(+5 years, 6 months) Derek isn't entirely happy when he moves back to Beacon Hills after college and gets an apartment with Scott and Isaac. He still loves Derek to pieces and spends most nights at the loft, but still isn't quite ready to take the step of moving in together just yet despite having talked about it for years.
"Look, don't get mad but..." Stiles starts, resting his hand gently between Derek's shoulder blades as though that will placate him. He knows it's a pretty pointless gesture; Derek already seems to know that he's about to give him some bad news if the scowl on his face is any indication.
"You're going to move in with Scott and Isaac, aren't you?" Derek finishes for him, wedging his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders in resignation. Stiles pulls a face; he'd wanted to break the whole moving in with his friends thing gently to Derek, but obviously someone (his money's on Scott) has already told Derek their plans. And he definitely should have had this conversation before he went to the realtor's place to sign the lease with the others. And wow, he feels like the shittiest boyfriend in the world right now.
"Yeah," Stiles sighs, moving closer and trying to pull Derek's hand free from his pocket. "But it's not because I don't want to live with you! You know that."
"You just want to live with your friends more." Derek shakes Stiles' hand off his arm and gets to his feet. "I'll see you later."
"What? You're leaving? Why?"
Derek shrugs, keeping his back to Stiles; "I want to leave, OK? I'll...I'll call you later, tomorrow maybe."
"Derek," Stiles murmurs, getting off the bed and slipping his arms around Derek's waist when he refuses to turn around. "Don't go, not like this."
"I'll call you." Derek repeats as he disentangles himself from Stiles' hug and disappears out of the room. Stiles retreats to his bed, sitting down in shock as he listens to Derek walking slowly down the stairs and bidding John goodbye. He's not entirely sure what just happened, but it feels like the closest they've ever come to breaking up and he doesn't like it one bit.
. o o o .
Derek doesn't call. Stiles has spent four days being sad about that and now he's reached the point of being angry instead and has decided that he won't call Derek until he calls him first and apologises for running away like a giant baby.
He's busy sulking around the den in his pyjamas when there's a knock at the front door and he absolutely doesn't nearly wipe out on the hardwood floor of the hall in his hurry to answer it. When he does manage to get the door open, it's entirely the wrong werewolf standing on the front porch. The one he wants to see wouldn't have a demon child in tow.
"Boyd?"
"Can I come in?" Boyd asks, shifting Callie on his hip as she narrows her eyes at Stiles and snarls. Stiles has no idea how Erica and Boyd are going to be able to enrol her at pre-school next year when she's constantly wolfing out at everyone. That's the sort of thing Derek knows all about. Maybe he'll ask him, if he ever gets done being mad.
"That depends," Stiles replies, keeping one hand on the doorknob as he watches Callie nervously. "Is your child going to try and bite me again?"
Boyd just sighs, pushing his way past Stiles and into the house; Callie snaps at him alarmingly, forcing him to stumble backwards to avoid her.
"Did Derek send you?" Stiles asks as he watches Boyd make himself comfortable in the den. "Is he incapable of apologising like an adult now?"
"No, he didn't send me. He doesn't even know I'm here," Boyd shrugs, watching Callie as she slides off the couch and heads for the bookshelves. "And Derek's not the one that should be apologising."
"Well I haven't done anything wrong," Stiles replies testily as he throws himself down onto his dad's recliner. "So he can forget about getting an apology from me."
"You realise you've been telling us all since junior year of high school that you want to live with Derek? What was it you said to me and Lydia at her graduation party? The minute you get out of college you're going to move in to his place whether he likes it or not?"
"Yeah, but..."
"And now you're pissed off that he's upset that you're not doing that? Funny, I always thought you were smart."
"Shut up," Stiles grumbles, folding his arms and staring out of the window. Boyd has no business turning up here and telling him exactly what he already knows.
"Not until you apologise to him," Boyd replies calmly. "I'm not saying move in with him if you don't want to, but at least tell him you're sorry for being a moron."
"I'm not being..." Stile starts, looking back over at Boyd before sighing hugely. "Look, please don't ever repeat this to him, but I'm terrified, OK? Of moving in with him. Because it's different to when I just stay at his place for a few days in a row. He gets to have time away from all my...me-ness. If we're living together, it's all Stiles, all the time."
"And?"
"And what if...what if he decides he doesn't want all Stiles, all the time? That he preferred some Stiles, some of the time? Dude, do you realise how much that would suck?"
"Because not speaking to each other is obviously so much better," Boyd replies with a smirk. "You're really want to stay in a fight with him because you're too scared to tell him that you're scared?"
"Of course I don't want to stay in a fight with him," Stiles snaps at Boyd, earning him an answering protective growl from Callie. "I hate being in a fight. I fucking miss him and his stupid broody face."
"So call him and tell him that. Then maybe he'll stop hanging out at our place and watching re-runs of How Do I Look with Erica."
"He's got a Jeannie Mai thing," Stiles sighs fondly as he reluctantly pulls his phone from his pocket; he's not going to admit to Boyd that he's completely jealous that Derek is apparently watching How Do I Look with Erica. That's supposed to be their thing, not Derek and Erica's thing.
"Call. Him." Boyd repeats, getting up and scooping Callie up off the floor. "If only so I get to watch my own TV at some point in the future."
"But what..."
"I'm done talking about this," Boyd says, cutting him off. "You can thank me later."
Stiles pouts but follows him out into the hall nonetheless and dials Derek's cell as he watches Boyd strapping Callie into the front seat of his truck.
. o o o .
Derek shows up twenty six minutes after he calls him, an anxious look on his face as he follows Stiles up to his bedroom. Stiles grudgingly admits to Derek that he's terrified of moving in with him in case it makes Derek change his mind about wanting to be with him. Derek, predictably, calls him an idiot before pushing him back down on the bed and kissing him hungrily.
"It's only for a year," Stiles murmurs, carding his hand through Derek's hair sometime later. "And I'll still stay over at your place all the time."
Derek doesn't reply, but pulls away from Stiles' embrace slightly so he can lean over him and concentrate on the very important task of kissing and mouthing his way along Stiles' collarbone.
"Like, we could have schedule," Stiles continues, arching his back slightly when Derek bites his shoulder. "I could stay at your place three days out of the week and at our apartment the other four. You know, so you don't get too much of me and get sick of me."
"Not going to get sick of you," Derek mumbles against his neck, pausing from where he's been sucking a hickey just below Stiles' jaw line. He reluctantly pulls away from Stiles' neck and props himself up on his elbow so he can look at him. "I want you there all the time."
"But I'm annoying..."
"Mm," Derek concedes, cupping his jaw and kissing him. "But I still love you."
Stiles bites hard at Derek's bottom lip for that remark and within minutes, they're tangled up in the sheets, fighting to remove each other's clothes as quickly as possible.
"Seven days," Stiles gasps as Derek tugs off his pyjama pants and tosses them across the room.
"What?"
"Since we last had sex," Stiles explains. "Seven days."
"Hurry up then," Derek huffs, leaning over so he can grab the lube from Stiles' bedside table and throwing it at him before rolling onto his front. Stiles frowns at him for a second and then slaps him hard on the ass.
"Turn over, idiot," he tells Derek when he lifts his head and scowls over his shoulder at him. "I want to see you."
Derek does as he's told, spreading his legs wide enough for Stiles to be able to kneel between them. He preps Derek as quickly as possible, trying to strike the right balance between not hurting him and needing to be inside of him right now. Derek moans and arches his back as Stiles roughly fucks him with his fingers, wincing slightly when Stiles gets too impatient and pulls them out, only to hurriedly replace them with his cock. It's rough and hard, and Stiles is only aware that he's muttering out apologies for being an idiot when Derek laughs at him and drags him down into a desperate kiss before he's coming all over his own stomach and Stiles' hand. Stiles follows suit a few minutes later, peppering Derek's face with kisses as he pulls out.
"I get scared too," Derek tells him quietly, hours later in the warm darkness of Stiles' bedroom. "That you'll get sick of me, get bored of me."
"Why would I get bored of you?" Stiles asks, sighing against Derek's shoulder as he shuffles closer. It's the same tired discussion they've been having for years; he knows that deep down, Derek's still waiting for the day when Stiles' attention wanders and he wanders along with it.
"Because you get bored of things and people," Derek shrugs, wrapping his arm around Stiles' shoulders and hugging him tightly. "And I don't want to be one of the things you get bored of."
"Not going to," Stiles murmurs, sliding his hand around the back of Derek's neck so he can pull him into a kiss. "Ever. I promise."
"So you'll move in with me when your lease is up?"
"Mm-hmm," Stiles is more interested in continuing to kiss Derek than he is in talking about leases and moving in dates.
"Stiles..." Derek apparently needs more reassurance than that and pulls away from Stiles' kiss to look at him."Will you?"
"Yes," Stiles breathes, grabbing at Derek and dragging him close again. "I promise."
Derek makes a contented little humming noise against his lips before sliding his hand up into Stiles' hair and tugging on it gently.
"Just think of it this way," Stiles continues, moaning quietly as Derek bites at his bottom lip. "Lots of new places to have sex."
"Mmm."
"We can do it in the lounge and freak Scott out."
Derek laughs softly, running his hand down Stiles' side and curling his fingers loosely around his cock so he can jack him slowly. Stiles sort of forgets what point he's trying to make at this point and before long, he's pushing inside of Derek again. It's the complete opposite from earlier that day; slow and sweet as Derek straddles him, lowering his head to whisper earnestly in Stiles' ear about how much he loves him. Stiles is very, very into this kind of sex; mostly because he knows how much Derek likes it and he's digging his fingernails into Derek's back to stop him from pulling away. Not that Derek's going anywhere, clearly very content to be rocking slowly on Stiles' cock; Stiles curls his toes into the comforter and digs his nails harder into Derek's back, begging him to go faster. Derek ignores him, despite all of his muttered curses about how close he is, choosing instead to nip at Stiles' earlobe. When Stiles does finally come with a loud grunt of surprise, it's devastating and feels almost like it hurts. He flops backwards, banging his head on the headboard in the process as he watches wide eyed as Derek begins to stroke his own dick hurriedly, running his free hand across Stiles' chest. Stiles can feel Derek's muscles clenching around his softening cock as he finally comes, hot and sticky on Stiles' chest.
The moment's ruined somewhat by his dad knocking none too gently on the door and telling them to keep the noise down as it's four in the morning and he needs to leave for work in three hours time.
Stiles' laughs happily to himself as Derek looks panic stricken and nearly falls off the bed in his hurry to find his underwear, as though John is about to burst through the door to enforce quiet time. He looks down at the mess on his chest, rubbing Derek's come into his skin as he murmurs about how grumpy shift working parents won't be an issue when he's living with Scott and Isaac.
"Scott'll be worse than your dad," Derek grumbles as he rolls onto his side, grabbing hold of Stiles' arm and dragging him close until his back is flush with Stiles' chest. "I'm not sure I want to listen to Scott bitch every time we have sex."
"Guess I'll have to come to your place for sex then," Stiles laughs quietly.
"Should have moved in there instead then," Derek huffs in reply, dragging Stiles' hand upwards so he can kiss the back of it.
Stiles just laughs again and gently bites at the back of Derek's neck until he stops complaining and falls asleep.
. o o o .
Scott immediately declares their new lounge a 'sex free zone'; Allison is two months in to her six month trip to Europe with Lydia, and apparently if Scott can't have sex in the lounge, no one else can either. There are several pointed looks at Stiles during this discussion and many hand gestures to demonstrate specifically that no sex is to be had on the couch. Isaac breaks Scott's rule within four days of them all living there before promptly disappearing to Derek's place before the girl wakes up, leaving Scott and Stiles to make excuses (and in Scott's case, waffles) for her until she leaves. Isaac's running away from one night stands aside, living with the pair of them turns out to be great fun, even if the rest of the pack does tell them repeatedly that they're all behaving like college freshmen again.
Stiles tells everyone and anyone who'll listen that living with Scott and Isaac is awesome and amazing and the best fun ever, until his dad points out that only he spends two days a week on average at their apartment and that whenever anyone wants to get hold of him, he's invariably at Derek's loft.
Turns out, Isaac likes watching How Do I Look re-runs too, much to Scott's displeasure. He tries to declare the lounge a "no watching How Do I Look" zone as well, but fails spectacularly and goes to sulk in his room whenever they watch it.