i’m going on vacation for ~2 weeks, far-far away from my PC&tablet, so there would be no drawings for a while) Cheers!
In exactly five weeks from this moment, Teen Wolf will be about to premiere. Reblog if this excites you.
Derek refuses to go to prom with Stiles. He knows it’s for Stiles’ own good, but it doesn’t help with the feeling that he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. And he made a lot of them.
Stiles gets home around two thirty, tosses his bowtie on the desk as he flicks the side light on. The low, golden light illuminates a dark presence sitting at the wall under the window and he yells in shock.
“Derek! What the hell?”
“Did you have a good time?” Derek’s tone is casual, but Stiles can see where his fingers are knotted tightly together around his knees.
“Uh, yeah, was ok, you know, Prom like.”
“Meet anyone special?”
Stiles hesitates, cocks an eyebrow at him. “And if I did, you wouldn’t care anyway, right? Because you said yourself you can’t do whatever this—” he gestures between them, “—Is. So, what does it matter?”
“It doesn’t,” Derek stands, shoves his hands in his pockets. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
“Home safe? Or, home at all?” Stiles steps in his path as Derek heads for the door, waits for Derek to meet his eye. “Derek.”
“What do you want from me, Stiles?” Derek huffs. “You clearly had a good time without me, anyway. What’s the problem?”
“The problem?” Stiles feels his eyes widen incredulously. “The problem is that I wanted to go with you, dickbag. I got all dressed up, I left a fucking corsage on your porch and you show up here and say I can’t do this, Stiles?! Where the fuck do you get off being pissed at me? It was just Prom, Derek, it’s not like I was asking for forever.”
“That’s what you don’t get,” Derek snaps. “For you going to Prom is for the night, for me, I want more than that. I don’t just want to be seen as some older guy you scored to drag to Prom. I want to fucking be with you because you want me; not some trophy.”
Stiles blinks at him in surprise. “Derek,” he says softly, reaches out and curls a hand round Derek’s wrist, feels relief when Derek doesn’t pull away. “Derek, asking you was a big deal to me. I didn’t want to take you to show you off, I wanted to go to one of the biggest events of my high school career with you because we made it. We fucking survived it all, together. And, and I wanted to make you dance and look all pissed at me, but I’d know you were secretly enjoying it. I’ve seen you swaying to Bonnie Raitt when you think no one’s watching. I wanted to sit at a table covered in confetti and think, fuck man, I’m so glad we’re here, and maybe even hold your damn hand.”
“You didn’t say any of that before,” Derek says stiltedly.
“I was sort of trying not to die of embarrassment, dude. You could have said no. You did say no in the end,” he adds in a dumb, small voice, ducks his head so that Derek won’t see how hurt he is.
Derek tips his chin up, looking at him very seriously. “I’m sorry.”
Stiles swallows, looks back at him for a long time. Derek saying sorry for anything is a big fucking deal. It sort of makes his heart pitter patter. “Just, tell me next time,” he breathes out. “We could have— shit, I had a whole song planned for you and everything.”
“I heard it,” Derek says quietly.
“You,” Stiles pulls back from where Derek’s got a hand curved around his jaw. “You came to Prom?”
“Yeah, I was— I didn’t want to ruin your night completely. I was gonna…” Derek trails off, his face flushing.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to dance.”
“Oh, man, we missed out,” Stiles feels his stomach clench. “Because you saw me with that girl? Dude, she’s just a girl I know through Danny and band— she uh, she sings.”
“You get jealous?” Stiles feels himself grin at the flush on Derek’s cheeks. “Aww, you wanna serenade me, Derek?”
Derek scowls. “Stiles, do you wanna dance?”
“Well, that’s definitely the angriest anyone has ever looked when asking me that question.”
“Fine, ugh, yes, of course, idiot.”
He trails a shaky hand up Derek’s shoulder, feels Derek’s fingers wrap around his hips.
Derek pulls away like he’s been burned and Stiles rolls his eyes, reaches up to kiss his cheek because he can. “No, dumbass, we need music.”
He flicks through itunes for a second, sticks You and Me on and turns to smile at Derek. Cautiously, Derek smiles back. They stand like idiots looking at each other across his bedroom for a moment before he lurches forward.
“You only ever have to ask, you know,” he says quietly as he winds his arms round Derek’s neck.
“I will,” Derek promises. Stiles smiles again and Derek kisses him as the song plays on.