Hey, sorry for the hiatus. I haven't felt very much like writing and haven't had the motivation ever since summer started. Well, I'm back now, thanks to my friends, a Teen Wolf marathon, and some really good Sterek fanfiction.

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Stiles found himself in an odd conversation including geocaching, werewolf senses, and walking sticks. Boyd was telling him some story about the events of his day, which Stiles was listening to raptly.

Okay, he wasn't really paying attention.

At all.

Stiles was pretty sure a snake and a hillside was involved. Maybe some screaming as well. He wasn't completely certain.

It wasn't his fault. He was having a premature life crisis due to the fact that he attacked Derek's face with his lips. Anyone would be freaked out by that. Anyone with any concern for their body to remain intact.

So Stiles forced himself into conversation with the next person he had contact with. Who happened to be Boyd. And although Boyd was a pretty nice guy, his story about almost picking up a snake wasn't catching his attention at the moment.

Again, not his fault. Stiles was still distracted by Derek. Derek who had a room full of books. Good books. And then he had talked. To Stiles. About said books. Passionately.

If that wasn't a reasonable explanation for being distracted and disoriented and making unadvisable decisions like kissing his face, then he didn't know what was.

Boyd was getting up and walking towards him. Stiles blinked and tried to catch up with the conversation, hoping that the big guy wasn't going to punch him in the face. He flinched a little, then noticed that he was going for a box of poptarts, not his jaw. Letting out a tiny sigh, he relaxed a little bit.

Stiles tried to fill the silence as Boyd threw away the cellophane wrapper and sat at the counter/breakfast bar. His irritating babble didn't go on for too long, however, because the door opened and the golden twins walked in.

Although, now that he thought about it, Isaac had tawny hair, not blond, so that didn't really work.

"Hey mom." They said together, creepily in union. Creepy ass werewolves with their sass and stupid—

"Hey guys, where have you been?" Stiles quipped. "Did you want dinner? What about your laundry, do you need me to do that for you?"

"No, laundry's done. We've been at my house." Erica sassed him right back. "No dinner either, I cooked." She smiled smugly at Boyd's dense expression. He had paused with half a poptart between his teeth.

"Wait, you can cook?" He asked, looking rather comical as he blinked slowly.

"Damn straight." Isaac affirmed as Scott and Allison joined them. As usual, Scott was hungry.

"I heard someone mention food." He looked around expectantly.

Erica held up a huge container and sloshed it around. "Don't drool on the floor, Scott."

"Is it up for grabs?" He asked eagerly.

"You can have some, if you want." Erica rolled her eyes. "But you're sharing with everyone else."

Scott pouted, but bowls were passed around and soon everyone was eating in general quiet. Stiles looked around happily at the rest of the group. They fit in really well at the new place. Boyd was still sitting at the far end of the breakfast bar, joined by Scott and Allison. Erica and Isaac were holding hands and talking to each other softly as they leaned against the cupboards. Stiles was sitting by the bowls on a stool at another counter, but he didn't feel far away from out or outcast.

He was finally starting to feel a little more at ease when Derek walked in. Stiles accidentally caught his eyes and then forgot how to look away. Derek looked like he was trying to decipher a hidden code or some shit, going by the way he stared mercilessly right back. Stiles was embarrassed as he thought about what he did earlier that day. He wondered if Derek was thinking about it too.

Boyd broke the silence with a huff and a groan. "Get some food or get a room, Jesus."

Everyone laughed, except for Stiles, who rolled his eyes and hoped he wasn't blushing, and Derek who sighed and slumped into another stool at the counter. Stiles threw him a bowl, half hoping it would hit Boyd in the head, but Boyd ducked and Derek caught it, dishing up some food for himself.

Somehow, Isaac got them all talking about something. Stiles wasn't sure what the topic was, he didn't really care.

Wow, I am not doing well with the listening or caring today.

Stiles was just watching them all interact. They were all so comfortable with each other. They talked and laughed like family, but without the usual I see and hang out with my family too much but I have to love them because of blood and biology and whatever tension that many families had.

Derek was actually smiling. A good, real smile with teeth and eye crinkles and no smugness or forced anything. His eyes lit up and he laughed and his dimples peeked out.

Goddamn. What is with all of these goddamn wolves with their perfect goddamn looks and dimples and shit?

Stiles's own smile slowly creeped off his face and his hands rubbed down his thighs. It had been a few weeks since he had thrown out all his blades and stopped cutting for good. He wouldn't lie, he still had urges, but Derek after had caught him one night and helped him through, he swore to stop. He could feel his old cuts and scars through his jeans, felt how sensitive his thighs were from the six years of abuse he had wreaked on them.

He also wouldn't lie and say that the panic attacks were the only reason he resorted to blades. His self-esteem had been low from the start, and he had secretly, even to himself, cut as a means to let out steam and pretend that he was good enough. He never really admitted it to himself, not until recently, when someone said something especially hateful and his fingers itched for the blade.

He wouldn't admit that earlier, when the bullying had been worse, he would go home and hurt himself without shedding a tear because it didn't get to him. It didn't. And that recently, when he was left out for being human and fragile or weak…

It had taken this break from cutting to actually realize all of this. And, of course, he would never admit it to anyone else.

He still couldn't believe he'd let himself get caught, couldn't believe that Derek, of all the people in this fucking universe, would be the one to figure it out.

And he had ruined it all by kissing him. There would be no more friendship or helping each other out. Derek was probably completely freaked and never wanted to talk to him again.

Stiles looked up and saw that Derek was watching him. Hoping that his heartbeat wasn't out of whack, Stiles got up and excused himself from the kitchen. "My dad will come busting through those doors if he thinks he has to."

He walked out of the house and down the front porch and fished his keys out of his pocket as he approached his Jeep. "Stiles, wait."

Derek jumped off the porch and bounded towards him. Stiles turned around slowly and watched warily as Derek came to a stop in front of him.

"I…uh… it's okay." Derek said awkwardly.

Stiles paused, unsure of what Derek was trying to say.

"You… when—" He grunted in frustration. "Earlier, what happened. It's okay"

Oh. Oh, oh. The pieces clicked together and Stiles gaped a little.

Just a bit.

"Look, I'm sorry." Stiles rushed. "I didn't mean to. I don't even know why I did. Your face was just kind of there and you were talking about zombies and books and you were really passionate and excited about it all. And like I said, your face was just kind of there and I don't know what I meant by it and I don't know what I want, I just—"

Derek kissed him again. Softly. "It's okay. Besides, I kissed you first, remember?"

Stiles started to shake his head, then remembered the night of his panic attack and how Derek had kissed him, gently on the lips.

"I thought I dreamed that part."

Derek shook his head.

"Well, it was just in the motherly-assuring-a-fucked-up-individual kind of way, right?"

Derek shook his head again.

Stiles gaped some more. "Uh… what does this mean for us?" He gestured between the two of them emphatically.

"I don't know." Derek said genuinely. "We'll figure it out together."

From inside the house, there was the sound of giggles and cheering. Although Stiles couldn't seem them, he just knew they were inside raising glasses and high-fiving to the sound of Stiles's embarrassment. Derek turned, his sweet look souring.

Stiles put a hand out and clutched his shoulder. "Don't. I'll think of something more vindictive and horrible than just yelling at them or giving them the death glare."

Derek looked at him with one eyebrow raised. Then he stopped and laughed.

Stiles's eyebrow twitched and he looked questioningly at Derek.

"I wish you could hear them right now. They actually sound kind of scared."

"What?"

"Scott said you mean business and they all got kind of quiet."

"Ha, that's right. You're all my bitches." Stiles laughed and got into his Jeep. He started up the engine and rolled down his window. "We'll continue talking some other time."

Derek nodded and watched him pull away.

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It was pack night. School was finally over for the summer and the pack was getting together to just hang. When Stiles first got the text (Pack meeting. Tomorrow. Pack House. 6:00) he had flipped out, thinking there was some new threat out to get them. When Scott mentioned video games, pizza, and movies, Stiles had finally understood. There was no danger it was play-time.

That made Stiles slightly embarrassed that he hadn't understood earlier.

It also made him want to hit Derek in his perfect scruffy wolf face. Scaring him half to death with his spur of the moment wolf-pack get togethers. Not actually giving him all the details in order for him not to freak out. Making him mutter to himself. Grumble grumble.

When Scott had laughed at him, Stiles looked him dead in the eye. "Watch it, wolf boy."

And so, the pack night had commenced with popcorn, soda, chips, and video games. Stiles killed Scott at Super Smash Bros and Erica taught Isaac how to play Zelda. After an hour, Jackson and Lydia went out. Most likely to makeout before they had to get the pizza. Scott and Derek moved the coffee table out of the middle of the room and everyone else got seated as Stiles started Batman Begins.

Scott had settled with Allison on the love seat. (Honestly, love seat? Worst name for furniture ever.) They were squeezed together so tight it was hard to tell whose clothes were whose. I guess they're back together then.

Erica was sprawled between Boyd and Isaac on one the floor. Neither of them complained when she shifted and put her head on Isaac's shoulder and her legs on Boyd's lap. They all just snuggled closer to each other.

Stiles was glad. That meant that they had finally gotten past the Erica-running-away-with-Boyd-temporarily drama. That was good.

Stiles was leaning into the arm of another sofa. He had commandeered two pillows and a blanket all for himself. Even though he wasn't cold, he just liked having blankets.

Derek was sitting in an armchair on the other side of the room. Even though he was older, he didn't look at all out of place with the group of teenagers. He was just as interested in the movie as the rest of them. Although, Stiles liked to think that he kept seeing those luminous green eyes flicker over to him a few times.

Jackson and Lydia showed up halfway through the movie with plenty of pizza, and during the shuffle for food, Derek was relocated to the other side of Stiles's couch. Of course. But he didn't complain and the food was passed around in companionable silence as they watched Christian Bale bamf his way across the screen.

Throughout the movie Stiles began to slump over. He wasn't comfortable leaning forward into the side of the couch anymore, but was too nervous to move, not knowing where Derek was and if touching him in any way shape or form would make him detonate.

Stiles was uncomfortable, but he much preferred being intact, thank you very much.

Somehow, Derek must have noticed his discomfort and maybe he smelled Stiles's nerves in the air, but he grabbed Stiles by the waist and pulled him to his chest. Stiles was between Derek's legs and leaning against his perfect sculpted torso and holy shit.

Scott was snickering quietly. Stiles looked around to see the smiles on everyone elses' faces as well, even though they kept up the pretense of watching the movie. But what kind of friend would he be if he didn't give Scott some grief for laughing at him?

"Shut up or I'll have Erica punch your jaw back into alignment." Stiles muttered quietly so only the wolves would have been able to hear him.

Erica actually snorted at that and Derek chuckled deep in his chest and Stiles could feel the vibrations run down to his toes because holy shit.

And they went back to watching the movie.

Okay, that was only half true.

Less than half.

It was kind of partly true.

Sort of.

Stiles was slightly paying attention to the movie and mostly paying attention to the rise and fall of Derek's chest and his breathing and his heartbeat and his laugh and the feeling of him whenever he moved.

Once he had started to relax into him, Stiles found that he was really warm and Stiles was slightly melted into him.

If that was humanly possible.

But, you know, werewolves.

So fuck logic.

Every time one of them shifted position, Stiles became really hyperaware of where his body was and who he was sitting with and what it implied. No, he wasn't going to get into labels and whatever.

Derek said they would figure it out as they went along. So that's what was going to happen. Yeah.

But the fact that they were going to figure it out meant that there was an it to figure out in the first place.

Derek's arm moved and fell over his shoulder, casually landing right above his heart. Stiles smiled lightly, half wondering where his arm had been before in order to avoid contact with him. Stiles's own hands were in his lap, but one of them was reaching up of its own accord and grabbing Derek's.

Holy shit.

That is the goddamn phrase of the evening.

But Derek's fingers twined with his own and Derek said nothing about it. So Stiles cheered internally and went back to being way too aware of Derek.

Huh. It's funny, because a few days ago, Stiles hadn't even known this was something he wanted. It wasn't until he pressed his face to Derek's in a moment of wait, what the fuck am I doing? that he realized what he may have wanted.

And it wasn't until he had gotten back to his house later that fateful day and pumped his fist into the air and made himself a celebratory batch of muffins that he really, really did want it.

Badly. With Derek.

As soon as possible.

Stiles attention was abruptly returned to the movie room when someone flicked on a lamp and Stiles's retinas were suddenly filled with light. He hissed slightly. "Ah, the light, it burns!"

Everyone shifted forward, including Stiles who had to stretch his legs and go to the bathroom. When he came back, the betas were arguing over what movie to watch next. Stiles's was preoccupied with the amount of empty pizza boxes that were in the next room.

"Jesus Christ, it looks like we attempted to feed a small army." He commented, in awe. "And failed."

"Come in here doofus." Erica called endearingly. "We're going to be watching Iron Man 2."

Stiles came into the living room to find Lydia on Jackson's lap in the armchair Derek had vacated earlier. Somehow, tons of blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows appeared in the middle of the room. Everyone else was in the basic same position. Derek had his arms held out expectantly, so Stiles flopped back down between his legs and snuggled up again. Derek wrapped his arms around him and leaned backwards.

Someone, presumably Lydia or Jackson as they were the closest to the lamp, hit the lights. Erica pointed the remote and pressed play. The movie played and Tony, with all his sass, ruled. As usual.

The group eventually began to doze off. One by one, they filed down onto the mess of bedding on the floor, pulling a few comfortable things to themselves, but generally staying in the same jumbled mess of sleep and comfort.

"Natasha is such a bad ass." Stiles commented sleepily as he watched the red head fight. They were the only ones still awake. Jackson and Lydia had left about twenty minutes ago, and everyone else had migrated down into the pit of sleep.

After dozing off for the third time, Stiles yawned and wiped at his face. Derek turned off the movie and the sudden quiet seemed to press on Stiles's ear drums. He was slightly nervous, now that there was nothing to distract Derek from him. Now he might actually have to say something.

He wasn't good at saying things.

No, that wasn't true. Stiles was very good at saying things, it was just mostly nonsense things that didn't make sense and went on far too long without breathing. He looked down at the Betas who were all in close proximity to one another, all touching in one way or another. They were linked like a big clock or a circuit. Even Allison was included via Scott.

"Why are they sleeping so close?" Stiles asked quietly.

"They're bonding. They're Pack, so they feel the need to be close to each other." Derek explained in a rumbling whisper.

"Oh." Stiles nodded. "So Allison is only included because of Scott?"

"Well… no. She was introduced to us because of Scott, but she's become Pack because of the interactions she's had with us. Sure, Scott is a linking factor, but if they broke up, again, she'd still be pack. And we'd still want her around."

"So is that just what happens with humans? You adopt them?"

Derek laughed silently. "Yeah, I guess. Humans are just as important as wolves are when it comes to a strong Pack. Pack isn't just wolf blood or bite or birth. It's family. That's essentially what Packs are. Big families for support and strength. We protect each other and we don't leave each other behind."

Stiles chuckled.

"What is it?" Derek asked.

"They're your Ohana." Stiles smiled cheesily. Derek just stared at him. "Don't even pretend that you don't understand that reference."

Derek rolled his eyes and gestured to the nest of sleeping people and blankets. "After you?"

It was Stiles's turn to roll his eyes but knelt down and found a comfortable spot by Isaac and Scott. As he settled in, Derek followed, laying next to him and pulling them together so he could hold Stiles. Holy shit. Stiles thought sleepily and happily. Isaac's hand reached out and touched his ankle. Erica's barefoot pressed against Derek's back.

Stiles turned his neck to say goodnight, and Derek met him halfway in a soft kiss.

"Goodnight." Derek's voice came out as a purr.

Stiles shut his eyes. He just might be able to get used to this.

A/N:

Thanks to everyone who has followed and taken an interest in this story. I do think you will want to read A Price, if you want to get the full story. This fic probably will be triggering, so tread carefully. I love all of you.

Also, a great big thank you to Crimson1 for writing one of the best Sterek fics I have read so far. (PS, it's about a witch turning Derek 16 again and how Derek before the fire interacts with the pack versus how he does after the fire)