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Its not often that Stiles’ voice cracks.
“...but then afterwards we should vote for some qu-ality--” Stiles stops and flushes a bright red before clearing his throat and continuing on, forming his words clearly in the voice he wants it in. “Some quality R&R, doncha think?”
Derek, nodding, rummages in his pocket for a cough drop and passes it to Stiles, who thanks him quietly.
Derek loves Stiles’ nipples, loves pinching them, rolling the pebbled flesh between his fingertips. He loves watching Stiles squirm and buck his hips in the sparks of pleasure.
Stiles doesn’t like his nipples played with too often, sometimes suspicious Derek’s entranced by more than the nipple. In this case, he’ll reach down the curve of Derek’s ass and find the dry pucker willing to open for him, and Derek will forget about Stiles' torso with a gasp. Or at least pay attention to other things.
The first time Derek had a chance to slow down between teaching Scott and running from Argents and cops, he’d turned to Stiles and said, “I had a friend like you. She works at Jungle, now.”
Very cautiously, hesitant, Stiles had replied, “What’s her name?”
“Lushy Lust.”
Stiles and Derek shared a grin, but Lushy did throw Derek a text the next night wondering who the jail bait cutie was dropping Derek’s name.
Stiles remembers cutting his long hair for the first time when he was seven, handing his mother the pair of scissors, and her smiling at him in the mirror.
“What a handsome haircut,” she told him after they were finished. “Its perfect. I think your dad will love it.”
Today, Derek buzzes Stiles’ hair for him as soon as he gets home from his canceled hair appointment, when the hairdresser made an ignorant comment. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, hun… My boyfriend likes my hair long, but that’s just us.”
Stiles stared at her through the mirror, studying her judging expression, before walking out. Now, Stiles looks at the inch-long hair dusting the bathroom counter when Derek is finished. During sex Derek would pull on it sometimes, did it remind him of a woman?
“Stop it,” Derek says suddenly, and Stiles snaps his eyes on him through the mirror. “You should know I don’t care if your hair is short or long.”
When they were six, Scott punched Stiles and called him a liar, but before dinner time Melissa escorted Scott back to the Stilinski residence and made him apologise. Stiles punched him back, angry, and to never call him a liar again because what do you know about how I feel on the inside, huh? You can’t see what I feel.
Scott's been fiercely protective of him since then, from first grade all the way to high school graduation. Out of every friendship Stiles has gained, he'll forever treasure Scott's the most.
Between Sophomore and Junior year, Lydia apologizes for her ignorance in their earlier years. "Between you and me, you're definitely a better man than Jackson." Stiles still invites her over when Jackson moves to London, sitting on his couch with a pint of Ben & Jerry's each, watching 90s cartoons on Netflix.
He takes a year off before college with Scott and Allison, works at the police department with his dad as the emergency dispatcher, saves every last dime he earns. Derek finds him odd jobs around town, from mowing lawns to escorting safe supernatural clients across territories.
Finally, on a cool day in September, Stiles gets done with micromanaging his finances and his heart pounds in part excitement, part nervousness.
He texts to his dad first and foremost:
By this time next year, I'll have enough for top surgery.
He copies the message and sends it to Derek, Scott, Allison and Lydia.
His dad replies back first:
Celebration pizza tonight my treat. Love you son.
Followed by Scott, Lydia, Derek, and Allison in that order:
AWOOGA! Lets do something!! :D
Congratulations, Stiles! I knew you'd get there! Txt if you want research on the surgeons, babe.
I love you.
Come out to lunch with me! We'll get milkshakes!
Derek helps him with his injections when Stiles comes over. Despite taking the shots everyday since the start of his eighteenth birthday, Stiles always feels faint with facing a needle.
When he stays the night with Derek, Stiles wakes up to the gorgeous smell of coffee. As he finally comes downstairs, Derek serves him a steaming mug and starts breakfast while Stiles finds a thought process. Pancakes, this morning. Stiles will eventually set the table, pour a cup of coffee for Derek, and let Derek serve himself first. They sit side-by-side, feet hooking around someone's ankles.
After breakfast and two more cups of coffee, they wash and dry dishes together, Stiles finally beginning his yammering triad of whatever is in his head. Derek will listen quietly, once in a while inputting commentary, then afterwards he'll drag a reluctant Stiles to the bathroom for his daily meds.
While Stiles is distracted by taking his Adderall, Derek quickly and painlessly (werewolf perks were the greatest) sticks him in the thigh. Stiles may mutter darkly, but he knows its a better method than doing it himself.
Allison comes up to him after tryouts, fidgeting hesitantly.
"Can I ask you some quick questions, Stiles? About Scott?"
Stiles grimaces, wondering how to portray any suspicion she may have about Scott's new wolvlihood as 'legal' steroids. "What can I help you with?"
The question throws him for a moment: "Are you Scott's girlfriend?"
Stiles hasn't had to answer this for a long time, especially for the genuine askers. He squares his shoulders and smiles politely. "Allison, right? First, for your personal interest in Scott, we are the best bros ever, nothing romantic at all, no bueno. Second, I am totally not a girl. I may sometimes scream like a girl going down the lacrosse field, but anyone would with Jackson chasing them like he wants your intestines to make into trophies."
"You're--" she starts to say, realisation dawning her expression.
"Third and lastly," he interrupts, "welcome to Beacon Hills."
Allison takes a second before smiling brightly up at him. "I think Jackson would just feed the intestines to the snakes in the Biology classroom."
"True that."
There’s a couple rules to dating Stiles:
“You can’t use the window anymore,” he says, reading it off a piece of paper that has Derek rolling his eyes and stuffing his hand in his pocket. “Except for late night emergencies. Seriously, the window locks at 11pm on a school night.”
“Okay.”
“I do not put out on the first date, second date, third date, and you’ll be lucky to get anything by the eighth date.”
“Okay.”
Stiles narrows his eyes suspiciously at him, but continues on. “I do anniversaries. I do birthdays and Christmas and will probably do Valentine’s, but I’ve hated it too long to know for sure. I’m a gifter, and will probably be extra clingy, but you don’t need to buy me gifts in return.”
Derek nods. “Same.” He doesn’t need stuff, but he knows he’ll be fond and keep anything Stiles gives him due to the sentimental value.
“I am to be addressed as your boyfriend to other people if they ask,” Stiles says. “Correct them if they get it wrong.”
“Of course,” because that’s what he’d be doing, anyway.
“And last but not least, when we fight you are not allowed, at all, to toss up my life choices as if its a hindrance to our relationship. That’s like, immediate break-up right there,” he says before putting down the list, looking at Derek now. “If all is agreed to, and you’re not having regrettable second thoughts, then we can totally start kissing now.”
Derek quickly captures him into a kiss, and five years later, Stiles is still being kissed only by Derek every day, multiple times a day. What can he say? It was a damn easy list.