Contrary to popular belief, Derek Hale is not actually allergic to doing fun things. Just because he broods a lot and has an almost permanent frown on his face doesn't mean that he's a "sourwolf", as Stiles likes to call say. It just means that he doesn't like people, which drastically limits his ability to do fun things. People are scary, alright? Even to an Alpha Werewolf like Derek. And it's because of Derek's supernatural aversion to social interaction that the Pack was surprised (pleasantly surprised, but surprised nonetheless) that Derek wanted to go to the beach. Stiles, of course, was immediately on board. What can he say? He'll take any chance he can get to see Derek with his shirt off, and he has just been presented with a once in a lifetime opportunity to see Derek Hale, soaking wet, covered in sand, and- Yeah, okay, let's stop that train of thought before it derails and sends Stiles spiraling into an existential crisis about how absolutely out of his league he thinks his boyfriend is.
The point is, they're at the beach. It's midday and Derek is on the shore watching his pack play in the waves with a smile on his face. He takes a few seconds to look down at his phone, checking for any texts about the next oncoming disaster in Beacon Hills. Which definitely doesn't mean that Derek has a problem. It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you, after all. He looks back up at the ocean just in time to see Scott judo-flip Stiles into the waist-deep water, no doubt because the brunette has said something unseemly or sarcastic (perhaps both, knowing Stiles.) Derek laughs outright when he sees Stiles pop out of the water, spluttering and hacking up sea water with his dark hair plastered to his forehead.
'He is so ridiculous.' Derek thinks lovingly as he reaches a hand into the pocket of his swim shorts, palming the small wooden box concealed within as he looks down at the striped beach towel he's sitting on.
"Derek!" The wolf looks up in shock, pulling his hand sharply from his pocket in alarm. Stiles is standing in front of him, drenched from head to toe. He had managed to sneak up on Derek, an impressive feat, especially for someone as clumsy as Stiles. However, Derek suspects that the only reason Stiles was able to is due to Derek being lost in thought. "Did you see what Scott did?! He threw me, Der! Into the Ocean!" Derek doesn't say anything and Stiles continues ranting, undeterred by Derek's silence. "I could have died! Or worse, expelled!"
Now Derek decides to huff out a laugh and intervene before Stiles takes off down a Harry Potter rabbit hole he can never climb out of. "Oh, you're fine. Walk it off, Stilinski."
Stiles gasps incredulously, slapping a hand to his heart. "My father will hear about this!" Stiles exclaims in a sub-par British accent, sticking up his nose aristocratically, doing a fairly decent job of imitating Draco Malfoy. Well, other than the hair… Nobody can replicate the hair. It is legendary and will forever be memorialized as the eighth wonder of the world.
Derek, seeing that his plan to shut down the Harry Potter spin on the conversation, decides to play along and humour his human. "Eat slugs, Malfoy."
Stiles gasps again, this time in shock, his mouth gaping and eyes wide. "Did you just make a Harry Potter reference? You? The Derek Hale?! Queen of 'I couldn't be bothered with such trivial things?!'"
"I did; And I'm not a girl, Stiles."
"How would you know?" Stiles says hastily, crossing his arms and leaning down to get in Derek's face.
"Do I really have to answer that question?"
Stiles groans and Derek rolls his eyes as Stiles flops down gracelessly next to him on the towel, causing sand and water to fly everywhere. "So, what are you doing up here, anyway? We're at the beach, Sourwolf, get in the water."
Derek thinks for a moment, his mind wandering to the box currently burning a hole in his pocket. "Yeah, okay." Derek agrees, standing up and holding a hand out to Stiles to help him up. Stiles takes the proffered hand and heaves himself onto his feet, stumbling slightly into Derek's chest. Derek's arms come up to snake around Stiles' waist on instinct, pulling him in closer. Stiles laughs breathlessly, looking up through his lashes at Derek. His whiskey coloured eyes captivate Derek and he leans down to peck Stiles on the nose before releasing his hold, taking Stiles' hand, and leading him down the beach and into the water, away from the rest of the pack. They walk out until they are waist-deep in the ocean and when they stop Derek puts his arm around Stiles' shoulders, the other easily giving into the touch and leaning on the werewolf.
They just stand there for a few minutes, feeling the waves splash against them and watching the birds flying overhead. Suddenly, Stiles breaks the silence.
"Derek, seagulls are just overgrown sky rats." Stiles comments, like it's a completely normal thing to randomly blurt out. And I guess it is, for Stiles, at least.
Derek groans, releasing Stiles' shoulders and turning to look him in the eye, noticing his boyfriend's serious expression. "And there goes my last brain cell. I hope you're happy." Derek replies, his tone flat and dead.
"Damn, I didn't know you had any of those left? Where'd you get it? I've been looking for one, but they're all sold out on Ebay."
Derek just stares at Stiles, taking in the humour dancing in his eyes and the slight upturn of his lips. Derek can't help but notice how beautiful he is like this, sunkissed with droplets of water hanging from his hair and lashes.
"Marry me." Derek lets the two words slip out before he even registers them. Once he realizes what he's said, his eyes widen in shock, noticing Stiles' eyes do the same. "Shit- I mean- I… Fuck." Derek stammers, taking a step back and looking down at the water.
"Derek, what are you talking about?" Stiles whispers, his brow furrowing softly. Derek takes a deep breath and looks back up, getting lost in a whiskey coloured sea as their gazes meet. Derek reaches into his pocket and slowly takes out the little box, raising it above the water and opening his palm so Stiles can see what he's holding. Stiles gasps, stumbling back slightly before righting himself and zeroing in on the box. "Derek…" He breathes out, unsure of what to say, or even if he should say anything at all.
"Stiles…," Derek begins, taking two steps forward so they're standing almost chest to chest in the water with just enough space between them for Derek's hands, which are still holding the ring box. "I- I was going to do this properly, you know. I had a big speech planned, and I was going to be all sappy and romantic because I know you like that stuff." Derek hears Stiles huff out a laugh and he gives a small smile before continuing. "But, I realize that you don't need all of that because that's not who we are. Our relationship is strange, and reckless, and more than a little bit crazy, but that is who we are. We're not one of those couples that has to constantly declare their love for one another because we already know. We've always known, and we always will. Stiles, I love you. You are the person that made me realize that I still deserve to be loved, that I deserve a family, a pack. Without you, I wouldn't be where I am today, and I am eternally grateful that I get to be with you." Derek pauses and opens the box, revealing the obsidian band nestled within. It has silver, running wolves engraved around the outside of the band, with small rubies where their eyes should be. A tear runs down Stiles' face as the weight of what's happening finally sinks in. "I can't live without you, Stiles. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you'll let me. Stiles Stilinski, will you marry me?" Derek finishes, meeting Stiles' eyes for the first time since he started speaking, seeing the myriad of emotions flitting through Stiles' gaze. He waits, the anticipation crushing him as each second of silence crashes into the couple like the waves crashing into their legs.
"Yes." Stiles whispers finally as he breaks out into a grin, reaching out his hand, palm down, so Derek can place the ring on his finger. Derek, afraid to break the moment, carefully takes the ring out of the box, slowly taking Stiles' hand in his and slipping it gently onto Stiles' ring finger.
"FINALLY!"
A shout suddenly cuts through their daze, startling the couple as they whip their heads in the direction the sound came from. Derek pulls Stiles to his chest protectively, his eyes flashing, but he soon realizes that the exclamation actually came from one of his packmates, who had come over to them at some point to watch the scene unfold.
Every single one of them is positively beaming, the girls practically swooning while they stare happily at the now engaged couple. Lydia comes up next to Stiles and kisses him softly on the cheek, quietly whispering, "I'm so happy for you.," before walking over to the pack and ushering them back toward the shore to give Stiles and Derek some privacy.
"Well, I guess there won't be a dramatic reveal." Stiles chuckles softly, looking up at Derek through his lashes. "It was perfect, you know. You were right. We don't need all of that gushy romantic stuff. I know you love me, and I love you too. That's all that matters."
Derek brings their foreheads together softly as they stand there, waist-deep in the ocean, getting lost in each other's eyes. The waves are lapping at their waists, and the seagulls (sorry, overgrown sky rats) are still flying overhead.
The moment could have been more romantic, sure, but the slight imperfections are what makes it perfect. Because that's just who they are.
They're imperfect, but so is love. And as long as they remember that, everything else will work itself out.