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Erica is the last one to leave, a smile on her face and a bounce in her step as she presses a kiss to his cheeks, then Derek's.
"Have fun," Derek tells her with a smile of his own, small but genuine and utterly captivating.
"I will!" A high-pitch squeal follows that declaration, and then she's leaving, heels tapping against the wooden floor of the front porch of the Hale House. Both of them watch her leave in her hard-earned Mustang, a dark, deep green color that suits her now tamer personality. To Stiles she'll always be the firecracker she was at sixteen, but they're older now, more mature and more settled in their own bodies. But she'll always be his Catwoman, no matter what.
Even if she'll no longer be Erica Reyes.
"Boyd's going to love tonight," he says, aware of Derek beside him. They're standing close, touching from shoulders to their elbows. Derek's hands are perched on the railings while his are crossed over his own chest. It's a role reversal—and he can't even begin to articulate how he feels about that.
Derek's been opening up more, recently. He smiles more and laughs more, eyes crinkling shut and mouth falling open, cheeks turning a pretty pink in the December cold. He's beautiful from the outside and Stiles is beginning to see the outpouring of his beautiful soul outside, too. It's like everything he's forever known about Derek is now out in the open, ready to be seen and heard and touched, not sacred anymore to late night conversations where Derek would rap on his windowsill and he'll let him in.
Stiles is scared he'll lose Derek. He's scared and sorrowful of all the things he's going to lose now that Derek is vulnerable. It's a good thing, actually, but for Stiles it's a nightmare—who is he to Derek, if he's not the only one Derek would really talk to?
He's noone.
He's just trying to protect his heart.
"I think he knows," Derek replies. Stiles turns to look at him, frowning.
"What do you mean? She's been so careful. Everyone has been."
Derek turns to look at him, Stiles' eyes rising from the taut, tempting flesh of Derek's neck when he explains, "Boyd isn't stupid. And Jackson's excuse was mediocre at best; I'm sure that Boyd, at the very least, suspects something."
Jackson truly does have awful acting skills: for someone who claims to be emotionless, he more often than not lets his emotions ruin the good kinds of surprises. Like today, just a few minutes before Erica left, when he seemed just a little too excited to go to the mechanic because "Some kid scratched my car."—There were better ways to keep Boyd busy for the day, but nope. And then there's the fact that—
"Erica's not a subtle person," he says and Derek nods. "But he hasn't said anything. Has he said anything to you?"
"He wouldn't do that. He loves Erica. Boyd isn't going to let it slip that he knows she's going to propose tonight at their date night because he can't bear to see her get sad."
"True. Love's all about working hard to turn that frown upside down on your favorite person."
They both look away from each other at the same time, even though Stiles doesn't want to. He never wants to stop looking at Derek. But he does anyways, because Derek's not his and he's got no right.
He tries to think of an excuse to stay, but there aren't any—he came back from college for Christmas Vacation, and he's already spent the previous day catching up with Derek and Peter on the happenings in Beacon Hills. He's spent more time, actually, with the pack than he has with his dad—who doesn't really mind because he has Natalie Martin to keep him company—and he thinks, maybe, he should go home and spend some much needed time with his old man today.
He turns to tell Derek he's going home, but Derek's already gone, the main door left open for him to enter. Or—for Derek to come back out, Stiles' backpack in his hands. Stiles accepts it with a very confused, "Thank you?" Maybe it's Derek's way of saying he should go and spend some time with his dad. Huh.
"You're very welcome." Derek says politely with a smile, bunny teeth on full display, and Stiles just about melts on the spot. Derek genuinely smiling will never stop being a novelty to him.
They stare at each other for a moment before Stiles thinks to shoulder his backpack, careful with it because his laptop is inside. Derek watches him, eyes fixed somewhere between his chest and neck, and he blushes. It's no secret to the pack that Derek likes guys, too, and Stiles has grown enough in himself in the past year to realize that he himself is no less good looking than the literal models in his pack. So, theoretically, it's possible that Derek is attracted to him—and it would have been a wonderful thought had Stiles been sixteen still. But he's not, and it's not.
There's a not-very-fine line between wanting to touch someone everywhere and wanting to smother them with kisses everywhere because they deserve all the love in the world, and Stiles crossed it sometime ago; he hasn't looked back since.
Though it doesn't mean that he isn't aroused and elated at the prospect of Derek finding him hot. It's just that he's more—sad. Sex with Derek would be amazing, only now he isn't really ready to face the dawning of truth that would come after.
"You always do that," Derek says, and Stiles realizes that it's been a while since he was paying attention to Derek. Derek's looking directly at him now, forest-gold eyes open and earnest as they look into brown ones. Stiles almost confesses what he was thinking just moments before.
Instead he asks, "I always do what?"
"You always smell sad after I—well, check you out. But before that, for a brief moment, you smell aroused. I never understand why you get sad after though. It's—confusing."
"Oh." His cheeks flush, blood rushing to them as his embarrassement at getting called out rises with his pulse. "That's—that's nothing, you don't need to worry about it! Okay, I gotta go, bye!"
He rushes down the stairs, almost tripping over the last one, but thankfully he catches himself in time. Perks of having fought alongside his Pack as the "human", he thinks distantly. He's almost to his Jeep when Derek says something. Something so shattering it shatters his momentum.
"I have a date today," Derek says casually, like Stiles wasn't just running away and that those words don't make him want to sit still and cry.
"Good for you," he mumbles, not even sure if Derek heard, and starts walking again. Fast walking, because he needs to—he can't be here. He's happy Derek's found someone to go on a date with, he deserves to be happy afterall. And while love doesn't equal life being complete, Stiles knows how much of a romantic Derek is, and how much a partnership like that—joined by heart, body and soul—would mean to him. So he's happy for Derek.
He just can't be here.
But then Derek says, "Good for us," and Stiles is stopping again, body registering the words before his brain can process them. "I'll pick you up at 6. Today. Does that work for you?"
He turns around slowly, eyes laser focused on Derek's confident form standing on the porch. "Tell me you're not joking."
"I'm not joking, Stiles," Derek rolls his eyes like the notion of Derek asking Stiles out is not ridiculous, but Stiles questioning it is. "So? Will you be free at 6?"
Stiles wants to confirm, and then confirm again that this is not a joke, but he knows a Derek who's a 100% in for something and this is exactly that Derek. Taking charge of the situation like the Alpha he is. So instead he says, "I'm free now," and finally unfreezes as Derek's sweet laughter floats between them.
"I'd love for you to never leave," Stiles blushes at the words, "But I need time to prepare for our date."
"You're going to make us dinner, aren't you?"
Derek rubs the back of his neck and doesn't answer, the dork. Stiles smiles at him, soft and sharp all at once.
"You're adorable," he says, and loves the way Derek blushes. Tit for tat, sweetheart.
"M'not. I'm the Alpha," he puffs out his chest, and Stiles laughs. His statement stands: adorable.
Stiles nods, says, "I'll be ready by 6 then," and opens his Jeep only to put his backpack in the passenger seat. Then he turns towards Derek once more and asks, "Why now? Why ask me today?"
Derek looks out beyond the trees that surround the driveway of the place, and Stiles follows his gaze. The skid marks from Erica's car are still visible—she's never been subtle at anything in her life, and Stiles loves calling her his friend, his packmate—dark and almost permanent, thanks to the amount of times she's driven along the same path.
Derek finally answers, "I didn't want you to be sad anymore."
Stiles breaks out into a huge smile and runs back up the steps, onto the porch until he's smothering Derek with his hug. Derek's chuckling right into his ears and this is their best hug yet. They both rock with the force of the hug, both of them warm from the presence of each other.
Stiles, reluctantly, pulls back. Derek whines at the loss, but with his fingers carding through Derek's hair, the whine turns into an appreciative moan. "I need to go," he says.
"I thought that was just a cover up," Derek replies, eyes closed in contentment. Gosh, he's beautiful like this, all relaxed and sweet and sublime under Stiles' hands.
Stiles reins himself back in control, promises himself he'll get to touch and see what Derek feels like under the ministrations of his other body parts in the evening. Or maybe later, whenever Derek wants. He licks his lips and says, honest, "It was, at the time." Derek peeks one eye open, demanding an answer without using his words. "I'll tell you. Later. And about me wanting to go... I have some squeals to release. Can't it do it around sensitive werewolf ears now, can I?"
Derek's whole body shakes with his laugh, making Stiles' hands fall from him. "Go, then," Derek says when he's got himself under control, Stiles grinning like an idiot the whole time. "I have stuff to do as well."
"Which is why you were the one who wanted me to leave. You're such a sap,"
"I think you mean romantic."
"Nope, I totally mean sap."
Derek shakes his head. "Can't believe I like you,"
Stiles' heart skips a beat at the confession, and it's silly that it does because he'd known it already. But to hear it is... a confirmation, and Stiles can do with some confirmation in his uncertain, sort-of vigilante-esque life.
He presses closer and kisses Derek's cheek before he's leaving again, and as Stiles pulls away from the Hale House and Derek, who's waving bye adorably—Alpha or not, Derek Hale is absolutely, 100% adorable—in the rearview mirror, he can't help but think that today's going to be a lovely day, pun definitely intended.
And then he hopes he didn't just jinx himself and Erica.
(He didn't. Their respective dates go smoothly—by the next morning Erica and Boyd are engaged to be married, and Stiles knows exactly how much his Alpha loves to lose control when he's losing control because of Stiles.
It's a wonderful night).