Archive of Our Own ^beta

Derek felt his nose itch before the elevator doors even opened on his floor in the apartment building. When the doors did finally open, he blinked through the tears that had suddenly built in his stinging eyes to see a huge bouquet of flowers sitting outside of his front door. It was the first thing that anyone would have seen, with even almost-blind eyes like Derek. The eye was immediately drawn to the beautiful flowers in a large glass vase, various shades of reds, pinks, and whites all tied together magnificently. It was truly stunning, even if it was going to kill Derek.

He was allergic to flowers. Oh boy, he was so allergic to flowers. It wasn't a joke. He could deal with them outside in the open air, but in a close environment he stood absolutely no chance. He was a big man, easily six foot with muscles which wouldn't have looked out of place on a bodybuilder, but lock him in a room with a single daisy and he would be on his knees and begging to be let out in less than a minute.

There was a huge bow around the vase in he hallway and an envelope sticking out from the middle of the display. Derek took a deep breath of clean air from the elevator before he stepped fully out of it and rushed down the corridor to grab the card from the flowers. Once it was in his grasp he all but ran into his apartment, unlocking the door with a speed he didn't know he had in him. He slammed the door behind him and rushed over to the window. He threw it open and stuck his head out into the fresh air of the uncontaminated outside world and breathed deeply. When his eyes were no longer streaming and his airways were a little clearer, he flipped over the envelope in his hand and ripped it open, pulling out the card inside. He read the message inside and betrayal and hurt welled up inside of him with each word. When he got to the final greeting and the name of the sender he flung the card angrily as far away from him as he could.

He grabbed his phone from his pocket and unlocked it with shaking hands. With anger still raging through him and his heart pounding in his ears, he pulled up his messages and typed out a text he had never thought he would have to send.

/

Stiles had been on tenterhooks all day and it was barely noon.

It was finally April 1^st. Finally. 

Stiles had been looking forward to this day for a whole year. He had barely been able to sleep the previous night and he had woken up early on the morning, nerves and excitement battling it out in butterflies in his stomach which had kept him from sleep.

He was already on his phone when the text came through and when he saw the name flash up on the screen he nearly squealed in excitement. This was it. The moment; after one year of waiting, this was it. He rolled himself over onto his stomach as he opened the message, but his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach when he read what it said.

That couldn’t be right, could it? No way had he gotten things so wrong.

He read it again and again. Then he read it another couple of times just to make sure that he really hadn’t gotten it wrong and it did indeed say what he thought it did.

From: Sourwolf [10.30am]: Fuck you, Stiles. Fuck. You.

/

Derek’s phone startled him from his sleep when it began to ring with some stupid ringtone that Stiles was without a doubt responsible for. He rolled over in his bed with a groan and reached out for it. He caught sight of the bedside clock in the low light and groaned again. Who the hell was ringing him at 3.42 am and why? No matter what it was, he knew that it was not going to be a good thing.

“Hello?” He croaked into the phone groggily, sleep clouding his voice.

“Taxi please!” Came the voice through the speaker.

“…Stiles?” Derek asked. He had been right; this was nothing good.

“Yeah!” His friend shouted excitedly, the sounds of a club coming through the speaker with the shrill voice, “It’s me!”

“It is,” Derek agreed. He pushed himself up in the bed so that he was sitting against his pillows and yawned widely. “Did you ring just to tell me that?”

“No, you silly!” Stiles burst into loud laughter and Derek could just imagine him pulling a face at Derek. “I rang to, um. Um… Taxi!”

Luckily for both men, Derek was pretty good at translating Stiles-speak. “You wanted a taxi? You rang me, you idiot, not a taxi company.”

Stiles laughed again, the sound causing Derek to smile even against his best interests. “No I didn’t!” He protested. “I rang the taxi number. Scott told me to ring one,” Stiles continued. “He said I was drunk and I couldn’t drive home.”

Derek wiped a hand down his face; Scott was right. (For once). “So you want a taxi?” It was easiest just to go along with Stiles and stop trying to correct him. The man was a little bit of a stubborn nightmare when he was sober, never mind when he was wasted.

“Yes, please! Do you work for taxis now?” Stiles’ voice sounded utterly awed and Derek rolled his eyes. “Dude, that’s so cool! I didn’t know you drove a taxi.”

“Okay, Stiles,” Derek said as pushed himself out of bed, slowly but with purpose. He stayed on the phone as he left his bedroom and pulled on a jumper as he found his coat and shuffled into his shoes. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the Jungle.”

Derek rolled his eyes. Of course he was. Stiles had been a frequenter of Jungle, Beacon Hill’s only decent gay club, since he had come of age and he showed no signs of stopping his visits nearly eight years later. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Wait out the front.”

“Okay!” Stiles chirped happily. “See you soon, Mr. Taxi-man!”

*

Derek pulled up to the kerb and saw Stiles propped up against Scott, their heads bowed close together as they laughed at something on Scott’s phone. Allison was sat on the floor leaning against Kira and the two of them looked half asleep. It was Allison who noticed Derek’s car first and she leant back against Scott’s legs, lifting her arms in a weird movement which was apparently meant to draw the man’s attention. Scott looked down at her and then up to the car as his brow furrowed in confusion. When realisation dawned he smiled widely and nudged Stiles. Stiles looked over at the Camaro and his entire face blossomed into a grin. He slung an arm around Scott’s shoulders and squeezed him, bending precariously on very wobbly legs to drop kisses to the heads of the girls in front of him before he ran over to Derek’s car.

“Hi!” He said excitedly as he threw open the door. “It’s you!”

“It’s me,” Derek agreed dryly.

“Why are you here?” Stiles asked, still leaning half out of the car.

“I’m here to pick you up,” Derek said.

“Oh,” Stiles said. He smiled but it dropped from his face quickly. “But I called a taxi.”

Derek rolled his eyes and reached out a hand to pull Stiles into the car, who flailed around until he dropped heavily into the passenger seat. “No, you didn’t, you idiot,” Derek told him. “You called me.”

Stiles looked over at him with wide eyes and a dopey smile.

“What?” Derek asked, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

“And you came to get me,” Stiles said, still will a huge smile of his face. “I called you and you came.”

Derek blushed but he didn’t reply. He would do just about anything if Stiles asked, but he wasn’t about to admit that; especially not when Stiles was a drunk as he was. He checked that Stiles was buckled in before he stepped out of the car to shout over the top of it to the little group of his friends still standing on the sidewalk. “Are you lot getting in too?”

Scott beamed at him and gave what Derek assumed was meant to be a wink, but just looked like Scott’s eyelashes had gotten stuck together. “Nah, dude,” he called back. “Allison’s roommate is on her way for us. So, you two go and have fun!” There was another pathetic attempt for a wink and Derek rolled his eyes with a laugh. How did he get stuck with these idiots as his best friends?

“Be safe,” he instructed, pointing at Scott before gesturing down at the girls. “Get them home and text me when you’re all in bed.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Scott cried, attempting a salute, but he only succeeded in smacking himself in the nose. Derek laughed and shook his head, sliding smoothly into his car.

*

“This isn’t my apartment,” Stiles said as he looked around the room.

“Your observation skills amaze me,” Derek said dryly as he deposited Stiles on the bed in Derek’s guest room; at this point it was nearly owned by Stiles anyway. “But as your apartment is in Berkley I didn’t really want to drive there at 4 am and I didn’t think that your dad would appreciate his drunken son waking him up.”

“I am 24,” Stiles pouted as he lay down on the mattress and stared up at Derek, “I am not a child.”

“Do you want to go home?” Derek asked with a raised eyebrow.

There was a pause before Stiles sighed petulantly. “No,” he admitted finally.

“Go to sleep, Stiles,” Derek said with a fond smile.

“Are you going to sleep with me?” Stiles asked flirtatiously and in all fairness, his wink was much better than Scott’s pathetic attempts earlier had been. However, it wasn't as smooth as Stiles clearly thought it was and Derek chuckled a little. Stiles stood up from the bed and advanced towards Derek with a sultry gaze. Despite the stench of alcohol coming off him in waves Derek couldn’t help the fire in his stomach at the smell of Stiles when the younger man drew near; the familiar scent of spice and Applewood filled Derek’s nose and stoked the fire that constantly burnt in his stomach whenever he was around the other man.

“You need to actually sleep,” Derek insisted but he couldn’t stop his arms from winding around Stiles’ waist as Stiles neared him and lifted his own arms to wrap them around Derek’s shoulders.

“I need you,” Stiles whispered before he leant in and closed the gap between him and Derek. The second that their lips met all of Derek’s resolve crumbled and he surged forward, deepening the kiss almost immediately and swallowing Stiles’ moans eagerly. The taste of cheap booze assaulted Derek’s tongue, but the taste that was so uniquely Stiles could be discerned underneath and Derek could see himself getting addicted to that intoxicating flavour quickly. One of his hands came up to cup the back of Stiles’ neck and he angled Stiles’ head so that he could suck a dark bruise just below the younger man’s jawline. Stiles groaned as he threw his head back and suddenly Derek froze. He pulled away in horror and stared at Stiles. The man’s eyes snapped open and he reached out for Derek again.

“What? No,” he said on a whine, drawing out the vowel as he grabbed at the air. “Kiss me. I didn’t say you could stop kissing me!”

Derek shook his head and took another step back. “You’re drunk, Stiles.”

“No, I’m –”

Derek just levelled Stiles with a glare and dared him to continue his protest. Stiles sighed and conceded. “Okay, I’m drunk,” he admitted, “But you’re not taking advantage. I want this; I want you.”

Derek just shook his head again and gently pushed Stiles back towards the bed. “Go to sleep, Stiles.”

“What? No, Derek –”

“I can’t do this.”

“Come on –”

“Not when you’re drunk,” Derek cut in forcefully. “If this is going to happen, like you and I both want, then you need to be sober and aware. You need to be able to consent and you need to remember everything that we do.”

“I won’t forget,” Stiles argued.

Derek sighed sadly and his lips quirked up into a downhearted smile. He loved Stiles’ stubborn determination in every single thing that he did. “Not tonight,” he insisted, not letting his party line go even in the face of Stiles’ sad pout.

“But I love you.”

Derek startled at Stiles’ small voice. He opened his mouth and was about to respond in kind when Stiles’ inebriated state came screaming back to him. Derek had been drunk with Stiles before and knew exactly what he was like. His best friend was a very happy drunk; Stiles was never one to cry or argue, but he was definitely one to make new friends and to protest without a moment of hesitation his love for anyone he met on a night out.

“One year,” Derek said when he regained his voice in the face of Stiles’ bombshell.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“You have one year left of your degree. Go back to college and focus on your final year and then when you come back, if you still,” he cut himself off as he fumbled over the word that he had wanted to say for a long time, “want me then come back and tell me. Wait for me for one year. I’ll be here.” This was far too real and Derek was a little freaked out. He wanted Stiles so badly, but he couldn’t do it, not like this. He wanted Stiles in every way, but he would prefer him sober and consenting.

“Promise?”

Derek smiled sadly and nodded. He lifted a hand and wiped at flecks of glitter stuck to Stiles' cheek - clearly he had been dancing with his Drag Queen friends again.“I promise.”

And he did. Derek wouldn’t move on; it had been Stiles since Derek was old enough to understand what attraction was and he knew this wasn’t a crush which could go away. He’d felt that when Stiles moved away for college and he realised just how far his feelings went when he missed the other man with every breath that he took.

“Okay then,” Stiles said decisively. “One year and we’ll be together.”

Derek shook his head. He wasn’t holding out much hope for Stiles to remember this conversation for a whole year. Stiles was not someone who could hold his alcohol and he was always the one who spent their mornings being reminded of what he had done the night before. He wasn’t going to remember this.

“Come on,” Derek said. He wrapped his arm around Stiles’ waist again and began to herd the man back to his bed. “You need to sleep.”

“Dun wanna sleep,” Stiles whined petulantly. “I want it to be next year.”

Derek huffed a little laugh at that. “The sooner you sleep, the sooner it will be next year.”

“Yeah?” Stiles turned wide eyes on Derek and smiled slowly.

“Yeah,” Derek agreed softly.

Stiles pulled away from Derek and jumped onto the bed, ripping the covers back and shuffling down until only his nose and eyes were sticking out. “Night, Der! See you in a year! I’m gonna romance the shit out of you, just so you know.”

Derek laughed a little at the ridiculousness of the man he had apparently pledged his heart to. He walked to the doorway and turned back to Stiles as he flicked the light switch.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” he whispered, “I look forward to it.”

/

Stiles sat on his bed and picked at a loose thread in his comforter. His eyes were trained on his fingers as he avoided everyone else in the room. Scott was pacing the length of the room angrily with his face set into a frown as he threatened legal action against Derek.

“It’s okay,” Stiles muttered quietly as Scott called Derek a soggy walnut for the seventh time.

“No; it’s not!” Scott fumed, spinning on his heel and staring imploringly at Stiles “He’s an asshole! Dude, you deserve so much better than him. We should go down there and kick his ass!”

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Scott,” Kira reminded him gently. Scott bristled indignantly on Stiles’ behalf until Kira amended, “Well, nothing legally wrong anyway.” She threw an apologetic and sympathetic look over to Stiles which just made him want to cry.

“He still needs to be told that he’s a dick,” Scott said decisively. “He’s meant to be better than sending a text like that.”

Isaac spoke up from the couch, pulling his attention away from the movie playing on the television to offer up his suggestion. “We could put hair dye in his shampoo.”

“Or we hide all of his workout clothes,” Jackson suggested through a mouthful of popcorn, he too glued to the television, but he didn’t bother to turn around not as he spoke like Isaac had.

Scott startled in surprise and looked over at the man with his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Since when do you care about this?”

Jackson shrugged. “I don’t,” he said simply. “I just thought it would be funny to hide Derek’s running kit.” His gaze wandered over to Stiles who had shifted to lying flat on his bed, face turned away as he was still and silence for once. Jackson sighed and shrugged before he spoke again. “And Stiles doesn’t look right when he’s not flailing around like an idiot. Derek needs to know what he did.”

Stiles suddenly spoke up, though he didn’t turn away from staring at the wall “No.” His voice was soft but strong and everybody turned to look at him. “It’s not Derek’s fault. It’s mine. I read too much into it. I just, I don’t know… I thought we were moving in that direction, I guess. I was an idiot to think that Derek would feel the same way. I probably imagined that night last year.”

Scott made to speak again, but Boyd got there first. “I’m not saying that Derek did the right thing – not with Stiles lying there like Batman just died – but we’ve known the guy for eight years. When has he done something just to be mean? He’s one of our best friends. He wouldn’t just have sent that text for the sake of sending it.”

Everyone was silent as they thought about what Boyd had pointed out. There was another moment before Scott spoke up. “Well, I’m still using his card to order the pizza,” he said petulantly.  

Boyd bobbed his head in agreement. “Fair enough.”

/

Derek opened his front door, but slammed it immediately shut when he saw who was standing on the other side of it. Stiles banged on the door again and called out.

“Derek!” He shouted and accompanied his cry with relentless pounding on the wood before him. “Open the door, you asshole!”

Derek growled and pulled the door open again. “Go away,” he said fiercely.

“No!” Stiles yelled back.

“I do have neighbours, you know,” Derek said.

Stiles grimaced sheepishly and dropped his voice a little, but he didn’t back down or give in. “Well, they should know that you’re an asshole!”

“I’m the asshole?” Derek shouted back.

“Yes!”

“Whatever,” Derek growled. “Are you going to leave anytime soon?”

“Nope,” Stiles said obnoxiously, smiling tightly at the other man.

Derek let out an angry breath and closed his eyes for a long moment. He opened them again and stepped back slightly. “Fine,” he said shortly.

Stiles pushed past Derek into the other man’s apartment and came to a halt in the living room. He span on his heel and folded his arms across his chest, glaring at Derek. Derek glared right back when he shut the door and followed Stiles. He stood opposite him and gestured for Stiles to start talking again, an eyebrow raised defiantly.

“Right,” Stiles began, “I don’t get why you had to be such a dick!”

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles threw his hands up. “Like that!” He cried. “I did nothing to you and you just fucked me over, you asshole!”

“You did nothing to me?” Derek cried back. “Are you joking right now?”

“What the fuck did I do? Last week, we were fine! We went to the cinema and got pizza literally three days ago and now suddenly you hate me! You’re one of my best friends, Der; you can’t just do this to me.”

“You sent me flowers!” Derek yelled.

“You told me to!” Stiles cried.

“I told you to send me literal poison to mock me about my feelings for you?” Derek yelled.

“Yes!” Stiles yelled back. “Well, I mean, no,” he spluttered. “Wait, what?”

“Just get out,” Derek said forcefully.

“What? No! You can’t just shove me out every time.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, this time wearily, “go home.”

“No! I will not; I want to know what you meant by that.”

“I meant exactly what I said. And now, we’re done.”

“No; we’re not done,” Stiles disagreed. He took a step closer toward Derek. “I don’t want to be done! I’m doing what you asked me to do.”

“I didn’t ask for this! A bunch of flowers that I’m the most allergic to on April Fool’s Day? I know that you don’t feel the same way that I do, but that was just plain mean.”

“What?” Stiles asked. “No, what? I feel things! What do you feel?”

“Stiles, just –”

“No! Look, one year ago today I kissed you –”

“No, you didn’t,” Derek interrupted.

“– and because I was drunk you pushed me away. You put me to bed and we fell asleep cuddling –,” Derek tried to interrupt again but Stiles barrelled on, “– and right before I fell asleep you said ‘if you still want this in one year, come and find me’. So I did.

I came and found you. I waited one whole year and I told you! What the fuck do you want from me? Did you make me wait a whole fucking year just to turn me down? Are you fucking serious?”

Derek stood, shocked into silence that Stiles remembered that conversation. He’d been seriously drunk. He shook himself. “It’s a joke!” He screamed.

“What? You were joking?” Stiles reeled back and his mouth dropped open in shocked betrayal. “You have no intention of doing this with me?”

“What?” Derek asked. “No! I had every intention and then you played this fucked up prank!”

“Why the fuck would this be a joke? Which part? Derek, be serious here!” Stiles threw his head back and groaned. “Not everyone is out to get you, dude! Some people actually want to be with you.” He took a deep breath and locked eyes with Derek. “I waited one whole year, Der. To the day, and yet you do this.”

“You got the wrong day,” Derek said quietly.

“What?” Stiles asked before he thought about what Derek had said. “No, I didn’t,” he said, “What are you talking about? This is the right day.”

“It obviously isn’t,” Derek countered. “I know it’s April Fool’s Day, Stiles. I’m not an idiot.”

“But it isn’t just April Fool’s Day today!” Stiles cried. “It’s a year to the day that we kissed!”

“No,” Derek insisted. “No, it isn’t.”

“What? Yes it is.”

“No, it isn’t,” Derek repeated.

“We kissed a year ago today!”

“We kissed on March 31^st,” Derek said. “So, that would have been yesterday.”

“What?  No! No, Derek, it was 4am when we kissed. It was April 1^st.”

Derek faltered; was it possible that this was just a misunderstanding? No, he told himself and he held firm to his belief. “No,” he said out loud and adamantly. “You hadn’t been to bed so it was still March. It was March 31^st; not the day that it is socially acceptable for all pranks to be pulled.”

“You’d been to bed!” Stiles pointed out. “So it was 4am on the first of April.”

“Fine,” Derek finally gave in to that part of the argument, but really didn’t want to back down to the whole thing. He wasn’t letting his guard down again that easily. “But you still had a whole year to come to me.”

“Well, yeah, but you said that I had to wait for the whole year to prove my lov – my feelings for you,” Stiles said with a cough over his slip up. It was possibly a little early to go down that route, he chastised himself. “Everyone at college thought it was strange that I didn’t date, but I’d talk about you like we were together and, let’s be honest, we kinda act like it too. We have a lot of dates, dude, just without the actual romance part.

But you said that I had to wait one year, so I did. I don’t know what else you want from me, dude. I did what you asked and it wasn’t a joke.” Stiles’ voice broke a little over his words and his eyes filled with tear s. He swiped them away angrily and turned from Derek, hiding his face.

“But the flowers…” Derek said after a moment, his voice barely there.

“I thought you’d like them,” Stiles said, turning back to Derek with a sniff. He kept his eyes trained on the hardwood floor instead of looking up to the other man.

“Stiles,” Derek started, “They literally made my eyes and nose run for hours. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe whilst they were near the apartment. I had to call Laura to remove them. ”

“What?” Stiles’ head shot up and he stared at Derek with wide eyes. He dropped his gaze again and pulled his phone out of his pocket in a hurry. He frantically unlocked it and searched for something as Derek watched him in confusion.

“No,” he muttered to himself, “No, they weren’t!” He finally found what he was looking for and let out a triumphant cry. “See? Look!”

Stiles suddenly thrust the screen into Derek’s face, leaving the screen so close to the other man’s eyes that it was too blurry to be seen. Derek pulled back with a grimace and held Stiles’ wrist at a safe distance from his face whilst he took the phone. He blinked at the screen, refocusing the words in front of him so that he could read what was being shown to him. It was the order for the bouquet of flowers that Derek had received from Stiles the day before, clearly stating that the flowers were to be –

“They were meant to be fake!” Stiles said, pulling Derek’s attention from the phone screen up to the other man’s angry face. “I specifically asked for fake ones so that you could get the beauty without, you know, the death-inducing side effects that you get whenever you so much as smell a flower!”

Derek faltered again. “You asked for fake flowers?” He asked quietly and Stiles visibly softened.

“Of course I did, Der,” he said, smiling gently. “I wanted to tell you how much I, well, wanted you and I thought ‘big bouquet of flowers’ was the way to go, but obviously I didn’t want them to hurt you.”

Derek didn’t reply; he just stared at Stiles with a slightly stunned look on his face.

“Stupid shop,” Stiles muttered, “Ruining my big romantic gesture. How hard is it to tell the difference between fake and real, really? I mean, it’s not like they had nine months to sort this out or anyth-”

Stiles’ angry rant was cut off mid-word as Derek surged forward and kissed him. He threw Stiles’ cell somewhere in the general direction of the couch as he lifted his hands to cup Stiles’ face and pull him ever closer. Stiles sighed into the kiss and lifted his hands to wrap them around Derek’s neck and tug him even closer. When the kiss softened into more of a warm embrace rather than the urgent and passionate one it had been, Derek pulled away and stroked his thumb over Stiles’ cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you, especially not without talking to you first.”

“I don’t want to say it’s okay, but I know why you did,” Stiles said softly, leaning into Derek’s touch.

“It isn’t okay,” Derek argued, “And please don’t say that it is. I know you would never do something like that; you wouldn’t do that to anyone, especially not one of your friends. I knew deep down it wasn’t going to be a prank, not something which could have seriously hurt me –”

“Derek, I wouldn’t! You know –”

“I know,” Derek hastened to cut over Stiles’ desperate interruption and he smiled a little. “I know you wouldn’t, no one would. I just, I thought… It isn’t an excuse and I hurt you, but I got a little insecure. I’d been waiting for March 31^st for, well, for the whole year and when it came and went and you didn’t do anything, I was gutted. I really was, and then when April 1^st came and I had a bunch of flowers which set off my allergies and a card from you attached to them, I couldn’t help but think that you…” He cut himself off and swallowed. Stiles leant forward and kissed Derek sweetly.

“I’m so sorry, Der. You know I would never want you to think that. I should have been a little clearer with my intentions from the start.”

“Or I should have stopped being such a coward,” Derek countered. “I’ve been in… been wanting you for years and I never acted on it. Instead I waited until you spoke up first and then asked you to wait for me, for a fucking year.”

“I don’t mind,” Stiles told him.

“You shouldn’t have had to wait for me to stop being a cowardly asshole, though,” Derek said. “I will spend the rest of our lives making this up to you, I swear. Well, if you’ll have me for that long,” he said as an afterthought.

“I would have waited for ten years if it meant that I could have you,” Stiles said truthfully. He leant forward and kissed Derek again, relishing in the butterflies that exploded in his stomach. “And I will absolutely take the rest of your life.”