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If you had asked Scott if his best friend is a romantic at heart he would have peed himself laughing. He’d say that sure, Stiles is one of those people who daydream from time to time (or all the time, really) but romantic? Meh, not so much.
Asking Derek, though, that would have been a whole other thing. He’d smirk and say something cryptic like, ‘Stiles can be a lot of things if he puts his mind on it. Mostly he’s an idiot,’ which, okay, it’s not really cryptic but see how he dodged the real question? Yeah, that’s because Stiles is the most ridiculously romantic person Derek knows and that says a lot when your brother is Scott. (Scott asked their mom last year to buy him candles and red roses so he could have a romantic dinner with Allison at home. They ended up burning the table cloth.)
The point is, Stiles is romantic, with a huge marshmallow for a heart and he sometimes cries at romcoms when he thinks Derek isn’t paying attention. (Derek is always paying attention. Between watching a random guy chasing after a girl for ninety minutes and watching Stiles’ expressions illuminated by the tv’s screen, it’s obvious which one he chooses.)
Derek is not entirely sold on this whole romance thing though. Not to say that he’s not in love with Stiles, he’s grown up enough to be able to say these words both to himself and even Stiles when it’s just the two of them. But buying flowers, chocolates, calling each other cute, silly pet names, drawing hearts around their names and skipping in the sun holding hands? Not so much his style.
This, however, doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to indulge Stiles from time to time.
The rain is pouring down and true to himself, Stiles has forgotten his umbrella home. It’s not nearly as terrible as Derek initially pretended the situation was and it gives them the chance to walk close together, shoulders and hips touching without walking around wrapped around each other like a couple of newly mated pigeons.
Derek doesn’t particularly care for the rain, he hates mud with a passion of an older brother who had to watch over Scott and Stiles in the park when they were kids, but he loves the smell of freshness in the air, of crisp grass and earth and cold – yes, he can smell the cold; no, it’s not weird.
“I know people hate this weather but I don’t know, I love it!” Stiles say with a smile and something else in his eyes, something sort of cloudy and dreamy. “All the best romantic scenes in movies happen in the rain.”
Oh no. Derek knows where this is going and this is so unpractical and cliché that even Stiles-
“Hey, Derek-”
“I’m not kissing you in the rain,” he says in a stern voice and it’s kind of devastating to see Stiles’ hopeful and suggestive expression being crashed, but Derek really don’t wants to do this.
“How did y-” Stiles squeaks before he goes for the always classical whiney, “But why?”
“Because it’s dumb,” and it really is, they can kiss under the sun all they want, what’s so special about rain other than making a mess? He says so to Stiles and then has to watch him squirm and do the whole ‘huff puff, I don’t know why I bother with you’ dance with his shoulders.
“Stop moving, you’re gonna get wet,” Derek still tries to warn him against the unavoidable – he can see it now – mess that will be left in his Camaro and Derek will probably have to take care of in the cold.
“Well, excuse me for being dumb!”
What? That’s not what Derek meant.
“That’s not what I meant.” How could Stiles even think that?
“Oh of course not, you just meant that your car is more important.” Derek never likes seeing this look on Stiles’ face. He’s so expressive that most of the time he doesn’t need words even though he has plenty of them if needed. But his face always speaks for him before his mouth does and right now he looks annoyed and disappointed.
Disappointed. At Derek. Because he thinks Derek cares more about the car (which, okay, he loves his car, he takes good care of it and he has serious reasons for not letting either Scott or Stiles drive it, but it’s not more important than Stiles. Not many things are in his life.)
“Stiles-” he tries but Stiles has already started walking faster.
“It’s fine,” he says dismissively, “let’s just go back to the stupid car.”
Derek doesn’t like getting wet but he likes Stiles turning his back to him even less so he makes a quick decision and wonders when he stopped being able to deny Stiles anything.
“If you’re purposely getting me wet so you can make me walk home, I’m-” Stiles says as he starts turning around.
“No,” is all Derek can say and he knows how ridiculous his hair looks wet, Stiles hasn’t failed to let him know, but he doesn’t move.
Stiles looks at him, still annoyed but the edges of his eyes have started softening and Derek knows that he’d probably make him beg and grovel if he could, but thankfully Stiles doesn’t have the attention span to do that. “Your car is going to stink, you know,” he still tries.
“Yup,” Derek agrees.
“The smell won’t go away for days.” It’s cute is what it is, and Derek is so pathetically in love with this crazy kid that he’s letting the rain drench his coat and start seeping in his shirt while cold rivulets run down his face, dripping from his hair.
“Yeah,” Derek whispers, barely loud enough to be heard over the thunderous sound of the clouds and the water pelting the benches, the cars and the road around them.
“And-” Stiles still tries to be persistent but Derek really doesn’t want to hear anymore.
“Just kiss me already motormouth,” he grins against Stiles’ cold lips.
“Bossypants,” Stiles has to have the last word and with that his mouth closes over Derek’s, their lips finding warmth in each other as they taste rain, smiles and love.