Over Wednesday and Thursday all the furniture they had bought – which Derek tried to pay for, though Stiles wouldn't let him – arrived at the North Entrance of the building. The deliverymen marvelled at Derek's strength as he carried up bookshelves and drawers all on his own, while it took at least three of them. By Friday Stiles had; a brown leather sofa which almost matched his favourite chair, though it was in much better condition; a dark wooden TV stand with a few drawers and shelves for DVD players and the like; two floor to ceiling bookcases which were mainly filled with DVD's and all the crap knick knacks that had accumulated around the apartment; two of the Chinese-style stools for the breakfast bar; another, taller set of drawers for all the excess clothes Derek had brought from his hotel; and the glass coffee table Derek had been admiring, with a shelf underneath which had somehow filled up with car, motorcycle, and fitness magazines Derek had bought to read while Stiles was at school. Stiles thought the place was coming together nicely, with other pieces that just build up in apartment arriving as his guests did; Emily brought the fairy lights that were laced through the staircase at her parents party when she came to pick up Grayson's tux, they were now twined around the French doors to the bedroom; Max gave him an odd ashtray even though neither of them smoked, as well as bringing posters and pictures that he found interesting for Stiles to have, some of them were pretty abstract and Derek found them plain ugly, but the two were becoming friends and Stiles didn't have the heart to take them down; and the couple across the hall in 6D – when they noticed everything being moved in – decided it was a good opportunity to get rid of the ugly plastic plant the boys mother had given him for Christmas, Stiles hated it too, but he shoved in the corner anyway.
The two of them spent Saturday morning buying a good amount of cutlery, plates, and other kitchen essentials, including a coffee maker. Roaming around the huge store they had wandered into in Midtown, Stiles had thought how nice just doing ordinary things like this was. He was happier than ever that he had left Beacon Hills – maybe if they were there a relationship would never have blossomed between the two, they could have just kept on avoiding the obvious attraction between them, or maybe it would have happened anyway, but have been surrounded by wolf problems; Scott getting his inconsiderate ass into their relationship; Erica and the rest of the pack ruining things for them; his father not approving of Derek. This was so much better. A cab took the two boys and their bags loaded with essentials back downtown to the West Village, where they stopped off a few blocks earlier to visit Stiles' favourite convenience store.
"This stuffs crap." Derek thought out loud as his fingers scanned the row of herbs and spices, falling far from his expectations.
"Huh?" Stiles just shrugged, pulling two bottles of coke down from the shelf while scanning the spirits behind the counter.
"We need to eat. No vodka. Yes food." Derek joked, grabbing a jar of sauce and a tube of spaghetti.
"Oh, can't we have these ones?" Stiles' eyes widened as he pulled down the Superhero spaghetti shapes. "Those ones are so boring..." He looked longingly at the shapes through the clear window on the bag.
"I'm not eating them." Stiles put them into the cart anyway, hiding them under a tub of ice cream he had picked up, making sure Derek hadn't seen and wiping his brow in mock relief when he saw his back to Stiles, grabbing ingredients for salad. "What do I get for my first master cooked meal?" He asked with a grin, glad that Derek was finally cooking for him. He had promised it last week, but they had never gotten around to it, ordering takeaway every night over the last five days, though Derek insisted they get different things, he even splurged on Nobu one night. Stiles would have been happy with pizza or toast.
"We should go get some real bread." Derek picked up the thinly sliced white bread in its plastic bag with a look of disgust, throwing it back onto the shelf.
"You're a food snob, you know." Stiles told him through a mouth full of Maltesers, which he had already finished, putting the empty wrapper in the cart to pay for.
"And you're a slob." The corners of Derek's mouth raised into one of his half smiles as he watched Stiles, leaning against the cart, stuffing his face, a little chocolate smeared on his lips. Leaning over, he gently kissed the section with chocolate on it, tasting the indescribable mix of chocolate and Stiles, the best thing he had ever tasted.
"Seriously though?" Stiles asked again a few minutes later as they trudged out of the store into the humid evening air of the city.
"I dunno yet." Derek replied as he scanned the street, looking for any store that actually looked like it sold distant food, spotting one after a few minutes on the other side of the street.
"Well you bought enough food to feed an army so I suppose we have some choice." Stiles held up the five bags he was struggling to carry in explanation, screwing up his eyes in frustration as he put them down for a second and heard the clink of a glass bottle, hoping the vodka hadn't smashed.
"I eat a lot." Derek looked over at Stiles, wondering if he should take some bags. He already had all the kitchen stuff they had bought earlier, the coffee maker wedged under his arm, as well as the heaviest bags of shopping.
"Don't even think about taking these, wolf man. I'm strong too." Taking a huge gulp of air Stiles picked up his bags again and practically ran across the street, all the way down to the store Derek had pointed out, sighing in relief when he got there and could drop his bags outside for a second, waiting for Derek.
"Weak ass." Derek muttered with a smirk as he walked past Stiles' panting frame, pushing open the door of the store with his ass, giving Stiles an exaggerated mocking bottom lip before he disappeared inside. Laughing to himself, Stiles decided to not bother going inside, instead massaging his aching arms as he sat on the step of the closed down store next door, waiting for Derek.
"Race ya'." Stiles shouted as he saw Derek emerging, setting off down the street with his bags before Derek had even worked his way out of the door, the bags in his left hand having been caught when he pulled it open. Stiles was panting by the time he got to the crossing, his arms spread wide and back hunched a little - it was the only half decent stance for carrying such heavy groceries while running, even if it did make him look like some sort of deformed bat creature.
"You knew I'd win." Derek threw him a cocky smile as he jogged by at a moderate pace, his breath even. By the time Stiles reached the building Derek was stood on the step, having already deposited his bags in the apartment, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Jesus." Stiles panted, "I need a freaking inhaler or something." He managed to spit out between breaths, taking in huge gulps of air. "Never will I try," another huge gulp of air was needed, "to race with you," another gulp, "again."
Derek let out a bark of laugher, "Come on." Taking the bags from Stiles' hands, who attempted to push him away to try and prove he was at least strong enough to get upstairs, but soon gave up as Derek pried them from his fingers, Derek held open the door as Stiles practically crawled back to the apartment, throwing himself down on the couch.
"I'll see you in hell. I'm too weak to go on." A hand was thrown across his face, the other trailing on the floor in mock dramatics. "Please doctor, don't tell my wife!"
"What are you talking about?" Derek asked with a grin, grabbing the remote and turning the news on as he started unpacking the groceries, scowling when he saw some of the unhealthy and sometimes just childish crap Stiles had snuck into the cart.
"Why have you bought this crap..." Derek said slowly, turning over a pack of candy cigarettes, the box whacking off the top of Stiles' head as he threw them across the room.
"Oh, you've cured me!" Stiles rose from the sofa, a grin on his face. "My magic cigarettes!" He held the pack up to the overhead light as if it was the Holy Grail, pulling one out and sticking it between his fingers, taking long drags of nothing. Noticing Derek's aviators on the coffee table he slipped them on, resting his chin on the back of the sofa as he leaned over to look at Derek.
"I'm Derek." An imaginary stream of smoke left his lips. "I drive a motorcycle and want to rip peoples – well, a very handsome boy named Stiles Stillinksi's – throat out." Dramatic pause. "With my teeth." Attempting fake smoke rings but managing to look more like a fish, he began laughing to himself, rolling back onto the front of the sofa and chewing the stick.
"I don't even smoke." Derek shook his head and laughed, he couldn't help but like Stiles all the more when he goofed off like this – which he did often – it was just so different from how he had lived his own life over the past few years, on his quest for vengeance for his family.
"Are you gonna help?" He asked, trying out is best wolf scowl on Stiles, who almost took him seriously.
"Nah, you're the housewife, remember?" Stiles gave him a quick smile before settling back onto the sofa, hands behind his head, glancing at Derek every now and then with as cocky a smirk on his face as Derek had when he ran past him outside.
Stiles and Derek had been in a comfortable silence for over an hour, the only sounds being Derek's own comments to himself as he attempted to remember the recipe his sister taught him for really great spaghetti, and the sounds of the Criminal Minds from the 45" TV, Stiles sat cross-legged on the floor before it, chewing slowly on another candy cigarette.
"No, Cheryl! Don't go!" He shouted, chewing on the stick faster as the character headed to drop off ransom money. "Hey Derek, I've got all this figured out!" Stiles looked very pleased with himself a he shouted over his shoulder. "You see, this creep took her sister but he wants this one too, or maybe he doesn't even want the other one, but they ain't getting the sister back if she goes, OH! Yeah!" Jumping up with a yelp of pride, Stiles danced across the room.
"You were right?" The look of horror that crossed Stiles' face shocked Derek for a second,
"Was I right?! Of course I was right. I'm always right with this stuff."
"Looks kind of the same as Bones." Derek glanced up at the screen and shrugged. He had been watching part of the episode as he chopped up the herbs he had bought from the better store Stiles had raced him too, finally remembering the special mixture Laura had taught him.
"I guess." Stiles stuck a finger into the sauce that Derek had taken off the pan a few minutes ago. "Pretty good! Ow!" He shouted as Derek's hand collided lightly with the side of his head, a little sauce dripping out of his mouth from the attack.
"You haven't even washed your hands." Derek admonished, giving him another playful slap as he went back for more.
"I know my rights you know, son of a cop here! I could have you arrested for assault."
"You'd miss me too much." Derek said before he could stop himself, feeling a little embarrassed. What on earth happens to me around this guy?
"Oh damn, Gideon is good." He had turned the stool he was now sat on, at the island, around slightly so he could watch TV, absently picking at everything Derek placed on the island; the pasta; the salad; the bread; the sauce.
"Get off!" Derek shouted, slapping Stiles' hand away from the salad for the third time.
"Why, we're having it now anyway!"
"You have salad last, idiot." Derek raised his eyebrows, wondering why everyone he knew seemed to have their salad before dinner.
"Uh – are you high? Salad is a starter."
"This is the Italian way."
"Yeah cos' you know so much about Italy." Stiles grinned, wondering absently if Derek had some Sicilian roots or something. The white skin didn't really suggest so.
"I spent some time there." Stiles eyes widened in amusement.
"You wore jeans and a leather jacket to the beach?" He asked as he grabbed some knives, forks, and spoons from the drawer next to the fridge.
"Shut up and eat." The two of them looked at each other for a second, laughing before moving in for a quick kiss. Derek thought silently as he ate, only half listening to Stiles' ramblings about how good the food was, his head spinning round every now and then to watch Criminal Minds, arms occasionally flying into the air when he guessed something right. It was all so... normal, and, surprisingly, Derek liked it. Sure, sometimes he wanted to shift and go running in the woods, but there was always Central Park.
"You could be a chef or something, you know? Oh yeah whatever-your-name-is bad ass cop woman, get him!"
"Well it doesn't mean much from you," Derek nudged him slightly with his elbow, "all you eat is toast."
"Yeah, shouldn't underestimate you!" Stiles shouted at the screen, pushing his clear plate away. "I happen to be an amazing judge of food and have had take out many, many times. I just can't be bothered learning to cook."
"Well I hope you like something new. Never had salad after spaghetti..." Derek grumbled, shaking his head again as he took salad from the large, wooden bowl and piled it onto their plates.
"It's actually a nice mix, I dunno, it makes my stomach feel more relaxed or something." Stiles gave him a huge smile, knowing their was salad stuck in his teeth, causing Derek to splutter out a piece of lettuce through his laughter.
"What's up with you tonight?" Derek laughed, pushing Stiles a little, he wouldn't stop with the salad smile.
"Nothing." Closing his mouth and licking his teeth clean, they both went back to work on their meal. Another episode of Criminal Minds followed, Stiles never liked watching only one episode, if he started something he just wanted to watch it all day every day until he couldn't possibly watch any more.
"Are you awake?" Derek asked Stiles lightly, who was nestled with his head on Derek's shoulder, an arm thrown casually across the wolfs midriff.
"Mm. Sh, I wanna see them catch this guy, scary as hell." Stiles eyes were heavy, his stomach full, his body relaxed now it was back in Derek's grasp.
"I don't get it..." Derek whispered as they watched a ghostly black figure approaching a families house as they put their children to sleep.
"If we ever have kids we're locking the house up with the best stuff ever, we'll have seventeen dogs, and you'll patrol the perimeter in wolf form as I sleep, coming back just before noon so I get to wake up in your arms." Stiles' wasn't really aware of what he was saying, more just thinking out loud, but he stopped when he felt Derek tensing next to him. "Shit – I mean, you know, theoretically!" He looked up at Derek, eyes now wide, hoping he wasn't going to freak out or something.
"Just -" Derek took a deep breath before his body relaxed. The reaction made him uneasy, he wasn't even sure why, he knew what Stiles was like with talking out loud, knew he wasn't serious.
"Shh." Stiles patted his head mockingly, before leaning in and kissing him long and deep, their bodies pressing closer together, one of Derek's legs draped over Stiles', slowly working its way up till his thigh was by Stiles' ass, both of them now laid on their sides on the sofa.
"Don't you want to finish this episode?" Derek asked between kisses, Stiles' face clasped between his hands, fingers running over the short hair, hands rubbing against the strong bones in his face beneath the smooth, clear skin. A massive grin split Stiles' face at his question.
"Nope. I'd rather have you." They continued kissing, Stiles' fingers lifting Derek's shirt off, as Derek undid Stiles' fly, "You know when you asked me what was up?" He just managed to get the question in before Derek's lips were on him again.
"Mm?" Derek pushed Stiles back, sitting astride him, now shirtless, his hands pulling Stiles' shirt off too.
"Well, just this." The last word came out in a gasp as Derek freed Stiles arousal, his own jeans sliding to the floor a few seconds later. "Just you, being here, cooking, I dunno." Stiles flipped Derek over, grinning at the older mans shock and pleasure as Stiles took the lead, "Just us, being together. That's what's up. What made me so happy." A grin spread across Derek's face at Stiles' revelation, never remembering himself feeling so happy, and not because of what Stiles' mouth was doing...
Though lets be honest, that was part of it
