crayola doesn't make a color for your eyes.

[hypercompetent]

let's get zesty.

Comments

LET'S GET actually meeting in person.

[triskeles]

[ Maybe the fact that Laura had smiled at him (rather maniacally, in his opinion) when she came around mid-afternoon to ask him if he could pick Talia up after school should've clued him in. Derek had just raised an eyebrow at his sister, though, and confirmed that he could. She'd clapped him on the arm, smiled some more, and then dragged John out of the apartment complex for a day of misadventures, or something. Something to do with looking at houses (haunted, she'd promised). So he passed the time by doing some work in the kitchen, and intermittently texting Stiles despite the fact he knew that he would still be in class for most of the day.

Still, he usually texted back during recess breaks and lunch, so it was worth shooting him a couple of texts in between them.

But then comes the time of going to pick up his niece, and he pockets his phone while making sure nothing is going to catch fire if he leaves. He knows that Talia will wait however long it takes for him to get there with her teacher, but thankfully he doesn't take long to grab his jacket and head out to take the Cruiser to her school.

Where she waits, most patiently, with the best teacher in the world. Rather obliviously, much like both of them. Her mother is pretty scheming, and Derek already hopes she doesn't pick up the habit from Laura. ]

YEAH finally

[hypercompetent]

[ It's March, and after a cold winter, Stiles' kids are super antsy. Honestly, they're antsy most of the time, but they behave for Stiles, enough that by storytime, snack time and the bus route, most of them are happy and willing to go out to the carpool lot in a neat, single file order. Some days, he has to chase the kids around.

Today is one of the latter.

So cue one frazzled kindergarten teacher, who scoops up Greenberg's kid (seriously, always) under his arm and deposits him safely in the lap of his father before he can run off and pick dandelions again. Stiles returns to his little outpost with one of his stragglers, who'd told him that her mom was gonna be late today, so he's sitting with Talia and playing Miss Mary Mack with her until her parent rolls up.

And when a FJ Cruiser pulls into the lot and Talia perks up, he definitely lets her win the clapping game and looks over his shoulder. The car's not the usual sleek Camaro belonging to his mom, so he looks at Talia, making sure. ] Is that one for you, kiddo?

LAUGHS

[triskeles]

[ Derek puts the car into park and cuts the engine as Talia scrambles to get her things after oh-so victoriously defeating Mr. Stiles in their game. Almost bouncing like an excited puppy, even, and her uncle just snorts a little from where he's getting out of the driver's side. He hasn't actually seen the teacher yet, which is probably for the best. ]

Yeah, s'kay! [ The little girl continues bouncing, until the mysterious chauffeur comes around the Cruiser. And then she's launching herself at him without any warning, save for a sudden "uncle Der!", though by this point he's incredibly used to her excitement. Without missing a beat, Derek slips his hands under her outstretched arms and scoops her up as he comes forward to where her teacher is still standing. ] Hey, Tallulah. Your mom sent me today.

[hypercompetent]

[ Straightening up as the guy comes around the edge of the cruiser, Stiles brushes chalk dust off his khakis and stands up fully, letting go of Talia's hand so she can run at him, and that's when he catches an eyeful of the driver. He looks sort of-- ]

Oh my god.

[ Stiles blurts that out before he can even think about it, in what is very much an unprofessional move as every five alarm warning can go off in the back of his head because holy shit that's Derek Hale. And he probably should've put the clues together sooner--Hale, Hale of a Chef--considering Derek had even mentioned he'd had a niece and oh god.

He wants to slap himself upside the head for being such an idiot, and to maybe gape at the fact that Derek Hale lives here. In Beacon Hills.

Eventually it hits Stiles he needs to say something, and he just--settles for a wave and tries to pretend his ears aren't burning, mentally mapping out the quickest escape routes to his Jeep.

The problem here is he's not sure if he wants to run to him or away. Derek Hale lives in Beacon Hills. ]

[triskeles]

[ Talia chatters about a mile a minute at him, excited to see her uncle and bursting with information about her day. Derek takes it all in stride, his attention largely on her until she suddenly comes to a stop. He's about to ask what the matter is, but then she's looking at her teacher. ] Mr. Stiles, are you okay?

[ He blinks, once, slowly, before looking away from her and following her confusedly concerned gaze to Mister-- ] Stiles?

[ Laura was serious. His recipe buddy is actually Talia's kindergarten teacher. She'd actually taken a picture of her daughter and her teacher, and she wasn't just bullshitting him to give him a hard time. They are currently standing in the pickup area of his niece's elementary school, not five feet from each other, and the picture she took did not do him justice.

Shit.

Honestly, Derek can't stop staring. It's probably worrying Talia a little, if her silence is anything to go on, but he's completely distracted by the fact that he's looking one "Stiles" Stilinski in the face. There's glitter in his hair and clothes, chalk powder still on his khakis, he has possibly the biggest brown eyes he's ever seen, and his mouth-- ]

Stiles. [ Maybe he should be concerned that he actually sounds a little pleased to be saying his name out loud and to his face instead of typing it and hitting send. ]

[hypercompetent]

[ Oh, shit. Well. He knows now.

Stiles stares at him for a minute in the picture of wide eyed "oh my god", his mouth falling open a little stupidly at the fact that Derek Hale actually just said his name. It's weird--they've been texting for months, since Thanksgiving. The first thing he does in the morning is roll over and text him, when he's making his coffee (or beforehand, when the text is usually just "arrghhgkjtghthghh" or something similar), and the last thing he does at night is text him until he passes out. Usually they're arguing about something--customizing recipes versus going traditional, or what the best food to eat when you're wasted is, or if diner food tastes better at two in the morning (it does). Scott rags on him for it constantly, asking him how his boyfriend's doing, and it's embarrassing and absolutely not something Stiles definitely thinks about like all the time.

It's Talia who snaps him out of his staring, the concerned look on her face, and he snaps his jaw shut with an audible click, wiping his chalky hands off on his pants and ruining any work he did on them earlier and offering up his right hand to be polite. ] ...Derek.

[ ..wait. ] --I mean, you must be Talia's...uncle, right? [ Holy jesus how could he have been so stupid. Shaking his head minutely, he looks at Talia, leaning down a little to meet her level and flashing her a smile. ] He's gotta be, I think you have his beard! I can see it riiiiight...

[ And then he reaches out and tweaks her nose with his free hand and very pointedly ignores that his super hot online friend in fact lived in the same town as his.

(Did dating her uncle seem creepy?) ] There.

[triskeles]

[ Stiles isn't alone in this. It's gotten to the point that his current family members ask how he's doing, what recipe he's giving now, when are they going to actually talk on the phone, due to the frequency with which Derek texts the kindergarten teacher. They both have errant sleep schedules, and even when they know the other isn't going to answer texts for a bit-- cooking or teaching or actually sleeping-- they shoot one another texts to come back to. Laura is maybe a little jealous, because he never leaves her random messages. His texts with her are short and sweet.

Stiles has actually gotten him to write novels before, or leave him enough texts that combined they might as well be novels. When he goes shopping, Stiles gets a text about ingredients or the people that he sees in the store or market.

And now he has a voice, a face, to put to the text messages. And it's killing him a little. ]

Mr. Stiiiiiiiles! [ Talia whines when he tweaks her nose, batting at his hand with both of hers as her uncle holds her steady on his hip with one arm. The other hand not snug around her waist is currently wrapped around Stiles' before he can even think about it, and he tries not to think about it after he realizes it. ]

Guess that means we're behind on her shaving. [ It comes out in a dry drawl, but it's easy considering his mouth suddenly went dry. ]

1/2

[hypercompetent]

heyy hot chef guy!!!!!!
i mean that's not your name
but thats totally what ur in my hone
phone

[hypercompetent]

what upppppppppp i am super drujg
durnk
DRUNK

[triskeles]

[ Stiles doesn't need to know he literally chokes on his drink. ]

Hi Stiles. Is it really.
What's the cause of drunken celebration this time, and are you drinking water?

[hypercompetent]

yuppppp
scott but it in there
but ti stayed i like it its afccurate

SPRING BREAAAAAAK
s like the best thing about bein at eacher
teacher
no im a rebel

[triskeles]

Well it's descriptive.
I'll give him that.

Yes absolutely.
Not drinking water to stay hydrated is definitely you being a rebel.
And setting yourself up for a hangover in the morning.

[hypercompetent]

it workscause
youre a chef
and totally hot
and like i didnt tell him ur name for ike a month bc i was like HOT CHEF GUUYYYYS TALKING TO ME AGAINNN
it was awesome

#yolo

[hypercompetent]

'

[triskeles]

[ It's been a year and a couple months since he and Stiles first started talking, about six months since they first started this tentative thing between them, and Derek is still sort of finding his way. Between fleeting touches and dates that are actually dates instead of Derek trying to pretend they aren't, it's... it's actually been good.

Been a long time since things had been good, especially like this.

With his casserole loaded up and slowly cooling to edible temperatures, he tries to stop staring at himself in the visor mirror like he's back in high school all over again. He tousles his hair, fixes it again, and then finally gets out of the Cruiser to go up to Stiles' apartment. Thank god Laura has a Christmas party to take her and John and Talia to for work, otherwise he knows he'd be given such horrible shit for his behavior.

They've gone to parties held by the coalition of housewives together. But maybe this one is different. He doesn't know. All he knows is that he needs to pick Stiles up so that they can go to it, because the housewives want Stiles there-- both as some of their kids' teacher, and as Derek's "beau," he's going to kill them all with food poisoning.

Straightening his sweater again, for the umpteenth time, he raises his hand and knocks on the apartment door. ]

[hypercompetent]

[ The thing about Christmas as a teacher is that somehow, you will end up getting invited to someone's dinner. Stiles is especially victim to this, because he's not only a kindergarten teacher, but skinny, young, and male. He's been constantly told to eat more throughout the year, and the kids who leave him presents are often accompanied with bags of cookies or trays of casserole or something from their parents, too.

Making friends with Derek is like the final linchpin in their plan to get him involved in their plans. The kid's parents are always open and inviting him to things, but it's weird to go see his student's parents in casual settings, and so he always has some kind of excuse or reason not to go. Derek--Derek is friends with most of them. It seems like it's because he's just soft, or because he really likes helping people, but they love him, and impressing them is just as terrifying as impressing them on parent teacher conference day. He's been teaching for two years now, and he's starting to slowly get his feet under him, but it doesn't change the fact that these women are terrifying, whether in the case of kids or...of love, really.

He's admitted that much to Scott. To Allison, drunk and laying on the floor and bemoaning his life, that he's absolutely in love with the stupid video blogger who he stalked one night, the guy that ended up by some serendipity living just down the road, who Stiles has been hanging out with nearly nonstop for a year. He's been stupidly in love with him for at least two thirds of that time period. They go out together at least once a week, and Stiles is at his place every day after work, even if it's just for what he's called "after school snacks", jokingly. After resolutely declaring this his "ten year plan, part two", Stiles has spent most of the year pining and pretty much gave up on anything actually happening anytime soon.

Maybe he'll just have to make that first move--it's just a matter of when.

Standing in his apartment and trying to decide what to wear is a nightmare. It ends up being Scott who makes the suggestion, from where he's sprawled on the couch--"just wear that thing you wear to the conferences."

Scott is a genius. Stiles loves him.

So it's not nice, or anything--a button up, a tie that actually matches, and a soft gray sweater Lydia had gotten him for Christmas a couple of years back. He wears it for every teacher conference ever, and if he's trying to handle this like a teacher conference, he's going to handle it that way.

So he fluffs his hand through his hair in the mirror. Stares at himself for a second. Stiles' cheeks turn pink and he ruffles his hair again, trying to fix it, but before he can fuss over it, the doorbell goes off. He squawks and stumbles out of the bathroom, leaping over something in the middle of the hallway and stumbles to the door, grabbing one of his converses and jumping to tie it before he can get to the door.

By the time he answers, he's almost breathless, and when he gets a look at Derek--Derek who is wearing a sweater and his hair looks soft and perfect and he trimmed his beard, oh my god--and Stiles' stomach swoops as he feels his cheeks color a little more. ] ...Hi.

[triskeles]

[ Unlike Stiles, Derek doesn't have that problem. Which is probably a good thing, because otherwise the housewives would hound him about eating as much as they do about getting him to go out. It's easy enough for them to get him to come to their houses, out on lunch dates with them like he's got an army of mothers more than he does an army of older friends. The idea is incredibly strange, due in part to having lost his actual mother but also because these ones have been celebrating his birthday for the past five years.

And he forgets that they do, every single year.

He tries not to jitter as he waits for Stiles to answer the door, messing with the wrists of his sweater absently as if he's got something to actually adjust there. But he can hear Stiles moving around, Scott making fun of him playfully-- though he can't quite catch what he says-- and a noise that is likely Stiles crashing near the door to put his shoes on. He's seen the routine enough times by this point, really.

They've been spending so much time together at his place, and sometimes at Stiles', that he knows all of his patterns. Stiles has left a trail of glittery destruction in his wake everywhere in the loft, his own ingredients tucked in his fridge and cabinets, clothes in his laundry from nights where he's stayed over after long days spent grading papers and cooking together. The entire thing is eerily domestic, without any of the added perks. But he isn't complaining, not when he's got Stiles in his life at all.

He also isn't complaining when the housewives make sure that he knows Stiles is invited, and that he's not allowed to weasel his way out of this. He makes a promise to them that he'll bring Stiles, even if he has to throw him over his shoulder and bring him like a sack of potatoes.

A slight jolt straightens his spine as the door opens, and he opens his mouth as if he's going to say something. But he doesn't, staring a little owlishly at him as he takes in his clothes and hair and the flush already high on his cheeks and around his ears.

God, he's gorgeous. God, this is bad. ]

Hey. [ A smile quirks at his mouth, a little lopsided but pinching around the corners of his eyes. ] You look good.

[ Is that weird? It isn't, is it? He doesn't think it could be. ] Ready?

[hypercompetent]

[ The "oh my god" that slips out of his mouth is definitely not actually supposed to, but he can't help it. This stupid crush on Derek has reached Lydia like proportions, and Stiles has the distinct feeling that it's only going to get worse over time.

But if Derek doesn't return the favor, then so be it. Stiles is damn good at the pining game.

His smile shifts up to something lopsided as he looks at him, a little bit of unbridled affection in his brown eyes before the compliment registers and the flush on his cheeks darkens a little. ] It's my parent teacher conference outfit.

[ A hand comes up, waves a little like he's trying to dissipate it, don't be ridiculous, he doesn't know what you're talking about. Stiles pauses and looks at him, though, mid gesture, then holds up a finger, only to stumble back into the apartment. He returns a couple of seconds later holding a round tin full of thumbprint cookies in a bunch of different colors and flavors.

Then, he shoots him a little more of a stupid grin, nodding at Derek, and rests the tin on his cocked hip.

God he still looks stupidly attractive--Stiles wants to fist his fingers in that sweater. This is the worst. ] Yeah, didn't want to go to the sharks without the chum first. Let's go.

[ He's not a plus one. He was invited too. That's just all he needs to keep repeating to himself. ]

[triskeles]

[ A snort manages to leave him at the slip, but Derek doesn't comment on it. Just leaves it as he always does, just Stiles being Stiles-- which doesn't make it easier-- and just shrugs a shoulder in response to his attempts to wave it off. It doesn't matter if it's his parent teacher conference outfit. He looks good in it, the way the sweater follows the taper of his body from broad shoulders to slender hips. When did he notice that? He doesn't even know.

There's a heat at the back of his neck and aiming for his ears, but he ignores it because there's something incredibly pleasing about watching pink become a little redder, and he tries to remind himself that he's not supposed to run his fingers over it. (Or want to put his mouth on it.)

He waits as he watches Stiles disappear into the apartment again, expression soft and fond as he does. ]

Good plan. They're vicious, and need appeasement. [ A small huff of a laugh leaves him, and he nods his head back so that they can head out over to the car. ] Which means we need to go before we're late, because that'll just incite them further.

[ Though he's going to pretend it's not because they'll think they were up to something beforehand. ]

[hypercompetent]

[ it's been months since derek and stiles became, well, derek and stiles, and the kindergarten teacher, honestly? probably couldn't be much happier. he'd finally manned up and kissed him at a christmas party with lots of tittering housewives to look on; stiles had mumbled that he'd wanted to do that since last spring and things had progressed from there.

he spends most of his days at derek's apartment, cooking with him or helping him with his show, grading and making lesson plans while derek filmed, kicking his feet against the island and appearing in his videos every now and then for the taste test. stiles had been received pretty well by derek's fans--his own instagram picture of their feet, converses propped up on black combat boots, had gotten a couple hundred likes, and a lot of "congratulations"', and the video comments were often the same. they liked to see derek happy as much as stiles did, and you know, stiles was pretty sure he deserved some happiness too.

six months later, and things are still amazing. stiles is finally finally finally free for summer, and he eagerly waves goodbye to the last of the kids and their parents in excitement to head home for the trip derek had told him about last week, for a surprise--the two of them were off to europe, hitting six different food festivals in six different countries.

so they hop on a plane and stiles pets derek's hair and lets him basically inhabit his seat in order to help him fall asleep so he's not freaked out by the flight, and by the time they get off, they're whisked straight off to a festival in bordeaux, france, les epicurales. sitting in the back of a rickety french cab, stiles looks out the window at the wine country unfolding past them, and he reaches forward and wrap his hand around derek's. ] I'm going to eat till I die.

[triskeles]

[ It's been months since they actually, officially, started dating, but Derek's been aware of the fact that they'd been dating for the entire year beforehand, to be perfectly honest. Having it finally kick off at the Christmas party just last winter break under a sprig of mistletoe seems almost fitting, considering how ridiculous their entire relationship has been from start to finish.

But he hasn't complained, and definitely ducked in to kiss Stiles himself after he'd muttered about spring break. (Basically, likewise.)

Stiles has been such a constant in his life that he hasn't batted an eye once at him suddenly appearing at his apartment, with or without him actually there. Laura loves him, Cora delights in terrorizing him, Talia has decided he's the best teacher ever and literally sobbed for an hour when she realized the school year was ending. Derek had to remind her that he and Stiles were dating and she'd see him all the time for her to actually stop, even if she hiccuped for another twenty minutes afterwards and gave him the biggest booboo eyes about if it'd be forever.

He'd kind of like it to be, he'd admitted to his niece and only his niece. Not like his sisters didn't know better, but he'd gotten knowing eyebrows from both of them when he said he'd be gone for a while with Stiles. To Europe. Just them. On a food festival run. He doesn't regret it in the last. Not when he's going to be away from everyone for a while, with small video (and instagram, courtesy of Stiles) updates every now and then.

After being on the internet for so long as a major presence, he can't seem to get away for too long. But that's all right, he met Stiles that way-- he'll continue to be grateful for it, and glad that those that aren't glad they're dating are few and far between. And also have no idea where they live. ]

Don't do that, this is only the first one. [ Derek drawls a little, even as he adjusts their hands a little, broad fingers slotting between long comfortably as he watches the landscape out the window. He will, honestly, take a rickety cab over an airplane any day-- it's not even that he's bothered by heights, or the idea of planes in general, but the movements of the plane and the change in air pressure all just make him feel cagey, uneasy. Stiles is, basically, a godsend.

When they finally stop, he pulls out his wallet and thumbs through his euros before offering them to the driver with a "gardez la monnaie." For Stiles, he gives a small tug to his hand as he opens the door. ] C'mon.

[hypercompetent]

[ it's kind of hard to believe this is actually happening. they're in europe, for crap's sake. last summer, stiles was at home, working at the police station to make extra cash to hold him over until the school year started again, alone and watching his best friend spend all his time with his longtime girlfriend.

now? now it felt like he was having the better summer. not that he'd really try to compare or anything, but it has been awesome to have a pro-stiles kind of year.and stiles has been trying to keep it that way, because derek has turned out to be one of the best things in his life, period. they bicker sometimes, they banter often, they argue about recipes and ingredients and food, but at the end of the day, stiles is better for it. he loves talia, and was the first to swoop her up and cover her kisses when she cried on the last day of school. loves cora, even if she does nothing but give him hell most of the time, loves laura and john.

would he like to maybe add a hyphen onto his last name someday? if it was with hale, yeah. absolutely.

he's not gonna tell derek that yet. it's only been six months. for now, he's enjoying traveling with him, jet lagged but happy as he turns away from the greenery outside to actually look at derek. he even whips out his phone and gets prepared, because derek speaks french to the cab driver, so he films a video and then a little of his reaction, the "can you believe this" that comes with the fact that his boyfriend speaks fluent french.

but he hides the phone like he was being subtle before he's tugged out of the car, and steps out into the warm french sunlight, lifting his arms in the air and stretching (and taking derek's hand with him). ] Dude, I've got like three days to recover. I can die and reincarnate and die again, it'll be cool.

I'm thinking...this is a three day festival, right? [ he tilts his head as he drops their arms. ] So, eat our weight in French food, drink a lot of wine, have lots of tipsy sex, sleep, repeat?

[triskeles]

[ There was one day, where Derek and John had been talking-- he likes his brother-in-law well enough, don't get him wrong, but he can only take so much of John Cheese in one day before he's literally cheesed out-- and John had just outright asked him, in a moment of eerie perceptiveness, about how he'd hyphenate their names. Because even Laura, who got a kick out of John's surname and the story behind it, wouldn't give up the Hale name. Cora doesn't intend to, either.

He'd just shrugged it off, because six months of actual dating plus a little over a year of friendship and pseudo-dating isn't enough time to most people. Society seems to frown upon immediate wedding discussions, diving into relationships, but Derek already knows he'd go for it. Even if it'd be a mouthful.

To be honest, though, his life has improved exponentially since Stiles entered it. He's been happier than ever, especially after everything that's happened in his life. Last summer hadn't really been too awful, but he hadn't had any reason to go near the school. The explosive breakup with Jennifer had happened earlier in the year, and he couldn't go anywhere near the school to pick Talia up from the preschool program they ran in the morning because of the principal. Now? Now he'll march right past her office every afternoon just to bring Stiles lunch.

So, he's thrilled to be a world away with Stiles. He's going to enjoy every minute of it.

If there is one thing that Derek has learned about Stiles, it's that he's not subtle. At all. He eyes where he's hidden his phone, but is more preoccupied with getting out of the car than anything else. The fact that he's got his arm up in the air hardly bothers him, and instead he rolls his head to crack his neck. ] That sounds unpleasant.

[ But he looks over at him as he drops their hands, letting out a hum in answer to his question before it becomes a short laugh. Without prompting, he pulls Stiles closer to him, angling his head towards him. ] More like sleep and have to make you hangover breakfast, then repeat, but yes.

[hypercompetent]

[ tucking his phone back in his pocket, stiles allows himself to be pulled over--a laugh bursts out of him and he slides his free arm around derek's waist, leaning forward to plant a messy kiss on him. he's happy, hell, he's friggin joyful, because stiles doesn't speak a damn word of french--hell, this is the first time he's been out of the country--and he's freakin' ecstatic to be out here anywhere. ] I figured that was part of the equation anyway.

[ giving the hand in his a tight squeeze, stiles honestly doesn't give two fucks if they look like that stupid, sappy couple to the taxi driver, who pulls their suitcases out before driving off--someone already asked if they were honeymooning when they were on the plane and derek was asleep. he'd pretend that he didn't look stupidly fond when he said no.

(maybe next time.)

grabbing his suitcase handle, he gives derek's hand an emphatic tug. ] C'mon, hotel, then food. Plan can't start with friggin suitcases. ~Le suitcases~, if you will.

[triskeles]

[ Something lights up and burns warm in his chest as Stiles laughs, and he loses a smile in the kiss as he returns it easily. They look grossily like those sappy honeymooning tourists and he knows it, even if he hadn't been conscious for the question from their fellow passenger. Outside observers can think it, but Derek is more than aware of it. They give off that joyous glow, and he's... well, he's not going to be upset if they think it.

Because he's happy. And he squeezes Stiles' hand back as he reaches to pick up his own suitcase, not looking away from him as he does. Because there's always been a spark to those big, stupid doe eyes, but now it's warmed the amber into something soft and he can't really find it in himself to look away. ]

It usually is when it comes to you and inebriation. [ Still, he lets himself get tugged forward, hefting up his bag easily so that he can follow him. They have to check in, of course, but then it's off to gorge themselves on food. ] I will not. It's valises, Stiles.