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halevetica · 2 years

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Feels Like Home

Derek sat outside of the small coffee shop watching young couples, overworked mothers, and tired college students come and go. He held his own steaming cup in his hands. His jacket pulled tightly around him, his scarf wrapped around his neck. It was a bit too cold to be sitting outside. Not many others were and not for long, but Derek needed this. He needed something to kill the whirring in his chest. It felt like a hurricane under his skin. At first he thought it was him being homesick but when he visited Beacon Hills, nothing was the same. Stiles had joined the FBI. Isaac had moved to France. Lydia went off to some fancy school. Scott became a vet in Los Angeles. His house had been torn down and was now being turned into a park.

The feeling only continued to get worse. He felt restless. He had been traveling since he split from Braden almost four years ago. He never stayed anywhere long because it felt wrong. Nowhere felt like home anymore. He was a drifter with nothing to root him into place. He'd even visited Cora for a few months before having to move on.

Now he sat at a small coffee shop in New York City seeking comfort in the faint memories he'd made here years ago with Laura. They'd sit at this very table and people watch for hours. Laura would make up stories about the bickering couple that walked by, or the teenagers seeking their caffeine high for the day.

Derek watched a mother with their teenage daughter walk by. He imagined what Laura would say about them.

Perhaps she'd claim the mother was lecturing her daughter about choosing boys over her grades while the daughter ignored her in favor of texting her friends.

The thought brought a smile to his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The cold November air burned his lungs. The sun would be setting soon and it would be too cold to people watch. He tipped back the last of his coffee and stood to make his way...somewhere. Back to the hotel he was staying in? That thought made his chest tighten. Perhaps he'd find something to occupy himself on the way.

He tossed his empty cup into the nearby trash and headed down the busy sidewalk. He was never a fan of big cities. It had too many scents and noises. Laura said that was what made it the perfect place to live until they knew they were safe from hunters.

Derek tried not to breath too deep as he continued down the sidewalk. He let his feet carry him aimlessly through the crowded streets, navigating traffic and pedestrians with ease, until he found himself standing at the entrance of central park.

Laura loved to go running here. It was the closest thing to home at the time. Derek had rolled his eyes claiming the handful of trees didn't compare to the reserve. He stood by that even now. Though lately even the reserve didn't feel like home.

He closed his eyes and imagined Laura's laughter as she taunted him for lagging behind. She had always been faster and stronger than him.

"Derek?" A familiar voice yanked him from his memory.

He opened his eyes to see Stiles Stilinski walking towards him from the park's entrance. He looked older than the last time Derek had seen him. His hair was longer and his jaw more chiseled. He had stubble that shadowed his chin and cheeks. It was a good look.

"Dude, what are you doing here?" Stiles asked, coming in for a hug.

Derek reciprocated the hug awkwardly, still caught off guard by the sudden appearance of an old pack member.

"I uh, I'm in town for a bit," Derek answered lamely. He didn't know what he was doing here. Chasing old memories in search of comfort? That wasn't something he wanted to admit to.

"How long?" Stiles asked shifting a bag on his shoulder.

"I'm not sure. What are you doing here?" Derek had thought Stiles was in Virgina.

"I took a job here about six months ago, working with the local FBI."

"Oh. That's great." Derek forced a smile. Stiles seemed different. Happy maybe.

"Are you busy?" Stiles glanced around as if expecting to see someone else with Derek.

"No, I was just..." Derek gestured to the park.

Stiles raised a brow but didn't pry when Derek didn't elaborate.

Derek's chest warmed. He forgot how understanding Stiles was. He never had to explain himself to him.

"Well, I was thinking of grabbing something to eat. If you have the time...you should join me."

Derek smelled the caution in Stiles' scent. He smiled. "I'd like that."

Stiles beamed. He'd clearly been expecting a rejection.

As they walked, Stiles caught Derek up on his life. Derek listened intently being sure to ask questions to keep the conversation on Stiles.

It wasn't until they were seated at the table in the small Italian restaurant that Stiles gave Derek a pointed look.

"So are we going to continue to avoid talking about you or are you gonna tell me what you're doing in New York?"

Derek dropped his eyes to his lap where he had laid his napkin. He smoothed the creases of it before looking back up at Stiles.

"Is something wrong?" Stiles' tone dropped into worry as he leaned forward.

"No. I'm fine." Derek gave a small smile at Stiles' concern.

Stiles narrowed his eyes but didn't argue. Instead he waited for Derek to continue.

"I've been here about a month. Laura and I lived here for a while after the fire."

Stiles nodded. "Right. I remember."

"I umm, guess I'm just missing her." Derek dropped his gaze back to his napkin. He plucked at a loose thread as he continued. "I've been traveling a bit. Just came from visiting Cora actually."

"I figured you'd settle down somewhere, build a pack." Stiles frowned.

Derek's lips pulled into a line. "I haven't found anywhere that feels...right. Ya know?" his eyes came up to meet Stiles'.

Stiles shifted in his seat. "Yeah. It's hard to find where you belong when everyone you know is scattered to the wind."

Derek nodded. "I went back to Beacon Hills recently."

"Nothing is the same." Stiles shook his head.

"Yeah, it felt...strange," Derek agreed.

"Do you talk to anyone from Beacon Hills anymore?" Stiles asked.

"Not really, no. Cora is the only one. You?"

Stiles nodded sadly. "I talk to Scott on occasion. Lydia sends emails sometimes. I even got a postcard from Isaac once though that was three years ago now. Haven't heard from Cora or Malia in several years. I actually ran into Jackson and Ethan while on a case last year, but I didn't have time to catch up."

"I should have reached out." Derek smelled the disappointment on Stiles. It was familiar. It reminded him of the early days in Beacon Hills. Stiles usually smelled upset or disappointed or worried.

"I uh...thought about reaching out myself. I looked you up in the database but..." Stiles trailed off.

"Why didn't you?" Derek pressed. He wondered how he would have reacted to a random call from Stiles Stilinski. He imagined he'd have been pleased.

"I figured if you wanted to talk you'd reach out. I know how important your privacy is to you," Stiles shrugged, reaching for the water in front of him.

Derek's chest warmed once again.

"I would have liked to hear from you," Derek admitted.

"Why didn't you reach out?" Stiles dared ask, his eyes lifting to meet Derek's.

"I heard you got out. I had a lot of demons chasing me for a while. Once I finally shook them...I realized you were probably better off."

Stiles gave a derisive snort.

"It's good to see you though," Derek said with a sincerity in his tone that caused Stiles to look up with a frown. "It's nice to see someone...familiar."

"Yeah. It feels...comfortable." Stiles smiled.

Derek cleared his throat. "So you live nearby or..."

Stiles allowed the subject change. He knew Derek would say more when he wanted to. For now he'd allow him to avoid whatever he was trying to avoid.

After dinner, Stiles and Derek stepped back into the cold air. The sun had set well beneath the horizon, making the cold bite through their clothes, sending shivers down their spines.

"So are you staying nearby?" Stiles asked, pulling his coat tighter around him.

"Uh," Derek glanced to the Hilton Garden Inn. "Yeah. Not far."

Stiles blinked at Derek. "I'm sorry, are you staying in a hotel?"

Derek dropped his chin to his chest.

"Oh my god, Derek." Stiles threw his arms up. "You've been here a month."

Derek shrugged. He hadn't even planned to stay here that long but he didn't know where to go next and he hoped that if he stuck around long enough it would start to feel like home. It didn't.

"Come on, you're staying with me. I have a spare room you can use." Stiles turned to walk down the sidewalk but Derek didn't follow.

"What?" Stiles frowned when he noticed Derek wasn't behind him.

"I haven't seen you in years."

"So?"

"So we're not friends anymore."

Stiles' brows raised. "I'm offended."

"I just meant..." Derek trailed off with a sigh.

"If you're worried about me taking you back to my place, I bought you dinner first." Stiles gave a teasing grin.

Derek rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"Come on, you'll have your own bathroom. I won't hog the TV and you get the house to yourself while I'm at work," Stiles pressed.

Derek squinted at Stiles. "You're serious."

"Dude, yes. Now come on, it's freezing. We can swing through and get your stuff on the way." Stiles started down the sidewalk again. This time Derek followed suit.

Derek wasn't sure what he expected when he walked into Stiles' apartment, but it was not this. The small living room was decorated in warm browns and deep reds. The microfiber couch was a chocolate brown, draped in a dark red blanket. The walnut coffee table sat between the couch and the fake fireplace where the TV hung. On the walls were framed pictures of Stiles' FBI certifications and his dad in uniform. The room smelled strongly of Stiles and sandalwood.

"Make yourself comfortable." Stiles hung his keys on a hook by the door before laying his bag on a small table below them.

"It's nice." Derek's eyed trailed to the small kitchen where a bar with two stools separated the living room from the stove. On it sat a bowl with two overripe bananas and a single apple. The fridge held pictures of Scott and Stiles from years ago along with a wedding invitation for a couple Derek didn't know. The sink was void of dirty dishes minus a single solo cup.

"This is the bathroom," Stiles gestured to a door just inside the hall. "And this is your room." He pointed to a spacious room with a queen size bed in the middle. It was decorated in deep blues with baseball pictures on the wall.

Derek thought he recognized a couple of the posters from Stiles' room back in Beacon Hills.

"My room is there." Stiles pointed to the other end of the short hallway.

"You're sure you don't mind?" Derek asked.

"Stay as long as you like." Stiles held his arms out. "Mi casa es tu casa."

Derek couldn't help the frown that tugged on his brows. He didn't even know what home felt like anymore.

"So yeah, the bed is good to go cause I never have company. Uh...there are towels in the bathroom closet. I don't have any soap or shampoo but I can get mine if you-"

"I stole the hotel toiletries," Derek interrupted.

Stiles blinked at Derek. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I took the shampoo and soap from the hotel." Derek held up his duffel bag.

"I was already concerned by the severe lack of luggage but now you're telling me you've just been using hotel soap?"

"What's wrong with that?" Derek frowned.

"Nothing. I just...you've been in town for a month."

Derek shrugged.

Stiles cocked his head in a way that Derek remembered well. It was something he did when he was putting together clues to solve a case. "Okay, well I'll let you settle in." He took a step back as if to show he was giving Derek space.

"Thank you, Stiles," Derek said, a sincerity to his tone that Stiles didn't hear often.

"Course." Stiles smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Derek watched him close himself in his room, leaving Derek standing in the hall.

Derek woke late the next morning. He'd slept better than he had in weeks. His muscles were less sore than usual. He padded into Stiles kitchen in his pajama pants to see the apartment empty. Laid on the counter was a note from Stiles.

'Had to be at work early. Should be back by five. Hope you slept well. Make yourself at home.'

Derek smiled down at the note before opening the fridge. His smile grew at the sight of a pack of Pepsi, a jar of pickles and an old box of cold pizza. He should have guessed Stiles' fridge wouldn't be stocked. He shook his head before heading back to his room. If Stiles was going to allow him to stay, the least he could do was buy groceries.

Two hours later Derek had hauled all the groceries up to Stiles' apartment, covering his kitchen counter in jars of pasta sauce and boxes of noodles. Bags of rice and chicken stock. Anything he thought Stiles might need or use.

He put all the food away in what seemed like the correct places before checking the time. Stiles wouldn't be home for a few more hours.

The whirring in Derek's chest made him close his eyes. He recalled what he would do when he was bored at home while Laura was at work. Cook.

"Well I did just go shopping," he muttered to himself.

He pulled out a couple pots and pans that he'd come across while searching through Stiles' cabinets. They looked almost brand new.

Stiles stepped out of the elevator and was hit with a smell so good his stomach rumbled. He realized he was starving. He'd skipped lunch in favor of trying to solve his latest problem. He would have to see if Derek wanted to grab dinner with him because he was certain he didn't have anything to make.

He opened the door, only to be hit in the face with the smell from the hallway. Derek was in his kitchen with a towel tossed over his shoulder and a spread of several different dishes laid out in front of him.

"Just in time. Hungry?" Derek asked, pulling the towel from his shoulder and wringing it between his hands.

Stiles stood stunned. "What—"

"You didn't really have anything so I went to the store and then I was feeling...well I thought maybe you wouldn't mind." Derek gestured to the dinner he'd made.

"Wow. This is...Derek...I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"I didn't know what you liked so I made a few different things. This is Cheese stuffed mushrooms. This is butternut squash gnocchi with sage brown sugar. This is pork tenderloins with caramelized pears in a pear brandy cream sauce. And these are sautéed baby root vegetables." Derek pointed to each dish.

"Dude." Stiles hung his keys and dropped his bag. "One, what did I do to deserve this? And two, when did you learn to cook like this?"

Derek pulled out two plates. "My mom taught me and Laura. I used to cook for Laura when she was at work. It helped keep my mind busy. And as far as deserving it..." he spooned the different dishes onto one of the plates before setting it in front of Stiles. "You gave me a place to stay."

Stiles' stomach rumbled once again.

"Sounds like you're hungry," Derek held back a smile.

"Dude, I could kiss you, this is amazing," Stiles said around a bite of mushroom.

Derek's head dipped bashfully. "Glad you like it." He reached for a bag on the counter and pulled two bottles out.

"You'd be proud, I bought shampoo." he held up one of the bottles that was indeed labeled 'Shampoo'.

Stiles laughed, a pleased look on his face.

Through dinner Derek listened to Stiles' day, happy to have company. He missed Stiles' ramblings and fun facts. It took him back to long days researching at the loft.

"So I would ask how your day was but..." Stiles gestured to the kitchen. "I think I know."

"I hope you don't mind." Derek set his fork on his now empty plate.

"Are you kidding? If I had known you could cook, I would have hunted your ass down way earlier." Stiles took his and Derek's plate to the sink.

Derek's chest warmed at Stiles' words. He liked that Stiles enjoyed his cooking. He hadn't cooked for anyone since Laura. It felt good.

After dinner, Stiles worked on his case so Derek busied himself with a Sudoku book he'd bought from the store earlier.

Stiles, who was flipping through the pages of his file, paused and looked over at Derek who was sitting cross legged on the end of the couch. He wore a plain white tank top and grey sweatpants. The sudoku book was folded in his left hand. It was the most domestic he'd ever seen Derek. His stomach fluttered. It was strange having Derek in his space but he enjoyed it. It felt right.

"You're staring," Derek said, not looking up from his book.

"I was just think how odd this is, having you here."

Derek looked up, his shoulders straightening.

"But also it's so...natural. Almost like...you belong? I dunno, sorry if that's weird." Stiles turned back to his file.

"It's not weird. I know what you mean. It's familiar but also...not." Derek relaxed his shoulders. The scent on Stiles was contentment. He had worried he'd been too quick to fall into the comfort of Stiles' house. But something about being in Stiles' space was...relaxing.

Stiles walked into his apartment to the smell of garlic and onions cooking. "Honey I'm home," he called playfully.

Derek turned around, the towel tossed over his shoulder like it so often was. "Hey, you're home early."

"It smells amazing." Stiles peered over Derek's shoulder where he was sautéing garlic and onions in a pan of oil.

"It won't be ready for another thirty minutes," Derek apologized.

"Dude, you don't have to have it ready when I get home." Stiles laughed shaking his head.

"I like to though." Derek shrugged, pushing the vegetables across the pan with his wooden spoon.

"Well I appreciate it." Stiles stepped back and grabbed a pepper from the cutting board. "Can't wait to see what you're gonna create tonight, Gordon Ramsey."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head.

"Gonna go shower."

Derek turned to watch Stiles retreat into the apartment. It had been almost two weeks since Derek had started staying with Stiles. He'd settled in quickly and found that he wasn't waiting for his next move.

He glanced around. His favorite mug had a place on Stiles' counter next to the coffee maker. His books had made a home on the new bookcase Stiles bought. A second hook had been hung next to Stiles' keys for his own. His clothes were folded next to Stiles' on the dryer. His herb plants lined the balcony.

Their lives had intertwined so easily. Derek found he enjoyed gardening and cooking while Stiles was at work. On weekends the two would get coffee and take walks through central park.

Derek placed a hand on his chest. The whirring force of the hurricane that had taken up residency under his skin had simmered. Being here with Stiles was the first time that feeling had gone away. He wondered at what point it had started to dissipate. Had it been when Stiles gave Derek a spare key? Had it been when Stiles started leaving notes regularly for him in the morning? Had it been when Stiles asked Derek's opinion on the new couch cushions he bought?

Derek considered what it was about Stiles' space that made him so comfortable as he finished dinner. By the time Stiles had finished showering and joined him in the kitchen he'd decided that it was just Stiles. He'd always been comfortable around him and felt safe. Stiles had even at one point been his anchor.

Suddenly Derek whipped around to face Stiles who was taking his seat at the counter.

"What's wrong?" Stiles frowned at Derek's panicked expression.

Derek didn't know how he hadn't realized it sooner. Stiles was his anchor. He'd been searching for something to ground him for years. And the entire time it was Stiles.

"Derek?" Stiles slid off the chair and reached for Derek's forearm.

Derek closed his eyes as Stiles' soothing touch washed over him. A warmth spread through him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Stiles squeezed Derek's arm gently.

Derek opened his eyes, collecting himself. "Nothing. I just forgot an ingredient for dinner. But it's fine." He turned away from Stiles.

He tried to push down the panic but now that he realized that Stiles was what had been missing from his life he didn't know how he could leave. He knew it was only a matter of time before Stiles wanted Derek to move out. But Derek didn't want to leave. Stiles felt like home, something he'd been searching for for a long time.

"You sure?" Stiles pressed, his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. Come on, let's eat." Derek put on a soft smile and made Stiles' plate.

Stiles reclaimed his seat.

Derek was thankful Stiles didn't pry. He guessed though by the frown on his face that he didn't believe Derek.

Stiles told Derek about his day over dinner like he did every night. Derek did his best to pay attention but all he could think about was how much he'd miss this.

"Dinner was amazing as usual." Stiles took his and Derek's plates to the sink.

"I'm thinking of getting my own place," Derek blurted. He'd seen a neighbor down the hall moving out the day before. Perhaps if he could stay close to Stiles he would remain grounded.

The plates slipped from Stiles' grip and clattered loudly in the sink. He cleared his throat.

"Oh?" Stiles turned on the water.

"An apartment down the hall opened up." Derek swallowed.

Stiles took in a shaky breath. He knew this day would come, he'd just hoped it wouldn't be so soon. "Okay." He fought to keep his tone even.

Derek tried to decipher the different scents on Stiles. Disappointment. Anger. Understanding.

"I've taken up enough of your space and—"

Stiles cut the water off and turned to face Derek, causing him to cut his sentence short.

"You're not taking up my space Derek. This is your space too." Stiles' tone was sharper than he'd intended.

Derek didn't respond.

Stiles wiped his hands on a towel and sighed. "If that's really what you want then okay, but please don't feel like you're doing me any favors by moving out."

Derek's brows furrowed. Did Stiles really want him to stay?

"Look, I get it; you don't stay in one place long. But don't move into the apartment down the hall for a few months if you're just planning on leaving again. Stay here. When you're ready to move on, then...okay. But it's stupid to get another apartment temporarily," Stiles continued.

"I didn't mean to upset you." Derek couldn't ignore the irritation in Stiles' scent.

"You didn't."

Derek noted the lack of skips in Stiles' heartbeat. He wasn't lying.

"Then what did?"

Stiles looked at Derek and sighed. "I did."

Derek's frown deepened.

"I got comfortable having you here. I knew you wouldn't stay and yet I still..." Stiles trailed off. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." Derek took a step towards Stiles.

"Having you here has been..." Stiles licked at his licks. "Honestly, it's been incredible."

Derek's chest warmed at Stiles' words.

"It feels like you belong here and I don't know why. I love having you here. I love your coffee cup next to mine. I love your books on my shelf. I love your sudoku puzzles. I love your herb plants on my balcony. I love watching the game with you. I love getting coffee and watching the pigeons on our walks. I love—" Stiles cut himself off.

Derek took another step towards Stiles. "I love those things too. But what happens when you tire of my things in your space? Or when you..." he swallowed. "Meet someone."

Stiles scoffed. "Yeah."

"I'm serious, Stiles."

"What are you running from?" Stiles snapped, catching Derek off guard.

"What?"

"You've been all over the place. You never stay in one place long. You were staying in a hotel." Stiles threw his arms up.

"I'm not running from anything."

"Then what are you looking for?"

Derek's lips pulled into a tight line.

Stiles would normally back off, sensing Derek didn't want to talk about it, but this time he pushed.

"You've been searching for something. What is it?"

"Home." Derek said, barely above a whisper.

Stiles wasn't sure what he'd been expecting Derek to say but it wasn't that.

"Oh. Well...I don't want to stop you from finding that." He spoke just as quietly.

"Stiles." Derek took a step forward.

Stiles took a step back, bumping into the counter behind him.

"I'm gonna be honest with you because you deserve to know." Derek pulled in a slow breath. "I found my home. Here with you."

Stiles' mouth fell open.

"I realized it earlier and...it scared me."

Stiles didn't dare move or speak.

"You're my anchor. Have been for years. I just never realized that this torrent that I've been trying to quell wasn't a storm at all. It was a hole."

Stiles swallowed. This had to be a dream.

"This." Derek gestured around the apartment. "You. It feels like home."

"Then why are you trying to leave?" Stiles dared ask. His voice a whisper.

"Because I'm afraid if I don't leave now, I won't be able to later."

"Then don't ever leave."

Derek frowned.

"I didn't realize what was missing in my life until you showed up. When you're here I feel...better."

Derek's ears pricked for any hint of a lie.

"When you left all those years ago, you took a piece of me with you. Now that you're back...I don't want you to go."

"Really?" Derek searched Stiles face for any doubt, listened for any hesitation.

"Derek." Stiles stepped forward and the smell of worry, and anxiety singed Derek's nose. "I don't want your shampoo bottles to be in the spare bathroom. I want them to be in mine."

Derek's lips pulled into a fond smile before surging forward. His fingers clutched at the sides of Stiles' face as their lips connected gently.

Stiles' hands gripped at the t-shirt Derek wore, holding him close. Dizziness swept over him. This wasn't real. There was no way Derek Hale was kissing him.

Derek pulled back, keeping their foreheads together.

"Does this mean you'll stay?" Stiles asked between them, his hands still gripping at Derek's shirt.

"As long as you'll have me." Derek closed his eyes relishing in the comfort and warmth of Stiles' presence.

Derek's shampoo fit perfectly on the shelf next to Stiles', much like the rest of his things did in Stiles' apartment.

Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!

#sterek #sterekweek2022 #sterekhome #one shot #ficlet #my writing-h

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