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It’s nothing specific that sets him off, no real mood or danger or any of the things that you see in romantic comedies. He’s just sitting in the living room of Derek’s new apartment (because he’s starting to approach something human and not quite so Neanderthal, even if he does still lurk). The pack has been coming and going all day, scenting the place and helping Derek move in. Stiles came with a batch of his world-famous lasagna and super-secret bumbleberry crisp, while Allison brought salad and garlic bread to round the meal off. Everyone had eaten and laughed and talked and Stiles was just waiting for his dishes to finish going through the dishwasher before he could go home.
It's just Derek and him left now, and they're watching a show about nature, or something, because according to Derek it was his house, his TV, his rules. Stiles isn’t really sure. He’s kind of drowsy in that food-coma sort of way, and Derek is warm next to him, and he’s happy. So he just leans over and kisses him.
Derek leaping away isn’t quite the intended reaction, but Stiles can roll with it.
“Ok, so, maybe I was off base but…I’m pretty sure we’ve basically been dating for the last two weeks and I kind of figured it was time for a kiss. If I’m correct in this assumption, and with you knowing it’s totally very 100% consensual, will you come back here so I can kiss you again?”
Growling is, once again, not the intended reaction. “You’re sixteen.”
Oh. Age. The age thing. Stiles can roll with that too, because age is just a number and it’s especially bullshit in their situation. “Turning seventeen in a few months. And seventeen is almost eighteen.”
“Sixteen is barely passed fifteen.” And damnit, why did Stiles always have to fall for smart people who could use his logic against him?
“Fair enough.” Especially considering Stiles’ dad had arrested Derek once. Or twice. And it may or may not have been Stiles’ fault once, or both, times. Hesitation made sense. “But as long as we don’t have sex, which yeah, would suck, it’d be okay. Dating is fine. Age of consent only applies to sex, not to kissing and other such romantic things.” He tried to give Derek a reassuring smile as he took a step forward, felt himself blushing slightly. “I like you. I’m pretty sure you like me. So…”
“You’re sixteen. Sixteen year olds are fickle and hormone-ridden and can’t be trusted with decisions like this.”
“Okay, that’s assholish.”
“That’s life. I’m twenty-two, Stiles. Which is almost twenty-three. Which is almost twenty-four,” he said, biting out the final number. “I’m too old for you. You’re too easily influenced.”
Which was just more bullshit because, other than food, Stiles wasn’t that easy to influence. At all. He was, in fact, kind of the opposite and liked being a bit contrary. But Stiles was also very smart, and he’d learned how to read between the lines a long time ago, and it had been a couple weeks since he first put together what had happened with Kate ‘the bitch’ Argent.
So yeah. Ok. That made sense. Sighing he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Okay, Derek. We won’t date, but I have one request,” he added, looking up at the alpha. “One kiss. Just…you didn’t get me a Christmas present, and I do really like you. So just…can I have one kiss? As a present? And then I won’t bring it up again.”
He stands there for a long time, watching Derek, and he’s starting to think maybe he actually was wrong about the mutual-crush. Maybe he's crossed the line from bad timing but loveable guy into creepy nice guy. But then Derek sighs and takes a step forward, reaching up to curl a hand around the back of his neck. The kiss is the definition of chaste, closed mouth and slow and it makes Stiles’ heart skip a beat or two, maybe three.
When it’s over he lets out a breath and licks his lips and then sits back down. “There’s got to be something better on,” he says, stealing the remote and that’s that.
***
Stiles invites Jennifer DiYanni to the spring formal and she says yes. It’s not the best date ever because she really only said yes since he’s kind of popular-by-proxy now. Not really popular, but close enough to Jackson and Danny that sometimes people get confused. Which is weird, and disconcerting. He tries not to think about it too much. At least it gets him some attention of the good variety.
They go on a few dates afterwards but it doesn’t really go anywhere. Stiles just shrugs it off when the pack sends their sympathies. “Things are fleeting when you’re our age. He says to the group of exceptions. Seriously, what are our lives?”
***
Tal Jenkins is the definition of androgynous, and the definition of bossy. Stiles adores ze. They date for pretty much the entirety of the summer, and Tal’s the first person Stiles ever does anything with. And they do everything. Everything. No, seriously, it’s great.
He still spends a ton of time with the pack, and Tal is frequently busy taking sculpting and photography classes at the local college. It works, for them, and Stiles goes to his first protest with ze. He comes home with a busted lip, but he’s also got some impressive hickies, so he calls it a win-win.
It lasts until a week before school starts and Tal has to fly back to her fancy-pants liberal arts school across the state. Ze comes home at Christmas and they spend a week sneaking around together and Tal gives him a bunch of books on gender rights. Stiles just kisses ze and promises to read them all.
***
Andrew happens near the end of senior year.
Stiles goes to Derek for help cleaning his busted knuckles, shaken but otherwise fine. He promises him that he dealt with the situation, and Derek tells him he’s going to scare the shithead to within an inch of his life anyways. They never mention Andrew again.
***
Allie shows up during Stiles’ first week of University. She’s smart and nerdy and incredibly sweet. They spend nearly a month dancing around each other before going on their first date. Scott and Stiles spend nearly a month being dumbasses about the fact that ‘Scott and Stiles’ are dating ‘Allison and Allie’.
Its three months into dating Allie that Stiles meets Carrie. Carrie is sassy and rambunctious and he can’t help thinking Derek found the perfect girlfriend. They go on a few double dates, and a few dates that turn into group dates with the pack showing up in their little pairings. It’s kind of nice, except for the part where Allie is intimidated by Carrie, but that’s to be expected because Carrie is seriously intense.
Things end between her and Derek near the end of July, two month after Stiles and Allie move into their apartment together. He comes over and rough houses with Stiles and orders him around and Stiles tells him to fuck off. They’re complete assholes to each other and Stiles kind of loves it because that’s his pack, that’s his family. When Derek goes home at the end of the night Allie says ‘Good Riddance’.
Stiles is just glad so many students are looking to rent rooms when Allie moves out a week and a half later.
***
Simon and Eva are a surprise. It starts as a drunken one night stand when he’s nineteen and his roommates invite him into their bedroom. Within a month he pretty much uses his room as a closet, and they’ve figured out exactly the best way to curl up together at night.
Simon is a poli sci major and a lot of the best sex they have comes out of arguments about current trends in world politics, even though they’re usually both on the same side and they’re arguing against people who aren’t there. He’s got this spot below his left ear that always makes him shiver, and Stiles is always ducking down to nuzzle it because he’s about two inches taller than his boyfriend.
Eva is studying social work and gender studies and Stiles loves pressing kisses against her freckles (because Eva is a walking freckle) while they talk about women’s rights. She’s got the most beautiful giggle he’s ever heard, and he and Simon take turns tickling their girlfriend until she squeals.
The first few dinners with his dad are awkward as hell, but Eva charms him with homemade hamburgers and kisses on the cheek, while Simon converses with him about local laws and puts his barista skills to good work. Eventually the Sheriff just laughs and tells Stiles he always knew he’d end up with someone unexpected, or two someone’s, and makes plans to have Sunday brunches with them.
Breaking up with Simon and Eva is probably the most painful break-up Stiles has experienced, and that’s including the time he busted his knuckles. They’ve been together for nearly two years and Stiles still loves them both, but they’re not really in love anymore. He spends a week miserably not-sleeping in his own bed before Eva drags him back into their room.
It takes a while, but they adjust back to being a couple and their best friend, although they do curl up together at the end of bad days, and ignore most social etiquette, and sometimes Eva kisses both of her boys goodbye.
***
Fourth year consists of Jeremy, Melinda, and Serena. Each relationship is memorable only for its brevity. Jeremy introduces Stiles to his cardigan-with-elbow-patch kink. Melinda teaches him how to make German apple pancakes at 3 in the morning. Serena is…well, Serena is all kinds of flexible. None last more than a month or two, and Simon and Eva mercilessly judge each one, even though Simon steals Melinda’s cookbook one afternoon and photocopies the whole thing.
He’s one month shy of graduating, three months shy of his 22nd birthday, when Derek flops down on his couch and starts bitching about the pack being dumbasses. Eva brings him a hot chocolate with so many marshmallows in it that Stiles isn’t convinced there’s actually a beverage under them all. It earns her one of the rare Hale smiles because Eva has everyone wrapped around her finger, and is a complete sweetheart about it. It's kind of ridiculously disgusting, but Stiles wisely keeps his mouth shut because he's just as whipped. She kisses Derek on the cheek, promises him she’s going to weasel the true story about their group of friends out of them one day, but not today because she’s got an essay to write. It's a repeart statement. Eva can’t see it, but Stiles knows Derek, and his alpha is seriously starting to consider letting the two humans in on the secret. He hopes it happens.
“I think I’m stuck with Eva and Simon now. They’re like that little piece of wrap off the CD case that just won’t stop sticking to you no matter what until you scream and flail a lot.”
Derek just chuckles his weird half-chuckle and shifts to make room for Stiles. “You could’ve chosen worse.”
“Yeah, I know. There’s a prime example of that sitting next to me,” he says, laughing when Derek growls and throws a half-melted marshmallow at his face. Stiles just catches it, and pops it in his mouth. “That was really gross, by the way, just in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” but he’s still smiling-but-not and looking more relaxed than when he arrived, which makes sense. Derek probably spends more time at their apartment than he does at his own, and Stiles still hasn’t gotten Simon to ‘fess up about when, exactly, he gave Derek a key to their place. So Stiles just rolls his eyes and turns on the TV and settles in next to his alpha for some quality lets-ignore-reality bonding time.
He’s just gotten back from flipping over a load of laundry and Derek is laying on his side on the couch with a blanket pulled over him, eyes glued to the bad sci-fi movie that’s on. Stiles rolls his eyes at his friends taste in movies and goes to put away their leftover pizza from two hours ago. “You know, I’m almost twenty-two.”
“I am aware. Now shut up.”
“Twenty-two is a lot like twenty-three. Which is almost twenty-four,” he says, pouring himself a glass of water. “And you’re twenty-eight, which is a lot like twenty-seven, which is a lot like twenty-six. So it’s kind of like there’s only two years between us.”
“Stiles…,” Derek says, a slight warning that doesn’t feel very sincere in his voice. He’s peering over the back of the couch, watching as Stiles comes over and puts his glass on the coffee table.
“I know I said I wouldn’t bring it up again, but it’s been six years. That’s got to be some kind of record for me to keep my mouth shut about something. Especially something I want.”
Derek is watching him with his back still pressed against the back of the couch, keeps watching as Stiles sits on the edge in front of him.
“I figure if I’ve been in love with you for the better part of six years, it’s safe to say it isn’t me being fickle. And I’ve clearly put thought into it if it’s been rolling around in my head that long, because this is me,” he says, carefully starting to lay down next to the werewolf.
“You’re infuriating,” Derek says, but it kind of sounds like a compliment.
Stiles shrugs, carefully rests a hand on Derek’s side. “You’ve already got a key to my apartment. And Eva and Simon love you.”
“Stiles,” Derek says, wrapping an arm around him to pull him closer, “if you don’t shut up and let me finish my movie, I’m going to rip your arm off.” He emphasizes the threat by shifting so Stiles’ head is resting under his chin, their fronts pressed together.
“Switching things up, I like it,” he says, chuckling when Derek growls.
He lets Derek shift them again, smiles wider when his wolf presses their foreheads together. “I love you, you know I do, but honest to God if you don’t let me finish this movie I’m going to make you wait another six years.”
And then he kisses him, and it’s slow and closed-mouth and his lips feels exactly the same way they did the last time they kissed, and Stiles loves it. Because this time, this time it feels open-ended, like a book that hasn’t been finished yet, and as he tucks his head back under Derek’s chin he starts to make plans to find a second dresser for their bedroom.