October 9: Dragon + medieval castle (Stiles/Derek)
(Read on AO3)
“We’ve already tried that,” Stiles sighs, then shouts, “NEXT!”
Another person waltzes into the room, cocky confidence apparent from his swagger. He doesn’t even get a full sentence out before Stiles rolls his eyes and yells, “NEXT!”
The man, dressed in colorful tunic and cape with gold trim, huffs, “But you didn’t let me finish!”
Stiles sits forward on throne and narrows his eyes at him. “I don’t need to let you finish. I already know it won’t work just from how you walked in the room. Now leave my sight before I have to have you taken from it.”
The man turns and leaves, cape billowing behind him as he rushes from the room, clearly pissed off, but Stiles doesn’t care in the slightest.
“Scott!” he yells, slumping back onto his throne. At once, the double doors that the man had just left from open again to reveal a dark-haired man with a crooked jaw, a small stack of parchments tucked into his arms. He rushes to Stiles’ side and quirks his head, waiting for a command.
“How many more are there? And why don’t we have any good proposals? All these guys are awful. There’s no way they can defeat the dragon with sheer cockiness and bravado.”
“Well,” Scott starts, biting his lip in hesitation before he speaks up again, “there is someone else, but… you’re not going to like it.”
“We’re kind of out of options here, Scott. I’ll take anything at this point. Hell, I’d even take Der--” Stiles stops to stare at the doors opening to reveal someone he never thought he’d see again. Stiles glares at the man casually walking into the room like he’s not approaching a king on his throne.
“Derek Hale,” Stiles grits out through clenched teeth.
The man, Derek, gives Stiles a wry grin and Scott a nod before he gives Stiles a half-hearted bow. “Stiles,” he says in return once he’s standing. Scott sighs and bows his head in defeat.
“What, pray tell, are you doing here, Prince Hale?” Stiles says, fake smile plastered on his face while he sits up straighter, hoping it’s intimidating and kingly. He probably doesn’t work since Derek’s always been able to see right through him.
Which is annoying and terrible and one of the many things he hates about Derek Hale. Except that’s a total lie and he’s been in love with Derek for years, ever since they commiserated about how terrible balls were and how the royal Argents in the west were awful and how they would rather be allies with Queen Lydia in the East than find themselves on her enemy list.
Stiles had only been a prince back then, like Derek, and the comradery and banter was a pleasant relief from the usual stiff conversation he had with other royals. But then Derek had stopped returning his letters and Stiles found himself with more responsibility than he would’ve liked given his dad’s poor health and forced abdication. He realized Derek had his reasons, had heard rumors of fighting between the Argents and Hales, but it still hurt, especially when all the fighting had ended and Derek still hadn’t written him or even attended an event.
Despite the several years since he’d last seen him, Stiles thought Derek looked good, more than good. He was strong and muscular, handsome with several days worth of stubble on his face. Unlike the haughty bravado from the previous stranger, Derek’s confidence was real and suit him well. There was nothing showy about it. It was admirable, and attractive, and damnit, Stiles was supposed to be hating him and finding him annoying.
“Well, King Stilinski, I heard a rumor you have a little… dragon problem. And, since I’ve already had quite a deal of experience with them in my kingdom in the north, I thought I would lend you my expertise. I’m sure you would’ve written me a letter asking for help, but I figured I’d save you the trouble.”
Stiles scrunches his face, annoyed. He knows he told Scott he was desperate, but why couldn’t the Hales have sent Laura, or Cora. Why Derek?!
“So, you’re only helping out of the goodness of your heart?”
Derek snorts like Stiles told a joke. “Of course not. I believe I heard there was a reward?” He lifts an eyebrow at Stiles and leans in.
“You would find no use for the reward that was announced.”
Derek frowns in thought for a bit, rubs his chin. “I don’t know about that. Depends on what it was. May I ask… what is the reward?”
Stiles crosses his arms and pouts and secretly hates Scott for convincing him to go along with this stupid reward idea in the first place. As if reciting a piece of paper, Stiles says, “For the successful removal of the dragon and it’s permanent exodus from the kingdom, the victor will be rewarded a five thousand gold pieces, a parcel of land of King Stilinski’s choice, and if the victor is also of royal lineage, an alliance between their and King Stilinski’s kingdoms either by treaty or hand in marriage, whichever King Stilinski deems appropriate.”
Derek smiles wide, and Stiles’s isn’t sure he’s ever seen Derek smile that big before. “That’s what I thought I’d heard. I’d like to negotiate that last part, if you don’t mind.”
“Negotiate!” Stiles shouts. “You haven’t even done anything yet! How do I know you won’t fail like every other person?”
“I won’t.”
“Oh? You’re just that confident, are you? What are you the dragon whisperer?”
Derek smirks. “Maybe.” Derek looks at Scott and gestures for him to give Stiles the papers in his hands. “I’ve taken the liberty of writing up an agreement. We’ll both sign it right here and now, in front of your advisor Scott as a witness, and then I’ll be on my way to take care of your dragon.”
Beyond annoyed, Stiles yanks the papers from Scott’s hands and skims them. Most of it details what Stiles had said was the reward, even offering suggestions of what sections of land of the kingdom Derek preferred over others. He even indicated that he would decline the reward money and instead give it to those that had suffered because of the dragon. It was touching and kind, and Stiles was inclined to sign it, except for the last detail.
“You… you don’t want a treaty between our kingdoms?” Stiles asks, a little hurt if he’s being honest. He thought for sure that was Derek’s whole angle here, but maybe not.
Derek sighs and gives Stiles a small, encouraging smile. “Keep reading, Stiles.”
Confused, Stiles looks down and continues reading, and when he understands what Derek was getting at, his head snaps up, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “Really?” he asks, near breathless from excitement and shock.
With a fond smile, Derek nods. “Really. If… if King Stilinski deems it appropriate, that is.”
Stiles grins. “Hell yeah, I do. Scott. Scott!” he shouts, only to turn and see Scott’s still standing next to him. “Give me a quill.”
Trying his best to hide his eye roll but failing, Scott hands Stiles a pen, who signs the papers, and then takes the papers and the quill to Derek, who signs as well.
After it’s signed by both, Stiles jumps from his throne and throws his arms around Derek’s neck. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” Derek whispers as he wraps his arms around Stiles and hugs him.
“You’ll make it up to me,” Stiles replies with a wink. He gives Derek a kiss and says, “Now go get rid of that dragon so we can start planning our wedding.”
Derek’s eyes are bright and gives Stiles another kiss. “As you wish, your majesty.”
“I vant to drink your blood,” Stiles says with the most ridiculous accent he can muster. He stands in front of Derek in a black cape that he holds up and fake pointy vampire teeth, complete with fake blood running down his chin.
“Really? That’s your costume?” Derek says with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” Stiles says, moving his hands to his hips. “This is a great costume, and it compliments yours, so we’re still doing a couples costume, so hah!”
Derek rolls his eyes. They had had a huge argument over the fact that Stiles was so insistent that they wear a couples costume this year at the Halloween block party. Derek had refused, insisting that the couples costumes they had to choose from were terrible and expensive, and he’d rather just go as a werewolf because it meant it was free.
“Vampire and werewolf?” Derek reiterates.
“Uh, yeah, totally goes together. Both of them fight over Bella, it works.”
This time Derek is pretty sure his eye roll can be seen from space. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going.”
“Derek!” Stiles whines. “We have to go, we already promised to bring pie.”
Derek frowns, arms crossed, sitting on the couch. Slowly, Stiles approaches until he’s straddling Derek on the couch. He looks ridiculous with the fake teeth and blood and cape that he’ll probably be choked by before the night is out, Derek’s sure. But he’s pouting at Derek, and damn it, Derek has a very difficult time telling Stiles no when he looks like that.
“Dereeek,” Stiles sings, hands coming up to his shoulders, pout on full blast. “Please can we go as vampire and werewolf, who against all odds fell in love even though they are sworn enemies?”
With a sigh, Derek leans his head back and uncrosses his arms. “Fine. But you mention Twilight or Bella, and I’m gone.”
“Deal,” Stiles says triumph clear in his voice. He pecks Derek on the lips; it’s not comfortable with his fake teeth, and the imitation blood gets on Derek’s face.
Stiles climbs off and goes to grab his shoes and the pie sitting on the counter.
“Don’t let Mark from down the street see you, by the way,” Derek adds before disappearing in the bathroom to change into his costume (he might go as a werewolf but he tries to dress it up a little so people still think it’s a costume with torn shirt, torn pants).
“Why?” Stiles calls out. “It’s not like he’s a vampire.”
Derek doesn’t say a word but smirks at himself in the mirror as he lets his fangs and claws out.
Suddenly, Stiles is standing in the doorway. “Mark is not a vampire, is he?”
His question is met with more silence as Derek decides to add a little fake blood that Stiles left on the counter to his shirt and hands.
“Derek, he’s not… oh my god, our neighbor is a vampire. Derek, oh my god!”
Derek just laughs to himself as he pushes past Stiles and leaves, listening to Stiles rant about all the signs and that he should’ve realized it sooner.
“Not even if we were the last two people on Earth,” he had said, and to be honest, it was in a fit of rage and Derek had provoked him, and he never thought he’d have to be eating his words.
But, boy, was he eating them now, and they did not taste like delicious chicken.
Oh… chicken. Stiles could really go for some chicken right now.
Or anything right now. He could chew on a piece of gum and pretend it was that special Willy Wonka kind and he can shout out the flavors like the one chick who turned into a blue balloon. And the fact he is fantasizing about fictional chewing gum is sign enough that he is delusional and needs food and water and sleep.
“Derek, please tell me you found something because I don’t think I can make it much longer,” he says into the walkie talkie in his hand.
He looks out the windshield of the parked RV he’s in at the deserted and desolate town in front of him. He thinks they’re somewhere outside of Reno, so the desert-ness makes sense. All the wrecked and abandoned cars along the street though… not so much.
After a few more moments with the continued static sound of the walkie talkie, Stiles sits up a little straighter, concern coloring his tone.
“Derek?” he asks again. “Come on, dude, I know you have broody silent type on lock down, but now’s not the time to demonstrate it.”
More static.
“I swear to god, Derek, if you’re not answering on purpose, I’m shooting you in the foot. Waste of ammo be damned.”
Static.
“Shit,” Stiles says to himself.
He looks behind him for the shotgun, grabs it and stuffs several bullets in his pockets. He slings the gun over his shoulder and grabs the bat sitting on the passenger seat and stuffs the keys and the walkie talkie in his pocket before climbing out of the RV. He shuts the door as quietly as he can and makes his way to the grocery store across the street that Derek had gone into for some food and supplies that might be useful.
He runs as quickly and quietly as he can. Loud noises attract the living and the undead, so if he can be stealthy, the better. It’s why he brought the bat, not just the gun. He gets to the front of the store, the doors pushed ajar already. He thinks about trying the walkie talkie again, but decides against it and forges ahead.
Several overhead lights are out, only a few still flickering with power. It makes the broken and near barren shelves of the store even more creepy. Well, that and the rotting, near headless corpses that are strewn about.
Stiles doesn’t even want to go in further, but Derek isn’t answering and Derek never not answers. Never.
Ever since they found each other again, after Beacon Hills was evacuated and everyone got separated or quarantined… or dead, Derek and Stiles never went more than fifteen or twenty minutes without checking in.
They were all each other had left in this world, hadn’t even found an actual living person for miles and near months (though they’d come across plenty of zombies since then). They might have found each other annoying and frustrating and loud and grumpy at one point in time, but that was before. Before everything went to shit and it wasn’t something magical or werewolf related and didn’t just affect Beacon Hills but the whole damn world.
It’s been a good thirty minutes, pushing close to forty since the last time Stiles heard Derek on the walkie, and he can feel the panic creep up his spine as he makes his way toward the back of the grocery store.
When he reaches the swinging doors to the back room, he sees Derek’s bag, a small stack of cans stacked next to it. He looks into the windows of the doors and sees the walkie on the floor just inside.
“Shit, shit, shit!” Stiles whispers. Something must have happened. Derek wouldn’t just leave the food and the walkie here.
Slowly, with his bat gripped tight in his hands, he uses it to push the doors open and shuffles in. He pauses just inside, straining his ears to see if he can hear anything, a struggle, grunting, growling. But other than the buzzing of the light fixtures that have shorted out, it’s silent.
The backroom of this store is huge, giant shelves reaching up to the ceiling, pallets and ripped boxes scattered around, most of the food is rotting, flies already swarming around what was once fresh fruit. As he gets further, there’s a sliver of light coming from what must be a back office.
He inches towards it, bat at the ready, but before he can get out of there, a shadow falls into the light and staggers. Stiles almost screams, but he keeps it inside. The shadow is shaped a lot like a dog, but it’s clearly hurt, limping down the hall. Blue eyes flash at Stiles before the dog--wolf--takes a few more steps and slowly changes back into a human. It’s painfully slow, both for Stiles to watch, but it looks like Derek is hurting too.
“Sti--” he whispers out before falling out on the ground, several feet away from Stiles.
“Fuck, Derek!” he hisses, rushing over to Derek’s side. He knows he needs to help Derek, but Derek must have been fighting something, or several somethings, to have taken his wolf form and come out looking like he’d gone 10 rounds with a meat cleaver. He can’t risk focusing on Derek if whatever it was is still lurking.
Luckily there’s only one hallway and the office, and after a peak in the office, he can confirm Derek took care of whatever the hell it was that beat him up. He can’t even tell if it’s human, werewolf, or zombie, that’s how much Derek had torn it up.
He runs back to Derek, who’s still laying on the floor, eyes closed. He’s not healing very fast these days, running on very little sleep, food, and water. His body is better than Stiles sure, but it’s not the same as it was before.
“Come on, Derek. We gotta get out of here,” Stiles says, setting his bat down and doing his best to shake Derek and pull him up from the ground. It takes a few tries to pull on his arms, but Derek finally is coherent enough to sit up.
“There’s,” Derek starts, then coughs. “Office... water.”
“You want me to go in there where you left the shreds of that thing?!”
“Water,” Derek says again, eyes fluttering open briefly before shutting again.
Stiles sighs and gets up again, leaving Derek to slump over slightly. He goes back to the office, and sure enough there’s a water cooler in the corner that miraculously still has water in it. He looks around for some kind of container and spots an upturned bowl on the desk. It’s probably gross, but it’s better than cupping his hands. He takes it and does it best to wipe it out with his hand, then puts it under the water cooler spigot and fills it up.
They should probably take the rest of it, but he’ll deal with that later. Now he has to help Derek. He carefully carries the bowl full of water to Derek, trying not to slosh too much of it over the sides as he approaches. He sets it down, trying to get Derek to sit up a little better before picking the bowl up with one hand and steadying Derek with a hand on his back as he puts the bowl to his lips.
Derek drinks, a great deal of the water running down the corners of his mouth. But he does drink some of it and it seems to help. He opens his eyes for longer and after several sips, he takes the bowl from Stiles with his own hands and gulps down more.
Once the bowl is empty, Derek seems more revived. He takes several breathes and then says, “Thank you.”
Stiles sighs, a small grin playing on his lips. “You’re welcome. Come on, we need to get out of here.”
Derek nods and gestures for Stiles to take the bowl and go get his own water. Stiles shakes his head. “I’ll find something to put the rest of it in to take with us. Need something bigger than a bowl.”
“There’s,” Derek starts, then takes a breath, “still some tupperware on the shelves.”
“That’ll work,” Stiles says as he stands up. “Can you stand?”
“Yeah. Just…” He holds his hand up to Stiles, and Stiles takes it and gets a good grip on his arm too with his other hand and pulls Derek up. Derek staggers into him a little, but when he’s steady on his own feet, Stiles loosens his grip.
“I’ll go get the tupperware and the water, you get your bag and the cans. I’ll help you carry stuff too,” Stiles says.
With a nod, they set out on their tasks, Stiles jogging to the aisle of tupperware and grabs as many as he can and stripping them of their cardboard boxes as he goes back to the office to fill them up with water.
By the time he’s gotten all of the water, not as much as he thought there was, in sealed containers, Derek’s bag is filled with all the canned items he found, what was left of the batteries, and a couple first aid kits. He hands Stiles a reusable grocery bag to put the water in, and after Derek makes sure the outside coast is clear, they jog back to the RV across the street.
~
They’re parked for the night at an out of the way state park that’s not near any civilization if there were any civilization to be near. They’ve found it’s easier, less likely they run into unfriendlies. Derek’s mostly recovered now, patched up in the places where the gashes were deep and they’re not healing as fast. He had started a small fire and was heating up a few cans of beans for he and Stiles.
They eat in silence, sounds of bugs, who are able to survive anything apparently, surrounding them, a few hoots of an owl here and there as the moon rises above them and it’s dark.
Eventually, Stiles breaks the silence by punching Derek in the arm, not the one that’s still wounded, he’s not that mean.
“Ow! What the hell was that for?!”
“You can’t do that to me ever again, you hear me? Never again. We’re going together in every possible situation and we’re checking in every 10 minutes now if we’re separated.”
Derek almost rolls his eyes except for the deadly serious look Stiles is giving him. “Stiles, I’m okay. I’m here.”
“Yeah, for now! What if you’re not so lucky next time? What if there’s a whole pack of them and you’re overpowered? What then Derek?!”
“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Derek says calmly, scooting closer to Stiles. He can tell Stiles is spinning, that he’s working himself up into a panic attack.
“You can’t possibly promise that, Derek. I can’t--” Stiles voice breaks, and Derek can tell his eyes are shiny, not just from the light of the fire. “I can’t lose you, Derek. I can’t. You’re… you’re all I have left, and I refuse to let you go. You can’t go.”
The tears are flowing freely now, and Derek bundles Stiles up in his arms and holds him while he lets Stiles cry his fear and frustration out.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against Stiles’s hair. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere without you, okay? I promise.”
Stiles sniffs and nods, pressing in closer to Derek. It’s not a comfortable position, and parts of Derek still ache, but he ignores it.
“Let’s go to sleep,” Derek says after a while; it’s starting to get cold, the fire barely even there. He can feel Stiles nod against his chest and slowly push himself away to sit up. Derek takes care of kicking sand on the remaining embers of the fire while Stiles gathers their utensils.
They climb back into the RV and strip down to boxers and slip under the covers of the small bed in the back. Derek pulls Stiles in against his chest, and Stiles goes willingly, letting Derek make him the little spoon and puts himself between Stiles and the world.
When he’s positive Stiles is asleep, Derek sighs and kisses the back of Stiles’s neck and whispers into his skin, “I’m yours and by your side always. I promise.” He squeezes Stiles a little, letting his hand rest on Stiles’s chest, feeling his steady heart beat against his palm, hearing the rhythm in his ears as he falls asleep promising himself and his heart to this boy forever.
“Are you absolutely positive that there is no one else in your household that could try on this glove?”
The woman, Lady Kate Argent, shakes her head, but Prince Stiles can tell she’s hiding something. She must be.
“I don’t know why you want someone to wear just one glove! It’s preposterous and very unpractical,” says the other woman, Jennifer something, Stiles thinks was her name.
“I’m looking for the owner of this glove, and I’m sorry madams, but neither of you have hands that fit it,” he says, yanking the glove from Jennifer’s hand where she’s trying to fold it over to make it appear to fit. “Come along,” Stiles says to his men, gesturing for the door.
When he exits the door, he literally runs into someone who’s on his way in. “Pardon me,” Stiles says, staring at the man in front of him. He’s in raggedy, dirty clothes, and his face is smudged and dirty as well. There’s something about him though that looks familiar.
“Apologies, your majesty,” the man says, bowing to Stiles and keeping his eyes downcast and averted.
“Do you live here?” Stiles asks, pointing to the building behind him.
“Oh, he’s nobody,” Kate says, rushing up to the door.
“He’s just a servant; he’s not important,” Jennifer adds behind Kate.
Stiles’s face grows cold as he turns to look back at them, showing them just how uninterested in them and their interruptions he is. “I don’t believe I asked either of you.” He turns back to face the man, waiting.
“I’m… just a servant, like they said,” the man answers. That voice… that voice sounds just like...
“But you live here? Near here?”
The man nods.
“Will you look at me, please?” Stiles asks.
Slowly the man lifts his chin, eyes finding Stiles’s as he fully faces the prince. Stiles gasps because he might not have recognized him by his clothes or seen his face beneath all the dirt, but those eyes.
He’ll never forget those eyes. He can’t ever forget how the shined and glistened beneath the starlight as they walked through the garden and talked, laughed, bantered. They were such a unique color, green and gold, sometimes even blue if the light of the stars caught it just right. They were captivating and gorgeous and unforgettable.
“It’s you,” Stiles says, breathless, as he smiles. He holds up the glove in his hand. “I believe this is yours. You dropped it.”
The man laughs and smiles. “I was wondering where that went,” he says, accepting the glove from Stiles’s hand, putting it on to show that it fits perfectly. Stiles takes his hand and threads their fingers together and steps in closer to him.
“You never did tell me your name,” Stiles says, “which is very rude, by the way. Makes it very difficult to do things like make wedding announcements.”
The man bites back a grin. “It’s Derek. My name’s Derek Hale.”
Stiles wears a match grin before he presses his lips to Derek’s. “It’s nice to meet you, Derek,” he whispers against his lips, ignoring the smudge of dirt on his own face from kissing Derek.
Sam throws his head back and sighs loudly. “I said, some witch got a hold of Cas, and now he can’t speak. I think?”
“You think?!”
“Well it’s not like he can tell me himself, Dean! He got someone else to call me and read a hand-written message to me. I’m sure it took him sometime to convince the guy to do that, let alone the weirdness of the message. He said a “Rowena-like” person, so I’m assuming it was a witch, without him having to say so.”
Dean rubs his forehead. “Okay, where is he then?”
“He was in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but says he can meet us in Wichita tomorrow.”
“I’m not even going to ask what the hell he was doing in Oklahoma,” Dean mutters. “Okay, fine, you research, I’m calling Rowena to see if she has any ideas.
It’s not difficult to find Cas in Wichita the next day. He had somehow gotten someone’s phone and texted Sam the address of the hotel he was staying. Where the hell Cas’s phone is and why he’s only texting and calling Sam gets added to the list of questions that Dean is choosing not to ask, especially when the guy can’t answer them. And yeah, he’s a little hurt that it’s Sam getting all the texts and calls and not him, but whatever.
When they get to Cas’s room and knocks, the door swings open to reveal a rather grumpy and rumpled Castiel on the other side.
“Heya, Cas,” Dean says with a grin because as crappy as the situation is, he’s happy to see the angel. It’s been a while, too long, in Dean’s opinion, but he doesn’t voice it.
Castiel just nods and steps back to let them both in. Ever prepared, Sam hands Castiel a pen and a notebook for him to answer their questions.
It takes a while, but they finally get the gist and that the witch put a curse on him and skipped town with no trace (and Cas had looked).
“Well, that limits our options for reversal according to my research,” Sam says, opening up his laptop to go through what he found. “Without her, it’s hard to say what will reverse it. There are certain universal things that can reverse curses though, and we could try those?”
Cas shrugs like he’ll do anything.
Sam looks to Dean. “Did Rowena say anything or have any ideas?”
“Uh, no, she wasn’t any help,” Dean says quickly. It’s a total lie. Rowena had given him an idea, but Dean thought she was being ridiculous and stupid, and there was no way he was doing it.
With a disappointed huff, Sam turns back to his screen. “Let’s start at the top.”
~
None of them work. They’ve tried lemons, saltwater, crystals, running water, holy water, sage and herbs, hell, they even made a wish in a well. But, Cas still returns unable to voice his opinion on the matter.
They’re out of options, and save for tracking the witch down, Cas might be mute for longer than he’d like.
“Maybe we should call Rowena again, maybe we can get her here or take Cas to her and she could do something?” Sam suggests, only to have both Dean and Cas frown at him for the suggestions.
“I’m not calling Rowena again,” Dean said.
Sam sighs. “Fine. I’m hungry, I’m going to go get some food for us.” Dean nods and watches as his brother leaves, the door shutting quietly behind him.
Castiel taps Dean on the arm and shoves the pad of paper in his face.
Why are you so against calling Rowena again? What did she really say?
“Ugh, Cas. Nothing. She was… It was stupid, and it won’t work anyway. She didn’t know what she was talking about.”
Cas narrows his eyes at him, and then underlines the 2nd question again. Then writes,
What is it, Dean? Tell me. It’s not like it would make it worse.
Dean huffs because that’s where Cas is wrong. It could make it so much worse, especially if it actually worked. But that’s Dean imagining and getting ahead of himself anyway.
Dean. Don’t make me ask again.
Cas is clearly pissed now, and Dean finally gives in. An angry Cas, especially one angry at him, is not something he wants to deal with for long term.
“She said true love’s kiss usually works to break these things. But, it’s ridiculous, Cas! Where the hell are we even going to find your--”
Suddenly, Dean can’t speak because he has an armful of Cas who is kissing him. Like, really, actually kissing him, lips and tongue and holy shit this is happening.
Cas pulls back with a sigh and says in a whisper, “You’re such an idiot.”
And, shit it actually worked? Cas is talking! Which means…
“I’m your true love?” Dean asks, eyes wide in a look of awe.
Cas rolls his eyes. “Again, you’re an idiot.”
Dean frowns. “You didn’t even call me or text me. You called Sam!”
Cas huffs and moves so that he’s sitting in Dean’s lap, which Dean is not complaining about in the slightest. “I lost my phone, and I only remembered the one number. It happened to be Sam’s. Don’t get upset.” As if to emphasize this, Cas pecks Dean on the lips.
Dean pouts a little, but he supposes he can accept that explanation, especially if it means he can kiss Cas some more. He pulls Castiel in closer for a kiss, only to have Sam open the door.
“Okay, guys, get this, we could try--” Sam stops, starring with his mouth open at the display of Castiel on Dean’s lap before him.
Sam just nods, sets two the fast food bags down and says, “I’m getting another room. See you guys tomorrow morning,” before disappearing as fast as he had appeared.
It’s done! Last one! Thanks for sticking with me on these and forgiving me for these last super belated ones. If you read this one carefully, you’ll catch cameo references to all the pairings I wrote in this series. This was a lot of fun, and while challenging, I’m glad I did it. Hope y’all enjoyed it too!! Now on to Christmas fics to write! :)
(Read on AO3)
Stiles walks into the crowded halloween party on a mission. He’s looking for a werewolf. Not just any werewolf, a specific one, and he’s praying and hoping he is here, or else the little Red Riding Hood get up Stiles is currently sporting will all be for naught.
The party theme was an interesting one. It was a Halloween costume party, of course, but those that were single were asked to dress as one half of a couple costumes. The idea was that you could find a matching pair at the party and perhaps hit it off.
As Stiles scours the crowd for his werewolf--and he knows for a fact that he’ll be a werewolf because he always uses it as his costume, refusing to spend money on something stupid and uncomfortable when he’s got a built in one--Stiles loses count of how many lamps and moth pairs his seen. He passes a couple dressed as Dallas Stars hockey players, which he thinks is oddly specific, but they seem to be into each other, so good for them.
He stops in the kitchen where he sees a short blonde boy pulling out hand pies from the oven, and he looks to be dressed all in silver with a bowl on his head. There’s another guy looking at him adoringly dressed as a hockey player (which, what is with all the hockey players?). It’s not until the blonde stands beside him that Stiles realizes he’s dressed as the Stanley cup, which is brilliant and super creative.
After grabbing a drink and a handful of pretzels, Stiles continues his search for his grumpy werewolf. A guy dressed in a tux, arm wrapped around a nerdy dude, compliments Stiles on his outfit after a very obvious body scan, which causes the nerdy dude to give the spy a dirty look. The last thing Stiles wants to do is get into some jealous lover’s quarrel so he nods his thanks and moves past them into a room where people are dancing.
There’s several couples everywhere, and Stiles takes a moment to admire the costumes they’re wearing. There’s two guys, one wearing angel wings dancing with a guy in flannel, and another couple that look to be wearing some kind of matching space uniform outfits. There’s a Captain America and Winter Soldier pair, which he appreciates greatly, and a pair of extravagantly dressed couple whose outfits are sparkly and sequined. Stiles thinks they might be figure skaters, but he can’t say for sure. Whatever they are, they are adorable and can’t stop looking at each other. He sees someone dressed as a cop pass by a girl in scrubs, and it reminds him of his dad and Melissa. It’d be a fitting pair in his mind, but he’s not sure that these strangers would see that.
He pushes past the dancers and spots Allison and Lydia along the edge of the floor dancing together. They’re dressed as pirates, and Stiles grins at the picture they make. He’s glad they got together finally. The pining was annoying, and that’s saying a lot considering the pining he did over Lydia in high school. He catches Allison’s eye, and she waves him over.
“Hey, Stiles!” Allison says when Stiles approaches.
Lydia looks him up and down and smiles. “Red Riding Hood? Nice touch.”
Stiles grins. “Thanks. Speaking of… seen him anywhere?”
Allison nods. “He went out back, too much noise and people. He’s the only werewolf so far, you’ll see him.”
“Thanks!” Stiles says before skipping out to the back door and stepping out to the cool air.
There’s less people outside, although there are still a few couples standing around and talking or drinking (or making out). It doesn’t take him long to spot Derek, though, standing as far away from the house he can get without leaving the property entirely.
Stiles quickly goes to him. “My, what big ears you have,” he says in greeting, getting Derek to turn to face him.
Derek scans his outfit and as he does, the smile on his face grows. He steps up closer to Stiles and replies, “The better to hear you with, my dear.”
“My, what a big nose you have,” Stiles says, grinning up at Derek as they get closer, chests pressed together.
“The better to smell you with, my dear,” Derek says, bending to run his nose along Stiles’s neck, then following the same path with his fangs, tips lightly grazing the skin of Stiles’s throat, causing him to shiver.
He waits until Derek’s eyes are locked with his before saying, “My, what big teeth you have.”
Derek’s eyes grow dark and his arms come up around Stiles’s waist. “The better to eat you with, my dear.”
Stiles lets out a half moan, half laugh. “Maybe later. I’d settle for a kiss for now though,” he whispers.
Derek’s eyes sparkle and he obliges after retracting his fangs, kissing Stiles on the lips. It’s been a long time coming, and Stiles sighs into the kiss, melting into Derek’s arms. When they finally break apart, Stiles runs his thumb along Derek’s bottom lip.
“Why’d we wait until now to do that?” he asks Derek, who shrugs in reply.
“You said something about it being more romantic to find each other dressed like this.”
“And I stand by that statement. It was super romantic.”
Derek rolls his eyes and smiles. “Come on, let’s get out of here. If I see another lamp costume, I’m going to hit someone.”
Stiles laughs out loud but follows Derek out of the party, excited for what their night alone will entail.
Yeah, I know, October is long past, but I’m trying to finish out these last three.
(Read on AO3)
“And over here is our city square where every Friday evening we have live music and every Saturday morning we have a farmer’s market.”
Derek stands in awe in the square, trying to listen to the tour guide and keep up with the group, but getting distracted by his surroundings, the people that walk past, some flying past. It’s just so cool, and he can’t believe he’s actually here. Finally.
He’d dreamt of coming to Laputa since he was little, and as he looks around him now, actually standing there in the legendary city among the clouds, it’s better than he dreamed.
It’s not like the streets are paved with gold or anything, which he had briefly thought they were when he had first heard about the city when he was five, but there is a type of shimmer there in the stones. It wasn’t until about five years ago that those without wings were allowed to stay in the city for extended periods, and not just a quick jaunt of a vacation, in an attempt to avoid overcrowding. It helped that the world is more open now, more accepting of those with wings down below, the city opened its doors to more than just tourists. And as soon as Derek had been old enough and saved up enough money, he jumped at the chance to go and to stay more than just a visit.
He’s currently here in Laputa for a semester abroad, and as part of his time here, he’ll be required to study the culture of Laputa’s citizens, their tendencies and how they differ from those down below who were born below or relocated there from Laputa after a certain amount of time. Of course, what better way to study culture and tendencies of Laputians than to live among them. And he really means live among…
“Hey!” a voice shouts across the square, the tour guide stopping their speech (that Derek wasn’t even paying attention to) to focus their attention on the intruder. The intruder flies quickly to the group, and when Derek gets a good look at him, he’s very cute, upturned nose, freckles, large brown eyes.
“Can I help you?” the tour guide asks.
“Yeah,” the intruder says, “this is the tour group from UBH, right?”
“Yes? What did-” the tour guide starts before she’s interrupted.
“Awesome!” The boy turns to the group and squints, like he’s looking for something. “Is there a Derek in the group? A Derek Hale?”
Derek freezes, staring at the winged man. Someone next to him nudges him in the side, and it snaps Derek out of his revery. He lifts his hand slightly and waves, giving a half smile.
“Uh, I’m Derek?” he says, and the boy grins and bounces over to Derek and stands next to him, turning to face the tour guide.
Everyone stares at them for a little while, even the tour guide, but when the boy says nothing, the tour guide shrugs and continues their spiel.
When everyone’s attention has returned to the tour, the boy leans over to Derek and whispers, “Hi. I’m Stiles.” Derek nods hi, but is still slightly confused since the name doesn’t sound familiar to him. Then Stiles adds, “I’m your new roomie.”
Derek turns to stare at him because Stiles is not at all who he pictured as the Laputian he’d be paired with while he studied abroad for the semester. He had been giving a name, one he couldn’t pronounce, and he’d envisioned a stuffy, nerdy guy who either wouldn’t give Derek the time of day or wouldn’t leave Derek alone.
This guy, though, Stiles, didn’t strike him as either. He seemed nice, not to mention attractive, and he clearly was excited to meet Derek. It made Derek at little more at ease. The last thing he wanted was to spend his whole semester with someone that hated him.
“Hey, so… how invested in finishing this tour are you?” Stiles asks as the tour guide lead them from the square.
“Uh…” Derek pauses because as long as he knew where things were, either because of the tour or maybe even Stiles, he didn’t necessarily have to follow along. “If I don’t know where something is, would you help me?”
Stiles looks at him, eyes widened. “Dude, of course! I’ll even take you on the locals-only unofficial tour.” He gives Derek a wink, which makes him blush slightly. “Are you hungry? I know this awesome place around the corner from here that you’re gonna love.”
He gives Derek a big, earnest grin, and Derek finds himself agreeing. With a finger to his lips, Stiles takes Derek’s hand and sneaks them towards the back of the group and out, leading him towards the restaurant.
Derek can’t stop thinking about Stiles’s hand in his, and after they’ve gotten food and are sitting across from each other in a small booth in the corner, Stiles gesticulating with his hands and he talks about all the places he’ll take Derek, how excited he is to show Derek his place, what all they will do together, Derek quickly realizes he’s in trouble. Stiles is funny and adorable and so energetic, and there’s no way Derek can keep himself from falling for him.
He might have already started, in fact, and it’s only going to get worse when they’re living together and around each other all the time.
This semester might in fact kill Derek, and it won’t be because of the school work.
______
A/N: It's short, I know, because I am so delayed on this and wanted to wrap it up and the last ones. So I purposefully kept it short. But, just know that Stiles is just as gone on Derek and his shy quietness and fascination with everything about Laputa. He and Derek become fast friends and Stiles takes him everywhere around Laputa and answers all his questions, helps him with assignments, and Derek is just as reciprocal about telling Stiles about his life below. Their flirting of course has gotten to extreme levels but neither has done anything about it (dumb boys). About half-way through the semester, there's a big festival Laputa puts on, and Stiles of course takes Derek and while there they have a magical moment on a cloud ferry that results in love confessions and lots of lots of kissing. Derek finishes the semester and has to leave, but he and Stiles email and text and Stiles even makes it down below over a summer to visit. As soon as Derek graduates, he moves to Laputa (with Stiles of course) and starts graduate school, continuing his study of Laputian culture. THE END.
“So have you asked him yet?!” Scott asked excitedly as he sat down next to Stiles in the great hall.
“Shhhh!!!” Stiles hushed. “He’s a werewolf, you know, and sitting like 20 feet away!” he hisses.
Scott, at least, looks a little sheepish. “So,” Scott says, pointedly whispering now, “have you asked him to go with you to Hogsmeade yet? Halloween is in like three days!”
Stiles groans and buries his head in his arms on the table. “I know! I just… what if he says no? What if he’s already going with someone? What if he just looks at me and laughs?!”
With a frown, Scott looks across the hall at Derek, the man in question, and sees him eating with a few people, laughing at something that was said.
“I don’t think he’d laugh at you. He doesn’t seem like that kind of person? Besides, have you seen the way he stares at you in transfiguration class? It’s like you’re Harry Potter or something.”
Stiles blushes. “No he doesn’t.”
Scott rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever, Stiles. You need to ask him already. You said you would last week, and then two days ago and then yesterday. It’s getting down to the wire, and I mean, you’re welcome to come with Allison and I, but…”
“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles says, waving Scott off, “You’ve got a big thing planned to woo her over butterbeers, I know. I’ll do it okay. Later."
Scott narrows his eyes at him and stares.
“Tomorrow,” Stiles replies.
Scott continues to stare.
“After our class.”
Pleased with this, Scott’s face relaxes. “I’m holding you to that, Stiles.”
“That’s why you’re my bestie,” Stiles says with a smile even though inside he’s freaking out.
~
“The Hogsmeade trip is in three days,” Erica says when Derek sits besides her in the common room.
“Um, I knew that, thank you?” Derek says, pulling out his quill and paper and the book he borrowed from the library.
“Well, I just thought I’d remind you since you informed all of us you were going to bring someone and this someone has yet to be named.”
Derek sighs. “Because I don’t want you to attack him before I even get a chance to ask him.”
Erica’s eyes glitter. “It’s a boy?!”
Derek groans, realizing he should’ve used an ambiguous pronoun. Now Erica’s never going to stop hounding him until she can figure it out.
“Do I know him? Is he in our house? Is he our age? Is he in one of our classes? I mean he has to be right? O.M.G. Derek, who is it?! You can’t leave me hanging!”
“I most certainly can,” he says, ignoring all of her questions and opening his book. He buries his face in it, tuning out Erica’s pointed sighs and hissed “Dereks” to get his attention. She eventually gives up and returns to her own homework.
The thing is… he thought for sure he would’ve already asked Stiles already, but then he overheard him talking to his friend Scott about asking someone. Suddenly Derek didn’t want to ask Stiles because he clearly had someone in mind already and the last thing he wants is for Stiles to grimace and admit he already has a date.
Only he heard Scott ask Stiles this morning if he’d ask the person yet, and it didn’t sound like Stiles had. Maybe Derek still had a chance to ask Stiles before he could ask someone else? Would that be mean to do?
Although, it’s not like Derek should know that Stiles is going to ask someone, it’s just that sometimes he can’t turn his werewolf hearing off, especially when it comes to Stiles. He knows he shouldn’t, has heard plenty of lectures from his parents and Laura about eavesdropping, but he can’t help it with Stiles. He always wants to listen to him, know where he is, and okay maybe that’s creepy, but it’s not like he does it on purpose. It’s like his body does it automatically and sometimes he doesn’t even realize it.
Which, that’s probably something he should ask his mom about, but first he’s gotta get a date with Stiles. He’ll ask him for sure, tomorrow, after class. And if Stiles has already asked someone, then, he’ll accept that and be okay. Probably.
~
Transfiguration is usually Stiles’s favorite class, but today he wants it to be over already and it is taking forever . Scott keeps giving him subtle looks throughout class, like he thinks Stiles will chicken out and forget what he promised to do afterwards. And yeah okay maybe he would’ve but does Scott need to stare at him every 20 seconds?! He gets it okay, Scott!
Finally , class is dismissed, and Stiles ignores Scott’s narrowed gaze and gathers up his books and scans the room to find Derek. Derek is also gathering up his books, so Stiles decides he’ll wait until he’s done and walking out of the room before he pounces.
Before he can do that though, Derek looks up and spots him staring and suddenly Stiles is frozen in place. Derek smiles and waves slightly and grabs his bag and starts walking towards Stiles who is still standing next to his desk.
“Uh, hey, Stiles,” Derek says as he approaches.
“Derek, hey! Hi. Hello. Sup?”
Slightly puzzled, Derek answers, “Uh, nothing? I was wondering, could I talk to you real quick? Or do you have to get to your next class?”
“Oh, uh, no, I’ve got time. Sure.” Derek waves for Stiles to lead the way out of the classroom and down the hallway, and Stiles is panicking as he walks.
What if Derek heard him talking to Scott and knows Stiles is going to ask him out and this is way of telling Stiles he doesn’t need to bother? Maybe he’s trying to be a nice guy and break it to him gently before Stiles can embarrass himself by asking? Scott had said he seemed nice, wouldn’t laugh at him. Stiles isn’t sure he likes this scenario any better than the laughing though to be honest.
They finally stop in an out of the way corner of the castle. Stiles thinks it’s the way towards the Hufflepuff common rooms, but he always gets slightly turned around when coming out of class with the staircases changing.
“Hey, so,” Derek starts, but Stiles cuts him off.
“Look, I need to say something first.”
“Uh, okay?” Derek looks a little nervous, and Stiles isn’t sure why he would be the nervous one in this scenario.
“The Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow, and--”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk--”
“Look, Derek, I get it, you don’t want to go with me and I appreciate you trying to save me the embarrassment of being rejected, but I need to know the reason. Am I annoying or something? Do I smell? I can’t handle it, Derek. I’m all about constructive feedback. Let me have it.” Stiles stands there, eyes closed and waving for Derek to “let him have it”.
Derek doesn’t even know what just happened. He says as much. “Uh, what? Stiles, what are you talking about?”
Stile sighs and opens his eyes to stare at Derek. “I know you probably overheard Scott and I about me asking you out.” Derek flushes, which Stiles takes as confirmation. “And clearly this is you trying to stop me from making a fool of myself, which I appreciate.”
“No, Stiles, you’ve got it all wrong. I… I did hear you talking to Scott about taking someone to Hogsmeade.” At the confession, Stiles nods, like he’s got this all figured out already and just giving Derek the courtesy of saying it outloud. “But, I didn’t know that someone was me. I was worried you were going to ask someone else before I got to ask you! That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to ask you to go with me to Hogsmeade.”
Suddenly Stiles stops nodding and looks up at Derek, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. “Wait, what? Say that again?”
Derek grins and steps up closer to Stiles. “Stiles, will you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow for Halloween?”
Stiles’s smile grows wide and he bobs his head. “I will totally go with you only if you sit by me at the Halloween feast beforehand?”
“I’d love to,” Derek replies, biting his lip to hold back his growing smile.
When they finally make it to their next classes, hand in hand, walking in seconds before class starts, both Scott and Erica roll their eyes and mutter “finally” under their breath.
