staring at Allison with wide eyes.
He assumed the reason why Jackson and Scott had to do things together was because the girls decided they wanted to be partners, and not the other way around.
Because Stiles has seen Scott and Jackson fighting whenever they had to work together since, well, since ever.
Nothing they've ever done with each other has happened without them previously fighting like hell about it, so the fact that they were the ones who took the initiative to do this kind of blows Stiles' mind.
And gives him so much blackmail material.
And also a sense of betrayal for finding out about this through Allison and not his best friend in the fucking world.
"Yep," Allison smiles sweetly. "They told us they think using that time to work on their differences will help them in the long run while they're at work, so they'd like to give it a try. It was pretty cute, actually. Even Lydia thought so."
And Lydia doesn't think anything's cute is what Allison doesn't say, but Stiles knows it's implied.
He also knows that sometimes Scott and Jackson's difference in opinion gets in the way of how they do things at the firehouse, so having them willingly work on that without having Finstock breathing down their necks and yelling at them to get their shit together or threatening to demote them from their current positions is actually a pretty big deal.
So much of a big deal that Stiles doesn't think he'll be able to make fun of them for it without feeling like the worst human being in the fucking planet.
Because if they kept it a secret from him and Danny, then it's because they're serious about doing this and working things out, and having Stiles or anyone else mock them for it will only put them back right where they started.
Fighting each other every step along the way.
"Damn Scott and his heart of gold," Stiles mutters, making Allison laugh. "I can't even make fun of them for this."
"Not to their faces, at least," Allison says, waving her phone in front of Stiles' face.
Stiles' eyes follow the movement before he plucks the phone out of Allison's grasp, "You're a horrible horrible influence."
"You love me," Allison sing-songs, grinning when Stiles scowls at her and looks down at the first picture.
That has both Scott and Jackson sitting on top of a blue yoga mat, facing each other, and holding hands.
"I hate you so much for this," Stiles hisses, because this is gold and the source of so many good jokes that Stiles won't be able to make.
Because even though he's an asshole, he's not that much of one.
He can recognize something good when he sees it, and Jackson and Scott doing couples yoga is just that.
Because they're making an effort, and Stiles would never take that away from them.
He flicks his thumb through the screen, pressing his lips together as his eyes rake over pictures of Scott and Jackson doing a variation of yoga poses, Jackson's face twisted in concentration, Scott's dopey smile when they manage to get something right.
Allison offers a stream of comments for every photo, telling Stiles how they both kept screwing up the poses at the beginning, the two of them too busy being nasty to each other to try and work together.
But that as the class progressed, with Ethan stopping by a few times and talking to them, they started getting better, started communicating and trusting each other, and then wiped the floor with everyone by maintaining the best form during the last poses Ethan had them do at the end of the class.
"Ethan looked kind of impressed," Allison says, resting her cheek on Stiles' shoulder as he goes through that last couple of pictures again. "He actually used them as an example to show everyone that by talking to and trusting each other we can overcome the most difficult situations."
Stiles blinks at the screen in front of him, thinking that Allison is trying to make a point.
Like, let's say, Stiles and Derek talking about things will help them along the way with Derek wanting to work on getting better.
So he narrows his eyes and says, "You're trying to make a point, aren't you?"
"I don't know," Allison lifts her head up to stare at him with wide innocent eyes that do not fool him. "Am I?"
"I stand corrected," Stiles tells her. "You are a horrible person and I hate you."
Allison sticks out her tongue at him, taking her phone from Stiles' hand and placing it on the coffee table.
"Why did you show me that?" Stiles asks her. "Because it's not like I'm a terrible person enough to use the fact that Scott and Jackson do couples yoga against my best friend and Jackson, when he's clearly doing this to be, you know, a better person. Which is something he really needs to work on, to be honest."
"I thought you'd appreciate it," Allison says, in a way that clearly means she is trying to make a point.
That maybe Stiles should take Derek to couples yoga so they can work on their many issues and strengthen their relationship and trust on each other.
All the while working on their flexibility.
Or that maybe they should keep doing what they're doing and talk about things they want, need, or feel.
He's saved from having to give her an answer by the arrival of their food, Allison helping him set everything on his coffee table and grabbing two couch cushions to place on the floor so they can seat and eat.
"You have no idea how much I've missed this," Allison practically moans as she eyes the food in front of them, as if not knowing where to start.
"You mean hanging out with the awesomeness that is Stiles Stilinski?" Stiles bats his lashes at her, grinning.
Sure," Allison says slowly, patting him on the cheek.
"You wound me," Stiles pouts, snorting when Allison just rolls her eyes at him.
"You know I practically don't eat this stuff anymore," Allison says, gesturing to all the food. "Not since Scott's shrimp accident."
"Yeah," Stiles winces. "That wasn't fun. But you can always come to me if you need your sushi fix. Or Jackson. But we both know who's the better company between us two."
They talk about how things are going at the hospital while they eat, Allison telling him about the two interns she caught having sex in one of the supply closets, the kid who threw up on Dr. Harris and forced him to wear pink scrubs the rest of the day because the were the only ones available, and the guy who tried to feel Lydia up only to find himself lying flat on the ground with her feet on his chest and a broken nose.
"Oh, my fearless warrior queen," is all Stiles says to that, sighing dreamily.
Stiles fills her in what's happening at the firehouse, with Scott and Jackson's kitten rescue bet, Danny once again being propositioned by one of their elderly patients, and Chief Finstock reminding everyone that soon they'll have to pose for next year's calendar.
"That calendar is amazing," Allison breathes out, eyes going a little unfocused as she licks her lips and undoubtedly thinks about Scott in only firefighter pants.
Dripping wet.
And holding a hose while staring straight at the camera, lips curled up in a faint smirk.
Because that's the shot of Scott they choose for his month in the calendar.
And the shot of Scott Stiles wishes he'd never seen.
He still has nightmares about it.
Seeing Allison fantasize about his best friend's body aside, sometimes Stiles forgets how much he likes spending alone time with Allison.
He remembers thinking of her only as Scott's girlfriend for the first few months after they started dating, and how it took him actually seeing her in action and keep her calm when she was sent in the field to help them with a collapse in a mall in a town near Beacon Hills to realize she was more than just his best friend's plus one.
It also helped seeing her put Jackson in his place when he tried to stand in her way and insinuated she had no idea what she was doing there, in the middle of it all.
And the fact that she also knows how to shoot and was the only person excited enough about it to accompany Stiles when he went to the shooting range also might have given her bonus points.
So it's nice to have her here, eating dinner with him, and reassuring everything will be okay by telling him about couples yoga.
In a way, he feels a lot closer to her now that he knows about what happened to her when she was a kid, as if having her tell him about everything she went through and still coming out on the other side as one of the strongest women he's ever known makes him love her even more than he already did.
And finding himself feeling extremely protective of her when she starts dropping as soon as they finish eating, leaning her back against the couch and yawning.
It's actually so cute Stiles even goes as far as grabbing his phone and taking a few pictures, sending them to Scott.
"Stop it," Allison says as she tries to swat his hand away, whatever she's about to say next being replaced by another yawn. "Ugh, I must have been more tired than I thought."
"Which means I get to drive your pretty little ass home," Stiles gives her a long look, trying his best to look put out.
Only to have her yawn in his face again.
Stiles snorts, shaking his head at her as he gets up and extends a hand to help her stand.
"Thanks," Allison mumbles, taking her purse when Stiles hands it to her.
"No problem, Ally."
Stiles is actually kind of impressed with Allison's ability to go from awake to almost asleep in the span of five minutes as they get out of his apartment and he helps her into the Jeep, making sure she's buckled up before climbing in and sending a quick text to Scott.
To: Scott
outside of your building 20min i have a very special delivery for you
Who is waiting outside when Stiles parks the car, jogging up to them and waving.
"Dude," Stiles whispers when Scott stops by the passenger's side door. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone fall asleep this fast."
Scott looks at Allison's sleeping form and presses his lips together, shaking his head.
"I don't know what's been going on in the hospital, but she's coming home only to pass out as soon as her face hits the pillow," Scott tells him. "Did she say anything?"
"Not to me," Stiles says, frowning at her. "Lydia should know, though, if anything's happening. Or your mom."
Scott nods, "I'll talk to them."
Stiles doesn't like seeing Scott worried, but it's not like he can do anything he didn't just suggest Scott to do, so he settles for helping him get Allison out of the car and up to his apartment.
He gets stopped by a hand curling around his wrist when he grabs Scott's keys from him to open his front door, and when he looks back at Scott is to see Allison starting at him, eyes blurry with sleep as Scott holds her up.
"Remember," she says, staring at Stiles straight in the eye. "Couples yoga."
And Stiles doesn't even try and pretend he's not laughing at Scott's horrified face when he realizes what Allison just said.
There's a hand on Stiles' shoulder.
There's a hand on Stiles' shoulder turning him around and pushing him against the side of his Jeep and fingers digging into his skin.
"Don't tell anyone."
"Dude," Stiles hisses, karate chopping Scott's hand loose from his arm. "Bad Scotty."
"Sorry," Scott says sheepishly, eyes darting around the parking lot before he leans in closer and whispers, "Don't tell anyone."
Stiles makes a face at him, rubbing at the skin of his arm where Scott dug his nails in.
"Seriously, man," Scott looks pleadingly at him. "If Jackson finds out someone other than Allison and Lydia know, he'll stop doing it. And that'd be really bad for us because it works, okay? Couples yoga works and we've been a lot better about things when we're working because we know we can trust each other to have the other's back. So please, please don't tell anyone about it."
Stiles huffs, rolling his eyes with his entire body.
"Buddy," he says, resting his hands on Scott's shoulders. "I know. Why do you think I did tell everyone as soon as I got in? I know this is something important for both of you and that it'll help you guys work together and not do dumb stuff on the field, so there's no way I'll mess with that," Stiles pauses, purses his lips together. "Well, at least not to anyone who's not Allison and Lydia. Because you've gotta admit. You and Jackson doing couples yoga? That's one of the best things that have ever happened to me."
Stiles doesn't even try to duck when Scott hits him in the stomach, breathlessly laughing at his best friend when he just looks skyward, hands on his hips, as if wondering what the fuck he did to deserve this.
"I mean it, Scott," Stiles says, voice lowering as he tries to tell him this is serious. "I won't tell. You don't have to worry about it."
Scott gives him a long and heavy look before sighing, entire body slumping in relief.
"Thanks, dude."
"No problem," Stiles says, patting him on the side of his neck before letting his hands drop. "Now, do you have anything else you'd like to talk to me about after cornering me outside of my Jeep, or can I go grocery shopping?"
It's Scott's turn to roll his eyes at him, making a shooing gesture with his hand as he says, "Go ahead. Buy your groceries. And make sure you grab some of those pretzel bags for me for when I come over."
Stiles blinks at him.
Scott blinks back.
"Oh, you're serious."
"I don't joke about food," Scott says flatly, only for his face to break into a smile a second later.
Stiles groans, running a hand over his face while Scott keeps smiling at his own joke.
"I'm gonna go now," Stiles tells him, pointing at his car.
"Okay," Scott says, going as far as opening the driver's door and gesturing for Stiles to get inside.
Which Stiles does, buckling his seatbelt, and pointedly ignoring Scott's shout of, "Don't forget my pretzels!" as he turns on the ignition and drives away.
To grocery shop.
Which is something he's not particularly fond of, but ever since watching what a fucking god Isaac is at the task, he's gotten better at it.
You know, by implementing some of Isaac's grocery shopping strategies.
So he's about halfway done, trying to decide if he should get the original flavored pretzels or something disgusting for Scott to eat, when his phone beeps with a new message.
And makes Stiles stop short in the middle of the aisle as he reads it.
From: Derek
Can I see you tonight?
Stiles just stares at his phone, because when Derek asked him for one more day Stiles thought Derek would wait until tomorrow to want to talk to him.
And by talk Stiles means either text or call him, and not actually ask if Derek can see him.
To: Derek
i'm at the grocery store do you want anything?
And it's not like he's going to say no.
He misses Derek, and his conversation with Allison yesterday makes him want to make sure everything's okay with him.
Even if he doesn't tell him anything about what happened in therapy that had him needing three days to clear his head.
Plus, seeing Derek means kissing Derek.
And he'd never say no to that.
From: Derek
No need. Boyd is a stress baker.
Stiles gets kind of lost in imagining Boyd baking anything, let alone doing it as a form of stress relief, so he startles when his phone chimes again.
From: Derek
45min. Your house?
To: Derek
see you then
Thirty minutes later when Stiles is putting away all of his groceries, he's kind of impressed with himself at how fast he finished shopping.
And then he's freaking out a little because this is the first time Derek's going to be in his apartment since the dinner at Danny's, and Stiles' place is sort of in chaos.
By that he means there are dirty dishes in the sink and clothes thrown over the couch and on the floor of his bedroom.
Not that he's thinking Derek will be in his bedroom anytime soon, but after he finishes the dishes and grabs the clothes in the living room, he still feels a lot better when everything is put away and there's no visible evidence of him being a total slob.
And right on time, really.
Because as soon as he closes his closet door, his doorbell rings.
He buzzes Derek in, looking around his apartment and running his hands through his hair and feeling more nervous than he's been in a while.
So nervous he actually jumps in place when Derek knocks on the door, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down before opening it.
"Oh, wow, you really weren't kidding when you said Boyd is a stress baker."
Derek glares at him from the top of three cupcakes boxes, shouldering past Stiles and into the apartment, making his way towards the kitchen.
Stiles closes the door and follows after him.
"The opening is close," Derek says as he places the boxes on top of the counter. "Mom is driving him crazy."
That stops Stiles short.
"Opening?"
Derek's gaze snaps back at him, a thousand expressions crossing his face at once, before he nods and says, "Of the bar. It's going to be on Halloween."
"Oh," is all Stiles says, because, I mean, really.
They haven't really talked about this since the time Mrs. Hale mentioned it to Stiles and Derek told him maybe it was best for him not to go, so he doesn't know what's expected of him right now.
That is until Derek takes a deep breath and shifts on his heels, frowning a little in the way that he does when he wants to say something but doesn't quite know how.
Stiles waits, like he always does.
"There are invitations," Derek starts, not really looking at Stiles. "For the party. I'm- I still haven't stopped by to get them. For you. And- And for your friends. If you want them."
That surprised Stiles so much that for a few seconds all he can do is gape at Derek, not really knowing what to say.
Derek fills the silence for him.
"I know we- At first, I didn't- But I want you there," Derek tells him, licking his lips. "I'd like if- If you went to the party. With me."
Stiles snaps his mouth closed with a click, lips stretching in a lazy smile as he looks at Derek and drawls out, "Derek Hale, are you trying to ask me to be your date to your family's Halloween Party?"
The look Derek gives him can only be described as someone regretting their entire life choices, but he still gives him a jerky nod, "Yes."
"Good," Stiles says, beaming at him. "I accept."
For some reason, that doesn't seem to make Derek relax, and just as Stiles is about to ask him what's wrong, Derek says, "What about- What about your friends?"
Stiles blinks at him, considering.
He knows they'd all like to go, considering they haven't really made any plans for Halloween yet - never mind it's only about two weeks away -, but he doesn't want to push for a meeting if Derek's not going to be comfortable with it.
"If you're okay with it," Stiles says. "Really okay with it, I think they'd like to show up. Even though we know it's a recipe for disaster to have all of our friends under the same roof. I think it'd be nice."
"I-," Derek starts. "I think it's be- I think it'd be good, if they could come. I know I haven't made the best impressi-"
"Hey," Stiles raises a hand, stopping him. "None of that. We've already had this conversation. They're not mad at you for reacting the way you did. They were just worried. And the only impression you made was of someone who makes me happy, and that's what matters to them. Nothing else."
Derek looks at him like he's not really convinced, but he doesn't try to say anything else about him not being good enough.
"Are you okay with them being invited, though?" Stiles can't help but ask. "With- With Allison-"
"I'd like to meet her," Derek interrupts him. "I think- If it's like this. In a party. It'll be less pressure on us if we have other people around."
Stiles knows that by other people Derek means a support net, and he can't say he disagrees.
Just like when Scott told him Allison wanted to meet Derek, he thinks this is a good idea.
So he just nods, "Okay."
"Okay," Derek says, body relaxing as if Stiles just took some weight off his shoulders. "I'll give you the invitations later."
"Alright," Stiles gives him a small smile. "Now that we got that out of the way. Are you going to kiss me hello or?"
Derek rolls his eyes, but Stiles can see the ghost of a smile in his lips as he walks up to him, hands settling in Stiles' hips as he leans in and brushes their lips together.
It's a sweet kiss, albeit a short one, but Stiles doesn't try to keep him in place when Derek pulls away.
"We better put the cupcakes in the fridge," Derek tells him, turning to the mountain of boxes on top of the counter.
"Just let me take a few first," Stiles says, and then looks back at Derek. "Are you staying?"
Derek blinks at him a couple of times before tentatively saying, "Maybe for a while."
"Okay," Stiles nods, going back to the boxes and picking a few cupcakes for him and Derek.
Derek's maybe for a while turns into a couple of hours, both of them sitting on Stiles' couch, licking their fingers clean of frosting and watching tv.
Derek doesn't tell him about what happened Friday, and Stiles doesn't ask.
But when he gets up to leave and Stiles walks him to the door, Derek mumbles a, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For giving me time," Derek tells him, leaning in and rubbing their noses together. "For not asking. For not treating me any different."
Stiles gets his hands on Derek's shoulders, fingers coming to play with the hair at his nape, "I told you I wouldn't I have to trust to to let me know if you're not okay. So you don't have to thank me for keeping to what I said."
"I am," Derek says, breath ghosting over Stiles' lips as he rests their foreheads together. "Okay. I wasn't really. Before. That's why I asked- But I'm better now."
"Good," Stiles says, lips curling up. "Good."
And as Derek closes the distance between them with a smile matching Stiles' own and kisses him, Stiles thinks Derek agrees.