#darrish

Moodboard: Derek Hale x Jordan Parrish

Moodboard: Derek x Jordan (Darrish/Halehound)

Parrish doesn’t really have a personal life. It’s always work work work and by the time he gets home he just wants to eat dinner and fall asleep watching a movie.

To him, Derek must be the complete opposite. Carefree and loaded with money, he’s probably never worked a day in his life. He’s also got a record for getting into trouble.

When Derek asks Parrish out, it feels like a prank at first. How much in common could they possibly have? But Parrish isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he reluctantly agrees. Sheriff has told him he needs to loosen up.

Derek takes Parrish to his loft, which is in dire need of repairs. But there’s a projector setup and Derek’s cooked something that smells great.

Parrish is a bit shocked at the effort. “This is what you’ve planned?”

“I’m not sure what you were expecting,” Derek retorts.

“You just seem more like a hook up type of guy.” Parrish puts up his hands. “Not that that was what I’m after. This is perfect, thank you.”

—

Top Teen Wolf Ships - Derek

Oh my God, oh my God WHAT a concept. Derek's sitting there in the station staring at him like,

Yes, it was definitely him. Definitely Jordan. He had the same unfairly chiseled jawline, the same unfairly beautiful green eyes, the same unfairly perfect white teeth.

(And Derek remembered what Jordan had looked like, awkward and mumbling, when he had braces in middle school, but they'd come off in 8th grade, leaving him with a smile so devastating, Derek had begged his mother to let him get braces, only to be informed that they wouldn't work on a werewolf.)

So this... this man was definitely Jordan Parrish. Derek just didn't understand...

"Jordan?" he said, soft, confused.

Jordan's brow furrowed. "Do I know you?"

Which, okay, that was fair because Derek generally dove behind furniture or held textbooks in front of his face whenever Jordan was around, sure that his mortifying adoration would be written on his forehead. But the more important issue was,

"Jordan, why are you, like, thirty?"

"Thirty??" Jordan spluttered. His mouth dropped open, horrified. "I am - why would - I am NOT thirty!" He stood from his crouch, arms crossed over his chest as he continued to speak with frantic rapidity, "I'm twenty-four! A young twenty-four. I get carded all the time."

As he continued to go on, Derek quietly ran the math, adding up these impossible but undeniable clues. "It's 2013?" he murmured.