Work Text:
☆ ☾ ☆
“I know you can hear me right now, so please come help me carry up these bags,” Stiles mutters. He waits a moment before getting out of Derek’s Camaro and popping the trunk. Stiles leans back on the heels of his feet and frowns. He may have gone overboard.
“Jesus, did you buy one of everything?”
Stiles does not jump. He’s used to Derek sneaking up on him these days. But when their eyes meet, Stiles sees Derek’s smirk. He knows Stiles’ heart rate has spiked. Fucking bastard.
“I have big plans this week,” Stiles says, defensively. He watches as Derek starts to slide the handles of the bags onto his arm. Stupid fucking werewolf strength.
“I’m not doing this all by myself, you know,” Derek tells him over his shoulder. He steps back and damn. Derek’s wearing the black t-shirt that Stiles had accidentally shrunk in the wash. It’s so goddamn tight over his chest... his arms... and when Derek adjusts himself, it shows a little of his midriff.
Stiles grabs the last three bags Derek left him and shuts the trunk lid. He trails behind him and tries to ignore how easy Derek makes it when he swings the apartment building door open.
They don’t speak again until they’re in the loft; Stiles starts putting away the groceries, and Derek sits on the couch with his laptop and textbooks spread out across the coffee table.
“How much do I owe you?” Derek calls out. His fingers are flying over the keyboard a moment later.
Stiles bends down to put the eggs away before he straightens to answer. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
The clicking of Derek’s keyboard stops. “Stiles, what do you mean? You easily spent like, a hundred bucks on groceries.”
Closer to two fifty, but Stiles thinks it’s adorable that Derek has no concept of the cost of food. Before Stiles, Derek survived on take-out food and UberEats. But things are different now. They might not live together, but Stiles tries his best to bring Derek groceries on a regular basis. If anything, so he has something to cook while they hang out.
Sometimes, Derek cooks with Stiles. It’s nice. Super domestic and it should absolutely freak them both out, but it doesn’t. Stiles likes those nights though, because cooking is the only time Derek seems a little insecure. The guy has an ego and the confidence to think he could get away with murder. Well. Stiles supposes they both have. It’s hard not to when the supernatural world wants to kill their pack on a regular basis.
“Dude, I’m not the one who’s in his final year of university,” Stiles points out, waving some fresh carrots in the air. “That’s you. Besides, I told you. I have big plans for this week. I’m going to make sure you have three square meals a day and have leftovers for my dad and me.”
Derek eyes him. “You’re tense. Why are you tense? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Ahhh,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “Against the rules, man.”
He feels Derek study him with concern, but Stiles tries to ignore it. He continues to put away more groceries, still pleased that Derek let him reorganize his kitchen. Everything is exactly where Stiles placed it. And bonus, Derek does his hardest to follow Stiles’ system.
Stiles bends down to put some things in the bottom drawer of the fridge, and since the door blocks Derek from seeing him, he takes the opportunity to force himself to relax. He rolls his shoulders, unclenches his jaw, and stretches his neck.
“You don’t have to feed me this week,” Derek tells him.
“I do and I’m going to,” Stiles replies before standing up. He gives Derek his most charming smile. “I think it’s you who needs to relax, buddy. How’s your final essay coming along?”
“Fine,” Derek says.
Stiles waits, wondering if Derek will call him out on being weird again, but Derek turns around to focus on his work. It’s not until they’re both unwinding around eight o’clock to watch the newest episode of Michael Schur's latest TV show that Stiles feels the tension rush out of him.
He has no idea how to explain to Derek what happened to him at the grocery store earlier.
☆ ☾ ☆
“So, I have a question,” Lydia says, walking straight into Stiles’ office without knocking. He lifts his head from his computer screen to look at her.
Since things have grown quieter in Beacon Hills, his friends have started to really come into their own. Today, Lydia is wearing all black; a black t-shirt and tights. It really makes her strawberry blonde hair pop.
“Are you going on a stakeout today?” Stiles interrupts. Lydia puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head. He leans back in his chair. “Stupid question. You obviously are.”
Lydia, Allison, Danny, Malia, and Stiles had started their own business: a private investigation company for the supernatural. It’d been Lydia and Danny’s idea, and it’s grown into a multi-million company. They’ve hired witches, faeries, werewolves, vampires, goblins, and so many other creatures that Stiles had only dreamed about existing. There are offices all around the globe now.
They still do P.I. work, but it’s expanded into being an all-around centre for the supernatural. The original five don’t get out into the field as often.
“Don’t interrupt me,” Lydia says, sitting down. “Why does Caitlin think you and Derek are together?”
Stiles’ lips part and then close. Lydia’s gaze is sharp, and he finds himself leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling to avoid it. “Maybe because I ran into her in the grocery store last week.”
“That’s not an answer,” Lydia murmurs.
“Hang on,” a new voice comes. Stiles closes his eyes. He hears Malia getting Danny and Allison from their offices. “Okay, continue.”
When he opens his eyes, his four friends are staring at him with curiosity. Danny has a full smirk on his face. Allison quietly shuts the door.
“Caitlin thinks you and Derek are dating because you ran into her at the grocery store last week,” Malia prompts, waving a hand in the air.
“Ally?” Stiles pleads.
Allison shakes her head. “I can see how I’d be your best bet, Stiles, but sorry, I’m curious to know the story.”
His shoulders drop. The second he tells them, word will get out to Scott and Isaac, Jackson, Kira, Cora, and then heaven forbid Erica finds out from someone who isn’t Stiles. She’ll hang him off the side of a building as revenge. Boyd probably wouldn’t care, but he’d learn about it. And then... oh god, Laura. Laura would never let him live this down.
And then someone will let it slip to Derek.
“I’m not...”
“Stiles,” Lydia says, impatiently. “I’m going out with Alicia and Tracy to train them on a very important stakeout in twenty minutes. Tell us now.”
“Fine!” he says, throwing his hands up in the air. He rubs his face before he starts. “I was in the grocery store, getting food for Derek and myself. He had his final exams last week, so you know he wouldn’t eat properly. He was all stressed out. Anyway, I bumped into Caitlin.”
Stiles hates that his friends share a look with each other.
“Do you want to know or not?”
“We do,” Danny says, nodding. “We just think it’s sweet how you have no faith that Derek can feed himself.”
“Well, he can’t!” Stiles protests. He takes a breath. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I ran into Caitlin and she asked where my better half is. I wasn’t really thinking and I told her that he was at home, studying, since you know, he went back to school and all.”
“Okay,” Malia says, waving her hand in the air. “Get to the point.”
“Caitlin told me that it was sweet how much I cared for Derek. And then Heather came up,” Stiles continues. “They kiss because they’re sickeningly cute. And then Caitlin tells Heather that I’m cooking for my boyfriend all week because he’s studying for his exams! And Heather’s all, ‘Oh, that’s so sweet. Just like you did for me, Cait.’ Then I don’t know what happened.”
“Yes, you do,” Lydia prods.
“Fine. They asked me how long we’ve been together, and I was very confused. And tired. And I was thinking about what else I still needed to get!” Stiles says, before taking another deep breath. “I told them two years without thinking. It was too late to correct them and basically, they think we’re dating.”
His friends share another look. Stiles might strangle them one by one. Then Allison leans across his desk and pats his hand gently. “It’s okay, Stiles. What did Derek say when you told him?”
Stiles presses his lips together.
“Stilinski, you did tell him, right?” Malia asks, narrowing her eyes. “My cousin should know if there’s a rumour about him going around.”
“I didn’t,” Stiles mumbles.
“And what do you think will happen if someone asks him about his boyfriend?” Lydia asks, raising her eyebrows.
Danny laughs quietly before saying, “I can picture it now. Derek, annoyed, saying that they’re not dating. The next rumours we’ll hear will be that Derek and Stiles broke up.”
“Oh man, and then people will start telling Derek they’re sorry about the breakup,” Malia continues, jumping on board with the idea. Stiles stares up at the ceiling. How is this his life?
“And then Derek will say that he and Stiles are fine,” Danny says. “And we’ll be right back to square one and people will think they’re dating again.”
“This might be fun,” Malia decides. “So, Stilinski, what are you going to do?”
“Build a time machine to go back and lock my office door,” Stiles mumbles. He covers his face with his hands and groans. “It’s too weird! Derek will probably want nothing to do with me if he thinks that people think we’re together and--”
“You won’t know unless you talk to him,” Lydia interrupts. She stands up from the chair. “Now, I’ve got to go, but Allison, please tell Stiles all the ways this will blow up in his face if he doesn’t tell Derek himself.”
“Ugh!”
“Will do, Lyds. Have a good training session,” Allison tells her.
“Can everyone leave now?” Stiles mumbles through his hands.
“Sure, but I’m going to see if Cora and Laura have heard about this rumour...” Malia says in a singsong voice. “Oh! And Kira. She’ll get a kick out of this.”
“Evil, evil woman!” Stiles calls out after her. Danny gives him a wink before he leaves and shuts the door behind him. Allison takes the chair Lydia had been sitting in moments ago. “It was a dumb misunderstanding. I don’t know how to tell Derek that I did this.”
“Well,” Allison says, glancing down at her manicured nails. Her eyes flick up towards him again. “You should tell him because if your dad hears about this...”
“Oh my god,” Stiles whispers. “My dad will kill him.”
Allison smiles. “I think that’s all the convincing you need, don’t you?”
“I’m going to be taking a half day today,” Stiles says, nodding. He stands up; his hands are shaking a little, but... “How fast can rumours get around in Beacon Hills anyway?”
Allison doesn’t reply, and Stiles doesn’t wait for her to. He rushes out the office door and ignores the way Malia and Danny laugh.
☆ ☾ ☆
He doesn’t even make it to Derek’s loft before his phone starts vibrating and Erica is sending him angry messages that she had to find out that Derek and Stiles are dating through Laura. Stiles will have to make it up to her another time. Kira sends him a message saying that she’s sorry he’s in this predicament, but Derek will understand.
Stiles shoves his phone into his jeans and bounces up the stairs. He comes to a halt in the hallway when he sees Derek and his dad talking. “Oh my god.”
“Son!” his father says, holding out a hand. Stiles stumbles forward and embraces him. “I was just inviting you and your boyfriend to dinner at our place on Sunday.”
“You...you were?” Stiles asks, eyes wide. “And uh, what did Derek say?”
“He said you’ll be there,” Stiles’ father says. He claps Stiles on the shoulder. “But don’t worry, I’m going to ask Melissa to cook. Anyway, I was in the area, but I’m still on duty so I should be getting back to the precinct. I’ll see you boys later.”
Stiles doesn’t have any words as his father and Derek share a hug. He watches his dad head toward the stairs. When he’s out of sight, Stiles turns towards Derek. His jaw is still dropped.
“Why does your father think we’re dating?” Derek asks, tilting his head slightly.
“Uhh...” Stiles swallows.
Derek holds his cell phone out to Stiles. “And why do I have so many messages about it?”
“Uhh...” Stiles looks down at Derek’s phone’s screen. He cringes. Damn. “I came here to talk to you about that.”
“It’s been a weird week,” Derek mumbles. He pockets his cell phone. “Come in.”
Stiles does and he wonders if Derek can smell the fear on him. Once, a long time ago, Derek commented that Stiles had gone from constantly smelling like fear and a hormonal, well-masturbated teenage boy to exhaustion and annoyance. He has no idea what he smells like to Derek these days, but he hopes it’s better than the past.
“Stiles, there’s no reason to be afraid,” Derek says, waving his hand dismissively. “I brewed us tea.”
“How--”
“Malia told me you were coming over,” Derek replies. “After she called me to see if I was holding up okay with the, uh, rumours.”
Stiles is going to kill Malia. She’s such a brat. Although, he can’t blame her too much. Stiles had interfered when she was trying to date Kira. It’s not his fault he thought Kira was interested in Jackson. The two of them are always together. And Stiles still has no idea why Kira went to Jackson for advice on Malia anyway.
“Yeah, about that...”
“It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”
Stiles meets Derek’s eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, uh, about a month ago, I ran into Coach Finstock,” Derek starts. He pushes a mug of tea towards Stiles. “He offered me an assistant coach position with a guarantee that I’ll be the next coach after he retires.”
Stiles’ lips part. “You never told me that.”
“I know. I wasn’t even considering taking it, really. I went back to school to finish my degree and I was going to...” Derek shrugs. “I took Sports History as an elective and it was the most fun I’ve had in the last four years. I miss playing baseball and lacrosse. And I know I could’ve joined the town’s league, but...then I broke my wrist fighting that kanima two years ago. And I don’t know. It didn’t heal properly.”
“Stupid witch,” Stiles mumbles. “Our team of witches are still trying to reverse that potion she gave you. But she was the strongest of them and--”
“Stiles,” Derek says, his voice quiet. “I know. It’s okay. The point is, I’m not considering the coaching job. I called Finstock yesterday and accepted.”
“Oh my god, congratulations!” Stiles claps his hands together. “We should go out for dinner tonight to celebrate!”
“Stiles,” Derek says again. Stiles deflates. “When Finstock was trying to convince me to take the job about three weeks ago, he asked me if I was seeing anyone. I wasn’t really thinking, and I kind of thought he asked me if I could see anyone, so I said your name. Because you were making popcorn.”
“Wait, what.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It got out of hand. He was so happy that we had finally gotten together and told me he was always rooting for us. And then he moved onto the conversation about the job and... I didn’t know how to correct him,” Derek continues. He shrugs. “And then when I accepted the job yesterday, he said he wants to take us out to dinner this Friday to celebrate.”
“Oh,” Stiles says. He starts laughing, and Derek looks mortified. But he can’t stop himself. “Oh my god, wow. Okay. You’re never going to believe what I did.”
“Wait, aren’t we going to talk about--”
Stiles holds up his hand. “Just...just let me tell you about how I told Caitlin that we’ve been together for two years.”
“You did what?”
Stiles quickly fills Derek in on his dumb moment while he was grocery shopping last week. “Anyway, I guess Caitlin and Heather got back from visiting Caitlin’s mom and have mentioned it to a few people.”
Derek stares at Stiles. He has no idea what Derek’s thinking right now, but he’s not too worried.
“What are we going to do?” Derek finally asks.
“I don’t know,” Stiles answers with a shrug. “I’ll come with you to Coach’s dinner on Friday. We’ll pretend we’re a couple and then when you start working, you can say we broke up. It’ll be fine.”
“Uh...” Derek sighs. “Yeah, okay. What does the pack think?”
“They know I fucked up,” Stiles tells him.
They sit in silence for a moment and then Derek says, “Oh god, what are we going to tell your dad?”
“Oh fuck. I forgot about that.” Stiles whistles. “We’re so screwed.”
☆ ☾ ☆
When Friday rolls around, Stiles gets ready at Derek’s loft. He’s been avoiding spending a lot of time at home because his father has tried to be supportive of his relationship with Derek. It’s the exact opposite reaction that Stiles and Derek had expected. Not that Derek and the Sheriff aren’t on good terms these days, because they are, but Derek and Stiles dating is a whole different ballpark.
“Stiles! I’m sure you look fine, come on! We’re going to be late!”
“Don’t get your boxers in a twist,” Stiles calls back down.
“I’m not wearing any!”
Stiles freezes at that response. Then he laughs and tries to shake it off. Derek’s just being a dick. When he comes downstairs, he smiles at his friend. Not his boyfriend. His friend. This night is going to be long.
“Alright, so the rules are, we pretend we’re dating,” Stiles says for the fifth time that day. “Hand-holding is okay. Being close is okay. No kissing. We’ve been dating for two years but have only recently become public with this news. Our first date was at the fair and--”
“I thought we agreed it was at the aquarium?” Derek interrupts.
“No, no, definitely said the fair. It’s way cuter. We can have Ferris wheel kisses. Besides, it’s coming up next month, and it’ll be our supposed two-year anniversary.” Stiles steps forward and adjusts the collar of Derek’s shirt under his burgundy sweater. “You clean up nice, Hale.”
“So do you, Stilinski.”
There’s a moment, and Stiles tries not to mistake it for heat. But damn, sometimes he wonders if Derek feels the tug like he does. He could so easily press his lips to Derek’s right now, but he won’t. Because Derek does not see him like that. He never has and probably never will.
“Alright, let’s go wow the socks off Coach Finstock,” Stiles says, with a tight smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes; he hopes Derek doesn’t notice. “Think he’ll still yell at me?”
Derek laughs and slips his hand into Stiles’. It feels so natural, he doesn’t question it until Derek says, “For practice. We have been doing this for two years, apparently.”
“Right.”
☆ ☾ ☆
Dinner with Coach Finstock goes by smoothly. So smoothly that Stiles can’t stop smiling. He and Derek had been on fire. They answered Finstock’s surprisingly nosy questions with ease, had finished each other’s sentences, had laughed at the same inside jokes, and had told Finstock silly stories about their relationship without stumbling once. It had helped that they held hands the entire time too.
And when Derek pulls in front of Stiles’ dad’s house, he doesn’t want the night to end.
“Can I crash at your place again tonight?”
“Sure, but you’ll have to share my bed. I’m tired of hearing you complain about the springs on the couch digging into your back,” Derek says, pulling back onto the road.
Stiles smiles and gazes out the window. “Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”
☆ ☾ ☆
“I think you should tell your dad we’re not dating,” Derek tells Stiles. They’re standing outside the front door. Derek had asked Stiles for his help to make sugar-free brownies. “I mean...”
The front door swings open. “I thought I heard you two! Come in.”
Derek motions for Stiles to walk into the house first. He’s been avoiding his father, and he knows he could have simply told him that they weren’t dating. But it was so nice to have his dad’s support that Stiles hadn’t been ready to break the spell quite yet. And really, what’s one more person thinking they’re dating?
“Melissa had to work tonight, but she left us a wonderful meal to heat up. I’ll get started on that. Why don’t you grab some water from the fridge?” Stiles’ dad says.
“Sure thing, Dad.”
“I appreciate you and Melissa going all out for us tonight, Sheriff,” Derek says, smiling.
Stiles tunes them out as he opens the fridge for the Britta jug. His eyes widen as they land on a very rainbow-frosted cake. Oh no. There’s no way he can tell his dad now. There’s just no way. Stiles pours them water on the table and says, “Derek, can you put this back in the fridge?”
Derek doesn’t seem to question it. But when his eyes land on the cake, he whips around to give Stiles an alarmed expression.
“Stiles,” Derek says, his voice tight. “Could you show me where the washroom is, I’ve seemed to forgotten.”
“Oh, no need to be coy, Derek,” Stiles’ dad says. “Melissa told me to warm everything up in the oven, so why don’t you two wait in the living room while I do this?”
Derek jerks his head toward the living room. Stiles huffs and follows. Once they’re far enough away from the kitchen, Derek puts his hands on Stiles’ arms. “We can’t break your father’s heart. I won’t do it.”
“Oh, thank god,” Stiles whispers. He relaxes in Derek’s grip. “I told you! He’s been super supportive all week long. I have no idea how to tell him that it’s one big misunderstanding.”
“He’s a good man,” Derek murmurs. “I don’t want to disappoint him since he bought a cake. When we break up for Finstock, we also break up for your father.”
Stiles lets out a small laugh, stepping forward to rest his head against Derek’s chest. “This is wild.”
“Yeah, I’ll say.” Derek wraps his arms around Stiles.
Back when they were in high school with each other, they wouldn’t have ever dared to be this close. Stiles would have assumed it was because Derek thought he was a lame junior when he was a cool senior. But these days, he knows that getting close to someone isn’t easy for Derek. He’s grateful he’s one of the few who get to experience Derek’s hugs.
“Aren’t you two sweet?” Stiles’ father’s voice comes a while later. Stiles isn’t entirely sure how long they stood there like that, but he’s happy they did. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Awesome! I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving,” Derek teases. Their hands find each other, and through most of the dinner, Derek keeps his left hand on Stiles’ knee. It’s comforting. It’s safe. It’s home.
☆ ☾ ☆
“I guess we should break up this week,” Derek tells him one night when he gets back from the office. Stiles rubs his temples and scrunches his nose. Breaking up a fake relationship is the last thing on his mind. Derek gets up to wrap his arms around Stiles and rub his back. “What’s wrong?”
“Ugh, just... the office was insane today. A siren has been seducing some terrible men to their deaths and...” Stiles rests his head against Derek’s chest. This might be one of his favourite things to do. “Well, the office in Sydney was having a rough time with the local authorities and... anyway, I was up most of last night dealing with it because of the time difference. I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“Well, why don’t you lay down and I’ll make you something?” Derek offers.
“No offence, dude, but your cooking skills aren’t exactly up to par,” Stiles teases. He closes his eyes. The last twenty-four hours fade from his mind.
“I think I can manage some fries and a grilled cheese sandwich. Don’t you?” Derek asks, and Stiles can hear the smile in his voice. He pulls back to see it with his own eyes. Ah, yeah. It’s beautiful.
“Yeah, you can probably handle that. Can we break up another day?” Stiles asks.
“Sure,” Derek replies.
Stiles makes his way up the stairs to Derek’s bed. After years of bitching about the couch, which isn’t actually that bad, Stiles has finally been upgraded to sleep on the bed. He sprawls across it at first, but then he rolls his face into Derek’s pillow and curls up.
Derek is his favourite smell. Not that he’ll ever admit that to anyone. Ever. But here, alone in Derek’s bed, he can let himself indulge.
☆ ☾ ☆
Stiles rubs his face. The last two days have been absolute hell. Finally, Danny figured out a solution to Australia’s siren issue. But Stiles feels like there’s been a massive influx of supernatural creatures acting out. England’s office is dealing with a snooty vampire who thinks that if he kills the prime minister, everything will be better for the humans. And frankly, he’s probably right. But it goes against their mission statement.
Scotland’s two offices have separate witch problems. Russia’s dealing with some werewolf hunters again. And India’s offices have lost track of one of their warlocks.
And Stiles has to find resources and send his best people out to help consult on their issues. He knows that he signed up for this when he agreed to help Lydia and Danny, but... he’s exhausted.
His office door swings open. “Stiles, what is going on? Are you okay?”
Stiles swings his chair around. “Scott, holy hell, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. How are you?”
“I’m fine, but Lydia told me that you needed me.”
Stiles sees Lydia hovering not too far from his office door. She gives him the slightest nod before walking out of sight. He motions for Scott to shut the door. “I didn’t realize it, but actually, yeah. I do need you. Listen, things have been intense lately, and I need you to work some of your True Alpha McCall magic for me.”
“Aw, damn. Stiles, you know I didn’t want to get tied up in this business. You know I love you and the others, but... I just want to be my vet and protect my pack,” Scott says. He sits down and studies Stiles. “What’s the issue?”
“There are some werewolves fighting over property lines in Ireland. They keep attacking each other. I guess one of the pack member's daughter went missing and blamed the other pack and somehow, that’s boiled down to property lines. But the office out there doesn’t have any Alphas, and you know they’ll listen to you better.” Stiles lets out a breath and runs his hands through his hair. “It’s been an all-hands-on-deck kind of week so far. Erica and Boyd are in Egypt. Malia is out in Texas. Allison is on a flight to Russia. Cora is down south, Laura is in Alaska. Jackson agreed to go to England to deal with a lunatic vampire. I know that Isaac can run the vet office for you while you’re gone. I just... I need you, man.”
Scott nods. “Yeah, why the hell not? So, the last time we talked, you and Derek were going to have your fake breakup this week. Has that happened yet?”
Stiles blinks. He pages his assistant and asks her to plan Scott’s trip. Then he sighs heavily. “No. I’ve been putting it off, honestly. Work has been nuts and...”
“And you’re in love with him.”
“What? No! That’s ridiculous! Why would you say ... something so true?” Stiles groans and rests his forehead on his desk. He mumbles, “Is it obvious?”
“Nah. I just know you. Besides, you’ve been in love with him since you were sixteen and he told you that you better never touch his textbook again without permission and you poked his chest to rile him up,” Scott answers. “I’m not always oblivious, you know. So, what are you going to do?”
“Nothing,” Stiles mumbles. “He obviously doesn’t feel the same way. He’s brought up the break up twice now.”
“Well, it’s a fake relationship,” Scott points out. “Breaking up was always part of the plan, right?”
“Yeah.” Stiles lifts his head off the desk to look at his best friend. “Does everyone judge us? For pretending to date for a little while?”
“Uh, actually...” Scott rubs the back of his neck. “Honestly, I think some people think you guys aren’t pretending anymore.”
“What? How could they think that?”
“For starters, at the last Pack Night, you two held hands throughout the entire movie,” Scott says. “And you smell so much like each other. It’s as if you’re sleeping in the same bed or something.”
“Uh.”
“Wait, are you sleeping in the same bed?” Scott asks.
“Yeah. But it’s only because his couch is uncomfortable and I’ve been avoiding my dad!”
“I have no words, dude.” Scott shakes his head. “Dammit. Erica is going to win the bet.”
“Bet?”
“Yeah, she bet that you two would just stay dating and make it into a real relationship.”
“And you bet?” Stiles prompts.
“That you guys would break it off and drag your feet some more.”
“Dude! No faith!”
But Stiles feels lighter than he has in a while. Maybe not all hope is lost.
☆ ☾ ☆
When the week from hell finally comes to an end, Stiles lets himself into Derek’s loft. He knows that Derek is out training with Finstock tonight, so he simply makes himself at home. He crawls into Derek’s bed, closes his eyes, and lets sleep wash over him.
Stiles barely wakes when Derek climbs into bed with him later that night. He rolls over to cuddle into Derek and falls back to sleep feeling safe and warm.
☆ ☾ ☆
“What if we don’t break up?”
Stiles drops the pepper in his hands and spins around to look at Derek. They had agreed to tell Finstock and Stiles’ dad that they broke up at the end of this week. They had had an entire conversation about it. But now, Stiles is staring at Derek with utter confusion.
He doesn’t know what to make of it.
“We don’t break up,” Stiles murmurs. “And we pretend to be in a relationship for how long?”
Derek doesn’t say anything. Stiles picks up his dropped pepper and washes it under the tap. He sets it down on his cutting board before he turns back to Derek again. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend for real?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Stiles sputters.
“I mean...” Derek gets up from the couch and walks over to Stiles. He reaches for Stiles’ hands, and takes them into his. “I like when you’re around. I like that you enjoy cooking for me. I like holding your hands and talking about my boyfriend. I like crawling into bed with you on the other side.”
“That’s not really a reason to date someone, Derek. Those are things you could do with anyone.”
“I know. But I like doing them with you.” Derek gives his hands a gentle squeeze. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Stiles. And only recently did it even cross my mind that, maybe, I don’t know, you feel the same about me?”
Stiles’ lips part.
“You didn’t know?” Stiles whispers. “But I thought you could sense my emotions. I mean, I’m so stupid in love with you, Derek. How could you not know that?”
Derek shrugs. “We had rules about me seeking out your emotions. And I... I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m the best werewolf at smelling love.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“What?”
“This means that Scott lost the bet.” Stiles lets out a small laugh. “He’s going to be so mad.”
“We’re not breaking up then?” Derek asks.
“Nah. I think we should celebrate with some champagne and a home-cooked meal and--”
Derek presses his lips softly against Stiles’s.
“And kissing. Lots and lots of kissing,” Stiles murmurs, before pulling his hands from Derek’s grip to wrap them around his neck. “Hi, boyfriend.”
“Hi.”
☆ ☾ ☆
“Hi, you’ve reached Derek--”
“--and Stiles--”
“--please leave a message after the beep.”
“Because we live together now! Beeeeep!”
“Stiles!”
Beeep!
“Stilinski! I’m calling to say thank you for letting me win the bet,” Erica’s voice rings throughout the living room.
Stiles pushes Derek down on the couch, kissing him deeply. Derek grunts, pulling away. “This couch is horrible. How did you ever sleep on this?”
“Jackson’s also been a little smug because he called this happening the second we heard that you told Caitlin you two were dating. Anyway, Boyd and I are on our way home. We expect a double date when you two quit screening your calls and come up for air. Love you!”
“It was worth it,” Stiles whispers. He presses his lips to Derek’s neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
☆ ☾ ☆
Their first date is at the Beacon Hills fair, and they spend the entire Ferris wheel ride making out.
☆ ☾ ☆