He woke fuzzily, the world a brief blur before it fell into focus and the sun glared at his open eyes, forcing him to throw an arm over his eyes and take stock of what was going on. He was at Scott's, in a guest room.

His head hurt…. Hangover.

Diagnosis complete, Stiles swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up shakily, legs feeling weak and stomach protesting with a violent wrenching feeling that brought on a strange dizziness.

The time it took him to get to the bathroom was probably record breaking as he pushed off the nearest wall and ran for the open door, collapsing to his knees almost immediately.

The contents of his stomach was emptied out with a strangled retching noise that just made him feel sicker and more likely to vomit than when he had first woken up. Slowly, after a moment of staring at his knees for a good minute, he stood and flushed the toilet, removing the evidence of his queasiness and moving over to the sink and turning on the water, splashing his face a few times and running a now wet hand across the back of his neck.

He met his own reflection in the mirror, slightly blood shot eyes with a pale face stared straight back at him, and Stiles groaned softly: he had managed to get himself drunk last night… he ran a hand through his bed messed hair and closed his eyes to the headache he was currently suffering from.

The sound of footsteps was almost deafening, and Stiles had to refrain from snapping the other person's head off.

"Hangover cure?"

Stiles looked up to find that the offer had come from Peter, who had probably heard his scramble to the bathroom, and the older male held out a clear cup filled with an orange liquid in it that smelt off and Stiles almost lost his stomach again.

He downed it in one go, grimacing and sticking out his tongue as if it would air out the taste and then trying to wash it out with water, listening to Peter's movements behind him. When he next looked up, the older male was leaning his back against the doorframe, examining his fingers in a bored way.

"Did I miss the part where you became considerate?" Stiles asked, pushing himself up and onto the edge of the sink.

"No… I never became considerate" Peter answered slowly "I just had a member of the family returned to me; I'm allowed a little compassion… I'll scratch your beck… you scratch mine"

"Meaning?" Stiles asked vaguely, swinging out his legs away from the sink.

"Meaning my nephew is interested in you, and that makes it my job to make sure you're in tip-top condition for him" Peter answered with a toothless smile, turning his gaze to Stiles.

Stiles groaned and rested his head against the cool of the mirror behind him, headache receding slowly "That sounds so creepy you know"

Peter huffed with a smile "You don't complain about my supposed creepiness and I won't complain when you and Derek are a little too loud and I feel the urge to get a high pressure hose"

He would have been between embarrassed and frustrated if he hadn't heard an exasperated yell of "PETER!" which had obviously come from Derek's mouth.

Peter only chuckled and pushed off the door frame he had been leaning on, quickly, but noticeably checking himself in the mirror behind Stiles before leaving.

"Conceited werewolf…" Stiles murmured to himself, sliding off the sink and re-entering his temporary room, tugging off his shirt and tossing it behind him, freezing when he didn't hear it thunk into the hamper. Stiles turned around carefully and watched as Derek gently dropped his shirt into the hamper from where he had caught it.

A long time ago he would have flailed wildly and hidden from Derek in his half naked state, but newfound confidence repelled the urge to do so "Nearly get you did I?"

Derek only nodded with a smile "Nearly"

Stiles grinned and turned around, searching through the suitcase he had brought with him and pulling out a shirt and jacket.

Derek had ceased standing near the door way and instead sat down on the nearby armchair, shuffling slightly to get comfortable.

Stiles sighed as he pulled the newer shirt over his head and then picked up a pair of jeans and went back into the bathroom, getting dressed in record speed before ducking back out and pointing an accusatory finger in Derek's direction "Before you say anything, I'm fine now, Peter is not that bad… I'm a little curious as to why he's being so nice and also… I don't regret a thing" he said speedily, the look on Derek's face bringing back memories of days long gone "Don't look at me like that"

"Like what?" Derek asked plainly, tilting his head to the left slightly.

"Like 'that's so Stiles'" he answered, walking over to the bed and making it efficiently, pulling the sheets taught and throwing the pillows off of the bed haphazardly, grinning when he noticed Derek stopping one from hitting his chest by catching it with two hands.

"… Now I have nothing to say" Derek responded, standing from the armchair and moving to the other side of the bed to assist Stiles "Guess you'll just have to keep talking"

Stiles froze: arms rigid as he looked to Derek disbelievingly "Did you just make a joke? You don't make jokes, you don't… are you A-Okay Sourwolf?" he got a hook on his rant before it fell out of control by clamping his mouth shut.

Derek chuckled and gave Stiles a smile that looked so fond and melted all of the icy stares that the werewolf used to give him when he rambled "I'm fantastic Stiles… we're dating… right?"

Stiles returned to making the bed and nodded with a smile "Yes, we are… doing that"

Once they'd finished, Derek stood straight and nodded seriously, a sort of shocked look on his face before he looked to Stiles, who gave a shaky smile because his legs felt a little weak and his heart was trying to break free of his ribcage.

The werewolf grinned back and closed the gap between them with a tight embrace, hands splayed against Stiles' back, one arm around his waist and the other at his shoulders. Stiles sighed softly and settled into Derek, wrapping his own arms around the older man's waist tightly, breathing in the smell of pine, leather and dirt.

"You always smell so forest-y" Stiles murmured, flexing his hands against Derek's jacket slowly.

Derek chuckled, pressing his face into Stiles' neck "You smell like books"

"I smell like books" Stiles repeated lamely "Like… all the time?"

Derek just chuckled again and tightened his grip on Stiles "Only right now"

"Are you flirting? Did the wolves teach you pick up lines? Or maybe the trees taught you how to improve your conversation skills?" Stiles stopped when Derek growled softly, even though it felt playful, Stiles had grown to associate that sound with trouble. He could learn to change that.

"When do you have to go back?" Derek murmured, voice rumbling deep in his chest while his warm breath whispered against Stiles' neck.

"My courses are online: that's one of the reasons I brought the laptop with me: so I didn't have to leave right away" Stiles answered, lifting one arm from Derek's back to wave it in the direction of his suitcase.

He felt rather than saw Derek nod in understanding, and the werewolf squeezed him gently, lifting away his head to press a chaste kiss to Stiles' lips "Okay"

A throat clearing was what broke them apart, jumping away from one another like startled birds, and Stiles tried to put on a face of innocence and turned to Scott, who was standing in the doorway, two fingers raised as if to knock on the doorframe.

"Morning" Scott stated simply, smiling away his obvious awkwardness with practised ease as he turned to Stiles "How's your head? Peter said you looked wrecked and I can't say I disagree"

Stiles scoffed and waved a hand in Scott's direction "I'm fine, I've been tossed around by grumpy werewolves: I think I can handle a hangover"

That got a growl from Derek and an undignified snort from Scott, who tilted his head to indicate to Stiles that he should follow. Saluting to Derek, Stiles followed Scott's lead down the stairs of the house and into the kitchen. "Your dad called, said he'd be by at around lunch so… I'm glad I didn't have to wake you up"

"And the pack?" Stiles asked, making himself comfortable almost instantly: this was Scott's house, he was home, and there were no formalities here.

"Peter, Cora, Kira and Derek are hanging around, everyone else has gone back to college or home" Scott answered, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking a little like a lost puppy "I really expected more to stay…. Or for them to at least stay a little longer"

"You don't have to use my dad to make me stay Scott, and don't say you're not because I know you… we're best friends, I'm not going to leave after one night" Stiles assured

"One night with Derek" Scott said with a smirk and Stiles just waved his hands in Scott's direction to display his frustration.

"We just kissed! Honestly do you think I'd do that in your house?! Seriously Scott, you need therapy or something"

His best friend just grinned, clearly satisfied with Stiles' reaction and as he turned to do other things Stiles realised that Scott really hadn't changed since he'd last seen him. "I missed you" Stiles stated simply, smiling when Scott turned to him with a confused look and pulling his friend into a hug, patting his back gently "Don't change okay?"

Now he was getting sentimental.

He heard Derek enter the room and imagined him leaning against the wall of the kitchen with his arms folded across his chest. Stiles smiled toothlessly and closed his eyes, resting his chin on Scott's shoulder. He was home.

And he didn't plan on leaving anytime soon.