Lydia has always been orange, fiery, eye-catching, the perfect mix of bold and bright. Even if she doesn’t think orange and blue go together (which they totally do, seriously, has she never played portal?) she always screamed orange to Stiles.
It doesn’t click for Stiles that maybe he isn’t blue until Jackson yanks his hood over his head and shoves him into a locker with a snide “move it, little red”. He can work with red. Energy, passion, determination, all very Stiles.
Somehow that helps, knowing that he and Lydia aren’t complementary, but analogous. Which makes sense because in a freaky way they’re a lot alike, smart, guarded, borderline pathological liars.
Stiles wonders if he hadn’t been so busy trying woo her, if they could have been friends. Maybe they still could be.
The complement to red is green, which Stiles is totally down with, because how awesome is Christmas? Stiles just needs to find his green so they can get with the merry making.
He starts to think of people in colors. Scott is yellow, cheerful, stimulating, and more often than not a sign of approaching danger. Of course Allison is his complement with all the ambition, nobility and passion of purple. Stiles smiles at the thought of them being the colors of the Lakers and wonders if he could get them to name their inevitable firstborn Kobe.
Stiles thinks Derek is black, what with the power, mystery and, you know, death. He’s got a definite “dark lord” vibe going for him, even if he wasn’t forcing the pack to get creepy matching tattoos.
He catches Derek one day, right after a run, bounding from out of the forest, eyes bright and chest heaving. He gives off this infectious aura of calm. It’s like he’s made for the forest, or maybe it was made for him.
Stiles remembers reading somewhere that green is the most restful color for the human eye to look at.
It symbolizes endurance, growth and, hope. Stiles is surprised when he realizes he wants Derek to be green, wants him to have that sense of safety and healing. He wants to complement Derek, Stiles wants to make him feel like Christmas every day.
He does what he can, finds way to peel back all of Derek’s layers until he gets to the heart of him. It’s slow going but Derek starts to blossom for Stiles and the more he reveals about himself the more Stiles wants to know.
They work well together, Stiles’ knowledge and Derek’s instincts filling in gaps the other misses. Derek’s also the only person Stiles has ever met who’s able to go blow for sarcastic blow with him. They fit together like the brightly colored puzzle piece mats Stiles used to love in preschool, like they don’t need anything more to be complete but the could add on a few more pieces if they want to, maybe a purple and a yellow, keep going until they have the whole rainbow.
And when Derek pushes him up against a tree, kissing him slow and sweet and Stiles fists his hands into the hem of Derek’s shirt, holding on for dear life, it feels like Christmas morning.