a/n: so here we are again! this is the first sequel to my story The Feeling That I'm Under, so you should definitely read that first. if you have any questions you can find me here.
hope you guys enjoy!
Stiles doesn't know what he was thinking.
He suspects it might have something to do with Derek's mouth sucking marks across his hips making him think it was a good idea to agree to be the one to tell Lydia about their wedding plans.
Because there's no way in hell he would have said yes to something like that.
Unless, you know, he was focusing half of his attention on how he could sometimes feel Derek's breath ghosting over the head of his dick.
Or Derek's thumb tracing circles on his inner thigh.
Or Derek's tongue darting out to lick at the side of his-
There's no way in hell Stiles would have agreed.
Which kind of leads him to thinking that maybe that's why Derek brought it up during sexytimes.
Brought it up.
So yeah, Stiles wouldn't have agreed to be the one to tell Lydia he and Derek decided they want to have an August wedding.
You know, just four months after Stiles actually proposed to him, during the Egg Run.
And Stiles kind of has to give it to Derek for being a sneaky little shit like that.
Because as he watches Lydia narrow her eyes at him and sees her lips thin and hand fingers go tight around the pen she's holding, Stiles understands why Derek wouldn't want to be the one doing this.
It also doesn't help that the first thing out of Lydia's mouth is, her voice cold, "Are you serious, Stiles?"
Totally wouldn't have agreed.
And he's also totally going to figure out a way to get Derek to be the one to tell Laura and Erica about their wedding plans
Or lack thereof.
Since they don't really want to make a huge deal out of this and have a big wedding.
Something Stiles struggles trying to tell Lydia about right now.
You know, considering she looks like she's about to throttle him.
"Neither of us wants something big," Stiles shrugs, proud of how steady his voice sounds. "We also don't want to wait. So we figured, you know, since there aren't a thousand plans to be made, we could get married sooner rather than later."
Lydia just blinks at him.
And hopes she doesn't decide to kill him for killing her plans of planning a huge wedding for him and Derek.
Kill for killing.
Plans of planning.
"Well," Lydia says after about ten more seconds of total silence, her eyes sharp. "I guess I'm just gonna have to plan the greatest wedding ever in under four months. It's not like I'm not up for the challenge."
Stiles breathes out a sigh of relief.
And gets an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to him and kissing her cheek.
"You're up for anything you set your mind to. You'll make it happen."
"I know," Lydia says, lips tilting up. "Which is why you won't complain when I tell you to meet me for your suit fittings."
Stiles presses his lips together.
And then sighs.
Well, he can't win them all.
Stiles doesn't complain about the suit fittings.
He also doesn't complain about choosing china patterns and color schemes and flower arrangements and fonts for the wedding invitations.
But he does put his foot down when Lydia starts talking about their honeymoon.
"You're not planning mine and Derek's sex getaways," Stiles says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest, not at all embarrassed about referring to his and Derek's honeymoon as a sex getaway.
No matter how much Derek's eyebrows are judging him right now.
"Stiles-," Lydia tries.
"No," Stiles shakes his head. "Not happening."
"Derek?" Lydia turns to him, trying for help.
"I'm kind of curious about what Stiles has in mind for our sex getaway," Derek deadpans, a small smile forming on his lips when Stiles turns to glare at him.
Not that he's angry.
He did get Derek to say sex getaway.
"Fine," Lydia huffs, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "But don't come talk to me if something goes wrong."
"It's alright," Stiles waves a hand at her. "Scott's our emergency contact. If anything goes wrong or we end up in the hospital because of a sex injury, they'll just call him."
Derek chokes on his tongue.
Stiles smiles sweetly.
And Lydia doesn't mention honeymoon plans again.
"Who's going to be your best man?" Stiles asks Derek, flopping down on the couch beside Derek and throwing his legs over his lap.
"Boyd," Derek says without hesitation, hand coming to rest on Stiles' ankle. "You?"
Stiles snorts, rolling his eyes. "Like that's even a question."
Derek raises an eyebrow at him, lips curled up. "You know he's probably going to cry, right?"
Stiles smiles, all fondness, and shrugs one shoulder. "Wouldn't be Scott if he didn't."
And it really wouldn't be.
Not that Stiles has to worry about that, because Scott starts tearing up as soon as Stiles asks him to be his best man.
He also pulls Stiles into a hug and promises he won't try to invite any strippers to his bachelor party.
"I know the only booty you want to see shaking is Derek's," Scott says, voice muffled by Stiles' shirt. "But I promise to get you some body glitter so you can use later. Just don't tell me about it."
"Thanks, Scotty," Stiles sniffs. "You're the best."
Stiles doesn't ask Derek about what were Boyd's plans for his bachelor party.
Not after he sees the frosting stains on Derek's pants and the two boxes in their fridge full off of red velvet cupcakes with chocolate miniatures dicks placed on top of vanilla frosting.
Derek also doesn't ask Stiles about what were Scott's plans for his bachelor party.
Not after he sees the feathers and purple wig on their bedroom floor and finds Stiles on their bathroom trying to clean off the eyeliner smudges under his eyes.
They decide it's just better for everyone involved if they don't talk about it.
You know, with the exception of the body glitter.
That, well, they just decide it's best to keep between themselves.
And Scott, who tries to be happy and not uncomfortable about his bro getting laid when Stiles takes him out for breakfast as a thank you two days later.
"Goodbye, baby," Stiles sighs, kissing Derek's eyelids. "Don't forget me."
Derek snorts, hands tightening on Stiles' hips.
"I don't think that's possible," Derek says dryly, rubbing their noses together. "I am marrying you tomorrow, after all."
"Yeah," Stiles says dreamily, biting down on his bottom lip. "We really are, aren't we?"
"Yes," Derek nods, brushing their lips together once, eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiles.
And seeing Derek happy like that does something to Stiles.
It makes him want to let go of him ever again, makes him just want to stay right where he is and stare at Derek's smiling face for the rest of his life.
"Why did we think it was a good idea to spend the night before the wedding apart, though?" Stiles pouts, leaning more of his weight against Derek's body as he moves his hands from Derek's chest to his shoulders. "Because it's not. It's awful and I don't want to do it anymore."
Derek chuckles, nuzzling at Stiles' cheek, his arms wrapping around Stiles' waist. "I could try sneaking into your dad's house after he goes to bed, but I don't want to risk getting shot."
"Because that's exactly what I'd do if I found someone trying to break in," the Sheriff says as he comes to lean against the door, arms crossed over his chest, a small smile on his lips.
"Spoilsport," Stiles mumbles, glaring at his dad.
"Grab your things and say goodnight to your fiancé," his dad says, rolling his eyes at the goofy smile on Stiles' face at the word fiancé. "You'll see each other tomorrow."
"You should probably go wait in the car then," Stiles tells him, wiggling his eyebrows. "Because you're not gonna want to see what's about to happen."
The Sheriff raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed, but still turns around and does exactly that, leaving Stiles and Derek alone once more.
"I'm not having sex with you while your father's outside," Derek warns him, making Stiles laugh.
"I wasn't going to go that far," Stiles says, leaning closer. "Even if I do know you'd be unable to resist if I did try to seduce you."
Derek purses his lips together, but doesn't argue.
They both know he can't.
Stiles grins in victory and goes on for a kiss, soft and chaste at first, knowing he has to make it a great one to keep them through the night.
That they'll be spending by themselves.
At different houses.
And Derek lets him, accepting what Stiles is giving him, making a tiny sound in the back of his throat like a moan when Stiles nips at his bottom lip, traces the seam of his lips with his tongue, licks his way into Derek's mouth, slow and careful and like he never wants to stop.
When Stiles pulls back they're both flushed, lips red and swollen, and they can't help but press their lips together once, twice, three more times.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Stiles asks, resting their foreheads together.
"Wouldn't miss it," Derek tells him, lips twitching up. "Love you, Bunny."
"Love you too, baby," Stiles kisses the tip of his nose, stepping back.
Derek walks him to the door, catching him by the wrist and pulling him into a quick kiss before letting go, leaning against the frame as he watches Stiles walk to his dad's car.
Stiles can't help the way his heart constricts in his chest as they drive away.
And Stiles doesn't listen to his dad yell at him when he rolls the window down and sticks his head out of it, half of his upper body hanging out as well, waving at Derek and screaming, "See you at our wedding!"
The way Derek throws his head back and laughs before waving back, though, makes it totally worth it.
"I know, Scott," Stiles huffs, messing with the cufflinks of his shirt. "You can stop saying my name like that."
"You have to admit this is kind of a big deal, though," Scott says, slapping Stiles' hands away. "Since, you know, you are getting married in half an hour. To Derek. The love of your life."
Stiles doesn't choke on his tongue.
He's also not nervous about this whole thing.
And by this he means wedding.
His and Derek's.
Because they're getting married today.
Stiles doesn't make another choked up noise.
No matter what Scott, who's wearing his best man's grey suit pants and vest and with a white button down tucked underneath, says.
"You think you're so helpful," Stiles wheezes, finding the nearest chair and falling heavily on it.
"Dude," Scott says quietly, walking up to him and resting a hand on the back of Stiles' neck, squeezing it. "You know you don't have to worry, right?"
Stiles looks helplessly up at him, hating his traitorous brain for making him worry about all of this now, a few minutes before he has to walk down the small aisle set up in the middle of the Hale's backyard and go marry Derek.
"I-," Stiles closes his mouth, at a loss for how to continue.
Because he does know he doesn't have to worry, knows that feeling panicked about all of this now doesn't make any sense, but it's not like he can help it.
"Stiles," Scott sighs, pulling up a chair and sitting down so they're eye to eye, his hands moving to Stiles' shoulder. "I'm only going to say this once, so you have to pay attention, okay?"
"Okay," Stiles croaks out, nodding.
"Derek's so in love with you it's kind of gross hanging out with the two of you sometimes," Scott says, blunt as ever, grinning when Stiles' snaps to attention and gapes at him. "I mean, I'm happy you found someone that looks at you like you hang the moon and all that, but it's sappy."
"How sappy?" Stiles asks, smiling back a little despite himself, because god knows Derek's the king of mushy things.
Scott just gives him a pointed look before saying, "Hella."
Stiles chokes on a laugh this time, feeling a bit better. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, bro," Scott shakes him lightly. "And there's no doubt in my mind he's gonna be waiting for you down the aisle looking like he just won the lottery or something."
"But he did win," Stiles sniffs weakly. "The lottery of love."
Scott rolls his eyes at him but doesn't disagree, getting up and pulling Stiles up with him before going on for a hug.
"I'm happy for you," Scott says quietly. "You deserve this. You deserve everything."
"Thanks, Scott," Stiles tells him, hugging him tighter. "Thank you for being here with me today."
"I'm your brother," Scott says when he pulls back, like it's nothing. "No place I'd rather be."
"Is Scott done giving you a pep-talk?" the Sheriff asks, making his way into the room.
And only wearing dark grey suit pants and a crisp shirt.
Stiles maybe kind of resents him a little bit.
"We're all good," Scott says, winking at Stiles. "I'm gonna go see if Lydia needs any help."
Scott closes the door behind him, leaving Stiles and his dad alone in one of the guest bedrooms of the Hale house.
His dad takes Scott's empty sit on the chair by Stiles' side, an arm making its way around Stiles' shoulder, his hand cupping the back of Stiles' head like he used to do when Stiles was little.
Stiles lets his forehead drop against his dad's shoulder, and even though they both know they're thinking about the same thing, the same person, they keep quiet, the silence stretching between them.
"She would have been proud of you," his dad says, voice quiet and sad. "Both of you."
"I know," Stiles mumbles, fingers curling around the sleeve of his dad's suit.
"And happy," the Sheriff adds.
"And she probably would have let something embarrassing slip when she made a speech at the reception, like telling everyone about how you used say you wanted to marry the Beast from Beauty and the Beast because he looked fluffy."
"Dad," Stiles whines, glaring when his dad laughs and lets go of him.
"I have to say," his dad scratches his chin, eyes glinting. "Derek kind of looks like him, with the eyebrows and the scowling."
"Oh my god," Stiles groans, hiding his face behind his hands. "You're not supposed to make fun of me on the day of my wedding."
"You're my son," the Sheriff says, all fondness. "It's my job as a parent to embarrass you."
Stiles drops his hand and gives him dad a look. "It's also your job to give me encouraging words when I'm about to promise my life away to another person."
The Sheriff is the one to give Stiles a look this time. "Don't ever try and pretend you're not a hundred percent sure you want to go through with this, because you are. Hell, I think you've been since the first time you saw him, kid."
Stiles purses his lips and ducks his head, cheeks heating. "Well."
His dad snorts, shaking his head, before his expression softens.
"I'm happy too, you know," his dad tells him. "And proud. Derek's a good guy."
"The best guy," Stiles corrects automatically.
"The best guy," the Sheriff rolls his eyes. "Anyone can see how good and gone for each other you two are, Stiles. It's going to be okay."
Stiles lets out a breath, swallowing hard, before nodding. "I'm good."
"Of course you are," his dad gives him a sharp nod and amused smile.
Stiles makes a face at him.
Only to pale and for his hands to start shaking when someone knocks on the door and Allison sticks her head inside, her dimples showing when she sees them.
"Are you okay?" she asks Stiles, inching her way into the room, her light pink and knee-length strapless dress in sight.
"I will be after Derek marries me," Stiles says shakily, wringing his hands together.
"You're in luck then," she perks up, smile widening. "Because it's time."
It feels like Stiles' insides rearrange at that, his heart going into overdrive and his mouth drying as he stares from Allison to his dad and back again without knowing what to do.
His dad sighs, Allison biting down on her bottom lip like she's trying not to laugh, and places a hand on his shoulder, turning him around so they're face to face.
"Stiles," his dad says, using his Sheriff voice.
"Yes?" Stiles blinks, voice cracking, hands curling into fists.
"I'm okay," Stiles repeats, nodding.
"And you're gonna go outside."
"And I'm gonna go outside."
"And you're going to marry Derek, the man you love."
"And I'm going to marry Derek," Stiles breathes out, sounding very far away.
He's going to marry Derek.
As in, right now.
Like he's been pretty much wanting to do since he first saw him, with bunny makeup on his face.
You know, like his dad said he did.
"He's good," the Sheriff tells Allison, and then gives Stiles a pat on the cheek. "You're good. Let's just get you properly dressed. Wouldn't want Lydia to complain about you not wearing the clothes she bought for you."
Stiles barely registers having his dad and Allison help him with his suit, mind stuck in a loop of marrying and Derek as they make their way downstairs.
And after that he barely registers what Lydia did with the yard, set up in a similar fashion of Erica and Boyd's wedding but still so different, or his friends and family standing as he appears.
He doesn't really see or feel his dad giving him a pat on the back before taking his seat up in the front row with Mrs. McCall, who's wearing a short sleeved blue flowers dress and already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, nor does he see Allison flash him a smile before joining them both, helping Tori, who has on a light green dress with light purple hearts all over it, get up on a chair before taking Jamie from his grandma's arms.
He doesn't see Erica, in a flowy red dress that ties at the back of her neck, holding a quiet but still smiley Kyle up, her red lips forming a wide smile, her eyes shining with unshed tears and she looks at him.
He doesn't see Danny's beam and dimples or Ethan wiggling his eyebrows at him, both dressed much like Stiles' dad.
He doesn't see Lydia's soft smile and watery eyes, in a yellow dress with lace at the neckline, as she leans back against Jackson's chest, his arms around her waist, his jaw locked like he's feelings happy feels and he's not sure he likes it.
He doesn't see Zach wave at him or Alex grin or Laura, in a light purple gradient dress with a sweetheart neckline, purse her lips together and look skyward as she blinks repeatedly as if trying not to cry.
He doesn't see Cora's small and approving smile, her dress pants and button down shirt because she refused to wear a dress, or Isaac's grin as he gets his arms around her shoulders and pulls her to him, his chin resting on top of her head.
He doesn't see Peter's smirk or him looking from Derek to Stiles like he did something right, not that he gets to take credit for bringing them together.
That's all Lydia.
He doesn't see Scott up by the altar giving him a thumbs up, nor does he see Boyd, dressed the same as Scott, roll his eyes at that before turning to Stiles and give him a nod, and he really doesn't see Talia, in a long and light and almost white dress, standing in between them, eyebrows raised, like she totally knows he's not paying attention.
You know, because he's busy staring at Derek.
Who's standing there.
At the altar.
Wearing a very light grey vested suit with a white button down underneath, much like Stiles', and smiling brightly and with eyes wet and looking about the most beautiful person Stiles has ever seen.
Which is why he kind of just says, "Fuck it," and runs.
Totally ignoring the laughter and exasperated sighs and Lydia throwing her arms up like she's completely giving up on him.
Not that he cares.
Not that he cares at all.
Because Derek's in front of him and Derek's arms are coming around his waist and Derek's lips are pressing against his own, kissing him, their teeth clinking together because they're smiling so much.
You know, until he hears someone clears their throat super close to them.
That someone being Derek's mother.
Who's supposed to officiate the wedding.
"I swear I raised him better than this," Stiles hears his father mumble just as he pulls away from Derek, keeping his arms firmly around his shoulders.
He doesn't even bother looking away when he hears people laugh at his dad's comment, too busy staring into the eyes of the guy he's going to be spending the rest of his life with.
And Stiles can't help but lean in again and kiss Derek at that thought, not caring about their audience, because he's going to spend the rest of his life with Derek.
"Dudes," Scott says, also clearing his throat, even going as far as tapping Stiles on the shoulder. "The wedding."
"Oh," Stiles says, breaking the kiss. "Right. The wedding."
Derek snorts, rubbing their noses together, his arms going impossibly tight around Stiles' waist.
Stiles can see Boyd over Derek's shoulder rolling his eyes, before turning to Talia and saying, "I think it's best if we just get to the important part."
Stiles gets distracted from telling Boyd to keep his opinions to himself by the way Derek's entire face turns red, from his hairline to the tips of his ears to his neck.
He looks happy, though, deliriously so.
Stiles kinds of wants to kiss him again.
Not that he thinks everyone will appreciate it.
Talia accepts Boyd's advice, smiling at both of them like she has not a care in the world.
Stiles suspects she knew something like this would happen all along.
You know, when she doesn't hesitate but to go right on asking if, "Stiles Stilinski, do you accept Der-"
And, also, considering she doesn't even bat an eyelash when Stiles talks right over her in his rush to be married to Derek and says, "I do. So much."
Unlike his dad and Scott, who make a noise like they're being strangled.
"Stiles," his dad sighs, which only makes Stiles give him an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry, but I'm excited," he says honestly, turning back to Derek. "It's not every day I get to marry Derek Hale."
Derek shakes his head at him, looking all kinds of embarrassed by all of this.
And also pleased, considering the way he keeps smiling like this is the best thing that's ever happened to him.
Which is something Stiles has to agree with, because he doesn't think anything will ever be able to top this.
Because he's marrying Derek Hale.
You know, as soon as he says-
"I do, too," Derek tells him, right as his mom opens her mouth to ask him the question. "So much."
And looks skyward, as if asking for strength.
Kind of like Lydia is doing.
And then says, an amused and indulgent smile on her lips, "I now declare you married."
She doesn't get to the kissing part, though, with Stiles and Derek taking upon themselves to start at it again, laughing into each other's mouths as they do it.
They only stop when Scott starts yelling, "Wait! Wait! We forgot the rings!"
"I swear this is not how things were supposed to go," Lydia tells them, covering her face with her hands.
Jackson kisses the top of her head and tells her, "Still one of the best weddings I've been to."
"Hey," Danny and Ethan say, all mock offense.
"I think mine and Erica's was better," Boyd comments, smiling when Erica winks at him.
And when Kyle yells, "Yes!" and starts waving at him.
Stiles looks around and both he and Derek kneel down when Tori starts making her way towards them, one of her little hands clutched tightly to her chest.
"Now," Tori says, sounding incredibly serious for a four year old. "You have to promise you won't lose them. They're important."
"We promise we'll take care of them, bug," Derek says, eyes crinkling at the corner.
"Forever," Stiles nods.
"Pinkie promise?" Tori asks, and Stiles and Derek promptly offer her their pinkies.
Stiles thinks he hears someone coo, along with the sound of someone snapping pictures.
Tori seems satisfied, though, because she opens her hand to reveal two white gold bands, kissing Stiles and Derek on the cheek when they each get one before walking back to her mother.
They get up and don't bother saying anything before sliding the rings on their fingers, grinning the way whole, and only stopping to let Laura take a picture before they're kissing again, open mouthed and wet.
"Are they going to be like this all the time?" Zach asks. "Because that's kinda gross."
"Gross!" Kyle repeats, high-fiving Zach when Zach reaches out on his tip-toes and offers his a hand.
Stiles stops kissing Derek only long enough so they can make a face at Zach.
Laura takes a picture.
It ends up being Stiles' favorite.
He frames it and puts it up in their living room, right above the mantle.
Derek smiles softly at it every time he comes home after work.
They go to Rio for their honeymoon four months after they get married, in December at Cora's recommendation, so they can enjoy going to the beach and all that the Brazilian summer has to offer.
They don't get out of their hotel room for four straight days.
Andwhen they do, Derek manages to get them free dessert at the restaurant they're having dinner at.
Stiles gets sunburned.
They fly back home right after Christmas and bring back souvenirs to everyone.
Stiles doesn't think he's ever been happier.
And later, when they're back in their own bed, as he stares at Derek's pale ass and traces the tan line on his husband's hip with his fingers, Derek catching his hand and smiling when their wedding bands clink together, he knows Derek feels the same way.