Something between You and Me

Chapter 1

It was supposed to be an ordinary Saturday morning. The sun was up, and the clear sky held hope of a rainless day, in the otherwise rainy city of Bath, England. Children were running around and playing tag, one child even sprinting about with his red and obscurely green looking kite, as Derek walked into the opening of the park, blue scarf twirled around his neck way too many times due to his sister's scoffing of "Don't be a baby, brother dearest, it's just a scarf. You'll freeze to death otherwise!" It was barely November. And around 7 degrees out.

Yeah, Derek was totally getting babied by his big sister.

As he rounded the corner of the end of the park, walked past an old couple pushing some children - probably their grandchildren - on a couple of swings, and crossed the busy morning traffic over to his favorite café, Beta's, he couldn't help but to feel like something was different about this brand new day, like it was just right. When he opened the door to the café a bell chimed, signalizing that there was a new costumer.

The café didn't look any different. The walls were still painted in different nuances of brown, grey and green, and there were still rough tables made of dark wood, chairs and couches with way to many pillows on them. The whole cafe was still lit up by little sparkle lights that hung on the otherwise dark roof like the branches of an Amazon forest, lighting up the whole room.

Behind the counter where people placed their orders there was an image of a wolf pack painted onto the old wooden wall.

There were four wolves in the painting, the owners had insisted on that.

One had very light brown fur with a hint of red, laying on a abandoned forest ground with distant blue, nearly grey eyes focused on the full moon on the sky above him, wondering, searching for something. Only Isaac knew what that something was.

The second wolf had dark brown colored fur and eyes almost alike in color as in fur, and it's head was resting on top of the first wolf's muzzle with a content look. Halfway on top of the second wolf was the fourth, and her fur was the complete opposite as her mate's, almost white with hints of weak yellow and dark orange. Her eyes though, held almost the same color as her mate's; a dark maroon that seemed to brightly shine as she laid half spread on top of him, nose resting in the crook of her mate's neck. Derek had thought it was a beautiful portrait of Boyd and Erica's relationship.

The fourth and last wolf in the painting, not everyone could place. Anyone who really looked could easily recognize the other three wolves as the three owners of the café, Isaac, Boyd and Erica, their bright personalities reflected in the painting. But the last one, the last one was different.

He stood proud as a leader, a protector of the other wolves, almost black fur reflected in the moonlight and bright green eyes shining with a small ring of amber right before the irises, looking over his pack. But the wolf looked lonely, still.

Derek shook his head. He didn't know why the others had insisted that he'd paint himself into their painting as well; after all he wasn't a co-owner of Beta's, simply a friend. "You're one of our closest friends, Derek, of course we want you there up with us!" Isaac had answered one time when Derek had voiced his thought.

"And besides," Erica had chimed later when Derek had painted himself into the picture as their guardian and they were all sitting on the floor cuddled together like the wolves on the picture, and just staring at the finished work, "you insisted on painting this beautiful picture that took months, months Derek, off your time to make, for free. Even though you could have spent all that time working on pieces to sell in order to make money for yourself. It was the least we could do."

Boyd had given a soft sigh in agreement. "And you're family, Derek. Family sticks together," he gestured to the painting, "like a pack." None of the others said anything after that, they just sat in piece, with each other for company and looked around at their new café, and at their lives beginning to make sense again.

Derek spared the painting, his painting, another fond glance before making his way properly into the café, giving a quick smile and a wave to the people he recognized. The weather was gloomy outside, but inside the Beta's it was warm and cozy with just the right amount of people, and soft smells of coffee and freshly baked goods stirring in the air. Home, he thought with a small smile.

He stood in queue for the disk, only a few people before him in the line, and started on the huge task that was taking off his ridiculously well twirled scarf that his sister had put on him this morning. Laura had to get kudos on that, she was an incredible wicked scarf twirler.

Derek hadn't even remembered that they were having breakfast together at his apartment that day, opening the door at seven in the morning in only his boxers and a look that said he would kill whomever that had disturbed his beauty sleep. Or at least, that was how Laura had described it, much to Derek's very manly protests. So they cooked and ate together, or well, Derek tried to cook but he burned the toast and may have started a tiny fire in his kitchen, but it was only tiny! (Which was an improvement from the Hale's Christmas 2010, when their mother had forced Derek to help out in the kitchen. Yeah that was a disaster, but they don't like to mention it.) So after Derek's tiny accident, Laura took over, who was the more skilled cook in his family, like his mother and his eldest brother, Michael.

So, Derek wasn't so skilled in the art of cooking to put it lightly, but his hands had quite the touch when it came to painting, drawing and sculpting. His family and friends had called him an art prodigy as a child, after he came home from first grade one day where they were supposed to draw something that made them happy, and his parents saw what he had drawn.

Most of the other children had drawn shaky but simple pictures of butterflies, suns and smiley faces in bright colors, but he had drawn a wolf in such detail and nuances of grey, standing proudly on a cliff, overlooking the ocean like it was searching for something. Or someone.

At first his kindergarten teacher had thought that her coworkers were playing a game on her, putting such an art piece into the hands of a seven year old to prank her, but when she tried to take the art piece away from Derek he had screamed and cried and demanded his drawing back in a way only a child could. She'd called her coworkers over to her, and they were just as surprised as she was when they asked if Derek could draw them another pretty picture, and they got a detailed sketch of a lily back, and a huge smile from kid Derek. So from an early age he and his sketch book were inseparable, and all it took was a piece of paper, a pencil and a small rubber to make Derek happy through his childhood.

Now as an adult Derek had several paintings on exhibitions in museums all over the world, and he had sold enough of his work that he probably didn't need to work again for the rest of his life, but he still wanted to because it was his one passion in his life.

"Derek, helluuuuu. Derek, are you there, mate?"

A voice brought Derek back from his thoughts, and he realized that the queue before him had disappeared, and Isaac stood by the disk, waiting for him with a fond gaze.

He shook his head. "Sorry man, I was a bit out of it." Derek walked over to the disk and gave Isaac a bro fist and a grinning smile. He looked around the half-busy café and at the waitresses working there, looking for two particular known faces. "Where's the newlyweds?" Derek asked.

Erica and Boyd's engagement and later marriage hadn't come as a surprise for anyone. They had been head over heels for each other since they were in High School, almost non-separable for seven years before Boyd took the big step and went down on one knee right in the middle of their café on the day of their anniversary, asking Erica for her hand in marriage.

"It was about time," Erica had teased Boyd, "I was beginning to worry that you'd never ask."

"I would have married you after our first date, babe, but I needed to reassure that I could support you in the way you deserve." There had been a moment between them where they gave each other a fond smile, hugging each other long. Derek had almost felt the need to look away from the personal moment to give them some privacy, and when Boyd and Erica started making out like a couple of wild animals, he did turn away because come on, get a room! But his couldn't help his completely soppy grin as Boyd put a golden ring on Erica's finger that day, feeling happy for his friends.

Isaac gave him a smile and adjusted the apron hanging around his front, with the letter's "KISS THE COOK" painted in bright green colors on the otherwise blue cloth. Derek was very fond of that one. "Oh, they're at the hospital getting an ultrasound. They're hoping that Erica has come long enough on her way that the can see the baby for the first time. Boyd is completely terrified," Isaac finished with a laugh.

"Yeah, I can imagine," Derek laughed. If he was going to have a baby with the fierceful, but loving (though if he mentioned that to Erica she would most likely strangle him in his sleep) Erica he would be terrified too. "Being a father will do that to you, I guess."

Someone made a small "ahem!" behind them, and he could see the people behind him in the line waiting to get their morning dose of caffeine and some breakfast. He hurried along. "Anyway, remind them to send me a picture, yeah?"

"Of course, mate. Now, what can I get you today? The usual?"

Derek shook his head. "Naah, I'm feeling a bit different today, so I'll think I'll take something else. Do you still sell that delicious Peacon pie of yours?"

Isaac nodded and gave him a cheeky grin, "It's the best one in town."

"Yeah, I'll have two slices of that, a croissant and a cup of hot chocolate with cream, please." Isaac scribbled away on his notepad.

"Yeah, yeah that's cool. I'll just bring your food over to your usual spot when it's done."

"Actually," Derek interrupted, "I think I'll eat outside today."

Isaac crooked an eyebrow at that? "Really? You don't usually eat outside, man. You all right?"

Derek gave him a small smile. "Yeah, just feeling like a change today", he repeated. "I've been having an artist block all week, I don't know what it is, but..." He paused. "But I think it'll help to be outside today." He shook his head thoughtfully. "Just this feeling," he told Isaac and shrugged.

"Sure man, coming right up. But let me check the weather reports first, all right? Don't want your drawings to be soaked with rain outside. I think the weather is good enough that you can sit on the benches left to the entrance." Isaac took out his phone from the back pocket of his phone and made a few swaps with his fingers on the touch screen, bringing up the weather reports for the week. He hummed thoughtfully. "There hasn't been reported any rain lately, so I think you're in the clear man. And there sure isn't going to snow any time soon," he huffed out a laugh, putting his phone back into his back pocket.

Derek laughed with him, starting on the huge job that was to twirl his scarf around his neck once again. Yeah right, like it was going to snow, Derek thought. It hadn't snowed in Bath in almost ten years now, why would it start now?

"The food will be ready in five."

Derek nodded to Isaac and grabbed a thick blanket from one of the chairs on the way out. He had a feeling that he was going to need it.

xxxxxxxxxx

Stiles was so screwed.

Not the kind of screwed that leaved him glowingly boneless and out of breath with slick release spattered across his stomach or deep inside another man. No, not in that sense at all. Though that way would be much preferable to Stiles at that moment.

The way he was screwed had a much more bitter afterglow.

He was in fact so screwed that he had retorted to drastic measures.

He was running.

(Or well, jogging, really, because it was nine o'clock in the morning, he hadn't even had his morning coffee, and even though he wasn't physically in bad shape by anyone's standards it was still NINE O'CLOCK IN THE FREAKING MORNING and he really did not have the energy to do anything productive at that time of day, least not run away from the crime scene like the big pussy he was.)

"God dammit why did it have to be today," he grumbled breathlessly to himself, making the way through a crowd of people, and away from the couple behind him he knew had seen him flee.

His blue knitted winter hat that he'd gotten from his grandma for his birthday a few years back was starting to slide slowly off his head, a tickling feeling that shuddered down Stiles back, so he hastily took it off and shoved it in the pocket of his grey winter coat with a grunt.

It wasn't like Stiles hadn't expected to see Danny again. Neither of them lived in such a big part of town, and they couldn't avoid each other forever, though Stiles sorely tried.

So it was only expected that they might run into each other one day, and Stiles had daydreamed that when that day came he would have a hot boyfriend by his side to introduce to Danny while they had their awkward x-boyfriend first meeting conversation that was bound to happen. And then Danny would realize what a big dick he was for breaking up with Stiles in the first place and beg to get him back, but Stiles wouldn't take him back because he had a much hotter and much better boyfriend than Danny ever was, and Danny would have to live with that regret for his entire life.

But of course that was only another one of Stiles many daydreams that was never going to happen with his luck in life. So when Stiles saw Danny in front of his favorite news stand for the first time since their break-up, holding hands with a man that seemed to be his boyfriend if the way they were flirting with each other was anything to go by, Stiles freaked and ran. But Danny saw him.

So that was why he was slightly jogging (don't judge the man, he still hadn't gotten that coffee yet) straight through a choir that was singing Christmas carols, wincing and shouting behind him "Sorry!" as one nun started falling on top of the other like some weird domino pieces. If he hadn't been running (slightly jogging) he would probably have found the entire picture hilarious, a dozen of nuns laying on top of each other in the middle of the street, their hymn books scattered around them. Ok, scratch that, he still found it hilarious even if he was on the run.

Stiles looked over his shoulder and could spot Danny and his boyfriend helping the scattered nuns to stand.

Stiles rolled his eyes. Of courseDanny would help the poor nuns.

He stopped as the crowd parted and took a look around him for an emergency exit. Stiles was in an open market square with stone tiles and a big grey fountain in the center, shops of every kind placed around the edges of the market square creating a cozy look. There were always shops he could hide in, but chances were that Danny would walk in with the luck Stiles had been having that day, so he decided against it. Then there was only one option left.

Stiles had to find a boyfriend.

And that fast.

There were a few people sitting on benches placed around the open area, but most of them were either really old and together with their grandchildren, or couples sitting together and looking disgustingly in love. Stiles sighed. None of them would do for him, so he kept looking. Lots of cafés were open but almost no one was sitting outside, and why would they? The weather was freaking freezing. He couldn't really walk into a café and find someone either, no, it had to be public, on display. He turned around and was about to find the nearest shovel so that he could dig his own grave to hide from the humiliation, when he saw him.

Stiles' head felt like it had just experienced a whiplash as he stared at the beautiful man sitting outside in the cold with outdoor clothes and a blanket thrown over his legs, a scarf twirled around his neck way too many times. In his lap he had a huge book with clear paper - probably a sketch book, Stiles guessed - and some pencils lying on the table in front of him.

Perfect, Stiles thought. He's absolutely perfect.

Stiles ran over to the man sitting by the entrance of a café named Beta's, and stood there awkwardly until the man noticed him, Stiles' cheeks flushing from the running and at the complete absurdity of the situation.

The man looked Stiles over once before finding his eyes and asking in a polite tone, "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, you can. Are you single?" Stiles hurried by saying, staring at the stranger.

The man put down his sketchbook at the bench he was sitting on and raised his eyebrows at Stiles. "Excuse me?"

"I said are you single? Yes no?"

The man was clearly surprised over such an abrupt question from a complete stranger, but he gathered himself enough to say, "Yes I am."

Stiles exhaled slowly in relief. "Are you gay?"

The man stood up now, staring annoyed at Stiles.

"Did Isaac put you up to this?" The man sighed and touched his jaw, forehead scorching. "I've told him countless of times, if I want to get laid, I'll get laid myself, I don't need his fucking help."

Stiles gave the handsome man another once-over and grinned. "Yeah, I don't doubt that at all, handsome. I just need to know if you're gay."

Handsome (which was what Stiles was calling the stranger in his mind, because hot damn) gave Stiles another stare. "Yes," he said begrudgingly and with a frown that did so not fit well with the rest of the man's outrageously hot body.

"Oh thank god." Stiles smiled, relieved, and stepped forward so that he was just inches apart from the man. His eyes trailed down to the stranger's lips, gaze fixated. "I'm going to kiss you now, Handsome, and I would prefer it if you didn't hit my pretty face for doing so."

Any protests the man had was muffled by Stiles' lips on his.

Around them it started snowing for the first time in 10 years.

TBC

This story can also be found on my livejournal, or on my AO3 account (links on my profile because ff won't allow us to post links in textposts).