Stiles stared up at the seatbelt sign on the plane and wondered if it would turn off if he glared a bit harder. He tried it. It didn't work. He was trapped in airport terminal limbo while the ground crew fixed some issue to do with their gate, and Stiles just wanted to scream. He'd been on this damn plane for over eight hours. He wanted off.

Glancing down at his phone, he clicked the screen on and saw Derek staring up at him from the background image. The last time they'd spoken, it hadn't ended well. While Derek was smiling in the background image, he'd been shouting when Stiles left. Frowning, he slid the phone into his pocket and hunkered down to wait. He'd already texted Melissa to let her know about the delay, and he had no new texts or calls or even emails to check. He was just going to have to wait and be bored.

Before his trip to France, Derek had been more than enough for Stiles. He was grouchy and moody in the morning and especially if Stiles deliberately went against his warnings in a fight with the monster of the week. But he was a chef in the kitchen, if Stiles bought the ingredients, and gentle when they curled together for bed, and he never shamed Stiles for being the only guy who needed ice packs and Tylenol to deal with the after effects of a fight.

He wasn't the only human, but he was the only one stupid enough to body slam a psychotic evil monkey.

Before his trip to Paris, they flip flipped who did dishes or laundry. They didn't officially live together, but they almost did. At his father's house, Stiles was sure his clothes were disappearing. Not only that, but his books kept vanishing too. He knew he had a lot of things at Derek's place – migrating with him one day or another, but there were things missing at Stiles' house that he knew he hadn't taken over. He'd asked his Dad, who had no idea where Stiles might have lost the items, and then Scott, who swore he couldn't smell any intruders to Stiles' room.

It was irritating but not disruptive or evil, so Stiles just kept an eye out while he did his college work and fought gorgons.

Before Stiles went to see Isaac, Derek seemed like a teenager in love. That meant the world to Stiles, who had worried endlessly in the beginning that Derek was too hurt from his past lovers to truly open up. Stiles had been afraid he'd accidentally forced Derek into a relationship, but the warmth in Derek's eyes when Stiles entered a room blew all of those doubts away.

At night, on a full moon, Derek would count Stiles' moles and touch them softly while controlling his inner wolf. The effect was surprisingly sedative, and it often lulled Stiles to sleep.

Things weren't perfect before Stiles' trip, of course. Derek sometimes took off into the woods for days at a time with no warning. Something to do with being an evolved wolf. He'd come back looking dirty but relaxed. Stiles was always on the verge of screaming, because there was never a sign of whether Derek was off on his spiritual shit or had been kidnapped. They argued about it almost once a month.

Stiles had a habit of agitating any and all supernaturals in town, and Derek often got onto him about it. Stiles was an emissary, not a cop and not an attack dog. That was the biggest issue Derek had of course. Stiles was putting too many risks into an already tragically fragile human life.

But they hadn't argued in several weeks prior to Derek's sudden anger the morning before Stiles' flight.

He remembered it like it had been that morning and not a week prior. The call had come in at nine am. Someone had to go to Paris. But not just anyone. Isaac had discovered a packless wolf. Hunters were on his tail, because they believed a wolf without a pack was the most dangerous kind. An alpha had to claim the stray before the hunters did, and an emissary had to be the negotiator. So Scott and Stiles booked the next flight to Paris to expand their overseas pack and save a life.

"You're joking, right?" Derek had asked as soon as the call ended. "You can't just go to Paris. What about school?"

"It's college. I'll miss one class. It'll be fine." Stiles wasted no time packing. "Besides, saving a life is more important than a grade."

"A last minute flight to Paris is going to be expensive," Derek argued. "How are you going to afford that?"

"Well I was going to see if you'd chip in, but I have just enough in my savings account if you don't."

Even a week later, he wasn't sure why Derek was so against the trip.

"You were saving that to visit Australia when you graduated." Derek followed him to the bathroom where he grabbed his toothbrush.

Stiles slammed the bathroom cabinet shut after grabbing his deodorant. "Okay, so I'll just have to put that off! What is your problem, man? We're talking about one of us! Someone is going to be killed if I don't go!"

"They're not one of us!" Derek's anger flared, but it didn't frighten Stiles as much as his quick abandonment of a fellow wolf.

After staring at his boyfriend in shock and disbelief for a full minute, Stiles managed to say, "I honestly can't believe you just said that. It's like I don't even know you."

The shell-shocked guilty look that took over Derek's face was good, but it didn't make up for the comment. They didn't talk for the rest of Stiles packing and conferring with Scott to get their flights to match. At the end of the phone call, Stiles asked Scott if he needed a ride.

"Wait. You're driving? Derek didn't offer to drop you off?" Scott asked.

"I didn't ask. Now do you need a lift or not?"

In the end, Ms. McCall offered to drive them both so they didn't have to pay for parking. When the compact car pulled up out front, Stiles hefted his suitcase to the door.

"Stiles," Derek began, sounding beaten, but Stiles was still upset and couldn't listen.

"Not now, Derek," he said. "I'll call you when I land."

But, of course, Stiles had forgotten that he didn't have an international phone, and neither did Scott. Isaac did, but Stiles didn't want to ask and have to explain why he needed to call his jerk boyfriend so badly. So Stiles hadn't spoken to Derek in a week and was desperate to hear his voice, even if he was still angry Stiles had left. It was too late to call when they touched down, but Stiles would go see him in person the next day. Face-to-Face was always better for apologies and tough conversations, and this would probably be both.

Finally, the plane docked and the seatbelt sign went dark. Stiles stood but couldn't disembark yet and it was so frustrating! Across the plane, Scott gave him a sympathetic look. Everything had worked out in Paris, but Stiles hadn't been able to resist explaining what was truly stressing him out, so now Scott knew the problem.

Eventually they were off the plane and through security and then on the shuttle tram to the arrival area and toward the luggage pick up. Ms. McCall was there at the arrival gate, and she almost cried when she saw them.

"Oh! You're back!" she exclaimed, embracing them both. "We were so worried!"

"We?" Scott asked, smiling. But Stiles already saw who "we" was. The moment he had stepped off the tram, he'd spotted Derek calmly talking to Melissa. Now Derek was just standing there, broody eyebrows drawn down in doubt.

Stiles stepped away to go to him and smiled slightly, also in doubt. "Hey, Sourwolf."

"I didn't mean what I said," Derek started. "I just didn't want you to go."

"Yeah. I got that impression," Stiles noted, but Derek was shaking his head.

"No. I had paid for a kayak rental that night and I had all these plans." He frowned and looked at the ground. "I panicked and didn't handle it well. I'm sorry."

Now Stiles just grinned, no doubt in sight. "Apology accepted. Now you gotta clue me in though. Kayaks? What kind of plans did I ruin?"

Embarrassment flooded Derek's face, but he didn't hesitate as he spoke. "I was planning to tell you that I love you."

"I already know that," Stiles pointed out. "I love you too."

"Yeah," and then relief tinted Derek's expression. "But I was going to tell you I loved all of you. The smooth, professional, loyal parts along with the rough edges, the distrusting suspicions, and the fool hardy, crazy single-mindedness that has you running into danger. All of me loves all of you."

A laugh bubbled out of Stiles. "Okay, slow down. This is starting to sound like a -" And his breath caught in his throat. It couldn't be. Could it?

"Yeah. And I had a great speech about you moving in – your father even started packing up some of your stuff when I told him – but now that I'm supposed to say it, I'm too nervous to remember the wording. I just remember how it ended." And Derek dropped down to his knee in front of Stiles and produced a white gold ring from his back pocket.

"Oh my God. Shut up," Stiles exclaimed, stunned and heart slamming into his rib cage.

After a small shake of his head, Derek said, "Will you move in officially and marry me?"

Stiles dropped his carry-on bag, it joining his jaw on the floor. People all around the terminal were whispering and giggling and holy shit! He flailed his arms wildly at Derek, trying to urge him back to his feet.

"Oh my God. Stand up. Oh my God." He was beat red. He just knew it.

"Is that a yes or a no?" Derek asked, a grin twitching up on his lips.

"It's a yes, obviously. Now get up. God, the kayak would have been so much better. Less people." Stiles was so red that his ears were burning. Derek laughed as he stood again and slipped the ring on Stiles' finger. Cheers broke out around them from those who had been watching – including Scott, who did not look surprised, the jerk – and Stiles only felt hotter. "You are so embarrassing."

"I love you," Derek said, smirking. "That's gotta excuse a few of my faults."

They kissed then and Stiles couldn't remember why he'd ever been nervous about seeing Derek again. He loved the embarrassing idiot – supposed faults and all.