♞Pairing: Steo
♞Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken
♞Tags: wedding, getting back together, future fic
♞Words: 2047
Sitting on the steps at the front of the church, arms loosely crossed over his thighs and phone in his hand, Theo is the very definition of bored. Something you very much should not be on the day you tie the knot with the person you claim to be your soulmate. Not that those exact words have ever left Theo’s mouth. Those have only ever rolled over Tracy’s tongue. She’s always believed that this day would come, even during the time Theo dated Stiles. It’s hard to blame her. Theo is like a drug. Once hooked, it’s impossible to get clean.
That Stiles has managed to stay away from five years seems like a miracle. Yet, he’s here on the off-chance that Theo still feels the way for him he’s used to do – even though Stiles was the one who walked away. They were passionate, and Stiles still can’t begin to put into words how he feels about Theo, but they were explosive, more so once their respective careers took off. Theo Raeken, one of the best receivers seen in generations, and Stiles Stilinski, an up-and-coming actor people throw blank checks at, so he’d be in their movies or TV shows.
They were volatile, but they made sense.
They never made their relationship a secret, but they were private – too private for the media, who decided to spin their own stories. Stiles too the brunt of that. A new rumored romance at least once a month. Interview questions from journalist. Stiles reaffirming that he’s still dating Theo but refusing to give any further comments. A lot of people online kept coming to his defense, giving the media the engagement it so desperately craved, and the cycle went on and on.
Even when Stiles stopped commenting at all as his relationship crumbled behind the scenes, nothing changed. Theo’s possessive streak has been an issue from the beginning. It was manageable. Easy to handle. The constant onslaught of rumors, however, caused it to fly off the handle. After multiple near misses, Stiles decided to leave before they both explode and so or say something they cannot come back from.
The world learned of their break-up because Tracy posted pictures of herself and Theo everywhere.
Stiles, in return, fucked more people than he can count. He became who the media told him he is. Funny, really, that out of the two of them Stiles turned into a fuckboy.
And now he’s hiding in the last row of a church Theo never wanted to get married in. He knew about the wedding long before Josh and Corey popped up on his doorstep. Tracy announced it the very day of their engagement. Of Corey and Josh hadn’t continuously insisted, Stiles wouldn’t be doing this. He wouldn’t be here, putting his heart – and pride – on the line in front of too many strangers and at least twenty invited paparazzi, waiting outside the church, and, in turn, the whole fucking world. If Theo’s closest friends are right, all Stiles has to do is get up, be seen, and Theo would drop everything to take him back no questions asked. But Stiles knows he can only ask this of Theo if he’s sure they work out, if he wants to stay with him, knowing and accepting every part of Theo.
Only then can he allow Theo to uproot his life.
The longer Stiles waits, the worse it will get for Tracy too. Not that she would’ve cared. She tried to get with Theo every chance she got. Still, Stiles wonders what would feel worse, waiting until the officiant asks him to speak – and what if he freezes? – or ripping the band aid off and stop the ceremony from even starting.
Shifting on the pew, Stiles lets out a breath and allows himself to look away from Theo at the front of the church and glances at Josh and Corey, looking around as if waiting for something – someone. He had ample time to call Theo before today, to stop all of this from even happening.
He didn’t.
Is that answer enough?
His heart aches.
Stiles can’t let Theo do this. He can’t bring himself to miss what might be his very last chance.
Stiles takes another deep breath, taking in the guests in their expensive dresses and suits. He blocks out their chatter, the laughter, the good mood he’s about to drop a bomb on. All he has to do is get up and out of the dark corner he’s been hiding in, to step into the aisle. The moment he does, people will notice. Theo will see him. It feels like a small miracle nobody has until now. Stiles half expected Tracy had handed out flyers with his face on them to make sure he won’t ruin anything.
However, that’s exactly what he’s about to do.
Stiles cannot wait a second longer. He doesn’t know when the ceremony is about to start. He takes a steadying breath and slips out of the pew.
Theo people closest to him glance up. Although Stiles keeps his face angled away from them, he can tell the moment they’ve recognized him. There’s a shift in the air. Their quiet conversation turns into urgent whispers. It’s not hard to imagine how they’re trying to tell people in front of them. A doomed game of telephone that won’t reach Tracy in time. If someone tries to stop him, Theo will notice.
Stiles has made a decision.
For the first time in five years, he can finally breathe again.
Let’s see how long that lasts. His heartbeat picks up the closer he gets to the aisle. Every second, every step brings him closer to the moment Theo will spot him. The whispers seem to get louder around him, echoing in the church as the conversations die around him. Do they know who he is to Theo? Are thy aware of their history? Their feelings? Can they guess why Stiles is here? If they do, they-
Who cares?
Stiles isn’t here because of them. He’s here for Theo. He glances in his direction, watches as Theo scrolls on his phone, running a hand through his hair. It’s longer now, the way he wears it during off-season. It suits him. To be honest, Stiles likes it best on him, even more so when he’s sporting a designer stubble. Sadly, Tracy made sure that today will be stubble free.
His fingers tremble, and he curls his hands into fists then pushes them into his pants, unsure what to do with them. He can hardly wave at Theo. Should he wave at Theo?
No.
The inside of the church tips. On the left side, the conversations have grown silent. The right side has yet to realize something’s amiss.
Swallowing, Stiles glances back to the front at the same time Josh elbows Corey and points at him. The other groomsmen turn to look as well. Tara, who has been standing a little of to the side, widens her eyes. She smiles, contrasting the look of horror on the bridesmaids’ faces. One of them, presumably the maid of honor, breaks away from the group, her light blue dress fluttering after her. Every click of her heels is a gunshot going off inside.
The sound halts more conversations and catches Theo’s attention. Finally, he looks up from his phone. “What,” he asks, his tone cold and laces with annoyance as he studies the other bridesmaids, “is the issue now?”
None of the girls offer a reply.
Josh bounces over and taps Theo’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear.
Stiles steps into the aisle. He cannot bring himself to look away from Theo for even a second. So, he sees it all – the way Theo’s lips part, his eyes widening as they search for him in the mass of people, how they light up with a smile when he finally finds him, standing out like a sore thumb in his white dress shirt and black slacks. To tie. No jacket. But sneakers. Casual. Low key. The way they imagined their weddings to be on the few occasions they’ve talked about it.
The phone slips from Theo’s fingers. The crack of it hitting the ground is followed by deafening silence. Nobody utters a single word as Theo is moving. Towards him.
“Theodore!” Mrs. Raeken’s voice cuts into the silence. Her eyes narrowed. The dark green dress probably the most expensive in the whole church.
Stiles didn’t miss her, and he’s sure, that feeling is reciprocated.
Theo doesn’t stop. Instead, he fidgets with his hand halfway down the aisle. He doesn’t run, and Stiles never expected him to. Just as Theo most likely didn’t expect Stiles to meet him halfway or jump into his arms. That’s not who they are.
Stiles’ heart hammers in his chest as he watches Theo approach, as he sees nobody else moving. It’s like the world around them has frozen, like it stopped turning for everyone but them.
And then Theo drops this engagement ring causing the church to erupt.
But Theo simply grabs Stiles’ waist and presses him against the wall, startling a laugh of out Stiles – one Theo steals from his lips as he crashes their mouths together. Their bodies fit together like they used to, like nothing has changed, and Stiles’ heart slows as its missing piece has returned. There is no question about this, about them. The world narrows around them until they’re the only people to exist. Theo kisses him like a starving person, lips and tongue and teeth, and Stiles pulls him closer by the collar of his jacket.
He's returned home after years and years of self-imposed exile.
“Get a room,” Tara mutters. Stiles can’t tell if it’s her voice or the hurried clicking of heels that pulled them apart.
“Let’s go, boys!” Josh drums his hands on Theo’s shoulders before following Corey and Tara out, hollering, “let’s go. Let’s go!”
Chuckling, Theo looks up at Stiles. His features soften for a moment, and he cups Stiles’ cheeks. “You ready?”
Stiles hums. “Waiting on you.” Truth is, he’s not ready to face the real world. He knows what happens once they leave. The questions. The pictures. The media shitstorm that Lydia will hate him for. But for Theo, he’s quite willing to risk it all. So, he intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand.
Theo pulls him along, leaving the church without sparing a single glance back.
Stiles does, however, and he looks past everyone else, finding Tracy’s eyes at once. She’s not crying, not screaming, not furiously making her way towards them. Her eyes narrow slightly as she raises her chin. She doesn’t seem surprised, just determined to keep her composure in check.
Someone calls Theo’s name, but he’s already pushing the doors open. He squeezes his hand once more and forces Stiles’ attention back to the reality in front of him – a shitton of cameras flashing, pointed at them, and a barraged of questions hurled in their general direction. Between them and the paparazzi, a black SUV with Corey hanging out of on of the windows.
“Come on!”
They hurry down the stars. The backdoor flies open and Corey scoots to the other side of the backseat.
Theo ushers Stiles in first then slams the door shut once he sits down himself, hand still holding on to Stiles’. “Step on it.”
Tara gives him a thumbs up.
A few moments later, they’re in the street, heading towards a destination Stiles doesn’t care much about as long as he reaches it with Theo by his side, who turns to look at him, cocked eyebrow and smirk firmly on his lips. “What took you so long?”
Stiles huffs out a breath. “Don’t even try to pin this on me, Raeken.”
“I swear,” Tara says before her brother has the chance to say anything, “if you start arguing, I will turn this car around.”
Theo barks out a laugh.
Chuckling softly, Stiles sins deeper into the middle seat and leans his head against Theo’s shoulder. He glances at Tara, watching her brother in the rearview mirror, eyes bright, slightly crinkled as her smile widens. Stiles squeezes Theo’s hand again, promising himself to hold onto him for the rest of their lives.
