His least favorite colour was green.
Even pink, he could stand.
It had absolutely nothing to do with his mothers eyes. How every time he saw the colour green it flashed to the last night he saw her. The last time she tucked him in. The last time she pressed a kiss the his tangled hair.
The last time she told him she loved him.
It was probably about how green reminded him of rotting things. And puke. And moss covered grave stones.
But here everything was green. Everything was moss covered. Everything was rolling hills and swaying meadows.
Well. The meadows didn't sway, the grass did.
That wasn't the point.
It was green, and Derek hated the colour green.
"Derek, can't you at least pretend you're enjoying yourself."
Lydia had been watching him over her book. It was some thick tome about electromagnetism or something.
Derek didn't care.
"No then." Lydia sighed and marked the page she was on before shutting the book and laying it to the side daintily. "Look. If Stiles going on a date tonight is what's got you down the-"
"Stiles is what." Derek's head snapped up, his eyes flashing.
Lydia poorly hid a smirk. "Oh, didn't you know..?"
Derek wasn't sure when he had stood up from the bed.
Lydia cleared her throat. "Listen. Derek. It was very sweet of Jackson's parents to let him take all the money he wanted and give him permission to fly us all to Ireland as a graduation gift. So please don't ruin it by slaughtering the villagers. Okay?"
"Stiles has a date?" Derek repeats. He has gotten used to ignoring Lydia.
"Obviously. He hasn't figured out your huge gay love-slash-boner for him yet, and he wants to get laid. Really, really, badly."
Derek stormed out of the hotel room and marched down the hall. He ignored the blushing faces of Allison and Scott as he walked past them sucking face in an alcove and waited by the elevator doors impatiently.
He tapped his foot and waited for the doors to open.
When they did he came nose to nose with the face he was looking for.
He grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into the elevator, pinning him there. "Don't go on the date tonight." He growls out, low an ferocious.
Stiles has just enough time to look confused before Derek throws all caution to the wind (because Stiles was eighteen now, damn it. It wasn't illegal anymore.) and kissed him.
He surprised himself when he kissed Stiles slowly, cupping his jaw in his hand.
Heat ignited inside of him when Stiles kissed back.
At that point he may have gotten a little rougher.
Then the elevator dinged and they jumped apart, faces red and lips swollen they scuttled out of the elevator. Although it was the fourth floor and of absolutely no use to them.
"Derek…" Stiles cleared his throat. "Derek." He tried again. "I don't know who told you I had a date tonight… But I really don't. Unless it's with you."
Green was also the colour of the sweater Lydia had been wearing.