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„I can’t believe you would do this to me. After all these years after all we’ve been through. “Stiles held on to the banister, determinedly staring down at Kira’s vegetable garden. He couldn’t, wouldn’t face Derek like this not with tears in his eyes and probably horrible blotchy red skin. He’d rather jump down, first floor roughly 5 meters down, he’d probably survive it and wouldn’t have to deal with this conversation. Also, wouldn’t have to deal with Derek because the others inside would get to him first, or not because Derek would probably jump after him, or use his stupid werewolfy powers to prevent any injuries.
He sighed and rested his head against the banister instead. Focusing on his shoes, trying to ease the feeling of vertigo after looking down. The last drink had definitely been a bad idea.
“Stiles, are you really going to be mad about this?” He heard Derek coming closer, stopping next to him. “It’s just fun; you said it was okay.”
The gentle tone, the distance or rather the lack of it between them, the slight worry and doubt in his voice, it was all too much, as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough the rest of the time now it had to dangle soft Derek in front of him, when even the sourwolf version had made Stiles incapable of rational thoughts.
He felt the soft touch of Derek’s hand on his shoulder and him leaning in and what the fuck, why was he being so nice tonight. This was enough, he had to draw a fucking line for his own sanity. He shook the hand off, standing up and turning towards Derek, consciously putting space between them. Because, Fuck, Derek never looked at him like that. If he did Stile would live in Peru raising Llamas by now, having fled after a horrible impulsive proposal he made because of that look and a shocked (repulsed?!?!) refusal by Derek.
“Of course, I said it was okay. I understand that you have lots of past issues to deal with and that being constantly surrounded by a pack of overeager, helpless, let’s face it, puppies undoubtedly forces you to not pay attention to me. -” He saw Derek opening his mouth, confusion written all over his face. Derek was confused?? So, Stiles raised his hand because he needed to say this, if he stopped now he may never try again.
“And I am completely okay with that. I promise I’ll tell somebody if I am feeling possessed or evil again, really. But this -” He waved his hand between them. “You opening up to me and being this weird nice version of yourself that pretends to care about me, I can’t deal with it okay!? Just stop, return to your sourwolf self.” He facepalmed and groaned. “No that’s not fair you should be who you want to be, just don’t be around me when you want to be soft and cuddly. Because guess what, that makes people want to cuddle you and your fucking collection of soft looking jumpers. Wait! That’s not the point I am trying to make. Wear what you want, but come on, you must realise what you are doing to me. I do realise that at this point you are probably annoyed to death by me and my unableness to keep calm around you. You simply can’t be oblivious to my feelings.”
He could hear his own heart beating too fast, his cheeks tingling with blood rushing through and his lungs grasping for air after talking too much too fast. Perhaps he should look at Derek, to check his reaction, but then he would also have to look at Derek and accept his reaction, moving on from limbo where there was always still a chance, a possibility of Derek accepting maybe even returning his feelings. And even if Derek distanced himself after this, Stiles would still have everybody else, he was pretty sure they wouldn’t leave him behind. Taking a deep breath, because there was no reason to panic (you can’t lose what you never had to begin with right??) Stiles looked up.
Derek seemed frozen in front of him. Leaning forward with his arms outstretched as if he had been frozen mid step. He was frowning and looking at Stiles lost and unsure.
“Stiles what are you talking about? Your feelings about what, the game?” Derek talked calmly and slow, lowering his hands, as if he was approaching a scared child. This was unfair nobody should seem that nice and loveable when rejecting somebody.
“Of course, I am not talking about that stupid game, I couldn’t care less about the freaking game. Are you shitting me right now? Not even your old stoic and emotionally distant self would have been unable to detect my feelings.” Stiles wanted to scream all his thoughts so Derek would finally know, to run back inside to pretend this never happened, to shake Derek because he couldn’t actually be this clueless. He swiftly looked down at his hands. Ten. This was happening.
“Stiles, please tell me why you are so upset. I am seriously starting to get worried.” Derek Fucking Hale was worried about him. His life was officially more dramatic than a soap opera.
“I am upset because you are being nice and considerate and sweet and thoughtful and that makes me want to marry you, because I had a crush on you forever, like the first time you slammed me into a wall, well that was probably just horny teenager hormones, but at least since the night in the pool it was more than just physical. And since then you have only become more attractive like from the outside and from the inside because you now show that you care and you are so nice and sincere and you want everybody to be happy. Even though out of all of us you deserve it the most but you’re always content with getting the least amount of anything and -”
There were tears again in his eyes and his voice was starting to get raspy. “you’ve been through so much shit and I just want to build you a pillow forte where you can be safe and content instead of having to deal with supernatural bullshit. I get that I am loud and fidgety and annoying and not really anybody’s dream person when it comes to a relationship, but I would do and change anything to be together with you. But you should be together with someone who is genuine and who really loves you, so I would only fulfil one part of that equation and you really deserve somebody who fulfils both. Part of me will always hate that person because it isn’t me, nevertheless you would be happy and that would make everything else worth it.” He could feel the tears escaping from his eyes and now his voice was cracking. Really going for gold on the pathetic scale.
“Stiles breath. Calm down.” Derek finally stepped closer. There was still too much empty space, for it to seem like an outright overjoyed response but at least he hadn’t run away screaming jet.
“Please don’t be weirded out, I swear this isn’t like a weird idolised version of you, I get that you are not perfect but I really love you anyway, 100% sure there is nothing you could say that would shock me into not loving you. And anyway what I wanted to say is that I am upset because I have a crush on you and isn’t going anywhere and you being nice makes it worse because that only gives me hope and -”
“Stiles” Derek didn’t sound confused anymore, he sounded mildly irritated and bemused. “How much did you drink?” Stiles looked up at that and Derek was smiling. Was he for fucking real. Stiles was laying his emotions bare and Derek was finding it funny. This was worse than anything he had come up with. Derek rejecting him sure, but him outright finding the idea of Stiles as a romantic partner laughable, seemed worse than facing an alpha pack.
“Are you laughing at me?” Anger, yes he could work with anger, better than a panic attack or just crying. “I get that I am not ideal but I don’t deserve this. And you don’t get to decide my emotions for me. Even if I had some drinks I feel what I feel, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but laughing about a person’s feelings is horrible, I never thought you would do that.”
“No Stiles, it is just that -” Derek was trying to get closer and look sincere but Stiles saw how close he was to cracking up. A sparkle in those damn beautiful eyes.
“No leave me! I don’t care just leave me alone. At least give me the dignity to wallow in my self-pity, about everything that happened, alone.” He felt the edge of a chair against his legs and sat down. Closing his eyes and resting his head against his hands. Maybe witches would suddenly appear and erase every memory about what happened tonight or one of Deatons books would actually be helpful for once.
“Stiles, I really don’t think you should be -” he could feel Derek getting closer, who now sounded sincere and worried. His mind was screaming to run away and stay at the same time.
“Go.” It was more of a whispered plea instead of the forceful command Stiles aimed for. But at least it did the trick, because he could hear Dereks retreating footsteps and the opening of the balcony door.
Tears started running down his face once more and he felt his shoulder shaking with sobs. Maybe he should leave for some time get distance between him and Derek, he doubted it would end his feelings for the other but maybe he could find someone else, who liked him back.
An Arm was draped across his back and he was pulled into a familiar side hug.
“Hey, I don’t now what’s going on but everything is fine. We are all alive and well and tomorrow will be another boring day with the rest of us. If you just want to cry that’s fine, I’ll stay with you and we can talk later.” He had never felt more thankful for Scott than now. So, he held onto his best friend and just let everything out.
His head was killing him. Why wouldn’t the sweet kiss of death just stop the pain already. He tried to open an eye but everything was bright and the light seemed too loud for his headache. He groaned but that only opened a whole new world of unpleasant feelings. His throat and lips were dry like the Australian outback and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Also, his eyes just generally felt tender. What did he do last night?
Well he could either go back to sleep or start to collect clues about where he was and what had happened last night. While the first option was superior in most ways, years of being kidnapped and fighting evil had conditioned the need to know what was happening around him. Even though until now no kidnapper had ever bothered with a soft mattress, pillow, or blanket.
Step one, open eyes. Considering the previous encounter with light, Stiles opted for slowly turning on his stomach, doing his best to avoid any fast or abrupt movements with his head. When he finally finished, he put his hands on the bed trying to enclose the space between the bed and his head. He slowly blinked in the now dark space and slowly let more light in to adjust. It still wasn’t great but at least it didn’t feel like someone was repeatedly butchering a lobotomy on him.
Step two, where was he. Given that the pillow directly in front of him had the same obnoxious Batman cover as his own and the rug on the ground was the same as the one next to his own bed, his own apartment seemed to be a safe bet when it came to his current location. Slowly looking up he also saw a full glass of water and painkillers laying on the side table next to him.
“To any deity responsible for this thank you.” He slowly sat up, wondering if the painkillers were worth the pain of moving his head. At least there hadn’t been any feelings of nausea so far. He swallowed both pills and drank the whole glass because now everything about this pointed towards a hangover and hangovers meant dehydration.
Step three, figuring out what happened. He knew that there had been a pack thing last night and he apparently got really drunk. He also woke up alone, which was weird considering most of his friends were overprotective werewolfs, who had a hard time getting drunk and never got hangovers. Maybe somebody was nearby and could fill in any holes and more water also sounded like a good idea. He sighed and mad his way towards the kitchen.
Walking past the living room he saw that someone had slept on the couch and he could hear the coffeemaker in the kitchen. The promise of fresh coffee and answers pushed him forward and he walked into the kitchen looked up and stopped.
Derek was standing in front of the coffeemaker only wearing pj pants, looking at Stile like he had expected him. Which he probably had, because werewolf hearing.
“Stiles, how are you feeling?” He looked a little worried and unsure which was weird and also too complicated for now.
“Considering, I get to see you shirtless and fresh coffee, better.” He tried to smile without grimacing to much because his brain was still insisting on reminding him of his hangover.
“So, last night, that is all okay now?” Derek still seemed worried and he also didn’t move, instead looking at Stiles intently.
“Last night?”
“Yes, last night. Erica and Boyds 10-year anniversary, what happened between us and our …. talk.” Shit, right last night they had been over at the McCall-Yukimura’s, but …
“I thought you couldn’t make it. Wait, what happened? What talk are you talking about?” That didn’t sound good. Slowly starting to remember yesterday, he had the suspicion that he had once again forgotten to actually eat anything before drinking. And since there had been mixed stuff for the wolves that tended to hit him harder than regular stuff, Stiles could nearly hear alarm bells going off in his head, joining the ongoing headache.
“Oh god, what did I do last night? Was I really annoying? Did I snore? Is that why you slept on the couch? Please don’t say I made you so mad that you left.” He felt his thoughts becoming clearer and looking down he realised it was because Derek was holding his hand and taking away his pain.
“Are you telling me, you don’t remember anything from last night?” Derek leaned in slowly, trailing his other hand up until it was cupping Stiles cheek.
“No?”
“You don’t remember being angry about me betraying you at Mario Kart?” Stiles shook his head.
“Me following you upstairs and outside to talk.” Any trace of worry had left Dereks face and he was smiling now, Radiating happiness, which was even more confusing since memory loss did not tend to be connected to happiness given their track record, especially when it was Stiles missing memories. But the clear joy on Dereks face also made him look even more enthralling than usual and managed to calm him his mind about the lack of memories from last night.
“You were really distraught about me betraying you …” Suddenly, just like hearing the first lines from a loved song after not listening to it in years, most of it came back, including all related emotions.
He fell forward, burying his head in Dereks shoulder. Who seemed to be enjoying Stiles torment over his stupid past self.
“Please tell me it didn’t happen”
“The part where you forgot our relationship, or when you insisted I deserved somebody perfect or when you decided to tell me that you had a crush on me since the pool incident.”
“Please stop.”
“Aww, are you embarrassed about your crush on me?” Stiles wished that there was even a slight chance that he got out of the kitchen and into bed before Derek could catch him. Then he could roll himself in a blanket and ignore real life. Maybe live out the rest of his days as a blanket burrito.
“Derek that is ridiculous, of course not.”
“I can hear you lie and you're getting red, you know.” Stiles groaned, he had a hangover he didn’t deserve this.
“We’re married Derek. Pretty sure I am not embarrassed about having had a crush on you.”
“Sure.” He could practically see Dereks sarcastic smile without pulling away from the chest his face was buried in. The fake sincere look in his eyes that usually accompanying this tone of his voice.
“You know what, changed my mind. You don’t deserve me.” Stiles turned towards the coffeemaker and filled the cup that was standing there. Instead of letting go Derek just continued holding on to him, hugging him from behind, pressing tickling tiny kisses onto his shoulder.
“I am awesome and so totally in love that even blackout drunk I felt the need to tell you that, so there.” Derek quietly laughed kissed his neck one last time and sadly moved away towards the stove, presumably to start breakfast because he was awesome like that.
“Wait, if that’s all that happened, why did you sleep on the couch. Did I snore?”
“You always snore.”
“No, I don’t and if that's not it then what was the reason, because you usually turn into protective wolf mode when I am that drunk. And while it is adorable and sweet, it tends to be overbearing, meaning you not letting me leave you sight.” Stiles took a sip from his cup watching Derek cutting vegetables for an scrambled eggs.
“I am not that bad -” Stiles made a disagreeing noise which earned him an overly dramatic offended look from Derek, “and you said that you didn’t want me around and while I wanted to give you your own space, nobody could stay over and I didn’t want you all alone during the night and after waking up, so I slept on the couch.”
Derek explained everything calmly while pouring first oil that the beaten egss into the pan. This was too much too early. The sudden burst of happiness, love and serenity, that followed the admission and the picture of Derek carefree making breakfast half naked in their kitchen while humming ‘You are my sunshine’, was too much and he felt tears gathering in his eyes.
“You think you’re fit enough to get everything on the table for breakfast?” Derek looked up, and swiftly took the pan off to the stove, when he saw the tears threating to fall. He walked towards Stiles holding him gently by the shoulders looking searchingly up and down. “Stiles? What’s wrong?”
“Drunk me was right. I don’t deserve you.” Dereks concern turned into amusement. He softly kissed Stiles and turned back towards the pan.
“No both of you are wrong. We deserve each other.”