Work Header

I Wish That I Could See You Soon

Work Text:

“Raven here, coming to you from Toronto, I’m with Derek and Laura Hale from lo-fi indie pop duo Girls and the Dogs. Now the first thing I want to know, and you probably get asked this all the time, but what is it like being in a band with your sibling?”

Derek nodded his head in agreement about the frequency of that question but Laura elbowed him, grinning at Raven, “Keeps us out of trouble. Derek plays most of the instruments when we record but we play live with a band, so luckily I have people to hang out with after shows when we’re on tour.”

Raven laughed, “Derek doesn’t stick around?”

“Derek prefers to hide in the bus, write songs and feel feelings. Little known fact, Derek actually invented the entire concept of being emo-- ”

Derek smirked at Laura, shaking his head, “Meanwhile Laura likes to— ”

“I dare you,” Laura said with a twisted smile, Derek grinned back, putting his hands in front of him in resignation.




The venue was closing, most of the stragglers had already left and those that hadn’t were being ushered out by the bouncers. Laura had taken off to a party already with Erica, their tour manager, and the boys from the local London band that had played support for them that evening. Derek had already forgotten the name of the band; he knew it started with Thee, and that they perhaps had something to do with Pete Doherty. Apparently he’d been in the audience, but the Roundhouse was a big place, it wasn’t that easy to spot people from stage.

“Seven more weeks,” Boyd sighed as he dismantled his drum kit.

“I’m going to sleep for a month when I get home to LA,” Derek said with a grin, moving his guitar into its case.

“I don’t think I’ve ever worked with a musician who hates touring as much as you do.”

“I don’t hate it. It’s just, fourth album fatigue, gets a little old.”

Matt climbed up on stage waggling his eyebrows at Boyd, “Those girls at the bar invited us back to their place in Hackney.”

“You mean, they asked about Derek and you offered me up as the straight second choice?” Boyd didn’t look up at Matt, or the girls at the bar.

“Uh huh. Whatever dude, don’t knock a gift horse, and it’s not far from here. We’ll just get the driver to pick us up on the way through to wherever the hell we’re headed next,” he put his hand on Derek’s shoulder, “where we playing tomorrow D?”

“Glasgow,” Derek pulled out his phone from his back pocket, looking at the time, “We’re leaving in four hours.”

Matt peered behind his shoulder, and then back at the guys with a satisfied smirk, “Should be plenty of time.”

Boyd laughed, shaking his head, “So tacky man.”

Derek smirked in agreement before handing Matt the guitar case. “I need you to help Deaton get this stuff in the bus before you go catch new STDs.”

Matt grinned, and swaggered past Derek out through the side door to the bus. Boyd shrugged his shoulders before following Matt out, arms loaded with the heavy case of the bass drum. Derek had just handed one of the guitar amps to Deaton, and was snapping the lid of Laura’s guitar case together when he heard an unfamiliar laugh close behind him.

“I can’t believe you have to do all this yourself,” the guy said, he was American too, but Derek was tired and not really in the mood to make new friends.

“Who else is gonna do it?” he answered with a roll of his eyes that the guy didn’t see because Derek still had his back towards him.


Derek laughed loudly, “How much money do you think we make?” he stood up and turned to face the guy, handing him the guitar case. If Derek had a type this guy was probably a literal embodiment of it with his big eyes, tight t-shirt, messy hair and lips that were clearly made to do one thing only. But Derek didn’t have a type, not on tour anyway, he’d given up being the gay Ricky Nelson with a boy in every port around the same time he’d stopped his rapid descent into becoming the next Shane McGowan.

The guy looked down at the guitar case Derek had just placed in his hand, and then shrugged. Derek picked up two of the smaller drum cases and headed toward the side door, the guy following him without question to the bus.

Derek wasn’t surprised to see that Matt and Boyd had conveniently disappeared leaving him and Deaton to finish loading the bus alone. Deaton was loading the last of the cymbals as Derek loaded in the drum cases. “I’ve got it from here, just Matt’s amp left and some cables,” Deaton said, heading back inside the venue.

Derek nodded then headed toward the bus, Deaton probably thought he was doing a solid for Derek, leaving him alone with the cute guy. But Derek was more interested in the extra sleep he would get having the bus to himself for the next four hours than the guy, no matter how hot he was. When he got to the bus door he turned, giving the guy a polite smile, “Thanks for your help.”

“Can I come in?” The guy asked, his voice soft and wavering. He didn’t seem so confident anymore, and even less so when Derek didn’t answer straight away.

“As much as I want to say yes, I don’t do that.”

The guy looked a little confused before his eyes widened, “I’m straight”

It was Derek’s turn to be confused, because, huh? “Then why would you want to come into the tour bus?”

The guy shrugged, “I’m sorry. It was stupid. I’ve just really liked your band for a long time, and I was really excited when I saw that we were in London at the same time… that I’d finally get to see you play.”

Derek felt like an asshole, and against all better reason he sighed deeply then gestured for the guy to follow him in, “You got a name?”

The guy looked at him almost, surprised that he’d asked, “Stiles.”

“Well Stiles, welcome to the crappiest European tour bus that money can buy. Note to your left our impressive VHS entertainment system.”

Stiles laughed, “You mean you can watch Dumb and Dumber while you ride? Is this the future?”

Derek nodded, “We’re living the dream.” Derek opened the small fridge, taking out a bottle of water for himself and offering a beer to Stiles, “You’re old enough to drink right?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, leaning forward and taking the beer from Derek’s hand, “I’m twenty one, I just look twelve. Plus, I think the drinking age is nine in England anyway.”


“Approximately,” he grinned around the head of the bottle, taking a long drink. “It’s worse in Australia, they start drinking in pre-school… You’re not drinking?”

Derek shrugged, “I don’t drink.”

“Interesting,” he nodded, his gaze heavy on Derek. There was a long silence and Derek was sure Stiles was about to ask him the usual questions about why he didn't drink but instead he said, “Did you ever want to do anything else? Other than music?”

Derek sat down on the couch, watching with a little too much interest as Stiles stretched out across from him, “Sure. I mean I do other things already. I’m working on my PhD. I actually teach a level 200 class on Chaucer and Romance, that’s why we only tour during summer.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped open, “You teach a class? Don’t your students just freak out over you constantly making it impossible to ever get any work done?”

Derek laughed, “I’d say maybe one student in every class knows who I am, but they tend to not give a shit. People don’t care about our band.”

“You’re on the same label Nirvana were on!”

“Before they signed with a major. But, I kinda like it this way. I know Laura would probably sign with a bigger label if the offer were made, but I think that would be when I bowed out.”

“Because that would be selling out?” he asked, his tone changing from excited to something a little harder.

Derek scrunched up his nose, “I don’t believe that anyone truly sells out. It’s such a pretentious concept. No, I mean, I have a hard enough time with these short tours, I could never be a yearlong tour kind of guy. All the people I know who are signed to big labels don’t ever seem to stop. It’s just tour, tour, tour, press, press, press, produce, produce… I’m too lazy. I just like writing songs.”

Stiles smile was back on his face, “I was in a band in high school. We used to do a cover of one of your songs.”

“Really?” Derek’s face lit up, “What were you guys called?”

“The Dandy Lions,” Stiles laughed, his head hitting the back of the couch. He pulled his iPhone from his pocket before he passed it over to Derek, showing him the YouTube video of The Dandy Lions doing a cover of their first single, Teen Wolf. It was a live video, but it looked like someone had recorded it onto their phone in a garage. There were a couple of girls playing behind him, but the camera didn’t seem to leave the face of the very young looking, short haired Stiles singing.

“Wow, you’ve got a great voice,” Derek said surprised that he sang as well as Laura. Stiles blushed but didn’t comment. When young Stiles sung the line, ‘Baby let me turn you, let me give you the bite. I know you’ll love it if you just give it a try.’ Derek laughed, “You do know this entire song is about gay sex right?”

Stiles’ mouth dropped and his eyes widened like saucers, “Oh my god. Seriously?” Derek nodded, then Stiles laughed, “actually that explains a lot. Pretty much the only people who followed us were the older kids from the LGBT club.”

Derek smiled, “It probably didn’t help that you were called The Dandy Lions either.”

“We thought it was an amusing name,” he smiled.

“Oh, it is, for sure. So what happened to you guys? I mean, a voice like that, seems a shame to keep it for anecdotal stories.”

“We uhh, grew up, grew apart I guess. I still sing,” he said distractedly before finishing his beer, “you mind if I grab another?”

Stiles stood but Derek put his hand on Stiles’ arm stilling him, then stood to get him another beer, “Did you come alone? I mean nobody is expecting you?”

Stiles laughed, “You sound like you’re planning on murdering me. My phone has GPS. They’ll totally find the body,” then he looked down at his beer, pulling the label off a little, “I know it’s super lame to come to a show alone. But my friends aren’t really into the same music.”

“It’s not lame. It’s actually pretty cool. Just, uhhh, I don’t meet many people that come alone. Honestly the only people who seem to come up to talk to me after shows are groups of girls. Sometimes the occasional guy, but it’s not often because they like our music.”

“You mean they just want to fuck you?” Stiles said, his voice steady, with almost a hint of amusement, eyes glued to Derek’s.

Derek gulped, “Something like that.”

“But you don’t.” He looked away from Derek, and down at his bottle again, ripping away the last shreds of the label.

“No,” his voice lacking the conviction it usually held when talking about the subject. “So, uhh, where in the US are you from?”

Stiles blushed, “I’m actually from the same town as you, Beacon Hills. I don’t live there anymore though.”

“Beacon Hills?” Derek’s eyes widened, then he laughed, “ Well, that explains why you think our band is more successful than we actually are. It’s my parent’s fault they run the Gazette; I swear anytime Laura or I breathe they write an article about it. It’s kinda embarrassing. Apparently we’re off the hook now though and the town officially doesn’t care about us now that there is an actual famous person from Beacon Hills.”

“Oh?” Stiles asked, voice a little higher.

“Yeah Harry Styles? I think he’s in that boy band One Direction.”

Stiles rubbed his hand through his hair, with a nervous laugh, “One Direction are from England.”

“They are?” Derek was confused, he pulled out his phone to look up the right name but Stiles grabbed his hand softly to stop him.

“It doesn’t matter. I’d rather talk about you.”

Derek looked down at the hand still touching his, then up at Stiles who was looking at him with an intensity that had few other interpretations, “Talk? You sure that’s what you want to do?”

Stiles looked down at their hands, but instead of taking his hand from Derek’s he glided his thumb along the top of Derek’s hand until it touched his palm. It was barely a touch, but Derek felt his mouth moisten, the way it did when he wanted to kiss. Stiles looked back up at Derek, his thumb now moving in the tiniest circles, but Derek felt every movement, the palm of his hand suddenly sensitive like he was a fourteen year old on a first date. “I don’t want to talk,” Stiles voice wavered as he whispered.

There was nothing about this that was a good idea. But Derek couldn’t seem to convince himself to think reasonably because Stiles was looking at him through those long eyelashes and Derek just, wanted. He could barely remember the last time he wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss Stiles in that moment. Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ hand and stood, “Do you want this?”

Stiles looked shocked at the development but quickly caught up, and nodded as he stood, letting himself be walked to the back of the bus where the bunks were. Derek leaned into Stiles, right in front of his bunk, his mouth hovered close to Stiles without touching, giving the younger man a chance to walk away. Stiles made a quiet squeak at the back of his throat, before he surged forward, gripping the collar of Derek’s shirt and closing the short gap between their lips. Stiles’ kiss was messy and eager, kissing Derek like he was trying to climb inside of him through his mouth.

Derek pulled away before cupping Stiles’ chin, kissing Stiles’ bottom lip before licking along his top lip and slowly slipping his tongue back into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles sighed into the kiss, relaxing into it, his tongue meeting Derek’s, more like a caress now than the frantic fight for dominance of moments earlier. Derek smiled into the kiss as Stiles loosened his grip on Derek’s shirt, moving one arm around Derek’s back and the other behind his head, pulling him in closer to Stiles’ body.

Derek could feel Stiles’ dick harden against his hip, but Stiles quickly arched his hips away from Derek, like he was embarrassed. Derek shook his head and brought his hands tightly around Stiles’ ass pulling him flush against Derek, letting Stiles feel exactly how hard he was making Derek as well.

“Oh my god,” Stiles whispered, pulling back from Derek resting his head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

‘“Yeah, I— ” he took a deep breath like he was trying to steady himself, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

 “Do you want me to stop?”

Stiles shook his head before he pulled it away from Derek’s neck, looking back into his eyes, “Which one is yours?”

“You sure?” Derek asked, and when Stiles thrust his dick against him, he pulled him down to the lower bunk behind where they were standing. Stiles toppled in on top of Derek, before pulling the curtain shut, closing them in. Derek pulled Stiles closer toward him, capturing his lips, their kisses moving quickly from explorative to desperate. Stiles sat back on his knees and pulled his t-shirt off in the tight confines of the bunk, surprising Derek with defined abs and a firm chest, something his tight t-shirt had only hinted at, but instead of being proud of his physique he seemed bashful, maybe nervous. Derek was suddenly worried he was taking things to far, “Have you done this before?”

Stiles bit his lip, “It depends what you mean by this and before.”

“Have you ever been with another guy before Stiles?” Derek asked but Stiles just shook his head, like he was embarrassed. “Have you thought about it?”

“All the time.”

“Jesus,” Derek sighed, pulling Stiles back down to meet his mouth. Stiles’ long fingers made clumsy work of his shirt buttons, pulling back a little to take Derek’s shirt off him.

“Fuck off,” Stiles said, stopping, his mouth gaping open at Derek’s chest. Derek frowned up at him, looking down at his chest to see what Stiles had found so objectionable then back up at him. Stiles ran his splayed hand along Derek’s chest, still looking confused as hell. “You’re in an indie band.”

“I know.”

“Why do you look like this?” Stiles asked, almost accusingly, but before Derek answered he shook his head, “You’re so fucking hot. This isn’t… this isn’t fair to anyone.”

Stiles’ mouth attached to his nipple, sucking teasingly before moving down his chest. It felt like Stiles was licking every muscle on Derek’s stomach, but fuck if it didn’t feel good. When Stiles got to Derek’s jeans he looked up at Derek with question before popping the top buttons open and helping Derek out of his pants. Derek heard Stiles whisper something to himself but he couldn’t make out the words before Stiles’ mouth was licking its way down Derek’s shaft. At first he licked around his length timidly, before Stiles took Derek’s dick in his hand, stroking it up into his mouth, while his tongue made work on the head. Derek wanted to believe that Stiles was the blushing virgin he’d thought him to be only minutes earlier, but the way his mouth moved up and down Derek’s cock, although tentative, felt practiced, experienced.

Derek hadn’t fucked anyone since last spring when he and Aiden had broken up, and the feel of Stiles’ mouth on his dick was bringing him too close, too quickly. When Stiles palmed Derek’s balls in his hand before sinking his entire mouth down on his cock Derek was done, his fingers grabbing Stiles’ hair roughly as he warned, “I’m gonna come.”

Stiles didn’t move his mouth away with the warning though, instead he moved his hand back to the base of Derek’s dick and stroked quickly while sucking the head of his dick with the pressure of a hoover. Derek pulled on Stiles’ hair as it hit, his come shooting down the back of Stiles’ mouth and as he came he felt Stiles swallowing around him. Stiles moved back up his body as Derek melted back into the bed, kissing him with the taste of his come on Stiles’ tongue.

Derek popped open the buttons of Stiles’ tight jeans and pulled out his dick, his mouth not leaving Stiles’ as he stroked his hand up and down Stiles’ leaking cock. Derek started to believe again that Stiles really was new at this when after about thirty seconds of Derek touching his dick he threw his head back, his body tensing before Derek felt the hot spurts of Stiles’ come hit his hand and his stomach. Stiles dropped flush against Derek as he rode out his orgasm, the kisses going from frantic to slow and lazy.

Stiles started laughing when they finally pulled apart, “I just… Oh my god. That was awesome.”

Derek tilted his head to the side on his pillow, studying Stiles for a moment, “You really haven’t done that before? Because, as much as I believe you, I kinda don’t.”

“I was okay?”

“It’s almost not really possible suck dick that well for a first time.”

“Really?” Stiles beamed, and Derek believed him. Stiles suddenly looked sheepish, “I’ve never done it. I’ve had a lot of… I guess I just— ”

Derek was embarrassed at the way his stomach dropped when Stiles admitted to being on the receiving end of blowjobs. It was ridiculous, he was leaving for Glasgow soon, and Stiles was just some guy he’d know for a few hours. He wasn’t allowed to feel possessive. Except that he did. He felt really fucking possessive. “From girls?”

Stiles shook his head, “No, I uhh. I haven’t ever. I’ve just seen lots of gay porn.”

“Yet you claim to be straight?” Derek smiled.

Stiles ducked his head, “I’m not straight. I don’t know why I said that. I mean I do know why I said it. But it's not true.”

Derek stroked his hand along Stiles’ face, “Being gay isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

Stiles laughed, “Tell that to my manager.”

“Seriously? You can’t hide who you are because of a job. Where do you work? There are other jobs. No job is worth pretending to be someone else.”

Stiles smiled, looking for the first time since they’d met, older than Derek instead of younger, “If only that were true.”

Derek pulled Stiles back in for a kiss, sad for this boy he’d only just met, and for himself knowing he would have to ask Stiles to leave soon. He was lost in their kisses when Stiles’ phone started ringing. At first Stiles’ ignored it but by the third set of rings he sighed then reached into his back pocket to retrieve it. “What?” Stiles answered rudely.

Derek leaned back on his elbow watching Stiles roll his eyes at whoever was on the other end of the phone. Derek couldn’t hear the words, but the voice sounded feminine. “I can figure out how to get a fucking cab back to the hotel okay?” Stiles growled out down the phone, before sighing loudly, “sorry Kate, look, I won’t miss our flight.”

Stiles threw his phone next to him, before scrubbing the back of his head. Derek frowned, “Everything okay?”

Stiles leaned down, kissing Derek slowly, before pulling back with a sad smile, “Apparently I’m flying out to Norway in two hours. I guess I got a little caught up,” he said with an embarrassed smile.

“You sound like Matt, he never knows where the hell he’s supposed to be,” he smiled, before it occurred to him, “how is it possible that you didn’t know you we’re going to Norway in two hours?”

Stiles smiled softly, “I don’t think you’d like me as much if you knew more about me.” He pulled his t-shirt back on over his head before buttoning up his jeans, leaning forward and giving Derek an unmistakable goodbye kiss.

Stiles had the curtain open and both feet out of the bunk before Derek grabbed his shoulder, “Wait,” Derek said, Stiles turned to him confused, “can I have your number?”

Stiles’ brow furrowed, “Really?”

Derek shrugged, “You don't have to, I just— ”

“No! I do. Like a lot. But…” he looked at Derek with a curious expression, “you’ll use it?”

Derek nodded before digging his phone out of his pocket, snapping a photo of Stiles before handing his phone over to him to enter his number. Stiles grinned before doing the same. Stiles was halfway down the aisle of the bus before he came back, leaning over the bunk and placing one last kiss on Derek’s lips before turning to walk away.




It was 3am before Derek finally stumbled back into the comfort of his bunk, but instead of passing out in his clothes from pure exhaustion like he so often did, he stared at his phone; feeling for the fiftieth time in the past two days, like a fourteen year old with a crush. He hadn’t told Laura about Stiles, the only person who possibly knew was Deaton but he was way too professional to even wink suggestively to Derek about what may have happened with the cute guy in the tight t-shirt in London. He wasn’t embarrassed, but Laura had the tendency to either tease too much or to talk sense into him; and Derek wanted neither of these things. He didn’t want his sensible older sister telling him not to moon over the cute boy who was clearly struggling with his sexuality and that he knew nothing about.

Not to mention Laura’s number one rule, don’t mistake a fan’s admiration for actual feelings for you, because once they get over the novelty of being with the person who wrote their favorite song— well, they’re left with the real you and that almost always ends in disappointment. Derek had vowed never to ignore Laura’s advice after the spectacular meltdown of his relationship with Aiden last year.

Derek had waited until he was truly alone for the first time since they’d arrived in Glasgow, before spending the next forty five minutes composing a text message, that after twelve different versions and edits had just become: Greetings and Salutations from scenic Glasgow.

Derek immediately regretted the message as soon as he’d sent it, but exhaustion was taking over and six hours later he woke to his phone vibrating from a new text in his hand. His eyes were bleary, the rest of the band would be sleeping until midday he imagined, but when he saw the message was from Stiles he rubbed his eyes, pulling his phone closer to his face to read the message.

I’m sitting in the hotel room alone and there’s hip lobby music blasting outside. It’s annoying so now I’m engaging in a music battle with the hotel.

Derek grinned at the long response he’d gotten from Stiles, cursed himself for the fact that he wasn’t cool enough to wait a day to write him back, then quickly responded with: I hope you’re winning.

It’s 9:45am and I’m blasting Boy in the Bubble. Hell yes I’m winning.

Derek knew there was no way he was going back to sleep now, especially when, less than a minute later his phone vibrated again, the message read: Hotel management has kindly asked me to turn my music down. Crying in shower now.

"Derek up and at 'em, we've got a radio interview in an hour," Laura called out, rattling the curtains of his bunk.




How is gay paree?

I’m glad to report my miniature hotel room is very cozy. Back to bus tonight. Mixed feelings.




The next morning he woke in the bus, phone in hand, a half written text to Stiles was waiting to be sent: Yawn. I think I sleep now. Actually have a full day here before we leave for Belgium. Crazy.

He erased the sleep now comments before he hit send. It was only eight in the morning, but ten minutes later there was a response from Stiles: :D If you happen to end up going back in time and chillin with Hemingway and F. Scott can you figure out a way to instagram that shit. Also, cats smoke in Paris, photographic proof would be amazing.

“Derek,” Laura groaned, sounding half asleep, from the bunk across the aisle from him, “it’s too early. Stop giggling.”

“I’m not,” he called out, biting back a smile still as he returned Stiles' text.

“Both of you need to shut up,” Boyd said from the bunk above his, voice not sleepy, just irritated.

Derek heard Laura’s curtain open, before she laughed, “So sassy Boyd. Wanna come down here and say that to my face?”

Derek popped his head out from his curtain as well, shaking his head at Laura, “You’re not allowed to sexually harass Boyd, at least harass Matt. We can replace him.”

“Fuck you Derek,” Matt called out from his bunk, then poked his head out as well and winked at Laura, “but I’m totally down to be sexually harassed by Laura.”

Boyd jumped down from his bunk, and climbed right in with Laura, shutting the curtain behind him. Erica was up now as well, and walked past Derek, rubbing his hair, “You totally started this,” she laughed before walking to the front of the bus, everyone else quickly following not wanting to risk hearing anything disturbing coming from Laura’s bunk.




“This next song is dedicated to my brother who has been acting like a super freak for the past two weeks, I think he’s in love,” Laura said through the mic.

There were probably close to a thousand people in the audience, so Derek wasn’t impressed with Laura, he leaned down into his mic and said with a grin, “It’s true, the food here in Brussels is amazing. I might never be able to leave, is that okay if I stay here?”

The audience started cheering, Laura poked her tongue out at him before waving her finger at Boyd to count her in.





There were two texts from Stiles when Derek woke the next morning in Antwerpen.

 Ferry from Sweden to Denmark. Very choppy. Crazy Vibes. The second read: I want to not puke on this ferry.

Derek smiled before writing back, Okay, England, Norway, Iceland, Sweden, Denmark. You’re covering more ground than we are. Are you a secret agent? Please advise.

 A few minutes later Stiles sent a picture of himself wearing a suit looking like he was straight out of a 007 promo, with the message: You tell me.

I can’t even remember the question. You’re too hot. I think you melted my phone. Derek couldn’t pull his eyes away from the photo. Ten minutes later Stiles still hadn’t messaged him back and he realized that despite the fact he and Stiles had hooked up in London, and had been messaging thirty times a day since then, it was always casual. Never personal, never sexual, and Derek had just crossed the line. Perhaps it wasn’t a line Stiles wanted to cross.

Derek started reading back through their texts from the past two weeks, trying to see if he missed any obvious hints that Stiles wasn’t interested in him like that. He re-read the one from a day earlier, where Stiles had said, I can’t believe you live two blocks from me in Santa Monica! It’s destiny baby :P

When he’d read it at the time, he’d officially let himself embrace his crush. Second and third reading Stiles still seemed flirtatious. Seventh reading, he’d decided Stiles was just joking. He was about to swing his legs out of the bunk, embarrassed about how easily this kid had turned him into a self-doubting paranoid teenager, when his phone vibrated with a new message: I actually can’t stop thinking about you.

I know the feeling. Derek typed, hitting send before he had the chance to chicken out.




“Cologne is great,” Laura smiled at their interviewer, “we love playing here.”

Andrea, the interviewer laughed, “One day a band will come through and tell me they hate this place. I think I will die from the honesty.”

Derek grinned, “Nah, we’re legit. I don’t know if I’ll be blacklisted for saying this but I feel like, in an effort to make up for the past, Germany has somehow become the coolest country ever.”

“Just don’t ever say that in front of my mother.” Andrea smiled awkwardly, “So, I’m sure everyone has seen the pictures online of hottie Stiles from Love Notes at your show in London last month and we all want to know, is he a friend of the band? Did you guys know him growing up in Beacon Hills?”

Derek frowned, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” He turned to Laura, “Is that that guy Harry Styles?”

Laura shrugged but Andrea laughed, “Harry Styles is from One Direction. Stiles Stilinski is in Love Notes, who are pretty much the American One Direction. You’re really not familiar with them?”

Laura’s eyes bugged out before Derek had a chance to respond, “Stilinski!” then she turned to Derek trying to speak through her laughter, “the Sheriff’s kid is in a boy band! Amazing. He was at our show?”

Andrea nodded her head eagerly, her face suddenly perked up at Laura’s admission, “So you do know Stiles?”

Derek gulped, staying silent. This wasn't a coincidence. He knew, as well as he knew anything, that if he was to Google Stiles from Love Notes exactly whose face he would see.

Laura smiled sweetly at the interviewer, “If it’s the guy I’m thinking of, he used to tear our parent’s office apart. They run the local paper in our hometown. I worked there for three summers in high school and I’d literally hide every time the sheriff brought in his kid. He was about five or six, but we were all terrified of him. He got into everything, my parents used to call him hurricane Stilinski.”

Derek frowned, not remembering any of this, but then he was five years younger than Laura so their lack of memory overlap was a pretty common issue. The interviewer was laughing, “That absolutely sounds like Stiles. He’s the high energy one in the group. They call him the joker, but he gags every time they call him that.”

Laura smirks, “Yeeee aah, Beacon Hills represent. I’m glad if anyone was gonna make it out of our town and get famous it was someone who at least has the decency to be embarrassed when called a stupid name by their management.”

Andrea laughed then looked a little embarrassed when her cameraperson pointed at her giving her a time signal, “I’m going to go crawl into a cave now and hide for about a thousand years after fangirling over a boy band in front of Girls and the Dogs. I’m Andrea for MTV Germany, see you next time!”




 As usual the rest of the crew and band had gone out partying after their show in Cologne, except for Laura, Erica and Boyd who were all crowded around Derek in a small booth in a late night cafe. Laura had admitted to Derek a day earlier that she and Boyd had been casually seeing each other for six months but had kept it secret because they hadn’t been sure they were serious. Apparently they were serious now, and had gone from zero to sixty in terms of displays of affection. Erica slammed her head down on the table dramatically when Laura giggled and melted into Boyd after he’d complimented her performance that evening.

“Why is everyone in love except for me?” she whined.

Laura and Boyd ignored her, they were completely immersed in each other, whispering into each other’s ears and sighing. Derek laughed, “I’m pretty sure these two are the only couple we actually know.”

She lifted her head and raised an eyebrow, “Don’t even try and pretend like you’re not swooning over some boy. You’ve been acting weird all month and I’ve never seen you spend so much time on your phone.”

Derek blushed, “There is a guy. But. I don’t know. I don’t think he likes me.”

“That’s not even possible. It’s the main reason I hate you. You’re completely adorable. Even straight guys want to marry you and have your gay babies.”

“I think he lied to me about who he was. Or at least lied by omission and failed to tell me something kinda major.”

“This is the same guy who has texts you so much that you now have to keep your phone on silent because we will kill you if we hear your phone beep again?” Derek nodded, “He likes you. But maybe he has a reason for not telling you who he was? Remember how I lied to my boyfriend in high school for two years about how old I was. He thought I was seventeen when I was really only sixteen. It was a stupid lie, but I got stuck in it and it went on for so long that I didn’t really know how to take it back. Maybe this guy told you a lie because he wanted you to think he was more impressive than he is.”

Derek laughed, his head hitting the back of the booth, “No. Fuck. Erica, okay, do you swear to keep this to yourself?” Erica nodded genuinely. Derek pulled out his phone and opened the photo Stiles had sent him where he looked like a secret agent. He passed it to Erica, who had more than a passing interest in pop music. “Who is this?”

She frowned, probably confused about why Derek was showing her the photo, “Stiles from Love Notes. He came up to the merch booth before the show in London, said he was a huge fan. I convinced him he should go tell you himself.” Erica handed the phone back to Derek, realization coming over in her face, “This is the guy?”

Derek nodded, putting his phone away. “He kinda failed to mention the fact that he was a stupidly famous pop star.”

“Have you ever heard their music?” She asked, Derek shook his head, “They’re pretty much the opposite of what you guys sound like. Maybe he was embarrassed? I mean, he’s kinda got the whole Robert Pattinson I-hate-my-fame thing going on.”

“The what now?”

“Like, he’s always making jokes about their songs being written by software only available on Windows 95. Or, that the entire band was chosen for their cheekbone to pectoral ratio, and says that none of them can actually sing. Magazines always call him the joker, but he’s totally not joking. That’s why it’s funny. I mean, he clearly kinda hates the whole boy band vibe.”

Derek looked skeptical but Erica grabbed his hand and pulled him up, leaning across the table to Laura and Boyd who were just eating each other’s faces at that point. “We’re heading back to the bus.”




 Erica and Derek were the only ones on the bus, so they spread out on the table with Derek’s laptop in front of them. The first video Erica pulled up on YouTube showed the Love Note guys busking on Venice Beach, trying and failing to get people to notice them.

“Okay so the tall one, that’s Isaac. He’s the shy one, we’re going to get married one day. Shut up, it’s my destiny.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I can read your mind, it’s the same difference. Now the buff one in the wife-beater,” she said pointing at the screen, “that’s Danny. He’s the mysterious intellectual one. Then there’s Jackson, Mr. Handsome, he just pouts a lot and looks like he is thinking about sucking fat dicks all the time. You know Stiles, but the other guy hanging off of him is Scott, they have the bromance to end all bromances. They’re the lead singers, and they usually get into the most trouble with reporters for saying stupid things. Scott is the puppy. Every girl wants to marry him, and he’s the most popular with mothers. Stiles is just a snarky bitch. If I wasn’t already marrying Isaac I’d probably have a thing for him.”

“Wow,” Derek nodded, with a deep breath, “you know a lot about them.”

Erica laughed, “Oh my god. You really know nothing about fandom do you? I just gave you the most cursory description of them possible. I fear for the day when you meet an actual fan. Dude, I think I have like, one of their songs on a Spotify playlist, max.”

“Yet you want to marry the shy one?”

“He’ll appreciate my different taste in music, and I’ll appreciate how good he looks in my bed.”

On screen Stiles was running away from a bodybuilder along the boulevard after kissing the bodybuilder’s hot girlfriend. Scott catches up to him, running away from an angry surfer, until they were all five running along Venice Boulevard from angry boyfriends, laughing.

“I love how the beefcake chasing after the pretty boy looks like he’d rather fuck him than fight him,” Derek mused.

Erica grinned, “Oh yeah, you can tell they totes rolled around in the sand together after they wrapped filming the video,” then she sighed, “I can’t believe you hooked up with Stiles. Oh my god, does he have a big dick?”

Derek raised his eyebrows at Erica, “Seriously?”

“Fine,” Erica pouted, “you’re no fun though. I hope you know that.”

Derek grinned, as he started clapping, and shaking his right shoulder, as he sang, “No fun, my babe, no fun. No fun to hang around…”

Erica grinned, “It's like Iggy Pop wrote the song with you in mind--”

Derek’s phone vibrated in his pocket, causing him to completely switch off from whatever Erica was saying when he saw Stiles had texted him: Just got back to my hotel room. Guess who I just saw on MTV Germany? I think we need to talk? I’m sorry if I made things weird. Scott says I’m an idiot.

Erica had stopped talking and was looking at Derek with concern. She peered over his shoulder, reading the message he’d just reread fifteen times. “Call him.”

“But it’s… past midnight!”

Erica nodded faking concern, “I really hope his parents don’t pick up then.”




Derek hid himself in his bunk, his finger hovering over Stiles’ number for at least two minutes before it touched the screen, hurtling him past the point of no return as the sound of ringing filled the small cramped bunk. Stiles answered breathily on the fourth ring.

“Is this a bad— ” Derek started just as Stiles said, “I wanted to call but—”

They both laughed awkwardly but Derek let Stiles finish, “I didn’t really think this through Derek,” he said and Derek felt his stomach drop right out from underneath him.


“No!” Stiles said a little too high, “Fuck. I mean. I had this stupid idea in my head that you’d fall for me so hard that when I finally said, ‘hey so I’m kinda in this boy band’ you’d like me so much that you wouldn’t care. I figured if you’d gone this long without knowing who I was… Ugh. I’m such an idiot. I don’t even know how to not fuck up— ”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted, “you wanted me to fall for you hard?”

Stiles groaned down the phone, “I’m so embarrassed. I shouldn’t be allowed to talk.”

“I like when you talk.”

“You do?”

Derek smiled into the phone, and moved his pillow until it was finally sitting right underneath his shoulders, “I like you a lot Stiles. But, honestly? Not so into the lying.”

“I didn’t— ” he started then sighed, “yeah okay. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“You miss the part when I said I liked you? I’m just confused by all of this. Were you worried I’d tell people about-- ”

“No!” Stiles interrupted, “I just wanted you to like me, and not think I was a stupid teenybopper. Which I’m not, but dude, for every group of giggling teenage girls there’s a group of snarling twenty-somethings… I didn’t want you to dismiss me in the same way— ”

 “I wouldn’t have— ”

“Do you know how many people laughed at me when I came to your show? One guy in a cardigan snared at me and said, ‘gonna have to try a bit harder than show up at a Girls and the Dogs show to score indie cred.’”

Derek laughed, “What a douche bag. Probably one of those guys who makes fun of people for only having discovered the Ramones in college, like everyone is supposed to have been born with an awesome record collection.”

Stiles was silent for a moment, before he gulped loudly, “I… I just wish that I could see you again soon.”

"Where are you now?"

“We just got into Hamburg a few hours ago, we're here for another day before we fly out to Austria.”

"We're driving up to Hamburg day after tomorrow," Derek said feeling a knot of disappointment in his stomach that they were missing each other by a matter of hours.

"I may have compared our tour dates… right now, on Google... We're both going to be in Madrid on the same day in a month."

“Do you want to meet up?” Derek asked tentatively.

“Yes!” Stiles said sounding unsure of himself all of a sudden, “Wait, do you not want to?”

Derek smiled into the phone, “Heads will roll if I don't get to see you in Madrid.”

"You kinda like me, huh”

"Kinda," Derek grinned, "maybe a lot."




Derek got a text from Stiles on the way to Hamburg. Have managed to switch my flight so we have a possible 3-hour crossover in Hamburg as long as your bus doesn't break down on the way. You want to see my face?

Derek wrote back, Fuck yes. Where shall I meet you?

"I'm hungry and I will die if you don't stop in Essen and buy me so many pastries that I no longer fit my skinny jeans," Erica whined.

"Ugh," Laura turned up her nose, "please don't talk about food. Just the thought of pastries makes me wanna--"

Laura ran to the back of the bus and they all heard her throw up for the second time that morning. Erica shook her head, "Girl needs to stop drinking so much."

Boyd narrowed his eyes at Erica before shutting the curtain that divided the bunks from the front and walking to the back of the bus where the toilet was. "You okay baby?" Derek heard him say to Laura.

Derek turned to Erica, and pleaded, "I have a very short and unexpected window of opportunity to see Stiles in Hamburg. Please, I will buy you all the pastries in the world when we get to Hamburg, but I need us to not stop."

Erica pouted, "Fine. I'll eat a banana," she grabbed a bunch from the table, ripping the peel of a large one open with a dramatic sigh, "the things I do for gay love."

Derek's phone rang, and when he saw the blurry photo of Stiles pop up on his screen he left Erica with her bunch of bananas and climbed into his bunk before answering.

“I’m staying at the Grand Elysee, room 204,” Derek heard the rustling of paper down the end of the phone before Stiles continued, “Do you want to maybe meet me at my room? We can go from here?”

“Go?” Derek grinned down the phone, “where we going?”

“I don’t even care. I just want to be near you,” Stiles said so earnestly, twisting the knot in the bottom of Derek’s stomach that had appeared the moment Stiles said he'd changed his flight.

“So if I wanted to stay in with you?”

Derek heard Stiles gulp down the phone before he finally answered, “Will you let me kiss you again?”

“Among other things.”

“Fuck,” Stiles hissed down the phone, causing Derek’s dick to harden at the sound, but he wasn't going to jerk off with his sister barfing up her stomach lining only a few feet away.

"I'll see you in a few hours."




Derek was waiting for Erica to come out of the shower of their small hotel room in Hamburg so he could wash away the eau de homeless aroma before he saw Stiles. After two weeks straight on the bus they were finally in a hotel again, and Derek didn’t care if it smelt like stale cigarettes or that he had to share a room with Erica, because there was a gym downstairs and a real shower. After food, and a bed, Derek didn’t need much more in this life.

For some reason Laura was napping on Derek’s bed even though she had her own room with Boyd. “Stop staring at me,” she snapped at Derek, even though her head was facing away and he was pretty sure her eyes were closed.

“You and Boyd still fighting?”

“So much worse than that.”


Laura didn’t elaborate, just sighed heavily, and pulled a pillow on top of her head. Erica came out of the bathroom a moment later, shaking her head, “Seriously, one day I will get my period and it won’t freak me out. I swear every single time I’m like ‘Oh my god! I’m bleeding. Am I dying? What is this witchcraft?’”

“At least you got your period,” Laura moaned into her pillow.

“Why would you want your-- ” Laura didn’t answer, but Erica’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth dropping, “No fucking way.”

Derek looked between his sister moping on the bed, and Erica standing wrapped in a towel looking shocked, wondering what he had missed. Erica moved over to the bed and put her arm around Laura, who still had the pillow over her face. Laura started laughing, and Erica started stroking her hand down Laura’s back, taking the pillow off of Laura’s face. Laura turned to Erica and Derek saw her face was red, tears streaming down it.

“You’re not laughing,” he said, then felt like an idiot when Erica gave him a dirty look, “Oh god. You’re pregnant?”

Laura’s body shook harder with the tears, so Derek moved on to the bed and pulled his sister into his arms. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing Derek.”

“It’s okay,” he said, kissing her hair and stroking his hand down her back like Erica had been doing, “you’ll figure it out.”

“What am I supposed to tell Boyd?”

“Do you want to keep it?” Erica asked.

Laura shrugged, before tearing up again, “Yes. I didn’t know that I wanted this. But I do. Boyd though. Jesus, we only just moved out of friends with benefits to officially dating. We can’t have a baby together. That’s fucking crazy. Not to mention that he’s four years younger than me— ”

“He’s twenty six, he can handle it,” Erica said.

“But— ” Laura started.

“Erica’s right, you should at least give him a chance to fuck this up.”

“Thanks for the confidence dick,” Laura laughed, blowing her nose into Derek’s t-shirt.

“Talk to him. He was a mess on the bus earlier after you hid in your bunk, he thinks you’re going to break up with him.”

Laura sighed, and then sat up, wiping the tears off her face on her sleeve, “Will you be here?”

Derek’s stomach dropped, thinking about Stiles who was waiting for him at his hotel across town, “Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Laura smiled, pulling him into a hug, “I love you.”

When Laura had left the room Erica shook her head, and smiled at Derek, “You’re a really good brother.”

“I wish I was a terrible brother,” he sighed.

“No you don’t. Honestly, I don’t think Stiles is going anywhere, one cancelled date isn’t going to be the end of your great romance.”




Disappointed, but knowing you gave up a piece of this hot ass to comfort your sister pathetically just makes me like you even more. Hope she is okay :)




Derek spent the next few hours waiting for Laura to come back making the most of the free wi-fi and watching every single interview and music video Stiles had ever appeared in. Erica had made fun of him for being obsessed for almost an hour before cuddling up next to him and sighing about how handsome Isaac was for the next two hours.

 Watching Stiles dancing around like sex on a stick, while sitting so close to Erica was making Derek feel weird, even more so when she grabbed his crotch, "Oh my god, you totally have a boner!"

He swatted her hand away, "Boundaries."

"Oh now we have boundaries?" she laughed.

"My dick, is forever out of bounds."

Erica wiggled her eyebrows, "Except for that one time you tried to fuck me when you were drunk."

He laughed, "Which is why you're my best friend, you've seen me at my worst."

"Drunk Derek was kind of sexy and aggressive though."

"I hope you're joking."

"Don't worry, sober Derek is way cooler. It wasn't actually that awesome being arrested in Sydney because of your Keith Moon levels of destructiveness to that stage."

"We weren't arrested. Just banned from ever playing at the Hopetoun again."

"I think it closed down a year later. It probably wasn't because of your man rage. Oh my god," she started laughing as she opened the next video. It was just of Stiles dancing, it looked like a video a fan had made, "Infatuation With Your Gyration! This is perfect."

Someone had taken the Magnetic Fields song, and had edited together two minutes and thirteen seconds of Stiles gyrating in various videos and live performances. Derek had lost his erection the second Erica grabbed it, but watching the video that was literally nothing but Stiles' tight ass and skinny hips moving around in various body hugging outfits had him running for another shower the second the video was over. Erica cackled at him knowingly but after five years of friendship he didn't actually care that she knew what he was planning on doing in the bathroom.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom the laptop was closed and Laura was back, spread out on Derek's bed again, Erica painting her nails on the floor below the bed.

“I told Boyd,” Laura said in that ‘I’m not telling you everything’ voice she had. Derek stared at her expectantly, before pulling a t-shirt on over his head. “He took it well.”

Derek smiled the first genuine smile that didn’t betray the truth about how horrible he felt about missing out on his date with Stiles. “I’m really glad,” he picked up his jeans, slipping them on under his towel before he threw the towel into the bathroom, “he’s easily twice my size, it wasn’t going to end well if I had to take him down.”

Laura laughed, then closed her eyes tightly and blurted out, “Boyd told me he was in love with me, and that he’d told his mom two years ago when he started playing for us that he was going to marry me one day. And well— ” she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, “Boyd asked me to marry him. And I said yes.”

Derek’s eyes widened, his shock giving way to joy as he held open his arms to Laura, who was halfway across the room to Derek already. She was pure nervous energy converted to human form as she bounced in his arms. “Congratulations, that’s… shit Laura, that’s awesome. I’m stupidly happy for you.”

“What the fuck, right? I am not the girl who gets pregnant and engaged. Yet, here I am. Crying and giggling over how happy I am.”

“You guys are going to have the most beautiful baby ever, I legit feel sorry for all the other babies that are born the same time as the Boyd Hale masterpiece child,” Erica said with a smile.

“Do you have any idea how far along you are?” Derek asked when he finally let go of Laura and took a seat on the corner of Erica’s bed. 

Laura shook her head, “Maybe six weeks? Whatever the stage is where everything smells bad and food is the devil. I thought pregnancy was supposed to make you hungry?”

"Awww baby," Erica scrunched up her face, "what can we do?"

Laura shrugged, "I'll see a doctor in the city tomorrow, but there’s only a month left on this tour, we've dealt with worse. Just like, no eating or drinking coffee around me, ever again. Or I will barf on you and your food."




It was past two AM but like Derek had every night since their first phone conversation he called Stiles as he climbed into his bunk, hoping it wasn't going to be one of those nights that they missed their conversations, he never seemed to sleep well on those nights.

It wasn’t like their conversations lasted for hours or were particularly deep. Most of the time they didn't even talk about anything at all, Stiles would tell him about a cannibal pigeon he'd seen earlier in the day, and Derek would respond with a story about a group of tourists mistaking him for a local in Austria apparently because of his overgrown beard.

They were so comfortable talking that sometimes Derek forgot that they really didn't know much about each other at all, or at least nothing that anyone with an internet connection couldn't find out.

Stiles didn't answer until about the fifth ring, which was about four rings longer than it usually took, "Ugh, my god, Scott thinks he’s funny and personalized my ringtone for you. I didn't know my phone was ringing."

Derek laughed, "What did he change it to?"

"Oh, can we pretend I didn't just tell you that he did that so I don't have to explain?"

"No way," Derek grinned, resting his arm behind his head against his pillow.

"It's just this stupid song from the 80s by Animotion," Stiles cringed.

Derek laughed loudly down the phone, "Obsession."

"How did you…?"

"Because that's pretty much the only song they have. You know that was Michael Des Barres, right?"

"Like, former husband of I'm With the Band Pamela Des Barres?"

"Uh huh. I met him once at this rock n roll film festival he MC’d for. I was introduced to him by the festival director but he completely blanked me, took Erica's hand in his and told her how he could tell she was destined for greatness in Hollywood, that he had a sense for these things and could always tell when someone was going to make it big."


"It was pretty funny, she just looked at him like he was crazy, took her hand back and said, 'I'm not an actress.' That was about two minutes before she offended Kim Fowley by not recognizing him."

"I would like it to be noted that I totally know who Kim Fowley is, and expect to be rewarded with indie cred for my cool guy knowledge."

"I'll buy you an ice cream in Madrid."

"Only an ice cream?" Stiles whined.

“I was watching your music videos,” Derek tried to say casually, attempting to move the conversation back to something safer, but the tone of his voice sounded more like he’d just told Stiles he wanted to suck his cock, he coughed trying to level out his voice, “that Dinosaur Park video, was actually, one of the best music videos I’ve seen in a really long time. That's the park in South Dakota right?”

“Yeah, Rapid City. But, uhh, you like it really?” Stiles’ voice raised an octave, “that video in particular?”

“Yeah, I was kind of jealous that we’d never thought of that. Although, I don't think Laura and I could pull off the same Monkees vibe you guys have got going for you. I've always wanted to do a video around those old roadside attractions though, never actually made it happen.”

“I directed that video,” Stiles said shyly, “just that one. I kinda had to promise our manager my first born in exchange because she doesn’t trust me not to ruin our image. I’m stupidly happy that you liked it.”

"I can't believe you'd promise our first born," Derek grinned down the phone, “Really though, you are not allowed to be this talented. I’m not sure if I can keep up with you.”

“But you want to? Keep up with me?”

“You think I tell guys all the time that I can’t stop thinking about them?”

“Well, technically, I said that to you first and you just implied you felt the same way. I had to get like, five opinions on your response to me before I decided you meant it about me, not just in a ‘I totes relate to those feels man, with other people though.’”

Derek laughed, “You consulted?”

“I’ve been in this band since I was sixteen. I’ve never dated anyone, I don’t even know what I’m— ” Stiles made a painful noise, “Fuck. I’m such a dork, not that I think we’re dating. Jesus Stiles, could you be any lamer? Seriously—” 

Stiles was so cute it made Derek’s stomach hurt, “You’ve never dated anyone? What about the red head in all those photos?”

Stiles laughed, “You really have been googling me, huh? The red head is Lydia, my cousin. I’m always working. I just… No, fuck,” he cringed, “I’m giving you the rote press answer. I’ve known for as long as I can remember that I was gay. But I can’t be openly gay and be in the band without bringing on a shit storm that I just haven’t wanted to deal with. So I just haven’t… It was never worth it.”

“Stiles, you know that I’m very openly gay right?”

“Yeah. I remember when you came out. I still have the clipping of the Out magazine you were in in a box at home,” Derek heard Stiles take a deep breath, “I came out to my parents when I was fourteen because of you, and it was the most important thing I ever did.”

“You… really?”

“My mom had cancer. I’d been struggling with whether to tell her about myself for the longest time. I was torn between my worry about making things worse for her, and needing her to know the truth about me. It was such a short article, but I remember you said, ‘This is who I am, and if you don’t like it, don’t fucking buy our record.’”

Derek cringed, “I was such a pretentious douche bag when I was nineteen.”

“No. It was cool. You were so comfortable with who you were, and I loved your music so much already. It made me feel like it was okay. I was visiting my mom at the hospital one day, taking her a stack of magazines and I slipped in the Out magazine, to test the waters.

A few hours later I looked up from my book and she was laughing, reading Out, said ‘Good for you Derek.’ Then she held the magazine up to me, told me she was your second grade teacher, how you were probably the most precious child she ever taught.”

“Your mom? No, my second grade teacher was Ms. Martin.”

“That’s my… was my mom. She was a feminist, didn’t believe in taking my Dad’s name.”

“Ms. Martin was your mom?” Derek’s eyes filled with tears, “I adored her. More than that, I practically worshiped her for years. She’s the one who encouraged my Dad to let me take piano lessons. She’s — ”

“She died six years ago,” Stiles said softly.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I told my mom two weeks before she died that I was gay. She didn’t freak out. Instead, she smiled and told me that I was her angel. My mom knew me because of you.”

Derek blinked away the tears that were burning in his eyes, “I’m trying to be manly and composed right now. Stiles, I used to bake your mom cookies and draw pictures of her riding on unicorns— ”

“Oh my god, she kept one of those pictures, was that you? I have one with her as a princess with long flowing red hair, holding two swords riding on a purple unicorn through the clouds, and it says, Princess Ms. Martin saves the day again!”

Derek wiped the tears off his face, as he laughed, “That was me. I guess I just had it in my head that she was a princess. I don’t… I was a weird kid.”

“She obviously thought you were special. It was pinned on the corkboard in her office for years. After she died, I kept it and later had it framed. I guess I liked the idea of her riding around in the clouds, keeping an eye on me,” Stiles said dreamily as Derek tried to steady his breathing so he wasn’t crying down the phone. “I’m sorry, this must be the most depressing conversation you’ve ever had. I don’t get to talk about my mom often. None of the guys in the band knew her, and my dad still cries whenever her name comes up.”

“You can talk about her to me whenever you like. I’m not sure I can promise not to cry though,” he said with a smile, his breath under control finally.

“You’re unreal.”

Derek laughed just as Matt opened his curtain, and shouted drunkenly while snapping a picture on his iPhone, “Busted!” Then he looked down at Derek and shook his head, “You’re on the phone at two AM and you’re not jerking off. There is actually something wrong with you.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, holding his phone to his chest, “Says the guy who is constantly trying to catch me jerking off— ”

Matt laughed, “Your cock haunts my dreams, I just need to see it— ”

Derek shut his curtain, lifting the phone back to his ear and said loud enough for Matt to hear, “Sorry, that was our very replaceable bass player.”

“You wound me!” Matt called out, before Derek heard him stumble down the end of the aisle.

Stiles laughed down the phone, “Dude, I understand. At least you’re classy enough not to jerk off in the tour bus. Scott actually got a photo of me a few months ago.”

“He…” Derek couldn’t finish the question because the thought of Stiles jerking off and what the picture might look like had actually stupefied him.

"Oh fuck," Stiles groaned down the phone, "the car is here to take us to the airport. I have to go."


Derek could hear loud rustling down the other end of the phone, and the sound of a suitcase rolling across the floor, "They appreciate my jokes in Krakow."

"You know you're going to have to give me the whole story about the photo of you."

Stiles laughed, before Derek heard Stiles shout down the phone to someone else, "Jackson are you stoned?" His voice come back down the phone to Derek, "I promise."

"Photographic evidence would also help."

Stiles laughed even harder down the phone, "Fresh!"

Derek was grinning like a madman down the phone, "Give me something for these long lonely nights baby."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Stiles said with laughter in his voice.

Derek heard one of the guys in the background on Stiles' end groan loudly before he heard another say something like, "Phone sex… your boy… Stiles… Barf."

"Okay, I had actually better go for reals this time."

Derek fell asleep with his phone in his hand, trying to remember what it felt like not to have butterflies dancing around his stomach on a constant basis.




Over the next week their schedules clashed so badly they couldn't even find the time to talk on the phone. Their texts were irregular, sent at odd times of the day and night, but had escalated from random observations about Reykjavik and French new wave films to Stiles texting him ridiculous Love Notes lyrics for an hour straight one night.


Baby what I wouldn't do to be the boy you come home to.

Derek wrote back: The best part about this video is how you're basically home invaders, but because you're hot guys the girl’s mom doesn’t call the cops.

Your body just so smoking and what I wouldn't do to get to po- (naughty suggestion implied by Jackson with this line.)

Derek: Aren't you guys most popular with under 10s? Hope Jackson is only poking legal adults.

Let's do bad things tonight. Tomorrow we'll pretend we're good in the morning light.

Derek: Yes. Apart from pretending we didn't tomorrow.

Don't wanna buy you girl, like Justin does, just wanna try you on, like forever.

Derek: Justin Bieber? Is this why I read you guys were feuding with him?

I think about you everyday, all day long. I think I even dream about you.

Derek had listened to all the Love Notes albums to the point of distraction, just to pick out the sound of Stiles' voice when he had a solo. The last line though wasn't one of theirs. Derek felt his heart clench as he wrote back to Stiles, I dream about you too.

 Derek's phone rang a minute later.

"We're not really feuding with Justin Bieber. We don't even know him."

Derek laughed, "Here I thought I was going to get a good story. Speaking of stories… why does Scott have a naked photo of you and I don't?"

“Because he's the worst best friend ever. Although, to be fair I kinda started it when I sent a text from his girlfriend’s phone asking him to put on her underwear. He totally fell for it, Allison freaked when she got back to the hotel room and found him waiting in her Elle McPherson Intimates.”

“Does he still have the photo of you?”

“Kate, our manager, had a conniption over it.” Stiles laughed, “She brought in Columbia’s lawyer who reminded us all of the morality clause in our contracts that forbid us from engaging in activity that is deleterious to the band’s reputation. Or as Scott calls it, the no-monkey-bidness clause.”

“Morality clause? Jesus. Is that why you can’t come out?”

“No. I mean Kate has made it very clear that it would damage our image should I ever come out. My dad got his lawyer involved once they realized I was gay and made me sign a revised morality contract, they wanted to make me agree to stay in the closet as long as the band were together. But Dad’s lawyer rules and they were made to agree that I was free to come out. Although we couldn't fight them on the revision that stated I would be out of the band if I was caught engaging in immoral behavior, which they defined as sex before marriage.”

“What?” Derek shook his head, “are you fucking serious?”

“It’s not just me, the other guys aren’t even supposed to have girlfriends, we’re all supposed to be theoretically available, which means no girlfriends, or boyfriends, for anyone in the band.”

“So none of you date?”

“Oh no, everyone does, except for me. The record company doesn’t care if Isaac fucks a thousand girls backstage, but if a guy so much as approaches me after a show I get a call reminding me of my morality clause. Scott’s the only one who is openly dating, and even then he and Ally have had to keep their engagement secret.”

“You know the minute you’re seen in public with me people will start asking questions about you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear anything past, seen in public with you.”

“I’m serious Stiles.”

“Derek the second I put my mouth on your dick I was in breach of my contract. I don’t care. I’ve never been okay with the morality clause.”

“It’s hard… difficult to have a serious conversation with you when you say things like that.”

“You saying maybe you’re not too classy to jerk off in your bunk?”

“I’m not too classy at all,” Derek breathed out, his hand snaking it’s way into his pants.

"Derek," Erica called out from the front of the bus, "what do you feel like eating? We're stopping in the next town."

"Fuck," Derek hissed out, before he started laughing, "I'm an actual teenager when I get on the phone with you. I have to go, I guess we're eating."

"You're gonna be in Prague right?"

Derek sighed, "And you're gonna fly right over my head back to the UK."

"What hotel are you staying at in Prague? Just so I can wave from the sky?"




Derek always made use of the gym anytime they were in a hotel, and the one in their hotel in Prague was one of the better gyms. He’d been running on the treadmill in the empty gym for about half an hour, when someone climbed on the treadmill next to him. When he turned to look at the person he was met with big brown eyes, and the shit-eating grin of Stiles, who looked completely ridiculous on the treadmill in his dress shirt, waistcoat and slacks.

“Oh hey, you work out here too?” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows, his eyes lingering on Derek’s sweaty body.

“Stiles.” Derek smiled, slowing his pace down to walking speed.

Stiles was still jogging, despite the fact he was wearing leather dress shoes, “I’m not stalking you. Just super casually working out at my favorite hotel gym in Prague.”

Derek stepped down off the treadmill, wiping his forehead and the back of his neck with his towel, winking at Stiles as he walked over to the free weights in front of the mirror. Derek hadn’t even picked up the weights before Stiles was cornering him into the wall, fisting his hands in Derek’s singlet before leaning in all the way, crashing their lips together.

Derek smiled into the kiss, his tongue exploring Stiles’ mouth, his heart seizing at the contented sigh Stiles made when Derek wrapped both his arms around Stiles’ neck pulling Derek’s body flush against him.

Derek’s sweat was seeping through to Stiles’ shirt, but Stiles didn’t seem to care, after weeks of frustration and longing they weren’t going to stop kissing for anything so trivial. Derek didn’t want to stop kissing Stiles ever, but the sound of the gym door opening threw them apart faster than they’d come together. It was a man in his fifties who looked completely oblivious to what he had just walked in on. He smiled and nodded to the guys, “Tach!”

Stiles frowned, but Derek grinned back at the man, and said, “Moin!” before dragging Stiles out into the hallway. Stiles still looked concerned until Derek laughed, “He was just saying hi.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I didn’t read that in my Czech phrasebook.”

"He was German," Derek wrapped his hand around Stiles’ long fingers, “and I’m pretty sure you’re adorable.”

“Stop trying to distract me from my meltdown,” Stiles pouted, but his body was leaning into Derek’s.

“No more kissing in hotel gyms then?”

Stiles laughed, not looking so worried anymore, “I can’t promise that I will ever be able to keep my hands to myself when you look like that.”

  Derek smiled shyly before he nodded his head toward the elevator, and started walking, “I’m glad you found me,” when Stiles didn’t follow he turned and frowned, “you’re not coming?”

Stiles shook his head, a sad expression clouding his features, “I’ve got a town-car waiting outside, I uhh, kinda drove five hours just so I could make out with you but now I have to catch my flight. Graham Norton waits for no pop star.”

Derek felt Stiles’ words like a punch in the gut; he pulled Stiles in tightly, and hugged him close. He breathed in the faint aroma of the sporty cologne Stiles was wearing, and wondered when next he would get to smell it. “I don’t want to let you go,” he whispered in Stiles’ ear.

Stiles pulled Derek in for a quick kiss, barely a touch of lips, but it was enough for Derek’s stomach to drop to his feet and cause his heart to wrench as he watched Stiles head down the hallway out towards the main entrance of the hotel.




Laura was sitting on Derek’s bed, braiding Erica’s hair when he came back from the gym, she gave him the once over before laughing. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me that you were dating the Sheriff’s son. You ass.”

Derek looked towards Erica who just shrugged her shoulders. “He came here earlier looking for you. Did he find you?”

Derek breathed deeply before opening his bag to find a clean change of clothes, “He did.”

She grinned, then as casually as if she was asking if they wanted a soda Laura said, “How would you guys feel about being guests of honor at a romantic vegas wedding before I start showing?”

“Oh my god!” Erica squealed, “Seriously? That is so fucking nuts. I love it. Count me in. Derek, you could bring your boy band hottie.”

Derek’s shock about Laura’s imminent wedding announcement was quickly replaced by thoughts of Stiles in a white suit at a wedding, standing next to him, holding his hand. Laura started laughing and turned to Erica cooing, “He’s totally dreaming about how good his boyfriend looks in a suit.”

Erica laughed before affecting a deep voice, “Stiles, your sweet dance moves make me so horny.”

Derek threw a pillow at Erica who caught it, before laughing even more at Derek’s expense. Laura put on a similar voice and joined in, “Stiles, I’m so strong and muscular, but I really want to be dominated by your lithe young body. Do me Bambi.”

Derek’s face scrunched up, “One, I don’t talk like that. Two, Laura, boundaries?”

Laura just laughed and kept going, “Stiles, sometimes I cry myself to sleep thinking about your eyelashes and the way they dance across your face like the ballerinas of your soul.”

“Nice suit Stiles, bet it’d look even better around your ankles while you fuck me in the ass,” Erica said and was met with a high five from Laura.

“Why are you obsessed with bottoming?” He stood throwing his hands in the air, and when they both opened their mouths to respond he shook his head, “You know what, I’m not having this conversation with my sister and my best friend.”

“Stiles, you’re the only one who understands how badly I need a fat cock in my— ”

“Okay, see you vile creatures later,” he said with the roll of his eyes as he left his room.

He ended up in a cafe with Matt and Deaton talking with a bunch of girls who said they were huge fans of the band. Matt had managed to charm his way into getting an invitation back to the girls’ flat, but Derek was about to head back to the hotel to try to catch Stiles on Graham Norton when he got a text from Erica: Stiles, I miss you so much that when I come, tears shoot out of my dick.

He rolled his eyes and instead of writing her back he looked up at the girls and asked, “Have you got a TV?”




Matt was making out with the blonde girl on the smaller couch, Deaton and the fourth roommate had already gone upstairs to her bedroom, leaving Derek and the two other girls pushed up against each other on the slightly bigger couch in front of the TV.

“This next group have been driving young girls wild all over the United States and now they are spreading their plague of sexiness all over Europe, please welcome Love Notes!” Graham Norton said on the TV from his seat, before standing to greet the five guys as they walked out on to stage.

Derek’s throat went dry at the sight of Stiles, wearing the exact same outfit he’d had on earlier in the day; the outfit that Derek had definitely sweated on, and for what Derek liked to believe were potentially romantic reasons he hadn't changed. Stiles looked good, really fucking good.

The girl who was sitting next to Derek on the couch that he'd nicknamed Glasses in his head laughed, “What a motley crew of guests.”

“I’ve got this,” Graham Norton said on screen, as the guys sat down on the couch across from him pointing at the guy at the end of the couch, “Danny, you’re the smart one. Jackson, you’re the underwear model. Isaac, you’re the one all the girls want to marry because of this photo.”

He pulled out a picture of Isaac shirtless, with black frame glasses, and a pen in his mouth, reading Camus. All the guys laughed, Emma Stone who was sitting closest to Graham gave him a lecherous look, leaning over to Graham and asking, “Do you mind if I borrow that photo? For uhh, research or something.” He passed it to her and she nodded smugly to the camera, slipping the picture down beside her on the couch.

Graham continued, pointing at Stiles, “You’re Stiles. I'm told that you're the goofy one. It actually says on my card here, 'can't get a girlfriend'. What a load of nonsense! Are we all looking at the same person here? With the cheekbones and the aerodynamic hair. Who is doing your PR? Is anyone actually believing this?"

Stiles laughed, "Well, technically it is true. I can't get a girlfriend."

Helena Bonham-Carter was sitting next to Stiles on the couch grinned, "My son wants to be Stiles when he grows up."

Stiles looked at her seemingly confused by the fact that Helena Bonham-Carter knew who he was let alone from the fact she was even speaking to him. Scott put his arm around Stiles, "Stiles is the sexy one in the band but we make him pretend he's not so he doesn't show the rest of us up."

"And you're Scott, the lovable one. You do look quite cuddly. Is he as cuddly as he looks?" Graham asked Stiles.

Stiles grinned and put his head on Scott's shoulder, "Scott’s like a very muscular teddy bear. Or a cuddly action figure at least."

"Oh yes. Look at you Stiles, trying to steal my job, leading me into my next question before I even get a chance to segue," he pulled a box out from behind him, full of dolls, "how does it feel having your own action figurines?"

"I'm pretty sure they used Pocahontas for the head mold of my doll," Danny said. Graham pulled out Danny's doll from the box, and started laughing.

Emma Stone's mouth dropped open, "Oh my god. I used to have a Pocahontas doll. This is her face. What the hell?"

"It gets better," Danny laughed, "Scott is actually Aladdin, but with almost translucently white skin."

"But, they made, uhh, what's his name. Kocoum. I had a Kocoum doll. Why did they give you a girl head?" Emma frowned, before laughing even harder when Graham passed her the doll that was supposed to be Scott. "Wow. Good work America. Why is Scott's doll whiter than me?"

The guy in between Emma and Helena finally spoke up, Derek didn't recognize him but he had a strong Irish accent, "I find the best solution for dealing with America is to completely avoid the continent completely." 

Derek turned to the girl with the glasses, "Who's the curmudgeon?"

"Dylan Moran. He's a total drunk or at least plays one on TV, either way, this is gonna be good." She laughed.

Back on screen Dylan is leaning over pointing at the band, "So which of you is the gay one?"

"Oh my god Dylan you can't ask that!" Emma cried. Graham looked amused, and Helena even more so.

"What? It's boy band law. Must wear tight clothing. Must have a gay member. I think there used to be a law about having earrings but I believe not only is that no longer a law but earrings are now outlawed in boy bands," Dylan said with much flailing of his arms.

The guys were all smiling, like it was one big joke, but Derek's stomach was twisting nervously. It was Isaac that finally spoke, stretching his long legs in front of himself casually, and throwing his arms to rest behind his head, "Actually we're all gay."

The rest of the guys didn't miss a beat before they were all grinning and nodding their heads, snuggling into each other. Scott leaned over and kissed Isaac on the lips, before throwing his arm around Stiles who grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Dylan. Even the stiff looking one Jackson laced his fingers between Danny's, before kissing his hand.

Emma Stone was clapping, laughing and saying, "I love these guys."

"Why is no one kissing the sexy one?" Dylan said as if outraged, and Helena nodded in agreement.

Scott leaned forward to kiss Stiles, but Stiles put his hand up to block his lips, then turned to Graham to explain, "I'm taken."

Scott turned to the camera and grinned, "Don't kill me Derek," before swatting Stiles' hand away and planting a huge kiss on Stiles' lips. Helena could be seen beside them mouthing the name Derek with a curious look on her face before Stiles wiped his face in disgust.

"Ugh," Stiles turned to Graham, "could England please outlaw pickled onions before we come back next time? Scott mainlines them whenever we're here."

"I'll start a letter writing campaign. Well, if the boys are ready to make their way to the stage they are going to perform their latest single, All My Little Words."


Sitting next to Derek in the living room, Glasses started laughing before she said, "I now have total respect for that band."

"I think they are a bullshit pop band who think it's funny to make a joke out of homosexuality." The other girl on the couch that Derek was calling in his head Orange Lipstick spat out. The guys took their position on stage and Derek was torn between defending Stiles and wanting to watch him perform live. He looked really good in his dress pants.

Glasses threaded her fingers through Orange Lipstick's, "Baby, they could have gone the other way, denied being gay, made it seem like a bad thing. I don't know. I think it was pretty cool, whether any of them are gay or not."

"I have no gaydar for men," Orange Lipstick said. "Maybe you're right. Did you see the way the underwear model and the smart one were eyefucking on the couch? They must be keeping each other warm at night. And then Scott seemed pretty serious about having a boyfriend called Derek. That Stiles guy though, what a homophobe."

Derek was watching Stiles dance on screen, and thought about his hips gyrating like that, sans pants, but he tore his eyes from the screen when Orange Lipstick called Stiles a homophobe.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he said coldly.

Matt coughed loudly from across the room, and when Derek looked over Matt had stopped kissing the girl he was with and was staring at Derek with a worried expression. "Derek. Chill."

He wanted to defend Stiles. He wanted to tell these judgy lesbians that Stiles wasn't a homophobe, that he was taken by Derek. Was he taken? Was Derek his boyfriend? Derek's eyes darted around the room as he tried to figure out if Stiles was merely joking on air or if it was a truthful joke, as his homie Chaucer said, 'Ful ofte in game a sooth I have herd saye.'

Matt stood up and smiled politely at the girls, "Lovely meeting you all, I think my friend here has had a bit too much to drink. Such a booze hag," he said as he ushered Derek out the door, "Come say hi after the show tomorrow night!"

As they spilled on to the dark cobbled street Matt slapped Derek on the back of the head, "If you're going to date a closeted boy band star you can't almost out him every time you bear witness to bullshit vitriol."

"I'm an idiot," Derek cringed.

Matt shook his head and put his arm around Derek's shoulder, "No, I get it. You want to defend your boy. I'd want to do the same. But you just have to remember, that until he does come out, you need to chill. Fuck, even if he does come out you'll still be dating a super famous guy with a squeaky clean public image. No angry Derek, okay?"

"We're not even dating. I don't think. I mean. I don't know. We've only hung out once in person, twice if you count our ten minute encounter today."

Matt laughed, "My parents met when they were both stuck at O'Hare for six hours together over Thanksgiving break during a snow storm. They literally got engaged the next day and married two weeks later. They've been married thirty five years dude, I guess sometimes you just know if someone is right for you."

"I can't believe the sluttiest guy I know is secretly a romantic," Derek said as he hailed a taxi.

"Hey, I have hidden depths okay?"

Derek laughed, "Really hidden."

Matt kicked his ass as Derek bent down to open the back door to the taxi, "Dick."





Derek was surprised when he woke the next morning to a text from Stiles that said: So I kinda came out on Graham Norton last night and then completely like ten minutes ago on twitter. Erica was still asleep so he pulled on his t-shirt and jeans and made his way to the park bench across the road from the hotel before he pulled out his phone and called Stiles.

"I saw the show," Derek said when Stiles answered, "you were beautiful. Amazing. But I didn't think anyone really took the group coming out seriously? What happened?"

"It was a joke, I mean at the time. I guess. But then after the show Kate just blew up at us. The guys tried defending me, but fuck, Derek there was like smoke coming out of her ears she was so angry. And then Jackson was so mad at her for being a bitch that he snapped a photo of her fuming and tweeted, 'homophobia blows'. It was crazy he got thousands of responses within minutes. By the time we got back to our hotel the clip of us coming out as a band was already on YouTube. Most people didn't take it seriously, but the general feedback was really positive, and I don't know. It just…"

"You didn't want to go backwards."

"Exactly. I mean, right now, we're all in trouble. Jackson's lawyers are talking to Kate's about the photo. Scott is being reprimanded for trying to out me by saying your name on TV. It just-- I woke up to the shit-storm I've always been afraid of. There were a bunch of tweets asking me if I was really taken, if I had a boyfriend, was I actually gay?" Derek heard him sigh deeply down the phone, "Fuck Derek. I just chose a random tweet and responded to it, I wrote, 'Yes, I'm really gay.' That was three hours ago and my phone hasn't stopped ringing. I've been ignoring it. I mean, until you just called me."

"Wow," Derek's heart was pounding out of his chest. He literally did not expect Stiles to come out, maybe ever, but certainly not so soon. "I actually have no words. Are you okay?"

Stiles blew out a loud breath, "I think so. I don't know. I feel kinda hyper right now. Like my skin is buzzing, and my stomach is flipping. I don't know what's going to happen. I mean, I know, theoretically that they can't do anything. It would look really bad if they fired me after such a public coming out. I'm just… I hope it won't destroy the band. The guys support me though; they think the record company is talking out of their ass. But only time will tell I suppose. Okay, so maybe I feel a little like I might puke. Oh my god. I just came out to the world. After five fucking years of living like an asexual monk, what did I just do? Shit."

"No, Stiles, this is good. I agree with the guys. I mean, when I first looked up your band one of the first things I found was pages and pages of fan fiction about you and Scott blowing each other on the tour bus. Clearly your fans seem to be cool with the boy love."

"Are you freaked out that Scott said your name on TV? I swear I didn't tell him you were my boyfriend."

"Are you freaked out that he did?"

"Uhhh, no? I… Fuck. What's the cool answer?"

"Do you want to be my boyfriend Stiles?" Derek bit back a smile.

"Only like, more than anything else in the entire world. I mean, uhh, I'm really chill, not crazy at all and I totally don't draw our names together in love hearts on our set list ever."

"Oh you don't? Oh, well never mind then. I was going to say that--"

"Shut up," Stiles interrupted, a smile coming over in his voice, "you're not even allowed to tease me. If you even knew how much I liked you you'd know that it was horribly cruel."

"I suppose I had better stop teasing and courier you my class pin so everyone knows you're my boyfriend."

"You have a class pin?" Stiles' voice perked up.

"I wish I did for the sole purpose of pinning you."

"I guess you'll have to pin me in another way."

Derek laughed, "I'm gonna stop you there before I end up jerking off in public and getting thrown into a Czech prison."

"I guess you'll just have to listen to me then."

Derek gulped, and darted his eyes around to check if any passersby had heard his declaration, but the few people on the street were going about their business without paying much attention to the American on his phone. "You wouldn't," he breathed out.

"Oh really?" Stiles said playfully, "So I suppose that's not my hand wrapped around my cock right now? Because I wouldn't do that would I? I wouldn't be sitting here alone in my hotel room, stroking my hand up and down my dick thinking about how hot you looked yesterday in that gym, covered in sweat, the muscles in your ass flexing as you ran on that machine. God, I think I watched you for about ten minutes before I let you know I was there. The things I want to do to that ass."

"Yeah?" Derek choked out moving his right leg to sit over his left so his erection was hidden from anyone that walked past him.

"I had to sneak into the airplane restroom the moment we were in the sky and jerk off. Thinking about licking the way down your back this time, tracing the hard muscles with my tongue, until I get to your ass. I want to do bad things to that ass," Stiles breathed heavily, and if Derek hadn't already known what Stiles was doing on the other end of the phone before he would now from the breathy pants and sound of skin slapping through the earpiece. "I want to lick your asshole until you're fucking screaming, but I also want to destroy your ass for being so perfect. I want to bite it and leave a mark. I want to mark you as mine."

  Derek made an embarrassing guttural sound that caused an older woman who was walking past him to give him a dirty look. "I want you to mark me," Derek whispered.

"Do you want my cock in you?" Stiles let out a needy groan.

"Uh huh," Derek responded, before whispering, "tell me what you're doing."

Stiles laughed, "Apart from completely humiliating myself down the phone to the guy that I lo-- to my boyfriend?"

"Stiles," Derek warned.

"I'm close Derek. I'm thinking about fucking you. About sliding my slicked up cock inside of you. I'm tightening my fist, fucking up into it, pretending that's what you might feel like. But," he moaned, before making a strangled noise, "I know you'll feel… Fuck. Derek I want to fuck you so fucking bad. I want to be inside you, to kiss you and fucking love you forever. It's all I think about. The taste of your come, I tasted it all night after I left. I loved the burn in the back of my throat from you. I get hard just thinking about the taste of your-- oh fuck. Derek. I'm gonna--"

"Come for me Stiles," he whispered down the phone, hoping the group of women jogging didn't hear him, or at least couldn't understand English.

"Oh god Derek. You're so hot," he moaned out, as the slapping sound stopped. He was silent for a little while before he started laughing down the phone. "I can't believe you just let me do that."

"It was really hot Stiles. Jesus, that mouth of yours, you could go into porn if the whole boy band thing doesn't work out for you."

Derek heard banging on the other end of the phone, and then Stiles say, "Shit."

"What's wrong?"

"The fucking president of the record company is standing on the other side of my hotel room right now. Holy shit. What do I do?"


"Snarky. Although you do make a point because I’m covered in jizz right now, and I imagine it's probably not an awesome look."

"I wish I could be there with you."

"We'll be together soon though, won't we?"

"Wild horses baby."

The banging on the other side of the phone got louder until Stiles groaned down the phone, "Wish me luck."




Derek spent the next two hours walking around Prague trying not to freak out about Stiles not having called him back yet. When he got back to his room the entire band were sitting on Erica's bed crowded around her laptop. "Derek!" She screamed, "Where have you been? Oh my god. You have to watch this."

Derek frowned and took a seat next to Deaton, who just patted him on the back awkwardly. It was a talking head video on YouTube of Scott that had been posted less than an hour ago but already had ten thousand hits. Erica put it back to the start and hit play.

"I understand that there are a lot of people very unhappy with me right now. Some of those who support Stiles have accused me of unfairly smoking him out by saying his boyfriend's name on the Graham Norton show last night. Whereas some of the vested interests in our band have informed me that I may face legal action for the financial losses Love Notes will sustain from the potential boycotts of our band by small-town America.

I'm certain that making this video is probably going to get me fired from the band, but you know what? I don't care. You watch your best friend die a little on the inside every day that he is forced to live a lie and then tell me I'm going too far… that I went too far last night. Stiles made the choice this morning to damn the torpedoes and officially acknowledge to the world something that those who love him have known for a long time and I have never been prouder to call someone a friend than I am right now.

I've been told that several stores back in the states have decided to stop selling our albums, which, honestly is the most disgusting thing I've heard in a long time. I truly believe that our fans will stick with us. But to quote my new personal hero, Derek Hale, 'If you don't like it, don't buy our fucking record.' Stiles will be kind if you trash him on the internet. He'll smile and nod and take your abuse because that's what he does. But I won't and neither will the rest of Love Notes. I think you will see very quickly how cuddly I'm not towards anyone that tries to hurt my friend.

In an additional note, I will be starting a kickstarter account later in the day to help pay for the legal fees I will surely have after posting this video. Which I am going to do in, three, two, one…"

"Oh my god," Derek breathed out.

"Peter called me from New York about it fifteen minutes ago, our website just got overloaded and when they tried to figure out why--- well… looks like your boyfriend just made you famous," Laura said with a half-smile, before tilting her head to study Derek's face, "how is he?"

Derek shook his head, "I haven't heard from him since, well it was a few hours after he said he sent out that tweet this morning. What are people saying? On twitter or… fuck this is just all so crazy. Nobody gave a fuck when I came out, I can't even imagine what Stiles is going through."

Boyd looked up from his phone at Derek, "Except for the random ignorant asshole, most people are really supportive of Stiles. The most popular tweet though is one that says, 'Does this mean Jackson and Danny will finally reveal their manlove to the world?' Then the hashtag says OTP, I think they mean O.P.P."

Deaton looked at Boyd skeptically, "Other people’s penis?"

Matt laughed and shook his head, "It's other people’s pussy man. I should know, cos I'm down with O.P.P."

Erica groaned and hit Matt over the head with a pillow, "You're all stupid."

"Do you think Scott will get in trouble with his label?" Boyd asked pulling Laura down into his arms so they were snuggling along the top of the bed.

Laura laughed, "So much trouble. But he's smart. They can't kick him or Stiles out of the band now, lest they seem homophobic. Plus, that band is already like a fucking empire. The merchandise alone, Columbia is just as trapped as the guys in the band. Those label people are evil though, I'm sure they'll figure out a way to punish him."




The Girls and the Dogs show had sold out before they'd even arrived in Prague, but for the first time in the six years Derek had been in this band there were reporters and photographers outside the venue when they’d arrived. He'd had a couple of texts from Stiles throughout the day letting him know that Stiles was okay, that he'd basically spent the entire day doing interviews and in meetings with his label.

An enthusiastic young man in wire framed glasses got to close to Derek, asking, "Derek, can you confirm the rumors that you are the same Derek who is dating Stiles from Love Notes?"

Derek frowned, realizing he had no idea how to respond to questions about Stiles. He'd never had a video camera in his face before and it was making his heart race. Boyd stepped in between Derek and the guy in glasses, and looked down at him, tilting his head to the side, "You got a ticket to our show tonight?" The guy shook his head, "then you're in the wrong place friend."

Boyd put his hand firmly on Derek's shoulder and guided him in through the doors to the club they were playing in. "Sorry," Derek winced awkwardly once they were inside.

Boyd laughed, "Anytime man, it's fun pretending to be tough after a day of talking about weddings and baby names with Laura."

"I'm pretty sure I used to be tough."

Matt clapped him on the back as he dropped his bass case to the floor, "I remember coming to one of your shows in Seattle when you were still Drunky McSourface, you were kinda terrifying."

"Seattle!" Erica cried out, "Was that the show when Derek threatened to rip a guys neck open with his teeth when he shouted out ‘fag’ from the audience."

Deaton shook his head, "Don't worry Derek, I did way worse in the early nineties when we all mistook Brett Easton Ellis' Less Than Zero as gospel. So much cocaine. So many braincells I'm never getting back."

After sound check Derek sent Stiles a text: Don't want to worry you but there were reporters at the venue before we arrived asking questions about us?

Stiles wrote back within a minute, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Just ignore them, or don't. IDEK! I'm hiding in the kitchen at BBC One and looking at photos of you online and sighing over how disgustingly hot you are.




Photographers were still following Derek two weeks later when they checked into their hotel in Bologna. He'd tried to just ignore them, although that seemed to have only fueled the speculation and confirm in their minds that he was Stiles' Derek. It wasn't that Derek was ashamed of it, but he didn't want to speak to these people, he had no interest in acknowledging them, so he didn't. He flicked on the TV when he got into his room, and wasn't surprised to see Stiles' face on MTV Italia.

It was a clip he hadn't seen yet, but that wasn't surprising as after the first week he'd tried to cut himself off from obsessively watching all of Stiles' interviews because it just made him feel like crap every time he saw Stiles awkwardly shift in front of an interviewer and know that he couldn't be there for him. It looked like an interview with MTV UK because the presenter had way too much foundation on and a strong northern British accent.

"How have your family reacted to the news?" she asked, her giant eyes blinking with what he supposed was supposed to be a look of concern.

"My Dad wanted me to come out years ago. I think my Mom would have been proud of me for doing it now while it's still important."

"Still important? Because most guys don't tend to come out until their careers are already over?"

Stiles nodded, "Pretty much."

"I must admit, there were a few tears shed in the MTV offices when you came out. I'm sure you noticed your BOP poster on the wall in our kitchen, right next to Harry Styles' one."

"I wasn't going to mention that," Stiles laughed.

"Half of the girls here want you to marry Harry Styles and the other half want to marry you themselves. Either way, Scott’s mention of the mysterious Derek killed our dreams."

"Me and Harry Styles? That's uhh, a new one," Stiles smiled politely before taking a long swig of the water bottle sitting on the table next to him.

The interviewer laughed, "So we're not talking about Derek?"

"I'm not not talking about him. But, honestly, I do wish people would stop asking simply because, despite the fact that I've been in love with Derek since I was thirteen, I only met him recently and we're very new. I don't want to scare him off."

The interviewers eyes bugged before she threw her head back with a squeal and grabbed Stiles' arm, "You could never scare anyone off. Derek, whoever you are, if you're out there please tell this beautiful boy that he's wonderful."

Derek knew this had probably been recorded days before, but he couldn't stop himself from texting Stiles, Just arrived in Bologna, watching you on TV. You ARE wonderful xx.

Derek was completely shocked when Stiles took his phone from his pocket a moment later on TV, a smile growing as he looked at the screen, before a more bashful expression took over his features. "Sorry," he apologized to the interviewer for pulling out his phone during an interview.

"Was it Derek?" she cooed.

Stiles' bashful smile turned into a blinding grin, before he looked down at his shoes, "He says I'm wonderful."

Derek's mouth dropped before he texted again, This is live?

Stiles' phone lit up in his hand, he looked down at it briefly before back up at the camera, "Yes Derek, this is live."

"What can you tell us about Derek?" The interviewer leaned forward on her elbow, eyes wide.

"He's approximately three million times hotter than I am, and the coolest person I've ever met," Stiles flashed his white smile.

The interviewer laughed, "I thought the guys in your band were kidding when they said you were love struck, adorable. Now, everyone has been speculating since you came out, wondering who the lucky guy is that stole your heart, the most popular theory being that your Derek is heartbreaker Derek Hale from the indie group the Girl Dogs. You wanna take this chance to confirm or deny?"

"It's Girls and the Dogs," Stiles pursed his lips, before they quirked into a smile, "I am completely infatuated with Derek Hale."

A picture appeared on screen of Derek from the NME awards two years earlier. "He is a beautiful man."

Stiles sighed, "I know right? I’ll be at sound-check and I’ll forget what I'm supposed to be doing if I think about his jawline, or his cheekbones."

"Wow, you're really gay," the interviewer laughed.

Stiles frowned, "Uhh, yeah… that's why I'm here right?" She shifted uncomfortably, seemingly unsure how to respond, but Stiles' just raised both his eyebrows and pulled on his chin nervously, "There are four other guys in my band, yet I'm the only one anyone wants to interview at the moment."

The interviewer grinned dismissively before turning to the camera, "I'm Kazra for MTV UK with my new favorite guy Stiles from Love Notes. We'll leave you with this summers number one hit from Love Notes, Bad Things Tonight."




Derek was in the middle of sound check at the festival they were playing in Madrid when his phone went off in his back pocket. Laura rolled her eyes when she saw him grabbing for his phone before waving him off with a groan, "Just take it."

"Hey you," he answered with a grin, turning his back to his band.

"So remember those wild horses?"

Derek breathed out deeply, "No. Fuck. Really?"

"The higher ups made the call today to cancel the rest of the publicity tour in Europe, we didn't have any shows so I guess the label doesn't care if we miss a few mall tours in Spain or whatever the hell they wanted us to do. For the first time ever, I'm mad that I don't get to do pointless publicity."

"Is everything okay? What does that even mean?" Derek asked nervously.

"Well now that we're the boy band with the openly gay guy the labels number one focus is maintaining our popularity in the States. According to iTunes alone we sold more singles in Europe in the past two weeks than ever before, but we took a hit back home. I thought I was looking at the presidential voting map when they showed me our latest sales, it's almost like we don't exist in the central states. We're still popular in Texas but the rest of the south, we've sold next to nothing."

"You're heading back home then?"

"Well via New York," he said with a disgruntled sigh.

"We're never going to see each other are we?"

Stiles laughed, "Oh the irony that now I can kiss you on the street without worrying we can't even manage to be in the same city for more than ten minutes," his voice dropped, "we'll see each other soon. I promise."

"We've got Iceland Airwaves in three days, and then we're done. I'll be back home to my dog, my bed and grading confusing papers on Chaucer."

"I want all of that. Except for Chaucer. You're such a dark horse with your medieval literature, I feel like you should be playing heavy metal and doing role play though."

"I think I could be persuaded to role play with you, I'll be Perotheus and you can be Theseus from the Knights Tale."

"I don't know what that means but yes. They really get gay in Chaucer?"

Derek laughed as he walked behind the back of the stage and sat on the grass, "I sure hope so since my entire PhD centers around homoeroticism in Medieval Literature."

"Tell me about Perotheus and Theseus."

"It's actually a little tragic. Role playing would end quickly in tears. I'll quote it and you're either going to think I'm impressive or a giant nerd. For in this world he loved no man so, And he loved hym als tendrely agayn. That whan that oon was deed, soothly to telle, His felawe wente and soughte hym doun in helle --"

"Definitely both. So when one of them died, the other went to hell to find him because they were so in love?" then Stiles groaned, "Oh my god, you read stuff like that out to your students in class don't you?"


"I refuse to believe they're not all in love with you. Ugh, I am melting over here. With you being you and talking about tragic gay love, and fuck. Derek. I'm really sad we're not on our way to Madrid."

Laura found Derek hiding out behind the stage and kicked him lightly in the ass, "Dude, when you're done quoting nerd down the phone to your boy then it's time to get back on stage and finish sound check. Grizzly Bear are waiting and getting, grizzly."




Derek had been home in Santa Monica for five hours before he realized how relaxed the paparazzi in Europe had been compared to LA. He'd picked up his dog, Otis B. Driftwood, from the sitter and was rounding his block after taking Otie for a three-hour walk, when he was bombarded by at least ten people with cameras, two with video cameras.

"Derek what is it like to be suddenly famous?"

Derek just frowned at the guy, as he got closer to his front gate, "I wouldn't know."

The guy laughed, "You're dating the most famous twenty one year old in America right now. It must be helping your struggling career."

Derek knew better, he really did, but this guy was obnoxious and he was making Otie mad, which was always a sign of true evil. He breathed in heavily, turned to the guy and bit out, "Fuck off."

"Wow," another guy in a baseball cap shouted as he got closer, "a bit too close to the truth is it Derek?"

"I don't have a struggling career. We're not trying to break into the top forty. Jesus," he snapped before he took another deep breath and opened his gate slipping inside as they continued to shout at him.

Waiting outside his front door was a short stocky man in a polo shirt and shorts. He grinned at Derek and held out his hand, "Bobby Finstock, artist image management for Columbia Records."

Derek looked down at his hand, and decided to shake it when Otie started jumping up on Finstock excitedly instead of snarling at him, "Otie, down," he growled as he shook Finstock's hand suspiciously. "Uhh, so what can I do for you?"

Finstock held his hands up defensively, "I'm here on my day off man. I was just hoping I might be able to help you. I've known Stiles since he had a high voice and acne, and I've never seen the kid in-- I don't want to see the media destroy your relationship before you even get a chance to have one."

Derek looked over Finstock once more, before nodding then pulling out his phone and calling Stiles who answered with, "We've got Letterman in half an hour. Barf."

"I won't keep you, there’s a Bobby Finstock standing at my front door right now, is he a goodie or a baddie?"

Stiles laughed down the phone, "He's a fucking troll. But he's cool, taught me everything I know about evading reporters, just don't ever play cards with him. He's sneaky, like Death."

Derek hung up the phone, smiling awkwardly at Finstock as he unlocked his front door, "I haven't been to the store yet, so I can offer you water or uhh, water."




The first thing Finstock had told him was to ignore paparazzi, no matter what they shouted at you because they would quickly give up if they couldn't get any good photos or soundbites. Derek texted Finstock three days later when he took Otie out for his morning walk and saw there wasn't a photographer in sight: I guess you know what you're talking about. Being boring works. I'm free?

Finstock had called him half an hour later and said not to count his chickens quite yet because the moment Stiles got back into town it was going to be all on again. He couldn't even pretend that the prospect filled him with dread; he'd take a thousand annoying photographers calling him a fame-hungry-dick-sucker if it meant he finally got to see Stiles again.




Derek had four days to go until Fall quarter started at UCLA and he'd had a confused call from the head of the department who had told him, that for some reason, Derek's usually half empty class had, for the first time ever, filled up. Morrell had been delighted, her exposure to popular culture was non-existent so Derek didn't have the heart to tell her that the sudden popularity wasn't because the students of UCLA had finally figured out that Chaucer and Sir Thomas Malory were where it was at.

Derek always looked forward getting back into the academic year, but now he had this sinking feeling that the next quarter was going to be spent evading questions about Stiles from excited undergrads.

Laura and Boyd were in his kitchen making salsa when Derek finally got off the phone with poor sweet Morrell.

"So, I take it you can deal with food now?" he asked Laura who was standing closer to food than he'd seen her in weeks.

"It's like, I hit twelve weeks and bam, almost human again. Coffee drinking near me is still banned though, and apparently I can't eat soft cheese or hummus or shellfish or-- salad."

Boyd smiled at her, placing a kiss on the back of her neck before reaching for a red onion to dice, "Doctor said you could have salad, but you have to prepare it yourself."

Laura pouted, "But I like it when other people make my salads and then I give them money in exchange for the kind gesture."

"I'll make you salads baby."

"You are so worth having around," she smiled and turned around to kiss him on the lips.

Erica and Matt walked through the front door, not bothering to knock as usual, hands full of paper shopping bags. "Sorry, Matt made us drive around forever to find his Swedish mango-raspberry cider."

"If you tried it you wouldn't be laughing so hard," Matt snarked back at her.

"I'm not laughing dork, I'm crying for the loss of your manhood."

He put the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, before shaking his head, "Derek how do you put up with this harpy?"

Derek took Erica's bags, before pulling her into a hug, "Hey, she doesn't question my manhood."

"Except for her constant insinuation that you like it up the butt."

Erica laughed, and Derek winked, "Matt, how many times must I tell you," he kissed the top of Erica's head before moving back around the other side of the kitchen counter, "liking a dick up your ass is not an affront to ones manliness."

Erica nodded, "Matt's definitely not man enough to take it up the ass."

Matt rolled his eyes at Erica as he opened the cap of his cider. "You can't Tom Sawyer me into gay sex."

Boyd spat out the beer he'd just sipped, as he laughed, "Dude, are you forgetting about Kansas City?"

Matt stuck his nose in the air, "I said I couldn't be tricked into getting fucked in the ass, doesn't mean I can't mix things up a bit on my own volition."

"Apropos of nothing," Laura grinned, "now that I've stopped barfing all day and night, we were thinking--"

Boyd wrapped his arms around Laura and flashed everyone the goofiest smile, "We want to go to Vegas this weekend."

"You guys don't waste time do ya?" Erica smiled.

"I found a dress, but it's teeny tiny 1960s before we all got fat era, and I think I've got about a week left in me before it's a little too snug."

Derek walked out of the room for a moment before coming back in holding his macbook, "Guess we better book some rooms huh?"




Derek was packing his bag, and listening to Love Notes, which was apparently his new favorite band. He'd started listening because of Stiles, and then somehow their catchy songs had taken over his brain and he found himself in the shower singing earnestly, 'I'll do your homework, if you'll talk to me in French. You never notice me, but girl we could be friends.'

He turned the music down a little when he heard the doorbell, and when it rang again, he groaned as he walked to the door, "I'm not done packing--” he started as he opened the door, but it wasn't Erica early to pick him up for the airport. Stiles smiled at him shyly, but Derek didn't give him a chance to speak because he was pulling him inside, slamming his lips on to Stiles'.

When they pulled away for a breath Stiles grinned at him, "Told Kate if she didn't let me fly home for the weekend I was gonna let Kathie Lee and Hoda ask me about sucking cock."

Derek laughed before running his hands along Stiles' sides, "I can't believe you're here."

"Came straight here from the airport. I can't even remember what my apartment looks like anymore. Don't care," he looked behind Derek for the first time since he'd walked into the house, "nice place, where is Otis B. Driftwood?"

"Just dropped him off at the sitters again. I'm actually… fuck. Laura's getting married tonight" Derek had for a few minutes, completely forgotten why he'd been expecting Erica to pick him up, he took Stiles' hand and walked him down the hall to his bedroom, "you feel like spending six hours in a car driving to Vegas?"

Stiles looked at Derek's half packed overnight bag, and bit his lip, "Your sister won't mind me crashing her Vegas wedding?"

Derek pulled Stiles in close, "You wouldn't be crashing. You're part of the package now, I just didn't think I'd get to see you for another few weeks."

Stiles smiled, biting his lip coyly, "Part of the package huh?"

Derek crowded Stiles back on to his bed, his body hovering over Stiles who lay underneath him laughing, "Don't pretend that you don't know that you're stuck with me now."

Stiles stopped laughing, and reached his hand behind Derek's head pulling him close, and placing a soft kiss on his lips, "I've missed you so much that I don't know how I functioned before I met you. Honestly, how did I go through every day without looking forward to hearing your voice on the other end of the phone at night?"

"I don't think I existed before I met you," Derek said softly.

"Oh my god, you guys, it's like watching the Notebook," Erica laughed from behind him in the doorway. Derek didn't turn around, just leaned down and kissed Stiles again before finally rolling off him and lying next to him on the bed.

"You're going to have to start knocking," Derek said with a raised eyebrow.

"And miss out on free live gay porn and lifetime movie romance? Never."

Stiles sat up and smiled at Erica, "Hey Erica."

Derek ran his hand along Stiles' firm back, "Don't worry, I'll change the locks to keep out she-who-hath-no-boundaries."

Erica poked her tongue out at Derek, before grabbing his bag off the bed, "You haven't even finished packing."

He sat up and took the bag back off of her, "Duh."

"Deaton and Matt are in the back of my car fighting over Pepsi Max, I guess you guys are gonna wanna sit back there huh?" she said with a pout, "I don't want Matt sitting up the front with me, he always smells like pot. He doesn't even smoke pot. How does this happen?"

Derek laughed as he stood, "It's his Trader Joes deodorant. It doesn't work. He won't believe me though."

"I can't believe homeboy has slept with more men and women than probably either of us combined," she sighed. The horn on Erica's car started blaring from outside. "Oh my god. I'm going to kill him. Okay, you guys get to sit with natural musk, I'm gonna go tell Deaton to hop in front. Hurry up though, Friday traffic to Vegas is a motherfucker."




Erica thought it was amusing to play Love Notes the entire drive, but Stiles just grinned and sang along in the back seat, throwing in the occasional intense hand gesture for effect, which was always rewarded with Derek's tongue down his mouth for the next five minutes.

Matt groaned about four hours into the trip, "They're going to start fucking on top of me Erica and it's all your fault. No more boy bands, it's like sex pollen for Derek."

Derek just flicked Matt around the back of the head before settling his arm around the back of Stiles' neck, resting his head against Stiles' and closing his eyes.




Derek and Stiles didn't make it back to their hotel room until after two AM. Matt, Erica and Deaton had stayed out partying after the wedding, but Derek had dragged Stiles away from the club as soon as Laura and Boyd had called it a night.

"You still gonna get in trouble with the label for sex before marriage?" Derek asked as he shut the hotel room behind him, loosening his tie as he walked toward Stiles who was already lying on top of the bed, his arms casually behind his head.

Stiles smirked, "I'm sure of it. But until you're ready to put a ring on it, I think I'll take my chances."

Derek straddled Stiles' hips, running his hand over the buttons of his dress shirt, not unbuttoning, just touching, "You kid, but if I thought I could get away with throwing you over my shoulder and running off to Connecticut with you, I would in a heartbeat."

Stiles grinned, "You kinda killed me when I realized you were crying during the ceremony earlier."

Derek flicked his fingernail over Stiles' nipple through his shirt, "I have a big heart."

Stiles' hands moved from behind his head to Derek's buckle, undoing it with one hand, while the other stroked over the thin fabric covering Derek's half erect cock, "I vividly recall that is not the only big thing you're packing."


Stiles smiled wickedly as he pulled Derek's dick out of his pants, running his hand along the length, watching as it grew thicker and longer with every touch. "I'm in constant fluctuation between wanting to write poetry about your eyes and jerk off over the memory of seeing you naked."

Stiles pulled on the bottom of Derek's tie, dragging Derek down to his lips. Derek moaned into their kiss, and tried to shuck out of his pants without breaking the contact. Stiles pulled back and shook his head, "I need you naked now, all the way. Or I’ll die."

Derek smirked but complied, standing and almost tripping over himself in his eagerness to be naked next to Stiles, watching as Stiles undressed lazily on the bed, like the beautiful tease he was. Derek was frozen in place as Stiles slipped out of his pants, before hooking his fingers underneath his boxer briefs, his dick catching and springing back against his pale stomach as he pulled them the rest of the way off.

"Ready to de-flower me?" Stiles grinned, but Derek was so turned on he didn't laugh back, just nodded as he climbed back down on top of Stiles, kissing his lips before moving down his body until Derek’s mouth was wrapped around Stiles' leaking cock, "Jesus, Derek. Oh my god."

Stiles' hands pulled on Derek's hair as Derek sucked on the head of Stiles' dick before licking all the way down to his balls, sucking them into his mouth before putting his hands beneath Stiles' knees, pushing his legs up and licking all the way down to his asshole.

"Derek. Fuck. Isn't that gro--" Stiles stammered out, his hands now fisted into the sheets of the bed. Derek shoved Stiles' right leg to the side to give him better access.

"Not gross. Hot," Derek said as he leaned down to lick Stiles' rim, before throwing Stiles' right leg over his shoulder and wrapping his lips back around Stiles' cock. Stiles was moaning loudly above him as Derek twisted his hand around the base of Stiles' cock keeping the pressure around the head. Derek stroked his hand back along Stiles' balls, feeling them tighten before Stiles' body stiffened and he came in Derek's mouth. Derek stroked him through his orgasm, trying to swallow all of Stiles' come, but there was a lot.

He moved back up the bed and kissed Stiles, before Stiles laughed, "Sorry, I uhhh, tried this thing where I didn't jerk off for three days. I guess now we know what happens."

Derek grinned, kissing down Stiles' neck, "It was hot."

"You keep saying that," Stiles laughed.

Derek looked up at Stiles, resting on his elbow, "Because it's true. Everything about you makes my toes curl."

Stiles pulled him back down to kiss; guiding Derek's legs back to straddle his hips, his tongue clashing against Derek's fiercely. When Derek felt Stiles harden against his ass again he reached over to his bag and pulled out the lube and condoms. Stiles bit Derek's lip eagerly as he squeezed the lube on to his hands, but when Stiles' hand stalled nervously Derek grabbed it and brought it in between his legs.

Stiles hissed as he slipped his slicked up forefinger into Derek's ass. Derek leaned back down, kissing Stiles and by the time Stiles was sliding two of his long fingers in and out of Derek's ass Stiles didn't look so afraid anymore.

Derek grabbed the condom that was lying next to him on the bed, ripping it open before moving down Stiles' body and sliding it on to Stiles' dick. Derek grinned at Stiles as he guided Stiles' dick from behind inside of him. It had been a long time, but Stiles' dick was a lot like Stiles’ fingers, long and thin, and the burn didn't last for long as soon as Derek started moving on top of him.

Derek was grateful for the many hours spent doing squats in small gyms over Europe as he held his body over Stiles, moving up and down slowly on Stiles' cock without ever sinking down completely. "My dick is in your ass," Stiles blurted out before cringing.

Derek laughed as he steadied Stiles with one hand firmly on his thigh and the other digging hard into his collarbone and groaned when Stiles dug his nails into the arm that held Stiles' chest down as Derek began to move faster on top of him.

"Fuck Derek," Stiles called out, as he sat up, dragging Derek flush against him until Derek was sitting in his lap. Stiles bucked up inside of him before wrapping his hands around Derek's face, and licking inside of Derek's mouth as he found a rhythm thrusting into Derek.

Derek moved off of Stiles lap so his knees rested either side of Stiles as he took control again, fucking down onto Stiles' dick. Stiles stopped kissing him, wrapping his arms around him tightly and dropping his head on to rest Derek's chest. "You're so sweaty," Stiles moaned as he bit and licked Derek's chest before leaning up and pulling Derek back down for a kiss.

"And you're so fucking hot," Derek whispered as he guided Stiles on to his back, wrapping his hands behind Stiles' head as moved up and down on his cock before leaning back down to kiss him. Stiles' fingers dug into his ass, and his knees hit Derek's back as Derek fucked himself harder and faster on Stiles' dick. He was getting closer to coming, despite that the only friction his cock was getting was from sliding along Stiles body as he moved on top of him.

When Stiles let go of his ass Derek grabbed both of Stiles' hands, holding them up behind his head on the bed, leaning down to bite Stiles' lower lip before riding him so hard that Stiles was swearing and writing underneath him, trying to get out of Derek's grip. "Derek I want to touch you. Fuck if you keep doing that I'm going to come," Derek smiled before tightening his grip on Stiles' hands and fucking him so fast that his knees were starting to burn from the friction of the cheap hotel sheets, Stiles looked like he was going to cry when he yelled, "I'm-- Derek. Fuck."

Derek slowed down a little, as he fucked Stiles through his orgasm, before letting go of Stiles' arms to take care of his own leaking cock. Stiles was still hard inside him and thrust up as Derek tugged on his dick, coming in thick streams over Stiles' chest moments later.

Stiles pulled Derek down into a kiss before turning them around so he was on top of Derek, pulling his dick out of Derek in the process. Derek realized they must have fucked for longer than he realized because his knees were so red they almost looked grazed and his thighs were twitching so hard he didn't think he'd be able to stand if he tried.

Stiles grinned as he flopped down beside Derek, "I'd say I wish I'd been doing that for the past five years, but I don't think anyone else could possibly compare to you."

Derek laughed, pulling Stiles' arm up in front of him, looking at the red marks he’d left around his wrists, "I'm sorry."

Stiles leaned over, and placed a small bite on Derek's chest before kissing it, then moved up to kiss Derek's lips. "Don't be. You holding me down while you fucked yourself on me, pretty much the best moment of my life." Stiles laughed and threw his head back down on to the pillow next to Derek, "I'm just going to sleep here for a few thousand years and we'll clean up in the morning."

Derek stood weakly to find a hand towel to clean them up and wasn't surprised when he got back from the bathroom that Stiles was out cold already. He wiped Stiles down and got rid of the condom before slipping his arms around Stiles in bed, and pulling the sheet up to cover them.

"Derek love you," Stiles murmured as Derek nestled his head behind Stiles' neck.

Derek stilled for a moment, and whispered, "Stiles?" but the only response was snoring about a minute later.

Derek kissed the back of Stiles neck and whispered into his skin, "I love you too."




Do I have to come and stare menacingly at your students again so they'll stop flirting with you? Tell them you are mine. Need to get you a property of Stiles t-shirt.




Care to explain why all my shirts have disappeared and my drawers are now filled with t-shirts that say Property of Stiles? I'm late for a meeting. I actually hate you.




Scott got Allison knocked up. Looks like we're gonna have another baby in the family. Management = not happy. Uncle Stiles = stoked!




Don't worry about putting dinner on, Boyd just phoned me, baby Spencer is here via the messy miracle of homebirth! Heading over to their place now.




Derek was grading papers on the kitchen table when he got the text from Stiles: I'm on my way home, turn on the TV. They're doing it. Nail in coffin of Love Notes.

Derek switched on the TV, then groaned, texting Stiles back: There are a million channels doofus. Stiles raced through the front door a minute later and grabbed the remote from Derek, turning on MTV.

On screen Jackson and Danny were being interviewed by a blonde girl, Beth something. "So why now?" she asked.

Jackson stroked his hand along the back of Danny's neck, before looking back at Beth and shrugging, "Stiles. Just seeing how happy he is now that he's finally able to be honest. We wanted that."

Danny laughed, "We've been together since we were sixteen, but nobody knew. Not even the guys in the band, for years. The label made us sign a confidentiality agreement once they found out about us. We're only able to come out now because Love Notes have done our contracted three albums and publicity. The label has been sitting on the contracts for renewal for two months. We realized if we signed again, we'd be signing away another five years of our life to a lie."

Beth shook her head, "You hear stories, but it's hard to imagine that anyone would do that. Is that even legal to make you sign confidentiality agreements about your own life?"

"Legally we're contract workers, we're not covered by standard employment law." Danny shrugged, "We're not exceptions, and it's not just the music industry. It's much worse for actors, who even between jobs risk never getting another part once they come out."

Jackson nodded his head, "Let's face it. There is no way we're getting signed for another three album deal after this airs. But we talked to the other guys in the band and we're all okay with going out like this. Scott just got cast in an indie film, Isaac hasn't left his house in a month because he's been writing a novel and Stiles is already working on a solo album with his boyfriend."

Beth grinned, "I can't decide which of those three things I'm more excited about," she tilted her head and studied Danny for a moment, "So what about the two of you? Big plans?"

"Nope," Danny smiled, threading his fingers through Jackson's.

"None at all?" Beth frowned.

Jackson shrugged, "Well, obviously we're not retiring at twenty two. But we've never really had a break from this. We've spent years working eighty hour weeks, always looking over our shoulders, the fear of being caught always there. We just want a break from this life for awhile."

"We're headed down to Australia and New Zealand to surf and drive around in a beat up VW for three months. Ask us again when we get back."

Jackson grinned at Danny, and the affection he had for the other man had never been so apparent than in that moment, "You and me baby."

Beth cooed, "The two of you are ridiculously adorable. But, aren't you worried about the media attention down under?"

Danny laughed and shook his head, "Kiwis and Aussies are cool like that. Even when we played shows down there, apart from a few screaming fans at the airport, no one ever paid any attention to us."

"There is definitely a lazy, less celebrity focused vibe that we appreciate."

Danny turned to Jackson, "Maybe we should just move there?"

Jackson laughed, "You and me, Bondi Beach surf bums for life? Yeah I could see that."

Beth grinned, "Well I hope you decide to come back after your trip, and maybe you'll stop by MTV and let us know what's next for Danny and Jackson. Good luck guys," she shook their hands before turning to the camera, "you've been watching Beth for MTV News."