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“Yea, he was great. You know, I’ve always thought Stiles was the one who got away.” Derek says to the little group of girls and guys he’s accumulated. They all sigh, looking love sick and heartbroken over Derek’s story. Stiles can feel the frustration bubbling in his stomach, this had been going on for way to long and it’s going to stop. Right now. Stiles crosses the room and stands behind Derek’s shoulder.
“Derek?” Derek looks up, not looking startled, he probably heard Stiles coming from all the way across the room.
“Hey Stiles, what’s up?” Derek’s smile is huge and dopey as he looks up at him. Stiles heart doesn’t flutter in his chest, it doesn’t, because Derek is a lying liar who lies. Stiles doesn’t know why, maybe Derek gets some twisted glee out of making people glare at Stiles like he’s a terrible person for breaking Derek Hale’s goddamned black heart. He’s not by the way, Stiles has never had the chance to break Derek’s heart, its Derek’s big fat fictional heart break that’s making these people, some completely strangers, glare at Stiles.
“Can I have a word with you? Alone?” He looks around at the group, glaring back at them, it makes some of them look away, but some of the more invested ones just glare back harder. Derek flashes his little group of fans a small smile and it looks so fucking pathetic and self-depreciating. Stiles is going to smack him the first chance he gets.
“I’ll be right back,” Derek gets up and tucks his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped inwards a bit. If Stiles didn’t know that it was a complete act then he’d probably feel bad, Derek actually looks sad. Well, sad might actually be an understatement, Derek looks devastated. They round the corner and luckily the hallway is empty. Stiles grabs Derek’s arm and pulls him to a stop. Derek’s hand comes free of his pocket and for a split second he actually looks surprised before the mask comes down and Stiles is staring at Derek’s Hales patented bitch face.
“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek asks like he doesn’t actually know exactly what he's doing to Stiles. Well, not to Stiles but to Stiles's reputation.
“What are you doing?” Stiles hates how indignant he sounds right now, he’s not supposed to feel like this. He’s actually hurt. Stiles is not the bad guy Derek is making him out to be. If given the chance Stile would… Not that it matters!
“Making friends, connecting with people and werewolves. Isn’t that the point of us being here?” Derek raises his eyebrows so high that they nearly disappear into his hairline.
“That’s not what I meant Derek!” Stiles waves his hand, unable to stand still now that Derek is in front of him. “What are you saying to those people out there? You’re supposed to be making friends, not, not calling me… I’m not the one who got away, Derek!” Stiles huffs, “It’s not fair.”
“Stiles, it’s not like that.” Derek looks concerned now, his hand comes up to touch Stiles’s shoulder.
“Then what is it like Derek? Because those people were all glaring at me like I’d stolen your heart and stomped all over it.” Derek’s hand drops from Stiles’s shoulder and he runs it through his hair.
“I’m sorry, I was just telling them about the pack." Stiles blinks, a bit surprised. Stiles has heard Derek apologise maybe five times in the whole time he’d know him. It wasn’t something Derek did very often, but he always meant it when he did.
"Some of them are from the pack Laura and I used to run with in New York, they wanted to know what I’d been doing since I’d left. The just got the wrong idea, I’m sorry.”Stiles sighed, Derek wasn’t looking at him now, starting at the ground like it had the answers to the universe.
“It’s ok, just- Stop making them you think you like me. ‘Cause you know, you’re the one that turned me down. Not the other way round.” Stiles shuffles his feet, he was supposed to be over Derek by now. Sure, Stiles had been terrified of Derek in the beginning and he wasn’t sure exactly when he’s feelings had changed, but he’d been in love with Derek since he was at least eighteen. Stiles remembers his eighteenth birthday vividly. They’d all been drinking in Derek’s loft, under Derek’s close supervision. Lydia (with Derek’s help surprisingly) had even come up with a concoction that would get the werewolves drunk. He’d had a bit to drink, not too much, because it was honestly too much fun to watch Scott and Kira dancing around the loft. Stiles had cornered Derek in the kitchen when he’d gone to get himself another drink. Derek had been grinning and laughing quietly and Stiles had thrown caution to the wind. He’d pressed himself against Derek, they were the perfect height for each other, Stiles just had to lean in and they’d been kissing. Derek had tasted like scotch and coke, sweet and warm. It was even better when Derek’s hands had come up to rest on Stiles’s hips, fingertips grazing just under Stiles’s shirt. Stiles had been sure in that moment that Derek liked him too, but then Derek had pulled away. He’d pushed Stiles away looking pained.
“We can’t do this Stiles, I don’t want to.” Then he’d stepped away and Stiles hadn’t seen him for the rest of the night. They’d never talked about it after, both silently agreeing that there was nothing to talk about.
“What?” Derek’s head jerked up, “When?”
“When what?” Stiles shot back, because there was no way Derek could have forgotten Stiles being all up in his face.
“When did I reject you Stiles?” Derek’s eyes were wide, his lips parted and Stiles couldn’t look away.
“My eighteenth birthday, you, me, the kitchen. I kissed you and you told me that you didn’t want me. I thought that was a pretty memorable moment, but it must not have been if you can’t remember.” Stiles crosses his arms and hunches in on himself, he can’t believe that Derek doesn’t remember, though as humiliating as it was sometimes Stiles wishes he could forget it to.
“Stiles, shit, I didn’t mean it like that.” Stiles closes his eyes, his hearts beating too fast and he thinks if he looks at Derek now he might actually have a panic attack. “You were drunk, I wasn’t going to take advantage of you. I figured we could talk about it after, but then you never said anything.” Stiles looks up and Derek’s cheeks are flushed. It’s fucking adorable.
“I hate you.” Stiles mutters under his breath.
“I’m sorry,” And Derek now looks devastated all over again, Stiles is going to kick himself, hard, maybe even repeatedly.
“You’re an idiot,” Stiles huffs, “Wait, I’m an idiot.” Stiles grabs the front of Derek’s first and yanks him forward. They’re lips smash together, slightly off center. Derek grabs Stiles’s hips and shoves Stiles around so his back is against the wall. This is so much better than the first time, and that’s not because Derek decided to manhandle him. The fact the Derek is kissing him back, the manhandling certainly helps though. Stiles shudders and fists his hands in Derek’s hair, tilting Derek’s head so that they fit together perfectly. Stiles lets out a soft moan and Derek shudders in response. Stiles has to yank himself away just so he can breathe.
“I wasn’t that drunk, Derek. I thought you rejected me.” Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek’s cheek, then down his chin and down to nip at Derek’s neck. Derek huffs and his hands slid over Stiles’s ass.
“I’m sorry.” Derek says again, squeezing Stiles’s ass until Stiles moans and buries his face in Derek’s neck.
“I’ll forgive you,” Stiles looks up at Derek’s flushed face and smirks wickedly. “If you take me back to the hotel right now and fuck my brains out.” Derek snorts, leans down and breathes across Stiles throat, scenting him so every werewolf in the room will know how much Stiles is loved.
“I can do that,” Derek growls and the rumble of it vibrates through Stiles, he feels like he’s burning up and like he could come right here and now without being touched.
When they walk out Stiles doesn’t even care that he’s sporting an uncomfortable boner, or that he smells of arousal and Derek. It doesn’t matter because Derek has his arm thrown over Stiles’s shoulders and when they pass Derek’s group of fans Derek winks at them and smirks. Stiles laughs at their shocked faces and blushes at how smug Derek is. Ok, Stiles is definitely smug to, but he just landed the hottest guy in the room. Can you really blame him?