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The harsh sunlight on his face is almost as aggressive as the high-pitched sound that the curtains make as they’re pulled open. Stiles makes a sound that is half shout and half groan before yelling “no!” and turning on the bed and hiding under a pillow.
“You’re going to miss breakfast,” his tormentor says. Pulling the covers away from him. Stiles tries to hold on to them, but he’s too hungover to put much of a fight.
“Don’t want breakfast!” Stiles says, wondering if he can be understood from under the pillow he’s using to hide.
The pillow is rudely taken away, too.
“No idea what you just said,” he’s told, but it seems to be sarcastic so maybe they’re just pretending in order to be an asshole.
Stiles glares up. For all his gruff demeanor and pushy personality, it’s hard to be angry at waking up and seeing Derek Hale wearing only a tight fitting black tank top and matching black board shorts. Does the man own anything that isn’t black or white? They’re at the beach for crying out loud.
“I said I don’t want food,” Stiles says, reaching for the pillow, Derek moves it out of his reach easily. Stiles slumps and ends up hanging halfway off the bed. “Just leave me here to die.”
Stiles hears Derek roll his eyes at him.
“Can’t,” Derek says. “Promised you I wouldn’t let you.”
“Wha-AAAAAA-“
Stiles question turns into a shout as Derek flips the entire mattress to have him roll off the bed.
“There you go,” Derek says as if he hadn’t just used his werewolf strength against a helpless human. He picks Stiles up and the human raises his hands.
“Fine, I give up, I give up!” Stiles says, standing on his own and pushing Derek away. “Take me to breakfast.”
Derek moves away and Stiles thinks he’s finally free to deal with his hangover on his own terms when he feels something thrown at his face. When he’s finally able to look at what it is he realizing it’s one of his own t-shirts, a Batman one. Stiles looks from it to Derek, confused.
“The shirt you have on right now stinks,” he says. “And not just to me, I’m sure,” he adds as he sees Stiles open his mouth to complain.
-
Way later, not only with a clean shirt but also showered and after eating a plate of pancakes Derek had saved from the buffet for him, Stiles felt like an actual human and was ready to spend another day getting drunk by the pool.
“No,” Derek says.
“That’s what I paid this stupid trip for, Sourwolf,” Stiles says.
“You also paid for a whole bunch of tours and stuff.” Derek frowns as he looks through several brochures. The one currently in his hands shows the photo of a waterfall Stiles had been particularly excited to visit.
“Yeah, I did.” Stiles rubs his forehead where a headache is threatening to make a comeback. “I paid for those when I thought I was going to be here with my boyfriend.”
Derek does a small “huh”, as if Stiles hadn’t shared the Earth-shattering news he got a few days ago when Theo had broken up with him, admitted to having cheated on him with his best friend’s assistant, and left him to go back to Beacon Hills alone for the holidays.
This was supposed to be their one-year anniversary trip.
“Well, your boyfriend’s not here,” Derek says. “I’m here, and I think the scuba diving lessons look like fun.”
As to why Derek was there, well, that was because he was the only one available.
His dad had taken the opportunity to go visit family elsewhere in the country, Scott was visiting Allison’s parents in France, Lydia and Jackson were somewhere in Southeast Asia, he had even asked Danny who said that while it sounded fun, he actually had plans to stay with Ethan’s pack.
And that’s where Derek came in.
For most of his life, Derek had been the impossibly hot guy Stiles got to see sometimes but never really made friends with. After Derek’s Alpha uncle went rogue and bit Scott, Derek was there to help him with his new werewolf powers. When his dad needed someone in the force that knew about the supernatural and had the muscle to deal with non-human threats, Derek stepped up. Who was the guy that had access to incredibly old books that Stiles needed for his dissertation and had already translated them from several ancient languages? Derek.
Derek had never liked Theo, Stiles remembers that much. Scott and him would scrunch up their noses when he came back from a date with the chimera. Stiles thought it was some sort of supernatural prejudice thing. But no, it was because they could smell other people on Theo. Scott mentioned it, Stiles said his new and improved sense of smell was making him paranoid.
The only one available, however, when Stiles was at his house, alone, and ready to spend the most miserable Christmas ever, had been Derek. The werewolf, now much older and finer than he had been when Stiles had met him back in high school, showed up at his door and when he heard about the trip insisted that Stiles take it instead of waste it.
“I don’t want to be in some beach in Mexico all by myself,” Stiles had complained.
And so now he was in said Mexican beach with Derek Hale.
“Well, you’re not gonna drink yourself stupid again,” Derek says. “Do you even remember last night?”
“Yeah, you were annoyed at me for enjoying my time on my trip which I paid for, by the way,” Stiles points out.
“I was trying to keep you from jumping in the pool while drunk,” Derek corrects him.
“You bad mouthed me to the hotel staff when I asked for dinner,” Stiles goes on.
“You yelled at a cleaning lady that you wanted pizza. I was apologizing to her.”
“And then you tried to come to the bathroom with me, as if I wasn’t 25 years-old and pretty capable of doing that by myself.”
Derek sighs but doesn’t interrupt Stiles. Instead, he looks at Stiles with his infuriatingly gorgeous eyes, expecting him to go on.
“And then…” Stiles says, then goes silent, thinking for a while. Worry bubbles up in his stomach with each passing moment. He looks at Derek, terrified and swallows before talking again. “Oh my god, what happened?”
“Apparently,” Derek says, smirking. He has the nerve to smirk at Stiles’ misfortune. “You and a toilet became very close friends. Too close. A nice old man came to tell me my husband was apologizing to it for having to stand up and leave him after dumping the worst of you in it, just like how your ex did when he left you.”
Stiles hides his face in his hands. “Please tell me I didn’t say that.”
“Oh, you said it.” Derek is clearly trying not to laugh at the memory. “Several times.”
“So then I came back?” Stiles asks, hopeful.
“Nope,” Derek says. “I had to climb into the stall to get you out of there.”
“So, then you helped me sober up and helped me walk gracefully up to our room?”
“Oh no, you couldn't walk. You couldn't even really stand by yourself,” Derek says, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms. Even in his distress Stiles can appreciate how that shows off his arms and chest. “I had to carry you there.”
Stiles groans. “Carry?”
“Bridal style,” Derek confirms with a cheeky grin and an eyebrow waggle.
“Great,” Stiles says, deflating. “Just great.”
Derek actually looks worried for him, he places a supportive hand on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles pushes it off. They sit in awkward silence for a couple of minutes.
“Look-“ Derek starts, Stiles doesn’t let him continue.
“All of the tours and stuff are paid for, Derek,” he says, cutting. “You already got me to come on this stupid trip so why don’t you go on whatever you want and leave me alone?”
“Nope,” Derek says, his frown deepening as he stood up. “Can’t do that. Promised you I wouldn’t leave you alone last night.”
“I was drunk last night,” Stiles reminds him. “I don’t remember.”
“But I do, and I take my promises very seriously.”
-
Stiles has to hand it to Derek, he can use his charms when necessary. One moment he was complaining he didn’t want to go on sightseeing tour, next he knew he was swimming next to small island using a snorkel set to see the underwater life.
It started when Derek said he needed Stiles to put sunscreen on his back. Stiles was not going to miss that opportunity. Then Derek said he would get Stiles’ back in return and he did so while also massaging him so the human was too relaxed to realize what he was doing when Derek said “tour’s almost leaving, let’s go” and followed him out of their room.
Several other tourists had gone to the tour with them, and they smiled big unbelieving smiles when Stiles had said he and Derek were just friends. As he starts talking with the group, Stiles’ more social nature gets the better of him. He starts asking questions about the older couple who’re there celebrating their 45th wedding anniversary, and then he gets on friendly terms with a trio of girls from Denmark.
The snorkeling is over too soon but afterwards they’re taken to a small restaurant for the best seafood meal Stiles has ever had before they’re taken so he can’t be too mad about it. They take a boat back to the resort where the girls make them promise they’ll all go out dancing later. Derek doesn’t want to but Stiles also knows how to work his own charms.
“C’mon Derek, I promised them we would go,” Stiles says, eyes wide. “You know how important promises are.”
Derek lets out an annoyed sigh, but Stiles can see the small smile at the end of it. “I didn’t promise them anything,” he says.
“What did you promise me, anyway?” Stiles asks.
They’re back in their room. Stiles has showered and is in the process of looking for an outfit for the night. Derek showered before him and is now laying on his bed wearing white cargo shorts and a black t-shirt. His hair is a little longer than usual, and he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days. Stiles hates that the beach bum look works so well on him.
“You asked me to promise you,” Derek tells him.
“So, what? Not like werewolves are magically forced to keep promises,” Stiles says.
Stiles has put on a pair of black jeans and has two shirts in his hands. One is a Captain America t-shirt, the other is a Hawaiian style shirt with a bright pink, blue and purple patter.
“I just don’t like to break promises,” Derek says. “Feels shitty. Take the shirt, we’ve seen enough superhero shirts from you.”
Stiles looks at him and smiles. “Oh, you think I’d look better in this, honey?”
Since everyone assumed they were a couple, Stiles had begun playing into it. Specifically because he knew the pet names annoyed Derek.
“Better than sugarbear,” Derek commented. “And yeah, bright colors suit you.”
“Ah, the gray wolfman knows colors!” Stiles exclaims. Derek rolls his eyes at him.
“You’re ridiculous,” Derek snorts. Stiles finishes dressing up and Derek easily follows him out of the room. They wait for the girls at the hotel bar, where Derek pointedly asks for two sodas as they sit down.
“You can relax, you know?” Stiles says. “I’m in a much better place and have no plans of being carried back to my room for two nights in a row.”
Derek frowns at that statement. “I didn’t complain.”
Stiles shrugs. “Yeah, well, thanks. You really helped me get over myself today.”
Derek waves his hand at him dismissively. “I just needed to get you around people. You like talking too much to not do it when you have the chance.”
“That’s because I always have something interesting to say.”
Derek smiles at him, warmly, but the moment is over too soon as the girls arrive. The night is a blur of bars and music where Derek is always close enough to make him feel grounded. He’s happy and tipsy as they walk back to their room, having left the girls in their own moments ago.
“Derek!” Stiles says because he likes Derek’s name, a lot. “That was a lot of fun!”
Derek looks at him with a mixture of worry and fondness. Stiles thinks maybe it’s weird to see a human intoxicated when he can’t get drunk himself.
“I’m fine!” He says. “Drunk but not that drunk. I’m fine.”
“So you keep saying,” Derek says. “Still gonna make you take some aspirin before you go to bed.”
“Ugh, fiiiine.” They enter their room and Stiles beelines his way to the his bed. He’s about to go into blissful sleep when Derek shakes him awake. He finds himself again glaring at him, but he does take the glass of water being handed to him because that is a good idea.
“You never answered me, you know,” Stiles says, once he’s downed the liquid and he remembers.
“What?”
“What you promised me,” Stiles says.
Derek rolls his eyes, takes his shirt off as he goes to turn off the light. Stiles gets another look at his muscular back and triskele tattoos, but he is not deterred.
“C’mon,” he whines more than says.
“Stiles, you were in a really bad spot last night,” Derek explains and turns off the light.
“I know,” Stiles says. “I was there.”
“And yet, you don’t remember,” Derek turns off the light and lies on his bed. Stiles tries to slowly move into a position where he can jump him.
“Stiles,” Derek says. “I can hear you moving.”
“Damn wolf ears,” Stiles mutters.
“You weren’t precisely being stealthy,” Derek says. He turns and they find themselves looking at each other in the dark. Stiles can see Derek’s eyes reflecting light in the dark, it’d be creepy if he wasn’t used to it.
“Tell me,” Stiles whispers again.
Derek sighs. “I promised three things,” he says. “One, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
Stiles grins stupidly at him.
“Two, I wouldn’t let you die.”
“Alive and well, so good job so far.”
Silence falls in the room. Stiles is sure Derek hopes he’s asleep. Tough luck.
“You’re missing one,” Stiles sing songs.
“I can’t keep that one so it doesn’t matter,” Derek says and before Stiles can say anything he is shut down by what is a very obviously angry Alpha growling “good night” and turning his back on him.
“Good night,” Stiles answers in a low whisper.
-
“Derek, I know you’re awake,” Stiles says as he stares at Derek. The morning sun lights up their room. “You obviously woke up when I did.”
Derek groans, curling in on himself. “Of course I did, you’re noisy.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “You’re going to miss breakfast.”
“Don’t want breakfast,” Derek says, he doesn’t even sound tired.
“Well, you promised you wouldn’t leave me alone, remember?”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you,” Derek says. He gets up and walks past Stiles to get to his clothes.
“You didn’t tell me everything,” Stiles says.
“Let’s go,” Derek says, as if Stiles hadn’t spoken. “Meat’s the first thing to go from the buffet and I need some bacon.”
-
Derek’s mood seems to have lifted after breakfast, and he suggests the waterfall hiking tour. The girls from the day before go with them and it’s a fun day for all of them. Specially for Stiles who gets to be fussed over by Derek who’s worried he will slip and fall so he stays close by.
“Really taking that don’t let me die promise seriously, huh?” Stiles teases.
“Only because Sheriff Stilinski will kill me if I don’t bring you back in one piece.”
“Who’s Sheriff Stilinski?” One of the girls asks.
“My dad,” Stiles answers. “Pretty sure he’s asked you to call him Noah plenty of times, too.”
“Ah, in-laws,” the girl says. Derek blushes, making the girls laugh.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Stiles says, once they’re far away enough from the group.
“I already told you the mermaid girl from the hotel said she’d shows us her tail tomorrow.”
“Not that,” Stiles says. “What if I got you off one promise in exchange for telling me the third.”
Derek looks at him, unimpressed. “No.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“That’s not even a deal that makes sense!” Derek complains. “Not like I’m going to let you die or leave you alone for the rest of this trip.”
“So after this trip is done, dying is back on the table?”
“I’m considering it,” Derek says, but Stiles can tell he’s joking.
“Come on, you made me curious. I might actually die if you don’t tell me.”
The light softens as evening comes closer. They’re walking along a trail surrounded by colorful flowers. Stiles feels like a dinosaur might pop up at any given second.
“You’re not a cat, Stiles.”
“I might’ve been bitten by one,” Stiles says. “Werejaguar bite, the one second you weren’t looking. Strengths: catlike reflexes and powerful claws! Weakness: curiosity. I am dying as we speak.”
Derek laughs. Stiles is at first surprised that he has managed to get a good, honest-to-God laugh from him. This is like a superpower. “You don’t smell like a werejaguar,” he says. “And curiosity doesn’t kill any kind of werecat. You know this, you’ve read the bestiary.”
Stiles doesn’t answer, he’s transfixed by Derek’s smile as he looks around the jungle. He’s back to wearing a tank top that is sinfully tight on him and those black board shorts that accentuate his legs and glutes just so.
He’s quiet for too long, he knows, when Derek turns to him and instantly goes serious again.
“So, there’s a singles event at the hotel tonight,” he says. Stiles looks at him, confused.
“Would be weird to show up when everyone thinks we’re…”
“I know,” Derek says. “But the girls asked if we could be there. In case they need, y’know help.”
“I forget what assholes us men can be sometimes,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. Derek nods, looking guilty. “Is there, like, a dress code or anything?”
-
Turns out there is.
It’s a fancier event, so they have to dress up. Stiles will just use the clothes he brought for the Christmas party twice.
Derek showers and dresses while Stiles does the same. He shouts that he will be at the bar when Stiles takes too long (in his defense, the hotel shower is glorious) and Stiles yells back an ok.
He only feels slightly sad when he remembers he bought this ensemble specifically to try and wow Theo. The last few days had been wonderful for him, reminding him of how easy it was for him to be social when he didn’t have Theo next to him reminding him not to annoy the people around him.
It’s a simple enough outfit: navy blue pants, red shirt and a button-less blazer that accentuated his shoulders just so. He remembers hoping Theo would like it, now he doesn’t really care.
He heads to the bar and in his way there he finds Derek. He has to stop and appreciate the view. The older werewolf is standing in the middle of the lobby, looking up at an intricate mural on the ceiling. He trimmed his beard to the usual 5 0’clock shadow that suits him so well, but you can tell his hair is longer than he’s used to. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored white suit over a jet black shirt, two buttons open to reveal some of his delectable chest hair and pec cleavage. Stiles feels his heart skip a beat at the same time Derek turns to look at him.
He probably heard it, Stiles thinks.
“Hey,” Derek says. “Looking good.”
“This old thing?” Stiles jokes but does a full twirl before standing in front of Derek. “I don’t even think it fits right.”
He’s fishing for compliments, but he doesn’t care.
“It fits perfectly,” Derek says. Stiles smiles at him and he clears his throat, as if he suddenly remembered something.
“Girls said we should head on to the party, get a good table, warn them if we see any red flags,” he says.
Stiles nods. “So this is older brother Derek coming out?”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Trust me, none of my sisters need me to protect them.”
The hotel’s restaurant is tastefully decorated for the occasion. An elegant Christmas tree lights up a corner and gold and silver ornaments hang from the roof. The dance floor in the middle of the room is empty and they take a table close to it.
It’s a magical spell, and one Stiles knows will end a couple days after Christmas when they’ll fly back to Beacon Hills and become acquaintances that see each other every once in a while again. He can, however, enjoy the spell for the time being, so he does.
The girls and more guests arrive, and the party livens up. A live band plays music and soon it’s only him and Derek at the table. They sit in comfortable silence at first, then they start talking about Beacon Hills, people they both know, places in common. Derek tells Stiles about some newer tomes he’s working on translating and he listens in rapt fascination until their eyes meet.
Derek clears his throat. “Anyway, I don’t want to bore you,” he says. “I’ll share the translation with you when it’s done.”
“I’m not bored,” Stiles says. Because he isn’t. Derek took what could’ve been the worst two weeks of his life and transformed them into something great.
“Well-“
Derek’s interrupted by the current song ending. People applaud the band and the vocalist take the mic.
“How about we play something slower, set the mood for something more intimate.” An excited murmur of agreement. “I see a couple of lovebirds sitting down that should get up and dance!”
It takes them a moment to realize she’s talking about them. People look at them expectantly. Stiles is about to shake his head, thinking Derek won’t appreciate the spotlight, but Derek is up and offering his hand to Stiles before he can do or say anything. People around them applaud.
“Really?” Stiles asks, taking his hand.
Derek shrugs. “Why not?”
It’s a little awkward at first. Derek very easily places one hand on Stiles’ back, but Stiles moves his own all over Derek’s arm and shoulder, trying to find the best spot.
“People are gonna think you’re feeling me up,” Derek says, grinning.
“Oh, God, stop,” Stiles says, finally settling his hand on Derek’s shoulder. From this close Derek’s so obviously taller and broader than him. Stiles can’t help but feel giddy as they begin to move to the slow tune. The song is in Spanish so he asks Derek what’s it about.
“The usual,” Derek says. “Love, flowers, promises.”
Stiles nods at the word, the question once again at the tip of his tongue.
“I can’t keep that last promise,” Derek says. “Because I’m an asshole.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “What did I even ask?”
“You made me promise I wouldn’t let you fall in love with another asshole,” Derek explains and looks away.
The keep on moving to the music, even as Stiles processes what Derek is saying.
“Derek, you’re not an asshole,” Stiles says.
Derek grunts. “Stiles, you’re not stupid,” he says through gritted teeth. “Why do you think I’m here?”
“Because I already paid for everyth-“
“No, Stiles, ugh.”
Derek rested his forehead on Stiles’, a move so intimate that it almost made Stiles stop, but Derek kept them moving to the music.
“I heard from Scott you broke up with Theo and I cheered. Honest to God cheered. So I ran to your place thinking, finally, I can make my move and you were so… sad.”
Stiles swallows. He closes his eyes to better focus on Derek’s words.
“I couldn’t fathom why. Why you’d waste your time being sad for him and when you mentioned this trip I knew I had to come with you. I knew I had to show you Theo didn’t deserve you. I knew I had to make you fall in love with me.”
“Derek-“
“But that night when you broke down and told me just how manipulative he was sometimes, how little he cared for what you wanted, I realized I was doing the same. And before I could tell you to just go to our room you made me promise those things.”
Don’t leave me alone. Don’t let me die. Don’t let me fall in love with another asshole.
“I’m sorry,” Derek finally says. The song ends and they stand apart to clap again for the band. As they start another song, Derek excuses himself and walks away.
Stiles follows.
-
“Derek,” Stiles calls out to him. He’s heading for the beach. Not running. Stiles would know Derek didn’t want to be caught if he was running like he meant it.
“Derek!”
He stops. Stiles also stops a few steps behind him.
“I don’t care about those promises,” Stiles says.
Derek turns to him. “You seemed very serious at the time.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “I was drunk, I don’t remember.”
Derek nods.
“What I do remember is you making sure I don’t stay home alone for the holiday. Making sure I enjoy myself instead of being drunk and depressed in my room. I remember you making sure I don’t hurt myself because you know how clumsy I can be.”
Derek laughs, Stiles smiles at him.
“You’re not an asshole, Derek,” Stiles tells him. “And even if you were, well, maybe I’m kind of an asshole, too.”
Derek looks at him, confused, “Why?”
“Well, here I am, a week after a break up.” He takes one step closer to Derek. “Thinking, do I want this because the super hot werewolf in front of me is smart and caring? Or do I want it because I want to upload some photos to Instagram to really make my ex jealous?”
Derek looks at him. Slowly, he smirks. “I could hear one of those was a lie.”
“Yeah, well,” Stiles says. “Maybe ‘super hot’ is pushing it a little too far.”
Derek lets out a small laugh. “Lie.”
“I’m still gonna post you shirtless on my Instagram,” Stiles says moving forward again, making them impossibly close.
“I’m fine with that,” Derek answers and hugs Stiles closer as their lips come together in a powerful kiss. It only lasts a few seconds before they part to see each other and smile.
“Should we go to our room?” Stiles asks. “I would even let you carry me,” he adds with a wink. “Bridal style.”
-
Stiles wakes up not because of the sunlight that’s coming into their bedroom through the half drawn curtains, but because he can feel Derek’s hot breath on the back of his neck and a hot, hard length teasing his ass.
“We’re going to be late for breakfast,” Stiles says, but he’s smiling as he spreads his legs and lets himself be manhandled by the werewolf.
“Don’t care.”