“Derek? Derek! You picked up! Oh thank god, I didn't know if you were gonna pick up I called you like five times-oh shit you were probably getting ready that's why you didn't pick up, wow I'm a complete ass of course you were getting ready I'm supposed to be over at your place in like fifteen, you were probably ab-”
“Stiles if you want to cancel just say so.” Derek knew that Stiles babbled when he didn't want to say something outright. Derek should've known Stiles would back out. It made sense; Derek was a leather wearing emotionally constipated sourwolf who had a dead family and a psychotic killer ex-girlfriend and had only stopped being a complete dick to Stiles and actually including him in things a couple of months ago. He didn't even know why Stiles had agreed to this date in the first place.
“But I don't! I really, really don't.” Derek's eyebrows shot up from their previously broody position at Stiles' somewhat desperate tone. “I just... there's been some, uh, complications.”
“Complications.” Mother moon if this involved Scott and his moody werewolf antics-yes, Derek had those too but his had never ruined one of Scott's dates-Derek was going to punch something. Preferably something in the form of Scott's nose.
“Yeah. Y'see, I was running late and I thought it would be a good idea t-OUCH okay more of the numbing stuff please and thank you-to take the short cut so I could make it on time and, well... a tree fell on me.”
“A tree fell on you?!” Derek didn't know his voice could go that high. He would be embarrassed if his heart wasn't hammering an ears roaring.Pack hurt. Stiles hurt. His wolf growled and rumbled in his chest, making his senses pan out so he could hear Stiles' heartbeat and breath over the line. Both were steady, fast as usual for a human. This didn't do much to ease Derek's sudden anxiety.
“No, not on me exactly, on my jeep-my poor, precious jeep-but I'm a little banged up-”
“Where are you?” Derek was already scrambling for his keys-why couldn't he ever just hang them up-and slamming around the kitchen to turn off the oven and stove.
“Derek, honestly, you're overreacting. I'm okay, you don't have t-”
“Where. Are. You.”
“Okay, scary werewolf voice with lots of inflection.” Stiles hissed with pain and Derek's hand crushed the doorknob. “At the hospital. ER wing. The nurse stitching me up needs to get her eyes tested.” Stiles' words disappeared on another breath of pain.
“I'll see you in twenty.” Derek's voice was rough and words were choked on his fangs. He could feel hair expanding over his forehead and encroaching his eyebrows. He braced himself against the hood of the car, breathing deeply to regain control of himself.
“The hospital is forty minutes away.” Stiles said weakly.
“Twenty, Stiles.” Derek hung up and climbed in the Camaro, stepping on the gas and speeding towards the hospital. Hopefully the Sheriff wasn't on duty tonight. Awkward conversations with his mat-Stiles' father about how his son was injured while driving to his house weren't on Derek's top list of things to do for the evening.
The roads were silent and made the static of worry permeate Derek's brain. His ears itched and his foot didn't have the ability to lift from the gas to the brake, even as Derek blew through a red light and a horn blared, the sound quickly swallowed by the dark of a winter night.
Slow the fuck down unless you want to be wolfy roadkill.
Shit , Derek was in deep. He didn't even know how he had started liking Stiles as a friend, let alone a possible... mate.
The clumsy, hyperactive idiot that was a Stiles had wriggled his way into Derek's thoughts and heart and Derek didn't know whether he wanted to rip the offending organ right out of his chest or just let Stiles burrow deeper.
It had started as a simple thought about Stiles' chip preference while Derek was at the grocery store-
“Hello, Cheetos over Lays any day.” (Stiles mouth was dusted in orange and he was talking with his mouth full and Derek didn't care because his words were warm and wrapped Derek in comfort and he never wanted to have to miss this)
With some debating on whether or not to go to his next lacrosse game-
“You're doing your scowly eyebrow thinking face and you're gonna get wrinkles. Wait, do werewolves even get wrinkles or do they just get another advantage that the evolutionary system has not deigned us mortal beings known as humans worthy enough for?” (Derek had gone and Stiles had sat on the bench the whole time but Derek didn't care because he had gotten a wink and smile that could melt icebergs and he felt shards of his heart jarr loose and his chest loosened up and he didn't know the last time breathing had been this easy)
To full blown wondering about how Stiles slept every night-
“Yeah, I don't really sleep that much. Homework, research, nightmares about all of the supernatural things that go bump in the night. You know, usual teenage shit.” (Derek wanted to wrap Stiles in his arms at night while their legs tangled together and their breath mingled in the space between their lips and wrestle the nightmares into submission at night while never letting Stiles go)
And memorizing how he took his coffee in the morning after staying the night because he didn't want his dad to see his hurts-
“Ohmigodthisissoperfectfuck” (Derek had needed a cold shower after Stiles continued to groan and slurp his coffee and throw his head back in pleasure and fuck if he didn't feel like shit after he jerked off to those images and more but he had gone from crawling to plummeting head first down a cliff and he didn't know how to stop this)
And staring at his face too long during pack meetings-
“Why are you looking at me like-oh there's something on my face isn't there? Dangers of boiling a vat of spaghetti sauce I guess. Where is it?” (Derek had just opened and closed his mouth before picking out a spot on Stiles face at random and pretending to wipe it off just so he could touch his pale freckled skin and electricity flared through his fingers and hope surged through him at Stiles' small gasp and his head spun because he didn't know how to have feelings anymore)
And scenting Stiles so much that even Scott had started to notice-
“Dude, you reek of Derek. If I didn't know better I'd think you guys were mates or something.” (Derek had just watched from a distance as Stiles' ears flared pink and his heart started hammering but it wasn't a nervous hammering it was an excited hammering and when Derek caught his scent on the slight breeze of the forest all he smelled was happiness and hope with the sharp tones of desire and now he was sure his scent mimicked Stiles')
And then finally asking Stiles out in a stilted and awkward way that only Derek could manage-
“Will you, um, would you... Me and you...Date?” (Stiles had spluttered and Derek's heart almost had time to die again before he was pressed up against a wall and legs were around his waist and Derek didn't know that lips could ever be this soft and he didn't even want to breathe because he didn't want this to break)
The light of the hospital spilled through Derek's wind shield. A nurse yelled at him when he parked in front of the ER doors, but Stiles' voice reached Derek through the din and he was over to the curtain in a heartbeat.
“Yes, I am very aware of my injuries, no, I do not want to stay overnight for observation I am fine and eighteen so do not call my father-” Derek ripped the curtain back, startling the nurse and making Stiles smile. Eleven stitches ran through his forehead and there were splints around three of his fingers and one of his eyes was swollen shut and Derek didn't know how he could touch him.
Stiles reached for Derek's hand and pulled him closer. “How's having an idiot for a boyfriend?” Derek saw Stiles tense when he realized what word he'd used and Derek knew it wasn't the right word to describe Stiles but it would work for now.
“Everything I ever needed.”