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Stiles shimmied through the front door to his house, balancing a bakery box in one hand and a carefully wrapped gift in the other. He was stoked. Yeah, it was Derek's birthday, but Stiles was vibrating out of his skin with anticipation.
He had the best night ever planned, okay? First, he was going to greet Derek with a kiss. Then, he was going to give him a massage. Then, Stiles was going to give the best blow job of his life, because he loved giving them and Derek loved his mouth any way he could get it. After that, he would call for takeout from their favorite Thai place—because fuck it if either of them were going to feel like cooking or going anywhere—and then they would have cake and Derek could open presents. Or, well, present. Singular.
(Stiles kind of counted the blow job as a present, but it wasn't really something he could wrap. Unless he put a bow on his mouth. Huh. He might still have one of Lydia's lip pencils floating around somewhere; that could actually happen.)
He danced into the kitchen, happily humming as he set down the bakery box and the present. Aw yeah, he didn't even trip or anything. This was going to be the best birthday ever; Stiles would make sure of it.
Of course, that was when he turned around and noticed their living room was almost completely dark, except for the one table lamp in the corner. Stiles frowned; it hadn't been like that when he'd left.
He walked into the living room and found Derek lying on the couch, a pillow pulled over his head.
"Derek? You okay?" Stiles crouched on the floor beside him. "C'mon, big guy, talk to me."
Derek grunted and raised the pillow a fraction of an inch. "No."
Like that was going to stop Stiles from asking. Besides, Derek had responded; that meant he just needed to be cajoled into actually talking. "Come on, man. What's up?"
Derek didn't respond for a long time. After three years of dating on top of nearly seven years of knowing each other, Stiles knew it was because he was trying to gather his thoughts.
"I'm hiding."
Talk about stating the obvious. "Yeah, I can tell. From what?"
"From thirty."
Stiles thought he'd misheard because of the pillow. Derek's voice was a little muffled. "You're hiding from thirty?"
The pillow nodded.
"You're hiding on the couch because it's your birthday?" Stiles couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.
"Not everybody gets excited about their birthday," Derek grumbled.
Stiles pushed himself off the floor so he could sit on the couch by Derek's legs. "I'm sorry, dude. It's just...after your crazy uncle and really crazy ex-girlfriends and kanimas and hunters and evil fox demons and more hunters, I'm kind of surprised it's your thirtieth birthday that gets you hiding on the couch."
Derek finally pushed the pillow off his head and sat up, his black hair sticking up every which way and an adorably grumpy frown on his face. Stiles only just managed to keep himself from squeaking about how cute it was. Just.
"I'm thirty," Derek said again, "and you're twenty-three."
Stiles waited, but when no further explanation seemed forthcoming, he prompted, "And?"
"And you're always around people who are younger and smarter and less broken than me."
Derek said it so soft and fast that Stiles was positive he'd misheard. But no, Derek had dropped his gaze to his hands, twisted together in his lap, and Stiles didn't have to be a werewolf to know the misery that was coming off him. That was just so many kinds of no, okay?
He swung his leg over Derek's so he was perched on his lap, and then grabbed Derek's hand and placed it over his heart. "I know you can hear my heartbeat, but I want you to feel it too, okay?"
Derek's brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth, but Stiles put his fingers over Derek's lips. "You can talk in a second. First, Derek, you're one of the smartest people I know. You have so much freaking knowledge tucked away in that brain of yours and you just randomly whip it out like whoa. The only person I know who might be smarter than you is Lydia, and let's be honest, she's smarter than both of us.
"Second, yeah, most of my classmates and coworkers are in their twenties, but you know what they haven't done? They haven't stood between me and a giant paralyzing snake monster. They haven't fought another werewolf to keep me safe." He let his hand trail over Derek's scruffy cheek and rubbed his thumb along the beard there. "They didn't spend weeks trying to help when I was possessed. You...you're always there when I need you. And the hell of it is, it's not just me you do it for. I've seen you go back for Scott, Lydia, Cora..." Stiles trailed off and shook his head. "You're one of the most courageous, generous, determined people I know, and I love that about you.
"And finally, dude, you are not the only one in this relationship who's broken." Stiles swallowed hard. "But us...we're broken in different ways, and our broken pieces fit together pretty damn well. You make me want to be a better person. You get me. None of the things I love about you have to do with your age, although I've got to say, I am REALLY looking forward to seeing you with gray hairs, because I bet it's going to be hotter than hot."
Derek snorted softly, the grumpy scowl on his face fading into something fond. "You're ridiculous."
Stiles bent forward until his forehead touched Derek's. "Yeah, I am. I'm also, like, stupid in love with you. And since that hasn't changed in the past, oh, six or seven years, I feel pretty safe saying it's not going to change anytime soon. And sure as hell not because of a birthday."
Derek tipped his head up and slid his hand from Stiles's chest up to his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Stiles melted into it, slipping his hands up the back of Derek's head to play with his hair. It was one of those kisses that wasn't leading to anything, just a kiss for kissing's sake, a way to say "I love you" and "you're perfect for me" and "thank you for everything."
"So," Stiles said a few minutes later, once they'd come up for air, "I'm guessing I should move the massage and blow job back on the birthday timetable, because you seem like you'd prefer takeout and cuddling on the couch right now."
Derek raised an eyebrow. "You had a birthday timetable?"
"Dude, it's your birthday, of course I had a timetable." Stiles reluctantly pushed himself off Derek's lap. "You said, and I quote, 'no parties or anything, Stiles, please,' which I interpreted as 'let's stay in and pamper me with all my favorite things.'"
The tips of Derek's ears turned pink, as did his cheeks, which told Stiles he'd interpreted that request correctly. He patted Derek's thigh. "Come on into the kitchen. You can open your present, I can order dinner."
"What did you get me?" Derek asked.
Stiles rolled his eyes. Derek always asked, and Stiles still never told. "Forty pairs of athletic socks. Go unwrap it and find out."
Derek made a face, but he followed Stiles into the kitchen and picked at the wrapping paper of the gift until Stiles finished placing their order for dinner. Then he proceeded to rip into the present and stare at it with an unreadable expression on his face.
Stiles took a tentative step closer. "Derek?"
"You got me the entire Stargate Atlantis series," Derek said, and his voice didn't give Stiles a clue as to how he felt about it.
"Well, yeah." Stiles rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "You said it was your favorite."
"Laura and I watched the whole thing as it aired," Derek said. "When we were in New York. She'd spend half the episodes screaming at Sheppard and McKay to just fuck already."
Stiles snorted. "Oh, like you didn't? I've seen your Tumblr, dude. 'McShep for life' is an actual tag on there."
Derek chuckled. "Yeah, she dragged me in. I regret nothing."
"You know, I've never seen an episode." Stiles tapped the box. "Want to put the first disc in while we wait for food?"
Derek took two steps around the table and yanked Stiles into a bone-crushing bear hug. Well, it wasn't literally bone-crushing, because Derek could, in fact, do that to Stiles's fragile human skeletal system, but it was long and tight and brought a lump to Stiles's throat, because he knew what it meant.
With his arms trapped at his sides, all Stiles could really do was awkwardly pet Derek's stomach with the tips of his fingers, until Derek finally stepped back and wiped at his eyes. "Yeah. I'll put it on. That sounds great."
Stiles grinned and hooked his fingers into the belt loops on Derek's jeans, tugging him over. "So, Thai food and birthday cake and Stargate Atlantis?"
Derek's whole face softened and he leaned over to peck Stiles on the lips. "Perfect."
***
(Ten minutes later, before the first episode)
"Now, Derek, I feel I should warn you, I don't normally get into the whole shipping thing."
Derek shrugged and settled on the couch next to Stiles. "That's okay. You don't have to. It's a really good show, and you like science fiction, so I think you'll enjoy it."
Stiles cuddled up next to him. "Sounds awesome. I'm just saying, don't expect me to jump on the McShep bandwagon with you."
Derek kissed his temple. "I don't. I'm just happy you'll watch the show with me. Now be quiet; it's starting."
(Four hours and five episodes later...)
"MOTHER OF FUCKING GOD, WHY DON'T THEY JUST FUCK ALREADY?"