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Letter A: Anxiety

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"This is Derek Hale. Leave a message."

"This isn't funny anymore, Derek. Answer your phone!" Stiles thumbed the 'End Call' button on his cell almost hard enough to crack the screen. Then, he started pacing the clearing where Derek was supposed to meet him twenty minutes ago.

It was nearly midnight, but the full moon was only a few days away, so there was enough moonlight to see into the surrounding woods. Stiles had a flashlight shoved in his back pocket too. For emergencies. And to beat stupid beta werewolves over the head for making him worry.

His hands were shaking when he raised the phone to call Derek yet again. Before he could unlock the screen, he heard the sound of something coming towards him fast through the Preserve. He pulled his flashlight out as he spun around to face the threat, and then nearly fell over in relief when he saw that it was Derek, running full speed right at him.

Derek slowed to a stop and reached for Stiles, but Stiles backed away. His eyes raked over Derek's body, but there was no evidence of a fight or injury that would have slowed him down. Whatever had kept him wasn't their usual kind of trouble.

"Where were you?" Stiles spit out, staring down one of the most powerful werewolves that he knew. "I've been trying to call you for half an hour."

"I'm sorry." Derek wasn't even winded from the sprint, and that only made Stiles more angry since he was breathing heavily from emotion. "I forgot my phone at the loft, but I didn't think it would matter. Then, I was almost to the turnoff for the Preserve when your dad pulled me over."

That caused Stiles' eyes to widen in surprise. "My dad? What? Why?"

Derek's eyebrows did that dance between surprise and confusion. "I think he was trying to give me the 'if you hurt my son, you'll have to deal with me' talk."

Stiles stared at Derek for a long moment before he burst into laughter. All of his anxiety from before exploded into that one sound, and he sat heavily on the ground as his energy drained with it. He was relieved that Derek was okay, and he had expected no less from his father, though it was crappy luck that it had happened tonight of all nights.

Derek sat down next to Stiles and put his arm around the younger man. "You okay?"

Stiles nodded and reached for Derek's free hand with still trembling fingers. "Don't do that again, okay?"

"Okay." Derek agreed easily, and they leaned into each other, content to sit quietly for a few minutes.

"So," Stiles broke the silence, "why did you want to meet all the way out here for anyway?"

"I think this is the perfect spot to build a house, and I'd like your help with it."

Stiles gaped. "Derek?"

"I know you're still in college, and that it's kind of a big step, but I'm hoping that you'll want to be a part of this."

Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek before he could say anymore. There was still a lot for them to have to figure out – Stiles was only 19, and Derek was still, well, Derek – but Stiles wanted to help design the house and pick out couches and determine the best first meal to serve to the pack. He wanted them to do it together.