Stiles came over to me and grabbed my hand.

"Come on. We're going to Derek. We are gonna figure out what's going on with you right now."

We walked out of the locker room, through the halls toward the school's exit, and to the parking lot. We got into Stiles' car and he pulled off, headed for Derek's hideout.

After we arrived at the abandoned building, we walked inside to the sight of a shirtless Derek doing pull-ups.

"What are you doing here?" asked Derek.

"Well, that's not a very warm welcome." I responded.

"I'm just not used to seeing you here unless I need you."

"Fix my boyfriend," demanded Stiles.

"What? Your boyfriend?" asked Derek, perplexed.

"Yeah. Scott." Stiles said proudly, pointing to me.

"Oh...oh," said Derek as he began to understand that Stiles and I were in a relationship. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's broken."

"Broken?" asked Derek.

"Uh, let me elaborate," I interjected, giving Stiles a look in response to his questionable way of explaining my condition. "I have been going a little...crazy over Stiles lately."

"So, you're madly in love. Good for you, but it has nothing to do with you being a werewolf." Derek went back to doing his pull-ups.

"Well, that's the thing. I pinned Jackson to the wall because he shoved him earlier."

"That sounds normal. Wouldn't you have done that for Allison if he had done that to her? As a matter of fact, you would probably still do it for her."

"Yeah, but...this is different. I just know it."

"I'm gonna need more proof, then."

"Okay. How about this? What about when my eyes lit up when you told him to go home last time?"

"Yeah, but that was just one time."

"They were yellow again when I had Jackson against the wall."

For once during our conversation, Derek looked intrigued. "Really?"

I nodded in response.

"Well, I may have a theory, but I'm gonna need to run some...tests."

"Tests?" I asked, hoping he wasn't planning on causing me any grief.

"Yeah. I'll let you know how they go."

"And when are you gonna start them?"

"I'll let you know."

I rolled my eyes at his vague answer and headed back out of the hideout. Stiles and I got into his car.

"Well, he wasn't much help," said Stiles as he drove away from the building.

"Yeah. I know."

"My place?" he asked.

"Sure."

We arrived at Stiles' house. We made our way to his bedroom after we got inside. I laid on his bed, wondering what Derek's diagnosis would be.

"Are you still thinking about what Derek said?" asked Stiles.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"You had your 'deep in thought' face on. It's really funny."

I smiled. "I love you."

He smiled back. "I love you too." He came and laid in the bed next to me, laying his head on my chest and playing with one of the buttons on his sweater that I was wearing.

"You know, Stiles, I realize something. I had been making excuses to say that my relationship with Allison wasn't going well."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, when I said that having to hide our relationship was wearing on me, it wasn't wearing on me. I was just subconsciously adding that to the list of reasons that our relationship supposedly wasn't going well."

"So, why were you doing that?"

"So I could be with you."

I saw Stiles eyes become slightly watery. He gave me a gentle, love-filled kiss on the lips. "Do you really mean that?"

"Yeah and that's not all. When I felt like I was neglecting you, it wasn't because you were my best friend, it was because I wanted to be with you. Like, when I held the door open for you, it all makes sense now. Even when I started feeling sick while I was shopping for a gift to give to Allison on the night of the bonfire, it was because I knew, deep inside myself, that I should have been buying a gift for you. Looking back on all of these things, it makes me realize; I used to think that my love for you and Allison was equal. It's not." I chuckled lightly at what I was about to confess to Stiles. "I used to have this really corny theory about Allison. It was that she was on an entirely different level than other girls. Like, that was why a dork like me was able to handle being her boyfriend: because she was special. I even used to call it 'The Rule of Allisons'."

"Kinda like how I said I didn't like guys, but I loved Scotts?"

"Yeah. Kinda like that," I answered endearingly. We were staring at each other for a few seconds. I slowly moved my head toward his. I captured his lips in a passionate kiss. I softly placed my hand on the back of his head as we kissed. He repositioned his body over mine. I placed my hands under his shirt, around his lower back, and started to rub up and down his back slowly.

There was a knock on the door. Stiles quickly jumped off of me, fixing his clothes. He opened the door to his father.

"Yes, Dad?" he asked, looking obviously flustered.

"Uh, I was just seeing if Scott would maybe wanna stay for dinner."

"Uh, sure," I said from Stiles bed, trying to lay in a nonchalant way to further disguise that Stiles and I had just come down from the high of a heated make-out session.

"Okay," Stiles' father said, looking at us suspiciously.

Stiles' father walked away and Stiles closed the door. He came and laid next to me heavily on his bed.

"Him, I am not ready to tell about us yet. It is gonna be so weird when I tell him," he said, sighing.

"Yeah. I know," I said in response.

Half of an hour later, I was laying on Stiles bed watching TV and Stiles was browsing the internet on his laptop when his father told us through the closed door that dinner was ready. Stiles and I looked at each other, hoping that his father did not find our behavior from earlier suspicious. We both left Stiles' bedroom and proceeded to walk down the staircase, and into his dining room. I saw bags from a Chinese take-out restaurant on the table.

"My dad's not much of a cook, so we prefer to eat out," Stiles whispered to me as we approached the dining room table. We awkwardly took our seats.

"So, Scott are you Still the star of the lacrosse team," Stiles father asked as he spooned rice onto my plate.

"Yeah. I suppose so."

"Yeah. Last time I came to one of your games, you and Jackson dominated, huh?"

"Yep," I responded, smiling nervously.

"You look a little tense," Mr. Stilinski noticed.

"Oh. It's nothing. Just...nervous about the big game coming up, now that you've got me thinking about it."

"Oh, kid. I'm sure you'll have it all under control."

The reality was that I hadn't had anything under control for a long time. What I was actually nervous about, though, was the sly look on Stiles' father's face. I could tell he knew...something.

After we were done eating, I stood to take my plate to the kitchen.

"Oh. No, no, no," Stiles' father stopped me. "Don't worry about that."

I awkwardly placed the plate back down onto the table. I was used to taking the plate to the kitchen myself whenever I ate at Stile's house. His father was behaving oddly, compared to his usual demeanor. Stiles tapped my hand as he walked past me, signaling for me to follow him. As I was walking behind Stiles out of the dining room, Mr. Stilinski said something: "Hey, Scott?"

"Yes?" I asked, anxious to know what he was about to close his interrogation disguised as a dinner with.

"Nice sweater."

"Thanks," I responded with a smile, happy that it was something innocent.

He nodded once as a way of saying "you're welcome".

I proceeded to follow Stiles up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Well, that went better than expected," I said to Stiles cheerily as I plopped down onto his bed.

"What!?" he asked loudly, surprising me with his tone.

"What?" I didn't understand why he seemed upset. "He didn't say anything that even hinted toward him knowing about...us," I said smirking.

"Nice sweater?" Stiles asked, repeating what his father had said to me.

"Yeah. It was an innocent compliment. What's the big deal?"

"Scott, that's my sweater you're wearing."