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“Get out of the road, Derek!” Stiles yells out his window. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
Derek shakes his head. “No.”
“I will run you over.”
“No you won’t,” Derek says confidently. Stiles inches his jeep forward and Derek startles. He looks like he’s not sure if Stiles will make due on his threat. Well, Stiles will, if Derek doesn’t get out of the fucking way.
“Stiles,” Scott begins tentatively from the passenger seat, “Maybe you better talk to him.”
“You!” Stiles whips to face him. “Since when have you been on Derek’s side?! You despise Derek!”
“I know, but he just.” Scott almost looks scared to continue, “Dude, you’ve been miserable. You mope around so much, I’m upset. C’mon, It can’t hurt to hear him out.”
“Ugh, I can’t believe this.” If his Scott isn’t on his side, who will be.
“Stiles,” Derek says, with a sad stupid emo look on his face. “Please.”
“Fuck!” Stiles says, hitting his steering wheel. “This is your fault, Derek. You did this. Not me.” He will be strong. He can resist Derek’s dumb face.
“I’m sorry,” he says, inching closer. “I’m really sorry, fuck, I know I messed up.”
“You did,” Stiles says bluntly, crossing his arms across his chest. Scott snorts.
Derek chuckles, tilting his head to the side. “I know you’ll never let me forget it.”
“Damn right,” Stiles says, but he feels his resolve softening. “You know you’re drawing a crowd, right?” The students of Beacon Hills High are all staring at them, mainly Derek.
“I don’t care,” Derek says, smiling with his stupid bunny teeth.
“Of course you don’t.”
“Get out of the fucking road and have your heart-to-heart somewhere else, losers!”
“Shut the fuck up, Jackson,” Stiles yells behind them. Jackson honks his obnoxious porsche.
“That is so cute,” a girl passing by with a group of friends says. “Gay pride!” She pumps her fist. Her friends nod in agreement.
“Oh my god,” Stiles says, dropping his head into his hands.
“Stiles?” Derek asks. “Please forgive me. Look, I even brought you curly fries.” Stiles looks up and notices a box of them and groans. Of course Derek did.
“Ugh,” Stiles says. He opens his car door and slams it violently, shaking the whole car. Scott winces.
He stomps to Derek. “You. Are. An. Asshole.”
“I know,” Derek says, smiling.
“The biggest asshole.”
“I know.” He rests his palms on Stiles’ hips and presses their foreheads together. Stiles shivers. Fuck, he missed Derek’s hands.
“Curly fries isn’t gonna cut it. You’re gonna be in the doghouse for a while, buddy.” He wags a finger in front of Derek’s face, who nods solemnly.
“I understand.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Stiles feels something brush against his thigh. “And, are those flowers?” He chokes, looking down. It’s a bouquet of tulips. When he looks up, Derek’s cheeks are pink. “Dude.”
He shrugs. “Laura told me to bring them.”
“It would be a lot harder to forgive you if you weren’t so adorable,” Stiles tells him, and then presses their lips together. Fuck, he missed kissing Derek.
Derek sighs against his mouth like a starved man. He brings his hands up and cups Stiles’ face gently. Pressing his thumbs down on Stiles’ chin, coaxes his mouth open, slipping his tongue in. Stiles moans, clutching at Derek’s arms and tilting his head back.
Somebody catcalls.
“Get it, Stilinski!”
Stiles flips whoever it is off and wraps his arms around Derek’s shoulders, breaking away from Derek’s lips. He rests his head on Derek’s shoulder and laughs. “You’re gonna have to do a lot to make up for all your shit, Hale.”
“I know,” Derek says, and Stiles can feel him smiling against his neck.
Jackson honks again.