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2012-06-23
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Let Me Wet My Lips On Your Skin

Summary:

"Stiles?" Derek's voice, which was actually really nice when he wasn't growling, yelling or barking orders, pulled him from his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"What? Yeah! I mean, I'm okay, I guess, you know still kind of -- shaky," he laughed, a little high pitched, as he lifted his hand and indeed he was still trembling minutely. Stiles opened his mouth to continue his tirade on how totally okay he was when he sneezed abruptly.

Right. In Derek's face.

Notes:

Episode tag for Abomination. Enjoy yourself some Sterek. :D Un-beta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

Work Text:

By the time Derek made it to the Stilinski household, Scott was pulling into the driveway with his mother's borrowed car and was letting Stiles out, the two chatting for a few more moments before Stiles was waving and Scott was backing out of the driveway and, he assumed, headed home. Derek himself was moving from his vantage point behind a nearby tree toward the house, scaling the wall and jumping up to the roof, and then to the teen's windowsill.

Perching there, he waited and even before Stiles entered the room he could smell the Chlorine from the pool over the teen's own scent. He could also smell the weariness Stiles was feeling and a part of Derek knew he owed the kid his life for saving him, even if he had let go once.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't felt a pang of betrayal from it, even if he knew at the time it'd been necessary -- that didn't mean it hadn't still stung. But he knew very well that Stiles hadn't betrayed him, even if at the time it'd felt like it. The teen was braver than most he knew, even if he never gave the kid much credit for it, it never went unnoticed.

Like tonight. Derek had put himself between Stiles and that thing, willingly turned his back on the enemy to push Stiles away, to keep him safe. It was a foolish move that nearly cost him his life -- both their lives. Then there was Stiles -- Stiles, who could have left, could have turned tail and ran to save his own skin like he should have done in the beginning.

But he hadn't, he'd stayed and attempted to help Derek to safety -- even went so far as to jump in after him and keep him afloat for nearly two and a half hours, give or take.

No, he didn't give Stiles nearly as much credit as the teen deserved.

Derek was broken from his thoughts when the door to Stiles' bedroom opened and light flooded the room as he hit the switch. And screamed, arms flailing, at the sight of the werewolf on his windowsill.

"Oh my god!" The teen exclaimed, hand clutching to his chest as he leaned against the now closed door. "Do you think we could please keep me alive for at least one day? I think I've had enough of being scared to last me a frigging lifetime, Jesus, what do you even want? In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of still all wet," Stiles complained, gesturing to his sopping tracksuit.

Instead of answering, Derek merely hopped off the sill and into the room. Stiles snorted softly and rolled his eyes, gesturing to the man. "No, really, by all means come on in, not like you need to knock or ask permission or anything. Not like you're a vampire and I could just rescind my invitation."

Stiles stood there for a moment before huffing and flailing his arms in exasperation, then headed for his dresser to pull out some clean clothes. "Whatever, look, what did you want? Cause I'd really like to shower, get dressed in something that's not wet and clingy and then sleep for a year. And honestly? That sounds a lot better than standing here listening to you breathe."

Derek was still silent, an ever looming presence in the quiet room, taking note of the way Stiles moved, the slight tremor of his hands as he pulled the drawer open and fished out a t-shirt and some boxers. When the teen turned to complain that Derek was still here and still not talking, Derek was there the moment Stiles' legs gave out, catching him with arms about his waist to keep him from hitting the ground.

Stiles had no idea what the hell just happened. He'd been aware of the slight shake in his hands and legs that had nothing to do with the paralytic that had affected him earlier in the day, going on autopilot since he left the school. It was likely the adrenaline of the night wearing off, now that he was out of harms way -- and just when he had begun thinking of Derek as harmless? Or at least non-harmful, because he's pretty sure with the amount of growling and wall-slamming going on that he would at least be fearful of that, but he wasn't.

His legs felt weak and both hands were clutching tight to the plain black shirt Derek was now wearing, his body trembling. Stiles kept his head bowed, ears and neck pink with embarrassment as he silently cursed his legs for giving out at that moment of all times.

Derek was warm around his waist and against his front, the heat seeping in even through the damp tracksuit he was still wearing. His breath came out a little ragged as he pulled back -- or attempted to, as Derek had yet to relinquish his hold on the teen.

"Um," Stiles started, trying his best at not having to look up at the werewolf. "You can, uh, let me go now? I mean I'm okay now, thanks. I guess it was just... you know, everything catching up to me or something. But I'm totally cool now -- or freezing actually, cause being in wet clothes kind of takes all the warm away, you know? Okay, you can let go of me now please, I'd appreciate that, thanks."

This time Stiles did look up at Derek and when he did it baffled him at what he saw. There was this strange, oddly fond expression on Derek's face and he knew the minute Derek realized Stiles saw it because just like that the man closed up again, face falling carefully blank and Stiles had to bite back the urge to tell him no, don't stop looking like that. It was a good look and Stiles liked it.

It was weird how over the last couple months Derek went from someone Stiles had been absolutely terrified of to someone he trusted with his life. There hadn't been many 'get to know you' scenarios other than the times he had spent with Derek in his Jeep or in his room, like now. Stiles had often found himself sparing precious moments -- like missing his chance at first line -- to help the werewolf. And in turn Derek had saved him many times over. It struck him that he never really thanked Derek for those times.

In those two hours they spent in the pool, with Derek held tight to him, he had the opportunity to work over in his head why he didn't feel threatened by Derek anymore. Sure, there were moments where the werewolf still startled him or scared him but there was never any real fear because Derek had saved him enough times for him to know that Derek wouldn't hurt him. The growling and the threatening was just his way to keep Stiles in line. And it worked, most of the time.

Okay, so maybe he kind of sort of possibly had growing feelings for Derek. Sure, the guy was attractive, you had to be either blind or dead to not see it. And okay he was attracted to attractive people -- male or female, but he'd gotten over that crisis years ago. So yes, Derek was hot and he was attracted to the man and he'd thought that had been the extent of it. Until Derek had been scratched.

And yeah, Derek had been hurt before but at the time he hadn't known Derek long, saw him as something -- someone -- to fear, someone they needed to stay alive so in turn it was important to keep Derek alive.

But when he saw Derek tip into the pool and sink, the fear he felt was so very different. There'd been a panic he'd never felt before at the thought of Derek dying, of not being able to save him. Of not ever seeing Derek again and he couldn't, couldn't, lose someone else he cared about. And that was pretty much how Stiles figured out he was maybe in love with the big ol sourwolf.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice, which was actually really nice when he wasn't growling, yelling or barking orders, pulled him from his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Stiles' gaze refocused and widened as he realized belatedly he was still staring, possibly quite intently as he'd gotten lost in his own thoughts, at the man's face. His own instantly colored as he looked away.

"What? Yeah! I mean, I'm okay, I guess, you know still kind of -- shaky," he laughed, a little high pitched, as he lifted his hand and indeed he was still trembling minutely. Stiles opened his mouth to continue his tirade on how totally okay he was when he sneezed abruptly.

Right. In Derek's face. Which caused the man to flinch and remove an arm from around Stiles' waist so he could wipe his face with his hand.

"Oh my god," Stiles started, completely and utterly mortified. "I am so sorry, I didn't even -- I wasn't going to -- I didn't even feel sneezy!" The teen sneezed two more times after that, but at least he felt it coming this time and was able to cover his mouth when he did.

Derek frowned and pulled both hands back to grip the teen's shoulders, then spun him toward the door and marched Stiles toward it, the teen stumbling slightly at the sudden ushering. "Shower," was all the man said when Stiles turned his head to look back, mouth open like he wanted to protest. Which he did.

"What? I mean now? Because I kind of think I've hit my limit of being in water tonight. You know, I think I've suddenly developed a phobia for water. Yes! That's right, I'm scared of water. So I'm not taking a shower and you can't make me." Stiles knew how petulant and childish that sounded, but he had this weird issue with Derek telling him what to do, like he had to constantly challenge him. It really did nothing for the fact he said he wanted to shower before going to bed anyway.

Derek watched the teen splutter as he opened the bedroom door and shoved him out of it. He knew he'd likely regret this whole scenario but none the less Stiles was under his protection. Whether the teen knew it or not, Stiles was part of his pack. He had been since the beginning, since the first time he saved him and went out on a line for him.

It was probably also the first time he had ever saw Stiles as someone that had potential. And having gotten to know the teen he thought that even more intensely, regardless of the fact Stiles was human. Though he thought Stiles would make an excellent wolf, he respected the teen's choice not to. His own family line had many humans in it, that stayed human. He understood the choice and though some might think otherwise, didn't think any less of him for it.

Pushing the shaking teen into the bathroom across the hall, he hit the light switch and kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot. It didn't slam per se but it closed hard enough that Stiles jolted and he had to grip the kid by the back of his tracksuit to keep him from trying to bolt as he turned the water on in the shower.

Then Derek pushed Stiles toward the shower stall and motioned to it. "Strip and get in." Stiles squawked at him, eyes owl-wide and blinking. "I -- what? Are you kidding me? You're just... what, going to stand there while I get n-naked and shower?" The teen spluttered.

Derek just cocked a brow and folded his arms over his chest. "Oh my god, you can't be serious?!" Stiles exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "What is this, some sort of weird interrogation tactic?! Because it's not going to work, okay? I'm just -- I'm done with you trying to strong-arm me into telling you things that I don't know!"

"Are you done?" Derek asked, looking unimpressed.

"Oh screw you, do you even know what I've been through?! I watched someone die, some innocent guy and then almost died myself! Not only that but I kept your sorry sour ass afloat for more than two hours! I'm sore and tired and I hurt and I just want this all to stop so I can fucking breathe and--"

Stiles went rigid when he felt arms round him and a warm chest against his cheek. His breath hitched and his brows drew in as he tried to figure out what the hell was happening. Oh god, was Derek hugging him?! He was, wasn't he?! Holy shit, alert the media, Derek was actually hugging someone.

"You're shaking again," was all Derek said in reply to Stiles' stunted silence and the teen just nodded and let out a shaky breath. "I'm not going to interrogate you anymore. You can barely stand on your own, I'm only going to help you. I don't want you falling and cracking your head open and drowning in two inches of water. I think that would defeat the purpose of living through tonight."

"Thanks, by the way, for saving me tonight or trying to -- and every other time you saved me."

Derek was silent for a moment, his hand coming up to gently press against the back of Stiles' head. "Yeah, me too."

Stiles muffled a soft laugh against Derek's chest as he pulled back a little, and this time Derek let him, his arms falling away though neither moved. "So, what, you're just going to watch me shower like a stalky creeper?" Stiles asked, changing the topic.

"No, I'm going to join you."

"I -- no -- what? -- Are you -- you're serious, aren't you?" Stiles squeaked out, though he would definitely deny there was any sort of squeaking going on.

"I take care of my own. You're shaking, barely able to stand and on the verge of getting a cold. You need to warm up," Derek said as he tugged his own shirt off and set it on the edge of the counter space by the sink.

"Oh my god, you are serious," and this time Stiles definitely did squeak as he looked away from Derek's muscled, chiseled chest which was actually very, very nice to look at. "And what do you mean 'take care of you're own', I don't want you to feel like, obligated to help me because I saved you or something."

"I'm not," Derek said, then sighed like he was getting tired and exasperated with Stiles -- which he probably was. "You're pack, Stiles. I take care of my pack, that's what Alphas do."

And okay, that made sense to Stiles, it really did, but seriously though when the hell did he become part of Derek's pack?

"The first time you helped save me, the first time you showed allegiance to me," Derek said and wow, Stiles really needed to work on his brain-to-mouth filter.

"But what about Scott? Why isn't he part of your pack then?" asked Stiles, standing there with his hands clenched in his tracksuit like he wasn't sure whether or not he should actually start stripping.

"He wasn't bitten by me, Stiles, remember? He hasn't submitted to me yet," Derek then began working on the buttons of his jeans, popping them and tugging down the zipper.

"What about me?" Stiles asked, trying hard to keep the squeaking down to a minimum. But Derek just gave him this 'we already discussed that' look, which Stiles got loud and clear.

"Strip, or I do it for you."

"You wouldn't!"

"... Stiles"

"Oh my god, okay!"

Derek waited patiently as the teen began to strip, awkward and jerky movements as he unzipped the jacket of his tracksuit and shoved it into the sink itself as it was still wet. He was aware that Stiles wasn't unattractive. There were many things about Stiles that were attractive and not just his physical features. And he wasn't not attracted to Stiles, because he was. He really, really was and in the beginning it had baffled him to find himself attracted to such an annoying teen, though his wolf begged to differ. Stiles was perfect, it had whispered to him.

Challenging and bold, compassionate and caring, loyal and trustworthy. All the things that made Stiles who he was, all the things that made Stiles perfect. Before now he never would have let himself attain that kind of... happiness. But the incident at the pool changed all that. The thought of losing Stiles in any way was unacceptable and his wolf agreed.

Derek raised both brows at the sight of Stiles in his boxers, arms crossed over his naked chest. "I'm keeping them on," the teen muttered defiantly.

Yes, definitely challenging. "That's fine, get in," Derek said as he pushed his jeans down and bent to pull off his boots and socks to get them off, setting them to the side before rolling his jeans haphazardly after tugging them off and setting them on the counter with his shirt.

Stiles was already in the shower, the warm water beating down on him and making him shiver, by the time Derek joined him. And it was actually a lot more difficult than he thought it would be to not look at Derek, who was thankfully not completely naked but in a pair of black boxer-briefs which, really, didn't help any at all and left literally nothing to the imagination.

Warm, damp hands gripped his shoulder and spun him around to face Derek, whose expression was carefully impassive as he stood in front of him. It was really difficult for Stiles not to stare, even worse than before. He felt the man push him back into the stream of water, pouring down his back and chest. Then Derek was leaning in and reaching past him to grab the small beige loofah, the closeness making his heart skip a beat. If Derek heard it -- which how could he not with his freakish wolf hearing -- he didn't seem to care or take notice.

Then Stiles felt the warm rough material of it on his shoulders and chest which pulled him from his daze to look down, watching Derek's hand move the loofah over his skin in wide swipes. Cleaning him. Derek was cleaning him. It reminded him of this special he saw on wolves and how they took care of and cleaned one another, specifically the cubs.

... Derek was cleaning him like a wolf cub! He wasn't sure whether to be pleased or mortified. "At least you're not using your tongue." Mortified, definitely mortified. But Derek didn't look upset, maybe, perhaps, a little pleased with himself if the small twitch of his lips said anything.

"I could if you want," Derek replied, looking way too amused by this than he should.

Stiles just shook his head. "No, no, that's -- that's okay. This is nice, the spongy thing instead of the tongue thing though I'm sure that would feel nice too but definitely not -- would you please stop laughing. I know you're laughing at me, I can see your shoulders shaking would you please stop?" Stiles asked, huffing out in annoyance though he wasn't really all that annoyed.

Derek was indeed chuckling a little, finding it amusing the way it was so easy to get Stiles riled up and talking non-stop. He used to find it more annoying than anything but now... well, he thought it was kind of endearing. He often wondered why Stiles ever bothered with trying to lie to him when he knew that Derek could tell, unless he honestly thought he was that good at lying. It was likely the latter. Hint: he wasn't.

He slid the loofah up over Stiles' shoulders in wide sweeps, then up along his neck, tilting the teen's head back a little and without thinking swiped his thumb across Stiles' pulse point, feeling it thud and skip against the pad of his thumb, the slight intake of breath causing his gaze to lift to the teen's face. Stiles' eyes were closed and features slack, mouth parted and inviting, whether it was meant to be or not.

"You wouldn't be on the verge of illness if you were a wolf," Derek said seemingly offhand, as he rubbed his thumb across Stiles' throat once more before dragging the loofah down across his chest, and lower toward his stomach.

The sensation made Stiles shudder as his eyes snapped open and he straightened slightly with a glare. "No, I'm not letting anyone turn me. End of story," he stated, then let out a huff, glare still in place. "What is it with you Hales and offering to turn me? Jesus, I told him the same thing I'm telling you now. No. I don't want to be a werewolf. I don't care if I'm the last human in the damn cit--"

Stiles let out a yelp as he suddenly found himself pressed against the cold tiled wall with Derek in his face, fangs bared and eyes flashing red, sponge abandoned on the floor of the shower. Well, he hadn't really missed this at all.

"What?"

"What, what?"

"What. Did my uncle. Say."

"Oh I -- what? You mean you don't -- I thought you knew?" Stiles said, confused and a little surprised that Derek hadn't known.

"Obviously. Now tell me."

Stiles swallowed, licking his lips a little before speaking. "After Lydia... after Lydia got bit I told him I'd help him find Scott if he let her live and didn't kill her. So -- So I did, I helped him track Scott down and then he offered to bite me. Said he liked me and did this weirdly seductive sales pitch thing to get me to say yes. But I didn't, I didn't want it."

And he knew Peter had been right when he'd told Stiles that he was lying, that he did want it. Stiles did, part of him anyway. He wanted to be stronger and faster and better -- but he also knew it came with a price and he couldn't do that to his dad, who had already lost so much. He couldn't, and wouldn't, put his dad in that kind of danger, not when he knew exactly the kind of things they dealt with.

The growl that Derek let out should have frightened him, but it didn't though it made him shiver. "Where," Derek bit out. "Where did he try to bite you."

After a few hesitant moments, Stiles lifted his right arm and exposed his wrist. Seeing this only made Derek's eyes flash as the werewolf snarled. Though with a gentleness he hadn't expected -- not from the way Derek was now, half wolfed out -- his wrist was taken in a tender grasp.

Derek pulled Stiles' naked wrist up as he leaned in and pressed his nose against the warm, damp skin. He could no longer scent his uncle's presence on Stiles' skin or person, but just the fact that it'd been there at one time had him growling, low and feral, in his throat. Nosing against the slender wrist he held, Derek licked a stripe over the skin, trying to erase every inch of where his uncle had touched Stiles and replacing it with his own scent.

Beneath the smell of Stiles and lingering Chlorine was a faint trace of arousal. He could feel the way Stiles' pulse picked up and the soft stutter of his breath as Derek licked over the teen's wrist again.

"Stiles."

He had never heard or felt so much in one word before, in his name being said like that. Stiles couldn't help the way his heart rate skyrocketed the moment Derek had lifted his wrist in a near identical way Peter had done back then. Only instead of feeling afraid and disgusted, Stiles was more turned on than he'd ever been.

It didn't help that Derek was watching him, eyes red and trained on him, taking in every motion he made. He wasn't afraid in the least.

Stiles didn't know what made him decide to be so bold, now of all times, but he was suddenly pushing up and well within Derek's space to press his mouth to the other man's. He thought for a moment he'd made the biggest mistake of his life when Derek went rigid against him but was relieved when the man growled and pressed him back against the wall, tongue licking into his mouth and claiming, taking Stiles' in a rough kiss.

His other arm rose up to wrap around Derek's neck, feeling Derek's other hand grasp his hip as he pressed in close. Which Stiles was definitely, fully a-okay with, honestly he was. This was like the best thing to ever happen to him right now. A low groan tumbled out of him as he felt Derek press even closer, pushing him back even tighter against the hard surface of the wall behind him and his fingers dug into warm, damp skin at Derek's back, causing the werewolf to growl softly.

Then he felt the sudden overwhelming feel of hips pushing against his own and pulling away from the kiss, Stiles moaned and panted heavily. "Oh god, don't you dare stop," he breathed out, pressing forward, rocking his hips against Derek in return, fast but steady.

Derek dropped Stiles' hand to grasp the teen by the hips, growling as he rocked against him, the hard line of his cock rubbing against Stiles' in a quick, dirty grind. He hadn't realized just how much he wanted this until it was happening, until Stiles had kissed him. Hadn't realized until then that this was something he could actually have.

He didn't stop but he slowed their pace and dropped his head to nose against the side of Stiles' face affectionately. "Is this okay?" Derek asked quietly, "Stiles, this okay?" Because he had to make sure, had to be sure it was something Stiles wanted, couldn't stand himself if he didn't.

The teen nodded frantically as his hands scrabbled to keep Derek close. "Oh god, yes, yes it's fine, it's okay, definitely -- definitely okay. So please don't stop, I will kill you if you stop right now," Stiles panted out as he closed the fraction of space between them with another kiss.

This time Derek didn't hold back. He rocked his hips forward with less grace and rhythm than usual, wanting this too much to worry about finesse, and he was pleased to see it didn't bother Stiles in the least with how the teen was moaning and moving beneath him. His hands moved from Stiles' hips to slide in beneath the soaked boxers to grasp his ass, tugging him roughly forward and causing the teen to cry out against his mouth.

Pulling away to breath, Stiles moaned out loudly as his hips jerked forward, rubbing hard and quick, feeling Derek thick and hard against him. "Derek, Derek, please... I'm so close, Derek, please." The werewolf growled softly as he ducked his head to scrape sharp teeth against the teen's neck, causing Stiles to gasp and his hips to stutter hard forward. "N-No, no bad wolf! No biting!" Though he couldn't deny the spark of lust that rushed through him at the sharp pinprick of Derek's fangs against his skin.

Instead, Derek mouthed against Stiles' neck, sucking and licking a spot as he rutted against the teen, muffling his own moans against Stiles' skin, his hands kneading against the teen's ass, fingers sliding between his cheeks to tease and rub against his hole. Stiles moaned loudly at the sensation, so Derek did it again, sliding his finger against him to elicit the same sounds as before, pleased when Stiles didn't disappoint.

Then Derek pressed his finger in, carefully and up to the first knuckle. A loud, choked half-cry sprung from Stiles as his hips jerked hard in rapid succession and the scent of the teen's come hit his nose, making him moan loudly and his own thrusts speed up. A low snarling growl escaped him as he came, rutting slow but hard as he worked himself through it.

They stayed like that for a long while until Derek slowly pulled away, but stopped when Stiles' arms clung to him. "No, no you're not leaving. I don't care what you think this was or whatever just happened, but you're not leaving." Stiles' voice broke a little as he spoke and Derek leaned in to nose against the teen's cheek.

"I'm not, but the water's getting cold. Defeats the purpose of being in the shower in the first place, don't you think?" His voice was almost teasing when he spoke and only then did Stiles relent and let him go.

Stiles' face was still flushed from excitement and a little embarrassment, but he got over it quickly and watched as Derek turned the water off and stepped out to retrieve two towels from the rack, then proceeded to dry him off.

"I can dry off myself, thank you very much, I'm not a --" Derek's low growl cut him off and Stiles just sighed and made a motion with his hand. "Fine, fine, by all means, carry on." Derek did and Stiles didn't feel guilty about it at all.

At least until Derek tugged down his sopping boxers and tossed them to the side of the tub. Stiles groaned and buried his face in his hands as Derek chuckled and wrapped the towel around his waist, then threw the teen's clothes at him, hitting him in the face and causing Stiles to squawk and flail to catch them before they hit the wet floor of the tub.

After he'd gotten dressed, Stiles stared as Derek pulled his wet boxer-briefs off and tossed them in with Stiles, appreciating Derek's fine naked ass as he watched the man get dressed again. And okay, it was kind of really hot knowing he was going commando like that. Shaking his head, he headed out of the bathroom and into his own bedroom to flop onto the bed and sigh.

Then he rolled over and moved over to one side of the bed, watching as Derek came in after a few moments later. Without pause Derek walked over to the bed and moved up onto it, taking the space Stiles left for him, then pulled the teen in against him with an arm around his waist.

It didn't take long for Stiles to speak up. "So, that was a thing that happened."

"It did."

"And um, was that just... relief of stress? A one time thing? Was I just like, your one night stand or something?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," Derek growled softly as he rolled Stiles over onto his back and blanketed him with his large body, causing the teen to squeak in surprise.

"Okay, so... are we a thing, then? Cause if it were up to me we totally would be, because I want us to be a thing, I want there to be an 'us'. If -- If that's okay, if you want that."

"I do."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"You could sound at least a little more enthusiastic about that, you know. You sound like someone kicked your puppy."

"Would you rather me jump and scream?"

"I would, yes." Stiles grinned, to which Derek just rolled his eyes and huffed. "Not a chance, now shut up."

"And if I don't?"

"... I revoke the right to have sex with you."

"Oh my god, that's so unfair! You can't do that! Isn't that like, against the rules or something?"

"I didn't know there were rules to dating."

Stiles blinked and stared up at Derek who was looking down at him, a small smirk turning the corner of his lips and before he could reply to that, Derek leaned in and silenced him with a kiss.

"Yes, Stiles, that means I want to date you."

"... Awesome."

Derek rolled his eyes at the way Stiles grinned up at him, wide and bright and happier in a way he'd never seen before. It made his chest swell knowing he'd put it there.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's neck as he leaned in for a kiss, lips warm against his own. "You're nothin' but a big ole softywolf, aren't you. I knew you liked me."

"Someone has to."

"Ha-ha, very funny. I'm totally calling you that from now on, softywolf."

"Stiles."

"Kidding, kidding. Now come here so I can kiss you, which I'm going to do all the time. Because I can. Because we're totally dating now and that makes us a couple and that's what couples do."

As Derek leaned down to shut the teen up with a kiss, as requested, Stiles sneezed.

"Oh my god, Derek, I'm so sorry!"