#heartsafool

"Aw, you guys."

"So this is for Stiles?" Scott frowns as he looks around. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?"

"Because you can’t keep a secret from Stiles for more than five minutes," Lydia snaps, rolling her eyes and helping Derek disentangle himself from the banner. 

He gives up trying to do it carefully and slices through it with his claws, stalking toward their bedroom and slamming the door. There’s a bellowing silence left in his wake and Allison waves the cake at Stiles, trying to smile brightly. 

"Derek said you’d appreciate it?" She pulls a face as she looks down at the blue and orange monstrosity. "I think he went a little overboard with food colouring."

"Oh my god," Stiles breathes out. "That’s so fucking adorable."

"Dude," Scott spins to look at him apologetically. "I’m so sorry, I had no idea—"

"No, bro, don’t sweat it," Stiles beams at him. "This is the best surprise ever, no one got maimed or cut in half, we just saw the worst disaster movie of the century…" He glances towards the still shut bedroom door. "I’ll just— be right back?"

"Tell Derek I’m sorry!"

"Tell Derek to quit being a drama Queen," Lydia scoffs. 

"Get naked," Isaac adds thoughtfully. "You seem to be the only one that works for."

Stiles points at Isaac. “That better be a shit joke, man. If I find out you’ve been getting naked in front of my guy to get out of doing the dishes, I won’t be hurting you but I’ll… I’ll think of something,” he warns as he heads across the living room. “Put some music on, none of you are allowed to listen to this!”

When he lets himself into the bedroom it’s dark, and Derek is lying flat out on the bed, one arm over his head. Stiles clambers up next to him, rests his elbows on Derek’s chest, and even though he’s clearly sulking, one of Derek’s hands sneaks out to stroke down his back, letting him know it isn’t Stiles that he’s mad at. 

"You know I started planning this thing four months ago?"

"It was awesome," Stiles says softly, tripping his fingers up Derek’s cheek, running them along his frown and trying to smooth out the lines. "Seriously, thank you."

"I told Lydia we should have included Scott, but they wouldn’t listen, no one ever fucking listens."

"I listen."

Derek sighs, pulls his arm away to crack one eye open and smile balefully at Stiles. “I know, I’m sorry, this isn’t— this isn’t how I wanted it to go. I shouldn’t even be pissed, it’s not about me.”

"It’s ok, I get it. You wanted something to be good for me, right?"

"Yes," Derek says vehemently, hand tightening in the back of Stiles’ sweater. "You deserve all the good things."

"And I have them, I swear. And think about it," he quirks a grin. "This way I wasn’t so shocked, nobody got punched in the face, or worse maced in the face.”

"True," Derek quirks his mouth ruefully. "I’m sorry, though."

"Don’t be, oh my god, Derek, this is hands down the coolest thing ever. You made an orange and blue cake!"

Derek rolls his eyes, rolls over so he can bury his face in Stiles’ neck. “I’m still embarrassed at my own sentimentality about that.”

"I’m not," Stiles grins at the top of his head. "Man, you must love me a whole fucking lot to have gone to all this trouble."

"I do," Derek says into his neck. 

"That’s…" he swallows, wraps his arms round Derek and holds on tightly. "That’s the best part of the surprise," he says finally.