It was ridiculous, really. They shouldn’t even be here, but Scott insisted that someone had to reach out to the packs in the mountains and Derek was known in the supernatural community already: the Hale name still carried some weight and Scott wanted to use it to get them contacts in his ongoing quest to unite the supernatural community. Stiles just happened to be the closest one to Beacon Hills to make the drive with Derek.
Still, they shouldn’t have been here during a snowstorm, but they still got caught in it on their way there. Everything would’ve been okay if they’d brought Stiles' car that was designed for the rough terrain, not Derek’s camaro that didn’t even have tire chains in the trunk.
“This wouldn’t have happened if we’d—”
“I swear, Stiles, if you bring up the jeep again, I am going to leave you by the side of the road.”
Stiles didn’t point out that they were currently sitting on their asses by the side of said road after sliding down for a good few yards. When Derek had slammed the brakes, his car sputtered under them, leaving them in silence, waiting for something to happen —Stiles didn’t know what.
After the silence became too much, Stiles chimed in again. “Are we going to stay here until it ends?”
“We can’t. You’ll freeze to death. There was an inn a few miles back, but we’ll have to leave the car.”
“You want to leave your precious car here?” asked Stiles, incredulous. He knew how much Derek’s car meant to him, no matter how much shit Stiles gave him about it.
“We should get going before it gets worse,” he said, closing the zipper of his leather jacket.
Stiles became aware that he was definitely not dressed for the snowstorm. At least Derek had his werewolf powers to keep him warm. What did Stiles have? He barely had a light jacket with him and his usual jeans and sneakers combo.
Derek checked the glove compartment, got his wallet and got out of the car, leaving Stiles in there to gather himself. Stiles got his backpack from the back and turned to Derek. “Okay, so where are we going?”
They started walking down the path, Stiles just a step behind Derek. He shoved his hands on his pockets and followed, knowing that the werewolf could probably get them back to civilization easier than Stiles.
That was a thing they did now: trusting each other. They had been through so many rodeos together that it was easy to lose count on who had saved who over the years. Stiles would even dare to say they were friends, now that Stiles was halfway through college and a lot of his high school growing pains had passed.
Derek was still a bit of a mystery to Stiles though, maybe he would always be. He felt like he knew he man most of the time, then he’d do something crazy like come down all the way to campus for Stiles’ birthday so he wouldn’t spend it alone, or the times he’d show up at Stiles’ house when he was on break and most, if not all, of the pack wasn’t around to hang out. Stiles would write them off as one-time favors, but they’d been a constant for the past year. Sometimes he felt he spent more time with Derek than with Scott, his life long best friend.
He was so lost in his head that he didn’t notice where he stepped and slipped on the icy terrain, falling to the side of the road, then rolling down the hill for a stretch of it, stopping only when his body —and his head— hit a tree trunk. Weirdly, Stiles’ thought as he fell was I can’t believe it took this long for this.
“Stiles!” he heard Derek call.
Stiles took stock of himself. Besides his throbbing head, all he could feel was pain shooting from his left ankle where he probably twisted it. “Over here,” Stiles yelled.
Less than a minute later, Derek was down there with him, partially shifted. Stiles stared at him from the floor.
“I fell.”
“I noticed.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Derek sighed and held a hand out for him. Stiles took it without thinking twice about it, grateful for the help and Derek’s warm touch.
Derek frowned at him —his nose scrunching up in a gesture that Stiles would have called adorable if he wanted to be left by the side of the road—, “are you bleeding?”
Stiles didn’t think so, but he touched the back of his head where he hit the tree. His fingers came back stained with his own blood.
“Let me see that,” said Derek.
“It’s okay, I’m fine.”
“You’re clearly not. Just let me— don’t be an idiot, Stiles.” Stiles turned slightly, giving Derek access to the back of his neck. The man took off his jacket, then his t-shirt and gave it to Stiles. “Press that down.”
Stiles tried not to stare at Derek as he put his jacket back on —it was always a treat to see Derek shirtless for reasons Stiles didn’t see fit disclosing with the man—, but he was pretty sure he failed when Derek smirked at him.
He pressed the t-shirt to the back of his head and looked up to the road he just rolled over from. “So… how long until we get to that inn you mentioned?”
“Not long. Probably 15 minutes walking.”
Stiles shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His left ankle hurt, but it was probably just a twisted ankle, nothing to worry about. “I might need you to help me up there?”
Derek only raised an eyebrow, but then he turned around. “Opposed to a piggy back ride?”
Stiles sighed and jumped on Derek’s back, his thighs wrapping around the man’s waist to hold on tight.
They went back up to the road like that, Stiles trying to think of any other time where he’d been this close to the werewolf without being paralyzed from the neck down. He guessed there were other times where Derek carried Stiles, so he’s not surprised when instead of letting him down when they get back on the road, Derek just grabbed his thighs and adjusted Stiles on his back.
“Please hold on to me. I’m not picking you up again,” he said, but there was no heat in it.
“Just let me down, I can walk the rest of the way.”
“Didn’t you twist your ankle on the way down?”
“I never said that!”
“I noticed.”
Stiles’ hands went to hold on to Derek’s shoulders, but Derek made it a point of not walking until both of Stiles’ hands were intertwined in front of him. It was funny until it wasn’t. Now he’d spend the whole way to the inn thinking about Derek’s gentle kindness and undying loyalty, even to Stiles who was the one who made it the most difficult for him.
True to his word, it didn’t take them long to get to the inn. It was a small place, clearly not designed to attract hundreds of clients, but to cater to a few of them as best as they could. Derek put him down when they arrived and they went into the reception together, Stiles limping slightly behind Derek.
A big welcome sign hung from the ceiling at the back of the check in desk, where an old lady sat in front of a small, old fashioned tv. At their approach, she stood with a frown, “my goodness, I didn’t expect anyone else until after the storm passed.”
Derek smiled at her, the smile that he put on when he was trying to be approachable. It unnerved Stiles, who had seen his real smile and knew it was nothing like his people-pleasing smile. “Our car broke down a few miles up, do you happen to have any rooms available?”
The lady turned to the wall next to her and glanced at a cabinet where only two keys remained. Stiles sighed in relief, at least he wouldn’t have to share the room with Derek.
“Well, the big suite is being serviced, but you can have the blue room,” the woman said. Stiles tensed back again. He couldn’t do close quarters with Derek, that’d only add to the mess in his head about the man.
“Yeah, we’ll take anything,” Derek said, getting out his wallet.
The woman smiled, reaching for the keys. “I’ll just need an ID to sign you under.”
Once she made them sign the guest book —an honest to god, leatherbound thing that seemed to hold the name of every person who ever stayed there— she told them, “it’s right down the hallway. Last door to the left.”
Derek walked in front of Stiles, hurrying down the hallway while Stiles limped behind Derek until he reached the door. He noticed Derek hesitating for a moment before opening the door, but he didn’t comment on it.
When they were inside, though, Stiles immediately noticed something off.
There was only one big bed.
Stiles would have laughed if it wasn’t so damn awkward.
“You can sleep on the bed,” said Derek, taking off his jacket to hang it on the one chair by the small table next to the window. He went to close the curtains then to the bathroom as if nothing was wrong.
Well, maybe to Derek it wasn’t.
To Stiles? He was trying to come up with an excuse to go tell the front desk lady to give him the room being serviced, even if it meant waiting outside in the snow until it was done.
Why was he so worried about spending time alone with Derek? It’s not like it hadn’t happened before. They were literally on a road trip alone. Why was Stiles’ heart hammering against his chest like a hummingbird had made a nest inside his ribcage?
A few minutes later, Derek came out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry, still shirtless because he literally gave Stiles the shirt off his back when he was bleeding. “You can shower if you want, there’s hot water and there’s towels on the counter.”
Warmth spread through his chest at Derek’s gentle words. There was no snark behind them, just pure concern.
“Sure, I’ll just…” he waved a hand around as if to explain his train of thought, then went to the bathroom.
He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, the cold wood a relief against his headache, but there was no relief for the feelings bubbling under his skin.
Stiles quickly washed up, trying to think of anything except Derek taking a quick shower of his own in the exact same place. He could not leave the bathroom with a boner. That would be beyond embarrassing, deep into humiliation territory. He was so worried by that thought, that it didn’t occur to him until he was leaving the bathroom that it was not the usual thoughts one had about friends.
Once he went back to the room, Derek was sitting on the bed with his back to Stiles, furiously tapping on his phone.
“Everything okay?” asked Stiles.
“Yeah, I was just…” but he didn’t finish the sentence, throwing his phone on the bed. Stiles found out that he didn’t care, he just wanted to lay down for a while and forget the thoughts that were gnawing at him regarding Derek.
He got inside the bed, looking at Derek’s tattoo on his tense back.
“Derek, will you just get in the bed and sleep?”
Derek huffed a laugh. “I thought you’d say it was too early to sleep.”
“I just hit my head against a tree, I’m going to sleep off this headache.”
Derek turned to him and frowned. “Maybe you shouldn’t sleep yet. What if you have a concussion?”
“Well, I didn’t throw up this time, at least,” he said, going for a joke, referencing another time when Stiles had hit his head about a year ago.
“Not funny,” Derek grumbled.
Stiles rolled his eyes then turned on his side, turning his back on Derek. “Well, I’m going to sleep anyway. You can stay there scrolling on your phone, or you can get some sleep before we have to figure out how to leave tomorrow.
After a few minutes, Derek sighed and got up. There was rustling of clothes being removed, then he got into bed.
There was enough space between them that they weren’t touching, but Derek’s body heat was enough to warm him up from all sides. Stiles wondered how it would feel to be wrapped in Derek’s arms and his heart sped up. He wanted to be wrapped up by Derek’s arms and be held until he drifted off to sleep.
No, no, no. That was not a thought to have with said werewolf in bed with him.
With a grunt, Derek said, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lied.
“You know, your heartbeat jumps when you lie.”
“Lie detectors are not really a reliable way to get information, haven’t you listened to me rant about it before?”
“Oh, I have,” it sounded like Derek was smiling. Stiles was dying to see that smile, because it sounded like his real smile, soft and genuine and so beautiful.
Oh.
It hit Stiles like a ton of bricks.
He was crushing. Hard.
Stiles’ heart beat faster at the realization. It all made sense to him now. Why he was so eager to get Derek’s attention, why he was on board with spending as much time with him as possible, why he felt damn butterflies inside of him when Derek smiled the right way.
It felt like a revelation too big to have in the small room and he was sure Derek could smell it on him or something, yet the man didn’t say anything else yet.
“Come on, Stiles, what is it?”
Stiles laid on his back and stared at the ceiling for a while, unable to look in Derek’s direction.
What else could he say? Right now it seemed as if the only thought in his mind was Derek, Derek, Derek, each syllable a stab in his heart because there was no way Derek felt remotely inclined to explore anything that had to do with Stiles.
He was sure the man had already given up by now, so he turned his head to look at Derek and saw him lying on his side, staring right at him.
Stiles found himself at a loss for words for the first time in a long time. He couldn’t exactly form words with Derek’s beautiful face so close to him. Instead, his eyes scanned his face for any clue that could give him hope. Derek’s hazel eyes were boring a hole through his defenses and he was sure every newfound feeling was written on his face plain as day.
Before Stiles could speak, Derek said, “I really want to kiss you right now. And if your heartbeat is anything to go by, you want me to kiss you too.”
Stiles sputtered and turned all the way towards Derek. “You want to what?”
Stiles’ mind quickly ran through all his recent interactions with Derek, everything from pack meetings where they were the only two people left talking about Stiles’ classes back in college, to the endless summer days where stiles would have been alone if it weren’t for Derek and his insistence to come over to hang out.
Put like that, it made perfect sense. This dance they’d been doing for far too long and that was ready to have them collide together on a bed in the middle of God knows where.
“Kiss you, Stiles. Been wanting to for a while now. What’s so hard to believe about that?”
Stiles took a moment to gather his wits about him, then said, “and you didn’t say anything before because…?”
“Because, Stiles, there’s always something going on, there will always be something going on if you stay in Beacon Hills.”
“And where else am I supposed to go? Beacon Hills is my home and I don’t want to leave.”
“What’s going to happen when—”
“I don’t care!” Stiles raised his voice involuntarily. “You have to let me choose that. You have to let me make that choice.”
There was a beat of silence where no one said anything, then Derek’s eyes drifted to Stiles’ mouth, then back to his eyes. “And what are you choosing now?”
“I’m choosing you.”
Stiles leaned in, acutely aware of Derek’s shirtless form right next to him, but there was no time to think, as Derek’s lips met his in a rush. It was a dam breaking and there was no one else but them to witness it.
For all of his hard and serious exterior, Derek’s kiss was exactly as Stiles expected: gentle and warm, slightly hesitant at first, but more confident the longer they kissed and Stiles didn’t pull back.
They kissed for a long time, Stiles’ hands drifting to caress Derek’s arms, his shoulders, the back of his neck, while Derek kissed down the side of his neck with just the right amount of enthusiasm to make Stiles think there would be a mark there in the morning.
By the time they pulled away, Stiles was panting and Derek’s lips were pink and puffy from kissing.
“I almost wish we had gotten stranded in a snowstorm sooner,” Stiles said. “Like five years sooner.”
“You were in high school five years ago,” Derek reminded him.
“Details,” said Stiles. “We would’ve ended up here anyways.”
Derek smiled, one of those lovely smiles that seemed to be reserved only for special moments. Stiles truly hoped that the moment didn’t end once they were back at Beacon Hills.
Something must’ve shown in his face because Derek said, “stop worrying right now. You should probably sleep.”
“Oh no, you were the one who said I shouldn’t sleep with a head injury.”
“What do you propose we do?” asked Derek, a glint of something in his eyes. Stiles loved where this was going.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” he replied.
Stiles definitely knew he wanted to keep going wherever Derek took him. It felt like no matter where they went, they’d end up together in the end.
Later, if they got a noise complaint for being too loud, that was no one else’s business but their own.