Stiles gets his license at the end of the summer, only a few weeks short from the anniversary of his move to New York.
There’s a mountain outside the city with the perfect view to watch the sunset. They’ve been there several times before on Derek’s Harley and it quickly became Stiles’ favorite spot. Back when they first started the driving lessons they had made a promise: that once he got his license, Stiles would come pick Derek up at the shop and they’d drive up there.
It’s late afternoon by the time Derek picks up the sound of Stiles’ engine: lighter and faster than his own. He looks over his shoulder from where he’s kneeling next to the Yamaha he’s working on, gazing out towards the street until the bike rolls into view when Stiles parks it on the drive in. He leaves the engine running as he jumps off, practically tearing off the helmet before rushing inside the garage with a blinding smile.
"I did it!" He exclaims, as if anything about his arrival hints otherwise.