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Stiles has never been good at turning people down. Throughout all of high school, he never really had anyone ask him out. When they did, he never wanted to turn them down. After he reached college and wholly embraced his bisexuality, Stiles started to gain some experience in rejecting people. Well, he got better at hiding in bathrooms until people moved on to look for a different one-night stand. He mastered the awkward first date followed by a “better as friends” talk.
None of his friends have ever wanted to date him, though. Only acquaintances, who got to know Stiles with the intention of kissing him. At least, until now. Danny looks all too nervous, because that’s just not who Danny is. He’s the confident, stable friend who doesn’t experience unrequited love. He doesn’t get rejected.
Something about that makes it so much more difficult when he leans over and presses a kiss to Stiles’ cheeks that’s not platonic in the least. Though Danny doesn’t admit it aloud, Stiles can see something in his face. Overt displays of love don’t seem to be his style, but it’s impossible to know. Stiles has never seen Danny get together with a friend. He’s always been the type to make clear lines between his friendships and relationships; people don’t usually cross from one to the other.
Stiles can feel his cheeks flushing, which almost definitely isn’t going to help matters. Before he can do anything else that might lead Danny on, the college student jumps off the short brick wall they’re currently sitting on. He lands with a slap of his untied sneakers against the pavement. “I’ll see you later, Danny,” he says weakly. Unable to bring himself to look at whatever expression his friend is wearing, Stiles runs off.
Instinctually, his feet carry him to the parking lot rather than his dorm. Stiles crawls into the old Jeep and drives along the familiar path he’s taken a hundred times before. It’s only half-registered in his brain where he’s headed before the nineteen-year-old has pulled up outside Derek’s loft. The older man might not even be home but Stiles doesn’t care. Using the worn key hanging from his chipped yellow key ring, he walks into the familiar apartment and swings the door shut behind him.
“Hey, Der,” he calls, even though, if the werewolf is home, he already knows Stiles is here. Has probably known for the past few minutes.
“Hey,” Derek replies, and Stiles follows the voice towards the bedroom. “What’s wrong?” The alpha shuts the old book he’s leafing through and spins in his chair to look at Stiles. Sighing loudly, Stiles collapses on the werewolf’s bed.
“Are we dating?”
Derek scrunches his eyebrows and makes the face that means he’s considering his words carefully. Stiles is already regretting asking. He feels like it should be obvious but it’s not . Not to him, at least. “I’m not seeing anyone else,” Derek finally settles on, which isn’t all that helpful. Well, it makes Stiles’ heart do a fond, fluttery thing, but it doesn’t really answer his question.
“But, like. Are we official?”
Derek sighs softly and crawls onto the bed next to Stiles, sprawling across him. After a few months of being together, he’s found a way to position most of his weight on the bed while still lying completely on top of Stiles. Usually, it’s enough to stop Stiles’ rambling. This time, however, the younger man just can’t let it go. “What am I supposed to say if someone asks me out?” he finally blurts.
That’s enough to make Derek sit up on Stiles’ waist and pay him full attention. “What,” the alpha asks flatly.
“I think Danny likes me,” Stiles replies, pouting.
Derek makes an unreadable expression. “Do you like him?” he asks eventually, unconsciously curling a possessive hand around Stiles’ hip.
The younger man lets out a disbelieving huff of breath. “No!” he cries out, maybe a bit too loud. Derek startles a bit. “No,” Stiles repeats, his voice calmer. “I’m not seeing anyone other than you, either. I don’t want to.” Derek looks at him, eyebrows very clearly communicating “Then what’s the problem?”
Stiles sighs loudly. “What am I supposed to say?”
Derek mimics his sigh and drops his head to rest on the junction of Stiles’ neck and shoulder. Absently, he mouths at the college student’s neck and mumbles his response. “Say no.”
“But he hasn’t asked me out yet!” Stiles says emphatically. Derek huffs noisily into his skin. “He might just kiss me or something, completely out of nowhere. Or think I like him back. Danny deserves better than that,” Stiles rambles. He only stops when Derek bites his neck. “What do I say?” the younger man whines again. Before Derek can reply, he speaks again. “‘Cause what I wanna do is subtly slide it into the conversation that I’m taken, but I don’t know if I can do that. Because I don’t want to embarrass myself by telling him I have a boyfriend then have it turn out that you don’t actually wanna be with me so it seems like I made it up. Or maybe you want to be with me but you’re embarrassed of me. Are you embarrassed of me?”
Derek bites his neck again, hard . “Do you want to be official?”
Stiles pouts at him. “Yes,” he says tiredly.
“Okay,” Derek replies simply. He then proceeds to start sucking a hickey just beneath Stiles’ collarbone.
The younger man huffs loudly, although he does tilt his head to allow more room. “So… I can call you my boyfriend?” Derek hums affirmatively. “In public?” Derek doesn’t even dignify that with a response. “Can I hold your hand and shit? Get a little bit jealous when the waitress slips you her number?”
Finally, the werewolf pulls away from a freshly forming bruise and sits up, straddling Stiles. “Ye s,” he says flatly.
“Seriously?” the college student replies, sitting up on his elbows. “You know that means people will know that you chose to date me, right? Derek Hale, dating Stiles Stilinski.” The teenager lifts a hand to press it against his maybe-boyfriend’s shoulder. He rubs the smooth skin absently.
“Yes, dumbass,” Derek huffs. He leans down and fondly kisses the younger man.
“Let’s have sex,” Stiles hums softly. “But after I text, like, everyone I know, okay? ‘Cause Derek Hale is my boyfriend .”
Derek rolls his eyes and leans over to hand Stiles his phone.
