The Perfection
It's evening the next day in Stiles' room. Derek is on his bed, reclining against his pillows and continuing to look through the folder of pictures. Sometimes Stiles just smiles to himself from how much time Derek is taking to look at each one. It's...flattering.
Stiles is digging through his archives on his computer and trying to organize some of the creature files he stored, just to make sure their resolutions for creatures they've faced were added to the files. Instrumental music was softly playing through his computer, a relaxing background to their respective activities.
Stiles finds the file about the scary ladybug incident, but finds himself chuckling when he remembers the picture he drew of it. Then that leads him to remembering the other pictures he's drawn and made silly. He's outright laughing now, covering his face with his hand.
"What's up?" Derek says from the bed and Stiles shakes his head.
"Nothing, nothing." Stiles focuses back on his computer, smiling, and hears shuffling paper behind him.
"What?" Derek asks again, very curious.
Stiles shrugs. "I drew some of the creatures we faced a while back. I'm just remembering."
"Which ones?"
Stiles stops scrolling and turns his desk chair to face Derek. The drawings are on Derek's lap, but his attention is completely on Stiles. "Like the ladybug thing and the pixies."
"Those are making you laugh?" Derek asks, his eyebrows going judgey. Stiles rolls his eyes.
"I drew them kind of stupidly," Stiles explains. "To make them less scary."
Derek stares at him for a moment, and for that moment, Stiles feels dumb and remembers vividly why he didn't want to share his pictures with anyone.
But then Derek nods and says, "That's clever," and Stiles hates and loves that he immediately feels validated and that his worries disappear. Derek looks back down at the drawings on his lap. "I dream about them still, sometimes." He takes a breathe as if he'll go on, but the silence continues.
Stiles picks up the conversation. "I don't anymore. I did a couple times, but." Stiles shrugs and glances from Derek's downturned face to his hands holding the papers. Stiles bites his lip then asks, "How do you usually deal with what happens to us?"
Derek looks up. "I work out."
Stiles forces his eyes to stay on Derek's face as he thinks, no shit, then says, "That's a good way to vent. Gets it out of your system."
Stiles wants to sigh when Derek at first only shrugs. Derek flips one of the drawings over onto the pile of viewed ones and quietly says, "Yea."
Stiles fingers twitch on the chair arms because that quiet 'yea' makes Stiles want to hug the hell out of him.
"Yea," Stiles repeats, and his right pointer finger starts tapping on his chair arm. "You know if at any time you want to be a wolf here, you can."
Derek looks up from his perusing and stares at Stiles until he continues.
"Just, you know, I want you to know that you can, if you ever want to. If you're sleepy and want to curl up, or if…" Stiles shrugs. "If you're stressed or like," Stiles chokes the word out because Derek is practically staring into him, "overwhelmed, you can come here."
Derek still doesn't say anything so Stiles continues, nervous. "I know you're more calm as the wolf. So when things get crazy for us again and you have a moment, you can chill here."
Derek finally breaks the silence by saying, "Thank you," and looking back down at the pictures.
Stiles sighs out as quietly as he can manage and turns back to his computer. Well, that was stressful, but Stiles thinks Derek took it well? He certainly hopes Derek didn't take it as an insult, because Stiles believes it to be fact that sometimes people need a break, especially with what's possible for the world to throw at you.
Stiles starts typing the resolution to the ladybug debacle. He gets so focused that it's jarring when Derek asks, "Do you have pictures of the pack as reference or are all of these by memory?"
Stiles stops his typing mid sentence and turns again to face Derek. "Mostly by memory, but I have some reference photos. Not of all of the pack yet, and most of them are honestly pretty shitty angles, but I'm working on it."
Derek's head tilts sideways and Stiles thinks, so wolf-like, as Derek asks, "How?"
"The picture day. I'm trying to get everyone's full face if I can find one."
"Is that why you had such an odd choice this week?" Derek smirks.
Stiles rolls his eyes. "Yes, okay. It was good position reference." Stiles starts twisting back and forth in his chair. "It was pretty shitty face reference for Boyd and Jackson, but whatever. It was a great one for Lydia."
Derek hums and looks back down at the pictures. Stiles sits up a bit and sees that he's looking at one of the collages of Scott's face. Stiles smiles at the memory then turns back to his computer, assuming correctly that the conversation is over.
The evening continues quietly until Derek leaves at midnight, when Stiles is yawning more than typing. He's getting spoiled on the lack of scary supernatural activity - his sleep schedule is almost normal now compared to what it was.
Stiles thinks about how much Derek has been visiting, and how nice it is to be quiet and chat so easily with him. They're getting to know each other a lot more now.
His chest squeezes. He'd like to get used to this.
"Smile," Derek gruffly says from inside the house, and he hears Erica cackle loudly. It's a few days later from the last time Stiles and Derek sat together in his room. Stiles doesn't know exactly what's happening in there, but he's lazy and comfortable laying on the grass so he makes no move to find out.
After a moment of low talking, the front door opens and closes. Stiles spaces out looking at the sky, rubbing the new calluses on his fingers absently. They've gone past the point of hurting and are now a perfect cushion for his pencils and pens.
"Hey." Scott appears beside him and lays down as well. "What are you looking at?"
Stiles shrugs. "The sky."
Scott looks up. "Pretty," he comments, and for a peaceful second they stare at the clouds together. Scott breaks it by saying, "Derek left with the camera a second ago so we might be left with an aggrieved Lydia."
Stiles scoffs with a smile and shakes his head. Lydia was very kind to let them use her camera for the endeavor and she certainly enjoys it as much as everyone else, but after some weeks of roughhousing over it, she's become a bit anxious whenever someone takes it out of the house. She may not have used it much, but it's a really nice camera. Too nice of a camera, frankly, for how long it sat around unused.
"I think I'm slowly remembering some chores I have to do," Stiles mumbles, and Scott shakes with laughter beside him.
They stay in the yard until Lydia gets to the house. Everyone puts in their two cents of reassurance that, yes, Derek can handle himself with the camera, and yes, he should be back soon (even though no one actually had any idea where he went in the first place), and the camera will come back in one piece. Stiles makes a show about remembering house chores but kisses Lydia's cheek on the way out to ease her glare and hilariously build up Jackson's.
Driving back home, Stiles wonders about Derek's whereabouts only briefly, and focuses instead on clearing his head during the drive. The drive home a couple weeks ago lingers in his head whenever he's alone in his car, but so far it's not so troubling as it is just a constant thought on his mind. It now paints a picture as he thinks about it, the sadness of it swirling around in greens and blues, the feeling of a good vent adding a splatter of color in purples and grays. He lets it jumble in his mind until the colors are a mess, his memory of the night becoming a rainbow of emotions instead of cold facts.
When he gets home the house is empty and he gathers snacks from the kitchen to have as he practices more drawings. He's moved on from sunflowers and started working on roses. The layering of the petals is fun for him, as is practicing the different techniques of shadowing each of them. He's trying to make it look like natural dimension so that the rose can be realistic instead of artistic.
He jogs up the stairs, hands filled with snacks, and pushes down on his doorknob with his elbow. When the door swings open a loud sneeze startles him so badly that he chokes on a gasp and drops most of his snacks on his feet.
Looking up, Wolf Derek lays innocently on his bed, staring at Stiles, unremorseful.
"Jesus," Stiles whispers harshly as he bends down for the dropped snacks. "Well, hello." He continues into his room as normal.
If he pretends this is normal, maybe it'll become true. He certainly can't outwardly express how excited he is to see that Derek took him up on his offer, because then Derek might leave, and that would suck. So Stiles continues on, normal, and drops the snacks on the floor beside his chair to have better room on his desk to draw. When he glances to the surface of the desk he sees Lydia's camera on the corner, on top of a small folder.
"Lydia is kind of freaking out," Stiles says as he turns on his computer. "I mean, if you ask her, she's fine, but really she's kind of freaking out. Make sure to bring the camera back with you or else we'll both be yelled at," Stiles smiles.
Stiles hears Wolf Derek lick his chops in response and Stiles huffs a laugh.
"Yea, okay." His computer is set up to the google image page of roses. He glances again to the camera and folder. "So, what's this?" He doesn't expect an answer as he sets the camera to the side to pick up the folder. It's light, and what's inside is small.
Stiles is ready to make a silly comment, snort, scoff, anything, but when he flips open the folder he instead goes speechless, mouth still open to speak but now staying open in shock.
It's filled with photos. The top photo is of Erica staring directly into the lense, face forward, smiling widely in front of a plain background that Stiles notices is one of the plain walls inside the house, next to the door to the backyard.
Stiles suddenly remembers, "Smile," Derek gruffly said from inside the house, and he heard Erica cackle loudly.
Stiles breathes out slowly as he stares at the best reference photo he could have ever asked for.
There are more photos behind it.
He takes the pile out of the folder and flips through them. Jackson is next, slightly frowning in irritation at the camera, but just as full frontal as Erica's. He's posed in front of the refrigerator instead. Then there's Boyd, on the porch, face passive and patient. Lydia's is against the side of the house, her face haughty with the barest hint of a smirk apparent. Scott and Isaac are both in the hallway and smiling in theirs, Scott's an awkwardly unwilling one and Isaac's a boastful one that makes Stiles huff a laugh. It's the first sound he makes since starting to look through the photos. Allison's is the last and she only has a tiny smile, impatience bleeding through her eyes, and Stiles' light huff turns into solid laughter, both from her expression and from his disbelief at what he's currently holding in his hands.
Then he flips that Allison over and the laugh abruptly dies when he sees that the next one isn't the loop back to Erica's frontal, but a new one of Erica turned to the side.
No fucking way.
Stiles flips through them faster now and one by one a side angle of everyone flips by and Stiles..he just - he can't.
"You-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, face flushing with emotion. He's a bit embarrassed by the wave of thankfulness that washes over him. He's been trying for so long to compile pictures of them all without leading to hints of his hobby, and now it's all in his hands, frankly perfect photos of them all set up in a way that he would have taken himself if he had thought he could get away with asking them all for the same pose multiple times.
Jesus, Stiles gulps, and goddamn, his heart hurts.
He hears the telltale sound of a shift and stupidly glaces up. He then hurriedly focuses on the photos again, face now red for a different reason. There's some shuffling of fabric then Derek's human feet come into Stiles line of vision. Stiles brings his legs under the chair when Derek kneels down in front of him.
Derek looks tired. He stares calmly into Stiles' eyes.
"I thought you'd want to get pictures you really like from now on," Derek whispers. "On fridays. So you don't have to…" he glances down at the photos and shrugs.
"Yea," Stiles says weakly. He feels like he's lost feeling in his whole body because of the confusion and wonderment that's taken over him. He glances across Derek's features, trying to see if he can find anything about why, because oh boy is he getting some ideas from this.
"The only people I didn't get was you and me," Derek continues, locking eyes with Stiles again. Stiles nods slowly.
"We should fix that," Stiles whispers back. He'd feel odd about ruining the quiet with his regular voice.
Derek nods in agreement and reaches for the camera. He turns it on, presses some buttons, then nods toward Stiles' blank bedroom wall. "We can get them there." As Derek stands he grabs the photos from Stiles and trades them with the camera. Stiles stares at the camera in his hands a bit dumbly as Derek heads to the wall.
"Stiles," Derek says, and breaks Stiles' reverie. Stiles shakes his head and stands from his chair.
The dark grey of Derek's shirt and the tan of his skin look stark against Stiles' bedroom wall. When Stiles holds up the camera, his hands are shaking.
He just - why? And, when? And - god.
Through the camera Stiles can see Derek looking steadily at the lens with no smile, his green eyes shiny from his sleep and the soft light trickling in from Stiles' window. Even though it isn't eye contact, the steady stare sends a shiver down Stiles' spine and he swallows down his sudden nerves. He tries to ignore his quick heartbeat and that Derek can hear it. He snaps the photo.
He did this. He took Erica's picture today, and then he left with the camera, which means she was the last, which means he's been doing it for some time, which means - holy shit, I don't know, but Derek did this, and it was for me, for me -
Once the camera clicks, Derek turns his face at an angle that Stiles doesn't need to correct. It accentuates Derek's jawline, the shadows under his cheekbones, and even his ears. Stiles quickly takes the photo before he becomes too invested in staring at the details of Derek, which he has certainly done before and could certainly fall into easily in this moment.
He's doing this for me.
The shutter clicks and Derek immediately moves away from the wall and takes the camera from Stiles' still shaking fingers. Derek looks at the photos, nods, then shows them to Stiles. "Good?"
Stiles looks to the photos and hopes his gasp wasn't audible. Good?
Fucking - god.
"Yea," Stiles replies roughly, a bit stricken by how much his belly is fluttering from this picture, from Derek, from the folder - "Yea, they're perfect. They're all perfect."
He realizes the response may have been a bit much and quickly glances to Derek. Derek's already looking at Stiles though, eyes soft and contemplative, and Stiles' eyes quickly dart away again, startled.
"Go," Derek encourages quietly. Stiles nods and goes to the wall, quick to leave that moment, and Derek's eyes, and those pictures -
At first he leans against the wall, then thinks maybe he shouldn't in case it affects the angle, so he stands straight, then realizes that even if he leaned back he could change the angle with his head, right? His body twitches to lean back again, and then he stops itself. Wouldn't he look stupid going from leaning, to not leaning, to leaning again?
He stands frozen for a moment, staring at the ground in rising horror and embarrassment, before Derek's fingertips are suddenly under Stiles' chin and lifting his head. Derek's fingers are gone almost as soon as they appeared, but now Stiles is again staring at Derek, back to his green eyes. Stiles decides, officially, that Derek has no qualms in staring at Stiles, or in Stiles staring back.
Derek lifts the camera, takes a tiny step to the left and shifts the camera upwards, then snaps a photo. It startles Stiles since he was so focused on Derek that he didn't realize the other would take the picture so soon. He immediately feels anxious about how he looks in the photo. He doesn't want to have to stare at his stupid face compared to all the others.
"Turn," Derek says, and Stiles doesn't mention his worries for the taken photo, unsure if he'd be able to explain coherently. He turns his head to the right since it worked for Derek's picture in terms of the light coming from the window. His eyes stare straight ahead. He hopes his nerves don't show through.
"Lower your head a bit," Derek directs, and Stiles does, his eyes now looking upward because of the change of angle. The camera clicks.
Stiles immediately relaxes and steps up to Derek to look at the pictures. Derek obliges and they look together. Stiles can tell that the lighting does well for their intent, but it's too odd for Stiles to be looking at his own face. He can only feel awkward about it. Stiles just shrugs.
Derek says seriously, "Perfect."
Stiles' eyes speed to Derek but Derek still looks at the photo for a moment. Then he shuts the camera off and finally looks at Stiles. "I'll get them developed tomorrow and bring them by after."
"Okay," Stiles says, but what he really wants to say is, perfect? Me? You said that?
Derek turns away to place the camera on the bed. He then stretches his arms upward until something cracks and sighs loudly. "I had a good nap. Thanks for letting me come by."
He's thanking me, Stiles thinks, and the amount of actions Derek has surprised him with brings Stiles so out of depth that he watches Derek put on his shoes without comment.
Derek grabs his jacket and the camera and takes the first couple of steps to the window while he asking, "What are you practicing today?"
"Roses," Stiles murmurs, then realizes Derek is leaving. He adds, "Derek, wait."
Derek does. He stands in front of the window and waits patiently while Stiles tries to wrap his mind around what he wants to say.
It takes long enough that Derek's brows furrow just the tiniest bit and Stiles' nerves spike. He doesn't want Derek to leave without him at least trying to say something. "I just," Stiles starts. Then he pauses. He truly does not know how to continue without sounding like a fool.
"Was this...okay?" Derek asks quietly, entire body tensing.
Stiles rushes to reassure. "Yes, yes, absolutely yes," and Derek settles down considerably. Stiles continues, "I just want to say that - anytime. Anytime you want to come by again and nap or sleep, you can, you know, still do it. It doesn't have to be a one time thing."
Derek's eyes crinkle in the corners, despite how small his smile is. "Thanks."
"Yea," Stiles responds, throat thick. He swallows it down and - is there a way to ask? Is there a way to describe to Derek what he did for Stiles today?
"Are you feeling okay?" Derek asks, a bit worried now.
"What you did is incredibly sweet," Stiles bursts accidentally. Fuck. "It's - it's so sweet. Derek, you did something so wonderful for me, and I gotta be honest, right now I'm still kind of surprised that something I really wanted is now sitting on my desk, and I'm just, I feel-" like it's so sweet that the sweetness bled into me, like now my insides are jelly beans and my heart is a starburst, like I'm a pinata and you just burst me open.
Stiles takes a deep breathe to try to calm the almost tirade. "I'm so excited. I'm so - thank you. Thank you so fucking much, Derek, I just." he sighs. "It's so great. Thank you."
Derek looks back at him, a bit dumbfounded, then flushes the most attractive pink that Stiles has ever seen.
"Oh wow," Stiles blurts. Derek ducks his head and misses Stiles' own blush from blurt. They stand together, both red and embarrassed, until Derek shuffles enough towards the window that Stiles bites his cheek against a smile.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Stiles says to break the silence. He doesn't want Derek to go back to wordless disappearing.
"Yea," Derek replies gruffly, then jumps out.
Stiles breathes in slowly and exhales even slower, staring at the window.
Damn.
Among the rampant thoughts that this whole afternoon has barreled at him, and the excitement of what he could possibly create now that he has these photos, he also wonders...could his pink colored pencil make that same pleasing shade?