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Kiss Me Like You Mean It

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The day has finally come, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Stiles hasn't seen Derek since last night. When he came down to breakfast, the first one in the Great Hall, only to find out the champions had already been whisked away by their respective headmaster from their rooms in preparation for the Third Task. Stiles stomach feels like a ball of lead. He didn't even have the chance to wish Derek good luck. He may be new at the whole dating thing but he's sure that's at the top of any list of things to do. It's a small comfort that Danny looks as lost as he feels. He really hit it off with that Durmstang Champion.

It's Scott that pulls him from his stupor and all but drags him to the spectators' stands where Allison is saving them front row seats in front of the grandstand podium to await the appearance of the champions. Stiles feels nauseous as the highlights of the final task are narrated by Professor Finstock, in all their gory details.

The Durmstang Champion appears first, disqualified after the first hour, putting him in third. Danny is at his side in an instant. The crowd claps politely but Stiles is focused on the fact that Derek's in a deadly maze facing unknown dangers with Kate Argent. The Beauxbatons Champion has made no allusions to hide her distaste for Derek or her malicious competitive streak during the tournament.

Stiles worries his bottom lip between his teeth in frustration as they enter the fifth hour of the tournament. A lot of First Years have already retreated to their respective common rooms to wait out the results.

Kate appears with a shrill shriek, her once fine golden tresses matted to her face as Professor Finstock finishes telling everyone she fell victim to a portable swamp. Stiles pays her little notice even when Allison rushes out to console her cousin who is not taking losing that gracefully. The crowd is on its feet with anticipation.

Stiles has almost bitten his lip ragged when Derek appears in the center of the grandstand podium with the Triwizard Cup in his left hand, swaying with exhaustion.

The crowd of spectators erupts into utter chaos, the banners turning to showcase the Hogwarts' crest and flag. To Stiles, the deafening sound of celebration fades to the back of his mind as he rush up the platform to reach Derek first. Derek's filthy, his robes covered in dirt and his face is scrapped up with blood and ash. Stiles nearly bowls Derek over in his haste to get to him. He takes Derek's face in his hands and Derek for once lets himself be manhandled and only winces when Stiles prods his shoulder.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Stiles asks, worrying his already abused lips between his teeth. His hands hover uncertainly over Derek's shoulders. Derek's eyes flash with an electric blue heat that has him closing those last few inches between them so he can kiss Stiles. Stiles' hands move up to cradle Derek's face, pulling him closer.

Derek tastes like cinnamon and heat, his tongue a wet rough glide against Stiles'. They've done this often enough now for it to not be so awkward, though it's still as strange as it is amazing. Stiles can't really wrap his head around the fact that he can do this whenever he wants. The crowd surrounding them is forgotten.

Derek pulls back, his mouth red and wet, his eyes crinkling in silent laughter. He thumbs the bottom edge of Stiles' lower lip. "Told you I'd win."

Stiles' jaw drops before he glares up at Derek. "Seriously? You're going to be cocky about almost dying?"

He's about to pull away when Derek's smile turns gleeful and his eyes dance with mirth. "You were worried."

"You're enjoying this!" Stiles squawks hitting Derek's shoulder in irritation because he's spent the last couple of hours agonizing about losing Derek before he even built up the courage to tell him he loved him.

Derek winces and Stiles is pushing back his jersey. "Oh my God, you're bleeding." His hands hover over the dark crimson ebbing through the uniform. "We need to get you to the infirm-"

"It can wait," says Derek, hooking his left arm around Stiles' shoulders, pulling Stiles flush to Derek's chest, their faces barely an inch apart. Stiles feels a rush of warmth in his chest and Derek's lips brush near Stiles' right ear. He can feel the tips turning bright red. "Now, let's get this nightmare over with, so I can have a proper celebration."

He pulls back from Stiles to face the crowd that's surrounding them. Derek lifts the Triwizard Cup in the air and the eruption of cheers is almost deafening.

Stiles quirks his lips and Derek's eyes follow them attentively. "This isn't enough?"

Derek's smile turns secretive and his eyes go faraway for a moment, like he knows something Stiles doesn't. "Not even close," grins Derek wolfishly before he leans down to captures Stiles' mouth with his. Stiles can feel the happy noise Derek makes rumble through his chest before Derek reluctantly pulls back.

"That should hold me," Derek grins and Stiles flushes with embarrassment when Derek turns fully towards the crowd, his arm wrapped possessively over Stiles' shoulders pulling Stiles' back to his chest, Triwizard Cup in is left hand held high.


It seems like it's been an eternity when Derek finally pulls Stiles to the top of the Astronomy Tower away from the party in Gryffindor Tower. Stiles has been at Derek's side since they left the Champions' podium to a far too brief trip to the infirmary, despite Derek's protests of being more than fine, and then the celebration feast where Derek kept Stiles' left hand thread through his own. It feels like coming home and the beginning of an adventure when Derek finally runs his fingers through Stiles' short hair, traces the long line of his neck, highlighting the blossoming bruise he left possessively on Stiles' throat with his teeth the night before Third Task and catches Stiles' bottom lip in a deep kiss that leaves Stiles feeling undone. It's good thing they're alone under the warm summer night's sky. Scott's even promised not to interrupt.

"Worth the wait?" Stiles manages to stutter out. His heart feels like its about to beat out of his chest. He's sure Derek can hear it. Derek's warm green eyes are heavy-lidded, full of desire and want, it has Stiles breathless when they flicker bright blue.

"You have no idea."