ficlet: hand in hand
Author: froggydarren
Title: hand in hand
Rating: G
Pairing/s: pre-Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Alan Deaton
Summary: It’s the first time in his life since the fire that he felt this comfortable with someone, and it’s throwing Derek for a loop.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: Cupid!Derek, Spark!Stiles
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 864
Prompt: #205 - amnesty week & #9 - silence
Author's Notes: Part 4 of my Cupid!Derek AU. If you want to read the previous parts, they're bowstring, string of fate, and caught off guard. The last part will follow shortly, because apparently I couldn't wrap it all up any sooner. Ah well.
The conversation stops only when Stiles’ phone chimes in his pocket and they both notice that there’s only silence from the direction of the lacrosse field.
“Wow, okay, I guess…” Stiles starts, and he gets up off the ground.
They both sat down at some point, not that Derek remembers when, and continued talking about magic, about Derek’s bow, about their families. It’s the first time in his life since the fire that he felt this comfortable with someone, and it’s throwing Derek for a loop.
“We should…” he says, and stands up too.
Neither of them move.
Then Stiles’ phone chimes again, and he pulls it out.
“Oh,” he says when he looks at the screen. “My best friend, Scott,” he adds as he looks up at Derek. “Game’s over.”
“Yeah,” Derek replies, and he glances in the direction of the field again.
“So, what now?” Stiles asks, looking at the bow on Derek’s back again.
It’s still buzzing, Derek can feel it against his back, but he’s barely paid attention to it as he and Stiles were talking. The warmth around his wrist is still there too, and when he looks down, he can see that the string is glowing.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I mean, with anyone else, I was just there to shoot the arrow and it did the rest. No one ever knew it was happening. And I can’t… it doesn’t feel right to just… to even aim at you.”
Stiles frowns, but he nods in understanding. Then he pockets his phone and holds his hand out to Derek.
“Come on, I think I know someone who might be able to help,” he says.
Derek, at a loss about what else he could do, reaches for Stiles’ hand without thinking about it too much. When their palms meet there’s a feeling of content that courses through his body, something he hasn’t felt in years. He lets Stiles lead him towards the parking lot, and only pauses when he realises that the only car left there is a light blue Jeep.
“I saw your car,” he blurts out, wondering if it means something that he remembers. “A few weeks ago. When I was here to…” his voice fades out and he shrugs a shoulder to bring attention to the bow. “It was the only car left then too,” he adds, because it seems significant.
When he says it, he remembers what happened after… or in that moment, he isn’t so sure anymore. He glances at the string on his wrist that seems to be pointing to Stiles’ arm now with the fading ends.
“Huh, interesting,” Stiles says simply, but he doesn’t stop.
After they get in the car, they don’t talk. Derek is trying to remember when he noticed the red getting stronger on his wrist, because as much as he’s tried to ignore it since then, he now has to admit that the color of the string didn’t just change at the game tonight.
“What’s this?” He asks when Stiles pulls up at a plain building’s small parking lot.
“Animal clinic,” Stiles tells him.
“But…”
“Come on, you’ll see,” Stiles says, and he stumbles clumsily out of the car.
Derek follows him, because he doesn’t know what else he could do. There are no lights besides the ones in the street, and it’s only when they round the corner and stop at a side entrance that Derek sees a light inside. Stiles knocks at the door a little louder than necessary, and it opens a few moments later.
“Heyyyy there, doc,” Stiles says to the man who’s looking at them with a frown on his face.
“Stiles,” the man replies in a flat tone. “Lesson’s not until morning.”
“I know, I know, but… bit of an emergency here,” Stiles says, and he turns to look at Derek, who’s suddenly feeling the urge to run away.
“Ah, I see,” the man says with a nod. “Come in then.”
Derek doesn’t question why the vet seems to know who he’s dealing with, nor why he doesn’t demand more information. He just follows Stiles like he did since the plea to stop earlier near the lacrosse field, and they both walk into what looks like a back office of the clinic.
“So, doc, can you help?” Stiles asks before the door closes fully behind them.
“What is it exactly that you need help with, Stiles?” The vet glances between Stiles and Derek, and then looks down to Derek’s wrist.
It’s like he can see the string there, and Derek’s eyes narrow as his mind tries to find a memory of why a veterinarian could.
“Okay, introductions first, I guess,” Stiles says, and he sighs, then he looks at Derek with curiosity. “What’s your name, by the way?”
Since Derek is still looking at the vet, he can almost see the mental facepalm that the man is clearly doing.
“I’m Derek,” he says then, just to break the awkward silence. “Derek Hale.”
The two other people in the room freeze, and they both stare at him with surprise written all over their faces. Derek cringes as the room falls into silence again.
Title: hand in hand
Rating: G
Pairing/s: pre-Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Alan Deaton
Summary: It’s the first time in his life since the fire that he felt this comfortable with someone, and it’s throwing Derek for a loop.
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: Cupid!Derek, Spark!Stiles
Submission Type: ficlet
Word Count: 864
Prompt: #205 - amnesty week & #9 - silence
Author's Notes: Part 4 of my Cupid!Derek AU. If you want to read the previous parts, they're bowstring, string of fate, and caught off guard. The last part will follow shortly, because apparently I couldn't wrap it all up any sooner. Ah well.
The conversation stops only when Stiles’ phone chimes in his pocket and they both notice that there’s only silence from the direction of the lacrosse field.
“Wow, okay, I guess…” Stiles starts, and he gets up off the ground.
They both sat down at some point, not that Derek remembers when, and continued talking about magic, about Derek’s bow, about their families. It’s the first time in his life since the fire that he felt this comfortable with someone, and it’s throwing Derek for a loop.
“We should…” he says, and stands up too.
Neither of them move.
Then Stiles’ phone chimes again, and he pulls it out.
“Oh,” he says when he looks at the screen. “My best friend, Scott,” he adds as he looks up at Derek. “Game’s over.”
“Yeah,” Derek replies, and he glances in the direction of the field again.
“So, what now?” Stiles asks, looking at the bow on Derek’s back again.
It’s still buzzing, Derek can feel it against his back, but he’s barely paid attention to it as he and Stiles were talking. The warmth around his wrist is still there too, and when he looks down, he can see that the string is glowing.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I mean, with anyone else, I was just there to shoot the arrow and it did the rest. No one ever knew it was happening. And I can’t… it doesn’t feel right to just… to even aim at you.”
Stiles frowns, but he nods in understanding. Then he pockets his phone and holds his hand out to Derek.
“Come on, I think I know someone who might be able to help,” he says.
Derek, at a loss about what else he could do, reaches for Stiles’ hand without thinking about it too much. When their palms meet there’s a feeling of content that courses through his body, something he hasn’t felt in years. He lets Stiles lead him towards the parking lot, and only pauses when he realises that the only car left there is a light blue Jeep.
“I saw your car,” he blurts out, wondering if it means something that he remembers. “A few weeks ago. When I was here to…” his voice fades out and he shrugs a shoulder to bring attention to the bow. “It was the only car left then too,” he adds, because it seems significant.
When he says it, he remembers what happened after… or in that moment, he isn’t so sure anymore. He glances at the string on his wrist that seems to be pointing to Stiles’ arm now with the fading ends.
“Huh, interesting,” Stiles says simply, but he doesn’t stop.
After they get in the car, they don’t talk. Derek is trying to remember when he noticed the red getting stronger on his wrist, because as much as he’s tried to ignore it since then, he now has to admit that the color of the string didn’t just change at the game tonight.
“What’s this?” He asks when Stiles pulls up at a plain building’s small parking lot.
“Animal clinic,” Stiles tells him.
“But…”
“Come on, you’ll see,” Stiles says, and he stumbles clumsily out of the car.
Derek follows him, because he doesn’t know what else he could do. There are no lights besides the ones in the street, and it’s only when they round the corner and stop at a side entrance that Derek sees a light inside. Stiles knocks at the door a little louder than necessary, and it opens a few moments later.
“Heyyyy there, doc,” Stiles says to the man who’s looking at them with a frown on his face.
“Stiles,” the man replies in a flat tone. “Lesson’s not until morning.”
“I know, I know, but… bit of an emergency here,” Stiles says, and he turns to look at Derek, who’s suddenly feeling the urge to run away.
“Ah, I see,” the man says with a nod. “Come in then.”
Derek doesn’t question why the vet seems to know who he’s dealing with, nor why he doesn’t demand more information. He just follows Stiles like he did since the plea to stop earlier near the lacrosse field, and they both walk into what looks like a back office of the clinic.
“So, doc, can you help?” Stiles asks before the door closes fully behind them.
“What is it exactly that you need help with, Stiles?” The vet glances between Stiles and Derek, and then looks down to Derek’s wrist.
It’s like he can see the string there, and Derek’s eyes narrow as his mind tries to find a memory of why a veterinarian could.
“Okay, introductions first, I guess,” Stiles says, and he sighs, then he looks at Derek with curiosity. “What’s your name, by the way?”
Since Derek is still looking at the vet, he can almost see the mental facepalm that the man is clearly doing.
“I’m Derek,” he says then, just to break the awkward silence. “Derek Hale.”
The two other people in the room freeze, and they both stare at him with surprise written all over their faces. Derek cringes as the room falls into silence again.