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"Somewhere with castles," had been the only stipulation Stiles had given Derek on the location of their honeymoon. "I know you're more of a outdoorsy woodsmen kind of guy, Der, but trust me, you don't want to have to be alone with me for two weeks in a cabin in the woods, even if there is tons of sex involved, because I will get bored, very bored, and that cabin will no longer be the peaceful getaway you imagined. It will become the horror film cliche it is known the world over as. So castles, get me castles, real ones, not some kitschy tourist trap constructed in the 50s, I'm talking moats, turrets, maybe a few headless ghosts, the whole schubang. Only the best for your newly wedded husband, right?"
What Stiles didn't realize is how much untapped trip planning enthusiasm was trapped inside his fiancé. At first Derek had grumbled about things like airport security and jet lag but one day Stiles came home to find their apartment littered with guidebooks and print offs from tourist sites. It appeared that Derek had settled on Central Europe and Stiles would be getting his castles, "hell maybe, sex in a castle too, no wait---sex with a werewolf in a castle, my life will have finally become the trashy drugstore novel it was always meant to be," thought Stiles merrily.
The day after their wedding, Stiles' dad dropped his son and son-in-law off at LAX. Derek was his usual reserved self, but Stiles was much more bleary eyed and he dragged his feet up to the checkin counter. He kept throwing glances at Derek and mumbling about werewolf stamina and how unfair it was. Derek just returned the complaints with a smirk, Stile certainly hadn't been complaining last night about his stamina.
"You're all set Mr. Hale and Mr. Stilin---"
"Actually, it's both Mr. Stilinski-Hale," interrupted Derek before Stiles had a chance to. Stiles practically beamed at his husband, oh yes, he'd get to use that stamina so much more on their trip.
"Oh marvelous!" cooed the airline woman, "Honeymoon huh? I had a friend who had her honeymoon in Germany, one of those river cruises, you know? Well you two lovebirds have a grand ole time!"
They made it through security without too much of an upset, though Derek's grim demeanor did earn him a "random" search. The TSA lady had been a little too handsy in Stiles' opinion, smiling up at Derek from her crouched position and letting her hands linger a little too long on Derek's thighs. Stiles had been forced to just glare from the sidelines as he stood there with his plastic tub containing his shoes and laptop, as this 30 something year old fake blonde encroached on his territory.
Stiles let his disdain be known as they walked to their terminal, "Did you see the way she batted her eyelashes at you Derek? She was inspecting your body for I don't know, bombs or something, I think she probably noticed the wedding ring. You could have done something you know, you shouldn't put up with sexual harassment like that."
"Well Stiles, I'm pretty sure ripping out the throat of an airport employee probably gets me blacklisted from flying forever and I didn't want to chance it," said Derek.
They arrived at the terminal with two hours until departure, they would then have to make a connection in Chicago and then it was just nine lovely hours until Berlin. Stiles scoped out the seating area for a place close to an outlet, but there was already a couple of teenagers occupying the only one nearby. Sighing, Stiles walked back to where Derek had planted himself and was currently flipping through a stapled packet of papers. Stiles dropped into the seat next to him and attempted to stick his face in Derek's neck, but the stiff immovable arm of the airport seat was a hindrance to Stiles' cuddle time. Then Stiles' attention turned to the papers in Derek's hands.
"Whatcha got there, Derbear?"
"It's our itinerary," replied Derek, pointedly ignoring the pet name he knew Stiles only used to get a rise out of him.
"Wait, what?" Stiles asked while sitting up, "I thought you said we weren't going on one of those package holidays, where did you get an itinerary from?"
"I made it."
"You made an itinerary? But why?"
"Because Stiles," said Derek still focused on the papers in front of him, "I love you, but you're pretty unpredictable and since we are going to three countries there are certain things I think we should see, and not just do whatever strikes your fancy at any one moment."
Stiles was slightly horrified as he watched Derek flip through the document. There were tabs, things had been highlighted in different colors, and it seemed to be at least seven pages single-spaced. This was serious, Stiles had married a man who made extremely detailed itineraries for trips. Was it too late to annul the marriage? Didn't these things have a one day grace period or something?
"So is the cabin thing no longer an option?"
Derek's only response was to lightly smack Stiles' head with the papers.
GERMANY
For the next two weeks, Derek and Stiles would meander their way down Central Europe, starting with Berlin, then on to Prague, and finally ending in Vienna. Between the big cities, Derek had included many excursions to small, out of the way, towns and attractions, which included many castles to Stiles' delight, but also many churches, which he was quickly losing his patience for.
"Seriously, Derek? Another grand cathedral? I mean they are impressive to look at but you see the inside of one, you've seen them all really," whined Stiles from the front of seat of their rented Skoda hatchback (Stiles had not yet tired of saying "Skoooooooda" everytime Derek mentioned the car, or when the car came into view, or just at random intervals).
"Anyway, didn't the uber Christians who built these monoliths persecute your people or something? Why you want to honor some folks that would have locked you up in a mountain ash lined dungeon?"
"Well Stiles, maybe one of us can appreciate culture, and they aren't all alike, each one is a lasting testament to the people who helped shape these regions," said Derek as he shifted gears into a public parking lot ( "You know how to drive stick?" Stiles had asked, and Derek hadn't warranted him with an answer. Of course he can drive stick. Stiles unfortunately did not know how to drive stick, otherwise he probably would have demanded to drive and use the famous speed limit-less German highways to put both their lives in danger).
"Well excuse me, Mr. Guide-book, maybe I'm all cultured out."
"Stiles, we still have two more countries to go, I really hope that's not true," said Derek as he put the car in park.
"Oh I'll be fine, as long as I keep finding premium gelato stands in each town," replied Stiles as he hopped out of the car.
"You're going to make yourself sick," said Derek as he stood up from the drivers side and walked over to grab Stiles' hand.
They started walking towards the town center, a yellow sign with ZENTRUM on it pointing the way. They came upon an adorable street running parallel with a small canal which was littered with locals in canoes and kayaks. There was a variety of cafés and souvenir shops along the street and the object of Derek's desire, the church, stood proudly above the tourist area on a hill.
A lot of tourists were zooming past on rented bikes, but Derek knew that was no longer an option. In an earlier German town they had used bikes to get around to a set of ruins further away from the town, but Stiles had taken a turn wrong and had ended up in a ditch full of stinging nettles ("What is this plant? Why would Europeans put up with such evil?"). Derek had mostly rolled his eyes at his husband's clumsiness, but later that night in their hotel room, he had rubbed Stiles' arms as they went to sleep, his own arms pulsing with black veins as he absorbed the painful tingling sensation.
Stiles immediately took off to the first cafe he saw with EIS written on it, calling after Derek to snag them a table on the street. Stiles had tried to get Derek to indulge his sweet tooth for once, but at most Derek only got a small vanilla cone from one of the soft serve machines. "I can't believe I married someone so bland," said Stiles the first time he did it, and then he leaned over and stole a lick from Derek's minuscule treat, earning him slight tap on the nose from his husband.
Derek sat outside of the current cafe, probably the sixth one they had been to, and they had only been in Europe for four days and they hadn't even left Germany yet. Derek hoped Stiles didn't return to the states baring new cavities. But despite the threat of dentist's bills, he enjoyed these quiet moments, with just the tittering sounds of tourists talking in a variety of languages walking by and Stiles happily licking his over-the-top concoction of gelato, which normally included a good serving of Nutella somehow ("Now even if I do question these peoples' taste sometimes, seriously what's with all the cucumbers, at least they know how to appreciate the treasure that is Nutella").
As Derek waited to see what Stiles would have this time, he watched a young family walk by. The young parents were following a boy and girl, the boy maybe around five and the girl only a toddler, both of them had the platinum blonde hair that was a signature of the area. The boy was practicing his skills on his bicycle while his sister toddled after him on her own wheelless baby bike that the all Europeans seemed to learn the first steps of bike riding on. The parents walked hand in hand, close enough to rush to the rescue if disaster struck.
While watching the family, Derek hadn't noticed Stiles standing behind him with a cone that was not only steepled high with ice cream but had an entire Kinder egg planted on the top. When Derek turned around and made eye contact with his husband, Stiles merely smirked and said, "Thinking about the future Derek? Maybe want a couple of those for our own?" and then his took a rather enthusiastic lick of his ice cream.
They had discussed adoption and both knew they were still a few years away from it. Things had evened out finally in Beacon Hills and people involved in the supernatural in the entire state of California knew not to get on the bad side of anyone affiliated with the Scott McCall pack. This era of peace had allowed Derek and Stiles to feel comfortable enough to get married and start planning their life together, but they were still cautious about getting children involved, they had already both lost so much, they couldn't lose much more.
But at the moment, Derek just shrugged and said, "Yeah sure, just maybe not so blonde. I don't want people thinking we've stolen them."
"Oh cool stickers!" exclaimed Stiles who had instead preoccupied himself with exploring the Kinder egg. Derek let out a small laugh before grabbing a sticker of a butterfly from Stiles and sticking it on Stiles' forehead.
CZECH REPUBLIC
"We've in it now, Derek! Former soviet bloc country, the land of the Slavs! Oh hey I wonder if any the Polish my Babbie taught me will come in handy, I think all the Slavic languages are all pretty close," chattered Stiles from the front seat of the Skoda. He had been napping when they had crossed the border and Derek hadn't told him immediately they had crossed when he woke up but he had noticed the different language and the disappearance of windmills.
"So we've gone from Hallo to what?" asked Stiles.
"Dobry den, or to friends Ahoj."
"Ahoy! What like pirates? People say hello like pirates here? I think this country may have just gotten a great leap ahead in the Stiles Favorite Central European Country Contest."
"Aw poor Germany," said Derek in a sarcastic monotone.
"Well I mean they did invade and occupy my family's homeland, so they already had that against them. Now the Czechs, they were in that same boat, so maybe I can connect more with them."
They drove on through the gently rolling hills of the Czech countryside, south towards Prague and Stiles was delighted to find that the amount of castle ruins had increased, every little town seemed to have their own set. They stopped a few times to wander around little towns because Stiles spotted ice cream stands (Stiles had a rewarded Germany a point in his favorite country contest because the German word for ice cream had been much more simple to say than the Czech one, zmrzlina).
But eventually they had arrived in Prague, and Stiles was immediately enraptured. Derek let a small smile grace his face when Prague castle, sitting up above the city, had come into view and Stiles let out a yelp of excitement.
"Now that's what I call a castle! Derek thank you for bringing us here, it's more than a boy could ever dream of," said Stiles right before placing a loud smack of a kiss on Derek's cheek. He tried not to show too much of a reaction to Stiles' affection, but inside he was beaming. It was yet to be known what country would win the place as Stiles' favorite but he definitely knew who was taking the Stiles' Favorite Husband award.
And he would deserve that award because maneuvering the Prague traffic was probably going to take some years off of him. Derek had a hard time not flashing his werewolf eyes at the other motorists ("Save those for the bedroom, baby, we don't want to cause a riot on our hands, no angry mob of Europeans with pitchforks for me thank you very much").
They finally got to their hotel and found the parking garage where the car would live for the next few days around three in the afternoon. Derek was tired from a day of driving and had been hoping for a quick nap, Stiles nestled peacefully in his arms, before heading out to dinner. But Stiles had other thoughts, as soon as the bags where on the floor of the hotel room, he quickly grabbed his best walking shoes and proclaimed that were off to see the city. Derek knew there was not much point to protesting and he let Stiles tug him out the door.
Prague was not as modernized looking as Berlin, but it had a more comfortable air to it, more worn in. Derek and Stiles bought tickets at the nearest metro station despite Stiles claiming that there was no way they would get chosen for random inspection on their first trip into the city. Of course, a man in street clothes had walked up to them with a badge in his hand, and Derek had tried but failed at hiding his smugness.
When they arrived in the Old Town Square, Stiles immediately gravitated towards the food carts, and made Derek buy him some the of the famous Czech sweet bread. They then went and gaped with a large crowd as the figurines in the astronomical clock made their rounds. Stiles tried to record it on his phone but some very tall Dutch men decided to stand in front of the couple, hampering the view.
They eventually made their way to the famous Charles Bridge, Stiles speechless for once at the beauty of Prague laid out before him. Derek knew the astonished look on his husband's face was worth the price of airfare and all the spats that the stress of traveling caused ten times over.
"Isn't this country super cheap to live in compared to the US?," asked Stiles as they continued to stroll down the bridge, joined hands swinging between them. "Maybe we could move here, a little place on the river, I could have some of that bread whenever I felt like it."
"Yeah, I'm sure Scott would love that, us abandoning the pack for a country he most likely can't find on a map," this comment earned Derek a light pitch on the arm from his husband. "Okay, okay, but seriously you'd miss the states too much, an I'm not too keen on being the American werewolf in Prague."
"Yeah, guess you're right, would be nice though," whispered Stiles. The sun was going down over the river and the air was starting to cool, prompting Derek to untangle his hand from his husband's and wrap his arm around Stiles, drawing him in close to his unfailing werewolf warmth. On the other side of the bridge, some female backpackers giggled and made cooing noises at the sight.
AUSTRIA
By the time Derek pulled into the parking garage at the hotel in Vienna he had begun to worry about his usually chattery husband starting to become silent, only replying in clipped one word answers. He wasn't just tired, Stiles normally made it quite clear when he was going to be taking a nap in the car, and he had started to look pale. When Derek finally pulled into park and pulled the key out of ignition, he looked over at Stiles, dozing with his head against the window. He reached over to stroke his thumb over the top of Stiles' hand that was resting of the console between them. Derek then reached up to touch his husband's flushed face, finding it alarmingly warm.
Suddenly Stiles eyes snapped open, "I'm gonna be sick," he managed to choke out as wretched the car door open, vomiting over the cement of the parking deck.
Derek quickly unbuckled and rushed over to Stiles and started to rub circles on the younger man's back. Finally Stiles was done with the first round, and sat up, trying to get a handle on the shivers convulsing through his body. Involuntary tears from the shock of vomiting were running down his face, and Derek reached forward to wipe them away.
"You know, for once, you had just the right timing, this is actually a pretty good time for you to get sick if it was inevitable. Come on, let's go and get checked in, and get you in a bed."
Stiles could only nod stiffly and let Derek lead him into reception.
Derek got service at the hotel reception in record time, Derek practically growling at the employees to just swipe his credit card and skip the diatribe about the continental breakfast. Stiles meanwhile had sat on a couch, with a trashcan Derek had given him clenched in his hands, trying to focus on a spot on the wall, anything to keep his mind off his rolling stomach.
Once Derek had the room keys in his hand, he gave a curt nod and sincere thanks to the staff and returned to his sickly husband. Stiles couldn't even look at his husband, too afraid that sudden moments would set off round two of vomiting. Derek just bent down, taking the trashcan and setting it back on the floor, and scooped up Stiles bridal style, knowing he needed to get Stiles to their room and their private bathroom faster than his husband's disoriented steps could get him there. Stiles would have protested but instead he stuck his face in Derek's neck and tried to keep his breathing even.
Hours later, after Stiles was finally starting to keep the Sprite that Derek bought from the hotel bar down, he was snuggled down under the duvet on their king size hotel bed. Derek was laid down next to him on top of the covers, reading a paperback spy novel he had bought at the airport.
Stiles looked over his husband, "I'm sorry Derek."
Derek, not taking his attention off his book, replied, "In sickness and in health right? I take my vows very seriously you know."
"Guess I'll never get to exercise the helping with the sickness part though, you just get to take care of your fragile human husband," said Stiles now staring resolutely at the ceiling.
Derek finally put his book down and flipped on to his side to face Stiles. "I'm sure I'll have a few more run ins with wolfsbane and mountain ash, you can make up for all the sick days then."
Stiles was quiet for a minute after this statement until he looked over at his husband, who was resting his eyes. "Derek? Sorry about messing up your itinerary, I'm sure there were bunch of cool museums and places you wanted to see in Vienna."
Derek opened up his eyes, making eye contact with Stiles, "Yeah, but no castles, so it doesn't really matter." He then pulled down the covers to get underneath, flipped off the lamp, and rearranged Stiles so his back was against Derek's chest, "Now try and get some sleep, so you can repay me for all the nursing when you feel better."
"Oh yeah big boy?" asked Stiles, failing to ride the smile in his voice.
"Yep, we're only going to really have one full day in Vienna and you're going to see every church this city has to offer--no complaining."
Stiles faked a groan and buried his head further into his pillow.