A much shorter chapter I know, I decided to post it so soon after Chapter 4 because of that exact reason. Hope everyone is enjoying this Stiles/Derek build up. :)

Derek looked tired, but good. The slight darkness around his eyes from his sleepless night suited him, and even though many passers by had thought he looked pretty sinister, Stiles thought it gave him an air of vulnerability – he was human too, he got tired like everyone else. Well, he wasn't human, but he still had some left in him.

"Come in." Stiles stepped aside to let him pass, enjoying the feeling of the leather brushing against his bare chest as he passed, and the warmth Derek was radiating.

Stiles sat on the brown chair, while Derek stood, a little awkwardly, in the centre of Stiles' mess, looking around in shock at the state of the apartment.

"You know you'll get rats if you don't clean this up." Derek commented, trying to break the tension.

"Thanks – I'll take it under advisement." Stiles replied dryly, his eyes on the floor.

"Why did you get so mad? Wa-"

"-why did I get so mad?" Stiles' fury was returning, "maybe because we had a great time, I was hoping that you liked me since I ran into you at that bar, and then you finally show me outright that you do, holding my hand all through the movie, across the road, all through our food, then you just let go and become angry wolf guy again, for no reason!" Stiles stared at Derek, panting a little – he had forgotten to take breath breaks.

"I was going to say that didn't come out right, I get why your mad..." Derek looked down at the ground, kicking at one of Stiles' jumpers aimlessly. "I don't know why I let go. I just felt... argh, I hate this." Derek turned around, pacing up and down the tiny room. "I don't talk about feelings. It's not who I am, but I don't want you to be mad at me..."

"Then tell me why." Stiles muttered. "It's okay if you don't like me, I mean you're kind of sending mixed messages but I get it. Whatever."

"No! That's the whole problem, I do like you." Derek looked at Stiles as if he was someone he didn't even know – Stiles had warped the whole thing into another realm when all Derek had been thinking about since his breakfast with Stiles was Stiles.

"Well, good." Stiles gave Derek a slight smile, though it never reached his big brown eyes, which were now staring up at Derek, waiting for an answer.

"I mean- it's..."

"Is it because I'm a guy?" Stiles asked, genuinely interested in Derek's answer.

"What?" A frown furrowed his brow. "No, no. That's not even important – I've just never actually liked someone, I mean, beyond sex. Not that I don't like you in a sexual way, its- argh!" Another growl escaped his snarled mouth. "Can you pull that fucking sheet up while I'm trying to talk? Couldn't you have gotten dressed? Jesus." He ran his hands through his hair as Stiles pulled the sheet, which had been piled around his waist with his torso and left leg exposed, over his shoulders, pulling it close around him.

"Maybe we should take a break from this conversation." Stiles said, his eyes wide. Derek was clearly getting worked up, and the last thing he wanted was for him to do some sort of anger-morph in the middle of his apartment, he'd tear the place apart, as well as Stiles too, probably.

"Yeah – yeah." Derek visibly calmed, his thoughts, which had been ricocheting around his head like rockets, now had time to process, so he could really work out what he wanted to say next.

"Let's just put a movie on." Stiles headed to the kitchen, pulling his laptop out of his bag and setting it up on the brown chair. He piled the cushions and duvet from his bed around the base and back of the opposite wall and sat down as the last movie he watched, The Truman Show, started whirring around in the tray and loading. Derek pressed play before shutting the heavy brown drapes on the two windows, closing the panelled glass door to the bedroom, and sitting down next to Stiles, his breathing still heavy. Stiles was nervous being next to him, but excited. The main thought going through his head as Jim Carey appeared on the screen was that Derek actually liked him – he had said it, outright. No more guess work needed. The guy liked him. Stiles let off his first genuine smile in days, and even a slight laugh. Derek, watching Stiles intently from the corner of his eye, calmed as he saw him smile. He couldn't even explain the feelings that were running through him to himself – he needed time to process them and find the right way to tell Stiles without sounding like an idiot.

"Sorry for, you know, getting angry." Derek said, his head now fully turned to Stiles. It was taking all his self control not to kiss him.

"Me too, and for splashing my meal all over you." Stiles conceded, feeling guilty. While Derek had a lot of self control, Stiles had a fraction of that, and wanted to kiss him just as much as Derek wanted to kiss Stiles, but he knew he shouldn't, not until Derek finished his conversation from earlier. For now, he contented himself with snuggling up to him, letting out a sigh as Derek wrapped an arm around him. Way better than the guy from the subway. He rested his head on the side of his chest, fitting perfectly.

Even though he had practically just woken up, one of Stiles' favourite past times – sleeping – was soon upon him again, his eyes growing weary as the movie progressed, revelling in the comfort he was experiencing by having Derek's arm wrapped around him. He was pressed up to his hard, muscular body, feeling content as he matched his breathing to Derek's, his head rising and falling slightly with every breath Derek took. It was just a few more minutes before sleep came to him, a blissful, content sleep that even the hard wooden flooring he was laid on couldn't combat.

AS his eyelashes fluttered open, Stiles groaned in anguish. He knew the reason he had woken up, the warm body of Derek was gone, instead he was laid sideways on two pillows, his pelvis oddly contorted, legs sticking out at odd angles. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he tried to listen for any noise in the apartment, at least he listened for any noise from the bathroom, which was the only room Stiles couldn't see clearly from his position on the floor. Nothing. Throwing the door open just in case Derek hadn't left and was lurking around in there, he let out another groan as he realised his suspicion was right after all, Derek had left. The rage that had consumed him three days ago was far from his mind now, though, his feelings were swayed more to that of resigned interest and hopefulness.

A note was scrawled in Derek's messy handwriting and stuck to the fridge with one of Stiles Beacon Hills fridge magnets that his dad had given him as a little joke before he left for New York, to remember where he came from.

'Sorry I left again, didn't want to wake you, you were so peaceful. I need time to think. Wait for me?'

Stiles' heart lurched as his eyes scanned the page, which had been torn out of one of his notebooks. How could Derek make Stiles turn to jelly with just a few words. Part of it was just seeing Derek open up to him, seeing him smile every now and then, seeing him actually talk, and say sweet things like 'wait for me?'. He loved Derek's authority and power, true, but this side to him was a whole other face of the man, and one he loved equally, if not more, than his dominant side. Wrapping his arms around himself and smiling, Stiles padded to the bedroom to get ready for school, turning his phone to loud, just in case Derek called.

The rest of the day passed by in slow motion as Stiles waited for one of Derek's texts, his eyes scanning his phone every few minutes, though the messages he wanted were never there. He got a few from Emily, one from his dad, and one from Scott back home, but never the one he was waiting for. By the time he got out of his last session of registration week – it was so stupid that he had to go in on a Saturday – at two in the afternoon, Stiles could barely go on. He needed to do something, needed to distract himself from Derek. Maybe he just needed to vent about everything that had happened, and he knew Emily would be up for it. Setting up towards his subway he fished out his phone and tapped out a message,

'what are you doing? Want to hang out?' - 14:07PM. The response was almost instantaneous.

'yeah, at my parents. Meet me at the corner of fifth and 67th.' - 14:09PM. Smiling to himself, Stiles turned around and set off in the opposite direction, headed for another line which would take him to the Upper East Side.