Stiles really had no idea what was going on anymore, all he knew was that Derek Hale was the single most frustrating, irritating, annoyingly attractive cock sucking asshole to ever walk the planet earth. He also knew that he ended up tangled in Derek's bed sheets more often than normal for someone you at least claim to hate.

Derek however, was fucking hot, and Stiles had a rule, as long as there was touching or kissing or something that was described as sexual. He could stay, as soon as all that was gone, so was he. No cuddles, no feelings, simple as that. If he didn't get to know Derek he couldn't fall in love with him and then the sex could continue. And hate sex rocked—granted it was the only kind of sex he had ever had, but still, it rocked.

So when Derek fell next to him, sweaty and exhausted, pulling Stiles out of his post- orgasmic haze he knew that he should leave, like, right away. He reminded himself that when Derek's hand rested lazily on his hip, face buried in the pillow beside him.

But this was nice, comfortable even. He wasn't going to fall in love with Derek if he rested for a little while and well, Derek wasn't moving. He didn't really seem to mind because this was purely sexual, Derek knew that. Not that they actually said it but they both knew. It had always been implied.

They would argue, Derek would slam him against a wall, arguing would turn to kissing, kissing would turn to fucking and when they were finished Derek would roll over, or go take a shower and Stiles would be gone by the time he was back. It was simple.

This was not simple; this could almost be considered cuddling. This broke his rule.

"Quick, kiss me before I forget that I hate you." He urged and Derek groaned sleepily at him in reply.

"Seriously dude" Stiles said flailing, "I need kisses." And he could swear Derek almost laughed when he sat up and threw a leg over Stiles, straddling his hips, ass grinding into his dick. If they hadn't already had rounds one, two AND three, he might have gotten excited. Instead he was focused on the fact that he wanted lips on his lips like… five minutes ago.

Except that Derek was being an ass and just sitting there looking gorgeous and sex ruffled and sleepy and there was a pang in Stiles' heart because yeah this guy was hot and he was an ass sometimes. But really he wasn't all that bad…

And it was with that thought that Stiles panicked because those were feelings and feeling had no place in this relation—whatever this was. Just sex, no feelings!

He reached his hands up frantically pulling Derek down to him, or at least trying to anyway because Derek and his "I'm stronger than you" muscles had to pin his arms above his head.

Stiles' heart did the thing again, because man his eyes were just—wow.

So he was lying there, naked, helpless, and all he could think about is how there was nowhere in the entire world he would rather be.

"Derek" he said uselessly wiggling against him, "would you just kiss me already."

Derek shorted—and Stiles was totally going to pretend it was a snort, not a really cute laugh that made Stiles' stomach do a back flip. Except that it was—really cute.

"bossy." Derek said, moving his face teasingly closer to Stiles'.

"Tease" Stiles huffed seconds before Derek kissed him, except it wasn't what he was expecting.

Kisses with Derek were harsh and demanding. More teeth than tongue, sharp bites and bruises sucked into his neck. They were hot; they served a purpose and got them both off.

This... this wasn't helping this was sweet; this was barely there lips ghosting Over Stiles before pressing in lightly. This was innocent, light nibbles at his bottom lip and a tongue tracing at the tips of his teeth until he remembered how to move and gave Derek access to his mouth. This—this made his heart ache and his body tingle warmly. This was nice; this made him feel—happy.

Problem was it made him feel, this broke every rule he ever made, this was not mutual orgasms. He couldn't go home and convince himself that he still hated Derek, but he was hot and this was much needed stress relief.

This kiss was the last piece of the fucked up puzzle that clued him into the fact that he was stupidly in love with Derek Hale, and that was not okay,

Stiles pulled away, breath catching in his throat, heart hammering in his chest. "I have to go." He said pressing his wrists against Derek's restraining arms. "Now" he prompted when Derek didn't move.

The confused look on Derek's features hurt him, which was why he had to go.

He couldn't fall in love with Derek Hale; he couldn't. Derek was an asshole; he slammed Stiles into walls, and made fun of him. Derek jumped in front of murderers and had a martyr complex the size of his cock, (which was huge, Stiles still had trouble walking sometimes.) Derek was angry, and surly, and all eyebrows. He made it abundantly clear that Stiles was not pack and Derek would never love Stiles back.

And that was just the short list of why loving Derek Hale could not happen. Ever.

So when Derek let him go he scampered off the bed, searching frantically for his clothing, dressing hastily before rushing out the door without another word and driving home.

He didn't talk to Derek for two weeks.

Not that Derek didn't try, he texted.

From Derek

Pack meeting

From Derek

Meet the loft?

From Derek

Have curly fries…

From Derek

Are you alive?

From Derek

Scott said you're okay.

From Derek

Call me?

Stiles knew what he wanted, Derek was sexually frustrated. Hell Stiles was too. You can't just go from getting laid on an almost daily basis to nothing without feeling the side effects. Stiles was sure Derek would find someone else to fuck though.

Derek called him a few times too (read as nine times)

He never left a voicemail and Stiles ignored the she-wolf ring tone as it echoed through his bedroom. He wasn't putting himself through this. Feelings were not part of the deal.

To be fair, Stiles really should have known it was coming. It wasn't the first time, which was why he shouldn't have been surprised to find Derek sitting on the foot of his bed, light purple tee shirt stretched too tight over his shoulders.

Asshole, he knew Stiles loved that shirt.

"No, no, no, nope, nope, nopity, nope, nope, nope, no!" he said throwing his bag on the floor and gesturing wildly at the window. "Out! You're breaking and entering into the sheriff's house!" he exclaimed frowning.

Derek snorted, "I'm also sleeping with his underage son, I'm already in danger of being locked up."

Stiles gaped at him, that was a – a joke. Derek made a joke. Nope this wasn't happening. "You need to leave… my dad-"

"Wont be home until midnight, its Wednesday Stiles." Derek interrupted.

Fuck.

Stiles frowned crossing his arms. "Fine, what you want?" he asked.

"You've been ignoring me." Derek said and Stiles could have sworn maybe for a second he sounded disappointed, but then he figured he was just projecting. "I want to know why."

Stiles' frown deepened. "I don't want to do this anymore." He said gesturing between them.

Derek nodded, "and you chose to just ignore it, rather than breaking up with me to my face?"

Stiles huffed, "I couldn't break up with you Derek! We weren't in a relationship to begin with!" Stiles exclaimed, heart pounding out of his chest.

"And whose fault is that?" Derek almost yelled, "I tried Stiles, I tried to be in an actual relationship with you, and you—you made it abundantly clear that you weren't interested. That you were there for sex, and I put up with it. I didn't complain and that night I thought maybe—"he frowned, "you know what, you're right, this isn't working." Derek said standing and walking to the window.

"Maybe what?" Stiles managed, heart laying hopscotch in his stomach, throat tight.

"Maybe, you actually cared." Derek said head hung, and now Stiles knew he wasn't imagining it. He hurt Derek, he hurt his feelings, there were feelings involved here and not just on his side and Stiles had been a dick and hurt Derek's. "But I was obviously wrong." Derek added starting to open the window.

"wait." Stiles said rushing forward and planting himself between Derek and the window.

"I love you!" he blurted frantically, "and I didn't want to because it scares me. Because you're—you... you're twenty four and gorgeous and always angry. I swore I wasn't going to because, god, Derek we hated each other. And you almost get yourself killed like once a week! How am I supposed to deal with that?" he said catching his breath before continuing, "And so I made rules because I wanted you, but I couldn't have you. So no cuddles, no feelings, just sex. I couldn't get my heart broken by just sex. And that night, I couldn't pretend I didn't love you anymore so I ran and I ignored the problem hoping it would go away. But you didn't." he said heart hammering.

Stiles took a deep breath. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I love you Derek Hale, and will you be my boyfriend?"

Derek laughed that deep rumbling laugh that made Stiles warm all over and pulled him in, hand at his hip and the other at the back of his neck. Smile stretched over his lips.

"yes." He said before pulling Stiles in and kissing him.

When Stiles laid in bed later that night, Derek curled around him, lips pressed to the nape of his neck. Stiles pulled the arm that was draped around his middle closer and smiled because hate sex rocked, but I love you sex; it was a million times better. Plus, it came with cuddles.