Chapter Text
<August>
Beacon Hills, while not the biggest town in Northern California, had a certain charm about it that made twenty-four year old Stiles Stilinski appreciate the circumstances of his birth.
A town where everybody knew everybody else. A town with luscious landscaping, deep foliage, and a backdrop that could brighten up any postcard. A town full of kind people, warm hearts, and a cutthroat high-school lacrosse fan base.
Though, at that moment, the thing Stiles loved more than anything in the town was the jogging trails that littered the dense forests that surrounded the town. Or to be more specific, the 6'5 hunky bodybuilder that jogged in rhythm beside him. Just "Derek", as Stiles had learned a couple of weeks ago.
Stiles, while not unfit himself, certainly didn't compare. With a lean body with about 75% less muscle than Derek, and only coming in at barely 6'0, there was certainly a gap between them.
Not that it mattered. What Stiles appreciated most, ranking #2 just below the guy's ass in his running gear, was Derek's wit, humor, and his bright white smile..
Beaming, Derek laughed as they both swerved to run around an elderly pair of powerwalkers. "So then... My Uncle Peter just runs inside the house, COVERED in Fruit Punch all over his best suit. He swears louder than I'd ever heard him before, threatening to end my little sister's life. Of course, if he hadn't called Cora's dress "tacky" or her friend a “leech”, then he wouldn't have gotten the entire punch bowl thrown on him!"
Stiles laughed alongside Derek, as they both took a wide curve into the long straightaway.
"Cora's your teenage sister, right? Or was that Laura?" Stiles asked, panting as he and Derek picked up the pace for the hardest leg of their run.
"Yep, you got it! Laura's my older sister, the married one, she's in her thirties." Derek panted right back, trying to beat out Stiles on the straightaway.
This last half mile on the trail was their morning competition, where they pushed out the last of their energy into an all out sprint. One that Stiles had yet to lose.
Stiles smirked, pumping his legs a little harder. Derek's heavy muscles would always bite him in the endurance department. With ease, Stiles ran faster, keeping a tiny lead that earned a low grunt from just behind him.
"Every damn time! Fuck, you should be training for the olympic track team or some shit," Derek bemoaned, pumping just as hard.
Stiles just laughed. "Then quit lifting weights and hit the treadmill, you fucking muscle lunk! You trying to win Mr. America?"
Huffing, Derek flubbed his lips. "No, because that'd just make sense! It's for work, actually. Long story!" he grunted, still trying to catch up with Stiles.
Stiles rose an eyebrow. He actually didn't know what Derek did for a living. Or Derek's last name, for that matter.
Derek had shown up a couple of weeks earlier. He and his family had just built a home in the remote woods for more “peace and quiet”, right after Derek finished his college dress. He had started his roadwork training in the early mornings, just like Stiles, to keep his body in shape. A few coincidences at first when they’d meet, but after lengthy, fun workout conversations, eventually they both just agreed to meet every morning at 7 AM for an hour's jog and for some good company.
Reaching the end of the straightaway, they both slowed their paces, eventually reaching the parking lot that started the trail. He beat out Derek by a good pace, crossing the trail marker before him.
Yet, despite the “win”, Stiles pouted, frustrated that the best part of his day was over.
The two stopped beside their respective vehicles. Stiles' four-door jeep, and Derek's sporty modern Camaro.
They both aired out their sweat-stained outfits. Derek’s tight fitting compression gear, and Stiles’ ancient high school tracksuit. Reaching into his Jeep, Stiles pulled out two bottles of water from a portable cooler, tossing one to Derek.
Still panting, Derek uncorked the bottle, drinking deeply from it. "Thanks! I always forget to grab one," he said, wiping the water from his lips, and the sweat out from his sleek black hair.
Stiles nodded, chugging his own bottle. His own chocolate brown hair was sopping wet, perhaps a little more than Derek's. Summers in Northern California, while mild, could still have sweltering days like this one.
“Fuck the heat… I’d rather run naked in the snow than deal with this shit…” Derek said, shaking his head fervently.
“Amen,” Stiles agreed, as they both toasted their water bottles.
They both stood in mutual silence, as they cooled down from the run, and each peeled off the top layer of their outfits.
Stiles zeroed in on Derek’s abs, staring innapropriately.
Derek, by contrast, zeroed in on Stiles’ stomach, staring just as innapropirately.
Locked in silence, they both jumped as Stiles’ phone alarm went off.
“Shit! Sorry, I uh… I have my alarm set for everything, I have zero memory retention,” Stiles muttered, chuckling all the while.
Derek nodded, checking his own phone’s number. “It’s okay… It reminded me I need to be showered and presentable by 9. I’ve got a sho-... Er, I’ve got stuff for work,” he answered.
“Cool, cool… I’ll let you get to it, then,” Stiles said, taking another long chug from his water.
"Well! I uh... I guess I'll see you tomorrow, right? 7 AM?" Derek asked.
Bringing down his bottle, Stiles nodded. "Sounds good! Maybe we'll get a break and it'll cloud up a bit!" he offered.
More small talk. Stiles mentally groaned to himself. What he really wanted to do was ask the guy out, but the topics of conversation hadn't naturally gone to past relationships, sexual orientation, or anything of the like.
With Stiles lacking in friends since his buddy Scott's journey up north for his doctorate degree, it made most days particularly lonely in Beacon Hills.
Corking his bottle of water, Stiles smiled at Derek. "Well, I'll see you, Derek. Have a good day!" he said, turning away and waving his farewell.
Until Derek caught Stiles' hand, gripping it lightly. "Hey! Uh, actually, Stiles... I uh... I actually wanted to ask you something," he sad.
Stiles spun back around, as Derek released his hand. "Uh... Sure, what's up?"
A low blush ran across Derek's face. Whether it be from the workout or something else, Stiles couldn't immediately tell.
"This might be forward of me, and I might lose a jogging partner over this, but... Well, would you like to go on a date sometime? You're too damn cute not to take a chance on. I mean, if you're not "like that", I get it, really! But I just... I don't know, I... I really love our jogs, and we've sort of been doing this for a couple of weeks, so… You know, I… I thought I’d-"
Not giving Derek a chance to finish, Stiles grinned from ear to ear. "Uh, yes! Dude, yes! I've been dying to ask you the same thing for like OVER a week now!" Stiles exclaimed, as his stomach backflipped.
Both of their faces lit up, as the floodgates opened between them.
Derek chuckled along with Stiles, flashing his gorgeous white teeth, and wiping the sweat from his brow. "Great! Hey, uh... How would you like to go to The Park for dinner tonight? It’d be great, right about sunset, with an amazing view. My treat, I can take care of everything!" he offered.
"A picnic? Oh my God, he's build like a brick wall, funny, sexy, and romantic too! Holy shit, what did I do to deserve this karma?" Stiles thought to himself.
"That sounds amazing! What time do you get off work? I'm free basically after 6, er... Actually, I could probably finish everything by 5 today if I multitask while rendering. Yeah, after five!" Stiles countered, already making an itemized list of shit he needed to have done.
"Perfect, I’ll snag you at five, then! Where do you live?" Derek asked.
Stiles laughed a little. Anyone else in the town would know their house. "It's impossible to miss. I live right across the street from the Sheriff's department. Says Stilinski on the mailbox."
Derek's face, crumpled and surprised. "Stil... inksi? Uh... Hold on a sec, how do you spell that? I don't want to miss it," he said, reaching into his pocket and producing a large, shiny smartphone.
Stiles grinned at how flustered Derek seemed, patiently providing Derek with the address, his phone number, the name on the mailbox, and everything short of GPS coordinates.
+++++
The Stilinski home was far from grandiose. A small, one-story white home built way back in the 50's, which Stiles' father had bought from the previous Sheriff, almost a decade earlier. Significantly aged in the architecture, furniture, and layout, their Stilinski house wouldn't be on Better Homes and Gardens anytime soon.
Not that Stiles really cared, walking through the main hallway and back into the living room. He checked his outfit, being doubly sure that he had on his "good" jeans, and not the ones with the paint stains. Maybe the Captain America logo shirt was a bit much, but Derek needed to be aware of the "nerd" factor that came along with Stiles Stilinski.
Which caused a nervous pit of ice to form in Stiles’ stomach.
“Do I tell him about my job? Or is that third or fourth date material? Fuck… What if he’s one of those assholes that don’t thin it’s a real job?” Stiles thought to himself, as he passed by a wall of family photos.
"Should have let me run this guy's record, Stiles. Or at least gotten a last name. Lot of sickos out there," a deep voice grumbled, breaking Stiles’ inner thoughts.
Stiles glanced over to the well-worn red recliner, which his father occupied in his "finest" nightclothes, reading the newspaper. Meaning an old army t-shirt and athletic shorts that had been worn for about as long as John Stilinski had been in the police force. Though as the overworked Sheriff of Beacon County, Stiles wasn't about to fuss at his father's choice of wardrobe.
"Dad, it's fine. We're going to be in the park, where I know you have that unethical as fuck speed trap. Parrish is there, so I'm not worried," Stiles countered, immediately. His father tended to be overprotective, even though Stiles had already graduated early from college, and started his own successful career. “Besides, you had me take self-defense classes when I was a kid. I still know how to aim for the nads,” he added, for good measure.
A low grumble from John caught Stiles' ears, but he chose to ignore it. He moved into the small kitchenette, where his mother was busily fussing with pots on the stove, with something amazing inside the over.
"Mom, does this look good enough for a picnic? I mean, I don't want to overdress, but... I dunno, what do you think? Too casual?" Stiles asked, pointing towards his outfit.
Claudia Stilinski turned around, her pulled up blonde hair swinging behind her. Like John, she too had retreated into a pair of yoga pants and a plain t-shirt. As a teacher at the local high school, and the coach for the swim teams, she too had just gotten off work, after a particularly rough practice session for her team.
"You look fine, Stiles. Very handsome!" Claudia said, turning back to her pots and pans. "Can you get the dishes out for your father and I, and fill up some glasses with ice? Tea is in the fridge," she asked.
"Sure, mom!" Stiles answered, reaching into the cabinets.
As Stiles set the plates, Claudia bit her bottom lip, and stirring the potatoes a little harder than was likely necessary.
"Stiles?" Claudia whispered, under her breath and out of John's earshot.
"Yeah?" Stiles responded, setting the plates next to each other on the dining room table adjoining the kitchen.
As Stiles re-entered the kitchen, Claudia moved to his side, sighing quietly. "Do you think you can handle the water and electric bills this month, and maybe get some groceries for next week? My bank account is... Well, we had to make another payment on our medical loan, and that wiped us out," Claudia asked, clearing crestfallen.
Stiles nodded without a moment's hesitation. "Mom, of course. I'll go deposit $500 in your account tomorrow. That should cover it, right?" he asked, quietly.
"Yes, thank you, Stiles," Claudia whispered back.
Stiles went to another cabinet, retrieving a set of drinking glasses. “You don’t have to wait until you’re wiped out, mom. Just let me know, and I can get you some cash. I don’t want you and dad struggling that bad,” he quietly responded.
A low, exasperated sigh left Claudia’s mouth.
"Thank you for moving back home, Stiles, I can’t thank you enough. Your father and I appreciate it... I know it's not what a young man probably wants to do at this part of his life, but this should only last until the medical loan is paid off. Then you can move on out, wherever you need to go, and live the life you want to!" Claudia said, turning back into the living room. She eyed John, with a loving smile.
"Anytime, mom. You guys mean everything to me," Stiles answered, finishing his tasks and pulling his mother into a deep hug.
Claudia hugged back just as tightly, patting him on the back. "Thank you, Stiles... We couldn't ask for a better son," she mumbled, proudly.
A low chime from the front door caught them both off guard.
Stiles smiled. "That's probably him! I'll get it!" he exclaimed, letting go of his mother and racing over to the front door.
"Oh, hold on! I have to see him!" Claudia said, taking off her apron and stepping quickly behind Stiles.
Making it first, Stiles opened the door, with a smile a mile wide. "Derek! You made it! Welcome to Casa Del Sti... Sti... Sti..."
All words failed Stiles.
Eying up and down his date for the evening, Stiles' jaw dropped inch by inch. Derek had dressed from head to toe in a three piece suit, a complimenting blue tie of an otherworldly silk, and shoes that shone like a star in the sky. His hair, slicked back, gave him an air of formality as though they were on the set of The Bachelor..
Derek seemed to have a similar reaction, eying Stiles' casual attire with the same surprise and disbelief.
"Oh... Uh, am I early? Or do you need some more time to get ready?" Derek asked, stammering quietly.
"Stiles, is this Derek? He's- Oh. Oh my..." Claudia said, pausing beside Stiles and looking him over. A low, approving smirk crossed her lips.
Stiles shook his head. "Uh... So like, what's with the three piece suit? We're, uh... Just going to the park, right? Like, on a picnic?" he asked.
Derek's eyes and face dropped. All color drained from his features, save for a small amount of blush around his cheeks. "Oh! Oh, uh... No, I was talking about The Park. The french restaurant in San Francisco? It just opened up and had great reviews... Err, well, at least that's what my driver says," he paused.
"Driver? Your... Wha-" Stiles asked, peeking around Derek.
Stiles' mouth gaped open even wider than before. Parked outside his house was a stretch limo, with a chauffer standing outside, dressed just as nicely as Derek, complete with the little hat and everything.
"Oh wow. That's really a limo. Stiles, I take it back, you are a little underdressed for this. You might want to go for the Iron Man shirt instead," Claudia said, covering her mouth as she chuckled.
In the background, John Stilinski had finally joined their group. With one look at the situation, he began laughing his ass off in a low roar. Tears rolled down his reddening face, as he began to wheeze from the amount of laughter coming out of his mouth.
Stiles spun around, bright red and 1000% done.
"DAD, OH MY GOD, SHUT UP! MOM, you too!" Stiles yelled, shooing the both of them back into the dining room. The whole situation was bad enough without the peanut gallery.
Stiles turned, ready and willing to apologize for the whole misunderstanding. Though just as he opened his mouth, he watched Derek cover his face up and lean against the doorway. He looked as though he'd killed someone's cat. Or murdered a child. Somewhere in between those mutually horrific scenarios..
"Stiles, I am... I am so sorry. I... I screwed all of this up. I just assumed you knew what The Park was, and I... I'm sorry. I screw everything up, this isn't anything new," Derek rambled, turning just as red as Stiles' father had been, in abject embarrassment.
Holding up a hand, Stiles cleared his throat. "Uh... Derek, it's fine, really. I'm partially to blame on this whole thing too. I… I didn’t know what The Park was either, I should have asked! So, sorry!" he answered right back.
They stood in a mutually awkward silence, neither making adequate eye contact. An issue that Claudia solved as she stepped back into the entryway of their home.
"Derek, why don't you just come in and join us for a nice family dinner? It's not as fancy as The Park, but my husband and I aren't too bad in the kitchen. Plus, I don't think you two could really go anywhere in those outfits together. Maybe McBurger, but you’d get some odd stares," Claudia offered, with a small smile.
Lifting his head up, Derek rose up both hands. "No, no, please don't let my mistake ruin your evening. I don't-"
"Oh hush, and enough about all of that. Now come on in, take off that neck choker, and have a seat next to Stiles, I'll have everything ready in just a couple of minutes," Claudia ordered, taking Derek by the hand and forcefully dragging him inside. He really didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“Yes ma’m,” Derek said, instead. He gave stiles a worried glance before being forced down at the Stilinksi dnner table.
Stiles groaned, covering his face and praying that the night wouldn't get any more awkward than it already was. This was not the romantic picnic in the sunset that he’d pictured.
"John Stilinski, nice to meet you young man, I'm Stiles' father. Do you have a criminal record?" John asked, as he shook Derek's hand firmly.
"DAD, OH MY GOD, NO!" Stiles shrieked, before running back into the dining room to save his date.
+++++
Aside from the original wardrobe fuck-up, Stiles was surprised at how well the evening actually turned out.
Dressed down to just his button-up shirt, looking a thousand times more comfortable than he had before, Derek was just as charming at the dinner table as he was out on the hiking trails.
Between Derek's stories about his crazy sisters, John's cop stories, and Claudia sharing the latest in high-school hijinks, the Stilinski home was filled with warmth laughter throughout the entire meal.
Stiles kept quiet for most of the dinner, instead taking in the conversation itself, and how Derek fit in with his family. Like a miracle, Derek had the kind of humor and sarcasm that melded well with the Stilinskis.
Still laughing from the last joke, Claudia reached over to the meatloaf she'd been baking earlier. She sliced another portion for herself. "Well, Derek, I hope this tasted well enough. It was my mother's recipe, so we've always enjoyed it."
Stiles swore he could spot Derek ascending into heaven as he forked the last of the protein into his mouth.
"It tastes wonderful. Best meal I've had in a very long time," Derek said, warmly.
Claudia smiled back. "Why thank you, Derek," she said, cutting her meat up into smaller portions.
John poured himself another glass of tea from the plastic pitcher in the middle of the table. "So... Derek, what do you do for a living? Are you in school, working, anything?" he asked.
Stiles perked up his ears, glancing over to Derek. He'd been a little curious, to say the least, since the limo and suit had appeared. That had to have cost a pretty penny or two for the rentals. Stiles never really “hurt” for money, but that kind of stunt would have set him back considerably.
Wiping his mouth, Derek leaned back into the wooden chair, taking his own turn to pour himself another glass of tea. "I work for my mother's company, Hale Industries. I um... I have a degree in History, but they have me work... "Advertising"," Derek muttered, mumbling quietly on the last word.
Not that anyone focused on that particular word.
Stiles and John both choked on their meatloaf at the mere mention of "Hale Industries".
The father and son exchanged a glance of disbelief, before turning back to Derek.
"You... You're a um... Hale? As in... "The" Hale industries?" John asked, nervously.
Derek nodded, plainly. "Yeah. Derek Hale, my mother is Talia Hale. She founded the company before I was born," he answered.
Stiles dropped his fork, where it clattered onto his plate.
Hale Industries was one of the world's most influential companies. Known as the company that developed a safer, cheaper, and injectable alternative to chemotherapy, they'd taken the world by storm as the frontrunner in all medical treatments in the last 10 years. Their stock price made most competitors run in fear.
Aside from them being the pharmaceutical giant, they developed a wide variety of surgical tools and inventions that single-handedly increased life expectancy across the globe. Once such invention being the neo-pacemaker in his father's chest, which had saved the man's life not a few months earlier, during a life-saving procedure after a heart attack..
Stiles could have slapped himself for not realizing it sooner. So much made sense now. The limo, the chauffeur, the suit that likely cost the same as their house's mortgage, the hot rod car, the fancy smartphone, and offering to go to The Park on a first date.
They weren't rentals.
"Holy fuck, Derek is loaded." Stiles thought to himself. Glancing down at his wal-mart bargain t-shirt, he suddenly felt... A little less confident than he had earlier that morning. Not ashamed, by any stretch of the imagination, but... Derek seemed so much more out of his league now.
Claudia, helping to break the thick tension that John and Stiles had both created in their mutual silence, cleared her throat. "Well, that's interesting! You have a degree in history? What made you pick that over anything else?"
Derek beamed, as though someone had thrown the poor guy a bone he'd been aching for. "It was always my favorite subject in school. There was this one teacher at Signal Academy who really made it come to life for me, Mr. Deaton. The stories, the events around the globe, and how they completely changed our world really just... I guess it stuck!" he said, chuckling quietly. "What I love most is the biographical stuff. Real people telling the stories during their ages, and not just memorizing dates or facts. How they felt, how they lived, all of that and how it created the world we live in today! The creation of culture, the development of the arts, how everything came together to develop an era of humankind, it's-..." He paused for a moment, then quickly rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. "Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble... Mother says I have a bad habit of blathering endlessly about things people don't care about. Please excuse me."
Scoffing, Claudia pushed aside her plate, making direct eye contact with Derek. She rose a single eyebrow, smirking. "Oh sweetheart, you're in for a treat. I teach history at Beacon Hills High School. You are preaching to the choir, and I can ramble with the best of them! So what period does it for you? Me? The dark ages and the renaissance are my gold mine of reading material!" she said, as life engulfed her eyes.
"Oh boy, here we go," John said, standing up from the dining room table. "I'll go get some dessert, we'll be here for a while," he said, laughing to himself.
Stiles, still unmovable from the earlier revelation, barely made out the hour long debate between George Washington and Abraham Lincoln being the better president, with both Claudia and Derek impassioned beyond normal limits.
He glanced up, watching Derek's fierce determination and passion shining through every word he spoke.
Stiles laughed under his breath. "Damn, I find an amazing guy, one who actually asked me out, and of course he's out of my league. Fuck my luck with a duck," he thought to himself.
+++++
After dinner ended, dessert was devoured, and the debate between Derek and Claudia declared a draw, the Stilinskis and Derek all decided to call it a night.
With his suit and tie wrapped across his arms, Derek nodded politely in their direction.
"Thank you so much for having me. This was really fun," Derek said, bowing his head to the Stilinskis.
Claudia smiled. "Oh sweetheart, it was fun having you! Come back any time, I never get to have that kind of thrilling conversation with anyone!" she said, gently slugging John's shoulder.
John rolled his eyes. "Derek, it was nice to meet you. I hope to see more of you, you're a very nice young man."
"With no criminal record!" Derek joked, flashing his white teeth.
Laughing, John waved goodbye to Derek as he and Claudia made their way back into the living room.
Left to their lonesome, Stiles and Derek stood beside the front door, once more, standing in an awkward silence.
"Stiles... I um... I wanted to ask you... I mean..." Derek said, stumbling over his words.
Stiles felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. Had Derek actually enjoyed himself that night? Surely this couldn't be as entertaining as the upper-crust stuff he must be used to. Was their going to be another date? Was this guy Stiles loved being around going to be okay with their rather... Gaping difference in income?
Derek gulped and took Stiles' hand, just as jumpy and fluttery as Stiles. "I'd like to take you out on a make-up date, if that's okay. I really screwed this one up, so... I feel like you deserve another one. I mean, you ended up taking me on the date, and it was way better than what I was planning, so it's only fair I try and do something just as lovely!" he exclaimed.
Stiles' eyes widened.
Derek moved a little closer, holding Stiles' hand tighter. His hands shook as he held it. "Your family is... Really nice. I'd love to get to know them more, and... You too. I've never met another guy like you, and... Your parents are great, you're hilarious, you're cute, I- Oh God, I'm rambling again... Sorry, I... I didn't mean to impose." he said, laughing quietly under his breath.
"Yeah," Stiles answered, blurting out the answer before he could really think of anything else. He mouth took the lead, gulping loudly. "That'd be cool."
Derek glanced up immediately. "Yes?" he asked, in disbelief. His shoulders relaxed, and the wrinkled lines of stress on his forehead seemed to fade away in an instant. "Thank you! Thanks for giving me a second chance at this, I... I appreciate it!" he said, letting out a deep sigh of relief.
A low smirk covered Stiles' face. "Just, uh... Is there a dress code? Because... My wardrobe doesn't get much nicer than this, I'm sad to say," Stiles joked, pointing down to his t-shirt.
Derek laughed, beaming brightly. "No! No, not at all. If you don't care, I'd really like to take you out to my sister's restaurant. It's a casual place, no dress code, here in town."
"Cool, that I can do!" Stiles replied, nodding.
"Great!" Derek said, gulping in deep breaths. "Then uh... I guess I'll see you in the morning for our jog?"
Stiles nodded, as his own relief flooded through his body. "Guess I will. Good night, Derek."
"Good night, Stiles," Derek said. He bit at his lips for a few moments, staring obviously into Stiles' lips, before shaking his head. "Tonight really was great!" he said, waving goodbye as he jogged out to his parked limo on the street.
Stiles watched the driver open the door for Derek, then quickly moving back to the driver's seat. They took off a few moments later, driving off into the distance.
“Huh… He really likes me?” Stiles thought, as a smile instinctively curled onto his face. His chest felt a little lighter. "Good... Because I like the dork too."