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Forever always felt like an immense concept to Stiles; he struggled to comprehend how anyone could claim to be infinite, or how certain species, according to Wikipedia, could potentially live forever. He could accept "almost forever," but the notion of true eternity seemed daunting.
Werewolves, theoretically, had the capability to live indefinitely due to their regenerative abilities. Magical beings could also achieve immortality through certain types of magic.
But if that was the case, why hadn't anyone lived that long before?
The Sheriff entered his son’s room and sighed. “What are you up to, Stiles?”
Stiles paused his frantic typing and met his father’s gaze. “Did you know that werewolves who reach full maturity have a 70% higher chance of living to 130 years?”
“No, I didn’t,” John replied, as Stiles beamed and returned to his computer screen. “But son, I thought we talked about this.”
Stiles hummed noncommittally, clicking to another webpage.
John crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. “Is this about your new friend?”
Stiles tore his eyes from the screen to look at his father. “What friend?”
John shrugged. “The young Hale.”
Stiles looked offended. “What? No, Dad! It’s about Scott, like I told you!”
The Sheriff hummed. “Whatever you say, kiddo. Now, it’s past midnight. You’ve got school tomorrow.”
Stiles nodded absentmindedly, refocusing on his task. “Yeah, sure, after I finish reading this article.”
“Stiles!” His dad’s tone brooked no argument.
With an exaggerated groan, Stiles slouched back in his chair. “Fine.”
They bid each other good night, and Stiles lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
His interest in werewolves wasn’t new; even before Scott got bitten two weeks ago, Stiles had been fascinated by all things supernatural. Discovering his own spark at ten had only deepened his fascination with anything non-human.
However, werewolves were notoriously secretive, living in packs and remaining isolated until they matured out of their teenage years. Consequently, there was scarce information available about them, and Stiles hadn't paid them much attention.
Then, in the middle of their senior year, Scott managed to get himself bitten somehow. The rogue Alpha responsible was never found, but Alpha Hale took responsibility for Scott. True to tradition, bitten werewolves either joined the pack of the Alpha responsible or remained with their own territory's Alpha. Talia Hale herself tended to Scott's wounds from day one, taking him under her wing and assuming full responsibility for his actions. She assured him of his safety during full moons at the Hale house and organized what Stiles jokingly referred to as "Werewolf 101." Scott, bound by pack law, couldn't divulge any secrets to outsiders, leaving Stiles clueless beyond what he’d gleaned from eighth-grade biology and Wikipedia.
Scott now had a personal bodyguard. Talia, as a powerful Alpha overseeing a large territory, couldn’t watch over Scott constantly, so she assigned her eldest son to protect him.
Derek was a sarcastic werewolf who irritated Stiles as much as Stiles annoyed him. When Stiles complained about Derek’s grumpiness, Scott vaguely mentioned Derek’s troubled past, but that was classified as pack business, inaccessible to Stiles.
It wasn’t that Stiles was bothered by it, per se; he was just frustrated by all the secrecy.
And he couldn't help but feel it was unfair that Scott had been bitten and gained a pack, while Stiles, a spark, couldn’t join a coven because he wasn't a witch. Discovering his powers when his mother was already ill meant he had to practice alone, poring over her journals and following her instructions. After she passed away, he continued honing his skills without guidance or support.
It was unfair because sparks were rare, and no one could offer practical help. They were protectors, yet Stiles had no one to protect. Joining a pack would have been ideal; his spark could forge connections impossible for humans. But he knew joining the Hale pack was nearly impossible; Wikipedia claimed non-werewolves rarely joined packs.
Shaking his head, Stiles scolded himself mentally. He should be happy for Scott’s guidance, not bitter about his own situation.
With a sigh, he finally drifted off to sleep.
**
Stiles spotted Scott emerging from the school doors and called out unnecessarily loud over the din of student chatter, "Hey, Scott!" He hurried over, launching into conversation. "I lost track of you after fifth period!"
His enthusiasm waned when he noticed the guilt on Scott's face.
"I'm sorry, man. I know we had plans, but Derek's taking me to the Hale house," Scott explained.
Sure enough, Derek appeared behind Scott, his expression bored as he greeted Stiles. "Hey, Stiles," he said absently.
"Oh," Stiles replied, his disappointment evident. "Yeah, okay."
"I wish I could come, but you know... pack comes first," Scott apologized sincerely.
Stiles managed a forced smile. "Yeah, I get it. Have fun, Scott. See you around, Derek," he added, then turned towards his jeep.
He should have been used to it by now. Pack comes first—that was the first rule Talia imparted to Scott when she found them in the woods. Protecting their own was paramount. It was a good mantra, but Stiles didn't anticipate it would mean being repeatedly sidelined because of it.
"Werewolves and their stupid secrecy," he muttered to himself as he fired up his laptop upon arriving home. Thankfully, his tabs from yesterday were still open, allowing him to resume his research.
Around 7 PM, his dad returned home, taking the opportunity to lecture Stiles about not wasting his time.
Stiles claimed he was wrapping up anyway, since it was almost dinner time.
Dinner passed quietly, but what followed did not.
Returning to his room, Stiles was startled to find a looming figure perched on his windowsill.
"Jesus!" Stiles exclaimed, nearly losing his balance and grabbing the doorframe for support.
It was none other than Derek Hale, regarding him patiently as Stiles tried to calm his racing heart. Derek stood there with his usual emotionless demeanor and undeniable attractiveness—though Stiles would deny noticing the latter.
"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked once he regained his composure.
"I need to talk to you," Derek said casually.
Stiles gestured awkwardly towards his door. "And you couldn’t have used the door like a normal person?"
Derek shrugged. "You were having dinner. I figured I should wait until you were done."
Deciding it was futile to apply logic to werewolf behavior, Stiles set that thought aside and asked Derek what he wanted.
"It's about magic, actually," Derek began. "My mom thinks the protective runes at our house are weak. The druid currently serving us as an emissary doesn't have the skill to strengthen them. You're a spark—you should be able to do it."
Stiles frowned. "So, you want me to replace the runes?"
Derek shook his head. "Erase them and create stronger ones."
"But I'm not sure if I can do that. There are basic runes that even your druid could manage, and then there are advanced ones that require experience," Stiles explained.
"We know. But you're not a witch; this kind of power is your specialty. Mom believes you're the best person for the job," Derek argued.
After a moment of consideration, Stiles relented. "Okay. I'll meet you after school tomorrow. Bring whatever you need; we won't stop by your house—we're going straight to mine."
"Okay," Stiles confirmed.
Derek nodded and then gracefully leaped out of the window.
"Well, goodbye to you too, I guess," Stiles muttered, closing the window behind him.
**
The more Stiles thought about the fact that he was officially invited to the Hale mansion, by Alpha Hale herself no less, the more excited he became. His morning rushed by in a blur as he found himself lost in thought, forgetting his usual smart-ass remarks in class.
When Derek pulled up in the Camaro, Stiles almost lingered there, taking in the realization that he was about to ride in that beautiful car. He waved goodbye to Scott and hurried over.
Derek greeted him briefly, and then the car ride was mostly silent except for the background music from the radio.
The Hale house exceeded Stiles' expectations. No description could adequately prepare him for its stunning architecture. The massive building appeared divided into three distinct parts from the outside, which made sense given that the entire Hale pack resided under one roof.
"Pick your chin up from the floor on your way out," Derek quipped as he exited the car.
"Rude," Stiles muttered under his breath, but he composed himself and followed Derek.
The front door swung open before they reached it, revealing Talia Hale herself. The Alpha exuded power and strength, yet also gave off a maternal warmth with her kind smile.
"Stiles," she greeted with her soft yet firm voice. "We've been expecting you. Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for having me," Stiles replied politely.
Talia beamed at him and gently brushed his cheek. "Aren’t you adorable?" she asked rhetorically. "You look just like your mother." With that, she stepped aside to usher them inside.
The interior of the house surpassed even the grandeur of its exterior. Stiles moved cautiously through the hall, afraid he might accidentally break something priceless.
Talia gestured towards the couch as they entered the living room through a wide archway. Stiles sat down rigidly, accepting Talia’s offer of a drink, and observed as Derek intercepted a child who rushed into the room with excitement, lifting her up and tickling her tummy, eliciting giggles.
Lost in thought while watching Derek interact with his young family member, Stiles almost missed Talia sitting next to him with his coffee.
"I believe Derek has filled you in on the task we'd like you to handle," she said, handing him the mug. Stiles nodded, taking a sip.
"There’s no rush. Finish your drink, and then we can head out to examine the old runes," Talia continued, leaning back. "In the meantime, tell me about yourself."
"About myself?" Stiles echoed, slightly caught off guard.
"Yes. I've heard a few things about you, but I'd like to hear from you directly. Tell me something about your magic," Talia prompted gently.
"Uh... I discovered I inherited my mom’s powers when I was ten. It was an accident, really. Scott got attacked at school by a bully, spraining his ankle and triggering a bad asthma attack. I panicked and instinctively healed him myself," Stiles explained with a sigh. "Mom was thrilled, but Dad was terrified of raising a kid with not just ADHD but also magic. Mom used to train me, but after she passed away, I relied on her journals for guidance."
Talia's gaze softened even further at his words. "I'm sorry. It must have felt like you were alone in that," she said, placing a comforting hand gently on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring rub. "It's a terrible feeling. I hope you never have to feel that way again. In fact, I'll do my best to ensure you don’t."
Though confused by her promise, Stiles politely averted his gaze and accepted her words.
Talia then shifted the conversation to lighter topics until Stiles had consumed two cookies and finished his coffee. Rising gracefully, she invited him to follow her outside.
The Hales had been right about the runes. As soon as Stiles tapped into his magic, he sensed their weakness. The protection they offered was minimal—so weak that even a novice witch could override them.
With a resigned sigh, Stiles got to work.
**
It took him a little more than an hour to finish. Not that he realized it—the thing about being a Spark was that whenever he had a difficult task, he couldn't focus on anything other than his 'mission'. He essentially got in the zone.
So that was what he assumed had happened when he returned his focus to his surroundings. He found himself sitting cross-legged on the ground, one hand on the dirt to feel the earth, and the other hovering in mid-air as he attempted to channel the desired energy.
He let his hand fall and turned his attention to the various Hales staring at him.
One of the aspects he hated most about his Spark was how it made him appear. He detested looking so detached and consumed only by the task at hand. That was why he rarely used much magic on a daily basis. Whenever he needed to attend to a matter requiring deep focus, it made him seem clinical and unemotional. He despised the way people looked at him when he snapped out of it.
He particularly disliked the way the Hale family was gazing at him in that moment, as though he were a scientific specimen. He loathed the mixture of awe, fascination, fear, amusement, and curiosity in their eyes.
Shifting uncomfortably, he let his hands rest on his lap and drew his shoulders in, trying to make himself appear smaller.
Talia seemed to sense he was finished with the magic, because she moved towards him. Kneeling down beside him, she placed a comforting hand on his neck and looked at him with soft, maternal concern that tugged at Stiles’s heart.
"Are you okay, honey?" she asked gently.
Stiles cleared his throat and glanced away. "Yeah, just tired."
Talia nodded understandingly. "Okay," she murmured, rubbing his neck soothingly. "I assume you're all done. Why don’t we head inside? Cora was just telling me that Laura and Derek are going to watch a movie with her. Maybe you should join them. How does that sound?"
"Okay," Stiles agreed quietly.
Talia smiled warmly again and helped him to his feet. "Come on, I'll show you the bathroom so you can wash your hands and change. Derek will lend you a new pair of pants while I wash yours."
"Mrs. Hale, you don't have to. It's really not a big deal if I just go home," Stiles protested weakly.
"Hey, none of that, young man!" Talia interrupted firmly. "I'm not letting you walk back to your house like that. You're obviously tired and dirty. I'm not letting you go until you're fed, clean, and ready for bed." With that, she led the way back to the house, leaving Stiles no option but to follow.
**
I apologize if my previous responses seemed confusing or inappropriate. Let's continue from where we left off in your story:
That's how Stiles ended up spending the night at the Hales'. Talia insisted it was late and convinced Stiles's dad to let him stay over.
After an hour of studying with Cora, Talia decided Stiles would sleep in Derek’s room. With all the guest rooms full of her husband’s pack members, it was the only option available.
So there he was, not only staying the night at the Hales' but in Derek’s room, on a pop-up bed.
Derek didn’t seem bothered or excited by Stiles's presence. He simply gave him some clothes and invited him to join a video gaming session.
The only downside? Derek slept in his boxers. His boxers. Which meant he was almost completely naked in front of a healthy poor teenage boy who might have already a teeny tiny little crush on him.
It was horrible. Okay, it wasn’t horrible it was absolutely amazing, yet terrifying, since he had to constantly suppress any thoughts that might lead to arousal, knowing from Scott that werewolves could smell such things.
And God forgive the moment Stiles slips up and Derek scents the pungent aroma of his lust.
Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, Stiles watched as Derek turned off the light. “Night, Stiles,” Derek said casually.
A small smile crept onto Stiles's face at the words as he returned the sentiment. “Good night, Derek.”
**
The shift in Stiles's relationship with the Hale pack since that night was subtle, but Stiles always noticed the little things. Cora started waving to him whenever she saw him, and then it escalated to her joining him in the cafeteria and walking with him around school. Derek stopped looking at him weirdly and instead gazed at him with a newfound affection. Laura began giving him snacks whenever she passed by the school to drop off snacks for Cora, Scott, and her younger cousins at the middle school. Talia always stopped to engage him in conversation whenever she saw him outside.
These changes developed over a span of two months. Stiles wasn't sure what it meant, but he welcomed it anyway. He loved the feeling of belonging. He cherished Talia’s affection, Laura’s older sister vibe, and Cora’s playfulness. Most of all, he loved how Derek had opened up to him, allowing their relationship to blossom into a genuine friendship.
If he was honest with himself, he would have preferred if they were more than just friends. He would absolutely love it if they were something more, but that wasn't the case. Derek didn’t see him that way, and that was okay. Stiles was willing to accept any kind of interaction with Derek, even if it wasn't romantic or sexual. He wasn’t going to ruin their perfectly blooming friendship!
However, he found himself flirting with Derek a lot. Normally, he was suggestive and flirty 24/7, but with Derek, it was like everything he said was an innuendo. Derek seemed to laugh off all of Stiles's aborted pickup lines, as if he thought Stiles was joking. To be fair, Stiles was playful whenever he hit on Derek, so the misconception was to be expected.
The shift in Stiles's relationship with the Hales also caused a shift in Stiles's behavior. He went out more and kept a journal of all the things he found worth remembering about werewolves. He sometimes forgot his chores due to being out more often and, most importantly, he practiced magic more. Being friends with other supernatural creatures made him want to embrace his magical side even more.
So, it was a bad day when the Sheriff snapped. He had just gotten home after a double shift when he saw Stiles on the floor in front of the couch, writing something down. John took in the untidy house, from the empty dishes to the scattered paper around the living room.
"Stiles?" he called once, but his son was so deep in his own world that he didn’t pay him any attention. "Stiles!" he called again, but still no sign of him listening. The Sheriff sighed. "Mieczyslaw!" he yelled much more firmly.
Stiles jumped at the sound of his full name being called and finally turned his attention to his tired and angry father. "You're home early," he said with a perplexed expression.
"No, you are the one up late. It is after midnight," John said sternly.
"Oh," Stiles said. "I didn’t realize the spell would take so long, but look, Dad, it’s almost done! This spell is supposed to give me werewolf senses for an hour. How cool is that?"
"Stiles!" The Sheriff cut in before he could go on. "This is the fifth time you have neglected your chores."
Stiles looked around in confusion. "Oh, right. I was out with Cora, Scott, and Derek, and when I got home, I got so focused on the spell that I forgot."
"You forgot? Do I forget to go to work? Do I forget to go grocery shopping?" John asked seriously. "You can’t just forget. Since Scott got bitten, you are going over the top with everything! You go out so much that I am not sure if I need to worry about your grades or your chores. You make a habit of ignoring what I tell you."
"But, Dad, I—"
"I don’t want any excuses! Since Scott got bitten, you have been obsessed with them, doing research all night, talking about it all day." When Stiles tried to protest again, the Sheriff motioned for him to stop. "Your school called me today because the teachers complain you talk about werewolves too much. Stiles, you are a senior now. That behavior is not okay."
"I am sorry, Dad, but—" Stiles tried anxiously to respond.
"For the love of God, you know what? Fuck werewolves!"
"Well, good news, I am already trying!" Stiles yelled sarcastically.
His sarcastic remark made the Sheriff pause. He sighed and pinched the skin between his eyebrows. "Son, I thought you were over that phase. Now you go from obsessing over a banshee to obsessing over a werewolf?"
"It’s not like that!" Stiles yelled defensively.
"Is it not?" John remarked, crossing his arms.
"No. Lydia was the perfect obsession for my young teenage self that wanted to fixate on something ideal, over something normal. Derek is my friend. I respect him and I don’t treat him like a sex fantasy. It is nothing like what I thought I felt for Lydia." Stiles asserted firmly, daring his father to claim otherwise.
"Fine," his dad said, relaxing his tense muscles. "Do you really feel that strongly for the Hale kid?"
The question seemed to make Stiles deflate. "Yeah. I think so."
The Sheriff nodded. "Okay," he said, finally taking off his shoes. "I am going to bed now. I expect you to be up to date with your chores when I get home from work tomorrow."
"Okay, Dad. Good night," Stiles said, and he too headed upstairs.
**
It was a week later that Derek came by the school to pick Scott and Cora up for another pack meeting. Scott paused talking about his plans with Allison on Valentine’s Day, and Stiles watched in regret as his friends followed Derek wordlessly.
“I guess I’ll see you later, guys,” he said half-heartedly.
His comment made them pause and turn around. The three of them shot him looks of various levels of confusion, something that made Stiles baffled himself.
“Get to the car,” Derek ordered the two teenagers and motioned for Stiles to walk with him. Stiles followed in silence, completely unsure of what was going on. “Mom is starting to think you are rejecting her.”
Stiles choked and made an aborting move. “Rejecting her? I didn’t realize—I mean, she is married and—”
Derek slapped the back of his neck to effectively stop his word vomit. “I didn’t mean it like that, you idiot. I meant rejecting her as an Alpha.”
“Oh,” Stiles realized, blushing. “And why would she think that?”
Derek stopped walking to look at him seriously. “You have skipped the past three pack meetings, and you didn’t show up last Saturday.” Last Saturday referring to the full moon, Stiles registered.
He couldn’t register, though, what Derek was talking about. “Why would I come to pack meetings? Aren’t those strictly for pack?”
Derek frowned at his words. “What are you talking about? You are ‘strictly pack.’”
It was Stiles’s turn to frown. “Wait, back up a little. Since when am I pack?”
Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Stiles, how about all the times Mom scent-marked you, or the times you slept with us in the pack room. Do any of these ring a bell?”
Stiles almost replied in a rush, but then he paused to actually consider Derek’s words. Well... when he puts it like that… “Okay, for how long exactly have I been oblivious?”
Derek smirked. “About the pack thing? Because I have a feeling you have been oblivious to other things too.” That earned him a punch to his chest that hurt Stiles’s knuckles more than anything. “A month or two.”
“Wow,” was all Stiles could say as he stared over Derek’s shoulder in confusion.
Derek shook his head. “Okay, dumbass. How about we join the pack meeting now?”
Stiles snapped back at the comment and smiled. “Okay.”
**
Stiles Stilinski was a member of the Hale pack.
Stiles Stilinski was a member of the Hale pack. For more than a month!
The information still felt new and raw after attending the pack meeting.
Stiles would positively be thinking about it for the rest of the day. Even in the car ride with Derek, he stared forth in silence, a fact that was apparently making Derek uneasy.
“Why are you still freaking out about it?” he asked only three minutes after they got in the car.
“Wouldn’t you?” Stiles asked, refocusing. “I didn’t know I was pack. How can someone miss that?”
Derek shrugged. “It doesn’t surprise me, you tend to be oblivious and naïve sometimes.”
Stiles snorted and barked a laugh. “So I am the oblivious and naïve now?”
Derek looked over at him with a frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Stiles huffed and looked away. “Nothing.”
“What am I oblivious about?” Derek pressed.
“Nothing.” Stiles repeated casually, heart speeding up and internally beating himself for even bringing this up.
“Stiles.” Derek warned.
“I told you it’s nothing, let it go.” Stiles brushed him off.
“You can’t just imply something, it is unfair, I call you an idiot to your face.” Derek countered.
Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “Is that supposed to make me feel guilty? Because it has the opposite effect.”
“Just tell me, damnit!” Derek said in frustration.
“It is not your business.” Stiles said firmly.
Derek scowled harder. “Are you listening to yourself? Barely a minute ago, you implied it was my business.”
“Now I imply it isn’t.”
“God, you are so annoying!” Derek exclaimed as he rubbed a hand over his face.
Stiles smirked, feeling more comfortable now that he could dodge the previous subject. “Old news, buddy, you knew that before you befriended me. The correct question would be why you put up with me.”
“I am currently doubting my ability to put up with you.”
“Ah, that is the nicest thing you can say to your beloved friend. Seriously, you’ve got to try harder.” Stiles mocked hurt.
Derek went back to being confused then. “Try harder?”
“Yeah, this is not a way to keep a friend, it is a way to drive them away.” Stiles explained with a demonstration of walking away with his fingers.
Derek gave him a side look. “I see what you are doing.”
Stiles’s heart sped up again. “And what is that?”
“Avoiding. Whatever has you worked up enough to make you avoid it completely is big, and it concerns me. I want to know what it is. No matter what I did, I am sorry, just tell me, please.” Derek replied, obviously proud of his deduction, but also sincere about his apology.
“But you didn’t do anything; that is the whole point!” Stiles yelled.
“Anything about what?” Derek asked. “Stiles.” He warned when he got no reply. He pulled to the side then and turned his attention to Stiles. “I am not driving until you talk. Just spit it out already!”
Stiles let a frustrated groan. “Okay, fine! I like you, like really really like you, really really much, and you don’t even seem to notice and it is bothering me! Because you are not uncomfortable with my flirting, but you aren’t rejecting it either, and you act like my friend and I have had a crush on you for a while, and it is doing things to me! And Scott is taking Allison to the Valentine’s party in three days and I am still here alone, and Valentine’s never felt like that before because I am pretty sure I am in love with you!” he said in a rush, so fast that it could be one long word.
Derek seemed to be taking a moment to register the new information. A fact that made Stiles even more nervous than he was before.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t… you could just…” he said looking away. “Maybe I could walk home, it is not far from here. I can get the Jeep tomorrow.” Stiles considered and went to open the door.
Derek blinked a few times before he grabbed Stiles’s hand. “Stop,” he said. “Wait.”
Stiles paused and resettled back in his seat so that he was facing Derek anxiously.
“You are right. I was oblivious.” Derek admitted. “I’m sorry, I am used to people flirting with me, and you seemed to be suggestive in every conversation with anyone apart from my parents. I didn’t realize you were doing it purposively.” Stiles didn’t answer as he watched Derek consider his next words, dreading the rejection that was about to come. “I am not good with relationships. Contrary to the gossips that go around the town, I am not. I have only had two girlfriends. Paige and Kate. Paige… she was my first love, but she moved away and moved on—last year was her wedding. And Kate… she was a hunter.” Stiles inhaled sharply at the words. Being a hunter was illegal nowadays; whoever was performing the traditional barbaric act could be in prison for the rest of their life. “She was undercover, as she claimed. She tried to kill my family.” Derek paused again to breathe a little. “I haven’t… I stopped considering dating other people since that, almost three years ago.”
Stiles gently put his hand on Derek’s forearm in reassurance. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you remember.”
Derek shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” He said. “What I am trying to say, is that I didn’t consider having a romantic partner until Scott showed up.” Stiles’s face must have done something because Derek looked mortified. “Not like that! I mean when I saw you.”
Stiles’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Oh,” was all he could manage.
“At first I brushed it off… but then Mom made you pack and I couldn’t ignore it, because if Mom trusted you, then I could. But I didn’t—I didn’t want to do anything about it and I hadn’t realized that you liked me too. I didn’t want to drive you away.” Derek confessed.
Stiles shifted nervously, unsure about the direction of the confession.
Derek seemed to shift too, but opposed to Stiles he shifted and made himself look bigger instead of smaller. “You said you wanted someone for the Valentine’s party. How about we go together?”
A smile graced Stiles’s face and his body lost a considerate amount of tension. “Are you asking me out?”
Derek mirrored Stiles’s smile with a blinding one of his own. “Damn right I am.”
“Oh my god.” Stiles said widening his eyes. “Derek, pinch me, I must be asleep!”
Derek let out a chuckle at that and shook his head.
**
Stiles thought he wouldn’t freak out. But who was he kidding? He knew he would. He knew. He just didn’t want to acknowledge it.
It was Valentine’s Day and he had a date!
He had a date. He had a date!
Time in school passed severely fast, and before he knew it, it was already time to get ready.
At first, he thought about wearing something casual but then he felt like he didn’t want to look too casual on his first date! He wanted this to go well.
So he decided upon the nicest jeans he had; the ones Allison had gotten him for his birthday last year. She said Lydia had been the one to pick them, so he trusted they would look as good on him as Allison made it sound when he put them on. She had specifically said that they hugged his legs perfectly, emphasized his butt, and made him look hot.
So yeah, of course he put that pair on.
For the top, he chose to wear a nice plain white shirt, that he didn’t normally wear because it seemed a little formal and it was a touch smaller than what he normally goes for. He also styled his hair, but not too much, because he had been told that his wild hair should never be on point unless he wanted to look like a douche.
When he was ready and all, he took a picture of himself and sent it to Erica, because boarding school or not, she still was one of his closest friends.
Erica didn’t take long to reply. After reading her enthusiastic approval and restless teasing at the first message, he found himself smiling and losing time chatting away with his old friend.
He was typing a new text when the bell rang.
“Shit.” Stiles muttered and ran down the stairs. His dad was already there leaning next to the kitchen’s doorway with a small smile on his face.
“You look handsome, son. Have fun tonight, but don’t be late. If this goes well, I expect Hale to be here next week for his rightfully deserved interrogation that I, as a responsible father, have to execute.” John said and then widely smirked.
“Dad, no! No interrogations, come on, we talked about this. You promised!” Stiles protested.
The Sheriff shrugged. “I promised to not interrogate him today. And I am not, I am just standing here, telling my son to have fun at the party.”
Stiles let an exaggerated groan. “Bye, Dad!” he said and opened the front door to see Derek there looking hot, happy, and fearful all at once.
Honestly, he just looked happy and fearful; hot was his constant appearance.
And damn did he look extra nice that day. Similar to Stiles, he was not dressed formally, but not casual either. He wore one of those black skinny jeans he always wears, but paired with a black button-up.
Stiles was unsure about what made Derek look extra astounding, but the truth was, he looked amazing. Not to mention that he was holding a single rose.
Which sounds cheesy and cliché, and it is, but Stiles is secretly a sucker for cheesy and cliché.
“Hey,” Stiles said with a soft smile.
“Hi.” Derek replied back and offered the rose he was holding, which Stiles accepted gratefully.
The moment was broken, though, due to his dad who peeked over Stiles’s shoulder. “Stop staring at each other, you are already late for the party.” He said and shut the door.
Stiles blushed at his dad’s remark and Derek chuckled.
“He is right, let’s go.” He said and took Stiles’s free hand to guide him to the car.
**
Suffice to say, Derek got interrogated the following week. And he was attending Sunday meals for the weeks to follow.
Forever always felt like a big word to Stiles, and he didn’t know how long Derek and he would be together, or how long or short their lives were to be.
But right then, when he watched his dad interact with Derek on his graduation day, something in his gut was telling him forever.