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“Oh… Come on, Der, its not that bad!”
Stiles grinned, poking his side. He was wrapped in three layers of clothing, two blankets, and Derek’s arms.
All because on the night Derek was planning to propose—with a candlelight dinner of Stiles’ favourite foods, music and Christmas lights—the power went out. All power. Along with heating, and the lights, and the stove…
Stiles just had time to drive from work before the blizzard enveloped the city entirely, blocking the roads. It was still snowing, the clouds and the snowflakes reflecting scattered light dimly through the window.
And it wasn’t… bad. It never was with Stiles, not really. It was hard sometimes, and sometimes hilarious, flattering, rewarding, breathtaking… All these things were why Derek was hiding an engagement ring for the last two months, waiting for that perfect moment that never came.
And here they were.
“Okay. Spill. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” - mumbled Derek. He tried to crawl under the covers to hide the bitter sting of failure he felt.
It was nothing, not like he could actually tell Stiles what was it about.
He had a plan, the plan went to shit, as per usual… Derek failed. Again.
How could he tell Stiles today of all days? How could he ask to stay with him forever if he couldn’t do this simple thing?
“Derek Hale!”
The full name was a dangerous sign. Very dangerous. Derek glanced up, finding Stiles beaming with a smug grin immediately.
And then he shuffled closer, kissing Derek gently. His lips were chapped, and cold, and he was perfect. Perfect to cherish and to hold.
The sadness rose up again, and even despite the warmth in his chest at Stiles’ clear attempts to cheer him up, Derek couldn’t simply get over it. Not today. He could still smell the steak slowly defrosting in the freezer, and the half-peeled potatoes in the sink, and even the flowers he hid in the closet to present Stiles after the dinner.
All those little reminders of how it didn’t work.
“Okay… I was planning to do it later. But I just can’t look at this sour frown of yours all night,” - Stiles sighed, heavily, and through the fake put upon frustration, Derek could hear his heart rate picking up.
Faster.
Faster, the nervous, excited beat as Stiles threw off the blankets, shivering at the cold.
As he tiptoed to the closet, swearing at the cold floors. Stiles always had cold feet, and he loved warming them up against Derek, who ran perpetually hot with his werewolf blood.
He dug into one of the lower drawers where the summer clothes were, folded carefully, waiting for the warmth.
Apparently, there were more than just clothes waiting.
Hiding something behind his back, lip bitten, eyes gleaming, heart thumping so, so fast.
Stiles looked gorgeous, even cocooned in the ridiculous amount of shirts and sweaters and pants.
He climbed back onto the bed, glancing Derek up and down.
Nervous.
Why was Stiles so nervous?
“I had the entire speech prepared for this. Well, three, actually. Three speeches, and five scenarios, and… Never mind all that. Nothing of that matters. The only thing that I really need is you, Derek. I love you.”
Stiles was rambling.
He did that often, and Derek thought it was adorable.
Right now, though… Right now he couldn’t think of anything past the giant expanding feeling in his stomach, half panic, half elation, as Stiles showed him what he was hiding.
A little box. A little box with a ring in it.
“Will you marry me?”
“Just… wait here. Wait here, Stiles,” - was all Derek could say.
All he could do was peck Stiles, who was frowning in confusion, on the cheek. And just one more time on the lips, because he was… Stiles.
And then Derek all but rolled down the stairs in his haste to get to his jacket.
To fish out his own little box. With his own little ring.
And he ran and ran, barely breathing, right back to the bed where Stiles was waiting.
Looking at his hands like they did something wrong.
Like he did something wrong, but it was only Derek who was the idiot. Who made this stunning person wait.
No more.
Now he just… dropped to one knee before the bed, heart in his throat, panic in his heart.
“I had a plan. Screw plans. I just need you.”
It wasn’t the best proposal ever, by any count.
It was the best because Stiles smiled, squeaking in happiness, and dropped to the floor in his haste to kiss.
It was the best because Stiles said yes.
It was the best because it was Stiles.