Sterek Library (a03 Edition)

Sick Of Losing Soulmates

By: braedens

Summary: "Stiles?"

Stiles is laughing, hard, something his coworkers said, a joke that probably wasn't even that funny, but they've been up all day going to workshops and seminars, that they really needed to destress and grab a drink. They found the closest bar to the hotel.

He hears his name though, which causes him to stop laughing and look away from his friends, because he's in Chicago, over 1,400 miles away from Beacon Hills, so he's really concerned on how anyone here could know his name.

But he looks up, and his chest burns. Not because of the whiskey, no. It burns from the phantom feeling of the hands that used to graze it, rough and calloused, yet warm and comforting. His heart beats incredibly fast, but not like it used to when he'd see that face, full of excitement and enamor. It beats like it's going to pull from his chest, a feeling he can only really associate with a panic attack.

"Derek?"

Work Text;

"Stiles?"

Stiles is laughing, hard, something his coworkers said, a joke that probably wasn't even that funny, but they've been up all day going to workshops and seminars, that they really needed to destress and grab a drink. They find the closest bar to the hotel.

He hears his name though, which causes him to stop laughing and look away from his friends, because he's in Chicago, over 1,400 miles away from Beacon Hills, so he's really concerned on how anyone here could know his name.

But he looks up, and his chest burns. Not because of the whiskey, no. It burns from the phantom feeling of the hands that used to graze it, rough and calloused, yet warm and comforting. His heart beats incredibly fast, but not like it used to when he'd see that face, full of excitement and enamor. It beats like it's going to pull from his chest, a feeling he can only really associate with a panic attack.

"Derek?"

It's a sunny day in Beacon Hills, and summer has been good to Stiles Stilinski. He saved enough money to fly home for the summer from George Washington to see his dad and his friends.

And, of course, Derek.

Despite Stiles' constant efforts to convince Derek to move DC with him, Derek stayed in Beacon Hills, living with Cora and owning a bookstore, which was more Cora's idea than anyone's. So Stiles cherishes times like this, where he can walk hand in hand with his boyfriend down the street, even if it's only for a couple times a year.

"You know, we've never talked about what we'll do when I graduate," Stiles turns to Derek, squeezing his hand in his as they walk past some restaurants, towards the park.

"You still have another year before you graduate college."

"Which means we only have a year to plan the rest of our lives together!"

Derek chuckles.

Stiles continues to egg him on, and they find a park bench to themselves, dog walkers and children on bikes pass them, but they fall comfortably against each other, hands still twined together in Derek's lap.

"You'll be working for the FBI when you graduate," Derek says, as if this isn't something Stiles brings up daily to him.

Stiles turns to him, his brows upturned. "Your point?"

"I don't want to distract you, you know that." Derek sighs.

"Hate to break it to you, big guy," Stiles presses closer to Derek. "But that's the whole point of relationships. You distract me constantly. I distract you all the time. We distract each other. That's how it works."