Chapter Text
***
Stiles’ heartfelt words silence him. Derek can’t take his eyes from him, can’t stop himself from engraving each word into his mind. Sounds, feelings and confessions that tug his heartstrings. Whiskey eyes that don’t meet his, but Derek can still see how they’re warm and bright. He can almost touch the panic waves coming from Stiles, but it’s mesmerizing at the same time to see how those eyes reflect happiness and relief.
“I like you,” Stiles murmurs at the end.
It’s not a lie, despite how Stiles’ mouth trembles at the words and how his heart seems like it’s going to rip his chest at any second. Derek knows it’s not a lie.
“I don’t mean it in a— you know,” Stiles waves his hands between them. “I like—Oh my God, just kill me now,” he buries his face into his hands.
“Stiles,” Derek calls him.
“You know what I mean, right?” Stiles asks, eyes still facing the floor. Derek fights the urge to make him look at him, but the touch might be too much; too much for him.
Trust, you must trust him, Derek thinks.
“Yes,” he replies.
Stiles grunts something he can’t understand. “I’m sorry. I just had to— you’re probably feeling disgusted right now and… I understand. In fact, you should probably just leave.”
Derek widens his eyes and then he can’t help to laugh. And when Stiles glances up to look at him, Derek freezes. He looks petrified.
“Stiles,” he whispers softly, but Stiles’ expression doesn’t change.
“Are you— are you laughing at me?! Because that’s the worst thing—“
“No,” he smiles. “Give me your hand.”
Stiles narrows his eyes. For a moment Derek doesn’t know if Stiles will just start shouting at him, making them inevitably crash once more. So Derek extends his hand and waits. He can wait, as long as it takes. They’re so close right now, literally and figuratively. Derek can wait.
Reluctantly, Stiles gives him his hand. Derek watches his fingers tremble before the touch and the image seems to take over his mind. They’re not easy, never were. But Derek wants to make this easy, for him and for Stiles. This should be easy after the many hardships of their lives. Painless, after the crashes and fights they had. Simple, because there are no expectations. Effortless, because it’s easy to love someone who’s constantly in his thoughts, in his skin, in his heart. It’s easy because it’s Stiles. It’s easy because the world feels right when Derek grabs Stiles’ hand with a strong grip.
“I would never laugh at what you just said,” Derek says.
“But you did and if this is some kind of pity way of saying—“
“No, I laughed because you keep surprising me. In the best ways,” he clarifies and after a while adds, “Your heart is beating really fast. I know what you’re feeling, how you smell and how each word you said was true.”
Stiles tries to break free from Derek’s grip. But Derek doesn’t let go of his hand. He can see how much Stiles is blushing and fighting to not even look at him.
“Look at me,” Derek says.
“It’s not fair,” Stiles whispers, his eyes glancing at their joined hands.
“I know,” Derek replies and puts Stiles’ hand on his chest, right where his heart is. Beating just as fast as Stiles’. Maybe even more.
Stiles’ ragged breath mixes with the sound of their heartbeats.
“Look at me,” Derek pleads again.
This time Stiles does; widen, glittering, brown eyes that don’t settle. It makes Derek notice how close they’re standing to each other. He can see from this short distance how Stiles’ chest quickly rises and falls as if he’s desperately trying to get some air in his lungs.
Inevitably, Derek’s heart beats faster.
“I— I don’t understand,” Stiles says.
“Me neither,” Derek lets himself smile. “I can hardly explain it, but here’s what I do know,” he holds Stiles’ hand even tighter against his chest. “You. Everything about you. The good and the bad… You got under my skin and my thoughts. Somehow, one day, it spread beyond that. A warmth that I can feel inside my heart; the heart you have on the palm of your hand.”
Stiles drops his gaze to Derek’s chest where Derek is tightly holding his hand there. He starts to slowly move his fingers, slightly brushing Derek’s shirt. Both of their hearts skip a beat.
Derek waits for him to look back at him, “A warmth that dictates my actions. Even when I don’t want to. Even when I shouldn’t let it happen. But it compels me. Something stronger than anything I ever felt,” he sighs deeply. “Something I’m scared to lose because I know I won’t find it in anyone else,” his heart shakes in his chest. “I can’t lose you,” his voice sounds broken. “It was excruciating to see you vanish in my arms, disappearing from my life,” Derek feels the slight press of Stiles fingers and closes his eyes. “I don’t believe in many things. But I do believe in people’s actions and what I see. I don’t believe in halfhearted feelings. But I do believe in this. Because I can feel it,” he opens his eyes and both of their gazes meet.
“You can feel it too, right?” Derek asks.
Stiles doesn’t say anything. He nods slowly, incredibly slowly. His heart keeps racing and his eyes keep traveling between Derek’s face and their joined hands. But Stiles is also extremely still, it’s unsettling. Maybe this was wrong, Derek thinks. The thought scares him. It sends him back to that pool, where the spoken words were the wrong ones and all the others were left unsaid. Trust. His mind travels to memories that don’t seem to let him go. Burned memories that remind him of how it feels to give every part of himself to someone. It hurts and it breaks him. Until—
Stiles turns his hand around his and grabs it. His eyes are now fixed on their entangled fingers. Derek glances down and stares. Despite the rush of his heart, the image feels right to him. It feels right. This can’t be wrong, nothing here can be wrong. If this is wrong, he needs to find a way to fix it, to mend it and prove the world that this is right. And when Stiles tightens his fingers in Derek’s hands, he stops being scared.
This is the person who never leaves him alone. He comes back and is able to catch him every time. Everything feels like it’s supposed to be, because this is someone who makes his heart feel safe. Like now, Stiles catches Derek from his thoughts and fears. He stops him in his tracks; stops him from running down that path again. Stiles makes him stay.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles says. Their eyes meet and Derek fears this is the time where Stiles will finally turn his back. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting it. But it’s fine now. As long as he doesn’t fade from his life, it’s fine. It’s fine…
Derek loosens his hand, but Stiles doesn’t let him let go. His hold gets stronger, almost like he’s forcing their hands to remain connected. Stiles’ eyes travel back to their hands, he licks his lips and determination takes over his face when he meets Derek’s gaze again.
“I believe in feelings,” he starts. “I have to believe it. I have to believe in a lot of things after everything… I also believe in actions,” he plays with their intertwined fingers. “I also believe in you, in this—“, he moves their hands up where both of them can see it.
The silence drags for far too long. It’s almost painfully quiet, maybe for both or maybe just for Derek, he guesses. They are still holding hands and Stiles makes sure to have them right in front of their eyes, like a reminder that this is real. And then he’s grinning.
Stiles’ smile grows until he stars laughing.
“What?” Derek asks, but he can’t help to feel overwhelmed by the sound of it.
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” but he keeps smiling. He smells… “I’m just glad, happy even,” Stiles’ whole face beams.
Derek has seen him smile, sometimes because of others, but mostly from Stiles’ own jokes, like he’s afraid people won’t find them funny if he doesn’t smile. But this; this is different. His lips don’t just curve; he’s smiling with his mouth open wide and all teeth. A genuine laugh he can’t control. His eyes wrinkle at the edges and shine as if he’s about to cry with joy. It’s beautiful and mesmerizing. Derek stares and maybe if he tries hard enough he may save this moment in his mind forever. Keep the image and watch it play again when one of his nightmares strikes again. Or simply because he can. Because this smile is just for him; only he can hear his warm laughter fill the room; only he can feel how their hands hold steady as Stiles leans forward and kisses him.
Stiles is still smiling and chuckling when he presses his lips against Derek’s. It’s a chaste kiss, soft and too fast. When Stiles pulls back, Derek wants to grab him but he’s too dazzled by it, shocked with wide eyes. Stiles freezes when he realizes what he just did.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I— Oh God. I wasn’t thinking! I’m so sor—“
But Derek doesn’t let him finish. With their hands still tied, he pushes Stiles and cups his face with his other hand, lets his thumb stroke his cheekbone and looks straight into his eyes.
“Please don’t say anything.”
They’re only a few inches apart, but Derek waits. He waits for Stiles to look at his eyes, he waits for Stiles to lick his own lips and stare at Derek’s. He waits for Stiles to gasp for air. He waits for Stiles heartbeat to speed up. He waits. Derek waits, because he could wait a lot more. He waits until Stiles nods and lets the tip of their noses brush.
Derek doesn’t have to wait anymore; he brings their hands to his heart again and kisses Stiles.
Everything makes sense as their lips crash together. The world vanishes around them and all that matters now is Stiles and how his soft lips feel and taste. How Stiles grabs his shirt like he’s pulling his heart out of him, claiming it for him and him only. And Derek lets his hand slide from Stiles face to the nape of his neck and tugs him even closer. Stiles hums and smiles in his mouth, teeth slightly brushing against his bottom lip. Derek’s tongue presses slightly until Stiles opens his mouth. It’s too much, too warm, too good. Stiles rushes his other hand to grasp Derek’s hair and he lets himself drown in everything he’s feeling right now. He gets lost in every single touch; in every single hot panted breath; in every single moment his tongue twists against Stiles’; in every single sound and heartbeat that leaves him drunk; in Stiles, mostly in Stiles.
Derek gets lost, but Stiles holds him every time; holds him like he has been drifting around too. It’s an anchor that Derek is not willing to let go; a jolt of happiness that makes Derek smile and Stiles can’t help to return with one of his own. They stop kissing, as their smiles get wider. Derek rests his forehead on Stiles’ and for a long time they just look into each other, smiling and panting.
Derek doesn’t know when he fell in love with Stiles. Between their fights, the life threats and the long days of research, something happened. Something that he didn’t realize it would ever happen again. Not to him. He doesn’t remember the first thing he felt when he saved Stiles for the first time. He doesn’t remember the first time he defended Stiles even when he wasn’t around. He doesn’t remember the first time he started to seek his company. He doesn’t remember when Stiles turned his crappy life into something worth living for. He doesn’t remember when, how and why. But he does remember how he felt every time Stiles saved him. He remembers the first time Stiles made him laugh. He remembers his misery the first time Stiles made him sad. He remembers why Stiles touched his shoulder to comfort him. He remembers feeling jealous of seeing Stiles with Lydia. He remembers when, how and why they met; but only now it feels like he’s returning home.
He leans into Stiles’ neck and his heart races faster when he listens to Stiles laugh. Derek breathes him in, smiles and kisses him softly on the moles around his neck. Stiles' smell is sweet and spicy and fresh like the rain. He doesn’t smell like blood or ash or hospitals. He’s safe, here and at his reach, to touch, to kiss, to protect.
“Derek?”
“Hmm?”
He drops one more kiss where two of Stiles’ moles are right next to each other.
“I really like you,” Stiles says softly and Derek doesn’t need to see him to know he’s smiling when he wraps his arms around Derek’s back.
“Me too,” Derek says as he closes his eyes.
“Really?”
The question makes him lift his head to look at Stiles properly.
“Really.”
The kiss is clumsy because both of them can’t stop smiling. But at the same time it’s perfect and everything Derek could wish for.
***
A week later, they all get together at Derek and Isaac’s house to celebrate Stiles’ birthday.
Despite Lydia’s disapproval, this was the only thing that Stiles’ begged her for. But she still wanted to take care of everything, resulting in her crashing there every single day after school. The worst part was that Stiles couldn’t come with her.
“Of course he can’t come, Derek,” she told him. “It’s his party! It’s supposed to surprise him. You can go visit him at his house and leave everything to me,” which scared him deeply. But the others would arrive later to tag along too, meaning he could actually be alone with Stiles.
Derek thought he knew Stiles, but the truth is there was much more to learn about him. During the last week, he learned how Stiles remains quiet when he’s studying. The amount of notes from his classmates and papers from his teachers all spread around the bed, while Stiles is quietly writing on his computer or reading a book. He also learned which music Stiles listens to, his favorite bands, his favorite songs, and his guilty pleasures. He learned more about Stiles during these days than in two years. It was fascinating and scary at the same time.
Before the big day, Derek drove Stiles to the hospital to take out the rest of his stitches, since his father couldn’t go with him. It was the first time he saw Stiles shirtless and it was going to take him some time to forget that scar and how Stiles hissed with the pain. But it helped to see it. To remind him of what he almost lost. Stiles kicked him in the knee saying he was scowling too much, while he was the one in physical pain. A grin splattered on his face, until the nurse took the next stitch and he was screeching again.
That night Derek and Scott had dinner with Stiles and the Sheriff. At first it was awkward and silent, but then Stiles— well, by now Derek realized that Stiles was a master in turning a awkward situation into something even more awful and weird.
“Next time we should eat chicken,” he said with his mouth full. All of them turned to look at him, expectantly. A terrible decision. “Because then we can eat with our hands. Meat, little bones. That should make you two more comfortable,” he joked while pointing at Scott and Derek, who glared at him.
“How many bad dog jokes does he play on you two?” The Sheriff asked.
“You have no idea,” Scott said, laughing.
“They’re not bad!”
“No,” Derek said and waited for Stiles to look at him, a smile plastered on his face. “They’re terrible,” he smiled back and everyone on the table laughed. Except for Stiles.
They didn’t tell the Sheriff about them, not yet, they decided. Stiles wasn’t ready and it was too early for someone who just learned about werewolves. But Stiles said he wouldn’t lie to him either if his father questioned him. Derek agreed.
But today, they tell their friends.
They already knew.
“What?! But how? We’ve been—“
“Please, your sudden happiness and constant afternoons with Derek were obvious enough,” Lydia tells him.
“That’s because you told me to stay home!”
“Well, obviously the fact that you’ve been crushing on him forever doesn’t help your secret.”
“I—“
“Really?” Derek asks, smiling.
“Oh please, like you’re the one to talk. You’ve been pinning for him for God knows how long!” Erica scolds him and Derek shoots her a fierce glare.
“Wow, really?” Stiles face beams.
“It got clearer after a while,” Scott says.
“You knew?!” Allison asks him.
“Yeah, Derek told me. You knew too?”
“I didn’t tell you anything!” Derek shouts at the same time as Allison says, “Stiles told me.”
“Well, at least they didn’t know,” Stiles mutters and points with his head at Isaac, Boyd, Danny and Jackson.
“Come on, Stilinski, if Scott knew, I knew too,” Jackson scoffs and Lydia smacks his head.
“Lydia!” Stiles snaps and Lydia gives him an apologetic look.
“I think it was obvious,” Isaac shrugs and Boyd nods.
“Jackson told me,” Danny adds.
“Oh great, so everyone knew except us,” Stiles says.
“You can’t blame us for your lack of communication,” Lydia points out.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” Allison says, smiling widely at them.
Later, Stiles gets distracted playing a game with Boyd, while Derek is dragged out of the living room by Scott.
“Why am I here?” Jackson asks, gritting his teeth.
“To emphasize our point,” Lydia replies.
“And why am I here?” Derek glares at them. They sit him on his own bed and close the door. Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Danny surround him. They all stare at Derek.
“To have the talk, what do you think?” Lydia says, hands on her hips. “Go on, Scott. Be a man.”
Scott snorts, “Okay,” he turns to Derek. “If you hurt him, we’ll do worse.”
“That’s it? That’s the best you can do?” Lydia insists.
“What do you want me to say?!”
She sighs, “If you hurt him, I’ll make sure that every liquid you drink contains the most dangerous kind of wolfsbane you ever tasted. I will circle your house with mountain ash and leave you starving for days. I will make Jackson throw your car from a cliff—“
“Don’t involve me on this!” Jackson barks.
“I can handle that,” Derek teases.
“Derek, we mean it. You can’t hurt him,” Scott scolds.
“You know I will,” he says, serious this time. “I’ll ruin him, he knows that. He will ruin me too, I know that. But,” he pauses to stand up in front of Scott, “I promise to stay by his side.”
Allison puts a hand on Scott’s shoulder, who turns to look at her. She nods and smiles. When his gaze turns to Derek again, his face is not playful anymore.
“I won’t forgive you,” Scott tells him.
“I won’t forgive myself either,” Derek replies.
It’s enough, for now it’s enough.
***
After the sun sets, Derek and Stiles find themselves alone in the kitchen, while the rest of their friends are all watching a movie in the living room, thanks to a big screen TV that Lydia brought in.
Stiles eats more of his birthday cake, while Derek washes some of the dishes.
“Did they talk to you?” Stiles asks between bites.
Derek chuckles, “Yeah.”
“I will have to run the whole preserve ten times per day naked until your betas think I’ve had enough. Somehow I think that means for life. You?”
“Wolfsbane, mountain ash, my car destroyed and Scott will probably never look at me again.”
“Hmm,” Stiles murmurs, “That doesn’t sound too bad. I should talk to them,” he grins.
“Funny,” Derek says while cleaning his hands. He wraps his arms around Stiles and nuzzles his neck. “It feels good.”
“What? Being threatened?” Stiles laughs, letting some pieces of cake fall to the floor.
“To have people who care.”
“Oh.” Stiles turns to look at him. Derek settles his hands on his hips, while he watches Stiles lick his fingers covered in cake. “I care too. You know that, right?”
Derek smiles, “I do.”
“And if you do hurt me, which you won’t,” Stiles pokes his chest, “I will still care, but I’ll punish you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup,” he grins and Derek leans forward to steal his smile.
“That’s too kinky even for you, Stilinski,” Jackson shouts.
Stiles mutters something about werewolves against his lips, while the rest yell at Jackson about privacy, but Derek doesn’t care.
***
At night the party changes according to the group of teenagers Derek is harboring tonight. There’s loud music, booze, junk food and silly games that he tries not to play.
Later when everyone leaves, Isaac and Stiles are sprawled on the couch playing a karts game. Derek watches them silently. Honestly, he doesn’t know where Stiles is getting all of his energy. Even Isaac is almost drifting off, causing him to lose the game.
“Can I stay here tonight?” Stiles asks, not really looking at him.
Derek frowns in wonder, but replies, “If you want to.”
Stiles’ bright eyes turn to him, his heart speeding up, “Nice, I’ll call my dad.”
Isaac stares at Derek as soon as Stiles leaves the room, “I’m going to my room. Don’t you dare to wake me up.” And Derek suppresses a laugh.
***
It’s only when they’re both holding each other under the sheets that Derek gives Stiles his birthday present. Something that he never gave to anyone. Something that he doesn’t want to give to anyone else except Stiles. Something that hasn’t belonged to him for some time.
“I love you.”
Stiles’ heart speeds up and Derek reaches a hand to Stiles’ chest, to keep it there, to steady him. It’s not Derek’s birthday and even if it was, he doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t deserve Stiles’ heart, but Stiles gives it anyway.
“I love you too.”