"So? What do you think?" Stiles asked happily, spreading his arms and gesturing around the empty apartment. It was the nicest one they'd looked at. It didn't matter that it would be a struggle to afford. Derek had already vetoed every apartment more reasonably in his price range. "Even has all the amenities: pool, laundry, weight room. Pretty good, right?"

"No," Derek said flatly, not even bothering to make a full inspection. The leasing agent took a step forward, ready to make a sales pitch she was certain no one could resist. Stiles waved her off and shook his head. She complied hesitantly.

"What's wrong with this one?" Stiles asked with an exasperated sigh. Derek just stared at him angrily. Stiles threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine." They returned to the leasing office in strained silence and retrieved the IDs they'd handed over before viewing the apartment. Stiles shook the agent's hand politely.

"Thanks for letting us see it. I'd say I'll keep it under consideration but…" he shot Derek a dirty look, "I won't." The woman smiled and nodded awkwardly. The two men returned to Stiles' jeep in silence.

Stiles kept glancing at Derek and sighing as he drove them back to the empty gas station. They sat in silence for a while after Stiles shifted into park. Finally Stiles spoke up,

"Would you just tell me what I should be looking for? I mean I feel like there is no requirement that hasn't been met by a plethora of apartments but obviously you do so… what am I missing?" Derek didn't answer, just sat in the passenger seat looking pissed. Stiles sighed, knowing nothing more was forthcoming. "Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow?" Derek looked at him, eyes gentler now, and nodded. "Okay," Stiles said, nodding as well. Derek got out of the car and headed into his long-term hideout. Stiles watched him go feeling exhausted. This apartment hunting had put a strain on their already strained relationship and he was beginning to feel like he was losing Derek.

They'd been dating for a little over a year now. Derek had gotten used to all the physical ways Stiles showed affection, sometimes even initiating them himself, but there was an emotional intimacy they still lacked. Any time they got too close Derek would back off or pick a fight. Derek spent a fair amount of time at the Stilinski house and even got along with Stiles' dad fairly well, but Derek had never brought him around the pack just to be there and it often made Stiles feel unwanted. Stiles knew Derek was trying but he was beginning to think they couldn't make this work.

The following evening Derek joined the Stilinski men for a rare family dinner. The couple was tense and distant and the meal was awkward for everyone.

"So," Sheriff Stilinski said, breaking the silence, "How's apartment hunting going?" It was the wrong thing to say. The tension increased instantly.

"It would be going better if Derek didn't reject everything we looked at," Stiles answered bitterly. His dad shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, studying his plate intently.

"I didn't realize you were looking at places together," he grunted. Derek stiffened, drawing Stiles' attention.

"No!" Stiles said quickly. "Not like that, no. We're not gonna… live together or anything."

"Oh," the Sheriff replied.

"Yeah, just wanted his opinion. You know, since he'll be there a lot. Probably. Maybe." Derek stared at him.

"And you didn't like any of them?" Derek shifted uncomfortably this time, staring at his plate and moving food around with his fork.

"No," he answered quietly.

"You didn't like any apartments in Beacon Hills, not as places to live, but as places to drop by for a visit?" Derek looked up at him, somewhat guarded but mostly just lost. He didn't answer. "What's really going on here, Son?" Stiles dad asked in full parenting mode. Derek flinched at the epithet. Stiles started, he'd been avoiding thinking about any deeper meaning behind Derek's hatred of the apartments.

"I just didn't think they were good enough," Derek said calmly. Sheriff Stilinski just gave him a look, calling him on the lie without uttering a word. Derek's expression hardened, he turned his head left and right as if looking for an escape, and let out a deep, annoyed breath. "I don't want to talk about this," he said warningly. They sat in silence for a while, the Sheriff and Derek warring over who would relent first and Stiles thinking up a million terrible reasons.

"Are you going to give me a proper answer?" Sheriff Stilinski asked after a while.

"Dad," Stiles started to object.

"You need to discuss this if you're going to fix the problem," his dad replied.

"There's no problem," Derek denied roughly.

"What's wrong with the apartments?"

"Dad, just drop it," Stiles said desperately.

"What's wrong with them?"

"I like it here!" Derek snapped, stunning both Stilinskis into momentary silence.

"Derek?" Stiles asked tenderly, putting a hand on his arm. Derek pulled away from him.

"I like it here with your dad, having dinner or watching T.V. together. This is a home, Stiles, a family! Why isn't that good enough for you?" Stiles looked at him, hurt and understanding in his face.

"Because it's not," Stiles said quietly. He gathered his courage before continuing with determination, "I like this too, all of us together, but it isn't enough. Most of the time Dad's working and it's just me, or me and you – the emotionally stunted asshole. You think when I'm here all alone looking up the complete process of paper making that it feels like home and family? Because let me tell you, it doesn't.

"I want more, Derek. I want my own home and someone that loves me and a thousand kids that keep me busy all the time just loving them. I can't get all of that staying here. I have to start my own life. I need to start my own life. This apartment thing is just a first step. Do you get that?" Stiles explained, searching Derek's expression. "Tell me you understand." Derek just looked at him, fury not abated in the slightest.

"I don't," he said coldly, standing. "I'm going home." He started toward the door and Stiles went after him.

"Derek wait," Stiles pleaded. Derek stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

"Good night Stiles." And he left. Stiles wanted to chase after him, to work everything out, but he couldn't seem to move. He stood there for a moment, heart breaking, before he crumpled to the floor, gasping for air as the tears came. Derek's voice echoed in his head, 'Good night' sounding painfully like 'goodbye'.

Stiles realized vaguely that he was having a panic attack but he couldn't find the strength to fight it. He felt his father's arms close around him and his voice whispering soothingly. It helped; his breath came a little easier. Stiles clung desperately to his father.

"I'm sorry," he cried. "I didn't mean it. This is enough; you're enough. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," his dad replied, kissing the top of his head. "I understand."

Stiles didn't get an apartment in the end. He still wanted to start his own life and his own family, but the fight with Derek had halted his resolve. Derek didn't come by anymore or answer Stiles' phone calls and when Stiles broke down and tried to find him at his place Derek's things were gone. There was one awkward afternoon where they ran into each other at a gas station. Derek stood beside his Camaro pumping his gas and looking murderous as Stiles climbed out of the jeep. Stiles let him have his space, not waving or smiling, just pumping his own gas. Two perfect strangers to anyone who looked. Stiles jumped slightly when he heard the pump click on Derek's side. It only ached a little when he drove away.

Two months they didn't say a word to each other. Then one day there was an insistent knocking at the front door and Stiles opened it to find Derek standing on the porch.

"Derek," Stiles sighed.

"Stiles," Derek replied, the slightest hint of a question in his tone.

"Come in," Stiles answered, moving so that Derek could step past him. Stiles lead him into the living room. The younger man flopped onto the couch. He had no idea what was coming but he was going to be comfortable when it came. Derek stood at the opposite end of the sofa looking more nervous and awkward than Stiles would have believed possible. He didn't say anything.

"As big an improvement acknowledging each other is, I'm gonna need a little dialogue Derek. You didn't exactly leave on a clear note you know." Derek looked at him and nodded but still didn't say anything. After a while Stiles sighed and gestured for Derek to join him on the couch. Derek barely hesitated before sinking down next to him. Stiles was surprised when the werewolf pulled him against his chest. Derek breathed Stiles in deeply.

"What was it about Derek? Why were we fighting, because I really don't know?"

"I don't want you to get an apartment," Derek answered.

"Yeah, I got that much. Is that it? Is that really the only reason you were mad at me?"

"I don't like apartments. Laura and I had one in New York. They're crowded, impersonal, and loud. And they smell from too many people passing through."

"Werewolf problems," Stiles sighed.

"And I don't want you to live alone. I don't think you can handle it. It isn't like living here when your dad isn't home. It still feels like family here even when no one else is around, but an apartment won't. You'd be alone Stiles, completely."

"Okay, those are valid reasons for being anti-apartment. But I have reasons too, reasons I could have explained better if you had just talked to me. But you didn't, Derek, you just… left me."

"It was easier than trying to talk about my feelings, easier than thinking about what was really bothering me. You push me Stiles. You're never satisfied with what I give you."

"That's not true. It was Dad that wouldn't let it go; I was all for pretending things were fine."

"For how long?" Derek asked.

"For… a while… maybe," Stiles answered unconvincingly.

"And then you would have pushed me, just like your dad did. So I left, I went somewhere you wouldn't find me."

"But you're here now right? So… what made you come back?" Derek let out a long, deep sigh and Stiles wondered if he really was pushing Derek. He started to sit up, an apology on his lips, but Derek pulled him back firmly, breathing him in again.

"I missed you," Derek said after a pause. His tone was dark and quiet and it struck Stiles that he didn't want to admit it. Stiles swallowed hard, it was an enormous admission for Derek.

"I missed you too," Stiles replied, just as quietly, trying to encourage Derek to continue without actually asking for more. Derek took a deep breath. He pulled one arm from around Stiles and shifted slightly, pulling something from his jacket pocket.

"I made a decision," Derek said calmly but Stiles, lying against his chest, felt the increase in his heartbeat. The werewolf was holding a small silver key in front of him; he took it hesitantly.

"The key to my new apartment?" Stiles asked, uncertain.

"To our new house," Derek answered. "So I can't run away anymore."

Stiles was dumbstruck. This was so much more than anything Derek had ever done. The werewolf did fine responding to things Stiles initiated, was incredibly affectionate when he lost himself in the moment, but he was cold when he had to think about his feelings. He was afraid of being committed to anyone, even his pack, and so backed off whenever he became aware of how close others were getting.

But he had thought about this. For two months Derek had thought about what Stiles wanted from life and what he himself wanted from Stiles. And he'd decided to move forward with the younger man, to buy a house, to live together. He'd decided to commit.

"It's two bedrooms," Derek said. One for each of them, Stiles understood. But it was enough; it was more than enough. Stiles turned in Derek's arms, burying his face in the older man's shoulder and crying because he was so happy. He didn't say 'I love you' even though he felt it. He knew Derek wasn't there yet, but for the first time he knew Derek would get there, given enough time.