#sb2018

Stiles hums thoughtfully after a moment and pulls himself to his feet. Derek can’t help but be disappointed. Sure he was the one to tell Stiles to leave, but part of him didn’t think he would actually go.

“Come on, Derek,” Stiles says, holding out his hand to help him up.

All Derek can do is blink at him. “Where are we going?”

Glancing back at his door, Stiles smiles. “To kill a spider. I would go myself, but that feels like an invasion of privacy. Besides, I would have no idea where to even look for it.”

Hope blooms in his chest. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course. What are friendly next-door neighbors for if not to share fears and kill spiders.” He heft’s Derek up to his feet, and gestures to the door. “Alright, let’s do this!”

Derek rolls his eyes at Stiles’ exuberance, but his energy is infectious. Despite his earlier fear, Derek wants to laugh with him, as if standing so close to his sun has caught him on fire. He takes the lead, pushing into his apartment feeling pretty good.

And then he catches sight of the spider, still exploring his television stand, and promptly his hands start shaking. Stiles notices his change in demeanor, and peers over his shoulder, trying to find the threat. As soon as he finds what he’s looking for, he pushes around where Derek is frozen, lets himself into the kitchen and returns with the roll of paper towels and a determined expression.

Derek doesn’t want to watch as Stiles approaches the spider, so he turns and retreats into the kitchen, distracting himself by getting the kettle ready to make some tea. It’s not long before Stiles is joining him, a wad of paper towels pressed between his fingers. “Where’s your trash can,” he asks, holding his hand away from his chest.

“Under the sink,” he directs, turning back to put the kettle on the stove. He listens while Stiles gets rid of the paper towels and washes his hands, and then the energy around them shifts into something more awkward.

“Well I guess I should-,” Stiles starts to say, just as Derek asks, “Would you like some tea?” They blink at each over for a moment, before Stiles shakes his head and laughs. “I would love that,” he says, voice soft. It makes Derek preen a little, pleased with the response.

“You can make yourself at home, if you’d like. It will only take me a few minutes to finish this up.”

It’s all the permission that Stiles needs to snoop around, but instead of moving into the living room like Derek expects, Stiles moves around the counter and settles into a seat at the bar so that he can still see Derek.

“You know,” he begins, after a moment of drawn out silence. “I’ve always been terrified of jellyfish.” Derek glances back at him, and Stiles smiles. “They’ve always freaked me out. When I was in elementary school, they showed us this ocean documentary, and there was a whole section in it about them. I cried so hard that they had to call my mom to come and pick me up.”

Derek smiles at him, enjoying the way that he’s trying to make him feel better. “I bet you don’t run into very many jellyfish in your everyday life though.”

He shrugs, over exaggerated. “You don’t know, I might be a marine biologist forced to confront his fear everyday he goes to work.”

The kettle whistles, and Derek busies himself getting their mugs ready. He puts everything on the counter between them. “Are you a marine biologist, Stiles?”

They stare at each other, Stiles’ expression hard to read, before he cracks. “No. But it would be cool, wouldn’t it! Instead I’m just a boring software engineer.”

Derek smirks while he pours cream in his tea, glancing up at him through his eyelashes. “And do you come across many jellyfish in your field?”

Stiles snorts. “I feel like we were having a moment here, bonding over fears and stuff, and now you’re ruining it with all your snarky questions. I’ll have you know, even if I don’t work around jellyfish, I did see one stranded on the beach once, so you know, same difference.” When the statement makes Derek laugh, Stiles puffs up with pride. They’ve interacted before obviously, it would be hard to live next to someone for over a year without talking to them, but this is the longest that they’ve talked. Derek can’t help but be pleased by how easy it seems to hang out with Stiles though, can’t help but dwell on the fact that they seem to have similar personalities.

“You know, I have a question of my own for you, buddy.” Stiles sips at his tea before continuing, letting the pause in conversation build suspense. “How is it that you’re afraid of spiders. I mean, I know that everyone has their own fears, and that they don’t always make sense, but you’re a Hale. I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”

Derek’s body locks up automatically. Stiles, who’s too observant not to notice the change in his body language, looks thoughtful. “Unless you’re not one of those Hales, in which case I’m sure that this conversation is very confusing for you.”

“How did you-? What are you-?” He scents the air, not caring that it isn’t something that humans do when they’re trying to figure something out. It obviously doesn’t matter anyway, seeing as Stiles must already know what he is. His scent is crisp and refreshing, green apples and the wind through open fields. It’s citrusy and compelling and entirely human. “What do you mean about me being one of those Hales,” he finally asks, just barely managing not to blurt out his real question: how do you know what I am?

Stiles laughs. “Dude, calm down. Your mom is kind of a big deal. I knew as soon as you introduced yourself to me who you were and that you’re a werewolf. My best friend was turned in college, and it’s safe to say that your mom was one of the first people that we were introduced to when we were still figuring everything out. You look like her you know: strong, confident, way too beautiful to be human.”

There are obviously several things that Derek should address from his explanation, but the only thing that matters to him right then is, “You think I’m beautiful?”

He sips at his tea, golden eyes never leaving Derek’s. “I know you are,” he says finally, as though it’s a fact he’s known for years.

And it sends Derek reeling. Sure, he knows what he looks like, and there has always been someone nearby willing to let him know just how appealing he is. But at the same time, “I’ve never been called beautiful before.” The word makes him feel shy and small in a way that he’s not used to, like he might be something to cherish. His wolf prances at the thought that maybe Stiles might want to be the one to cherish him.

Stiles looks surprised for a moment before his expressions turns sly. “Well I’m glad that I was able to be the first to tell you then,” he says, voice a purr. The change in his tone makes Derek shiver. The energy in the room shifts, turning into something electric.

Stiles moves his tea and reaches his hand across the counter, moving slowly enough that Derek can see his intention and would have plenty of time to move away if it wasn’t something he wanted to happen. As he moves his hand, Stiles’ eyes never leave Derek’s face, and when Derek doesn’t pull back, he beams and slots his fingers with Derek’s as best he can at the awkward angle.

“And I’m glad that there was a spider in your house. You may be terrified of them, but I have never been happier that one found its way inside.”

Derek scoffs at him and frowns. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re not afraid of them.”

He brings a hand up to his chest and gasps, over dramatic. “What? Are you saying that you’re not happy that you were forced to sit in the hallway where I found you and daringly came to your rescue? Because if that’s the case, I would like my hand back please.” He gives his hand a halfhearted tug, and Derek holds fast to his fingers.

He’s laughing when he admits honestly, “I’m happy that it was you who found me in the hallway.”

“Good. Because I’m really liking this hand holding. Hey, maybe another spider will show up so that I can stay.”

Derek rolls his eyes, trying not to shudder at the thought of stumbling upon another spider. “Or you could stay without the spider. That seems like a much better plan to me.”

Stiles smiles, big and bright, squeezing their fingers. “Me too.”