#stereklyrics3

Derek tries to think of something he did or said since he’d incredulously looked up to see Stiles in an FBI vest of all things rush into the warehouse along with a dozen agents, but Derek hadn’t even really been injured. He’d taken a few blows to the head, but they’d been relatively minor compared to what he was used to and he’d healed almost instantly. He’d barely even bled. And he’d gone along with whatever lie Stiles had come up with to get them out of the situation without either of them getting arrested. Stiles had even managed to cajole the head agent into writing him a recommendation later.

They can’t make as good time as Derek would like. Stiles’ right foot is injured, and while he could probably still drive in a pinch, Derek doesn’t want to make him do so if for no other reason than he doesn’t like to see Stiles in pain if he doesn’t have to. He’d tried to tease Stiles about it being a minor injury back when an EMT had been bandaging it, but Stiles hadn’t taken the bait, instead had turned back to charming the EMT. Derek had stalked off. It was immature, but he knew he had no right to feel jealous, so he’d made himself leave, even if he’d stayed where he could still see Stiles.

He drives for almost fifteen hours, making it to just outside Kansas City. They’d stopped only for gas and the bathroom, eating crappy gas station junk food that Stiles hadn’t even complained about. Derek springs for a genuine hotel room, not some crappy motel. He has the money and he thinks after the day (week, year, life) Stiles has had, he deserves to sleep somewhere clean and nice. He only gets one room. Even if Stiles is mad at him, and even if Derek is pretty sure they haven’t been followed here, he’ll only be able to sleep if he can keep Stiles close, and safe.

Stiles at least lets Derek help him hobble up to their room on the fourth floor. He lets Derek herd him over to the bed by the bathroom, so Derek can take the bed that will put him between Stiles and the door. They shower, and Stiles at least deigns to tell him what he wants to dinner when Derek orders room service. They eat in silence and don’t turn on the tv. It’s late, and Derek’s exhausted from driving and imagines Stiles is probably tired from the raid and the pain as well, so they get ready for bed quickly, moving around each other in an effortless routine, before climbing into bed. Something in Derek’s chest aches as he looks over and sees Stiles turn away from him. He turns out the light.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Stiles says finally, into the darkness.

“It’s not exactly my fault that hunters were after me, or that the FBI picked it up,” Derek replies quietly. He’s lying on his back and keeps himself from looking over at Stiles.

“No, not that,” Stiles huffs angrily. “I know your life is always going to be a shitshow. Mine is too. I understand that. That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Derek asks. Stiles is silent for a while, but Derek doesn’t push. He knows sometimes you have to let Stiles gather his thoughts and find his words in his own time.

“You keep leaving,” Stiles says. “And I know why. I understand it. I think it’s good. You’ve been so much healthier, happier, since you left Beacon Hills. I get it. Beacon Hills is poison. You should leave Beacon Hills. Everyone should leave Beacon Hills and they should burn it down behind them.”

“Okay so…” Derek isn’t sure what he’s getting at. He lets himself shift to his side so he can stare at the back of Stiles’ head in the darkness. Stiles still has his back to him, and the air has the faintest hint of salt to it, like Stiles is holding back tears.

“Every time you leave you say that’s it,” Stiles says. He sniffs and his eyes must have welled up because now there’s a burst of sorrow and frustration. “You say so long, this is it I’m leaving forever. And you leave the keys to your loft behind and you change your phone number and you leave. And I deal with it. And then you fucking come back.”

“I didn’t come back this time,” Derek points out. “You found me. That time in Mexico too, you were the one to find me and bring me back.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Stiles says. He finally turns, sitting up and leaning against the backboard of the bed. “I found you. I found you back then because you needed me to, and I found you now even though I wasn’t even freaking looking for you. I tried to move on. I left Beacon Hills myself, I thought hey, fresh start, Derek said he was leaving forever, maybe it’s time that I do too. And then the first day, the first day of my internship, not five minutes in to our first lecture and who do you think they show video of.”

“Me,” Derek says.

“You,” Stiles sighs. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“So you want me to...leave?” Derek guesses.

“Christ, have you even been listening to me?” Stiles says. Derek lets himself get up and walks over to sit next to Stiles. Stiles flinches slightly, but doesn’t tell him to move. “You tell me you’re leaving me forever, and every time I have to deal with it like it’s the truth. Every time I have to get over you like I’m never going to see you again. And then I do see you again. Over and over and over, and when you’re back it’s like you never left. And then you leave again. Okay, do you understand what I’m saying? Derek, if you say you’re leaving forever one more time, I swear to god I will…”

“Okay,” Derek says, catching Stiles’ gesturing hand in his. They’ve touched each other hundreds of times probably. In anger, in sorrow, occasionally in enthusiasm or happiness. Never like this though, just the two of them in the intimate dark, a moment of safety and warmth. “Okay.”

“You finally get it now?” Stiles asks, his voice quiet in the inches between them. Derek isn’t sure which of them started to lean forward. Maybe both of them.

“I won’t leave again,” Derek says. “I can stay in Beacon Hills.”

“I meant it when I said Beacon Hills was poison,” Stiles says. “I know we’re going back there now to help out, but you staying there is not the solution I was going for.”

“Okay,” Derek says, smiling now because he finally gets it. He does. “So while you’re there, I’ll stay in Beacon Hills. And when I leave I’ll take you with me. And if we ever have to go our separate ways for a while, I promise, Stiles, I promise I’ll always come back. I’ll always come back to you.”

“That’s it,” Stiles murmurs. He leans forward and Derek meets him halfway. It’s a lot more gentle than Derek had imagined their first kiss would be. Derek lets himself trail a line of kisses down the beauty marks on Stiles’ cheeks, on his neck, grateful that he can see them even in the dim room. Stiles lets out a groan that’s half pleasure, half frustration.

“I would love to take this further, but neither of us have slept in like thirty-six hours, and we still have a lot of driving to do tomorrow,” Stiles murmurs, and Derek leans his head against Stiles’ shoulder.

~*~

Hey, I just met you and this is crazy...

“But here’s my number, so call me maybe,” Derek says through clenched teeth and the barista laughs at him.

“I don’t go for jailbait, kid, but here’s your coffee and call me maybe in five years,” he says and Derek snatches his coffee and hurries out of the café with his face burning hotly.

This stupid song has been stuck in his head for weeks, thanks to everyone and their mother - including his soulmate - singing it. Mostly Derek has been able to ignore the urge to sing along - other than proximity, enthusiasm is the most important factor when it comes to soulsongs. If you just hum a song under your breath, your soulmate probably won’t even hear it. If you sing along to something on the radio and are separated by a couple of blocks, your soulmate is probably going to hear it and be filled with a slight urge to sing along, but that urge is nothing you can’t resist. But just as the urge gets stronger the closer two soulmates are, it also grows with the enthusiasm of the singer. So for Derek not being able to resist the push of the soulsong, his soulmate has to be either around the corner or belting out Carly Rae Jepsen as if his life depends on it.

Yes, his. Derek can’t know for sure until he meets him, but occasionally he can hear an actual voice singing their soulsong and he’s pretty sure it’s male. Laura’s romance novels - which Derek reads for research, really! - always read that as a sign for an especially strong connection, but Derek isn’t sure how reliable they really are. An awful lot of Lairds and Ladies discover that their soulmate has been the stable boy all along in those novels, and that just doesn’t seem statistically probable. But still, Derek’s soulmate is almost definitely male and quite probably near him singing Carly Rae Jepsen.

So Derek quickly looks around to make sure no one is near him and then starts singing himself:

“Shut up, just shut up, shut up!”

Singing a Black Eyed Peas song that will have him declare himself “crazayyyyy for tryin’ to be your ladyyyy” in just a few lines might not be the best choice, but Derek hopes that it’ll get his opinion on Carly Rae Jepsen’s telephone struggles across nevertheless.

~*~

Would you know my name, if I saw you in heaven. Will it be the same, if I saw you in heaven …

Derek bites his lip and looks around automatically, hoping to see someone singing Eric Clapton, but everyone seems to be deep in conversation with someone else. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees one of Cora’s classmates leave the cafeteria, but he’s gone too quickly for Derek to check whether he might have been singing.

His soulmate had sounded so sad and while he’s mostly been a giant pain in Derek’s ass so far, he feels as though he has to do something to help. That’s hard to do without knowing what’s wrong, though, or even what’s wrong with whom, as he’s still no closer to finding out who his soulmate is. There’s no way to comfort his soulmate physically, but there’s one thing Derek can do:

“Don't give up 'Cause you have friends. Don't give up You're not beaten yet. Don't give up I know you can make it good.”

~*~

Took her bowling in the arcade We went strolling, drank lemonade...

Laura has declared the week ‘Grease week’ and it’s all they’ve been watching and listening to for three days and Derek doesn’t even mind. Summer Nights in particular has been stuck in his head and he’s singing it under his breath on his cooling down walk home after his daily run through the preserve. As he’s alone he’s doing both parts to the best of his ability, but when he sings the next lines, a different voice answers him.

“We made out under the dock-” Derek sings and the new voice continues:

“- we stayed out 'til ten o'clock. Summer fling, don't mean a thing, But ah, oh, those summer nights.”

Derek whirls around and sees a guy who looks vaguely familiar. He’s got messy brown hair, laughing light brown eyes, and dark moles scattered all over his pale skin. Derek is pretty sure he’s one of Cora’s classmates. He thinks he knows him actually - it’s Sheriff Stilinski’s son, if Derek is not mistaken, Stiles.

“Dude, Grease!” Stiles says, grinning widely, and Derek automatically retorts: “Don’t call me ‘Dude’.”

“What should I call you then?” Stiles asks, unperturbed, and Derek suddenly develops a coughing fit because - was that flirting? It’s not unheard of - they are not the Victorians after all, obsessed with keeping all contact between anyone but mates or family to a very decorous minimum. There’s no guarantee to hear your soulsong and find your soulmate, so of course people flirt, hoping to find a partner nevertheless. But Derek has been hearing his soulsong for most of his life, and it just hadn’t felt right to go look for anyone but his soulmate. So he’d just awkwardly glowered whenever someone had tried to approach him and eventually people stopped trying. But that means his first hand knowledge of flirting comes from Laura’s romance novels and again, Lairds and Ladies are not the most realistic example to model your experiences on. So Derek just offers his names slightly hesitantly:

“Derek? I mean, I’m Derek, Derek Hale.”

“Oh, you are Cora’s brother!” Stiles exclaims and sticks his hand out for a fist bump that Derek returns, increasingly bewildered. “I’m Stiles, Stiles Stilinski, and we should totally sing Grease together!”

Derek manages to hold back the automatic “I know” in reaction to Stiles offering his name, but instead he blurts: “We should?” which really isn’t much smoother.

“Yes, we should!” Stiles insist and starts: “Summer lovin’ had me a blast-”

He looks at Derek expectantly and Derek just can’t resist those puppy dog eyes (and the insistent voice in the back of his head saying how familiar Stiles’ voice sounds despite Derek never having heard it before): “Summer lovin’, happened so fast-”

Stiles cheers and continues with a wink: “I met a boy crazy for me-”

Derek can feel his cheeks growing hot and his voice is slightly hoarse on the next line: “I met a boy, cute as can be-”

This time it’s Stiles’ turn to blush and duck his head and Derek’s voice comes steadier again as they join up on the next lines:

Summer days driftin' away, To uh - oh those summer nights…

~*~

I'm walking on sunshine (Wow!) And don't it feel good!

“So happy, dear bro?” Laura sticks her head into Derek’s room with a grin and laughs when Derek falls off his bed. He’d been jumping around and singing along with his soulmate until Laura interrupted him and not even lying on his back like a turtle can wipe the grin off his face. His soulmate has been happy, happier than happy, singing joyful songs in a voice that is feeling more familiar every day.

Derek has been spending more time with Stiles lately, Stiles joining him on his daily runs regularly, but also seeking out Derek in school for lunch or in between classes. He is always singing, an eclectic mix of Disney songs and eighties power ballads and whatever's top of the charts right now. Derek mostly rolls his eyes at Stiles’ antics (it comes without saying that Stiles’ renditions always have to include a full blown choreography), but sometimes he retaliates with musical theatre, symphonic metal, and on one very memorable occasion with a perfect rendition of the fresh Prince of Bel Air.

That night his soulsong is full of kings and princes and thrones and “chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool” and Derek just knows who his soulmate is, but at the same time he doesn’t know. Not for sure. It might all still be a remarkable coincidence. Not very likely, but possible and Derek can’t take the chance. So he’s going to - as Laura likes to tell him - put on his big boy pants and sing his soulsong and hope it’ll be answered. Tomorrow. Tonight he’s going to sing happy songs in his room and hope his soulmate hears them, too.

Because I’m happy …

~*~

I got chills they're multiplying And I'm losing control 'Cause the power you're supplying It's electrifying…

Derek is in the forest, waiting for Stiles, and singing his soulsong. There’s a difference between simply singing and singing your soulsong. The latter depends on intent and belief and hope. The intent to promise yourself to another, the belief that you’ve found them, and the hope that they feel the same. Singing your soulsong gives your soulmate a choice: to accept or to reject - but ignoring it is not an option. So Derek hopes to hear his soulsong returned - by Stiles of course.

“You better shape up, 'cause I need a man And my heart is set on you You better shape up, you better understand To my heart I must be true-”

Stiles does not just sing the next lines - Stiles does all the jumps and twirls and shimmies Sandy does and even a cops a feel. There’s a pronounced blush on his cheeks, but it seems to have been caused by delight rather than anger, and Derek feels the ball of icy anxiety in his belly melt. His soulmate is Stiles, that much is clear, the only thing that remains in question is what Stiles’ answer is going to be. But Derek has a hunch what it might be:

“Nothing left, nothing left for me to do-”

Stiles winks and sings one last line:

“You're the one that I want!”

Then he throws himself at Derek in an exuberant hug that sends them both to the forest floor. The impact knocks the breath out of Derek but Stiles’ face close to his, bright with joy and framed by leaves caught in his hair, more than makes up for it. Stiles settles in more comfortably on top of Derek and grins down at him. Derek swallows and asks, still slightly breathless:

“Is that your answer?”

Stiles smirks and whispers:

“You are the one I want, Derek Hale.”

And then he ducks his head down for a kiss that first knocks their teeth together painfully, but gentles when Derek curves one hand around the back of Stiles’ head and slightly tugs until their mouths fit together perfectly. Stiles sinks more heavily into Derek’s embrace and Derek wraps his other arm around Stiles’ waist securely and loses himself in the kiss.

In his head, their soulsong continues:

Oo-oo-oo, honey The one that I want You are the one I want