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It was strange to feel anxiety about something so ridiculously simple and stupid. Anyone else would’ve been able to grab their mouse, move the cursor over to the ‘OK’ button, click it, and move on with their day. It shouldn’t have been so fucking hard to do such a simple action, and it shouldn’t be filling him with dread at the mere thought of it.
But other people didn’t get invited to their abusive ex-girlfriend’s wedding, so he felt like he was entitled to a little bit of discomfort and anxiety on the matter. He was pretty sure if he posted a poll online asking how many people had encountered this, the percentage would be pretty low. Not completely non-existent, but under five percent, for sure.
He knew he didn’t have to do this. It wasn’t like someone was holding a gun to his head, or twisting his arm, or even threatening him. He knew this was entirely his own decision and he could ignore the invite and move on with his life, but a part of him didn’t want to.
It felt like admitting defeat. He knew how that would be perceived, and while he shouldn’t care what his horrible ex thought of him, a part of him wanted to be able to prove to her that everything she’d ever said about him was wrong.
Breaking up with her hadn’t ruined his life, it had been the best decision he’d ever made. Sure, it had been difficult, and his friends had been pushing for it for a long time, but it still felt so gratifying to finally be free of her. She hadn’t been a kind person to him, and most of the time, he wasn’t sure why she wanted to date him to begin with.
She’d always talked down to him, treated him poorly, and often commented on how he was less because he was a Werewolf and she came from a family that descended from Hunters. Overall, they were a horrible match, and he should’ve known better.
But she was so charming and fun when they’d first met, which was likely the overall problem and why it had taken him so long to realize the woman he’d fallen for wasn’t coming back. He kept hoping beyond hope that she would just go back to what she was like when they’d first started dating. Maybe if he changed himself, or if he tried harder, she’d stop being so awful to him.
That was the child in him talking though, because when he’d started dating Kate Argent in university, she was twenty-five and working in the administration building, and he was only a fresh-out-of-high-school nineteen year old. It was so easy to get sucked in by an older woman, with experience and the knowledge of saying just the right thing to get him to fall, and fall hard.
They’d dated for two years, the first few months being the best of his life, before the amazing woman he was head over heels for had turned into a veritable monster. He honestly didn’t think he’d have escaped her if his best friend hadn’t flown across the country to his school and staged an in-person intervention. That had only resulted in him being a wreck for almost a month, especially since his ex wouldn’t stop harassing him and borderline stalking him.
His best friend had stayed with him for the most part, but hadn’t known how to help him through his messed up feelings. And that was where the love of his life came into the picture.
Because his best friend called in the cavalry and three more people showed up to help piece his fucked up and broken psyche back together. It was amazing what one horrible relationship could do to a person and he never, ever wanted to experience that again. Once was more than enough, and trying to get himself back into a good place after that psychological damage wasn’t something he was eager to repeat.
And yet... here he was. Sitting at his computer, staring at the little confirmation box that would send off his acknowledgement of attendance.
He shouldn’t. Nothing good would come of this, and he knew it. The chances of this backfiring were at one-hundred percent, but a small part of him wanted to stick it to Kate Argent. He wanted to be able to show up at the wedding, standing tall and confident and proud of his achievements in life.
He wanted to give Kate Argent the metaphorical middle finger and prove to her that everything she’d said about him was wrong. He’d made it through life just fine without her, and he was thriving. He had a good job that was slowly turning into a career, he owned his own place, he had amazing friends, and he was happy with where he was in life. Things were good, great even. And he wanted to be able to show her that.
To show her that her getting married didn’t bother him at all because he’d long ago stopped even thinking about her. To show her that he was making good money, and he was doing really well, and he was successful. To show her that being a Werewolf wasn’t a fucking detriment like she kept insisting it was and that most people didn’t care if he was human or not.
Derek Hale scowled at his computer angrily, and then forced himself to grab the mouse, jerked it across the mousepad so the cursor shot across the screen, and submitted his confirmation of attendance. A large ‘thank you’ banner flashed across the screen, followed by a link to their gift registry. Right, gifts.
Whatever, it was in the email he’d received with the invite as well, he could look into that later. He wasn’t going to browse through it now, he needed to psych himself up for it. He was planning on buying an expensive gift for her from the registry, not because he wanted to, but because it would prove he was financially successful. And yes, she’d be benefiting from it, considering he’d be buying her something nice, but he was also borderline more interested in being petty about it. He’d just make sure to buy whatever she wanted in the most hideous style or colour he could find for it. After all, she’d been so fucking awful to him, he wanted the ability to shove her rude words right back in her face.
He was still staring at the banner on his screen when he heard a knock at his door and jumped. He didn’t often get startled, considering his hearing, but obviously this whole thing was messing with him pretty badly if he’d missed someone showing up, entering his building, and reaching the actual loft door.
Shaking the feeling off, he pushed away from his desk and got to his feet, hurrying to the door and pulling it open to admit two people who meant the world to him.
“I brought pie,” Erica Reyes sing-songed, holding up a rather pathetic-looking pie. Derek was glad he couldn’t get food poisoning, because he was sure if any of his human friends were here tonight, they’d have excused themselves from having any dessert.
“Looks... interesting,” he offered. He’d seen Erica’s ire at not being praised for her baking, and he didn’t want to unleash the beast.
She grinned at him, eyes flashing Beta gold while moving past him, calling back that she was going to put it in the fridge. Derek didn’t think the fridge could save whatever the hell that was, but he didn’t say anything.
Which was probably a good thing for his own personal well-being.
Her boyfriend Vernon Boyd looked defeated as he walked through the doorway, and Derek almost pitied him because he knew Boyd was the first person to be subjected to Erica’s baking. And he didn’t even have the option of refusing because she would ask why, and it wasn’t like Boyd would lie. He was too honourable for that.
He just suffered in silence and presumably prayed for the day Erica either got bored of baking or actually managed to succeed at it.
Shutting the door behind his friend, he followed after him towards the living area while Erica did God knew what in his kitchen. It definitely wasn’t just putting a pie in the fridge, because it sounded like she was opening every cupboard he owned. Which made no sense if she was looking for a drink or anything, because she’d been there enough times to know where everything was.
“What are you doing in there?” he asked, head turned towards the kitchen while he stood beside the couch Boyd had fallen onto.
“Checking to see if your taste in dishware’s improved.”
Derek didn’t even know what to say to that, and when he turned to Boyd, his friend just looked defeated again and shook his head in a, “you don’t want to know,” sort of way.
“New obsession?” he asked sympathetically.
“We have five different sets of dishware in the house right now,” Boyd informed him. “She wants a set for every occasion.”
“It should be a thing!” Erica insisted, coming out of the kitchen and headed towards them. “There should be a requirement for different dishware depending on time of day! Mornings should be like, pale yellow and sunflowery and cute. Like a fun introduction to the day.”
“You remember Derek is a terrifying monster first thing in the morning, right?” Boyd asked her, arching an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest. “Have you forgotten high school, because I haven’t. His morning dishware would be black, and may or may not include bloodstains because God help whoever wakes him up from his REM cycle.”
“I’m not that bad,” Derek said, but without much conviction. He could admit to being a horrible person first thing in the morning. If someone tried to talk to him before his coffee, it was at their own risk.
In fact, the love of his life had actually bought him a mug one year that proclaimed, “I don’t like morning people. Or mornings. Or people.” Derek had seen it around on the internet a lot and felt it accurately represented him, so finding out there was an unspoken agreement amongst his friends was pretty funny.
But fuck did he ever hate mornings. He didn’t understand morning people. Who was happy to wake up and climb out of a warm, comfy bed to start their day? Derek loved his job, but he’d never leap out of bed like a Disney princess, ready and eager to start the day. Those people were just weird.
When Boyd asked Derek how his most recent project at work was going, he relaxed back onto the couch beside his friend and was more than happy to discuss its progress. It was his first major solo assignment and while he was a little nervous about it, his boss had been really supportive and Derek was eager to prove himself.
It wasn’t a particularly long conversation, but only because it was still in the early stages of the project, and Derek didn’t have much to talk about yet. Besides, dinner was already set to go, it just needed to be heated up—Derek went to preheat the oven during a brief pause in conversation—and then they could eat.
After about half an hour of catch-up, which in itself was already a lot considering they spoke almost daily, Derek went to the kitchen to put the lasagna into the oven and set a timer for five minutes. It was already fully cooked and just needed to be heated up, so five minutes should be more than enough.
He was still in the process of setting the timer on his stove when Erica’s voice floated through the loft and he froze.
“Oh hey, is someone getting married? Whose wedding is this for?”
Fuck. He’d forgotten to close out of the RSVP website! And he couldn’t even fault Erica for snooping, because it wasn’t like it was hard to miss the giant ‘thank you’ banner and the gift registry link. Shit, he’d gotten distracted once they’d knocked on his door and hadn’t closed it.
He didn’t want his friends to know about this! Boyd would probably have flashbacks to flying across the country to help Derek break up with Kate, and they were without a shadow of a doubt going to tell the person who’d dropped everything to piece him back together all those years ago.
That person being the love of his life, Stiles Stilinski.
Before he could even think of deflecting or trying to change the topic or anything, he heard Erica speak again, and her voice was a low growl as she asked, “What the actual fuck?”
She’d seen the names.
She’d realized the names of the bride and groom were at the top of the page, and was now well aware of who this wedding invitation was from. And worse, she could see that Derek had RSVP’d. She could see clear as day that, upon being asked if he would be attending, Derek had fucking said yes.
“Derek!”
How did Erica sound the same as his mother when she reprimanded him? That didn’t seem like it should be possible, but Derek’s first instinct at the sound of Erica’s shrill voice was to tilt his head and offer his neck in submission. He didn’t, but it was a near thing.
He could hear her angry, stomping steps crossing the loft towards the kitchen, and resolutely kept his eyes focussed on the stove in front of him, where he still hadn’t finished setting the timer. He forced himself to actually do so, the beeps sounding loud in the silence of the kitchen.
Wasn’t silent for long, because Erica was in the doorway, and even without turning, he could sense the rage rolling off her.
“Derek,” she said, her voice deceptively calm. He knew she wasn’t calm, he’d heard the way she’d called his name not five seconds ago. “I love you. You’re like a brother to me. You’re my friend, and my pack, and my family. So I am asking you this question from a place of love.” Derek still didn’t turn, but he could feel his muscles slowly tensing at what he knew would be a bad reaction. “What in the ever-loving fuck did you do?”
Boyd didn’t say anything, but Derek heard him approaching from the other end of the loft, which meant he’d gone to see why Erica was so furious, and was now coming to silently ask for an explanation as well.
Fuck.
“I RSVP’d for a wedding,” he informed the stove, because he wasn’t planning on turning around any time soon, instead focussing on the numbers as they slowly counted down from his five minute timer.
“You RSVP’d to Kate Argent’s wedding,” Erica accused, voice a little shrill. “Derek, are you insane?! Have you forgotten how messed up you were because of her?! She’s crazy, and horrible, and toxic, and did I mention crazy?!”
“Twice,” he offered quietly.
“Well it bears repeating! Derek, what are you doing?!”
Bracing himself against the stove and bowing his head, he let out a slow breath before pushing off it and turning to face her. Erica’s expression was twisted in both anger and worry. Boyd’s eyebrows were pinched and his face tight. Neither of them were happy about this, and he was well aware of that fact.
“I’m showing her she’s wrong.”
Erica’s mouth dropped open, and for a few seconds, she said nothing, like she was incapable of actually getting words out. Boyd’s hand fell onto her shoulder and squeezed, probably a silent request for her to let him handle it.
He’d been the first to handle it last time, after all.
“Derek, you don’t owe her anything. You don’t need to prove anything to her. She isn’t worth your time, and she certainly doesn’t deserve to know anything about your life right now. She’s in your past, and that’s where she belongs.”
“I want to prove to her that everything she said was bullshit,” Derek insisted, but even as he spoke the words, he recognized how fucking childish they were. Boyd was right, after all. Derek didn’t owe her any more of his time, and when he’d seen the invite, he should’ve deleted it.
Confirming his attendance was only proving to Kate that she still had some control over him. That a small part of him was still desperate to please, even though that wasn’t what he’d intended by confirming he would be going.
But he was playing into her hands. The second Boyd spoke, Derek realized it with a sense of dread. She’d sent him that invite to see if he’d bite, and he had. He’d fallen right into her trap, and now he couldn’t get out of it without losing face. Without her taunting him and mocking him for being too afraid to face her. Deleting it would’ve meant she’d never know if he saw it or not. Answering and then backing out meant she knew he was still a child easily manipulated.
He was so fucking stupid! Why hadn’t he just deleted it? Or better yet, waited for Erica and Boyd to arrive so he could talk to them? Erica would’ve been at his computer so fast to delete it, she’d have left a trail of fire in her wake.
The timer beeped behind him, but Derek made no move to turn and grab their dinner from the oven. He just stood there, feeling like an idiot.
“She’s not worth your time,” Boyd insisted. He squeezed Erica’s shoulder again, a silent request for her to move aside, and she did so, though reluctantly. Boyd stepped into the kitchen, examining every inch of Derek’s face. He could probably read how stupid he felt in his expression, but was kind enough not to comment on it. “Kate Argent was an awful person. She took advantage of you, tore you down, and almost destroyed who you were. I’m not letting her do that again.”
“We are not letting her do that again,” Erica hissed from the doorway. “Fuck her. She isn’t even worth the air she breathes. I can’t believe someone is stupid enough to marry her, maybe we should be sending a rescue team to her location right now. He might be held hostage. ‘Blink twice if you need help’ kind of thing.”
Boyd shifted ever so slightly, barely even looking over his shoulder, a silent request for her to stay out of it. Erica snapped her teeth together, but she still looked pissed, her eyes slowly bleeding gold as she struggled to control her shift.
Satisfied she’d stay out of it, Boyd focussed on Derek again, placing one hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to go. You don’t owe her anything.”
He felt absolutely miserable at the knowledge that now he had no choice. “I already RSVP’d, I can’t back out.”
“Of course you can,” Boyd insisted. “You don’t owe her an explanation. Just email her back and say you can’t make it.”
Derek could already imagine what that response would look like. She’d mock him and degrade him and basically make him feel two inches tall. It was amazing to think about how much damage a single person could do, and while Derek knew he was physically bigger than her—now, at any rate—and that he shouldn’t even be letting this entire thing bother him, this kind of deep-rooted trauma didn’t go away overnight.
If it ever did. After all, it had been five years since he’d broken up with Kate, and she still had some kind of invisible hold over him.
He didn’t want to go, but at the same time, he did. Because going felt like it would finally be over. He’d finally be free of her, because he’d be proving her wrong in every respect.
“I need this,” he said quietly, Boyd’s expression turning sad at the words. “I need the closure. I know I don’t owe her anything, and that in some weird, fucked up way this is just proving to her she still has a hold on me, but I feel like I’ll never be fully rid of her until I can show her that she doesn’t affect me anymore.”
He didn’t need to see Erica to know her expression said that was a stupid idea.
“It won’t be like last time,” Derek argued. “I don’t—you know I’m over her. I’ve been over her for years. I loved her, but...” He didn’t want to say it aloud, because he’d never admitted it to anyone but his sister Laura.
Kate was just a placeholder because he couldn’t have the person he truly wanted.
He’d thought she would be enough to make him forget about Stiles. And she had been, for the most part. He’d loved her, or at least, he thought he had. It had been easy to forget how much he wanted Stiles when he was with someone else.
It had killed him when Stiles had gone off to MIT and gotten a girlfriend within ten fucking days of being there, but Derek hadn’t been surprised. Stiles had always been like that. Enigmatic, magnetic, charismatic, not to mention attractive.
That had kind of been his downfall when he thought back on it. He’d been so upset about Stiles that when he’d met Kate, he wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind. She was nice to him, and made him feel like he mattered. In his vulnerable state, smarting over discovering Stiles had gotten himself a girlfriend, it was easy for him to fall for her harder than he might have otherwise.
In a way, she’d saved him from obsessing over Stiles. He knew he would be fine this time around, because he felt absolutely nothing for her given how his feelings had developed for the literal love of his life.
He didn’t need Kate anymore, he had Stiles.
Well, he didn’t have Stiles, they were just friends, but Derek didn’t need Kate because she’d never compare to Stiles. He just wanted to go to the wedding to prove to her that he’d succeeded despite her constantly trying to push him down, and he was ready to walk away from the entire thing with his head held high and oozing confidence.
He might be over-estimating his exit, but hopefully he wasn’t far off.
“This isn’t a good idea, Derek,” Boyd said quietly.
“Probably not,” he admitted. “But it’s my mistake to make.”
He could tell Boyd wanted to say something. Probably remind him that he was the one stuck trying to help him after everything had happened. How he was the one to call in the big guns, aka Stiles, to piece him back together. How he was directly affected by Derek’s complete personality flip because of the damage caused by Kate.
But he didn’t. He said nothing. He just sighed, ran one hand along his shorn head, and turned to look at Erica. She was standing just beyond the doorway, arms crossed and scowl on her face, eyes still more Beta gold than her regular brown.
When she said nothing, Derek finally turned to shut off the oven and grabbed some mitts from the drawer beside it. When he pulled the lasagna out, the cheese was a little crispy compared to what he’d been intending, but he didn’t dwell on it. It hadn’t burned or anything, and that was the important thing.
“How did she even get your email?” Erica demanded after a long and uncomfortable silence.
“I never changed it,” Derek admitted, grabbing a large knife from the knife block by the stove, along with a spatula. He had to put both down to pull plates out from one of his cupboards, and while he felt a little out of sorts, he was determined to act normal.
“Why didn’t you block her ass?” Erica seethed.
Derek pressed his lips together in a hard line, putting the plates on the counter a bit harder than he’d intended and grabbing the knife to begin cutting into the pasta dish. “I did,” he admitted. “She emailed me from a new address.”
Erica let out a loud sound of disgust bordering on annoyance, but when no further questions followed, he figured Boyd had motioned for her to let it go.
Derek was twenty-six years old now. He wasn’t the little nineteen-year-old that Kate had manipulated all those years ago. He could hold his own now, and he wasn’t going to let her get to him, not this time.
He was going to go to the wedding, have an amazing time, and flip her off on his way out the door.
It would be fine. She wouldn’t get to him. It would be totally fine.
Kate was getting to him.
She wasn’t supposed to be getting to him, but she fucking was.
Derek had convinced himself he could do this, that it would be fine, and had even managed to talk Boyd and Erica out of arguing with him about this whole thing. He was going, it was final, that was that.
And then he woke up this morning to a new email in his inbox, and he remembered why Kate had been so fucking bad for him. Why Boyd and Stiles had spent so long piecing him back together. Why she was the most toxic person he’d ever met in his life.
Because she was fucking getting to him.
Derek,
I was pleasantly surprised to see your RSVP to my wedding, considering it’s abroad and I’d have thought you’d lack the funds to make it there. Don’t go into debt just for me, I would hate for you to end up homeless because you can’t pay your rent on time.
One thing that didn’t surprise me was your lack of plus one. As predicted, I knew you wouldn’t have anyone in your life, because no one would be foolish enough to waste their time with you. You’re a nuisance at best, and horrible in bed, so I’m not surprised you weren’t able to move on romantically after our relationship ended.
Clearly, I didn’t have that problem. I suppose that’s to be expected, I was the one who settled when we were together. You were just lucky enough I was willing to give you a chance.
I look forward to seeing you in June, Derek. I don’t imagine anything’s changed since our last encounter. Can’t wait to be proven right.
With love,
Kate.
He wanted to pick up his laptop and hurl it against the wall, because fuck it all, her words were getting to him. Of course she’d notice he didn’t have a fucking plus one! She noticed everything she could to make his life miserable.
And it wasn’t that Derek couldn’t bring a date, because he could. He got hit on all the time. It was actually something he was horrendously uncomfortable about, because he knew the reason he’d even caught Kate’s eye all those years ago was because she found him attractive. According to his friends and family, he’d only gotten more attractive the older he got, something he unfortunately recognized as being true considering he couldn’t go out to a bar with Boyd for a drink without at least eight different people hitting on him.
There were three girls and one guy at work who’d made it very clear they were single and interested in him, but he didn’t want to cause problems by mixing his work and his social life, so he’d kept them all at arm’s length.
Of course, the real reason he was still single was because Stiles was.
Even though he knew it was impossible, this little voice at the back of his mind kept silently hoping that maybe one day Stiles would look over at him and realize he was perfect for him. Derek knew he could try and move things along himself by asking Stiles out, but he was worried about what that would do to their friends group.
Stiles was a year younger than him, and Derek remembered the first time he’d met him back when he was fourteen and Stiles was thirteen. A crazed Alpha Werewolf had come into their territory, and while his family and the pack had been out trying to take care of the problem, Stiles and his best friend Scott McCall had been poking around in the woods for a supposed dead body that had been reported to the sheriff, who happened to be Stiles’ father.
Things had happened very quickly. Scott had gotten bitten, Stiles had gotten hurt, and the Alpha Werewolf had been captured and forced into submission. But now they had a problem, because they had a kid who was barely a teenager starting to turn, an Alpha they needed to hand over to the authorities for rehabilitation, and a wounded Sheriff’s son who was extremely aggressive and protective of his best friend.
Derek remembered being annoyed that Scott and Stiles had come as a set back when Scott had been turned against his will. Every time the new Werewolf showed up at the Hale house for training, Stiles was right there with him. Derek had hated him, because he was loud, and annoying, and he smelled bad.
It had taken months for him to realize Stiles smelled bad because he took medication for his ADHD. It hadn’t helped with the smell, but it had at least made him a little less grumpy about it.
Nothing could prepare him for how fucking stubborn Stiles was, though. Derek was determined to go about his day and ignore the two children who were unfortunately a common sight at the Hale house. But Stiles was not having that.
He and Cora—and Scott—were in the same class at school, one grade below Derek, and it was like Stiles had made it his personal mission to drive Derek crazy. He always showed up unannounced in his room, asking questions, following Derek around, being a general nuisance. Derek had hated him for a long time, and it wasn’t until almost a year later that he realized what Stiles was doing.
Stiles had noticed Derek didn’t have very many friends, so he was essentially wearing Derek down until he was willing to accept his friendship. Derek didn’t usually make it a point to befriend humans, because a lot of them tended to be kind of assholes to him and his own kind, but Stiles seemed to want to prove him wrong.
Before Derek had really figured out what was going on, he was hanging out at Stiles’ place watching movies and playing video games. Sometimes they would go hang out at the mall together, or go bowling, or just... do the kinds of things Derek did with Boyd.
It was like Derek had blinked, and suddenly Stiles was a part of his life whether he wanted him there or not. And once he was there, it felt almost weird when he wasn’t. Derek had kind of gotten used to having him around, and slowly, he’d started acknowledging that maybe Stiles wasn’t so bad after all, and maybe he was kind of sort of his friend.
And then senior year had happened and Derek hated everything, because Stiles grew up a lot that summer. It was strange and almost uncomfortable to see the shift, but Derek found himself staring at Stiles more than usual. He hadn’t really understood why at first, and it wasn’t until he’d talked to Laura about it that she’d cuffed him across the back of the head and said, “Duh, you fucking like him.”
Which was terrifying. Because not only was Stiles human, but he was a guy, and worse, he was his friend. It felt... weird. Almost forbidden. Like he shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts about someone he’d grown to regard as a close friend.
Unfortunately, love didn’t work that way. It just happened, whether it was convenient or not, and that was how Derek found himself in love with one of his closest friends for the past eight years.
And why he was still single, because some stupid voice at the back of his head kept whispering, “What if?”
‘What if’ only applied if he actually did something about it, but he didn’t even know where to start. For one thing, he had no idea if Stiles even liked guys. He’d never really talked about it before, and Derek hadn’t heard of him dating any guys when he’d been off at university. Every now and then, Derek kept hoping he’d find a way to bring it up, but it wasn’t exactly something easily snuck into a conversation.
Overall though, this whole thing was now officially Stiles’ fault. Because if Derek hadn’t been so fucking in love with him, he’d have been dating someone by now he was sure, and Kate wouldn’t be sitting on the other end of the computer laughing about how right she was.
It made Derek feel horribly small, and he hated admitting that she was getting to him. Especially since he admitted it to Boyd, and his friend showed up less than ten minutes later with Erica in tow.
“Don’t go,” Erica insisted, pacing in front of the couch Derek and Boyd were seated on. “Just don’t go! Simple as that. Send her the middle finger emoji, block her email, and move on with your life.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Derek grunted, arms crossed and scowl on his face. “You have no idea how much more damage that will do. She’ll find a way back in, and hit me when I least expect it. I can’t not go.”
“New email address!” Erica insisted.
Completely reasonable suggestion, except... “It’s tied to my work email. While not impossible, it’d be a huge hassle to change it.”
Erica threw her arms in the air and continued to pace, muttering under her breath that boys were stupid and she hated them. Derek didn’t take offence, because he knew she was just mad about how much this was affecting him. He was mad about how much this was affecting him, if he was honest.
Sighing and resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands, he figured he could just... take someone from work. Tell Kate he hadn’t thought it would be appropriate to bring a plus one when they weren’t really friends, but if he was allowed to, then he had one. He’d just have to figure out who would be the least annoying of all his coworkers to bring along.
The wedding was in France. In Paris itself, actually. A destination wedding sounded just Kate’s style, because it was a way to flaunt her family’s considerable wealth. Derek wasn’t willing to take a trip to Europe just for the wedding. If he was forking over that amount of cash, he wanted to make it worthwhile. At least a week and a half. But that meant going with someone he could tolerate for that long, especially since he’d be stuck in a room with them.
And he’d have to be upfront about the whole thing. He’d have to explain the situation to whoever he chose and make sure they knew he wasn’t interested in them, and this was just a trip together to not look bad in front of Kate.
Which made him feel like an asshole and no better than her. He wasn’t opposed to lying to Kate, that wasn’t the problem, but it felt mean to ask someone he knew had a crush on him to go to a wedding and pretend to be his girlfriend—or boyfriend, if he chose his male coworker.
He’d have done anything to take Erica, but he knew Kate was well aware she’d married Boyd because she’d commented on one of the wedding photos on Derek’s Facebook before he realized he hadn’t blocked her on it. So Erica was out.
While he’d have tried with Kira Yukimura, who was Scott’s long-time girlfriend, since they got along really well and he knew she’d be up for a fun trip, Scott and Kate’s niece happened to be friends and while he knew for a fact the niece was a much kinder person and wouldn’t rat him out, she might accidentally let slip that Kira wasn’t actually his girlfriend. He didn’t want to bring someone who was obviously a lie. It had to be someone else, which was why coworkers were the only people he could think of.
He turned his head slightly when he heard a familiar engine approach, wondering what he was doing there, when dread pooled in the pit of his stomach and he whipped around to look at Boyd.
He was looking right back at him, arms crossed and expression completely neutral.
“You told him,” Derek accused, feeling anger slowly rising in his chest.
“I didn’t tell him,” Boyd corrected. “I decided you could tell him. The last time she destroyed you, I had to call in the big guns. She’s trying to destroy you again, why wouldn’t you assume I’d bring the same ammunition?”
Derek jerked off the couch and strode to the window, looking out at the lot below the large building he lived in. It used to be some kind of industrial factory or something with a living space on the top floor. When the company had gone out of business, the real estate agent was struggling to sell it because nobody seemed interested.
That made the price drop, and Derek had plans for the bottom part of his home. It had been a good investment, and while property taxes were astronomical given the surface area, he owned a lot of the land around it and was more than happy to consider it money well spent. He hadn’t put any plans in motion yet, but he had ideas.
Now he kind of wished the entire bottom floor was some kind of obstacle course to stop the new arrival from making it up to the loft because sure enough, the car that had stopped in his lot beside Erica’ forest green Audi was a sky blue Jeep.
And Stiles had just stepped out of it, flipping his keys in his hand and shutting the door. It didn’t latch, because that thing was older than he was, and he had to slam it again twice before it finally closed properly. Stiles pointed a threatening finger at it, as if silently telling it to behave or else, and then turned to head for the door to the building.
Fuck, he was going to be pissed when he found out what stupid thing Derek had done. While Stiles himself had done questionable things in his life, even some that could have resulted in bodily harm or even death, he seemed pretty bad at caring about his own self-preservation.
When it came to his friends though, he was scarier than Derek’s mother when she was in full Alpha Werewolf mode. Stiles did not take kindly to people hurting his friends, and while Kate hadn’t physically hurt Derek, it was still mental torture and manipulation and this was going to be an awful conversation.
He turned away from the window when he heard the door downstairs open and shut. Then Stiles’ footsteps were climbing the stairs. He stumbled once, cursing about uneven steps and Werewolves being bullies—like his clumsiness was somehow their fault—before making it to the landing. In true Stiles fashion, he didn’t even knock. He just tried the handle on the sliding door and, upon finding it unlocked, pulled the door open with a brilliant smile aimed across the loft at Derek.
“Yo,” he said easily, stepping into Derek’s home and shutting the door behind him. “I was told my expertise was needed. What’re we dealing with? Anyone die? Dad didn’t say anything about dead bodies, and your mom hasn’t texted me for my brilliant assistance, so what’s up?”
“Your Supernatural knowledge isn’t what we’re looking for today,” Boyd informed him, then turned slightly in his seat to look at Derek.
Derek looked right back, silently telling him not to do this to him. Stiles was going to explode and Derek didn’t want him flying to France in June to murder Kate on her wedding day.
“Why are you guys acting suspicious?” Stiles asked, forcing Derek’s gaze back to him. His eyes were narrowed suspiciously, taking in Derek and Boyd’s silent conversation, Erica’s pacing, the tense set of Derek’s shoulders. “What happened?”
Boyd gave Derek another clear look to tell him before he did. They both knew Stiles would be double pissed if it came from Boyd instead of Derek so he raked an agitated hand through his hair, looked away from the room at large to focus on the far wall to his left, and bit the bullet.
“I got invited to a wedding in June.”
“Okay?” Stiles asked slowly. “So? Is it your wedding and you just didn’t know, or...?”
No one spoke. Stiles shifted his weight. Shifted it again. Tapped his fingers against his phone through his jeans pocket. Stiles had never been good about standing still.
“It’s for Kate Argent.”
The complete and utter silence that followed was telling. Stiles froze completely, and Derek could hear his heartbeat slowly increasing in speed, his friend clearly trying to keep his temper in check. His body betrayed him, because Derek could tell Stiles was struggling not to explode right now.
“Didn’t know Demons could get married, don’t they burn up when they enter churches?”
Stiles’ voice was entirely too calm, which was at odds with the harsh pounding of his heart and the scents coming off him. Derek could smell the chemosignals from across the room, and Stiles was struggling to stay in control.
Because of course, there was no possible way Derek would’ve RSVP’d for this wedding, right? Absolutely no way.
“Her wedding’s in Paris,” Derek said, because while he knew Stiles was well aware of why he’d been called now, he still wasn’t brave enough to actually admit how stupid he was for having agreed to go.
“I hear Paris is very nice. City of love and all that. Not sure how a heartless bitch is going to fare in a city like that, but that’s her problem.”
Derek didn’t know what else to say, but he should’ve known his silence would only be tolerated for so long.
“Derek RSVP’d to the wedding and now Kate’s rubbing in the fact that he’s still single.”
“Erica,” Boyd insisted sharply.
“What?” She motioned Derek. “He was stalling! And it’s not like Stiles didn’t figure it out himself, we all have ears! His heart’s going to explode out of his chest with the way it’s beating.”
Derek was still looking at the far wall, because it was safer than looking over at Stiles. At one of two people who’d been forced to put Derek back together after the psychological damage Kate had left him with when they’d broken up. Stiles, like Boyd, had every reason to be angry and disappointed that he’d done this.
It hurt coming from Boyd yesterday. It was going to be worse coming from Stiles.
He didn’t say anything, but Derek knew he must’ve made some kind of motion, because Boyd grunted in the affirmative and Stiles’ shoes squeaked as he made his way across Derek’s loft. When he risked a glance at him, he saw that Stiles had walked over to his computer and was bend over the desk, reading the email he’d received that was still open on his screen.
His heart was beating so fast. Derek was concerned about Stiles’ health, because he didn’t think a heart should beat that fast and yet, Stiles’ was.
No one spoke while Stiles read, and Derek could practically see the gears turning in his head. Boyd might’ve been his best friend, but somehow Stiles was the one who knew him best. He knew that Derek wouldn’t back out of this, because of what Kate would say. He also knew what kind of toll this was having on Derek’s psyche, and how Kate’s words were affecting him.
That meant Stiles was trying to figure out the best play to have Derek go, but not take a critical hit to his mental health by going. Derek was going to have to talk to him about his coworkers to see if maybe his friends could help him figure out which one he could tolerate for the trip.
Stiles grabbed the mouse after a few moments and started clicking, doing something in Derek’s email. When he tilted his head slightly to get a better view, he saw that Stiles had opened the invitation, which he didn’t understand. Why was Stiles looking at the invitation?
A moment later, the calendar at the bottom of the screen opened, Stiles staring at it for a few seconds before straightening and turning around.
“I’ll go,” he informed the room at large.
What?
“What?” Erica echoed aloud.
“I’ll go as Derek’s plus one.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up, as if daring one of them to veto him. “She thinks Derek’s still single, I’m going to prove her wrong. I’ll be your boyfriend.” His eyes shifted to look right at Derek. “I’ll go to the wedding with you and be your boyfriend. I’m going to be the best boyfriend that has ever boyfriended in the history of ever. I’m going to boyfriend you so hard that Kate’s husband will contemplate leaving her for me.”
“You know, that might actually work,” Boyd said, sounding surprised at this turn of events. “You won’t let her get away with any of her shit, and if something happens, Derek has you there to lean on.”
“And she hates you,” Erica said gleefully, a manic grin on her face. “She knows you contributed to Derek breaking up with her, and for him to show up to her wedding with you, oh that’ll be delicious!”
“It also explains why he originally RSVP’d alone,” Stiles said, nodding to himself, like he was slowly formulating the entire plan in his head. “Derek’s a considerate guy, and he wouldn’t have wanted to ruin her wedding by bringing me. But if she’s going to act like that, then obviously he’s going to feel less inclined to be nice about it and bring along the one person she wouldn’t want there.”
“You can’t afford it.”
Three heads turned to him, because Derek hadn’t actually meant to blurt that out quite as loudly as he had. But they were all planning something that sounded like a horrible idea, because Stiles was going to be his boyfriend.
Stiles could not be his boyfriend, Derek wouldn’t survive that. There was no way, and he had to stop this now.
“Yeah I can.” Stiles gave him a weird look. “I’ve been saving up for that Disney trip with Jackson and Scott, but that’s not until next year so I should be good to use a chunk for this trip and then save up enough for the next one. Weddings like this usually have deals, like—if you book a certain number of rooms in a specific hotel, you get a discount. I saw something on the invite about contacting their travel agent so we’re going to be paying less than we normally would for the hotel.”
This was really bad.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“Oh no, I have to go to Paris with one of my closest friends, sounds awful,” Stiles deadpanned, then rolled his eyes. “It’ll be fine, and again, I’ll be totally believable. By the time we’re done with the trip, even you’ll think we’re dating.”
Yeah, that was kind of the fucking problem!
Erica let out a bark of laughter and punched Stiles in the arm excitedly when he moved a bit closer. “I knew Boyd made the right call when he involved the big guns. This is perfect!”
No.
No it wasn’t.
This was terrible.
“Honestly, I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you, or laugh.”
If Derek weren’t in dire need of assistance right then, he’d have growled in Laura’s face. As it was, he just kept his head bowed with his hands buried in his hair and his elbows resting on her kitchen table as she set a cup of coffee down in front of him before taking a seat across from him.
“I wish I could rewind the past two days,” he admitted, sighing deeply and forcing himself to sit up. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and making no move to grab the coffee.
Laura shrugged, unsympathetic, while sipping at her own, licking her lips and putting her mug down in front of herself, hands wrapped around it.
“Look on the bright side.”
Derek glared over at her. How could there possibly be a bright side? He was going to his abusive ex-girlfriend’s wedding with the love of his life pretending to be his boyfriend. And he knew Stiles. Stiles didn’t half-ass anything. If Stiles said he was going to be Derek’s fake boyfriend, he was going to be so convincing that Derek might legitimately forget they weren’t actually dating.
He didn’t want this. It was going to hurt. It would hurt more than anything Kate could ever do to him. He wished he’d closed out of his browser so that Erica wouldn’t have seen the RSVP screen. Better yet, he wished he’d fucking deleted Kate’s email. This entire thing was going to be a nightmare.
“I’m just saying,” Laura insisted, immune to his looks of death by now. Growing up together had its disadvantages. “We both know you’re never going to do anything about your crush, and he’s actually willing to pretend to be your boyfriend. Think about it. Kate has Were friends, right? They’re going to be listening in all the time to pass along any dirt on you, and Stiles is smart enough to know that himself. It means no matter what happens while you’re there, whether you’re in private or in public or whatever, he’s going to be your boyfriend. Completely, one-hundred percent genuine boyfriend. I know it’s not what you want, because it’ll all be for show, but this is a good opportunity for you to see how badly you want it, you know?” She shrugged again, pulling her mug of coffee closer and then raising it to take another sip of it.
“But it’s not real,” Derek snapped, scowling even more. “Stiles can do this without any problems because he’s Stiles, and he wants me to be okay, but it won’t mean anything to him like it will me.”
“Does that really matter right now?” Laura asked, arching an eyebrow and mug held between both hands up near her face. “Don’t people always say ‘it’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all?’ Look at it from that perspective.”
“People who say that have never been in love,” Derek argued. “I can’t do this.”
“Well you can’t back out, either. You tried that, and it didn’t work. My advice?” She set her mug down and folded her hands together, staring him right in the eye. “Go. Have a good time. Cherish what little time you have with him like that, and then decide how badly you want it. Enough to risk it paying off? Enough to at least ask him in the slight chance he feels the same way?”
“Enough to ruin our fucking friendship?” He bit out.
Laura sighed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, mirroring her brother. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Derek. It’s already official, it’s happening, you guys set everything up and paid the travel agency yesterday. It doesn’t matter how big of a disaster this is going to be in your mind, you’ve already gone past the point of no return. All you can do now is live with that decision.”
Derek didn’t want to live with it, because he still couldn’t believe how fast everything had happened. Stiles had only come up with this plan two days ago, and in the span of two days, Derek had confirmed he was bringing a plus one with Kate, Stiles had organized time off with his work, and they’d both sat down to book the flight, shuttle and hotel. Stiles had agreed with Derek that they should make a trip out of it, so they were going to be sticking around for two weeks.
They were arriving four days before the wedding, and then staying an additional week after it was over. Derek didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. On the one hand, having a week after the wedding to relax and get rid of the negative energy before coming back home would be beneficial, but on the other hand... he would be stuck in a room with Stiles not being his pretend-boyfriend for a week.
He kind of wanted to just head home immediately after so he could avoid Stiles for two years until his heart mended a little bit.
Fuck, and they were sharing a room. He and Stiles used to have sleepovers when they were in high school—along with most of the pack, his parents put up with a lot of teenagers in their house—but this was different. This would be Derek and Stiles sharing a room, a bed, and being on vacation together. It felt so fucking intimate, and it was going to be after a week of pretending to be a couple.
“I’m a fucking idiot,” Derek informed his sister.
She shrugged. “You were dropped on your head a few times as a child so I wouldn’t be surprised if you had brain damage.”
He gave her a look for that, but she just smirked because she was a bitch.
Before he could say anything else, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw a text from Stiles saying he was on his way and cursed when he noticed the time.
“I have to go, Stiles wants to meet up,” he said, getting to his feet while replacing his phone.
“What for?”
“With Stiles, who knows?” Derek offered Laura a half-wave, ignoring her affronted sound at his lack of manners because he hadn’t had any of the coffee she’d made, and headed for the door. He was in his car and driving down the street within a minute, still unsure about why Stiles wanted to meet up today. Hadn’t they spent enough time together lately? Stiles would’ve only just gotten off work not that long ago, and Derek himself had actually ducked out early to talk to Laura.
He was about to spend two weeks alone in a hotel room with Stiles, surely they could afford some time apart before then? Not that June was right around the corner, they still had a month before the wedding, but still.
Derek was about to suffer immensely and he’d rather not prolong that suffering by starting early.
Didn’t stop him from obeying Stiles though, and he parked his car in the small outlet half an hour from Beacon Hills. Climbing out, he looked around for Stiles’ Jeep and saw it parked in front of a store. Frowning, he shut the driver’s side door, locked up, and headed towards the shop.
The closer he got, the worse he felt, because this was a fucking suit store. He’d actually momentarily forgotten that he was going to a wedding and thus would need something nice to wear. It also meant Stiles needed something nice to wear, and Derek didn’t know if he could handle Stiles in a suit. It had been bad enough at graduation, and Stiles wasn’t as filled out back then as he was now. This was fucking terrible.
Then again, better he see him now and get used to how attractive he was rather than seeing Stiles for the first time at the wedding. He could get his boner and speechlessness out of the way now.
Pushing through the door, his eyes instantly zeroed in on Stiles and one of the sales associates near the far back of the store. It only had one other associate present and no other customers, so it wasn’t hard to find him.
“Hello,” the associate behind the till said with a smile. “Can I help you with anything?”
“I’m uh, with him.” He motioned Stiles, feeling awkward, and moved quickly to the back of the store, tilting his head to listen in on the conversation before he was within regular earshot.
“—something classy. Like, not over the top as if I’m trying too hard, but still dapper, you know?”
“Indeed.”
“Thanks man.”
Derek reached them in time for Stiles to slap the associate in the back, grinning like he always was. The man was older than them and wearing a pin-striped suit. He obviously cared about his appearance and probably hated that Stiles and Derek were there given both of them were in jeans, Stiles had a graphic tee on and Derek was pretty sure the shirt he was wearing would be considered hideous by most people.
But it was comfortable, and he was allowed to wear whatever he wanted to work, so he didn’t care very much. Besides, if he showed off his shitty fashion sense, maybe his coworkers would stop hitting on him.
“Hey, you made it.” Stiles slapped Derek in the back very similarly to how he’d just slapped the associate. It was a friendly gesture, and that only made this entire plan of theirs even more awkward. How the hell was Stiles going to feel comfortable kissing Derek? And actually make it believable?
“What are we doing here?”
“I was thinking last night while brushing my teeth, couples usually complement each other, right?”
Derek frowned at him, not following. “What?”
“You know, if a woman wears like, a turquoise dress and black shoes, her date will wear a black suit with a turquoise shirt. Or like, tie or pocket square. You know, they make sure they look good together as a couple.”
“Okay,” Derek said slowly.
“So I figured we needed new outfits, hence the store.” Stiles motioned around them. “We need to complement each other and I am warning you right now, I look terrible in a suit.”
Derek begged to differ, he’d been present at Stiles’ graduation.
“I’m not bad in a vest, though. So, I was thinking...” Stiles moved over to where the formal vests were and motioned two that he’d evidently pulled off the racks earlier to hang side-by-side because they didn’t match the ones behind them.
They were similar in style, but just different enough that they obviously weren’t the same. Both of them seemed to have the same metallic red sheen across the front, subtle enough that Derek only really noticed when he shifted closer and the light bounced off the vests just right. The entire back looked to just be regular black.
“Huh.”
“What do you mean ‘huh?’ I worked hard to find something that would look good on both of us. Do you know how hard it is to find anything for my complexion? I either look washed out or dead.” Stiles turned back to the vests, inspecting them both. “I figure we can wear opposite coloured shirts, so like, you wear a black shirt and I wear a white one. Then we both have the vests on and black slacks. And I was thinking ties, but I’m undecided on the colour as of now. Henry might have ideas, though. He just went to grab us some nice shirts.”
Henry had to be the store associate helping them, and Derek wished he could just tell him not to bother. He understood what Stiles was trying to do, but wouldn’t that be obvious? Like they were trying too hard?
Stiles didn’t seem to think so, and when Henry came back, he excitedly shoved a bunch of shirts and the vest at Derek and ushered him towards a changing room. Derek had his own slacks at home, but even as he was changing out into one of the shirts, two pairs were thrown over the stall for him and he just resigned himself to doing this.
Once Stiles got an idea into his head, it was impossible to talk him out of it. Really, it’d be easier to just go along.
When he stepped out wearing the more comfortable of the pair of pants, one of the black shirts and the vest, he didn’t see Stiles anywhere, but the changing room across from his had the door closed. He walked a bit further into the store, tugging at his cuffs to try and get a bit more comfortable, and saw Henry walking towards him with eight or nine ties in his hand.
“If you would,” he said politely, and then stopped beside Derek. He took each tie in his free hand one at a time and held it up against Derek’s chest, tilting his head and humming every now and then. It meant absolutely nothing to Derek, so he just stood there and waited.
Eventually, he heard the door for Stiles’ changing room open and he stiffened, because he did not need to see Stiles in a suit right now, God dammit.
“Hey, you look really good!” Stiles insisted, sounding excited. When he came around Derek to look him up and down, Derek took his time doing the same, examining every inch of Stiles in a suit.
He so rarely wore them, but he looked so good in them. The slacks were just tight enough that Derek was positive they’d make his ass look amazing when he turned around. The shirt was the perfect fit, the vest striking but not too much, and he just looked really well put together. The only thing that broke the illusion were his socked feet, which were peeking out from the hem because the pants were a touch too long for him.
Henry was still in front of Derek, holding a tie up to his chest, but he moved aside and turned to Stiles, obviously giving him a look of inquiry.
“Oh, yeah! That’s perfect.”
Derek looked down and found that the tie being held up was the same colour as the vest. He figured that tended to be what most people did when they wore coloured vests. They had the tie to match.
“For me too, right?” Stiles asked, motioning himself. Henry obediently moved away from Derek and pressed the tie against Stiles’ chest, looking at Derek for his opinion.
He was scared to say anything, because he was worried whatever came out of his mouth wouldn’t be in comprehensible English.
“Good,” he managed to force out, and Stiles grinned at him.
“Perfect. We’ll take both sets.” Stiles slapped Henry in the back again. The man looked like he wanted to tell Stiles to stop doing that, but it was obvious Stiles was just being overly friendly. He was an overly friendly kind of guy. “Hey, you guys do alterations? Pants are a little long.”
While Stiles was busy chattering away with the employee about the pant length, Derek turned to head back for the changing room so he could put his own clothes back on. While he hadn’t exactly intended to go out and buy a new outfit today, he acknowledged that he would’ve had to eventually anyway and he wanted to make sure he looked really good. Stiles had forced him to do something he’d have to do anyway in under an hour that Derek would’ve procrastinated until probably the day before they left.
He was back in his regular clothes long before Stiles returned to the changing room, since he’d had to get his pants pinned for the hemming. Derek found it interesting that Stiles’ pants needed to be hemmed when his didn’t given they were almost the same height, but when he asked the associate at the checkout about it, they said that they’d chosen different cuts. Derek’s pair probably would’ve fit Stiles just fine length-wise, but he’d gone for a different pair.
Derek figured Stiles didn’t want them to be too identical.
Wincing a little at the price, since suits were not cheap, Derek paid for his outfit and waited off to the side for Stiles to finish changing. He handed his pants to Henry, but brought the tag to the front with the rest of his things for the associate to check him out. They gave Stiles a tag for his alteration and thanked them both for their patronage.
Stiles waved, calling a thank you loudly through the store to Henry, and preceded Derek out of the store. Once they were outside and in front of the Jeep, Stiles turned to him and smiled.
“Looks like we’re on track for the wedding. Now all we have to do is make sure we buy a dope ass gift from the registry, and actually show up.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, presumably to check the time, but when he made a face and put it back, Derek realized he’d gotten a message.
“Everything okay?”
“Hm?” Stiles asked, looking up at him. “Oh, fine. Scott’s just butthurt I’m going to Europe without him. Jackson’s actually pissed about it, but they can relax and stop acting entitled for five minutes. I’m doing this for you, after all. They’ll understand eventually.”
Derek didn’t say anything to that, but he felt kind of guilty to know that he might have fucked over Stiles for his Disney trip next year. He was going to have to make sure that he paid for a majority of the things during the trip to make up for Stiles having to come with him.
Stiles kept insisting it wasn’t a hardship whenever Derek brought it up, but Derek knew how much this was costing him, which meant it was the same for Stiles. It wasn’t fair, considering Derek was the one who’d gotten himself into this mess in the first place.
“Hey, why don’t we go back to yours and look through the registry?” Stiles asked. “I want to get Kate the most expensive but hideous thing on her registry. I’m petty that way.”
Derek was petty that way too, since he’d been thinking the same thing himself after RSVPing, and he half-smiled at the glint in Stiles’ eye.
“Sure. If you stay for dinner, I can make something.”
“Hell yeah!” Stiles punched him in the arm. “Race you back to town.”
“Don’t speed,” Derek deadpanned, walking around the Jeep so he could head off towards his Camaro.
“Like my Jeep could handle it anyway,” Stiles called after him.
Derek just rolled his eyes but didn’t comment, continuing for his Camaro, and trying not to stress about the upcoming wedding.
Maybe Laura was right. If this was all he was going to get, he might as well make the most of it.
Of all the people Derek expected to find at his door two days before he was set to fly to Paris with Stiles, Scott McCall was not one of them. Not to say he had a problem with Scott, but despite him being part of the Hale pack, they’d never really bonded the same way Derek and Stiles had. He was a Werewolf, he’d been around—and was the reason Stiles had been around back in the day—but that was about it.
He didn’t have a problem with him or anything, they just didn’t usually interact unless Stiles was involved.
Which probably explained why he was there, because the second Derek opened his door to a scowling Scott, the other man said, “You need to cancel your trip with Stiles.”
Derek stared at him for a long while at that. No ‘hello,’ no ‘how’s it going, can I come in,’ no nothing. Just a straight demand for him to cancel his trip.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Derek stood to his full height in the middle of the doorway, no longer interested in inviting him inside. Normally he’d have offered him a drink, asked how he was doing, if he and Kira were liking the new place they were renting. The usual polite small talk stuff his mother had instilled in him.
After that greeting? He wasn’t interested.
“It’s non-refundable and is in two days. We’ve already bought everything we need for it, our hotel’s booked, and so are our flights. So, no.”
Scott scowled at him and a low growl started deep in his chest. It was almost like a challenge and Derek tensed, feeling his own instinct beginning to bristle in response to the perceived threat.
“You’re being selfish.”
Derek’s eyebrows rose up slowly, his brain trying to determine what Scott meant when he said that, because he had no idea how him taking Stiles to France as a date—well, pretend date, whatever—for two weeks was him being selfish.
“I’m being selfish?” he repeated.
“Yeah.”
“In what way?”
“Think of Stiles!”
That made even less sense.
“What are you talking about?”
Scott snapped his teeth together, like he hadn’t meant to say that, then jerked his chin up and crossed his arms. “Stiles doesn’t want to go on this trip with you.”
“He’s the one who offered.”
“Yeah, but that was, you know, spur of the moment.”
“Spur of the moment,” Derek repeated dryly.
“Yeah.”
This conversation was making him feel like he was losing a few IQ points. Nothing against Scott, but he had no idea what he was talking about, or where he was getting these ideas. Stiles had specifically said he would do it, and was the one basically spearheading everything from the discussion with the travel agent, to the suits, to the gift, all of it.
“He seems pretty involved in making sure everything goes well for this trip to have had it be a spur of the moment decision.”
Scott opened his mouth. Closed it. He looked frustrated, shifting his weight from foot to foot before sighing and saying, “Look Derek, I can’t really... I tried talking to him about this, and it kind of blew up in my face. I just know that if you guys go on this trip together, it’s gonna be a problem.”
“Why would it be a problem?” Derek asked, even though he knew it would be a problem.
For him.
Because pretending to date Stiles for a week was going to fucking destroy him when they stopped ‘dating.’
“Can you just trust me?” Scott asked, sounding borderline desperate. “Just cancel your trip. Please. Or-or tell him you don’t want him to go anymore. Say you’re fine going on your own. Or like take, I don’t know, Laura or something. Or another friend? Just anyone else.”
“He paid for his plane ticket, and it’s not really my place to tell him what he can and can’t do.” Derek gave Scott a look. “You know better than anyone that once Stiles makes up his mind about something, it’s basically made up. I tried to talk him out of it originally, but he talked his way into making me agree. That’s just how he is.”
Scott raked another agitated hand through his hair, looking frustrated. Not so much at Derek anymore, but just in general. It made him curious to know what Scott was so anxious about. Was he worried Stiles would fall in love with Paris and never want to come back?
It was a nice city, or so Derek had heard, but Stiles would never want to live that far away from his dad and closest friends. He might joke about it, and he was probably going to send a million pictures to Scott, Jackson Whittemore and his dad on Whatsapp, but when the two weeks were up, he’d want to head home. He’d probably complain about missing his bed and pillow.
Actually, now Derek was wondering if Stiles was going to bring his pillow. He was very particular about it, even now. He’d try and think to remind him the morning of if he remembered, but was pretty sure he was going to be a little distracted.
He didn’t know if he was more anxious about seeing Kate again, or dating Stiles for a week. Both were equally terrifying thoughts, honestly.
“Can you just... can you do something for me?” Scott asked, forcing Derek back to the conversation at hand.
“If I can, sure.”
“Please be careful with him.”
Derek frowned. “What, like with my Werewolf strength? It’s pretend Scott, I’m not going to get too aggressive in bed with him or anything,” Derek snapped. He didn’t want to imagine sleeping with Stiles, because now he was literally imagining it. Picturing it and everything. Fuck, he had a really good imagination, apparently.
And shit, Scott was right there and Derek didn’t need him finding out he was in fucking love with Stiles.
“No, I don’t mean like that.” Scott made a face, like the idea of them being intimate was something he’d rather not think about. “I just mean... don’t let him go too far with this, okay? You guys are friends, and you care about each other, and I’m sure you want to keep this friendship intact. So don’t do anything that’ll jeopardize that.”
Derek wasn’t entirely sure he understood what Scott was saying, but he nodded anyway. “Sure.”
“Okay.” Scott rubbed one hand across his mouth, winced, then motioned the stairs with his other hand. “I’m just gonna—Anyway, enjoy your trip.”
“Thanks.”
He watched Scott turn and head back down the stairs, still not entirely sure what that had been about, but not having much time to dwell on it.
They were leaving in two days, and he had a lot of other things to worry about than Scott’s weird request.
[Laura]
have a safe triiiiiip~
[Laura]
remember
[Laura]
if this is all you get
[Laura]
make the most of it!!!!!
Derek resisted the urge to roll his eyes and thanked Laura before shoving his phone into his pocket. He’d already said his farewells to his parents and Cora, but Laura hadn’t been available for a call because of work so he’d texted her instead.
He was kind of wishing he hadn’t, because now he was worried Stiles might magically see the message and ask him what it meant. He knew the likelihood of that was low, it wasn’t like Stiles was going to go snooping through his stuff, but still.
He wished Laura hadn’t put it in writing.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other while standing outside his home, suitcase waiting beside him with a suit bag, and his carry-on over his shoulder. He’d checked eight times that he had everything, especially when it came to their outfits because they had been expensive. There was no point in both he and Stiles buying suit bags for the trip, so he’d gotten one and taken Stiles’ outfit as well. It was practical and efficient, and also alluded to them living together since they’d have their clothes in the same bag.
Different suitcases, but Derek didn’t think that’d be weird. He’d been on trips with his family before and his parents always had their own bags, so it made sense he and Stiles would also have their own bags.
Resisting the urge to check the time, Derek tried not to feel anxious about this whole thing. Which was hard, because he had a lot to be anxious about. First of all: plane. He hated flying. All Werewolves hated flying, it made them uncomfortable, so he wasn’t looking forward to this at all.
Then on top of that, he was going to be ‘dating’ Stiles and seeing Kate at the same fucking time. It was a double blow and he was already feeling nervous about it and they hadn’t even gotten to the airport yet.
He probably should’ve fought harder when Stiles, Boyd and Erica had been excitedly talking this whole plan through in his living room last month. The more he thought about what Laura had said, the less sure he was about this whole thing.
He understood where she was coming from. Having Stiles like this, even temporarily, would give him a good idea of whether or not they were even compatible. But at the same time, what if they worked too well together? Derek already loved Stiles enough as it was, having him be the perfect boyfriend he kept promising he was going to be was nerve-wracking because how was he supposed to go back to being friends with Stiles after seeing what they could be?
His eyes shot to the road when he heard a car approach and he locked his feelings down. Stiles wouldn’t be able to sniff them out, being human and all, but their driver sure would and he didn’t need to be giving Jackson any ideas.
Nobody had been free to drive Stiles and Derek to the airport in Sacramento, and taking a cab was out of the question given how expensive it would be. They could’ve driven Derek’s Camaro and left it in the park’n’fly, but with all the expenses already piling up, Derek wasn’t exactly keen on adding another one.
Thankfully Jackson had the week off work, and Stiles had kind of bullied him into waking up early to drive them to the airport. He had to use his mother’s BMW, since his Porsche wouldn’t have enough space for three people and all their luggage, but at least it was a free ride.
While it was entirely possible the car approaching wasn’t Jackson, Derek lived in such a secluded area on the edge of town that it couldn’t possibly be anyone else. Sure enough, Jackson’s mother’s sleek red BMW rounded the corner and came into view, driving slowly over the slightly uneven asphalt that led up to the lot at the front of Derek’s house.
He frowned when he noticed the car was empty save for Jackson, and figured he would’ve picked Stiles up first. It made sense considering where Derek lived, because now they’d have to backtrack into town to pick up Stiles and then head back out this way to reach the highway. He didn’t question it though, he wasn’t going to antagonize the guy driving him to the airport.
Jackson stopped the car a few feet from Derek, climbing out and flipping his keys in his hand, giving Derek a suspicious once-over as if he’d never seen him before.
“Hale,” he said, voice a little cold.
Derek hadn’t seen Jackson for over a month, so he couldn’t possibly fathom why he’d be in a sour mood with him.
“Jackson. Thanks for agreeing to drive us.” Derek turned to pick up the suit bag in one hand and grabbed the handle of his rolling suitcase in the other, heading for the trunk that Jackson had just opened for him.
“Stiles whined. It was the easiest way to shut him up.”
“Still, we appreciate it.”
Derek put his suitcase in first, making sure to leave enough room for Stiles’, and then carefully folded the suit bag overtop. When Stiles got his bag in, they could rearrange it, so Derek wasn’t going to fuss about it too much. It would probably get twisted up on the plane anyway.
Jackson said nothing as Derek finished up, then he shut the trunk and headed back for the driver’s seat. Derek went to climb in the passenger’s seat since he didn’t think Jackson would appreciate being treated as a chauffeur if Derek sat in the back. Putting his carry-on by his feet, he buckled in and waited for them to head off.
They didn’t move.
Derek turned to look at Jackson, who was scowling out the windshield, one hand tapping against the steering wheel, as if in thought.
“You know I don’t have any beef with you, right?”
Frowning, Derek said, “I assumed we were on good terms.”
Jackson nodded, still not looking at him. “I like you, Hale. You’re a good guy. But I’m sure you know I like Stiles more. He’s my brother, and regardless what McCall says, Stiles and I are the closest friends out of anyone we know. I’d kill someone for him, and I’d hide a body for him if he killed someone.”
“Okay,” Derek said slowly, unsure of where this was going.
“I need you to understand that.” Jackson turned to look at him, expression stony. “I need you to really understand that. Because if you do anything during this trip to hurt him, I’m going to kill you.”
Derek was bigger than Jackson was, and had always been stronger than him, but he honestly didn’t think he’d ever been afraid of him before. Not until now, at any rate. His expression was serious, his heart slow and steady, and it was obvious he meant every single word he’d just said. If Derek did anything to hurt Stiles, he was going to come home, and find Jackson in his loft ready to tear him apart.
It was kind of a chilling realization that Jackson was this terrifying when it came to those he loved.
“I’m not going to hurt Stiles,” Derek insisted, because it was true. The only person who was going to get hurt during this trip was him, Stiles would just have a good time and come home happy as a clam.
Derek was going to come home and try not to shut down like he had after his breakup with Kate.
“Good,” Jackson said. “Because if you do, I’ll be waiting for you.”
Why were all of Stiles’ friends telling him to be careful with him and not hurt him? Stiles wasn’t fragile, even if he was a human. He was smart and resilient and more of a badass than most Werewolves Derek knew. The fact that all his friends were warning him not to do anything to hurt him was really confusing and made him feel like they didn’t know Stiles at all.
“Okay,” Derek said, then looked between Jackson and the windshield. “Can we go now?”
Jackson scowled at him but turned the key in the ignition anyway, obediently starting the car and turning them around to head back into town. It didn’t take them long to reach Stiles’ house, and said individual was sitting on the porch steps with his suitcase at the bottom of them and a messenger bag across his chest. He looked to be texting on his phone, and it was hard to miss the annoyed scowl he was sporting.
When he glanced up, he let it slide right off, since Stiles was a master at hiding what he was feeling—though often forgot he was friends with Werewolves and chemosignals were a thing.
Getting to his feet and shoving his phone back into his pocket, he jumped down the three steps to the path leading to the porch and then grabbed the handle of his rolling suitcase, walking towards the BMW Jackson had pulled into the driveway.
Derek frowned as Stiles approached, because he was wearing jeans, but instead of his usual graphic tees, he had a long-sleeved maroon Henley on. Derek didn’t know Stiles owned anything without a superhero or pun emblazoned across the front.
Jackson opened his door to help Stiles get his suitcase into the trunk, and Derek could hear him bitching at his friend that just because he was human didn’t mean he couldn’t pick up a fucking suitcase. Jackson snarked a rude comment back and Derek sighed. They were going to be bickering the whole way to the airport, now.
Their friendship was weird, he’d never understood it, and probably never would.
When Jackson climbed behind the wheel and Stiles opened the back door to get in, Derek tensed.
He understood why he’d never seen Stiles in a Henley before. Because he didn’t own any.
Because it was Derek’s.
Whipping around in time for Stiles to shut the door and grin at him, he watched him without a word as Stiles tossed his messenger bag onto the neighbouring seat.
“You have your passport, right? Most important thing for this trip is the passport, everything else can be bought, though preferably not because I hear France is expensive.”
“Put your fucking seatbelt on so we can leave, I have plans today, it’s not all about you,” Jackson snapped.
Stiles rolled his eyes but obliged, grabbing the seatbelt and snapping it into place. “How come you picked up Derek first? You should’ve come to get me, now you’re backtracking.”
“Why do you care?” Jackson asked in a bored tone, backing out of the driveway and cranking the wheel so he could head down the street.
“Uh, because he got shotgun? Now I’m stuck in the back like a loser.”
“Suits you,” was Jackson’s smirked response.
Stiles kicked the back of his seat, because he was mature that way. Jackson snarled for him not to mess up his mother’s car or he’d drop him off on the side of the highway.
Derek didn’t really pay much attention to their bickering because he was still too focussed on the fact that Stiles was wearing his shirt! Honestly, it was kind of driving him crazy. He washed his clothes like any other civilized person, obviously, but that was one of his favourite lazing-at-home-doing-nothing shirts so even after hundreds of washes, it was so saturated with his scent that no amount of loads through the laundry could fully get rid of it.
So now Stiles was sitting there, in an enclosed space, wearing a shirt that smelled like Derek. And fuck did their scents ever go well together. Stiles’ hadn’t permeated the Henley yet since he’d evidently only just put it on this morning, but it was easy for Derek to inhale both Stiles’ scent coming off his skin alongside his own on the Henley and fuck.
They literally smelled so good together. What the hell, that wasn’t fair. And the realization that Stiles was going to have Derek’s scent lingering on his skin once he took the Henley off? That was enough to make his eyes burn, the shift trying to take control, but he forced it back. He could not expose how much he loved Stiles when they were about to go on a two week trip together.
This was the worst. The literal worst!
“What’s with you?” Jackson grunted from beside him and Derek turned to him sharply. The other Werewolf was giving him a weird look, alternating between glancing over at Derek and watching the road.
Derek looked back at Stiles. “Is that my shirt?”
It was a stupid question to ask, because he knew it was his shirt. And Stiles also knew that Derek knew it was his shirt. Jackson fucking knew it was his shirt!
“Oh, yeah!” Stiles beamed at him, like he was about to give him the best news ever. “I figured couples tend to wear each other’s clothes, and this would help me smell more like you. Werewolves are all about the whole scenting thing, so it makes more sense for me to smell like you versus you smelling like me. I remember Kate had a Werewolf friend at school, so she probably still does. Gotta make sure we cover all the bases, you know?” He paused then, and winced. “Right. I kind of... stole it from your place. Probably should’ve asked. That was my bad.”
Jackson snorted, but Stiles just nudged the back of his seat again, being sure not to kick it this time so that Jackson couldn’t get mad.
He got mad anyway, he was Jackson.
“Hey, since we didn’t really plan much about the whole couples thing, we should probably talk about that now,” Stiles said, leaning forward between the two seats.
Derek didn’t want to plan the whole ‘couples thing,’ but he knew they had to talk things out before they reached Paris, and with how he would be on the plane, it wasn’t the ideal place to have a discussion.
As Laura had predicted, Stiles talked a lot about how they’d have to be boyfriends twenty-four/seven, because if Kate still had Werewolf friends, they would obviously be trying to catch them in a lie. That meant making sure everything they did and said, whether in their room or not, would have to be believable.
Stiles had absolutely no problems talking to Derek about how far they should be going, which he honestly found uncomfortable because it was making him a little turned on and Jackson was right there! Stiles didn’t seem to notice, and just said he didn’t mind going as far as Derek was comfortable with. He even joked about humping him during the wedding with a wink, which Derek tried not to picture. It sounded ridiculous out loud, but looked very sexy in his head.
He could hear plastic creaking the longer the conversation went on, and eventually realized it was Jackson’s hands tightening around the steering wheel. His expression was stony again as he stared straight ahead, but Derek could tell he was pissed off by the entire conversation.
If he didn’t know better, Derek would’ve thought Jackson was jealous, but he had his own partner at home so that made no sense whatsoever.
Stiles eventually—mercifully—moved on to other topics as they drove, pulling a notebook out of his bag and flipping through it while excitedly explaining all the different touristy things he wanted to do in Paris. They might’ve originally planned this whole trip because of Kate’s wedding, but they didn’t have to be with her the whole time, plus their extra week after the wedding was over. It meant they’d have tons of time to explore and visit places, and Stiles seemed to have planned everything out for them.
The list had all the usual places people always talked about when visiting Paris, like the Eiffel Tower, Notre-Dame Cathedral, the Louvre, and L’Arc de Triomphe. But Stiles had obviously done his research, because he’d made note of a lot of other popular places he wanted to go to, and seemed to have figured out the best way to maximize their exploring so they could see as much as possible in as few days as they had.
In addition to the four main attractions, he’d added things like the Sacred Heart Basilica of Montmartre, Paris’ national opera house Palais Garnier, Versailles Palace, the Paris Catacombs, Champs-Élysées, Sainte-Chapelle, the Seine, Montparnasse Tower, the Pantheon, a few more museums—Musée d’Orsay, Musée Rodin and Musée de l’Orangerie—and two public gardens—Jardin des Tuileries and Jardin du Luxembourg.
He’d basically mapped out how far everything was from their hotel, as well as each other, so that they could spend one day touring a few different things and check them all off. While some of the attractions required payment for entry, Stiles said he was surprised to find how many of them were actually free. And for some of them, they didn’t even have to go in if they didn’t want to, because he personally felt the beauty of the Eiffel Tower was the tower itself, and not so much riding up to the top of it.
Derek tended to agree. He wasn’t afraid of heights or anything, but he felt like being that high off the ground in a structure as old as the Eiffel Tower was might make him a little uncomfortable. So if Stiles felt they had no reason to go to the top and was happy taking pictures of it from the ground, he certainly wouldn’t complain.
“We can talk about the museums, if you want,” Stiles said excitedly, still flipping through his notebook. “We don’t have to go see all of them, but I definitely want to check out the Louvre. And I found a few other free places we could visit if you’d rather do that than go to museums, but I know you like that kind of thing and we’ll be in Paris, so I’m not gonna complain about walking around for hours looking at artwork.”
Derek was kind of taken aback at Stiles’ comment. It was true that he really enjoyed things like museums, but he figured Stiles might get bored. With his ADHD, it was hard for him to walk slowly through a bunch of exhibits without getting antsy, so the fact that he was willing to do it for Derek actually meant a lot to him.
“We can play it by ear,” Derek said, unable to stop the smile from forming on his lips. “We should make sure we do all the big ones first. The ones we want to do. Everything else we can figure out as the days pass. We’re really only going to be tied up for one evening because of the wedding, so we have a lot of time.”
“We’re trying crepes,” Stiles informed him, pointing a finger at him. “I am going to eat a crepe at every crepe shop I see! I want to try good, solid, real crepes.”
“You’ll go broke and get fat doing that,” Jackson informed him, leaning on the horn when someone didn’t move fast enough once the light changed to green.
Derek hadn’t even noticed they’d reached Sacramento, he’d been too distracted listening to Stiles’ excited yammering.
“At least I’ll be happy,” Stiles argued with a grin.
Jackson just grunted about Stiles being an idiot and said nothing else the rest of the drive, Stiles starting to talk about chocolate croissants and various other pastries he was planning on gorging himself on.
As they continued on, Derek felt like he was a little bit calmer. Stiles was so excited about everything related to this trip that it was hard to keep hold of all his anxiety. He wanted Stiles to have a good time, and he appreciated that Stiles had been looking at attractions that would interest Derek, even if he himself wasn’t particularly interested in them.
When they reached the drop-off area for the airport and climbed out, Jackson stopped Stiles when he went to open the trunk and turned to Derek.
“Go grab a cart,” he ordered.
“We don’t need a cart,” Stiles argued, rolling his eyes.
The look Jackson was giving Derek made it clear there was no room to argue, because he’d hold their bags hostage otherwise. Derek shook his head but turned obediently to go and find a cart for their luggage. He glanced over his shoulder when he went through the automatic double-doors into the main area of the airport, and saw Jackson gripping Stiles’ arm while speaking to him in low tones.
Derek could have eavesdropped. He was still close enough that he’d probably have been able to make out most of what was being said, but he didn’t. Maybe Jackson was just telling Stiles to be careful because of Kate. It was possible she could try something to get back at him for what had happened all those years ago, and now Derek was worrying about it.
Shit.
Forcing the thought from his mind, he found a cart for their stuff and went back outside to the car. Stiles looked pissed as Derek approached, but neither he nor Jackson were speaking to one another. Stiles was just angrily rooting through his messenger bag while Jackson got their luggage out of the trunk.
Derek stopped beside the car and grabbed for one of the bags, Jackson still holding the other one. They got both onto the cart, along with the suit bag, and Jackson slammed the trunk shut violently.
“Thanks for the ride,” Derek said after an awkward silence settled over them.
“Yeah, whatever,” was his ever-so-gracious response.
Stiles finished with whatever it was he was doing, muttered a thanks, and started to walk off before pausing. His shoulders were tense and it looked like he was trying to control his temper, considering he smelled pretty angry, but he eventually forced all his muscles to relax and turned back to Jackson.
“I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Jackson looked like he was going to be stubborn and refuse to acknowledge him, but eventually he said, “Have a safe flight.”
“Thanks.”
It occurred to Derek that, as angry as Stiles clearly was about—whatever had happened, he didn’t want to leave on bad terms. He supposed it made sense, Stiles had lost his mother at a young age, and his father was in a really dangerous line of work. He’d probably learned long ago that, no matter how mad he was with someone, he would always say goodbye properly.
Just in case.
The thought made Derek sad, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it too long, because Stiles had moved up to the cart and was beginning to push it towards the doors. Derek nodded a thanks to Jackson once more, the other Werewolf flashing his eyes at him menacingly and motioning Stiles’ retreating back in silent warning.
Derek didn’t deem that worthy of a response and just followed after Stiles.
When they went to check in their luggage, Stiles was still pretty annoyed, so Derek left him alone. He just stood beside him as they moved along slowly through the line until they reached the front. They checked in together, then headed for security so they could get to their gate early, just in case.
Derek got chosen for a random body search, because of course he did. This trip wasn’t nerve-wracking enough without thinking he’d accidentally brought an illegal substance with him. He knew he hadn’t, because he didn’t have any illegal substances at home, but it still kind of freaked him out.
The only upside to that was that when he went to join Stiles again, feeling a little better since the search hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought it would be, Stiles himself looked a little amused.
“Those agents just wanted to get their hands on you,” he teased, nudging Derek with his elbow.
“Rather they didn’t,” he muttered honestly.
“Sorry that happened to you, but it’s over now and we’re through. Only a nineteen hour flight with one connection in Chicago and we’ll be in Paris!”
Derek didn’t really want to think about it. It was bad enough the flights themselves were long, but the layover in Chicago was going to be hell. Stiles seemed to be in pretty high spirits when considering how shitty planes were.
They headed to their gate together and sat down in a row of empty chairs. Stiles left him to go and grab them both snacks and coffee from the Starbucks a few gates back and Derek stared out the large windows, watching planes land and take off.
When Stiles got back, he pulled his notebook out of his bag again and he and Derek sat and formally organized their trip. Derek didn’t really have to do anything, since Stiles had pretty much planned it out perfectly, and added in a bunch of things that would be of interest to Derek, too.
Apparently there was a famous cemetery in Paris, but Stiles said he wasn’t interested in going there for personal reasons. Derek figured it would remind him too much of his mother. He seemed okay with the catacombs though, and Derek thought those might be interesting.
There was also a Werewolf district about an hour from their hotel that Stiles had added to their trip for Derek. When he tried to talk him out of it, considering it was outside of town, Stiles was adamant that they were going because a lot of Werewolves online said it was really fun and he wasn’t going to let him miss out because they’d have to take public transit.
Derek’s chest warmed at how considerate Stiles was, and while he wished he could pretend this was a subtle gesture of love from him, he knew this was just how Stiles was. He wanted to make sure everyone was happy no matter what, so there was no point in reading into it too much.
When they were finally called to board, Derek was glad this was the shorter of their two flights, because they were in a three-seater with a stranger. Stiles offered to sit in the middle so that Derek could have the aisle seat, but Derek wasn’t comfortable having Stiles beside an unknown party for six-plus hours so he took the middle, even though it was uncomfortable.
It seemed to take forever for them to finally pull away from the gate and taxi to the runway. When the plane started picking up speed to take off, Derek gripped the armrests so tightly he was worried he might break them.
Stiles’ hand fell onto one of his and he leaned into his side.
“You’re okay, big guy. I’m right here with you.”
It helped a little bit, but not enough for him to relax until at least an hour into the flight.
It was going to be a long trip.
Charles de Gaulle Airport was a lot nicer than Sacramento International. It was big, and elegant, and classy, and basically everything Derek would’ve expected from the French. The airport itself seemed almost like a fancy hotel, and it was a little disorienting after having been stuck in a metal tube for what felt like ten years.
“This place is really nice,” Stiles said, voice thick with sleep as he slid one hand into Derek’s and squeezed tightly. It took a conscious effort for Derek not to rip his hand away, scared of being burned by this one simple touch, but he managed to resist and just turned to smile at Stiles.
His hair was sleep-mussed and his eyes looked a little droopy, like he was ready to pass back out any minute, but otherwise he was alert and excited. Their flight from Chicago was an overnight, and while Stiles had conked out with his head on Derek’s shoulder in the double-seater they had for their second flight, Derek himself hadn’t managed to sleep. He wasn’t surprised, but he also felt like it was probably a good thing.
It was a little past seven at night in Paris right now, so it meant that he wouldn’t be affected by the time change too badly if he could keep himself awake until at least ten. Stiles was going to have a harder time since he’d slept most of the second flight.
“Welcome to Paris,” Derek said with a smile, and Stiles grinned up at him dopily before leaning up for a kiss.
Derek’s heart did something weird in his chest at the action, but he obliged, bringing his free hand up to Stiles’ cheek and kissing him.
For the first time.
They’d talked about this in Chicago during their layover, because Stiles had mentioned being worried they might be spotted by people in the wedding party upon arrival. They’d basically agreed that the moment they touched down in Paris, they weren’t going to be friends anymore.
They were going to be Stiles and Derek.
He’d known it was coming. The hand-holding, the kissing, the general togetherness, but it still shocked him a little bit. How easily Stiles could just flip a switch from friend to boyfriend like this. They’d only been off the plane for five minutes, and already they were holding hands and kissing.
It wasn’t unusual, because Derek could see other tired couples walking around holding hands or hugging each other, or leaning against one another while they waited for something or another. It just felt weird because it was Stiles.
The kiss didn’t last long, just a small press of lips together, Stiles still smiling at him when he pulled away, then he turned to watch where the crowd of people were heading and tugged Derek along with their linked hands.
“Come on, let’s grab our stuff and head to the hotel. Do you want to order in or eat out tonight?”
“We’ve had a long day of travelling, let’s order in.”
“Fuck yeah, room service!” Stiles grinned at him. A woman nearby gave him a dirty look, presumably because of the swearing since she had two little girls with her, but Derek couldn’t be sure if it was that or the fact that they were holding hands and both clearly men.
Prejudice still existed in all its forms worldwide. He chose not to let the beginning of their trip be ruined by this and just decided to assume ‘fuck’ was a universally hated word and Stiles had yelled it a bit too loud.
They were surprisingly efficient at Charles de Gaulle, because customs was insanely quick and they were at baggage claim before the carousel had even started to move. Without Jackson there to bully them about a cart, they just waited around for their bags with everyone else who’d gotten off their flight.
Stiles had hugged him around the middle from the side, head resting against Derek’s left pectoral while his eyes remained trained on the carousel. Derek figured if Stiles was just going to do this, then he would, too. As much as he knew it was going to hurt, he followed Laura’s advice and decided he would take what he could get.
So he wrapped his own arms around Stiles, squeezing once, and then kissed the top of his head twice in succession before resting his chin on it, the two of them holding one another while they waited for their bags.
When they finally came around, Derek was worried their suits might have gotten lost between Chicago and Paris, since their suitcases came out relatively quickly. It turned out they had to go somewhere else for the suit bag, because it was considered ‘special/fragile cargo’ with the airline they were using. Thankfully they’d found someone who spoke enough English to help them figure that out and they went to find their last bag.
After everything had been gathered, they headed out towards the exit doors that led to arrivals where people were waiting to collect passengers. Derek saw a man holding a sign that said ‘Hale’ and headed towards him with Stiles.
“Hi, I’m Derek Hale.”
“Monsieur Hale, bienvenue à Paris.”
“French is so hot,” Stiles said. Derek resisted the urge to sigh, but the man in front of them, presumably from the hotel, just smiled a little. Clearly he was taking it as a compliment.
“We have a car waiting for you,” he said, his accent thick but understandable. “Please, allow me.” He motioned the luggage, putting the sign with Derek’s name away, and while Derek didn’t want this guy to feel like he needed to take his things, he also recognized it was his job and didn’t want to start a fight.
He only had the two hands though, so he ended up taking Stiles’ suitcase and the suit bag, Derek keeping hold of his own luggage.
“This way, please.”
He turned to lead the way towards the exit and their ride, and Stiles moved into Derek’s side as they walked. Derek wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer, and felt Stiles’ own arm slide around his back.
They headed out together with the hotel employee, the walk relatively short to the black, nondescript car that was parked in what seemed to be a special area of the parking lot reserved for hotel pick-ups and drop-offs.
Getting all the bags into the trunk, Stiles slid into the back seat first, Derek following him, and the other man joined them soon after. They were out of the parking lot and on the road in minutes, heading away from the airport and towards the heart of Paris where the hotel Kate’s wedding was being held at was located.
“Dude,” Stiles insisted, sounding awed. He practically had his face pressed against the glass as he stared out at the Eiffel Tower. It was lit up in the fading light of day, the backdrop of the setting sun bouncing off the lights and making it seem almost like it was floating in the distance.
“Wow,” he agreed.
“I’ve seen pictures but... It’s so nice. And huge. I mean, obviously, I know it’s meant to be huge, but I guess I always assumed it’d be about the same height as the Statue of Liberty.”
“I’m pretty sure the Eiffel Tower is three times the height of the Statue of Liberty,” Derek said. He didn’t know the numbers off the top of his head, but he felt like he remembered hearing about how tall the Eiffel Tower was, and it definitely dwarfed the Statue of Liberty now that he could see it in person. They were still pretty far out, and it looked massive.
“You will visit la Tour Eiffel?” their driver asked as he navigated downtown traffic like a pro. He probably had to make this trip multiple times a day.
“Oh hell yeah,” Stiles insisted, looking away to grin at the driver. “It’s like, the thing to visit, right? And it looks so cool!” Stiles looked back out the window. “Wow. Hey, actually, since we have you, can I ask you a question?” Stiles turned back to the man, who nodded in the affirmative. “Is it worth it going up the tower? We were just going to take some pictures of it and maybe walk around the bottom of it, but do you recommend actually going up it?”
“It is a beautiful view of the city,” the man said in his thick accent, “however you have a better one from Montparnasse.”
“Oh, we’re going there!” Stiles perked up and turned to Derek. “That’s on the list. Perfect! So now we know. Thank you!”
The driver laughed, and admitted that Montparnasse was the better option anyway since it was cheaper—not by much, but just enough to be worthwhile. If they were doing Montparnasse anyway, it wasn’t worth doing both the Eiffel Tower and the observation deck.
Stiles peppered him with a few more questions about sights while they drove, asking for his opinion about it, and how easy it was to get around. The driver’s English was really good, and he seemed to be really engaged in his conversation with Stiles.
Derek wasn’t surprised, because Stiles was very charismatic. It was easy for him to suck people in, which probably explained how he’d managed it with Derek all those years ago. Even as an annoying little thirteen-year-old, he’d still wormed his way into Derek’s heart. As a friend back then, but regardless, it was like Stiles’ superpower.
When they finally pulled up to the hotel, Derek couldn’t believe the deal they’d gotten for it because it was fucking gorgeous. It was clearly because of the wedding that they’d gotten a discount, but they were staying an extra week after the wedding for the same price, so they’d really lucked out.
“Room service here is going to cost a whole paycheck,” Stiles whispered to Derek as the driver climbed out.
“I’m paying for it, don’t worry.”
Stiles let out an affronted sound. “Excuse me, we will both be paying for it. No way am I letting you pay for everything, this city is expensive.”
“We’re here because of me, so argue all you want, but I’m paying.”
“We both know I always win, so I’m not gonna worry about it,” Stiles said with a grin, leaning over to plant another quick kiss on Derek’s lips before cackling and exiting the car.
Derek took a second to compose himself before following. He wasn’t going to get used to Stiles just kissing him like that. Like it was normal. Like they were actually dating.
A bellhop had come out to get their bags for them and they both thanked the driver for putting up with Stiles’ constant chatter—well, that’s what Derek said, Stiles insisted he was a delight. Derek tipped the man, unsure if that was even a thing in France, but when he wasn’t refused he figured it was allowed.
They headed inside with the bellhop, heading to the concierge where he only saw two groups waiting to check in or check out. They were able to walk up to a free employee immediately, the woman smiling at them brilliantly.
“Bonjour, bienvenue!”
“Bonjour!” Stiles said loudly, beaming at her. It was probably the extent of the French he knew. Derek had a little bit of French in his repertoire from two semesters at university, but to say he was rusty would be an understatement.
“Hi,” he said, a bit more calmly than Stiles. He reached up to place one hand on Stiles’ back, rubbing up and down his spine, and loving how right it felt. “Checking in under Derek Hale. We’re here for the Argent wedding?”
“Ah, of course.” Her accent was even thicker than the driver’s, and Derek hoped he could understand her.
She typed away for a few seconds before calling out to the bellhop. They spoke in French for a brief moment, and then the man nodded and disappeared with their bags. Derek figured she’d just given him the room number to drop them off in.
He’d never been in a hotel this fancy before, he wasn’t sure how the tip worked if his bags were delivered without him there.
The check-in process was relatively quick. They were in one of the fancier rooms since they were part of the wedding bundle, and the woman just needed a copy of one of their IDs and a credit card to charge any room service or damage to. Derek and Stiles fought for that, but Derek ended up winning by trapping both of Stiles’ arms together across his chest, one arm wrapped around him to keep them there.
It was so fucking domestic that it made Derek’s chest ache, but he refused to let it get him down. He was going to enjoy this. He’d never had the opportunity to hold Stiles like this before. To rub a soothing hand along his back, or pull him into a hug, or kiss him. Like Laura had suggested, he was going to take advantage of it.
Once they had their room key—one each—the woman directed them to the elevator and bid them a pleasant stay. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulders after thanking her, and the two of them headed for the elevators.
He didn’t know if the concierge had hit a button to announce his presence, or if someone had spotted him and reported back, but they hadn’t even reached the lifts yet when a woman wearing a tight red dress, perfect blonde curls and subtle make-up came out from the area that led to the restaurants and stood right in their path.
Derek felt his entire body tense at the sight of her, and every horrible thing she’d ever said to him came flooding back to the surface. He hated that his immediate reaction to seeing her, even after all these years, was to hunch his shoulders and try and make himself smaller. It took a conscious effort for him not to, and he was pretty sure he only succeeded because Stiles pressed into his side harder, squeezing his waist tightly with the arm he had around his back.
Kate had a smarmy look on her face, as if she was well aware of how she was affecting Derek. “Derek. It’s been a while.”
“Kate,” he said automatically, and applauded himself for sounding normal instead of nervous.
She looked almost exactly the same as the last time he’d seen her five years ago. Beautiful, confident, and as much as he hated to admit it, really classy. She held herself like a queen addressing her subjects, back straight and chin high, and Derek was sure she was waiting for him to lower his gaze in submission, which was why he fought really, really hard not to.
He attributed it entirely to Stiles at his side, because he knew no matter what happened, this was the man who’d pieced him back together after all the abuse he’d endured. While this trip would likely have him broken beyond repair because it would be Stiles accidentally doing the breaking, for now, he was going to take strength in his presence.
Evidently he wasn’t reacting the way she was hoping, because her confident and smarmy expression slipped slightly, though that may also have had something to do with the fact that her eyes had shifted to the person he was currently pressed into. Kate’s lips did a weird little twist before she was able to cover it up, and when she smiled at him again, it looked a little tighter.
“I see you brought the gremlin with you,” Kate said. Her tone was light and teasing, but Derek could hear the underlying truth in it. She was pissed to see Stiles beside him, because she knew he was one of the main reasons Derek had broken up with her.
Stiles had been the one to block Derek’s door time and again when Kate came looking for him after they’d split. Boyd might’ve been the bigger body, but Stiles was much scarier. It suddenly made him feel powerful having shown up with him at his side.
It wasn’t something he was used to feeling in her presence.
“Your evilness,” Stiles said sarcastically, offering a fake smile of his own. “Shouldn’t you be stuck under a house in Munchkinland right now? How is Dorothy supposed to get her red slippers if you’re not there to get crushed for them?”
Kate’s smile stayed in place, but Derek could see her jaw clenching, like she was grinding her teeth. Her eyes shot back to Derek, and he could tell based on her expression that she did not approve. A stab of disappointment shot through Derek at that, not liking that he’d upset her, but he forced the feeling away. Boyd’s words from a month ago played on a loop in his head.
You don’t owe her anything. You do not owe her anything.
Before she could say anything that he was sure would hit home, he said, “I told you that you wouldn’t like my plus one. It was why I wasn’t going to invite him.”
He was suddenly so, so grateful to Stiles for this, because honestly, that lie was only believable because of who he’d ended up bringing along. When he’d emailed Kate after her initial response to him, Stiles, Boyd and Erica had been at his back ensuring he didn’t say anything self-deprecating. Explaining he did have a plus one, but she wouldn’t be happy with who it was, had been the lie he’d told as an explanation for why he hadn’t included them in the original confirmation of attendance, but if she was okay with him bringing them, he would very much like to.
Of course, Kate being the manipulative bitch she was, had agreed whole-heartedly and made note that there would be an extra person if he managed to find someone willing to come along with him.
Seeing her face now was worth everything that would happen this week, because she definitely hadn’t expected him to show up wrapped around Stiles.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Kate said, her tone suggesting it very much wasn’t fine. “Certainly explains a lot about you, though.” Her smile was sugary sweet and Derek felt himself tensing again unintentionally because he knew something horrible was going to escape her mouth. “You know, it always surprised me how much trouble you had getting it up when we were being intimate. I suppose this makes a lot of sense, what with you being broken and all.” She motioned Stiles with one hand, and Derek felt his chest clench.
Was she implying him liking a guy meant he was broken?!
Stiles apparently caught on to that as well, because he shot back rapid fire. “I guess so, because Derek has no problems getting hard when we’re about to fuck. I doubt you ever got the full experience. I promised him we wouldn’t do anything during your wedding week though.” His smile was all teeth and he lowered his voice in a mock-whisper. “I can get pretty loud. That’s what happens when your boyfriend is fucking your brains out.”
Kate’s smile slid right off her face, expression hardening and closing off as she stared at Stiles.
“He can stay,” she said, looking at Stiles but clearly speaking to Derek. “Provided he behaves himself.”
“Don’t worry, Derek knows how to keep me in line. Except in the bedroom, because being naughty reaps its own rewards.”
Jesus Christ, Derek was going to have a fucking aneurism.
“You know, I’m surprised you’re willing to let me within ten feet of your husband-to-be,” Stiles continued before Derek could beg him to shut up before he made things worse. He recognized the anger on Kate’s face and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that. “Aren’t you scared I’ll ruin this relationship for you like I did your last one?”
Stiles leaned further into Derek at this, who felt like he’d turned to stone. He didn’t know what to do. He needed to stop Stiles from antagonizing Kate further, but he had no idea what to say or how to diffuse the situation. She was so pissed off and Derek didn’t want to get punished for this.
Kate’s laugh was loud, fake, and sounded almost hysterical. It made Derek flinch unintentionally and Stiles had to lean into him even more. He was threatening to knock them both over, at this point.
“Please,” Kate said loudly, ignoring the fact that they were now attracting attention from other hotel guests. “I was already working on the best way to break the news to him when you bullied him into breaking up with me. If anything, you did me a favour.”
Stiles beamed at her, but the smile was decidedly unfriendly. Derek felt like a wolf trapped between two hunters right now. He was kind of too scared to say anything, but he wanted to go before Stiles pissed Kate off enough that someone broke into their room later and murdered them both in their sleep.
A little extreme, he was sure, but Kate was good at making Derek’s life miserable. He was starting to worry she was going to try and find a way to break him and Stiles up before the week was out.
Joke was on her, they weren’t actually dating. That was probably a good thing, in this case.
“I’m pretty sure I did me a favour by helping him get rid of you. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in love with him? Getting you out of the picture meant he was single again and I didn’t wait long to swoop in. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I guess I have you to thank for making me realize what I almost lost by letting you have him for two years.”
Derek would literally do anything for those words to be real. For Stiles to be in love with him. For him to have been glad when he and Kate broke up, not only because she was horrible, manipulative and abusive, but because it meant Stiles could actually have a chance with him.
This vacation was going to ruin him, he could feel it already.
Before Kate could say anything else, like she clearly wanted to, someone came out from the same area she’d appeared from wearing a smart suit and his hair slicked back. Derek figured that had to be the fiancé.
“Kate, everything okay?”
The shift was instantaneous. The anger on her face disappeared and she slipped a mask into place so efficiently that Derek felt he could’ve imagined the look that had been there a second ago. She turned to her husband-to-be as he approached and grabbed hold of his arm, practically clinging to him with her eyes shifting to Derek.
It occurred to him she was checking to see if he’d be jealous.
He wasn’t. He had Stiles, what did he care about her and her fiancé?
Well, no, he didn’t have Stiles, but for right now he could pretend he did.
“Honey,” she said, voice syrupy sweet. “You didn’t have to come check on me, I was just welcoming some guests. You remember me talking about my old friend Derek, right?”
The man looked over at him and Stiles and seemed a little startled. Derek didn’t know what it was about, but Stiles made a noise beside him that sounded suspiciously like he was trying to cover a laugh with a cough. He’d have to ask him about it later.
“Oh, yes. It’s nice to meet you, Derek. I’m Ben.” He held one hand out, the one not currently being clung to by Kate, and Derek shook it. “You’re the Beta Werewolf, right?”
Derek tensed at that, but Stiles jumped in immediately.
“His mom is the Alpha of their pack. You know, the Hales? The oldest known pack in the United States?”
“Wait, you’re a Hale?” The fiancé asked, perking up slightly. Derek ignored the way Kate’s smile faltered, because clearly this wasn’t going the way she was expecting. “That’s amazing, I did a dissertation on your ancestors for my Masters, I had no idea I’d be talking to a flesh and blood Hale the week of my wedding! You didn’t tell me the Werewolf you were talking about all this time was a Hale,” he insisted, turning to Kate, who’d plastered the smile back on.
“Didn’t I? Must’ve slipped my mind.”
It wouldn’t even have occurred to Derek to mention his last name. He was so used to everyone in Beacon Hills knowing who he was and what his family name meant that he sometimes forgot it wasn’t common knowledge outside Beacon Hills. The same thing had happened to him at university when he’d joined a Werewolf history class and the professor had actually approached him to ask if he was one of those Hales.
Like with every Supernatural creature, Werewolves had to start somewhere, and apparently the Hales were direct descendants of the original Werewolf line. The first born Werewolves. Apparently Derek’s grandfather had been the one to figure it out through a genealogy hobby he had, and after doing a DNA test, the Hale name exploded worldwide because of the discovery.
Derek didn’t think about it much, and he hadn’t assumed someone marrying Kate, who was descended from a Hunter family, would care about Werewolf history, but apparently he was wrong.
“Derek, I’d love to have the chance to talk to you about your family sometime this week,” Ben said, and he looked so excited Derek didn’t know what to do other than nod.
He was still holding Derek’s hand, like he didn’t want to let go. It was weird, but not in a malicious way. Just in a Derek-didn’t-like-people-touching-him way.
“Great!” Ben smiled at him, looking excited, and Derek suddenly felt a stab of guilt for not warning this guy away from Kate. She was such a horrible person, and he worried about what she would do to someone this bright and happy.
Then again, Derek had been like that originally, too. Two years with Kate was what had beaten him down into the man he’d become from her constant abuse. Ben was human though, and as far as he understood from the wedding invitation, they’d been together a long time. And even now, Kate was putting on appearances with him, so it was entirely possible she was sweet as pie with him and honestly loved him, but because Derek was a Werewolf—and a bisexual one, at that—he was beneath her and worth stepping on.
“Sorry,” Ben suddenly said, and he turned to look at Stiles. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, just got a little starstruck.”
“That’s okay, I know the feeling. I usually lose the ability to speak when I look at Derek, too.” Stiles winked and held out his free hand. “I’m Stiles.”
“Good to meet you.”
“You too. Thanks for letting us come last minute.”
Last minute? Derek didn’t understand why Stiles had said that, but he didn’t exactly have the ability to ask considering the ongoing conversation.
“Sorry it was so last minute. I’m glad you could make it though.”
“Are you kidding?” Stiles laughed. “Coming to Paris, the city of love, with the love of my life for a wedding? It’s a dream, man. This is going to be the best vacation, I owe you a gift basket.”
Ben laughed easily and Derek watched with borderline amazement as Ben and Stiles chatted amiably together. He could tell Kate was annoyed about it, likely because she didn’t want Ben to like Stiles—or Derek, but especially not Stiles—but she couldn’t exactly say anything without sounding like a bitch.
Eventually, after Kate had stopped clinging to Ben’s arm and he’d wrapped it around her waist, he seemed to realize how much time had passed and turned to kiss Kate’s temple.
“We should get back, your dad was wondering where you ran off to, and he’ll send out a search party before long.” Derek could see how much Ben loved her, how honest his easy kisses and gentle touches were. He really hoped she was good to him, because he seemed like a really nice guy.
“Of course.” Kate smiled at him, then turned back to Derek and Stiles. Her expression was a bit tighter when she looked at them. “It was nice seeing you, Derek. We should catch up soon.”
“Can’t wait,” Stiles said, overly cheerful.
Kate cut him a scathing look, since Ben wasn’t looking, and then turned to head back for the restaurant, Ben’s hand at the small of her back.
“Ben seems nice,” Stiles said, tugging at Derek’s middle with the arm wrapped around his back and starting them towards the elevators again. “Too bad about his fiancé.”
“Do you think I should say something?” Derek asked, Stiles reaching out to hit the button to call the lift.
“What do you mean?”
“About Kate. About... you know...” He didn’t want to say it aloud. While he knew any of the Werewolves Kate had around were well aware of what kind of person she was, he still didn’t want to badmouth her in case it came back to bite him.
“I don’t think so,” Stiles said, moving aside a bit when the doors opened to let people out, and then entering the elevator. He pulled away from Derek while doing so, and he missed his warmth at his side instantly.
They were on the fourth floor, so Stiles hit the button and waited as the doors closed, the two of them the only ones in the large, extravagant elevator.
“Ben is human, and she seems to really like him. It’s not the same as when she was with you. She wanted to control you, and basically turn you into a pet.” He spat the last word like a vile curse. “But you can tell she wants this to work with Ben. Gotta say though, loved his face when he finally saw you.” Stiles let out another laugh, shaking his head.
Derek frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The look? The one he had when he actually realized you were the Derek Kate was telling him about? It was obvious she made you sound like some kind of monstrous hunchback or something, that’s why he looked so surprised when he saw your handsome face.”
Stiles grinned at him, and leaned forward then, pressing his lips against Derek’s. The kiss wasn’t deep, but it lingered, Derek bringing one hand up to cup Stiles’ cheek. When the elevator dinged, Derek wished he could hit the emergency button to have the doors stay shut, but he reluctantly let Stiles pull away and they turned to exit the lift as the doors opened.
They followed signs towards their room, and Stiles let out a slightly dismayed sound at the sight of the bellhop waiting outside their door.
“Shit, have you been waiting this whole time?!” he blurted out, moving away from Derek to rush down the corridor. “We’re so sorry!”
The man just smiled and said it wasn’t a problem in French. Stiles hastily reached for his wallet, but Derek pushed him insistently through the open door, ignoring his squawk of indignation, and reached for his own wallet. He knew that wasn’t what the man was waiting for, since he was holding what looked like a pamphlet, but he took the money with an enthusiastic thanks and then held out the pamphlet, using broken English to point out various amenities the hotel had, along with all the relevant numbers they could call for various things.
He didn’t see one for room service on the list though. “Sorry, and for room service?”
The guy frowned at him, and Derek tried to think back on all his French. “Uh, chambre?” He motioned the room, knowing that word meant ‘room.’ “Chambre service?” He winced when he said the last word in English.
“Ah, service de chambre? La nourriture?” He mimed eating and Derek nodded.
“Oui, nourriture.”
The bellhop held up one finger, and then motioned into the room, as if silently asking if he could go back in. Derek nodded and the man entered the room, heading past the bathroom and the bed to the desk against the far wall. Derek followed him without looking around yet, and the bellhop picked up the phone, then pointed to the list of numbers available beneath the receiver.
It looked like the pamphlet had the important ones for the front desk and emergencies, but the phone actually listed a whole bunch of other numbers. One of them said ‘Service de Chambre,’ so he knew that was the one to call for their dinner.
“Merci.” He was glad to remember at least that.
The man smiled at him, and said, “Si vous avez besoin de quelque chose, n’hésitez pas de nous laisser savoir.”
“Oui!” Stiles proclaimed loudly from the bed he’d jumped on, like a child. That was obviously one of the only French words he knew.
“Merci,” Derek said again with a smile, and the bellhop inclined his head and left the room, shutting the door behind him. Derek turned to look at Stiles. “He said if we needed anything else to let him know.”
“And you didn’t tell him I required sustenance?” Stiles asked, pretending to be offended.
Derek rolled his eyes, crossing his arms while moving closer to the bed and standing at the foot of it. “I asked him about the room service number. The menu’s probably in one of the drawers.”
“Good, because I am hungry,” Stiles said, splayed out on the bed. Derek couldn’t help but feel all the tenseness from moments ago leave him at the sight of Stiles starfishing in the middle of the bed, wearing Derek’s Henley and looking fucking perfect.
“What?” Stiles asked, evidently because Derek stood there staring for too long.
“Nothing. Just happy you’re here with me.”
Stiles’ smile was soft and he sat up, pulling himself to the end of the bed so he was looking up at Derek. “Me too. We’re gonna have a good time, promise.”
Despite his better judgement, Derek uncrossed his arms and reached out with one hand, cupping Stiles’ cheek and brushing his thumb along his skin. “Yeah. Yeah, we will.”
The two of them stared at one another for a long while, and Derek realized this was far too intimate for a moment nobody could see. They had to watch what they said because of people listening in, but no one could see them so what the actual fuck was he doing?!
Stiles seemed to realize that at the same moment, because he stood abruptly, Derek taking a step back so they weren’t pressed right up against each other, and said, “The room’s nice, right?”
“Yeah,” Derek agreed, looking around it properly. It was a standard hotel room, with just the bathroom, a small closet, the bed with a TV across from it, some night tables and a desk, but it looked much bigger than the ones he’d ever been in. The bed itself looked like a king, and was massive.
“The shower’s big enough to fit four people,” Stiles said, waggling his eyebrows. “Maybe we should test the space in there.”
“We’re not having sex during this trip Stiles, we already talked about this,” Derek said, trying for exasperated. Because that was what they’d talked about before leaving Beacon Hills, the story being that Stiles was loud in bed and Derek didn’t want to get kicked out of a fancy hotel.
“Spoilsport.” Stiles winked at him, but moved away so he could hunt down the menu and order food. “You good for food?”
“Sure, I might take a shower while we wait though. Need to get all these foreign scents off me.”
“Right, I should probably do that too.” Stiles looked down at himself, tugging absently at the Henley he wore, and then looked up at Derek, a glint in his eye. “Want company?”
Christ almighty, Derek was so screwed.
“No,” he said dryly. “No sex.”
“You have no sense of adventure!” Stiles argued, but obediently fell back onto the bed, menu in hand. Derek went to join him to see what they had and once he confirmed his order with Stiles, he went to take a shower, being sure to bring his pyjamas with him so he wasn’t walking around in a towel in front of Stiles.
He made sure to turn the cold water on, bracing himself against the tile and bowing his head while he breathed. They’d only been in the hotel for a few minutes, and already he was struggling to keep his composure. He wanted to kiss Stiles again. He wanted to make out with him like they were horny teenagers and see if Stiles really was as loud as they were pretending he was.
Derek winced when he felt all the blood in his body rushing south and did his best to will the problem away. He was not going to beat off to thoughts of Stiles in the shower with Stiles right outside the door.
He wasn’t going to do it. He was an adult, he had self-control, he could resist!
Derek beat off in the shower.
He hated that he did, and he was ashamed of himself, but after everything that had happened today, knowing Stiles would never sniff him out, he couldn’t help it.
Because he didn’t want to make Stiles suspicious, he went quick and hard, hand moving rapidly in an attempt to just get off so he could at least be rid of the problem. He had to bite into the forearm he had braced against the wall when he came, eyes clenched shut tightly enough to see stars.
He heard their food arrive while he was still washing away his shame, and made quick work of soaping himself down and climbing out. Once he was dry and in his pyjama pants, he pulled on a shirt he’d brought to sleep in to make things less awkward with Stiles and then headed back into the room.
Stiles was still sitting in the middle of the bed, but he had his legs crossed under him and a laptop open in front of him. He was reading something on the screen while biting at his thumbnail absently, the sleeve of Derek’s Henley long enough to cover most of his hand.
Derek put his dirty laundry in the small bag provided for it by the hotel—he wasn’t planning on having them clean his clothes, but would take advantage of the bag—and noticed the food was set on the desk, still covered.
Both plates.
“You didn’t eat?”
“Hm?” Stiles asked, eyes still on his screen. He finished what he was reading, then looked up, and followed his gaze to the food. “Oh, no. Why would I eat without you?”
“You were hungry.”
“You weren’t in there that long,” Stiles insisted, rolling his eyes as he shut his laptop.
Derek was glad he didn’t seem to think anything was amiss. He walked over to the food and pulled both lids off, then brought both to the bed with cutlery in one hand. Stiles moved his laptop aside and took his plate with a quiet thanks, Derek handing him the wrapped utensils before sitting down next to him.
“I didn’t know you brought your laptop.”
“You never know when it might be needed,” Stiles argued, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes and letting out a pleased sound. “Besides, I figured it would help with like, looking up buses or trains or whatever to get around. Took me a while to figure out the Wi-Fi.” He took another bite of his food, then made a noise of excitement and pointed his fork at Derek. “Hey, did you know the Empire State building is taller than the Eiffel Tower?”
“Is it?” Derek asked with a small smile, because Stiles’ excitement was catching, and he loved how he always looked things up like this.
“Yeah, I was thinking about it after what we talked about in the car, about the Statue of Liberty. I looked up what was taller than the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State building is one of them. It’s kind of weird though, I’ve been to the Empire State building and it doesn’t feel like it should be taller when you’re there. I guess it’s because of the structure? Or like, the shape? I don’t know, just thought it was interesting.”
Stiles took another bite of his food and Derek watched him as he ate. It felt really surreal to be in Paris of all places with Stiles right now. Especially like this. Much as he was still out of sorts from seeing Kate, having Stiles all happy and excited and looking up facts like what building was taller than the Eiffel Tower made it so much better.
And even though the bed was big enough to fit five people comfortably, knowing Stiles was right beside him was going to be the most amazing feeling.
When they were done eating, Stiles proclaimed it was his turn to take a shower. Derek had a brief moment of panic at the thought that maybe Stiles would know what he’d done, but he squashed that fear quickly because there was no way.
Stiles wandered over to his suitcase, and as soon as he opened it, Derek couldn’t help it.
He started to laugh.
“What?” Stiles demanded.
“I knew it,” Derek insisted, shaking his head. “I knew it!”
Stiles just gave him a weird look, but Derek didn’t explain.
Resting at the top of Stiles’ clothes, the first thing he could see upon opening the suitcase, was Stiles’ pillow.
He knew he wouldn’t leave home without it.
Derek jerked awake when he felt something pressing against his chest, eyes peeling open in time to see Stiles’ face inches from his.
“Sorry,” Stiles said, voice thick with sleep and eyes barely open.
Grunting in response, because that was about as much as he could get out right now, Derek closed his eyes again and tried to let sleep take him once more.
It was harder than he’d originally intended, because his sluggish brain was trying to figure out why Stiles had been hovering over him like that. It wasn’t until he realized there was a patch of wetness in the centre of his chest that he clued in to what had happened.
At some point in the night, Stiles had rolled into him and slept with his head on Derek’s chest. It wasn’t a surprise honestly, people tended to want to be close to another body in bed with them, even in their sleep. Stiles must’ve just woken up and realized where he was, and before he could fully move off him, Derek had woken up.
He wished he could appreciate it more, but he felt like it was still the middle of the night despite the light shining through the sheer curtains. They’d evidently forgotten to close the curtains the night before and now that he was semi-awake, the light stabbing at his eyeballs through his closed lids was difficult to ignore.
Honestly, he was ready to roll over and shove his pillow over his head to get back to sleep, but he could hear Stiles moving around in the room and remembered they were in Paris. He probably wanted to go out sightseeing and explore, which meant Derek didn’t have the ability to lie in bed until mid-day.
A low growl left him without his permission, but if Stiles heard, he didn’t comment on it. Derek was pretty sure Stiles had enough experience around him when he was just waking up to not poke the bear. He was stupidly brave, but not suicidal.
Derek frowned when he heard the door open and shut a few minutes later, but figured Stiles was just going to get some food or something. He doubted he’d been ditched, no matter how grumpy he was in the morning.
It took him an additional five minutes to convince himself to get up, but eventually he growled low in his throat again, rolled over, and forced himself out of bed. Checking the time on the bedside clock showed it was just after nine, which was outright blasphemous for a vacation. Then again, they’d both crashed early because of jetlag, so he’d gotten a solid ten hours of sleep, at least.
Still, could do with a few more, but he didn’t want Stiles to miss out on the touristy stuff.
Trudging his way to the bathroom, he grumbled under his breath about nothing in particular, mostly just angry at being awake in general. Shutting the door, he relieved himself and used his toiletries to brush his teeth and hair, and trim his beard.
He was just finishing up when he heard the bedroom door open and shut again. Just as he was putting everything back in his travel bag, there was a light, almost tentative knock, at the bathroom door. Scowling, because he wasn’t ready to be engaged in conversation yet, Derek sighed internally before opening the door.
He blinked at the sight that greeted him, which was Stiles holding out a take-out cup of coffee.
He didn’t say anything, he just smiled brilliantly at Derek like the morning person he was, and kept his hand extended.
Frowning, Derek took the coffee, grunted what might’ve been, “Thanks,” and took a sip.
Stiles turned and headed back into the main part of the room, still not saying a word.
He wasn’t sure he understood what had just happened, but he didn’t question it, standing there sipping at his coffee for a few seconds before putting the cup on the counter and finishing up with organizing his toiletries. Once he was done, he turned off the light and headed back out into the main room with his coffee.
Stiles was on the bed again, the covers up and over the sheets in a poor attempt to make it. He didn’t blame him, Derek didn’t make his bed at home either.
He had his computer out in front of him again with a coffee in one hand, resting on his bent knee. Derek eyed him while walking across the room to his suitcase, and noticed when he reached it that there was a paper bag on the desk. It had some kind of bakery-sounding name emblazoned on the side, suggesting that was also where the coffee was from.
Derek couldn’t help but feel a little touched when he realized what was going on.
Stiles knew he wasn’t a morning person, so he’d gotten up first and gone out to grab them coffee and, presumably, breakfast. And now he was giving Derek his space while he slowly woke up until he felt able to have a civilized conversation.
Jesus, when he said he’d boyfriend me like I’d never been boyfriended before, he wasn’t kidding, Derek realized, turning to glance at Stiles over his shoulder.
He was squinting at his computer, not even noticing that Derek was looking at him.
Shaking his head, a smile tugging at his lips, Derek grabbed some clothes to change into, drained half of his remaining coffee, and went to change in the bathroom. He didn’t bother closing the door, since Stiles couldn’t see him due to the layout, and a part of him was paranoid about one of Kate’s friends hearing him changing behind a closed bathroom door.
By the time he came out, he felt more awake and willing to interact with another person. Tossing his pyjamas on top of his clothes in his suitcase, he shut the lid and then grabbed his coffee and the paper bag.
Steeling himself, because he was about to make the first move in this fake dating scenario for the first time, he exhaled slowly, then turned to go and join Stiles on the bed. He’d left his shoes at the foot of it so he didn’t get any dirt up on the comforter, and Derek almost stepped on them but managed not to faceplant onto the bed.
That would’ve been an embarrassing first attempt at this whole fake dating thing.
Stepping up onto the bed with his bare feet, he shifted to sit down beside Stiles, coffee in one hand and bag of pastries in the other, and then leaned over to kiss his cheek.
“Morning.”
“He is coffee’d enough to communicate like something other than a caveman!” Stiles proclaimed with a cheeky smile, turning to him. He leaned forward to kiss Derek properly, lips brushing his and lingering for a few seconds. It was so fucking intimate that Derek wanted to melt. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Derek repeated.
“You said that already,” Stiles insisted with a wink.
“What are you looking at?” Derek asked, rearranging himself on the bed so he could lean over to put his coffee on the night stand.
“Just checking prices of things, mostly. I figure if you’re up for it, we can do a slow walk around the Eiffel Tower today and maybe go—hey, hey, hey!” Stiles grabbed wildly at the paper bag Derek had just opened, one hand buried in it. For a second he thought Stiles was going to insist the food wasn’t for him, but he understood why he’d stopped him a moment later. “You wanna sleep with croissant bits in your buttcrack? These things are flaky, we’re not eating this on the bed! You wanna eat, you go to the desk.” Stiles used the hand holding his coffee to motion back where the paper bag had been.
“But you’re not at the desk, so I can’t eat and be close to you at the same time,” Derek insisted, the flirt coming out surprisingly easily.
Stiles stared at him in silence for a long while, and Derek noticed a flush slowly creeping up his neck. It looked like he wanted to say something, but they were still technically in character, so he settled for turning away from Derek, shoving his shoulder, and muttering, “Shut up, you sap.”
Derek did end up rolling off the bed, though. He was actually really hungry, and he figured the pastries were just to tide them over until they could stop somewhere to get a nice, hearty breakfast. While this whole trip was going to be expensive, Derek still wanted to take advantage of it, and he was planning on spoiling Stiles both as a thank you and to prove how good of a boyfriend he could be.
Maybe he could convince Stiles that they should make this real by the end of the trip.
Stiles was muttering to himself and scrolling through pages on the internet while Derek ate two different croissants, one with ham and cheese in the middle and the other with some kind of jam. Stiles had warned him the chocolate croissant was his and his alone, and while he’d bought two of them—presumably so Derek could have one if he wanted to—he figured he’d leave them both for Stiles. The other two were good enough anyway, he’d let Stiles indulge in his chocolate addiction.
Eventually he shut his laptop and stood, moving to the desk to devour his own breakfast while Derek collected his wallet and phone. He’d kept it turned off since they’d landed, but he liked having the weight of it in his pocket. And having it on him for emergencies wasn’t a bad thing.
“Ready to go?” Stiles asked, cramming the last of his second croissant into his mouth. Derek laughed and shook his head, then reached out to brush his thumb along the edge of Stiles’ mouth.
“You’re impossible. Can’t take you anywhere.”
“You love me.”
Yes. Yes he did.
“Come on. Let’s go make a dent in that insane list you have.”
“You love my list. It has all the makings of a good time.”
Derek wrapped one arm around Stiles’ shoulders, kissed his temple, and headed for the door with him. They walked out into the corridor, Stiles hanging the ‘please make up room’ sign on the handle—it was in French, but the picture on it clearly wasn’t ‘do not disturb’ so it stood to reason it was the ‘make up room’ side.
They headed to the elevator together, Derek’s arm still thrown over Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles speaking excitedly about the Eiffel Tower. Apparently he’d brought a small camera that belonged to his dad since he couldn’t use his phone to take pictures, and he was looking forward to all the cool things they were going to see.
Derek tensed when they got into the elevator, because he recognized one of Kate’s friends from university. She gave him a disgusted look, moving away from him as much as possible in the small space, and flashed her red eyes at him. Derek just lowered his gaze and moved to the other side of the lift with Stiles.
It was obvious he’d noticed the shift, but to his credit, he didn’t pause in his excited babble. He was basically acting like the other Werewolf—Derek was pretty sure he remembered her name being Kali—wasn’t there.
When the doors opened, Derek started to rush out, but Stiles tugged hard to stop him from making a mad dash, and turned to look at Kali, offering her a smile.
“Please, after you.”
She sneered at Stiles, gave Derek a disgusted look, and then exited the elevator. Stiles flipped her off behind her back, and turned to look at him.
“Don’t let her friends intimidate you. You were invited, and you have every right to be here. She can shove those red eyes of hers up her ass.”
Derek managed a weak smile, and leaned over to kiss Stiles’ temple before they exited the elevator, some other guests having started to push their way in.
As they headed across the lobby towards the door, Stiles excitedly proclaiming they were about to spend the day horrendously lost, Derek heard someone call out his name and turned.
“Oh my God, it is you!”
Despite how shitty Kate was, the sight of the person rushing towards him had him smiling. “Hey Allison.”
“Hey!” Allison Argent practically jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly while she laughed. He wrapped his own arms around her and squeezed. “It’s been so long. How are you?”
“I’m good,” he said, releasing her when she started to pull away. “I’m really good. Wow, you look amazing.”
“Thank you.” She was smiling so wide that it kind of reminded him of Stiles a little bit.
He’d always really liked Allison. She’d been at the same university as him and when he and Kate were dating, she tended to be around a lot. They were the same age, so they hung out every now and then even when Kate wasn’t around. They’d kind of lost touch after he’d broken up with Kate, but Allison had always been nice to him.
Even the few times she’d seen him after the break-up, she’d always smiled and waved at him in passing. Derek knew she and Scott had become friends at some point, though it was still a little bit unclear how that had happened. As far as he understood, Allison’s then-boyfriend was a lacrosse player, and he’d played against Scott’s university team at one point. Allison had gone to support him, and somehow she and Scott had ended up talking and they’d discovered they both knew Derek.
This had happened after the break-up, so he hadn’t really made it a point to keep track of Allison. He knew she and Scott still chatted on Facebook, but that was about it.
“It’s really nice to see you,” Allison said, her smile genuine as she reached out one hand to grip his arm tightly. “Seriously, you look really great. I was really excited to hear you were coming.”
“You weren’t that excited.”
Derek’s eyes shifted to the man coming up beside her. He was incredibly tall, with strong features, curly blond hair, and insane cheekbones. He wrapped one arm around Allison’s waist, pulling her into his side, and continued speaking.
“You were happy he was coming because you wanted to catch up, but you were worried about how Kate was going to treat him.”
Hearing that made Derek’s chest warm, and he was again reminded of how much he’d liked Allison back when he and Kate were dating.
“Still excited,” Allison argued, nudging at the guy who was clearly her boyfriend. “This is Isaac. Isaac, this is Derek.”
“Hi.” Derek held his hand out, the other man shaking it. He could tell he was a Werewolf, but his scent was a little different which suggested he was bitten. Derek couldn’t help but wonder how Kate treated him, since having a born Beta Werewolf warranted her disdain. He couldn’t imagine what a bitten Beta Werewolf would have to endure.
Realizing Allison was still smiling at him, eyes skirting to the person beside him, Derek immediately turned to look at Stiles.
“Right, sorry. This is Stiles.”
“Hey,” Stiles said, shaking Allison’s hand first, and then Isaac’s.
“Are you responsible for how happy he looks?” Allison asked Stiles, leaning into Isaac and resting her cheek on his shoulder. He was rubbing up and down her back, and it occurred to Derek how much all the couples here touched each other.
Not that he and Stiles were any different, but it was them playing it up to keep up the ruse. He figured maybe the Paris air was making everyone more lovey dovey or something.
That was his theory and he was sticking to it.
“I like to think I contribute to his happiness,” Stiles insisted, and he leaned up to kiss him. Derek kissed him back, pressing forward into him when he tried to pull away. When they finally broke apart, he kissed him again, a brief little peck on the lips, then kissed his forehead before pulling back entirely.
When he looked at Allison, she seemed so genuinely happy. “I’m so glad, Derek. I’m really happy that you found someone who makes you smile like that.”
“Thanks Allison.”
“You were due something good in life after what you went through,” she said honestly. She didn’t say Kate’s name, but they both knew she was thinking it. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d come. Not only because of everything that happened, but because of the short notice. It was such a shitty thing to do, and while I was happy you were coming, I was also kind of pissed off she did that.”
Derek frowned, confused. That was the second time someone had mentioned it being short notice or last minute, and he didn’t understand why.
Obviously Stiles did, because he said, “Oh, I was determined to make this work just to spite her. Especially since Derek originally didn’t invite me, because he knew she wouldn’t want me to come, but thankfully he realized I would murder him in his sleep if he took a trip to fucking Europe without me and I managed to make it all work. The fact that the agency your aunt used was still able to help us book the flights and hotel definitely facilitated things, but it was a bit of a mad dash getting time off and our suits and stuff.”
“What she did was awful,” Isaac said with a furrow to his brows. “Not that anyone here is surprised, seeing as she’s a grade A bitch.”
Allison nudged him, but only just. It was the weakest of reprimands, and Derek figured she was just doing it for show in case anyone in her family was around.
Derek went back over everything Stiles had just said, along with Ben’s original comment, and both Allison and Isaac’s statements just now. He wasn’t sure he understood at first, but then he clued in and realized why everyone was saying it was a dick move.
He turned to look at Stiles. “That’s why you were looking at the calendar,” he said, remembering the way Stiles had opened up the computer’s calendar after reading the email and the wedding invite. “You were looking at the date, because it was coming up soon.”
Stiles turned to him and his expression hardened slightly. “Anyone who sends out invites to a wedding, especially a destination wedding, a month before the date is an asshole.”
“I got my invite over a year ago,” Allison confirmed, Derek shifting his gaze to look at her. “What she did to you was mean, she was basically trying to see if she could still make you jump through hoops for her.”
Derek’s stomach bottomed out at that, because it hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d been so focussed on the wedding itself, and then Stiles tagging along as his fake boyfriend, that he hadn’t even considered how easily Kate had manipulated him into coming on this trip at the last minute.
Even now, she still controlled him!
“Whatever,” Stiles said loudly, nudging Derek and forcing him out of his head. “I got a free trip to the city of love, so I’m not gonna complain. Much, anyway.”
“Paris is beautiful,” Allison agreed, leaning into her own boyfriend as much as Stiles was leaning into him. “What are you both up to today? You looked like you were heading out.”
“Yeah, we were gonna do some sightseeing. Be real American tourists and all that.” Stiles winked at her.
“Do you guys want a tour guide?” Isaac offered. “I actually live in Paris, I moved here a few years ago on an exchange and never left.”
“Dude, yes!” Stiles exclaimed, pulling away from Derek to grab at Isaac’s arm. “That would be amazing! I kind of created an itinerary based on Google, but having a real tour guide would be fucking awesome!”
“I imagine you want to start with the Eiffel Tower?” Isaac turned to roll his eyes good-naturedly at Allison. “Everyone wants to start with the Eiffel Tower.”
She laughed and nudged him, pulling away so that his arm slid off her back. He turned back to Stiles and asked him about his itinerary, the two of them heading for the exit while Stiles pulled pages he’d obviously ripped out of his notebook from his pocket and began explaining them to Isaac.
“We better keep up before they leave us behind,” Allison said with a laugh, looping one arm through Derek’s and tugging him along.
He followed obediently, trying not to let the weight of her previous words hold him down too much. The levity of what had just happened, along with Stiles and Isaac basically speeding away in their excitement to get started on the sightseeing, was helping a little. Allison’s arm through his and her warmth at his side was helping even more.
“He seems really nice,” she said, the two of them exiting the hotel and Allison tugging gently to lead the way after the other two.
Fuck, they’d gotten far ahead of them already. Derek was probably going to miss a lot of facts Isaac was sprouting out, but he figured that was more Stiles’ interest anyway. Besides, he was fine catching up with Allison.
“He’s amazing,” he admitted. “I’m really lucky to have him in my life.”
Allison smiled at him, the two of them walking more leisurely behind their significant others.
Well, one fake one and one real one, at any rate.
“Scott’s told me about him a few times,” she informed him. He had a second to panic before she continued and made it clear she had no idea they weren’t actually dating. “He and I still chat, but not as much as we used to. Honestly, I kept in touch with him mostly to check up on you.”
He frowned at her, confused. “Why?”
“Because of what Kate did to you.” Allison stopped, forcing Derek to follow suit, the two of them facing each other. “She was awful to you back then. The way she treated you, the things she said.” She shook her head. “I feel like I was a bit too young to fully understand what was happening. It sounds dumb, because we were nineteen, and that’s basically an adult, right? But it’s really not. I didn’t realize until I saw her with Ben a year and a half later that what she was doing to you was abusive. She treated you so badly, and I’m really sorry I never stood up for you.”
Derek’s chest tightened at the words, and he reached out to pull her into a brief hug. “Thanks, Allison. But it’s not your fault. I didn’t understand much of what was happening at the time, either. I just couldn’t figure out what I kept doing wrong, why she always got mad at me, or made me feel like shit.”
“She’s such a shitty person,” Allison insisted when they pulled apart. Her face was flushed, and her voice was a little tight, but her eyes were clear and full of anger. “It’s really hard for me sometimes, because she’s always really nice to me, so a part of me struggles to acknowledge how horrible she can be. But especially seeing her with Ben, it’s so obvious how she treated you wasn’t okay.”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
“He’s really nice,” she agreed, the two of them beginning to walk again so that Isaac and Stiles didn’t disappear forever. “And she really likes him. Honestly, a part of me wanted to sabotage their relationship, but I think it’s better to have her marry someone she genuinely cares about instead of allowing her to go out and find someone else like you to bully and manipulate.” She made a face then. “Sorry I didn’t keep in touch. I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me after everything that happened. I know Kate went a little... I know she got aggressive after you guys split up, even though she constantly tells people she was planning on breaking up with you anyway.”
“It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry we stopped talking too, it was as much my fault as it was yours. But seeing as we’re chatting again, I’d love it if we could keep in touch after the wedding.”
Allison smiled at him. “Yeah, of course! I’d love that too!”
Derek smiled back, then looked ahead at the pair disappearing from sight. He tilted his head to see if he could hear them, but they were a bit too far. He could just make out Stiles’ voice, but not the actual words he was saying.
“So how did you meet Isaac if he’s from France?”
“Oh, we met at university. He and I were in a few of the same classes and we chatted a lot. When he came here with the exchange, we spoke a lot via email and Skype. When he decided to stay, he invited me out here to visit, so I did. We kind of started to inch towards a more romantic relationship during that first visit, but didn’t officially start dating until he came back to the States to visit me. We’ve been doing the long distance thing for a while, but I’ve got plans to move out here in the fall. I’m really excited about it.”
“He seems like a nice guy. I’m sure he’d rather not be playing tour guide.”
She laughed and shook her head. “He’s kind of used to it, honestly. He had to do it for my parents a few months ago, and a lot of his friends who’ve visited since he moved here have gotten the Isaac special. He’s really good at it, and he likes showing people around.” She made a face then. “He offered to show Kate around as well, but I told him not to bother. She’s never been nice to him, and says awful things about him to me, both when he’s not around and when he is. It doesn’t bother him, but it bothers me, so when he asked me if he should offer his tour-guide services, I told him fuck no.”
“I’m sorry she treats him that way,” Derek said quietly.
“Yeah, me too. I’ve gotten into fights with her about it, but Isaac always says not to let this ruin my relationship with her. Honestly, I don’t feel like I care to have one with her anymore. I’m doing this whole wedding thing with her, and then moving here in the fall, and I’ll never speak to her again. The way she treats Werewolves pisses me off.”
“I find it surprising, because doesn’t she have friends who are Werewolves? I saw Kali in the elevator earlier, and I’m sure if Kali’s here, Ennis isn’t far behind.”
Allison’s expression tightened when she said, “Werewolves are only worth her time if they’re Alphas.”
Well that certainly explained a lot.
“But,” Allison said, bumping her hip into Derek’s, still holding his arm, “let’s not talk about that stuff. I’m more interested in hearing about you and Stiles. So, spill. Tell me everything.”
It was easy to be honest with Allison, because Stiles was out of earshot. He told her the truth about falling in love with him, and how he’d honestly been in love with him even as he’d started dating Kate. The only point where he had to start lying was when he explained how they got together. He was glad Isaac was too far away to overhear, because Derek wasn’t sure he could’ve covered the lie. It was harder for Werewolves to detect lies from other Werewolves, but not impossible.
Stiles had been the one to fabricate their getting together, and the words came easily from the pre-written story he’d crafted. Derek couldn’t very well tell Allison that, while he was in love with Stiles, they were only fake dating to stick it to Kate. He’d have liked to, because lying to her felt really awful, but he couldn’t tell her the truth.
They’d just moved on to Derek’s job and what Allison was hoping to get into when she moved to France when Stiles headed back in their direction. It looked like Isaac was waiting a little ways ahead for them whereas Stiles was more interested in coming back to speed them along.
“You’re slow,” he insisted, falling into step beside Derek. He automatically wrapped one arm around Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him into his side and kissing his temple.
“We’re just catching up.”
“You can walk faster and catch up at the same time,” Stiles argued. “Though you missed out on some really cool facts about the Eiffel Tower.” He leaned forward a bit to look at Allison. “Your boyfriend is the best tour guide.”
“He’s had a lot of practice,” she said with a laugh.
“Isaac said we can get a really cool picture with the Eiffel Tower in the background over there.” He motioned where Isaac was waiting for them. “I want to grab a few for my dad.”
“Sounds good.”
They made it to Isaac relatively quickly, and while there were crowds of people milling about trying to get pictures, Isaac seemed used to angling things in such a way that made it possible to get a good shot without anyone else in the background.
The first picture was just Stiles and Derek with their arms over each other’s shoulders, smiling at the camera. Isaac had gone down on one knee and was angling the shot upwards, which was helping get the full image of the Eiffel Tower, as well as ensuring there was no one in the background.
They took a few shots of them together, and some of them individually. When Derek figured they were done, Allison waved them back into place.
“Come on, this is Paris. It’s basically tradition to kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower.”
“Pics, or it didn’t happen,” Isaac agreed.
Derek didn’t know if he wanted this immortalized, because looking at the picture would hurt later, but Stiles had already turned to face him, both hands at Derek’s waist and smiling up at him. Derek smiled back, because how could he not when the man he loved was in front of him like this? He took Stiles’ face in both hands, then bent down and kissed him.
Every time he did, he wanted more. Kissing Stiles was addictive, and it only got worse and worse every time their lips met. Without entirely meaning to, he moved his lips against Stiles’, and ran the tip of his tongue along the seam. Surprisingly, Stiles opened his mouth, and Derek’s tongue darted in, circling his while one hand slid from Stiles’ cheek back into his hair, pulling him closer.
Stiles’ own hands had shifted from his waist to grip the front of his shirt down by Derek’s stomach, fists twisting the material as he used it to tug Derek closer.
They only broke apart when Allison cat-called, and Derek remembered this wasn’t real. It was hard to keep his expression in place, not wanting to give anything away, and he saw Stiles smile slightly at him, but his eyes darted away almost instantly.
Derek smelled something coming off him then, but Stiles stepped out of his immediate space too fast for him to place it, calling out that he wanted to see the pictures and hurrying back towards where Isaac and Allison were.
He wasn’t sure what had just happened, he just knew he so badly wanted it to happen again.
Derek never wanted this vacation to end. Ever.
He was pretty sure nothing was ever going to be as amazing as this vacation and it had only been two days of it. And both days had been better than he ever could’ve imagined.
Stiles woke up first and brought him coffee both days. He didn’t even attempt to talk to him until Derek felt like he could tolerate another presence, and then talked about what he wanted to do. They met up with Allison and Isaac again, because their first day of touring Paris with them had been incredibly fun and informative, and Isaac really didn’t seem to mind bringing them around.
Plus, Isaac and Stiles seemed to have bonded over similar levels of sass. Allison thought it was cute. Derek thought it was terrifying. Anyone who could keep up with Stiles when he got the way he did was someone to be feared, honestly.
They did a lot of sightseeing the second day, because Isaac knew the fastest way to get to and from places, and what times were the best to be visiting certain points of interest. He also brought them to a fantastic restaurant for lunch that second day and Derek was pretty sure he understood why Isaac had moved to Paris.
“This place is awesome,” Stiles insisted, falling face first onto the bed once they were back in their room at quarter-to-ten. He smelled happy, but tired. Derek could relate, because the jetlag was still kind of hitting them both, but he was enjoying himself way too much to let it bother him.
“Yeah, this has been a really fun vacation,” he agreed.
He knew things would be a lot less fun in two days, since that was when the wedding was taking place, but for now he was happy ignoring that fact and just spending time with Stiles.
Sitting on the bed beside him, he reached out one hand and rubbed it up and down Stiles’ spine. He didn’t know why, probably because he just wanted to touch him while he could, and Stiles didn’t seem to mind. He just lay there breathing, face buried in the blankets. Derek smiled, because despite how much it was going to suck next week, having Stiles like this right now was amazing.
He turned to look at the door and Stiles’ head shot up when there was a loud knock. Frowning, Derek stood, heading for the door. He could hear Stiles shifting behind him, and soft footsteps coming after him.
Reaching the door, he checked the peephole, wanting to know who was knocking so late and made a face. He couldn’t pretend they weren’t there, since she would’ve heard them, so he opened the door and did his best not to lower his gaze.
The only Alpha he would ever submit to was his mother.
“Derek,” Kali said, practically sneering his name, like even saying it was beneath her.
“Can I help you?” he asked, wanting her to get what she needed to out and then fuck off.
Stiles came up behind him, and it took a conscious effort for Derek not to tense when he felt arms wrap around him from behind, Stiles’ chin resting on one of his shoulders.
Kali’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Derek wondered if maybe she could see right through them and knew they weren’t dating. That didn’t end up being the case when she spoke next, and Derek was relieved.
“Meet in the lobby at ten tomorrow morning.”
“Why?” Stiles asked.
The look he got should’ve burned off a few layers of skin, but Derek knew Stiles was used to getting scathing looks from people who thought they were better than him. He just stood there, against Derek’s back, and waited for her to answer him.
“We’re going to the Pont des Arts tomorrow.”
Derek frowned. He didn’t recognize the name. “What’s that?”
“Be in the lobby at ten,” Kali repeated instead of answering, and then walked off.
“Well, she is an absolute delight,” Stiles said. Derek smiled, because he knew Kali had heard that, but she had too much pride to come back and snarl at Stiles for it.
Derek had to shuffle back a little bit to get the door closed, since Stiles was still hugging him from behind, but he managed it. Once it was shut, he expected Stiles to let him go, but he didn’t. He just stood there, pressed against his back, chin on his shoulder.
“What do you think that’s about?”
“No idea,” he admitted, turning his head slightly to look at Stiles out of the corner of his eye. “You ever heard of that bridge?”
“I think it came up while I was checking out places to visit,” he admitted, squinting slightly in that cute Stiles way he did. He was silent for a moment, then pulled away from Derek to head back for the bed.
Derek missed his warmth already, but turned to follow him anyway.
Stiles grabbed his laptop before walking up onto the bed and falling down into a seated position. He opened it up while Derek crawled up onto it as well, moving to sit a little behind Stiles so he could see the screen. Stiles leaned back into him, and Derek almost laughed. Trust Stiles to take advantage of having a form of back rest while he worked.
Derek wasn’t going to complain, he was more than happy having Stiles pressed up against him.
Stiles opened Google and began typing, having typo’d the name of the bridge since he hadn’t added a ‘t’ at the end of ‘pont.’ When the results returned—with the inquiry about whether or not he meant Pont des Arts as opposed to Pon des Arts—Stiles clicked on the Wikipedia link for it and they both began to read.
“Huh,” Stiles said as he slowly scrolled down, evidently reading it properly as opposed to the general skimming Derek was doing.
Apparently the bridge was famous for couples attaching padlocks to it with their names written on the locks, and then throwing the key into the Seine. It was meant to represent their eternal love for one another, and actually sounded like a pretty romantic thing to do.
“I guess Kate and Ben want to do this as a pre-wedding gesture of... I don’t know, commitment I guess?” Stiles asked.
“Pretty sure marriage is the biggest commitment,” Derek argued.
“Nah, that’s kids.” Stiles grinned over his shoulder at him. “This is kind of cool, though. I like the symbolism of it. Though it sounds like it’s affecting the overall structure of the bridge.”
Derek hummed, and without really thinking about it, he kissed at the shoulder his chin was resting on before pulling away. He knew Stiles was going to get distracted reading about everything associated with the bridge now, and Derek had gotten enough of an understanding.
“You okay if I grab a shower?”
“Yeah, go for it,” Stiles said, though he sounded distracted and Derek honestly wondered if he’d heard him. He just shook his head with a laugh and went to grab a shower before bed. He always felt a bit dirty at the end of the day, covered in foreign scents and the general grime and sweat of the day, so he wanted to make sure he was clean before going to sleep.
The only scents he wanted in that bed were his and Stiles’.
It wasn’t particularly late, what with Derek exiting the shower at ten-thirty, but he was going to have to wake up earlier than normal people to get himself awake enough to tolerate others by ten in the morning, so he was glad when Stiles switched places with him right away to take his own shower.
They were both in bed by eleven, and while it took a long time for Derek to fall asleep, he eventually managed it. He was both relieved and sad at the knowledge that this wouldn’t be continuing much longer. According to Allison, basically everyone who’d been invited to the wedding was heading out the day after.
Kate and Ben had their honeymoon in the Caribbean—because apparently a fucking wedding in Paris wasn’t enough for Kate—and most of the guests had arrived a week before the wedding, unlike Derek and Stiles who’d made plans to stay after instead. Allison and Isaac were heading back to the States the morning after the wedding, along with Allison’s parents and her grandfather.
It worked out really well, since Derek and Stiles had been planning for their fake relationship to end as soon as the wedding was over, but he also selfishly wished someone was sticking around after the wedding so he’d have an excuse to continue the ruse a while longer. If one of Kate’s Werewolf friends stayed the rest of their trip, Derek would be able to stay like this with Stiles.
Then again, it was probably for the best that they wouldn’t be sticking around. Derek was already going to struggle to forget this week had happened without making it worse. He was going to remember the feel of Stiles’ hand in his, the softness of his lips, the silkiness of his hair. He wished this whole thing had never happened, but more than that, he just wished it was real.
He wished more than anything that he had come to Kate’s wedding with his boyfriend. That he was completely happy with his life and didn’t need to lie about having the best relationship ever. He hated that this wasn’t real.
He so badly wanted it to be real.
The alarm snapped him awake some indeterminable amount of time later. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep and he grunted angrily at the sound. Stiles grumbled as well, the bed shifting as he leaned over to shut it off. Once the room went silent again, he heard Stiles move around, the scratch of his skin against the fabric loud in the now silent room.
He expected him to get up, since he always got up first, but he didn’t. He just moved around for a few seconds, then settled. Derek wondered if maybe he was going to veto the whole thing and insist they didn’t have to go. Derek certainly wasn’t interested in going, but similarly he felt like it would be pretty rude if they were the only guests present who didn’t show up.
Rolling over and peeling open his eyes, he saw that Stiles was sleeping on his side facing him, face half-buried in his pillow and long eyelashes brushing his cheek as he slowly drifted back off into slumber.
Derek wanted to wake up to this every fucking day for the rest of his life.
Reaching out with one hand before fully deciding to do so, he brushed his knuckles lightly along Stiles’ exposed cheek, letting them slide down until he could press his thumb gently to the corner of Stiles’ mouth.
He let out a small grunt of displeasure, presumably because it was forcing him back to consciousness, and slowly opened his eyes. He looked fucking adorable like this, all sleepy and comfortable, his hair every which way and his face half-buried in his pillow from home.
Derek loved him.
He loved him so much, and he hated that he couldn’t have him.
Stiles didn’t move, watching Derek as he watched him in return. He let his thumb brush along as much of Stiles’ lips as he could based on the way his face was angled, and then slid his knuckles back up along his cheek.
It was such a nice, calm experience that Derek wished it could go on forever. He wished they could just stay there like that, in bed, his fingers brushing along Stiles’ cheek.
Eventually, reality came crashing back in though, because the alarm went off again and Derek pulled his hand back. Stiles scowled, rolling over and violently slamming down on the hotel’s alarm as if it had offended him. He’d obviously hit the snooze button which explained why he’d been allowing himself a few moments to lie there in silence.
Derek stared at Stiles’ back as the other man lay on his side, one arm still outstretched and resting on the alarm, like he wanted to rip it from the wall and hurl it out the window. Derek could relate, because he wanted to go back to ten seconds ago when they’d both just been staring at each other.
It was almost enough for Derek to believe Stiles might like him, too. That maybe this was real and them playing pretend was just a weird sort of game. But he wasn’t stupid enough to think someone as charismatic and amazing as Stiles would want to settle for a grumpy Werewolf who couldn’t even form coherent sentences first thing in the morning.
After an age, Stiles finally shifted to throw the covers off him and stood up. Derek watched him walk to the end of the bed and around the corner to the bathroom without saying a word. To be fair, that was par for the course with Stiles, as far as Derek could tell. He knew Derek wasn’t the friendliest person first thing in the morning, so he tended to wait until he was caffeinated before attempting conversation.
It didn’t take long for Stiles to finish up in the bathroom and when he came back out, he still didn’t look at Derek, heading for his suitcase to grab some clothes, and then returning to the bathroom. He was out again in under five minutes and he left the room without a word, presumably to go and get them coffee and pastries.
Derek was going to have to remember to shove money in Stiles’ messenger bag at one point when he wasn’t looking to pay him back for this since he was not supposed to be spending any more money.
Despite not wanting to get up just yet, Derek was already more awake than usual so he climbed out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. Stiles usually came back while he was still in there, but Derek also usually stayed in bed a good ten minutes after he left, so it made sense that he was already putting on his shoes by the time Stiles walked into the room.
He walked over to Derek, who straightened after having finished lacing up his boots, and held out a coffee.
Nodding in thanks, he took a sip of it while Stiles went to put the pastry bag on the desk and sat in the chair. He still wasn’t looking at him, but Derek figured maybe he never did in the mornings until Derek had had his coffee and he’d just never noticed.
“Thanks for always getting coffee,” Derek said when half his cup was drained.
“No problem,” Stiles said, but he still didn’t look at him, instead opening the pastry bag. “I got you a chocolate croissant today, since I keep eating them all. And the ham and cheese one, since you seem to like that one.”
“Thanks.”
“We still have time before we have to head down, I set the alarm a bit earlier since you’re usually harder to get out of bed.”
Derek couldn’t help smiling a bit at that, because Stiles wasn’t wrong.
“Means we can just have a nice breakfast together.”
Stiles finally turned to look at him then, and he actually managed a small smile. Whatever had happened to make him so squirrelly seemed to have passed. Derek was thankful, because he didn’t think he could manage this outing without Stiles beside him.
Derek went to join him at the desk so they didn’t get any food on the bed. Croissants were very flaky, as Stiles kept reminding him, so they had to be careful about where they ate. Stiles was slowly getting back to normal so that by the time he’d finished one of his own breakfast pastries and half of his coffee, he was explaining everything he’d learned about the Pont des Arts to him.
One of the things he loved the most about Stiles was how passionate he got about literally everything. If there was anything interesting to learn about something, Stiles wanted to learn it. Even though Stiles struggled with paying attention to things sometimes, and he insisted that museums were awful—even if he’d go with Derek anyway—he still found a way to learn and discover things, just in a different way from Derek.
Today was supposed to be the day they went to the Louvre, and Derek hoped they’d still be able to. He doubted this morning excursion would take long, and presumably Allison and Isaac would be there too, so once they were all done, they could head off to the Louvre together.
Isaac had said he was fine bringing them there, but as admittance was expensive and both he and Allison had already been numerous times, they weren’t interested in going again. Derek completely understood that, and he was sure he and Stiles would have a good time regardless.
At ten-to-ten, the two of them left the room to go down to the lobby, not wanting to be the last ones to arrive of the guests since Derek was sure Kate would say something about it. A few other people were already there, including Kate’s brother Chris and his wife, who were Allison’s parents.
Allison and Isaac showed up a few minutes later from the front door. Allison was staying at Isaac’s instead of the hotel, and while Kate was annoyed about this, her parents were fully supportive and insisted there was no point in wasting money on another room when Allison could be spending quality time with her boyfriend.
Derek liked that not all the Argents were assholes, it seemed to primarily be Kate and her father Gerard, whom Derek had met twice and not liked at all.
“Hey, good morning.” Allison beamed at them as she approached with Isaac, and she rooted through her purse when she reached them. “Here, we brought something for you.”
“You did?” Derek asked with a frown, confused.
When Allison pulled something out of her purse, he stared at it for a long while, not understanding. It looked like some kind of lock, with a gorgeous wolf mid-run engraved into the side of it. The keys were sticking out of the bottom of it, with the ends shaped like a paw.
It was actually a really nice lock, and he couldn’t understand why she was holding it out to him.
“I know Kate told you last minute about this, since she seems to be telling you everything last minute.” Allison rolled her eyes, hand still outstretched for him to take the lock. “I forgot about this until after we parted ways last night but Isaac and I bought a few locks for this because we couldn’t decide on which one we wanted, so we had some extras.”
“A few,” Isaac said with a laugh. “She bought twelve locks.” He turned to give Derek a fake exasperated look. “It took us almost an hour to narrow it down to the right one to use.”
“You were no help,” Allison insisted, turning her head to plant a kiss on the side of his neck, since that was the easiest place for her to reach with how they were standing, not to mention Isaac’s height. “You just kept telling me to choose because you didn’t care.”
“Because I don’t care,” Isaac argued. “The lock doesn’t matter to me, it’s the person whose name is on it with me that matters.”
Uh oh.
Derek was pretty sure he’d just clued in to why Allison was holding out a lock for him.
“Aw, isn’t this cute?”
He tensed instantly, because his distraction with Allison and Isaac meant he hadn’t heard Kate come up behind them. He felt Stiles’ hand in his squeeze tightly in support, but it didn’t stop him from instinctively hunching his shoulders a little bit.
“Looks like mongrels recognize their own kind. Hello Isaac. Surprised they let you into the building, weren’t they worried you’d steal something?”
“With a face like this?” Isaac asked, smiling pleasantly. “Never, I’m the poster child for cherubs.”
Stiles let out a bark of a laugh that had a few people turn to look at them, and Derek couldn’t help but wish he could react to Kate the same way Isaac did. Stiles had been doing all the talking so far whenever she was around.
He knew it was because Isaac hadn’t been through the same thing as him when it came to Kate, but he still wished he could hold his own a bit better.
“What’s that?” Kate asked, motioning the lock Allison was holding out.
Stiles snatched it from Allison’s hand when Kate started to reach for it. “It’s our lock. Allison was kind enough to get one for us since we were told last minute about our excursion this morning.” He looked at Allison then. “Thanks a lot, we really appreciate it.”
“Oh, I didn’t think it’d matter,” Kate argued, waving one hand absently. “The two of you aren’t going to last, everyone can tell just by looking at you. I figured there was no point giving you advance warning about our intentions today since you wouldn’t be contributing.”
“It’s okay to be wrong, Kate, don’t worry. People won’t think any less of you.” Stiles’ smile was all teeth and it was Isaac’s turn to laugh.
Kate’s expression twisted into something unkind, but before she could say anything, Ben appeared beside her, all smiles and looking excited, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.
“Morning! Glad you could all join us for this, we’re really excited for this outing.”
Like a switch was flipped, Kate’s smile was back in place and she leaned into her fiancé, one hand on his chest and face angled upwards so she could smile at him. “Very excited,” she agreed, then kissed him.
Derek shifted his gaze away, unwilling to admit the sight stung. He wasn’t jealous or anything, because he didn’t love Kate, and hadn’t for a long time, but it still hurt to see how she could be when she actually gave a shit about someone versus how she’d been with him.
“Oh, are you going to add a lock too?” Ben asked, motioning what Stiles was holding.
“Yup!” Stiles said with a brilliant smile. “Derek and I are in it for the long haul, and you know the saying. When in Rome...”
“We’re in Paris,” Kate shot back.
“Yeah, it’s an expression,” Stiles explained, speaking slowly, as if wanting to be sure she understood. “You know, ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do.’ Sorry if this is the first time you’ve ever left the United States.”
Kate’s jaw clenched, but Ben didn’t seem to notice there was actual animosity behind their back and forth, since he just looked at Derek and said, “Oh hey, I almost forgot. Would you have some time later today for us to talk? I wanted to ask you some questions about your ancestry, and I’ve got a few hours open before the rehearsal dinner since this one,” he pulled Kate against himself with a smile, “is going out shopping with the girls.”
“They were going to visit the Louvre today,” Allison said before Derek could even think about how to respond.
“Oh, right. Sightseeing.” Ben looked a little disappointed. Derek figured it was because tomorrow was the wedding, so he’d be busy all day, and then they were leaving for their honeymoon first thing the following morning. “That’s okay. I’m sure I can catch you some other time.”
Not fucking likely. As much as Derek didn’t mind Ben, because he seemed like a really nice guy, he was uninterested in ever seeing Kate again.
Still he felt kind of bad, since he was obviously excited about the whole thing, so he looked over at Isaac. “Do you know how long it’ll take in the Louvre?”
“It kind of depends on you, but provided we head there right after we’re done with the bridge, you should have enough time before the rehearsal dinner. It’s at six, right?” Isaac directed his last question at Ben, who nodded.
Derek turned to Stiles. “Do you mind?”
He let out a loud scoff and rolled his eyes. “Of course not. Ben is interested in the Hales like any sane person would be.” Stiles’ gaze shifted to Kate for a brief moment, as if in silent challenge, and a smirk teased the corners of his lips. “We still have tons of time to visit, so once we’re done at the Louvre, Allison and Isaac can bring me to all the crepe shops in the area while you and Ben chat.”
“I love crepes!” Allison said excitedly.
“Perfect!” Ben beamed at them all, seeming excited for the day ahead. “I’ll see you when you’re back, then. I’m in suite 407 if you want to stop in whenever.”
“Sure thing.”
“We’re running late,” Kate insisted, pulling away from Ben and starting for the door, clearly annoyed with how this conversation had gone. “Let’s go.”
Allison paused long enough to pull a sharpie out of her purse and held it out to Stiles before she and Isaac hurried after Kate. They were all heading to the Pont des Arts by hotel shuttle, but Kate and Ben’s immediate family and their significant others were riding in a stretch limo with them so Allison and Isaac were going off in style.
Derek and Stiles went to join the rest of the wedding guests who would be taking the shuttle. Kali and Ennis were there, but Derek made sure to keep far back from them so they didn’t have to interact. There were less people than Derek was originally expecting for a wedding, but he supposed having it be abroad meant it was harder for people to afford it.
When they climbed onto the shuttle, they were seated beside Ben’s Best Man and his wife across the aisle, and Stiles got to talking to them instantly, because he was charismatic that way.
Derek had one arm draped across Stiles’ shoulders the whole time, smiling while he watched Stiles’ expressions change as he explained their first two days in Paris to the couple beside them. When the wife asked about whether or not they would be putting a lock on the bridge—this was their third time in Paris, so they’d already done it themselves—Stiles excitedly showed them the lock they’d gotten from Allison.
“Don’t forget to put your names on it,” the Best Man said, motioning the fact that they hadn’t done that yet. “The lock means nothing if there’s no names.”
“Right! Allison gave me a sharpie!” Stiles shifted around in his seat to pull said item from his pocket and uncapped it. He flipped the lock around, since only the one side had the wolf engraved on it, and uncapped the sharpie before pausing, tilting his head.
“Do you think I should put my real name, or my nickname?” Stiles asked, turning to him.
Derek stared at him for a long while, because he didn’t know what to say. This was all pretend, they weren’t actually dating. This whole thing was pretty intimate and held a lot of significance, so Derek had assumed they’d just stick the lock on the bridge and be done with it. He hadn’t expected Stiles to want to actually write their names on the lock!
That felt like too much. He didn’t want to lie about something like this. Sure, it wasn’t a wedding or anything, but it somehow felt wrong to put their names on a lock they would be locking onto a bridge that represented eternal love.
According to Google, anyway.
Stiles raised his eyebrows at him in inquiry, since he still hadn’t replied, and Derek forced himself to say, “Full names are generally more meaningful, right?”
“True.” Stiles looked down at the lock again, and then began to painstakingly fit his entire monster of a name on the lock while the bus they were on bounced along the road.
Derek watched as he wrote out ‘Mieczyslaw Stilinski,’ and then a plus sign, followed by ‘Derek Hale.’ His chest clenched at the sight of it, and he forced himself to turn and look out the window instead, not wanting to think about it too much.
Art by Deancebra
When the shuttle stopped and let them all off, they followed each other up onto the bridge, Kate and Ben’s group already having arrived and waiting for everyone in the middle of it.
Ben had his arm around Kate again, and Derek listened while he gave a semi-speech about love and explained how he and Kate met and the exact moment he knew he wanted to marry her. Kate looked happy as he spoke. Genuinely happy. She really did love this man, and it made Derek wonder what about him hadn’t been good enough for her.
Was it just about him being a Werewolf? He’d done everything she’d ever asked of him, even things he hadn’t felt comfortable doing. He’d just wanted to make her happy, to be a good boyfriend, to have her stop telling him he was a disappointment and that he obviously didn’t love her since he was so bad at showing her he did.
It made Derek feel like he was legitimately going to die alone, because he’d never be good enough for anyone. No wonder Stiles didn’t want to date him for real, he clearly wasn’t worth anyone’s time.
He’d zoned out by accident at some point, because Stiles was tugging on his hand and snapped him back to the present, turning to look at him. He was smiling brightly up at him and pointing down the bridge.
“Let’s go put ours over there. I feel like it’ll have the best view of the city from over there.”
It was such a ridiculous thing to say, but also a very Stiles thing to say, so Derek allowed himself to be dragged across the bridge to the section Stiles motioned. Once they reached it, Stiles let Derek’s hand go and then pulled the keys out of the bottom before he snapped the lock into place. It was difficult with the number of other locks already present, but he managed to wiggle it into place and shut it, straightening it slightly so that the engraved wolf faced outward.
Derek looked around and saw everyone had split off to find their own preferred locations. Kate and Ben were still in the middle getting theirs put into place—it looked like they were having a hard time because of the amount of locks already present there—whereas Isaac and Allison seemed to have opted for an edge panel similar to Stiles on the other side of the bridge.
“Here.”
Turning back to Stiles, he saw him holding out one of the two keys that had come with the lock. Derek frowned, taking it from him, and saw Stiles holding the other one.
“I know it’s not meant to be like making a wish, but why don’t we stand on opposite sides of the bridge and make a wish while throwing our keys into the Seine?” Stiles smiled as him while walking backwards towards the other side. He almost collided with someone and apologized profusely, but Derek laughed and shook his head.
Stiles just gave him a sheepish look before turning his back to him and jogging across to the other side so he could follow through with his plan.
Derek looked down at the key he held, thinking of what Stiles had just said, and looked out over the water. Paris was such a beautiful city, and he was glad he was sharing this experience with the love of his life.
Even if this whole thing was fabricated.
Clenching his hand around the key, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and did as Stiles said.
I wish this wasn’t just pretend.
He threw the key over the side, and watched it disappear from sight before presumably landing in the water. It was a small key, so it was hard to keep vision on it, even with his enhanced Werewolf abilities.
“All done?”
He turned to see Allison and Isaac approaching and faced them fully, shoving his hands in his pockets. Stiles was still on the other side of the bridge, evidently having a really long wish since he didn’t look to have thrown his key yet.
“Thank you for the lock,” Derek said, even though having it there was hurting his heart because it meant nothing. “I’ll pay you back for it.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Isaac insisted. “I’m glad we had enough to spare for you.”
Derek wished they hadn’t. But if nothing else, he hadn’t missed the fact that Kate had glanced over at him and was probably pissed Derek had done this with someone. She didn’t need to know it wasn’t real.
Besides, she was surprisingly obsessed with Derek, it was kind of weird. Why did she hate him so much that she wanted him to be miserable?
“You guys ready to go?” Stiles asked, appearing at Derek’s side and hugging him, resting his chin on his shoulder. “I wanna make sure Mr. Important here has time to talk to Ben before the rehearsal dinner.”
“Yup, we’re all set,” Allison confirmed, and the four of them started walking along the bridge while Isaac pointed out the museum. Apparently it worked out perfectly that they were doing this today, because the Louvre was less than five minutes from where they were. It barely even required a guide, but Derek was grateful for one all the same since Isaac helped them buy their tickets in fluent French.
Allison and Isaac were going to take a stroll along the Seine together, but they pointed out a café not far from the Louvre and said they should all meet there after they were done so that Isaac could bring them back to the hotel—and then back out for crepes, since that was what Stiles was going to do while Derek was talking to Ben.
Thanking them both again, Derek and Stiles headed inside together, Stiles pulling his camera out excitedly. Isaac had confirmed photos were permitted, but only in certain areas so Stiles had to watch out for sections that proclaimed no pictures or they would get kicked out.
It was surprisingly busy for mid-morning on a weekday, but Derek acknowledged it was also summer so a lot of these people were probably on vacation same as them. They took their time walking through the exhibit holding hands, Stiles occasionally pulling his free to snap some photos before grabbing hold of Derek’s again.
He didn’t think they needed to keep up the charade here. None of the other guests had come in this direction, and while Derek could smell Werewolves in the place, none of them were from Kate’s entourage. This was probably one of the first places since the beginning of this trip where they were completely alone and didn’t have to put up appearances.
When they were looking at all the art that comprised the last exhibit, this one not allowing for photographs, Stiles nudged him lightly to get his attention and smiled at him.
“I’m glad I came with you on this trip.”
Derek smiled back. “Yeah, me too. It’s been really nice so far.”
“Having a personal tour guide’s been helpful too. I really like Isaac. And Allison, honestly. I can’t believe she’s related to Kate, she’s not like her at all.”
“Yeah, Allison’s always been really nice to me. She and Scott kept in touch, but after everything that happened with Kate, I kind of let that friendship die.”
“I’m sure she understands,” Stiles said. “And I honestly keep forgetting she knows Scott. And it’s crazy you and her and Isaac went to the same school, but you never met him.”
“They probably became friends after I broke up with Kate.”
“Probably. Still, the Scott and Allison meet-up still blows my mind. Small world, right?”
“Yeah.” Derek squeezed his hand and tugged gently, wanting to direct him to another piece in the exhibit.
“That was really nice of her to give us one of her locks,” Stiles said suddenly. Derek didn’t comment on it, but he felt his chest clenching again at the thought of it. “It was a really cool lock, too. I didn’t know they made them like that, but I guess there’s like, a special lock-selling store in Paris considering the bridge.”
“Maybe,” Derek offered, not wanting to keep this conversation going. It hurt enough as it was.
“Hey, how come you took so long to answer?” Stiles asked. He could see him looking at him out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn. “On the bus, I mean. When I asked which name I should use.”
Derek felt something crack in his chest and clenched his jaw.
“Because this isn’t real,” he said quietly, perhaps a little harsher than he’d intended to.
Stiles was silent beside him, but Derek kept going anyway, because the floodgates were open now and maybe if he talked about this enough, it would make what had happened hurt less.
“What does it matter which name you used? It’s not like it meant anything. Though having done that was probably beneficial to this whole thing, because I saw Kate watching so this probably helped her believe we’re actually together. I guess it worked out in the end.”
Stiles said nothing to this and Derek just tugged his hand to get them moving into the next part of the museum that led to the exit. When they were passing through the main hall, Stiles pulled his hand free and said he had to use the bathroom so Derek waited for him by the exit.
When Stiles came back, Derek held the door open for him so they could both leave, and when he reached for his hand, Stiles shoved it into his pocket. He probably hadn’t noticed Derek reaching for it, and it wasn’t like couples always held hands, so he didn’t dwell on it.
Allison and Isaac were already at the café when they showed up, and the four of them headed back for the hotel, Stiles walking ahead with Isaac while they chatted as usual, and Derek and Allison lingering a little bit behind.
Derek split with them at the hotel, leaning over to kiss Stiles’ cheek before heading inside. He’d been aiming for his mouth, but Stiles had shifted at the last second. Not that it mattered, kissing Stiles was a privilege regardless of where his lips landed.
Heading up for room 407 to talk to Ben, Derek hoped Stiles had fun trying all the different crepes, and smiled to himself when he imagined the whining that would follow when they met up again because he was full.
Stiles was acting weird.
Derek wasn’t sure what had happened, but ever since they’d split up so he could talk to Ben and Stiles could get crepes with Allison and Isaac, he’d been acting weird.
When Derek had come back to the room after hanging out with Ben until the rehearsal dinner, it was empty. He’d watched some TV for a little while to pass the time, and eventually ordered room service for himself when it got late enough for him to be hungry.
Stiles ended up returning after eight, and said he’d been wandering around the city and had already eaten. He went to shower right away, and when he came back out, he sat on the bed on his computer for the rest of the night and didn’t say another word to Derek.
He wasn’t mean or anything, more... Derek wasn’t sure. Upset, maybe? He was acting like he wanted some space, so Derek just gave it to him. He tried to subtly sniff him out, but Stiles had grown up around Werewolves and had gotten really good at mixing chemosignals so that multiple emotions came out at once. It was frustrating, because Derek wanted to know if he was okay, but Stiles clearly didn’t want to talk about it.
When he woke up the next morning, on wedding day, Stiles was already gone from the room. He hadn’t actually heard him leave, but attributed that to having had a bad night’s sleep. He got out of bed at ten-thirty, and knew the wedding was starting at two, so there wasn’t really a lot of time to go out and sightsee today. That was fine though, they still had nine days after today to look around, so he wasn’t going to worry about it.
He was still in the bathroom when Stiles came back, but he frowned in the middle of brushing his teeth when he heard the door open, Stiles head further into the room, head back for the door, and then leave again.
Spitting foam out of his mouth, he quickly opened the bathroom door, then the bedroom door, but when he looked both ways down the corridor, Stiles had already disappeared from sight.
Maybe he was getting them a real breakfast today?
But there was a paper bag of pastries on the desk, same as always, so Derek wasn’t sure he understood what the plan was today. He’d been intending to ask Stiles what he wanted to do before the wedding since their time was limited, but now he had no idea what they were going to be doing today.
Finishing up in the bathroom, Derek went to the desk to drink his coffee and eat his pastries, and saw there were only two in the bag instead of the usual four. That meant Stiles had already eaten his.
He sat down on the bed and watched TV for an hour while he waited for Stiles to come back, but when he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. It wasn’t like he could text Stiles to ask where he was, because their phones were both still off given they were in a foreign country. He hadn’t seen Isaac or Allison since the day before, so he had no idea if they’d made any plans for today. But if they had, surely Stiles would’ve said something.
After waiting another half hour and realizing Stiles wasn’t coming back, Derek decided to just go to the hotel gym for an hour. It would help him kill some time, and then he could grab a bite and come back up to get ready for the wedding. He wasn’t worried about running into anyone today, because he knew Kate and her entourage would be too busy getting everything ready for the wedding and making sure it was all perfect.
Leaving a note for Stiles in case he came looking for him, Derek headed out in the loosest clothes he’d brought with him—he hadn’t expected to work out so he didn’t actually have proper workout clothes with him. It was easy enough to find the gym and there were three other people in there with him. He just nodded politely to them before commandeering one of the treadmills and beginning to jog.
His mind strayed to Stiles, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened during his outing with Isaac and Allison. He’d been fine right before then, their leisurely walk through the Louvre pleasant, so it had to be something after that. He wished Stiles would tell him what was bothering him so he could help, he didn’t like that he was upset.
Then again, he wasn’t positive Stiles was upset, it was just likely, based on all the things he’d managed to pick up since Stiles had returned last night. He was good at keeping the hurt in, but he wasn’t perfect. Something had happened and he was upset and Derek wanted to tear apart whoever had made him feel that way.
He hoped it wasn’t Kate. It wasn’t impossible to think maybe the three of them had run into Kate yesterday and she’d said something to him. Stiles had pretty thick skin though, and he’d never let anything Kate said bother him before. It made no sense, he didn’t understand what had happened.
After agonizing over it for forty-five minutes, Derek left the gym hot and sweaty and headed for the front desk so he could order some food to be brought up to his room. It was still empty when he reached it, his note exactly where he’d left it, so he waited for his room service to arrive, ate his lunch, and then jumped in the shower to clean off. Once he was done and dry, he stepped out of the bathroom to change out into the clothes he and Stiles had gotten together.
He had his pants on and was in the process of tucking in his shirt when the door opened and Stiles walked in. It was almost half-past one, so he was obviously aware it was time for him to get ready for the wedding.
“Hey,” Derek said, pausing in what he was doing and watching as Stiles moved to grab his own clothes from the suit bag. “I was waiting for you earlier, where did you get off to?”
“Just around,” Stiles said without looking at him. “Sorry I’m so late, I’ll be quick.”
He disappeared into the bathroom without another word, then the shower turned on.
Derek frowned, confused, but tried not to dwell on it too much. He felt like he should be more nervous about the upcoming wedding, but he was surprisingly calm. For one thing, Kate was going to be far away from him and hopefully more focussed on her husband than making him miserable. For another, Stiles’ strange behaviour kind of had his complete attention, honestly.
True to his word, Stiles was quick in the shower and was fully dressed and out of the bathroom in fifteen minutes. He didn’t say anything or even look at Derek as he got all his things back in his bag and organized his stuff.
After what felt like an age, he seemed to take a slow breath, and then turned to Derek, a bright smile on his face.
It didn’t reach his eyes, but Derek figured most people wouldn’t notice. He just knew everything about Stiles because he loved him so much.
“Your tie is crooked,” Stiles informed him, then moved forward so he could straighten it for him, smoothing his hands along the top of Derek’s vest. “Perfect. You’ll look even better than the groom.”
“I think you’re a little biassed,” Derek teased.
He expected Stiles to laugh and wink, being his usual cheeky self, but instead he just averted his gaze and muttered, “Yeah. Come on, we should go.”
Derek frowned, Stiles heading for the door, and looking sinfully delicious in those pants, just like Derek knew he would. He didn’t give himself time to really appreciate it though, he just jumped to his feet and moved after him quickly, lightly touching one arm before Stiles could get the door open.
“Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Stiles asked, turning to cock an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t know, you just seem...” He didn’t know what to say, but Stiles just rolled his eyes at him and slapped him in the back lightly.
“I’m fine, big guy. Come on, let’s go make a few women drool over how fucking hot you look in that vest.” This time he winked, and Derek relaxed a bit, because maybe he was slowly recovering from whatever it was that was bothering him.
Derek checked to make sure he had the room key before they left, the door shutting behind them. They met other guests at the elevator, these being from Ben’s side of the family, and they chatted easily the ride down. Derek placed his hand at the small of Stiles’ back when the doors opened, allowing him to exit first and keeping in step beside him, hand still pressed against him.
They followed the little group that had formed towards the back of the hotel where there was a large garden and patio that had been reserved for the wedding. Derek had to admit to being impressed when they stepped outside, because the entire area was decorated very elegantly. There was a white, wired arch at the end of what was presumably acting as the aisle, with wooden folding chairs painted white distributed on either side.
Most of the seats near the front were already taken, presumably by family, and Ben was chatting with the officiant up by the altar beneath the arch.
“Come on, let’s sit here,” Derek said, motioning the row third from the back.
Stiles obediently moved along the row to a seat and sat down. Derek had only just taken his own when Isaac walked in, spotted them, and moved to join them, sitting beside Derek with a smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he replied. “Where’s Allison?”
“She’s a bridesmaid. Kate wanted to remind her that family is important above all else, so she wanted her in her wedding party.” Isaac rolled his eyes, clearly trying to convey the ridiculousness of it all. Derek didn’t blame him, that was stupid and manipulative.
Par for the course with Kate, he supposed.
Everyone chatted amongst themselves while they waited, Stiles leaning over Derek so he could talk to Isaac. Derek had shifted one hand to rub at Stiles’ back, and he smiled at him while the other man demanded that Isaac write down the directions for one of the places they’d visited the day before because the crepes were to die for.
They were all still chatting together when the light music that had been playing abruptly got louder for a beat before cutting out. The officiant called for everyone to stand, so they did, and then Kate’s chosen song to walk down the aisle began to play. It wasn’t the usual Bridal Chorus that played when people got married, but sounded like a cover of Elvis’ ‘I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.’
He supposed that was also a popular wedding song, but seeing as he’d only been to Boyd and Erica’s so far, he wasn’t exactly an expert.
Derek couldn’t help smiling when the bridesmaids and groomsmen started walking out first. As much as he hated Kate, and as mean as he knew this whole invitation was supposed to be, this was still a happy day for two people who were clearly in love, and he was going to be happy for them.
Allison was the last bridesmaid to exit with her groomsman, wearing a long turquoise dress and her hair pinned up in elegant curls. She looked beautiful, and Derek was sure Isaac was speechless.
Kate came out last with her father, wearing a mermaid-style white dress with an incredibly long train. Derek couldn’t help admitting she made a stunning bride, but he felt it was more the smile on her face, because she was obviously insanely happy at this time.
When she reached the end of the aisle, Gerard kissed her cheek and went to sit down in the seat saved for him, Ben taking Kate’s hand as she closed the distance between them and kissing her cheek.
Everyone sat down when they were motioned to, and Derek reached out for Stiles’ hand without thinking about it. He brought it to his lips and kissed it, then held it tightly against his own thigh as he watched the proceedings ahead of them.
The actual ceremony itself wasn’t very long. They didn’t tend to be, so it didn’t surprise him when everything was said and done, and Ben and Kate shared a kiss while everyone clapped. The guests were instructed to head inside to the event hall for appetisers while the wedding party went off to take photos, so Derek motioned for Isaac to stick with him and Stiles and they made their way inside the hotel once more.
He kept hold of Stiles’ hand the entire time, this whole thing reminding him of how much he’d loved Boyd and Erica’s wedding. Stiles had been there for that wedding, as well. He’d actually been Erica’s Man of Honour, and Derek remembered how much fun they’d all had together helping with the wedding seeing as Derek was Boyd’s Best Man.
As crazy as Erica could be sometimes, she wasn’t the fearsome bridezilla Derek had expected her to be. She was actually surprisingly chill about the whole thing, but that was probably because, in her words, she didn’t care about the wedding itself, just that she got to be Mrs. Vernon Boyd by the end of the night.
“So when are you popping the question?” Stiles asked Isaac once they were in the event hall, grinning cheekily at him while licking his fingers. He’d grabbed something off a tray immediately upon entering the room and Derek wondered if maybe he hadn’t had lunch.
“Funny you should ask,” Isaac said, and lowered his voice before answering, like he was worried Allison would appear out of nowhere and overhear him. “I’m planning on asking her when we have dinner at her folks’ place on Sunday. Her dad already gave me his blessing, and I want her to be with family when I ask so it seems like the best time.”
“That’s awesome!” Stiles said excitedly, reaching out to punch Isaac in the arm. “Congrats!”
“Thanks. She hasn’t said yes or anything yet, obviously, but I’m optimistic.”
“She’ll say yes,” Derek said confidently, shifting to wrap one arm around Stiles’ shoulders when he pulled his hand free so he could grab at more appetizers with both hands. Derek was starting to think he was right about the missed lunch.
“Would it be too bold of me to ask about you two?” Isaac asked, motioning between them.
“Nah, we’re nowhere close to that,” Stiles said, shoving another appetizer into his mouth.
Derek ignored the stab of hurt that flashed through him at the words, because this was pretend. Of course they were nowhere close to being married, they weren’t even actually fucking dating.
Isaac’s gaze shot to him then and Derek cursed internally. He was a Werewolf, so he’d obviously caught Derek’s hurt reaction to Stiles’ words.
“I’m grabbing a drink, you guys want anything?” Stiles asked, pulling away from Derek while licking his fingers.
“A water would be great,” Isaac said.
“Yeah, same.”
“All right, if you guys wanna be boring.” Stiles winked at them and disappeared through the crowd of people.
“He knows we can’t get drunk unless there’s aconite involved right?” Isaac asked.
“He knows. He just likes to rub that in my face sometimes.”
“Fair enough.” Isaac reached out for a random appetizer that was passing by and Derek figured he might as well partake as well. “Hey, sorry if my question was out of line. You and Stiles are just really in love so I figured maybe wedding talks were already happening. I didn’t mean any harm by it.”
Derek forced himself not to wince and shook his head. “It’s fine. Like Stiles said, we’re just not ready for that.”
“But you want to be,” Isaac surmised.
That was a dangerous question to answer, so he just said, “I want a lot of things that probably won’t happen.”
Isaac winced sympathetically at that, but didn’t press the issue. He instead changed the subject so that when Stiles got back, they were somehow talking about hurricane season in Louisiana. Derek had no idea how they’d gotten onto that topic, but he didn’t question it.
Eventually they were ushered towards the far end of the event hall where the tables were located, the side they’d just been mingling on being the dance floor for later. Isaac was seated at a table closer to the front with some of Ben’s family, but Derek and Stiles were relegated to one of the further tables. They were with people Derek didn’t know, but they all seemed nice enough, and Stiles was busy keeping everyone’s attention anyway.
They all clapped politely when the married couple and their wedding party walked in and took the head table. There were less speeches than Derek remembered there being at Boyd and Erica’s wedding, but he supposed it was dependent on the people. Basically everyone in the pack had wanted to give a speech then, so it felt like it took hours for them to finish.
Here it was only the Maid of Honour, the Best Man, the newlyweds and Gerard, for some reason. Once speeches were done and they toasted to the happy couple’s future, the food was served. Derek was amazed at Stiles’ restraint, because he was clearly starving but managed not to devour everything put in front of him like an animal. Derek gave him his bread roll while they waited between the appetizer and the main course and he offered him a grateful smile.
All in all, the night seemed to be going really well. And quickly. Dinner seemed to be over in the blink of an eye, and then they were doing the cake cutting, and the bouquet toss, and all the various dances, and then the usual traditional stuff was over.
Allison and Isaac came to sit with them when people started to mingle more and switch tables, and they spoke about the upcoming trip back to the United States, and how much longer Derek and Stiles would be sticking around.
Isaac gave them pointers on what things to see together on the days they had left, and what time of day they should be going to avoid most of the crowds. When a song Allison liked came on, she excitedly pulled Isaac from his seat and dragged him out onto the dance floor.
Derek wasn’t much of a dancer, but when would he ever have this opportunity again?
“Do you want to dance?” he asked Stiles.
He smiled at him, and while it looked a bit happier than it had earlier, it was still obvious something was bothering him.
“Sure.”
Derek held his hand out for Stiles to take and they headed over to the dance floor. The song was kind of boppy, but Derek pulled Stiles into him anyway, one hand at his waist and the other gripping his, cheek pressed to Stiles’ as they began to sway.
Nobody said they couldn’t slow dance to a pop song, so Derek was going to do as he pleased.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, wanting to burn everything about this moment into his brain forever. He knew after tonight this whole charade was over. They’d wake up tomorrow and be friends again, and the knowledge of that killed him.
He still wasn’t sure if he believed Laura when she said this was better than nothing, but he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. At least he’d have these memories, if nothing else.
The party went on well into the night, as was the norm for wedding receptions, but when he could tell Stiles was starting to lose some steam, he figured they should call it a night. They went to find Allison and Isaac, Derek hugging her tightly and promising he’d look her up on Facebook so they could reconnect. Then he shook Isaac’s hand and thanked him for everything he’d done for them the past few days. He also mumbled another good luck to him too quietly for anyone but another Werewolf to hear. Isaac smiled at him and nodded in thanks.
Derek wanted to leave then, but Stiles tugged him towards the head table, because regardless of how much they both hated Kate, Ben was a nice guy and it would be rude to leave without wishing them well.
Stiles wrapped his arm around Derek’s back as they approached the table, obviously able to feel him tensing, and Derek responded in kind, the two of them walking up to the couple who were chatting with some other guests.
“Congratulations,” Stiles said with a brilliant smile.
“Thank you,” Ben stood up to hold out one hand, shaking both of their free hands. “I appreciate you coming. It was great speaking to you, Derek.” He glanced at Stiles. “Sorry we didn’t have the chance to talk more.”
“Eh, that’s okay.” Stiles waved his free hand dismissively and turned to smile at Derek. “He’s the interesting one anyway.”
Derek managed to hold back a laugh at that, smiling while shaking his head slightly. He turned to look at Stiles, the two of them staring at one another, and then actually laughed, unable to help himself.
Stiles was hands-down the most interesting person he’d ever met.
Art by Deancebra
“Maybe next time,” Ben said, having taken a seat once more and rubbing one hand up and down Kate’s back, like he couldn’t get enough of touching her.
Derek could relate, he was obsessed with touching Stiles.
“Definitely,” Stiles said, even though both he and Derek knew there wouldn’t be one.
Well, unless Ben was around alone. Derek actually really liked the guy, and he hoped he and Kate were happy.
He hoped Ben could give her what he obviously couldn’t.
“Have a good night, enjoy your honeymoon, and congratulations again,” Stiles said with a wave.
“Bye,” Kate said simply. She was obviously too happy to be any more malicious than that, because even that one word lacked its usual bite.
Derek wasn’t going to complain about that, and he and Stiles turned to head out of the event hall together, arms still wrapped around each other.
When they got into the elevator a few moments later, Stiles pulled away from him and stretched. It was obvious he wanted to say something, probably related to how they’d killed this whole fake dating thing, but he was smart enough not to. They weren’t fully alone yet, so they’d have to wait until at least tomorrow afternoon before all the other guests—at least, the malicious Werewolf ones—were gone.
They changed out in silence once they got to the room, taking turns in the bathroom to brush their teeth and use the toilet. There was no point taking yet another shower, and while Derek wasn’t happy about all the scents on his skin—and Stiles’—it was late and he’d already showered once today so he’d live.
As soon as they both got into bed, Derek couldn’t help lamenting the loss of this amazing relationship he’d had with Stiles over the past few days. He was losing all of it the moment he opened his eyes again, and he hated that knowledge.
Stiles really was the best boyfriend to ever boyfriend.
And Derek was never going to have him again.
“What do you mean you want to stay here?” Derek asked, confused.
He was the first to wake the next morning, which in and of itself was surprising to him, but he didn’t worry too much about it. He just went about his business and left the room to hunt down the little café Stiles kept buying their coffee and pastries from. He didn’t end up finding it, but he passed by a crepe place so figured he’d just get one of those for Stiles instead—and one for himself, of course.
He finished his coffee before returning to the room, but brought two crepes for them to have and another coffee for Stiles. He’d expected him to be up and ready to go by the time he showed up, but Stiles was sitting in the middle of the bed with his pyjamas still on and his laptop out.
And telling him he didn’t feel like going sightseeing today.
“I just want a break,” Stiles said with a shrug, wrapping both arms around his bent knee and hugging it to his chest. “We’ve been going out every day since we got here, and we had the wedding yesterday. I’m just tired. You can go out exploring, I did a lot of it on my own the past two days.”
Derek stared at him, feeling his chest tighten, but Stiles just focussed back on the screen in front of him, like it was more important than Derek was.
Fuck, he’d known this was a bad idea. He’d been positive this was going to be a bad fucking idea!
Had Stiles figured out Derek was in love with him? Was he going to act all weird and uncomfortable around him now? Were they not even going to be able to remain friends because of this?!
He had to fix this. He had to fix this!
“What if we just... What if we went for a walk along the Seine?”
“Why?” Stiles asked, still not looking up. “It’s a river. I’ve seen water before.”
“But it’s the Seine,” Derek said slowly, because it wasn’t just any river.
Stiles shrugged, still staring at his computer screen. “You can go, if you want. I’m just gonna stay here.”
Derek didn’t know what to do. Stiles was acting so dismissive right now, and it was honestly making him feel uncomfortable. He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong, and he knew Stiles was acting this way because of something he’d done. But he didn’t get it, because they’d been fine last night at the wedding.
Hadn’t they? Derek had felt like they were fine. Stiles hadn’t acted any differently, and they’d done the whole couple’s thing. So what was going on? Seriously, had Stiles figured out Derek was in love with him?
He had absolutely no idea what to do right now.
So he did the easiest thing.
He left.
He put the two crepes on the desk, and walked out of the room.
Once he was in the corridor, he stood there for a long while, trying to figure out what the fuck had happened and how to fix it. He couldn’t lose Stiles, he fucking couldn’t!
Maybe he was just... Maybe he was upset about still being single or something. Maybe the wedding had made him wish he had someone to spend the rest of his life with.
Maybe he just needed space.
Derek walked down the hallway to the elevator, and only realized once he was in it that he’d left his own breakfast in the bag on the table.
Oh well, he’d just buy himself another one. Or go to a restaurant, try some French cuisine. He was sure there were tons of really good restaurants around the hotel, and while they were expensive, it wasn’t like he was ever coming back to Paris. Might as well make the most of it.
Derek left the hotel and started wandering along the streets. He found a few restaurants that seemed interesting, but he kept talking himself out of going inside because he worried maybe Stiles would want to try it later. He didn’t want to go to a restaurant Stiles might want to go to together.
He ended up just buying a sandwich from a deli he passed by and ate it while he walked. He didn’t have any particular destination in mind, but every time he saw something interesting, he started to turn to point it out to Stiles before remembering he was back at the hotel.
He hated this. He hated that this was happening.
He hated that he’d fucking RSVP’d to Kate’s stupid wedding.
When two came around and he’d done nothing but wander aimlessly for a few hours, he found a street vendor selling shawarma and bought one before asking how to get back to his hotel. He only vaguely understood the directions, but managed to follow them until he reached the Louvre, which was helpful since he had a vague idea of how to get back from there.
He’d finished his shawarma by then, tossing his trash into one of the garbage cans nearby, and paused when his eyes caught sight of the Pont des Arts across the street.
His chest clenched when he thought about the lock he and Stiles had placed on it just for show, and how stupid his wish had been. Of course Stiles wouldn’t want to be with him, what the fuck was he thinking?
Stiles was probably straight. He’d probably just been comfortable with everything they’d done because they were close friends, and likely felt all weird and awkward because he’d realized Derek loved him.
He didn’t know why, but Derek found himself at the crosswalk waiting to cross the street without consciously deciding to move in that direction. He made his way to the other side, and slowly started walking along the bridge, looking at all the various locks people had placed over the years.
His fake one with Stiles was on the other side of it, so he wasn’t looking for it specifically. He was just letting his eyes skim all the locks to see how different they all were, wondering how many of these people were actually still together.
Wondering if anyone else had ever put one here as a lie.
He’d just passed the halfway mark on the bridge, moving around another couple putting their lock in place when a scent caught his attention and he looked ahead.
Derek froze mid-step.
Stiles was standing on the bridge.
Stiles was standing on the bridge, right in front of where they’d put their lock, staring down at it.
Why was Stiles standing on the bridge right in front of where their lock was staring at it?
Derek walked forward a few more steps until he was within hearing distance for a human and said, “Stiles?”
He turned to look at him, then shock crossed his features before he managed to smooth his expression out. “Derek.”
“Hey,” he said uncertainly, moving closer while his eyes strayed to their lock. It was easy to find in the group of them because of the design, but Derek also thought maybe he’d just memorized where it was because it meant something to him. “What are you doing here?”
Stiles said nothing for a moment, and then asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Stiles frowned. “Why would it be obvious?”
Wait, so Stiles didn’t know he was in love with him? Then why was he acting weird?
On top of that, he’d said he didn’t want to leave the room today, and yet here he was, standing on the Pont des Arts. Derek wasn’t mad about him being there, he just didn’t understand why Stiles was here of all places.
Derek’s eyes strayed to their lock, and how stupid this whole thing was, and how much he’d hoped for that dumb wish he’d made to come true despite knowing life didn’t work that way. He didn’t want to ruin this trip any more than it already had been with whatever he’d done to upset Stiles, but he also didn’t want to lie to his face right now.
Whatever, they could just get two different rooms and change their seats for the way home if need be. If Stiles couldn’t handle having him be close anymore. Derek would survive.
Probably.
“I just wanted to relive that moment, I guess,” Derek admitted quietly, still looking at the lock on the bridge. “When we were here with everyone, putting locks on a bridge that represents love. I wanted to pretend it was actually real.”
Stiles said nothing, but Derek heard his heart do a weird double thump in his chest and he pushed on before he lost his nerve.
“I didn’t want you to come on this trip with me, Stiles. Not because I thought we wouldn’t have a good time, but because you were going to pretend to be my boyfriend. It’s a special kind of torture being around your abusive ex-girlfriend, pretending to be dating the guy you’ve been in love with since you were eighteen.”
There. He’d said it. It was out. Stiles could destroy him now, change rooms, cancel the trip, whatever. At least it would be fucking over and Derek could lick his wounds in peace.
For a long while, all he heard was the wind blowing, the water below them, and the people talking around them. Stiles didn’t say a word, but his heart was going crazy in his chest, and Derek figured he was about to get punched.
Would Stiles think he was taking advantage? No, that didn’t make sense, because Stiles was the one who offered being his date. But maybe Derek had taken it too far? After all, while Stiles was the first one to grab his hand and kiss him and whatnot, Derek was the one who deepened the kiss at the Eiffel Tower, and the one who was constantly touching him and kissing him whenever he got the chance.
Hadn’t he kind of taken advantage of the situation? He didn’t have to kiss Stiles as much as he did, or hold his hand, or rub his back. But he had, because he’d wanted to.
Because he loved him.
“What?”
Derek didn’t want to look at Stiles, so he just followed the lines of the wolf engraved on the lock. Stiles probably assumed he’d misheard, so he figured the direct approach was easiest. “I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”
And again, for a moment, Stiles said nothing. This was a shorter lived silence though, because a moment later, he spoke, and Derek looked up at him in confusion.
“Hi, can you slap me?”
Stiles had reached out to grab a passing man’s shirt, motioning his own face. The guy was giving him a weird look, probably not understanding him, and when he pulled away, Stiles let him go and turned to the next closest person approaching him.
“Hi, bonjour, sorry, can you slap me please?”
What the fuck was going on?
The couple seemed to be of the same opinion because they gave Stiles weird looks and moved wide around him before he threw both hands in the air and turned back to Derek.
“I have to do everything myself.”
Then he slapped himself in face.
Hard.
Derek shot forward, grabbing at his wrist before he could think of slapping himself again, utterly confused.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
“Well how else am I supposed to believe this is real?!” Stiles demanded, flailing his free hand. “Also, ow.” He reached up to rub at his smarting cheek, his pale skin turning red from the hard blow. “I really hurt myself. Apparently I’m a good slapper.”
“What are you doing?” Derek asked again.
“Dude, you just told me you loved me,” Stiles insisted, eyebrows shooting up, as if to emphasize the absurdity of the statement. “You think I was going to just stand here and assume this wasn’t a dream?!”
Derek frowned at him. “Why would you be dreaming about me telling you I love you?”
Stiles blinked at him, then let out a short, almost hysterical-sounding laugh. “Wow. Okay. Let’s uh, let’s back up for a second.” He rubbed at his face with his free hand, since Derek was still holding his other wrist. “Okay. So. I’m standing here on this bridge, staring at this lock, because I wanted it to be real.” Stiles motioned the lock.
Derek followed his pointing finger, and tried to piece together what he was saying. His body seemed to clue in before his brain did because his heart started beating double-time, adrenaline flooded his system, and he was struggling to hold his Beta shift at bay. He could feel his eyes burning as they slowly bled gold.
“You wanted it to be real,” he repeated slowly.
“Yeah,” Stiles said, and when he smiled at him this time, it was genuine, the smile finally reaching his eyes after two days of it not managing to. “Because I’m in love with you.”
Derek’s mouth opened. It shut. His brain ground to a halt and he struggled to backtrack and hear those words again. “You’re in love with me.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re saying this to me of your own volition. Not as part of a fake relationship.”
“Yeah.”
Derek stared at him. This couldn’t be real. Maybe he was the one who needed to get slapped.
In true Stiles fashion, he got tired of waiting for Derek to figure it out, rolled his eyes, and grabbed the front of Derek’s shirt with his free hand, wrenching him forward.
When their lips met, Derek felt like someone had just electrocuted him.
Nobody was here. The wedding was over, people were gone, they didn’t have to pretend anymore.
But Stiles was kissing him. Stiles’ lips were moving against his, and he was opening his mouth, and Derek was going to lose his fucking mind!
Stiles was kissing him!
He let go of his wrist instantly and tangled one hand in Stiles’ hair, the other wrapping around his middle and pulling him closer. Stiles had one hand still fisting the front of Derek’s shirt and the other pressed against his lower back, doing his best to pull Derek closer to him.
This was insane. Derek couldn’t believe this was actually happening, but he knew it was. He was kissing Stiles, because Stiles had kissed him first!
Because Stiles was in love with him.
Stiles was in love with him.
Stiles was in love with him!
Derek didn’t mean to laugh, but he did. He broke the kiss and laughed, resting his forehead against Stiles’ and closing his eyes, feeling ready to run from one end of the city to the other with the amount of adrenaline he had shooting through his system.
“Are you serious?” Derek asked.
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” Stiles asked back.
“Because I’m just... I’m not worth it.”
Stiles pulled his forehead back, forcing Derek to straighten as well and open his eyes. Stiles was scowling at him now, and Derek wanted to erase that look on his face. He wanted to go back to the one Stiles had been sporting a moment ago.
“Derek, you are absolutely worth it, what are you talking about?”
“I can’t seem to do this whole boyfriend thing right,” he admitted. “I figured you wouldn’t ever be interested because of it.”
Stiles’ eyebrows shot up and he let out a slow breath, leaning his head forward to press against Derek’s shoulder. “Okay. As much as I want to kiss you in your big, dumb face until it turns blue, clearly we need to talk.”
Derek had fucked it all up already. Perfect. Stiles admitted to being in love with him and Derek ruined it all in literally under a minute. That had to be a record.
“Come on, big guy.” Stiles pulled away from him, but one hand travelled along Derek’s arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together before tugging. “I think that awesome crepe place Isaac brought me to is over that way, let’s go sit down and chat.”
He motioned the end of the bridge Derek had come from and started pulling him in that direction.
Derek allowed it, eyes on their linked hands, and he tightened his grip, hoping he hadn’t messed this up, but also knowing that was probably too much to ask for.
Stiles looked sad. Derek didn’t know what he’d said to make him look sad like that. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, but Stiles was really persistent sometimes and it was hard to resist.
He didn’t think he’d said anything wrong, but he honestly wasn’t sure. He’d just answered all of Stiles’ questions and told him about his thoughts and feelings during this entire trip. He’d also talked through a lot of the same things he’d already told him five years ago after breaking up with Kate, but Stiles had asked him to do that, so he’d obliged.
“I’m really sorry,” Stiles said quietly.
Derek frowned. “For what?”
“Not realizing, I guess?” Stiles raked one hand through his hair, shaking his head, like he was mad at himself. “I always thought once we got her away from you and you kind of found your footing again that you were okay. That you’d kind of gotten over it, you know? That was a stupid thing to think after everything you went through.”
“What do you mean? I’m fine.”
Stiles gave him a look that was a cross between annoyance and pity. “Derek, you literally just told me every single feeling you had during this trip and how you still felt like a disappointment to Kate. How you were doing things wrong, and how when I got upset because of a misunderstanding and you attempting to protect yourself, you blamed yourself and insisted you were in the wrong and had to fix it.”
“I was in the wrong,” he insisted, confused.
“No, you weren’t.” Stiles rubbed his face. “My feelings getting hurt is not your fault. I just—you were protecting yourself because you didn’t know I liked you, and I took it too hard and... look, it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your fault. And Kate is wrong, because you are not a terrible boyfriend. She was just setting impossible expectations because she’s a fucking bitch and wanted to kick you while you were down. You’re an amazing boyfriend.”
Derek opened his mouth to argue, but Stiles slapped a hand over his mouth rather painfully and continued before he could interrupt.
“Shut up, you’re an amazing boyfriend. I had the privilege of being your boyfriend for the past few days, so I think I can speak from experience on this. And before you try and argue that it was all pretend, it wasn’t. You realize that now, right? You’re in love with me, and I’m in love with you. That means we were both acting the way we would have organically if we were dating, which means at the end of the day, we actually were dating. So you were, and are, a good boyfriend. I know you’re going to have a hard time coming to terms with that, but I’ll just have to make sure I remind you as often as possible.” Stiles paused here, and then, “By the way, you know we’re dating now, right? Because we’re totally dating.”
Derek smiled behind the hand still pressed against his mouth, and managed to kiss at Stiles’ palm. He took that to mean it was safe to pull his hand back, but he reached down to grab at one of Derek’s, squeezing it.
“You understand, right? You believe me? About everything?”
Honestly, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt like Kate’s words were still affecting him, but thinking back on everything that had happened over the course of the past few days, he felt like he might believe it. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much of a disappointment he must’ve been compared to Ben for Kate to have treated him so poorly. How obviously he was doing something wrong and that was why everything had fallen apart for them.
But things with Stiles had been really good, barring that one comment he’d made in the Louvre, but Stiles kept insisting that wasn’t his fault. And realistically, Derek had been protecting himself more than anything else, he hadn’t even realized his words would upset Stiles because he hadn’t known Stiles liked him at the time.
Nodding slowly, he looked down at the hand covering his, and shifted so he could wrap both of his own around Stiles’, amazed he could actually do this without it being for an audience.
“I don’t think I realized until this trip how much of a hold she still has on me,” he admitted. It was a hard admission to make, because he honestly hadn’t realized it until now. “It’s been five years, I would’ve assumed I’d be over it by now.”
“She was abusive,” Stiles said quietly. “That kind of trauma doesn’t go away overnight. You’re better than you were, because I remember how that first month after the break-up was, but this isn’t something that just disappears. It takes time, and I think because you never talked about it with anyone, it’s taking a bit more time. But,” he said emphatically, “you’re an awesome boyfriend. And I know we’re gonna have the best time together for the next eight days.”
Derek smiled at him. “Yeah.”
Stiles beamed at him and, without prompting, he leaned over the small table and kissed him. Derek felt overwhelmed at the reminder that they could do this, now. They were officially dating, like Stiles said, and this was a thing they could do.
When he pulled back, he nodded towards the door. “Come on, let’s head back. Today can just be a lazy day, let’s go back to the hotel, hang out together in the room and order dinner.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Of course it does, I’m a master planner,” Stiles insisted with a wink.
They stood and gathered up the few dishes and trash they had from the crepes and drinks they had and headed out of the little shop. Stiles reached out to take his hand when they headed for the crosswalk and Derek couldn’t stop himself from smiling, squeezing tightly once.
Crossing the street, they walked back across the Pont des Arts, and when they were passing by their lock, Stiles stopped them, tugging once on Derek’s hand and pulling him over to the edge. Derek arched an eyebrow, but Stiles said nothing and just dug his free hand into his pocket. When he pulled it back out, he was holding a little key with a paw on the end.
“You didn’t throw it?” Derek asked, surprised.
“I did,” Stiles confirmed, looking down at the key he was holding between two fingers. “The lock came with three keys.”
“Oh.” Derek looked down at it, then at the river that stretched out ahead of them. He smiled and looked back at Stiles. “Wanna throw this one together?”
Stiles turned to him with a smile and nodded. “Yeah. I think that’d be really cool.”
Derek held his free hand out and Stiles dropped it into his palm, then cupped his hand over it. They turned their hands sideways, Derek counted to three, and they separated their hands. The key stuck to Derek’s palm a little, making them both laugh, but he eventually shook his hand out enough for it to fall away and disappear into the river below.
Stiles stared down at the water while Derek turned to stare at him, feeling like he could honestly never be happier.
“It makes sense now.”
Stiles tore his gaze away from the water to look at him, arching an eyebrow in inquiry.
“The past few days, every time you said you loved me, it didn’t even occur to me that the Werewolves around would’ve called you out on the lie.” Derek reached out with his free hand to brush his fingers along Stiles’ cheek. “They never did, but that’s because you weren’t lying.”
“Same goes for you.” Stiles grinned at him. “Don’t think I don’t know Werewolves can catch other Werewolves in lies. Scott and Jackson do it to each other all the time.”
Derek laughed, and leaned forward to kiss him. Stiles kissed him back, and really, nothing could ever be more fucking perfect.
While Stiles’ words about them practically already dating because of how they felt about each other was true, Derek still noticed a distinct difference between before and after the reveal. He attributed it more to the conversations they’d had that first day they’d mutually confessed though.
Stiles was always very careful to make sure Derek knew he was an amazing boyfriend, and he seemed to go out of his way to ensure that Derek was happy. Derek, obviously, did the same for him, but as the days passed, he got a little less hesitant about it.
He wasn’t going to be over the trauma from Kate overnight, but the more time he spent dating Stiles, the easier it got, even when it was only a few days. He supposed a part of it was also because he’d known Stiles for a long time, but in a way that also made it scarier.
Stiles knew how to completely ruin him, and while Derek worried about that every now and then while they rounded out their trip, he forced himself not to let it be the focus. Stiles wasn’t like Kate. He never had been, and he never would be.
The rest of their vacation was fucking amazing. Derek had already wished for it never to end even before they’d started officially dating, but now he doubly didn’t want it to end. He knew nothing would change when they got back, especially since Stiles had literally said, “You’re stuck with me now, no take backsies!”
Still, it wouldn’t be the same because they each had their own places. He knew they’d likely spend time at each other’s places, but it was just different than this trip where they were literally always together.
He knew he had nothing to worry about, he was just thinking about all the lost time, and how much he wanted to make up for it. Regardless, eventually their last day came to a close, and they packed up and got ready for their early morning departure.
Stiles had to wake up an hour earlier than usual just to make sure Derek was awake and relatively human—well, more human than grumpy Werewolf, at any rate—before their flight. They made it to the airport with tons of time to spare and walked around to look at all the cool architecture and the various shops.
Once they were on the plane, it was such a relief this time around because Stiles held his hand during the takeoff and landing, and whenever there was turbulence. He kept Derek’s mind off the panic of being in the air, and Derek felt like this flight was much better than the last one.
Their layover in Chicago was longer this time around so they actually left the airport to go to a restaurant for some food, Derek still unable to believe this was real most of the time. He kept expecting for this whole thing to end, for it to still have been Stiles pretending, but every hour that passed just proved it was still very much happening.
Their second flight felt endless, but only because Derek hated being so close and still so far from home. The only solace he had was that Stiles agreed to come over as soon as they’d both unpacked so that they could spend more time together. It seemed stupid after having been alone in a hotel room for two weeks, but Derek wasn’t going to complain. He wanted his place to reek of Stiles.
Landing back at Sacramento International made him worry he was about to wake up from a dream. That being back home was suddenly going to have everything back to normal. But it wasn’t.
This was happening. It was a thing.
Stiles held his hand while they walked leisurely through the terminal, everyone else rushing about to either get out or catch connecting flights.
They stood together in line for customs, Derek hugging Stiles from behind and his lips pressed against his head. Once they were through, they went to wait for their luggage, Stiles hugging Derek from the side and resting his cheek against his shoulder.
Derek was so glad Stiles was as desperate to keep touching him as he was Stiles. It was such a contrast from his relationship with Kate and really showcased just how much it hadn’t been a real relationship.
Once they had their suitcases and the suit bag, Derek balanced the latter on top of his bag and then wrapped one arm around Stiles’ shoulder while they headed out for arrivals. The sheriff was meant to be picking them up, so they both looked around for Stiles’ father as they exited, but another voice met Derek’s ears and he turned to look in that direction.
“What the fuck is this?”
Stiles turned as well, Jackson walking towards them and eyeing them both, taking in their happy smiles, their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, and the easy way they moved together.
“Get those grins off your faces, they’re freaking me out.”
“Where’s dad?” Stiles asked, making no move to stop smiling. If anything, he smiled wider, as if just to spite Jackson. Derek laughed and leaned over to kiss his temple.
“I owed Hale a beating if necessary, so I volunteered. What the fuck is this?” he asked again, motioning between them. “What’s going on?”
“I was kissing my boyfriend.”
“What boyfriend? Trip’s over.” Jackson was frowning at them, eyes shifting back and forth between Derek and Stiles.
And that was when Derek clued in.
Both Scott and Jackson had given him the shovel talk before he and Stiles had left. Derek just hadn’t realized at the time that that was what they were doing.
They both knew Stiles liked him. That was why they didn’t want them to follow through on this trip, because they were worried about Stiles.
Derek almost laughed. Almost.
Good thing they’d had that heart-to-heart on the Pont des Arts, otherwise Derek might have actually feared for his life.
“Trip was awesome,” Stiles said, walking past Jackson and tugging Derek along so that he had no choice but to follow. “Paris is beautiful. We should go back.”
“Maybe in the future,” Derek insisted. “It was expensive, let’s let our bank accounts recover.”
“But we will go back, right?”
“Yeah.” Derek smiled at him, and Stiles leaned up to give him a quick kiss.
“Think our lock will still be there? I read they cut some of them off after a while because of how heavy it makes the bridge.”
“We’ll just put another one if they did. We can find that store you think must exist for selling special locks.”
“Oh, hell yes!”
“Hello!” Jackson said loudly from behind them, sounding angry.
They both paused to look over their shoulders, Jackson a little red in the face while looking at them. He motioned between them again, seeming frustrated.
“You haven’t explained this! What the hell happened during this trip of yours?!”
“What happens in Paris stays in Paris,” Stiles teased with an impish grin.
“That’s Vegas! Seriously, what the fuck?!”
Stiles just laughed, unrepentant, and Derek leaned over to kiss his temple again, because he was never going to get tired of kissing him.
He was sure they’d tell their friends the full story one day, but for now, Stiles seemed content to leave Jackson guessing, and Derek was okay with that.
Derek was okay with anything, as long as he had Stiles.
He was so, so grateful that Boyd had called in the big guns.
END.