ficlet: crash boom bang
Author: froggydarren
Title: crash boom bang
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Stiles, Derek, John Stilinski, Scott McCall
Summary: Stiles used to love the celebrations that involved fireworks. He'd stay up, watch them from his Mom's or Dad's shoulders, and got lost in the lights in the sky. It had been years since he did any of that though, but for once the pack had time to have a party. Stiles was already preparing to make fun if anyone from the pack got scared of the fireworks.
Warnings: mention of Claudia, sound triggers
Content Notes: It's technically pre-Sterek, but still kind of is Sterek. Post canon, and obviously Derek is back in Beacon Hills.
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 1005
Prompt: #180 - fireworks
Author's Notes: I've played with this idea since I saw the prompt, and hopefully I've pulled it off. Apologies for the unnecessary backstory by the way - this is me holding back and talking myself out of more to stay in the ficlet range. (Still did some necessary cuts :/). UnBetaed, fluffy for the most part. With a minor dose of Stiles-brand snark.
Back when Stiles was a child, he was always the one insisting on staying up late enough to see all the colourful explosions. He loved to watch the patterns, and would shout the loudest when a particularly interesting one burst across the sky. There were still memories of years when his Mom was still alive and would hold him up higher like it made a difference to what he saw. Years when his Dad wasn’t on duty and lit their own small set in the backyard, pushing Stiles gently away to prevent disasters.
That was years ago, though. Since Claudia died, and Scott’s Dad left, neither the Sheriff nor Mrs. McCall felt like celebrating late into the night. Sure, they still had a dinner and they would have the afternoon as a makeshift family, but once night fell, Melissa would head to the hospital, John to the station, and Stiles would settle in his room with Scott, losing themselves in a game that drowned out the explosions outside.
When Scott got bitten, Stiles didn’t miss the chance to tease him with yet another dog joke, this one related to fireworks. He wondered if wolves had a reaction similar to the one that was typical of dogs -- hide under the bed or a blanket and tremble in fear. They never found out, since they didn’t have typical celebrations of the 4th since Peter went rogue. Until a few years later, when Derek came back, Scott ran the territory, and the beacon for all supernatural evil was snuffed out.
“Hey kid, I’m gonna head in,” John called out to Stiles, who was curled up in his favorite recliner, Xbox controller in hand.
“Tell Parrish to get out of uniform before he comes here,” Stiles shouts back. “No need to make people feel like he’s busting the party.”
“Are you planning on inviting someone who doesn’t know him?” John asked as he stuck his head back into the room.
“Well, no, but…” Stiles said and turned back to the screen. “You never know.”
“Please make sure there is a house to come back to when I get back in the morning,” John said, and headed for the door, leaving Stiles muttering weak words of protest.
He only looked up because the front door rattled when someone slammed it shut -- with their foot, by the sound of it. Stiles paused the game and dropped the controlled on the coffee table, and then he got up, stretching before he moved towards the kitchen.
“Derek?” Stiles said in surprise, having expected just about anyone else.
“The pack sent me ahead with food,” Derek said, and he pointed at the paper bags on the counter. “Said they’d bring the drinks and fireworks soon.”
“Oh cool,” Stiles said, and moved towards the bags. “We better unpack this, I’m sure they’ll descend right on the edibles the moment they walk in.”
“Didn’t they all go have meals with their families?” Derek looked puzzled for a moment, but started pulling out the snacks too.
“Have you met the pack?” Stiles said, grinning. “I mean, they have appetites fitting their wolf sides, but Scott’s been like that even before.”
“I’ve met you, and you’ve got no room to talk,” Derek shot over his shoulder as he put chips on the kitchen table.
Stiles huffed, and then he bumped his hip against Derek’s instead of a response. They continued working away in silence for a while, and Stiles reveled in the domestic feeling of it. Back when he’d first met Derek, something like this would have sounded impossible to him, but here they were.
Boom!
The explosion came from the backyard, and the kitchen lit up in red all of a sudden.
“Shit!” Stiles yelped, and he froze on the spot.
Another loud bang followed a whistling sound, and the light was blue this time.
“Idiots,” Derek mumbled, and he started walking towards the window to the backyard.
He had to pass by Stiles though. Stiles, who was standing still by the counter, his fingers gripping the top, knuckles white from the strain.
“Hey,” Derek said quietly, stopping right by Stiles’ side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Stiles breathed out, feeling a little unsteady. “Yeah. Just caught off guard.”
Another series of explosions -- short and rapid pops -- rang through the kitchen, and Stiles cringed.
“You didn’t say you had a problem with fireworks,” Derek said, and he put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.
“I didn’t…”
The next bang was louder than the previous ones, and Stiles jumped again. This time, Derek used the hand on Stiles’ shoulder to turn him around, and pulled Stiles closer.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Derek said, arms wrapping around Stiles’ shoulders.
“I don’t … I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening,” Stiles muttered against Derek’s shoulder, his fists clenched and body tense like he was preparing for an attack.
They stood like that all through the next salve, Derek’s eyes narrowed at the window to the backyard, Stiles’ body pressed against his own. Even when there was a break in the noise, Derek didn’t move, letting Stiles catch his breath.
“Hey guys, you should… oh shit, sorry.”
It was Scott’s voice that interrupted the quiet, and the door slammed shut behind him again before Derek could turn around. He sighed, and tightened his hold on Stiles instead.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbled, and he started pulling away.
Derek only shifted his hands to Stiles’ shoulders, but didn’t let go.
“It’s fine,” he said. “You okay now?”
Stiles nodded.
“Thank you,” he said. “Guess I’ll have to lay off the dog jokes on this one,” he added in a solemn tone.
“Guess so,” Derek said, smiling.
Stiles’ eyes widened when he looked up and realised how close they were standing. Then without either of them saying a word, they moved even closer, and Stiles ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation.
Boom!
“I’m gonna kill him,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shoulder a second later.
He barely noticed that Derek’s whole body was shaking with laughter.
Title: crash boom bang
Rating: PG
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Stiles, Derek, John Stilinski, Scott McCall
Summary: Stiles used to love the celebrations that involved fireworks. He'd stay up, watch them from his Mom's or Dad's shoulders, and got lost in the lights in the sky. It had been years since he did any of that though, but for once the pack had time to have a party. Stiles was already preparing to make fun if anyone from the pack got scared of the fireworks.
Warnings: mention of Claudia, sound triggers
Content Notes: It's technically pre-Sterek, but still kind of is Sterek. Post canon, and obviously Derek is back in Beacon Hills.
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 1005
Prompt: #180 - fireworks
Author's Notes: I've played with this idea since I saw the prompt, and hopefully I've pulled it off. Apologies for the unnecessary backstory by the way - this is me holding back and talking myself out of more to stay in the ficlet range. (Still did some necessary cuts :/). UnBetaed, fluffy for the most part. With a minor dose of Stiles-brand snark.
Back when Stiles was a child, he was always the one insisting on staying up late enough to see all the colourful explosions. He loved to watch the patterns, and would shout the loudest when a particularly interesting one burst across the sky. There were still memories of years when his Mom was still alive and would hold him up higher like it made a difference to what he saw. Years when his Dad wasn’t on duty and lit their own small set in the backyard, pushing Stiles gently away to prevent disasters.
That was years ago, though. Since Claudia died, and Scott’s Dad left, neither the Sheriff nor Mrs. McCall felt like celebrating late into the night. Sure, they still had a dinner and they would have the afternoon as a makeshift family, but once night fell, Melissa would head to the hospital, John to the station, and Stiles would settle in his room with Scott, losing themselves in a game that drowned out the explosions outside.
When Scott got bitten, Stiles didn’t miss the chance to tease him with yet another dog joke, this one related to fireworks. He wondered if wolves had a reaction similar to the one that was typical of dogs -- hide under the bed or a blanket and tremble in fear. They never found out, since they didn’t have typical celebrations of the 4th since Peter went rogue. Until a few years later, when Derek came back, Scott ran the territory, and the beacon for all supernatural evil was snuffed out.
“Hey kid, I’m gonna head in,” John called out to Stiles, who was curled up in his favorite recliner, Xbox controller in hand.
“Tell Parrish to get out of uniform before he comes here,” Stiles shouts back. “No need to make people feel like he’s busting the party.”
“Are you planning on inviting someone who doesn’t know him?” John asked as he stuck his head back into the room.
“Well, no, but…” Stiles said and turned back to the screen. “You never know.”
“Please make sure there is a house to come back to when I get back in the morning,” John said, and headed for the door, leaving Stiles muttering weak words of protest.
He only looked up because the front door rattled when someone slammed it shut -- with their foot, by the sound of it. Stiles paused the game and dropped the controlled on the coffee table, and then he got up, stretching before he moved towards the kitchen.
“Derek?” Stiles said in surprise, having expected just about anyone else.
“The pack sent me ahead with food,” Derek said, and he pointed at the paper bags on the counter. “Said they’d bring the drinks and fireworks soon.”
“Oh cool,” Stiles said, and moved towards the bags. “We better unpack this, I’m sure they’ll descend right on the edibles the moment they walk in.”
“Didn’t they all go have meals with their families?” Derek looked puzzled for a moment, but started pulling out the snacks too.
“Have you met the pack?” Stiles said, grinning. “I mean, they have appetites fitting their wolf sides, but Scott’s been like that even before.”
“I’ve met you, and you’ve got no room to talk,” Derek shot over his shoulder as he put chips on the kitchen table.
Stiles huffed, and then he bumped his hip against Derek’s instead of a response. They continued working away in silence for a while, and Stiles reveled in the domestic feeling of it. Back when he’d first met Derek, something like this would have sounded impossible to him, but here they were.
Boom!
The explosion came from the backyard, and the kitchen lit up in red all of a sudden.
“Shit!” Stiles yelped, and he froze on the spot.
Another loud bang followed a whistling sound, and the light was blue this time.
“Idiots,” Derek mumbled, and he started walking towards the window to the backyard.
He had to pass by Stiles though. Stiles, who was standing still by the counter, his fingers gripping the top, knuckles white from the strain.
“Hey,” Derek said quietly, stopping right by Stiles’ side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Stiles breathed out, feeling a little unsteady. “Yeah. Just caught off guard.”
Another series of explosions -- short and rapid pops -- rang through the kitchen, and Stiles cringed.
“You didn’t say you had a problem with fireworks,” Derek said, and he put a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.
“I didn’t…”
The next bang was louder than the previous ones, and Stiles jumped again. This time, Derek used the hand on Stiles’ shoulder to turn him around, and pulled Stiles closer.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Derek said, arms wrapping around Stiles’ shoulders.
“I don’t … I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happening,” Stiles muttered against Derek’s shoulder, his fists clenched and body tense like he was preparing for an attack.
They stood like that all through the next salve, Derek’s eyes narrowed at the window to the backyard, Stiles’ body pressed against his own. Even when there was a break in the noise, Derek didn’t move, letting Stiles catch his breath.
“Hey guys, you should… oh shit, sorry.”
It was Scott’s voice that interrupted the quiet, and the door slammed shut behind him again before Derek could turn around. He sighed, and tightened his hold on Stiles instead.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbled, and he started pulling away.
Derek only shifted his hands to Stiles’ shoulders, but didn’t let go.
“It’s fine,” he said. “You okay now?”
Stiles nodded.
“Thank you,” he said. “Guess I’ll have to lay off the dog jokes on this one,” he added in a solemn tone.
“Guess so,” Derek said, smiling.
Stiles’ eyes widened when he looked up and realised how close they were standing. Then without either of them saying a word, they moved even closer, and Stiles ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation.
Boom!
“I’m gonna kill him,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shoulder a second later.
He barely noticed that Derek’s whole body was shaking with laughter.