#grimmypuff

It had started out great. He’d gone to pick up Stiles, had pretended not to be severely attracted by how great he looked in the suit, and they’d made it to the restaurant the next county over with time to spare. They were seated, they perused the menu, they played footsies—well, Stiles did. Derek just tolerated it, though he did smile behind his menu because Stiles was fucking adorable.

Everything had been perfect. Just two normal guys out on a normal date.

And of course, that was when the Chimera came flying through the window. Followed by Scott. And the Pack. And it was mayhem and chaos, and people were screaming and running, and the police were on their way, and Derek just wanted to have a normal fucking date with his boyfriend.

But no. Instead, he was pulled into the fighting, Stiles knocked someone out by accident with a tray, and they all had to scatter when the cops arrived. Stiles wasn’t even in the Camaro with him when he peeled out of the lot, somehow it was Liam. Derek didn’t even know if Stiles had a ride back or if he’d accidentally abandoned him back at the restaurant!

So, yes, Derek was angry, frustrated, and annoyed. Because he couldn’t ever just take Stiles out on a real, proper date without some catastrophe interfering with his plans.

They reconvened at Deaton’s, like they always did after a shitstorm, and Derek breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Stiles hobbling over to him from Scott’s bike, having obviously ridden the hour back on the infernal machine.

“I can’t feel my dick,” he muttered to Derek, rearranging himself fairly obviously while moving to stand beside him.

“Sorry about your date,” Scott said awkwardly. “We didn’t exactly plan to gatecrash.”

“It’s all good,” Stiles insisted, waving one hand.

Derek turned to glare at him because no, Stiles. It was not ‘all good.’

The Pack was still discussing what to do next, but Derek just informed them all that he and Stiles were leaving. No one seemed interested in stopping them, so he pushed Stiles into the car, climbed behind the wheel, and peeled off.

Everything was fucking ruined, now. Their evening of alone time was over, and Derek was angry, frustrated, and annoyed. Maybe this wasn’t in the cards for them. Maybe they didn’t warrant ten fucking minutes of alone time where they could be normal people.

Maybe this was their life forever. Just constantly getting interrupted by something horrible happening. Stiles’ suit was ruined, and Derek was pretty sure the Chimera blood was never coming out of his shirt. Why couldn’t they just have one normal fucking evening?

“Hey, turn in here. Let’s get some ice cream,” Stiles said, motioning a McDonald’s.

“We didn’t even have dinner,” Derek snapped, much more harshly than he’d intended, but Stiles was used to him by now and just slapped at his arm until he obediently turned.

They went through the drive-thru and Stiles ordered them both full meals along with some McFlurries. Derek paid, because by God, if they weren’t going to eat at a high-end restaurant, he was at least going to fucking pay for the crappy McDonald’s.

Once Stiles had everything in his lap, he told Derek to turn left on the way out. Derek had no idea what he was planning, but he obeyed, and followed Stiles’ directions all the way to their old elementary school.

Derek parked in the empty lot, turning to give Stiles a confused look since this was a school and it was well past nine by now.

Stiles offered no explanation. He just grinned at him, then kicked open his door and climbed out, holding a drink-tray which contained both their drinks and their ice cream, and the take-out bag with their burgers and fries.

Sighing explosively, Derek followed, locking up the car, and walking along behind Stiles while he headed for the back of the school. They crossed the large field and walked over a hill towards the farthest part of the school grounds, and Derek frowned when he saw Stiles picking his way down the other side of the hill towards a playground.

It was fairly old, and didn’t have any of the newer and cooler items most playgrounds had, but it had some monkey bars, and a fireman pole, and swings. The see-saw was still there, but Derek was pretty sure it was broken. Thankfully, Stiles didn’t head in that direction at all, and just made a bee-line for the swings.

Once he reached them, almost stumbling in the sand, he turned to Derek and held out the drink tray. Derek obediently took it while Stiles sat down on one of the swings, opening the bag and pulling out Derek’s burger before holding that out as well. Derek waited for Stiles to unwrap his own, then handed the drinks back and traded him for the take-out bag, sitting down himself on a neighbouring swing.

They were both silent while they ate, Stiles staring up at the star-speckled sky, and Derek keeping his eyes on him. Stiles probably couldn’t see much in the dark, but Derek could see him as clearly as if it was broad daylight.

Stiles was a mess, with his suit jacket ripped, his hair sticking up all over the place, and—inexplicably—one sock missing. But he was still gorgeous, and he looked content.

“I used to come here all the time with Scott when I was younger,” Stiles said softly, crumpling up the wrapper of his burger and taking a large sip of one of the drinks on the tray. “When my mom died. This was kind of my comfort place. I’d come out here with Scott and we’d mess around. Sometimes other kids would be here, but usually we’d try and come later in the day. His mom would always be working, and my dad… well, he was either working or hitting the bottle, so it was easy for us to come out whenever we wanted.”

Derek scanned the small playground, and tried to remember a period where he was ever here. He remembered it existed, but because of his Werewolf nature, his parents had always kind of shied away from the idea of any of their children playing with other kids. They always had to be careful, and even when Derek was older, he couldn’t do certain sports, and had to be extremely careful with the ones he did. Never too fast, never too strong, always conscious of exactly how much energy he was exerting.

“I didn’t go to playgrounds much when I was little,” Derek admitted, digging his fries out of the bag and holding it out to Stiles. They traded the drink-tray for the bag again, Derek keeping it balanced on his knees so he could eat his fries. Stiles was still staring at the sky while he picked his fries up one at a time.

“Too good for it?” Stiles teased.

“Too risky. When you’re a kid, you don’t think about how different you are from the other kids. You’re a kid, and they’re a kid, and you just want to play. But when you’re a Werewolf and you can break someone’s arm by running into them too hard playing red rover, it kind of kills the fun.”

“Hm,” Stiles agreed. “Well, I was always partial to the swings. Scott and I didn’t really have many friends, and you don’t need a friend to play on the swings.”

“Was that your swing?” Derek asked with a small smile, motioning the one Stiles was currently sitting on.

“Yep. This was always mine. I used to try and swing up as high as I could and jump off. Tried to see how far I could go. I used to pretend I was flying back then. Things were simpler.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, crumpling up the fry container and waiting on Stiles to finish his so they could start on their ice cream.

Once they were both done with the food, Derek handed Stiles his McFlurry, and grabbed his own before setting the drink-tray on the grass to his left. Their drinks were still half-full, but they were less likely to get sand in them than the McFlurries were.

“Sorry about our date.”

“Not your fault, big guy.” Stiles reached over to slap him in the chest, smiling slightly. “That’s not us, anyway. Big fancy restaurants, nice suits, expensive meals. You know I’m fine with spending time with you.”

“I know.” Derek looked up at the sky as well and smiled a little. “It’s kind of peaceful out here.”

“Yeah, I like it. Come here sometimes when I want to think. Figured we could just have our date here. We don’t need to go out of our way, I’m fine just having you beside me.”

“Noted.” Derek looked back down into his ice cream, moving the soft serve around to find an oreo chunk. “Next date will be McDonald’s and the playground.”

“Hey, I’m down with that, as long as you’re buying. McDonald’s is expensive, man.”

Derek snorted and leaned over to lightly shove Stiles. The other swung away from him, then back towards him, smiling.

They finished their ice cream in silence, and when Stiles was done, he threw his trash towards where the drink-tray was to be dealt with later, and grabbed the chains on either side of himself, grinning at Derek.

“Bet you I can jump further than you can.”

“Bet you can’t and you’ll just hurt yourself.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but obediently began to swing back and forth.

He was definitely going to be stuck carrying Stiles back to the car after he hurt himself flying off the swing.

It would still be the best date ever.