Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had taken them weeks to track down the rouge omega, and they didn't find her until after she killed a few innocent civilians. Figures. Stiles slammed the door to his jeep, wielding his bat as Kira slashed at the werewolf’s legs with her katana. He sprinted towards the fight, ready to join in on the action and help his friends.

“Stiles!” he heard Derek scream as he leaped toward the rabid wolf.

It was the last thing he heard for a few hours. When he finally woke up, he was in Derek’s loft, lying on the couch as Derek… watched him. There was blood dried into the ripped shreds of his shirt, and his stomach had been neatly stitched up through the holes. Stiles surveyed the dark room, noting that no one else seemed to be around, but when his eyes landed on Derek’s, he stilled. He had never seen Derek look so… concerned? fond? He couldn’t quite place the emotion, but it was definitely new.

“Derek?” Stiles called softly, watching Derek blink, “Where did everyone else go? Are they all okay? What about the omega? Did you fix me up?”

“I… uh-“ Derek cleared his throat. “Everyone went home to rest, they’re all fine, except you, of course. The omega is taken care of. And, uh, yeah, I did that,” he said, gesturing to Stiles.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Where’d you learn to do that?”

Derek shrugged, “My mom.”

Stiles just nodded in understanding. They sat for a few minutes before Derek stood up to get Stiles some pain killers and a glass of water. He pushed them both into Stiles’s hands and told him to take them. Normally, Stiles would have argued that he didn't need them, but he was too exhausted right now.

“I should get home to my dad. He knew we were gonna be out late, but I told him I’d be back before the morning. What time is it, anyways?” Stiles asked, looking for a clock, completely ignoring the stinging sensation in his abdomen as he twisted around.

“Stiles, stop moving,” Derek ordered. “It’s almost one.”

“Shit. Okay, where are my keys?”

Derek just stared at him, mouth open slightly. “You’re joking, right? You are absolutely not driving tonight.”

“Derek, I’m fine. I can drive.”

“No.”

“Give me my keys!”

“Not happening.”

Stiles threw his head back and groaned in frustration. “Fine. You can drive me then,” he said, smirking.

Derek rolled his eyes, but held his hand out to help Stiles up, who winced in pain as he stood. They walked out to the car together, but Derek practically carried Stiles. Once they got settled in the car, Derek drove as smoothly as was possible in the godforsaken Jeep to Stiles’s house. The ride was quiet, aside from the occasional grimace or grunt from Stiles, but they eventually pulled into the driveway. Derek helped Stiles out of the car, through the door, and up the stairs. The sheriff was asleep, but he’d be glad to see Stiles in the morning.

Derek turned around to look at Stiles from the doorway. “Stay still and go to sleep,” he instructed.

“Yes, Dr. Hale,” Stiles said with a bright smile. Derek just shook his head and left, closing and locking the front door on his way out. He walked home.

— - —

The next morning, Stiles woke up to a throbbing pain below his ribcage. The house was quiet, so his dad must have already left for work. He glanced at the clock — 9:03. Stiles sighed and started the long and painful process of sitting up and getting his feet on the ground. By 9:10, he had managed it.

As Stiles made his way downstairs, he tried to replay what happened the night before — finally catching up to the rogue omega, following her through the woods, getting into the fight, going to take a swing, and then — nothing. Nothing until the gashes on his stomach sewn together and Derek looking at him funny. It all seemed to happen so fast, and Stiles still couldn't figure out what the expression was that Derek had turned on him. The memory seemed to change as he thought about it, so he gave up, his head swimming.

Stiles heard a knock on the door as soon as he sat down with his bowl of cereal. He sighed, glancing between his bowl and the door, then decided to take the cereal with him as he spooned more into his mouth. He opened the door to find none other than Derek standing on his porch, staring at the cereal with a raised eyebrow.

“Cut me some slack,” Stiles grumbled, “I had a long night.”

Derek just scoffed at that. Stiles glared in return and walked back to the kitchen, assuming that Derek would follow. He did.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Derek? And since when do you knock instead of just breaking in?” Stiles asked.

“You dad’s car wasn’t here, so I figured…” Derek shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t died overnight.”

“Well, you can see now that I have not died yet.”

Derek just nodded. Stiles shook his head in exasperation and went back to eating. Once he only had a few soggy pieces of cereal left in the bowl, Derek spoke again.

“Also,” he said, then hesitated. “Also, I was gonna give you this.” He was holding a chain in his hand, like he didn’t know what to do with it.
“A chain,” Stiles said skeptically, but held out an open palm to Derek, who dumped the metal into Stiles’s hand. When he looked down at what Derek had given him, Stiles realized that it was a necklace with a triskelion pendent on it.
“Oh,” he said quietly.

Derek stayed silent for a beat, then said, “It’s just, pretty much everybody else already got theirs. In my family, whenever someone in the pack proved to be worthy or valuable, they received a triskelion as a symbol of trust and unity.”

Stiles had noticed the others wearing the spirals — Scott had a ring, Kira and Malia both had bracelets, and Lydia had a smaller, much daintier ring than Scott’s. He had tried not to think about it, though, because any time he did, a heavy feeling of disappointment and exclusion settled in his stomach.

“And so now that I almost got killed again, you think I’m good enough to be in your pack,” Stiles said. His hand closed around the necklace tightly.

“No, Stiles, that’s not it at all,” Derek said quickly, “I just… I didn’t realize how much you cared about being a part of the group. Most of the other times that you’ve been hurt, it was because you just got caught in the crossfire, but not last night. Last night, you literally threw yourself into the fight just to be a part of it. None of us were in immediate danger, but then you were, and I figured that you had already proven yourself more than once.”

“Oh,” Stiles said again. He looked at the pendant and felt a smile growing on his face. He tried to tamp down the warmth floating up through him, but it was harder than it should have been. Stiles had been feeling some kind of affection for Derek for a few months now, but was it more than friendly? Before he could let his mind wander too far down that road, Derek cleared his throat.

“Anyways,” he said, “Just wanted to check in to see that you didn't rip open any of your stitches, but they look fine to me.” He gestured to Stiles’s shirt.

For the first time since waking up, Stiles realized that he was still wearing his torn shirt from yesterday. He cursed under his breath and made a mental note to change his sheets as soon as Derek left.

“The wound should start feeling better soon. It could have been worse,” Derek said, then headed towards the door, instructing Stiles to stay in bed as he walked out.

— - —

Stiles spends the rest of the day drifting in and out of sleep, trying to distract himself from whatever feelings he’s apparently harboring for Derek, and snacking. He resigns himself to staying on the couch to sleep so that he doesn’t have to keep walking up and down the stairs, because as much as he wants to pretend everything is totally normal, it’s pretty painful to move around too much.

Since his dad is working late tonight, Stiles goes to sleep before he even gets home. He manages to change into clean underwear and a shirt this time, though, and leaves a note for his dad explaining that he had a long night but he was fine and that dinner was in the fridge.

By the time he woke up the next morning, Stiles could move almost normally. When he went downstairs, his dad had just finished cooking a breakfast of eggs and toast, and he took a plate gratefully.

“So,” the sheriff started, “What exactly happened the other night?”

Stiles sighed. “It’s kind of a long story, dad, but we finally caught that rabid omega from like a month ago.”

Sheriff Stilinski just made a noise of understanding and nodded. While he was informed about the supernatural beings that made up a pretty large chunk of Beacon Hills, it wasn’t his favorite topic to talk about. He essentially just avoided it when he could.

“And where’d you get that necklace?”

Stiles looked up. He had totally forgotten that he was wearing it. “Oh, uh, Derek gave it to me. It’s, like, a pack thing.”

His dad raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Whatever you say.”

“What? Dad, I’m serious!”

“Alright, kid, I believe you,” the sheriff said, but he was still smirking. Stiles just glared and took the rest of his breakfast up to his room.

Why didn’t his dad think it was a pack thing? Does he not think Stiles is part of the pack? He wouldn’t have looked so smug if that were it, though. Does he… Does he think that Stiles and Derek are more than friends? Shit. Why would he think that? Maybe Stiles does have a thing for Derek. A little thing. Or maybe a big thing. Maybe Stiles got butterflies whenever Derek smiled and did anything in his power to make Derek laugh and kind of wanted to make out with him sometimes, but that didn’t mean anything, right?

He called Scott.

“Scott, hey buddy,” he says when the phone stops ringing.

“What’s up, Stiles?”

“We’ve, uh, we’ve got a small problem here.”

“What? What’s wrong? Is it your stitches? Derek said they were fine yesterday.”

“No, they’re fine. Actually, Derek is kind of the problem.”

“Huh?”

Stiles sighed. Bless Scott’s innocent soul.

“Stiles?” he prompted, “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. He gave me a triskelion necklace but—“

“Really? That’s awesome! I’ve been trying to get him to give that to you for months now. He kept saying you wouldn’t want it which I knew was totally wrong, but he wouldn’t lis—“

“Scott, focus here.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“I think I might have a little crush on Derek maybe,” Stiles blurts before he can talk himself out of it.

“Yeah, and?”

Stiles just stopped. What is that supposed to mean? Why wasn’t Scott being more weird about this?

“Stiles?” Scott asked, “What’s the problem? I don’t get it.”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the problem’? That is the problem!”

“What? Why is your crush on Derek a problem?”

“Why are you acting like it’s not a problem?!”

Scott sighed on the other end. “Stiles, we’ve all known that you’ve had a crush on Derek pretty much since you saw him. Are you seriously just now figuring this out? I just thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Wait, all? Who is ‘we all’?”

“Just… all of us. Lydia, Kira, even Liam.”

Stiles groaned. How could his friends know about him liking Derek before he even knew?

“Wait,” he said, “Does Derek know?”

“Nah, I don’t think so, bro. He’s pretty oblivious. Worse than me, maybe. We’re all fairly certain that he likes you too, though.”

“What the hell, Scott? You never thought about mentioning this to me?”

“Well, no, we just figured you knew!”

Stiles let out a long-suffering sigh and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Whatever. Derek doesn’t like me back anyways. You guys are definitely wrong about that. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Oh, uh… are you sure?”

“Yep. I’ll talk to you later, Scotty.”

He doesn’t wait for Scott’s response before hanging up.

— - —

The next time Stiles is woken up, it’s because of a tapping on his window. He reached for his bat automatically and looked to the glass, only to see Derek crouched on his roof.

“What the hell, Derek?” he asked once he flung his window open, “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on you again. I was gonna stop by earlier but I had some stuff to take care of.”

“I’m not just gonna die, you know,” Stiles teased.

“Yeah, I know, but I was gonna bring you coffee or something too, since I know it isn’t good for you to be moving around too much, so, uh….”

Stiles just looked at him, mouth open slightly. “Derek, you know it’s like,” he squinted at the clock. “Eleven thirty. It’s almost 11:30.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’ll just….” Derek started to move away from the window.

“Wait, Derek! I didn’t say no.”

Derek looked back up to see Stiles smirking. He glared and jumped off the roof.

“Let’s go then,” he called, “I’m driving.”

Stiles scrambled out of bed and pulled on some clothes, then got downstairs as quickly as possible without hurting himself.

— - —

“Shit, it’s cold out,” Stiles said as he played with the buttons on his coat to keep the feeling in his fingers.

“Well, it is December,” Derek said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks, big guy.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you didn’t dress appropriately.”

“Yeah, and it’s not my fault that you have an unnatural amount of body heat and you don’t have to worry about wearing a big enough coat or enough layers.”

Derek just chuckled and shook his head as they pulled into the parking lot of the all-night cafe.

“Come on, you can warm up inside,” Derek said as he left the car.

Stiles followed Derek up to the counter of the cozy diner as he ordered.

“One medium mocha and one large coffee — black,” he said, handing over the money.

“No, Derek, I can pa-“ he stopped. “Wait, how do you know what coffee I like?”

Derek shrugged. “Lucky guess?”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek.

“Whatever, I’m paying on our next date,” Stiles joked.

“Promise,” Derek said.

Stiles could have sworn that Derek looked pleased when he said that, but there was no way to be sure, and Stiles was not going to use a maybe-half smile as proof to assume that Derek likes him. No way.

Stiles brushed it off and followed Derek to the counter to pick up their drinks.

“Come on, I wanna go somewhere.”

“What? But we just got here! I’m still cold!”

“The car has heat. Let’s go.”

Stiles groaned, but followed Derek back outside. The heating in the car did warm Stiles up some, but he still didn’t understand why they couldn’t have at least stayed a few minutes.

Stiles made small talk to distract himself from the chill.

“So, what were you so busy doing today?”

“Went out scouting for more omegas. It’s not unusual for one to follow another.”

“Uh huh,” Stiles said, “And that took you all day?”

Derek shot him an incredulous look.

“Do you even know how big and dense those woods are?”

Stiles just shrugged, laughing.

Soon, Derek turned onto a back road, and kept driving for a while, until they pulled out into a huge clearing in the trees.

“Whoa,” Stiles said quietly.

Derek smiled and opened his door to go sit on the hood.

As Stiles sat down next to him, Derek said, “You have coffee to keep you warm, and it’s midnight, which is the best time to be here. I expect no complaints.”

Stiles just mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key.

Derek went to roll his eyes, but the moonlight reflecting off of the chain of the triskelion necklace on Stiles’s neck caught his attention. The grimace was replaced with a small smile.

“Look up,” Derek said.

As Stiles repositioned himself so that he could look towards the sky, his shoulder brushed against Derek’s. He’s sure Derek didn’t think anything of it, but as soon as they touched, Stiles knew that this was more than a crush.

The feeling lingers as they sit in silence and watch the stars. The air in the car is charged with it as Derek drives Stiles home. Stiles’s body buzzes with it as Derek helps him back to his room without turning the lights on so that the sheriff doesn’t wake up.

Stiles is in love with Derek.

— - —

He called Scott as soon as he heard Derek pull away from his house.

“Scott,” he whisper shouted as soon as Scott said hello.

“Yeah, Stiles, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“The problem is bigger than I thought it was.”

“What? What problem?”

“The Derek problem!”

“Oh, right. Why?”

“I don’t have a crush on him.”

“Uh… okay, if you say so. I mean, I’m pretty sure-“

“Scott! I… I think I’m in love with him. We were hanging out tonight and it was really nice and I love Derek, dude. Fucking Derek! Can you believe this? Remember when we both used to hate him? That was so much easier, can we just go back to that?”

“Hey, first of all, I never hated Derek. And second of all, we can handle this. Not while you’re all freaked out, though. So you need to go to bed, then we’ll figure something out in the morning, okay? Just get some rest.”

Stiles took a deep breath.

“Yeah, okay. You’re so smart sometimes, Scott.”

Stiles heard Scott laughing.

“Whatever. Night, man.”

“Night.”

After hanging up, Stiles got under his covers and attempted to sleep. After at least half an hour of tossing and turning and trying to clear his mind, he finally exhausted himself and fitfully dozed off.

— - —

Stiles groaned almost immediately upon waking up. All he could think about was that he loved Derek and that once he had figured it out, he called Scott and panicked about it in the small hours of the morning. He sat up and called Scott again to apologize.

“Hey man,” Stiles said, “Sorry about last night.”

“Nah, it’s all good dude. It’s not like I didn’t do the same thing when Allison and I were dating.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. Guess we’re even now.”

“Yeah, I guess so, buddy. Anyways, did you want to try to work out what you might want to do about this? I mean, you don’t have to do anything, but if you need me to help you develop an action plan, I’m totally here for you.”

“Yeah, um, I think I’m just gonna keep hanging out with him like normal and see what happens.”

“Okay, yeah, that sounds like a good plan,” Scott said.

“I don’t have my hopes up, though. It probably won’t work out.”

Scott sighed. “Come on, Stiles, have a little faith. If you were that bad, you know we’d all tell you, right? There’s no reason for Derek not to like you.”

Stiles scoffed at that. “Yeah, aside from the obnoxious sarcasm, nonstop talking, nosey curiosity, and lack of sex appeal.”

“Stiles,” Scott said seriously, “You always sell yourself short. Do you seriously think Derek would have wanted to hang out with you last night — or ever — if he didn't like you at least a little bit?”

Stiles scrubbed his hand through his hair and over his face. “Uh, I guess not.”

“He wouldn’t. So just don’t think too much about it and everything will be fine.”

“Hopefully. Thanks, Scotty, you’re seriously the best.”

“I know,” Scott said with a laugh right before he hung up.

Stiles shook his head and flopped back down on his pillow. It took him a second to realize the lack of pain in his stomach as he moved around. He experimented different positions, moving as quickly as he dared, but only felt a dull ache where his scratch was. He pulled up his shirt to examine the wound, and saw that it was already starting to scab over. The stitches definitely did not need to be in there anymore. He decided to go over to Derek’s to see if he would remove them.

When he pulled up to the loft, Derek was looking out the window at him, like he always was. He could hear anyone who approached the building, so he always watched them to make sure it wasn’t a threat. It was hard to tell from where Stiles was standing on the ground, but it looked like Derek smiled when he saw him.

Despite the fact that Derek knew he was there, Stiles knocked on the door and waited to be let in.

“Hey,” he said when Derek opened the door.

“Hi,” Derek said.

Stiles just stared at him across the doorjamb.

“Uh… can I come in?” Stiles prompted.

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.” He stepped aside to make room for Stiles to walk past.

Stiles shrugged his coat off and sat down on the couch to wait for Derek to close the door and join him.

“So…” Derek started, “Did you need something?”

“What, can I not just stop by to visit my dear friend Derek Hale?”

Derek looked surprised. “I, uh-“

“Dude, I’m joking. I wanted to ask you if these stitches need to be in anymore. I don’t think the wound was as bad as you guys made it out to be, it’s pretty much healed already.” He lifted his shirt up to show Derek what he meant, noting how his eyes roamed over Stiles’s skin before settling on the sutures.

“Hm,” Derek said, reaching over to pull at the skin a little, checking the strength. “Yeah, this healed pretty quickly. We didn’t think it was too bad, but I wanted to make sure, so I put the stitches in anyways.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Why would you do that?”

Derek looked back up at Stiles as though he didn’t understand the question. “Like I said, just to be sure. Anyways, I can take these out now, if you have the time.”

Stiles’s expression lightened. “Yeah, I’m good for the day. Dad is working a double shift since it’s Saturday, so he wont be home ’til the morning.”

Derek just nodded as he got up and walked to the kitchen. He returned with a small first aid kit.

“Lie down,” he said.

“Yes, sir.” Stiles wriggled down on the couch until he was flat. His shirt had gotten more bunched up, but he figured it would be easier for Derek that way, so he left it as is. Derek took deep breath and kneeled on the floor next to Stiles. He wiped the wound clean and got to work removing the stitches.

“Oh, wow, that is not a pleasant feeling,” Stiles said, cringing, as Derek pulled a piece of thread out of his skin.

“Well, would you rather leave it in?”

Stiles glared and told Derek to shut up, but Derek just smirked and continued working. After a few minutes, Derek cleaned the area again and put a band-aid over it for extra protection. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Is that really necessary?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Derek recited.

“Oh my god,” Stiles muttered. He was about to say how he was fine and that clichés aren’t always applicable, but was cut off by his stomach growling. He hadn’t eaten before he came over.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “You want something to eat?”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, okay, like you have anything to eat here.”

Derek’s second eyebrow joined the other on his forehead. He walked back towards the kitchen and started listing all the food he had.

“Cereal. Bagels. Turkey. Peanut butter and jelly. Popcorn. Chips and salsa. Soup.”

Stiles perked up. “Soup? What kind of soup?”

“Clam chowder, chicken noodle, and tomato,” Derek called back.

“Tomato! Make me tomato soup. And grilled cheese! You have cheese, right?”

“Yes, Stiles. Contrary to popular belief, I do live and eat here. I have cheese.”

Stiles clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Perfect. You make us lunch, and I’ll go grab my laptop and queue up a movie.”

Stiles got up and bolted out the door before Derek could respond. His laptop was still in the Jeep from when they were using it to look up maps to track the omega, so he dug around until he found the charger, then brought them both back inside.

“Alright, what do you want to watch?” Stiles called to the kitchen. He heard Derek’s exasperated sigh before he got an answer.

“I don’t care, Stiles. You pick.”

“Sounds good to me!” He clicked on Star Wars in his ‘Recently Watched’ list on Netflix and let it load while Derek finished cooking. After a few minutes, Derek appeared in the doorway with two bowls of soup and a plate stacked with two grilled cheese sandwiches balanced in his hands and on his arms.

“Wow, look at you. You know, if this whole werewolf thing doesn’t work out for you, I think you could have a career in waiting tables.”

“Shut up,” Derek said as he placed the food gingerly on the coffee table. Stiles happily obliged as he picked up his bowl of soup and pressed play on the movie. They ate and watched in silence together, but Stiles was constantly aware of Derek’s presence. Every time he moved, he jostled Stiles’s leg or nudged his shoulder or touched his knee. It was exhausting trying to pay attention to so many things at once.

Or maybe that was just because he slept so horribly last night.

Stiles made it to the end of the movie, but when his offer to help clean up the dishes was declined, Stiles closed his laptop and slouched back down on the couch, curling up with his back pressed against the back of the couch. He didn’t mean to, but he fell asleep almost instantly.

— - —

By the time he woke up, it was dark out. A comforter — seriously? Did Derek not have any blankets in this building? — had been thrown over him, and Derek was nowhere to be seen. Stiles pushed the comforter off of him and checked his phone, but he didn’t have any messages, so he got up and looked around the loft.

The kitchen was vacated, and the bathroom light was turned off, so Derek wasn’t down here. Stiles glanced at the metal spiral staircase that led upstairs. He wasn’t sure if he was really supposed to go up there, since it only had Derek’s personal bedroom, office, and bathroom, but he didn’t have anywhere else to look, so he chanced it.

The first door at the top of the steps led to the office. It was open, and the room was empty. Empty of Derek, at least. There were actually some packed boxes on one half of the room, and the other half had a chair and a desk that was cluttered with paperwork, photos, and other things. Stiles moved on.

The bathroom was right across the hall, but it was also empty. It was much neater and more organized than the office, but probably because there were only about five things in there. Stiles finally came to the last door in the hallway, which he assumed led to Derek’s bedroom. The door was ajar, so Stiles knocked and poked his head in.

“Derek?” he called. As soon as he said it, he saw Derek lounging on the bed, which was devoid of a comforter, reading a book that looked about 200 years old.

“Oh, hey,” he said, “Finally awake, huh?”

Stiles laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. Didn’t sleep well last night, so….”

Derek just nodded in understanding, then found his bookmark and saved his spot in the ancient book.

“Are you going home?” Derek asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I can go. I don’t want to impose or anything,” Stiles said quickly as he kept his eyes on the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Stiles.”

He looked back up.

“You can stay if you want.”

It took Stiles a few seconds to comprehend what Derek had just said.

“Oh! Yeah, that works too. I don’t need to be home anyway, since my dad isn’t there and all. Plus it’s kind of late, so there’s not really any point in me going anywhere,” Stiles rambled, trying to justify why he should stay.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Derek said calmly, but he was definitely smirking a little. “Let me grab you a shirt to borrow.” He got up and walked over to his dresser, rummaging around until he pulled out an old, soft, grey t-shirt. At first Stiles was going to opt to keep his own shirt on, but then he noticed how sticky and sweaty it felt from being under the thick comforter for so long.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, taking the t-shirt.

Derek just nodded and walk out into the hallway, disappearing into the bathroom.

“I don’t have a spare toothbrush,” he called, “But you can use my mouthwash if you want.”

Stiles followed him into the room.

“That’s fine,” he said.

Once they had both cleaned up and gone back to the bedroom, Derek stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving only his boxer briefs as he picked out a clean white muscle shirt. Stiles swallowed as he turned away and did the same, but he put on Derek’s shirt instead of a tank top.

When he turned back around, Derek’s ears were tinged pink, but he quickly glanced at the bed.

“So, I only have the one comforter, and it gets pretty cold in here in the winter….”

Stiles was confused for a second, until he realized that one of them was going to freeze during the night, or they were going to have to share the comforter. Stiles was determined not to be weird just because he happened to be a little bit in love with Derek, so he went downstairs to get the blanket and bring it back up.

“Which side do you sleep on?” he asked confidently as he spread the comforter over the mattress. Derek gestured at the right side, where he had been sitting when Stiles first came in. Stiles nodded and walked around to the other side, getting under the covers and laying back against the pillow. He looked over at Derek.

“You gonna hit the light, or are you just gonna stand there until the morning?” he teased.

Derek rolled his eyes, but went to flick the light off anyways. When he came back and slid into the bed, Stiles stayed as still as he possibly could, hoping he wouldn’t brush up against Derek on accident and freak him out. Eventually, Derek stopped moving around.

“Night, Stiles,” he said.

“Night.”

While Derek fell asleep, Stiles realized that his confidence from earlier was entirely feigned. He was even more hyperaware of Derek’s minute movements than he had been on the couch when they had sat next to each other. Anytime Derek moved, Stiles froze. Eventually, he got too tired to keep up his charade and fell asleep.

— - —

Stiles woke up and was instantly confused. His room was unusually bright, and the walls were bare… oh. Right, he wasn’t in his room. He was in Derek’s room. In his bed. Derek, however, was not.

Stiles figured that he wouldn’t have gone far, so he unwrapped himself from the cocoon of blankets, pulled his jeans back on, and walked downstairs.

He found Derek on the couch.

“Hey,” Stiles said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“‘Morning,” Derek smiled.

“So, thanks for letting me stay, seriously, but I should really get home to my dad.”

Derek looked disappointed for a brief second, but he just said, “At least let me make you something to eat before you go.”

“Uh, yeah, okay, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stay a little longer,” Stiles said as he attempted to pat his hair down a little.

Derek’s smile returned as he got up to walk into the kitchen. Stiles followed and sat on the counter as Derek rummaged in the fridge.

“Did you sleep okay?” Derek asked.

“Actually, yeah, I did. Better than I have in a while,” Stiles conceded. It was true. Even though it took him a while to wear himself out, once he actually fell asleep, he slept soundly. Whether Derek had a nice mattress or Stiles was comforted by having someone there beside him, especially Derek, was beside the point.

“Good,” Derek said as he put two pieces of bread in the toaster.

Stiles just nodded as he swung his legs above the floor. When Derek pulled the toast out, it was burnt to a crisp. Stiles didn’t say anything, because it was still really nice of Derek to make breakfast for him, but he had to use every ounce of self control he had not to laugh. When Derek pushed a plate with a piece of blackened toast with butter and jelly on it, Stiles accepted with a strained smile.

“Thanks,” he said, holding in his laughter.

Derek gave him a weird look, but just nodded and ate his own toast. They both sat in relative silence, and Stiles finished his toast quickly. He stood up and put his plate in the sink.

“Okay, thanks again, I owe you. My dad is gonna start to worry if I don’t get home.”

Derek looked resigned, but he said, “Anytime. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was. Anyways, I’ll catch you later, big guy,” Stiles said, clapping Derek on the shoulder and waving as he grabbed his coat and walked out.

— - —

As he walked back up to his house, he belatedly realized that he was still wearing Derek’s shirt. He cursed and jogged back to the Jeep, but remembered that he left his shirt at Derek’s. He sighed and walked through the door.

His dad was sitting in the kitchen, reading the paper and probably waiting for him.

“And where were you last night?” the sheriff asked.

“Oh, I, uh… stayed at Derek’s?”

The sheriff raised his eyebrows and shot Stiles a warning look.

“What? Nothing weird!” Stiles scrambled. “We’re friends! I went over to talk about some supernatural stuff,” Stiles waved his hand in the air to indicate the wide range of topics, “But then I fell asleep and when I woke up there was really no point in me going home, because it was pretty late.”

“Uh huh,” Sheriff Stilinski said skeptically.

“I’m serious!”

“Ok, kid, but at least tell me next time.”

“Right. Sorry, dad. Won’t happen again.”

The sheriff nodded and waved a hand to dismiss him, so Stiles scurried upstairs. He sat at his desk and debated what to do about the shirt. He decided to let it go for now in favor of texting Scott.

Stayed at Derek’s last night. Kept his shirt on accident. Wanna play video games?

He got a response within two minutes.

What?! What do u mean ‘on accident’? What did u guys do????? I’ll be over in 10

Stiles just left the questions unanswered until Scott got there. In the meantime, he set up the game and dug out two controllers. By the time he had found them, Scott appeared in his doorway.

“Hey,” Stiles said, barely glancing up.

“Is that Derek’s shirt?”

“Oh. Yeah, I didn’t bother changing.”

“So… why do you have his shirt? Is yours… dirty?” Scott said the word like it was taboo.

Stiles stared at him in disbelief.

“What? Scott, what are you talking about? Are you implying that Derek and I had sex? Dude, no! What the hell? It was totally innocent! Nothing happened, we just watched a movie and slept and he made me breakfast! He’s actually a surprisingly good host.”

“Oh,” Scott said.

“Yeah, oh.”

“Then… are you gonna give him his shirt back?”

Stiles shrugged.

“Eventually. Probably.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. They sat next to each other on Stiles’s bed and started playing Mario Kart, just goofing off and enjoying each others’ company. After a few hours, Scott had to head to work, but Stiles was feeling a lot less stressed than he had been.

“Thanks for coming over,” Stiles said as Scott gathered his things.

“No problem, bud.”

They waved goodbye and Scott left. Once Stiles was alone again, his thoughts wandered back to Derek. He thought it over, and eventually deiced that he might as well just get it all out there. He felt uncomfortable around Derek when he was focusing so much on keeping a secret, so it’d probably be better to just tell him. Plus, Derek seemed nice enough when they hung out, right? He couldn’t totally hate him.

He sent Scott another text.

Gonna go for it with Derek.

Then he called Derek.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Yeah, hey, Derek.”

“Hi, Stiles.”

“So, I think I left my shirt at your place, because I’m wearing yours and mine is not in my car. Do you have it?”

“Hold on, let me look.”

Stiles heard Derek go up the stairs and open the door to his room.

“Yeah, it’s still here. Want me to bring it over?”

“Nah, I’ll come get it. I have plans anyways. Might have a date tonight!”

Derek was quiet for a moment, but then said, “Okay, just come on up when you get here.”

“Got it. Thanks!”

Derek hung up without saying goodbye.

— - —

When Stiles got there, the door was swung open before he could knock. Derek held out his shirt as he stood in the doorway.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Stiles said, accepting the shirt. “You want yours back?”

“Keep it. I don’t wear it anymore.”

Stiles smiled. “Awesome! Thanks, it’s really soft and comfortable, so it’ll be nice to-“

“Stiles, don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” Derek interrupted.

He stopped. This was it. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for Derek’s reaction.

“Right, um, would you maybe wanna go on a date with me? I’ve kinda had a crush on you for like, ever, and I totally get it if you don’t want to but I just figured I should ask because I thought it would be better to know, but now I’m sort of regretting that train of thought because you’re not saying anything so if you could just put me out of my pain, that would be nice,” Stiles rushed out, all in one breath. He cringed, anticipating the worst.

“Yes.”

Stiles’s head dropped and his shoulders slouched, and he almost walked away, until he processed what Derek had actually said. He looked back up quick enough to give him whiplash.

“What did you just say?”

“I said yes. I’ll go on a date with you.”

Stiles felt his eyes widen to a comical size, and then his smile followed suit.

Derek smirked and looked down, blushing.

“Great!” Stiles said, a little too loudly. “You wanna go to that coffee place again? They had a pretty big menu and I haven’t eaten since that burnt toast that you made me this morning.”

“That sounds great, Stiles.”

“Perfect!” Stiles clapped his hands. “Let’s go, big guy.”

He reached for Derek’s hand tentatively, but Derek intertwined their fingers with confidence. They held hands until they got to the car, where Derek wouldn’t let Stiles drive without both hands on the steering wheel.

When they walked up to the counter, Stiles ordered for the both of them.

“Hi, could we get a large black coffee, a roast beef sandwich, a medium mocha, and a turkey club wrap?”

“Sure thing. That’ll be 21 dollars and 47 cents,” the girl behind the counter said.

Derek started to get out his card, but Stiles shoved his hands away.

“Excuse me,” Stiles warned, “You promised me that I could pay on our next date, so you better keep your word.”

Derek just shook his head with a smile and raised his hands in surrender. Stiles turned back around triumphantly and presented his card to the girl. She smiled fondly at them before swiping the card and telling Stiles that their order will be called out soon. Stiles thanked her and led Derek to a table in the corner.

“So,” Derek prompted once they’d sat down with their food and drinks, “How long is ‘for, like, ever’?”

Stiles groaned.

“Uh… I don’t know, man. A long time. Don’t be a dick about it.”

Derek just laughed and took a bite of his sandwich.

“Well, then it’s been mutual for quite some time.”

Stiles almost chokes on his mocha.

“What?” he splutters.

“Stiles, why is it so hard to believe that I like you?”

“I- I don’t know, ‘cause I’m….”

“Smart? Caring? Witty? Loyal?”

Red crept onto Stiles’s face.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Derek moved his foot under the table so that their legs were touching.

“Now tell me everything you like about me,” Derek said.

Stiles snorted. “Well, you’re very modest,” he said, rolling his eyes.

As they ate, they talked about how Stiles’s dad was doing (overworked), what Stiles was doing over winter break (not homework), and if there were any more omegas on Derek’s radar (there was one possibility). Stiles was so happy to be right where he was, that for once, he let go of all of his fears and ghosts about everything that could happen or had happened. He knew that getting past it all for an hour or so wasn’t much, but if Derek could make him feel this way, that said enough for Stiles.

Once there was a comfortable lull in the conversation, Derek led them out of the cafe. Stiles walked behind him, but tripped on the doorjamb, so he slammed into Derek’s back.

“Oops,” he said as Derek turned around and steadied him. Their faces were inches apart. Stiles stuck to what he told Scott, and he went for it.

Their lips met, sliding together perfectly, and Stiles exhaled, relaxing against Derek. There were so many layers between them in the cold, but as Stiles stood there kissing Derek in the middle of the sidewalk, he had never felt closer to him.

— - —

As soon as Stiles got home, he texted Scott.

!!!!!!!!!!

After a few minutes though, Scott still hadn’t responded, so Stiles plopped onto the couch and flicked on the TV. He watched reality shows until Scott responded, almost two hours later.

?????? srry we were busy

Stiles’s eyebrows drew in confusion.

Who is we? Busy with what?

uh… the pack? taking care of the second omega?

Stiles froze. What? He knew there was another omega, but Derek had said that he was still trying to catch its scent. How could they have found it already? And why didn’t anyone tell Stiles?

He didn’t bother texting Scott back, but texted Derek to see if he was home. When he got conformation, he got in the Jeep and sped all the way to the loft. He parked sloppily and jumped out of the car, walking up to the door and pounding on it. Derek opened it with a smile.

“Hey, Stiles. Miss me alrea-“

“What the fuck, Derek?” Stiles yelled, crossing his arms.

Derek looked extremely confused. “I… what?”

“You went after that omega! You didn’t tell me! In fact, you made it sound like you didn’t even know where he was! You told me that he might not even be out there!”

Realization dawned on Derek’s face. He suddenly looked guilty.

“Stiles, look, I know I didn’t exactly tell the truth, but we really didn’t know exactly where it was when I told you tha-“

“Why didn’t you let me help? I could have been there! You could have been hurt!”

Derek’s eyebrows drew into a scowl.

“Me? I could have been hurt? Stiles, the whole reason I didn’t take you with us is because I didn’t want you to get hurt again!”

Stiles groaned in frustration.

“That healed in like, three days, that hardly counts. And you can’t just keep me out of the loop and treat me like some fragile little kid just because I’m not supernatural,” he said, waving his fingers at the last word and rolling his eyes.

“Stiles, I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do! Everyone does! You, Scott, the rest of the pack, my dad….” he shook he head, laughing bitterly, “you know what? I’m done. I’m not fucking useless. I don’t need anyone to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

Stiles turned and walked as quickly as he could back to the Jeep. Derek was calling for him to come back, but he didn’t listen. Just as he got his hand on the door, Derek grabbed his arm and spun him around.

“Stiles,” he said, “Stiles, I’m sorry. Please. Please listen. I don’t think you’re useless. We couldn’t function as a pack without you.”

Stiles looked at Derek, but he didn’t take his fingers off the handle.

“I just….” Derek continued, “I just get so fucking worried about you. I don’t ever want you to be in danger. Why do you think I put those stitches in even though we could all see that you didn’t need them? I… I don’t know what I would do with myself if anything ever happened to you.”

Stiles sighed. He let his hand drop.

“Derek, I get it, okay? I do. But that doesn’t mean that you can just leave me behind, waiting for you guys, wondering if you’ll even come back. It’s not fair. If I can help you, I want to do that. You guys need me. You need me to tell you when your plans are too stupid to go through with. You need me to do research and get you into the police station. You need me to make sure you don’t do anything so fucking self-sacrificing that you can’t come back from it, Derek. I can’t lose you too.”

Derek nodded minutely and moved closed to Stiles, taking small enough steps that Stiles could back up if he wanted to. He didn’t. Derek wrapped him up in his arms and petted at the back of his head.

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered, “I was just trying to protect you.”

Stiles nuzzled into Derek’s neck. He didn’t accept the apology yet, because he was still angry, but they would work it out in the end. They always would.

— - —

Within a few days, everything between Stiles and Derek was going smoothly again. Stiles regularly spent the night at Derek’s — almost every time his dad worked overnight. They had gotten so much closer in the past week than they had ever been in the years that they had known each other.

After the pack got rid of a particularly annoying group of fairies, Stiles went back to the loft with Derek.

“Are you sleeping here tonight?” Derek asked as they walked through the door.

“If that’s okay with you,” Stiles said, pressing Derek against the door and kissing him.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’s back and pulled him in. They stayed like that for a while, kissing and holding each other. Eventually, they decided to get some dinner.

“What do you feel like?”

“Can we just order in?” Stiles groaned.

Derek laughed. “Yeah, that’s fine. Chinese?”

“Sounds good.”

Derek called in their order, and then they made out some more on the couch while they waited for the food to get there. By the time there was a knock on the door, Stiles’s hair was mussed and his face was flushed. Derek laughed and him and shoved him off towards the door.

He returned with the food and some change, and sat the containers on the coffee table. Derek joined him in sitting on the floor.

“So,” Derek said as he shoveled some food in his mouth, “Have you been getting nightmares still? You mentioned getting them, but you haven’t really been waking up much during the night.”

Stiles was silent for a minute.

“It’s better with you,” he said quietly, chewing thoughtfully, “I used to get them most of the time when my dad wasn’t home, because I would get scared that if something happened, no one would be there to help me, and I can’t make sure my dad is okay when he’s at work, so I would get freaked out. I feel better when there’s someone else, especially you.”

Derek smiled softly and knocked his knee into Stiles’s. They finished eating in silence, constantly glancing at each other.

Once they finished their meal and cleaned up, they turned on the TV and sat on the couch together. However, their TV session quickly dissolved into a make out session. Stiles moved to straddle Derek, but when he started mouthing at Derek’s neck, Derek pushed him down into the cushions and crawled on top of him.

Derek skimmed his hands under Stiles’s shirt, raising goosebumps. Stiles put his hand on the back of Derek’s head and pulled him down into a kiss. As Derek pushed Stiles’s shirt higher, he moved down to nip and lick at Stiles’s chest and stomach. Stiles arched into his touch and grabbed at Derek’s arm.

Derek peeled Stiles’s shirt off and leaned down to suck a bruise onto the skin over Stiles’s collar bone.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped.

Derek dragged his lips up to Stiles’s jaw, leaving soft kisses there.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, stroking Stiles’s sides.

Stiles tugged at Derek’s shirt, so Derek sat up to pull it over his head. Stiles leaned up and put his hands on Derek’s chest immediately, scratching with blunt nails and pressing in with nimble fingers. When he got his mouth on Derek’s neck, Derek threw his head back and moaned, which made heat go straight to Stiles’s dick.

When Stiles sat down on Derek’s lap again, he could feel that Derek was just as interested as he was.

“Bed,” he said into Derek’s neck, “Can we move to the bed?”

Instead of answering, Derek picked Stiles up and started walking towards the stairs with Stiles’s legs around his waist and his arms around his neck. Stiles couldn't help but laugh as he bounced when Derek jogged up the stairs. He expected Derek to glare at him for ruining the mood, but he was smiling too.

When they made it to Derek’s room, Derek tossed Stiles on the bed. His arms sprawled above his head and both of the boys took a moment to look at each other and take each other in. Eventually, Derek took a step towards Stiles, but before he could get on the bed, Stiles held up a hand and said, “Wait.”

Derek backed off immediately, thinking that Stiles was having second thoughts, but then he sat up and reached out and hooked a finger in Derek’s waistband. He looked for confirmation on Derek’s face, so he nodded, eyes wide. Stiles smirked and started unbuttoning Derek’s jeans. He pulled them down slowly, revealing Derek’s black boxer briefs. When Stiles straightened up again, he mouthed at the top of Derek’s underwear, and Derek involuntarily thrust his hips.

Stiles kissed above the fabric and started to undo his own pants, shoving them down and wiggling them off his legs. Once he was free of them, he put his hands on Derek’s hips and pulled him forward to sit on his lap. It was easy to tell that they were both completely hard now.

Derek kissed Stiles slowly as he started to grind his hips down into Stiles’s. Stiles held on to Derek’s back as he tilted his head back to let out a moan. Derek took the opportunity to put his mouth back on Stiles’s neck. Stiles fell backwards against the mattress as Derek nosed at his neck and licked little stripes onto the skin there. Stiles skimmed his hand down Derek’s back and slipped his fingers under Derek’s underwear, curling them into one of Derek’s cheeks.

Derek groaned and panted open-mouthed against Stiles’s neck, pushing his ass back into Stiles’s hand. He flipped them over so that Stiles was on top and put his hand between them, close to Stiles’s dick.

“This okay?” he asked before moving any further.

“So okay,” Stiles gasped.

Derek kissed Stiles and put his hand over his dick, rubbing him through the underwear.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” Stiles cursed into Derek’s mouth. Encouraged by Stiles, Derek dipped his fingers under Stiles’s underwear, pulling his cock out and pumping it a few times. Stiles scrambled to get his hands on Derek too, shoving down his boxer briefs and rubbing his thumb over the head of Derek’s cock.

Derek moaned and moved his other hand to Stiles’s ass, massaging and then pressing a finger against Stiles’s hole. Stiles pushed his ass back, trying to get Derek’s finger inside of him.

“Derek,” he panted, “Fuck me, please dear god just fuck me.”

Derek kept rubbing circles around Stiles’s asshole, but he looked up and asked, “Are you sure?”

“So sure, one hundred percent sure, never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” Stiles rambled.

Derek nodded and dumped Stiles off of him, getting up to reach over into the drawer if the nightstand and pull out a bottle of lube. He looked back at Stiles.

“I can use a condom if you want, but I can’t get any-“

“Nope, no, it’s fine, just get back here,” Stiles cut him off.

“Take your underwear off,” Derek said as he tossed the lube on the bed and pulled down his own. Stiles stared at Derek for a second, lips parted, but then remembered that he needed to also be naked. He pushed his underwear down and threw them on the floor, then put his hand on his dick, dying to get some friction.

Derek crawled back over him and poured some of the lube onto his fingers, pushing Stiles’s legs apart with his other hand and smearing the lube over his hole. Stiles hissed at the cold, but Derek rubbed around the skin to warm it up, so Stiles quickly got over it and started moaning.

“Ready?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded frantically and watched as Derek coated his fingers in lube. He pushed one finger against Stiles, rubbing to relax him before pushing in. Stiles squirmed and panted above him.

“Come on, Derek, you don’t have to go this slow. I do this to myself all the time,” he said between moans.

Derek quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, so let’s go, big guy.”

Derek pushed his finger in as far as it could go and pumped it in and out. Once it was moving smoothly, he added another finger, and repeated the process until he had three fingers fucking into Stiles easily.

“Okay, this is great and all, but I’m ready,” Stiles panted.

Derek nodded. “How do you want it?”

Stiles seemed to consider for a minute. “I wanna be on top,” he said.

Derek nodded again and flopped down on the bed as Stiles got up on his knees. He straddled Derek, holding his dick and stroking it a few times before coating it in more lube and lining it up with his hole. He sank down so that the head was in, then braced his hands on Derek’s chest and lowered himself until his ass was flush against Derek’s legs.

Stiles could feel Derek twitching as he tried not to thrust, so he moved experimentally, allowing himself to get used to being so full. Once he was comfortable, he lifted himself back up, then dropped down in one motion, leaving both Stiles and Derek moaning loudly.

Derek moved his hands to Stiles’s waist and tried to lift Stiles up again, but Stiles set his own, agonizingly slow pace. He was enjoying every second of being in control, but he could only keep that charade up for so long before he was bouncing up and down in Derek’s lap.

Stiles kept going until he started to lose his rhythm, so Derek started thrusting up to meet Stiles as he came down. Stiles’s moans got louder and more frequent as Derek angled himself to hit Stiles’s prostate with every thrust.

“Der-“ he choked out, “I’m gonna, I’m about to-“

“Do it,” Derek said, “Come on, Stiles, come for me.”

It only took three more thrusts for Stiles’s head to tilt backwards and his mouth to open as he shot white streaks over Derek’s chest. Derek continued pounding into him, chasing his own orgasm. Stiles did all he could to hold himself up through his ecstasy, then dragged two fingers through the come on Derek’s chest and pressed it against Derek’s lips. He immediately sucked Stiles’s fingers into his mouth and sucked on them as Stiles pushed them in and out.

The taste of Stiles on his tongue is what pushed Derek over the edge. His hips stuttered as he came inside of Stiles, letting out a moan that turned into a growl.

Once they both came, Stiles collapsed on top of Derek and pulled his fingers out of his mouth. Derek winced as the come slid between them, but let Stiles lay there for a few minutes before he shoved him off and went to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth to clean them up. He wiped his own chest and then Stiles’s.

He tossed the towel on the floor for now and dug through his drawer for two clean pairs of sweatpants, throwing one to Stiles. He pulled them on and padded to the bathroom. Stiles picked up the toothbrush that he’d been keeping there and brushed his teeth, joined by Derek half way through.

He smiled at Derek in the mirror as he walked out and got back in the bed, which was straightened up now. He got under the covers and waited for Derek to come back. When Derek slid into the bed next to him, Stiles scooted over to throw his arm over him. Derek was asleep in minutes, but Stiles couldn’t sleep.

He laid there, cuddling Derek, for half an hour before he realized that the reason he couldn’t sleep was that he couldn’t calm down the butterflies in his stomach. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he was this happy. He smiled and pressed a kiss to Derek’s jaw.

Stiles fidgeted around until he was comfortable, but Derek started to stir too. Stiles looked up at Derek, who had that same strange look on his face that he had weeks ago, when Stiles was passed out on his couch. Stiles was stared at Derek, trying to figure out what it meant.

After a long pause, Derek said, “You’re my best friend.”

Stiles was so surprised that he just continued to look at him. Once he snapped out of it, he smiled and leaned up to kiss Derek.

Derek smiled back and fell asleep again, but Stiles laid there, still stunned. The more he thought about it, the more he was positive what Derek meant.

Derek was in love with Stiles too.

— - —

“Morning,” Stiles heard as he opened his eyes.

“Hey,” he replied, stretching and kissing Derek on the cheek.

Derek rolled over and held himself above Stiles, kissing his forehead and then getting out of bed.

“You hungry?” he asked as he walked towards the door.

“I could eat.”

Derek nodded and walked out of sight. Stiles stayed put for a few minutes, then he dragged himself out of bed and went downstairs.

Derek was cooking some eggs in the kitchen, and when he saw Stiles, he said, “I’m out of bread, so I can’t make you burnt toast. I have eggs though.”

Stiles laughed. “I can see that.”

Once Derek finished cooking, they sat together and ate, watching the winter outside the window. There was frost on the window, but they were warm inside, legs touching under the table.

When Stiles drove home later that day, he could almost hear Derek telling him that he’s his best friend again, could almost feel Derek’s skin under his hand, and when he went to sleep that night, he could almost see the curve of Derek’s back in the darkness next to him.

Stiles woke up feeling colder than usual under his blanket. He missed having Derek sharing his space. He looked out the window and saw snow blanketing the ground. It was still falling lightly, and Stiles smiled and decided that snow was as good a reason as any to go to Derek’s.

He showered and got dressed, put on his coat and a hat, then got in his Jeep to drive to the loft. When he pulled up outside the building, Derek walked outside with his leather jacket on. Stiles smiled at him as his shoes crunched in the snow.

“I like this hat on you,” Derek teased as he pulled it down to Stiles’s eyes.

“Hey!” Stiles said, trying to push Derek’s arm away, but only slipping in the process.

Derek caught him at the last minute in one arm and pushed his hat back up with the other hand, laughing the whole time. Stiles glared at him, then yelped when Derek pulled him back up and pushed him away again, sending him spinning.

“Derek, what the hell?”

“Oh, come on, Stiles, my mom didn’t force me to take dance lessons for nothing.”

“What?” Stiles laughed, but he twirled back to Derek, then wrapped his arms around his waist. Derek put his arms on Stiles’s shoulders and moved them in a slow circle. They danced as the snow fell, spinning around and around in each other’s arms.

Stiles could see his breath hitting Derek.

“Uh,” he started, “This is great, but I can’t really feel my fingers anymore. Think we could go inside?”

Derek threw his head back and laughed.

“Yeah, come on,” he said, grabbing Stiles’s hand and leading him inside, “I have hot chocolate.”

Once they got inside and shed their coats and shoes, they walked into the kitchen and Derek put a kettle of water on the stove. Stiles rummaged around in the pantry until he found a half-empty box of instant hot chocolate mix. He smirked at the image of Derek sitting in his bed and reading with a warm mug of hot chocolate.

“You want to watch a movie? I have more in the boxes in my office,” Derek offered as he poured water into two mugs.

“Sure, I’ll go look,” Stiles said.

He looked through the boxes until he found one that was full of books, CDs, and movies. He saw Love Actually and instantly pulled it from the box. He was about to head back downstairs, but something caught his eye that wasn’t there the last time he was in this room.

Above the desk, Derek had taped a picture of Stiles on the wall. It looked like it was from the first time Stiles slept here, when he had fallen asleep on the couch. It was before Derek had put the comforter over him, so Stiles was curled up in a ball, facing the camera, mouth half open.

Stiles’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest, so he turned around and walked back into the hallway.

“Nice picture,” he said to Derek once he had sat down on the couch with his mug in his hand and the movie in the DVD player.

“What? What picture?”

“The one in your office, above the desk.”

When Stiles looked up, Derek looked horrified.

“Uh, I just….” he stammered, scrambling for an explanation.

Stiles laughed. “I’m not freaked out, Derek. It’s very cute that you put a picture of me sleeping on your wall,” he said, pinching Derek’s cheek as he said the word ‘cute’.

Derek scowled and pushed Stiles’s hand away, but his face was burning red.

“Just play the movie, Stiles,” he said.

Stiles chuckled again, but did as he was told. As the movie started, Stiles slipped his hand into Derek’s and leaned against him, and Derek rubbed his thumb over Stiles’s skin.

Stiles figured that Derek forgave him.

— - —

A few days later, Derek invited Stiles over to make dinner with him.

“Hey, dad, I’m heading to Derek’s,” Stiles called on his way to the door.

“Yeah? You sure have been spending a lot of time over there recently. Is there something going on? A pack that needs tracking? Do I need to get involved?” The sheriff had made his way over to the hall as he talked.

“No, uh, nothing like that. We just, um….” Stiles stammered. He took a deep breath and said, “Uh, dad? Me and Derek are sort of… dating?”

His dad nodded.

“Finally. Can’t say I didn’t see this coming, kid.”

“What? Really?”

The sheriff laughed. “Sure,” he said, “You two have been dancing around each other for months”

“Oh,” Stiles paused, smiling a little. “I… I think I love him, dad.”

“That’s great. I’m glad that you finally got your act together. Claudia would have been too.”

Stiles paused.

“Were- were you and mom in love?” he asked quietly. The sheriff just stood there for what felt like forever, and Stiles was sure that he had crossed some line, gone too far. Then his father spoke.

“Yeah, Stiles, we were,” he said sadly, but with a smile.

Stiles nodded slowly, thinking.

“It must have been awful, trying to deal with it when she started to lose her mind. I don’t know how you didn’t lose yours too. I can’t even imagine….” Stiles trailed off, fearing that he would start crying if he kept thinking about it.

“Yeah, well, it felt like I did sometimes. She fought one hell of a war, though, and I’m just glad I got to help her. I like to think that it made it at least a little bit easier for her.”

Stiles couldn’t hold it in anymore, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he remembered his mom and how her death shook their family to its core.

Sheriff Stilinski sighed. “I guess you can kind of understand why I put myself through all of that now. You were too young at the time, but now… I hope it makes more sense, kiddo.”

“It does, dad.”

Stiles walked over to his dad and gave him a hug.

“I miss her,” he whispered into the sheriff’s shoulder.

“Me too, Stiles.”

They broke apart and Stiles’s dad clapped him on the back.

“You better get going,” he said, “Don’t want to keep Derek waiting.”

Stiles thanked him and walked out the door with a soft smile.

— - —

“I told my dad,” Stiles blurted as soon as Derek kissed him hello.

“What?”

“I told my dad that we were dating. I don’t know if you wanted to keep it between us but he asked why I was spending so much time over here and I didn’t want to lie and then he started talking about my mom and-“

“Whoa, Stiles, calm down, it’s fine. I wasn’t trying to keep any secrets. What did he say about your mom? Are you okay?”

“Oh,” Stiles said, taking a breath, “Oh, yeah, he just, um, said that she’d be happy for us.”

Derek smiled and wrapped his arms around Stiles.

“She would, Stiles.”

Stiles smiled back and kissed Derek.

They cooked dinner together, but not without making a mess. They goofed around and danced in the kitchen, but when they finally put the homemade pizzas in the oven, they had a hell of a mess to clean up.

“There’s extra towels in the linen closet,” Derek told Stiles.

Stiles opened the closet, but instead of grabbing towels, his eyes locked on a comforter. A different comforter than the one on Derek’s bed. He smirked, picked up a roll of paper towels, and sauntered back into the kitchen.

“So, you only have one comforter?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, why?” Derek said as he wiped the counter, then looked up. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit is right,” Stiles laughed. “Did you just happen to forget that you had that?”

“Uh, maybe I just wanted you to share the bed with me?” Derek said it as though it were a question. He looked like he was bracing himself to be hit.

Stiles threw his head back and cackled. He set the paper towels on the counter, walked over to Derek, and wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m glad you lied,” Stiles whispered, inches away from Derek’s mouth.

“Me too,” Derek said. He closed the distance between them and kissed Stiles.

They didn’t clean up until after the pizza was taken out of the oven.