Chapter Text
Compared to California, Hawaii’s weather was amazing, at least according to him and his dad. Also, to highlight even more, they were closer to the beach than they’ve ever been, which meant they could go swimming at any time, besides dusk, that is.
About two weeks into the well-deserved vacation, his dad announced that he was heading back, as he “had a duty to uphold”. Although a little upset his dad couldn’t stay longer, he was equally glad that he became scot-free of all Beacon Hills responsibilities, no matter how terrible that sounded.
Danny’s Aunt, Maddie as she insisted, had absolutely no problem with Stiles spending the rest of the summer with her. She admitted that it was nice to have someone besides her and her husband in the house, and she went as far as convincing the local music shop owner to give Stiles a part-time job that wasn’t being offered.
After he started working at the music shop job, Stiles had an easier time relaxing and opening up to the inhabitants. Eventually he joined a well-established friend group and they, mostly Keanu, taught him how to surf. At first he denied all aspects of learning due to his insane lack of balance and the need of a certain level of concentration. But after a day of watching the others have fun, and getting bored of cheering them on by himself, he gave in. Keanu started him out on land by laying down a board and showed him where to position his feet. Once he figured that out, Keanu’s girlfriend, Akela, helped him with balance by setting up a fallen log and telling him to walk across it. At some point she, the other two guys, Mason and Brad, and the other girl, Haukea, started moving the log back and forth gently so he could get used to being under something that’s moving.
The first time Stiles got out onto the Pacific Ocean, he completely wiped out, before he even stood up. By the end of that day though, he was able to stand up for a few minutes. In celebration, the group went cliff diving, which Stiles will never forget.
When he had gotten home that night, his cheeks hurt, and Maddie commented that he seemed so much happier than he had been when he had arrived and she was extremely glad. Stiles had nodded and agreed, because for the first time in a while, he truly was relaxed. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to stress about, nothing to anticipate. Nightmares were increasingly rare, and sleep became easier.
Now countless amounts of footsteps passed, some in a hurry and others taking their time. Among those echoed his own footsteps which came to a sudden halt, as if another step wasn’t physically possible. Stiles breathed in deeply, smiling wildly at the small group of people just a few feet in front of him.
And then his feet unfroze, and he ran, dropping his bag just before stopping right in front of them.
“Hey, Dad…”
“Son.” With a wide grin, his father hugged him, nearly suffocating him with a tight squeeze. Next up was Scott, who knocked the two of them on the ground with his enthusiasm. Laughing, Stiles patted Scott on the back. “Scotty, my man, let me up, you great big lug.” Smiling, Scott jumped off of him and pulled Stilesup after him. “Dude, you’re so tan.”
Stiles brushed off the back of his pants from any potentially embarrassing dirt marks. “Hey, Lydia.” The strawberry blonde lightly smiled at him before rushing into his arms. With a small ‘oof’ sound, Stiles wrapped his arms around her. “I missed you, too,” he whispered into her ear before pulling away.
Letting out a sigh, Stiles let tension run out of his shoulders. “So...curly fries for lunch?” he questioned with hope shining in his eyes, causing his dad to burst into laughter.
“How’d I know? Come on.” His dad motioned with his head, grabbing one of Stiles’s suitcase. “I have a table reserved at ‘Yours Truly’. And you guys can come, too.” Scott whooped and flung an arm across Stiles’s shoulders, who just laughed.
“Curly fries, here I come!” he said gleefully, definitely ready for his all-time favorite food.
“I call shotgun!” Lydia claimed, or more like demanded, which got another set of laughs going.
“I get handgun!” Stiles imitated her the best he could, which got him a punch in his shoulder.
After a very lengthy lunch, drawn out from Stiles catching up and sharing stories, Lydia kissed him on the cheek and left, blushing profusely after saying she had promised Jackson she would sleep over since his parents weren't home. Scott volunteered to help him unpack, but said that he was later meeting up with Kira, since they were going to try dinner with her parents again after it had epically failed the first time. Happily, Stiles agreed and said that having someone to be a servant wouldn’t be bad, even if it was only for a short time. This resulted in yet another punch to his shoulder.
They ended up doing very little unpacking. The two of them got distracted by the video games neither had been able to play together for three months. At some point amidst their yelling, Stiles’s dad came in and told them to settle down because the neighbors had called and complained. A few minutes after that, Scott had received a text and bowed out with the promise that he’d be back tomorrow and just the two of them wouldl hang out.
After he finally turned off his Xbox, Stiles set up some music and actually started to put his things away. When he was a third of the way through though, his stomach grumbled and, glancing at the time, he decided it was definitely time for dinner.
Laughing, Stiles closed the refrigerator door that he’d opened upon sliding into the kitchen. “Forget I was home?” His dad, looking a little shocked, turned around and pointed at the now-closed door.
“I-” A grimace or realization came to his face, and he lowered his finger. “Oops?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go out and get something for me, and I’ll stop by the store after school Monday for actual food. No more take-out!” Stiles teased, grabbing the keys off the hook. “I’ll be right back." He salted and then sing-songed his way out of the house.
Stiles turned on the radio and started humming along as soon as his jeep was started. Once on the road, he took a left, and then a right before pulling into the gas station. By then, he was singing loudly along with the recent pop song.
Shutting off the engine also killed his singing, so Stiles mouthed the rest of the words to the song. Out of the corner of his eye though, pausing his lip movement, a jet black camaro stood out. How could he have not noticed that before he parked?
He ignored the obvious foreshadowing, scoffing at the chances, and practically skipped inside, continuing to hum the rest of the song. He didn’t look around, not wanting to see if he was there, and he would’ve greeted the cashier but he didn’t recognize the guy. So, pacing himself, Stiles grabbed a basket and started in the snacks area, going straight for some beef jerky. Stiles became absorbed in selecting various foods and by the time he returned to the front again, Stiles was carrying a 12-pack of Mountain Dew and his basket was half-full.
Starting to hum another song, Stiles tapped his foot to the supposed beat while he waited in line. The person who managed to get in front of him set his stuff down in a hesitant manner, and Stiles would normally be curious but he couldn’t care less since he had successfully managed to not bump into Derek.
He couldn’t have thought that soon enough as the man in front of him turned around to reveal, well...Stiles refrained from having a coughing fit.
Derek hadn’t changed much. He still had his usual stubble and his jaw-line was as well-defined and perfect as always. His green eyes were still full of the same vibrant life as when Stiles had left. Maybe the only thing that had changed was his clothing, which was definitely not his trademark leather, but instead a pair of sweatpants and a wife-beater. Before Stiles could even think of talking, Derek was turning back to get his receipt.
Tracing Derek’s every move, Stiles watched as the man walked away. Yet just before he closed the grocery store door, Derek sent a soft, knowing smile Stile’s way, as if he had known Stiles was watching him. Flushing, Stiles set his items on the store counter and paid for everything as quickly as he could. As he stepped outside, Stiles noticed the Camaro was already gone, and a feeling of relief came over him. Then Stiles walked over to the jeep and just as he started to open the door, a piece of bright green paper between his windshield wipers caught his attention. Setting down the Mountain Dew and a few of the bags, Stiles reached over and yanked it from its hiding spot. In neat, all capital letters it read,
Welcome home. -D
Stiles, no matter how many times he'd deny it, dropped the bag of beef jerky he had held onto, and just stared. His body became unfrozen after a few minutes and, calmly, he put the note into his jean pockets before he picked up the food. "Stupid sourwolf." Stiles shook his head as he loaded everything into the jeep and started her up. Glancing around the dusk-lit town, Stiles sighed and spread his fingers out of the jeep’s steering wheel. "It's good to be back."