Work Header

No Explanation Needed

Chapter Text

Never in his life has Stiles received flowers. Because nobody has ever had a reason to send Stiles flowers. Stiles is okay with that.

So when he sees the flowers standing on the kitchen table, he is confused. It’s not the anniversary of his mother’s death or anything like that. They don’t look like the flowers people send other people for sad occasions either. The flowers are bright red and pretty big. The word beautiful springs to his mind. Stiles ruffles through the bouquet, until his fingers slip around a note. He pulls it out to look at it. It only states the printed word Stiles, leaving no doubt that the flowers are meant for him.

“What the fuck,” he says, out loud.

“Language,” his dad mutters, walking in, going straight for the coffee machine. Stiles just keeps blinking at the flowers. When his dad turns around, hot coffee in hand, he finally notices the flowers and the note. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Secret admirer? Where did those come from?”, a chuckle present in his voice.

Not the time to laugh, dad, Stiles thinks in his confusion.

“I don’t even know!” he exclaims, rubbing his neck. His dad starts sniggering. “Dad, don’t laugh at my confusion!”

His dad, still smirking, replies, “Sorry son, but I just can’t begin to imagine why someone would send you a bouquet of flowers.” Stiles frowns at him.

“I am very desirable. There are tons of people who would send me flowers.” The Sheriff doesn’t look very impressed. “Whatever. You know a lot about plants, can you tell me what kind of flowers these are?”

Sheriff Stilinski smiles and sips some of his coffee. Stiles tries to glare him into answering his question, apparently successful, because he sets the coffee on the table and replies: “They’re hibiscuses. The meaning is ‘delicate beauty’. Guess someone thinks you’re delicately beautiful, kiddo.”


So Stiles asks around. None of his friends admit to sending it as a joke. Stiles tries to get Scott into helping him find the sender, since someone has broken into his house to get the flowers there, but Scott just brushes it off. “So your admirer really wanted you to find the flowers without knowing your identity, so what? It’s not like they stole anything. If they want you to know their identity, they’ll have you find it out soon enough,” he says over the phone when Stiles calls him about it for the fourth time.

“Thanks for being so helpful,” Stiles comments before hanging up. He pulls up Google on his laptop, and goes to the wiki page for the flower, his head tilting as he reads it. He freezes when his eyes land on the Symbolism section.

‘The red hibiscus is the flower of the Hindu goddess Kali, and appears frequently in depictions of her in the art of Bengal, India, often with the goddess and the flower merging in form. The hibiscus is used as an offering to goddess Kali and Lord Ganesha in Hindu worship.’

The stuff with the Alpha werewolves and the druid happened months ago – Stiles doesn’t like thinking about it, but at least, most of them made it out alive and they’re not under a direct threat anymore now. The Alphas and the Beacon Hills pack decided on a truce to beat Ms Blake together and everything worked out sort of well in the end. With some threatening from Chris Argent, the Alpha pack agreed on moving onto another area, although they still keep in contact with Scott sometimes, to see if he changed his mind about joining their pack yet.

Kali, the attractive but scary Alpha, had never shown any particular interest in Stiles, at least not that he knows of. Could there be any reason for her to send him flowers now? Is this a joke? Or some kind of trick? Running his hand through his hair, he decides against calling up Scott again. Instead, he taps the contact named Derek in his phone. He hesitates for a moment – he and Derek have become sort-of friends in the past few months, sometimes they even have text conversations for no reason, so he guesses it would only be logical to call him. The crazy Alphas might have returned, maybe the flowers were a warning? The wiki page said nothing about the flower meaning delicate beauty. Stiles presses the call button.

While the phone’s ringing, he gets nervous. He has no idea how he’s going to explain Derek that he got random flowers. Before he can think of a way to bring it, Derek picks up.


“You know, most people say hello when they pick up a phone,” Stiles retorts helpfully. He swears he can hear Derek repress a groan.

“Stiles, what do you want?” Derek demands. Someone’s grumpy, Stiles thinks.

“Um, I received… flowers. They were in my house a few days ago. In the morning. On the kitchen table.”


“My dad didn’t let anyone in and the bouquet didn’t come via the mail either, so somebody must have broken into my house to leave them here.”

“Isn’t your dad the Sheriff? Shouldn’t he be dealing with this?”

“But look, I googled the flowers, and, I quote, the red hibiscus is the flower of the Hindu goddess Kali –”

But Derek interrupts him before Stiles could start on his theories. “Someone delivered hibiscuses to your house?”

“Yes, but –”

“You’re kidding me,” Derek says, but it doesn’t sound like he’s talking to Stiles, more like he’s saying it in general. “Oh no, you stay here – no, you’re not going to –” That’s definitely not meant for Stiles; his voice turned away from the phone, like he’s talking to someone in the room. Then Derek hangs up. Stiles lowers his phone and frowns at it. He’s contemplating calling again, but apparently Derek was arguing with someone. He’ll wait till he calls back or maybe call him later.

Scott has texted him twice while he was on the phone with Derek.

Are u pissed off at me? Its just that we have nothing to go on like where do we even start with finding out who likes u. if it was serious then theyll let u know who they are soon enough if it was a joke then they *want* u to worry about it a lot so i suggest u should let it go

Then, the second one, Dont hate me.

Stiles tugs on his ear and then sends Scott a text back, saying Wikipedia said this flower is the flower of the hindu goddess kali ????????????

The reply comes in fast. If ur worried its werewolf kali, u should know the alpha pack is in jersey rn according to derek

His eyebrows furrow. If Derek tracks the Alphas, then they would have no reason to choose Stiles as the one to hint they’re back. Jersey is also too far away from Beacon Hills to deliver flowers without getting noticed first. So it wasn’t Kali who gave him the flowers?

It seems like he’s stuck on a dead trail again.

He’s in the middle of typing a reply to Scott, when he sees movement in his peripheral vision at his window. He jumps up, but reacts too slowly, and before he knows it the window has opened and the shape – a human form at least, he notes – is moving quickly towards him. To his surprise, it stops right in front of him instead of attacking him. Then he sees he’s standing face-to-face with Peter Hale, said face only four inches away from his.

“Oh my god,” he sputters out. “What the hell?” Peter is standing with his hands on his (own) hips  and looks furious.

“You really thought it was Kali who sent you those flowers? Why would she even give you flowers?” Peter hisses through clenched teeth. Stiles takes a step back.

“I don’t know why anyone would send me flowers! I thought, maybe she gave me them as some sort of warning or something, like, hide your kids hide your wife, the Alphas are returning, but then Scott said they’re in Jersey and it would be illogical to deliver me the flowers, but –” Stiles stops babbling when Peter unclenches his teeth and a smile appears on his face instead, weirdly fond in some way. That just doesn’t make sense – why would Peter Hale be fond of him?

Peter takes a step forward again, and says in a low tone, “I love hearing you talk.”

Stiles eyes widen.

Peter continues, voice low, “Don’t you get it? I’m the one who delivered you those flowers. I told you before Stiles, I like you.”


Stiles, trying to take a step back again – oh shit he is nearly at the wall, no escape there – blurts, “But you’re like twenty years older than I am!”

Peter just grins, a hint of fang showing. “I like how you’re not saying ‘but you’re male!’ Age can be overlooked. Sexuality is a bit harder. You like men, don’t you, Stiles?” Stiles tries not to stare at his mouth. He likes to think of himself as open-minded, and has been thinking of himself as bisexual for some time now, but he had never thought of Peter Hale as hey, I would tap that. Now he knows it’s a possibility though, and now he’s crouched up at the wall with Peter too close in his personal space. His dick is thinking things, things he doesn’t want to let his brain think about, and now Peter is circling his hand around his wrist, and Peter is actually pretty sexy, and muscular, and male, and–

“No,” he says, and pulls away. He shoves at Peter’s chest, who, unsurprisingly, doesn’t step back. “I mean it. No. I don’t know why you think this is something that would happen” –he gestures with his hands towards down where Peter is trying to press his hips into Stiles’– “and you’re not only twenty years older, you’re also a murderer who killed his own niece” –at that, Peter does step back– “and you bit my best friend against his will, and you’ve fucked up Lydia’s mental health, and you killed innocent people, and –”

“Stop it,” Peter growls, now far away enough for Stiles to breathe comfortably again, “I can smell you. I can hear your heartbeat. Your body wants me, even if you think you don’t. You drive me crazy, Stiles – always talking too much, always fidgeting around…” Peter’s eyes dart to Stiles chest, where he had crossed his arms without noticing, and tapping his left hand on his other arm. Stiles stops his hand from moving and crosses his arms even tighter. Peter opens his mouth again, most likely to start going on about why Stiles drives him crazy, but then there’s another figure coming through his window. Peter spins around quickly, a little gasp leaving his mouth – he probably didn’t hear someone coming either, because he was so focused on me, Stiles realizes with a shock.

The person now standing in his room and being all growly is Derek Hale. Oh.

Derek is standing with his body tilted a little bit forward, his eyes glowing red in Alpha mode, not fully shifted but his claws are out and his bared teeth look a bit sharper. He is definitely growling at Peter, looking ready to attack.

He feels something like a weird déjà vu, his mind flashing back to when Peter and Derek fought in the hospital. His eyes dart to the door. He could escape. And pray they won’t fuck up his room in a way that his dad will notice.

“You,” Derek growls, stabbing with his finger in Peter’s chest, “are coming with me.” And just like that, he turns around, pulling Peter with him with a hand on his arm, Peter following him, shoulders slumped in submission but hands wringing in frustration. Like he doesn’t want to submit but has to. They disappear through Stiles’s window again.

“Okay then,” Stiles says to an empty room.


When his dad comes home, Stiles doesn’t tell him about it. Although the Sheriff knows about werewolves now, he would probably try to arrest Peter Hale for sexual assault. That would end badly for everyone.


School just ended and Stiles is at his car in the school parking lot. He would already be in the car – if it wasn’t for Cora Hale leaning against the driver’s door, thumbs tucked in her pockets.

“Um,” Stiles says.

“Hi,” Cora smiles.  

“Um,” Stiles repeats. Cora just keeps smiling. So Stiles tries, “Any explanation for this?”

That’s when Cora ruffles through her bag and pulls out a DVD. “You’re going to take me to your place and watch Pretty In Pink with me,” she says, her head kind of tilted downwards, looking at him through her eyelashes.

Stiles has the urge to say ‘um’ again, but instead goes for, “Why exactly?”

“Because I want to spend time with you,” Cora purrs, adding a nearly inaudible ‘duh’. She walks around the car and motions at him to unlock it. Astonished, Stiles unlocks the car and Cora opens the door to the passenger’s seat, stepping in elegantly. Confused, Stiles shrugs his shoulders and gets in too and drives home with Cora Hale sitting next to him.


The thing is, watching a movie with Cora isn’t even that weird. They’ve both seen the movie already, but it’s one of those movies you can watch a second time and still like it, so it’s okay.

At least, it’s okay, until they get into a discussion about the movie.

Of course she should choose Duckie!” Cora belted. “He is caring, funny, sweet, all that! And he doesn’t have asshole friends degrading her!”

Stiles is willing to admit this is not his first discussion about which boy Molly Ringwald’s character should’ve ended up with in this movie. However, his point of view hasn’t changed: she should’ve ended up with neither one of the boys. “I’m just saying – imagine the great plot twist if suddenly she runs away with Iona. Make it lesbian. Shock the people. At least, don’t pair her up with one of the boys, it’s so predictable.”

“Iona is about to marry! Jesus Christ,” Cora scoffs. “You don’t see the value of this movie! The predictability is the entire point of this movie! Everyone knows she should end up with Duckie and everyone knows that in the end she will end up with Blane. It’s a classic ‘80s movie. No lesbians allowed.” Then she stops ranting and closes her eyes. She looks like she’s trying to calm herself down, breathing in and out slowly, her hand gripping the armrest.

Stiles stares at her and feels the strange urge to reach out and touch her face.

Where did that come from?

Then it occurs to him how much this looks like a date: the two of them, all alone in his house, on the couch watching a movie. Did Cora Hale trick him into a date?

The suspicion that this is, in fact, a date, rises when Cora opens her eyes and does that weird head tilt thing again, that she did at his car, looking at him through her eyelashes and now smiling slightly. She picks up a strand of her own hair and plays with it while saying, “You know, you kinda remind me of Duckie.” Her voice sounds weirdly sweet.

Stiles isn’t ignorant. He’s been on the Internet, and he’s read some blogs. In fits of boredom, he has read flirting tips for girls. Cora is following all the highlights in the books. Being the natural ladies man he is, he stammers out awkwardly, “Oh, that– that’s cool. Um.” Then, remembering how conversations work, he adds, “Why?”

Cora’s small smile grows wider and he sees amusement in her eyes – she’s playing a game and enjoying it. Stiles doesn’t really understand the purpose of this game yet, though. “He’s sarcastic in a funny way. He tries his hardest to make Andie feel better. He has a crush on someone who he’s sure would never like him back. He’s awkward but in a way that makes me want to hug him. And he’s cute.” She ticks all the points off on her fingers. Stiles’ eyes widen a bit.

“I – Were those compliments?” he asks to be sure. She nods and bites her lip while she does it, looking even more amused. Stiles bites his lip too as he thinks over her third point. “How do you know about me and Lydia, though?” Cora’s smile falters, her head tilts back to a more natural position and her eyebrows wrinkle in confusion.

“You and Lydia?” she asks, her tone demanding an explanation.

“The unrequited crush? I’ve had a crush on Lydia for the longest time ever, although lately not as much anymore – I think…”

“No,” she says, just like that. “No. You don’t have a crush on Lydia anymore. Believe me. You can’t.”

“Um,” Stiles mumbles, again. “Are we on a date? This really looks like a date. Are you weirdly possessive? Are you gonna threaten Lydia? Because Peter has already done that a long time ago and he did this weird thing trying to woo me with flowers or something like two weeks ago, which you probably already know about because you don’t look surprised at hearing about it, and I don’t want you to attack Lydia –” He’s back to babbling again and only stops when Cora rolls her eyes and presses a finger to his lips to shut him up.

“I’m not going to kill Lydia. No, I was talking about your crush on Derek, dumbo,” she says. When Stiles’ mouth drops open and his eyebrows shoot up, a very amused twinkle becomes visible in her eyes. “Wow,” she smirks, “you really are dumb. You didn’t realize you had a crush on my big brother?”

“I do not –”  Stiles starts, a little helpless, then closes his mouth again and thinks for a moment. “Why would you even think I have a crush on Derek?”

Normal people would answer a question like this one with an explanation. Cora Hale is not a normal person. So she rolls her eyes again and then grabs Stiles’ face with both hands and kisses him.

And woah, okay, Stiles needs a moment to adjust his brain to the fact that an attractive werewolf girl is kissing him, but Cora pushes one of her hands in his hair and slides her other one from his face to behind his back and pulls him closer on the couch, and she is kissing forcefully, demanding, and she’s pushing her tongue inside his mouth, and woah

Stiles brain finally catches up with the situation, and he hesitates for a moment – push her  away or kiss back? Then he has a hand on Cora’s neck and the other one on her shoulder and he’s kissing back as good as he can. She makes a little sound at his response, but when Stiles tries to have their tongues battle for dominance, she doesn’t give in, she keeps leading the kiss whether Stiles wants to follow or not. Stiles opens his eyes for a moment and looks at her face, his lips still working against hers, and he thinks, she’s probably dominant during sex too.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the moment he realizes he doesn’t want to have sex with her.

Cora obviously thinks quite the opposite, her hand on his butt, when did that happen, and trying to press him closer, slipping a finger under his waistband. He breaks off the kiss, moves his head away, lets her shoulder and neck go.

Instead of looking hurt or offended that he stopped, she pulls back politely and smiles widely. “So, what do you think?” she beams. Her pupils are dilated, Stiles notes. He’s so confused.

“What I think of a hot female werewolf launching her face at mine after I asked her why she thinks I have a crush on her older brother?” Stiles asks, voice a little hoarse. He can’t really believe what just happened.

Female werewolf?” she says. “Oh my god, are you straight?” She smiles even wider, that toothy smile Derek has too.

“Why are you so happy with me being straight? What is it with you guys and my sexuality? I have so many unanswered questions,” Stiles groans.

“So you are straight? I can’t believe this!” Cora exclaims. Stiles looks at her desperately.

“I am not straight! But please, explanations!”

Cora’s happy expression falters a little at his revelation, but then she has that amused look she had when she was flirting with him back in her eyes. “Don’t worry too much,” she says. Then she’s standing up and bending down to press a kiss on his forehead. Stiles is distracted for a moment – there are boobs right there, in front of his face, and then he jumps up too while she’s walking to the door.

“No no no no – you’re not leaving! No way!” he yells, while she starts running through the door, laughing. He flails his arms around helplessly, knowing running after her would be fruitless. He hears her yell out a “Later, Stiles!” when she goes through the front door, and then he’s all alone in his living room. Pretty In Pink hasn’t even ended yet. He is confused as hell.


“Son, why do we have a Pretty In Pink DVD lying around here?” the Sheriff asks while Stiles is clearing the table after dinner.

“Um,” Stiles says, contemplating whether or not he is going to explain the Cora thing.


In the end, he didn’t, but somehow he came out to his dad as bisexual. He has no idea how that happened.


Now he established his sexuality to two members of the Hale family and his dad, he decides to text his friends about it.

Since ive been asked by three people in the last two weeks abt my sexuality, id like to make a PSA. Im bi guys

Congrats, Scott texts back. Most other replies are along the lines of ‘I knew it’ or ‘duh’.

Then, after 20 minutes of sending, there’s Derek’s reply. Okay.

He doesn’t know why he texted Derek about it.


He did some serious thinking after Cora kissed him.

He didn’t want sex with her, but it wasn’t because she’s a girl. The realization had hit him the moment he thought of her being dominant in bed – but that wasn’t it either.

Let’s be real, Stiles kind of really likes the idea of being submissive during sex, it’s one of the reasons he fell in love with Lyda. She’d be demanding, sure of herself, not afraid to go and get what she wants, Stiles always imagined. He felt that spark when Peter had him up against the wall for a split second. It was definitely a turn on during the kiss with Cora, too.

Cora, attractive Cora, confident Cora, also not afraid to get what she wants. So why didn’t Stiles want to jump her the moment their lips connected? Her toothy grin, just like Derek’s, and her eye rolls, kind of like Derek’s, her exasperated sighs when Stiles talks too much, just like Derek’s –

Stiles shakes his head and starts up his computer, to play some mindless game or watch some TV show or something.

Then he puts his hand against his forehead in the style of a perfect facepalm.

He has a crush on Derek Hale.


Scott doesn’t want to hear about it. Scott really doesn’t want to hear about it.

“But you could be a perfect wingman! Like, you could literally just ask ‘Hey, Stiles came out as bi, would you bang him’, and just listen to his heartbeat or something!” Stiles begs. Scott crosses his arms and sinks back into the couch from where they were playing Mario Kart when Stiles dropped the bomb called ‘I have a crush on Derek Hale’.

“I do not want to hear about it! Leave me out of this!” Scott cries. “Don’t make me listen to you talking about sex with Derek!”

“Oh, but I’m not talking about sex with him. Although I could. Damn, he would probably still be growly during sex–” Stiles starts, (mostly) as a joke to annoy Scott, and it works. Scott stands up.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and I’ll come back with chips and then I’ll beat your ass in this game and you will not say another word about Derek Hale,” he announces.

Stiles doesn’t mention Derek anymore that day.


While Stiles is writing down ideas to tell Derek about his crush, the doorbell rings. He was just crossing out ‘flower bouquet????’ after much contemplating. He gets up to the door, still thinking about what kind of songs he would theoretically put on a mixtape for Derek Hale. He’s not prepared at all when he opens the door.

Because there he is, standing in his doorway. Derek Hale. Oh.

He’s looking at the ground instead of looking him in the eye, and Stiles wants to ask him why he’s at his house, or ask him about Cora, or what happened after the last time he saw him, when he was pulling away Peter from him, but all that comes out is, “I have a crush on you.” His eyes widen in shock, and his hands fly to his mouth, as if he can pull the words back in, but it’s too late. Derek’s gaze shoots up and he looks surprised. Stiles feels like he’s going to start hyperventilating, and is about to throw the door in Derek’s face, but Derek blocks him with werewolf reflexes.

“I’ll invite myself in, then,” Derek says, dryly, and Stiles steps back, making room for Derek to walk in.

“Want some coffee?” Stiles offers, pretending he didn’t admit to having a crush on Derek, at the same time that Derek says, “I actually came here to–”

“What,” they say, at the same time. Neither make it sound like a question. Then Stiles asks, “What did you come here for?”

“Cora made me come here to retrieve her DVD,” Derek answers, looking straight at Stiles. “She said you probably would panic upon seeing her, after last time.” He’s still looking at Stiles, the younger boy fidgeting under his gaze. “She was laughing. I got concerned.” Derek finally breaks his stare and looks around a bit. Then, kind of awkwardly for a big growly werewolf, “So. Crush.” Stiles flusters.

“I didn’t actually mean to blurt it out like that – I was making plans on how to tell you and then you were at my door and then my brain-to-mouth filter broke and I just don’t know what the hell has been going on lately with your sister and uncle and this all started when Peter Hale, serial killer Peter Hale, delivered me flowers and then Cora wanted to watch a movie with me and then she started talking about you and then–” Stiles blurts out helplessly, only stopping when he realizes he doesn’t want to tell Derek about the kiss. Derek just kind of stands there and stares at him, half-grinning and leaning forward.

“Do you not realize?” Derek says, voice growling, the grin fading from his face. “Do you not realize how long I’ve been wanting you? You’re always there, and your scent – you make me want to claim you, leave my mark on you, and I can’t–”

“Why can’t you?” Stiles demands. They’re standing closer, he doesn’t know which one of them stepped forward. His heart is racing in his chest. “I would let you. I want you to.”

“You’re seventeen!” Derek yells out. “And my little sister–” He cuts himself off and looks at his feet, biting his lip.

“What? What is it with Cora?” Stiles asks. He startled a bit at Derek’s shout, but damn he needs answers now.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Derek mutters. Then, it seems like he’s heading for the door. But this time, Stiles sees it coming, and he stops him, blocking the door.

“Answers,” Stiles demands. Derek could easily push him away, and he’s really close to Derek right now, and oh god, this man just admitted to wanting him, and answers be damned, Stiles moves in and kisses Derek.

Derek responds by making a little, helpless noise. He puts his hands on Stiles’ chest, and for a moment it feels like he’s pushing him off, but then his hands are fisting in his shirt and he’s pushing him against the door.

For two seconds Stiles is comparing Derek’s kissing style to Cora’s – Derek seems more giving in instead of pushing, and he feels more desperate – but then he puts his mind to zero and just kisses Derek.

They kiss a little bit longer, he doesn’t know how long exactly, until Stiles pulls off, a little breathless. He rests his face on Derek’s chest. “I think we should have sex,” he murmurs into Derek’s shirt. Derek takes Stiles’ face in both hands and looks at him intently.

“I think we should wait,” he says, and then, “I have to go now.” And then he’s pushing Stiles out of the way and going out through the door they were just making out against.

For the third time, Stiles is alone and confused in his house after a Hale came all up in his personal space.


Next day, he wants to try again and decides no one’s going to escape, and he drives up to Derek’s loft. Naturally, Cora opens the door. Just his luck.

“Stiles! What a pleasant surprise to see you! I hope you brought my DVD, because somehow Derek forgot it when he went up to your house to fetch it!” she exclaims a bit too happily. Stiles is buying none of it.

“Cora, I need some answers, help me please,” he begs, because she’s a werewolf and begging things from a werewolf doesn’t count. Cora’s face changes and she looks serious for a moment, then she has that everlasting amused look again. She lets him in and sits him down and makes tea for him because she’s been watching Torchwood and she’s aspiring to be a teaboy, or so she says.


In short, she explained him the following:

She found out that Stiles would be the perfect match for him – she doesn’t have to hide the werewolf thing from him, and there’s no awkward pack dynamics that come with dating another werewolf or breaking up with a werewolf in your pack. Plus he has a great piece of ass, if she might add. But then she caught Derek staring at Stiles ‘in that weird fond way that just screams I want to tap that ass then make breakfast for the owner’. She teased Derek with his crush, he denied it, so she told him about her own crush on Stiles. It made Derek completely defensive and she was so sure he was going to ask Stiles to marry him or something – but apparently Peter heard them talking and declared that he fell in love with Stiles first. So Peter did the flowers thing and Derek got all paranoid because Peter was obviously way too old for Stiles, and what if Derek was too old too, and Derek decided to be his angsty self and told her that she should just go for Stiles. She was only teasing when she told Stiles he has a crush on Derek, but hadn’t expected Stiles to take it seriously. She realized that they weren’t meant to be and she wouldn’t have a perfect teenager romance. The kiss was mostly a ‘take what I can get’ thing. No harm meant. Sorry for touching your butt Stiles.

Stiles just nodded throughout it and when Cora was done, she pushed him out of the house again, saying he could return if he brought the DVD.

While she’s pushing him out, she says in a low tone, “Guess that I’m Duckie and Derek’s Blane in our story.”


Stiles was planning on returning with the DVD, and then he’d wait at the loft until Derek returns or something, but when he comes home he understands his plan was really unoriginal. Because, waiting on his living room couch, is Derek Hale.

“Did you break in?” Stiles asks incredulously. Derek shrugs.

“I think you deserve some explanations from me.”

“You know, my dad could’ve come home before I did.”

“I would’ve heard. But listen, about Cora–” Stiles cuts him off before he can even start.

“I just came back from your loft dude. I had a long, uncomfortable conversation with Cora. Or well, I listened to her monologue. I think you should know that I like you better than her, not because she isn’t great, but because you’re you. And Peter is creepy as hell and I don’t think you’re too old for me and I really hope we can work this out and I hope you know I actually want to date you, like, do couple stuff, not just have sex, although I really want sex too, which I hope is something you want too, and,” he takes a breath, “I’m rambling off again. I said what I wanted to say. Now stop looking so smug and fond and tell me things to make me feel less miserable about my life choices.”

Derek just pulls him in into a kiss and manages to keep smiling throughout it.


In the end Stiles ends up giddy and really happy about his life choices and a tiny bit of frustrated because Derek still insists on waiting.