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A bright light shines down, temporarily blinding Stiles as he blinks awake. He shifts and feels a painful kink in his neck as he slides slightly on a cold, hard surface.
“Stiles.” The young man glances toward the voice to find Deaton standing over him with a look of concern. “How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a bus.” He groans as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “What happened?”
“That girl you thought was a witch in bio? Turns out she was,” Scott tells him, standing on the other side of the examination table. “You called her out once everyone left the room and she waved her hand all weird at you and you fell unconscious.”
“It was definitely a spell of some sort, but we’ve been waiting for you to wake up to figure out what,” Deaton explains. “Do you feel any different? Any wooziness or strange desires?”
Stiles shakes his head. “No.”
Deaton makes a sound of acknowledgement. “Well, since you’ve been unconscious for some time, we don’t really know what she did to you. If anything strange happens, let me know.”
Stiles nods and hops off the table. “Thanks, doc.” He walks with Scott out to his Jeep and pauses by the driver’s door. “She didn’t do anything to anyone else, did she?”
“Nope. Just you, man,” Scott says. “Then she booked it out of the room and I haven’t seen her since.”
“I told you there was something off with her.”
Scott rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know that now. ”
“Just believe me more often and stuff like this won’t happen.”
“I do believe you, Stiles. It’s just… I mean, she wasn’t doing anything bad, so I don’t think we should’ve cornered her like that.”
“Well, you weren’t going to do anything!” Stiles slams his mouth shut as Scott gives him a look, but then he's talking again, unable to stop himself. “I just mean that you obviously weren’t going to talk to her and I was getting these bad vibes, which you kept brushing off when I told you about them. I knew you didn’t believe me and someone had to do something!”
Scott’s jaw drops and he takes a step back. “What the hell, Stiles?"
“I have no idea where that came from and I’m not sorry. Shit! ”
“Look, I’m just gonna walk home.”
Stiles flails and grabs Scott’s arm. “No, Scott, just… Get in the car. I’ll drive you. Please.”
Scott looks at him for a long moment before he nods. “Okay.”
Stiles sighs and lets go, moving away as he watches Scott climb into the vehicle. He slowly walks around to the driver’s side, trying to figure out what could’ve caused him to say that. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that it was all the truth, not one word a lie.
What the hell is going on?
Stiles stares at the computer screen as he scrolls through endless search results on his web browser, getting more frustrated by the second. A sudden cold breeze has him looking up as Derek steps inside and he notices that his tension and negative feelings wash away.
“Hey,” Derek greets, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Scott told me what happened. Are you okay?”
“No,” Stiles says automatically, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been researching for hours, but I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
“You still don’t feel any different?”
“Aside from spewing out the truth and just wanting a hug from you, no.” Stiles’ eyes widen the second the words are out and tears his gaze away from Derek, who looks genuinely surprised.
“It sounds to me like a truth spell.”
Stiles focuses back on his computer. “Yeah, I figured that out. But everything I’m finding says it can only be given verbally or touch. Like a drink or an embrace.” He pauses and closes his eyes, feeling heat rush up his cheeks. “But Scott says that she didn’t do either of those. Just waved her hand and I was out.”
“She must be powerful,” Derek replies casually. “Perhaps she’s an immortal.”
Stiles glances over at the werewolf. “Those exist?”
Derek poorly hides a smile, looking utterly amused. “Most fairytale and bedtime story creatures exist. You’ve only seen a handful.”
“Great.”
“Seems you’ve got everything under control here, so I’ll just head out.”
Stiles jumps to his feet. “Wait!” Derek pauses and glances back at him, raising a brow when Stiles’ hands clench into fists at his sides. “Do you have to go?”
Derek turns completely around to look at him, both eyebrows high on his forehead. “What?”
Stiles bites his lip, then blurts out, “I want you to stay.”
“Stay…the night?”
“Yes.” Stiles clamps down on the inside of his cheek painfully, hating the spell more and more.
Derek is quiet for a long moment before he gestures to the door. “I guess I’d better join you for dinner, then.”
Stiles sputters then slowly nods and leads him down to the kitchen. His father looks up at them as he opens the pizza box. He hands them each a paper plate, lips pulled up in a grin.
“Figured since you were taking so long up there you’d be bringing a friend with ya,” his father says as he takes a seat. “How are you doing, Derek?”
Derek sits down on one of the empty chairs after placing two pieces on his plate. “I’m good, thanks.”
Stiles moves the last chair close to Derek and peers over at him after feeling his gaze. Concern flickers in his hazel eyes and Stiles looks back down at his food as he sits. “Thanks for dinner, dad. But next time, you’re not getting any pepperoni or meat lovers. I seriously don’t know what I’d do if you died of a heart attack from too much meat.”
“I’m fine, kiddo. One cheat day won’t kill me.”
“You don’t know that. No one does.” Stiles pokes at his food, jaw clenched. He feels Derek bump their knees together and glances over at the werewolf. Derek’s smiling at him. It’s small, but it’s there, even as he starts eating.
The rest of dinner is quiet, Derek and the sheriff making small talk while they finish off the pizza. Once it’s over, Stiles’ father goes into the other room and turns on some TV, leaving Derek and Stiles alone in the kitchen.
“Is there anything I can do to help you?” Derek asks.
“Just…” Stiles presses his fist against his mouth, trying to hold back the words aching to come out.
“Stiles.”
At the soft tone, Stiles smacks both hands on the table in frustration. “All I want you to do is stay the night and cuddle with me. And when you leave in the morning, I want to go with you. I would follow you anywhere, Derek. I constantly want to be by your side and hold your hand and snuggle with you and—”
“Okay, okay.” Derek places one hand over Stiles’ as the boy slowly gets worked up. “I can stay tonight. I’m sure your father won’t mind.”
“Yeah, only because I’m eighteen now. If it was six months ago, he would’ve had his shotgun aimed at your head at this point.”
They both chuckle in the quiet room. Stiles glances at his hand, Derek’s still resting over it. His gaze flickers to Derek to find the man already staring at him.
“Stiles,” Derek whispers, gaze swiveling to his lips. The space between them gets smaller as they lean in closer to each other.
A throat clears from the kitchen entrance and they jerk away, Stiles flailing his arms and nearly falling off his chair.
“Don’t you two have a pack night at the loft tonight?” his father asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“Oh shit! I totally forgot!” Stiles exclaims, jumping from his seat. He looks at Derek anxiously. “Can you drive?”
Derek smiles as he gets to his feet. “Of course.” He meets the sheriff’s gaze and inclines his head. “You alright if he stays the night?”
The sheriff shrugs a shoulder. “He’s done it before without my consent so there’s no point in stopping him. I trust you.”
The tips of Derek’s ears turn red, his tone humble. “Thank you, sir.”
“We’ve talked about this. It’s John.”
“Right. Sorry.” Derek puts his hand on the small of Stiles back and walks out to the Camaro with him. They both climb in and Derek heads to the loft.
“Sorry about the, uh, the almost-kiss back there,” Stiles mumbles as he stares out the window. “I was just saying stuff I couldn’t stop from saying—nor wanted to stop from saying. And then you were looking at me and then our hands and—”
“Stiles, it’s fine,” Derek says gently. “I know you’re not able to hold anything back with your words right now, but I don’t mind.”
Stiles peers over at the werewolf questioningly. “Really?”
Derek glances at him with a small smile. “Really. Let’s go have some fun with the rest of the pack. You won’t even have to worry about the truth spell.”
Nodding, Stiles gets out once Derek parks and follows him up to his living space. The pack is already inside the loft—Scott let them in with his key—and turning on a movie, a variety of snack foods scattered across the coffee table.
“Hey, you finally made it!” Erica shouts with a grin. “And you came together! Took you guys long enough.”
Stiles halts in the middle of the room, Derek right beside him. “What?”
“We all know you have a thing for Derek,” Jackson says before he takes a sip of his soda. “It’s kind of obvious.”
Stiles feels the blood drain from his face even as the words spill out of his mouth, “Yeah, I know. I’m not very subtle in that regard.”
The pack all stares at him for a moment in shocked silence.
“You what?” Lydia asks as Jackson busts out laughing.
“I have a crush on Derek and I’m not subtle about it. At all.” Derek looks at him with bewilderment and concern. Too late to turn back, Stiles tosses his hands in the air, a blush quickly rising up his cheeks. “I don’t know why you’re all surprised! I’m sure you could smell the arousal and shit.”
“Yeah, it reeks!” Jackson says once he calms down.
“Shut up, Jackson,” Malia snaps. “Can’t you see he’s upset?”
“He shouldn’t have said anything, then.”
“I can’t stop myself, you asshole!” Stiles yells. “Look, all I want to do is watch a movie with you all and cuddle up with Derek on the couch and forget this ever happened.” Jackson cracks up again, toppling off the loveseat. Lydia rolls her eyes and gives Stiles a sympathetic look. Tears of embarrassment fill his eyes as Stiles looks away from the group.
“Stiles,” Derek says softly, a hand on his shoulder.
A part of Stiles wants to shrug it off and run out, but the other part—the part that’s being controlled by the spell—has him leaning into the touch. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”
“Dude, it’s pack night,” Scott states, sounding almost accusatory. “You can’t just spend it with Derek.”
“I want to because I’m…I’m lonely. I mean, you all have someone and I…I have no one. Derek and I get along really well and I’ve been pining after him for a while. I can’t help it. I’ve tried to ignore my crush, to get over it, but I just can’t. And I feel less lonely when he’s around and…” A tear slips down Stiles’ cheek and then he finally breaks away, dashing up the spiral staircase. He hears Derek, Lydia, Erica, and Isaac yell after him, but ignores them all as he hides in the first bathroom he sees, locking the door behind him. He sits on the lid of the toilet and lets the tears fall, gripping his hair tightly.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “Why did this have to happen to me?”
He stays in there for a while as he breaks down, trying to ignore the fact that the pack can hear everything. He slumps to the floor and curls up into a ball, his mind in an endless self-loathing loop.
After what feels like forever, a knock sounds on the door. Stiles lifts his head, wishing for a brief moment that he were a werewolf so he would know who was on the other side.
“Stiles, open the door,” Derek’s voice carries through the wood, soft and gentle. Stiles pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth, refusing to say a word. “Everyone’s gone. It’s just you and me. Come out.” Sighing, he gets to his feet and reluctantly opens the door, wiping at his eyes. Arms wrap around him and pull him against a hard chest, which he nearly melts against. “Did you still want to watch a movie with me tonight?”
Stiles nods, letting the feeling of warmth and comfort wash over him. “Please.”
“Alright, you can pick the movie.” Stiles smiles and holds Derek’s hand as the werewolf leads him downstairs. He wanders over to the movie selection and picks one out, putting it in the DVD player. He curls up on the couch next to Derek, snuggling closer when he feels the man wrap an arm around him. He stays quiet the rest of the night, not feeling the need to comment on anything for once.
The morning light streams in through the large window in the loft, pulling Stiles from his sleep. He blinks a few times as memories of yesterday come back. He sits up and finds he’s alone on the couch with a light blanket over him, the TV shut off, all the lights off and the front door locked.
He swallows thickly and tosses the blanket aside, standing up with a stretch. Glancing around for his keys, he pauses, remembering that Derek drove them here. He lets out a heavy sigh and fixes his laces before he unlocks the door and heads out. He walks down the steps, the metal thunking loudly under his feet. He reaches the sidewalk and starts to head in the direction of his house when Derek runs up to him. He stops and stares at the shirtless man before him, sweat glistening off his skin, hair damp and pushed back.
“You’re up early,” Derek greets.
“Sun woke me up,” Stiles replies. “Damn, you look hot .”
“Uh, thanks. Where are you going?”
Stiles blinks and finally tears his gaze away from Derek’s chest. “Home.”
Derek's expression immediately changes from friendly and kind to concerned in a split second. “On foot? That’s thirty minutes away and it’s not exactly warm outside today. Why didn’t you just wait for me?”
Stiles shrugs and scuffs his shoe on the pavement. “I didn’t think you wanted me around anymore since I woke up alone.”
“I went for a run. I didn’t think you’d be up by the time I got back.”
“Well, I was. And I felt kinda stupid for even staying over.”
Derek takes a step closer, one hand reaching out but halting in midair before he pulls it back to his side. “Don’t feel stupid. I was the stupid one for leaving you alone. Come on, I’ll make it up with some breakfast.”
Stiles grins and follows him back up to the loft. He sits down on the couch and watches Derek move around the kitchen. He wraps his arms around his bent legs and rests his chin on his knees.
“You’re really attractive when you’re in the kitchen like that,” he blurts.
Derek glances back at him with an amused grin. “In the kitchen cooking?” Stiles nods as heat rushes up his neck and cheeks, Derek’s chuckle echoing in the space around them.
“So I was thinking we could go talk to Deaton today, see if he has anything that could help you,” Derek says after they finish eating.
“I’ve never trusted the guy,” Stiles replies. “But if you think he’ll be able to help, sure.”
“He’s our best chance right now since the internet gave you nothing.”
Stiles sticks his tongue out at him. “Research is a lot harder than you think, dude.”
Derek shakes his head as he grabs his keys and walks with Stiles out to the Camaro. “Then why do you always insist on doing it for us?”
“I don’t really do it for anyone but you. And because I like you.”
Derek hums, both getting in the car. “I don’t think you need to keep reminding me of that. I already know.”
Stiles scowls at him as he buckles his seatbelt, Derek peeling out of the parking lot. “You think I like repeating myself? It just keeps happening. I just really really like you.”
Derek lets out a soft sigh, but doesn’t say anything as he keeps driving. Stiles turns his attention out the window, watching all the colors blur as they pass through the city. The rest of the drive is quiet save for the purring of the Camaro’s engine. They pull up in front of the vet’s clinic and walk inside.
“Derek, Stiles,” Deaton greets as he looks up from some papers on the front counter. “How can I help you?”
“It was a truth spell,” Stiles tells him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What the witch did to me. I have no control over what I’m saying.”
“Ah, then it must’ve been a powerful one. Most truth spells I know of have to be given orally or by touch.”
“I know. We already figured that out.”
“We just need help finding a cure, if possible,” Derek says.
Deaton looks contemplative for a moment. “I think I may have something. One moment.”
Stiles glances over at Derek as the doctor goes into the back. Derek’s expression is closed off, staring straight ahead. “I wish I hadn’t gotten hit by this spell so it hadn’t ruined anything between us.”
Derek turns to him after a moment. “You didn’t ruin anything, Stiles.”
“But you’re mad at me.”
“No, I’m not,” Derek mutters, eyes softening slightly. “You don’t have any control—”
“Would you stop saying that? I already know I don’t have control! I don’t need a stupid reminder!”
Derek’s jaw clenches, gaze darkening, and Stiles internally curses. Deaton comes out of the back with a small book in his hand at that moment, saving Stiles from saying anything else. They both turn to him and move closer to the counter.
Deaton opens up the book to a random page, then points at the truth spell section. “I have an appointment coming in any minute so I don’t have time to read anything right now. But take a look at this and see if you can find anything. Let me know if you need any help.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Stiles grumbles as he takes the book and walks out of the clinic.
He gets in the Camaro and immediately starts sifting through book. He keeps his focus on it as Derek slides behind the wheel and drives. Stiles skims through the unique drawings and languages that have been written into the parchment, some of them so old they’re too faded to be legible.
He glances up when he feels Derek’s eyes on him and finds that they’ve arrived at the loft. “Why didn’t you drop me off at my place?”
“I’m going to help you research,” Derek says simply. Stiles closes the book, gets out and heads up the stairs. He hears Derek leave the vehicle and follow after him. “Stiles.”
“Don’t worry about it, Derek. We’ll get this figured out so I can get out of your hair. I know I’m just annoying you by now.”
He stops by the loft’s door and waits for Derek, who appears a second later, brow pulled down in his infamous scowl. Stiles rolls his eyes and walks past him into the living area, plopping down on the couch.
The book is abruptly yanked out of his hands and Stiles stares up at Derek. “What the hell?”
“I’ll look through this, you go get your laptop,” Derek tells him as he sits down on the recliner, opening the book.
“I couldn’t find anything on the internet! That’s why we went to Deaton, remember?!”
“You can research these images and words. Unless you understand them?” Derek’s gaze flickers to him questioningly and Stiles sighs, getting up and grabbing his laptop. He situates himself back on the couch and turns the device on.
A few hours later, Derek heaves a heavy sigh and closes the book as Stiles leans back against the plush cushions.
“That was pointless,” Stiles mutters.
Derek stands up and looks at him. “How are you feeling? Need to spout off any random information?”
Stiles scowls at him, then sits upright and closes his laptop. “Thanks for the help, but I want to go home. Can you give me a ride?” Stiles doesn’t notice the look of dismay on Derek’s face as he picks up the book. When he turns back to the werewolf, a scowl is set in place and Derek gestures him to the front door.
Derek drops Stiles off at his house without another word and he goes up to his room, setting both the laptop and book on the desk. He falls down on his bed and screams into his pillow, letting out all the frustration that had been building up the past two days. He rolls his head over and stares at the clock as the minutes slowly go by.
Stiles pulls his phone out of his pocket and glares at it before going to his messages and pulling up his conversation with Derek. He sits up and looks down at the screen, biting his lip. His lack of control from the spell has him typing out a text and sending it before he throws himself backward.
“I hate this spell,” he mumbles while he glares up at the ceiling.
“What do you want Stiles?” Stiles flails as Derek climbs through the window and stands beside it, hands in his pockets.
“I want you.” Stiles curses and punches the mattress as he looks away. “Look, I just want you to stay nearby and hang out and maybe cuddle because I can't get you off my mind.”
A sigh. “I can’t do that.”
Stiles looks over at him with wide eyes. “What?”
Derek’s shoulders are hunched over, gaze on the floor. “I can’t stick around. Not right now.”
“Why not? Is it because of everything I’ve said?” Stiles gets to his feet and takes a step toward the werewolf. “Because if you’re worried I don’t want this—you—you’re wrong. I do. I haven’t been able to lie at all. Everything I’ve said is true.”
“Stiles, you haven’t wanted to say a word of what’s come out of your mouth in the past twenty-four hours. I know it’s all true, but…it’s not fair to you.”
“What, you want me to lie instead? I can’t really do that!”
“I know that. But you can’t really stay away from me either and I don’t want you to do something because of the spell when you’re really not ready for it.”
Stiles flails again, his throat tightening, eyes burning. “I don’t want you to leave because I’m lonely and you’re the only one who’s been willing and able to spend time with me nowadays!” Derek leans back, looking as though he’s been hit in the face. “Scott’s always busy with Malia, Lydia has Jackson, Isaac, Boyd and Erica are always hanging out, but none of them even think of asking how I’m doing! You’re the only one, Derek!
“And you’re right, I haven’t wanted to say anything. Mainly because I didn’t think you’d care, just like the rest of the pack. I’ve wanted to keep it all inside because I’ve been terrified of what it would do to us, to our friendship, and I haven’t wanted to ruin that. Also, have you seen me? I’m not much to look at.” Stiles takes a deep breath then wipes at the tears running down his cheeks, turning away. “You know what? Just go. I don’t want you here anymore.”
“Stiles, I—”
“I said go! ” Stiles crumples to the floor after hearing the rustle of Derek’s clothes slowly fade and disappear out the window, sobs wracking his body. His father finds him an hour later, curled up in the same spot, and just holds him.
“Not tonight, Scotty,” Stiles mutters into the phone as he walks up to his front door.
“ Dude, it’s pack night ,” Scott argues. “ You’ve never missed one! ”
“I don’t want to go and I’m not going to. Sorry.”
“ Why not? Is it because of the spell? Is it still bothering you? ”
Stiles walks inside his house, closing and locking the door behind him. “It doesn’t matter the reason. I’m not going. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, he ends the call and wanders up to his room. He sits down at his desk, drags his backpack closer, and starts researching for his English paper.
Time passes quickly and the next thing he knows, someone’s tapping on his window. Glancing over, he sees the sun has set, his monitor casting an eerie glow in his room. The tapping sounds again and Stiles sighs, getting up and unlocking it. Derek peeks his head in, handing him a paper.
Stiles scowls, but takes the paper and skims over it. “You want me to research a centaur?”
“It attacked some of your peers last night. Malia saw it—briefly—before it disappeared,” Derek explains.
“Weird. They were usually pretty domestic.” Stiles walks back to his desk and sets the paper down, fingers flying over the keyboard. He listens to Derek climb into the room, but keeps his gaze on the screen in front of him.
Silence falls between them and, by the sound of Derek’s shuffling, it’s getting awkward for him.
“You made this centaur up,” Stiles states a few minutes later.
“What?” Derek sounds surprised, halting all movement.
Stiles spins his chair and glares at Derek. “You made it up. Centaurs have been extinct for over two hundred years and the last known one was in New Zealand. There’s no spells to create one or bring one back from the dead. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. So what are you really doing here, Derek?”
Derek’s brow pulls down into a scowl. “Forget it.”
“I did piss you off, didn’t I?” Stiles whispers before he’s jumping out of his chair as Derek turns to leave. “That spell ruined everything we had, didn’t it? You were just pretending to be nice the entire time.” Stiles scoffs and shakes his head. “Well, that’ll make it easier to get over you.”
“Stiles, shut up!” Derek snap, whirling around and slamming Stiles against the wall. Stiles opens his mouth to yell at him when the werewolf’s tongue slips inside, their lips smashing together, teeth clacking. Stiles’ brain immediately shuts down, shock washing over him, before he’s kissing Derek back. His fingers slide into Derek’s hair, the other hand gripping his shoulder as he lets the other man take control. The kiss is rough and impatient and urgent, but Stiles can feel the longing behind it.
They break apart for air, faces flushed as they stare into each other’s eyes.
“So, I, um, didn’t make you mad?” Stiles asks softly.
“You could never make me mad, Stiles,” Derek replies, voice just as quiet. “I was only upset because you obviously didn’t like blurting all that out. I wanted you to be able to say it on your own terms.”
“But what about you not…you know…saying you couldn’t?”
Derek sighs and rests his forehead against Stiles’, closing his eyes. “I didn't believe it, honestly. I could hear the steadiness of your heart, but I just…I never thought you could fall for me.”
“Why not?” Stiles places both hands on either side of Derek’s face, looking him in the eye. “Derek, you are the most selfless person I have ever known. You have the biggest heart. Anyone would be blind to not see that. That truth spell was a pain in the ass, but it helped me—us—in the end, right?”
A blinding smile shines on Derek’s face. “Right.”
Stiles smiles back and pulls Derek into another kiss, this one slow and gentle, both of them pouring all of their feelings into it. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek, holding onto him tightly, silently thanking the witch who started it all.