Stiles had always assumed Derek knew, the real Derek, older Derek, not de-aged Derek, he figured he probably reeked of desire and arousal and God knew what else whenever the werewolf was around. Apparently, Derek didn't constantly sniff out chemosignals, at least older Derek didn't.
De-aged Derek had happened three months ago and when Kate found out the Triskele didn't actually harbor any type of magic she'd vanished, young Derek had been to devastated relearning the loss of his family to actually be concerned with her. Nobody had any idea what to do when Derek didn't turn back, Deaton scoured his books but whatever Kate had done wasn't coming up, currently he was in Indonesia meeting with contacts who may have heard something about the situation. At first, the teens figured Derek would stay in his loft but when Stiles dad had heard, he refused to allow that.
"He's a child," he'd grumbled to himself one evening as Stiles, young Derek, and Scott sat in the living room after having just explained. Derek had no memories, by every count, he was sixteen. "No sixteen year old is living alone, not in my town."
With the sheriff being one of a small handful who knew about the supernatural he'd taken it upon himself to hold responsibility for the teen. Stiles had snickered for hours at the face young Derek made when John had told him he'd gotten him into school a couple weeks later. Derek was staying in the guest room in the Stilinski's and since he didn't turn back, John said it was a good opportunity to finish up school. After the first day, young Derek had pinned Stiles to his back and threatened to gnaw on him if Stiles didn't stop laughing. Derek had virtually been stalked by half the girls and poor Danny drooled and offered to help Stiles with his homework later, or any illegal activities if it meant seeing Derek again. Stiles didn't really want a redo of the incident in his jeep a year ago, so he respectfully told Danny he wasn't looking for anything right now.
After a month young Derek was adapting okay, he was hurting obviously and was quieter, like his older self but he went to school, joined basketball and played games with Stiles most days. The domestic feel really didn't help Stiles pathetic crush though, not to tie in that he was now the older one of the two and that was just...yeah.
Scott came over regularly, along with Derek's betas who were really freaking out that their alpha wasn't an alpha right now. Erica would watch him from the corner of her eyes, a longing deeply imbedded in her, Boyd became oddly closer to him, having joined the basketball team at the same time. Isaac and Derek started roughhousing, Scott looked almost hurt because for a time everyone thought Isaac would become Scott's beta but instead he was closer to Derek now.
It was sometime between months two and three when Scott asked him about it, Stiles didn't tell anyone about his crush, most of his friends were werewolves or some other supernatural so he hadn't thought he needed too. Honestly, he just thought he had the greatest friends because no one called him out on it. Alas no, apparently he wasn't so painfully obvious until recently.
"So you and Derek, is it because he's younger now or?"
Stiles had wanted to crawl under a rock or make practically anyone else his new best friend in that moment.
"No Scott," Stiles sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. For a nice moment, it was silent and Stiles had thought that was the end of it but no, his best friend decided then that he was going to catch on to just about everything.
"Oh," he started, eyes going wide. "Oh, Stiles, I didn't- Man, I'm- Stiles-"
"Don't Scott," he breathed, waving him off. "I'm fine, no big deal. I didn't tell anyone."
"I didn't even know you liked guy- Okay, this explains so much of that stuff with Danny last year."
Scott's shoulders drooped and he was giving Stiles the most innocent smile he could muster and then spent the next hour hounding him but Stiles hadn't wanted to talk and then Derek got back from practice and that was it. Derek didn't mention anything, didn't mention the way Stiles leaned a little closer when they were on the couch together or the way he would wait most days for him after practice to drive him home. He didn't bring up how happy Stiles had to smell whenever Derek smiled at him, or how aroused he'd get when Derek just HAD to make the most obscene noises as he ate. Honestly, he wondered if the werewolf did it on purpose after awhile. He thought Derek didn't notice or just didn't know how to put a stop to it or was torturing him, whichever.
And then, three months into having de-aged Derek, they found themselves home alone for the night. John had been called in after a spree of car thefts left the station baffled and short staffed since it had been mostly deputies personal cars. Stiles was impressed by whoever it was, a good prank he thought. Scott was home with his mother, upset over Allison moving to France, her dad had decided it'd be safer somewhere Kate couldn't easily find them, Isaac was trying to be a supportive friend but Stiles suspected that he was upset too. Derek's other betas were home with their families this evening. It was calm, they played games and ate but Stiles felt a pang in his chest, it wasn't new, it'd been there a few weeks now. It started first with his normal longing, he knew he loved Derek, he accepted it but it hurt because he thought Derek could never feel the same. Somewhere in the middle of that it struck him, the man he loved was someone completely different now and since he hadn't changed yet, it was possible he might not ever. Stiles heart had broke, he liked young Derek, could still feel all the crazy things he felt but it didn't take away that Derek still wasn't exactly who he had been.
"What's wrong," young Derek asked suddenly.
"What," Stiles had stuttered and turned to look at him. Derek had an eyebrow raised and the controller dangling in one hand, Stiles brain clicked and he looked at the TV, his character was dead, probably long passed.
"You zoned out."
"Yeah, I-" Stiles stopped breathing, Derek's intensely beautiful eyes were looking at him, waiting, hopeful that Stiles would talk. Stiles ached.
"Hey," Derek called, moving closer, the controller forgotten as his fell to the floor. Stiles took in a sharp breath when Derek's hand touched his, everything was confusing, surreal. "What is it?"
Stiles thought how different this Derek was, how different the Derek he knew would be if life hadn't decided to fuck him up in every way it could think of. Young Derek had a habit of checking on people, talking to them even though he was quiet in his pain, Stiles father had told him that Derek was likely good at it because he'd had sisters, not because he had werewolf abilities, though at least those told him who was lying.
"Nothing," Stiles rushed out and Derek tilted his head, it was obviously not true. He didn't blame the older version of the werewolf for how he acted, honestly if life and just ripped him apart the way it did, why wouldn't he decide fuck everyone and everything? "Derek, I-"
Nothing could ever be simple in a world full of supernatural.
Stiles eyes widen and he barely contained his gasp when Derek had pressed in close and kissed him. Derek Hale, or young Derek Hale but was actually supposed to be normal Derek Hale but didn't have any memories and whose body was sixteen, was kissing him. Kissing him! Stiles brain short circuited for probably ten minutes as he kissed back, Derek's lips were soft, undemanding. Stiles could get lost but then Derek's tongue grazed his lower lip and his brain reconnected and he threw himself away, his lower back colliding with the arm of his couch.
"Stiles," Derek said and moved forward, pressing his warm palms against the exposed skin of Stiles sides where his shirt had shifted up and then the pain ebbed away. "Did I do something wrong?"
He looked guilty, hurt, afraid, and God if Stiles hadn't hated that look before, he really hated it on the younger, more innocent looking Derek.
"No, Derek I-" I'm in love with the older you and I miss him? I love you but this feels wrong? What if you never turn back? What if I fall more in love and you do turn back? "You didn't do anything wrong."
"You smell like guilt, Stiles."
"I really like you," Derek sighed, his hands still resting on Stiles sides. They'd shifted so he was almost on his back, Derek leaning over him and he couldn't help looking up into his eyes, the unreal kaleidoscope. "I don't know why older me ignored it."
"Ignored what," Stiles questioned and then Derek leaned forward, pressed his nose into the crook of his neck.
"The way you smell all the time, whenever you're close to me, it's all I can think about."
His lips graze up his neck, to his ear and back down where he nibbles at Stiles jaw and....fuck, he had an argument right? There was a reason he wasn't supposed to be doing something?
"Stiles," Derek's voice is husky, boarding on the deeper timber Stiles had fallen for and...oh right.
"Derek," Stiles puts his hands on his shoulders, pushes softly. "I can't, you wouldn't do this if everything was normal."
"Yes I would," he argues and Stiles chuckles.
"You could barely tolerate me."
"I think that's bullshit," he grumbles, leans in and kisses Stiles neck. "You smell like you taste."
And whelp, Stiles may be technically older right now but he's still a teenager and that goes straight to his dick which twitches and he can feel Derek smirk against his skin. He doesn't wanna stop, he wants Derek to keep kissing him, keep running his hands up under his shirt but the voice at the back of his head keeps saying Derek, older Derek, wouldn't want this. Wouldn't want him.
"I um," Stiles racks his brain. Words, coherent words, what were those again? Fuck, Stiles is trying to hold it together but then Derek's tongue darts out and Stiles stops breathing.
"I really want you," Derek pants against Stiles collarbone and as if to drive that statement home he ruts his hips forward and yep, that's his dick, hard and at attention the same as Stiles'. He thinks for a minute about how it would feel to put his mouth on Derek but his thoughts tumble over to how many people used Derek and he's about to push him back but then Derek's kissing down his bare chest....and wait, where did his shirt go? His brain stops again when Derek kisses his hip then the other and all he can think about is Derek's mouth and the way he'd feel and...
"Wait," he huffs and sits up, "Derek please, I- You have no idea how hard it is saying no to you."
Derek's eyes lock with his, searching and Stiles feels that ache in his chest and then Derek sits back, eyes still on him.
"You really don't want to do this?"
Stiles dick will probably protest by removing itself from his body and leaving but he sighs, wraps his arms around his legs. "I want to, so bad, that's my problem."
"You don't think older me wants you at all?"
He's dreamt of it, fantasized about him wanting Stiles but he scratches the back of his head. "I don't know," he says honestly.
"Don't we ever hang out like this, don't I ever just seem like," he waves his hands around between them and Stiles smiles.
"You weren't my biggest fan when we met and I think we've become friends since then but you were so wrapped up in your own stuff, I couldn't even imagine it when you were around."
"But you did when I wasn't," he smirks. Teenage Derek is a cocky little asshole and Stiles kind of wishes that side of him hadn't been wiped away.
"Shut up," he sighs and tosses one of the throw pillows at him.
"I really like you, I just, I don't see why older me wouldn't."
Because Kate is a monster who took everything from you, because Jennifer was a literal monster who puppeteered you, because your uncle even used you. Because the first werewolf you tried to latch onto after losing what you thought was your last family member betrayed you and that's my best friend. Stiles can think of a hundred reasons why older Derek was so broken he wouldn't even consider him, but he doesn't say any of it out loud.
"Stiles," Derek has moved closer again, there's that look that he gets when Stiles catches him staring, which makes sense now and he's an idiot. Stiles really wants him, wants this and can't help the way he moves forward and kisses Derek this time, chasing the taste that was already fading. His lips tingle and he's breaking, he knows he is and it isn't fair because they'll wake up from this and Derek won't want to look at him and Stiles heart will crumble.
None of these thoughts stop him from climbing into Derek's lap, resting his arms on his shoulders and tangling his hands into Derek's hair. Derek's hands don't waste a moment, find Stiles hips and hold him as he cants upwards, his intent clear. Stiles bites his lip, pulls a little and Derek moans and it's the only sound Stiles wants to hear for the rest of his life.
He's sure he mumbles about how they shouldn't do this, how they'll regret it, that the packs will smell them and know. He's also sure Derek growls, says he doesn't care and that he wants them to smell he and Stiles. Derek's lips part, his tongue testing the boundary and glides over Stiles mouth and fuck, Stiles hadn't kissed anyone this way before.
Derek finds the button of Stiles jeans and there's a half second pause where he isn't sure and Stiles is to gone now to want to care. He draws back, tugging at the hem of Derek's shirt and the wolf quirks the corner of his mouth and lifts his arms. Stiles admires him, the way he's built now, he's seen older Derek without a shirt, practically naked and held him close enough to feel the ridges of his body but younger Derek is softer, less hard, defined muscle. He wants to taste every inch of his skin. Stiles mouth finds his collarbone and Derek leans his head back against the couch as Stiles makes every attempt to leave a mark that doesn't fade. He moves downwards but when he reaches Derek's waist band the werewolf stops him.
"Stiles I've never," he pants, holding Stiles gaze now and the human waits, wants him to talk, to tell him if he wants to stop. "I mean, I guess older me has but me, this me... I mean me and Paige we-"
Stiles thinks it's a buzz kill to mention her when Stiles is literally seconds from putting his dick in his mouth but he doesn't stop him.
"I've never had sex with a guy."
"Me either," he admits and Derek looks almost...fond.
"I really want to."
Derek pulls him up, flips him so he's hovering over Stiles again and he smirks and nips Stiles side, licks carefully over his nipple and well.... Stiles is on board for that. When Derek starts to suck, his hand trails lower, palm presses flat against Stiles erection and it's too much and far from enough and he rolls his hips up and feels Derek smirk against his chest. Several long moments pass that way, Derek barely cupping him and basically attacking his chest, if the purple marks are anything to go by but then Derek's hand moves and easily slides beneath his unbuttoned waistband and..
"Derek," Stiles moans when he grips him, jerks him slowly a couple of times.
"Can I taste you," Derek whispers against Stiles ear and fuck if he doesn't want to come right then. He nods a little to enthusiastically, Derek chuckles before releasing him and sliding down, pulling Stiles pants and boxers with him.
Derek is being agonizingly slow, Stiles knows damn well how fast he can move and yet he's between his legs, kissing his inner thighs, panting against his hips, barely letting his lower lip graze the head of Stiles cock. He moans, head falling back and then there's heat, wet, hot, heat wrapping around his dick and he can't help the indescribable noise he makes. Derek flattens his tongue against the underside, sucks until his cheeks hollow and Stiles hisses until Derek's head bobs down, the wetness gliding so deliciously against him. The first time he'd had sex it was good, it was great but this, Derek's fucking mouth gliding so perfectly over his cock is the greatest sensation he's felt his whole life. The world be damned, they were never leaving this spot and never putting clothes on again. After a minute he realizes Derek is bobbing up and down and Stiles is panting his name over and over and over until he practically begs Derek to stop.
"What," Derek asks, looking up. He's obscene, like out of a porn as spit and precome dribble down his mouth and slides down Stiles balls, his cheeks are flush, his mouth red from the strain of staying open and working Stiles up.
"I'm gonna come if you don't stop and I don't," he huffs, pushing himself up on his elbows. "I don't want it over yet."
Derek grins, licks a long, tantalizing stripe up Stiles dick and climbs back up and kisses him. Stiles doesn't know how he manages to overpower a werewolf but he pushes up and gets Derek into a sitting position before he's diving lower. Derek doesn't hesitate and lifts his hips to help Stiles get his pants and boxers off and then Stiles kisses his chest, his abs, nips playfully at his hip. He never really considered how a dick would taste but it's really just skin, the precome is sort of bitter, bland even but Stiles would do this all day if he could, especially when it draws out the rough moan from the back Derek's throat.
"Fuck Stiles," he groans when Stiles manages to take him deeper. It's short lived though because after a minute Derek is tugging him up and kissing him hard, pushing Stiles back down into the couch and taking a turn to sit in his lap. He looks nervous now and Stiles can't actually remember a time he'd ever seen Derek look nervous, he grips his hips, catches his eyes and tugs him forward until Derek understands and kisses him again. For awhile they just kiss and stroke each other, it's soft and easy, lazy and Stiles has no doubt he could come like this but apparently Derek has other plans because he lifts up on his knees more and aligns Stiles dick with his hole. Stiles is young but he isn't fucking stupid, okay? He's every aware that the most important thing about anal sex, after consent, is the lube and he quickly stops Derek.
"Wait," he says through a breath, "I don't have any-"
"I know but I'm a werewolf, I heal almost instantly."
"It'll hurt," Stiles argues, brows drawing together. He doesn't want to hurt him, not even a little bit, he loves Derek, every version it seems.
"It's okay," Derek smiles, kisses him and leans in to whisper. "I really want you inside me."
Stiles is pretty sure his brain melts but he, somehow, convinces Derek to test it out first. Derek sucks two of Stiles fingers into his mouth, licks at them, runs his tongue up in between them, gets them all spit shiny and then Stiles is slowly circling his hole. He can feel the heat, the tight muscle as he presses the first finger in and Derek's eyes close as he let's himself be fingered open, he wastes no time and tells Stiles to do the other. Derek's panting after a few moments and Stiles feels on top of the world with the noise he's able to draw out of him, the wrecked look on his face and finally when the werewolf looks at him he sees his pupils blown wide and almost consuming his irises.
"God Derek," he groans, presses in deeper. "You're so fucking beautiful."
Derek presses his mouth to Stiles again, lifting until Stiles fingers are pulled out of him and then he's moving fast, faster then Stiles brain can keep up and he just sinks onto Stiles cock and the human is sure if even one of them breathes he'll come. Derek is tight, hot, just a little wet and Stiles doesn't see any pained look when Derek draws back, sinking lower. Stiles moans, head falling back and before he's able to comprehend this Derek is moving, slowly riding him.
"Stiles," Derek groans when he's finally taken all of his cock. "You feel so fucking good."
The pleasure is too much and Stiles really doesn't want to talk now so he let's his hands rest at Derek's sides and watches the way Derek moves on top of him, slow rolls of his hips that are trying to find just the right angle. Stiles only true coherent thought is that he is inside Derek Hale, Derek is on top of him, writhing and panting and mumbling his name. Derek's head falls back, Adams apple bobbing, lips parted and Stiles can just see his bunny teeth as he gasps.
"C'mere," Stiles manages to get out as he wraps a hand behind Derek's head and tugs him down to him. Kissing him while they're connected is consuming but the whimper that comes from Derek's throat makes Stiles ache in the best way. His hips cant upwards and he knows he did something right because Derek's head falls back again and his dick twitches between them, Stiles bites his own lip a little to hard before carefully gripping Derek and stroking him.
"Fuck," the werewolf cries and drops his head to Stiles shoulder. "I'm gonna come," he whimpers and that's really all Stiles needs so he keeps jerking Derek off while giving shallow thrusts upwards. When Derek comes, he's panting, hot breath coasting over Stiles bare, sweaty skin and then he's limp, peppering kisses along Stiles neck. They end up moving carefully so Derek's lying on his back with Stiles hovering over him, he's able to push deeper and the sensation makes his toes curl. Derek keeps whispering his name, nearly begging him to come, saying how much he wants to be filled up and Stiles loses it, comes with Derek's name tumbling over his tongue. Afterwards he shifts over and Derek pushes in close, his forehead pressed to Stiles' and the human can't stop smiling, knows he probably looks ridiculous.
"I've definitely wanted to do that a long time," Derek grins and Stiles can't help but laugh.
"So shoving me into walls and doors and steering wheels, that was what? Foreplay?"
Stiles only shakes his head, knows the guilt will surface later but right now he's here, with Derek, both of them satiated and happy and that's okay for now. They drift off after Stiles wiggles them under a blanket and sets an alarm so they're decent before his dad gets home. They're both sleepy in the morning and barely manage a shower together before going to their own rooms, he hears his dad arrive just before he drifts back off.
When Stiles wakes in the afternoon it's to his phone buzzing with text messages, he doesn't look at them immediately and drags himself up to dress and make food. His dad is still asleep but it turns out Derek is nowhere to be found, Stiles doesn't panic, he just makes their lunch and fixes his dad a plate for later. Of course, he probably should have worried because young Derek didn't have a habit of disappearing like that and it was Saturday so there wasn't school.
He should have checked his phone, he thinks now but when he does, his heart feels something akin to breaking.
Scott says Derek is back to himself, his older self, and he's packing to leave with Braedon to hunt Kate. Or he was packing this morning to leave, Scott sent quite a few messages asking where Stiles was because he'd assumed he'd wanted to say goodbye. A message a couple hours later says that apparently Derek doesn't remember the last few months, it's just blank in his head. The following message says Derek is thankful Stiles and his dad let him stay and he's sorry for any trouble teenage him caused. The last message from Scott says Derek has left, he didn't mention returning, didn't leave any information. It was an hour ago.
Stiles feels the blood drain from his body.
"Afternoon son," the sheriff says as he strolls into the kitchen, he's in old college sweats and a beat up old t-shirt, Stiles misses mornings seeing his dad so relaxed.
"Derek's gone," Stiles says, more to himself.
"I know," John nods and reaches for the coffee pot, his back turned to the teenager, oblivious to the breakdown he's on the verge of. "Completely threw me when he called and it was his older voice," he laughs.
"What did he want," Stiles tries hard not to feel hopeful.
"To say thank you, offer to pay for any expenses, something about he knows he probably ate our entire kitchen," John chuckles.
"Did," Stiles shutters, afraid to ask. "Did he say anything else?"
"No," John's says, turns around and sees the dejected look on his sons face, his brows furrow. "Was he supposed to?"
"No," Stiles answers quickly and gets to his feet. "I'm still beat, there's a plate in the fridge for you."
He doesn't mention he didn't eat, doesn't mention how in love he feels, that he had the smallest hope that de-aged Derek was right and older Derek had wanted him and just didn't act on it. He doesn't mention all the guilt swarming him, overfilling him because Derek doesn't remember, Stiles basically used him and he doesn't know how to tell him. Or if he'll ever get the chance, he sort of hopes so because Derek will probably kill him and at least then it won't hurt as badly as it is right now.
His room is to hot, to empty when he walks in, he slides beneath the blankets, the sheets, the pillows and wills himself not to cry, to just sleep. He knew better, he tells himself and a few tears fall before he's able to drift off, the universe is kind enough to not plague him with dreams. When he wakes, his alarm clock reads 2:15 and it's dark out, he shivers and then notices his window is cracked. He makes quick work to shut it and goes rushing out to check the thermostat, there's a note on the fridge from his dad, he brought Subway home but didn't want to wake him, he's working all night again. Stiles sighs, tries to get through half the sandwich before giving up and climbing back up the stairs.
It's there on his nightstand, next to his phone and there's no note, he doesn't have a text but he knows, he just knows the key is for the loft. He smiles, maybe Derek remembers something.
He doesn't go to the loft right away but when he does, Derek's clothes are still there, the alarm is still set up, Stiles has no doubt this means he'll come back but he doesn't know if he remembers, until he sees the note stuck to the delivery menu beside the fridge and that makes him feel a little certain.
You're beautiful too.
Stiles figures Derek could have ripped his throat out when he was asleep so he texts him and tells him he doesn't have to respond but he has to know, at least so he's aware that some will be devastated if he does anything to reckless. He tells Derek he loves him. There's no response but he's okay with that, knows Derek has to do this, has to stop Kate and then, just maybe, he can come home.
Derek tells him he loves him too, a year later, after Kate was put down, he walked into his loft where Stiles regularly hung around making sure everything was clean and where it should be. Derek had smelled him all over everything, making his eyes flash and Stiles joked, about the way younger him wanted so badly to smell like him. Derek said it and then he'd kissed him, whispering sorry's for leaving, sorry's for disappearing, telling Stiles how much he'd wanted him but how much he couldn't let himself. He said I love you until they'd collapsed in the bed together, that night there was lube and it was slow and Stiles now got why Derek had whimpered the way he had that day.
Derek wouldn't let Stiles shower right away, or well, he asked him not to and when he asked, Derek admitted he wanted Stiles to smell like him too. Apparently when Derek first turned back, his memories were gone but he'd easily smelled Stiles all over him and the memories returned a few hours later. The human might have apologized, confessed to how bad he felt and the werewolf might have smirked and said his younger self had been right.
The walls and doors and steering wheel were all foreplay.
Stiles might have shoved him and told him he wasn't gonna fuck him anymore, Derek might have growled, dragged him under him and said it was okay, because he could fuck him all day. Stiles dick definitely happily twitched at the idea and Derek, all cocky and self absorbed looking, smirked and then kissed Stiles stupid.