A/N: Thank you guys for all the reviews, favorites and follows :) I really appreciate that.

Chapters will be updated weekly.

Summary: Not every story has a happy ending. Stiles and Derek's certainly didn't. Can a person live without the other half of their soul?

I own nothing.

Chapter 2

It's been three years.

Three long, exhausting, hopeless years.

Three years of constant search, and still no clue of a sign of Stilinski anywhere.

And Derek was starting to lose hope.

His family helped him for a whole week after his eighteen birthday, calling every Slavic friend they had and digging into sources they almost never use. And nothing. Zip. Nada. Not even a whisper.

Three months ago, though, after a long, fruitless search, they finally had the chance to find a mate-less guy in Poland with a similar name and an acceptable age. However, after flying all the way there with his parents and sisters, Derek found out the man used to spell his name in a slightly different way than the mark on his wrist was.

They flew back to Beacon Hills, disappointed and depressed. Talia tried to encourage her son, getting her sister to talk to him and tell him how she found her soulmate after such a long search and how it was totally worth it. But even aunt Julia's hopeful stories and uncle Peter's dark, cruel jokes couldn't cheer Derek up, and he drowned himself in his studies, dividing his time between lectures and S.P.A.I.N only.

They were no closer to find Stilinski than they were three years ago, when Derek first saw the insanely long name forming on his skin.

It felt terrible.

It was just like aunt Julia used to say. The emptiness inside him was unbearable. He ached for a man he'd never met, he longed to kiss lips he'd never tasted. He wanted to touch him, wanted to look at him and tell him how much he meant to him... but he'd never even seen him. Derek didn't know anything about him, but the feeling of loss was there all the same.

So when the phone rang one morning, three months after the incident in Poland, Derek didn't even look up. He kept his nose buried in his books and notes, reading about brain functions and behaviors. He heard his younger sister yelling something, and then his mother picked up, cutting the shrill ringing sound off.

It took two and a half minutes for the scream to reach his ears, and he jumped in his chair, eyes widening in alert as he threw his pen aside and scrambled to his feet, running down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Mom!" He threw the kitchen's door open, voice tight with worry and body tense and prepared to fight. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Talia Hale just stood there by the stove, a phone in her hand and tears in her eyes. She was smiling - no, scratch that - beaming at him, making an urgent motion with her hand to usher him to come closer. She mumbled something into the receiver, then covered it with her palm and looked up into her son's eyes.

"Honey," She said, her voice choked with emotion. Derek tensed, frowning. He'd never seen his mother this happy, this open. She was always the perfect image of silent balance, rarely letting her emotions go.

"Mom...?" He asked hesitantly.

Talia's smile grew.

"We found him."

Derek was shocked. He didn't know what to say or do. To think the Stilinskis were here in Beacon Hills the whole time was too overwhelming for him. For three years - three years - he's been searching for him. And finally, finally finding him here of all places - it couldn't be a coincidence. This time it must be him.

His name was Stiles, his mother said. Of course, they all knew what his real name was, but Talia told him he preferred to be called Stiles, as this was a much less embarrassing nickname than his birth name was.

So there they were, on their way to the Stilinskis house. The drive wasn't really that long, but to Derek every minute felt like an hour, stretching and spreading so agonizingly slow. He couldn't sit still.

He knew Stiles' father was the town's Sheriff, which made him want to slap himself repeatedly on the head. He should have guessed that, right? Because, come on, the name 'Stilinski' was engraved into his skin for three years now, he should have connected the dots by now by himself. But of course not. Of course it was Stiles who contacted him, exactly three days after getting his soulmark. It was humiliating.

The drive was silent. Laura and Cora both sat on either side of him, quiet and buzzing with barely contained energy. They kept giving each other meaningful looks over his head, communicating silently in excitement. His parents, too, didn't say a word. They both didn't dare getting their hopes too high, just in case it was another unfortunate mistake.

But Derek was sure. He was sure the moment he first heard that nickname - that terribly stupid nickname. He felt the way it rolled on his tongue as he repeated after his mother when she first said it. Felt how true it was, how warm and how right... it felt like home.

Derek snapped out of his thoughts the second he noticed they started to slow down. His father pulled the car into a stop along the sidewalk, killing the engine. It was so quiet now, without the steady dull roar of the car, and Derek could almost hear his heart beating like mad in his chest, as if trying to break free and run away. They were finally here.

His family started pouring out of the car, with him following last. He slammed the door shut behind him, then stopped and looked up dreadfully. His heart was racing, his throat dry. Breathing was suddenly a bit harder than it normally was as he stared up at the normal-looking house. It looked so ordinary, so casual... but Derek knew that inside, was the most important person in the whole world. Waiting for him.

As if his thoughts were loud enough for the whole street to hear, the front door suddenly opened with a loud 'thud' and out was running the strangest young man Derek have ever seen.

He was tall and lanky - just like the faceless shape in his dreams, blank face suddenly taking features and colors - with broad and muscular shoulders, an inch narrower than Derek's. Derek released a breath he didn't know he was holding, barely noting that his family took a step back to give them some privacy.

Stiles stopped in such a suddenness he almost bumped head first into Derek's chest. He stood there, less than a single step between them, and stared at him, wide eyed and shocked as if he didn't really believe Derek was standing there. Derek returned a similar expression, his lips parted in shock and awe and such a desperate longing he actually felt his hands shaking.

Derek had no idea how long they were standing there in complete silence, drinking in each other's features with desperate thirst. Derek couldn't look away. From his whisky brown eyes to his messy brown hair and countless tiny moles that dotted his pale skin, Stiles Stilinski was beautiful.

And judging by the way he was staring at Derek, lips parted and chest heaving with sharp and fast breaths, he was thinking the same thing.

"H-Hi." He breathed out, and his voice was hoarse and sweet and made Derek's heart do a tiny dance.

"Hi." Derek choked back.

Stiles smiled.

"Do you want to come in?" He asked. Derek felt his face breaking into a huge smile he was pretty sure would stay there for the rest of his life.

"Hell yeah."

It was the most... electric dinner of Derek's entire life.

Sheriff Stilinski was sitting right there across the table with that weird expression on his face, like a hawk watching his son's every move as if Stiles was a fragile china doll that could break into pieces if Derek only so much as touched him. He also invited Stiles' best friend to eat with them, a tan and dark haired kid with an uneven jaw and warm brown eyes, perhaps to keep another eye on the two. Derek was pretty sure his name was Scott.

Stiles' mother was nowhere to be seen, he noticed, and whenever the subject came anywhere near that, Derek could feel a faint pinge of fear that was not his invading his heart. Realizing it was Stiles', Derek figured it was a sensitive matter, and every time the subject came up he just kicked Laura under the table to help change the direction of the conversation. It worked quite well so far.

Derek and Stiles themselves took no part in the actual conversation, and only kept staring at each other from across the table, playing with the food on their plates without actually eating any of it. Derek didn't think he could, anyway. He felt some kind of a pleasant nausea turning his stomach, like the one you get after a really big laugh or when you speed up on a rollercoaster. It was a good nausea, and Derek could practically feel how his heart was swelling in his chest every time Stiles gave him a shy smile from across the table.

His parents were polite enough and even made the extremely serious Sheriff laugh once of twice, while Laura and Cora more or less cornered Scott and asked him all sorts of questions about his best friend. Derek listened to their interrogation with only half of his attention, torn between his desire to learn everything he could about Stiles, and staring dumbly at his face for as long as he could get away with it without coming off as creepy or an idiot.

It wasn't long before desert was about to be served and everyone hurried to offer the Sheriff help with clearing the table, making a lot of noise and apologies. In the commotion, Derek noticed the way Stiles was looking at him, surrounded by at least three Hale members. He jerked his head once, the look in his eyes telling Derek everything he needed to know. Quickly glancing at the Sheriff - who was busy reassuring Talia he had enough help already and that there was no need for her to get up - he made sure no one looked at his direction, then nodded at Stiles and hurried towards him, letting the younger lead the way.

He followed Stiles quickly as the other climbed up the stairs in an impressive silence, hurrying towards a large gray-ish bedroom Derek could only guess was Stiles'. The boy closed the door quietly behind him - not before listening in for a few seconds to make sure they really did leave unnoticed - then straightened up and turned around, leaning against the closed door with a sheepish smile and a nervous glance.

Standing in the middle of the room, Derek suddenly felt very self-conscious. He shifted from leg to leg, chewing the inside of his cheek as he wrecked his brain in thoughts of what he should do with his stupid, stupid hands, that currently were just dangling uselessly on his sides. He must look like an idiot, Derek thought bitterly. Comforted that as least Stiles looked just as fidgety.

"So." The sudden loudness of Stiles' voice in the quiet room made Derek jump out of his skin, and he would never admit that, but a small gasp also left his lips when he did.

Stiles snorted.

"Whoa, calm down." He said, his smile no longer so shy and nervous. Well, Derek thought in relief. At least my stupidity was a good ice-breaker.

"Sorry." Derek said, his heart pounding.

"So..." Stiles said again, pulling at the word hesitantly. His right hand restlessly moving to wrap around his left wrist, where Derek could see his own name written in his own lean and elegant handwriting. It felt so... bizzare.

"So?" He repeated after him, not knowing what to do.

Stiles looked down, his embarrassment and awkwardness coming back. He was shifting nervously, his hand shooting up to scratch the back of his head as he looked back up, glancing anywhere but directly at Derek.

"I don't know," He finally admitted, his beautiful brown eyes wandering up until they fell on Derek's, and they both drew sharp, matching breaths. "I-I just thought- I wanted to be alone, for a bit. With- with you, I mean." He stammered, his eyes wide.

"It's, um, okay." Derek mumbled back, watching in fascination as Stiles moved away from the door, slowly walking towards him.

He was standing very close now, closer than before when Stiles ran towards him outside. Derek could feel the warmth of his skin radiating, could feel his breath so close he could almost taste it. And God, how he wanted to. Those pale, perfectly shaped lips were agonizingly close, and Derek could barely control himself.

Then, before he could process what was going on, Stiles' left hand reached out and firmly grabbed Derek's wrist, long and pale fingers closing around on his skin.

The moment their skin touched for the very first time, Derek could feel the way warmth suddenly burst from the spot Stiles was still touching, exploding from the tips of his fingers and rushing through his veins, bubbling through his whole body. He felt as if his heart was swelling, filling his chest with something he'd never felt before.

He felt...

Complete.

It seemed like Stiles was going through the exact same thing, judging by the soft, startled gasp he let out. His lips were parted, whisky brown eyes wide and staring straight into Derek's green ones. Butterflies fluttered inside his stomach, making his heart race and his throat close on nothing.

"Stiles-" He choked out, but he didn't get to finish. There were suddenly soft lips attacking his own, closing and pulling him forwards as his brain still tried to figure out what was going on.

Stiles was kissing him - kissing him - in such a way that left them both breathless and flushed, knees weak. Stiles' hand was still gripping Derek's wrist - right over that ridiculously long name - while his other hand rested on the small of Derek's back, holding him firmly close. Somehow during the kiss - Derek had no idea how or when - his own arms wrapped themselves around Stiles' waist, and now he was rubbing his hands across his back, his rough fingers sneaking under the boy's shirt, trailing over soft and tight skin.

Stiles shuddered.

"Derek-" He gasped.

But this time, it was Derek's turn to shut him up with a kiss. They'd have plenty of time to talk later - forever, actually. But right now? This feeling right here, with Stiles in his arms, was the best thing Derek could ever imagine.

And it was enough.

A/N: Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you think :)