Sterek Love

you’re you and that’s enough.

Or the tabletop gaming club he joined, where everyone was just as competitive as he was, and punches had been thrown on more than one occasion.

Or like, Stiles jogged now.

Through the National Mall.

Like Captain America or some shit.

And with these hobbies came a sort of routine, and though most were on hold during the summer when his trivia team and gaming rivals were back home, the running stuck. It was calming and got his mind off things, gave him a chance to think about any papers he had to write, or de-stress about his FBI internship when it got a little hectic.

It was a good routine.

So every Saturday morning, Stiles got up a little earlier so he could get in his longer route, and left his dorm for his jog through the National Mall. On Saturdays, he took the path that went through the war memorials, down into West Potomac Park, and over to the Jefferson Memorial. It was his favorite place to take a breather because that early in the morning, there were rarely any tourists, and other joggers left him alone. It was nice and private, with a great view of the city across the water.

Stiles leaned back against the front steps and glanced around him casually, making sure there was no one too close before pulling out his little burner flip phone.

He had an old school drug dealer flip phone. His dad would be so proud.

There was only one number the phone ever called, so there was no need to save it under a name.

He waited for a few minutes, biding his time until the clock hit 7:15am, and then he called that number.

On the third ring, Derek picked up.

“Morning, sunshine!” Stiles greeted, already wide awake from his jog. Derek grunted back. He must’ve had a late night at the bar. “Any leads?”

Derek yawned loudly. “Still no werewolves with triskele tattoos, still wanted for murder.”

CHASING. IS THAT YOU, CHASING :| *throws self off cliff*

All right, Lovely. You were first, and you were so sweet… So here you are, my dear!

~~~~~~~~~

            The idea was glacially slow when it began, burrowing under his skin before he knew what it really was. He made a guess, the day that Stiles brought home that little flea-ridden, mangy kitten and Derek had to sit by and watch him care for it day after day. Seeing that soft smile on Stiles’ face, the way his longer fingers waved in the air above the now vibrant, playful kitten, Derek came to recognize the feeling.

            It was love and it was longing and it was pack.

            It was the lazy Sunday morning haze, the stroking of Stiles’ fingers down the line of his spine. It was the love the human practically radiated, warm under Derek’s palm, and how badly Derek wanted to shape something new with him. Create something solid with him, something lasting. Something theirs.

            “Stiles,” he said softly and he could hear the stir of Stiles’ heartbeat beneath his skin as he struggled closer to consciousness. Sleeping in was Stiles’ favorite indulgent luxury.

            “Mm?” Stiles hummed in answer, carding his fingers through Derek’s hair and kissing the crown of his head. “Breakfast?”

            “Do you ever think about kids?” Derek asked, before he lost the nerve.

            “Not for breakfast,” Stiles said seriously, not even missing a beat. Derek slapped his belly, but gently, because Stiles was chuckling at him.

            “I’m serious, Stiles,” he chided, rolling just enough that he could see Stiles’ face.

            Stiles scoffed, because he knew it was a serious question, he just didn’t have an answer. Not one like Derek was asking for anyway. “I do,” he admitted quietly. “I mean, I think about it. What it would be like to have a little… cheeky pup running around. But you know we can’t…” He just let it trail off there, because of course Derek knew. “I mean, unless I really missed something in Werewolf Anatomy 101.”

            “You didn’t,” Derek assured him. “But… we could adopt one.”

            “Baby shopping,” Stiles said, like it was impressive. Derek rolled his eyes. “Okay then, boy or girl?”

            Derek looked at him them, because it sounded like he was serious, like he was asking for real and Derek just hadn’t given it that much thought. “I… I don’t know,” he said honestly.

            Stiles smiled softly, tilted his head in consideration. “I’d like to see you with a little girl,” he said finally. “I bet you’d have the biggest soft spot for a little girl. You’d sit at her table with her tiny little pink tea set and wear a big, pink, old-lady hat and a fluorescent boa. I will take so many pictures…”

            Derek groaned, but the noise caught in his throat because Stiles had said will. “You really… you really think we could do it?” he asked hesitantly.

            “Yeah,” Stiles said, more a conclusion than an answer. “Okay, like, not today, we have plans with my father, but we can look into it. Together.”

On the other side, Derek is pissed at him. “You didn’t even know where it went, you could have been following me to nothing, Stiles. You could have died for no reason!” Derek’s hands are fisted in Stiles’ t-shirt. 

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t be the first time I chose to die rather than leave you behind,” Stiles throws back at him, pushing his hands away. Derek doesn’t have anything to say to that other than to glare heavily before turning and taking in their surroundings. 

They’re in a quiet clearing with trees on either side and mountains in the distance. It’s a clear sunny day. Wherever they are.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” Derek says.

“Yeah?” Stiles says. “Don’t even try to pretend like you wouldn’t have done the same damn thing, Derek,” Stiles says. 

“Yeah?” Derek mocks, “the difference is I don’t have anything to leave behind, Stiles.”

“Except me,” Stiles counters, “I’m here aren’t I?” Derek doesn’t have anything to say to that. He turns away and starts stalking off in the direction of the setting sun. “Where are you going?” Stiles asks.

“There’s no point staying here,” Derek says, “there’s nothing here.” Stiles can’t really argue with that so he tags along after Derek.

Eventually, they end up in a small, quiet village at the base of the mountain. Derek is wary but they’re welcomed readily and the town itself is inhabited by a variety of supernatural creatures. 

After a few days they admit they might be there a while, Stiles worries about his father and Scott. They end up settling in. Derek, almost immediately. After several weeks it becomes apparent their situation may be for the longer haul. The village comes together and they help build the two a small house. 

Stiles hasn’t given up hope the others will find a way to bring them back. But in the mean time he can’t help but settle in. Months go by and Stiles can’t help but admit how much better Derek is here than he’s ever seen him in Beacon Hills. Stiles doesn’t miss it much either. He misses his dad, obviously, but the town? Not so much. 

Derek ends up becoming something of a farmer, helps with building when its needed and any other hard labor. Stiles spends most of his time wandering. Which is how he ends up finding these old ruins. There are runes or glyphs carved into the structure. 

He has a feeling this is the closest he’s come to an answer and a way home since they arrived. He doesn’t tel Derek, but he starts to go through the town archives, learn more about the history of the place. Eventually, he finds enough to start decoding and translating the ancient runes. 

He thinks he wants to get home, and then he and Derek cross that final thin line between whatever they were and something more. Suddenly things feel a lot more complicated when he gets to wake up next to Derek every morning, sees the small smile that comes out more and more each day on Derek’s face. 

They build a life for themselves. Derek is happy, and Stiles is in love. It’s been almost a year when Stiles thinks he’s finally found a way to open a portal home. He doesn’t say anything, simmers in his own conflicted misery for several days before Derek confronts him about it. 

“If you don’t want to tell me what’s been bothering you for the past few weeks, fine. But, just, don’t think you can’t, Stiles, alright?” Derek tells him. Stiles feels the breakfast Derek made him writhing around in his gut.

“I might have found a way home,” Stiles admits. Derek’s expression is guarded, masked.

“I can’t say that I’m surprised,” Derek finally says. He reaches across the table and squeezes Stiles’ hand. “You could have told me that’s what you’ve been up to.”

“You’re happy here,” Stiles says. He feels guilty. “Even if it worked, I couldn’t ever ask you to leave. Honestly, I’m not even sure I want to.” 

“You have people back home that care about you, that are missing you,” Derek says, softly. “I don’t blame you for wanting to go home.”

“This feels like home,” Stiles admits. “Being here with you? Even if I could go back…I don’t think I could leave you behind now anymore than I could before.” Derek’s expression softens. 

“You remember what you said when we first got here?” Derek asks softly. 

Stiles nods, “I said I was the only thing you had to leave behind. I wasn’t…I dunno,” Stiles sighs.

“It was the truth, Stiles,” Derek says. “I am happy.”

Stiles feels his face twitch, his lips turning up in a small, pleased smile. 

“I’m happy with you, Stiles, you make me happy.”

“Shut up,” Stiles sighs, hand trembling in Derek’s. 

“If you want to go home, if we can, I’d go anywhere with you, Stiles,” Derek says, his voice soft. Stiles feels his face heat. 

“I love you too,” he says softly. “You make me happy, too, Derek.”

It’s been a year and two days when they get married. The whole village is there, and they both know it’s more symbolic than anything, but it feels like the most important thing to ever have happen to them both. 

In the end it’s the others that find a way to reopen the portal. Stiles and Derek go home. It’s on the other side they find out they’ve only been gone for a few weeks.

Stiles doesn’t tell them the truth, and Derek doesn’t think it’s his place to do so. Stiles isn’t sure why. He thinks partly because he’s afraid of what it might do to his dad, to know how long he’s been gone. 

He’s not sure how to tell any of them what’s happened. Neither of them are sure how to fit back into their old lives. Stiles is eighteen again. He doesn’t know how to be without Derek anymore, he’s the only thing that matters to Stiles. 

Stiles wears the ring Derek made for him on a chain around his neck. A few weeks after he’s been back, his dad sees it when it falls out of his t-shirt when he bends over to grab something. 

“Where’d you get that?” His Dad asks, and he grabs hold to look at it in the light. He reads the inscription out loud before Stiles has a chance to pull it away.

Stiles feels his face heat. His father gets it, even if he doesn’t know the full meaning behind the phrase.

when your hands run down my body // it’s like I’m taken to a cosmic sky