Chapter Text
“What the hell,” Stiles seethed as he walked into his bedroom and saw Derek sitting on his chair. “How did you beat me here? If my dad -”
“I called your dad on the way over,” Derek said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “I told him what happened. He said I had ten minutes, but only if you didn’t kick me out. I think I heard a gun cock, too.”
“I should kick you out,” Stiles said, sitting down on his bed instead. “I told you to leave me alone, and as usual, you ignored what I said.”
"I was way out of line and I'm sorry."
"Not going to cut it," Stiles said. “You don’t get to act like this and then come apologize like it’s nothing. You don’t talk to me like that!”
“I know, I’m sorry!” Derek said. “I just - I hate Theo, okay! He makes me insane!”
“You are buck dropping again, Derek, just admit you have been a psycho! It’s not anyone else’s fault! Theo's not even around, he has nothing to do with anything! I let you get away with too much, and that is over.”
“I didn’t - you didn’t seem that annoyed, not really,” Derek protested. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal!”
“That’s because I thought you wanted me for yourself, alright?” Stiles burst out, his face flaming red. He had to get up from the bed, he needed to be standing for this particular fight, this declaration that had been a long time coming. “And I figured, yeah, he’s super awkward, but we can get through it, and I’ll let him off the hook because when he’s finished acting like an asshole, it’ll be good. And then you called me a whore, for going on one date and talking to one guy, and you know what? Even if I was banging everyone in Beacon Hills, it still wouldn’t be any of your goddamn business!”
“That is what I want!” Derek said, finally standing up as well. “But you’re in high school, and it seemed weird and bad, and I thought if we could just wait until next fall, when you’re in college -”
“So keeping me in a bubble is a better decision than talking to me,” Stiles said. He couldn’t even feel happy at Derek’s confession. It was too late, he was too tired, and he almost didn’t even care. No matter what Derek said now, it seemed tainted. Fucking Derek.
"I don't even know why I said that," Derek said. He matched Stiles' own defeated expression. "I don't think that and I don't even talk like that."
"I know you don't, Derek," Stiles said softly. "Obviously we've both been pretty thick. But I don't want to be with someone who calls me names, follows me around and tells me who I can and can't talk to. What if Boyd tried that shit with Erica? I should have called you on it for real when you broke up my date with Shelby. I shouldn't have acted like it was okay."
"It's not your fault I'm like this," Derek said, running his hands through his hair and dropping back in the chair.
"Oh, I know this," Stiles agreed.
“What do you need? What can I do?”
“Nothing right now,” Stiles said. He felt bad, seeing the dejected look on Derek’s face, but he knew he had to be strong. He couldn’t let him slide this time and still respect himself. Not yet, anyway. “I just need a break, alright? We can talk in a couple weeks, okay?"
"Okay," Derek said. "Yeah, I'll get out of your hair. Call me when you can."
Stiles nodded and watched as Derek left the room, shoulders hunched. When he was sure he was too far away to hear, he threw the closest object he could find against the way, wincing when he realized it was a breakable coffee mug.
“Breaking things isn’t half as satisfying when you have to clean up after yourself,” his dad said from the doorway. “Which you need to do right now.”
“I know,” Stiles said, grabbing the mini broom and dustpan from his closet. “That’s why breaking bottles at the recycling center is so much better.”
“Yeah, but you’re not allowed there anymore,” his father reminded him, coming into the room and sitting down on the chair Derek just vacated. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “Or I will be. We’ll be fine.” He cleaned up the porcelain shards before flopping back on his bed and looking at his father. “The course of true love never did run smooth.”
“I told you so,” his dad said smugly. “Although, I’m considering taking back my approval. I didn’t like what Derek told me. Do I need to keep him away from you?”
“It’s not that bad,” Stiles said truthfully. He was mad and tired and he wasn’t willing to forgive Derek at the moment, but he knew he would. Derek wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t a villain, either. He needed to get his act together and learn how to both communicate effectively and curb his stalking tendencies, but Stiles had faith, and whatever, Stiles was far from perfect himself. He did think Derek was in the wrong and they both needed to take some time before they moved forward, but Stiles honestly thought they could maybe get it together. Probably.
“You sure? It’s not too late for you to meet a nice, uncomplicated vampire and settle down.”
Stiles laughed. “So far, those aren’t real, Dad, but I’ll keep you updated. We’re not together right now, and I’m not ready to wipe the slate clean. I’m not giving him a total pass just because he’s been historically socially awkward. He still knew he was messing up, and instead of talking to me he acted like a creepwad.”
“Creepwad, huh?”
“Honestly, I’m running out of words for creep,” Stiles said. “I need to dig a little deeper to describe Derek Hale. Anyway, we’ll work it out. I appreciate your concern.”
His dad thankfully recognized the dismissal and left his room with a reassuring pat to the back. It would be fine.
X X X X
Amazingly enough, Derek left him alone for the next couple weeks. Even more astonishing, the rest of the pack stayed out of it as well. Stiles missed Derek, but he also appreciated the fact that Derek was both respecting his wishes and giving him some breathing room. Plus, the school years was winding down; he had other, non-Derek related things to worry about as well.
“Who are you going to prom with?” Lydia asked him with her patented hair flip. It had been awhile since it had caused a reaction in Stiles, but he could still appreciate her general air of fabulousness. They were pretending to study for exams, but really, they knew they could pass them in their sleep; what they were really doing was watching Princess Bride for the umpteenth time. Priorities.
“Can’t we go together?” Stiles asked. “I’ll match my tie to your dress and everything.” They’d been to three school dances together, including the ill-fated winter formal and it had always been easy and fun. Since neither one of them had a current significant other, Stiles had assumed they’d end their high school dance career together one last time.
“No can do,” Lydia said, pursing her lips and picking imaginary lint off of her skirt. “Jackson’s flying in for the weekend.”
“Gross,” Stiles said mildly. “I guess I’ll go stag. Or rustle up some prostitute from lock-up; either way.”
“You could always ask-”
“I thought you were staying out of it?” Stiles said in irritation. He knew his friends’ silence had been too good to last. “We’re not there yet, and seeing Derek in a tux might melt the very real and justified anger I feel toward him.”
“I was going to say Shantal,” Lydia said, her eyes wide in faux innocence. “But interesting that your mind went straight to Derek.”
“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” Stiles said, flicking her in the head.
“Now, Stiles, we both know that’s not true,” she replied. “Derek would look dashing in a tux.”
“Enough.”
“Sorry,” she said, sincerely this time. “I was just wondering where you were. For what’s its worth, I think you have every right to be angry at him. Just don’t be angry forever. Even if nothing happens, you guys are friends, right?”
“Yes,” Stiles sighed. “We’re friends, and we will probably be more than that. Not at this particular moment, though, and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Fair enough,” Lydia said. “I don’t think Danny has a date for prom, either. You two could stag it up together.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” said Stiles, glad of the subject change. “We could wear matching bow ties.”
“Please don’t.”
“It’s going to happen.” He pushed further thoughts of Derek aside.
X X X X
It was three more weeks before Stiles talked to Derek. Prom came and went (Danny would not agree to matching bow ties, the spoilsport, but they’d all had a good time anyway), and graduation was a week away. Exams were over, school was out for seniors and there was really nothing to do except lounge around his room and idly text Scott.
He hadn’t gone this long without speaking to Derek since he’d come back to Beacon Hills and Stiles missed him. He wasn’t one hundred percent ready to forgive and forget, but he was ready to talk, to try to move forward.
Besides, San Francisco was going to be super awkward if they didn’t at least acknowledge one another before then. Stiles knew he was making excuses for himself, and excuses for Derek, but fuck it - he wanted to see him.
He was reaching for his phone when the doorbell rang. He bounded downstairs and peeked through the window; he should be surprised to see Derek but he really wasn’t.
“This is literally the first time you’ve come to the front door,” Stiles said, opening the door and leaning against the frame, all nonchalance and steady heartbeat.
“No it’s not,” Derek countered, as if he couldn’t help arguing just for the sake of it. “I’ve come to the front door loads of times. I know I should have called first, though.”
“It’s alright,” Stiles said truthfully, standing back and motioning Derek in. “Drink?” Derek nodded and Stiles led them into the kitchen, throwing Derek a bottle of water before sitting at the table and gesturing for Derek to do the same. “I was actually getting ready to call you. Phone in my hand and everything.”
“Really?” Derek smiled, the sincere, rabbit-toothed smile that had always been Stiles’ soft spot. “Erica showed me the prom pictures. It looks like you guys had fun.”
“Danny wouldn’t wear matching bow ties, and Jackson showed up, but other than that it was good,” Stiles said. He hoped their first post-hiatus encounter wouldn’t all be small talk, but he was willing to let Derek ease into the conversation if that’s what he needed. He had been good about keeping his distance. Stiles could reward him a little.
“Danny has good taste,” Derek said wryly. “Although he is best friends with Jackson, so its not impeccable taste.”
“Truer words.”
They sat for a few minutes in not entirely comfortable silence before Derek finally addressed the elephant in the room. “I’m seeing someone,” however, is not what Stiles was hoping for.
“What.”
“Not like that!” Derek hastened to add. “A counselor.”
“Like a therapist?” Stiles asked, brow furrowed.
“She’s a clinical social worker,” Derek corrected. “She’s good. I mean, obviously werewolf problems are off the table, but other than that, it’s not terrible to talk to her. Erica suggested it. She used to see someone.”
Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t this. Derek Hale didn’t talk about his problems, he didn’t work on things like a reasonable adult. This was pod person behavior. It was also awesome.
“That’s great,” Stiles said, giving him a huge smile. “Really, Derek. My dad made me see a counselor, after my mom died. It wasn’t great, but it helped a little. It’s nice to talk to someone outside the situation every once in awhile.”
“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “Laura used to try to make me, back in New York, but I never would. Wasn’t ready, I guess. I thought maybe... Maybe you could come with me, sometime?”
“I could do that,” Stiles said, heart hammering.
“Okay,” Derek said, rising from the table. “I’ll call you in a couple of weeks?”
“Are you coming to graduation?” Stiles asked quickly, not quite ready to see him go.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
X X X X
“I think we should go on a date,” Derek said. He had, of course, waited until Stiles mouth was full of burger to drop that - well, not bombshell, it’s not like it was a total surprise, but they hadn’t talked about it lately. They’d been in San Francisco for three months; Derek drove home once a month to see his counselor and the two of them had worked hard to build a pretty good semblance of the relationship they’d had before. The pack had even started giving the two of them the side eye again lately, but nothing romantic had happened at all. They had talked a lot about why Derek had acted the way he had, and what they both expected from the other if they did move forward, but most of that discussion had been confined to their joint counseling sessions, and at no point in the last three months had they even mentioned the word date or relationship. Stiles had felt ready to move on for some time, but he appreciated that Derek was being cautious and trying to work through his own issues before they complicated things even further. Apparently, Derek was feeling ready as well.
“Oh, you do?” Stiles managed, coughing and sputtering.
“Yeah. A movie, maybe? Or dinner?”
“We’re having dinner right now,” Stiles said, finally getting his breathing under control. “And we’re going to a movie after this.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t a date,” Derek said. “This is two friends getting a bite to eat before they see a movie together. On our date, we will do those things plus make out.”
“I could be amenable to that,” Stiles said, trying for casual. “Could we change this into a date?”
“Nah,” Derek replied. “I’ve been wanting to see this movie for awhile. I don’t want you distracting me with the old yawn-and-stretch.”
“Yeah, like that would be my move,” Stiles scoffed. “I’ll be lucky if you don’t cut a hole in the bottom of the popcorn container.”
Derek laughed. “Even with werewolf healing I don’t want hot butter burning my dick, so you don’t have to worry about that one.”
“Baby,” Stiles said. “Alright, then, you’re on. Since this isn’t a date, you cannot comment when I appreciate the hotness of both Jennifer Lawrence and Tom Hardy tonight. On the other hand, next week we will mack our way through a Nicholas Sparks movie that neither of us want to see, and I won’t say one word about whatever bland hunk or CW actress is starring in it.”
“I can accept those terms,” Derek agreed, smiling fondly at him. “I will probably attempt to hold your hand tonight, though, as a precursor to more physical activities to come.”
“Deal.”