Chapter Text
The California heat was dry, nothing like the sticky air of Florida. Derek stood enjoying the midday sun as he waited for Isaac to arrive. He leaned against his car as he watched the chaos of the airport in front of him. Across the walkway, a flustered father was running after his two toddlers, a pair of young lovers was pouring over a map of Miami, and an elderly woman was loudly telling off the taxi driver who had attempted to help her into the car. Derek smiled absentmindedly, checking his phone again for any new texts from Isaac. Nothing yet.
While he watched and waited, he pulled the die from his pocket and fiddled around with it, a bad habit he had picked up in the past few weeks. As he flipped it between his fingers, Derek glanced at the storm drain to his right.
I should chuck this dice into the drain. He thought. And he seriously considered it for a moment. But only a moment. Instead, he just shoved it back into his pocket. Derek was weak. Embarrassingly so. He could hardly stop the memories flooding in of the moment he first found it.
“I’m sorry, I think you dropped this.” Derek picked up the dice from the bar ground and held it out in his hand. The small brunette on the bar seat turned to face him, his head cocking. Oh, god, he was even cuter up close.
“A die?” The brunette asked.
“Yeah, it was under your seat, so...” Derek trailed off.
The brunette huffed out a laugh. “It’s a dirty dice on the ground in the middle of a bar. Obviously, it’s just trash.”
Accent?
Derek shrugged. “Alright, I was just trying to be chivalrous.”
“Mhm. How many minutes did it take for you to work up the courage to come pull that little stunt.” His tone was playful, and his fingers came up to mess with his thick hair, which had fallen a bit into his eyes. Derek found himself transfixed on the thin fingers running through the strands. Oh god, he was screwed.
“About 30 seconds. I’m nothing if not blindingly confident.” Derek flashed a smile. The other man rolled his eyes, but he returned a small smile of his own.
“So, can I sit?” Derek gestured to the seat next to him. The man paused for a moment, seeming to seriously consider.
“How about this.” He finally said. “You roll that stupid die. If it’s even, you stay; if it’s odd, you go.”
“You’re on.”
Derek shook the die dramatically, kissed his hands for luck, sent up a prayer to every god in existence, and rolled it across the wooden counter.
Four.
Derek whooped loudly, throwing his hands into the air in triumph. Even with the noise in the bar, it was still loud enough to draw the attention of a few of the people around him.
“Shut up you dick, oh my god.” The small brunette yanked him into the seat next to him, laughing softly.
“Dick? That’s a bit harsh.”
“Well what should I call you?”
“Derek.”
“Hmm, you choose that yourself as another stupid pick up line?”
“Something like that.”
The boy nodded. Without Derek prompting anything, he spoke. “I’m Stiles.”
*****
Derek laughed as he caught a glimpse of Isaac through the window of the arrivals deck, his excited hand waving from the inside. He was lugging two massive, tattered suitcases behind him, and practically tripping over them as he ran across the street to Derek.
“Took you long enough,” Derek said as he helped the younger man throw the luggage into his trunk.
“Hello to you, too, dickhead.” They were both smiling ear to ear as they turned to clap each other on the back.
“Missed you, man,” Derek said.
“Don’t go crying on me now, Der-bear. It’s only been a month.”
The black haired man murmured a quick ‘shut up’, before slamming the trunk. They buckled in, Isaac complaining about the heat and fighting Derek for the aux.
“Your taste is shit, man, you know it.” Isaac said.
“It is not!” Derek exclaimed. But Isaac’s comment was close enough to spark more memories, and they rushed in, unbidden.
“You have terrible taste,” Stiles murmured, scrolling through Derek’s phone. It had been hours, hours, and they were still sitting at this stupid little bar, nursing their drinks. It was dark and dingy and annoying loud for being 4 in the afternoon, and Derek was having more fun than he had in ages.
“I’m not gonna let you look at my Spotify if you’re just going to talk shit the whole time,” Derek said, and even he could hear the fondness in his voice. Yikes, he was going to need to rein that in a bit. He didn't want to seem like an obsessive idiot.
“Hmm,” Stiles said, still scrolling. Derek was glad for a moment of silence to just stare at the boy. He was handsome in such a soft way, his brown hair shaking every time he laughed, a sound Derek was trying to commit to memory. In their time talking they had spoken a lot about their childhoods: Derek’s in San Diego and Stiles’ in Poland. They swapped favorite TV shows, favorite games, favorite sports. “Ugh, football,” Stiles had rolled his eyes. Derek had tried to get some info out of why Stiles was here, but every time he brought it up, Stiles deflected and turned the question on Derek instead. Derek thought that might be half the reason he was so enthralled by the boy; there was such a mystery about him.
“So, will you tell me now why you’re in San Diego?” Derek asked, cutting through the silence.
Stiles set down his phone and gave him a him a curious look. There was a slight hesitation before he answered. “Well, I live here.”
“What? But you said you’re from Poland?”
“It’s called dual citizenship, you imbecile.”
Derek barked out a laugh. He had begun to pick up on the way Stiles always had a quick retort on his tongue.
“Alright, well then how long have you lived in San Diego?”
The slightest hesitation again. “I don’t live in San Diego, I’m just here visiting while I have some vacation.” Stiles said.
“Well, where do you work?”
Stiles huffed. “Why are you so interested?”
Shit, was Derek being too pushy? His friends sometimes told him he could be nosey, always wanting to know every detail about a situation. They called it being a control freak. He called it curiosity. But Stiles still had a soft–if a little exasperated–smile on his face, so Derek supposed he wasn’t mad.
“You’re just interesting,” he said honestly. “I want to know more.”
“Hm, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you want to flirt with me.” Stiles said. And then they were both laughing again.
“C’mon Stiles, give me something.”
Stiles considered it for a moment before giving in. “Alright, fine. I came to San Diego so I could go to Seaworld.” He said it confidently, but Derek could see his cheeks tinge a bit red. It was ridiculously endearing. When Stiles saw Derek’s smile he started up again defensively, “And before you make fun of me I’m not like a psycho fan or anything, I just grew up watching the commercials and I thought it looked cool.”
Derek smiled wider. “Do you want to go now?”
“I- what?”
“Seaworld– it’s open for another couple hours. We should go.”
“You– don’t you have things to do?” Stiles look at him incredulously.
“Nope, cmon.”
Derek threw down a couple twenties for their drinks and grabbed Stiles by the wrist, pulling him up. Stiles followed, looking a bit bewildered. But as he climbed into the seat of Derek’s car, Derek could see him smiling nonetheless.
“Well I’m picking music.” Stiles said in that snappy tone Derek was starting to like. And then they were off.
******
“Dude, are you even listening to me?” Isaac’s voice pulled him out of the memory.
“What?”
Isaac groaned. “What is wrong with you? I’ve been talking for like five minutes.”
“Nothing– sorry, just zoned out. I’m listening now.”
Isaac eyed him but Derek kept his gaze on the highway in front of him.
“Anyways,” Isaac said, “Have you been worried at all about the assignment?”
Ahh, they had avoided it until now. Even when Derek FaceTimed Isaac while they both were visiting home, they hadn’t mentioned the deadline coming up. Derek felt like a lot of the past month had been spent avoiding thinking about it. It wasn’t nervousness, per say. Whenever he thought about their destination an excitement thrummed through his veins. He was ready for it; ready to prove himself, ready for more. It just all felt so surreal. Until they got on the base, Derek figured he wouldn’t be able to fully believe it.
“I haven’t really thought of it much.” Derek said honestly. “You?”
“A little but–well, I mean mom kept bugging me for details so it was kind of hard to forget. You know how it is.”
Yes, yes he did.
“It’ll be good.” Derek said. If not for Isaac, then for himself.
“I hope so.” Isaac said, switching the song and then settling back into the seat. “What’s that thing you keep holding?”
Shit. When did it even get back in his hand? Derek thought he had stowed it deep in his pocket.
“Oh, it’s just a dice I found. I was just messing with it.”
“Let me see it,” Isaac grabbed for it and Derek felt a protective wave rush through him.
“No, it’s mine.” He pulled it away.
“Dude, what? C’mon.” Isaac grabbed again, and Derek pulled his arm across his body.
“Get your own. You’re going to make us crash.” Derek said and Isaac huffed.
“Why can’t I see it?” Isaac whined. “Is it special?”
*********
They were at at a table under an umbrella taking a quick break. Luckily in the middle of the week there weren’t too many visitors at the park. Not that Derek would have noticed them, anyways. He was too enamored. Stiles had lit up since they got to the park, running around with the excitement of a child, pulling Derek into every shop to try some of everything. Derek watched Stiles point excitedly at some dragon and found himself suddenly struck: have I really only know this man for half a day? I feel like I’ve known him for years.
It wasn’t anything like love, of course, not yet. But there was a familiarity to being with Stiles. Something tinged with fun and nostalgia and warmth. Though the warmth could have also been the late summer heat.
“Why is it so disgustingly hot here?” Stiles complained as they drank their soda.
“Sorry, that’s my fault, I’ll leave.”
Stiles rolled his eyes with a small smile and Derek found himself delighted at the simple reaction. “You’re so stupid, you know that?” Stiles said.
“But you like hanging out with me, so what does that make you?” Derek knew it was a weak and cheesy set up, but he really wanted to hear Stiles confirm it, that he liked being with Derek. Stiles, who Derek was starting to realize avoided serious emotions and conversations like the plague, just hummed. He pointed at Derek’s hand. “Why do you still have that?”
The dice rolled between Derek’s thumb and pointer finger. “I don’t know. It was just in my pocket.”
“Let me see it.”
Derek handed it over without thinking. Stiles continued. “Okay, say a number 1-6 out loud and if I roll that number you have to tell me a secret.”
“Six.”
Stiles rolled a 2. He groaned angrily. “Wait, let me do it again.”
“Nope! My turn, you lost,” Derek lunged for it. Stiles dodged away, yelling about getting a second chance. Derek eventually caught his wrist and pulled it to him, wrestling the die away between peals bright laughter.
Derek rolled, no match. They went back and forth a few times, Stiles sneaking in extra tries, until finally Stiles’ “three” matched the dice.
“Ha! Now you have to tell me a secret!” Derek shouted excitedly. Stiles groaned.
“That’s not fair.”
“That’s like the definition of fair. C’mon give me something.”
Stiles thought for a moment before growing serious. Derek could see his discomfort, watched the way his eyes shifted to look around them, avoiding Derek’s gaze as he said, “My secret is: this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
Derek was so thrilled by the admission he easily offered up his own response. “Me too. I feel like I’ve already known you forever.”
Stiles nodded, but grew quiet then, and Derek watched something like sadness flit through his face. He still looked angelic, but there was a tragedy to it, a tragedy Derek so desperately wanted to salve.
“C’mon let’s go on that last ride.” Derek said, trying to pull him back out of wherever he had just gone in his brain.
Stiles just nodded again, and he grabbed Derek’s hand when they got up. He held it tightly and didn’t let go.
********
“I met a boy, Isaac.” Derek suddenly blurted out.
“What? When? At home?”
“Yes, like a few weeks ago. And I-“ Can’t get him out of my head? Have dreams about him? Have an unhealthy obsession with him maybe? Derek just let the sentence trail.
“Let’s gooooo!!!” Isaac slapped him on the shoulder. “Give me the details!”
Derek half heartedly laughed at his friend’s enthusiasm. Before he remembered. “It’s– nothing really came of it. I met him at a bar and we really hit it off and we had the best day.” Derek sighed. “I mean it was such a good day and he was just, he was perfect. I think you would have loved him. He just fit right in.“
“So what happened?”
“He–” Derek grit his teeth. Instant flashes back to the bar where they started. The bar they had ended the night at, where they had drank a bit more and gotten too close together on the dance floor. Derek was tipsy enough to forget his inability to dance. He just wanted Stiles to be closer, as close as he could be. Soon enough, Derek was on fire. Stiles was everywhere, pressed against him, looking at his lips like some sort of lifeline. He needed to kiss him. Needed it like breathing. Closer, closer. Derek let himself fall and close the gap between them.
It was like electricity coursing through his veins, like a hurricane set off in his chest, his heart pounding like a ocean swell. Derek felt Stiles smile against his lips and he had the thought that this was like some sort of miracle. This is the stuff religions are made on. He deepened the kiss until soon he was pushing Stiles up against the back wall in the shadowed corner, the latter gripping tightly at his shirt, gasping softly as Derek bit his way down his neck. He let himself get lost in the brunette. Falling further and further until–
Until.
Until Derek took a quick trip to the bathroom. Until he stopped by the bar afterwards to get a new drink. Until the bartender handed him a crumpled receipt. “Your boyfriend told me to give this to you.” The bartender said, shoving the small piece of paper into Derek’s hands quickly before turning back to a new customer. Boyfriend? Derek looked at the random receipt to find Stiles’ messy scrawl all over the back.
I’m sorry to leave like this, but things are complicated right now. Thanks for the best day. I wish more than anything we could have tomorrow, too. x S
“He ditched me at the bar later that night,” Derek finally got out. “Left me a stupid note saying ‘things were complicated’. Such bullshit. I never even got his number.” Derek hoped the anger in his voice masked the acute sadness he still felt about the whole thing.
“That sucks, Derek, I’m sorry.” Isaac said.
“It’s fine, it’s not like anything could have happened, right? I mean, we’re here.” Derek said.
Here. As if it knew it was being called to, the distant sound of an engine started up. Derek let the familiar hum soothe him.
-
Derek was nervous. He could admit it to himself, but he refused to let it show on his face where others might see. He was ready, he deserved to be here, and he was going to show everyone that he was the best damn pilot these walls had ever seen. Nerves or not, he had something to prove.
After he and Isaac finally made it to the North Island the day before, they had just been killing time until this moment. They settled into their barracks, got some food, and had a few restless hours of sleep. But now they were here; everything was beginning.
None of the other pilots around him looked even remotely scared. Well, and why should they? They were all the best of the best.
You are, too. Derek’s voice told him again. Yes, yes. He belonged here. He was going to shine. To show everyone here that he earned this spot.
“Welcome to Top Gun,” a voice suddenly appeared at the front of the room. Derek hadn’t even seen the man come in. He was skinny and tall, and vaguely familiar.
“I’m Darrell, call sign ‘Condor.” I’ll be your captain for your assignment here.” Condor eyed the room, letting his gaze fall on each of the lined up pilots. Unlike most of Derek’s previous captains, Condor did not seem to look down on them. His gaze was almost one of kindness; he even offered a smile to a recruit in the front. “I’m looking forward to having the privilege of working with you. You’re here because you’ve been told you’re the best. Now it’s time to prove it.”
Derek felt adrenaline rush through his body at the words. His chest puffed out and he held his head high. He was the best. And he was ready to prove it.
Before Condor could continue, a door slammed open on the far side of the room. Derek couldn’t see who appeared, but he watched Condor’s face light up. “And this, recruits, will be your other Captain. He’s the team leader of the mission you will be going on, so we will help train you together.”
The man had made it to the front. “Sorry I’m late, Condor.” The voice said. It was familiar.
Derek’s blood turned to ice. It can’t be.
“I’m Stiles. Call sign Red. Call me Captain. Looking forward to working with you.”
His tone wasn’t mean, but it was clipped, short. It was the opposite of Condor’s smiling open presence. But Derek wasn’t worried about his tone. He wasn’t even worried about the mission anymore. Because standing at the front of the room was Stiles, his Stiles. And suddenly worlds had collided.
Oh my god.