Work Text:
“In ten miles, take exit eighty-five.”
”Yeah, yeah,” Stiles swipes at his phone, panning out on the map. He spots what he’s looking for.
A rest stop, two miles ahead.
His big, bulky blue jeep takes the ramp easily, coasting off the highway towards a wide building surrounded by cars and campers. A few semi trucks sit off to the side.
Stiles drives past the little crowd of passenger vehicles and parks near the end of the lot. Cutting the engine, he pockets his phone and hops out, door bouncing off the hinge once before closing more solidly with a gentle hip check. He strolls past a set of parents strapping their kids into the back of an SUV in front of the rest stop.
The glass doors slide open and a whoosh of cold air hits Stiles’s face. He hadn’t realized how warm it had gotten in the jeep, even with the windows rolled down. The blast of AC fades as he gets a gander at the vending machines. An ice-cold Coke sounds really good right now.
He pushes through the restroom door and locates an empty urinal, lining up to take care of business. Others come and go from the stalls and urinals to the sinks and out the door. He’s just about done when —
“Turn left.”
The melodic voice of his navigation app rings out from his back pocket.
”Please don’t.” A low plea from the urinal next to him.
Stiles laughs, a bit nervously, then has to stop himself from actually turning to the left.
”Right, sorry, forgot to turn off my maps.”
He’s backing away, eyes down until he arrives at the sink. As he washes his hands, he glances up quickly in the mirror. Behind him, still facing the urinal, was a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, dark-haired man with sunglasses propped up on the top of his head. His tee shirt wasn’t sticking to his back like Stiles’s was.
So he had a nice body and a car with functioning AC? Some guys had all the luck.
Stiles finishes up and leaves, a bit too embarrassed to do anything but make a beeline straight for his jeep. He’d get a Coke somewhere else.
—————————————
Derek has two cold bottles of water and a bag of mixed nuts tucked under his bicep as he exits the rest stop. He tips his sunglasses back down onto his nose, sun bright enough to make him squint even with them on.
He’s headed down to his car when he spots a familiar pair of jeans and shoes sticking out from the hood of a bright blue jeep. The legs they housed were longer than he’d anticipated when he spotted them next to his feet in the men's bathroom. His car is parked three spots further, in the very last one. He had a thing about door dents.
”Ah, come on, not now…” the guy was saying.
Derek hesitates briefly. He wasn’t exactly in a hurry, but he was trying to get home to Beacon Hills tonight. There was a gathering happening tomorrow at his mother’s house and he wanted to be there for it.
On the other hand, the mechanic in him saw a problem and was itching to solve it. Just how old was that jeep? Had to be at least thirty years. A real classic, and they didn’t make cars like that anymore. That thing was a beast. And he could appreciate a monster.
”Need a jump?” He offers from a few feet away.
The guy’s head whips around, cheeks flushed from the heat.
“Oh my god, yes. Would you please?” He starts pointing towards the back of the jeep and ends up spinning in a circle. “I have cables, uh, somewhere. Just give me a second.”
”Don’t bother,” Derek shakes his head. ”I’ve got a jumper box. Hang on.”
Poor guy was flustered as hell. And well, Derek couldn’t help but enjoy being something of a hero to the stranded motorist. That kind of thing always fed his ego a bit but he also knew he was the right guy to help someone in a jam. He’d been running his own garage for almost five years now.
Derek heads to his car and drops off the snacks through the passenger side. Then he pops the trunk and pulls out the jumper box.
When he returns to the stranger with the jeep, the guy is using his tee shirt to rub the sweat off his face. Derek is treated to a flash of abs.
”You can go sit in my car if you want. I’ve got water in there.”
”Nah, I’m good. I’m used to it. She breaks down a lot.”
Derek sets down the jumper box and starts hooking it up.
”She?” He asks.
”I call her Roscoe.” The guy smiles in his direction. ”And I’m Stiles.”
”Derek.”
”Derek, thanks for helping me out. So what do you call her? I mean, she’s gorgeous. You probably get a lot of speeding tickets.”
Derek looks up, and realizes Stiles is talking about his Camaro. He glances over his shoulder at it, then gets back to work.
”I don’t have a name for her— it. It’s a car.”
“Oh come on, where’s the fun in that? Especially when Black Beauty is just out there for the taking. How much horsepower does she have? I mean, look at this jeep. She’s got heart and soul and so many miles the odometer stopped turning. Roscoe is perfect for her.”
Derek finishes up and directs Stiles to try starting it.
The guy brushes past him and climbs in the open driver’s side door. There’s a little sweat spot in the center of Stiles’s shirt, right where his spine would be. Derek’s face feels warm looking at it.
—————————————
“What do you mean When’s the last time I got the differentials looked at and the filters changed?”
Stiles is offended. Open-mouthed. How dare this man question his jeep? The audacity. The judgment. The… what were differentials anyway?
“What are you, a mechanic?” He huffs.
”Yeah.”
Stiles stares at Derek. Derek stares back.
”Wait, really? You’re a mechanic?”
”Yes. And to be honest, it’s a miracle you made it this far. This engine needs major work.”
”Define major.”
”Five grand, easy.”
”Wh.. I can’t afford that.”
”I’d say bring it to my garage, I could give you a break on the price, but. I doubt you’re headed where I am.”
”Well, where’s your garage?”
”Beacon Hills.”
”Beacon Hills?” Stiles blinks. “That’s where I’m from. I mean, where I’m going. I was from there, now I’m going back.”
Derek’s face changes. From a little pink from the heat to pale like a ghost.
”You’re from Beacon Hills?”
“Yeah, I grew up there. My dad is having surgery next week, so I took some time off to go stay with him.”
”Oh. Sorry about your dad.”
”Nah, it shouldn’t be a big deal. He’ll just need some help and he’s stubborn like me.”
”Right. Well. If you… hm.”
Stiles could see the internal battle going on in Derek’s mind. What was he about to offer?
”If I… what?” He prompts.
”I don’t know how much of a rush you are in, but if you wanted. I could pick up some parts and get your jeep running. I mean, enough to get you to Beacon Hills. Then once you’re settled in with your dad, I could work on it some more at my shop.”
“Really?”
Derek holds up a hand. “This is just a bandaid, and I say bandaid very loosely. But yeah, it should get you there.”
Stiles feels like he just won the lottery. A mechanic willing to take care of his Roscoe? And a hot one too, at that. Derek had these bright green eyes and dark lashes and hair. And the perfect amount of stubble for such a sharp jawline. Not that Derek’s hotness mattered, but he was doing something really nice for Stiles, and right when he needed it most.
”Okay, so, uh what do we do for now?”
“Now we find an auto parts store and I pick up a few things. Then we come back and get your jeep started.”
Derek closes the hood of the jeep and picks up the jumper box.
Stiles scurries over to close the driver’s side door and locks it. Then he catches up with Derek at the back of Black Beauty. Yeah. He was using it. Someone had to.
”So I get to ride in your Camaro?”
Derek’s eyebrows make a funny shape. ”Unless you want me to put you in the trunk.”
”Haha… wait, you’re kidding, right?”
Derek closes the trunk and points to the passenger side.
”Get in.”
Stiles feels his feet moving before he can even answer.
Their trip to the auto parts store proved that Stiles had vastly overestimated his handiness and ability to “work” on his jeep. As Derek moves through the aisles, smoothly and effortlessly finding what he’s looking for and picking things out, Stiles can’t do anything but follow and stare shamelessly at the guy. The view was great from back here. And seeing expert mechanic Derek in action? Yeah, even hotter. He dutifully holds the items he’s handed.
What even is this? He’s reading the label on something and ends up walking right into Derek’s back.
”Oh, sorry,” he’s saying as Derek turns. Well, now instead of crotch to ass they’re chest to chest, save for a little distance created by the supplies Stiles has in his arms.
Derek stares for a second, then something in his features softens.
”At least you didn’t do that in the bathroom.”
Stiles is left standing there, face red.
”I—“
Derek is strutting — yeah, strutting because Stiles said so — off towards the counter to ask the clerk about something. By the time Stiles regains his composure and joins him, Derek is filling out some kind of form.
Stiles leans over to look.
A parts order?
”They don’t have the right one for your jeep,” Derek explains. “But they can overnight the part.”
”Will that cost a lot?” Stiles sets the items he’s been carrying on the counter and looks at the clerk.
”Don’t worry about that,” Derek answers first. “I don’t charge stranded drivers.”
”Wait, but you’re buying so much. I should be paying for this.”
Not that he could really afford it, but..
”I got it. Anything we don’t use I can take back to my garage.”
”But — hold on a second. Did you just say the part would be sent overnight? As in arriving tomorrow?”
Derek hands the paperwork back to the clerk and turns to face Stiles.
”Yeah, I did. You got plans tonight?”
—————————————
Derek shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. Being the big strong hero, rescuing Stiles from the hot California heat, taking him shopping for his jeep, flirting with him in the middle of an auto parts store… but he did. He was enjoying it. And found it incredibly amusing how Stiles went from a hundred miles an hour to zero when he did. Getting a guy who never shut up to stumble over a single word was amusing. Not that he did this sort of thing with everyone he helped out. In fact, he'd never done anything like this with a complete stranger. But there was something about Stiles’s big brown eyes and those abs he saw earlier that made his pulse race. And he couldn’t stop thinking about those long legs wrapping around him.
Once they’re back in the Camaro, Derek takes a deep breath and lets it out. It was probably dinner time. The sun was starting to drop westward.
“Is there anything you need from your jeep for the night?” he turns.
Stiles is staring at the bottles of water Derek purchased earlier.
”Uh, maybe a change of clothes would be good,” Stiles mutters.
Derek picks up one of the bottles and holds it out across the console.
”Here.”
Stiles takes it with a “thanks” and twists the cap open.
”You can borrow some of mine if you want. I meant like medicine or anything that’s valuable.”
”Oh, yeah,” Stiles seems to get back online after a long swig of water. “Yeah I do have that, and my laptop.”
”Okay,” Derek turns the car on. “Let’s go get your stuff, then find a motel for the night.”
While Stiles is pilfering through the back of the jeep, Derek calls his mom. He’s probably going to miss the meeting tomorrow. She tells him that it’s okay, that he did the right thing helping a stranded driver. Derek sees lightning in the distance, and hopes if anything works on the jeep, it’s the seals around the windows.
“Man, I think a storm is coming,” Stiles says as he climbs back into the Camaro with a duffel bag. “The air feels cooler all of a sudden.”
“Hey, uh,” Derek looks around. “I’m not sure if you can technically park here overnight.”
”Oh, right. I’m sure it’ll be fine.“
”You sure? It could get towed.”
”Think they would drag it to your garage for me?”
Derek snorts. “It’d cost you.”
”Right. Okay, I’ve got another idea.”
Stiles fishes into his pocket and pulls out his phone.
”What are you doing?” Derek watches.
”My dad is actually the Sheriff,” Stiles is swiping at his screen. “He can ask the local P.D. to leave it alone for the night.”
A sheriff’s kid, huh. Derek wouldn’t have guessed it. Most of those guys were grade-A assholes, thinking they were above the law, that they could do anything because they could get away with everything. Stiles had attitude, there was no doubt about that, but. It felt a lot like a fuck the system and not much like Do you know who my father is? He’d been more than okay taking a chance at leaving his jeep parked at a random rest stop overnight, and only called his dad for a favor when Derek pressed the issue.
“Can you pass me the salt?”
Derek hands over one of the little packets of salt that had come with their food. They were sat under an umbrella at a picnic table outside the only motel with an available room in town. They’d checked in and went straight for the nearest burger joint, not even bothering to drop their stuff in the room first. The rain was coming, it was just a matter of time now.
”Man, this is good. How’s yours?” Stiles swirls a French fry in some ketchup.
”Yeah, it’s pretty good,” Derek concedes.
”So, you probably know my dad, then, since you’re from Beacon Hills. You ever been arrested?”
Derek glares up from his cheeseburger.
”You might as well tell me, because I can just look you up when I get to the station.”
”That sounds sort of illegal. Unless— are you a deputy?”
Derek’s eyes take another scan of the man sitting across from him. He hadn’t noticed a badge or weapons on the guy before when he was ass up out the front of the jeep. But he hadn’t paid close attention when Stiles had gone to pack up his things either. Rookie mistake for someone like him.
Stiles’s smile turns lopsided.
”Want me to Mirandize you before we continue this conversation? Or should we go straight to the handcuffs?”
”You’re full of shit,” Derek picks up his drink. He can tell, too. Stiles could talk a big game, but the lie came through for someone listening as closely as Derek did.
”Ah, what gave me away,” Stiles sits back and laughs.
Derek shrugs.
The two don’t say anything for a moment, just finishing up their meals.
”I got picked up a few times as a kid,” Derek confesses as he stacks the empty food wrappers. “Just stupid teenager stuff. No charges though.”
”Such a good boy,” Stiles drawls. Then he sighs. “I’d definitely not have a driver’s license if all the speeding tickets I’ve evaded over the years had stuck.”
“Can that jeep even go over fifty?”
”Hey! I’m counting on you to make sure she can, otherwise I’ll be riding shotgun in Black Beauty all the way to Beacon Hills.”
Derek shakes his head with a smile. Black Beauty, huh. Thunder rumbles closer now, sending the hair on the back of Derek’s neck up.
”We better get inside.”
—————————————
“Well this is awkward.”
Stiles stands next to Derek in the doorway of their motel room, bags in hand, rain falling outside behind them, and stares at a single queen bed. He looks around. There’s a table and three chairs (three? Why three?). TV on a small console. Bathroom in the back.
”It’s fine, I can sleep on the floor,” he hears Derek say.
”Are you kidding me? You’re fixing my jeep for free, you bought me dinner, and I saw you slip a credit card to the front desk — don’t think I didn’t. So, no. You get the bed.”
Stiles pushes past Derek and sets his things on one of the chairs. He drags one of the others over and sits, resting his feet on top of his own duffel bag.
”I’m most definitely sleeping right here.”
”Are you sure?”
”I’ve slept in my jeep before. I’ve slept on hospital waiting chairs before. Trust me, I’ll be fine. It’s just for one night.”
”Alright,” Derek glances towards the window as thunder rumbles outside. “You want to shower or do you just want to crash?”
Stiles looks too, rain coming down hard now. Driving home in this would have been nearly impossible, jeep problems aside.
”Might as well shower. This storm is getting pretty noisy.” He pushes back to his feet and unzips his bag.
When Stiles exits the bathroom, freshly showered and changed, his phone is buzzing on the table. Flash flood warning. Great.
”I saw it too,” Derek is saying. “Hopefully the power stays on.”
Stiles looks up and catches Derek peeling his shirt off on his way into the bathroom. Dead center on his back is a large spiral tattoo. It disappears as the door closes.
“Nice,” Stiles whispers to himself.
He gets himself situated for the night. Plugs in his phone. Steals a pillow from the bed. Finds an extra blanket in the closet. Lays out across two chairs with his feet up and stares at the bathroom door. Wonders how he never once came across Derek growing up in Beacon Hills. They couldn’t be more than a few years apart in age. The town wasn’t that big. Had they gone to high school at the same time? Did Derek have any siblings? He would have remembered a face like that.
Or had he been too distracted with lacrosse and playing video games with his best friend every weekend and obsessing over smart, red-headed girls who never gave him the time of day? That had gone… atrociously bad. Same with the girlfriends who came after. It wasn’t until his second semester in college that Stiles realized his lighthearted attraction to a few of the guys in his dorm building was actually the real romantic kind. He hadn’t dated a woman since.
Stiles lets his eyes fall closed to the sound of rain hitting the windows and shower water hitting the bathroom tile. Well. Derek clearly didn’t remember him either, so. Obviously their paths hadn’t ever crossed. Until now…
Stiles is running through the forest preserve near his childhood home. It’s a cold night, moon shining big and bright overhead. He knows these woods like his own backyard, but tonight they seem dark and unfamiliar. Where was Scott? They’d come out here together earlier this evening, after he'd heard something juicy on the police scanner. Of course he’d drug his best friend out of bed to come with him.
Thump, thump, thump.
His shoes pounding the ground one foot after the other.
Thump, thump, thump.
His heart racing as he searches.
”Scott? Scott!”
He’s listening as hard as he can, but the wind eats up his own voice and spits an awful sound back at him. Almost like howling in the distance.
Was he running in circles? He swears he’s seen this big old tree stump before.
There.. beyond the trees. Some kind of light. No.. not lights.
Eyes. Small and beady and staring right back at him.
He’s turning, running, racing back, hoping some wild animal isn’t at his heels.
But he gets ahead of himself, feet unable to anticipate the uneven terrain, slippery leaves, and rogue tree roots reaching up from the ground —
“No!”
He’s tripping, falling, tangled in the weeds.. and the animal has caught him, grabbing at his arms and legs..
—————————————
Derek is in the middle of brushing his teeth, damp towel hung around his hips, when the power goes out. He figured it would happen eventually, which was why he’d rushed through his shower. The water pressure sucked anyway. Luckily his eyes are pretty good in the dark and there are still occasional flashes of lightning coming through the windows. He finishes up, getting dressed and exiting the bathroom to find Stiles completely passed out on the guest chairs, as promised.
Derek hangs his towel up on one of the hooks to dry, and wanders over closer to the other man where he sleeps. So much for the storm keeping him awake, although the thunder did seem to be moving off into the distance now. Stiles is sprawled across two chairs under a blanket, a leg hanging off the side of one, head angled a bit awkwardly against a propped up pillow. How was that even comfortable?
Derek turns away before his thoughts get the better of him. A queen bed was small for two grown men. Derek was a full six feet tall and Stiles had to be real close to that. But. For one night. They could both have fit. Separate blankets and some space in the middle (very little space)... it could have worked.
Derek checks his phone one last time and climbs into bed. He can hear Stiles’s breathing, and ends up focusing on it as the rain fades and the lightning stops. He closes his eyes and starts to drift off…
THUMP.
Derek’s eyes fly open. What was that?
It’s Stiles. He’s tangled up in his blankets on the floor.
“Are you okay?”
No answer. Was he still asleep? After that?
Derek pushes the covers back and goes over to Stiles, slipping his arms under the mess of blankets and man. He's squirming around, muttering in what must be a bad dream. His nose brushes against Derek’s cheek.
“I got you, I got you.” Derek tries to reassure him.
He carries Stiles over to the bed and lays him down. Stiles mumbles something else and burrows deeper into the blanket, until all that’s showing is a dark mop of hair. With a sigh, his breathing slows again.
”Okay.” Derek goes back around to his side and gets back into bed. That settled it. They were sharing.
—————————————
Stiles wakes up in the slow, dizzy fog that came from vivid dreams and memories. He’s not as stiff as he thought he was going to be considering he had slept on.. the bed. Wait, what? How had he gotten over here?
”Morning.”
Stiles looks up and spots Derek at the table with a to-go cup of coffee. There was a tray nearby with another cup and a small bag.
”I told you,“ Stiles starts untangling himself from the blanket. “I’d take the chair, and you could have the bed.”
“Turns out the chair didn’t want you. It evicted you around midnight.”
”It did?”
”Yeah. Coffee?”
Stiles nods and gets upright with a yawn and a stretch. He hits the bathroom first before joining Derek at their motel room table. Sunshine is working its way through the windows, evidence that the storm had indeed passed at some point during the night.
”So you slept on the floor?” He asks as he eases the second coffee free of the tray. It smells good. He takes a sip. Hell yeah.
”No.”
Stiles looks up from his cup. “In.. the car?”
”No.”
Stiles looks back over to the bed.
”Bingo,” Derek says.
”Maybe we should have just agreed to share it from the beginning,” Stiles shrugs. “And obviously we both fit. I mean, we’re adults. Right?”
”That's what I figured.”
It wasn’t a big deal. So he‘d shared a bed with a really hot mechanic that he just met. But nothing happened.
Why did that feel… a bit disappointing? Stiles ignores the feeling and reaches across to drag the little bag over in his direction. He peeks inside and finds muffins and donuts.
“I sleep pretty heavy but I can’t believe I slept through all that,” Stiles plucks a glazed donut free and closes the bag. “The storm, falling, and you leaving to get breakfast.”
“I can be pretty quiet when I want to be.”
”You’re like a cat or something. Even at the store yesterday. Freaky quiet.”
”Probably comes from growing up with a big family. You learn how to be loud when you need to be and quiet when you want to be.”
”You sneak out a lot when you were younger?”
”Something like that, yeah.”
Stiles takes a few bites and sips at his coffee.
”I’m trying to figure out how I somehow didn’t know you growing up.”
Derek’s expression turns inquisitive. “What do you mean?”
”I mean, look at you,” Stiles points with the second half of his donut. “I definitely would have noticed you if we were in high school together.”
Derek seems momentarily confused by this. He even glances down at himself, still clad in a tee shirt and sweatpants.
Stiles sets the food down and puts his hands around his mouth like he’s about to make a big announcement.
”You’re hot, Derek. You’re really attractive. Handsome. I would have noticed your hotness.”
Stiles feels a pang of excitement when Derek’s cheeks flush a light pink. The guy even buries them behind his coffee. How freaking adorable. Big serious mechanic dude getting flustered by a compliment.
”Did you play sports?” He offers the guy an exit ramp. Derek takes it.
”Basketball.”
”Hmm…” Stiles thinks back. No, he definitely didn’t remember anyone on the basketball team looking like Derek. Or a smaller, younger version of him. “No, you mustn’t have been there when I was. Which makes you… how old?”
Derek seems to have to think about that for a moment. Then he answers with: “How old are you?”
”Wh… uh, twenty-four.”
”Right. So I’m twenty-eight.”
Stiles squints. That was curiously just long enough to ensure they wouldn’t have been in high school at the same time. Maybe he shouldn’t have answered that and made Derek go first. But why would the guy lie about his age? That would be silly.
”Cool,” he says, just letting that topic go. He opens the bag back up and searches for something else to eat. Decides on a small blueberry muffin.
Derek’s phone dings from the nightstand, drawing him away from their meal.
”Oh,” he frowns.
”What is it?”
”I guess flash floods are keeping the valley roads closed off. No one in or out. Your jeep part won’t be here until tomorrow. And we can’t leave either.“
”So… another night together?”
They both look over at the bed.
”Another night together.”
—————————————
Derek can’t help but feel a little pang of excitement at the idea of spending another day (and night) together with Stiles. He knows it’s just the low grade attraction he feels towards the guy, but Beacon Hills was a small town. Dating opportunities were somewhat limited. His mother’s frequent visitors often brought along what Derek could only assume were prospects. He’d made it clear to her that he’d rather stay single his whole life than have his marriage arranged. Thankfully, she didn’t push the issue, only asked that he be polite to their guests. She probably thought someone would pique his interest eventually. Which was why he started crashing in the apartment above his auto shop when his mother entertained. His sisters and uncle were much more social than he was, anyway.
Stiles has been drumming his fingers on the table without a word ever since they realized they’d be spending another twenty-four hours together. Derek wonders if maybe Stiles is disappointed. Or uncomfortable. Or didn’t want to be around him any longer.
You’re hot, Derek.
He couldn’t hate Derek’s company that much if he was willing to say that to his face. Derek pretty much felt the same about Stiles, what with his warm gaze and the little splattering of moles that disappeared down the side of his neck into his shirt. Even the rapid whip of his fingers against the table caught his attention. He liked Stiles’s quick-witted banter and the way he so boldly stated the way he saw things.
”So—“ Derek starts.
”I gotta go check something,” Stiles explodes out of his seat.
“…Okay.”
”I’ll be right back,” Stiles is slipping on his shoes.
”Sounds good.”
”Right— right back.”
And.
He was out the door.
”…Right.”
Derek has no idea what that was about. It’s not like Stiles could get in the Camaro and drive away. Was he going to the vending machines? Or calling his dad? Maybe he just wanted some time alone. This small room was going to feel even smaller by the end of the day if they didn’t get out for at least a little bit.
Derek’s phone buzzes again, and this time it’s his mother. Her visitors were also kept away by the storms, and the meet-up had been rescheduled for next week. Now Derek had no impending deadline or reason to rush back to Beacon Hills. He supposed Stiles really didn’t either, since his father’s surgery was next week. They could stay through the weekend if they so desired. Not that Stiles would want to…
”Derek!” Stiles flies through the door ten minutes later, arms full of little pamphlets and brochures.
”What is that.”
”This, Derek, is how we spend our twenty-four hours trapped in town.”
“It is?”
”Yeah, it is,” Stiles starts dealing the pamphlets to Derek one after the other. “I got them from the front desk. There’s aura-reading, and here is UFO hunting, and this is bird watching, and that’s for a reptile farm, and then a gemstone emporium, and this cowboy superstore, and.. oh, this. We gotta check out this one.”
Derek looks down at what he’s been handed.
”Miss Uki’s World Famous Number One Most Recommended Healing Hot Spring?”
”Yeah! It’s a tea shop with a hot spring in the back!”
”I don’t think hot springs are a thing around here.”
”This brochure says otherwise.”
Derek almost laughs. It was ridiculous. But he sort of wants to go see just how ridiculous. ”Anything else?”
”Uh, horseback riding and a haunted barn.”
”Not into riding?”
”I’m scared of horses.”
”And haunted barns?”
”I’ve seen enough horror films to know that’s a bad idea.”
”Right.”
Derek fans the brochures in his hands and glances over them. His heart is starting to race. Stiles had run out — literally run out of the room — to find them things to do today. It was sweet and thoughtful and made him feel like Stiles liked spending time with him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone made him feel wanted this way. Usually it was more about his looks and his mother’s connections than Derek himself. But Stiles wanted to spend the day doing stupid tourist stuff with him. Because they’d be doing it together.
Derek sighs in jest. ”Well. We better get moving if we’re going to see all of these in one day.”
—————————————
“Stiles,” Derek’s voice comes through the thin bathroom door. “Can I come in?”
”Yeah,” Stiles pulls it open and almost drops his toothbrush. Derek is shirtless, sweatpants resting under the band of his boxers, holding up his own dental hygiene supplies.
”Figured we’d save time this way. If you don’t mind.”
”Nah, yeah,“ Stiles moves back a step so Derek can squeeze in past him. ”You’re good.”
Yeah, Derek was really good. Especially standing next to him while they both brush their teeth over one small motel room sink. Stiles tries to keep his eyes directly ahead, but finds them wandering over to Derek’s reflection. Being a mechanic had done the guy very well over the years, little muscles in his forearms and shoulders flexing as he brushes. Then his abs — was an eight pack even possible?? — rippling as he bends over the sink to spit and rinse.
“Hey.”
Stiles flinches a little, realizing he’s been caught staring again. “Yeah?”
”So I don’t have swim trunks with me. Think we need them for this hot spring?”
“Oh, me either. Huh. Well, we could try to buy some before we head over there. Or I guess… like, gym shorts?”
Derek nods and sets his toothbrush on a fresh hand towel.
“Sounds good to me.”
The first stop on the Derek and Stiles First Best and One-Day-Only Tour of Tourist Attractions was bird watching hosted by Sam, a local wildlife enthusiast. She was beyond pleased to have newcomers, and even lent them a pair of binoculars while six or seven senior “regulars” took their places on a set of park benches arranged in a semi-circle.
”I hope you don’t mind sharing with your older brother, kiddo.”
Stiles freezes, mouth shaped in a question, as she pats his head and walks away.
Derek is fighting off a smile. “Come on, little bro.”
”Hey, I’m not your bro, and no one actually calls their siblings that.”
”You’re right,” Derek pauses briefly. Then, “Come on, short stack.”
”That’s so much worse!”
”Shh, or I’m telling Mom.”
”Derek, I swear to God.”
”No swearing or you’ll get grounded again. No TV and no video games.”
”Oh really?” Stiles leans up on his toes into Derek’s face. “Well you can go fu—“
Derek’s hand clasps over his mouth, the other hooking over his shoulder to tug him away from the group and down to an empty bench.
Stiles is face first in the guy’s chest and his shirt smells like pine cones and Fall leaves. Is that laundry detergent or did Derek’s skin just smell that amazing on its own? And the hand covering his mouth is big enough to stretch the length of Stiles’s jaw. It’s a little rough, but Derek doesn’t squeeze.
Even though Stiles kinda wants him to.
”Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Derek says quietly into his hair.
”Mhmm..” Stiles is embarrassed how close to a moan it sounds.
Derek lets him go and they sit down.
“Want to look?” Stiles hears him ask.
”Uh, you first,” he hands over the binoculars.
”Alright.”
Stiles uses the time to hide his flushed face.
Stops two and three on the day’s agenda go surprisingly fast, as the gemstone emporium was more like a gemstone side car and the reptile farm was closed for feeding. It doesn’t seem to sour the mood at all, though, as Stiles navigates on his phone and Derek drives. Derek seems to have a good sense of direction no matter how many little detours they have to take because of flooded roads. Conversation doesn’t always fill the space, but it’s never uncomfortably quiet either. Stiles talks about growing up at the Sheriff’s station after his mother had died. Derek asks about his favorite memories with her. They compare notes on playing high school sports. Stiles’s best friend had been on the lacrosse team with him. Derek’s uncle and sisters had come to all of his basketball games. Stiles thinks Derek would have been too popular to hang out with him. Derek thinks they would have made good lab partners.
Stop four is aura-reading with Clay, which Derek seems a bit hesitant about. His approach from the car to the front door seems slower than their previous tourist stops.
”You okay?” Stiles asks him. Maybe they should get something to eat soon.
”Yeah.”
Stiles reaches out and stops Derek. ”This stuff freak you out or something?”
”No. It’s, uh. Not really. I mean, maybe a little.”
”Come on, it’s just for fun. No one takes it seriously. But we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”
The reassurance seems to give Derek some courage.
”Yeah, okay. It’s not serious. I’m good.”
Stiles beams, happy he could help settle Derek’s nerves. They head inside and wait to be seen.
”I see a master of puzzles,” Clay tells Stiles. “You can solve any mystery, you can see all possible solutions. You’re clever like a fox.”
Stiles is handed a little card with a red fox drawn on it. Was this normal aura stuff? Stiles thought auras were about colors or something. He stares at the cartoon creature, then smiles and shrugs. Red. Works for him.
”And you…” Clay looks to Derek. He doesn’t say anything at first, then blinks in surprise. “Oh!”
”What is it?” Stiles asks.
“I see a transformation. From man to wild animal,” Clay lifts his hand and curls his fingers like claws. “You are made of power and nature and magic. Drawn to something bigger. A wolf under the moon.”
Derek is handed a card with a black howling wolf. His eyebrows pull tight together.
”Cool…” Stiles whispers.
Derek seems surprised at his reaction, but once their gazes meet his face relaxes.
”Cool,” he agrees. The two smile at each other.
”I recommend you two become private investigators,” Clay stands and walks out, drawing the curtains closed behind him. The room falls silent.
”Is… that it?” Derek asks.
”Best twenty bucks I’ve spent all day,” Stiles laughs.
After a late lunch and extra large sodas, the cowboy superstore is stop number five on the Derek and Stiles First Best and One-Day-Only Tour of Tourist Attractions. The place is huge, which made sense considering the locale. Stiles wanders the aisles aimlessly, with Derek following behind. The guy had been a little quiet since the aura-reading. What could he do to help draw his companion out of his thoughts?
He spins around, grinning.
”Have you ever tried on cowboy boots before?”
Derek looks absolutely horrified at the idea.
”Come on,” Stiles pleads, holding out his hand. “It’ll be fun. The boots do not judge. They do not hand out little cards with cartoon animals on them. They do not give career advice.”
Derek stares at his outstretched hand for a few seconds, then his face melts into a low laugh. He reaches out and takes it.
—————————————
Derek counts. It takes Stiles almost a full twenty seconds to realize that he isn’t letting go and they were, in fact, walking through the cowboy boots department holding hands. Derek swallows hard and chances a peek over at the guy. Stiles is peeking back.
”Um.”
”Yeah?”
”Nothing.”
”Okay.”
Their hands stay linked until Stiles finds a burnt orange pair of snakeskin boots. He lets go of Derek and picks them up.
”There’s no way these are real. Do you see these, Derek? I wonder if they have your size, what are you?”
”My eyes hurt just looking at them,” Derek blanches. “Twelve and a half.”
”Twelve and a… half. Damn. They don’t have any,” he sets the boots back down. ”Guess we better keep looking.”
”Hold on,” Derek plucks the boots back up. “What size are you?”
”Me?” Stiles looks down. ”Um, eleven.”
”Well, these should fit then.”
”For real? Aw, dammit.”
”You scared?” Derek waves the boots in front of him. Stiles seems to sense the underlying challenge.
”Hell no.”
He takes the boots from Derek and slips his shoes off, wiggling the long orange contraptions over each foot one at a time. When he stands back up, he looks a little like a baby giraffe trying to find his footing for the first time.
”Nice,” Derek smirks.
”I know, right?” Stiles walks up and down the aisle a few times. They look ludicrous, but Stiles doesn't seem to care.
“Okay, we need some for you now.” Stiles yanks the boots off and places them back on the shelf. Then he shoves his feet back into his shoes. They continue walking.
”How about these?” Derek asks, holding up a very respectable looking pair of brown boots.
”Very Western,” Stiles nods. “But we can do better. Woah, look at these!”
A large pair of black cowboy boots sat on top of the shelf, complete with spurs hooked onto the back.
”Please tell me these are your size…” Stiles picks them up. “Damn. Thirteens.”
“It’s okay if they’re a little big.”
Stiles grins. “Yeah? Okay, try them on.”
Derek does the same shuffle as Stiles, shedding his shoes and pulling the boots carefully over his feet. When he sets each foot down, the spurs tingle like little bells. Then he stands in the middle of the aisle and looks up at Stiles.
”Hm… it needs something. Stay right there!”
Stiles darts off around the corner.
“It already has spurs!” Derek calls out.
Stiles is only gone for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. When he does return, he’s holding out a black cowboy hat to match. Derek is waving his hands.
”Oh, no, no that’s—“
”Yes, you’re trying this on too.”
Derek’s hands slow to a stop. Then he sighs in defeat, and drops his head a little so Stiles can place it on him.
Stiles steps back and looks him over top to bottom. Derek feels like he can’t quite function like a human right now, just frozen in the middle of the aisle.
”Turn.”
Derek blinks. “What.”
”Do a little spin for me, Derek.”
”Wh—“ Derek’s face feels like it’s on fire.
”Go on. Either strut the catwalk or spin, it’s up to you.”
Derek glares hard for a few seconds. “No pictures.”
”No pictures, I promise,” Stiles holds his hands out to show they are empty.
Derek takes a deep breath, then starts to turn in place, giving Stiles a 360-degree view of him in his cowboy boots and hat.
“Oh my God, that’s so unfair!”
”What?”
”You’re even hotter with that on, like what the hell?”
Derek hears the voices drifting over towards them before Stiles does. He sort of hopes his companion doesn’t hear them at all, actually. Because in the next section over, a pair of women were watching and commenting in hushed voices. Derek moves in closer to Stiles, turning him away from the prying eyes and accusations to show him a stupidly ugly belt buckle.
”This isn’t a pride parade.”
“They definitely don’t belong in here.”
“Or in this town.”
“What a waste.”
“Good looking men who won’t ever marry a woman.”
“Or have babies.”
“Do they have to be so showy about it?”
“Keep that weird stuff at home, I don't want to see it.”
Suddenly, Stiles’s body stiffens next to Derek. He must have heard. Stiles fiddles with the belt buckle for a second.
”Think this thing could be used for blunt force trauma?”
“Don’t bother. They can’t get any stupider than they already are.”
”Can I go over there and yell at them? I really want to, Derek.”
”I know,” Derek glances over his shoulder at the two women. “I have a better idea.”
Derek knows this is gutsy. Really gutsy actually, in this town, with a pair of homophobic hags watching them, with a guy he had just met… But those things also give him a sudden rush of impulsivity.
He hooks his arm around Stiles’s waist and yanks him close, tipping his head down and planting a kiss on his mouth. Stiles’s frame goes rigid for a split second, then molds perfectly into his body.
It doesn’t last long, but man, it feels good. When Derek pulls back, he quietly suggests that the women might benefit from some of Sam’s bird watching if they were so interested in watching others.
Stiles’s eyes open up briefly, then a smile spreads. He got the hint. With a quick head tip, he’s kissing Derek again, arm raised to flip off their spectators. Derek is beaming, because for one, Stiles hadn’t pushed him away. And two, because Stiles is kissing him back. He revels in Stiles’s soft, plusher lips against his, and when they do separate, Derek pulls the cowboy hat off his head and plops it down onto Stiles’s. Underneath it, the guy’s cheeks are bright pink.
It turns out the cowboy superstore did actually carry swim trunks, but they were hardly high fashion. Stiles talks Derek into a pair with sheep on them and Derek forces Stiles to choose between a pair with train cabooses and one with a giant corn husk on the… front. He takes the cabooses.
Derek feels weirdly electric as they leave the store and start the trip to the one and only Miss Uki’s World Famous Number One Most Recommended Healing Hot Spring. Stiles is giving him directions and setting his phone up in one of the Camaro’s cup holders with the maps app open. Derek can hear him, words registering, but his body is driving on auto-pilot while his mind races.
He had kissed Stiles. In public. In front of others. It was their first kiss too. Not the most romantic scene, but the spontaneity of it had excited him.
”I, uh. Hope that was okay in there,” he says after merging into traffic.
“Are you kidding me? That was great. Those women nearly choked, their pearls were clutched so tight.”
“That was the goal,” Derek concedes.
“Man, I was so mad back there. How did you stay so calm? If you hadn't stopped me, I would have bitten their heads off.”
“I guess… practice. I used to get angry a lot when I was younger. Not angry with others, just… A lot of things that should have been other emotions somehow ended up as anger instead.”
“What did you do?”
“My uncle helped me. Taught me how to focus my anger. Sort of.. channel it. I learned how to control it.”
”You close with him?”
”He’s my best friend.”
Derek is waiting for more, for Stiles to let him know that the kiss itself was okay. But the more seconds that tick by without that happening, the less likely it becomes. Stiles seems fine, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the passenger door, looking around as they zip past buildings and cars. A good sign, but. Derek had sort of hoped this was his opportunity to find out if Stiles was interested in more.
The more the silence grows between them, the clearer the answer to that was. Derek knows starting something now could get complicated. They weren’t going to part ways after this, they’d be headed to the same town, same place they both grew up, and more than likely, going to see one another again. Especially since Derek had promised to work on Stiles’s jeep. So a quick hookup might lead to some very awkward moments later on.
Derek’s earlier buzz deflates quickly as they continue to drive. An acceptance settling in with each passing mile.
—————————————
Miss Uki’s World Famous Number One Most Recommended Healing Hot Spring is located on the very edge of town, a narrow road basically dead-ending in a parking lot. Beyond the long, flat building is nothing but nature, which seemed to be a good spot for a hot spring, if any.
Stiles looks down at their shopping bag where it sits in between his legs. He hadn’t really been able to stop thinking about the kiss that preceded the purchase. Derek’s body had been big and warm and strong up against his. It had felt like floating, like Derek had all of his weight in his arms. And that kiss, wow. Stiles had felt it all the way down to his toes. It was all for show, of course. A big, dramatic move meant to intimidate the two bigots yapping about them. But all Stiles could think about now was.. if the guy’s performative kiss was that good, what was it like when no one was looking at all?
Stiles can’t wait to get out of the car, because even just sitting next to Derek makes his body feel tingly all over again. The two pull the tags off their new swim trunks and head inside the tea shop. There they are greeted by a clerk who might just be as old as they were short. The sights and sounds and scents are a bit overwhelming at first, especially as the clerk scurries around pointing out the different selections. The shop is well stocked, and the clerk bombards them with options. Stiles never knew there were so many different types of tea that could help with so many different things. Despite being in some random town halfway between the state border and Beacon Hills, their expertise seemed to transcend time and place.
Then again… they could be full of shit and Stiles wouldn’t know the difference.
”I think the Sobacha would be good,” Derek is saying. “Could you add a little lemon and honey into it?”
Apparently Derek did.
The clerk ushers them towards the back and through a set of curtains, promising to bring the tea out once it finished brewing. Instructions are given: first they must use the showers, then they can go out the back to the hot spring. With a deep bow, the attendant retreats back out of the locker room door. All goes silent.
Derek and Stiles are left holding their swim trunks in one of those men’s shower rooms that just had spouts hanging off the tiled walls every few feet.
”This feels like high school lacrosse all over again,” Stiles blinks a few times. At least they were the only two in there. “Do we just…?”
”I think so,” Derek moves first, trying one of the lockers nearby. The door opens. He opens the one next to it too, and Stiles can see there is a robe, a towel, and spa slippers set inside.
Stiles is momentarily stuck in place as Derek removes his watch — why did that look so hot — and empties his pockets into the locker. Then he pulls his shirt off and Stiles gets another view of the dark, swirling tattoo on Derek’s back. But it’s gone quickly, as Derek turns.
”You coming, or are you watching?”
Both please, in that order. Stiles’s mouth opens… no words form. He gets with the program, joining Derek at the lockers and starting to remove his own clothes. It’s quiet, just the soft sounds of fabric being folded and towels shaken open. Stiles makes sure his eyes don’t leave the locker in front of him.
”This feels a lot like how we first met,” Derek breaks the silence.
Stiles quietly laughs. “In ten feet, turn right.”
”Make a U-turn,” Derek echoes.
The awkwardness softens a little, Stiles chancing a look over in Derek’s direction once he is confident the guy has his towel around his waist. Derek is smiling back. He points over Stiles’s shoulder.
”What is it?” He spins to look. There, in the corner, is a small shower stall, the only one in the room. It was not much more than a tiled cubby, but it did have a little half-wall for privacy. It was probably there for people who needed accessibility features.
”You go use that one,” Derek is saying. “I’ll use one out here. Okay?”
”Are you sure? I mean, I don’t think that stall is meant for me.”
”No one else is here, it’s okay. Go ahead. Here is a little soap pack.”
Stiles accepts the little packet, then rips it open on his way to the shower stall. He steps in and hangs his towel up, turning the water handle all the way to “H”. He hears a similar sound from somewhere behind him, the rush of water hitting tile. A few seconds later, it mutes a little. Which means Derek is showering.
Like… ten feet behind him.
Naked and showering.
Stiles mindlessly rubs the soap on his skin, wondering what the rest of Derek looks like beyond his broad chest and back. He knew what a good amount of Derek felt like, thanks to the manner in which he had drawn Stiles up against his body earlier. Stiles sort of regrets not getting his hands on the guy more during their kiss. But it had all been an act anyway, so, groping Derek would probably have been way over the line.
Suddenly the spray behind him cuts off.
“You almost done?” He hears.
Shit. “Yeah, I, uh. Yeah, I’m done.”
Stiles rinses everything away and cuts off the water. He has no idea what he’d even washed. He reaches for his towel and scrubs at his face and chest. Then wraps it around his waist, steps out of the shower—and gets a brief, glorious glimpse of Derek’s entire side profile as he lines up his own towel and loops it around his hips. Somehow his torso looked even longer, abs wrapping around underneath a giant ribcage towards his back, a hip bone poking out, round muscles in the back that cut in above a seriously thick thigh. The elongated stretch of quad muscles trailed down from there, flexing as Derek’s weight shifted and the towel is secured in place. And what Stiles spots in front makes his stomach flip over. Derek was packing in all the right places, and while Stiles had never really cared about that sort of thing, he suddenly wishes there hadn’t been a shower stall for him to use at all.
Derek is grabbing his swim trunks and closing his locker up, heading for the back door that led to the hot springs.
”Come on out whenever you’re ready,” he says as he disappears.
The guy was being almost unfairly considerate for Stiles’s modesty. He’s grateful though, especially since they hadn’t known each other very long and Stiles wasn’t exactly the type of guy to, let’s say, go out streaking. Derek seemed to have plenty of (much deserved) confidence in his own body, but he didn’t shove it in Stiles’s face. Or expect the same confidence from him. Derek was understanding. And thoughtful. And that meant more to Stiles than anything else he could have done in this moment.
When Stiles exits the shower room, sporting his new swim trunks, Derek is waiting for him in the foyer. He’s also in his new trunks, towel hanging over one shoulder.
”Thanks for waiting,” Stiles hooks his own towel around his neck.
”No problem. You ready to go out there?”
”Yeah,” Stiles smiles.
He exits first, not sure what to expect.
”Oh.”
”Oh?” Derek is right behind him. “Oh.”
”Is it supposed to look like this?”
”Like a pond? I don’t think so.”
Before them was a small stone patio with lounge chairs and tables, and what could only be described as a repurposed coy fish pond. Stiles steps in closer, and notices a little dial and button contraption near the edge.
”I wonder what this is for—“ he pokes at it.
Vvvvvrrrrrr….
Stiles jumps back as some sort of motor starts up. Derek joins him. They watch as bubbles start appearing in the water.
”So… it’s a hot tub?” Stiles blinks.
”I’m not sure that qualifies as a hot tub. Or a hot spring.”
Stiles snorts a little laugh. He can’t help it. This was so ridiculous, just like so many other things they’d experienced today. With a shrug, he tosses his towel onto the closest lounge chair and steps down off the ledge into the water. What’s the worst that could happen at this point?
”Oh, hey, okay, let’s see..” Stiles wades around a little before finding a ledge to rest against. “I’d say about sixty percent hot tub, forty percent hot spring.”
”Yeah?” Derek sets his towel down and climbs in too, dipping his whole body down in the water until only his head is above the surface. “Hm. More like seventy-five percent hot tub, twenty-five percent hot spring.”
Stiles sinks down to the same level, warm water touching his chin. “Okay, how about sixty-three, thirty-seven?”
”Sixty-eight, thirty-two.”
”Alright, sixty-eight, thirty-two,” Stiles moves back against the ledge, his head brushing against a plant that was growing out of the water. “Actually, this isn’t so bad. These flowers smell nice.“
He tries to ease one of them out of the way, but instead the bulb breaks loose into his hand.
”Oh, shoot,” Stiles fumbles with it, then twirls the flower around to feed the stem behind his ear.
”I got it,” Derek moves closer, body breaking the stream of bubbles to reach over and help. Stiles’s arms drop back into the water as Derek helps align the flower behind his ear. Up close, Derek’s wet body is steaming from the almost-hot hot spring, chest big as it rises and falls slowly in front of him.
”So what does your tattoo mean?” Stiles ends up blurting out. He just wants this moment to last a little while longer.
Derek’s head tips a little as he adjusts the flower. The base of his palm is lightly brushing Stiles’s cheek. And his cool breath is tickling Stiles's nose. “It’s a family symbol.”
”Like a crest?”
Derek’s fingers pause, then start moving again. “Mhm. Something like that. There you go.”
”How do I look?” Stiles swallows as Derek’s gaze finally meets his. It looks like springtime dew.
”Beautiful.”
Stiles thinks now might be a really good time for them to try kissing again. This was a more romantic spot. They were alone with nothing but the soft sounds of water churning. Flowers hanging around them. Steam rising slowly from the water.
Not to go all Little Mermaid on D(Eric)k, but now’s your moment, floating in a blue lagoon.
”Der—“
”Here is your tea!” A tiny voice rings from the patio behind them. Stiles flinches back from Derek’s hand. Behind them, the attendant from the tea shop is setting a tray down on the table closest to their towels. Then they retreat back inside using the same bow as before.
”I’ll go get the tea,” Derek moves off, turning and climbing out of the water.
—————————————
There was something about Stiles that made the awkward moments, surprises, and their last-minute-decisions today seem as stress-free as if everything had gone perfectly to plan. What others might chalk up to a lost cause, Stiles shrugged and kept on as if to say why not? Derek considered himself a pretty chill person, but even he had his limits. But with Stiles, everything just felt.. light. Open. Like anything was possible, even in the strangest of places. Which was what made today so enjoyable. Even when someone thought they were brothers. Or turned them away because the reptiles were getting fed. Or made their closed-mindedness known. Or charged them top dollar to sit in a warm pond. It all was fine, because Stiles was there with him.
Ah, shit. Derek was crushing hard on the guy, wasn’t he?
As he and Stiles sit on the edge of the pond, sipping their tea, he can’t help but want more. Stiles was different from the usual parade of admirers that came to meet with his mother. They were often power-hungry or being forced into it. Neither was a very good option for Derek. But the man sitting next to him was unique, with his own ideas and path in life, completely separate from Derek’s. It felt like an escape. No, more like an adventure.
Wasn’t that what love was supposed to be anyway?
Derek chastises himself. Going from interested to crush to the L-word in less than a day was dangerous. Was he that desperate for something different? Or was he just enjoying the chase? Stiles hadn’t even hinted at feeling the same way.
”By the way,” Stiles is saying. “Thanks for letting me take the stall back there.”
Derek looks over and notices a flush across Stiles’s skin. From all the steam?
”I figured we probably weren’t ready for full frontal yet.”
Stiles’s face does a thing, then turns even redder.
”Are you okay? Too hot?”
Derek convinces Stiles to take a break, helping him out of the pond, into his towel, and setting him down on one of the lounge chairs. Derek goes to sit on the other one, but Stiles grabs his arm and pulls him down next to him instead.
Stiles asks him how he knows so much about tea. Derek explains that his mother and her best friend were really into this kind of thing. How many nights had he woken up to the earthly stink of some new flavor Satomi had brought over?
The whole time he’s talking, Derek can feel Stiles’s gaze on him. And every time he glances over, those big deep brown eyes threaten to pull him in. Being this close made him want.
When they get back in the water, it’s more of the same. Stiles looming soooo very close. Derek getting lost in his gaze every time. What were they talking about now? It’s like his ears are fuzzy. And that mole on the top of Stiles’s shoulder keeps catching his eye. And — Stiles is touching him. Transferring the flower over to his ear instead. Suddenly he’s begging some unknown gods for the attendant to interrupt them again, because Stiles’s lips are only a few inches away and when they move to form his name it looks so inviting…
”Derek?”
”Hm?”
”Are you okay?”
”Hm? Yeah. Why?”
”Now your cheeks are really red. Maybe we should call it a day and head out.”
Derek is equal parts relieved and frustrated. On one hand, he really likes the solitude of this little hot spring. He likes that they’re nearly naked in the hot water together. He wants that proximity between their bodies to remain small.
But on the other hand, he was pretty sure he was the only one fighting that distance between them. Stiles seemed calm (calm for Stiles that is — the guy always had a rapid pulse it seemed), which didn’t exactly scream “kiss me” the way Derek was hoping. And pulling away was getting harder and harder to do.
They towel off in the locker room and get dressed, making their way back out to the car. Derek knows once they are done touring the town, they’d have to go back to that little motel room with that little queen bed. Then this attraction would be nearly impossible to escape.
”The last thing on our list was UFO Hunting,” Stiles waves a brochure towards Derek. ”They provide caffeine and snacks. Still interested?”
Derek is hoping UFO Hunting is the most popular nighttime activity in this town, so they won’t end up in the dark alone. Thankfully a tour group has also been trapped here for the night, and after purchasing tickets they are ushered onto a bus full of east-coasters. They find two seats near the back. Stiles makes small talk with the women across the aisle from them. They aren’t nearly as judgmental as the locals. Stiles grins over at Derek and nudges his shoulder.
Turns out UFO hunting was a lot like having a picnic in the middle of the night. The group spreads out and lays down on blankets to watch the sky. There are thermoses of coffee and candy bars. The guide walks around, sharing stories of unidentified flying objects, alien encounters, and other theories on life in outer space. Every once and a while someone spots something. Everyone oohs and aahs. Most of them look like planes. Some satellites. But a few Derek isn’t really sure of.
“Hey Derek?”
“Yeah?”
”Do you believe in alien life?”
Derek snorts.
”Is that a no?” Stiles hisses.
Derek turns his head. Even in the dark, he can see how wounded Stiles is.
”Do you?” He asks back.
”Of course I do. You think out of all the planets in all the solar systems in all the universe, that we’re the only ones?”
”Okay, you make a good point. But I don’t think they look like in the movies.”
”What, big bug-eyed dudes with little mouths inside their big mouths?”
Derek laughs. “Yeah, that.”
”Maybe we look as weird to them as they do to us.”
”Just a bunch of little hairy meat sacks.”
”Who are you calling a little hairy meat sack?”
“You, I guess.”
”I’m not that hairy.”
”I noticed.”
”Oh you did, huh— wait, you did?”
”Did you notice me?”
”Yeah. You’re hairy in all the right places.”
”Sti—hm.”
And Derek has to turn his gaze back to the sky because how had Stiles turned THAT moment romantic?
Derek wants to kiss him so badly that he’s biting at the insides of his cheek. He feels Stiles’s arm moving next to his, then the soft graze of a finger along the back of his hand. He squeezes his eyes closed. The touch vanishes.
”Derek, look over there.”
He opens his eyes and the hand is now pointing up towards the sky, at something moving across the stars.
On the walk back to the car from where the bus dropped the group off, Stiles slips his hands around the sleeve of Derek’s shirt. They are icy cold. Maybe the hot spring followed by a few hours in the night desert was a bad idea for temperature regulation. Derek presses his arm in to help seal some of the heat against Stiles’s fingers.
”How are you so warm all the time?” He laughs, cheek resting against the outside of Derek’s shoulder.
Derek shrugs a little. It ran in his family. When they get to the car, Stiles doesn’t let go. Instead he stands close to him, almost refusing to separate.
”So, Derek, what did you think of Derek and Stiles First Best and One-Day-Only Tour of Tourist Attractions?”
Derek blinks a few times. The Derek and Stiles what?
”Oh, sorry. That’s what I was calling it in my head all day.” Stiles’s eyebrows dip, mouth pouting in thought. “Did I really not say it out loud at all?”
“Not even once.”
”But you had fun?”
”I did,” Derek admits. “It was a lot of fun.”
Stiles is beaming. “First, best, and one-day-only.”
”You could make a career of organizing tours. Maybe start selling tickets once we’re back in Beacon Hills.”
”No way, we have to become private investigators, remember?”
Derek’s cheeks are lifting. “Right, right. Derek Hale, P.I.”
”Hell yeah, that sounds good on you.”
“Does it?”
”Yeah, it does.”
Stiles is looking at him again and he’s still really close and Derek knows for sure if he doesn’t pull away now, it’ll all be over. He turns —
“Why won’t you let me kiss you?”
—————————————
Stiles feels like he’s going to explode. He’s been throwing every longing look he can muster towards Derek all night, and every time he’s about to move in, the guy would pull away. In the hot spring, on the bus, laying out under a starry night sky, and now before they head back to their motel room. If not now, when?
”Wh—at?” Derek’s voice comes out all uneven.
”I said. Why won’t you let me kiss you, Derek? I’ve been trying to all night, and it looks like you want to, but then when I get close you turn away. Are you just teasing me, or did that kiss in the store mean nothing to you?”
”It — “
”It what?” Stiles squeezes Derek’s arm so he’s tugged in a little closer. ”Was it just for show or did you actually want to kiss me?”
”I, uh. I wanted to kiss you.”
”Good. Do you want to do it again?”
”Again?”
”Yeah, again. Do you want to kiss me again?”
”Yes.”
Finally. Stiles releases Derek’s arm. Grabs onto the collar of Derek’s shirt instead, leaning in.
”Good,” he whispers. “Now don’t. Move.”
He doesn’t mean literally, but at first, he’s worried Derek might have taken it that way. Because as Stiles seals his mouth over Derek’s, the guy is as solid as a statue. A second ticks by unbearably slow. But then, it’s like Derek comes alive, body becoming fluid as his hands grab onto Stiles by the waist and press him up against the side of the Camaro.
Stiles’s hands crawl up and over Derek’s shoulders, looping together around his neck. That weightless feeling is back again, as if Derek could lift Stiles up so easily if he wanted to. Those big paws slip around his back and squeeze, and Stiles can feel their heat through his clothes. His fingers are working through the ends of Derek’s hair, tipping their heads so he can open up his mouth a bit more and invite Derek’s tongue in. He’s given exactly what he wants, and it’s wide and wet and flat. All he can think about is how good it would feel lapping at other places on his body.
Derek’s kiss is like softly being devoured, all the air sucked out of his lungs, his lips tugged gently, tongue overpowering his. He wants to succumb to it, be eaten up again and again. Finally he pulls Derek back by the hair, a shaky inhale delivering him from certain unconsciousness in the small gap between their lips.
”Sorry,” Derek says.
”Sorry?”
”I moved.”
Stiles’s fingers relax again, then comb through the hair on the back of Derek’s head.
”It was a good move.”
Derek smiles in a way Stiles knows spells trouble for him. “I’ve got a few more.”
The ride back to the motel is without conversation, but not without communication. Once they are on the road, Stiles reaches over and takes Derek’s hand where it rests on the middle console. He traces Derek’s palm, drawing swirling patterns from the base all the way to his fingertips. He links their hands more solidly and lifts Derek’s to press a kiss to it.
Derek’s knuckle follows the curve of his lower lip. Then — slips past it into his mouth.
Which was how Stiles ended up sucking on Derek’s fingers, demonstrating his own oral skills as the guy did his best to drive while visibly aroused.
“You really know how to — oh.”
Those words only motivate him more, and Stiles grabs hold of Derek’s wrist with both hands to keep feeding him into his mouth. Derek is shifting around in the driver’s seat.
“If you keep doing that—“
”Hmmmmmmmm…?”
Derek looks over, eyes wide and a bit wild.
”Oh, fuck it.”
The Camaro skids off the side of the road, coming to a stop behind a stack of unused construction horses near an unoccupied road work zone.
”Are you okay—“ Stiles asks as the car is shut off. Derek is already halfway over the console to him. “Oh—“
He’s taken by another one of Derek’s all-consuming kisses, tongue mimicking what his fingers had just been doing inside of Stiles’s mouth.
“Sorry, I can’t wait,” Derek whispers against his lips. His hands are palming at Stiles’s body, pushing down between their chests to the front of his pants.
”No, I’m good with that.” Stiles feels his fly being opened. “Really, really good with that.”
The first touch sends his body arching up, Derek’s warm and still-wet fingers wrapping around his length.
”Oh shit!” He’s way too aroused already, that little tremble in his stomach warning him that he wouldn’t last long.
Derek’s mouth is covering his again, eating up the sounds he makes as Derek’s hand starts to pump up and down. He’s desperately trying to get Derek’s fly open, about to give up and force his hand down the front when he feels Derek pop the button loose for him.
His fingers wind their way inside, wrist forcing the zipper down as he gets a handful of Derek. Oh God. He was big and hard and twitching too. Their foreheads press together, lips connecting in between hard breaths and groans.
They’re both coming moments later, which would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so hot. Stiles had never wanted someone so badly that they’d had to get each other off because they couldn’t wait for the real thing.
”Jesus,” Derek is saying. “I’ve never— you really drive me crazy, you know that?”
“All that from just my mouth on your fingers?”
Derek’s laugh is low and throaty.
”Just wait till it’s my turn.”
The short drive from where they’d pulled over to the motel was somehow made worse by their little interlude on the side of the road. The edge had been taken off, sure, but now the car smelled a lot like sex, which just made him want Derek all over again. Stiles is pleased with himself though, that he was able to drive Derek to action with nothing more than his mouth and tongue.
Once parked, the two head towards their room, already a mess of kissing and touching by the time they stumble through the doorway.
Shoes are kicked away and shirts are peeled off. Stiles wants to get his hands on Derek’s body, pushing him back onto the bed and crawling on top.
He’s met with a sheepish grin and a long flex of muscle as Derek catches his body with ease.
“Gonna put that tongue back to use?”
“Mhmmmmm…”
”Just don’t — ah, teeth…”
Stiles grins up at Derek, bite sunk around the top of his pec. Derek groans and drops his head back down.
”That mouth might be the death of me.”
“Want to find out?”
Stiles explores Derek’s chest and stomach with his mouth, making sure to taste every single ridge of his abs. He’s pleased to see the same needy bulge in Derek’s jeans from earlier is back. Stiles catches Derek’s gaze and rubs his cheek right along the hidden length, pressing his lips to the fabric afterwards.
”Ah, fuck.“
He’s treated to a glorious twitch in Derek’s hips, a fresh flush blooming up the guy’s torso. Despite what had just happened in the car, the excitement is fresh again, especially as his fingers work the front of Derek’s pants open. Now he can get a real look at —
”Did you just lick your lips?” Derek’s voice sounds hoarse.
”You know, your voice gets all low and sexy when you’re turned on. Do you want me to ask or can I just—?”
”Just.”
That’s all Stiles needs to hear. Derek’s length is long and swollen and gloriously pink at the tip. He leans down and begins laboriously slow licks and lathers, relaxing his jaw before taking him in. The sweet-salt combination of Derek’s skin and precum fill his mouth. He can’t help it. He moans. It tastes good. Feels even better. And Derek lets him know exactly how much he likes it.
”Just like that,” he’s rambling. “Just… fuck, like that.”
It takes a few minutes for his gag reflex to calm down, but soon he’s taking Derek all the way in, throat accepting the intrusion, loving how it feels to be full of him. Derek’s fingers dig into his hair, helping him get the pace just right. And holy shit, is Stiles rewarded with a symphony of sounds from the man underneath him. A mix of whines and whimpers and shaky breaths.
“Wait.. Stiles. Hold on.”
Derek gently pulls away.
”You okay?” Stiles backs off.
”It’s gonna take a little bit longer this time. Your jaw might, you know, hurt,” Derek covers half his face with one hand, a stupid smile sticking out the other side.
Was Derek doing that considerate thing again? Stiles feels like he’s going to melt.
”C’mere?” Derek lifts his hand just enough so Stiles can see his eyes.
”Hell yeah,” Stiles is already grinning, crawling up Derek’s body to meet his lips.
As they kiss, Stiles feels his body moving, and when he opens his eyes, Derek is now on top, looming over him. Those eyes are a shade darker, a bit more intentional.
Especially as Derek moves down Stiles’s body to slide his pants and boxers off.
”You still with me?” Derek asks from between his legs.
”Yeah. I’m good—ohh.”
Derek is spreading him out, slowly running his hands along Stiles’s calves and knees, then up the backs of his thighs. Stiles’s body is lifted and shifted a few inches down the bed, right to the edge.
“Do you have protection with you?” Derek asks.
Stiles lifts his head. ”Yeah, in my —“
”We don’t need it yet.”
”Oh?”
”Mhmmm...” the sound dissolves against the inside of his thigh, Derek’s warm breath a rush against the newly exposed skin.
Stiles’s whole body shakes a little.
Derek’s got his mouth open against his leg, kissing and sucking dangerously close to his length. Stiles’s other leg is pressed out to the side, keeping him wide and open. It’s enough to make his face turn red, but he also sort of revels in Derek’s brazenness. He feels desired and wanted.
Stiles thinks he’s about to get the same thing he just gave Derek, but when the other man’s mouth opens, it lands lower.
”Oh, God…”
Derek was using his mouth to loosen him up, palms gently keeping Stiles’s legs apart.
”You… really don’t have to… okay no, keep going.”
Stiles squirms, hips moving to get closer but also play with the pressure provided by Derek’s tongue. He feels his length twitching, aching for touch, and he can’t help but grab onto himself, stroking a few times.
Derek disappears briefly. Stiles can hear a little popping sound, then Derek’s voice.
“Ready for more?”
”Yes.”
Derek is lubing up his fingers, the excess dripping down onto Stiles where he lays.
”Oops,” Derek says softly, palm cloaking Stiles’s dick. “I spilled.”
“Der—ek.”
That unfairly attractive chuckle is back.
”Okay, here we go.”
Derek is gentle, working fingers in one at a time. The slow tease is nearly unbearable, and soon Stiles has his hand back on himself again. He’s absolutely aching. And the lube makes it easy to pump his length while Derek fingers him.
”You have no idea how hot that looks,” Derek is panting against his thigh again.
“Can we— please, Derek.”
”Hell yeah we can.”
Derek retreats only far enough to get a condom on. More lube is added and then Stiles gets to watch Derek line up between his legs and start to feed himself inside. The stretch is uncomfortable at first, but not painful.
”Oh wow,” Stiles takes a deep breath, then a few shorter ones.
”You still good?”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”
”Keep going?”
Wait, he isn’t all the way in yet?
”Yes?”
Stiles sucks in a breath, each new inch adding pressure inside.
“You’re doing so good for me,” Derek sighs.
A rush of pleasure washes over Stiles.
”Really, really good. Keep opening up, just like that.”
A fuzzy buzz fills his head. Derek’s praise was like an aphrodisiac, keeping him lucid and aroused.
”Almost there.”
Stiles grabs his own length again. Strokes it to feed the heat filling his body.
”Need me to wait, or can I —“
”Derek. Move.”
Derek makes a soft whimpering noise, which Stiles would probably find odd if it wasn’t accompanied by a thrust that sent his eyes rolling back in his head. It’s like Derek’s size was made for him. Too big but somehow hitting all the right spots without hurting. The man knew how to prep, and knew how to work his hips so Stiles was nearly bucking off the bed to get him in deeper.
Stiles uses the momentum to fuck his own hand, the combination of filling and being filled almost too much to have all at once. His whole body is starting to tremble, bouncing around as Derek pumps.
”Der…ek. I’m gonna…”
“Do it. I want to feel you come.”
The request is like a command, and Stiles explodes in his hand, orgasm hitting instantly. It’s violent and untamed, his body lifting up and twitching. Derek’s hands catch him, letting him ride it out from start to finish.
When he finally slumps back down, Derek’s arm tightens around his waist. The other plants on the bed and Stiles opens his eyes just in time to watch Derek’s lips meet his chest.
”God, that was so hot,” Derek is kissing into his peck. Then his tongue reappears, licking up some of the thick mess there.
”What are you— holy shit.”
A new fullness has bloomed inside of him, and it felt like Derek had suddenly doubled in size.
”You better hold on.”
It’s the only warning Stiles gets.
Derek’s hips resume their pace, but this time Stiles can feel everything, heightened sensitivity from his own orgasm making each pump feel like it hit him deeper and deeper.
He can feel Derek’s mouth on his chest again, wet and hot and sometimes a little sharp? Must be the guy’s teeth. There’s scrapes and pinches but never full on bites. But the effect is the same, that familiar fizziness spreading under his skin again. Derek’s voice sounds far away but really it’s just buried in his skin, vibrating it with each groan.
—————————————
The hot squeeze of Stiles’s orgasm has Derek perilously close to the edge, hips ratcheting and shaking as his pleasure reaches a fever pitch. He’s calling out to Stiles, cum on his tongue, nose full of the small beads of sweat that have formed right under Stiles’s colllarbone. It’s sensory overload, but it pushes his orgasm even higher, his length throbbing as it empties out inside Stiles.
He wants it to go on forever.
A little while later, Stiles whispers. ”I think the sun is going to come up soon.”
They’ve gotten cleaned up and properly ready for bed. Now the two lay facing one another in the darkness.
Derek lifts his head and looks towards the window. Stiles was right. The sky was just starting to fade from night to dawn.
”I wonder if your jeep part will come in,” he wonders out loud.
”Is it bad that I sort of don’t want it to?”
Derek makes an amused sound.
”You do realize we’re both going to Beacon Hills, right? And that I’m going to fix your jeep. We can see each other again. If you want to.”
”I definitely want to.”
The fact that there’s no hesitation in Stiles’s voice makes Derek’s chest feel a little fluttery.
“Me too,” he admits.
”So I’ve got my dad, but that’s kinda it for family. Who do you have in Beacon Hills?”
”My mom. Uncle, I mentioned him. Two sisters. Some extended family too, cousins and stuff.”
”They all live together in one house?”
”It’s… sort of a fluid thing. People come and go a lot.”
”Oh, that’s cool.”
Stiles goes quiet for a moment, like he’s imagining it all.
”Is everyone in your family as hot as you?”
”I—“ That catches Derek off guard. “You planning on sleeping with all of them?”
”Oh God, no, I’m sorry.”
Derek laughs. It eases the panic from Stiles’s face.
”You ass,” Stiles snorts.
Derek watches Stiles fall asleep, cheeks still flushed from earlier, hair a mess, skin dusted in their afterglow. He knows things might get complicated from here. Stiles was only supposed to stay a few weeks in Beacon Hills. Derek’s family tended to avoid mingling too closely with outsiders. He didn’t even know what would happen when the Sheriff was strong enough to be on his own again. Or what his mother would say if Derek brought Stiles around.
But he had always operated a bit more independently from his family’s legacy than others. He had his own garage and his customers were from all over town. Maybe he was just better at passing for normal than the rest of the Hales.
A few hours later, the two make their way from the motel to the auto parts store to rest stop where all this had started two days ago. The jeep is there, waiting patiently, unharmed from the storm. Derek parks and stares at it without getting out.
”You okay?” Stiles already has his hand on the passenger door handle.
“Yeah.”
”You sure? You look like you don’t want to get out of the car.”
Derek presses his lips together.
”How would you feel about your jeep getting towed?”
”No, it’s okay, remember? My dad let the local cops know about it.”
”Not that,” Derek clarifies. “I mean if I had the jeep towed to my garage. And we drove down to Beacon Hills together.”
Stiles’s eyes brighten at the suggestion.
”Yeah, I’d love to. No funny business, though.”
”What?”
”Keep your hands to yourself, you know? Or we’ll never get there.”
“You’re saying yesterday was my fault?”
Stiles nods enthusiastically, taking Derek’s hand and putting it up to his face.
”I didn’t put your fingers in my mouth, that was all you.”
Derek thinks about it, just for a second.
”Don’t…” Stiles warns him. Halfheartedly.
”Mhm.”
Derek rotates his hand and grabs Stiles by the chin instead. He meets him halfway across, lips snagging Stiles’s mouth in a slow kiss.
When he lets go, Stiles looks a little dizzy.
”See, you’re in no condition to drive. I’ll call the tow.”
Derek pulls his phone out with a smile to call it in. This was going to be fun.
The End.