A/N: First official date for our favorite boys. Enjoy! And thank you all for all the wonderful messages!

Chapters will be updated weekly. Special warnings would be at the bottom notes of the chapters when needed.

Summary: 'Derek glanced at Stiles, who's smile dissolved into a light frown. He moved his hands again, and Derek flicked his eyes back to Sheriff Stilinski, silently asking for help. The Sheriff took a few steps forwards. "Stiles is mute." He said.'

I own nothing.

Chapter 9

Love; it will not betray you,

Dismay or enslave you.

It will set you free,

Be more like the man you were made to be.

True to his word, Derek showed up outside of the Stilinskis' front door on Saturday morning, 8 AM sharp, wearing a thin, grayish-green long-sleeved henley he thought was looking pretty good and a pair of comfortable, loose jeans. His leather jacket forgotten in the backseat, Derek climbed out of the car and leaned against it's frame, patiently staring at the house's front door. As if on a cue, Stiles suddenly burst out of the door with a half-eaten toast in his mouth, pulling a dark gray sweater over a plain T-shirt and smiling as he saw Derek standing there, already waiting for him.

"Morning." Derek smirked as Stiles awkwardly slid into a stop beside him, flailing and grabbing at the toast with his left hand as the right quickly flashed in front of Derek's face.

Want some? He offered with a smile, steadying himself and chewing disgustingly. Derek winced.

"No, thank you. I think I'll pass." He said, eyeing the half-eaten toast with a slight nausea. "That's really gross, Stiles." He added, which only made Stiles' grin grow.

Where are we going? Stiles asked curiously, watching as Derek smirked slyly at the question and moved to the other side of the car, sliding in and waiting for Stiles to do the same. When they both were seated comfortably, Stiles tapped at Derek's shoulder briefly to get his attention, then repeated his question. Dude. Where are we going?

"It's a surprise," Derek said teasingly, making Stiles groan and bang his head back against the seat.

I hate surprises. He signed lazily, eyes closed and forehead creased in half-hearted annoyance.

Suddenly, soft fingers gently started caressing his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles of worry on his too-young skin. His eyes fluttered open and glanced aside, a soft and shy smile ghosting on his lips and he stopped himself from pulling away as Derek kept touching him gently. His touch sent shivers down Stiles' spine, making the hairs on his arms stand, and he forced the quiet, content moan that threatened to to spill out to stay in, embarrassed by his own reaction. Are we going or what? Was the jerky, nervous question.

"Yeah." Derek smiled and let his hand slide off, starting the car.

The drive there wasn't very long. The road took them just a little outside of Beacon Hills, through the main dirt road and into the woods where Derek stopped and parked the car in the shadow of a tall Oak tree. Stiles turned slightly in his seat, looking at Derek in question as the engine died.

"Come on," Derek said, pushing his door open with a sharp squeak and watching as Stiles suspiciously slid out as well.

I really hope you are not going to kill me and bury me in the woods.

"I don't know, maybe later." Derek chuckled at Stiles' semi-worried expression, placing a hand at the small of his back and leading him confidently through the woods.

It was a short walk, less than five minutes, and when Derek stopped and allowed his hand to slip off his back, Stiles noticed where they were.

They were standing in the treeline of a small clearing with patches of soft, yellowish-green grass. The place was surrounded by thick bushes of berries Stiles wasn't so sure weren't poisonous, and tall Oak and Pine trees that cast nice shadows over the clearing and filled the air with fresh, earthy scent. There was a thin creek running through the trees, spilling into a small, deep and clear pool right in the middle, full of tiny and colorful fish. Stiles watched with wide eyes as the soft rays of the morning sun danced over the surface, making the water glitter like thousands of diamonds.

This place is beautiful...! He turned and looked at a very pleased Derek with a huge, awed smile on his face.

"It's not everything," Derek said, calmly thrusting his hands into his jeans pockets and moving backwards towards the small pool, facing Stiles all the way. How he managed not to trip over stones or stray roots was beyond Stiles, who was as graceful as an elephant trying to dance ballet. The teen eagerly followed him, smiling brightly, and a surprised, strange noise escaped his lips when his eyes found the huge blanket Derek placed there for them, hidden in the shadows behind a couple of thick, tight trees. There was a basket there as well, and Stiles' eyes shot up to meet Derek's in gratitude.

"Is it okay?" Derek asked with a smug smirk, watching Stiles expression and gesturing at the blanket.

It's perfect.

"Good. That's the idea." He smiled, taking his shoes off and sitting down on the blanket, crossing his legs as Stiles hurried towards him and dropped and slid flat on his stomach next to him. Rolling over to his back, Stiles looked up at Derek with a huge, bright grin plastered on his face, reaching up a hand to touch his stubbled face.

Derek closed his eyes for a moment and let out a content sigh, then lowered himself onto his back and rolled a little to his side so he could look at the teen next to him. Stiles propped himself up on his elbow, his position now allowing him to awkwardly and slowly sign at Derek. Which was good, since the older man was still new to the whole signing thing and slow was a perfect pace for him.

Okay. What now? He asked. Derek shrugged.

"How does a first date start?"

With questions?

"Alright. You go first."

Stiles hesitated.

Okay. He finger-spelled. Tell me about yourself? How old are you exactly?

"I don't think that one is a standard first date question."

I don't care. Answer it.

"Bossy." Derek snorted and Stiles smiled. "Okay, fine. I'm twenty-one, a college drop-out. I live with my father, his wife and your best friend-" He had to pause for a second because at that Stiles let out a huffed laugh and Derek really wanted to hear that one. "And now I gloriously work fulltime at a record shop for minimum wage." He finished with a smirk. "Your turn."

Well, I just turned eighteen, as you already know. Stiles signed slowly, and Derek was pleased to find he understood every word. He was getting better at this. I moved here with my parents four years ago. I love gaming and science - even though my chemistry teacher apparently hates me - and I play for my school Lacrosse team with Scott and Isaac.

"Do you have a job or anything?" Derek asked, rolling over to his side to get a better look at Stiles. He nodded.

I help out at the A-R-M-O-R T-I-R-E and Service Center twice a week, Stiles answered, adding a quick spelling for the words he guessed Derek didn't know. It's not much, but it's enough to pay for my Jeep.

"Oh... Say," Derek asked curiously and propped himself up to be in Stiles' eye-level. "When did you meet Scott?"

On my second day after moving into town, Stiles signed, letting out a breathy laugh that made a quick smile flash over Derek's lips. Right there on chemistry class, where Mr. Harris decided to make me an example-

"Wait, wait. I didn't catch that. A what?" Derek asked hurriedly, confused.

E-X-A-M-P-L-E. Stiles spelled for him slowly, then added the sign and Derek nodded to show he got it. And Scott just jumped to defend me.

"That's very like him." Derek chuckled. Stiles snorted.

Yeah. A lot of good it did. He smirked and sat up in a more comfortable position for signing. He ended up in detention with me, and the next day my mom convinced me to invite him for dinner. We stayed pretty tight ever since.

Derek frowned. "Speaking of which... I wanted to ask you, where exactly is your mom? I haven't seen her at your house the other day."

The smile slid off Stiles' round face like water on glass as his eyes darkened instantly, and he drew his legs close, crossing them and hunching over. Derek shot up immediately with his heart pounding way too fast, and watched Stiles' reaction with concern, worried he might have said the wrong thing.

"You know what, it doesn't matter. I didn't mean-"

She died. Stiles signed slowly without looking up, cutting Derek's ramble off.

Okay. He definitely said the wrong thing.

Stiles' movements became heavy and slow and sad, as if all of his usual energy left his body. Derek stared at him silently, lips parted in an attempt to say something. Anything. But he couldn't find the right words.

"I'm sorry." Was the lame comfort he tried to offer. Stiles still didn't look at him.

It's okay. It was bound to come up eventually. Stiles replied sadly. Derek hated seeing him hurt like that, but he didn't dare to say anything. Instead, he just shuffled closer, watching Stiles' hands intently. He couldn't miss any of what he was about to say. I was sixteen. Stiles started. My mom was the one who taught me how to drive, since dad was too busy with his new job as... S-H-E-R-I-F-F. Stiles still remembered to spell that too for Derek. A pained look crossed his face and he looked up at Derek, whiskey eyes glassy with unshed tears. Derek's heart clenched tight in his chest at the sight, hands itching to touch him and offer some comfort. It was my fault. He signed slowly, his movements almost agonized as he twisted his hand over his shoulder. I didn't see the car coming, and we had an accident. Mom... mom died on the spot. I got away with two-months coma and brain damage that caused my A-P-R-A-X-I-A.

Derek stared at him with a heavy heart, moving to wrap a comforting arm around Stiles' waist and pull him close, tight. He wasn't sure he understood everything Stiles said, but he got the general idea and that was enough. He wasn't ever going to make him repeat that. Derek sighed behind Stiles' ear, pulling him closer and placing a gentle kiss on the back of his head.

"I lost my mom when I was fifteen." Derek mumbled quietly, his breath ghosting over Stiles' ear. He felt Stiles stiffening, and his soft hand moved to caress Derek's thigh gently, offering some comfort of his own.

"She was the only parent I knew, since my parents split when I was too young to remember. My father - Scott's father - wasn't much of a dad to me. A card at my birthdays, a visit or two during the year, that's all. He married Melissa and when Scott was born, he didn't have time for me by then." His voice was monotonous, emotionless, as if he was reading from a book about a life that wasn't his. Stiles shifted in Derek's hold, leaning against him and bringing his hand to his lips to softly kiss his palm. Derek shivered, sucking in a breath.

"And then she died." He whispered into Stiles' hair. "My mom. She was a psychologist, and one day, one of her patients just... lost it, and attacked her. After that I moved in with my father and his family, and Scott became the next best thing in my life. That is, until I left for college."

The final tone in his voice told Stiles he wasn't going to say anything more, and so he pulled away from Derek a little so he could look at him. His whiskey eyes were still clouded with moist, and Derek was pretty sure his own were too. He felt extremely vulnerable, exposed. He didn't plan to open up like this, and honestly,he never had before. But when he saw Stiles sitting there on the verge of tears, he had to say something. Which turned to be his most secret emotions... ones he'd barely ever admitted to himself.

But the look Stiles was giving him now wasn't one of pity. It was an understanding look of someone who knew exactly what it's like to lose a parent, knew the pain and the defensiveness one develops after something like that. It was comforting.

And then Stiles was suddenly very close, and he leaned over Derek, with one arm supporting his weight, his other hand coming up to rest on the back of Derek's head and pull him closer. Their lips met halfway, the kiss sweet and soft and gentle. Stiles' hand moved to cup Derek's face, and Derek sighed in response and closed his eyes, leaning farther into the kiss like a starved man. He was steadily inhaling in Stiles' scent, listening to his heavy breathing as they moved even closer until their chests were lined together, flush against each other.

A thumb brushing over his cheek made him open his eyes just in time to see Stiles pull away, cheeks flushed and eyes still staring straight into Derek's green eyes. Stiles sat back on his heels, hands brushing over Derek's arms and knees as they slid off of him.

Let's do something. He signed shakily, still slightly panting. Anything.

Derek smiled weakly back. "A little more of this could be a good idea." He said breathlessly, gesturing between them. Stiles shook his head.

Something else. I don't want to think about anything anymore, I just want to have fun with you.

Derek nodded. He felt more than a little bit disappointed when he said, "Okay." Glancing around, his gaze fell on the small pool, and an idea popped into his mind. "How about a swim?" He suggested.

At that, a small smile bloomed on Stiles' lips and he nodded eagerly, quickly shedding his sweater and pulling his T-shirt off, revealing a nicely shaped, square chest that made Derek stare shamelessly with his wolfish grin back on his face.

Hurriedly following, Derek swiftly pulled his own shirt off and got out of his jeans with quick, elegant movements while Stiles tried to wriggle out of his without so much as a hint of grace. Once they were both in boxers only, they sat there on their knees, looking at each other with obvious appreciation. Stiles was built well for his age, scrawniness gone and making room for broad, square shoulders and a hard chest. Derek, on other hand, was purely made of muscles. Hard, toned, strong muscles that made Stiles both embarrassed and wanting to run his fingers across them, map them and kiss them.

Derek was the first to stand up, and he straightened his back and offered Stiles a hand with a widening smile, glad to see that Stiles accepted the help and pulled himself up to stand beside Derek. They started walking calmly towards the water, their slow pace gradually picking up until Stiles suddenly let out an excited shout, and a second later they were practically racing each other, crashing into the water with rolling laughter.

Derek was in bliss. He could hear Stiles' yelps of surprise when he splashed water at him, heard him laughing loudly and freely every time he slipped over wet rocks and flailed stupidly back into the clear water, and Derek could swear those were the sweetest noises he's ever heard. He laughed along, feeling better than he'd all those years since he moved into Beacon Hills.

It was scary, really. The way this goofy, mute, hyperactive young man made him feel. Derek was falling for him faster than he thought, and frankly it scared the shit out of him. But he also knew, that right now, he wouldn't be able to stay away even if he wanted to.

And he didn't.

So they spent the whole morning, noon and afternoon in the pool in the middle of the woods, until their skin wrinkled and their muscles hurt, coming out only when Stiles started to complain he was absolutely starving. As he found out, the basket Derek brought was full of delicious breakfast that they swallowed in five minutes, even though it was already cold.

By the time they'd finished, the sun was already starting to set, casting a warm, orange light over the trees. They sat there in content silence, Derek's bare back against the trunk of an old Pine tree and his arms resting over and around Stiles' drying chest as the younger man lay between his legs, his head resting back under Derek's chin. They didn't talk, but Stiles could hear Derek faintly humming in his ear, an old song Stiles recognized from one of his father's old records. It felt so good to be sitting there together, that Stiles suddenly realized he didn't want this day to end.

He wasn't sure how or when it happened, but somewhere along the way, between the moment their eyes met at the spring party and this exact moment, Stiles found out he actually fell for Derek Hale.

There is a design, an alignment to cry,

Of my heart to see.

The beauty of love as it was meant to be.

A/N: Song used: "Sigh No More" / Mumford Sons.

Warnings: Mention of Apraxia of Speech and past canonical character death.

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