They had been driving West for about 20 minutes when Lydia ran out of things to say about her time in Stanford. Silence filled the car and Derek felt tempted to break it with something mindless, but before he could speak, Lydia said, “I feel like I’m even boring myself to death. Will you tell me where we’re going already?”
“I like it when you tell me about your life. There’s a lot to catch up on,” he said.
Lydia gaped at him for a moment, then pressed her lips in a line to stop a smile as she blushed. Derek couldn’t imagine being bored of Lydia. This was the second time they were alone since they met and most of their communication had been through texts that week, but they spoke constantly. He now knew Lydia double majored in Physics and Classics, that after she graduated she spent a year travelling around Europe with her friend Allison, that now she was pursuing a PhD in Experimental Astrophysics, that she was fed up with one of her teachers, that she liked strawberry shortcake and red wine, that her favorite color was green, that when she smiled you could hear it in her voice, that she got softer when she was sleepy, that she knew how to change a tire, and that he was genuinely falling in love with her.
The last one felt particularly big, because Derek didn’t do love stories. He was an expert in the art of the one night stand, leaving before any feelings could set in, disappearing afterwards in a cloud of smoke. His sisters thought he was the worst kind of guy. Laura had gone as far as to warn her friends about him, that getting involved with him was a danger to their hearts. (In reality, it was dangerous for those he loved the most. The last time he fell in love didn’t end up so well for his family. It didn’t matter that they didn’t blame him, Derek knew it was his fault. What if he fell in love and the rest of his family died at the hands of a psychopath. He would never forgive himself for that.)
Derek shook his head, looking at the road ahead. It would be different this time. Stiles and Lydia were the real deal, Derek was sure of it. What he felt now was infinitely better than his crush on Kate had been. If this was how crushes on soulmates were supposed to feel… Well, Derek felt particularly grateful for the second chance he got.
“Tell me more about Europe and Allison,” Derek said, trying to distract his thoughts from the dark place they were going.
Lydia followed his lead and talked, telling him about Allison's family in France and getting lost in Florence and their time in a small village in Greece. Derek let Lydia's words wash away all the sorrow brought on by dwelling on the past and focused on the day ahead. Once they got into San Francisco proper, Lydia perked up in her seat. She must have known the general direction of where they were going, but it was clear she was still wondering where Derek would take her.
"First, we need to eat something," he told her. "I thought we could go to this crêperie by the Marina. I've never been to France, so I can't tell you how French they are, but you can be the judge of them."
"First? How many parts does this date have?" Lydia asked curiously.
"As many as you want. Some of us like to have multi-part dates," he shrugged at that, knowing it wasn't exactly something he'd done before, but that he'd always wanted to try. There just never seemed to be any reason to put on the effort before, he knew the people he dated wouldn't stick for long. Derek's therapist would have a lot to say about that.
Lydia smiled at him. "That's adorable. Take me to the crêperie, Derek."
They parked a few blocks out and walked the rest of the way, this time, talking about Derek's life in Beacon Hills.
"So, Cora is the one who works at the bar?" she asked.
"Well, technically it's Laura's bar. She just likes cars, so she works at the auto shop in the mornings. Mind you, not even every day, but she's there often enough that the customers know her. Peter handles most of the admin stuff, I don't think I've ever seen him touch any other car that's not one of his."
"So both of your sisters work at the bar... and Malia too?"
"Yeah. As I said, family business. I've even tended the bar from time to time." Derek felt Lydia's eyes on him at that. "What?"
She hummed appreciatively. "Nothing. I'm just wondering if you look as competent making drinks as you do working on cars."
"Lydia Martin, do you have a competency kink?" he teased.
"Who doesn't?" Lydia replied with a quirk to her mouth.
They arrived at their destination and managed to score a table outside with a beautiful view of the Marina. The air was cool and salty as a breeze ran through them. Derek saw Lydia shiver and immediately offered her his jacket.
"You'll be cold," she argued.
"I ran hotter than most people," Derek said in return.
"Fine, I'll take your jacket," Lydia said, narrowing her eyes. "For now."
They ate and talked about mindless things like music and movies, and Lydia teased him once more for his lack of favorite song. When she asked about the last movie he watched, Derek felt self-conscious.
"What? It can't be that bad," she said in between sips of her juice.
"I asked Stiles about your favorite movie. I watched it last night," he admitted.
"One Day?"
Derek nodded, keeping his eyes on his food. "It's good. Bittersweet, but it's really good."
"So you liked it. Good." Lydia placed a manicured hand on top of his own, making him look at her. "Hopefully you'll like it more than Stiles'."
"I don't think it's fair for your movie to compete against a trilogy," he pointed out. "Unless you want to choose 2 more movies to even things out?"
"Maybe I will." Her piercing, green eyes were focused on him. "That was really sweet of you."
Derek smiled and his eyes went from her face to their joined hands. "I must admit I did it hoping to get alternatives for today, in case this place didn't work out, but I'm glad I watched it."
"It's a book, originally. Maybe you'll like it too."
"Maybe."
They held each other's gaze for a moment, long enough to make him smile. Lydia's face also broke out in a smile and Derek wished he could keep that smile there forever.
Some time after they finished eating, after their waiter had given them more than one meaningful look, Derek said "Wanna walk down the Marina?"
Lydia readily agreed and they got on their way. Derek had reservation for them in a little over two hours, so he took them on a route that eventually took them to Patrick's Park to pass the time. Lydia was happy to follow his lead and indulged him telling him more stories from her trips. Derek didn't have the same variety of stories since the farthest away he'd ever travelled was Mexico, but Lydia seemed entertained with the conversation anyway. They even got to walk around an art installation next to the park, where Derek listened to Lydia talk about her favorite artworks for over an hour.
When there was a lull in their conversation, Lydia asked, "I know you didn't bring me to SanFran only for crêpes and a walk down the park."
"I didn't," he admitted. "We're actually going to our next stop."
"Which is?"
"Wine tasting. If I'd had more time maybe we could've driven to a vineyard." He paused as they turned the corner to another street. Derek knew Lydia caught a glimpse of the sign ahead by the way her eyes widened. "I brought us to the next best thing though."
The place was empty of everyone but the staff and Derek silently hoped Lydia wouldn't find it over the top. It was so over the top though. Derek could admit it to himself at least.
She turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Wine tasting."
"Hey, it's 5 pm somewhere," he said. Then glanced at his wristwatch. "Wait, it's almost 5 pm here."
Lydia shook her head and followed Derek into the restaurant, where a sommelier explained what their experience included. "We'll sample 5 wines that pair well with today's three course dinner. You're welcome to choose a bottle for the dinner itself as well."
When the man turned around to get the first bottle, Lydia turned to Derek. "You don't drink wine."
"I drink wine," he said, more defensive than he should have. "Sometimes."
"You said you'd rather drink a cold beer any day." Derek could hear the air quotes. "What are we doing here?"
"I'm here to learn. You're here to enjoy my learning curve."
Lydia laughed at that. "Derek... I can't wait to tell Stiles about this. He's gonna be sorry he missed your self-imposed torture."
"Clearly I'm not gonna be an expert in wines after one tasting. We can do it the three of us someday. And it's not torture in any way. I get to watch you do something you like, and maybe I will learn something along the way."
Lydia gave him an amused smile then and nodded at the sommelier who waited for their signal to start his explanation about the wine, varietal, winery, and a bunch of information that Derek couldn't keep up with. He listened at Lydia's questions regarding temperature and different food pairings with curiosity, but when the time came to try the wine, he didn't exactly notice half of the things Lydia discussed with the sommelier. It was dark and intense, it reminded Derek of dark chocolate and berries but it didn't taste of chocolate or berries. It just tasted like red wine.
They sampled four more varieties —three of which tasted the same to Derek, but what did he know anyway— while Lydia commented on the wine's body and aroma. Once the tasting ended, they were left to conference about their favorite wine for dinner.
"So, Derek, what did you learn today?" she asked.
"That some of Laura's courses in college were real courses after all."
Lydia huffed a laugh. "I can't wait to meet your sisters, you're painting them as the most interesting people in the world."
Derek grimaced. "Really?"
She gave him a playful shove. "Yes, really. Now tell me, Derek. What wine do you think will pair best with a hotel room with a tub?"
For a moment, he frowned, unsure of why Lydia wanted to leave, then the weight of her words sank in. He quirked an eyebrow at her, ransacking his brain for her favorite wine. It was Italian… bubbly… sweet… just a little bit pretentious… "Brachetto D'Acqui?" he guessed.
Lydia looked him up and down, almost undressing him. Heat rose to his cheeks and his heartbeat picked up, loud in his ears.
"You're about to be the luckiest man in the world, Derek Hale," she said.
Without missing a beat, Derek said "I already am."
“So, where are we going?” Lydia asked as her seatbelt clicked into place.
“It’s a surprise,” Stiles said with a glint in his eye.
“Oh, no. I already did this with Derek.”
“I know, it was my idea,” he admitted with a shy smile. “But you two had fun, didn’t you?”
Lydia had to admit that the day before had been amazing. Derek thought of every detail and made the whole day feel like they’d been together for ages. Thanks to her research, she knew there was magic involved in Soulbonds and she knew some of it was at work in how she perceived spending time with them, but Derek had shown her a good time and Lydia couldn’t wait for another chance to spend the day with him.
But today was Stiles’ turn and Stiles promised her a surprise as well. Lydia didn’t know how impatient she could be until she had two different people trying to surprise her. In the end, she only said “yes, I had fun with Derek. But I’m discovering I’m not very fond of surprises.”
Stiles smiled at that. “Hey, we’re discovering new things together already! This date is off to a great start.”
It was early, Stiles showed up to her door about half an hour ago with coffee, croissants and a red rose. They ate at Lydia’s apartment, talking about their friends Allison and Scott and how disgustingly in love they were. Eventually, Stiles had said they should get going to their first stop, which triggered their conversation about surprises.
“I’m still mystified by the ‘first’ part of the date,” Lydia mentioned as Stiles adjusted his own seatbelt.
“I told you, Lyds. Queer people are known for going on multi-part, day-long dates. I’m not the exception to this rule.”
Lydia thought it was funny how similar it was to something Derek had said the day before, but didn’t bring it up. She wanted today to be about Stiles so she would not dwell on comparisons. They were different people and these would be different experiences.
They got on the road and Stiles chatted about his job at the PSU library and how he got into watching soccer because PSU didn’t have a lacrosse team and about his vacation so far. Lydia had fun listening to him and loved how his face illuminated when Lydia asked a question that showed she was listening.
“So your dad is dating Scott’s mom?” she asked, but it was more to confirm she was following.
“That’s what we’re not sure about,” Stiles said. “My dad keeps hinting at something but Mrs. McCall won't budge. We had dinner together on Thursday and I could’ve sworn there were looks, you know? Allison was there, she thinks she saw something as well, but she can’t be sure.
“It’s not like we’re asking if they’re soulmates!” Stiles waved a hand around, as if his father was right there and Stiles was talking directly at him. “We’ll be happy for them either way!”
“Maybe they like sneaking around,” Lydia suggested.
“Ew, it sounds terrible when you put it like that.” Stiles made a face, but he looked secretly delighted to think of the possibility. Lydia had a feeling he was going to tease his father later.
They took a right on Main Street and Stiles parked the car at the far left end of a strip-mall parking lot.
“A strip mall?” Lydia quirked an eyebrow at Stiles.
“Not really.” He killed the engine and turned to her. “I picked out three different used bookstores around the area, and the idea is that we both go and pick out a book for the other person.”
Lydia’s smile is involuntary, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. “What are the rules?”
“The rules are to be yourself and have fun,” he said, opening the door of his side of the jeep. By the time she opened her side, Stiles was already there, reaching for her hand to help her down. It was extra and they both knew it, but she liked the princess treatment.
Stiles locked his car and offered Lydia his arm. “Lydia.”
“Stiles,” she said, taking it.
The first bookstore was next to the strip mall, so the walk was short and they agreed to meet back at the registers when they were done. They went their separate ways and Lydia saw Stiles disappear into the back, so she assumed he had been at this place at least once. She browsed the different shelves, unsure about what kind of book would Stiles like. Because of his job at the library, he read often and widely that every title she scanned seemed like a good option for the man.
She got a glimpse of Stiles holding two books and comparing them with a little frown on his face before putting both of them down. She didn’t know what book Stiles would pick for her, but from what Lydia had seen of him so far, she knew it would be thoughtful.
After much wandering, her eyes caught a glimpse of a well-loved copy of Notes to John that was left on the wrong shelf by someone who changed their mind. Lydia inspected it, reading the blurb in the back, and decided it was perfect for Stiles. She walked to the registers and waited for Stiles to appear around a shelf just a moment later holding a thick book.
“What did you get?” she asked expectantly.
“This compilation of Alejandra Pizarnik’s diaries. I remembered you mentioned her when I asked you about poetry. I thought it might be interesting…” he trailed off, fidgeting with the book in his hands.
Lydia smiled at him. “It sounds interesting, Stiles. Thanks.”
He gave it to the cashier and then put his hand out to get Lydia’s choice.
“Notes to John. No way!” He laughed. “I’ve been waiting months for this book to be available in the library.”
Lydia felt a tug in her chest that she couldn’t name, but that felt a lot like love. She took in Stiles’ bright eyes, his unabashed smile, and somehow knew he was telling the truth. She averted her eyes when Stiles looked back to her, conscious that she was staring at him.
“This is great, Lyds. Seriously,” he reassured. “So we both got each other some kind of journal. Oh, we can compare notes when we read them!”
After Stiles paid, Stiles carried the bag with the books and offered her his arm again so they walked to the next store. Lydia couldn’t help her eyes going back to Stiles’ face once more. He was handsome and charming, and his smile was as bright as the sun. Why did Lydia never see that before?
“What are you thinking about?” Lydia asked.
“I’m hoping the next store still has a big poetry collection, because it would be cool if I managed to find any of Pizarnik’s poetry there.”
“I’m sure I’ll like whatever you choose,” she said.
In the end, they spent almost half an hour browsing and Stiles got her a poetry collection called Bright Dead Things —since he couldn’t find any of Pizarnik’s, and this was apparently brilliant. Lydia liked the challenge of finding something along those lines and chose poetry as well.
“Rimbaud?” Stiles asked when she passed him the book.
“You said you liked surrealist-style poems,” she said.
“I mentioned that once in a group chat where there have been at least two thousand messages since then,” he said. Lydia had to look away when Stiles gave her that look. It revealed things Lydia wasn’t ready to talk about yet. “This is before the surrealists, though.”
“I know. I have a plan.”
When they got to the third bookstore, Lydia was feeling slightly hungry, but while she browsed in the previous bookstore, she had thought of a very specific book she read in college that Stiles might find entertaining and challenging. Once Stiles set off to one side of the bookstore, Lydia went directly to the Latin American poetry section, and was surprised to find the book she wanted in a bilingual version that was still dog-eared in a page near the middle.
Her Spanish was passable, but she still felt a little lost in the rhymes she saw in front of her. Frustrated that she could only read a page, she walked to the registers thinking that Stiles’ Spanish better be good enough to help her make sense of it.
Stiles’ mouth made a surprised O when he saw Lydia already waiting for him. He grabbed his book and walked decidedly towards her, frowning slightly.
“What happened?” was the first thing he asked.
“How good is your Spanish?”
“Not as good as Derek’s, but I can defend myself. Why?”
“Good,” Lydia said. “Then we’re reading this together.”
She passed him the book and he smiled, “I’d love to. Would you explain this to me?”
He handed her a book called The Disordered Cosmos. Lydia almost laughed at the choice, it was exactly the kind of book she'd pick up for herself before a trip. “A book about space?”
“I thought it’d be fun for the astrophysicist, but I will borrow it as soon as you’re done with it.”
“Not an astrophysicist yet,” Lydia said, giving Stiles a playful shove.
“By definition an astrophysicist is someone who studies astrophysics. Ergo, you are an astrophysicist,” he countered.
They held each other’s eyes for a long time, long enough that someone cleared their throat next to them so they’d hurry up.
“Sorry,” Stiles apologized, rushing to pay for the books, shoving them in their bag.
They returned to the car holding hands, chatting about which book they’d read first.
“Hungry?” Stiles asked when there was a lull in the conversation.
“Starving.”
Stiles drove them downtown, where Lydia got to choose the restaurant —Italian, obviously— and they chatted away a big portion of their meal. She spoke at length about her trip with Allison and Stiles shared anecdotes of that part of the trip from what he knew from Scott. Knowing how much Scott pined during their time away was hilarious, but also endearing. She wondered if Stiles thought of her at all during her trip.
“Lyds?” the question came in the tone of someone who had asked more than once.
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
“Am I boring you?” he asked, self-conscious.
“No, it’s just–” she sighs and starts again. “I was wondering if you ever thought of me. While I was away.”
“Oh,” was all he said.
“I did,” she rushed to say. “I knew what we were to each other by then. I wondered if you felt it, or if you felt me doing soul searching magic. I wondered if you were alone or if you had someone to keep you company in Seattle. I wondered what you would do if you found out, if you hated me by then…”
“I could never hate you,” Stiles said when Lydia didn’t continue. “Was I bummed that you never paid attention to me? Yeah, but I got over it. I thought it just wasn’t meant to be, that we would be friendly acquaintances who saw each other at weddings and family barbecues, that having the pleasure to hang out with you at all was an honor already, that maybe we could be friends one day.”
“Stiles, I’m sorry—”
“No,” he said firmly. “You have nothing to apologize for. You were what? 19? Why would you listen to anyone when they tell you that your fate is in the small town you’d been trying to leave all your life? If you think about it, it’s kind of fucked up.”
“You’re being awfully logical about this,” Lydia said after a moment.
“Someone has to be. It’s okay, you can go back to being the sensible person tomorrow,” he continued.
Lydia scooted her chair closer to Stiles’ and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re so good, Stiles.”
“I’ll have to commit a felony to look cool in your eyes again.” He sighed dramatically. “Would a misdemeanor suffice?”
Lydia laughed at that, sitting up straight. “Let’s get out of here.”
They left the restaurant and walked in the direction of a nearby park, where they sat under the shade of a big tree and talked for hours about whatever crossed Stiles’ mind. It was entertaining, keeping up with his chatter, in a way that was completely different to how Derek kept her on her toes. She found she liked that about him.
At some point, Stiles caught sight of the time in his wrist watch and stopped mid-sentence. “Oh, it’s almost time. We should get going.”
“Where?”
“It’s really close. You’ll like this.”
As they walked down the park, it became more and more crowded as people walked in the same direction. Eventually, Lydia spotted the reason for the gathering: a stage was raised on the far side of the park and it looked like a play was about to begin.
“Theater in the park?” she asked. After a moment, she noticed the banners that announced the play and turned to Stiles excitedly. “Twelfth Night? How did you know?”
“I might have cheated and asked Allison,” he admitted.
Lydia gave him a smile that probably revealed too much. “Resourceful. I like it.”
They found a spot where to sit that gave them a good view but wasn’t too close to the stage. When the play started, Lydia’s attention went to the stage, where the story captured her attention as it always did. She got lost in Viola's story, so much so that she barely noticed the passage of time, and she was clapping at the end of Feste's song before she realized. Lydia felt Stiles' eyes on her and turned to look at him, his soft eyes and even softer smile gave him a besotted look that she felt compelled to wipe away with a kiss.
She leaned in and gave him a brief peck on the lips before pulling back to gauge at his reaction. He looked at her with surprise in his eyes, his smile brighter than ever. Stiles reached with one hand to caress her cheek, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned in for a longer kiss. Lydia remembered many first kisses with many different people, but they never felt like this. This kiss —her last ever first kiss, she knew that— was exactly like coming home on a rainy November day: comfortable and warmth and just right. She wondered if it was too early to ask Stiles to go back to her place with her or if Stiles had another trick up his sleeve.
Before she could ask, Stiles pulled back and looked at her, his brown eyes focused on her. "What do you wanna do next? Dinner or home? Your call."
Lydia didn't hesitate when she said, "and if I wanted you for dinner?"
Stiles gaped at her for a moment, but then the words rushed out of his mouth like an avalanche. "I would be extremely into that."
Stiles and Derek reached a compromise about their date. Derek would be in charge of lunch since Stiles would take them to drinks and a show. That meant Derek got to pick him up in his fancy car, attracting a fair number of Stiles’ neighbors to their windows, some even came to their porches taking out the trash and craning their necks as Stiles came out of his building. Stiles waved hello to Mrs. Johnson and she waved back with an ugly twist of her mouth.
“Why is half the neighborhood outside, Stiles?” Derek asked as soon as Stiles was inside.
“Hello to you too,” he started, closing the camaro’s door. “It’s your first time in the neighborhood, isn't it?"
"Yeah, so?"
"They're sizing you up. Probably asking each other if anyone's seen you here before and if they know you. You know, the usual." He put on his seatbelt and motioned Derek to put the car in motion. "Derek, I have extremely nosy neighbors, what's new?"
Derek drove them away, startled. "My neighborhood is nothing like this."
"Lucky," he said. "So, where are we going? If you tell me it's a surprise, I'll be angry but possibly turned on as well."
Derek laughed. Stiles loved hearing that laugh. Stiles would do anything to keep hearing that laugh, so when Derek told him it was a surprise, he just let his thoughts come out of his mouth "oh my God, Derek. I've never been more attracted to you."
Derek shook his head, but a smile stayed on his face and Stiles counted that as a win. He drove them to the lookout, that at this time of the day didn't have anyone hanging out, and found them a secluded spot a few yards from the main road.
"A picnic?" Stiles guessed.
"Sort of." Derek paused for a moment before leaving the car. "It's double cheese pepperoni, right?"
"What?" Stiles wasn't sure he was following. "That's my order from Rico's"
"I know."
Stiles had a feeling he'd regret it immediately, but he asked "do I wanna know how you know that?"
"The last time you serviced your jeep there was a ton of receipts shoved under one of your seats. Sorry."
His face burned with embarrassment. He was right: instant regret. "Wh- How?"
"I thought of asking you out a couple of times but I didn't think you'd be interested," Derek confessed.
Stiles' heart beat faster, he felt the air had been sucked out of the car, and he didn't know what to say, so all he said was: "oh."
"To be honest, I'm glad I didn't." Derek shrugged. "It wouldn't have had ended well and it would've made things awkward now."
"Why do you think so?" Stiles asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Let's say that there was a long time where I thought soulbonds weren't real and there was something wrong with me. If you ask anyone who's ever met Laura, I'm a player of some kind."
"Oh, I knew that," Stiles said, offhandedly. "I figured it would be an honor to have my heart broken by you."
Derek frowned and Stiles immediately looked for something else to say to make it right. "I mean, to have you in any way would be better than never getting to know you at all."
He looked at him for a moment, stunned. "Fuck, Stiles," Derek said. "You can't say those things before lunch."
"What?"
"I had a plan," he added, looking around as if someone would else would give him an answer. He glanced at Stiles with those intense green eyes of his. "I really want to kiss you right now."
Stiles was not counting on Derek to be the one to utter those words first, so his resolve immediately crumbled and nodded. They leaned close at the same time, their mouths meeting in the middle and Stiles finally understood why people describe some kisses as an awakening. Not only did it ease his doubts about how he fit in with Derek, but the way the three of them could fit together someday. It made his insides feel floaty and bubbly. It was a revelation: he could feel the same kind of intense feelings for two people. He was allowed to have this, to bask in feeling loved and loving them in return.
He didn't know how much time passed, but when he pulled back, Derek's lips were puffy and red from kissing. Stiles suspected he looked similarly debauched.
"Lunch?" Stiles asked, his eyes fixed on Derek's kissed mouth.
"Lunch," Derek agreed.
They got out of the car and Stiles took a moment to breathe in the fresh air of the Preserve to get his heartbeat under control.
For his part, Derek set up a blanket a distance from the car, keeping it in place with a small cooler. Then, he pulled an actual wicker basket and a large pizza box out of the trunk.
"Oh my God, you went to Rico's before picking me up? Why didn't you tell me earlier? It better not be cold," Stiles said.
Derek just smiled and motioned for him to sit on the blanket. Stiles diligently sat down and carefully watched Derek balance the pizza as he sat down. He opened the box and offered it to Stiles. "Bon appetit!"
Stiles dug in with less dignity than was probably required in a first date, but he knew that pizza was better fresh, especially Rico's. They ate mostly in silence, drinking the iced tea Derek brought.
Once the pizza was demolished, Derek turned to Stiles with a grin. "Dessert?"
He pulled out two slices of apple pie out of his basket, he even had a can of whipped cream to top them. Stiles thought it was adorable how Derek thought of every detail to make the whole experience feel like a dream. He was right: having Derek in any way would've been better than not have him at all. Stiles felt extremely lucky to be on a date with him.
"You know, I asked Lydia how your date went and she said I had to find out what a date with you was by myself. I'm starting to get an idea," Stiles said.
Derek looked down at the can of whipped cream he was holding and shook his head at Stiles. "This is only half a date," he reminded him.
"Right."
"So that means we're gonna have to keep going on dates until you get the full experience," Derek finished.
Stiles didn't know what to reply, so he settled for digging into his pie with a smile on his face.
They arrived at San Francisco just when most people were driving away from the city, so it wasn't so difficult for them to find parking near the venue. It was still a couple of blocks from The Fillmore, but that gave them a chance to walk around and chat for a while. Stiles casually steered them towards the bar he'd chosen for their pre-show drinks.
They found a booth at the far end of the bar and ordered two beers. Stiles would've preferred something stronger to soothe his nerves, but knew it was a bad idea to get wasted before a concert. Derek let Stiles babble about Seattle and his job and the last movie he watched and the book he was reading and even his last Wikipedia dive, listening intently and asking questions to show he was listening. It reminded him of Lydia's attentiveness the previous day and he briefly wondered if this had always been the way dates were supposed to feel: a little awkward, sure, but the other person's attention on him warming him from the inside instead of feeling like an obligation before getting to dominate the conversation themselves. His heart beat faster and his hands got sweaty, then he stumbled over his recount of The Fillmore's history.
"So, uh, yeah, the Elite Club era, uh..."
"Yeah?"
"It was... wild," Stiles finished, lamely. "Am I boring you?"
"I like listening to you," Derek said. "You look pretty when you get really into what you're talking about. Hot."
Stiles gaped at him as Derek's sly grin grew.
"Don't start things you don't intend to finish," Stiles said.
"Who said I don't?"
The air thickened between them, charged. He wondered if Derek would be down with getting nasty in the men's room. Instead of asking, Stiles forced himself to level his breath and calm his heartbeat. Derek reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers as he held it, squeezing once. Stiles squeezed back.
"Later," Derek promised.
"Later."
The concert was a great one.
The band was fantastic, the crowd was fire, the whole vibe was right and it made for a great first impression of live music, Stiles was sure of it. Derek was truly enjoying himself and it made the experience all the better for Stiles who watched him mouth along the lyrics of most of the songs with a happy smile on his face.
They held hands for a while, but Derek got really into a song at some point and Stiles let his hand go so he could sing freely. When the song ended, Derek's hand found his again and squeezed tight.
After the encore, the moment the lights came on again, Stiles saw the moment Derek decided he liked concerts.
"It was a great show," he said. Stiles nodded, taking a step towards him. Derek swallowed and leaned close to Stiles to say "we need to bring Lydia to one of these."
"She's been to many. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to hear you're into live music."
"We have to make this a thing we do," Derek looked almost frantic as he said it. "Please."
"You got it. Next concert we'll go together, anything else?" he asked, teasing.
"Thank you," Derek said sincerely.
Stiles' chest fluttered as he leaned to catch Derek's lips in a quick kiss. When they pulled apart, their eyes stayed locked on each other for the briefest of moments. They looked away when someone cleared their throat near them, blushing. Stiles' hand found Derek's and led them out of the venue.
They held hands on the street, basking on the cold sea breeze after the heat of the live show. "I had fun today, Stiles."
"So did I."
"Can we find a place with a locked door now?" Derek asked, causing Stiles to choke on air.
"Fuck, Derek." He swallowed. "You can't say things like that!"
Derek only grinned at him, then pulled him in for a heated kiss. For his part, Stiles grabbed his Henley and didn't let go. Suffice to say they didn't make it to Beacon Hills that night.
Image description: A whiteboard collage of 5 pictures. On the top left: Derek and Lydia, on the lower left a picture of a stage in a park. Middle top, a picture of a concert, middle bottom picture is Lydia and Stiles. On the right, Stiles and Derek. On the top left there's a post-it that says "What is love? 'Tis not hereafter". On the top right, a post it read "June 7th - June 9th". On the bottom right corner there's a ticket stub for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club playing at The Fillmore.