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*
They've been best friends since forever.
Derek can't even really, properly remember since when. That's how long it's been. He has vague memories of a bright grin and feeling out of his depth, but then after that, all he can remember is Stiles.
He knows that people’s earliest memories are supposed to be of birthday cakes and adult smiles, iconic places they’ve been and and warm memories of first experiences, but for him — Stiles, grinning wide, his hand held out, is all Derek's ever known.
*
Stiles has just left after dinner, and Derek is cleaning the dishes, whistling softly to himself, when his mother comes and sits on one of the stools behind the kitchen counter.
"That boy really likes you."
Derek turns. "What, Stiles?" He frowns, bewildered. They're inseparable. Everybody knows that.
"Mm." She says, pausing.
"He may even love you." Comes out of nowhere.
Derek turns to her quickly and scoffs, shaking his head.
"Derek." She calls.
Derek stops.
"He's in love with you."
Derek can control his expression, but he can't control his reaction. Happiness ferments the air embarrassingly.
He goes back to the dishes. "We're just friends." He says cheerfully.
"Derek."
Derek ignores her. This can't be happening. She sits and waits.
"We're just friends." He whispers. "Please."
"No, Derek." Talia says.
"Please." He tries again.
"No." She says forcefully. He flinches, back facing her.
"I want you to tell him you can't see him anymore. That you don't want to."
Derek's breath hitches, chest constricting.
Talia comes over. "You know what the Argent's would do. Try to understand. He's a human." She places a hand on his shoulder.
Derek storms up to his room.
*
The next day, Stiles comes around on his bike to go to school. Laura waits for him in her car, watching as he makes his way over.
"Hi, Stiles." He whispers, head lowered.
"Hey! You ready?"
"I can't." His throat constricts. "I can't ride with you anymore." Derek whispers. He can feel his mothers eyes on him.
"What? I can't hear you. Hey, what's wrong?"
Stiles brings a hand up to touch him, but Derek pulls away. Stiles frowns.
"I can't ride with you anymore. Laura's dropping me off."
Stiles stares, until he snorts. "If you think I'm believing that for one second."
Derek levels his gaze to him. "I don't want to ride with you to school anymore."
Stiles grinds his teeth. "I'll talk to you later Derek." And cycles away.
*
And Stiles does. Insistently. It's so difficult not to collapse all throughout the day. And night. And day. And night. It feels like he's being torn apart.
Stiles throws pebbles up to his window. He can feel Stiles' warmth outside, smell his scent. Derek curls deeper into his covers. He's been told he needs to ignore it.
"Derek? I know you're awake." Stiles whispers up to him. "You never close your curtains. What's wrong? Just tell me what's wrong?"
Derek sniffles silently. He hears the front door opening downstairs.
"Okay, Stiles, you need to leave." His father says. "I've called your dad, he's on his way."
"No!" Stiles shouts. "I'm not leaving until I talk to Derek."
Derek is forced to come down.
"I don't want to be your friend anymore." He says dejectedly, standing in his sleep clothes.
"Okay, this is child abuse. He's being made to say that. Laura, I thought you were better than that." Stiles says even as his dad drags him into the car.
"It's okay, Derek! I won't give up! Not ever!" Stiles calls, both hands cupped around his mouth.
Derek shoves his way back upstairs, even as his sisters and parents try to comfort him.
*
It goes on for another week, until his mother confronts him.
"You need to do something, sweetheart." She says.
He glowers into his cereal.
"Go on a date, maybe." She says hesitantly.
"Fuck off." He says. He startles himself, and his family. He's never swore. "Fuck off!" He says again.
His mother stands speechless, before flashing her eyes to him and growling. Derek submits easily, even if all the bones in his body don’t want to.
"I won't tolerate that attitude, Derek. Now you'll take a girl out and stop wallowing. You're being unreasonable. This is for your own good, and for Stiles'. He’ll get over this and you can be friends again. But until then this is for the best."
He growls and slams the door on his way out.
*
Erica agrees to do him the favour. He waits for her at the shop, and he knows Stiles is coming.
Stiles dances into the room. Normally Derek would laugh, join in, and they'd be breathless happy by then end, but he keeps his expression closed off and stoic. Isaac actually does laugh, behind the till packing up for the day.
Stiles mimes along to the song playing, dances around Derek, trying to make him crack as smile. Derek is tense, shoulders hunched and arms crossed.
"Don't worry, he's just annoyed because he's being stood up." Isaac chuckles.
Stiles stops. "Stood up? But I'm here!" He laughs, holding arms out.
Just then, Erica knocks on the shop window, dressed to the nines.
Derek makes his way over.
"Derek?" He hears Stiles' small voice. He's leaning on the wall for support, pointing to Erica then Derek.
Isaac grimaces. "I'll just let her in."
Derek takes Stiles into the storeroom.
"Wha." He laughs nervously. "What's happening?"
"I have a date tonight."
Stiles clears his throat. Misery radiates from him. "Why?"
Derek sighs from his nostrils, eyes closed.
"Because." Is all he can manage.
"Because! Because what? She's using you!" He tries desperately, latching to anything. "She's using you for your looks — you've never liked Erica like that you — you told me — Why are you doing this?" He grasps Derek's forearms. "I know you don't really want to do this, Derek. Just tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing wrong." Derek states, cruelly shakes from Stiles' hold. It cuts him to the core. "I'm going on a date. That's it."
"That's it?" Stiles says the words as though they've been punched from him.
"Yes. That's it." Derek says.
"Oh yeah? Well you do that Derek! You go do that! And when you come back, I won't be here, ever think of that? I'm not going to be here and I won't bother you again so you've succeeded, you've excelled, in pushing me away, goodbye."
He storms away. He bumps into Erica as he's leaving. "Sorry." Stiles mutters.
"No, my fault." She says, stepping back. Stiles nods and leaves. Derek can feel him projecting his agony all the way down the street.
"Ready?" She asks.
"Just take me home." He says, and clambers into her car.
The drive is quiet. Erica puts a hand on his knee and squeezes. He climbs out when they park.
Everyone is sitting on the couch. His strings seem to cut loose, and he collapses onto his mothers lap.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." She strokes his back.
Derek begins to tear up, and then he does cry. He cries because Stiles isn't coming back: Derek isn't going to see him anymore, if ever again. He sniffs as she combs fingers through his hair.
"Please." He says. He feels the wordless shaking of her head.
"No." She whispers, and he jumps up off her lap.
"Please." He chokes. She just continues shaking her head.
He bends down to her. "Please, mama. No one needs to know. I'll keep it a secret. Please please please, it just hurts so much. Just let me — let me see him."
His mother holds his face in her two hands. She's crying. Derek feels hope blossoming. "No." She croaks.
He rips away from her hands. He stands in silence for a moment.
"Derek." She whispers.
"You'll lose me." He says with certainty. "You will lose me."
His parents don't respond. He climbs the stairs slowly. He hopes they might call his name. They don’t.
*
He isn't eating. He isn't sleeping. His cheeks hollow and his frame thins. Stiles glances at him concernedly in class, but when Derek catches his gaze, he scowls and glowers.
His parents worry. Derek is mute to it, arriving from school and going up to his room, staying there until the morning. Laura and Cora try to talk to him, but he ignores them. On a particularly bad night, when he can feel Stiles' confusion and agony, sense his racing thoughts and distress, they creep into his room and surround him, staying with him through the night. Full moons are the worst. His wolf feels the gaping hole in his heart and howls.
"Don't know what to do." He hears his mother say quietly one night from downstairs.
His father sighs. "We need to let him see him."
"I can't. You know what will happen." Their voices murmur.
"Stiles must be his mate."
"No. He's only seventeen. It can't be."
"You know what happens, you know the signs. He's starving himself."
"Well what am I supposed to do?" Talia shouts louder. "If I keep them apart, I'm killing my boy, if I let them be together, I'm killing my boy! You know what they'll do! He a human, he can't be his mate!"
"Talia. I can feel my son. And I can feel Stiles, can't you feel him? He's part of the pack. He's part of Derek."
Derek sits up in bed, holding his breath.
"I can't do it, John."
Derek falls back down.
"I don't think we have a choice. When he's old enough, he'll leave, and we won't be able to stop him. He'll never forgive us. He's seeing Stiles either way."
Derek has a restless nights sleep that night.
He doesn't want to have to choose.
*
When he comes down in the morning, everyone is quiet. The day passes uneventfully. When he gets home, he heads for the stairs, but his mother stops him.
"Can I speak with you?"
Derek stands quietly.
"Me and your father have decided to allow you to see Sti —“
Derek rushes out the door.
*
When he gets to Stiles' house, his heart is hammering. He knocks on the door. The sheriff answers, and immediately gives him a disapproving look.
"He doesn't want to talk to you." John states.
"Just one minute, sir. A minute." Stiles' dad goes to close the door, but Derek holds it open. "Please, sir. Please." He pleads, and something in his expression must tell John how desperate he is.
He sighs tiredly as he opens the door. Derek bounds up to Stiles' room, excitement and relief making him jittery. He pauses before he opens the door, but can only hear Stiles' soft breathing as he clicks in his laptop.
He knocks.
"Right, Dad, I'll be down in a second, I said I wasn't really that hungry." Stiles says. Derek opens the door. Stiles' back is to him.
"I'm fine dad I'm just —“ Stiles turns and then registers him.
Stiles stares for a moment before he turns back around. "What do you want?" He asks, and starts clicking.
Derek makes his stilted way to his bed. He sits. He sinks his hands into the covers. "I just wanted to talk."
"Oh, so you're talking to me now?" He sneers. "How's Erica?"
"We're just friends." He answers. Stiles' shoulders release some tension, involuntarily, because he tenses them back up again.
Derek is silent, looking at him.
"You know, Derek, I don't get you. We're best friends for eight years, and then suddenly you ditch me?"
Derek lies down on Stiles' bed and breathes. "I can explain." He murmurs. He’s so tired.
"Well, please do." Stiles holds out a hand.
"There was. Mm. Then a lot of stuff. Happened. Told I couldn't see you." Derek sighs blissfully. "But now I can." He huffs and passes out.
He wakes and notices it's dark, the room blanketed in grey. Stiles is dozing in his computer chair, head resting on his crumpled lap. He's showered, because he smells like clean soap and his hair is damp.
Derek jumps up on the bed. Stiles startles awake.
"Oh!" He says, and sits up on his chair. Derek blinks. Stiles comes over and settles on the edge.
"You fell asleep." He murmurs, and starts stoking his hair. Derek closes his eyes and bumps his head up onto Stiles' fingers. Stiles laughs softly. "I think you needed it. Have you been eating at all? You're skin and bone. There's some leftover pasta downstairs."
Derek nods, comatose in euphoria. He settles back down onto the pillow and let's his eyes drift.
"Are you going to tell me? Because I was pretty much left in the lurch there."
Derek sits up again. "I'm sorry. Everything was so." He sighs. "I was told I wasn't allowed to see you anymore."
"Why?"
Derek takes in a deep breath.
"Because you're a werewolf?"
He blows it out in astonishment.
"Because if it was that, I've known since I was ten."
Derek is aghast. "What?"
Stiles chuckles. "Yeah. I've mastered the art of lying. I've being doing it around you for decades."
"About what?" Derek frowns, bewildered.
Stiles puffs out his chest. He inhales for a moment. "I'm in love with you." He breathes.
His mother was right. He had known — but to hear it is no less astounding.
"Me too. I love you too." Derek says reverently, words falling from his mouth in a clumsy confession.
Stiles rounds wide, disbelieving eyes on him. "What?" He screeches. "Since when?"
"Uh. Kindergarten."
Stiles stands up. "Kinder — wow wow wow mister. We hardly spoke in kindergarten!"
"I know." Derek says simply. Stiles sits down again, weak.
"And I was okay with it hurting. But when my mother realised you loved me back, I had to stop seeing you."
Stiles' expression turns fuming. "How da—“
Derek cups his cheek. "We're werewolves. We aren't human, Stiles. There's an ancient pact that means we can't allow other humans to know. If we disobey it, we're silenced. Forever. It would have been dangerous to keep seeing each other. It was bound to come out. But I couldn't stay away." Derek looks down for a moment.
"I'm glad." Stiles replies quietly.
"Stiles I think." Derek clears his throat. "I think maybe. We're something called mates? Which is just werewolf talk for life partners or something. It's pretty serious."
Stiles smirks. "I know. I imprinted on you."
Derek blinks.
"Or marked you?"
Derek gapes.
"I had to secure you some way! Have you seen you!"
Derek's mouth works for a moment. "How?"
"Cooking and cleaning, providing for you, proving I could be a good parent, making an effort with your family. I read a lot of books."
Derek stutters. "But."
"So we're together forever now?" Stiles asks excitedly.
Derek relaxes and laughs, pulling Stiles down onto him. He inhales his soapy skin and presses his face into his shoulder. "Mmm. Looks like it."
Stiles tries to dance, but ends up just wriggling. Derek chuckles and closes his eyes for a moment.
Stiles freezes. "Wait. If you loved me since Kindergarten, then I didn't even do anything! How could you - I don't think you did." He chews on his lip.
"No, I did." Derek answers simply. "Mum loves to tell the story of my first day, when I came home and told them I was leaving to go live with my person. Supposedly, I had packed a pair of socks, some cookies and a hair dryer before they managed to stop me by assuring I would see my person tomorrow."
Stiles giggles. "Your person. I'm your person." He sighs, and then looks contemplative. "But if your mum knew then that I was our mate, why?"
Derek shrugs. "Maybe she didn't know, or thought I would change my mind. Just some silly crush."
Stiles hums and trails fingers over Derek's shoulders and his back. Derek shivers.
Stiles shuffles up and stares at him. Derek unconsciously flicks his eyes down to his parted mouth. Stiles' breath stutters.
"Could. Could I maybe." Stiles whispers. "Try something?"
Derek nods. Stiles leans forward slightly and bumps their lips together. At sixteen, it's clear neither of them have ever done this, but as Stiles tilts his head and Derek slides their mouths together, sparks of pleasure rush up his spine with Stiles' warmth and softness.
He trembles as he holds the back of Stiles' head, plays with the wet hair at the nape. Stiles pushes forwards and lines their bodies together, and the friction and heat causes electricity to spark along Derek's skin.
They part with a gasp. Stiles buries his head in Derek's chest shyly. "Was — was that okay for you?" He asks after a moment.
"That was great for me." Derek pants.
"Oh." Stiles whispers. "Me too."
Derek blushes and turns his face into Stiles' pillow. Stiles stretches and settles more comfortably against Derek.
Derek is drifting as Stiles jostles him awake.
"Should you be going home?"
"Ngh." He says.
Stiles slumps back down, but gazes at Derek. "Your parents might be worried."
Derek inhales Stiles' bed and his warm sleepy body. "Few more minutes."
And in a few minutes he'll go home, and the Argent's will be there, and his parents will shout and his sisters will stand defensively and Derek will explain that Stiles already knew about werewolves, which means they didn't admit anything, and Stiles is also his mate, which defies the pact because there’s no way Stiles could possibly harm him, or be able to live without him, and there’s no way Derek can live without Stiles.
The Argent's will glower, and there will be weeks of them going though secreted legislation, until they give up on finding a loophole.
Stiles quietly becomes part of his pack until he and Derek are never seen apart, and he doesn't have to choose because the people he cares about become one, but until those few minutes, he rests.