Chapter Text
The coffee shop Stiles worked at was near the Beacon Hills High School. School had just started again, so every day Stiles saw students go to and from the school, and many of them would stop by to get caffeinated to make the day more endurable. Those suckers. Stiles still thanked the universe he’d graduated a couple of months ago, and never had to go back to that hellhole.
The shop was a cute place with pink and light yellow walls that kind of made Stiles think of a grandmother’s house, even though he’d never actually visited anyone’s grandmother…
Tables took up the places by the windows, so customers could look out into the quiet street where the occasional car whizzed past, and on each table was a vase with a single flower.
"Dude," Stiles groaned. "What are you even doing?"
Scott looked up at him from where he'd been looking at his biceps.
"What? I'm trying to see what it says! The first word could be something like... ha or he..? Or... something.. no, maybe that’s an m…"
At Stiles' questioning look, Scott broke out:
"I don't know! I'm losing my mind here, Stiles! I've had this thing for- what, a week now? It should be visible by now. Hell, Danny's was visible after three days! And just the thought of my Soul Mate being out there…” Scott quieted down a bit, and Stiles had to strain to hear his next words.
“I don’t know… I just want to meet her… Or him… Hell, I wouldn’t even mind if it were a dude, that’s how bad I want to find- ” Scott broke off as the manager gave him a warning look. Stiles grimaced at the jerk when he turned his back, and then consoled his best friend in a whisper:
"It's different with everyone, you know that, Scott, so don't let it get you down. Soon your Words will be completely visible, and you’ll meet her- or him.” Stiles beamed. “Now get your ass over here and make a soy latte."
_______
That summer in Beacon Hills was quiet. A lot of people had gone to different countries, like Danny and Ethan, who'd gone to Brazil to celebrate them being Soul Mates. Stiles remembered that day in the showers after lacrosse practice. Something black on Danny’s left shoulder blade had coincidentally caught his eye – because of course he would never check out his friend’s drool-worthy back muscles and ass, Stiles is better than that, dammit.
“Hey dude, I think you’re getting your Words.”
Danny had whipped around, eyes wide, and what followed was a session of “okay, if you hold the mirror at that angle- a bit more to the right- dammit Stilinski, the other right”.
A couple of days later, the words What did I miss? were visible on his back, and when Ethan enrolled in the High School a month later, and arrived late to the first class on his first day, he whispered those exact words to Danny.
The appearance of Words, with a capital W, was one of the most important events in one’s life. Words were the first thing your Soul Mate would ever say to you. They commonly appeared a couple of weeks before you met the person. Some people got their Words when they were just toddlers – though that was very rare – and others could go through half their lives without getting them.
Stiles was excited on Scott’s behalf, of course he was. And if he regularly had to nudge away the uncertain thought that what if he never got his words? it was nobody else’s business but his own.
Stiles and Scott graduated High School a few months back and decided to take a sabbatical, working in the new coffee shop in town. Stiles had been scraping together quite a lot of money throughout High School by tutoring freshmen, so even though his dad was sad to see him go (or relieved, whatever), Stiles moved into a studio apartment. He still had his beloved jeep, so he frequently made surprise visits to his dad to make sure he lived off healthier food than fast food.
“Hey dad!” Stiles yelled as he made his way into the kitchen holding a few grocery bags. A sleepy Sheriff appeared in the doorway a moment after.
“You’re sleeping at-” Stiles looked at the clock. “5 PM? Really? Should I start looking into retirement homes, old man?”
The Sheriff glared at him, but Stiles knew he loved when his son visited.
“What did you bring this ti- Salad? Spinach?” His dad gave him a pointed look. “Do I look like a goddamn rabbit?”
“Hey, don’t insult my cooking skills! In twenty minutes, this will all look delicious. A nice Greek salad and spinach lasagna, what do ya say, huh?” Stiles said enthusiastically with a smile that would have brought the Cheshire cat’s to shame.
John shook his head fondly, and started putting plates on the table.
They ate in comfortable silence. Once in a while, Stiles sneaked peaks at his dad’s Words on the side of the man’s neck. They read So you’re the one I’ve been waiting for all week? Those Words never failed to make Stiles smile. They were just so… Mom.
“What are you smiling about, son?”
“Your Words.” Stiles said, hesitantly. Memories of his mom were both good and bad. It felt nice to remember how she used to smile wide and as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But then Stiles couldn’t help but think how he’d never see that smile again. He didn’t bring mom up much when he was with his dad. It was too painful. But he had been thinking so much about Words lately (what with Scott’s Words, and Danny’s too, appearing), so he wanted his dad’s take on it.
“How did it feel?” Stiles started, and quickly explained. “To get your words?” He’d asked Scott as soon as the skin on his biceps had started darkening, but as a man of a very simple nature, Scott had only shrugged.
“It felt a bit… tingly.” The Sheriff stated, and Stiles huffed at the vague answer.
“Anyway, why this sudden interest in Words? When it comes to Soul Mates, you’ve always been one of the most disinterested people I’ve known, so why now?” John sounded bewildered, his brow furrowed. And it was true, Stiles had never bothered enough to obsess over who his Soul Mate might be, or when he’d get his Words, or ‘oh, I hope my Soul Mate is rich and famous’. He’d avoided – very successfully until recently – thinking about Soul Mates at all.
“Scott got his.” Stiles murmured, pushing his food around on his plate with a fork, not even sure why he was feeling so melancholy. “I mean, he can’t read ‘em yet. Right now it’s just a black smudge on his arm, but it’s definitely his Words.”
“Oh.” John said quietly, before continuing in a more cheerful tone. “Good for him!”
“Hey, how about some cake, huh, son?” He went to the fridge, and from it, he ceremoniously presented two plates each with a, frankly, very delicious-looking piece of cake.
“Dad-”
“No, it’s carrot cake, so it’s healthy!”
“Healthy, my ass!” Stiles scoffed. “They fill that stuff with all kinds of unhealthy stuff, put a bit of carrot and additional carrot flavor in it, and call it carrot cake, so they can sell it to people who think they are making a healthy choice by choosing it over chocolate cake.”
“But…Stiles!” His father all but whined, and gave him a puppy-eyed look that Stiles just knew he’d learned from Scott.
“…okay, but only this one time, and I don’t wanna see you eating any more sweets for the next week!”
They ate the cake while watching the game on tv. They didn’t mention Words for the rest of the night. Stiles figured it distressed his dad to think of Words since the Sheriff knew he’d never see his Soul Mate again. But Stiles still couldn’t stop thinking about it.
When would he get his Words?