Author's Note: Happy belated birthday Spencer! I hope you enjoy!

Stiles flexed his calves in the tight spandex one more time. The fabric visibly tightened around his leg, but didn't make the squeaky sound Stiles had feared. With his tongue half stuck out of his mouth, he adjusted the headband, making sure the Asgardian symbol was in the middle. He turned away from the mirror, throwing a look outside. Night had already fallen around Beacon Hills and at the end of October, the world looked cold. After turning back to his reflection, Stiles decided he could shelter his bare underarms by adjusting the red cape-like scarf around his neck. The fabric felt smooth; it lying across his skin.

"Stiles! Lydia's here!" a voice called from downstairs.

"Alright, I'll be right down, dad," Stiles shouted back, rolling his eyes – even though Lydia was late as always, she was still too early.

He slid a hand through his hair for the last time. A quick nod assured himself this would have to do for tonight. And if it didn't, he could just blame Lydia.

"Oh my God, that's the perfect costume for you," his friend commented when Stiles came bounding down the stairs. "I told you it would be great."

Stiles huffed in slight annoyance. "Well, it's nothing compared to you," he replied, gesturing at her.

And indeed, Lydia looked incredible in her leather outfit. It showed a lot of skin – and Stiles instantly wondered if she wasn't going to be cold, then again, that could also be her tactic – but it looked really appealing. Almost like one of those candies wrapped in paper that's so sticky you have to carefully peel it off.

"We come from different worlds, don't worry about it," Lydia brushed it off with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, you ready? We really need to go."

"I thought being late showed that you're important?"

"It does, but getting there too late says not-interested all the way, so come on," she replied, her hand already on the door handle.

After saying bye to his dad, Stiles hurried outside.

"I still can't believe you got invited to a senior's Halloween party," he said after Lydia had sat down in the driver's seat. They both buckled up.

Lydia gave him a look. "Why? He doesn't know we're freshmen," she explained. "I'm telling you, it's all about how you present yourself and about how you come across."

"So what? You talked about exams or something?"

Lydia shrugged lightly. "No…" she answered, "but I might have had an advantage when I mentioned I'm dating a Deputy."

Stiles' jaw dropped. "You threatened to shut down the party?!"

"Well, if that's how you'd like to call it…"

"Oh my God."

He rubbed his temples, shaking his head. He couldn't believe Lydia would do something like that. Or, then again, maybe he could.

"You're the worst, you know?"

Lydia shrugged lightly. "Just be glad I got you into the party of the year, that's being thrown by the guy you have a major crush on, by the way." She nodded, as if she was finding confirmation in her own words. "You should be thankful."

Stiles' cheeks reddened. "I don't have a major crush, okay? Maybe just a little, casual one." He sighed, worry visible on his face. "And are you sure you were allowed to bring a plus one?"

"Hmhm, yeah. As long as it wasn't my boyfriend," she giggled.

Stiles gave her a look.

"Oh, come on, stop worrying. It's going to be fine," Lydia assured him.

"Fine," Stiles gave in, resting his head against the side window until he realized he was flattening his hair. He quickly sat back up. "So…Parrish isn't coming?"

Lydia frowned. "Oh, no, he is. Right after his shift."

Stiles rolled his eyes.

Half an hour later, Lydia killed the engine of her car. "Here we are," she said.

The building in front of them looked huge, almost like a flat, but with bigger windows. The moon was full tonight, casting a serene glimmer through the across the sky, like the light of a candle in a dark room.

Stiles looked out the window cautiously. "This is where he lives? In a loft?"

"They're very spacious, you know."

"Do you?"

"No…" Lydia confessed, "But they must be. This is a really expensive neighbourhood."

Stiles just assumed she liked to look that sort of stuff up every once in a while. She had to keep herself busy with something, given the fact even college proved to be too easy for her. Just like high school.

They got out of the car and moved towards the building. Derek lived on the fourth floor. Stiles expected the hallways to smell, but they actually didn't. He could already feel the distant bass vibrating his insides. Derek's door was open, just like that, and Stiles was surprised that the guy would be okay with just anyone walking in. Maybe Lydia had exaggerated a little when she had said she had to 'get them in'.

The lights in the room were switched off and replaced by a couple of black lights. Some people had neon paint on their faces, which lit up, just like their eyes. Stiles thought the whole thing made them look weird, but he also felt pretty stupid for not colouring up. The only thing that lit up a little was his headband. He watched the people awkwardly.

Probably because of his dumbstruck expression, Lydia took his hand in hers and pulled him into the crowd. Stiles tried to dance a little to the music that was blasting through the speakers, also not to drag a lot of attention to himself. This was a party for mostly seniors after all, so he had to stay on the down low.

Lydia didn't seem to agree; she just dragged Stiles with her. He wasn't really sure what she was up to, but he was fine with it. She seemed way more comfortable than he was.

The drinks table came in sight and Stiles licked his lips at the sudden idea of infusing his body with some nerve-soothing alcohol. Even though he didn't drink. And even if he had wanted to, he didn't get a chance, because Lydia apparently had a different idea, because she turned left. Stiles groaned, but was unheard above the music.

Lead sank into his shoes when Derek and his friends came into sight. He recognized a couple of them; Erica, Boyd and Isaac, and Theo was there as well, a guy Stiles didn't particularly liked. Theo had tried to come in between Scott and Stiles last year, attempting to push them apart. His plan had went quite well at first; twisting some of their words and putting little misconceptions into their heads. Yet, Stiles and Scott had stayed true to each other, because when tensions had ran too high, they had just talked about it. That's when they found out Theo had been lying to them and, after confronting him, they hadn't seen much from him since. Being a freshman as well, Stiles was surprised Theo had become friends with the seniors.

Speaking of Derek's friends, they were a bit scattered; Erica and Boyd being too busy with each other while Isaac tried to get some girls' attention. Theo was talking to a girl in a zombie nurse outfit and Stiles watched them inch closer and kiss. He rolled his eyes, debating if he should go over and ask her if it was nice to french a guy that had the tongue of a serpent. But he didn't have to, because the fact that Theo had clearly dressed up as Loki did some justice to the world.

Derek came into Stiles' sight. He watched the guy and the three girls that were stood around him. They were gorgeous and Stiles recognized one of them as Derek's girlfriend – she kept pressing kisses onto his cheek lovingly. Stiles pulled a face at the quartet.

Unfortunately, the metal that had earlier sunk into his legs didn't prove to be heavy enough to withstand Lydia's pulling, so before Stiles realized what was going on, Derek noticed them.

"Lydia?" he called as they walked up to him. It almost sounded like he had been surprised she came. Stiles inwardly scoffed at the thought of that – Derek clearly didn't know her.

She and Stiles walked up to him. A familiar tingle shot through Stiles' stomach when Derek's gaze crossed his.

"And…" he turned his head a little, "…Stiles, isn't it?"

Stiles nodded rapidly, his knees weakening from Derek speaking his name. One foot slipped out from under him, like he had suddenly broken his ankle, and he quickly grabbed Lydia's shoulder to hold himself up.

Derek watched them with a frown, before his face lit up. "Wait," he grinned, "is this the Deputy you are dating?"

"What? Stiles? No, of course not, can you imagine?" Lydia laughed, pushing Stiles' off her.

"Thanks, Lyd'." Stiles grimaced.

She showed him a wide-eyed look. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"I know you didn't."

Stiles turned back to Derek, who had upped one eyebrow at them weirdly. Stiles smiled bitterly before averting his gaze. He'd make sure Lydia would go to hell for that comment.

"Cool party," his friend broke the tension, nodding her head.

"Thanks," Derek smirked, his girlfriend still hanging onto his shoulder. "Cool outfit. Let me guess…Black Widow?"

Lydia flung her red hair across her shoulder. "Yes, well done. And you must be…"

Only then Stiles took a moment to examine Derek from head to toe. There were a couple of fake piercings in his ear. Along his arms and legs he had brushstrokes of green paint – somehow it outlined his muscles even better – and he was wearing a black sleeveless shirt with purple wings on his chest, which looked incredibly broad, by the way. Stiles swallowed the sudden overflow of saliva.

Meanwhile, Lydia was still staring at Derek with a thoughtful look. Stiles turned to her to finally notice this, before turning back to Derek. After looking at him again, it suddenly clicked together.

"You're Teddy, aren't you? From the Young Avengers?" he asked, pointing at Derek's outfit.

Derek's eyebrows rose in surprise – either because he thought Stiles had finally found the ability to speak directly towards him or because he was surprised the freshman had figured it out.

"Yeah, I am," he said, nodding with a sly grin. His front teeth became visible as he looked Stiles up and down. "And you're Billy."

Stiles swallowed again, but this time because his throat had ran dry. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, for a moment mesmerized by Derek's eyes. "I-I…" he stammered, "I am." He cleared his throat. "Yes, I am."

"Cool," Derek replied and Stiles seriously thought he was going to suffocate if he wouldn't stop looking at him like that.

Derek held his gaze a beat longer, nodding slowly. Stiles' abdomen was doing backflips.

Luckily for him, the girl next to Derek turned and demanded his attention. She said something in his ear, but Stiles couldn't hear her. Derek smiled and kissed her lips.

"I'll see you guys later," he said, before he moved into the crowd.

The girl tilted her head at Stiles and smiled a little, but in a way that didn't come across as very friendly. He gave her a weird look.

"Come on, let's go dance or something," Lydia said.

Their fingers intertwined, but when Stiles was about to let himself be dragged along again, a hand grabbed his shoulder. Swiftly, he turned around, ready to punch the offender for touching him unannounced. Lydia stopped dead in her tracks as well.

Stiles froze when he saw it was Theo. The guy smirked at him, inching his face closer to his. Stiles backed away a little, drawing his upper lip in disgust, like an angry dog showing its teeth dangerously.

"I see the way you look at him, you know," Theo said.

Stiles frowned, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he replied, "What do you mean?"

"I see how you look at Derek," Theo rephrased, "like you're crushing on him."

Stiles licked his lips, not really knowing how to respond to that. He balled his free hand into a fist. Of course Theo would be the one to find this out about him. He looked at the golden helmet on the guy's head and wondered how far he could shove one of those horns up into his-

"He has a girlfriend, you know," the Loki impersonator pushed, his words dripping with gall that burned holes inside of Stiles' stomach.

"I know," Stiles responded with narrowed eyes. "It was kinda obvious."

Theo smirked. "Good. I just wanted to make sure you did. You know, remind you that your costume is still a costume and that you don't actually have the power to change reality."

"Well, you're a great friend," Stiles spat, voice laced with sarcasm.

Theo's face fell a little, but then seemingly pulled himself together. He cracked his neck.

"Just remember that your accidental matching outfits don't mean anything," he hissed, eying Stiles up and down. "It's just fiction. And it's gonna stay that way." He smirked again before bumping Stiles' shoulder as he walked past him.

Stiles' head was pounding as he watched the guy trail off, seeing if there was something in his reach he could haul after him.

"What did he say?" Lydia asked, a concerned look on her face.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Stiles answered sternly. "Come on, let's go dance."

The rest of the night dragged along casually. Well, to Stiles it did, since he was pretty sure he was the only sober one at that moment. The dancefloor had turned into an obscene mixture of grinding bodies and sloppy kisses. Stiles refused to drink, given his dad was the Sheriff after all. He doubted if he would ever hear the end of it would he get home drunk before turning twenty-one. So instead, he judged the people around him silently as he danced with Lydia.

He couldn't help but look for Derek a couple of times throughout the party. Though, unfortunately, he hadn't seen a lot of him after their first and last encounter at the start of the evening.

A sigh slipped past his lips. He didn't know why he bothered to look for Derek anyway. Like Theo had mentioned – and like Stiles had already noticed, thank you very much for the heads up, asshole – Derek was in a relationship. And even if he wasn't, why would he bother with Stiles? He probably thought of him like some annoying little kid.

A hand waved in front of his face, pulling Stiles back to Earth.

"Jordan's here. I'm gonna go look for him," Lydia announced. "Are you alright by yourself for a while?"

Of course he wasn't.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure," Stiles answered, showing her a quick smile.

Lydia touched his shoulder briefly before disappearing into the crowd. Stiles looked around himself awkwardly, rubbing the spot she had just touched him. He tried to continue dancing, but suddenly started to feel very self-aware, as if everyone was glaring at him. Laughter pierced through the music and Stiles hunched his shoulders, slumping in on himself. Silently, he prayed Lydia would return soon, but then again, he knew she wouldn't. He was going to be by his lonesome for the rest of this stupid party and then at the end had to go look for her, because she was still his ride home. Knowing his luck, he would also eventually run into Theo again, who would grant him one of those smirks that Stiles hated with every fibre of his body. One of those arrogant, quasi sympathizing looks that would straighten the hairs on Stiles' arm from pure agony.

The air in the room seemed to thicken at that image. Stiles tugged onto the red scarf around his neck, trying to loosen it a little. The headband squeezed tighter around his head. Breathing suddenly became harder and harder and Stiles wondered if he may be allergic to the fog the smoke machine was producing. But he knew he wasn't, because if he would be, he would've noticed it the moment he had entered the room. His mouth felt dry; tongue stuck to the roof. A drink. He needed something to drink. And maybe a bit of fresh air. Ugh, why hadn't he gone with Lydia? Even standing next to a snogging couple would have been better than being all alone.

He tried to focus on his breathing while he pushed through the people. Obviously, they pushed back, which didn't really benefit Stiles' momentarily claustrophobia. He aimed for the right side of the room, where he had earlier seen the table with drinks on them.

When he had almost reached it, a girl stepped back, placing her leg right between Stiles'. His foot hooked behind her calve and he launched forward. With grabby hands he tried to find something to hold onto, but it was in vain, because before his mind comprehended what was going on, he was on his hands and knees on the floor. A mixture of mud and spilled drinks damped his jeans and stuck to his knees. Stiles got up and tried to adjust them, but since the fabric wasn't already quite loose by itself, it hurt like fuck. Yep, he was pretty sure he had basically ripped out all of the hairs from his shins. Nice.

Grumbling inwardly, the freshman moved over to the table. He searched through the plastic red cups, trying to find one that looked at least remotely decent. Or one that at least didn't have red lipstick on the rim. Ugh, gross.

He poured himself a coke, sniffing it briefly before he took a careful sip. Coke. Just regular coke, thank God. The liquid felt heavenly on his tongue, even though it was lukewarm. He then turned around, savouring the taste for a moment before he swallowed. A guy with dragon wings on his back walked up to him and Stiles quickly got out of the way when one of them hit him in the face. He found a free spot next to the table, his back leaning against the wall, safely tucked away from the outrageous costumes.

This was hell. Pure hell. He never should've come to this. Lydia and her stupid ideas. Why did he let himself be so easily persuaded? At first he didn't even want to go! Just when Lydia had mentioned Derek's stupid name he had been sold. God, that wasn't even being easy. That was just being desperate.

He got distracted from those thoughts when he noticed some movement behind the big window at the front of the room. Stiles squinted, not sure if it had been caused by the reflection of the lights inside or by something else. If he moved his head forward a little, he could see the full moon in the distance. After having stared at it for a little while, the moon suddenly disappeared for a moment. Stiles squinted. Yes, there was someone out there, which meant he could get out there as well. Fresh air, at last.

With new found hope and determination, Stiles squeezed himself along the wall, past a bunch of drunk students. Thanking every possible God he knew of that the door to the balcony was on this side of the room and not the other, Stiles opened it.

Once outside, he recognized the shade that had earlier obstructed his view of the moon as a girl. Her mascara was messy under her eyes, like she had been crying. Stiles stared a little uncomfortably at her, because her creepy nurse outfit was very revealing, and to Stiles, way too cold. She looked up, a phone pressed against her ear, joined by an annoyed look which was sent Stiles' way.

He, however, didn't really understand why she looked so upset, so he just greeted her with a simple 'hi'.

The girl rolled her eyes. "I've gotta go, I'll see you in a bit," she said before killing the connection and stomping straight past Stiles.

The boy blinked a couple of times, turning around to apologize for infiltrating her privacy, but then figured she was probably delusional, because how could she have expect to have privacy at a frat party? Which was very ironic, because Stiles now did have the balcony all to himself.

He walked forward towards the edge, resting his elbows on the cold bricks. He shivered at the nightly breeze that caressed his skin, but after a deep inhale decided it was bearable. The fresh air filled his lungs and all of Stiles' irritations instantly vanished, like snowflakes in the sunlight. He could probably stay here all night, even. What time was it anyway? He looked for his phone – the spandex not helping, again. Luckily Halloween was only once a year.

Two hours left until the official end. So probably three before Lydia would want to go. He could definitely stay out here for that long. If anyone would walk in and interrupt him he would just make his face look like one of a murder's. Like he had some sort of dark spirit inside of him that was about to kill them. One of those bloodthirsty possessed people. Empty. He would just pretend to be void. Yes, void. That even sounded awesome as well. See? He could totally do this. He wasn't even thinking about the cold anymore now either.

The door flew open, banging loudly against the wall. Stiles looked up, eyes wide from the shock. He straightened his back, moving his arms from the edge of the balcony. The grip on his cup tightened, ready to give his intimidating look.

The stranger stumbled, reaching back for the handle. After closing the door, it appeared like he was pressing his forehead against it. Stiles frowned, thinking the intruder mustn't have noticed him yet.

Finally, the dark frame emerged from the shadows and Stiles' jaw dropped an inch when he noticed who it was.

"Derek?"

The older guy squinted in the night, stumbling closer. "Billy!" he replied, but then laughed at himself, "I mean, Stiles!"

"W-What are you doing here?" Stiles asked before realizing that was a stupid question.

"Needed to get away from the crowd for a bit," Derek still answered, killing the distance between him and Stiles. He came to stand next to him, in the same position the younger one had been in earlier.

Stiles frowned. Now that Derek was closer, he noticed his dilated pupils and the dark rings under his eyes. His body also seemed to sway, just a little, rocking softly from side to side. Stiles' eyes drew to the cup in his hands.

"A-Are you-?" He cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Derek slurred, "Perfectly fine." He withheld a burp and Stiles grimaced.

"So…then why are you out here?"

Derek puffed out a breath and Stiles wrinkled his nose at the obvious smell of alcohol.

"Because I just dumped my girlfriend," Derek answered.

Stiles perked up. If Derek hadn't already had his full attention, he definitely did now. "You broke up? Why?"

Derek scoffed, averting his gaze to his cup. "Apparently she has cheated on me," he answered matter-of-factly. "With Theo."

Stiles refrained the urge to launch his cup over the railing. That damn bastard. How could he do something like that? After basically having no friends when Scott and Stiles had rejected him, how could he screw over the only friend he had? The guy definitely was a sociopath. Or maybe he fed off people's misery. Or maybe betrayal was just a major turn on him for him. Jesus Christ, he had even went up to Stiles to tell him he and Derek weren't ever going to happen, while he was basically making sure Derek would be single again. What a jerk. Unbelievable.

"That…" Stiles wanted to say 'sucks', but he could tell from the look on Derek's face that he already knew that.

"Yup," Derek nodded anyway, twisting the cup around in his hands. "And did I mention he also had a girlfriend?"

Stiles' eyes widened. "Are you serious?!"

"Yeah…"

"That guy has literally blasted through earth, straight from hell, hasn't he?" Stiles muttered, leaning his back against the railing.

Derek snorted, shaking his head. "I guess so." He sniffed, looking up at the sky.

Stiles watched the moonlight cast a silver shade across Derek's face. Somehow, he looked softer; not all sharp corners and edges. Only his jawline still held its well-defined shape. Stiles wondered how it would feel to slide his finger alongside of it; wondered if the stubbles there would burn his skin like sandpaper or caress it with a velvety roughness.

Derek sniffed again. Stiles exhaled a deep sigh and shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry, man," he broke the silence, not really knowing what else to say. It wasn't like they knew each other. No, they were just two guys going to the same college; vague acquaintances.

Derek shrugged. "Thanks. It's whatever," he said.

Stiles nodded. He rubbed his upper arms, feeling his slowly freezing skin under the palms of his hands. From the corners of his eyes he wondered if Derek wasn't cold, since he didn't even have sleeves. Then again, did it really matter? It wasn't like Stiles could keep him warm.

"It's whatever," Derek repeated. He chugged his drink. "I'm gonna get another one of these."

Stiles looked up, stomach clenching that Derek was about to leave again.

The guy turned to him. "You gonna stay here?" he asked.

Stiles shrugged lightly, trying to be casual. "Yeah. I'm good…" He bit his lip. "Fresh air and stuff."

Derek frowned a little, but then smiled gently. "Alright then." He pushed himself off the railing, almost tumbling over in the process. Stiles quickly stepped forward to help, but Derek was already back on his feet.

Stiles watched him leave, mentally kicking himself for not taking that opportunity. He had finally been alone with Derek Hale. He should say something. Anything of meaning so that Derek wouldn't leave.

"You know, it's just a break-up," he prompted.

Derek held his pace. "What?"

Stiles' eyes widened. Way to make the whole thing seem irrelevant. Well done. His heart sunk.

"What did you say?"

"I-I mean, err…" Stiles mumbled, desperately trying to think of something. "I mean…none of those relationships that happen in college stay anyway, right?"

Oh my God, shut up.

Derek glared at Stiles, face twisted in all sorts of offence. Stiles shrunk in on himself, wondering if Derek would be the kind of person that would hit him for saying something senseless like that.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Derek repeated, finally breaking the silence.

Stiles sighed, watching the door fall shut behind him. Instantly he noticed the cold again, trembling a little. He couldn't believe he had screwed up. Finally, he had had the chance to maybe create a bond with the guy he had been crushing on. Finally, Derek had recognized and talked to him. God, why did he have to be so awkward? 'It's just a break up', really, Stiles?

The boy's back scraped against the brick railing as he slid down. With pulled up knees, he sat, watching the lights flicker behind the window and the people dancing under them. Why couldn't he be more like that? More normal? Not some boy that suffered from severe social anxiety.

How many times had people not told him to just get over it? And how many times had he felt like shit about that, because they made it sound so easy? It wasn't like he wanted to overthink every move, every word he spoke, and every thought that entered his mind. It had just always been that way. And he had only met a handful of people who understood that. Scott, Lydia, even his ex-girlfriend, Malia, who was as tactless as could be, had always treated him with respect.

The door swung open again, the music hurrying outside and into the night. Stiles' shoulders submitted to the weight of his awkwardness. Instantly, he felt like fleeing, just wanting to be left alone; to be the loser that he was in solitude.

"You know, it's not just a break-up," Derek slurred as he stumbled back outside, shutting the door behind him. The music faded into the background again.

Stiles launched onto his feet, surprised. "What?"

"You don't know anything about me," Derek continued. "For all you know, this… This could be the real thing. So, so what do you know?"

Stiles rose his shoulders. "Well, I don't really know... But you have had a lot of girlfriends, haven't you?"

"That is," Derek replied, pointing at Stiles with his drink, causing it to spill over his hand. "That is not important."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "If you say so," he said, slumping back down through his knees.

Derek stumbled closer, attempting to sit down. He crouched, that time almost spilling his drink onto Stiles, who held up his hands defensively.

"Sorry," Derek murmured, flopping down onto his butt. Stiles scrunched up his nose, because that looked hurtful. But Derek didn't give a kick.

They sat like that for a while, quietly. Right when Stiles was about to ask if Derek had only come back to tell him he had misjudged him, the senior broke the silence.

"I really thought it was the real thing," he mumbled, the nail on his thumb scratching his cup.

"What do you mean?"

"Like the forever love thing, you know?"

"Well, I'm sorry it wasn't," Stiles replied with a voice just as low.

Derek took a sip from his drink. Stiles watched his Adam's apple move as he swallowed.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm tired of all these flings?" he suddenly asked.

Stiles looked up. "Are you?"

Derek made a humming sound in the back of his throat. "Yep," he answered. "I'm just ready to get settled, y'know? Like, I'm so ready for the real love."

Stiles' stomach clenched. "I know." He sighed. "And I'm sure you'll get that, eventually."

Derek wiped his nose. A shiver crept up Stiles' spine, toes curling. Oh, God.

He then watched how Derek rubbed his eyes and Stiles cringed. "Are you…?" he whispered.

Derek shook his head, sniffing.

"Oh," Stiles answered, "No, hey, dude, come on, it's gonna be alright."

Derek leaned his body a little bit more against Stiles'. The boy bit his lip uncomfortably before he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Derek let out a trembling sigh, resting his head on Stiles' shoulder. A mixture of alcohol and sweat hit Stiles' sense of smell and he sat up a little more. He wanted to trail his other arm around Derek as well, but felt it would be a little too much, so he let it rest beside him. This was already awkward enough as it was.

Because it felt odd, comforting someone that was significantly taller and bigger than him, not even to mention older. On one hand, it was really uncomfortable, but on the other he couldn't deny the wonderful feelings that rushed through him. He had his arm around Derek Hale. Derek Hale was opening up to him. Sure, he was drunk, but still. Stiles was comforting Derek Hale, the most popular guy in school, who was four years older than him. He rubbed his upper arm a little, swallowing as he felt the strong muscles under his touch. God, this was going to drive him nuts.

"You'll get it right sometime," he assured Derek softly, not realizing that the pointy corners of his words would pop their blissful bubble. Derek moved away.

He nodded, wiping his nose again. "Thanks," he muttered, now probably a little embarrassed himself. "And…and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this, okay?"

Stiles shook his head. "I won't tell." It's not like anyone would believe him anyway.

He looked up at the huge glass window, where, behind it, people were still dancing. Because of the darkness outside, Stiles knew they couldn't really see him and Derek. They were literally on the outside looking in. Their shoulders still touched lightly, gently like a feather, and in that moment Stiles vowed to himself he was never going to move from this spot, ever.

But then, naturally, Derek did. "I should go back inside," he said, voice rasp and low. "See if Boyd and Isaac have thrown Theo out yet."

Stiles nodded. "What about your ex?"

"I don't know if she's still here," Derek replied. "But she can fuck off as well."

Stiles snickered and Derek gave him an amused look.

"Yeah, they can fuck off into the sunset for all I care," the guy added.

"Screw each other till the end of the world," Stiles continued.

Derek laughed, shaking his head. "I hope Theo's dick will fall off," he said, follow by a deep breath. "Maybe you can do so something to it."

Stiles frowned. "Me?" he asked. "Have you seen me?"

Self-pity; very attractive. Well done, Stiles.

"No, I meant maybe Billy can," Derek explained, laughing. "Like, at least make Theo think his dick has fallen off."

"Oh." Stiles chuckled. "Well, why only let him think it has happened, while you can just rip it off. You're Hulkling."

"Dude, I'm not touching that," Derek said with a disturbed look. "All his evil is probably, like, rooted in there."

Stiles thought until he upped a finger. "Are you saying he wouldn't be such an asshole if he were a girl?"

"Nah, then he would've just been a bitch."

Stiles grinned. For a moment he debated telling Derek what Theo had said to him, but he quickly swallowed those words back down. He wiggled his legs a little, feet gently rocking to the faint bass they could hear from inside. He noticed Derek's feet were doing the same thing and his earlier grin shrunk to a gentle smile. Derek moved beside him, emptying his cup.

"Weren't you gonna go?" Stiles asked after a while, pursing his lips.

Derek tilted his head. "Do you wanna come with?"

Stiles looked up, debating the invitation. It meant being around Derek for the rest of the evening, but it probably also meant being around his friends. He would be non-stop meeting people and standing there awkwardly, while Derek socialized.

"Nah, I'm still fine right here."

Derek's eyes narrowed a little. Stiles noticed how small they had become from the alcohol. He watched him lick his lips and Stiles inhaled a sharp breath, holding it when the guy suddenly moved closer. The younger one froze instantly, unable to move; unsure if he even wanted to move.

The distance between their faces became smaller and smaller and Stiles could hear his blood rush in his ears. His heart had fired up into his head, pounding rapidly against his temples. He could smell sweat again, but now, being so close, he could also distinguish a hint of sweetness. Maybe it was the the sugar from the coke which Derek had mixed his drink with or maybe he just naturally smelled like that. Stiles didn't care, both reasons were perfectly fine, because Derek's face now really fucking was very close. His soft breath even tickled the tip of Stiles' nose.

Then, Derek's lips gently touched his. Stiles' watched his eyes close before he mimicked the motion. His senses heightened, burned like someone had just set them on fire. The thrumming bass faded into the background, as did the soft moonlight and Stiles completely forgot about the rest of his body. There were just his lips on Derek's, who was kissing him so softly it made Stiles yearn. A moan grumbled in the back of his throat. Jesus Christ, Derek's lips were like fucking pillows. He could feel the stubbles on his upper lip against his own, scraping his skin slightly. To be honest, it didn't feel nice. It hurt slightly, but, God, did it make it feel more real.

Way too early, Derek backed away. If Stiles hadn't been caught too off-guard, his lips would have followed him hungrily. But, to be honest, he wasn't going to make a fool out of himself. It wasn't much, but he still had at least some dignity left.

"Thanks for cheering me up," Derek whispered, eyes holding Stiles'.

Stiles hummed something high pitched that could be considered a 'you're welcome'. A furious blush immediately spread around his cheeks as he watched Derek get up. He licked his lips, still tasting the senior on the tip of his tongue, watching him get back to the party.

Yeah, well, there was definitely no one who was going to believe this.