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The Treehouse

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The treehouse has seen and been through a lot in its lifetime. It has been built and repaired and expanded on so many times that the treehouse doesn't even remember its original form. Its walls have been colored on by crayons, markers, paint and mud. It wears each patch of art with pride.

It has seen friends vowing to always be best friends, and also seen those very same friendships break apart.  It's watched as tiny feet grew into bigger feet, and then bigger still, until they no longer climbed its ladder to confess all their secrets.

It has a lot of sweet memories, and some not so fond.  But its favorite story, the one it will whisper to the leaves at night when the moon is bright and full, is the story of the wolf who fell in love with the human.

Like most good stories, this one started with a lonely boy longing for a friend.  Day after day he would climb its ladder and stare out the window.  His hair, black and disheveled, would flutter in the breeze as he would sigh and watch his siblings romp in the grass below.  

He was quieter than the other kids.  Sure, there were times where he could be seen racing with everyone else, but most of his time was spent up in the quiet of its walls.  Pillows were strategically placed so that he could sit on them and catch the most light as he read his comic books.  Sometimes he read out loud, as if he had an audience, and afterwards he'd sigh and look out the window.

One day, as the boy was reading one of his books, a voice yelled out “Derek!” from the base of the treehouse’s ladder.  The boy, Derek, startled and his face lit up.  He waved the new kid up and fidgeted as he waited for the boy to join him.

The new boy, which the treehouse eventually learned was called Stiles, was the exact opposite of Derek.  He was constantly moving and seemed to have endless energy as he talked about anything and everything.  Derek hardly said a word while Stiles was with him, but it was obvious to the treehouse that he didn't need to.  

Some days Derek just sat and doodled on paper as Stiles would talk about school, or about what he had for breakfast that morning, or about his nights spent at his friend’s house.  Other days, Derek would sprawl out on the pillows and listen as Stiles read to him from the comic books.  

It was easy to see that they had a good friendship.  They spent a lot of time together during the summer days, and even an occasional summer night was spent giggling under the blankets as they told ghost stories.

Before the treehouse knew it, a year had passed and it had watched as the boys grew more.  Derek now wore glasses, and Stiles liked to tease him over it.  Derek never seemed to mind.  He would give a small smile, one the treehouse had never seen before until Stiles came around, and duck his head while his cheeks turned a soft pink.  

Soon, though, the teasing came less and less.  Stiles seemed more quiet and less fidgety.  Those days Derek took over the reading as Stiles would curl up against him.  He would stay by Derek until either a man in a police uniform or Derek's mom would come get him.  

Finally a day came where Stiles came up to the treehouse alone.  He sat there long after the moon rose.  He just stared out the window and never said a word.  Even after Derek climbed its ladder and sat down beside him, Stiles never talked.  It wasn't until Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ shoulder that he made a sound.  A small hiccup followed closely by a sniffle.  Derek pulled Stiles closer, and finally, Stiles began to cry.  Derek held Stiles close to him all night as he cried and slept.

Stiles stopped coming over for a while after that night.

Time passed, and the weather became cooler.  It was a brisk evening when Stiles made his way up its ladder again.  His hair had been buzzed off, and though he talked, it was easy to see he wasn't the same as before.  But Derek stayed by his side the entire time, offering hugs and smiles whenever Stiles seemed to need the comfort. It took a while, but slowly Stiles seemed to come back to the laughing, happy boy he used to be.  

Years passed, and even though the boys grew, they never stopped climbing its ladder to sit in the privacy of its walls.  The stories changed as they got older.  They talked about school, and crushes, and about who was caught kissing who. A lot of nights, after Stiles left, Derek would stay up in the treehouse and stare out its window wistfully.  

More time went by, and the boys grew more.  They were broader in shoulders now, and its ladder creaked slightly as they climbed it.

One full moon, the treehouse watched as Derek paced restlessly across its floors.  Suddenly he stopped and looked towards the door, and less than a minute later Stiles pulled himself up into the treehouse.  Derek started pacing again until Stiles placed his hand on his shoulder and said, “Dude, just tell me.”

Derek took a deep breath, then went into a story about a family of wolves who protected the lands, and humans, from other dangers that lived in the world.  Stiles remained silent during the entire story, then once Derek was done, he simply asked, “Show me?”

Derek tensed up, but his eyes slowly turned gold, and his nails grew into claws.  Stiles took a shuddery breath, then stepped forward.  He hesitated briefly before reaching out a hand and just before he touched Derek’s fingers, he paused.  Derek nodded, and Stiles ran his fingers across Derek's hand until he reached the claws, then he whispered “Holy shit, dude, this is awesome!”   The treehouse watched as Derek visibly relaxed and shuddered slightly under Stiles’ fingers while Stiles continued to touch and stare at Derek's claws.  

After that, Stiles always seemed to hang out on the full moon. Sometimes they stayed in the treehouse, but a lot of times it watched as Derek shifted into a wolf and ran around the yard with the rest of his family while Stiles ran after them laughing.  It wasn't unusual for them to end their nights, when it was warmer, curled up on its floor.  Derek never seemed to complain when Stiles would tangle his fingers in Derek's fur and fall asleep with his face mashed up against his body.  

One spring night, as the rain pelted down against its walls and Stiles was talking a mile a minute, Derek blurted out “Will you go to prom with me?”  Stiles immediately stopped talking and Derek ducked his head.  He missed the slow smile Stiles gave but he looked up when Stiles grabbed his hand.  Derek's cheeks turned pink as he smiled back shyly.  They spent the rest of night side by side on the floor discussing tuxedos and limos.  A month later, a picture of the two of them smiling at the camera in their tuxes hung proudly on the wall next to old colorings of super heroes.

The treehouse was there to see their first kiss.  It was a warm evening, and the stars were shining brightly.  Derek was pointing constellations out to Stiles, but Stiles wasn't looking at the sky.  When Derek turned to look at Stiles, his voice trailed off and they just stared at each other for a few long seconds.  Derek smiled and Stiles leaned in.  It was short, sweet, and just what the treehouse always wanted for them. When Stiles pulled back, Derek quickly looked down at the floor.  It took a little bit of coaxing, but finally Stiles managed to get Derek to look back up at him.  Derek's eyes were gold and he tried to hide his fangs, but Stiles just cupped his cheek and said “You are beautiful, Der.  All of you.”

The first time their kisses grew more heated, the leaves shifted outside to block the windows from prying eyes.  Later, as they curled into each other, it got to hear the first whispered “I love you,” followed by “thank God . I thought I was the only one.” Many eye rolls and shoves later, the leaves went back to offering them their privacy.

Many years passed where the treehouse didn't see the boys often.  Though there was one memorable Christmas where the two snuck out to hide behind its walls and exchange gifts.  A ring was given, and there was a lot of excited flailing from Stiles.  

The following summer there was a huge party in the yard down below the treehouse.  It watched happily as the two boys stood under the tree and exchanged their vows.  The leaves rustled excitedly as they kissed, and they parted just enough to let a beam of sunshine wash over Derek and Stiles.

The treehouse didn't see the boys much after that.  Not for a few years, at least.  One day, however, a group of men came and carefully cleaned out the papers off its walls, and packed up the pillows and blankets and all the other little odds and ends that the boys had brought up throughout the years.  The treehouse was taken down in pieces and loaded into the back of a truck.  The next morning the same group of men, along with Derek and Stiles, worked together to place it securely into another tree.  That night, for the first time in a long time, the treehouse creaked happily as Derek and Stiles snuggled up under blankets and slept on its floors.  

They didn't climb up its ladder often over the next couple of years, but the treehouse was content to watch them as they threw parties outside, or just sat around on their lawn chairs talking to each other.

Then the day came where they brought with them a little boy, and it knew that it would have the sound of laughter inside its walls more often. Maybe even the boy would bring his own friend along and the treehouse could have another wonderful story to share with the leaves at night as the rest of the world slept on. And hopefully the boy's story would be just as wonderful to it as the story of how his fathers fell in love.