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can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
The first thing Derek noticed when he slid open the heavy door to his loft was that it looked and smelled remarkably clean for him not living in it in over a year and a half.
The fact that his own scent was barely present wasn’t much of a shock as he hadn’t been back in so long. Rather, he was more concerned about the fact that it smelt like home . A rich cinnamon scent with hints of evergreen and an undercurrent of pine tickled at his nostrils, and he was shocked to find that it was not only familiar, but it calmed him.
He walked over to the kitchen nook and placed his bag on the countertop. There was a faint scent of a pine-y cleaner that leaned more towards a tickle rather than a full invasion of his senses and it was more present in this room than the entryway. The chemicals from the cleaner were so faint that he was almost concerned that he could smell them at all. Whoever had been keeping his place clean knew that if he came back, he’d be able to smell the products, and must have chosen a more neutral cleaner for that reason.
Instead of focusing on the products that had kept his loft so clean, he focused on the fact that someone had cleaned his place in his absence.
He just didn’t know who.
He figured that whoever did it must be in the pack since they all had keys; most people wouldn’t break in and clean a place instead of robbing it. The scent that overpowered his nose was that of cinnamon and evergreen, the pine undertone coming from the cleaner, and while it felt familiar, he couldn’t quite place it.
With a determined sigh, Derek decided he needed to figure out who it was. While his scent was incredibly faded, the cinnamon one was also verging on doing the same and he didn’t like that. The cleanliness of his place was incredible for the amount of time he was gone, but it looked like it had been a while since whoever cleaned had done it last. He figured that within the next week, he’d figure out who decided to play housekeeper for him, if only so he could finally place the scent that smelt like home and bring it back.
-0-
It took less than 24 hours for the pack to find out he was back in town. Lydia spotted him in the grocery store when he went to restock his fridge. She was dressed as classy as always, with high heels and a skirt that sat far above her knee.
“So, you’re back.” She stated the obvious with a quirk of her eyebrow. “Were you even going to tell anyone?”
Derek tensed; Lydia had a way of scaring even the strongest werewolf, and at the moment Derek was far from that, feeling off balance at the sudden reunion. “I was,” He replied, coolly.
“When? Before you leave again without so much as a goodbye? Just a head nod and then you’ll be off once more?”
They were never close; he knew that she was talking from a place of hurt and while it may not have been her hurt, it was someone she cared deeply about.
“I came back,” He said weakly, which only caused Lydia to scowl further and tighten her grip on the handbasket she had tucked in the nook of her elbow.
She said nothing, but tensed herself when she heard, “Lydia, did you get the flour? I can’t make healthy fried chicken without flour.”
Derek’s nose turned towards the scent of the person speaking before his eyes did; it was the cinnamon and evergreen mix. Quickly darting his eyes away from Lydia’s intense stare, he realized it was Stiles, who was now stopped in the middle of the aisle just looking at them. He blinked his eyes hard, rubbing at them with a hand before opening them wider than before.
“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered under his breath, “Derek?”
Unsure of how to respond, Derek just nodded stiffly; when did Stiles start smelling so good? Why was his scent in his loft? Did he clean his loft while he was away? Why did he smell like home ?
Stiles started walking towards them when Lydia twisted her head sharply to mouth something at Stiles. Derek watched as the two had a conversation with their eyes and started gripping his hands on the cart in front of him.
“I can’t believe you’re back, big guy.” Stiles said, finally stopping in front of him. Lydia was still glaring at him, but Derek couldn’t find it within himself to care.
“You’ve been cleaning my house.” Derek stated without meaning to. Stiles flushed a deep pink; it started at the tips of his ears and traveled down to the start of his shirt. Derek trailed it with his eyes, wondering where the blush stopped exactly.
“I, uh, yeah. I have. I figured the dust might irritate your senses when you got back.”
Lydia just continued glaring, “If. If he got back.”
Stiles frowned slightly, looking like he was about to argue. Instead of getting the chance to say anything, Lydia spoke again, “It was good to see you, Hale. We need to finish shopping for dinner.”
Derek’s brows furrowed together in a deep v, “Dinner.” He stated. “You guys are having dinner?”
Stiles nodded, not seeming to understand what Derek was implying, “Yeah. We have a weekly date night.”
Derek wasn’t exactly sure why, but hearing Stiles say that made him release a small growl, inaudible to the younger man, but definitely not to Lydia with her banshee hearing. She smirked at him and cocked a hip to readjust her stance, looking as cocky as her smile did.
“Jealous?” She sneered, eyes narrowing from her wide grin.
Stiles laughed, “Funny, Lyds.” He looked back at Derek with wide eyes, “It was just gonna be us and our parents. But since you’re back in town, why don’t you come? We can make it a pack thing. I’m sure the others would love to see you.”
Derek’s pride wanted him to say no, thanks a lot, but I can cook for myself. Instead, he found himself saying, “Sure, sounds great.”
Stiles’ flush started again when Derek looked at him, “Cool, cool. Well, we need to finish shopping. Dinner will be at around 7. You still remember where my dad’s house is, right?”
Derek grunted, “I was gone for a year, not ten.”
Stiles frowned, rubbing at the space above his heart. “Felt like it to some,” Lydia stated, looking at the flour selection in front of her. She grabbed two bags and turned to Stiles, “We’ll need more chicken.”
-0-
When Derek arrived at the Stilinski residence, he felt nervous. It’d been so long since he’d talked to the pack, even longer since he’d seen them in person. But he could smell the scent of cinnamon and evergreen getting closer to the door the longer he stood, and he felt his nerves relax slightly.
As he lifted his fist to knock, the door swung open, “Are you going to just stand there all night?”
Derek huffed at Stiles as he stepped past him, their shoulders brushing briefly, “No.”
Stiles closed the door and clapped Derek on the shoulder, his hand lingering for a moment, “I’m glad you came, the others are already out back. The chicken’s almost done.”
Derek followed Stiles through the house and into the kitchen. He saw the sheriff sitting at the counter tapping his fingers as he watched a woman Derek didn’t recognize placing chicken breasts in what looked like an egg-white wash.
“Sheriff,” Derek said.
The man looked away from the woman and to Derek, a small smile appearing on his face, “It’s good to see you, Derek. And call me John.” He motioned to the woman he had been looking at and said, “I don’t know if you’ve ever met, but this is Natalie.”
She looked up with a grin, “Lydia’s mom.”
“Nice to meet you, Natalie.” She smiled in return and put her focus back on the dinner.
The sheriff, John , looked back to the bowl and sighed, “Why do I have to be singled out when it comes to heart healthy fried chicken.”
Derek balked, “I thought you were joking,” he said to Stiles, who stood next to Natalie and placed the egg covered chicken in flour.
“I never joke about my dad’s health.” He said solemnly, before his face broke into a grin, “But don’t worry, all the ‘wolfs get true fried chicken. Grease and all.”
John just grumbled under his breath, making Natalie smile at him.
Derek waited to see the rest of the pack until the two in the kitchen were finished cooking. He helped carry a plate of chicken and bowl of salad out to the back porch where a few picnic tables were set up.
“Derek!” Erica cried out, jumping up from where she had been sitting on Boyd’s lap and rushing over to him, “I missed you.” She mumbled into his neck with a grip around his body like a python.
“I missed you guys, too.” He breathed, placing a hand on her neck.
Isaac came up to him soon after Erica released her hold and gave him a silent hug. Boyd raised a hand and dropped it with a nod. Scott clapped him on the back and said, “Glad you’re home. Kira wanted me to tell you she wishes she were here, but she sends her regards from Japan.” Lydia was still glaring at him like he had called her a siren. Allison was also glaring at him. Strange , he thought.
Stiles clapped his hands together behind him, breaking his reverie from the many well-wishers with the announcement that dinner was ready.
your best friend always sticking up for you, even when I know you’re wrong?
“Do you know why Lydia is so mad at me?” Derek asked Boyd, who sat across from him in the living room. The two were watching as Erica and Isaac battled it out on Mario Kart while sitting on the floor. When he was gone, Stiles had bought him not only a television, but brought over his games as well. Derek was beginning to wonder just how much time Stiles had spent in the loft while he was away.
“Yes.” He said simply, not bothering to expand on the thought.
Derek huffed and turned the question towards Erica. While Boyd knew everything as the silent onlooker to most conversations, Erica was usually the one to use the informaton to gossip. “Do you mind telling me why she’s mad.”
Erica paused the game and turned towards Derek, as did Isaac. Isaac had big puppy dog eyes that reminded Derek of Scott in that moment; he was looking at Erica with a disapproving look which she didn’t even acknowledge.
Erica grinned and waved the controller to the room, “S-,” She stopped herself, “Some people didn’t exactly take your leaving easily. We were hurt and she’s just being angry for someone who won’t,” She paused again, as if trying to find a better word, “ Can’t be angry with you.”
Derek’s eyes turned to slits, “You realize that’s the least amount of gossipy gossip you’ve ever told me? You’re normally all up and ready to tell me exactly what is going on.”
“Things change,” she shrugged, turning back towards the game and pressing play.
Derek looked back at Boyd, who just lifted his shoulders in a what can you do motion.
Derek sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “I didn’t leave because I wanted to. I left because I had to.”
Erica paused the game again, turning on Derek with a small snarl to her lip, “You didn’t have to leave, Derek. And you certainly didn’t have to leave without saying goodbye.”
Isaac poked her in the ribs to get her to calm down, while Derek just sat in his chair trying to shrink himself into it.
Boyd grunted, “You didn’t have to leave, but you did. It’s okay. Can’t change the past. We get it. But you’re pack and we missed you. We didn’t think you were coming back,” Boyd tapped his finger to the couch, “Well, most of us didn’t. But we just wanted you to be happy, even if it isn’t with us.”
“That’s bullshit, babe. And you know it.” Erica said, putting her attention back on the game.
Isaac just shook his head, “It’s okay that you left, Derek. We just wish you did it in a better way.”
Erica smacked him across the arm, her character running off the track and into a sandpit, “It is not okay that he left.”
Boyd rolled his eyes, “He was always going to leave, at some point. Just be happy he’s back. Even if it isn’t forever.”
Derek knew that Boyd was truly okay with his up and leaving. His heart hadn’t lied, at least. He knew Boyd was his favorite for a reason.
can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance
Derek only found out that Lydia and Stiles weren’t dating when he smelt Stiles down the hall from him on a Tuesday. He was laughing with Derek’s neighbor about something that he hadn’t caught.
Derek stared at the two from the open door to the loft as they spoke for a moment, Stiles saying something about Friday sounding good and handing over his phone nervously to get, what Derek guessed was, the man’s number.
He quickly said goodbye and Derek shut the loft door softly so Stiles wouldn’t know he was lurking. He didn’t even bother opening it for Stiles, as he just barged in like he always had.
“Hey, big guy.” Derek grunted in response, “Always so talkative. Such a wonderful conversationalist.”
Stiles rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen, where he ducked under the sink to grab cleaning supplies that Derek didn’t even know he owned. They must be left over from the last time Stiles’ cleaned.
“You know I can do that, right?” Derek said, trying in vain not to look at Stiles’ ass as he was bent over, “You don’t have to do that anymore.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t have to do it in the first place.”
Stiles stopped gathering the supplies and stood to look at Derek with a sad smile on his face, “It was the only thing that kept me connected to you.”
Derek didn’t know what to say, feeling guilty all over again for leaving.
“You didn’t answer any texts or calls. I tried to email you. I even looked into how to train a carrier pigeon, but then I realized I didn’t even know where you were.” Stiles paused to start gathering supplies again, “Didn’t even know if you were okay.”
Derek was about to say something when Stiles cleared his throat and said, “I only knew you were alive because Scott said he could still feel the pack bond, that it would snap in half if you died.”
Derek watched as Stiles gripped the countertop until his knuckles turned white. “I didn’t mind that you left,” Derek could hear the telltale skip of his beat that indicated that Stiles was lying, or at the very least, not telling the whole truth. “I just missed you.”
Derek felt his throat closing up slightly and coughed to try and get his breath to even out.
“I started coming over just to get away from everyone else, at first.” Stiles said, letting go of the cabinet and spraying a pine-y scented cleaner on the counter before wiping it up with a towel. “Then I started cleaning because it smelled like dust. And then I continued doing it because I wanted the place clean if you ever came back.”
“When.” Derek said, remembering what he said in the store when they first saw each other after so long, “When. Not if.”
Stiles smiled and rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, when .”
Stiles stayed and let Derek observe him walk around cleaning and dusting off the furniture of Derek’s loft, but denied any help he offered. It was relatively a quiet experience, but Derek couldn’t help but notice how the scent of home only got stronger the longer Stiles was there.
-0-
Stiles sat on the couch, finally done with the cleaning. “My dad wants me to cook him and Natalie and Lydia dinner again.”
Derek’s stomach rolled, “Are you guys like, double dating?”
Stiles barked out a laugh, before realizing that Derek was serious, and toning it down to an awkward chuckle, “Oh, uh. No. Our parents are. Dating, that is. Lydia is still with Jackson, even though he’s a douche and refused to visit for the summer,” Stiles rolled his eyes in fond annoyance, “I am as single as you can get,” Stiles sighed and then backpedalled, “Not you , you. Just, in general. Nevermind.”
Derek huffed out a laugh and couldn’t help the warmth that bubbled up through his chest at the fact Stiles wasn’t dating Lydia. It turned to ice when Stiles continued, “But I have a date this Friday!”
Derek scowled; he knew about the date. But he wasn’t expecting Stiles to be so happy about it. Derek didn’t know why it made his stomach turn to lead.
“Cool,” Derek muttered, standing up from the couch and gathering the supplies to put away.
Stiles must have sensed the change in Derek’s mood because he stood up and grabbed his keys that sat on the counter. “Well, I’ll be off then. Gotta get to cookin’.” Derek nodded and ushered him out.
-0-
Derek was lurking. He felt only a little shame in that fact. Actually, no. He felt no shame at all. He was lurking, and he was proud. If only he was a little more subtle. He was currently sat in the Camaro (why hadn’t he taken his more discreet SUV?) across from the diner that Stiles and Derek’s neighbor were having their date in.
When he found out about Stiles’ date with Derek’s neighbor on Tuesday, he knew he had to figure out what exactly was going on. Why now? Why with Derek’s neighbor? And why was the guy so incredibly creepy ?
Derek knew three things about his neighbor: he was a guy, he was a guy in his early twenties, he was a guy in his early twenties with a fascination for serial killers.
Derek didn’t even know his name! They hadn’t met before, the man moved in while Derek was away. He only knew that the guy had a thing for serial killers because he wouldn’t stop talking to Stiles about the facts that the many movies on Ted Bundy got wrong. Every. Single. Fact.
Derek could see Stiles through the window, nodding to whatever the man was saying and inching slowly towards the edge of the booth like he was about to make a run for it.
If Derek didn’t know for sure that Stiles would question why he was watching him on his date, he would go in there and stop it. In fact, he was considering doing just that when he got a text that said, “If you’re going to sit there all night and make sure my virtue is intact, the least you could do is make sure I survive long enough to lose it by GETTING ME OUT OF HERE!!”
Derek cursed to himself for getting caught before he hopped out of the car and rushed into the diner, “Stiles, there’s an emergency with your dad.”
Stiles’ eyes widened and he turned to Derek’s neighbor and said, “I’m so sorry, I have to run. My dad. You get it.”
Derek could tell that Stiles really didn’t care if the guy got it or not, watching as he slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table to cover the food and rushed towards Derek.
He grabbed Stiles elbow and led him to the Camaro, only stopping to open the car door for Stiles. When Derek got in the car he pointed the vehicle towards the Stilinski house.
“Ugh, that was terrible.” Stiles moaned into his hands. “I try to get over someone by getting under a serial killer apprentice? Just my luck.”
Derek’s stomach bottomed out at the idea of Stiles underneath the man they just rushed away from, but said, “It’s not so bad.”
“You’re right. At least you came out of the shadows and saved the day,” he slapped Derek’s arm playfully and Derek was glad it was dark enough out that Stiles couldn’t see his blush.
“Why were you there, anyways?” Stiles asked, leaning his head against the window, but eyes towards Derek.
Derek grunted as he pulled to a stop in front of Stiles’ house, lying when he said, “I was doing a perimeter check. Wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Stiles looked upset at that, opening his door and biting out a tense: “I can take care of myself, Hale. I did it for nearly two years while you were gone.”
The door slammed shut and Derek couldn’t find it in himself to be irritated.
five hour phone conversation
Derek only called Stiles because he felt that if he entered his room right now through the window to apologize, he’d get pushed off the roof. He was pacing back and forth in the kitchen when the trill of the phone stopped and was replaced with, “Hello?”
“It’s Derek.”
He could almost hear Stiles rolling his eyes, “I know that, doofus. What do you want?”
He was silent for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry,” he rushed to say, “I shouldn’t have been interrupting your date like that. I am trying to figure out where I belong since I’m not alpha anymore, and it’s more difficult than I realized.”
“So,” Stiles extended the word well past necessary, “You were watching me to make sure I was okay because you don’t know how to be a beta anymore?”
“Yes,” Derek lied. He didn’t even know why he was watching Stiles, but he knew he shouldn’t have been.
“Okay, sure,” Stiles breathed out, “Wanna stay on the phone while I sign up for freshman classes? I’m kinda bored with music and TV for background noise.”
Derek huffed out a laugh and went to sit on the couch, “Sure.”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” Derek repeated back, “What classes are you thinking of taking?”
“Just gen eds, trying to get them worked out while I figure out what I want to do besides being a researcher for the supernatural.” Derek’s lip quirked and he felt himself relax further into the couch as Stiles filled the silence with words.
-0-
It wasn’t until Derek looked out the floor to ceiling windows, that he realized the sun was going down. He got up and caught a glimpse of the clock on the microwave, “Stiles,” He said surprised, “We’ve been talking for almost five hours.”
Stiles squawked, “No way!” then, “Holy shit! That’s crazy.”
“Yeah,” Derek whispered. He hadn’t even noticed; talking to Stiles made the time pass quickly, and he found he enjoyed it rather immensely, “I’ll let you go. You should get some rest.”
Stiles was quiet for a moment before saying, “Okay. Well, I enjoyed this.”
Derek grinned, letting himself respond with, “Me too.”
the best soy latte that you ever had
Derek was walking into the small coffee shop on the corner of First and Kline, when he noticed the scent again. The cinnamon and evergreen twist that occupied his thoughts as it slowly faded into the background of his home, combining in a lovely combination with his own scent. Stiles was nearby.
He turned his head back and forth, ears shifted into his beta form so he could try to locate the younger man.
Derek found him at the counter, taking orders, “Welcome to Beacon and Bacon, what can I get for,” Stiles stopped the automatic welcome in favor of saying, “Oh, hey Derek,” with a bright grin.
Derek was taken aback at the radiance of Stiles’ smile. “Uh, what do you recommend?” Stiles laughed and leaned into the counter, “The soy latte, it’s the easiest thing and quite frankly, the only drink I’ve mastered.”
Derek nodded with a raised brow, sliding his card across the counter and pulling out a few bills to place in the tip jar, “I didn’t even know you worked here.”
Stiles got to work on the latte after handing him back his card, smiling at him over his shoulder, “I’m trying to save for college. I’m only going to Beacon Community, but still. I don’t want my dad to have to pay for the entire thing himself.”
“Two years and then you’ll transfer?” Derek wondered, feeling strangely empty at the thought of Beacon Hills without Stiles.
He nodded, a faint blush at the apples of his cheeks as he looked at the foam. He placed a lid on the cup and handed it over to Derek, “Me and the rest of the pack. Liam and Mason will have graduated and we can all go to college together. No one gets left behind.”
Derek took a sip and let the hot liquid burn his tongue instead of speaking again. There was no one behind him so he stood there and continued nursing his drink while Stiles cleaned behind the counter, “You could come, too.” Stiles flushed again, turning his back on Derek so he wouldn’t see. “If you wanted.”
“Uh,” Derek said dumbly.
Stiles flipped around and rushed out, “You don’t have to, but Beacon Hills isn’t home for you.” He paused, tightening the rag in his hand, “Not that you don’t have a home here. But I thought maybe rather than a place it could be a per-.” He stopped again, “Pack. It could be a pack. The pack.”
Derek nodded slightly, the paper cup starting to give at his grip on it, “I’ll think about it?”
Stiles’ grin looked forced, but he kept up conversation until Derek finished with his drink, waving him out when he tossed the cup, “Told you it was the best soy latte!”
Derek smiled weakly and walked to his car; he rubbed a hand over his face when he sat in the driver's seat before leaning his head on the steering wheel. Derek let out a groan and muttered to himself, “How can I tell him home isn’t the pack, but him ?”
and me?
Derek didn’t know when it happened but at some point between leaving, coming home to his house smelling like Stiles and home , and the invitation to move away with him, well the pack, he had fallen in love with Stiles. Maybe he had always loved Stiles, but now he was allowing himself to feel it. And that scared the shit out of him.
So much so, that Derek avoided Stiles for the next week. Only stopping when he ran into Lydia again at the grocery store to realize that maybe Stiles was the one avoiding him .
“Hale,” she said coolly, head tilted to the side.
“Lydia,” Derek nodded, leaning forward on the cart he had gotten at the front of the store that was only filled with a box of cereal and kale.
“If I knew you coming back was going to make things this bad, I would’ve stopped you.” She said, almost sadly, “Maybe I should’ve stopped you from leaving in the first place.”
“What,” Derek deadpanned. He never thought that Lydia even liked him, not enough for her to really care whether he was here or elsewhere. And what’s so bad about him being back?
Lydia looked at him pityingly, a small frown on her face; she had quite the ability to make someone so much taller than her feel incredibly small, “You poor thing. You don’t even realize.”
“What,” he repeats, this time with a bit more anger slipping through. He was tired of all these mind games everyone was playing. He just wanted someone to be straight with him so he could go home and sleep on the couch that smelt like home .
“Some of us,” she stressed the word ‘some,’ “Have gotten used to the fact that you’re back. And started opening up to you, like they wanted to before you left. And you don’t seem to care. You never seem to care,” Lydia said, with a touch of anger coloring her voice.
“Who are some of us ?” Derek replied, just as angry.
Lydia rolled her eyes at him and moved forward to flick him on his forehead, saying with a soft voice, “Think about it, dummy.” And then she walked off towards the front of the building to pay
-0-
Derek thought about it while he shopped. The only thing - person - that made sense was Stiles. But it also made no sense at all.
Stiles missed him when he left, sure, but he never acted like he was angry about him leaving. Which reminded him of Erica saying that some of the pack just couldn’t be angry that he left.
Still, he stood in shock in the dairy section as he thought about it. He ended up leaving his cart in the middle of the store and heading towards his car. When he got in he drove in silence to the Stilinski house, thinking that nothing in his life made sense anymore, not since he arrived back in Beacon Hills.
Derek knocked on the door, shoulders tense, “Stiles, I know you’re there. Your jeep is out front.” He stopped, sighed, then continued, “We need to talk.”
Stiles opened the door with a scowl, “No we don’t. It’s fine. Everything is a-okay. Groovy, totally good in the hood.”
Derek leveled him with a stare and pushed into the house, listening for Stiles to close the door before he turned back around and said, “Why did you clean my house.”
Stiles scoffed and crossed his arms, “We already talked about this,” He waved a hand in the air dismissively, “It was a distraction that turned into a habit so the house wouldn’t be in squalor if you got back.”
“When,” Derek corrected immediately, “And why really.” Derek thought that maybe, just maybe, there was more to it than habit. He hoped there was.
Stiles sighed and pushed past him to walk towards the kitchen. Derek followed.
He poured them each a mug of coffee and put in two sugars and a dash of cream, just like Derek liked. He took a sip of his own before saying, “I wanted to make sure you came back. I missed you,” Derek opened his mouth to argue that he was always going to come back before Stiles pushed on, “What do you want me to say Derek? That I cleaned your place because it made me feel close to you and that maybe if you let others take care of you, the way you do them, you wouldn’t have to run from your home?” Stiles set the mug down and looked at Derek in the eyes. “I get why you left. But that didn’t stop me from hoping you’d be sitting at the kitchen counter every time I walked through the loft doors.”
Derek felt his breath catch in his throat, “Why?”
“Your pack, big guy.” His heart blipped slightly, not a lie but not a full truth.
“That’s not all, though,” Derek knew. For the first time since he got back he knew his hope was placed in the right place.
“No. That’s not all,” Stiles admitted, but wouldn’t comment any further.
Derek clutched the mug in his hands and said, “Home.”
Stiles nodded, a sad smile on his face, “Yeah. You’re my home.”
Derek huffed, and set the cup down, “No, Stiles,” He ran a hand through his hair, “When I got back I noticed the place was clean, but I could tell that whoever did it knew not to use the strong smelling cleaners. Whoever did it, was there multiple times to ensure it was kept up. I smelt something so good and calming that it made the loft feel like home for the first time ever. I smelt you , Stiles. You’re my home.”
Derek took a small step towards a wary looking Stiles, “Not the pack. Not Beacon Hills. You.” He paused to lift a hand to cup the back of Stiles’ neck, “I left without a home and I came back to one that nearly knocked me on my ass.”
Stiles' breath hitched and Derek moved to swipe a tear that was running down his face, “This isn’t a funny joke, Derek.” Stiles said, pressing a hand to Derek’s chest.
“Not a joke.”
Stiles swallowed deeply and clutched at Derek’s shirt, “Why did you come back?”
“I went out looking for a home. I didn’t like what I found; nothing felt right. I missed the pack, and you.” Derek sighed, inhaling Stiles’ sweet cinnamon and evergreen scent in, “I didn’t have to leave, but I did. I was suffocating and needed to find myself. Turns out I didn’t have to leave to do that.”
Stiles looked up at Derek with furrowed brows, “Finding home was really just finding what I already had: someone who cared so deeply about me that they cleaned my loft for nearly two years in the hope that I would come back. I didn’t find myself out there, I found it here. I found it with you.”
Stiles’ bottom lip wobbled slightly, but he barely noticed because all he felt was Stiles gripping his shirt tighter and pulling his lips down to meet his.
It was brief, a blink and you miss it, kind of kiss, but Derek couldn’t help but be out of breath when Stiles pulled back.
“You’re my home, Stilinski.” Derek said, pressing his nose into the side of Stiles’ neck, grinning when Stiles replied softly, “And you’re mine.”