Chapter Text
It’s been one year since Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale’s love was tested. This month struck the anniversary of the day Stiles could have lost his life, and Derek could have lost his all. There’s nothing scarier then coming face to face with death, but as a very sweet boy once said, death doesn’t happen to just you. It happens everyone else around you. The accident had left the young man out of work up until now. Tremors threatened his handwriting, random black outs left him dazed in the middle of day and weak. To this day, anxiety still strikes Stiles every now and then, but it’s become incredibly tolerable with the help of Derek.
Derek never saw his life come to this. He never knew he would fall in love with a certain mole-specked teenager. He never thought he would drop everything for this child.
“Good morning.” Derek snuck up on Stiles who was in the kitchen. The werewolf hugged the human from behind as he whispered in his ear.
“Jesus-“ Stiles groaned, one hand up under his shirt as his sweatpants threatened to reveal his boxers. Derek smiled as he saw his husband scrambling some eggs at the crack of dawn. Stiles was pecked with multiple kisses across the cheeks, before they started traveling down his neck.
“Derek.”
“What?”
“You’re gonna get us burned.” Stiles bit his lip as he said sternly.
“What?”
Stiles squirmed out of the embrace to turn off the stove that they were dangerously grinding next to. “Later,” the young man smirked. Derek chuckled as he poured out a cup of coffee for himself and a cup of orange juice for his hubby. A ding alerted them of freshly toasted bread slices before they were brought to the table along with the eggs and some bacon. The two sat outside on the balcony for a lovely breakfast. “I swear I say this everytime I sit here but, the view is so gorgeous.” Stiles looked off from where he sat, staring at the vista. They now lived in a modern, two floor home off the shore of Malibu beach. Their kitchen was adorned with a sharp white and blue/gold accented theme, and of course only the finest planted herbs for Derek. The living room and Dining room were finally furnished, and it wasn’t long until the three bedrooms were finally done. Suffice to say, Derek looks damn fine when he’s lifting heavy shit. His husband gave him a fine grin, staring at the man that was his. Everything felt so good now. Stiles is healthy, Derek’s happy, Scott and Malia are married. Everything’s so good.
God, how’d I get so lucky with this one?
After all that they had went through in the last year, everything has felt so right. Finally, Derek wasn’t afraid to hug Stiles tight with the fear that he might break. Finally, Derek could take Stiles ice skating at the rink without the fear of his leg giving out. He was happy, healthy, and damn he was even out there getting a job. Derek’s mind stopped being happy when he felt a sudden drop in his chest. He shook it off as it went away within a few seconds.
“...anyways so yeah and you’re not listening.” Stiles bit out of his toast, pursing his lips at Derek.
The wolf furrowed his brows upwards, “I’m sorry love, what did you say?”
“I said, I got a call. At UCLA. I think I’m gonna go in for the interview.”
Something about that sentence scared Derek. Last time he packed his bag, Stiles ended up half dead.
“What?” Derek asked when he received a glare from Stiles.
“Nothing- just, you have this look on your face.”
Derek sipped his cup of coffee, “Stiles.. it’s just- I worry.”
“Wait a second- stop right there wolfman.” Stiles scoffed, getting up to put his dishes away, “let me have this one Derek. Come on. I get a brand new start- my dream job. And It would allow for connections with my dream school. see? No tremor? Wanna know why? Because I take my meds, don’t drink coffee, and am a very responsible adult.” Stiles was going on another tangent, talking about the job he was offered under UCLA. Derek could literally hear the movie going on in Stiles’ head, it went a little like come on Derek! I left the pack for the FBI program! And being accepted as a criminal profiler for them? That’s insane! You know how long I’ve wanted this? Seven years old Derek! I was seven running around saying I wanted to be the X-Files! Was that even a show why I was seven? Wait no that can’t be. Maybe it was Magnum P.I. Wait what were we talking about again? Derek could just stare as Stiles blabbed, the words going in one ear out the either. Not that he was trying to drown him out, but if he didn’t, then he’d feel compelled to actually support Stiles. Again, it’s not that he didn’t want to support Stiles- but the last time he told him to go after his dreams, he almost fucking lost him.
“Wait- Stiles,” Derek got up by the time Stiles had made his way back in the house and towards the kitchen. “Stiles- come on, you know I support you 100%.”
“You’re a dirty liar,” the doe-eyed human whispered at the wolf when suddenly Derek had wrapped his hands around Stiles again. Stiles stopped talking as he gazed into his irises. You know those poems about blue eyes being the color of the ocean, the earth and basically everything else pure? Well Derek was smoldering at the amber that was Stiles’ honey brown eyes, thinking of the all the rose-gold and bronze luxuries in the world, the earth’s foundation, and the color of Jupiter. Brown eyes are the fucking essence of our existence, and they are beautiful.
“When’s the interview?” Derek whispered into his ear, his nose brushing past Stiles’ who was trying so hard to not make eye contact anymore.
“Next Saturday morning.” An entire week, okay that’s reasonable. Stiles blushed when Derek kissed his forehead, allowing the werewolf’s hands to move onto his shirt.
“Okay..” Derek talked in a relaxed tone, “then we’ve got- seven days.. to..” his voice grew hush as he started to pull on Stiles’ grey tee shirt, slipping his brawny hands underneath them and onto the human’s torso. Derek kissed his neck as Stiles drew it out when his back hit the wall.
“to what?” Stiles managed to get out.
“Make sure you’re ready for it.” Derek chuckled softly as he planted more kisses.
“Okay but now you’ve got me thinking about the whole- grrrr, Stiles the human can’t leave the house thing,” Stiles looked up in a nonchalant manner, completely ruining the mood. Derek pulled away.
“Stiles. I love you. I support you. I just got scared is all, I like having you in one piece. So now shut up so I can kiss you.” Derek pecked him on the lips as Stiles refused to pull away, loving the feeling of him. He loved the way the world stops no matter where, when, or how many times kisses him. Ever. However, when Derek pulled away first, Stiles begged greedily for him to come back. The wolf was breathing heavily, pants getting louder and louder be a groan came out of Derek, who suddenly clutched his chest.
“Woah- Derek? Derek you okay?” Stiles braced him as much as he could when Derek’s knees buckled underneath him and knelt on the floor. “Derek baby,” Stiles frowned in a complete frenzy, “talk to me.”
Derek was succumbed in a mental block, his heart rapidly beating against his chest when he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“I can’t- can’t-“ he took a step back, his hand meeting the wall so he can balance himself.
Immediately, Stiles knew what was happening.
“Derek- relax.” Stiles wrapped his fingers in Derek’s free hand as he spoke to him, “Def’ baby, it’s okay, it’s okay- I’m here- just relax.” Stiles’ voice was as reassuring and soothing as possibly can be, because he knew that’s all he wanted when he had panic attacks. Someone to hold his hand. The black-haired man’s breathe hitched, getting worse and worse by the second as the palpitations threatened everything he stood for. “Hey- Hey, Derek- hold your breath okay? Hold it in for seven seconds, and let it out for nine,” Stiles guides as he rubbed circles on his husband’s back. He complied, and within a few minutes Derek had calmed down as he slumped against the wall to catch his breath. There was complete silence until Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand.
“Are you okay? Are you dizzy or anything?” Stiles asked in concern. He knew how he would feel shitty after one, the feeling of getting hit in the head with a baseball over and over would linger in his rib cage. Whoever it was- Derek, his father, Scott- they would reassure him that it was okay, that he was stilll breathing but he needed to relax. The human brain had a tendency to say otherwise. Derek shook his head, taking long, deep breaths with a flushed face and frightened eyes.
“What the hell was that?” Derek whispered with a stunned yet confused expression.
“I think you had a panic attack..”
“But.. why?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Stiles looked to him with a sorry gaze, “Hey if something’s bothering you.. then maybe we should.. you know.. talk about it.”
Derek shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face.
“You know,” Stiles sat directly in front of him now, “I don’t have to be a werewolf to smell the anxiety off you.” It’s true. He didn’t. The constant tiptoeing, and the double-checking of the stove gave it all away. “Derek. Look at me.” Derek looked up, “you don’t have to be so macho all the freaking time. A little humanlike quality won’t kill you. It’s normal to be nervous.”
“What makes you think I’m nervous?”
“Well for starters, the whole grrrr, Stiles the human can’t leave the house thing, again,” Stiles smiled as he watched Derek break into a chuckle. “And also, I don’t have to be part of an FBI program to notice the adoption papers all over the dining room table.”
Derek’s eyebrows furrowed again, “Jesus Christ I forgot to call her again.”
Stiles stared at him with a blank face.
“Jenna? The social worker? Stiles- adoption is a very long, rigorous progress I don’t want to get blindsided going into it.” Derek claimed with a very serious look. She wanted to schedule a meeting with both of them.
“Oh yeah, you better watch out that Chuckie kid. He’s a scary one Derek. Seriously- he’ll devour you whole and regurgitate it to feed the other kids.” Stiles joked around, helping Derek up as he walked away. “Oh no big guy- you are sitting right here, and I am going to make you some tea to calm those Wolfie senses.” Stiles went on to the kitchen, talking to himself at this point, “spidey senses. You’re like Peter Parker. The senses- they just go haywire at the scent that is Stiles Stilinski.” Stiles put the water in the kettle as he thought about what just happened. He’s never seen Derek even remotely like that.
“You’re full of yourself.” Suddenly, Derek had already made his way to the Dining room to continue his work on the papers. Derek rubbed his face, frowning at the feeling that still lurked in his chest. It was something deep, as if it were feeling a void in his heart. He went through the papers, analyzing the picture of the little boy they were trying to adopt. He was a three-and-a-half year old named August and he loves dinosaurs and spider man, hell he even somewhat resembled Stiles a little. They would call him Gus, or Auggie, which ever he would prefer. They would spoil him, buy him all the toys and take him out to the park every other day. Derek always wondered how they would always love him unconditionally, watching him grow up until graduation day when he would finally leave them. Derek’s dad was never there for him. Especially since the fire. Derek was alone in high school, with Peter as the only figure in his life, considering Cora was off MIA. He just wants to make sure this kid, always feels loved even when they are mad at him. It started to make him think about Stiles, about everything he went through in high school as well; the kanima, the nogitsune especially, berserkers- you name it. He was literally fucking forgotten about for an entire year. Something about that makes Derek guilty, thinking it was somehow his fault. His fault that Stiles felt compelled to come out that night into the woods, because he was so upset about Laura being killed. Pulling out his phone, he pulled up some texts from Scott. He had sent him some pictures from the wedding, and the only thing that drew Derek’s eye was Stiles.
“Derek. Derek!” Stiles was obnoxiously yelling at the werewolf.
“Sorry-“ he watched Stiles put a beer down next to him on the table.
“You seem.. distant, I don’t know. I think you’re just stressed out from all this.” Stiles offered, closing the folder that Derek had been so on top of for the last half hour. The wolf smiled.
“Stiles you barely even drink..” it’s true, Stiles hasn’t been able to stomach alcohol ever since the accident. Something about his insides burning. He still sometimes gets dizzy spells, and he’s still got scars on his hips that make him self conscious.
“Oh no that’s for you- tea won’t relax you like a beer will.”
Derek chuckled, accepting the offer even though it might have been too early in the day for it. Although, he did wish he could actually feel the effects of alcohol, since werewolf’s are incapable of getting drunk. Sometimes, he wished he could just drink enough to forget. “Drunk” wasn’t a concept for him. He showed Stiles the pictures Scott sent him.
“Hey these look pretty nice-“ Stiles genuinely smiled, “damn you look really good in this one.” He showed the alpha a picture of Derek and Him standing next to each other. Derek was grinning at the camera, but Stiles couldn’t stop staring at Derek.
Derek smiled.
The feeling came back into his chest again, but he tried so hard not to let out any grunt of pain.