That's not really a threat. I like it when you fuck me. You're good at it. Total studmuffin. Just like the shirt says.
[ derek gets off of doscoe and runs his hand over her driver's side handle. he could just... take her home now. there's nothing stopping him, really. she's all full up, she's ready to roll out. he'll have to take her back in, eventually, just to add the finishing touches, but - he could do it. there's no reason why he couldn't do it.
he's even got her keys all prettied up; there's a little lacrosse stick charm on the keyring, right next to a little sheriff's badge. derek opens the driver's side door and slips inside, shutting it behind him and settling against the seats. he breathes in, then out. he focuses on his phone. ]
Actually - hey. I know this is kind of an insane question, but would you be open to having more than one pet? Eventually. Not now. I just mean, like. In the future. One day. Hypothetically. I know cats aren't pack animals. I obviously know that cats aren't pack animals. But. She should have a pack. I mean - other than you.
Whoa. Don't try to sweet talk me. That's not how this is supposed to go.
[ but honestly, tell him more about how much you like it when he fucks you, he's into it.
stiles twists on the couch, rolls over onto his stomach, curling one arm under his cheek and reaching his other one out a little so he can snap another picture of their cat. she's still stretched out, mostly, but she'd dragged one of derek's shoes a little closer, rubbing her stupid face against the heel.
stiles sends the photo before addressing the rest of the text, his interest piqued. ]
Would you be open to having more than one pet? You seem kinda stressed about this one as it is.
[ like, all the time. ]
I wouldn't be opposed to getting her a friend. Were you thinking another cat, or Something else? Also, you're not slick. You're her pack too. She's gonna have to accept it eventually.
[ that first message comes through, and derek starts typing up his reply, but then he immediately gets annoyed and backspaces it all in reaction to the follow up photo that comes through. ]
I was going to go pretty deep into it. Call you sexy, talk about how badly I want you. Send you a photo of my ass, or something. Not happening now. You're letting her get her ugly little goblin face all over my shoe. She's going to get fish crumbs and fur-vomit everywhere. Or she'll eat it. I'm going to eat her, if she does. Bones and all.
Anyway.
[ ... anyway. ]
I'm not stressed. About her. I mean. Not exactly? It's complicated. I'm just... I'm stressed about aspects of her. And I'm not her pack.
You're so bad at lying. Also Hey Do you think maybe she's not interested in being your best friend Because you call her things like "ugly little goblin"? I'm just saying. Anyway, she's fine. I'm watching her.
[ he's not, he's texting. ]
What aspects of her stress you out? Don't say the cat aspect And I've got literally nothing to do all day, buddy I'll lay here and argue that you're her pack until the sun goes down. Try me.
She's an ugly little goblin with ugly little goblin teeth. That's not an insult. It's just a fact. I'm literally just stating a fact. There's nothing morally reprehensible about being brutally honest to someone's face. More people should talk to their cats like I talk to mine. Yours. Ours. Whateer.
Nothing. I lied. She doesn't stress me out at all.
Or. I don't know. It's just the same old shit. You know? I kind of love her. A lot. Which is disgusting. Pirate kings would make their crew walk the plank for less. And - I don't know if you've noticed, but - Since we started giving her her food together, she's been getting. Better? Around me. Which. Is nice.
[ there is literally no way that stiles hasn't noticed, if only because derek keeps shooting him these panicked and vaguely excited looks every time the cat walks past him without freaking out or freezing, but. for his dignity's sake, derek will pretend he hasn't been that obvious about it. ]
But.
She'll never like me as much as she likes you. Which is okay. Everyone has a favorite. I like you more than I like her. So. It's not like I can even blame her? But. I want. Her. To love me. More.
[ don't talk shit. or laugh. he's beaten people up for less. ]
[ stiles almost interrupts to give derek shit for calling her "mine", which is... honestly very endearing when he's been trying to play it off like she's the worst thing that's happened to their home thus far. he wants to tease him for it, but stiles lets him continue instead, idly shifting his attention back to the cat for a moment as the little typing indicator rolls and bounces on his screen.
she's moved on from rubbing her face all over it, and instead has decided to lay over the front half, like she's protecting it from something or keeping it warm. stiles takes another picture, but doesn't send it. he swipes back over to his messages, reads, flips back over onto his back.
he's... charmed. ]
I've noticed. I pay attention. It's slow going, but she's definitely doing a lot better. And you thought she'd never like you at all I mean to be honest I have been telling her how great I think you are when you're not home So I'll take some credit for her progress
[ kidding. stiles randomly decides to send the last photo of her he just took. ]
Obviously it's just going to take some time. Also you might be down a shoe I don't know what the hell she's doing
derek is charmed, too. stiles is patient with him through all of these weird, awkward little tantrums about their cat. he's always putting up with derek's heightened tension and his displays of stupidly rigid behaviour around her. always being supportive, when he tells him that he loves her, or worries that she'll always be afraid of him. stiles loves him. the cat's starting to love him, slowly but surely.
he feels like he's got a family again. ]
She can have the shoe. I don't mind.
[ and then -
and then - he sends stiles a photo. it's not much. certainly not an ass pic. he's inside the jeep, holding up stiles' keys in front of him, silver and pretty in the light. he snaps a photo of his hand so the keychain's charms are both visible, the little lacrosse stick, the little sheriff's badge. derek sends it off without saying what it is, without giving context - it's just derek's hand, the inside view of a windshield and a view of the open garage door leading out into the Up. ]
[ and he actually does, lolling his head to the side so he can look at her. she flicks her tail a little, eyes closed like she's content. your dad says you can have his shoe, you little weirdo, he says, like she understands english.
stiles looks back at his phone, thumbs poised to tap out another text when a photo comes through. he taps it with his thumb, then touches both thumbs to the screen and drags them outward, zooming in a little.
his brows furrow. he's not entirely sure what he's looking at. well, no, he can obviously tell that it's derek's hand, holding a set of keys, and that he's sitting in a car at the garage. stiles moves the photo around a little, wondering if there's something he's supposed to be looking for, or if derek's just - allowing him to see a little bit of his day. he drags the keys back into center frame, absently drawing both of his legs up a little so his knees are bent and his feet are pressed flat against the count cushions, and he focuses on the little charms.
a lacrosse stick and - a badge. a sheriff badge, which is... oddly specific. and relevant to stiles. the two things together are relevant to stiles, but stiles is... having a hard time putting two and two together. mostly because he'd never expect derek to bring home a fucking car for him.
maybe a car for himself, though. maybe the charms are just coincidence, and derek is just showing him because of the coincidence. hmm. ]
Man What are the odds that one of your customers is also into lacrosse and has some kinda connection to the police department Am I going to have to defend my place as your boyfriend Are they super hot Cause I'm actually like, really comfortable right now I'll get up if I have to, but
[ he doubts she'll listen, but he doesn't say as much. derek's heart feels too big for his chest, nervous energy making it beat a little faster now that the photo's out there. stiles doesn't seem to get what's happening, and it makes derek laugh harder than usual, just - open and relieved and kind of incredulous. stiles is an excellent detective, but he's always slow to notice someone doing something for him.
derek gets out of the jeep. ]
Don't take this the wrong way, but. The guy who owns this car might honestly be the hottest person I've ever seen. Nobody holds a candle to him. Present company included.
[ stiles, of course, is the owner - derek's just the present company in charge of driving it back to the den. he closes doscoe's door behind him and walks over the concrete of the garage, taking steps towards open cans of paint. there's one that he hasn't put away yet - nearly used, still connected to an airbrush. derek takes a quick photo and sends it off, showing stiles just how pretty of a sky blue it is. ]
The lacrosse stick was actually supposed to be a baseball bat, but. The guy who made the charms hasn't had a lot of experience working with metal. It kind of warped. Tried to make the best of a bad situation, but. Pretty wild coincidence, right?
[ he turns around and takes a third photo. doscoe's tires are - familiar. they have to be. derek scoured through dealership after dealership to find a place that sold the same mags, the same covers, the same everything that roscoe had back home. the tires aren't a perfect match, but, they're close.
and then - another photo. black doors, freshly painted, connected to a frame of a car painted the same light blue as the open can on the workbench behind derek. a fifth photo - side-view mirrors, just the same as roscoe's. a sixth - steps, leading up to the driver's side door. a seventh: a numberplate, taken just low enough to show the car's got height. up from the ground, just like a jeep. ]
Anyway, wow. Gotta go. Just gonna hang up my phone and disappear for a while, leaving you alone with any unanswered questions you might have. Bye forever?
[ stiles is not jealous. stiles does not get jealous - except that's kind of a lie. he has no doubt that derek loves him, but he's not exactly thrilled listening to him talk so highly of someone else's looks. stiles sits up kind of sharply, and though the cat isn't afraid of stiles, she is kind of startled by the sudden motion. stiles swings his legs over the side of the couch, resting his elbows on his thighs, hunching over his lap with his phone in his hands.
so, this kinda sucks. like, in general, stiles is - fine, but he was mostly kidding about - super hot customer with coincidental interests. his competition, per se.
but then stiles keeps reading. his eyes narrow a little bit suspiciously at the edges over the mention of a baseball bat - his signature weapon, if he ever had one. also too coincidental. stiles glances up from his phone for a moment, looks at the cat like she's gonna have some answers for him, but she just keeps protecting derek's stupid shoe.
the pictures keep coming in, and as each one downloads and he opens them up, he maaaaybe starts to piece things together. very slowly, and almost kind of hesitantly, and it's stupid that for like, half a second, he wonders if the nogitsune is back and just - rolled up to derek's garage, and derek hasn't put two and two together. but that's stupid, and derek would have said something if there was a near-perfect copy of stiles bothering him at work.
stiles stands up impulsively, still staring down at his phone in his hands. it looks like... his jeep. the tires, the black doors, the blue paint, the mirrors, all of it familiar. the last photo comes through, suggesting the height of the vehicle between the frame and the ground.
stiles starts to text immediately, pacing now, though he doesn't know when he started. before he can get even a single message out, derek threatens to just - ghost him. stiles spams his phone, rapid fire. ]
Uh No? Absolutely not Derek Derek, what the hell I swear to god if you actually ghost me right now I'll Be Super mad about it Like so mad Dude ??????? Is that what I think it is Don't do this to me I'm fragile and easily excitable
[ stiles' texts come through faster than he's ever seen them come in - he gets alerts over alerts, tones that get cut out mid-play so a new one can override it - and derek's starting to panic, just a tiny, tiny bit, because maybe this was a bad idea. maybe he should have brought the jeep home rather than break all his plans down on a whim and end up here, sending fragmented photos to a panicked boy and his probably now disturbed cat, trying to tease and be coy and be cute.
but derek fights through the anxiety, because he thinks this is good, and he's just... genuinely excited to show stiles what he's done. only partially because he wants to put him in his place for saying you suck at lying - derek's been working on this baby since he started this fucking job, and stiles never had a clue. he's a fucking spymaster.
he calls stiles up on video, holding the frame up so he's on screen but the jeep isn't, and he starts talking the second stiles answers, cutting off any hellos by just - diving straight in. ]
So, okay - full disclosure? You don't have to keep her. You don't even have to take her. I don't want you to think that I'm just... trying to replace something you got from your mom. If you don't want her, that's totally okay - we have tons of cars here, I can get you something else.
[ ... but. derek takes his phone, holds it up over his head, and shows doscoe in her full glory. freshly painted, freshly polished. derek slowly starts to walk around her, giving stiles the tour. ]
But - yeah. I've been calling her Doscoe. Dos. Two. Roscoe. Thought it was kind of funny. Do you...
[ do you like her? derek swallows the question, asks something more neutral, trying to ease pressure on stiles if the answer is no. ]
[ stiles answers the video call almost immediately, mouth open to and ready to interrogate derek. he's - in the kitchen, walking through it, still pacing around the den. cat's still - fucking incubating derek's shoe or whatever, and derek leaves no room for stiles to talk.
he puts his thumbnail in his mouth, wedging it between his teeth as he wanders down the hallway toward derek's gym. he veers inside kind of mindlessly, following the perimeter of the room and weaving around equipment. derek talks, and stiles listens, and when derek shows him the jeep - not just parts of it, but the entire thing, near-perfect his jeep at home - he stops walking, somewhere in the hallway between derek's gym and their bedroom.
he stops chewing on his thumbnail, casually covers his mouth instead, fingers loose and lazily spread over his slightly parted lips.
holy shit. holy shit, that's. it's.
stiles laughs a little, and it sounds a bit higher-pitched than usual, but he's just - surprised. doscoe's clever. doscoe's a really, really good name, and she's beautiful, and it doesn't feel like derek's trying to replace his mother's old car. it just feels like derek... cares. it just feels like derek loves him, to go through all the trouble.
stiles turns slightly so he can lean his shoulders against the wall in the hallway, lowering his hand from his mouth a bit. ]
It's like. Derek, it's pretty much - exactly like— where did you even find it?
[ he remembers the cans of paint after a beat, the same shade of blue. derek works at a garage, fixing up and selling cars. stiles' eyebrows shoot up. ]
[ stiles is wearing his ring. of course he is - as far as derek can tell, he never takes it off. stiles claps his hand to his mouth, and he's wearing his ring, and derek's nerves just - go. nothing's really scary, when he remembers stiles has that ring. ]
Yeah.
[ yeah. he built her. derek nods, kind of sheepish, stopping dead in his tracks and leaning back against doscoe's rear tire. suddenly, he gets pale, and he rapidly shakes his head. ]
I mean - don't get the wrong idea. I didn't... slap her together with scrap metal and duct-tape, or anything. I just... found compatible parts from other cars and pieced her together. She's very Frankenstein's monster. Or, like - the Were-car from Futurama. She's as much of a mishmash of parts as she is a mishmash of references.
[ derek walks back around to the front of the jeep, still holding his phone pretty high above his head to show everything off. the more he does this, the prouder he feels. the more accomplished. he holds his phone up to the drivers window and shows stiles the interior - the same leather seats, the same fucking cupholders. it's...
it's honestly kind of amazing, the attention to detail that went into it. the accuracy. derek remembers so much about roscoe. he didn't have stiles to bounce ideas off of while he was making it, scott isn't here to field any questions he might have - it's amazingly accurate, and derek's been incredibly nervous he'd use the wrong shade of paint or make the interior a different color or something, but it's... good. it's good. he did a good job. ]
She should work. I've done some tests. Everything looks good.
[ oh, and - he unlocks the door, reaches in, and beeps the horn. beep beep. same fucking horn and everything. that one was pretty easy to pick out - you don't forget the sound of a fucking horn when it gets blasted in your ear after stumbling into a school parking lot because your psycho ex shot you in the arm with wolfsbane and you need help getting cured. ]
[ yeah, derek says, kinda like it's no big deal, and the air just rushes out of stiles' lungs, his face spilling into a wide grin. derek... built a car. derek built him a car - he's been building him a car, and stiles didn't have a clue, and he's just - so incredibly beyond touched.
and he's impressed, his eyes hyperfocused as derek takes a walk around the car. derek's cute when he's all shy and bashful, and stiles will definitely appreciate it after the fact, but he's just so deeply entranced by the amount of detail that he can't make himself pay attention to anything but the car until derek stops to lean against one of back tires.
derek's nervous all of the sudden. stiles can hear it, slightly, in the way he tries to defend and justify all the work he's done, and how he had to pull her together. stiles... loves him. that's not news, but stiles loves him, and he already loves this damn car. he nods as derek explains, slowly starting to pace around the den again to expel some of his excited energy. ]
I trust you.
[ he trusts that derek did well, doesn't have a sliver of doubt that it's not a beautiful, reliable vehicle. built by derek's own hands. jesus christ. derek should feel proud. stiles is proud of him, and as derek begins to circle the jeep again, stiles just finds himself more and more impressed and utterly awed by the attention to detail.
and he did it all without talking to stiles, literally the only other person currently in the city who's seen roscoe before? stiles breathes out, pushing one of his hands through his hair and holding the back of his head. he laughs, short and sweet. ]
Holy shit, babe. It's like you drove her right in from Beacon Hills.
[ it's not his mother's old car. stiles knows that, and he doesn't really want it to be, either. it's his jeep in every way that he loves her, but the sentiment here is different, and he's glad for that. he laughs again when derek beeps the horn, does a weird, kind of wobly 360 degree turn somewhere in the living room. ]
What? Are you kidding? Of course I want her, absolutely I want her.
jesus christ, stiles trusts him. that's not a secret, it's never been a secret, but derek spent so much time tying himself into knots over whether or not this would be an okay gift and stiles just - trusts him. derek did something good.
derek doesn't think this means half as much as the ring on his own finger - the physical, tangible connection to the very first time that stiles relied on him in this city - but he thinks it's close. he thinks it's good. derek's proud of himself. it's hard to say that out loud, and he's scared he would sound insincere and forced if he tried to admit it, but it's how he feels. he thinks that he did a really, really great job. for once in his life, he's just - confident, without any kind of naivety or ego.
he made the love of his life happy. really happy. that's a really, really good feeling.
the more he watches stiles smile, the lighter derek feels. he's floaty and excited and riddled with anticipation, and it doesn't take a lot of thought before he's slipping into the driver's seat and closing the door behind him, clipping his phone to the dashboard so he doesn't have to hang up while he drives. doesn't care if it's dangerous. just wants to get home to stiles. just wants to keep talking to him until he's there. ]
Okay. Uh.
[ he slips his keys into the ignition, laughing softly under his breath, just because he's nervous and filled with too much positive emotion for it to go anywhere else. he takes a breath, turns the keys, and the jeep hums to life. ]
There were a couple of other things I wanted to do. Just - extras? Add some more speakers, things like that. Get you some fuzzy dice to hang off the mirror, because I bet you're trashy enough to like those. But.
[ he looks to the phone, sees stiles on screen, and he's smiling again, soft and stupid. fuck, this was a really good idea. he's so fucking proud of himself. happy with himself. ]
Maybe - if you wanted to - we could work on that together? Give you something to do that isn't just sitting around making fun of the cat. And... I thought we could go on a date. Even if it's just - driving around. Iiiiif you wanted to.
[ stiles is the last person who should tell anyone what they should and shouldn't do while driving, the dozen-plus speeding tickets he was never written thanks to nepotism a testament to that. still, if he was maybe just a little less excited and enthused and pleasantly shocked, he might have scolded derek for even thinking about video chatting while driving. it's fine when he does stupid, careless stuff, but not when other's do it. the hypocrite.
as it stands, stiles is not less any of those things, so instead of chastising his boyfriend, he focuses on the interior of the car instead as derek settles in. he can only see a very isolated crop of the car, and he's already seen it all before on derek's walk-around tour, but he's just. eager.
derek looks really good sitting in it. granted, derek would look good sitting in a red metal wagon, but still. stiles hears the jingle of keys - his keys, with a personalized keychain and everything - followed by the gentle roar of the engine rumbling to life. stiles laughs again. he can't help it. derek built a working vehicle. a jeep, just like his prized car from back home, and it's beautiful in practically every way. kinda like derek, who is also beautiful in every way.
he takes no offense to the fuzzy dice comment, even though derek's wrong. stiles rolls his eyes, but there really isn't anything that could dampen his spirit right now. stiles sits down on the couch in the living room for maybe three seconds before he gets back up, full of too much energy and anticipation to even dream of being able to sit still right now. ]
Yeah, yes. Yes. I want to do that. Both of those things, all of it. Seriously, do you even have to ask? God.
[ stiles stoops to pet the cat as he passes her. she trills at him quietly, rolling and stretching out on her back, right over derek's shoe, which she seems to have adopted for the day. ]
No fuzzy dice, though. Hula lady on the dash, or nothing.
[ he's repeating stiles' god, just being mocking for the sake of mocking him. doscoe-whose-name-he's-still-willing-to-change purrs beneath him and derek gives her a grateful little pat on the dashboard, pulling out of the garage, the rough scratch of asphalt giving way to the crinkling crackle of gravel. derek's boss calls out to him as he goes - asks if he's still free to work tomorrow (he is), asks if he's finally taking that jeep back to his sub (he is), and tells him stiles is probably going to fucking love it - and then he's pulling out into the main street, slightly red. it's one thing, working on this in secret. it's another for stiles to know that he's been talking to people at work about how excited he is to do it. derek doesn't tend to talk, after all. this has just - been kind of a big deal, these past few weeks.
derek scratches at his beard and mumbles a quick sorry to stiles for the interruption, but other than that, he says very little until the embarrassment fades. stiles mentioned something about a hula lady that he honestly almost completely forgot about, and it's not until he's sitting at a red traffic light that he looks back at the video call and answers. ]
Deal. Serious about the date, though. I was going to suggest a drive-in, but.
[ he gestures with one hand, making cut off motions across his throat. he figures that the movies around here are just... porn. which, don't get him wrong - he'd totally spend an evening watching porn with stiles, he's not dissing that - but he wants to just have... a date. he wants to go somewhere nice and show him he loves him without the evening revolving around getting laid.
though he would of course be cool with getting laid. derek looks back at the phone when the car's waiting at a traffic light, impatiently bouncing his foot on the gas pedal. ]
Maybe something more private. Just you, me, and one of the women from Lilo and Stitch who danced with Lilo at her recital.
[ the anticipation and the excitement that thrums through stiles when derek starts to pull out of the garage is almost enough to send him outside to stand in the middle of the street to wait. instead, he listens to someone he can't see - and can only barely hear - talk to derek about the jeep. like he knows all about it, which isn't that surprising if he's been working on it at work for a while now. what is surprising is that they know it's for stiles, and that he's likely to be over the moon about it. derek could have told anyone that it was for - derek. but he didn't.
derek might be embarrassed, but stiles is - touched, honestly. he's very touched, and be bites at the inside corner of his bottom lip and ruffles the hair at the back of his head as he wanders the den and wonders how he can love one person so much. he dismisses the apology quietly, like it's ridiculous to apologize for making him happy, and then goes to find some shoes to put on.
a drive-in sounds like it would be kind of nice, if it were anywhere but here. it'd probably still be kinda nice, as long as derek was there, but he completely understands why derek might want to avoid it. part of the reason he likes the den so much is that it's easy to kind of shut out the rest of the city, the rest of the weird, twisted city they live in, and pretend, at least for a while, that they're getting a jump start on that life they've only recently been talking about living together, once duplicity is behind them.
stiles nods, dragging a pair of sneakers out and sitting on the corner of their bed. he should put his phone down so he can pull his shoes on faster, but he's kind of unwilling to stop looking at derek. instead, he pulls them on with one hand, the laces already done up because he's the kind of person who yanks his shoes off without undoing the laces. it's a little bit of a struggle, but he's managing. ]
Something private sounds - better. I'm—
[ he grimaces a little, only because he's fighting a little with getting his heel past the back of his shoe without it folding it and turning his sneaker into a slide. he tucks his tongue into the corner of his mouth, and he leans so he can press shoe to the floor and his foot into his shoe with his finger tucked into the back. eventually, he overcomes the struggle, and sits back up with a sigh.
it takes stiles a second or two to remember what he'd been about to say. he blinks, and he stands, and he looks kind of confused for a moment as he tries to put his train of thought back on track. ]
I'm... really excited. This is really cool, you're - really cool. More than cool.
[ he laughs a little at his own stupidity, and then leaves the bedroom, turning back down the hallway. ]
Can I meet you outside? I mean I'm going to do it anyway, I guess I'm just telling you.
[ stiles slides the front door open and then closed behind him, and he considers just - waiting at the top of the stairs for derek to come home, but that's not enough, so he all but races to the bottom. he's probably going to want to park the thing along the side of the den, maybe even around back, just for the sake of privacy and anonymity. ]
Doscoe's a good name. That's [ he laughs, ] that's such a good name. You absolute dork. Wow.
[ he's digging the compliments. he's thought this quite a bit this afternoon, but - derek really is proud of himself for this. every little laugh and confession of excitement and somewhat clumsy shoe-based stumble makes derek feel floaty and warm, and when stiles asks to meet him outside, it kinda makes him want to break the speed limit to get home faster. he genuinely, genuinely did something good here. it's so, so rare for him to feel this okay with a choice he's made. ]
Dude, it's not a big deal. You can just wait inside.
[ derek says this while laughing a little, smile stuck to his face like it won't come off. there's light in his eyes while he turns doscoe off towards the beach, and even though he doesn't speak much for the rest of the drive - the smile doesn't fade. he keeps prompting stiles to talk, asking him things in the silence (so where are you going to take her first? and are you gonna let the cat ride in her?), but it's just, you know - kinda selfish. he likes hearing stiles talk.
either way, it only takes twenty, maybe thirty minutes for him to start pulling up to the den, and his smile lasts him the whole way home. he's a bit sheepish when he tells stiles that he's getting close so he's going to hang up now, and... he lies, because he gets a bit nervous about hanging up, so he stays on the line and asks stiles to stay on the line, too. it's not until derek pulls doscoe into the driveway that he hangs up his phone, and even that's just because stiles is literally right in front of him when hed oes.
she pulls into a stop and derek's heart is beating pretty hard. he feels like he's outside his own body when he clicks open the door, tries to get out, forgets that he's wearing his seatbelt and immediately chokes himself a little. he coughs, unbuckles, and slips out, dropping onto the sandy asphalt and immediately feeling like he might be sick. derek takes doscoe's keys out and brings them over to stiles, nervously holding them out. ]
Hey.
[ for you, stiles. derek waits about half a second for stiles to hold out his hand, and if he's not fast enough for derek's liking, he'll grab him by the wrist and force the keys into his hand as fast as possible. there are some things about doscoe that kind of worry him - everything is uncannily similar to the original, but derek's still worried about the paint colour being off or the seats being upholstered with a different leather. it should be okay, but - now that he's back, so is his anxiety. ]
You can, uh. [ derek nods his head towards the jeep, putting his hands as deep into his pockets as they'll go. ] Look. If... you want.
[ his entire ass it's not a big deal. this is a huge deal, at least for stiles. as much as pretty much everyone minus his father doesn't think roscoe is a sight to behold, his mom's old car is one of his most prized possessions, if not the most prized possession. it's so important and precious to him that more often than not, he's unwilling to let anyone else try to fix her when she breaks down, patching her up with duct tape when he can't afford to replace her belts or buy new hoses for her.
he knows that car like the back of his hand - and from what stiles could tell from just a small walk-around tour over video chat, derek does too. and that's so important to stiles, that's such a big deal. there's no way he's not going to wait for him outside.
stiles chatters while he waits, lazily pacing a short length of the street and answering all of derek's questions. he has no idea where he'll take doscoe first - somewhere with derek, probably. he's unsure about letting the cat in the car, wary about her claws and the leather, but then again, roscoe's transported plenty of werewolves back home, and she's still okay, so maybe doscoe would be fine.
every other minute or so, stiles glances past his phone toward the end of the street, anxious to see those round headlights and that slotted grill and the baby blue hood, the black doors. he rambles about how if he knew derek knew this much about cars back home, he would have trusted roscoe in his care, let him help fix her up in ways he's reluctant to let anybody else.
his excitement is palpable when derek says he'll be home soon. stiles pumps his fist and bends his knees and does this stupid little 360 degree spin, shoes scraping quietly against the asphalt. he seems mildly reluctant to hang up when derek says he needs to hang up, feels relieved when he changes his mind.
stiles sees doscoe rolling up the street well before derek eases her into the driveway, and by then, he's having a hard time paying attention to his phone. he goes kind of quiet, actually. he's speechless, and his chest hurts as derek puts her in park, but it's a good hurt, it's the best kind of hurt. it's been over half a year since stiles has seen his old car, and he knows this isn't her, but she's close. she's so goddamn close that if derek hadn't said he'd built doscoe himself, stiles might have believed he was staring at his mom's old jeep.
he hears the quiet beep of the call ending and only vaguely thinks to put his phone away. stiles slides it into his pocket and immediately starts approaching the jeep as derek starts to climb out of it. he stops a little short, and that's when he starts to smile, big and sun-bright. derek says hey, and stiles says- ]
Holy - god. Oh my god.
[ -and he tears his eyes away from doscoe to look at derek, letting him press the keys into his hand, which he closes his fingers around tightly. stiles stares at derek for a few very long seconds after he's told to go take a look. he just wants to kiss him. he smiles at him instead, soft and fond and faintly overwhelmed, and then he finally steps away from him after touching his fingers to derek's side.
he's hit with a surge of excited energy as he starts to look doscoe over, moving from one part of her to the next like a vibrating chihuahua. he runs his fingers over a fender, wiggles the driver's side-view mirror, runs his hand along the top edge of the window where it meets the roof, black like the door. stiles touches both tail lights as he circles around the back, stops to squat by the back tire, touches the hubcap, jumps back up to keep moving. when he gets to the front of the jeep, he curls his fingers in the front grill, flicks at one of the hood latches. stiles does all of this while talking to himself excitedly under his breath, about how all of it is practically the same, just like roscoe.
turning around, stiles moves around the side of the car again while looking at derek, unable to put into words how pleased he is so far, how proud he is of derek for - getting something so important him right, for even doing any of this in the first place. he grins at him as he pulls open the driver side door and climbs in, sliding into the seat and stretching his legs out toward the pedals. he's still got the keys hanging from his fingers when he puts both hands on the steering wheel, and for a moment, he kind of loses himself. stiles lets his hands trace the wheel, touches the hub at the center. he runs his fingertips along the dash, tilts his head back to look up at the exposed metal interior of the roof, reaches up to touch that too like it's the fucking - creation of adam, on the ceiling of the sistine chapel. he twists around in his seat to look in the back, which is exactly as it should be too.
when stiles turns back around, he has to wipe his hands over his thighs. he wets his lips, and he pushes the keys into the ignition, and he turns it over - and she roars to life, just like she did in the garage when derek started her up. stiles just starts laughing - bold and bright and uncontrollable. he drums his hands on the steering wheel, grabs hold of it at ten and two, rocks himself back and forth a couple times in his excitement. he stares at derek through the windshield, stood in front of the home they share together, and he sighs. he doesn't care that derek probably can't hear him, doesn't care if he can. ]
God, I love you. You did this. Dude, you did this! ... For me. [ he slides his hands down the outer curves of the steering wheel, guides them back up, continues to stare at derek. ] I wanna blow you so bad.
[ stiles cuts the engine, keys jingling quietly in his hand as he opens the door and climbs out, pushing the door closed behind him. stiles puts his keys in his pocket and stands there by the side of the jeep for a moment, and then he strides forward - right up to derek, where he grabs the front of his shirt with both hands and pulls him forward. when he kisses him, it's almost chaste. light but lingering, and when stiles pulls away, he's still got his eyes closed. he wet his bottom lip. ]
this feels like he's introducing his date to his parents. once derek has slipped out of doscoe and given the proverbial reigns over to stiles, he feels like every scrutinizing look and every careful glance, every little drop of attention stiles pays to all the details, are actually all directed at him. stiles is judging derek based off of his choices, who he's with. determining if doscoe is good enough, and - therefore - if derek himself is.
derek's stomach is in knots, waiting on pins and needles for stiles' approval. derek's never really going to have that experience - introducing someone important to his mom and dad. he never got that far with paige, but he imagines this is what it would have been like.
derek stands patiently in front of the jeep, trying not to lose his fucking shit too much whenever he spies a spot of dirt on one of her tires that she picked up on the way home. his hands are in fists and hanging at his sides, turned inward so his thumbs are pressed against his body, and he's trying to stand as neutral as he can while stiles touches, examines, explores. stiles is obviously thrilled, but he's also very quiet, and his parents were both like that, too. openly friendly to hide any hostility. he can't trust that fucking chihuahua energy as far as he can throw it.
the parent thing is a pretty decent analogy up until stiles offers to blow him.
derek, uh. derek laughs, more out of anxiety than relief, but his fists uncurl at his sides and slip easily into his pockets nevertheless. he stares at his feet, toeing a spiral in the dirt, looking up again just in time to see stiles slip from out of the driver's seat. there's this second of charged, electric energy, where they both just - look at each other, the air silent once the engine's been cut and the smell of the salt air from the beach filling his lungs, but it doesn't last long. stiles steps forward, walks straight up to him, and -
the kiss is a surprise. it really shouldn't be a surprise, because obviously stiles was going to kiss him, derek's an idiot for not seeing it coming - but it's a good surprise, obviously, not a bad one. derek chuckles a little against stiles' lips and feels waves of relief crashing through him, and he tilts forward on his toes when stiles brings them closer together. he keeps his hands in his pockets and just kinda sways, and when the kiss breaks, derek still has his eyes closed like he's waiting for more. it doesn't come, but. there'll be time.
derek leans back on his heels, looking over stiles' shoulder towards the car. yeah. he thinks he did a good job. ]
It's okay. I mean, I didn't build you a car just so you could blow me, but. Good reaction.
[ he's sheepish, bringing his hand up to scratch at the bridge of his nose. it's suddenly-- very difficult to look at stiles without going red, and derek has an image to upkeep, so he focuses on the jeep. there are a dozen questions he wants to ask - if the paint color is okay, if the seats are comfortable, if there's anything about her that's irreparably different to her mother - but he doesn't let himself spiral. he's been getting better at not spiralling, since stiles became his anchor.
he reaches his hand out, tugging at stiles' sleeve, still not looking at him. he's just really fascinated by that jeep, apparently. the jeep he's been staring at for the past few weeks, day in and day out, wearing his hands to the bone. stiles called him a bad liar, earlier in this conversation. shows what the fuck he knows. ]
I'm serious about that date.
[ it's the third time he's brought up the date - the second time he's used that exact wording - but he's genuinely very excited about the idea of it. sitting in the passenger seat, driving out under the stars. being alone in the warmth with the man he loves. he's hinting to stiles that he'll go with him somewhere tonight, if he's willing. ]
[ it's not that stiles may have forgotten, for a moment, that derek is a werewolf with enhanced hearing, but - he may have forgotten for a moment that derek is a werewolf with enhanced hearing. except that's not really true, because that's a very hard thing to forget about your boyfriend - most of his friends in general, actually -, but he had kind of been banking on his affectionate, appreciative rambling being drowned out by the sound of the jeep's engine and the barrier of glass between them.
but of course derek would hear the blowjob comment. of course he would bring it up to make sure stiles knows he heard. stiles isn't ashamed though, but he does turn a little bit pink and he does press his lips together and kind of push his fists into derek's chest where they're still closed around handfuls of his shirt. stiles opens his eyes, unfurling his hands and letting his palms drift down derek's front for a moment before pulling them away.
claudia would have liked derek. stiles stands there and just looks at him quietly, even though derek seems preoccupied with the jeep, and he thinks about how his late mother would have loved him, this man who is always there to protect her son. this man who pays attention to him and listens and does his best to make sure he's happy. claudia would have laughed delightedly about doscoe. stiles misses his mom a lot - that's something that never really changes, no matter how long it's been - and he's missed roscoe more than he's ever really admitted, because it seems kind of lame to miss a car, but the sentiment is what's important to him, the memories. her final gift to him.
doscoe isn't roscoe - no car would ever be able to take her place - but she's pretty fucking close. she's a reminder of the people he loves, and who love him in return.
derek tugs at his sleeve. stiles blinks once, twice, like he's coming back from somewhere far away. derek reminds him of that date he wants to go on, the one they still need to hash out the details for, and stiles sighs quietly. happily. he smiles, and he steps and turns so he's standing next to derek instead of in front of him, draping his arm over the back of his neck and reaching across in front of him to hold onto his own wrist. he leans into derek slightly, looking at the beautiful piece of craftsmanship in their driveway. ]
Yeah. Me too.
[ breathing out through his nose, stiles chews at the inside of his cheek, his mouth twisting thoughtfully as he contemplates possible date ideas. he wonders, briefly, what it would take to set up a private drive-in of their own, maybe somewhere out back, or in the woods. set up a sheet as a screen, make some popcorn in the den to bring out with them. he'd have to look into finding a cheap projector somewhere that's compatible with his laptop, but that seems like it could take some time.
and stiles is impatient.
he turns his head to look at derek's profile, wetting his lips. ]
What are— do you have any plans? Tonight? We could, um. We could drive her around for a little bit, maybe pick up some take-out. D'you think she'd get stuck in the sand on the beach?
[ that's a dumb question, because he drove roscoe across what was practically a desert to go and rescue derek once, and aside from breaking down for reasons unrelated to sand and desert, she did pretty well. stiles asks anyway. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I like it when you fuck me. You're good at it.
Total studmuffin. Just like the shirt says.
[ derek gets off of doscoe and runs his hand over her driver's side handle. he could just... take her home now. there's nothing stopping him, really. she's all full up, she's ready to roll out. he'll have to take her back in, eventually, just to add the finishing touches, but - he could do it. there's no reason why he couldn't do it.
he's even got her keys all prettied up; there's a little lacrosse stick charm on the keyring, right next to a little sheriff's badge. derek opens the driver's side door and slips inside, shutting it behind him and settling against the seats. he breathes in, then out. he focuses on his phone. ]
Actually - hey.
I know this is kind of an insane question, but would you be open to having more than one pet?
Eventually. Not now. I just mean, like. In the future. One day. Hypothetically.
I know cats aren't pack animals. I obviously know that cats aren't pack animals.
But.
She should have a pack. I mean - other than you.
no subject
Don't try to sweet talk me.
That's not how this is supposed to go.
[ but honestly, tell him more about how much you like it when he fucks you, he's into it.
stiles twists on the couch, rolls over onto his stomach, curling one arm under his cheek and reaching his other one out a little so he can snap another picture of their cat. she's still stretched out, mostly, but she'd dragged one of derek's shoes a little closer, rubbing her stupid face against the heel.
stiles sends the photo before addressing the rest of the text, his interest piqued. ]
Would you be open to having more than one pet?
You seem kinda stressed about this one as it is.
[ like, all the time. ]
I wouldn't be opposed to getting her a friend.
Were you thinking another cat, or
Something else?
Also, you're not slick. You're her pack too.
She's gonna have to accept it eventually.
no subject
I was going to go pretty deep into it. Call you sexy, talk about how badly I want you. Send you a photo of my ass, or something.
Not happening now.
You're letting her get her ugly little goblin face all over my shoe. She's going to get fish crumbs and fur-vomit everywhere. Or she'll eat it.
I'm going to eat her, if she does. Bones and all.
Anyway.
[ ... anyway. ]
I'm not stressed. About her.
I mean.
Not exactly? It's complicated. I'm just...
I'm stressed about aspects of her.
And I'm not her pack.
no subject
Also
Hey
Do you think maybe she's not interested in being your best friend
Because you call her things like "ugly little goblin"?
I'm just saying.
Anyway, she's fine. I'm watching her.
[ he's not, he's texting. ]
What aspects of her stress you out?
Don't say the cat aspect
And I've got literally nothing to do all day, buddy
I'll lay here and argue that you're her pack until the sun goes down.
Try me.
no subject
That's not an insult. It's just a fact. I'm literally just stating a fact.
There's nothing morally reprehensible about being brutally honest to someone's face. More people should talk to their cats like I talk to mine.
Yours. Ours. Whateer.
[ derek knows stiles isn't watching her, but. it's fine. ]
Nothing. I lied. She doesn't stress me out at all.
Or. I don't know.
It's just the same old shit. You know?
I kind of love her. A lot. Which is disgusting. Pirate kings would make their crew walk the plank for less.
And - I don't know if you've noticed, but -
Since we started giving her her food together, she's been getting. Better? Around me. Which.
Is nice.
[ there is literally no way that stiles hasn't noticed, if only because derek keeps shooting him these panicked and vaguely excited looks every time the cat walks past him without freaking out or freezing, but. for his dignity's sake, derek will pretend he hasn't been that obvious about it. ]
But.
She'll never like me as much as she likes you. Which is okay. Everyone has a favorite.
I like you more than I like her. So. It's not like I can even blame her? But.
I want. Her.
To love me.
More.
[ don't talk shit. or laugh. he's beaten people up for less. ]
no subject
she's moved on from rubbing her face all over it, and instead has decided to lay over the front half, like she's protecting it from something or keeping it warm. stiles takes another picture, but doesn't send it. he swipes back over to his messages, reads, flips back over onto his back.
he's... charmed. ]
I've noticed. I pay attention.
It's slow going, but she's definitely doing a lot better.
And you thought she'd never like you at all
I mean to be honest I have been telling her how great I think you are when you're not home
So
I'll take some credit for her progress
[ kidding. stiles randomly decides to send the last photo of her he just took. ]
Obviously it's just going to take some time.
Also you might be down a shoe
I don't know what the hell she's doing
no subject
derek is charmed, too. stiles is patient with him through all of these weird, awkward little tantrums about their cat. he's always putting up with derek's heightened tension and his displays of stupidly rigid behaviour around her. always being supportive, when he tells him that he loves her, or worries that she'll always be afraid of him. stiles loves him. the cat's starting to love him, slowly but surely.
he feels like he's got a family again. ]
She can have the shoe. I don't mind.
[ and then -
and then - he sends stiles a photo. it's not much. certainly not an ass pic. he's inside the jeep, holding up stiles' keys in front of him, silver and pretty in the light. he snaps a photo of his hand so the keychain's charms are both visible, the little lacrosse stick, the little sheriff's badge. derek sends it off without saying what it is, without giving context - it's just derek's hand, the inside view of a windshield and a view of the open garage door leading out into the Up. ]
no subject
[ and he actually does, lolling his head to the side so he can look at her. she flicks her tail a little, eyes closed like she's content. your dad says you can have his shoe, you little weirdo, he says, like she understands english.
stiles looks back at his phone, thumbs poised to tap out another text when a photo comes through. he taps it with his thumb, then touches both thumbs to the screen and drags them outward, zooming in a little.
his brows furrow. he's not entirely sure what he's looking at. well, no, he can obviously tell that it's derek's hand, holding a set of keys, and that he's sitting in a car at the garage. stiles moves the photo around a little, wondering if there's something he's supposed to be looking for, or if derek's just - allowing him to see a little bit of his day. he drags the keys back into center frame, absently drawing both of his legs up a little so his knees are bent and his feet are pressed flat against the count cushions, and he focuses on the little charms.
a lacrosse stick and - a badge. a sheriff badge, which is... oddly specific. and relevant to stiles. the two things together are relevant to stiles, but stiles is... having a hard time putting two and two together. mostly because he'd never expect derek to bring home a fucking car for him.
maybe a car for himself, though. maybe the charms are just coincidence, and derek is just showing him because of the coincidence. hmm. ]
Man
What are the odds that one of your customers is also into lacrosse and has some kinda connection to the police department
Am I going to have to defend my place as your boyfriend
Are they super hot
Cause I'm actually like, really comfortable right now
I'll get up if I have to, but
no subject
derek gets out of the jeep. ]
Don't take this the wrong way, but.
The guy who owns this car might honestly be the hottest person I've ever seen.
Nobody holds a candle to him. Present company included.
[ stiles, of course, is the owner - derek's just the present company in charge of driving it back to the den. he closes doscoe's door behind him and walks over the concrete of the garage, taking steps towards open cans of paint. there's one that he hasn't put away yet - nearly used, still connected to an airbrush. derek takes a quick photo and sends it off, showing stiles just how pretty of a sky blue it is. ]
The lacrosse stick was actually supposed to be a baseball bat, but.
The guy who made the charms hasn't had a lot of experience working with metal. It kind of warped.
Tried to make the best of a bad situation, but.
Pretty wild coincidence, right?
[ he turns around and takes a third photo. doscoe's tires are - familiar. they have to be. derek scoured through dealership after dealership to find a place that sold the same mags, the same covers, the same everything that roscoe had back home. the tires aren't a perfect match, but, they're close.
and then - another photo. black doors, freshly painted, connected to a frame of a car painted the same light blue as the open can on the workbench behind derek. a fifth photo - side-view mirrors, just the same as roscoe's. a sixth - steps, leading up to the driver's side door. a seventh: a numberplate, taken just low enough to show the car's got height. up from the ground, just like a jeep. ]
Anyway, wow. Gotta go. Just gonna hang up my phone and disappear for a while, leaving you alone with any unanswered questions you might have.
Bye forever?
no subject
so, this kinda sucks. like, in general, stiles is - fine, but he was mostly kidding about - super hot customer with coincidental interests. his competition, per se.
but then stiles keeps reading. his eyes narrow a little bit suspiciously at the edges over the mention of a baseball bat - his signature weapon, if he ever had one. also too coincidental. stiles glances up from his phone for a moment, looks at the cat like she's gonna have some answers for him, but she just keeps protecting derek's stupid shoe.
the pictures keep coming in, and as each one downloads and he opens them up, he maaaaybe starts to piece things together. very slowly, and almost kind of hesitantly, and it's stupid that for like, half a second, he wonders if the nogitsune is back and just - rolled up to derek's garage, and derek hasn't put two and two together. but that's stupid, and derek would have said something if there was a near-perfect copy of stiles bothering him at work.
stiles stands up impulsively, still staring down at his phone in his hands. it looks like... his jeep. the tires, the black doors, the blue paint, the mirrors, all of it familiar. the last photo comes through, suggesting the height of the vehicle between the frame and the ground.
stiles starts to text immediately, pacing now, though he doesn't know when he started. before he can get even a single message out, derek threatens to just - ghost him. stiles spams his phone, rapid fire. ]
Uh
No?
Absolutely not
Derek
Derek, what the hell
I swear to god if you actually ghost me right now I'll
Be
Super mad about it
Like so mad
Dude
???????
Is that what I think it is
Don't do this to me
I'm fragile and easily excitable
no subject
[ stiles' texts come through faster than he's ever seen them come in - he gets alerts over alerts, tones that get cut out mid-play so a new one can override it - and derek's starting to panic, just a tiny, tiny bit, because maybe this was a bad idea. maybe he should have brought the jeep home rather than break all his plans down on a whim and end up here, sending fragmented photos to a panicked boy and his probably now disturbed cat, trying to tease and be coy and be cute.
but derek fights through the anxiety, because he thinks this is good, and he's just... genuinely excited to show stiles what he's done. only partially because he wants to put him in his place for saying you suck at lying - derek's been working on this baby since he started this fucking job, and stiles never had a clue. he's a fucking spymaster.
he calls stiles up on video, holding the frame up so he's on screen but the jeep isn't, and he starts talking the second stiles answers, cutting off any hellos by just - diving straight in. ]
So, okay - full disclosure? You don't have to keep her. You don't even have to take her. I don't want you to think that I'm just... trying to replace something you got from your mom. If you don't want her, that's totally okay - we have tons of cars here, I can get you something else.
[ ... but. derek takes his phone, holds it up over his head, and shows doscoe in her full glory. freshly painted, freshly polished. derek slowly starts to walk around her, giving stiles the tour. ]
But - yeah. I've been calling her Doscoe. Dos. Two. Roscoe. Thought it was kind of funny. Do you...
[ do you like her? derek swallows the question, asks something more neutral, trying to ease pressure on stiles if the answer is no. ]
I mean - thoughts?
no subject
he puts his thumbnail in his mouth, wedging it between his teeth as he wanders down the hallway toward derek's gym. he veers inside kind of mindlessly, following the perimeter of the room and weaving around equipment. derek talks, and stiles listens, and when derek shows him the jeep - not just parts of it, but the entire thing, near-perfect his jeep at home - he stops walking, somewhere in the hallway between derek's gym and their bedroom.
he stops chewing on his thumbnail, casually covers his mouth instead, fingers loose and lazily spread over his slightly parted lips.
holy shit. holy shit, that's. it's.
stiles laughs a little, and it sounds a bit higher-pitched than usual, but he's just - surprised. doscoe's clever. doscoe's a really, really good name, and she's beautiful, and it doesn't feel like derek's trying to replace his mother's old car. it just feels like derek... cares. it just feels like derek loves him, to go through all the trouble.
stiles turns slightly so he can lean his shoulders against the wall in the hallway, lowering his hand from his mouth a bit. ]
It's like. Derek, it's pretty much - exactly like— where did you even find it?
[ he remembers the cans of paint after a beat, the same shade of blue. derek works at a garage, fixing up and selling cars. stiles' eyebrows shoot up. ]
Hold on, wait. ... Did you - build that?
no subject
Yeah.
[ yeah. he built her. derek nods, kind of sheepish, stopping dead in his tracks and leaning back against doscoe's rear tire. suddenly, he gets pale, and he rapidly shakes his head. ]
I mean - don't get the wrong idea. I didn't... slap her together with scrap metal and duct-tape, or anything. I just... found compatible parts from other cars and pieced her together. She's very Frankenstein's monster. Or, like - the Were-car from Futurama. She's as much of a mishmash of parts as she is a mishmash of references.
[ derek walks back around to the front of the jeep, still holding his phone pretty high above his head to show everything off. the more he does this, the prouder he feels. the more accomplished. he holds his phone up to the drivers window and shows stiles the interior - the same leather seats, the same fucking cupholders. it's...
it's honestly kind of amazing, the attention to detail that went into it. the accuracy. derek remembers so much about roscoe. he didn't have stiles to bounce ideas off of while he was making it, scott isn't here to field any questions he might have - it's amazingly accurate, and derek's been incredibly nervous he'd use the wrong shade of paint or make the interior a different color or something, but it's... good. it's good. he did a good job. ]
She should work. I've done some tests. Everything looks good.
[ oh, and - he unlocks the door, reaches in, and beeps the horn. beep beep. same fucking horn and everything. that one was pretty easy to pick out - you don't forget the sound of a fucking horn when it gets blasted in your ear after stumbling into a school parking lot because your psycho ex shot you in the arm with wolfsbane and you need help getting cured. ]
And, uh. Yeah. She's yours, if you want her.
no subject
and he's impressed, his eyes hyperfocused as derek takes a walk around the car. derek's cute when he's all shy and bashful, and stiles will definitely appreciate it after the fact, but he's just so deeply entranced by the amount of detail that he can't make himself pay attention to anything but the car until derek stops to lean against one of back tires.
derek's nervous all of the sudden. stiles can hear it, slightly, in the way he tries to defend and justify all the work he's done, and how he had to pull her together. stiles... loves him. that's not news, but stiles loves him, and he already loves this damn car. he nods as derek explains, slowly starting to pace around the den again to expel some of his excited energy. ]
I trust you.
[ he trusts that derek did well, doesn't have a sliver of doubt that it's not a beautiful, reliable vehicle. built by derek's own hands. jesus christ. derek should feel proud. stiles is proud of him, and as derek begins to circle the jeep again, stiles just finds himself more and more impressed and utterly awed by the attention to detail.
and he did it all without talking to stiles, literally the only other person currently in the city who's seen roscoe before? stiles breathes out, pushing one of his hands through his hair and holding the back of his head. he laughs, short and sweet. ]
Holy shit, babe. It's like you drove her right in from Beacon Hills.
[ it's not his mother's old car. stiles knows that, and he doesn't really want it to be, either. it's his jeep in every way that he loves her, but the sentiment here is different, and he's glad for that. he laughs again when derek beeps the horn, does a weird, kind of wobly 360 degree turn somewhere in the living room. ]
What? Are you kidding? Of course I want her, absolutely I want her.
no subject
jesus christ, stiles trusts him. that's not a secret, it's never been a secret, but derek spent so much time tying himself into knots over whether or not this would be an okay gift and stiles just - trusts him. derek did something good.
derek doesn't think this means half as much as the ring on his own finger - the physical, tangible connection to the very first time that stiles relied on him in this city - but he thinks it's close. he thinks it's good. derek's proud of himself. it's hard to say that out loud, and he's scared he would sound insincere and forced if he tried to admit it, but it's how he feels. he thinks that he did a really, really great job. for once in his life, he's just - confident, without any kind of naivety or ego.
he made the love of his life happy. really happy. that's a really, really good feeling.
the more he watches stiles smile, the lighter derek feels. he's floaty and excited and riddled with anticipation, and it doesn't take a lot of thought before he's slipping into the driver's seat and closing the door behind him, clipping his phone to the dashboard so he doesn't have to hang up while he drives. doesn't care if it's dangerous. just wants to get home to stiles. just wants to keep talking to him until he's there. ]
Okay. Uh.
[ he slips his keys into the ignition, laughing softly under his breath, just because he's nervous and filled with too much positive emotion for it to go anywhere else. he takes a breath, turns the keys, and the jeep hums to life. ]
There were a couple of other things I wanted to do. Just - extras? Add some more speakers, things like that. Get you some fuzzy dice to hang off the mirror, because I bet you're trashy enough to like those. But.
[ he looks to the phone, sees stiles on screen, and he's smiling again, soft and stupid. fuck, this was a really good idea. he's so fucking proud of himself. happy with himself. ]
Maybe - if you wanted to - we could work on that together? Give you something to do that isn't just sitting around making fun of the cat. And... I thought we could go on a date. Even if it's just - driving around. Iiiiif you wanted to.
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as it stands, stiles is not less any of those things, so instead of chastising his boyfriend, he focuses on the interior of the car instead as derek settles in. he can only see a very isolated crop of the car, and he's already seen it all before on derek's walk-around tour, but he's just. eager.
derek looks really good sitting in it. granted, derek would look good sitting in a red metal wagon, but still. stiles hears the jingle of keys - his keys, with a personalized keychain and everything - followed by the gentle roar of the engine rumbling to life. stiles laughs again. he can't help it. derek built a working vehicle. a jeep, just like his prized car from back home, and it's beautiful in practically every way. kinda like derek, who is also beautiful in every way.
he takes no offense to the fuzzy dice comment, even though derek's wrong. stiles rolls his eyes, but there really isn't anything that could dampen his spirit right now. stiles sits down on the couch in the living room for maybe three seconds before he gets back up, full of too much energy and anticipation to even dream of being able to sit still right now. ]
Yeah, yes. Yes. I want to do that. Both of those things, all of it. Seriously, do you even have to ask? God.
[ stiles stoops to pet the cat as he passes her. she trills at him quietly, rolling and stretching out on her back, right over derek's shoe, which she seems to have adopted for the day. ]
No fuzzy dice, though. Hula lady on the dash, or nothing.
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[ he's repeating stiles' god, just being mocking for the sake of mocking him. doscoe-whose-name-he's-still-willing-to-change purrs beneath him and derek gives her a grateful little pat on the dashboard, pulling out of the garage, the rough scratch of asphalt giving way to the crinkling crackle of gravel. derek's boss calls out to him as he goes - asks if he's still free to work tomorrow (he is), asks if he's finally taking that jeep back to his sub (he is), and tells him stiles is probably going to fucking love it - and then he's pulling out into the main street, slightly red. it's one thing, working on this in secret. it's another for stiles to know that he's been talking to people at work about how excited he is to do it. derek doesn't tend to talk, after all. this has just - been kind of a big deal, these past few weeks.
derek scratches at his beard and mumbles a quick sorry to stiles for the interruption, but other than that, he says very little until the embarrassment fades. stiles mentioned something about a hula lady that he honestly almost completely forgot about, and it's not until he's sitting at a red traffic light that he looks back at the video call and answers. ]
Deal. Serious about the date, though. I was going to suggest a drive-in, but.
[ he gestures with one hand, making cut off motions across his throat. he figures that the movies around here are just... porn. which, don't get him wrong - he'd totally spend an evening watching porn with stiles, he's not dissing that - but he wants to just have... a date. he wants to go somewhere nice and show him he loves him without the evening revolving around getting laid.
though he would of course be cool with getting laid. derek looks back at the phone when the car's waiting at a traffic light, impatiently bouncing his foot on the gas pedal. ]
Maybe something more private. Just you, me, and one of the women from Lilo and Stitch who danced with Lilo at her recital.
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derek might be embarrassed, but stiles is - touched, honestly. he's very touched, and be bites at the inside corner of his bottom lip and ruffles the hair at the back of his head as he wanders the den and wonders how he can love one person so much. he dismisses the apology quietly, like it's ridiculous to apologize for making him happy, and then goes to find some shoes to put on.
a drive-in sounds like it would be kind of nice, if it were anywhere but here. it'd probably still be kinda nice, as long as derek was there, but he completely understands why derek might want to avoid it. part of the reason he likes the den so much is that it's easy to kind of shut out the rest of the city, the rest of the weird, twisted city they live in, and pretend, at least for a while, that they're getting a jump start on that life they've only recently been talking about living together, once duplicity is behind them.
stiles nods, dragging a pair of sneakers out and sitting on the corner of their bed. he should put his phone down so he can pull his shoes on faster, but he's kind of unwilling to stop looking at derek. instead, he pulls them on with one hand, the laces already done up because he's the kind of person who yanks his shoes off without undoing the laces. it's a little bit of a struggle, but he's managing. ]
Something private sounds - better. I'm—
[ he grimaces a little, only because he's fighting a little with getting his heel past the back of his shoe without it folding it and turning his sneaker into a slide. he tucks his tongue into the corner of his mouth, and he leans so he can press shoe to the floor and his foot into his shoe with his finger tucked into the back. eventually, he overcomes the struggle, and sits back up with a sigh.
it takes stiles a second or two to remember what he'd been about to say. he blinks, and he stands, and he looks kind of confused for a moment as he tries to put his train of thought back on track. ]
I'm... really excited. This is really cool, you're - really cool. More than cool.
[ he laughs a little at his own stupidity, and then leaves the bedroom, turning back down the hallway. ]
Can I meet you outside? I mean I'm going to do it anyway, I guess I'm just telling you.
[ stiles slides the front door open and then closed behind him, and he considers just - waiting at the top of the stairs for derek to come home, but that's not enough, so he all but races to the bottom. he's probably going to want to park the thing along the side of the den, maybe even around back, just for the sake of privacy and anonymity. ]
Doscoe's a good name. That's [ he laughs, ] that's such a good name. You absolute dork. Wow.
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Dude, it's not a big deal. You can just wait inside.
[ derek says this while laughing a little, smile stuck to his face like it won't come off. there's light in his eyes while he turns doscoe off towards the beach, and even though he doesn't speak much for the rest of the drive - the smile doesn't fade. he keeps prompting stiles to talk, asking him things in the silence (so where are you going to take her first? and are you gonna let the cat ride in her?), but it's just, you know - kinda selfish. he likes hearing stiles talk.
either way, it only takes twenty, maybe thirty minutes for him to start pulling up to the den, and his smile lasts him the whole way home. he's a bit sheepish when he tells stiles that he's getting close so he's going to hang up now, and... he lies, because he gets a bit nervous about hanging up, so he stays on the line and asks stiles to stay on the line, too. it's not until derek pulls doscoe into the driveway that he hangs up his phone, and even that's just because stiles is literally right in front of him when hed oes.
she pulls into a stop and derek's heart is beating pretty hard. he feels like he's outside his own body when he clicks open the door, tries to get out, forgets that he's wearing his seatbelt and immediately chokes himself a little. he coughs, unbuckles, and slips out, dropping onto the sandy asphalt and immediately feeling like he might be sick. derek takes doscoe's keys out and brings them over to stiles, nervously holding them out. ]
Hey.
[ for you, stiles. derek waits about half a second for stiles to hold out his hand, and if he's not fast enough for derek's liking, he'll grab him by the wrist and force the keys into his hand as fast as possible. there are some things about doscoe that kind of worry him - everything is uncannily similar to the original, but derek's still worried about the paint colour being off or the seats being upholstered with a different leather. it should be okay, but - now that he's back, so is his anxiety. ]
You can, uh. [ derek nods his head towards the jeep, putting his hands as deep into his pockets as they'll go. ] Look. If... you want.
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he knows that car like the back of his hand - and from what stiles could tell from just a small walk-around tour over video chat, derek does too. and that's so important to stiles, that's such a big deal. there's no way he's not going to wait for him outside.
stiles chatters while he waits, lazily pacing a short length of the street and answering all of derek's questions. he has no idea where he'll take doscoe first - somewhere with derek, probably. he's unsure about letting the cat in the car, wary about her claws and the leather, but then again, roscoe's transported plenty of werewolves back home, and she's still okay, so maybe doscoe would be fine.
every other minute or so, stiles glances past his phone toward the end of the street, anxious to see those round headlights and that slotted grill and the baby blue hood, the black doors. he rambles about how if he knew derek knew this much about cars back home, he would have trusted roscoe in his care, let him help fix her up in ways he's reluctant to let anybody else.
his excitement is palpable when derek says he'll be home soon. stiles pumps his fist and bends his knees and does this stupid little 360 degree spin, shoes scraping quietly against the asphalt. he seems mildly reluctant to hang up when derek says he needs to hang up, feels relieved when he changes his mind.
stiles sees doscoe rolling up the street well before derek eases her into the driveway, and by then, he's having a hard time paying attention to his phone. he goes kind of quiet, actually. he's speechless, and his chest hurts as derek puts her in park, but it's a good hurt, it's the best kind of hurt. it's been over half a year since stiles has seen his old car, and he knows this isn't her, but she's close. she's so goddamn close that if derek hadn't said he'd built doscoe himself, stiles might have believed he was staring at his mom's old jeep.
he hears the quiet beep of the call ending and only vaguely thinks to put his phone away. stiles slides it into his pocket and immediately starts approaching the jeep as derek starts to climb out of it. he stops a little short, and that's when he starts to smile, big and sun-bright. derek says hey, and stiles says- ]
Holy - god. Oh my god.
[ -and he tears his eyes away from doscoe to look at derek, letting him press the keys into his hand, which he closes his fingers around tightly. stiles stares at derek for a few very long seconds after he's told to go take a look. he just wants to kiss him. he smiles at him instead, soft and fond and faintly overwhelmed, and then he finally steps away from him after touching his fingers to derek's side.
he's hit with a surge of excited energy as he starts to look doscoe over, moving from one part of her to the next like a vibrating chihuahua. he runs his fingers over a fender, wiggles the driver's side-view mirror, runs his hand along the top edge of the window where it meets the roof, black like the door. stiles touches both tail lights as he circles around the back, stops to squat by the back tire, touches the hubcap, jumps back up to keep moving. when he gets to the front of the jeep, he curls his fingers in the front grill, flicks at one of the hood latches. stiles does all of this while talking to himself excitedly under his breath, about how all of it is practically the same, just like roscoe.
turning around, stiles moves around the side of the car again while looking at derek, unable to put into words how pleased he is so far, how proud he is of derek for - getting something so important him right, for even doing any of this in the first place. he grins at him as he pulls open the driver side door and climbs in, sliding into the seat and stretching his legs out toward the pedals. he's still got the keys hanging from his fingers when he puts both hands on the steering wheel, and for a moment, he kind of loses himself. stiles lets his hands trace the wheel, touches the hub at the center. he runs his fingertips along the dash, tilts his head back to look up at the exposed metal interior of the roof, reaches up to touch that too like it's the fucking - creation of adam, on the ceiling of the sistine chapel. he twists around in his seat to look in the back, which is exactly as it should be too.
when stiles turns back around, he has to wipe his hands over his thighs. he wets his lips, and he pushes the keys into the ignition, and he turns it over - and she roars to life, just like she did in the garage when derek started her up. stiles just starts laughing - bold and bright and uncontrollable. he drums his hands on the steering wheel, grabs hold of it at ten and two, rocks himself back and forth a couple times in his excitement. he stares at derek through the windshield, stood in front of the home they share together, and he sighs. he doesn't care that derek probably can't hear him, doesn't care if he can. ]
God, I love you. You did this. Dude, you did this! ... For me. [ he slides his hands down the outer curves of the steering wheel, guides them back up, continues to stare at derek. ] I wanna blow you so bad.
[ stiles cuts the engine, keys jingling quietly in his hand as he opens the door and climbs out, pushing the door closed behind him. stiles puts his keys in his pocket and stands there by the side of the jeep for a moment, and then he strides forward - right up to derek, where he grabs the front of his shirt with both hands and pulls him forward. when he kisses him, it's almost chaste. light but lingering, and when stiles pulls away, he's still got his eyes closed. he wet his bottom lip. ]
... Thank you.
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this feels like he's introducing his date to his parents. once derek has slipped out of doscoe and given the proverbial reigns over to stiles, he feels like every scrutinizing look and every careful glance, every little drop of attention stiles pays to all the details, are actually all directed at him. stiles is judging derek based off of his choices, who he's with. determining if doscoe is good enough, and - therefore - if derek himself is.
derek's stomach is in knots, waiting on pins and needles for stiles' approval. derek's never really going to have that experience - introducing someone important to his mom and dad. he never got that far with paige, but he imagines this is what it would have been like.
derek stands patiently in front of the jeep, trying not to lose his fucking shit too much whenever he spies a spot of dirt on one of her tires that she picked up on the way home. his hands are in fists and hanging at his sides, turned inward so his thumbs are pressed against his body, and he's trying to stand as neutral as he can while stiles touches, examines, explores. stiles is obviously thrilled, but he's also very quiet, and his parents were both like that, too. openly friendly to hide any hostility. he can't trust that fucking chihuahua energy as far as he can throw it.
the parent thing is a pretty decent analogy up until stiles offers to blow him.
derek, uh. derek laughs, more out of anxiety than relief, but his fists uncurl at his sides and slip easily into his pockets nevertheless. he stares at his feet, toeing a spiral in the dirt, looking up again just in time to see stiles slip from out of the driver's seat. there's this second of charged, electric energy, where they both just - look at each other, the air silent once the engine's been cut and the smell of the salt air from the beach filling his lungs, but it doesn't last long. stiles steps forward, walks straight up to him, and -
the kiss is a surprise. it really shouldn't be a surprise, because obviously stiles was going to kiss him, derek's an idiot for not seeing it coming - but it's a good surprise, obviously, not a bad one. derek chuckles a little against stiles' lips and feels waves of relief crashing through him, and he tilts forward on his toes when stiles brings them closer together. he keeps his hands in his pockets and just kinda sways, and when the kiss breaks, derek still has his eyes closed like he's waiting for more. it doesn't come, but. there'll be time.
derek leans back on his heels, looking over stiles' shoulder towards the car. yeah. he thinks he did a good job. ]
It's okay. I mean, I didn't build you a car just so you could blow me, but. Good reaction.
[ he's sheepish, bringing his hand up to scratch at the bridge of his nose. it's suddenly-- very difficult to look at stiles without going red, and derek has an image to upkeep, so he focuses on the jeep. there are a dozen questions he wants to ask - if the paint color is okay, if the seats are comfortable, if there's anything about her that's irreparably different to her mother - but he doesn't let himself spiral. he's been getting better at not spiralling, since stiles became his anchor.
he reaches his hand out, tugging at stiles' sleeve, still not looking at him. he's just really fascinated by that jeep, apparently. the jeep he's been staring at for the past few weeks, day in and day out, wearing his hands to the bone. stiles called him a bad liar, earlier in this conversation. shows what the fuck he knows. ]
I'm serious about that date.
[ it's the third time he's brought up the date - the second time he's used that exact wording - but he's genuinely very excited about the idea of it. sitting in the passenger seat, driving out under the stars. being alone in the warmth with the man he loves. he's hinting to stiles that he'll go with him somewhere tonight, if he's willing. ]
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but of course derek would hear the blowjob comment. of course he would bring it up to make sure stiles knows he heard. stiles isn't ashamed though, but he does turn a little bit pink and he does press his lips together and kind of push his fists into derek's chest where they're still closed around handfuls of his shirt. stiles opens his eyes, unfurling his hands and letting his palms drift down derek's front for a moment before pulling them away.
claudia would have liked derek. stiles stands there and just looks at him quietly, even though derek seems preoccupied with the jeep, and he thinks about how his late mother would have loved him, this man who is always there to protect her son. this man who pays attention to him and listens and does his best to make sure he's happy. claudia would have laughed delightedly about doscoe. stiles misses his mom a lot - that's something that never really changes, no matter how long it's been - and he's missed roscoe more than he's ever really admitted, because it seems kind of lame to miss a car, but the sentiment is what's important to him, the memories. her final gift to him.
doscoe isn't roscoe - no car would ever be able to take her place - but she's pretty fucking close. she's a reminder of the people he loves, and who love him in return.
derek tugs at his sleeve. stiles blinks once, twice, like he's coming back from somewhere far away. derek reminds him of that date he wants to go on, the one they still need to hash out the details for, and stiles sighs quietly. happily. he smiles, and he steps and turns so he's standing next to derek instead of in front of him, draping his arm over the back of his neck and reaching across in front of him to hold onto his own wrist. he leans into derek slightly, looking at the beautiful piece of craftsmanship in their driveway. ]
Yeah. Me too.
[ breathing out through his nose, stiles chews at the inside of his cheek, his mouth twisting thoughtfully as he contemplates possible date ideas. he wonders, briefly, what it would take to set up a private drive-in of their own, maybe somewhere out back, or in the woods. set up a sheet as a screen, make some popcorn in the den to bring out with them. he'd have to look into finding a cheap projector somewhere that's compatible with his laptop, but that seems like it could take some time.
and stiles is impatient.
he turns his head to look at derek's profile, wetting his lips. ]
What are— do you have any plans? Tonight? We could, um. We could drive her around for a little bit, maybe pick up some take-out. D'you think she'd get stuck in the sand on the beach?
[ that's a dumb question, because he drove roscoe across what was practically a desert to go and rescue derek once, and aside from breaking down for reasons unrelated to sand and desert, she did pretty well. stiles asks anyway. ]