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Stiles waited until well after his dad had gone to bed before sneaking out. Carefully easing his window open, he trudged outside, a pillow clutched under his arm and his backpack hanging off of one shoulder. He paused and looked behind, debating whether or not to leave his window open. Eventually he shrugged and slithered down to his butt, sliding down his roof slowly. When he reached the edge, he clenched his eyes shut and with a quick prayer to god, jumped down.
Instead of his ass meeting the grass below, he was enveloped in warm, strong hands. “Did you really think I would let you fall?”
Stiles sighed, opening his eyes and flashing a wide smile at Derek. “Of course not Sourwolf, you know I’ve a flair for the dramatic.”
Derek snorted, “Don’t I know it.” His lips curled into a genuine smile at the giggle that escaped Stiles. He nuzzled his nose against Stiles’ temple, pressing his lips on the spot before pulling away.
“What did you wanna show me?” Stiles asked as Derek carried him princess style to his Camaro parked a few houses down.
Derek opened the passenger side of his car while holding Stiles with one arm before gently lowering him down into the seat. Buckling him in he answered, “A special place.”
“Yeah, I got that from context dude. I meant where?” Stiles sassed, ignoring the red blooming on his face.
“Don’t call me dude,” Derek whispered, leaning in until their noses where almost touching.
Blush deepening, Stiles asked, “And how are you going to stop me?”
“Call me dude again and you’ll find out,” Derek replied, smirking, his wolf howling at the heady scent coming off Stiles.
Stiles leaned in closer, lips grazing Derek’s, and challenged, “Dude.”
Derek wasted not a breath before leaning in and smashing his lips against Stiles’. His hand crawled up Stiles’ side and to the back of his head, curling into the short strands of his chocolate brown hair. He pulled slightly, positioning Stiles’ head exactly as he wanted. Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth, his fingers clutching the bottom of Derek’s henley. Derek nipped his pouty lower lip, making Stiles gasp. He took that opportunity to tangle his tongue with Stiles’, kissing him thoroughly.
He pulled back after a few seconds and smirked, “Did that work?”
“Uhh,” Stiles stuttered, and Derek leaned in to press a small peck to his glistening lips.
“Thought so.” With one last kiss to Stiles’ cheek, he shut the passenger door and jumped into the driver’s seat, taking off. After a few minutes of silence, he asked, “Do you want the heater on?”
Stiles hummed distractedly, biting his lips with his eyes still glazed over.
Derek giggled, bringing Stiles back down and making him blush fiercer than ever. “Shut up,” he mumbled, slapping away Derek’s approaching hand.
“Come on, don’t be like that,” Derek cajoled, grinning when Stiles intertwined their hands together. He brought up their hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of Stiles’. “I love you, baby.”
“Love you too,” Stiles replied, tightening his hold on Derek’s hand.
“Are we almost there?” Stiles complained for what felt like the hundredth time, stomping after Derek. He had driven them into the preserve up to the old Hale house from where they had been walking for about fifteen minutes.
Derek turned around and grabbed Stiles, throwing him over his shoulder.
“Ahhh, much better,” Stiles sighed happily, his hands immediately going to Derek’s ass.
“Knock it off,” Derek grumbled, spanking Stiles’ ass lightly. “It’s just a few minutes away now.”
“You’ve been saying that for the past hour,” Stiles groaned.
Derek huffed, “We haven’t even been out here for 20 minutes baby.”
“Don’t believe you.”
A few minutes of silent walking later, Derek set Stiles back down and turned him around. Stiles gasped, taking in the view before him. A huge lake spread out in front of them, moonlight glistening off the clear water. Several yellow flowers, that Stiles did not know the name of, lined the edges. Surrounded by trees on all sides and lined by tall bushes, it was like a little sanctuary. Derek led a mesmerized Stiles closer to the water, towards a small clearing in the boundary of the lake.
He grabbed a sheet from Stiles’ backpack and spread it out on the ground. Sitting down, he pulled Stiles down in front of him, settling him between his legs. Stiles leaned his back against Derek’s chest and smiled as Derek wrapped the blanket around both of them.
“I used to come here when I was younger,” Derek whispered, “Every weekend, mom would pack this huge wicker basket with tons of food. We had this little cart that dad would load up with tents, blankets, pillows and sleeping bags. We would all trek from the house down here, even Uncle Peter. Dad had a small boat and all the kids would take turns going on it to try and fish. Mom and Uncle Peter were in charge of cooking. They would grill meat on top of a small campfire. We would swim until all pruned up and Aunt Celia would pull us out of the water. It was heaven.”
Stiles sniffled, wiping the tears dripping down his face. “That sounds lovely Derek.”
“I know,” Derek smiled, reaching his hand up to Stiles’ face and wiping away the stray tears with his thumb. “I haven’t been here since the fire. Somehow, it still feels like they are here with me.”
Stiles turned around in Derek’s arms, straddling him and buried his face in his neck. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, cocooning them in the blanket. “Of course, baby. Someday we’ll bring our kids down here.” Derek grinned at the sudden burst of vanilla and cinnamon scent from Stiles, hugging him tighter.
Derek deposited Stiles back onto his roof, ushering him inside the room. Setting down the backpack on the chair, he strong armed a reluctant Stiles into the bed. Draping the blanket over him, Derek carefully tucked him in, kissing his forehead after. “Goodnight baby.”
“Mmm goodnight, Derbear. See you tomorrow?” Stiles mumbled sleepily.
“You bet,” Derek whispered, pressing a quick kiss to Stiles’ lips before going.
In the morning, Stiles stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen, the blanket still draped over his shoulder. “Coffee,” he grumbled, nodding at his dad when he passed him towards the jug. He nursed a warm cup in his hand, guzzling down the first before pouring a second.
“Son, the next time you want to hang out with your boyfriend, make sure its not in the middle of the night. And I would appreciate a prior warning,” the sheriff remarked casually.
Stiles choked on the sip of coffee, spewing it out all over the countertop. His dad chuckled as he walked out the room.