Archive of Our Own

It’s February of senior year and Lydia is bored. She’s sitting in what is probably the most excruciatingly painful English class in the entire history of the American education system. But that isn't the real problem. Lydia had already taken all of the AP classes BHHS offered, and had been accepted into MIT early decision so she didn't even have college to worry about. They hadn't had a single supernatural crisis since the year started, and while she was grateful for the lack of horrible death around her, she did kind of miss the excitement.

While the teacher drones on about the importance of proof reading (which, really?), Lydia has an epiphany. She realizes that she needs a project. Something that she can lose herself in and forget about this crippling boredom. Something amazing! Something inspiring! …And yet when she wracks her (considerably impressive) brain she cannot come up with a single idea.

The bell rings, breaking Lydia out of her not-brainstorming. She makes her way to lunch, determined to come up with something to do before the end of the day.

...Completely unaware that that very something was about to fall right into her lap.

Malia plops down next to Lydia at the lunch table and says without preamble, "Do you think Stiles is lonely?"

Lydia stares. "Um. What?"

"Do you think Stiles is lonely?" Malia repeats. "Like ok, we broke up almost a year ago and he hasn't dated anyone else."

"Are you saying you want to get back together with him?" Lydia asks, trying to figure out where the hell this conversation is going.

"No, of course not! I definitely think we're better off as friends," Malia says matter of factly, "but you and Kira and even Stiles have told me that it’s normal to start dating again!"

"Well it is," Lydia replies gently, "but not everyone wants to be dating. Maybe Stiles just isn't a relationship person."

Malia narrows her eyes. "Are you insulting Stiles? He's a great boyfriend!"

"Oh my god Malia, I'm not insult- wait, are you saying you want me to date him?!"

Malia shrugs. "He has had a thing for you since forever."

"No, no way,” Lydia says, laughing off the suggestion. “That's not a thing anymore. I love Stiles like a brother. Besides I don't think he feels that way about me anymore either, if anything I would say he's more into - oh."

"What?"

"Oh my god. I know who Stiles is into now."

"Good!" Malia says, smiling, "but don't tell me, I might get jealous."

"…But you just said you don't want to date him, you just told me to date him."

"I know, but Kira said that sometimes jealousy over past relationships isn't rational, and I just don't need that right now, I have math next period."

And with that, Malia gets up and leaves Lydia alone with her thoughts. Her very busy thoughts. Her very un-bored thoughts.

Lydia pulls her planner out of her designer book bag. Valentine's Day is exactly three days from now. Lydia smiles to herself. This is going to be a challenge, but in three days, Stiles Stilinski will be sitting down to a romantic dinner with Derek Hale.

Those boys aren’t going to know what hit them.

*****

Derek was...surprised, to say the least, when Lydia Martin showed up right in the middle of him cooking dinner, begging for his help. When she sat down on his couch and started taking about her relationship of all things, well, truthfully, he was completely blindsided.

"...I just really like him Derek, I've never felt this way about anyone before!" She looks down at her lap, twirling her phone in her hands.

He tries to be supportive.  "Lydia... maybe you should just talk to Jordan about this.  Or ask Scott or Kira for advice, I'm sure they're better at it than I am..."

"No, you're right," she says, looking up at him, "I just came to you because you’re friends with him and I thought you might have some...I don't know... insight?"

"Well," Derek begins, trying very, very hard to say the right thing, "I definitely think he cares about you. And really, anyone would be lucky to date you."

She jumps up from the couch and brushes off her skirt.  "You know what, you're right!  Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking.  Thanks Derek, that was really helpful!" And with that she pecks him on the cheek and heads out the door.

Once she’s gone, Derek shakes his head slightly, trying to figure out if what just happened was actually real. Eventually he makes his way back to the stove.

…Only to be interrupted minutes later by the creaking hinges of his door once again, this time accompanied by a familiar rapid heartbeat.

"Stiles what are you doing here?" Derek says without turning around. “And I told you that key was for emergency use only."

Stiles shrugs.  Or, Derek imagines that Stiles shrugs because he still hasn't turned around.

"Is Lydia here?"

Derek finally turns to face him. "No, she just left actually."

"Oh," Stiles says, shrugging again. "She texted me and told me to meet her here, she said it was important. Is she ok?"

Derek sighs, not really sure. "I think so? She wanted some advice about Jordan."

"Oh," Stiles says, surprised. "That's...odd. I mean, that she would ask you, right?"

"I have no idea what you mean." Derek deadpans.

"No, hey man, I just mean, you know, you’re not, like, my first choice when it comes to relationship advice."

Derek feigns offense. "Stiles, I am offended. I'll have you know I am a bastion of good advice in the face teenage hormones."

Stiles looks at him suspiciously.  "Did you just make a joke about your horrible relationship history?"

"No," Derek says, hiding a smile.

And just like that, the weird tension that arrived with Stiles completely dissipates.

Derek turns back to his chicken. "Are you staying for dinner?"

It’s a thing they do sometimes.  In the recent lull of supernatural activity, they have ended up spending more and more time together just doing normal things. Sometimes Stiles bothers Derek if Scott’s busy with Kira, and occasionally Derek ends up checking on Stiles when the Sheriff is working late at the station. Derek appreciates, and in a lot of ways, really counts on the comfortable familiarity they have with each other.   Well, except for all the weird tension that’s been between them lately. Tension that he doesn’t really want to examine too closely because he’s afraid of what it might mean for them.

"Yeah sure, do you need help?" Stiles asks, suddenly much closer than he was before. Derek looks around. He grabs some tomatoes and shoves them in Stiles’ general direction.

“Here, you can chop these.”

He wasn't really planning on serving tomatoes tonight but he needs to give Stiles something to do so that he isn’t just... standing there.

So they make dinner together.  And Derek tries not to stare at Stiles too much.  He's not sure if he succeeds.

After dinner, Stiles doesn't linger and Derek's fine with that.  Really.

*****

The next day at school Lydia is slightly put out that the first Phase of her Plan didn't yield better results.  She's just putting the finishing touches on Phase Two when Scott sits down next to her.

"I know you're up to something."

Lydia blanches. "Me? Scott I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

Scott just rolls his eyes.  "C'mon Lydia.  I'm the Alpha. You can't hide things from me."

She gives him her judgiest stare for pulling the Alpha Card.

Scott, of course, caves.  "Ok fine. As your friend I can tell that you're up to something. And I think it has something to do with Stiles, based on how much you stared at him all through physics.  And as your friend and his friend I just want to know what's going on." He gives her the puppy dog eyes.

"It's not a big deal, Scott," Lydia replies, helpless under that stare.  "I've just noticed that he has feelings for a certain someone and I'm trying to see if that certain someone reciprocates said feelings."

"Wait you're trying to get Derek and Stiles together?  I want in."

Well, this is certainly an interesting development.

"Wait how did you know?" Lydia asks, narrowing her eyes at him. "I only figured it out yesterday."

Scott shrugs, looking smug. "Stiles is my best friend. Besides, every time they're in a room together the sexual tension is so thick you could choke on it.  Er... not that I want to think about Stiles and Derek choking on things.  …Each other's things.  …Oh god."

Lydia saves him from himself. "Well, as charming as that particular mental picture is, we're not quite there yet.”

She fills Scott in on the less than stellar results of Phase One.

His feedback is...less constructive and more critical.

"That would never have worked! They’re alone together all the time.  It's not drastic enough."

"Yes, thank you Scott, I know," Lydia says through gritted teeth, "but I've upped the ante significantly for Phase Two.  Are you in?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," Scott says, "what do you need from me?"

"Well," Lydia begins conspiratorially, "how many birds does Deaton have at the clinic right now?"

*****

Stiles is in absolute disbelief.  He can't believe what he's hearing.  He can't believe what he's wearing. He can't believe Scott convinced him to do this.  He finds himself counting his fingers to make sure, absolutely 100% sure, that this is real life and he's not dreaming.  Unfortunately, every time he counts them, there are still only ten.

"Cupid's Carwash!" Finstock repeats for the umpteenth time, "is an essential fundraising opportunity for this team.  We have no funds.  And we need to raise some!"

"Coach," Stiles interrupts, trying to be the voice of reason, "I know we live in California, but it's still February. And it's cold. Are you sure we should be outside dressed... like this?" He gestures at the outfit.

"Listen to me Bilinski, when you've lost a testicle, then you can talk to me about the dangers of frostbite! It's a perfectly safe 45 degrees out there!  So pull up your little golden diapers and get out there and wash! Some! Cars!"

Stiles sighs and follows the other senior members of the team outside.  Honestly, he wishes it was just the golden diapers.  But no.  There are fluffy wings strapped to his back.  He's wearing gladiator sandals that come halfway up his calves.  And there's a flower crown.  Well, technically it’s a laurel wreath but it might as well be a flower crown for the crushing effect it's having on his dignity.  And of course, the pièce de résistance - the fucking golden diaper. Coach went on and on about how badly they needed money for the team so they had to do this, but honestly these stupid costumes are so elaborate they must have spent a small fortune just to buy them.  When Stiles asked coach where they were able to get ten intricate cupid costumes on such short notice, he just said that they were "donated," whatever that means.

Stiles sets up his station with Scott, who somehow manages to look adorable and charming in this stupid getup.  Stiles didn't even look in the mirror after he put his on.  He never wants to know what he looks like.

Of course, the first car that pulls over to them is a Beacon Hills police cruiser, driven by none other than his father, who promptly takes a photo on his phone, the evil traitor.

"For posterity kid!  Oh man I am so glad I'm here to see this," the Sheriff shouts out the window through his laughter.

"You're getting tofu for a month," Stiles grumbles as he wipes down the windshield.

It just isn't his day.  Once his father's car pulls away, it's replaced by a car that is literally covered in bird shit.  He can't even see the driver and has no idea how anyone is even managing to drive the car. He does know that it will likely take him hours to scrub off all that bird shit.

Then, to make things even better, the window rolls down (with much difficulty and chipping off of dried bird shit) and Derek Hale sticks his unfairly stubbled face out. His eyes widen almost comically huge as he takes in Stiles' outfit.  This could not possibly get any worse. If Stiles could pick anyone to NOT see him half naked in a Cupid costume, his first choice would definitely be Derek-my-body-is-the-literal-definition-of-perfection-Hale. 

Derek would probably look good in this stupid costume, Stiles thinks to himself. 

And then, before he can follow that particular train of thought too far into dangerous territory, he decides to take the road less traveled.  He focuses on the bird shit.

"Whoa dude!" Stiles says, "what the hell happened to your car?!"

"Birds." Derek grunts through gritted teeth.  It's been a long time since Derek resorted to monosyllabic grunting. And truthfully, Stiles can't really blame him.   If his car was covered in bird shit, he'd be pretty unhappy too.

"Right," Stiles agrees, “but uh, how?"

"I don't know," Derek replies, exasperated. "I wasn't even parked under a tree!"

Behind him, Scott coughs.

"Hey Stiles, I'm gonna, ugh, use the bathroom ok?  I'll be back in a few.  See you Derek!" Scott says, while retreating.  He is also a dirty traitor, leaving Stiles to clean the bird shit all by himself.  NOT ok.

So, Stiles starts to wash Derek's car.  He starts with the windows, which is maybe a mistake because now he can he see Derek's super angry face from every angle.  He looks like he's ready to kill something. He's glaring at the steering wheel like it personally insulted him.

"Hey man," he says, trying anything to diffuse the situation, "you can relax, you know, I'm not gonna scratch the paint job or anything!  I may look like a sad caricature of a flying love god, but I promise you I do actually know how to clean a car."

Derek looks surprised.  "No, it's not that.  I trust you.  I mean, to wash my car, I trust you to wash my car."

"Oh, awesome, then!  Just relax in there and let me relieve you of this horribly unfortunate and excessive amount of excrement."

Derek just goes back to glaring at the steering wheel. Stiles wishes Derek would just relax. And he feels like it would be better for everyone if Derek would smile more.  Stiles is a little bit in lo- in like, with Derek's smiles. Especially the ones when he thinks no one's looking.  Stiles is usually looking.  So he decides to give Derek a freebie in the interest of maybe coaxing one of those smiles out of him.

"Ok. You get one," Stiles announces benevolently.

Derek raises his eyebrows. At the steering wheel. Which he is still glaring at. "One what?"

"One joke at my expense.  You know, about my...appearance."

Derek drags his gaze from the steering wheel to look up at Stiles.  It looks like it's causing him actual physical pain.

"Hey c'mon I said you get to make a joke, you don't need to look at me like your eyes are burning.  I know I look ridiculous."

"No you look -" Derek coughs, "I mean, you look...  Ok, you look ridiculous," he says with a slight quirk of his lips.  Aaaand there it is!  Stiles does an internal victory dance.  And maybe swoons a little bit. But really only a little.

During the course of this conversation, Stiles finishes scraping the bird shit off most of the front of the car, so he gets to work on the top.  This involves pressing his entire naked torso and crotch up against the driver side window.  He had just gotten himself into a good position to really get a really solid scraping groove going, when a loud blaring noise causes him to jump bodily from the car and land, flailing, on his back.  Luckily the wings are soft.

"Shit sorry!" Derek says, wincing.  "I... slipped and hit the horn...are you ok?"

Ugh seriously?  So much for werewolf reflexes.

"No, no, that's fine, I'm fine, everything's fine," Stiles replies, as he picks himself up off the ground with as much dignity as one can muster while wearing a golden diaper and feather wings.

If possible Derek's expression is now even more pained than it was before.

"I, uh, I think you broke one of your wings there, Cupid."

And sure enough, when Stiles catches his reflection in the (now very shiny and poop-free) window of Derek's car, he sees that his one of his wings is, indeed, falling off. To complete this look of absolute disarray, his laurel wreath is lopsided and his stupid golden diaper is riding precariously low on his hips.

Stiles sighs, grits his teeth, pulls up his diaper and gets back to work.

*****

Lydia was amused by, but not all together pleased with the results from Cupid's Carwash. Stiles and Derek didn't seem to suspect her or Scott and they did actually end up raising a ton of money for the lacrosse team.  So much, in fact, that Finstock was talking about making it an annual event. But despite all of that, Derek watching Stiles' almost naked body contort into various positions on top of his stupid car for two hours did NOT prompt him into jumping Stiles' bones.  No bones were jumped.  Lydia imagined that if he still had the Camaro it would have been far sexier, but there's only so much she can do.

But now V-day is here and Lydia is hard at work putting the finishing touches on Phase Three (The Final Phase). This one requires a bit more work and has the most riding on it because it has to succeed.  Not that she had any doubts that it will.  The first two were just the appetizers and this is the main course, so to speak.

She checks the time and picks up her phone to call Scott (whose name had been changed to Partner in Crime in her contact list because she was absolutely having as much fun with this as she possibly could.)

"Hey Lydia"

"Well," she asks, "did you hold up your end of the bargain?"

Scott snorts. "Seriously Lydia, you sound like an evil mastermind when you talk like that."

"Well, if the shoe fits...," she says.  "But seriously, everything needs to be perfect tonight so please tell me you took care of everything!"

"Yeah I did, I just...I really don't like lying to him.  I still think he can tell."

"Scott, we've been over this, that's why you're texting him!  He can't hear your heartbeat over a text message."

"I know, I know, I still don't like it.  But he agreed. He'll be at the restaurant at 8."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Exactly what we talked about, do you want a screen cap of the conversation?"

Lydia snorts. "No, that won't be necessary. What did he say, did he seem suspicious?"

"I don't know Lydia, suspicion, like a heartbeat, is hard to read over text message!"

"Valid," she concedes. “You made sure to tell him to dress nicely right? They won’t let him in in jeans.”

“Yes, multiple times. I still don’t understand how you were able to get a Valentine’s Day reservation at the best restaurant in town on such short notice! I tried weeks ago and they were already booked.”

She smiles, even though he can’t see it. “It’s all about who you know, Scott.”

Just then, the doorbell rings, cutting their conversation short.

"Crap that's Stiles, I have to go!"

And with that she ends the call, puts on her most devious lipstick (no seriously the shade is called "Devious"), blows a kiss to herself in the mirror, and goes downstairs to meet Stiles at the door.

*****

Stiles thinks of himself as a good friend.  He wants to be a good friend.  So, when Lydia called him four hours ago, begging for a replacement date on Valentine's Day, he wasn't going to say no.  He has long moved past his crush on her, it’s grown into a mature and loving friendship and he feels like if he’s willing to die for her, he can handle a "romantic" dinner with her.

He’s wearing the nicest outfit he owns, which is a dark blue checkered button down, slacks, and dress shoes.  He’s still probably the most under dressed person at this ridiculously overpriced restaurant, but he tried his best for Lydia.  Besides, it isn't like he has anyone to impress. 

He sighs as they’re led to a secluded table in the back.

"Thank you so much for doing this, Stiles, I really appreciate it!"

"Yeah no problem.  I mean, nothing like being surrounded by loving couples to be reminded that you're alone right?" He tries to joke.

"Hmm what does that mean," Lydia says, far too intuitively for Stiles' comfort, “is there someone else you'd rather be here with?"

Stiles does not blush. He does not.

"No, don't worry about," Stiles says, as dismissively as possible. "It's nothing. I'm just happy that you don't have to be alone.  I can't believe Parrish cancelled on you!  You know, if this was two years ago, I’d spend the entire night trying to convince you that he was wasting your time and that you truly belonged with me."

Lydia laughs. "Two years ago I wouldn't have invited you for that very reason." Lydia reaches into her purse and then suddenly says, "Oh crap, Stiles I'm so sorry, I think I left my phone in your Jeep. Do you mind if I just run and grab it?"

"Oh, do you want me to go?"

"No, no, it's fine I got it," she says, "can I just have the keys for a minute?"

"Sure," Stiles says, handing them over.

"Thanks, I'll be right back!" She says, heading away from the table.

Stiles picks at the fancy assortment of meats and cheeses on the table.  He doesn’t want to start without Lydia but he’s hungry.

Also, what is taking her so long?  It has to have been at least ten minutes.

He decides not to worry about it. She’s probably either fixing her makeup or plotting world domination; with Lydia it can be hard to tell. 

He shrugs to himself and piles some cured ham on a fancy piece of toast.

He takes a bite and has to struggle not to choke on it because at that exact moment, the host brings none other than Derek Hale over to their table.  Derek Hale in a tuxedo. Derek Hale.  In a tuxedo. In the same restaurant where he is having a fake date with Lydia.  …Did he mention the tuxedo?

Okay where the hell is Lydia?!

"Stiles?" Derek says, eyes widening. "Um, I think there's been a mistake, I was supposed to meet -" Derek starts to say but is promptly cut off by the host.

"No mistake sir,” the smarmy bastard says. “Please sit down and all will be revealed.  Now, please excuse me, we're very busy tonight." And with that complete lack of an explanation, he’s gone.

Derek sits and glares at Stiles. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know! I'm here with Lydia. Or I was, until she left to go to the car... about fifteen minutes ago. ...She's not coming back," he realizes suddenly.

"Your car isn’t in the lot, I would have seen it," Derek supplies unhelpfully.

"She told me Parrish had to cancel at the last minute and she didn't want to give up the reservation.  It was a friend thing," Stiles says, because it's important for Derek to know that last bit. "Wait, why are you here?"

Derek sighs.  "Scott told me that Kira cancelled on him at the last minute and he didn't want to lose his reservation. He said we could get in some 'bro bonding time.' I was supposed to meet him here."

Stiles resists the urge to snort because he knows for a fact that Scott and Kira are currently having an adorable indoor picnic at Kira's house while her parents are out of town. "And you couldn't tell he was lying? Isn't that one of your superpowers?"

"First of all, it's not a 'superpower,' it's a carefully honed skill, and second of all it was via text, so no, I could not."

"I think we've been set up," Stiles says, stating the obvious.

Before Derek can even respond, their server shows up with two steaks and a bottle of champagne.

"Good evening, sirs. I trust that you are comfortable.  Please enjoy dinner and drinks, compliments of Ms. Martin," she says as she puts the steaks down in front of each of them. Another server pours the champagne, while a third places a single red rose wrapped in parchment paper in the center of the table.

Stiles is slightly dumbfounded. When he shakes himself out of it, he tries to ask her, "But, wait, what -"

"I'm sorry, sir," she interrupts, "I've been instructed not to say anything more.  Please see the rose for any further explanation." And then she's gone. 

Leaving him alone.  With Derek. And their romantic Valentine's Day dinner.

"Well, that was rude, what if I wanted to ask for steak sauce?" Stiles says, trying to break the horrible, horrible tension that descended onto their table with the steaks.  It doesn't work.  Derek doesn't laugh.  No one is laughing.

Derek goes for the rose instead, unraveling the scroll. He makes a face.

Stiles waits for him to share with the class.  He doesn't.

"Well?"

Derek, apparently at a complete loss for words, simply thrusts the paper at Stiles. 

It says:

"Apologies for the deception, but it was necessary. Please enjoy this dinner, it's already paid for.

We just felt that you two deserved a Valentine's Day date with the person you really wanted to be with tonight.  Please feel free to use this opportunity to confess your feelings for one another."

And then it was signed:

"Love,
Lydia, Scott, Kira, Malia, Liam, Mason, Danny, Jordan, Coach Finstock, Melissa, and Dad"

Stiles puts the letter down, his heart beating unnaturally fast.  This is too much to handle.

"All of them were in on this?" And his dad?  "And my dad?!"

"That explains the car wash," Derek finally says. "When I needed to get my car cleaned, I went over to Pete's first, but your father was there and he told me to go to the high school instead."

Stiles wishes that he could think better of his father, but that seems exactly like the sneaky kind of shit he would do.  Especially if Lydia asked him to do it.

"I guess that also explains why Scott was so excited about the costumes," Stiles grumbles, and then realizes, "wait, Lydia thought that seeing me half naked in a Cupid costume would somehow make you fall madly in love with me?!"

Derek just shrugs. "It wasn't... entirely unattractive."

Stiles gapes at him.  "So wait.  Are you saying you find me attractive?"

Derek looks away.  "Sure Stiles, you have to know you're attractive. It's not a big deal.  Can we just eat these steaks before they get cold?"

Okay fine.  So Derek is annoyed.  Stiles can't blame him.  And he isn't about to confess any feelings for Stiles.  Well, Stiles can't blame him for that either, he supposes. It fucking sucks, because for a second there he thought maybe his feelings were reciprocated. But they're not.  And that's fine. 

They're friends.  They're good friends. Stiles likes the relationship they have now.  It's fine.

"Yeah, yeah we can," Stiles says, trying to keep any hints of disappointment out of his voice.

He cuts into the steak.  Takes a bite.  It's good.  It's really good.

"…The steak is good," Derek says.

And suddenly Stiles can't take it anymore.

"You know what," Stiles says, "it is good!  And we should just enjoy it, okay? So our ridiculous friends went to great lengths to set up this ridiculous dinner and since we're not about to confess our undying love for each other we should just enjoy it.  We eat dinner together all the time.  Admittedly there's usually less heart shaped confetti involved but still.  Please stop being so awkward, dude.  It's really not that big of a deal.  Just two bros on a bro date. Like you were going to have with Scott."

"Scott.  Right." Derek takes a deep breath and seems to be visibly pulling himself together. "You're right, this doesn't need to be awkward. The food is good, the champagne is good, and the company is good," he says, smiling.

This seems to be Derek's version of an olive branch.  Stiles takes it.

Stiles lifts up his champagne glass.  "To good friends!"

"To good friends," Derek agrees, clinking their glasses together.

But as Stiles brings his glass to his lips to drink, it's ripped from his grasp.  "Hey-"

"I'm not letting you drink that, Stiles," Derek says smugly.  "You're 18."

"Yeah 18 and legal!" Stiles says raising his eyebrows suggestively.

Derek just glares.

"What, too soon? ...For the joke I mean, not for –“ Stiles flounders. “You know what, never mind. Keep the champagne," Stiles says, blushing.

"Good choice," Derek says, shooting a feral grin his way.

Stiles laughs and they finish off the rest of the steaks. And when the chocolate covered strawberries come, Stiles insists on feeding one to Derek and taking a picture, which he promptly sends to Lydia with a "you tried" gold star.

They're joking about it and its fine.  This is something they can joke about.

*****

Derek ends up having a really great time. It's actually the perfect date. Except of course for the small fact that it wasn't really a date and Stiles has no interest in dating him.  So. There's that.

Derek hopes that telling himself it's not awkward will somehow make it that way.

He has to drive Stiles home after their "date," because Lydia took the Jeep and isn't that just the icing on the proverbial shit cake? 

Maybe he'll walk Stiles to the door to complete the picture of things being almost perfect.

They pull up to the house. 

"Sooo, thanks for the date," Stiles says, laughing a little awkwardly.

"Anytime," Derek says, trying to keep things light.

Suddenly serious, Stiles says, "I'm sorry you missed out on bonding with Scott, but I really did have a great time."

Derek is unable to hold back a smile. "Me too, Stiles.  Have a good night."

Stiles goes to open the car door.  He stops.

"Hey," Stiles says, turning around, "this has been driving me crazy all night. If you were just coming out for werewolf bro time with Scott, why did you wear a freaking tuxedo?"

Derek shrugs.  "Oh, well, Scott really stressed that it was a nice restaurant and that I needed to dress up.  He said it like seven times. I thought it would be funny to overdress. …So I rented one."

Stiles stares at him for a minute and then bursts out laughing.  "Wait, you rented a tux just because you thought it would be funny?"

Derek nods.  "Pretty much, yeah."

Stiles stops laughing.  "I love you."

And just like that, all of the air that had previously been in Derek's lungs is suddenly no longer available.

"You.  You what?" He manages to choke out.

"I love you," Stiles barrels on, eyes wide.  "I'm so sorry, I know you don't feel the same, and it's stupid, and we're friends, good friends, I think, and I don't want to lose that or mess it up but this whole night has been so close to real, but I know it's not real, but honestly not telling you has been slowly driving me insane so maybe it's just better to get it all out there." He takes a deep breath.

It's everything Derek wants to hear so he can't believe it's true but at the same time he can hear Stiles’ heartbeat and it's going a mile a minute but he's not lying.

Derek looks at Stiles.

"Say it again," he asks.  "Please."

Stiles stares directly into Derek's eyes. They're much closer than they were a minute ago.

"I love you." No stutter.

Derek takes Stiles' hand and places it on the pulse point in his neck.

Stiles wrinkles his forehead in confusion, "Wha-"

"We're even now." Derek says. "Can you feel my heartbeat?"

Stiles nods, looking half entranced, half terrified.  Derek never wants to see him look scared again, so he continues.

"I love you too."

They sit like that for a full minute, just staring into each other's eyes, with Stiles’ palm still flat on Derek's neck.

Derek doesn't know who moves first, or if there's some kind of gravitational force pulling them together, but once he feels Stiles' lips on his own, he just opens up. His mouth, his heart, and probably his soul are all laid out on the table for this wonderful, beautiful boy to keep for as long as he will have them.

Stiles slides his hand up into Derek's hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Derek maybe moans a little.  He never wants to stop kissing Stiles.

When they do eventually break apart, Stiles still looks a little doubtful.

"I…this is... unexpected," Stiles says. "Not that I'm not thrilled! But I kind of got the impression that you didn't feel this way about me."

"I...tried to give you that impression.  I didn't think you had feelings for me and I was afraid that telling you how I felt would compromise the dynamic of our friendship.  I like our friendship."

"And now?" Stiles asks, challenging him.  "Are you still afraid?"

"Yes," Derek says, honestly.  "But I don't want to lie to you anymore either.  And I want to try this," he gestures between the two of them, "thing if you do.  Because I really am in love with you."

Stiles grins at him like he can't help it. Derek really hopes he can't help it.

"I really am in love with you too.  And I am in love with hearing you say that you're in love with me.  We are so doing this thing!"

Derek leans in to kiss him again, but then stops himself.

"Actually, I just have one condition."

Stiles looks concerned. "What is it?"

"We don't give Lydia any of the credit," Derek says, a sly grin creeping across his face.

"Oh she'll hate that!" Stiles says gleefully.

Derek just nods. "Oh I know."

"Have I mentioned that I love you?"

Derek just grins and pulls him in for another kiss.