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The library had finally calmed down, settling in a soft quietness only slightly interrupted with the wisps of hushed voices and pages being turned or the tick tacking of a computer keyboard. Nighttime was approaching and the sky had taken on a strong overcast of clouds greying at the threat of rain. The wind had swept continuously the whole day and had been picking up in gusts at times as the evening progressed. It was the beginning of fall, and already a cold front was stirring. The changing leaves on the trees fluttered and danced as many fell to the ground. The view throughout all the large library windows didn’t seem gloomy but it was enough of a weather change to make a person want to curl up to a cradling warmth and drift off to sleep. It was cool and crisp outside and a friendly warm inside. The perfect fall weather.
Stiles wouldn’t argue that this kind of evening already had his melatonin starting early. It was the end of the short-staffed work week and he was exhausted, so it was appreciated that his last hour of the Friday evening shift was slow and uneventful. He was leaned to the side against the front desk station, propped up on one elbow, mindlessly scrolling along the work calendar on the computer monitor. It let him still look casually busy; he could glance up at the patron computer station, left to the reading/lounge area, or right to the fully shelved rows of bookcases. The phones hadn’t rang in half an hour, no faxes or printings were needed, the handful of people left in there were seemingly occupied without needing him. He sighed, tilting his chin resting in the palm of his propped arm, and half heartedly glancing at the cart beside the desk. There were only a few books left to be shelved. He flicked his tongue, audibly clucking as he decided to finish shelving. He was ready to go home, maybe being a little more preoccupied could hurry the time. He strolled over, no hurry evident in all his movements, and grabbed the last four books. “Fiction M, Fiction P, Biography T, Romance F,” he read the spine labels to himself, turned, and headed towards the fiction section.
Reaching the fiction book up to its correct place in the M section, soft footsteps sounded close to him. Stiles slid the book in and glanced over as figures entered his peripheral vision. Some regular patrons were heading towards the door. “Have a good night Sawyer,” Stiles gently voiced to the guy leaving with his wife, smiled and nodded. Sawyer raised his hand and smiled back, his wife smiled as well. Stiles enjoyed them, they were always a pleasant interaction when they came to the library, and that was often. Taking a quick glance back to the desk to make sure no one was waiting, Stiles walked around the bookcase to the next one finding the P section, and slid the book in its place. Biographies were next and he ambled over, skimming the labels for the T’s, finding the book's place and sliding it in. Now for the Romance book. He glanced down at the little but thick paperback, black and blue in color, the title A Wild Night in bright red. Stiles snorted, rolled his eyes playfully and started walking to the other side of the library. He quickly shelved the last book, and started making his rounds tidying up, pushing chairs in, picking up papers and newspapers.
Glancing up at the large clock, he grinned knowing now he only had twenty minutes left. The only person using a computer before was now gone, and since only an elderly lady was left in the book sale section he decided to shut the computers down early, not that you can get into too much with only five minutes left for computer use. He went through closing the ten computers, the elderly lady starting her way to the desk. One last person, Stiles mentally cheered as he arrived at his computer and pulled up the checkout window.
“Hi Lily,” Stiles greeted the elderly lady with the fluffiest white hair he's sure he's ever seen, who was also another one of his favorites. Lily may be elderly but she was spritely and while her feet might not be quick, her mouth was. “We checking out or buying tonight?”
“Oh both my dear boy, both,” Lily exasperated with a smile, laying her bundle of books at the desk and handing Stiles her card. “I found these books in the sale, you know I bet they'd be good. The covers are nice too. I'm sure someone else could want to read them, but I think I want to read them more,” and she started giggling. Stiles openly smiled at her remark, he understood that completely.
“I’m sure that’d be just fine. Here’s your checkouts,” Stiles placed the books in a bag along with the return slip, and started reaching for the sale books.
“How much do I owe for these again? I didn't even check the stickers,” Lily inquired.
“Mmmm how does zero sound this time?” Stiles answered, smiling as he added the books to her bag.
“Stiles, now I'm sure they aren't free. Book sale after all.” She quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah but last time you bought books, you paid more than what they cost and said to keep the change.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, but grinned cheekily. “Enjoy your books Lily,” he handed the bag over, gave her his trademark crooked smile and winked.
“You're a good young man Stiles, thank you. I’ll be seeing you soon, more books to get a hold of before anyone else.” Lily patted his hand and shuffled her way to the door.
“Have a good night.”
Ten minutes left. It had grown even darker outside but was still light enough to have a pale orange cast behind those darkening clouds. The wind hadn’t let up any, the trees starting to look more like shadows. His coworkers came downstairs to finish the closing duties at five minutes left. They worked quickly at the register countdown, casual talk of dinner plans and complaints of the day. Stiles didn't voice all of his plans, but he knew exactly what he was going to do. He thought of the place he called home now; the loft. By the time he would get there it would be dark and even cooler. He pictured the large living room area, warm and inviting with a soft orange glow if the fireplace was on and going, the big soft couch, strong and safe arms wrapped around him… “Stiles”…
“Stiles. You ready? Hello,” Angie, his closing manager was waving her hand in front of his face and grinning. “Space out when you get home, I'm ready to leave.” Stiles blinked a few times and blushed. The pink darkening when she smiled at him with a look that said she knew who he was daydreaming about.
They all clocked out, locked up and heading to their vehicles. A slow rainfall had started, the drops scattered around as the wind continued to push. Stiles dumped himself into the seat of his jeep, turning the key and asking his baby blue to start on the first try. He really wanted to get home. The engine roared to life and Stiles fist bumped the air. “Alright, lets get home.”
The perfect fall evening had turned into the perfect fall night for being saved from the dark and windy, cold, rainy weather that was expected to continue throughout the night and into the next morning. Stiles zipped his multi-shade blue jacket up a little higher, the heating in the old jeep taking longer showing signs of its age. “Well that's fine,” Stiles spoke to his baby blue. “Gotcha work cut out for you, I’ll be warm soon enough.”
All these thoughts over only a couple of hours but that wasn't it really. It was everything within those few hours, everything about those few hours that signified where he was right now in his life and how far things had come to get there. He had those things to muse over all the time and during times like this when the weather provoked the want to be warm and cozy, he wanted to share it with one person. He was exhausted from the week, feeling the light brisk of chillbumps and the cool crisp air had settled into everything, but nothing was wrong, at all. He wanted to go home, and enjoy the new feelings that the fall season was bringing. Call him a sentimental softy but he really did love times like this. They didn't come as often after he and his friends were tossed into the world of the supernatural and that's why they meant so much more.
The road held a wet sheen, reflecting streetlights and mottled with fallen leaves. As he drove, Stiles let his thoughts drift back to the room at the loft, the warmth and glow so inviting in contrast to the dark and coolness outside the large windows, the sound of continuous tapping of the steady rainfall, the rustling of trees in the wind. He thought back to the couch, so comfortable and inviting to relax on, and then those arms. Strong and toned arms wrapped in cotton sleeves coming around his shoulders and embracing him, holding him and feeling so safe and peaceful in their grasp. Those arms connecting to stout shoulders that always felt as though they were immovable, steady. Arms and shoulders with a chest, back and stomach supernaturaly rock hard, undeniably beautifully built, that also proved to be one of his favorite pillows. He had been driving on autopilot and snapped back to reality when he drove over a pothole. Mere seconds after leaving his thoughts, Stiles shivered. His skin feeling even more cold as the goosebumps spread from the missing warmth his mind had thought up, it prickled with awareness. That was an okay thing now, because he was just down the road from home. He drove up to the turn, coming into his parking spot and stopping.
Shutting off the engine he smiled again; this is a perfect fall night. Stiles felt the realness of nostalgia in that moment, how he'd thought and reminisced of getting home, how the seasons change had given those real life aesthetic urges, to ‘enjoy again’ moments he’d shared before and make them new at the same time. This evening, this night could be plain and even nothing to some, but it wasn't for him. Stiles was loved and he knew he was, and he loved back. These moments were important, they were real and they bonded everything together even stronger.
Stiles made it to the living quarters and opened the door. As it swung open every thought he'd daydreamed and anticipated coming home to was right there. The fire was going and its warmth welcomed him in, its soft yellow glow covering the room, the smell of fresh hot coffee with a hint of his favorite creamer wafted at his nose enticingly, and he inwardly thanked goodness decaf had been created yet again because such a tasty beverage should be enjoyable any time of day, or night. He stepped in and set his bag down next to the door after closing it. Stiles turned towards the kitchen entryway and there was the reason for his aching to always come home, leaning against the kitchen counter.
“You never cease to amaze me,” Stiles spoke through his childish grin, already feeling the tension of the week and the day leave his shoulders, relief to finally be home.“Sourwolf really is more sweet than he’ll ever let on. I’ll keep your secret,” amusement laced his words and there was a happiness that spread from his heart to his toes as he ambled into the kitchen and stood in front of Derek, the eye contact only fondness.
“Hmph, thanks for that,” Derek smiled as he rolled his eyes and reached an arm to Stiles, pulling him close. “Can't have anyone finding out.” Stiles leaned in and relaxed even more in Derek's embrace, face settling perfectly against his chest as he reached his arms around Derek’s waist.
Giving a squeeze, Stiles smiled, “oh that would be a tragedy.”
They stood like that for a few minutes, both surprisingly comfortable even after having been on their feet all day. Moments like these were few and far between, where the two of them could simply be. These moments became more important as their relationship grew over time, becoming a staple. The silence around them ghosted only with the soft crackling of the fireplace and their whisper of breaths. Stiles' heartbeat was calm in a way that let even Derek lower his guard completely, and Derek’s own steady beat echoed in Stile’s ear, a reassuring sound.
“I knew this week was tough, figured you’d enjoy coming home and start the weekend off right.”
“Decaf coffee and sleep.” Stiles lightly chuckled from Derek's chest. “No, you’re right. Coming home was the best part. To you.”
Derek looked down at Stiles who raised his head having noticed the movement. Seconds passed of him just gazing at Stiles, those whiskey eyes so full of mischief and brightness that also shined with love for Derek, a love he never thought he’d ever find. It made the corners of his mouth turn up in a soft smile that still crinkled the corners of his eyes.
Stiles had learned that look, after what had been a long while of rarely seeing it, Stiles had found Derek’s happy face. It showed up more often. Derek pulled his arm a little tighter around Stiles shoulder and rubbed circles with his thumb. Stiles tipped his head down and rested it back in its place on Derek’s chest. He could feel Derek's chin rest on his shoulder. A blush crept over Stiles cheeks; he was such a sap.
Stile's muffled voice broke silence, “you er mphall.”
“What?”
“My fall. Maybe it sounds stupid coming from me but you’re my fall Derek.” Stiles let a low breath escape. “Everything about this perfectly fall day, and I still only think of you. You know how much I love this season, and now it all comes back to you.” Derek had lifted his head to look at Stiles while he spoke, he could hear the slight nervousness as the words continued and he knew what was being said was a deep confession. “I fall for you, every day that goes by.” Stiles glanced up, feeling a little embarrassed as he looked at Derek but deeply hoped he could see how much he meant those words. “You're my fall.”
A happiness, true happiness filled Derek's heart, mind and soul. Stiles was a genuine being, his words were strong like stone, and his love that he had to offer was a gift Derek didn't feel like he deserved. The longer they were together, the greater he felt Stiles' love become. It still left him in awe that it was for him; he was happy and Stiles was whole. Derek raised his hand, resting it against Stiles jaw cupping it softly, “I guess I'm falling with you.”