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From: Stiles - 1:15pm

Hey, Derek. So I've been thinking... it's time for a change. Like, serious changes have to start here before I lose my mind. I hope I'm not making a poor decision.

From: Stiles - 1:17pm

Okay, that last message was a little ominous, I know. I'm just not sure how you're going to react to... this.

From: Stiles - 2:55pm

Okay, you need to come over right now before I start regretting this.

Derek stared at his phone. He had woken up from a nap to find 3 missed messages from his boyfriend. His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario. He's breaking up with him. He's moving. He... maybe he wants a threesome? 

Derek perked up at the idea but shooed it away, knowing Stiles would never be up for that. But if it wasn't any of that... 

Then what the hell was he talking about?

He jumped out of bed and threw on the nearest pile of clothes and shoes and in an instant was speeding down the road to Stiles' house. He reached the house and walked quickly to the door. Before he could even knock, the door opened slightly. All Derek could see was his eyes.

"Stiles, what's going on?" Derek raised a brow.

"I'm, uh- I did something."

"Could you open the door and elaborate a little?"

Stiles quickly shut the door and could be heard undoing the door chain. He swung the door open and stepped out onto the porch. 

At first sight, Stiles' hair was pitch black. But as he walked further out into the sunlight, Derek could see hues of blue and purple shining off his hair. He gaped.


Stiles couldn't meet his eyes. He rubbed his ink-covered arms nervously. "I shouldn't have done this, huh? Man, I'm so impulsive I just-"

"I love it."

Stiles looked up quickly to see if there was any sarcasm lining his boyfriend's face. But Derek looked dead serious. "Really?"

Derek walked closer, pressing his hands to Stiles' waist. "How did I end up with such a beautiful punk in my life?" He said quietly, running his hands through the soft and freshly dyed hair. 

"Me? A punk?" Stiles laughed, letting his head rest on Derek's chest.

"Hm, let's see. Tattoos, check," He said, running his hands over Stiles' colored biceps. "Piercings, check." He ran his thumb lightly over the ring on his bottom lip. "Dyed hair... and a bad attitude. Check, check."

Stiles looked up, pouting. "Shut up, I don't have a bad attitude." He pushed on Derek's chest.

"Ow!" Derek feigned pain, stepping back and clutching his chest.

Stiles couldn't help but laugh at his dumb boyfriend. He took his arm, leading him inside. "Well now that the cat's outta the bag, you wanna stay for awhile?"

Derek agreed, and couldn't help but stare at him, because god damn. He really hit the lottery with this colorful, talkative, possibly impulsive but wonderfully gorgeous human being. The two laid together on the couch and sleepily watched an old movie as Derek played with Stiles' hair.