Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“All I’m saying is don’t be a hypocrite!” Lydia gives him the kind of look that would have made him wet himself when they were still in highschool, but Stiles just rolls his eyes.

“I’m not!” 

“Oh, you so are! You harped on your dad until he damn near went vegan, and here you are eating burgers six days out of the week.” She shuts the faucet off, dumping her freshly washed strawberries into a perfectly white bowl.

Stiles, sitting at the kitchen counter, glares at Lydia with his best don’t tell me what to do face on. “I’m young and healthy! I should be able to eat as I please.”

“Sure, if you want to die of a coronary at the ripe old age of 30.” Allison grins, emerging from her bedroom. She makes a beeline for the coffee as Stiles gawks at her.

“Et tu, Brute?” Stiles gasps, and she giggles. 

“Lydia has a point. It wouldn’t kill you to eat more vegetables. Or, you know, cook .” Allison says it like the word is scandalous, but he can’t find it in him to be mad at her when her pajamas have sushi rolls on them. It’s just freaking adorable.

Stiles shrugs.

“You two already get me up at the ass crack of dawn on a Saturday to go antiquing ,” he manages to say antiquing like one might say murdering tiny children , “can’t you let me have this one piece of my life?” 

It’s Lydia’s turn to roll her eyes. “It’s 9am, dumbass. And you asked to come.”

“My FOMO is well-known, Lyd. You took advantage of me!” 

“Eat some strawberries and calm the hell down, Stiles.” Scott pipes up, smiling at Allison as she joins him on the couch. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Stiles hits back reflexively, but he reaches for the bowl. 

Despite his played up reluctance, Stiles loves mornings like these. Allison and Lydia’s decision to get an apartment together was frankly brilliant. Two of his best friends living together made hanging out simple -- except it was more like all of them living together, because Scott and Malia were here more often than not(Malia was here this morning, but if any of them save for Lydia tried to wake her before 11am on a weekend, they’d get murdered). 

And then Stiles bites into a strawberry and his brain bluescreens.

Because holy shit , this is the best fucking thing he’s ever tasted, and he chokes back a practically pornographic moan that has Lydia giving him a weird look. 

“Holy shit.” Stiles says. “That’s really fucking good.” 

Lydia smiles. “Yeah, there’s a great farmstand up the road that sells them. And, you know, vegetables.” 

Stiles ignores the jab in favor of grabbing more strawberries. “I would very much like to marry whoever grew these,” he tells Lydia around a mouthful, who just rolls her eyes and walks off to get ready for antiquing. 

Stiles groans again. 

“Dude, if you keep making porn noises in front of my girlfriend, it’s gonna get weird in here.” Scott says. 

Stiles finishes Lydia’s strawberries when they come back from antiquing, not even bothering to listen to Lydia tell Malia all about the lamp she bought. When Lydia looks up and sees the empty bowl, she just sighs.

“Really, Stiles?” 

“You wanted me to eat healthy, Lydia!” Stiles reminds her.

Thirty seconds later, Stiles is starting up Roscoe to replace Lydia’s strawberries. Perhaps some fear of Lydia is appropriate, for self-preservation purposes. He really needs to keep that in mind. 

The farmstand isn’t hard to find. A simple wooden sign, paint worn, says in black block letters HALE FAMILY FARMSTAND , and Stiles turns on his blinker and pulls in. Roscoe really doesn’t care for the potholes in the dirt parking lot, groaning loudly as Stiles shifts the Jeep into park. There’s only one other car in the lot, and behind the small shed that is the farmstand, there’s a red truck parked. 

Stiles finds the strawberries easily, grabs a carton for Lydia and a second for himself(to be devoured in the three minute long drive back to Lydia’s place). Bless California growing seasons for keeping produce cheap, because Stiles has a feeling he’ll be developing an addiction to these strawberries. He thinks about just getting the strawberries, but Stiles knows Lydia well enough to know she’ll wear him down on the eating healthier thing. He may as well find a place that sells good vegetables, and this looks like it could be it. 

The elderly lady in the shed with him finishes paying for her produce and loads an assortment of vegetables into a canvas tote, and then Stiles is alone in the farmstand. It’s strangely peaceful, and it smells like pinewood and soil in the best way possible. 

Everything looks good, and Stiles fights the urge to spend his entire paycheck on produce he’s never actually tried. The zucchini looks especially promising, and he’s still got his recipe for vegetarian enchiladas memorized, so he runs through it in his head and shops accordingly. 

Stiles is actually very proud of himself for how closely he sticks to his impromptu list, only wavering when he discovers the fresh-baked bread in the box next to the checkout counter. Who could really blame him, though? It’s bread . 

He’s paid and is trying to figure out how to carry everything to the car in one trip(no bags at the farmstand, he realizes too late, and he certainly doesn’t have one, but like hell he’s making two trips), when a voice interrupts his scheming.

“Do you need some help, Mister?” 

Stiles whirls around, startled, only to be met with a pair of huge green eyes on a tiny girl. She looks about six years old and is staring at him with the most earnest, warm expression.

“Um,” Stiles says, very gracefully. He does need help, but he has no idea where this child came from, and besides that he tends to frown on child labor. 

“I work here.” The girl tells him, which just confuses him more(again, child labor. Bad.), but  then he realizes that she’s wearing a little stick on name tag, which proudly declares in very clearly childish handwriting that her name is Ellie Hale. “Can I help you?” Ellie prompts, and Stiles blinks again. A Hale, so her parents probably own the farmstand. So it’s probably not kidnapping if she walks to his car and back, and Stiles should probably be better with kids, because he’s a Trusted Adult or whatever, and he should definitely say something instead of staring at the girl like she’s got two heads.

“Sure,” Stiles remembers to smile, and Ellie’s grin widens. She takes the strawberry cartons, and with those secure Stiles can easily handle the rest. 

“Your car is blue ?” Ellie lights up.

“Yeah! This is Roscoe!” Stiles may not be good with kids, but he can certainly talk about his Jeep.

“Blue is my daddy’s favorite color.” Ellie tells him, very serious, and Stiles nods. He manages to get the passenger door open without dropping anything in his hands, and once he’s put everything down he takes the strawberries from Ellie. “I like Roscoe.” she says. Stiles grins.

“Me too, kiddo.” 

“EL! Where’d you go?” From around the shed, the most gorgeous man Stiles has ever seen in his life appears. He’s wearing jeans and a dirt-smattered white t-shirt, and his tan skin and dark hair make him look like some kind of model. The fact that he’s jacked makes him look like some kind of god.

“Daddy!” Ellie calls, and yeah, that makes sense. Stiles had parked close enough to the farmstand that Ellie’s dad makes it to them in just a few long strides. Up close, the man is just… more perfect. Annoyingly perfect. Stiles can see where Ellie gets her vibrant green eyes, and his beard is perfectly maintained. 

“Ellie, what have I said about running off?” Adonis says, and Stiles is snapped back into the moment. 

“Well, to not do that.” Ellie says. Stiles bites back a surprised laugh at the sass in her tone, and her dad lifts an eyebrow. “But you also said to always help people if I can, and he needed help!” Ellie gestures to Stiles, and her father looks at him as if noticing Stiles’ existence for the first time. Stiles offers a lopsided grin. 

Ellie’s dad gives Stiles an analytical glance, and then looks back at his daughter. She stares at him, unwavering, and finally he sighs. “Next time, say something before you disappear.”

Ellie grins, apparently victorious. 

“We gotta get home, El. Say bye and let’s get going, okay?” Ellie’s dad says.

“Bye, Mister!” Ellie smiles at Stiles.

“Stiles,” he tells her, realizing he never told her his name. 

“Bye, Mister Stiles!” Ellie corrects, and Stiles laughs.

“Bye, Ellie, thank you for your help.” 

Faster than a jackrabbit, the little girl grabs her dad by the hand and drags him back towards the farmstand. As Stiles circles around to the driver’s side, he overhears Ellie excitedly talking. “Did you see his car, Daddy? It’s blue !”

Her father laughs as they walk away. “I saw, El.”

Stiles finds himself grinning as he starts up Roscoe.

The enchiladas are easily the best he’s ever made, and he just barely stops himself from eating the entire loaf of bread on the first day. Thus it is actually surprising that Stiles makes it through to Wednesday before returning to the farmstand. This time, he stops on his way home from work, still wearing his brown deputy jacket. In a rare moment of organization, he’d thought far enough ahead to throw a couple of tote bags in the back of the Jeep. 

Again, the farmstand is relatively quiet. A couple is buckling their kids back into the car as Stiles gets out, but besides that, he’s alone. 

Stiles grabs the strawberries first, pulling out the little list he’d made. He knows himself well enough to know that if he ever comes here without a list, he’ll go broke. Probably because of the strawberries. 

The shopping is easy and Stiles is pulling out his wallet when he hears the roll of tires. There’s no one pulling into the lot, but through the back window he can see the red truck that he thinks belongs to Ellie’s dad. Which is totally not a creepy thing to know, it was a natural assumption, and it definitely didn’t mean he’d spent any time at all daydreaming about green eyes. Not at all.

The slam of a car door and the patter of tiny feet are all the warning he gets before a tiny blur surgically attaches itself to his leg. Ellie grins up at him. “Hi, Mister Stiles!” 

He laughs, allowing her to slide down so she’s sitting on his foot, arms wrapped like a vice around his leg. “Hi, Miss Ellie!” 

“My daddy said he likes your car!” Ellie tells him, and the childish importance with which she relays this information is nothing short of adorable.

“Aw, well that’s very nice of him! Will you tell him thank you?” 

Ellie nods. “He also said you seemed nice,  but that’s probably just ‘cause I told him you are.” She squints up at Stiles, and then seems to notice his clothing. “Are you a police?” Ellie gasps. 

Stiles nods. “Yeah, kiddo! I’m a deputy.” He realizes as he says it that that probably doesn’t mean anything to the six-year-old. Is there a class you can take on interacting with kids? He really needs to talk to Allison. 

“My daddy says I can trust police.” 

“That’s right! If you ever need help, we’re adults that you can call if your daddy or mommy isn’t around.” That much, Stiles knows from training. 

Ellie frowns. “You mean if my daddy isn’t around?” She looks confused, and Stiles realizes she’s never mentioned her mother.

“Um, yeah.” He says gracefully, and she smiles again.

“Okay!” 

Stiles hums, not quite sure what to say now. He pays quickly but leaves his bags on the counter. One look at Ellie, still sitting on his foot, and he just laughs to himself and starts walking(well, dragging one suspiciously giggly leg) around to the back of the shed where he’d seen the red truck pull up. Her father is unloading boxes of romaine lettuce, and he doesn’t see Stiles or Ellie right away.

“I believe this belongs to you?” Stiles calls, trying to make his voice sound cool and suave and conversational.

Ellie’s dad looks up, confused, and then he sees Ellie waving from her seat on Stiles’ foot and his expression turns into something like loving exasperation. “Ellie, what are you doing?” 

“Hitchin’ a ride,” Stiles answers for her, grinning, and once again, the man looks at Stiles like he’s just realizing Stiles is there. Stiles would be offended, probably should be offended, but he thinks it’s got less to do with him and more to do with how much Ellie’s dad obviously loves his daughter and that’s just… that’s just adorable, frankly.

Ellie’s dad walks towards them. “I knew she was attached to you, I didn’t realize it was literal.” His dry humor is cut by the rush that is Ellie’s gorgeous dad talking to Stiles for the first time, eye contact and all, and Stiles kind of can’t breathe, because this man is gorgeous . 

Stiles manages a shrug, brain trying to reboot long enough to access the conversational skills he’s pretty sure he used to have. 

Ellie saves him before he can do something stupid like propose. “Daddy, he’s a police!” she declares, tightening her grip. 

Ellie’s dad eyes the deputy jacket Stiles wears. “I can see that, honey,” he says. 

“So he’s a friend, Daddy!” Ellie tells her father, as if he should obviously know that. He laughs, and again, Stiles finds himself struggling for air.

“Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Friend To Ellie, at your service,” Stiles gives a mock salute and immediately realizes how stupid that entire sentence was. He drops his hand, but Ellie seems to have liked it and laughs gleefully below him. 

For his stupidity, Ellie’s dad gives him half a smile. It’s better than no smile, and Stiles grins. 

“Pssst,” Ellie stage-whispers. “Daddy. Tell him your name.” They can both hear her, and her father flushes slightly.

“Right. Sorry. Um, Derek. Derek Hale.” He wipes his hand on his jeans before extending it to Stiles, cheeks still tinged pink.

Stiles takes it, and tries to ignore the way his stomach swoops. 

Ellie’s dad - Derek - squeezes Stiles’ hand once before he drops it, and Stiles inhales. 

Derek glances down at his daughter. “Honey, give your friend his foot back please.” 

With an exaggerated sigh, Ellie disengages her grip on Stiles and stands. 

“I should get going,” Stiles says. He should get going, though he finds he wants to do the opposite. “Bye, Miss Ellie,” he holds out a fist and she bumps it with her tiny one, smiling.

“Bye, Mister Deputy Stiles!” 

He lets himself glance up at Derek. “Bye, Derek.”

“Bye, Stiles,” Derek responds, but he holds Stiles’ eye contact for a few more seconds. Stiles is the one to look away as he turns.

The butterflies in his stomach are doing backflips, and he twitches his fingers, where he swears he can still feel the warmth of Derek's hand.

Chapter Text

Lydia is all too pleased with Stiles’ new twice weekly farmstand habit. He lets her gloat, because he feels silly admitting that every time he goes, he’s waiting for the roll of truck tires behind the shed. He’s just trying to eat healthier. There’s no flash of disappointment every time he gets back in his car without a glimpse of green eyes; of course there isn’t. 

The rest of May and much of June pass without excitement; things are quiet at the sheriff’s station and everyone in Stiles’ life is happy and healthy. There is no great trouble; everything is as it should be. Yet for some reason, Stiles feels wrong . He shouldn’t. He loves his job, he has great friends, his dad is healthy and enjoying retirement. And still he feels itchy all over, like suddenly his skin is too small. It’s insane and it doesn’t make any sense, but it’s like there’s a hole that’s opened up in his life, and he doesn’t know how to fill it.

And of course, Allison is the one to call him on it. She’s always the one who notices, because she’s Allison and she’s the best, so it really shouldn’t surprise Stiles when she shows up at his apartment with a bottle of the good vodka and a questioning look in her eyes. 

It barely takes two drinks for Stiles to spill the beans.

“It’s so stupid , Allie! I’ve met this man twice and he’s… all I think about. Like literally, that’s it. I can’t focus on work because Parrish has this air freshener in his car that kind of smells like Derek and any time I’m in his cruiser I fucking lose my mind! It’s so stupid.” He moans, and she pours him another.

“It’s not stupid, Stiles, it’s sweet.”

“Sweet? He touched my hand and I swear it was like electricity. Derek’s  turned me into you and Scott in highschool, is what he’s done! It’s gross.” Stiles downs his shot and rests his head back against the couch. 

Allison rolls her eyes goodnaturedly. “Have you considered asking him out?”

Stiles stares at her. “I’ve met him twice ,” he stresses. “And he has a kid, and I don’t even know if he likes guys, and I’ve ONLY MET HIM TWICE!” Allison laughs, and he gasps like she’s stabbed him. “Laugh at my pain, why don’t you?”

“Sorry,” she says, in a way that tells Stiles she’s not even a little bit sorry. “Just… you described to me in over five minutes of detail the exact shade of green his eyes are. So maybe it doesn’t matter that you’ve only met him twice. Don’t you believe in fate?” 

That, at least, gives Stiles pause. Does he believe in fate? As a teenager, he definitely would’ve said so - he was convinced that he and Lydia were meant to be, after all. But years and experiences have changed him, hardened him, and maybe he doesn’t anymore. The world is so big, so much bigger than he thought it was, and he has so little control, so how could any greater force be pulling the strings? And he and Lydia were clearly not meant to be, given that she liked girls. 

“I don’t know,” he confesses. 

“Well I do,” Allison says earnestly, “and I think you should at least ask Derek out. You never know what might happen.”

Stiles shrugs, the vodka starting to hit him. “Maybe I would’ve, except I haven’t seen him in like a month.”

“Next time you see him, then.” 

Stiles hums a noncommittal noise and Allison pours them both another drink, and the conversation moves on. 

Of course, because fate(whether it exists or not) is a cruel mistress, a red truck is waiting for Stiles when he pulls into the farmstand parking lot a few days later. He never actually said he would ask Derek out, so he doesn’t owe Allison anything, but his heart rate speeds up anyway. 

Play it cool, Stilinski , he thinks, and tries to ignore the shake in his hands as he walks into the farmstand. It’s a Wednesday in the belly of June, in the heat of the day(one of his admittedly rare days off), so it’s not surprising that he’s the only one here. 

As he’s examining this week’s zucchini crop, he hears footfalls coming from around back.

Be cool be cool be cool be cool be cool-

Stiles looks up, expecting green eyes, and instead is met with brown. The girl standing there is covered in flour, wearing an apron, and holding a basket full of the loaves of bread he loves so dearly. He gives her a small smile and ducks his head, focusing maybe too intently on the produce in front of him as his mind wanders. Is she Derek’s girlfriend? Is she a Hale? Is he totally crazy for caring? The answer to the last question is beyond a  yes, he knows this.

When he steals a glance back at her, she’s smirking slightly as she restocks the bread. She’s pretty, even covered in flour and smudges of what he thinks is chocolate on her cheeks.

Stiles picks out two zucchini at random, realizing he’s been standing there way too long to be normal, and heads over to look at the lettuce. When he tries to catch another sneaky glimpse, she’s looking at him, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. What he does not expect is for his name to come out of her mouth. 

“Stiles, right?” She asks, smiling, and he blinks dumbly.

“Um, yeah,” he manages to say.

She laughs. “Sorry, that was totally creepy of me. I’m Cora Hale,” she walks over and offers her hand, and he takes it, still having no idea what the hell is going on. A Hale, though. So Derek’s sister, then? Stiles bites back the relief he feels. Insane. He’s insane. “Ellie’s a big fan of yours!” Cora grins, and Stiles’ brain jumpstarts. Ellie . Ellie Hale, Derek’s daughter and the only child to ever like Stiles. 

Stiles thinks of something relevant to say. And thinks. And thinks. “She’s a great kid,” he offers, and Cora’s widening smile tells him he’s done well enough, and he relaxes ever so slightly. Cora gives him the same analytical once over that Derek had given him the first time they’d met(he sees it now, the familial similarity), and Stiles shifts under the pressure. “So, um, you bake the bread?” At Cora’s nod, he continues. “That’s awesome! I love that bread.”

“I’ve been thinking about doing other baked goods - you know, muffins, scones, the lot, but it seems like maybe it’s too much work for the level of interest.” Cora says, more like she’s thinking out loud than actually talking to Stiles. 

He responds anyway. “No, no, do it! Your stuff is beyond amazing. Although I might go broke,” he jokes, and she laughs. 

“Well, I’m glad someone’s a fan! I just pulled these out of the oven an hour ago.” She gestures back at the freshly filled bread basket by the checkout counter. “Take one on the house.” Cora smiles, and Stiles could honestly kiss her. He won’t, but her bread is that good. 

She turns to leave, and before he can think better of it, Stiles blurts out, “How’d you know it was me?” 

Cora stops on the ramp, turning back to him.

“Well, Ellie said you were a deputy, and I’ve never seen anyone else from the Sheriff's office here,” she tells him, gesturing at his deputy’s jacket he’s still wearing. Oh, right. That makes sense. Cora keeps walking. “Besides,” she calls out over her shoulder, “my brother was very descriptive.”

With that, Cora is gone, and Stiles stares after her dumbly. What the fuck does that mean?

Chapter Text

The next three weeks after meeting Cora Hale are so jam-packed that Stiles only gets to the farmstand once, and he’s there for barely five minutes. 

Scott and Allison get engaged(yay!), which everyone saw coming but is still incredibly exciting. The restlessness and wrongness Stiles has been feeling is somewhat appeased by being able to celebrate two of his best friends with all the people he loves. Scott made the mistake of popping the question without informing Lydia ahead of time, and she bullies Stiles(not really, because he’d have said yes even if she’d just asked nicely) into helping her plan a surprise engagement party just a week after the big proposal. He spends the first week of July running between florists and work and bakeries and work and Lydia’s apartment, and between doing all of that and keeping it secret from Scott and Allison, he’s basically dead for a week after the party goes off without a hitch. 

Even in all of the hustle and bustle of the last few weeks, Cora’s words have been playing on a loop in his mind. My brother was very descriptive , she’d said. Allison took it as good, Derek-is-also-pining-for-you news, but Stiles was skeptical. It could be that, sure, but it was also possible that Derek had spent the time to tell his sister all about the dorky, socially awkward deputy his daughter had befriended. 

That second option was actually probably more likely, given the less-than-stellar social skills Stiles had displayed in their two meetings. It really isn’t Stiles’ fault that Derek’s whole face is so pretty that it kind of just shuts down Stiles’ executive functioning skills. 

So Stiles’ first time meeting Cora Hale haunted his July days, and his July nights were spent dreaming about green eyes. He’s turning into a lovesick sap. Really, it’s just downright creepy. More than ever, Stiles wants to buy into Allison’s faith in fate, because then he’s not creepy and he’s just following his destiny. 

If his destiny looks like a Greek god and laughs like a symphony, who is Stiles to question fate?

Stiles thinks about Derek so much that he starts thinking he’s seeing him around town. So much so that when he walks past the cereal aisle in the grocery store and sees Derek there, he keeps walking. 

He makes it to the condiments before his brain catches up with him and he stops dead in the aisle, the shopper behind him very nearly walking straight into him. 

He turns on his heel and walks back, and when he peers around the Lucky Charms display, Derek is actually there. 

Like really standing in front of Stiles, and it’s been like six weeks, and he should not be this excited because he still hardly knows the man. Stiles is trying to figure out a natural way to walk up to someone he hardly knows, but he doesn’t get the chance. 

Like it’s in slow motion and from one of Stiles’ social anxiety-fueled nightmares, Derek turns, a box of cereal in his hand, and makes eye contact with Stiles, who is still staring at Derek like a total creep. And if Derek didn’t think Stiles was totally freaky before, he definitely does now. And fate, if it exists, sucks . 

Stiles takes the only option available to him and bolts, seeking refuge among the pasta. He’s halfway to pulling out his phone and finding the nearest monastery to spend the rest of his days at(he could pull off the whole monk thing, he thinks), but Derek appears, and Stiles freezes like a deer in headlights.

“Um, hi,” Derek says, and the awkwardness is palpable and Stiles is thinking this would be a good time for California to just fall into the sea(he would also take a black hole, or a sudden onset of invisibility), and Derek is speaking and Stiles is trying to listen but his heart is pounding so loudly he can barely hear it when Derek says “sorry, I’m just… I’m a bit out of my depth here.” 

And Stiles just smiles(he hopes it’s a smile, he can’t really feel his face), because he doesn’t know what Derek means. 

“Just, Cora’s been teasing me since she met you - sorry, by the way, for her - and I’d worked up the nerve but then I never saw you at the farmstand, so.” Derek trails off like he’s said anything Stiles has followed, and Stiles stares at him. Derek sighs and shifts his feet. “Do you drink coffee?” Derek asks, and flushes red. “I mean, do you want to drink coffee? With me? Do you want to drink coffee with me on a date?” And Derek is so red that he looks like a Hale Family tomato, and Stiles stares some more, and then Stiles does the unthinkable and laughs . 

And oh God, he is really blowing this. Derek’s halfway gone when Stiles manages to control himself. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. Derek, please wait.” he says, and Derek turns back to him but doesn’t walk any closer, still totally red and looking like he would very much like to be anywhere else, and Stiles kind of feels like shit for laughing but he’s too high on Cloud Nine to wallow in that. 

“I really am sorry for laughing,” Stiles manages to say. “It’s just… I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for like two months.” Derek’s eyes widen, and a small smile creeps up on his face. Stiles keeps going. “And it’s really not funny but you have no idea how nervous I’ve been and how silly I’ve felt, and I just… what I mean to say is yes. Yes, I would like that very much.” 

Derek’s grinning now, and so is Stiles -- so much so that his cheeks hurt, but he really can’t bring himself to care. 

“Um, what are you doing tomorrow at noon?” Stiles asks. It’s probably lame to ask about tomorrow , he should play it cool, but the thing is he really doesn’t want to.

“Getting coffee with you.” Derek answers, and Stiles’ stomach does a little backflip at the earnest way Derek says it. 

“Well, you’re gonna need my number then,” Stiles says, and Derek laughs.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

They swap numbers. Stiles eyes the Cinnamon Toast Crunch box tucked under Derek’s arm. “You’ve got good taste,” he says, gesturing to the cereal box.

Derek gives Stiles a once-over glance and says, “I know,” in a way that knocks the breath from Stiles’ lungs. 

“I meant the cereal,” Stiles chokes out, sure that he’s beet red at this point, and Derek is laughing, and it’s probably the most beautiful sound Stiles has ever heard.

“I know,” Derek says again, smiling. “It’s actually for Ellie. Isaac introduced Ellie to Cinnamon Toast Crunch and now she’s obsessed and going through like two boxes a week.” 

“Isaac?” Stiles asks, lost.

“Oh, um, Isaac is my foster kid,” Derek explains. “He’s a great kid - he’s just so funny, and you shoulda seen him and Ellie when they first met and she was still in diapers. It was like havin’ two toddlers, the pair of them.” And Stiles can tell that Derek is a little bit guarded about this, because Derek is a young guy and Stiles imagines people can be pretty judgemental, but every time Derek opens his mouth Stiles finds himself falling further in love with him and he just feels warm. 

Derek just kind of glows when he’s talking about his kid - kids , Stiles realizes - and Stiles’ heart feels like it could burst. And this guy is gorgeous and he’s funny and he has a fucking foster kid because apparently someone looked at Stiles’ blueprints for his ideal man and popped out Derek Hale.

Stiles smiles. “That’s adorable. Bet they’re a handful; Ellie by herself is such a little spitfire.”

Derek lights up and starts telling a story about Ellie when she was four, and Stiles listens, and he’s an hour late to Lydia’s for dinner that night and doesn’t even care, because he stood in the pasta aisle talking to Derek Hale for that whole time and it felt like seconds.

It felt, he realizes, like fate.

Lydia, Allison and Malia assemble in his room the next morning, bright and early( too early , Malia whines, but she snuggles up to Lydia and dozes there anyways), to serve as a focus group for Stiles’ potential outfits. Scott would’ve come, but Lydia said he’d be absolutely no help and Stiles wasn’t exactly eager to disagree. 

The girls, however, are incredibly effective. When Stiles walks into Full Moon Cafe(turns out he and Derek have the same favorite coffee joint), he’s dressed in a tight (“but not so tight it’s not classy”) forest green V-neck(“green brings out your eyes, Stiles”) and the jeans that Allison says make his ass look great. 

And it’s strange, but he’s really not nervous. He should be, because this feels important. 

Stiles can’t describe it, doesn’t fully understand it himself. He just knows that this is a first date that matters , and yet it feels like he doesn’t need to worry. Like it’s going to be something regardless, and he doesn’t have to try to be anything other than himself. It’s incredibly cheesy and Malia laughs at him when he tries to say it out loud, but Allison smiles. “That’s how it felt with Scott,” she’d told him.

But then he locks eyes with Derek, and Derek stands with a smile, walking over to meet him, and Stiles suddenly forgets to think about anything except for the way that Derek’s eyes sparkle and holy shit is his mouth dry.

“Hi,” Derek says, and Stiles has to remind his brain to speak. 

“Hi,” Stiles says.

Derek grabs his hand like it’s normal, laces their fingers together like it’s something he’s done every day for years, and Stiles feels it again. That brief flash of electricity that make the butterflies in his stomach dance like they’re at a rave. 

Stiles takes a breath and forces his brain to go back online. “You look amazing,” he says, which is beyond an understatement. Derek flushes, red disappearing under the collar of the navy blue henley he’s wearing, and smiles. 

“Look who’s talking,” he murmurs, and before Stiles can respond to that, Derek tugs on his hand and leads him back to the table Derek had been sitting at.

Derek pulls Stiles’ chair out for him, and yeah, Stiles might faint. A little bit. 

He’s barely sat down across from Stiles when a blonde girl in a Full Moon Cafe apron approaches them, and Stiles grins up at her. “Hey, Erica,” he says, and the teen smiles.

“Hi, Stiles.” she glances at Derek and confusion flashes across her face, but her smile comes back quickly. “Hi, Derek.” Derek waves. “You both want your usuals?” Erica asks, and when they both nod she’s off.

“How do you know Erica?” Stiles asks.

“She’s Isaac’s best friend,” and then it clicks for Stiles and his jaw drops.

“Isaac Lahey ?” He says, and he’d be more embarrassed about the octave his voice just reached if he wasn’t so busy having his mind blown. Derek’s eyebrows furrow and then shoot up into his hairline.

“ You’re Deputy Stilinski?!” And yep, Derek’s voice seems to have found the same pitch. 

Stiles nods, too shocked to do much else. 

Isaac Lahey, one of the first cases he’d worked after he made deputy four years ago. The poor kid’s abusive father had just died and Isaac had no family, and Stiles did everything he could to help the kid find a good home in the system. He’d really adored Isaac, and they stayed in touch occasionally. After he’d started coming to Full Moon Cafe a year or so ago, Erica had recognized him from the nametag on his deputy’s uniform and surprised the hell out of him by hugging him. Apparently Isaac, her best friend, had told her how much Deputy Stilinski had done for him. 

Apparently, Stiles thinks, still blown away, he’d said the same to Derek. 

“Oh my God,” says Derek, and Stiles nods again, very much agreeing with the sentiment. “I can’t believe I didn’t make that connection sooner.”

“When you talked about Isaac in the store, I had no idea! I mean, he’s seventeen now, right?” Stiles asks, and he doesn’t mean it in a judgey “why would you foster an older kid at your age” way at all, but he can see the way that Derek’s posture changes and he curses himself internally. 

“Yeah,” Derek says, more guarded. “I got Isaac when I was 24, and I know that’s kind of young but I had a toddler and you know him, he’s such a great kid, and-”

“ Derek,” Stiles says, and he has to physically force himself not to kiss the babbling man before him. “Believe me when I tell you, you are one of the best people I have ever met and I think that is so fucking cool of you.” 

And Derek grins, and Stiles’ stomach flips again, and then Erica’s bringing their coffees over and Stiles gets a minute to compose himself while Derek begs Erica not to say anything to Isaac until he can do it himself. 

“Did Isaac ever tell you about the slushie incident?” Stiles asks, and Derek shakes his head. Stiles grins. “So after he got put into the system, Isaac ended up at this group home he hated” -- the look on Derek’s face is enough to tell Stiles he knows exactly the group home Stiles is referring to -- “and I felt really bad about it, so I was always taking him out for food and to that arcade he’s obsessed with, and this one time, he wanted slushies, right?” 

Derek nods, listening raptly as he sips his coffee. 

“So I take him to the corner store with the good slushies, you know the one, and he’s so busy chastising me for getting a cherry slushie when we get back in the car that he somehow totally misses the cupholder when he goes to put his down, and he drops it, and it fucking explodes all over my cruiser!” Stiles mimes an explosion with his hands, and Derek laughs.

Stiles gives an overdramatic sigh. “You can laugh, but I don’t think you understand how hard it is to clean blue raspberry slushie. I swear the cruiser still smells of the shit sometimes,” Stiles shakes his head, but he’s smiling and so is Derek. 

“Anyways, point being, he’s a great kid, and I hope you know how lucky you are.” Stiles says, and he means it, Isaac is just the best. 

“You have no idea,” Derek smiles. “My first Father’s Day with both Isaac and Ellie, he dressed himself and Ellie up in cheesy sunflower costumes and they gave me a bouquet of sunflowers.” Derek digs out his phone from his pocket and scrolls for a minute, his tongue peeking out between his teeth in a focused expression that is just so fucking cute Stiles could die, and then he’s showing Stiles the cutest photo he’s ever seen. 

Derek’s grinning into camera, arm around Isaac. Isaac is, as described, in a sunflower costume where his body is the plant and his head the flower, footlong yellow petals outshone by the giant grin on his face. Isaac is holding Ellie, in a matching costume, who looks about two and is staring up at Isaac. In his other hand, he’s holding up a posterboard that reads “Happy Father’s Day!” in pretty script. 

“That’s fucking adorable.” Stiles says. “Cora’s handwriting?” He’d seen her update the chalkboard in the farmstand that night, and good God is her handwriting perfect. 

Derek nods.

“By the way,” he probably shouldn’t kill the vibe, but he’s so curious and he’s finally got an in, “Cora said something very interesting when I met her.” Stiles gives Derek a knowing look and Derek flushes all the way down his neck as he’s putting his phone away.

“Please tell me it wasn’t too bad,” Derek groans.

Stiles shrugs. “Oh, no, really it was complimentary.” He doesn’t think that’s exactly true, but it wasn’t mean either, and Derek’s staring at Stiles like he expects to start planning his sister’s death any second now. “It’s just, she knew exactly who I was, and when I asked why, she said that you are apparently ‘ very descriptive ,’” Stiles grins in a way he hopes is flirty and not downright mean.

Derek groans again and drops his head into his hands, and Stiles stifles a laugh. “I’m gonna murder her,” Derek says, and this time Stiles doesn’t bother stifling it. He pats Derek’s head. 

“Don’t kill Cora, I love her bread.”

It’s Derek’s turn to laugh, and he lifts his head. He makes a face like he’s thinking hard and long about it. “Okay,” he says. “I guess, for you, I can resist my murderous tendencies.” 

Stiles laughs again, and his cheeks feel warm. 

Nearly two hours has gone by before Stiles knows it. Derek is funny and kind and he can talk about his kids for hours, and Stiles manages to dust off his conversationalist side and actually make Derek laugh several times, and as they’re walking out the door, he has no choice but to declare the date a rousing success. 

Derek walks him to Roscoe, holding hands, and it’s such an innocently perfect thing that Stiles could melt. Stiles, one hand on the driver’s door, turns to face Derek. It’s been hours, and Stiles has things to do today, and still he finds himself wishing he could stay here just a while longer. 

“Well,” Stiles says, smiling, “that was…” he doesn’t really know how to sum it up, but the look on Derek’s face tells him maybe he doesn’t have to. 

“I know,” Derek responds, and his grin matches Stiles. 

“I feel like we deserve some kind of award.” Derek cracks up at that. “No, I’m serious!” Stiles insists. “I laughed in your face when you tried to ask me out and we still managed to have the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“In your defense, I did a very bad job,” Derek tells him.

Stiles shrugs. “I thought it was pretty perfect.” He doesn’t realize that Derek has backed him up against the door of Roscoe until Derek pulls away slightly and Stiles is suddenly cold. 

“You know,” Derek says, cocking his head like he’s thinking. “We’re missing one very important piece of the perfect first date.”

Stiles tries and fails to control his thudding heart.”What?”

“This,” Derek whispers, and leans in. 

The kiss is soft, but it knocks the breath from Stiles anyways. Derek has one hand on Stiles’ jaw, the other on his hip, and Stiles’ hands on Derek’s chest grip at his shirt, tugging him closer, pulling Derek in for more, more, more. Derek tastes like black coffee and blueberry scone, and he smells like pinewood and soil in the best way possible. 

Derek pulls away first, but he doesn’t go far. Foreheads touching, Stiles can’t help the breathy laugh that leaves him. “Yeah,” he says, “we definitely deserve an award.”

Chapter Text

It’s not that Stiles is hiding Derek from his friends. He’s not. He’d be crazy to do that. His boyfriend is hot as hell and sweet and funny and Stiles is more than happy to brag to anyone who will listen that he pulled Derek. Because seriously, he’s still not totally sure how he managed that. 

Stiles is, however, definitely hiding his friends from Derek. He loves them all deeply, but they are a lot. Even he, with his biased view of them, knows that they can be way too much. 

Lydia is judgy and critical(out of love, but strangers never really seem to understand that). Scott tries way too hard to be a cool ally because he’s still such a lacrosse bro that he feels like he’s being homophobic if he breathes wrong around a gay couple(Lydia and Malia have had endless fun with this). Malia is frequently cranky and has never really seen a point in bothering with new people, now that she’s got a solid group. 

And he loves all his friends, he does, but he worries. Especially because of what he’s learned in getting to know Derek.

Maybe it shouldn’t have caught him so offguard, but Stiles was surprised when he learned that Derek is actually quite shy. Stiles, though perhaps socially inept at times(and certainly when it comes to Derek), generally considers himself very outgoing, and he sometimes forgets to account for Derek’s introversion. Thus, he’s maybe a little more nervous than he needs to be about introducing Derek to his friends, because Stiles really needs this to go well.

So he starts with Allison, because she is the most socially capable of their friend group and he can’t exactly hide them from Derek forever, especially with his birthday at the end of August. 

One of Stiles’ favorite things about dating Derek Hale is that he now gets to text Derek when he goes to the farmstand, and Derek will take a break from work to come see Stiles for however long Stiles can stay there(Roscoe, it turns out, is a perfect makeout location, if they find themselves alone in the parking lot). Sometimes, Ellie comes with Derek, which is also pretty awesome in Stiles’ opinion. 

Ellie seems to (mostly) understand what it means that Stiles and Derek are dating, although it took her a minute to get that Stiles didn’t automatically become her other dad if he kissed Derek(Derek pretty much invented a new shade of red to turn as Ellie worked that one out, which was hilarious).

So this time, he’s joined by Allison on his (at least) biweekly farmstand stop, and the second he swings open the door of Roscoe, a tiny flash nearly brains herself on the steering wheel as she launches into Stiles’ lap. 

“STILESSSS!!!!” Ellie squeals, hugging him. It’d taken him a little while to notice, but Ellie has the cutest baby lisp in the world. Derek has a little one too, though he’ll vehemently deny it, and Stiles absolutely adores it. Ellie is so excited about Stiles that it takes her a while to notice Allison, sitting in the passenger seat with an amused look on her face. 

Stiles’s heart absolutely melts into goo when Ellie leans against Stiles, head on his chest, suddenly slightly shy(“She’s a little shy around new women,” Derek had mentioned, “the only woman in her life right now is Cora,”). “Hi,” Ellie mumbles, the word slightly muffled by Stiles’s flannel. Allison isn’t fazed in the slightest.

“Hi!” she says, smiling wide and warm. “You must be Ellie! I’m Allison, Stiles’ friend. Stiles has told me so much about you!” Allison widens her eyes, feigning awe. “Is it true? Are you really a princess?” 

That pulls a giggle from Ellie, who shakes her head. “No,” she laughs.

Allison squints. “Are you sure ? You look like a princess! Princess Ellie Hale!” 

“No!” Ellie says, still laughing. “ Farmer Ellie Hale,” she corrects, and Allison is laughing too. 

“Okay, Princess Farmer Ellie Hale, can you give me a tour of the farmstand? I’ve never been here!” Allison has clearly won the little girl over, as Ellie forgets all about Stiles and hops out of Roscoe, coming around to Allison’s side to drag her out by the hand. They’re off to the farmstand, and Stiles is still smiling. That wasn’t so hard, he thinks, more confident in his choice to start with Allison and go from there. 

Stiles shakes his head, laughing to himself, and hops out. 

And then screams like a little girl, because Derek is leaning against the back door, grinning, and it scares the absolute shit out of Stiles. He stumbles back in his surprise and plops back down in the driver’s seat.

One hand on his heart to check that it’s resumed beating, Stiles lets his head fall against the headrest. “Holy shit,” he breathes. He can hear Derek cracking up, and then a slightly reddened, cackling Derek comes into view. “That wasn’t funny!” Stiles says, offended at how much Derek is laughing. 

“Yes, it was.” Derek wipes at his eyes and evidently tries to contain himself.

“Mean. Mean, and not funny.” Even as he says that, Stiles reaches for Derek. Derek, still giggling, obliges and ducks into the car, leaning in to press a kiss against Stiles’ pout. Before the kiss can deepen, however, Derek’s laughing returns. Stiles halfheartedly slaps his shoulder. “Not funny,” Stiles repeats. 

“It was a little funny,” Derek tells him, and kisses him again.

“Maybe a little. Maybe.” Stiles says, but he finds himself smiling despite his annoyance.

“You brought Allison?” Derek asks, stepping back far enough that Stiles can hop out of Roscoe. 

“Yep,” Stiles pops the “p” sound. “And she’s already replaced me as Ellie’s favorite person,” he grumbles. Derek grins. 

“Number two isn’t bad!” Derek laces their hands together as they head for the farmstand. “Although I did let her have a second bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch at breakfast today, so you might even be number three at this point, babe.” 

Stiles gasps. “You take that back! I’m not number three.” He can hear Allison and Ellie chatting, and the weight of having Derek meet his friends comes back. Stiles really does need this to go well.

Because he’s Derek, and because he probably has some sort of freaky Jedi mind trick abilities that he hasn’t told Stiles about, Derek stops and looks at Stiles. “I’m going to like your friends, you know. They’re your people and I certainly like you(yes, Stiles blushes at that), so I’ll like them too. And even if I didn’t, we’d make it work.” 

Stiles stares at him. “How the fuck did you do that?” he sputters.

Derek laughs. “It’s why I’m your number one person, right?” He walks on ahead of Stiles, and Stiles watches him go.

“Close your mouth and keep up, Ellie’s number three!” Derek calls. 

“Mean!” Stiles declares, but he follows Derek anyways. 

He catches up to Derek before Derek reaches the farmstand, and they walk in on quite a scene. 

Allison, standing on tiptoe, has Ellie on her shoulders, and Ellie is stretched up as far as she can, reaching for a frog that is breathing nervously in the top corner of the farmstand, just to the left of the entrance. 

Ellie and Allison both look over. “Daddy!” Ellie squeaks, and before anyone can react, the frog takes her moment of distraction to make a leap of faith from the corner. As if in slow motion, Stiles watches the frog’s descent. It goes down, down, down…

And lands squarely on top of Derek’s head. 

Stiles stares at Derek.

Derek stares back at Stiles.

Ellie stares at Derek.

Allison stares at Derek. 

Stiles moves very slowly, very carefully, to pull his phone out. 

Derek is giving him his best don’t fucking take a picture of this face, but Stiles does anyways, and he sends it to Cora immediately. 

The frog ribbits pitifully, and Stiles busts out laughing. 

As does Ellie, and Allison, and Derek tries to keep his I don’t like this frown on, but it cracks quickly. 

Stiles reaches up and scoops the frog into his cupped hands, still cracking up, and as soon as the frog is gone from his head Derek is laughing too. 

Stiles puts the frog on the floor, where Ellie kneels next to it to look at the frog up close. It hops past her, headed for the door, and Derek holds a hand out to Allison.

“Derek Hale,” he says, and she smiles her most warm, welcoming, kind Allison smile at him.

“Allison Argent. Nice to meet you, froghead.” 

And Stiles laughs again, because Derek is smiling his “my kid likes you and I like you and I’m not actively attempting to escape this social interaction” smile. 

His phone buzzes, and the name that Cora had given herself when she’d put her name in his phone still does make him giggle.

bread bitch: dude is that a frog? sick

bread bitch: i’m making this my lockscreen. he looks so displeased, i love it

Maybe it should really mean something, that this means so much. Maybe the fact that Derek liking his friends feels so, so important is something akin to fate, something telling him that Derek is going to be around for a long time. Stiles can’t be sure. He isn’t sure where he stands on fate. 

Hope , though, that he believes in. And he’s got it now. Looking at Derek and Allison and Ellie, feeling the joy in this farmstand, oh boy does he have it.

“So it’s a surprise party,” Derek says. It’s not a question, but Stiles hums a yes anyways.

“Except that you know about it.”

Another yes.

“And they know you know?” Derek asks, and Stiles grins. 

“My dad is just very bad at keeping secrets, so it started as a genuine surprise party attempt, back when I was still in highschool. I found out about it three years in a row, and finally they just gave up trying to hide it,  but they still jump out and yell Surprise every year,” Stiles explains.

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Derek deadpans, and Stiles giggles, shrugging. 

“It’s maybe a little bit dumb, but I love it.” 

They’re sitting in Roscoe, drinking milkshakes, and by Stiles’ best guess they have about an hour until he’s supposed to be at his “surprise” birthday party. His birthday is technically tomorrow, but in the true nature of a surprise party, the party is early to throw him off. Not that it ever has. Once. 

“Well, I know I’m early, but I still want to be the first person to say it. So happy birthday, Stiles.” Derek says, and he leans over and kisses Stiles. 

And Stiles can’t help but think that this is shaping up to be the best birthday he’s had in a long time. 

When Derek pulls away, Stiles makes a face. “You taste like vanilla milkshake,” he says, nose wrinkled, and Derek gives him an utterly unamused look. 

“Really?” 

“Vanilla milkshakes are NASTY, dude! We’ve been over this!” Stiles grumps, and Derek rolls his eyes(though Stiles can see him fighting a smile). 

“Yeah, and we’ve also been over you calling me dude , dude,” Derek huffs.

It’s Stiles’ turn to roll his eyes. “Oh, shut it. You’re just grumpy because Ellie’s started doing it too!” he laughs, and Derek scowls. Ellie calling Derek dude was just about the funniest thing in the world to Stiles, and apparently the end of the world to Derek. 

Derek checks his watch. “Actually, we’ve got somewhere to be!” he says, and Stiles frowns.

“Pretty sure it’s not gonna start until 9.” 

Derek grins. “Not that. Something else. Can you drive to the farm?” 

This is a surprise, and Stiles smiles, nodding. “Yeah! Can you tell me why?” 

“Nope. Sworn to secrecy, sorry.” 

Stiles stares, but Derek doesn’t so much as blink, so he just sighs and turns the key, thrilled at the idea of a surprise. 

Derek’s thumb, rubbing steady circles over the back of Stiles’ hand for the whole dirve, doesn’t do all that much to slow his heart rate either. 

The farmstand looks quiet when they pull in. It’s technically closed for the night, but the lights are on anyways.

“Wait, wait,” says Derek when Stiles unbuckles and reaches for his door handle. Confused, Stiles complies, and Derek hops out and comes around, opening Stiles’s door for him.

Stiles flushes and takes Derek’s offered hand, climbing out of the Jeep. 

“You trust me?” Derek asks, and Stiles would answer duh except that feels sort of blaise, so he settles for a soft smile and a nod. Derek grins. He turns Stiles around, back-to-chest, and he covers Stiles’ eyes. 

“This okay?” Derek leans in, his breath against Stiles’ ear, and Stiles fights the urge to shiver.

“Yeah.” 

Derek guides him carefully, but Stiles has been to the farmstand so many times that he could probably do this without Derek’s help. He finds each stone step with ease, knows how many steps to take on the path from the steps to the ramp. The wooden ramp is smooth under his feet.

“Stop,” Derek says, and he does. If he had to guess, he’s just nearly to the front entrance, looking into the farmstand. “Are you ready?” Derek asks, but it doesn’t sound like it’s for him, so he doesn’t answer. Derek must get an answer, though, because Stiles hears that little exhale that’s Derek’s I’m trying not to laugh sound, and he smiles to himself. 

“Okay,” says Derek. “Ready?” he murmurs, and that’s for Stiles, so Stiles hums an affirmative.

Derek’s hands drop from over Stiles’ eyes, and Stiles opens them slowly. 

And if it were possible for his heart to actually explode, he’s pretty sure it would’ve right then. Stiles opens his eyes to see three figures in party hats. Cora, holding two huge loaves of bread that Stiles can smell from where he stands. Isaac, holding a slushie that Stiles prays is cherry and not blue raspberry. And Ellie, holding the most misshapen, adorable little cake he’s ever seen, grinning and bouncing in place, party hat sliding down to resemble more of a unicorn horn than anything else.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” They all cheer, and Stiles really could cry. Might cry. Derek stands beside him, and when Stiles looks over at him, Derek’s staring back, Stiles’ cheeksplitting grin mirrored on his face,

“Surprise,” Derek says. 

And if they’re a few minutes late to his not-so-surprise party… well, Stiles can live with that. Because when he walks in, Ellie on his shoulders, Derek by his side, and Isaac and Cora trailing after him, he’s not anxious at all. 

It will turn out that he didn’t really have to be anxious anyways - Allison greets Derek with a warm smile, Sheriff Stilinski’s endlessly entertained by Ellie, and Derek and Lydia find they have way more in common than Stiles could have imagined. Isaac immediately takes to Scott, and Cora makes Malia laugh, which is downright impressive.

Melissa briefly interrogates Derek, and he’s more nervous talking to her than he is talking to Stiles’ dad(which Stiles finds hilarious but also totally fair, if he’s honest), but she quickly makes her decision and hugs Derek, which startles Derek and makes Stiles cackle. 

And it is, in the end, a very happy birthday.