Sterek(oneshots)

Promise

"No please, you have to understand, I can't be delayed." Derek gripped the edge of the receptionists desk so hard his knuckles turned white.

"I'm sorry, sir, but all flights are delayed until the weather clears up," The blond behind the desk said, not looking up from her computer.

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"You're welcome to wait in our lounge area, or if you'd rather, there's a hotel about a mile down the road." She gestured to the small room where an older man was splayed out on a pleather recliner.

"I don't suppose you'd be paying for the hotel," Derek clenched his jaw as the man snored out loudly. He sounded like a feral bear.

The blond finally looked up with a pinched smile. "Unfortunately we can't be held accountable for weather conditions and as such your accommodations aren't covered. But you're welcome to take advantage of our lounge area." She once again gestured to the snoring man.

Derek rolled his eyes as he turned away from the desk.

"Typical, huh?" A brunette man, sitting in a nearby seat, asked.

Derek scoffed. "Yeah." He started towards the sleeping man.

"I'd maybe skip staying in there, he's also gassy." The brunette offered.

Derek's shoulders fell. "Great. And I have to tell my sisters I'll be late to Christmas."

"I know the feeling. I had to tell my dad."

Derek took a seat across from the brunette man. "Instead we get to spend Christmas eve with strangers in an airport."

"Stiles," the man stuck his hand out.

"Derek."

"At least it's not crowded. Perks of a late night flight." Stiles gestured to the barren airport.

"Is anything still open?" Derek asked, glancing around for a bar.

"A few places. Care to wander?" Stiles asked.

Derek was about to politely decline, but the last week with Erica gave him pause. He had promised her he would be better. Better about coming around. Better about not shutting everyone out. He was stuck in this airport for the foreseeable future, he might as well make the most of it.

"Why not?" Derek huffed setting his bag down on the chair.

Stiles set his bag and pillow next to Derek's stuff.

"There was a restaurant down that way that was open a little while ago, if you're hungry."

Derek gestured for Stiles to lead the way.

After being seated with two Reuben sandwiches in front of them, Stiles asked, "So where you headed?"

"California." Derek answered around a bite of food.

"No kidding, same here. Beacon Hills, you know it?" Stiles asked.

Derek raised a brow. "I do actually. I grew up there."

"Whoa, seriously? Same."

Derek narrowed his eyes. What were the chances that two people in a New York airport where going to the same small town in California?

"What are you doing in New York?" he asked.

"Work. I work with the FBI. We get pulled all over sometimes. What about you?"

Derek had not pegged this guy as FBI. "Just visiting a friend. I lived here for a while before moving back home."

"What part?" Stiles pressed eagerly.