In love with the idea of Stiles and Derek developing feelings for each other years after the show ends.
Given their chaotic past, there hasnāt been a slow enough moment for them to actually share until now. The circumstances havenāt been just right.
But the best thing about sterek for me is the POTENTIAL for a relationship to develop. The underlying framework for a delicious chemical reaction - given the right circumstances. Like, thatās what most people miss. They think ya just take two hot specimen and throw them together in a scene and - //no//.
Itās these two characters specifically, these specific personalities and histories, in this universe or any other.
But weāre talking about their universe. How would that happen?
Slowly, at first.
Derek hasnāt moved back to Beacon Hills. He probably never will. In my head itās not the type of place he wants to remember, a graveyard of family members and mistakes.
And with Stilesā new career in the FBI, he isnāt involved enough in werewolf affairs to run into Derek again until years later.
When he does, itās because of a fed bust. But itās not Derek who theyāre busting, itās Derek theyāre saving. They bring him into protective custody and the entire ride is hilarious because itās obvious by Derekās face that he hadnāt needed saving.
At this point there are an infinite number of directions for their story to take, but for funsies letās pretend that Derek is placed into witness protection and Stiles is charged with guarding him.
(((Of course weād need the obligatory scene that reveals there is so much more going on than either of them know, and theyāll have to work together to overcome their newest adversary. But thatās plot and I donāt want to talk plot.)))
Stiles drives Derek to a safe house directly after heās given the order to protect him and itās not an awkward ride, itās an effortless one.
Weirdly enough, Stiles missed Derek.
And even though Derek is clearly annoyed by the sequence of events leading up to this point, the years have softened him and heās not so highstrung.
He rests his arm on the rolled-down window as Stiles drives them to their beach house hideout, resigned to his fate, a coastal breeze swimming through the fabric of his shirt.
And from there itās the moments in the early mornings when nothing but Stiles is awake, not even the house. The skies are white over the hushing waves outside, foggy light falling through bay windows into the kitchen where Stilesā hand is wrapped limply around a steaming cup of coffee.
He always gets up early - because of his overzealous sense of duty or because he canāt sleep, Derek doesnāt know. But thereās a creaky floorboard right outside his door that Stiles has to pass to get to the kitchen in the mornings, and after the first week, the noise transforms into his alarm clock.
He tucks himself into his clothes, hair ruffled and face stubbled, and slinks out of his room to join Stiles at the table.
And Stiles asks, āDo you want some coffee?ā and rises to pour him a cup when he says yes.
By the second week, a cup of coffee is there waiting for Derek every morning.
And it only starts there, blossoming through all the little moments.
When Derek wades unbothered into the freezing California ocean, body glistening in the winter sun, looking otherworldly and invincible, Stiles watching over the rim of his sunglasses from the warmth of the patio.
When Stiles cooks for Derek at night, dish towel thrown over his shoulder, feet bare against the hardwood floor, sprinkling this and that before bringing the wooden spoon to his lips to taste - and smiling victoriously, like heās cracked the code.
When they catch each other in the small vulnerabilities of domesticated life: Derek finding Stiles asleep; Stiles catching a glimpse of Derek turning the corner in only a towel; the sound of Stilesā surprised laughter when Derek says something unexpectedly funny.
The way that their eyes always find their way back to each other, whether from across the room or across the beach.
Yeah.
In love with that concept.
