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The first time it happens, Derek almost doesn't catch it. Almost. He's so distracted by the way Stiles is currently curled up against him, breathing into his neck, to catch the three words that just escaped Stiles' mouth.
He guesses he can't really blame himself for not really catching up until seconds after it happened. Stiles is breathtaking, sometimes all Derek can do is stare at him and wonder how the hell he got so lucky.
They're currently laid on the couch eating ice cream and watching re-runs of Stiles' favorite shows. Their limbs are tangled together and as Derek stares down at them, he wonders how two people could fit together so perfectly the way they do. Stiles' face in on Derek's neck, breathing in his scent and ocassionally planting soft kisses to the spots he knows drive Derek crazy. Derek's arms are draped around the younger boy, drawing small circles on his arm soothingly. Their legs are intertwined, making them connected hip to hip, chest to chest. The show has long been forgotten. They're enjoying each other's presence.
Finding out Stiles was ticklish was a surprise for Derek, but now that he thinks back on it, he shouldn't have been surprised at all. His hands are now down to Stiles' sides and the younger boy looks up from his head on Derek's neck to send him a halfhearted glare.
"Don't you dare," he threatens weakly, though Derek can see he is clearly fighting back a smile. (Derek is, too).
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Derek deadpans, and his hands are slipping down Stiles' shirt before he can stop them. His fingers are dancing over Stiles' skin, and he can just see the moment Stiles loses it.
"Derek- No, no no.. Don't-," Stiles begins, but whatever he was going to say gets cut off by a small yell and a loud laugh following afterwards. Stiles tries to push Derek's hands away, but hello, werewolf, so he really can't do anything about it other than laugh and throw his head back against Derek's shoulder.
That sight has to be one of the most beautiful things Derek has ever seen. It's moments like these, with Stiles, that Derek wants to treasure forever. Keep them locked up in a small piece of his mind where he can think about them when he's in the middle of a fight, or when he's in danger. It's when he thinks about these moments that he feel the strongest.
"Der!" Stiles whines, when he can finally stop laughing enough to say a word, "I can't- anymore." Stiles is panting and smiling up at Derek and all Derek could think of his how he wants him to be happy all the time.
Derek's fingers eventually stop tickling Stiles, but he leaves his hand on his side, cupping the warm skin with his hand. Stiles leans even closer (if that is possible) to Derek and nuzzled into his neck again. He could feel Stiles smiling against his skin, the small puffs of hot air hitting his throat and making Derek feel warm all over.
"Hey," Stiles says, after some seconds of silence. Derek makes a noice, sort of like a grunt, to let him know he's listening, but the truth is, he sort of isn't. His thoughts are on Stiles and his hair and his eyes and his nose and his mouth (God, his mouth), and his hands, which one is currently clutching Derek's shirt. As if he feared Derek would go anywhere. (He would never go anywhere else.)
Stiles lets out a small snort, then shakes his head the best he can under Derek's chin. "It's just.." he trails off and presses his lips into a thin line, as if thinking about what he's about to say. Derek's hand travels up to meet Stiles' on his chest and he grabs it, holds on to it and waits for him to continue.
"I love you."
Derek doesn't register the words at first. They're something so foreign, something he never thought he was capable of having. But then there comes Stiles, and well, he always proved him wrong. Derek stares at Stiles as if he had just grown a second head, and Stiles stares back.
Stiles sucks in a breath and is suddenly untangling himself from Derek, cursing under his breath and apologizing over and over, sitting up next to Derek. Derek's mind is spinning, and he doesn't know what's going on. The warmth next to him is suddenly gone and that's when he reacts.
"Oh- fuck, I didn't- Is it too much? Am I moving too fast?" Stiles rambles, then runs a hand through his hair, making it even more messy than it already was. "I'm sorry. Shit- I didn't mean- I did, but-" then he stands up and lets a frustrated groan.
Derek sits up at this, eyes wider than they were before. "Stiles," he says, and it's barely a murmur, but Stiles completely tenses up and freezes. He shuts his eyes tightly and avoids Derek's all together. Derek reaches for him, his fingers circling around his wrist and he tugs.
Stiles tries to free from his hold, but he knows it's impossible. He's, once again, sitting next to Derek, who's staring at him with a look so earnest Stiles wants to look away. He doesn't, though. He can't.
"You love me," is what Derek a moment after. They're still staring at each other and Stiles would laugh if he wasn't feeling pathetic at the moment because, yes, of course he loves Derek. "That's what I said, Derek," Stiles replies, sending him a glare.
Derek smiles, just barely, and pulls Stiles even closer. "You love me," he repeats, and Stiles' glare is gone. His face twists into one of confusion as Derek leans in.
"Derek?" he asks, unsure. Derek shakes his head a little and his eyes are fluttering close and Stiles feels like he's going to explode if Derek doesn't tell him what the hell he's doing.
All of his thoughts are interrupted the second Derek's lips are on his. It's soft, smooth. Derek isn't pushing and slowly, starts moving his lips against Stiles'. Stiles completely melts against him, eyes falling shut just seconds after Derek's. He feels as if his skin was tingling as their lips move in sync.
Derek's hand lets go of Stiles' wrist and reaches up to cup his face sweetly, a gently and tender gesture. Stiles leans against the touch and presses himself against Derek, deepening the kiss as much as he could. He needs Derek to understand, to feel how much Stiles loves him.
Derek is the one who leans back after what feels like an eternity so they could both breathe. He rests his forehead against Stiles' and notices that his eyes are still closed. Derek waits, patiently, for those doe eyes to meet his. Those eyes in which he got lost the first time he laid themselves on him. Stiles opens them and Derek feels like the breath has been knocked out of him.
"Derek.. what..?" Stiles murmurs, a little breathless. He's licking his swollen lips and Derek is following his tongue, eyes down on Stiles' lips. All he wants to do is lean forward and kiss him breathless again, just to hear Stiles say his name like that again.
"I love you, too," Derek says quickly, interrupting Stiles on what he was about to say. His mouth falls shut and he's staring at Derek as if he's waiting for him to say he's kidding, for this to be a prank and that Derek's just fucking with him. But all he gets is Derek's clear sincerity in his eyes and Stiles feels like he can't breathe.
Stiles throws his arms around Derek and pulls him in for a tight hug, laughing a little in disbelief. Derek returns the hug, tilting his head to press kisses to Stiles' temple. "I love you," he repeats, this time more confident than the first time.
"Love you, too," Stiles replies, his hold on Derek tightening. He never wants to let go, he wants to hold onto this for as long as he can. He rests his forehead on Derek's shoulder and smiles.
(And if a few tears slipped down Stiles' cheeks, well, nobody has to know).