Derek was trying extremely hard not to get excited. He was trying, and failing, to stop grinning and to act like he was completely indifferent to the entire situation.
Easier said than done, because he was currently staring up at a beautiful Victorian house that now belonged to him. And not just to him, but to him and the only person he would ever want to share a house with ever again for the rest of his life.
“It’s yellow,” Stiles declared, moving up beside Derek and squinting at their new home. “Derek, the house is yellow. Why did you buy us a yellow house? I distinctly remember not asking for a yellow house.”
“We can paint it.” It was hard to resist rolling his eyes, but he somehow managed it.
“Uh, you can paint it. You think me on a ladder is a good idea? No way.” Stiles turned to head back for the U-Haul and he opened the back, sighing at the sight that greeted him. “We should’ve gotten movers.”
“Why?” Derek moved up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing his neck and inhaling their combined scents. He had never realized how much he loved their scents mingling until the first time Stiles had slept over. There was just something comforting about being able to inhale and know that he was Stiles’, and Stiles was his.
“Because you might be a Werewolf, but I am a scrawny human still hoping for a growth spurt.” Stiles turned to kiss his cheek, then wiggled free. “Come on, let’s get started or we’ll have nowhere to sleep tonight.”
“You don’t want to camp out on the living room floor and christen our new home?”
“Not on the living room floor, I don’t!” Stiles shot back from inside the back of the U-Haul. “Now get up here, I’m not doing all the heavy lifting.”
“When do you ever?” Derek asked and dodged the item thrown at his head. He laughed and climbed up into the back, moving some boxes over that had shifted during the drive so he could get to the couch. It was by far the largest thing in the back of the U-Haul, so he figured getting it out first would make it look like they had less to bring in and Stiles would stop whining.
“When’s your dad gonna come by and see it?” Derek asked, jumping out of the back and pulling the couch out. He got it angled on his left shoulder and walked to the house with it like it weighed nothing. Stiles was behind him with a box of books, face red with effort. Derek tried not to let him see his smile of amusement.
“Dad won’t come by until we paint it,” Stiles informed him once he’d caught his breath and Derek had brought in their new mattress and two parts of the bed.
“It’s not that bad.”
“Derek, our house is yellow. Do you know what else is yellow? Piss is yellow. Some forms of mucus are yellow. That weird goo monster we killed two months ago, his insides were yellow.”
“There’s also the sun, lemons, dandelions,” Derek offered.
“Weeds! Those are weeds!” Stiles insisted, following him outside. “And the sun gives me sun burns and lemons are sour!”
“You used to be fun, what happened to you?” Derek asked, jumping back into the truck while Stiles reached in for another random box of items. Derek decided he would stop him if he tried to bring in the dishes, or they wouldn’t have anything to eat on.
“I started dating you. Five years of grumpy looks and brooding silence. Your turn to be the fun one and put up with that.”
Derek just kissed his cheek on his way by with the headboard for their bed and Stiles followed him with another box.
While things would’ve gone much faster with Scott around, as well as various other members of their Pack, Derek had wanted this to be something only he and Stiles did. He didn’t have much to be happy about in his life, but Stiles had made up for a lot of the bad things that had happened to him. He wanted to be able to move into his new house with him and just bicker and enjoy each other’s company. He wasn’t in a rush to get everything inside right away, he just wanted to enjoy the feel of knowing every item that entered their home was theirs now.
It wasn’t Stiles’ apartment with the broken heater and terrible acoustics.
It wasn’t Derek’s loft with the squealing door and leaky roof.
It was their house. It belonged to both of them. And he loved that.
Every time he passed Stiles on his way inside, he would kiss any part of him he could reach. It turned into a game where they would see who could kiss the other in the weirdest spot while both of them carried things from the U-Haul into the house.
Derek had just finished bringing the last of the large items into the house when he heard Stiles let out a shout. Unconcerned, Derek wiped his sweaty hands off on his jeans and wandered down the stairs to the living room where Stiles was picking up a bunch of books and setting them on the shelf with a scowl.
“What did you do?” Derek asked, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms.
“Nothing, books just fell by themselves,” he muttered, rubbing at his head briefly before going back to re-arranging the books.
Derek headed back outside after having stuck around for a while, watching Stiles’ muscles move beneath his shirt. But, they still had a bunch of stuff to move so he couldn’t dally.
It took them another two hours to empty the back of the U-Haul, but once everything was in the house, Derek grinned and threw Stiles over his shoulder, carrying him up the stairs while the other yelled for him to put him down, punching at his back.
Sadly, when Derek reached the bedroom, he realized he hadn’t put the bed together yet so he sighed and just tossed Stiles down onto the mattress before falling on top of him.
“You’re heavy,” Stiles insisted, shoving at his shoulders.
“You’re grumpy when you move.”
“I hate moving,” Stiles confirmed, but he stopped trying to push Derek off him when the other began kissing and sucking along his neck. He left a few good hickeys in very visible spots for when their neighbours inevitably came by later, since it was still the middle of the work day. He didn’t want anyone confusing their relationship in any way.
“Come on, Sourwolf.” Stiles smacked him in the back. “Get started building the bed. I’ll see about organizing the kitchen.”
Derek rolled off him after giving him one last kiss and stood to do just that, finding the tools and beginning to work on getting the bed together. He could hear Stiles downstairs tinkering around in the kitchen, and occasionally walking to another room, but they mostly did their own thing.
He’d just finished constructing the frame when there was a loud crash from downstairs. Frowning, he hurried out of the room and towards the stairs, but when he looked down them, Stiles had books in his arms and was frowning into the kitchen, having been working in the living room.
“What happened?” Derek asked.
“No idea.” Stiles set the books down on the floor and walked into the kitchen. He let out a curse, and then something shattered.
Derek rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen, finding all the cabinets open and two different coloured items broken on the floor.
“What the hell?” Stiles muttered, walking forward a step, ceramic crunching beneath his shoes. “I walked in as a plate literally fell off the shelf, but that’s pretty much impossible.”
“Oh,” Derek said, realizing what was going on. He’d forgotten to mention it to Stiles. “That’s nothing, it’s just Ronan. Don’t worry about it.”
There was an extremely long pause before Stiles very slowly turned to face Derek, eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry, who?” he asked, staring at Derek as if he’d only just been told Werewolves existed and he was one of them. “Who the fuck is Ronan?”
“He’s a teenager who died in this house a couple years ago. He stuck around as a spirit, he’s probably pissed we haven’t set up the WiFi yet.” Derek shrugged, ignoring the incredulous look on Stiles’ face. “He’s harmless, just likes to mess with people.”
Stiles was still staring at him incredulously. “What?” he asked, licking his lips and giving Derek a look that read he was positive he’d misheard him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Derek insisted, moving to go for the broom when Stiles grabbed his arm.
“Can we talk outside?” Stiles asked, tugging. “I don’t want to say anything that might insult Ronan.” He tugged harder. “Let’s go talk outside.”
Derek knew this couldn’t be good, but he let Stiles drag him to the front door and out onto the porch. He thought they’d stop there, but Stiles dragged him down the drive to the U-Haul and pulled him behind it so it was between them and the house.
Then, he rounded on Derek and shoved him hard, though it only made him tilt backwards slightly.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Stiles demanded, tugging at his hair. “You bought us a fucking haunted house?!”
“It’s fine,” Derek insisted, Stiles beginning to pace, still tugging at his hair. “Stiles, I made sure it would be okay before we moved in, Ronan’s harmless. He’s just bored, he isn’t going to hurt you. I figured it was a non-issue, it was a really good price for the house.”
Stiles rounded on him, looking incensed. “Of course it was, it’s fucking haunted!” Stiles screamed, motioning the house.
“Stiles, it’s fine,” Derek insisted, getting frustrated.
“Oh, no, no!” Stiles wagged his finger from side to side. “No! The ghost has got to go, Derek! He’s gotta go! We were supposed to be normal!” Stiles insisted, stomping one foot childishly and flailing his arms. “We were finally moving in together! Like a normal couple! I didn’t sign up for a ghostly roommate, come on, Derek!”
“Hey, let’s give him a chance,” Derek insisted, putting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders while he panted, still angry. “Not all Supernatural beings are bad, and Ronan hasn’t done anything to hurt any of the previous owners. He just likes to scare people, but that won’t work on us.”
“He broke two of my favourite plates!”
“They’re just plates, Stiles.”
“What about when he breaks my face?!” Stiles demanded, motioning it.
Derek kissed his forehead. “It’s fine. Don’t worry.”
He turned to head back towards the house, and ignored the tantrum Stiles was having behind the U-Haul. He didn’t see what the big deal was, they dealt with the Supernatural all the time. And the ghost was harmless, Derek had checked. He’d spent an entire night in the house with it, and the worst it had done was flick small pebbles at him in clear boredom. He probably missed watching TV.
Besides, Ronan would get bored of haunting them when it became clear they wouldn’t get scared. Stiles wasn’t even scared now, he was just angry. Derek wasn’t scared at all, because whatever the ghost tried to do to him, he could just heal. Hell, he didn’t even know if the ghost was aware that he was a Werewolf. Derek didn’t know how things like that worked. Did people become omniscient when they died?
Derek went back to work on the bed, getting it built and situated accordingly, pleased with the outcome. He moved their dressers around, listening to Stiles grumble downstairs.
Something banged loudly and Stiles shouted, “Ronan, I swear to God! I’m so not in the mood for your ghostly bullshit!”
Chuckling at his boyfriend telling off a ghost, Derek finished up with all of the large items in the room and went downstairs to find Stiles angrily putting books on the shelves in the living room. It looked like the same books he’d previously been putting away, and when he turned to look at Derek, he glared and gave him a clear “the ghost has got to go!” look.
Ignoring him, Derek went to find their clothes and dragged all of those boxes upstairs. A few of them were already there, but he figured he’d get it all unpacked at once.
He hung everything up and put all their clothes away in the dresser before breaking the boxes down and bringing them out to the curb for recycling later. On his way back inside, he found another box of clothes he’d originally missed and headed upstairs with it. When he entered the room, the mattress had been upended with the sheets and blankets thrown about, and every single article of clothing he’d just put away was piled on the floor.
Letting out a slow, calming breath, Derek just went about putting everything back in order. It was fine, Ronan was just bored. Hell, if Stiles were a ghost, Derek felt like this was the same stupid, childish things he would do, too.
He was almost afraid to leave the room again in case it all ended up everywhere, but he could hear Stiles yelling downstairs, so he figured Ronan had gone back to harassing him. When he reached the ground floor again, he moved to set up the TV stand and got that going, turning it to a random cooking show for background noise. It almost instantly changed to really bad rock music on MTV. Derek figured he could live with that for now, even though Stiles stomped through the hallway soaking wet and gave him another clear “the ghost has got to go!” look.
But it would be fine. Ronan would get bored eventually, and everything would be fine.
The unpacking took longer than anticipated, because Ronan kept pushing things off where they were setting them down, like some annoying otherworldly cat. At least he’d stopped breaking dishes, which was comforting, since they didn’t have many of those to begin with.
Derek had to set the room straight an additional three times before the evening rolled around, and when he’d answered the door to greet his new neighbours, Ronan had slammed it shut in their faces. Derek had had to pretend it was the wind and awkwardly went to speak to them outside. He still wasn’t good at small talk, but Stiles managed to come and save him a minute or so later, so he survived.
Dinner was made without too much incident. He saved Stiles from burning himself on a hot pan, but it was hard to tell if that was Ronan’s doing or just Stiles’ because he was pretty much like that before they’d moved in, too.
Catching up on their shows had been difficult, because Ronan kept switching them out at random times and Stiles kept giving him “the ghost has got to go!” looks every time Derek changed the show back.
It was annoying, but Ronan wasn’t doing anything malicious. He was just having some fun, and Derek couldn’t fault him for that. The house had been empty for three months before they’d bought it, he was probably just bored.
Stiles fell asleep on the couch while Derek read a book, the channels constantly changing of their own volition in the background. Stiles wasn’t awake to gripe about it, so Derek just ignored it until close to eleven.
Shaking Stiles awake, they trudged upstairs after Derek made sure the door was locked, and took turns in the bathroom. They hadn’t figured out who would have the en suite and who would use the one down the corridor yet, but they figured they’d go through some trial and error when they both went back to work and would take it from there.
With the lights off, Derek went to join Stiles under the covers, the street lamps outside illuminating their room a little more brightly than he was used to, but he knew Stiles preferred a little light while he slept.
“I can’t believe we own a house,” Stiles said after a few moments of staring at one another. “I still can’t believe when we first met I wished you’d die and you kept throwing me against hard surfaces.”
“I had to control my urges somehow, pushing you up against hard surfaces seemed like the best option,” Derek teased.
Stiles snorted and punched his shoulder lightly, then smiled. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”
“I think that’s my line.”
“Shut up, don’t make this sappier than it already is.”
“Then stop talking,” Derek ordered, which earned him Stiles sticking his tongue out before settling more comfortably on his pillow, smiling at Derek.
It warmed his heart to see Stiles so happy, and Derek himself couldn’t remember the last time he had felt truly, genuinely happy like this. Stiles really brought out the best in him, and he was excited to see what new adventures were waiting for them, both at home and out in the world.
He was ready for the fighting, the bickering, the annoyance. He knew there would be a lot of good in there, too, but he was prepared to deal with all that came with moving in together: the good, and the bad.
If it was with Stiles, he knew he could do it. He would force himself to, if he had to, because he was never again going to lose someone important to him, and he was done pushing people away. He wanted to be happy, and he wanted to be happy with Stiles.
Derek smiled at Stiles, brushing his hand across his cheek and leaning forward to kiss him. Stiles kissed him back enthusiastically, pushing himself forward until he was right in Derek’s space. Rolling on top of him, Derek caged Stiles’ head between his forearms, sucking on his tongue lewdly before pulling away and kissing his cheek, jaw, down his neck and across his collarbone.
He started rocking his hips slowly, Stiles moaning beneath him, eyes closed and head thrown back. Derek bit at his throat, loving the submission, and the trust. One hand slid along Stiles’ covered torso while the other travelled lower, aiming to get under the hem of his pants and to his dick, but before it reached its destination, the bedroom door opened with a creak.
Stiles’ eyes snapped open and he shoved at Derek.
“Nope! No way, nope, nope, nope!” He shoved and kicked at Derek until he rolled off him, Stiles shifting away from him on the bed.
“What?” Derek asked, frustrated. He was already hard and had really been looking forward to fucking for the first time in their new house. He wanted every room to smell like them, and the bedroom was definitely top of the list.
He wanted Scott to be embarrassed to set foot in it.
“We’re not getting freaky with Ronan around,” Stiles insisted, shifting away from Derek. “I’m not getting naked with him skulking creepily in the corner like you used to do. It took me ages to feel comfortable being naked with you, no way I’m giving him a free show.” Stiles cursed then. “Showers are gonna be hard. Shit, maybe I can just shower at work? There’s a shower there.”
Stiles muttered to himself while rolling over, his back to Derek, trying to figure out what to do about showers and using the restroom, before realizing he’d already gone to the bathroom today, and now he was annoyed Ronan had seen his dick.
Derek mostly tuned him out, staring at Stiles’ back while sitting up beside him, horny, hard, and so desperately wanting to fuck him senseless right now.
In that moment, Derek could only think of one thing.
The ghost has definitely got to go!