Stiles never wanted this to happen, and if he's being honest, he doesn't know how it actually did. It was a colossal mess and a terrible waste of his time. And he was an idiot for thinking that it would ever go anywhere. Because, captain of the basketball team who was also the star of the BHH lacrosse team and Stiles? Skinny, scrawny, literally not a pound of muscle on him, Stiles? Yeah, he was an idiot.
His biggest mistake was probably getting detention in Mr. Harris's class, although that wasn't exactly his fault because the guy was just a giant dick and had a serious vendetta against Stiles, but mostly he was just a giant dick. If he hadn't gotten detention than he never would have been seated next to Derek Hale.
He had said the first thing that came to his mind. "What are you in for?" He'd cringed almost immediately after saying it, but the corners of Derek's mouth had turned up and his forehead creased with laugh lines and Stiles just counted it as a win.
They hadn't talked much during their shared detention, unless it was to bitch about Mr. Harris when he left the room. There had been many glances at the other as they shared dopey smiles and sported flushed cheeks. Stiles still can't decide if he should have been surprised, or seen it coming from a mile away when they got out to the parking lot and Derek followed him to his jeep.
Derek pushed him up against it roughly, before warm lips captured his in a kiss that was all teeth and too much tongue. He'd only kissed one other person, and he didn't think it counted because it had been Scott and they'd been in seventh grade. What? Bros kiss each other for experimentation, it's a thing that happens. Regularly.
But this kiss? It was different. It was sexual. And no, Stiles wasn't making that up, he was making this assumption based on the fact that Derek started squeezing him through his jeans as Stiles whimpered into his mouth. He'd be embarrassed about it later, because right now Derek Hale's hand was on his dick, albeit through his jeans. Whatever, semantics man.
Derek pulled away, only to latch onto the skin of his throat and suck wetly. Stiles' hips thrusted forward involuntarily and he was rewarded with a moan reverberating through his neck and teeth nipping at his skin. His dick twitched in his pants as Derek's free hand ghosted up his side and landed on the exposed skin of his forearm. His fingertips seemed to be the match lighting his skin on fire as they traced patterns into his skin.
Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and tugged him impossibly closer. He licked at the skin behind Derek's ear and could hear the labored breathing coming from the other boy. His fingers wound themselves into Derek's hair and he scratched his nails down his scalp, eliciting a sharp whine of pleasure from Derek.
His orgasm snuck up on him and he came with groan of Derek's name. There was an answering whine and Derek stilled completely. Stiles realized in his post-orgasm haze that he'd just made Derek blow his load, without touching him, and couldn't help the goofy grin that threatened to break his face.
Derek stood there with his face buried in Stiles' neck for what seemed like forever while Stiles stroked the hairs at the nape of his neck, his body loose from the first time he got off with someone who wasn't himself. It felt great. Finally though, Derek pulled back. His face was content and his eyes soft as he stared back at Stiles.
"So," Stiles said, a nervous chuckle passing through his lips. "That's a thing that happened. Between us. In the middle of the school parking lot."
Derek only smiled and nodded his head in response. "I've got to get home, my mom's going to be royally pissed if I'm not home in time for dinner again."
Stiles couldn't help the pang of sadness that went through him. It had been awhile since someone had been waiting for him with dinner on the table, and even longer since he'd gotten in trouble for being late to dinner. He nodded his head and started to move, when Derek's arm shot out and stopped him. He pressed a brief kiss to his lips, nothing like before. This was chaste and felt more like a goodbye kiss that couples give to each other. But one hand-job hidden behind a jeep didn't mean they were boyfriends, did it?
He was left standing in a daze as he watched Derek jog over to his car parked on the other end of the lot. He stood there until Derek had peeled out of the school and left a cloud of dust behind him. This had to be the weirdest thing to happen to him all week.
The semi-hand job had happened on a Thursday. Which meant the next day was Friday. And Stiles had to see Derek again. That was totally fine, though. He'd be able to keep a level head, he wouldn't make things awkward. He just wouldn't. He could do casual, one time hook-ups with the hottest guy in school. No problem.
Yeah, he was totally fucked.
Scott was waiting for him at the kitchen table, shoveling spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth as he scanned his phone with his free hand. "Don't you have your own food to eat?" he asked, relishing in the way Scott jumped, barely saving his phone from a milky death.
"Of course I do," Scott said, scrunching his face in disgust. "It's just not as good as yours. How was detention?"
Stiles fought hard to keep the blush creeping up his neck at bay. It was useless. He was sure his face was screaming, it was fine, after an hour and a half of hell me and Derek Hale got our rocks off behind my jeep, but he answered with, "You know, detentiony. Derek Hale was in with me."
Scott quirked his head at that and asked, "Derek? What'd he do?"
"We never actually got around to that part." We were too busy jerking it. "He's actually pretty funny. He does a great impersonation of Mr. Dickhead."
"You actually talked to him?" Scott asked, picking his bowl up and dumping it in the sink. "He seems so, I don't know, cool."
"Really, what are we? Kindergartners? He was pretty nice, funny mostly." Stiles fought hard to keep the smile off his face when he thought about the way Derek had latched onto his neck and nipped at his throat. Too late. "Come on, Scotty, we're gonna be late."
He kept his cool the whole drive to school. He could do this, he was a grown-ass man. (Sort of.) And then they pulled in and Derek's car was parked a few spaces down from his and he panicked, because he totally could not fucking do this. Scott was talking beside him, something about Alison's hair probably, but he couldn't pay attention. He was too busy worrying about what was going to happen when he crossed paths with Derek. Would he ignore him and pretend like nothing happened? Would he say hey and invite him to sit at his table? Stiles spent most of the day worrying and making himself feel physically sick.
When he finally did bump into Derek, it was in the locker room at the end of the day. It was completely cleared out and he had only come in to grab his gym bag to take home with him. He'd just closed his locker, only to find Derek leaning behind it. He started, and then offered an awkward wave. "I- How Did- Hi," he said simply. Derek cocked his head when Stiles continued with, "Did you make it home in time for dinner last night?" And he could have kicked himself in the face.
It seemed Derek had other plans for his face though, namely devouring it with his lips. Stiles was backed up into the row of lockers gently, before Derek's arms came up to bracket his head in. And why had he been so worried about today again? He brought his hands up to rest tentatively on Derek's hips, and smiled into the kiss when Derek leaned into the touch.
They pulled apart, but Derek didn't go far since he started mouthing at Stiles' jaw. "I ran a red light", he whispered. "I was thinking about this guy I'd just gotten off at school, I barely made it home."
Stiles felt his entire body shudder and he slipped the tips of his fingers under the hem of Derek's shirt. "H-h-he must be a pretty great guy if he made you run a red light." Stiles had no idea what he was doing.
"He is," Derek said, before he slid his tongue down the column of Stiles' throat and then nipped at his shoulder. "The noises he makes? I could never get tired of them. And God, you should see his face when he comes."
Stiles could feel his knees going weak, knew that if it weren't for Derek he'd be a melted pile of nothing on the floor. "He sounds pretty awesome," he said breathlessly.
"I'd kind of like to blow his brains out through his dick," Derek whispered into the skin behind his ear.
Stiles couldn't help but whine at that. "I think He'd- That's totally a- God, yes!" There was a soft chuckle from Derek, before he slid to his knees and looked up at Stiles through his eyelashes. His eyes were blown wide and dark and Stiles could have shot his load from just looking at him.
Derek teased the button on his jeans before flipping it open with a flick of his wrist. He tugged them down to pool at his feet and then mouthed at his obvious erection through his boxers. God, when did his life become the most clichéd porno? Not that he was complaining, because he wasn't, but a blowjob? In the locker room?
And then his boxers were falling to join his jeans and coherent thought was just a myth. Derek's eyes locked with Stiles' as he licked a long stripe on the underside of his cock, stopping to lap at the head, before licking his way back up to the base. Stiles keened as he balled his hands into fists at his side. He slammed his head back against the lockers as Derek sucked the tip into his mouth and swirled his tongue around in lazy circles.
He squeezed his hands tighter and closed his eyes, not able to look at the intense concentration on Derek's face while he sucked Stiles' dick. Derek took him deeper before sliding back down and moaned around the heated flesh in his mouth. Stiles slammed his head again and let out a whine, although he didn't know if it was from pain or pleasure. Without warning, Derek took his whole cock to the back of his throat, his nose buried in the curly hairs at the base and sucked.
He whined when Derek slid off completely and opened his eyes to look down at him. Derek's face was flushed and his lips were red and swollen as he said, "You can- Just-" He took Stiles' hands and uncurled them, then placed them on top of his head. "It's okay," he said and sucked Stiles back down.
Stiles' fingers clenched in Derek's hair, not pulling, but gripping tightly. He watched as Derek's slow pace quickened and he reached a hand down to squeeze himself through his basketball shorts and Jesus, that was ridiculously hot. He could feel himself getting close when his stomach muscles clenched and his thighs tightened. He arched off the lockers and gasped Derek's name. He pushed at his shoulders with a frantic, "Derek, I'm gonna come," but he only sucked harder and moved faster.
He came down Derek's throat with a breathless shout of his name as his fingers dug into his scalp. He watched as Derek eagerly lapped at his dick, cleaning every last drop from it, before catching the dribble at of the corner of his mouth and sucking his thumb into his mouth.
Stiles groaned as he shoved himself back in his pants and Derek stood up. He noticed the obvious bulge in Derek's shorts and reached his hand out. "Is it okay if I....?"
Derek nodded and stepped closer, whispering in a hoarse voice, "You have some great ideas."
Stiles reached into Derek's pants, the lack of underwear did not escape his notice, and grabbed ahold of Derek's leaking cock. Derek leaned forward and started working an impressive hickey into his collarbone as he groaned and whined whenever Stiles squeezed tighter or moved his hand faster. He tried to think of everything he liked, and figured it must be working when Derek released the skin from his teeth to pant wetly into his neck.
It only took a few minutes and his hand was coated in sticky wetness as Derek breathed his name into his ear. Stiles was positive no one would be able to say his name like Derek, and he wasn't sure he wanted anyone to. He pulled out and Derek helpfully supplied his hoodie for him to wipe his hand on.
Derek crushed their lips together in a kiss that was mostly them breathing into each other's mouths as he wound an arm around his waist. "Didn't see you around today."
Stiles hummed and said, "I was around, you just missed me I guess." His legs had officially turned to jello and he clung to Derek like he was a man in the desert dying of thirst and Derek was the last watering hole.
"So listen-" Derek started, but Stiles cut him off before he could finish. He knew this was too good to be true and eventually whatever this was would end. He had just been hoping it would be later rather than sooner. Much later to be exact.
"Don't tell anyone?" Stiles finished for him. Derek's face went through variety of emotions before landing on a blank expression.
"I- That's not- If you-" He heaved a sigh and tightened his grip on Stiles' waist. "Yeah." His face continued on in a blank stare and Stiles swallowed hard.
"Do does that mean we can....?" he left the question hanging in the air, hoping that even though Derek didn't want anyone to know they could keep doing....Well, whatever this was.
Derek nodded his head and then buried his face in Stiles' shoulder, that was moment Stiles decided he wasn't going to come out of this without a shattered heart.
That went all of a day before Derek sent him a text Saturday night that said, my parents are out of town with the rest of the family, wanna hang out?
Stiles had sent an enthusiastic, yes! and grabbed his keys off his desk. His dad was on the night shift and wouldn't be home until at least eight the next morning so there was nothing more to do but lock the door behind himself.
Everyone knew where the Hale's lived. Talia was an amazing D.A. and Victor was known as a fair, but stern, judge. Their mansion was out on the reserve and just about every Hale within a hundred mile radius had lived there at one point in time. Stiles couldn't help the feeling of nostalgia as he drove up the long drive and the house slowly rolled into view. It was lonely with just himself in the Stilinksi's small house, he wondered just how awful it must be for Derek to be there by himself when the place was usually filled with various family members.
He parked the jeep next to Derek's Camaro and turned it off, taking a deep breath before shoving the door open and jogging up the porch steps. He'd barely knocked once and then Derek appeared, throwing the door open and grinning widely. He was standing in loose sweatpants and a tank top that had to be a size to small and Jesus, Stiles just wanted. "Hey," he squeaked out as he stepped through the door.
Derek wasted no time in grabbing Stiles by the waist and kissing him senseless. When they pulled away Derek asked, "Did you eat dinner?" When Stiles shook his head, Derek said, "Want to order in pizza?"
"Pizza sounds good," he said. Derek gave him one last hard kiss and disappeared into the kitchen. Stiles looked around, taking in the sweeping staircase and the living room to the side of it. He walked in, settling himself on the couch while he listened to Derek's smooth voice on the phone.
When Derek came back and sat on the couch, he left barely an inch between himself and Stiles. "Pizza will be here in about twenty minutes." His hand came to rest on Stiles' leg as he smiled softly. "What do we do till then?"
Stiles crawled over into his lap, feeling bold, and whispered into his ear, "I can think of a few things."
By the time the pizza came, Derek's lips were red and swollen and his shirt was rucked up to his chest. Stiles hair was going in several different directions and his jeans were unbuttoned and hanging low in his hips. "I'll get it," he said, breathless and closing his pants, and pushed off Derek's chest.
He opened the door and was greeted with an easy smile. The man was attractive, that was obvious, he just wasn't Stiles' type. He preferred dark hair, hazel eyes, and just barely there stubble. He liked a leather jackets and a black Camaro. The guy handed over the pizza and gave him the total. He cursed under his breath when he remembered Derek never gave him any money and the guy asked, "You out here all by yourself?"
As if thinking about him summoned him, Derek appeared shirtless (and Stiles distinctly remembers leaving him with a shirt on) and clutching a twenty in his hand. He handed it over and said, "No, he's not." Arms, bare arms, wrapped around his middle and he felt the soft prickle of stubble as it rubbed across the back of his neck. "Don't forget my change," Derek said off-handedly as he dropped small kisses to Stiles' shoulder.
The guy handed it back to him and gave an awkward nod. Stiles shut the door and snorted. "You know it's typical to tip the delivery guy, right?"
"Not when he hits on people's bo- He doesn't deserve a tip, now let's eat."
Stiles completely forgot to ask Derek what he was about to say once he got a piece of pizza in his mouth and remembered he hadn't eaten since breakfast. Derek pulled his shirt back on with a smirk, before turning the TV on. They ate in comfortable silence until the whole thing had been devoured and they were leaning back on the couch.
Derek smiled over at him and carefully grabbed Stiles' hand, "Come on," he whispered, "I'll show you my room."
They had barely made it through the door when Stiles had pounced on Derek like a cat after a mouse. He nibbled at his bottom lip and held him close as he whispered, "Are you gonna fuck me?"
Derek visibly swallowed had stumbled until Stiles' knees hit the back of the bed. They fell down in a tangle of limbs and Stiles pulled Derek in until he could leave a sloppy trail of kisses down his neck. He rolled his hips up and relished in the moan he got in return. Derek's fingers skimmed the skin just under his t-shirt before they moved further up, exploring the planes of his ribs and stomach.
But Stiles had always been impatient, and it only got worse the older he got. He gripped the bottom of Derek's shirt until he got the hint and Stiles could drag it over his head. His hands immediately went to his abs and stroked down them. Yeah, he could totally get used to that feeling. Derek repaid him by ripping his shirt off and latching onto a nipple, suckling on it and swirling his tongue around. He let go with a loud pop and did the same to the next before grinned up at Stiles.
After that, it had been a flurry of clothes and arms and Derek digging in his bedside table to pull out lube and a condom. Derek looked down at it, then back at Stiles. "I'm clean if you don't want to," he said quietly.
Stiles had to bite back a moan as he shook his head. "That's fine, we don't have to." It was vaguely registering in his arousal filled mind that this was in fact the first time he'd ever had sex, with butts involved anyway, and that his dad would be glaring at him so hard if he ever found out that he hadn't been safe when he'd done it. But he honestly didn't care, he wanted to feel the slick slide if Derek moving in him and the way his come would fill his ass.
Speaking of asses, that had definitely been a finger sliding in him. He moaned and bit his lip hard to keep it from being too loud. He shivered when Derek ran a hand down his thigh while his finger worked inside him. Every touch felt like his skin was on fire, it was too much and not enough all at the same time.
Derek took his time prepping him, didn't pull all three of his fingers out until Stiles was begging him to "just get in him already" and pressing his ass back in an attempt to take them in deeper.
Derek grabbed a pillow and slipped it under his hips before slicking his dick with one hand and lining up. Stiles sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Derek laced their fingers together and gently pushed in, he stopped when Stiles gasped and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Just breathe, Baby." Which honestly only made the task harder.
Derek waited until Stiles nodded to move, but when he did, it was like his whole body was lighting up from the inside. He had though the blowjob and hand-job were good, but this was fucking insane. He waited for Derek to lose control to pound into him with hard and fast thrusts, but all he got was the smooth and slow drag of his hips as he slid in and back out. When Derek found his prostate, he saw stars.
"Thought you said you were gonna fuck me?" he said breathlessly. Derek tightened his grip on his hands, but didn't say anything. He kept his slow, torturous pace and somewhere in the deep recesses of Stiles' mind he knew what this was. It was lovemaking.
Derek reached a hand between them and stroked him gently, thumbing at his slit and making him moan loudly. His aim was perfect, hitting that bundle of nerves on nearly every thrust as he jerked Stiles in time with them. When he came, it felt like a religious experience.
It went white behind his eyelids and he arched off the bed as Derek stroked him through it. When he finally came back down, Derek moved inside him again and half a dozen thrusts later came with a groan. He collapsed on top of Stiles afterward and burrowed into his chest. He looked over to the clock and figured he should probably leave. That's what a booty call was after all. You eat, fuck, and get the hell out of dodge, but Derek didn't exactly seem to be in the mood to move. "I'm sticky," Stiles murmured, a hand delving into the silkiness of Derek's hair.
"And hot," Derek slurred out, arm curling around his waist in what felt like a possessive hold.
Stiles snorted and said, "There's a line of people waiting to argue with you on that and I can't really believe a word you say because you're post-orgasm drunk."
Derek sat up, he hair messy and his eyes fading back to their normal color. "You don't honestly believe that," he said. "The pizza guy, Erica, hell even Isaac."
Stiles awkwardly sat up and grabbed a random shirt from the floor. He wiped at his stomach from where he'd come all over himself and turned back to Derek. "I'm just- I'll go," he said simply.
"Or you could, you know, stay." Stiles knew he was misinterpreting, but he felt like he could hear a hopeful tone as Derek spoke. In the end he nodded and climbed back into bed with Derek, who wrapped around him like a cuddly octopus and Derek Hale was totally into post-coital cuddling.
And besides, he figured some booty calls stayed the night, right?
And it went on like that for weeks. Stiles going go Derek's when his parents and family were out of town, or Derek coming to hang out at his house when his dad was working. Which was often. There was sex. Lots of sex. And cuddling. And superhero movies because it turned out that Derek was a giant nerd.
But Stiles was getting restless, he wanted someone to take him out to dinner and a movie. He wanted someone to hold his hand and do stupid things like the movie move. And the problem was he didn't want that with just anyone, he wanted it with Derek, which was never going to happen because Derek didn't want anyone to know about them.
And then Ethan asked him out.
He wasn't sure how things like this worked, did you tell your booty call you got asked out, or do you leave it be? And if this date turns out to be several and then dating, do you call things off with the booty call? The last thing Stiles wanted was to lose Derek, but it felt like it was headed in that direction. He said yes to Ethan, deciding it was best to just get the talk with Derek out of the way.
When he pulled up to the Hale house Cora was sitting in the porch with a child in her lap and something close to a smile on her face. "Derek home?" he asked.
Always on cue, Derek stepped out of the house grinning from ear to ear. "Hey," he said softly, and grabbed Stiles be his upper arm.
He had the sinking feeling that Derek was about to yell at him, tell him he shouldn't show up at the house when people could see him. Instead, he got shoved into a tree and Derek pressing a bruising kiss to his mouth. He lost himself in the feel of their lips sliding together, the way Derek moaned and played with the collar of his shirt. And then he remembered that they were out in the woods and why.
"Derek," he whispered, pushing at Derek's shoulder so he would move his face from its hideaway in Stiles' neck and failing. "Derek, we gotta talk."
That got his attention. He leaned back and stared at Stiles in confusion. "What's there to talk about?"
Stiles took a long breath and steeled himself for the worst. He closed his eyes and said quietly, "I can't do this anymore."
When he opened his eyes to look at Derek, all he saw was one hundred different shades of confused and shocked. "B-b-but, what!? How could you possibly want more? We hang out and watch movies! We sleep together at least four times a week! What more could you possibly want?"
The words stung, they made him flinch and move out of Derek's arms. "What more could I want!? Someone to take me out! Someone to hold my hand and do cheesy things like put their arm around me and call me ridiculous pet names! I want someone who isn't ashamed of me!" And maybe that was the whole point, maybe that's why Stiles had been so hurt and angry.
"Ashamed of....Are you kidding me? You're the one that- I can't- What are you talking about?"
Stiles shook his head and rubbed at his arm. "Ethan asked me out," he said quietly. "I told him yes."
"Ethan?" Derek's voice was strangled as he spoke and he shook his head. "No, not him."
"Yes, him, he's hot!" Stiles said turning back in the direction they came. "Maybe I found someone who actually likes me for a change!"
"Wait, you don't think I- Stiles what's gotten into you? Two days ago we were fine!"
"We weren't fine, Derek! We were never fine! We're in some weird fucked up something and I have to get out. I won't keep getting my heartbroken every time you pass me in the hall without so much as a glance!" He threw the door to his jeep open and slammed it closed on Derek's protests. He'd had enough and it was time to do something about it.
Stiles had always crushed on Derek, even before the muscles and the full blown beard by his seventeenth birthday. He'd found Derek's squeaky in-between fifteen year old voice adorable, had found the way he'd always blushed when a girl smiled or bumped into him endearing, and had loved the determination he'd always had to be the captain of the basketball team since he was twelve.
The thing that most people forgot was that Stiles and Derek had once been as close as Scott and Stiles. No one seemed to remember that brief four year period that Scott had moved away and Derek had decided they were best friends. Stiles had only been eight and Derek ten, but that didn't seem to make a difference. Derek had seen him sitting by himself at lunch and had carried all his stuff over, plopped down beside him, and smiled widely.
After that, they'd been inseparable. Talia and Claudia had set it up so they were at one another's house almost everyday and they were practically joined at the hip durning school. They had sleepovers where they'd stay up late and talk about everything, only to wake up the next morning squished together on the bed and wrapped around each other.
Derek had been the one to help Stiles through his mom's passing, had been the one to whisper into his hair that everything was going to be fine and soothe him to sleep.
But then Derek went into high school and Scott came back. Things went back to normal and everyone seemed to forget that they even knew each other. By the time Stiles got to high school Derek had a girl in each arm and muscles to spare, while Stiles slowly forgot long summer nights at the Hale house watching the stars with his fingers barely touching Derek's.
Ethan had been great, Danny had been even better, but they were both lacking one important thing. They weren't Derek. No matter how hard Stiles tried, he couldn't get Derek off his mind. Anytime one of them would reach for him, he could feel the phantom touch of Derek and his skin would turn to fire.
It was summer before Stiles saw Derek again, outside of school of course. He looked good, his stubble had grown out more, although it still wasn't quite a beard, he still had muscles to spare, because he wasn't really hiding anything in that tight tank top, and he was sans the leather jacket because of fucking course it was eighty million degrees outside. Stiles had all this time to realize this, because Derek was standing on his front porch.
"Derek," he squeaked out in a totally manly way. "What are you doing here?"
Derek only looked at him and ran a hand through his gelled hair. He shuffled his feet before making a vague gesture to the house, saying, "Can I come in?"
Stiles' face burned involuntarily as he nodded and stepped to the side. He shut the door with an insane amount of confusion and tried hard to not think of how the last time Derek had been here he'd pushed him up against it and sucked him off, before fucking his brains into next week. And it wasn't. It the time for a boner, but apparently his dick had a mind of it's own.
"So," Stiles said, letting his voice trail off into awkward silence. He watched as Derek walked the length of the living room, before stopping at Stiles, letting out a frustrated groan, and start all over again. It made Stiles think about the circle of life for some reason.
Derek finally stopped his pacing and came to a stop inches from Stiles' face with his legs spread apart. "Listen," he said, voice hard and teeth gritted together, "I don't know what happened between us and I'd really fucking like an explanation. I need closure, or else I'm going to keep following you around like a lovesick puppy."
More confusion sunk into his bones and he looked at Derek with a carefully blank expression, because, honestly, what the ever loving fuck? "I- What do you mean what happened?"
"I mean, I need to know why you decided that you needed a boyfriend to hold your fucking hand when could have just asked me!" And whoa, that sounded like jealously. "I need to know why you couldn't have just told me you wanted something more instead of dragging me out to the woods and- And done something so shitty!"
"First off, you dragged me out to the woods, Big Guy, not the other way around. And also," he hazily remembered taking a step closer and shoving a finger at Derek's chest, "what do you mean I could have just said something about it when you were the one you wanted to kept whatever the fuck we had going on a secret!"
"I wanted to!" Derek shouted, his face getting close and personal with Stiles', "Me! What fucking world do you live in? I only agreed to that because it's what you wanted, Stiles, not me!" he hissed.
Stiles sputtered unintelligently before scoffing and shaking his head. "Yeah, no. That's not at all true. The locker room, remember? You told me not to say anything."
"God! No, you said that! I was going to ask you out to a movie, but then you oh-so-kindly suggested we shouldn't say anything!" Derek made another frustrating noise and huffed out a hard breath through his nose. "You," he said, voice softening at the edges, "are infuriating."
Stiles looked up from where he'd been playing with a button on his shirt and said, "So, all those months of dicking around, you wanted what?"
Derek closed the minimal space remaining between them and brushed his fingertips across Stiles' cheekbone. "What I've always wanted," he said quietly. "I wanted to wake up tangled up with you, I wanted to text you and ask you how your day was. I wanted you to sit next to me at lunch so I could play footsie with you under the table," that got a chuckle out of the both of them, so he leaned his forehead down to connect with Stiles'. "It fucking killed me to see you with Ethan and Danny. I hated watching you in the halls with them, I hated to see the way your smile never reached your eyes."
They stood there, breathing in each other's air, before Derek spoke again. "Did you, with them, did you let them touch you."
Stiles could feel his whole body tense as he asked the question, though his hands stayed steadily stroking his face. "No," he whispered, his voice rough. "I couldn't let them, I always thought about you when they tried to." He could feel when Derek relaxed, and he couldn't keep from saying, "I think you broke me for anyone else."
"Good." Derek leaned in and brushed their lips together in a barely there kiss. "I think we went about this whole thing backwards."
Stiles couldn't help but scoff and say, "You think?"
"Yeah," Derek whispered. "We've got all summer," he said gently. "Maybe we could start over?" After Stiles' nod, he asked, "So you want to go to a movie tomorrow night?"