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I Fell In Love On An Elevator (& never came back down)

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Derek was typing frantically at his desktop trying to ignore the ginormous pair of boobs in his face.

“Come on, Derek. Please ?” She whined.

He fixes her with one of his patented glares, “No.”

She presses in closer, “Please.”

He eventually sighs in resignation and stops typing, his fingers stay floating above the keyboard but now she had his full attention.

“No, Erica. And I swear to God, I will report you for sexual harassment.”

She scoffed, “It’s not my fault you can’t handle a little woman anatomy.”

At that Derek snorted and went back to typing.

“But seriously, Der. You haven’t been out with us in ages. We miss your scowly brain. Come on. Just one drink! I’ll even pay.”

“No.”

She let out a wild shriek of abandon and stalked away. Used to her theatrics he rolled his eyes and continued typing.


As usual, the group congregated at Derek’s desk for lunch. Because if they didn’t show up to drag him out, he’d probably just stay there. Ordering in or going to the sad little office cafeteria that only the interns went to. Isaac hung over the side of his cubicle lazily watching Derek while Erica, Allison and Lydia stood to the side giggling. He raised an eyebrow in their direction but said nothing. Boyd is standing against the wall, looking at Erica liked the whipped puppy he was and Jackson leaned haughtily against Derek’s desk. It was beautifully quiet and calm while they waited for Derek to finish. Liam Dunbar from the third floor finances broke that silence however, when he walked past the group and blushed so red that Derek was embarrassed for him.

“Hi, Allison,” he stuttered out, waving awkwardly as he went by.

“Hey, Liam,” she replied sweetly.

While that had been a tame interaction, it had apparently opened the floodgates for conversation.

“Oh my GOD, are you almost done yet?”

“Seriously, dude,” Jackson scoffed, rolling his eyes and kicking at Derek’s chair.

“I--”

He was cut off by a gasp, “Oh shit, there he is.”

All attention was now focused on the boy...man(?) in the copy room, running something through the printer. Stiles Stilinski. Derek had seen him around the office before and wasted no time in figuring out who he was. The boy was beautiful. He had dark hair that always looked slept on and messy and moles littered his pale skin. He had these bright round amber eyes that always shown with something like amusement. He had slim hips that the suits he wore pronounced and after five he would always roll up his sleeves showing off his amazing forearms. And then there was his smile, big and bright and genuine. He’d always flash one when passing Derek or any other of his coworkers. He’d always share a quick hello in the hallways or awkward small talk in the elevators. He was adorable. And Derek kind of very much so had been actively avoiding him. He didn’t want to make a complete fool of himself in front of the guy. Plus he wasn’t one for office romances or romances in general. He didn’t like...feelings, as Lydia had put it once after a couple shots of Tequila one night. He’d been at the company for maybe a month now, but this was the first time he had heard the girls talk about him.

“Do you see his lips?” Lydia hissed.

“Ugh, his hair,” Allison beamed.

“I’d fuck him,” Erica claimed, making her boyfriend (of six years) groan.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Isaac quipped, “do you see his hands ? Sure I’d love to do a lot of nasty things to him but I would love it even more for him to do those nasty things to me .”

This time it was Derek who groaned. He didn’t need that image of his little brother in his head.

“He’s so cute but at the same time so fuckable,” Allison continued on, “it’s confusing me.”

Lydia scoffed, “He’s probably fantastic in bed. He looks the type to please first, if you know what I mean,” she shot a glare at Jackson, her on-again-off-again-but-always-screwing boyfriend.

Danny, who had materialized out of fucking nowhere picked up the conversation, “Sure, sure. He might like to please first but that mouth? Totally made for dick.”

The girls seemed to falter for a second before Erica relivened with a moan, “Isaac you’re right. His hands .”

It was getting a bit too pornographic. Borderline...no well over the line of sexual harassment.

“Knock it off,” he grumbled.

They all turned to him.

“What? Jealous that you’re no longer the ideal office fantasy?” Erica teased.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Oh. Oh ,” Lydia smiled. It looked the the Grinch, “Unless you, Mr. Blushing Virgin, have a sexual fantasy about him, too?”

At that Erica and Allison perked up so quickly he was momentarily distracted.

“I don’t have a fantasy about Stiles,” a pause and then he threw in, “And I’m not a virgin.”

“Who’s Stiles?” Allison inquired as Lydia sneered, “I have yet to see otherwise.”

He gawked, “You’re sexualizing him and you don’t even know his name ? That’s a new low, even for you, Reyes.”

Jackson laughed beside him. Once you get passed the whole “I’m a dick and I don’t think my parents love me” trope he had going on, he was actually a decent guy. At least sometimes. Like now, when he laughed at Derek’s jokes.

Lydia only hummed in consideration, “It sucks that he’s so quiet.”

And Allison agreed. Apparently, the guy never spoke. Apart from exchanged hellos (Allison) and elevator convos about baseball (Jackson) and certain projects (Lydia), Stiles was next to mute.

Suddenly, having enough of his friends analysis of their coworker, he abruptly stood and demanded they went for lunch. His actions seem to startle them out of their fantasy and they didn’t speak of Stiles for the rest of the day.



And that weekend if Derek imagined Stiles falling apart underneath him, whimpering and moaning, begging Derek in his quiet voice to make him cum, Stiles wrapping his long fingers around Derek, jacking him off to finalization, pressing wide opened mouth kisses down Derek’s chest, letting Derek fuck his mouth, using his own thick fingers to open the boy up, his pale skin flushing, Derek pushing into him, threading his fingers through Stiles’ long hair as they kissed to shush the desperate noises coming from him, cumming all over his own chest while Derek came buried inside...well no one had to know.




It was about a week later when the girls (& Isaac) brought up Stiles again. However, this time, Derek was subjected to his own weekend’s dirty fantasy and shut them down a lot faster than the first time. It had taken everything Derek had, a promise to go out with them for a drink after work sometime soon, to shake them off his trail of self-consciousness.

Three weeks after that and Erica cashed in that drink. They made it down to the bar only twenty minutes after clocking out. As promised, Derek had one drink and relished in his friends’ company. Jackson was giving Isaac advice about Fantasy Football, Lydia and Allison were talking about Liam and the pros and cons of anything actually happening there while Erica and Boyd sat on either side of them engaging him in everything from work to the weather. It wasn’t long after that he excused himself. It was only six o’clock but he was tired. His anxiety was way up and he had gone out to lunch everyday with the group. His introvertedness was making him tired, but he promised another drink sometime next week, no matter what. And that the round was on him. Erica let him go with a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek, promising that she’d see him Monday. He only nodded and headed to his apartment building.

It was difficult living in the city sometimes. Lots of people, so many tourists, crowded streets, loud noises. Someone would think the likes of Derek would repel things like that, but be rather liked it. There was always something going on. He was never bored. An that last sentence...well that last sentence was proven that very night.

After having taken a train home, he strolled into the lobby of his apartment. His apartment on the top floor and the elevator was slow, but after the long day, he opted to take it where he usually took the stairs. He mentally shrugged and rounded the corner to wait for the elevator when he stopped in his tracks. Because there stood...

“Stiles?”

The boy spun around, expression lighting up like a Christmas tree, so fast that Derek gasped.

“Derek! Hi! What are you doing here?” Suddenly his excitement turned cold, “Did I do something wrong?”

At that Derek recovered, “I...uh,” well, sort of recovered, “No. I don’t think so. I live here.”

Relief washed over him, “Oh. No way, man. Me too!”

Derek raised his eyebrow.

“God, I can’t believe I never knew. I must be the worst neighbor to ever neighbor.”

Derek shook his head, “No. It’s just been a busy few weeks for me. I haven’t been around much.”

While the answer had been vague, he’d been sure of it, Allison took the liberty of pointing that trait of his out constantly, Stiles seemed to light up even more. His attention was cut short when the elevator bell chimed. The two stepped inside and pressed their respective numbers. Stiles was only two floors beneath him.

He readied himself for another round of boring elevator small talk, but was shocked when the boy turned towards him fully.

“God. New York is great, isn’t it? I mean, like it’s supposed to snow soon, right? God I hope it does. California, well where I’m from, doesn’t get snow and it sucks. I’m going to build a snowman in Central Park, you know that? God, Scotty’s going to flip. He doesn’t even think snow exists. Well, he does, really. But it’s always been this thing you see in movies. Oh. Oh my God, have you seen the new Batman?”

Stunned, Derek shook his head.

“Oh, then I won’t ruin it then. But seriously? Verse Superman? What were they thinking?”

And Stiles rambled on and on. His voice had a kind of boyish charm to it. It was warm and flowy and in a way comforting. He let it wash over him. He jumped from topic to topic, from movie graphics to clothing to gender roles to the coffee shop outside of work all in the matter of the elevator ride to the fourteenth floor. They were almost there when he addressed Derek again. He had missed it though, the question. Too busy staring at Stiles. They way his eyes lit up, the way his mouth moved and hands gestured. Derek, objectively knew Stiles was gorgeous, but this was like being right there. Like seeing Van Gogh display Starry Night verse watching Van Gogh paint it.

So he said the only thing that came to mind, “You’re not quiet.”

Because he wasn’t. By God he wasn’t. He was frightened why Stiles may be so unanimated at the office or why he may have let everyone quite literally think he was mute or suffered from some rare form of strenuous social anxiety.

Derek jumped at a barked out laugh. And that too, was stunning. How Stiles threw his head back in joy, his white teeth showing, his pink mouth howling.

“No,” he cackled, “No, of course not...Oh my God, is that what everybody thinks?” He laughed again, “My Dad is going to die .”

Derek only watched him with something between fond amusement and out right horror. The kid had barely taken a breath the entire ride up. The bell dinged, signaling the stop. Stiles went to go but turned back towards Derek, a sincere expression now on his face.

“Thanks,” he blushed, and Derek was taken aback. After all that talking and yapping away he was blushing. What? “It was good to have a conversation with someone that wasn’t about work. I haven’t really since I moved here.”

He was suddenly overcome with a bout of guilt. He felt bad to avoiding him, even if it was for somewhat selfish reasons. The kid was lonely . He had moved from California to New York, just like Derek had five years ago, and Derek hadn’t even tried to get to know him. They lived in the same apartment for Christ’s sakes and he hadn’t even known. He was about to answer, maybe apologize for the unknown truth, but Stiles’ face lights up again as he waves goodbye.

“I’ll see you on Monday Derek!”

He lifts his hand in a wave and the elevator shuts.

 

 

That night he had an emotion drop in which he and Stiles were cuddling on the couch together arguing over what movie to watch. It, however, eventually morphed into the same dream Derek previously had about the boy. Only this time Stiles was much louder .

And uh...yeah, the rest of the weekend was pretty normal for the most part.


 

Monday came and Derek woke with a groan. Only it was half hearted and he wasn’t sure why. Not looking too far into it, he struggled out of bed, wrestled on his suit and headed out the door. He got to the office with no real issues except a snoring lady and a crying child on the train. Not three minutes after he had dropped into his desk, a coffee was being shyly pushed in front of him. He looked up to see a shy and blushing Stiles standing at his desk. Derek opened his mouth to speak but Stiles beat him to it.

“I’m sorry.”

Derek was momentarily thrown off. What ? Apparently his expression had been enough to convey his confusion because then Stiles was off rambling again, much like he had Friday night in the elevator.

“I’m sorry. I probably came on too strong on Friday and I know I was way too much. I didn’t take my adderall that day and like I said, you’re like the first person that’s talked to me outside of work and I kind of just took it and ran, you know?”

He wanted to point out that Stiles had actually been the one that spoke to him, but glancing at the boy’s nervous round eyes, he didn’t have the heart, not even to joke.

He cut him off before he could get any further, “Stiles. It’s fine. Really. I...I like talking to you.”

There was a pause, long enough for Derek to internally berate himself, and then Stiles’ entire face lit up. Derek was momentarily breathless. The boy was beautiful. He had said it before and he would say it again. He was beautiful and the way his face lit up like Christmas every time he was even remotely happy made Derek’s stomach swoon and his chest feel heavy. He wanted Stiles to always look like that: happy. He let himself smile shyly and take in Stiles’ features. But then he was talking again, moving , so Derek didn’t get to catalogue much.

“Oh, good. I mean, thanks. I mean...yeah, thanks. I--”

“Um, since this was an unnecessary apology, I think this means that I owe you a cup of coffee sometime.”

And... uh , did Derek just ask him on a date? Because that wasn’t part of the plan. No. The plan was to pine. The plan was just to pine far far away. This was not the plan. But suddenly Stiles was giving him a look that Derek couldn’t quite put his finger on, not yet, and he quickly forgot about the plan.

“That would be great,” Stiles smiled, bending over--and oh God, Derek had dreamt of this moment, only with a lot less clothes and a lot more foreplay--and scribbled his number down on a stray piece of paper, “Just...uh, text me whenever. I don’t usually take a lunch so I can break whenever.”

Derek nodded, “I’ll see you later then?”
Stiles bit his lip, “Yeah. Absolutely.”

When he turned away from Derek and was no longer in sight, the only people who knew of their twin smiles was Allison, Erica and Lydia gaping openly from across the room.

 

It took all of three seconds for the entire group to be over there.

“What was that about Hale?” Jackson asked.

“Yeah, what happened to ‘I don’t have fantasies about Stiles’,” Erica air quoted.

Lydia only grunted in encouragement and suddenly Derek felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. These were his friends, goddamnit, not his parents. He voices this and was met by a handful of flat looks and a choked off laugh from Isaac.

“It’s nothing,” he grunted, finally resigned, “I...we live in the same apartment building apparently and got talking in the elevator. That was it.”

“He bought you a coffee,” Boyd pointed out, poking at it with his pen absently.

Derek snatched it before the other man could knock of off the desk. Damn Boyd, always asking the difficult questions. Or rather, making the difficult observations.

“It was like an apology, I guess. He talked a lot and said...” No, he knew the next sentence was a weighted one, so he improvised. God, Laura would be rolling right now. Speaking of, he made a mental note to call her and lament about how much his friends sucked. “...that he was embarrassed for talking so much.”

Lydia cocked an eyebrow, “How come he talked to you and not me,” she demanded.

Derek shrugged and took a sip of his...hot chocolate? Oh man, the kid was too cute.

“Sure,” Erica grinned, leaning in to let her chest fall into his face, one of her favorite moves to annoy him, “so he bought you a coffee for an apology. That was nice. But did the phone number come with it? Or was that just a little extra.”

“What do you mean?”

When she pulled back she had the notepad that had Stiles’ sloppy handwriting covering it.

“Give it back.”

“Ohh,” she grinned even wider and Derek wanted to die.

“Erica, come on. Give it back.”

She gave him a disappointed look, like he should know better by now. And he should. He really, really should. He had grown up with Laura for God’s sake. Apparently he was attracted to mean girls who loves to shove their noses into his personal life for their own entertainment. It was a good thing he wasn’t straight.

“Tell me the truth,” she demanded, standing and holding the paper above him, taunting by in a very serious way.

“I did.”

“The whole truth.”

Erica .”


“The truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

He let it sit for a few minutes. She had Stiles’ number. And Derek didn’t. Maybe she’d call and ask him on a date instead. Or maybe she’d use it to defame Derek. To make him look like a complete loser, make Stiles hate him. He knew he was being irrational, but Erica was irrational. It was a two way street.

“Fine,” he grumbled, and she relaxed a little, looking pleased.

“I asked him out for coffee.”

“I knew it,” Allison nearly shrieked.

Derek couldn’t help the blush that crept over his face.

“Oh my God,” Erica said.

“What?” Derek snapped, already self conscious as it was.

“Oh my God .”

“Erica,” he whined.

She launched herself at him, “They get so big so fast,” she mocked wiped her eyes before standing up and gingerly handing him back the notepad, “Don’t want to lose this,” she smirked.

 

Turns out, the only problem was that Stiles didn’t think it was a date. He brought a few friends from his side of the office. And, while it stung, he was just happy that he got to be with Stiles. Was that too corny? Probably. He decided, as he watched Stiles enthusiastically explain some aspect of psychology in writing, that he was going to make Stiles Stilinski fall in love with him.


It started the next day. Stiles had wandered up to Derek’s desk and engaged him in a somewhat leisurely conversation about the Mets/Royals game last night. Derek, while fully encaptured into the story Stiles was telling, put on his best flirtatious grin and leaned it. The movement seemed to through Stiles completely off kilter, stuttering and blushing and nearly falling on his face all the while he stood still. It was amazing to watch. He saw Erica approaching and damn if he would let her ruin this for him.

‘Give him a compliment’ , Laura’s words sounded in his head.

And as if right on cue, Stiles’ head turned just a little bit that the light above them cut through his brown eyes making them look like melted honey. He was speaking before he consented, but flirting was flirting was flirting. Right?

“You have beautiful eyes.”

Stiles faltered again, jaw dropping open with a click, Erica’s joining him in the action. But Derek was too busy to feel self conscious. He was watching for Stiles’ reaction. But then... oh god . What if he had read this all wrong? What if Stiles wasn’t even gay? What if he had honest to God just been being friendly to him? What if...

His thoughts were cut off then, “I...wow. Um. Tha...thank you? That’s...wow.”

He grinned. And Erica just stalked away in disbelief. Stiles shot her a confused glance and then seemed to work something out in his head before turning back toward Derek. There was an undertone to him now, something...something Derek couldn’t place. He was left confused when Stiles excused himself to finish his paperwork before he left.

Derek counted it as half a win.

 

The next time they had been out after work getting drinks. Erica nearly had a fit when she found out they were going.

“I always ask you to get drinks with us, Derek.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said, “but he’s not trying to woo you.”

“I wooed you a long time ago, Erica.”

“Fuck off, Hale.”

Since the first day they had coffee together, they had gone for lunch twice and out for coffee four times. It had been about a week and a half and Derek was feeling good about his progress. Because if he hadn’t known that Stiles was everything he wanted then, he sure as hell knew it now.

There had been the time they had been walking home from the bar when a little kid had fallen over when he was chasing after his sister. He had immediately started crying and there was no parent in sight. Derek froze, but Stiles crouched down and lifted the little guy up by his arms.

“Look at that, not even a scratch,” Stiles had said, after rolling up the kid’s pant leg to check for blood.

“But it hurts ,” he had whined.

“Hmm. Well can I tell you a secret?”

Still red from tears, the kid slowly nodded.

“You’re a superhero.”

“What?”

“A superhero. No one falls that hard and gets up without a scratch.”

The kids eyes were wide and his sister came up next to him, a similar expression on her face as well, “Am I a superhero, too?”

“Of course. I’ve never seen somebody run so fast before in my life!”

She cheered, “I told you Thomas. I’m faster than you.”

“Yeah,” the boy, Thomas, smiled, “And I’m stronger than you!”

Before much else could happen, a frantic mother was running around the corner, “Thomas! Lizzy! Thomas! Oh. God. Oh thank God . Don’t run away like that! You can’t do that.”

Or that time where Mason, their new intern was having an anxiety attack and Derek found Stiles talking him through it in the break room. Or the time where Stiles had tripped down the stairs when the elevator was out. Derek had been near panicking, but Stiles just laid at the bottom of the flight and laughed.

Stiles was fun. He was kind and funny and always kept Derek on his toes. He was witty and smart and beautiful and everything Derek wanted. He didn’t care that Stiles hadn’t taken the bait yet, that they weren’t official yet or even un official yet. Just spending time with him was good enough for Derek right now. He was set on Stiles, maybe he had been since the first day he saw him, and he would wait. No matter how long it took, he would wait.

And that’s why going out for drinks was a chancy move. They, of course, had challenged each other to a shot-off. And after one...two...three too many shots over the normal I’m probably still okay amount, they headed home. But Stiles couldn’t find his keys and with him hanging off Derek, it was impossible for the man to search him. In conclusion, his completely shit brain brought Stiles to his apartment and set him up on the couch. Stiles had fallen asleep in minutes while Derek had taken a few extra to whisper sweet nothings into the boy’s hair. They woke up curled around each other, Derek’s face buried in Stiles’ long hair, stiles’ lanky arms octopused around Derek’s torso.

And Stiles didn’t leave in the morning, either. He let Derek cook him breakfast and then stayed another hour or so watching the news with him. When he did finally leave, Stiles gave Derek a tight hug and promised to see him on Monday.

Progress, Derek thought to himself happily as he snaked a hand down the front of his sweats.

 

Things only started getting better from there. They were flirt in the office, hard . Erica was usually always guest to it, using it as blackmail later, as she assured him. And the best part was, after the first few times, Stiles had begun to flirt back . The comments were witty and dry and perfect and if Derek could imagine anyone better than Stiles...well...well it wasn’t happening. They had coffee dates and lunch dates and dinner dates and football dates. Well... dates . They hadn’t exactly done anything yet. Not besides the obvious flirting and the sitting way too close together and the looks (a new development) they shared. Erica claimed the UST was killing her, but like Derek claimed, he would wait. No matter how long.

After a month or so, they had developed a friendship that was so unlike any of Derek’s before. They talked about everything, listened to each other, teased each other, supported each other. He considered Stiles to be one of his best friends and according to Stiles, “Don’t tell Scott, but...”, he was one of his too. And everything was great, until it wasn’t.

They had stopped flirting as much in the office because Derek had him now. It may not have been in the ideal way, but Derek had him. That’s all he needed, wanted. But then he had seen Stiles flirting with Danny by the coffee station. Blushing and stuttering. Something came over Derek, something that was so...so primal that he didn’t know what to do with it. Derek wasn’t a jealous person. Not at all. He had grown up in a house with five siblings, so he knew how to share. But this was different. Stiles was...Stiles was his and this was different. So, as soon as Stiles waved goodbye and headed to Derek’s desk where Erica was currently longing, he nearly ran up behind the man and wrapped his arms around his midsection, burying his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck.

“You look fantastic in this suit, you know that?”

He let out a nervous laugh and...why was it nervous? Erica looked slightly horrified, but she always looked slightly horrified when Derek flirted. But why was Sitles nervous?

“Th-thanks, man.”

At that something ran cold in Derek. He immediately let go. The thanks had seemed like a dismissal of sorts. A kind of brush off that Stiles had never given him before. Never. Not once. And from the looks of Erica’s face, she noticed it too. Derek’s entire world shattered around him. After he pulled away he was confused to see something like hurt in Stiles’ eyes, but he ignored it in favor of his own open wound. His own open wound that Stiles continued to tear at when he announced he was leaving work early that day and that Derek didn’t have to wait around for him. Like it was an obligation. He had stoically nodded and watched as Stiles walked away. He dejectedly sat down at his desk, ignoring Erica’s attempts as consolation, and he typed.

 

His friends had been oddly careful around him for the rest of the day and he had his suspicions as to why. But that night he went out for drinks with all of them and that seemed to ease the awkwardness. At least a little.

He didn’t remember calling a taxi or stumbling into the elevator. He didn’t remember banging on Stiles’ door at God only knows what hour. He didn’t remember the man opening it with a grin and pulling Derek inside goodnaturedly like nothing ever happened. He did remember Stiles laying him down on the couch and taking his shoes off, though and he remembered waking up a little while later to puke in a bucket that Stiles had provided near his head. But that was it until he was woken up, still impossibly drunk by the smell of eggs and toast.

He sat up so fast that he thought he was going to be sick again. Stiles races to his side but Derek flinched under his touch. The other immediately pulled back, a look of pain and hurt seering through the man’s beautiful expression. An expression that should always be light and happy. But no. Stiles wasn’t his. Not anymore. And it pained him even more than he thought it would. Especially since Stiles hadn’t exactly been his exclusively in the first place. But it did. And suddenly he felt like crying.

“I have to go,” was all Derek said before grabbing jacket and phone and fleeing the apartment.

It was finally seven pm when he had woken up sober. He groaned, replaying everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. He had to apologize to Stiles, that was for sure. Pulling on a clean pair of sweat and a shirt that didn’t have puke on it, he shuffled down the stairs to the other man’s apartment.

“Derek?”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, “I was drunk and I didn’t know what I was doing and whatever I did, I didn’t mean it. Unless it was something good then--”

He was shushed by Stiles throwing his arms around Derek’s shoulders in a hug.

“It’s alright,” he smiled pulling back, “All’s forgiven.”

Derek let himself smile back, but he knew it wasn’t. The usual light in Stiles’ eyes were somewhat dull. He wanted to put that light back. No matter what.

 

So at work, he tried to do just that. He complimented his tie, his hair. He told him he had a nice smile, that, again, his eyes were beautiful. Each time Erica rolled her eyes at Derek’s attempt to “get Stiles back” but he ignored her.
It was lunch time when Stiles showed back up at Derek’s desk. Erica, of course, was there. And God , didn’t she have anywhere else to go? Any work to do?

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Stiles asked, uncharacteristically shy.

Derek nodded but Stiles only stiffened, “Alone,” it was a small voice and his eyes flickered to Erica. In confusion and shock Derek nodded and and stood. He followed Stiles into the break room and shut the door behind them. And Stiles looked...he looked distressed. His sleeves were unbuttoned, his hair was unruly, his eyes were wide (and not in the cute way) and he was pacing in front of Derek frantically.

“Listen, I know this isn’t the best place to be having the conversation but...you need to stop.”

Derek furrowed his eyebrows, “What--”

“Look, I get it. She’s amazing okay? And yeah, normally I’d be all about of course, help a brother out but... God, Derek, I just don’t know if I can do it anymore. It’s...I get it. I do. You don’t want anything to do with me, you’ve made that clear, which is fine. I got the hint, but you can’t keep using me like this. Especially...I don’t know how much more I can take. Do you get that? Because I think you know and it’s kind of really shitty of you to do even if we are friends and I can’t handle all the touching and smiling and flirting and--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Stiles fixed him with a cold stare, “I said I get it Derek. I don’t like to be toyed with.”

“Stiles. What the fuck are you talking about? Who’s amazing? Who the fuck are you talking about? Handle what? What the hell do you mean using you Stiles? Who’s using you? I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!”

“It’s enough Derek,” he said, voice low as he turned towards the door.

But no. There was no way in hell Derek was going to let Stiles walk out of there like this. This huge unresolved issues of what the fuck is happening over them. Derek slid in front of him.

“No. You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on Stiles.”

The rage seemed to finally hit him and he staggered back a few steps.

“I know, Derek! I know! I know you’re just using me to make Erica jealous! I get it! She’s hot and funny and entirely your type! And that’s fine! I just don’t appreciate you using me like a throw away toy! Especially when you know that I have these feelings for you and that’s kind of a dick thing to do, Derek!”

In shock, Derek caught Stiles’ wrist. The boy pulled away but Derek didn’t let go and he couldn’t stop the grin from pulling at his face. When Stiles saw it he scoffed.

“You like me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“You like me? Stiles.”

“Yes. Oh my God. I know you know. I fucking know that you know, Derek!”

“I...I didn’t know.”

“Oh great. Well now you do. Let me go.”

“Stiles,” he chokes out, the rest of his brain catching up to the rest of him, “I wasn’t using you to get to Erica.”

“Wh-who? Allison then?”

“Stiles, calmly now. What do you think was happening.”

“Y-you’re using me to make Erica jealous.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Stiles reeled back, his wrist still in Derek’s grasp.

“Let me go. You were flirting with her.”

“Stiles, I was flirting with you .”

“Y-yeah. To make her jealous.”

“No Stiles. I was flirting with you .”

“Derek, stop,” he whined, now sounding completely dejected, “please.”

“Stiles,” he snapped, “Look at me.”

The boy raised his amber eyes.

“I was flirting with you, idiot.”

“I know I--”

“Stiles. I like you.”

The boy’s face all dropped together, mouth, eyes, expression, but then they closed up immediately.

“That isn’t funny Derek. Stop. Fucking let go of me.”

Stiles ,” there was a breathless second before Derek was slowly pulling Stiles into him. He slit their mouths together and it was like coming home. Sweet and careful were Derek’s lips against Stiles’ until Stiles started kissing back. Derek only gripped his wrist harder as if he feared that the boy would escape.

Stiles was the one to pull back, Derek’s name falling from his lips in a broken sob.

“You idiot,” Derek nuzzled against the underside of his jaw, seeing that Stiles still didn’t quite believe him, “I’m in love with you.”

This time Stiles was the one to initiate the kiss. Stiles’ hands cradled Derek’s head, like he had always imagined they would, while Derek wrapped both of his arms tightly around Stiles. They let their lips move together, moaning and breathing harshly into each other. It wasn’t perfect. Far from. Teeth clicked together, hands knocked. But Derek wouldn’t have had it any other way. When they pulled away again the light in Stiles’ eyes was back and his mouth was swollen and beautiful. And when Stiles leaned in again and whispered to Derek’s lips an “I love you, too”, he knew he it was true and that Stiles was his now. Forever.