One Epic Win
Stiles glanced up as Derek walked toward him, his hazel eyes curious and friendly, despite how much he'd wanted the same thing. An Olympic gold medal. The same medal Stiles now held in his hands.
Jesus. Would he be so friendly if their positions were reversed? He'd like to think he would be, but Stiles knew himself well enough to know he'd have hated losing. Like on an epic, epic scale.
"I know how much you wanted this, man. I honestly didn't expect things to go my way."
Derek shrugged. "I'm disappointed, but you did great, Stiles. You earned that medal. Ten times over."
Had he? His run on the slope had been good. But had it been Olympic gold medal good?
Warm, callused hands framed his face, gentle but firm. "Stop over thinking things. You did good today. You deserved to win. You deserved the gold, and hey, I didn't do so bad, either, you know. I got the silver."
Stiles smiled, though he knew it didn't reach his eyes. "I feel like I took something away from you. Like I cheated you out of something."
"You didn't. You wouldn't." Derek let go of his face and bent forward, bracing himself with a hand on either side of Stiles's hips against the hotel mattress. "You ran an amazing race, Stiles. Best I've ever seen, and if anyone deserved Olympic gold today, it was you. Hands down, it was you. The judges got it right."
Stiles nodded and sighed as Derek kissed him, pressing him back against the mattress while one of his hands moved to take the medal from his fingers and lay it on the bed next to them.
Derek kissed as if it were a revelation. As if everything he'd ever wanted was right there in front of him, and the best part was, Stiles knew that he meant it. They'd trained together for years, and they'd made it to the games together, and they'd each won a medal. They did good. Really good.
So why did Stiles feel so sad about it?
Derek pulled away, frowning at him. "Would you stop it? Let yourself be happy about this, Stiles. You won the gold, for fuck's sake."
"I know. I did. I just…I wish you had won it, too."
"There's always next time."
Stiles grinned, a real one this time. "That's true. You still have one more competition left. Think you can take Issac and the rest of them?"
"Count on it. That gold medal is mine."
Stiles nodded, believing him. "Well, we better get used to having two gold medal winners in our family then. Our future kids will be so proud of us."
"Family? Kids?" Derek blinked. "You want to have kids with me? You want to build a life with me?"
Dumbfounded was a good look on Derek, Stiles decided. It was a fucking awesome look, in fact.
"I want to have everything with you."
Derek's eyes softened, and the hand on Stiles's face shook a little before it moved to caress his lips. "I want that, too," he whispered. "I want everything you just said. All of it."
Did that mean they were going to get married? Should he ask? He should ask. He should totally—
"— marry me?" Derek was saying, his smile wide, his blue-green eyes full of love.
Stiles frowned. "Hey, no fair, dude. I was going to ask you that question!"
"Sorry," Derek said, looking not very sorry at all. "You got the gold, I bought the ring."
Bought the ring? "You bought me a ring? Seriously?"
"Seriously. It's in my bag. I was going to propose after the last race, but…I don't want to wait anymore. I love you, Stiles. I want to build a life with you. I want to marry you and have kids with you and...wait, you didn't say yes."
"Yes!" Stiles reached up and gripped the back of Derek's neck, pulling him down closer, close enough to touch their mouths together. "Yes. Yes. Yes. My answer is yes."
Derek grinned, shaking his head, and teased, "I knew it was yes. I just wanted to hear you actually say it."
Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Is this how our marriage is going to be? You asking me things you already know the answer to?"
"Absolutely. You know how much I love to hear you talk."
Laughter bubbled up from his chest, settled in against his heart. "Yeah, right. You tell me to shut up all the time."
"Only when I'm trying to be romantic and you ruin it with words."
No way. He didn't do that. "You're lying. You're a lying liar." He did not ruin romance with his words. "I am not a romance ruiner. You take that back right now!"
Derek lifted an eyebrow. "Stiles, you're arguing with me after I just proposed to you. What you should be doing is kissing me and letting me show you how much I love you and can't wait to be married to you."
Huh. That sounded… correct, actually. "Okay, I will let you get away with the defamation this time, but next time, buddy, there is going to be words. Lots and lots of words."
"I have no doubt of that," Derek said, giving him a bright, blinding smile. "No doubt at all."
Neither did Stiles. For the first time in his twenty-one years, he doubted nothing at all.
"I love you," Stiles whispered, reaching up to run his fingers through Derek's hair. "I really, really love you, Derek."
Derek kissed the inside of his wrist and met his eyes, his own eyes showing everything Stiles felt inside. "I really, really love you, too…Mr. Olympic Gold Medal Winner."
Stiles laughed again. "You should totally call that out when you come. That should totally be a thing that you do for me."
"Not even if I was dying," Derek said, rolling his eyes and moving to lift his t-shirt up over his head. "I will never call you that during sex."
Stiles pouted. "Why not? Don't you love me, Derek?"
"I love you…just not enough to call out that mouth full during sex."
He had a point. "We could shorten it then," Stiles said, lifting his arms when Derek made to remove his shirt. "My future husband has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"
"It has a great ring to it…but I'm not going to say that during sex, either."
"So what are you going to say then, Der?"
Derek glanced at him and shrugged. "I'm going to say what I always say."
"Stiles. That's what you're going with?"
Derek lifted his brow again. "Would you prefer I used your real name?"
God, no. Anything but that.
"Stiles is fine. Stiles will always be fine."
"Thought so. Now shut up so I can get us both undressed."
Stiles did. In fact, he didn't say another word until Derek sat on his knees in front of him, sliding the ring he bought him—a solid gold band with the words 'Forever Yours' engraved on the inside of the band.
He sucked in a gasp when the ring slid home then glanced up at Derek through eyes he would never, ever admit were watery. "We're gonna be fucking amazing parents, you know."
Stiles nodded. "I know you know. I also know you know we're going to rock marriage. Like hard core rock it, Derek. We're gonna be the couple everyone envies the fuck out of, all the time."
Stiles lifted his hands, ignored the shake in them, and framed Derek's face with his palms. "Hell yes, I promise. I promise you everything, Derek. Everything I am and ever will be."
This time it was Derek that shook his head, rolling his eyes before they softened, turning warm again. "You're such a sap. How did I fall in love with such a sap?"
Beats him, but he wasn't about to give it up or let it go. There weren't enough gold medals in the world to make him do either of those things, and Stiles knew there never would be.
He loved Derek, and he wasn't giving him up. Not ever.
Amazingly enough, Stiles knew without a shred of doubt that Derek felt the exact same way.
Which made them both luckier than any two people on earth had a right to be.
"You're lucky you get to love me, Hale, and you damn well know it."
Derek nodded and stretched up until he could lean in and brush Stiles' mouth with his. "I am lucky," he said softly, the words a mere breath against Stiles' lips. "I'm very, very lucky."
But not as lucky as Stiles. No one would ever be as lucky as Stiles.
Because he was a fucking gold medal winner and got engaged to the man he loves all in one day.
That was lucky. That was extremely lucky.
In fact, that was fucking epic.