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A Guy Like You Should Wear a Warning

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The blue trousers fit so snugly and the vest accentuates those broad shoulders so perfectly, shirt sleeves rolled up to show off strong forearms, that it’s impossible to look away from Stiles. That Derek knows how the mole dotted, pale skin tastes, and how hazy those brown eyes look right after—

Nope. Not going there. They went there last night and it was obviously a mistake, because now all he can think off is how Stiles had looked with a smirk on his lips, peeling off his uniform while Toxic blared through the speakers.

Derek curses silently. His chances of getting through this flight without an inappropriate boner are not looking too good, and they’re only two hours in. Getting on the same flight as his boyfriend had seemed like a nice idea, at the time. They couldn’t really spend the sixteen hours it took to get from LAX to Melbourne, together, but Stiles has been home so little the past two months that even this seemed better than nothing. At the time.

Then, because the universe hates Derek, Stiles picks up the phone to talk to the pilot. With the azure blue of the uniform, the way Stiles leans against the wall and that ridiculous cap on his messy brown hair, Derek’s mind starts combining last night with Britney Spears’ music video. Derek bites on the insides of his cheeks and close his eyes in an attempt to stop a giggle from bursting free. It doesn’t work. Closing his eyes has only helped to conjure up images of Stiles in a red wig, and when he opens them again the elderly lady next to him has an alarmed look on her face.

Derek furiously rubs at his eyes to dispel the images. Maybe work will distract him enough that he won’t make an idiot of himself and have people think they’re locked in with a crazy person for the next fourteen hours. He jams his glasses on his nose, tucks a pen behind is ear, and tries to focus on the manuscript before him.

Despite Derek’s best efforts he can’t help but look up every time he hears Stiles’ voice. Stiles is a great flight attendant, he smiles at everyone, even the assholes who press the call-button every two minutes. There’s nothing funny or sexy about any of it, but with Stiles’ uniform now irrevocably linked to Britney Spears in Derek’s mind, everything Stiles does becomes ridiculous and pornographic at the same time.

Stiles is to Derek’s right, on the other side of the cabin, when he helps a girl get her bag from the overhead compartment. The noise Derek makes is somewhere between a groan and a snort. Stiles turns around and raises his eyebrows at the sound.

Oh fuck.

Derek slides down in his seat, hiding behind his papers, blush rising to his cheeks. He tries to keep in his nervous laughter, but the looks on Lydia’s face as she walks past him, and the elderly lady’s next to him, tell him he’s looking slightly deranged.

As a last resort, Derek digs his phone out of his bag and jams the earbuds in his ears, turning up the volume as high as it goes. It takes him longer than usual to get into the mind-set of editing, but when he finally does, he doesn’t notice time has passed until Lydia taps him on the shoulder to hand him his dinner.

After dinner, Derek decides it’s past time for a bathroom break. He’s thinking of extra notes to add to the chapter he just edited, when someone tugs on his arms and pulls him aside, out of view from the other passengers. Derek almost shouts in surprise.

‘Hey,’ Stiles says, softly. ‘You okay? Lydia said you seemed a little off at the beginning of the flight.’

‘I’m fine,’ Derek assures him, sliding his hand into Stiles’ and squeezing softly.

‘Are you sure, because your ears are turning red?’ Stiles smirks, concern replaced by amusement.

‘I couldn’t stop thinking about last night, okay?’ Derek grits out, his cheeks heating up too, now. ‘I’ve had that damn song stuck in my head for the past couple hours and with that uniform—‘

Stiles smirks, and touches his cap briefly. ‘You want an encore?’

‘No,’ Derek hisses. ‘You are never doing that in your own uniform again.’

Stiles steps closer, eyes hooded, his smirk turning hungry. ‘Would you prefer another uniform? Cop? Nurse? French maid?’

Derek groans softly and pushes Stiles away from him, just a couple inches. It was either that or grab Stiles and push him against the hull of the plain to kiss him stupid.

No more uniforms.’

‘Hmm,’ Stiles hums, like he’s already making plans to the contrary. ‘Well,’ Stiles’ hungry grin mellows a little, ‘I suppose I should let you use the bathroom now, unless…’

Derek pulls the door closed on Stiles’ waggling eyebrows and bright golden eyes. He rests his forehead against the door, smiling at the faint chuckle from the other side.

Back in his seat, Derek tries to do a little more editing, but gives up after only a page. Other passengers are settling in to sleep, and Derek decides to do the same. He doesn’t usually sleep much on planes, not able to get comfortable with so many strangers surrounding him. Tonight is no different, and it doesn’t take him long to conclude that playing Candy Crush is preferable to mindlessly staring out the window.

Stiles drops into the empty seat next to him barely three levels later.

‘Can’t sleep?’ Stiles asks, his smile sympathetic. Stiles knows about Derek’s sleeping habits like no other. He also knows that Derek is very jealous of Stiles’ ability to sleep anywhere, in almost any position.

Derek shakes his head. ‘Thank god for Candy Crush.’

‘Or you could watch a movie with me? We’ve got—’Stiles scrolls through the options on the little screen in front of Derek‘—all of the most terrible romantic comedies from last year, and… Frozen and Inside Out.

‘Shouldn’t you be working?’ Derek really wants to say yes, but he doesn’t want Stiles to get in trouble either.

‘Lydia and Allison know where I am if they need me.’

‘Then I’d love to watch Inside Out with you.’

Stiles throws him a brilliant smile, and gets up to get a pair of headphones for himself. They watch the movie with Stiles half in Derek’s lap so they can watch on the same screen. With Stiles pressed so closely against his side, Derek is paying more attention to his boyfriend than the movie. He can’t remember a single thing that’s happened when it’s over, just that he had to thumb away tears from Stiles’ cheeks.

‘You want some food before the next one?’ Stiles asks, his voice a little thick from the tears.

‘Sure.’ Derek presses a quick kiss against Stiles’ cheek before Stiles gets up.

This time they choose a comedy called Man Up. Derek thinks it doesn’t look too bad and actually tries to pay attention this time.

Stiles’ leg is comfortably pressing against Derek’s, and their hands lie intertwined on Derek’s leg. Derek slouches in his seat to rest his head on Stiles’ shoulder. He’s so warm and comfortable, he doesn’t notice he’s falling asleep. Neither does he notice when Stiles rubs his cheek against Derek’s hair, and then falls asleep himself.


‘Hey, big guy, wake up,’ Stiles says. Derek blinks open his eyes to find Stiles smiling at him, eyes cloudy from sleep. Stiles brushes a hand through Derek’s hair. ‘I gotta get back to work.’

‘Right.’ Derek lifts his head off Stiles’ shoulder, his nose brushing against Stiles’, then quickly moves forward to press a kiss against Stiles’ lips. ‘How long till we land?’

‘Only a couple more hours. I’ll see you then.’

Derek nods, and with only a small pang of regret lets go of Stiles’ hand. He watches Stiles go, fully aware of the fond smile on his face.

‘Must be nice to have your boyfriend working on the flight you’re on,’ the lady on the other side of the aisle says. She must’ve decided Derek is a normal person, after all.

‘It is,’ Derek nods. Being on the same flight as Stiles turned out be amazing. He’s still never letting Stiles strip for him in any uniform again, though.