#sam meme

25. Exchanging Letters

The first postcard showed up a few days after Stiles startedhis senior year. It was shot of a lighthouse at sunset, with vibrant stormclouds boiling in the sky. On the back was a simple note:

It’s pretty up here.Quiet. I like the rain.- Derek

That was it; the only other thing on the card was Stiles’saddress in Derek’s neat handwriting.

Stiles glanced at his phone. Derek had his number; why the hell washe getting a postcard instead of a text?

Then again, it wasDerek, and there were some things Stiles had given up on ever understanding.The only thing he was sure of was that Derek did have a reason for it.

The second postcard arrived about two weeks later, this timewith a picture of the scariest row of cowboy dolls Stiles had ever seen in hislife.

I found the kitschiestrest stop in the entire US. You’d love this place.- Derek

Stiles snorted and put that postcard with the first one.

When the third one came in the mail four days later, Stiles got a shoebox tostick them in.

Sometimes he’d get two or three in a week. Other times, itwould be a week or two between cards. But it was never more than a month, andit was almost always less than that. Derek never left an address or any way forStiles to contact him—his previous phone number had apparently beendisconnected, judging by the failed texts Stiles had tried to send—but he sent postcardsreligiously.

I’ve been to threecounty fairs in the past two weeks. I feel like that’s an accomplishment you’dbe proud of. And yes, I won a stuffed animal at two of them.- Derek

“Of course you did,” Stiles told the postcard.

I-40 in Oklahoma isthe most boring stretch of road I’ve ever seen in my life.- Derek

“As long as you’re not being chased by tornadoes,”Stiles said. “I’ve seen Twister.”

I ran the AppalachianTrail as a wolf. It might sound stupid, but that’s something I’ve always wantedto do. I didn’t think I’d get to because I didn’t think I’d ever get the fullshift.- DerekP.S. Laura should’vebeen doing it with me.

Stiles ran his fingers over the picture of the AppalachianMountains on the front of that postcard. “It’s not stupid at all, big guy.She’d have been proud of you.”

The shoebox got fuller and fuller, and Stiles probably spentmore time than he should’ve rereading each postcard until he knew them all byheart. Even though he couldn’t talk backto Derek, reading them made him feel better. Reading them reminded him thatDerek was okay, or at least, was trying to be okay. And as much as ithurt to have been left behind, that was what Stiles really needed to know.

When he finally graduated and moved east for college, hetook the shoebox with him. It was the only thing he regretted about choosingthe school he did: There was no way for him to tell Derek that his address hadchanged. At least Dad would save the postcards for him.

He’d been in his dorm for a week when there was a knock onhis door. Stiles answered it wearing boxers and a T-shirt that hadn’t beenwashed in two days, because he was still unpacking.

Derek was standing on the other side, beard, leather jacket,and all.

Stiles blinked four times before he realized he wasn’tseeing things. “What.”

Derek smiled. “Hi, Stiles.”

Okay, well, more than a year of not seeing Derek’s stupidly rare,stupidly beautiful smile had not actually made Stiles any more immune to it. Infact, he was probably less immune now, dammit. “How the hell did you findme?”

“Your dad,” Derek said. “I called the stationto get your new address.”

“I would say that’s stalking, but I’m pretty surethat’s actually less creepy than halfthe shit you did in high school,” Stiles said. “Why didn’t youcall?”

Or text, or give meany way of talking back to you?

“Because I couldn’t go back,” Derek said.“I needed time, and I couldn’t go back. And I couldn’t risk hearing youask me to.”

Stiles paused. “Wait.Are you saying…if I’d asked, you’d have come back to Beacon Hills?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Derek answered it so frankly that Stiles didn’t know what todo with that information. That Derek would leave for his own mental health, andyet, if Stiles had ever asked him to, he’d have dropped everything and returnedwithout a second thought.

That was big.

“I would never have asked you to,” Stiles said. He needed Derek to know that, at least. “Ijust…I wanted to be able to talk to you.”

Derek shoved his hands in his pockets, and the corner of hislip twitched. “Can we talk now?”

23: Seeking Shelter

Lydia stumbled through the driving rain, and she only knew she was going in the right direction because Cora still had hold of her hand. Normal rainstorms were bad enough, but she was reasonably sure this one had a supernatural elemental behind it, making it a thousand times worse.

Her clothes had been soaked within seconds. Her hair was plastered to her head. She was pretty sure she'd lost one of her favorite boots in the mud a hundred yards back.

Whenever they found this elemental, Lydia was going to jab her stiletto heel right into its eye.

"Where are we going?" she shouted over the roar of the rain.

"We're almost there!" Cora shouted back, which didn't answer Lydia's question and thus wasn't helpful in the least.

10. A Shy Kiss

(This…probably wenta little different direction than what you expected, but a friend of minesuggested wolf!Derek and the concept sounded so adorable that I couldn’tresist.)

Stiles collapsed onto the nearest log and heaved in thedeepest breaths he could manage. This was what he got for joining the wolveson a full moon run: a stitch in his side and getting left behind in the middleof the preserve.

Okay, he wasn’t reallyleft behind, he could admit. He could hear the others in the woods around him, yippingand playing around, all close enough that he had a feeling they were keeping aneye on him, as well. And even then, with his magic, he was far from helpless.

Still. Kind of sucked to be the only one who couldn’t keepup running with the pack.

At least it was a nice enough night. It would be even worseif it were stupidly cold or stupidly hot. Stiles leaned back on his hands andlooked up at the star-speckled sky where it was visible through the trees.

He heard the soft padding of paws on the ground to his left,and saw Derek trotting up to him, two Alpha-red eyes and sleek black fur hecould barely see in the dark.

Stiles patted the log beside him. “You tired, big guy?Want to join me for a rest?”

Derek sat at his feet instead, his tongue lolling out as hepanted.

“Yeah, I hear you.” Stiles sighed and looked backup at the sky. “I probably should’ve stayed back. You guys are way fasterthan I am.”

Derek huffed.

“I mean, it’s true,” Stiles said. “But, youknow… I’m tired of always getting left behind when you guys run out and dowolfy things. I thought I could at least try and keep up.”

Derek’s cold nose brushed his hand, and Stiles looked downat him. Derek put his front paws on his lap, standing on his hind legs so thatthey were eye-to-eye.

“What is it?” Stiles asked. “Do you want meto throw a stick for you? Or, you know, a squirrel?”

He swore Derek wasgiving him a judging look, even with his wolf face. Which, you know. Score onefor Stiles, because he tried to work that look out of Derek at least once anight. He was pretty sure it was what Derek gave him instead of a laugh.

Derek leaned in and shyly licked his cheek, and thenimmediately dropped to the ground at Stiles’s feet and curled up there.

Stiles blinked and touched his cheek. “Did you just…kiss me?”

Whump went Derek’stail against the side of the log.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Stiles saidslowly. His brain was mentally reconfiguring to work with a world where Derek—orwolf!Derek, at least—wanted to kiss him. “Does that mean… you’re happyI’m here?”

Derek’s tail actually wagged at that.

“Oh.” Stiles couldn’t stop the smile spreadingover his face. “You likeme.”

Derek covered his face with one paw.

Stiles reached down and scratched behind his ears.“That’s okay, big guy. Because I kind of like you, too. A lot. Kind of alot. And to prove it, I’m going to show up at your loft tomorrow morning withhot chocolate and take you on a post-full-moon brunch date. Woof once if you’dbe into that.”

He swore Derek rolled his eyes, but he also gave a soft woof and put his head down on Stiles’sshoes.

“Okay.” Stiles scratched Derek’s ears once more. “Brunchdate it is. My treat.”

Derek actually sighed, which Stiles took to mean it better be.

“I promise!” Stiles said. “I’m going to treatyou right, dude.”

Derek pressed his head into Stiles’s knee and nuzzled there.And that, Stiles took to mean I know.

Stiles buried his fingers in Derek’s fur and looked back up at the sky with a stupidly huge grin on his face. It seemed like it was a good idea for him to come out with the pack tonight, after all.

15. A Hope We Don’t Get Caught Kiss

Hardison was walking down the hall, minding his own business—well,looking like he was minding his ownbusiness while he was actually minding everyone else’s business, but semantics—when someone grabbed him from behindand yanked him into a closet.

He nearly had a damn heart attack before he realized it wasParker.

“Parker!” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing?”

Parker kissed him soundly on the lips. Which, normally thiswas not something Hardison minded. In fact, normally this was something heliked a lot. But—

He had to push away. “Parker. I’m supposed to be single. If we get caught—”

She pouted. “I know. But I miss you. We miss you.”

“We also want this con to go off without a hitch,”Eliot grumbled over the comms.

“Nobody saw!” Parker whisper-yelled.

Hardison looked behind him, which in retrospect was notterrifically helpful, given that the closet door was closed. “I sure ashell hope not. What are you doing in here, anyway?”

“Waiting for you,” Parker said. “And goingthrough the pockets of all these coats.”

“Put back anything we don’t need,” Eliot said.

She made a face. “That goes against just abouteverything I was taught, you know.”

Hardison rolled his eyes. He loved them, he did, but rightnow he really didn’t have time for this. He kissed Parker on the cheek.“I’m meeting the mark in five minutes, and I can’t be late. I’ll see youlater, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she said, and hugged him hard.

Hardison poked his head out of the closet, made sure no one(and no camera) was watching, and coolly slid the rest of the way out to go onhis merry way.

He’d made it halfway down the hall when another door opened,and he was yanked backward into an empty storage room. Before he could make anoise of protest, someone was kissing him again.

And it was Eliot.

Hardison pulled back, dazed. “What. The hell.”

Eliot grinned at him, the asshole. “Didn’t want to beleft out. Now get out of here before you’re late.”

He shoved Hardison back into the hallway, and Hardison kindof wanted to strangle him.

“I’m never kissing either of you ever again,” hemuttered. “I mean it this time.”

“No, you don’t,” two voices said in his ear.

“Yeah, I do. You just wait and see.”

“I give it five minutes after we get home,” Eliot said.

“One minute,” said Parker.

“I’m meeting the mark now,” Hardison said. “And you’re both wrong.”

17. A Love Bite

Erica batted her eyelashes. “Please?”

Boyd laughed softly and kissed her cheek. “We heal,remember?”

She pouted. “But Derek says we can suppress our healingfor a little while, and I want to try.”

Boyd raised an eyebrow. “And this is how you want to try?”

Erica shrugged and glanced away. “Well, yes. I like the idea of you marking meup, babe. I think it’s sexy.”

Boyd touched her chin and gently pulled her back around tolook at him. “Is that the real reason?”

Her face heated, and Erica squirmed. They’d been togetherfor a while, and Boyd was an absolutely fantastic boyfriend, but there werestill some things she had trouble talking about, and teenage fantasies were oneof them. Sure, it was easy to put on confidence in front of the rest of thepack, but here, when it was just them, she had to let her walls down.

“I was always jealous of the girls who came to schoolwith hickeys,” she said in a rush.

She half-expected him to laugh, but Boyd didn’t. Instead, hejust regarded her with those deep brown eyes of his, silently telling her to goon.

“It was just like… someone liked them enough to do that,” Erica went on. “Theyeither bragged about having to cover it up or wore it like a badge, you know?‘I’m theirs, they’re mine.’ And I just… didn’t ever have that, and then I gotthe bite, and I just figured I wouldn’tever have that.”

It was stupid, really. Erica ducked her head.

“Okay,” Boyd said.

She snapped her head back up. “What?”

“Okay,” he repeated. “I don’t get it,exactly, but that doesn’t matter. It means something to you. So… okay.”

Erica threw her arms around him and buried her face in herneck. How she’d ended up with this man, she’d neverunderstand, but she’d be grateful for it every day. “I love you.”

Boyd hugged her back. “I love you, too.”

***

Erica sauntered into the next pack meeting with threehickeys on her neck and the biggest smile on her face.

Stiles stood near the door, arms crossed over his chest andhunching in on himself like that might protect his heart from breaking. Maybeif he looked pathetic enough, Derek wouldn’t leave.

But no. Derek dropped his duffel bag by the door andshrugged on his jacket. “I think that’s everything.”

Stiles swallowed over the lump in his throat. “You’rereally leaving.”

To his credit, Derek didn’t look very happy at the prospect,either. “I have to.”

Stiles kicked at the door frame. “You don’t have to.”

Derek walked over and rubbed Stiles’s arms.“I do if I want to keep my job. And it’s only for a month at most.”

“A month is a longtime.” Stiles sighed. “You might…I dunno, find some really hotEuropean person who convinces you to stay in Paris. Or Athens. Or—”

“And then I’ll have to break their heart because I’lltell them I have to come back home to you,” Derek said. “Because Iwill. I promise.”

The words twisted Stiles’s heart. That wasn’t somethingDerek could promise. Not with this kind of a job. “This one’s dangerous,though, isn’t it?”

Derek hesitated, just enough that Stiles knew he wasthinking about whether or not to downplay the seriousness of this mission.“It is,” he finally said.

He closed his eyes, so Derek wouldn’t see the tearsthreatening to fall. “Then you can’t promise you’ll come back safe,” hewhispered.

Derek cupped his cheek. “Stiles.”

Stiles didn’t open his eyes, but he lifted his face andDerek kissed him, gently and thoroughly. A choked sob escaped his throat, and Stileskissed him back hard, trying to memorize every minute of how it felt to kissDerek: the scrape of his beard, the softness of his lips, the taste of hismouth, the way he nipped at Stiles’s lips. Just in case this was the last time.He never wanted to forget it.

“I love you,” he said when they finally brokeapart for air.

Derek pressed their foreheads together. “I love you,too. And I will do everything in mypower to come back to you.”

Stiles tried to laugh. It sounded hollow. “You’dbetter.”

Derek opened his mouth to say something else, but a carhonked outside and he cursed. “Looks like my ride’s here.”

Stiles nodded. This was it. This was goodbye. He’d knownwhat he was getting into when they started dating, but it still didn’t make itany easier to see Derek jet off to parts unknown, with no idea whether he’deven make it back alive.

He cleared his throat and jerked his head at the door.“Go on, go off and save the world.”

Derek kissed Stiles’s forehead. “Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

Derek picked up his bag and opened the door, but paused atthe threshold. He looked back to Stiles, his pale eyes searching like there wasmore he wanted to say.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he finallysaid.

Stiles wondered if that was what he’d really wanted to say.“I hope so. That bed gets lonely without you.”

Derek smiled. “Then when I get back, we’ll have to makesure it’s not lonely anymore.”

With that, Derek left, and the door swung silently shut behindhim.

(Me: How in the hell am I going to get Lotor to where he sees Keith and Shiro?Season 4: *happens*Me: WELP.)

“You were going to do what?”

Keith took a deep breath and met Shiro’s furious gaze. “We needed to get through the cruiser’s shield, and none of us had the firepower to do it. We had to do something before Naxzela exploded!”

Shiro took a step forward. “And your solution was to ram it? With your own ship?”

Keith spared a glance across the room to glare at Matt, who winced and mouthed Sorry. It didn’t matter. Keith was going to kill him. He could make it look like an accident. 

“I didn’t have a lot of other options,” he said through gritted teeth. “We had to get through somehow. Otherwise we’d have lost the entire system!”

Otherwise, I’d have lost you, he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say. Voltron was fast, but there was no way it was fast enough to get away from an explosion of that size. Keith would have lost everyone he cared about in the blink of an eye.

He’d have lost Shiro. Again, and for good.

“What if it hadn’t worked?” Shiro shouted. “You would have thrown your life away, and for nothing!”

Keith flung his arm out. “What did you want me to do? Nothing? Because those were my choices! Sit there and watch while Haggar blows up a planet and destroys every hope we have of defeating the Galra, or try to stop it!”

“There had to have been another way that didn’t involve you dying!”  Shiro shouted.

“There was,” a new voice drawled. “Or have you boys forgotten the reason you’re even having your lover’s spat is because I flew in at the last minute to save the day?” 

Keith whirled around, the blood draining from his face. Lotor was still sitting in Pidge’s chair where they’d tied him up, smirking at both of them.

Keith had completely forgotten he was there.

Shiro drew back and frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

Lotor chuckled. “Surely your boyfriend didn’t try to take credit for me blowing a hole in that cruiser.”

“Boyfriend?!” Keith exclaimed, and head Shiro echo the word in the same tone of disbelief.

“Oh.” Lotor raised one white eyebrow. “Are you not?”

Keith’s heart hammered in his throat. He’d thought he was doing a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Lotor could tell…

“No, we aren’t,” Shiro said firmly.

“Hm. My mistake, then,” Lotor said. “A shame, though. You do make a very entertaining pair.”

Keith couldn’t take this for one minute longer. He spun on his heel and stalked off the bridge. “I’m heading to the training deck. Tell Pidge to call me when we start the debriefing.”

He heard Shiro call his name, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back.

***

Either the gladiators weren’t as hard as he remembered, or Keith had gotten a lot stronger fighting with the Blades, because he tore through the first four training levels in less than five minutes. It gave him something to focus on, gave him a way to work out his anger and frustrations, but right now even fighting wasn’t enough to wipe away the way Shiro had sounded when he’d said no.

No, we aren’t.

It was true. They weren’t.

But the finality in his voice…

Keith rammed his sword through the next robot to come at him. It fell to the ground, sparking.

His eyes stung, and he swiped at them angrily. “End program.”

The door to the training room whooshed open, and Shiro walked in.

Keith turned his back so that Shiro couldn’t see that he’d been crying. “I told you to have Pidge call me.”

“Keith,” Shiro said softly. “You would have been killed if Lotor hadn’t shown up. We’d have lost you.” There was a beat, and then, “I’d have lost you.”

Keith’s heart twisted, and he shoved his knife back in its sheath. “Voltron couldn’t have escaped that explosion. If I hadn’t done something, we’d have lost everything!”

“Keith–”

Keith spun around and cut him off. “I had to do something!”

“Dying shouldn’t have been it!” Shiro shouted. “How could you think that? There had to have been another way. There had to have been…” He closed his eyes and trailed off, turning away. “You have to know how much you mean to me.”

“Do I?” Keith asked, and he couldn’t keep the tremor out of his voice.

Shiro looked back at him then, so broken and vulnerable that it was gutting.

Oh, Keith thought distantly. He’d always assumed his feelings were one-sided, had always assumed there was no way Shiro could care as much about him as he did about Shiro.

Apparently that assumption had been wrong.

He took two steps forward, uncertain, trying to gauge how he’d be received. Shiro grabbed his hand and hauled him into a hug, hard, and stifled a sob in his ear. Keith hugged him back, pressing his face into Shiro’s chest and trying not to break down.

“I can’t lose you,” Shiro whispered. “I need you, Keith, I need to know you’re okay, even if I can’t be with you, I need–”

“I need you, too,” Keith said, his throat tight. “I thought you were mad at me for leaving, I thought you didn’t need me anymore–”

Shiro’s arms tightened around him. “God, Keith, no. I thought that was what you wanted. I thought you were mad at me, and I didn’t want to force you to stay. I was trying to be supportive. Did you not want to go?”

“I did,” Keith admitted. “The work is important, and I hate parades. But…I wanted you to want me to stay.” 

“I did.” Shiro pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I do. It kills me when you’re not here.”

Keith closed his eyes. “It kills me not to be with you.”

Shiro sighed. It sounded a little wet. “I should’ve said something ages ago, but it never seemed the right time. But when Matt told me what you’d done, I just…I had no idea how close I’d come to losing you and it scared me to death.”

Hot tears pricked at the corners of Keith’s eyes. “I couldn’t think of anything else. I had to do something.”

“I know, but God, Keith…you’re irreplaceable.”

Keith laughed hollowly. “Voltron replaced me pretty easily.”

Shiro pulled back and cupped his face, his grey eyes burning with a determination Keith had only rarely seen. “You. Are irreplaceable. To me.”

Keith could only stare back at him. He’d had no idea. Sure, Shiro was irreplaceable to him, Shiro was the one who never gave up on him, who believed in him, who never walked away from him. He’d never thought he might have been the same thing to Shiro.

“Keith–” Shiro started.

The comms crackled on. “Shiro, Keith,” Pidge said. “We need you for debriefing.”

Keith gritted his teeth so he wouldn’t yell at her.

Shiro actually groaned, soft enough that only Keith could hear. “We’ll be right there, Pidge.”

Keith wrapped his hands around Shiro’s wrists. “Talk later?” he asked.

Shiro’s face softened into a small smile, and he nodded. “Later. Come on, let’s go debrief.”

Keith took Shiro’s hands from his face and threaded their fingers together, and let Shiro pull him from the room.