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“Come on, Derek” Stiles pouted. “Please”.
“No”.
“Please, please, please” Stiles insisted.
“No”.
“But why not?” Stiles pounced himself onto Derek's side of the couch. “Please?”.
Derek looked at Stiles' face, painted with moles and freckles, his big bright hazel eyes looking into his own. He looked back, lowering his glasses and rising his expressive eyebrows, giving him an asking gaze.
“Really?” Derek asked. “Stiles, I'm trying to read”.
“But you can do that any other time!” Stiles made a face. “Come on, I wanna hear you, please”. Stiles said that a little hopeless.
Derek stared a bit, took his glasses off of his face, closed his copy of 'Gypsy Ballads by Federico García Lorca' and dropped them on the coffee table. “Fine” he huffed. He could not resist that face, and that voice, and to be totally honest, he could not resist Stiles.
“Yes!” Stiles shouted happily. “You're the best, dude” and he hugged Derek, that took him by surprise, but returned the hug anyways.
Derek sighed. How did he arrive at this point of desperation? He met Stiles almost one year ago, when Derek needed a new flatmate to pay the rent. At first it was strange, Stiles was a lot different compared to his last flatmate, who left the appartment one day without warning Derek, the asshole. Stiles was way too much better. He was clean, organized, a little cocky sometimes, but Derek liked it, no matter what. He usually was on his own, he didn't bother Derek too much, at first. One day Derek was watching a documental on the life of Antonio Machado, or something like that, because Derek only remembered Stiles sitting beside him and his lips moving while they talked about comic books, or something, Stiles' mouth was very distracting, okay? Frankly, Stiles was hot, and Derek noticed it, he was not blind.
With time, they became almost inseparable friends but at some point, Derek started to feel more than just a mere friendly feeling should be, towards Stiles, and it only would complicate the things, because Stiles was not into boys, right? It was a bit painful to stay calm down near him but he was happy seeing Stiles being happy. So yes, he was fucked, and deeply in love.
Stiles was a freshman at Beacon Hills University, taking a programming degree, and since the day he found out that Derek's major was in Hispanic Literature and he was in his senior year, he asked day, after day, after day to talk in spanish to him, even if he didn't understand a word of it. Stiles never succeeded in. Derek fought him everytime, because he was really shy and ashamed to talk in public, although his spanish pronunciation was nearly perfect, until that Sunday of October, Derek was really tired of that situation and forced himself to face his fears.
“So what did you have in mind? What do you want me to say?” he asked, shyly. And the joy crossing Stiles' face was priceless. It took him a while but finally Stiles spoke.
“Stiles is the best guy in the world!” he grinned.
“Lame” Derek rolled his eyes “Stiles es el mejor tío del mundo”.
Stiles dropped his jaw down. “Oh my fucking God, that sounded awesome!”
“But I didn't say anything important” Derek smirked at him.
“Then tell me, big guy, I just want to hear you”.
Derek totally did not blush, he really did not.
“Mmhh... Let me think about something” Derek hummed. Without thinking it thoroughly he started.
“Soy capaz de perderme en tus ojos para nunca regresar cada vez que me hablas” I'm capable of loosening myself in your eyes to never come back everytime you talk to me.
“Wow, will you translate that? For me?” Stiles asked, astonished.
“Nope” Derek answered simply, smirking amused at Stiles' pouts.
“Fine, but don't stop, keep going Derek!” Stiles cheered, shaking Derek's arm.
“Fine, fine, my God Stiles, shush!” he said, hiting him on his chest, playfully and Stiles made an impatient noise.
“Quiero tenerte entre mis brazos, para protegerte y comfortarte cuando lo necesites” I want to hold you in my arms, to protect you and comfort you whenever you need it.
“Estoy harto de tener que esconderme de lo que siento realmente por tí, pero temo que me rechaces” I'm sick of hiding from what I really feel for you, but I'm afraid of you rejecting me.
Stiles was looking at him interested, focused on Derek's expressions as he was talking, voice deep and sweet. While Derek talked, sure Stiles wasn't understanding anything, but his attentive gaze towards Derek was total. Stiles looked into Derek's eyes and, ocasionally, Derek's lips, too. Derek did not notice that, of course, he was looking at his hands, awkwardly.
“Me haces reír, aun cuando estoy en uno de mis famosos modos gruñones” You make me laugh, even if I'm in one of my famous grumpy moods.
Stiles chuckled at the sound of the word 'gruñones' and Derek just rolled his eyes in response. He kept going with his non-meant-to-be love confession speech.
“Mi día nunca está completo si no te veo sonreír almenos una vez” My day is never completed if I don't see you smiling at least once.
“Me encanta cuando te entusiasmas sobre las cosas que te gustan” I love when you get exited about the things you like.
“Odio verte triste o enfadado y no poder comfortarte de la manera que me gustaría hacerlo” I hate to see you sad or angry and don't be able to comfort you the way I'd love to.
Stiles shifted a bit on the couch, grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it on his lap. Derek wished that he could be that pillow. Great, he was jealous of a fucking pillow, 'So clever, Derek', he told himself.
“Todas las cosas que no puedo decirte por culpa del puto miedo” All the things I can't say to you because of the fucking fear's fault.
“Me gustas, te quiero, creo que estoy enamorado de tí, y si confesartelo significa que te alejes de mí, no lo haré, lo soportaré en silencio, porque tú vales la pena” I like you, I want you, I think I've fallen in love with you, and if confessing it to you means you moving away from me, I won't do it, I'll bear with it in silence, because you're worth it.
“Te amo, pero no quiero joder las cosas, la amistad que tenemos es valiosa para mí-” I love you, but I don't want to fuck things up, our friendship is valuable for me-
“Derek, did you just, mmhm” Stiles cut him “Did you just say that you love me?” He finally blurted out.
Derek leaked out of his bubble, how did Stiles now that?
“What?” he felt so lost, he even panicked a bit but he managed to ask “How, ehm, how did you know that?” coughing awkwardly.
Stiles threw the pillow nowhere to be seen, he got closer to Derek's face and rested his hand on Derek's cheek. Derek shivered a bit at the touch. Stiles' hand was warm againts his skin, and they looked right in the eyes.
“Derek, 'I love you' is the most translatable sentence in the wide world, well, that one and 'Fuck you'” Stiles made a pause, it seemed to be an eternity for Derek but Stiles was getting even closer and Derek was able to sense the phantom of Stiles breath above his own lips, but he kept talking. “Te amo, Derek, je t'aime, ti amo, ich liebe dich, whatever, I love you, too” he whispered against Derek's mouth before finally pressing their lips together.
The kiss was fast and desperate, like the both of them had been waiting too long for it, sure Derek had waited for a long time, but Stiles? It took him by surprise and he was shocked, he couldn't even move. Stiles noticed it, and slowly, separated from Derek, he looked at him, then he made a face and stood up, ready to leave, looking ashamed and mumbling something. Derek came back down to earth and reacted as fast as he could, he grabbed Stiles' right hand and pushed him on his lap. Their bodies were pressing together on the couch and Derek looked at those hazel eyes that he loved and touched Stiles' bottom lip with his thumb, like he was asking permission, Stiles just nodded.
Derek captured Stiles' mouth with his, savouring him and then deepened the kiss, inserting his tongue in Stiles' mouth as he did the same. That second kiss was long, hot and wet, heated with the exitement of the moment. Suddenly, they needed to stop, the mere action of breathing was demanded by their bodies. Gasping, Stiles rested his forehead on Derek's. Both of them with their lips parted, Stiles' mouth was swollen by Derek's stubble. He looked beautiful.
“You look beautiful” Derek said.
“Oh shut up” Stiles breathed, blushing. “You idiot, confessing when I couldn't understand you, you're such a coward” he smirked, poking Derek's chest with his index finger, playfully.
“But you love me, anyway” Derek couldn't erase Stiles' words. 'Te amo, Derek, je t'aime, ti amo, ich liebe dich, whatever, I love you, too' . He was remembering them over and over again, they were everything inside Derek's head, wandering around his mind, with no intention to leave anytime soon.
“Yeah, I do” and kissed Derek once more and they cuddled in the couch. For a long time, Derek didn't felt this way, and he loved the sensation of Stiles' torso behind his back. The sensation of Stiles' fingers runing on Derek's hair kindly. 'I could get used to it' he thought, melting into the touch.
“Stiles?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you like to go out with me some time? Like, a date?”
“More than anything” and Stiles pulled Derek into a sweet sloppy kiss, sealing their deal.
Yeah, Derek definitely could get used to it.