Hey so i read one of your works on Ao3 and it was super adorable and i loved it, it was about stiles and derek sharing a broom closet of an apartment in nyc and cuddling thier way through their issues with eachother and then you wrote a hashtag epilogue, and i can't stop thinking about how much i wanted the epilogue to be another story so i figured i'd ask, my names scarletwaters on Ao3, ok bye and thank you if you decide to write it :)
I had given absolutely ZERO thought to writing a sequel to this, and then I read your message and the ideas started flooding in. Go figure.
Being Derek’s boyfriend goes surprisingly well for a whole year. They move out of the tiny “apartment” into a slightly less tiny apartment. They continue to spoon; they become spooning masters; they are the gods of spooning. Stiles gets the best sleep of his life, and so does Derek. The non-sleeping aspect of the whole dating thing takes a bit more time to iron out, sure, but they get there. Slowly but surely, they figure out how to hold hands on the couch while watching Netflix without getting weird about it. They figure out, to their mutual relief, that endearments weird them both out, but there are other little things they both like even if they’d never admit it on pain of death, such as forehead kisses. They figure out how to do the whole shower sex thing without serious injury. Stiles also finds out Derek is awesome at cooking, when he can be assed to do it. Stiles figures out a lot of very creative ways to motivate him.
All in all, awesome.
Then…. well, then It happens.
It’s been about a year and three months when, one day, Stiles happens to see Derek coming out of a jewelry store.
He wasn’t following Derek or anything, he wants the record to be very clear on that; it’s just, they were going to meet up at the Chinese restaurant on the corner for dinner, and Stiles got there early. Usually Stiles doesn’t arrive early anywhere ever, but this time one of his classes got canceled at the last minute and he suddenly had all this spare time, and so he went ahead and snagged them a table at the restaurant.
That’s where he is when it happens, just people-watching out the window and contemplatively sipping his oolong. That’s when the door to the jewelry store across the street opens and Derek comes out, head down, busy tucking a suspicious little black box into his inner jacket pocket, and Stiles spits out his tea all over the table because what the fuck.