The huge expanse of green that Stiles was ambling over was practically deserted. A few couples sat under trees or on benches, occasionally a jogger passed by on the track to his left, but otherwise the place was peaceful, just how Stiles wished his brain was. The thing was flying all over the place, thoughts bouncing from one side to another as he tried to envisage the meeting. In the distance he could see the towering figure of Derek, and gulped as he felt his heart beat increase.

He was so tall, so dark, so handsome. Broad shoulders, wrapped in their usual leather jacket, supported his neck, veins rising from under the surface out every now and then as he tensed, clearly as anxious about this meeting as Stiles was. His heavy, broad, defined jaw, which was covered with a slight coating of dark stubble extending to the edges of his defined cheekbones, was set in a hard line, and his relatively thin upper lip and fuller bottom lip were pressed together, moving every now and then as he ground his teeth together in anticipation. The slowly sinking sun was behind him, and his muscular frame was casting a ten foot shadow across the emerald grass. Stiles felt his knees go weak, and had to steady himself on the thick trunk of a chestnut.

Seeing him like this made Stiles feel hopelessly inadequate. He had some issues with his own thin frame when he was in school, but he had overcome them over the last few years, especially once he realised that he wasn't that much thinner than many other guys on the lacrosse team at all. His abdominal muscles were clearly defined if he tensed, his arms were thin but strong with taut definition, and his legs were long and lithe. Taking a sharp intake of the murky evening air, he continued towards Derek with an increased vigour, ready for whatever happened next. He didn't know what he was expecting; at the bottom of his stomach thoughts still remained about how Derek might just decide he didn't like Stiles any more, or how he had met some equally muscular, dark handsome guy and was going to try it with him instead. But there was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to finally find out how Derek felt, that is if Derek could get the words about before his mood changed and he ran away, like he did so often; maybe not physically running, but definitely running emotionally.

"Hi." Stiles scratched at his crew cut hair awkwardly, eyes anywhere but on Derek's. He settled for a spot on his arm instead.

"Hi." Derek said, his deep voice almost breaking. He quickly cleared his throat, making sure there would be no more awkward breaks in his voice during this conversation, what was he, fifteen?

"So-o-o. Well this is fun." Stiles smiled up at him, trying to overcome the tension, but not really succeeding. He resisted the urge to rant just to fill the silence, but after a few seconds of staring into Derek's eyes, which were giving nothing away, he realised he was going to have to say something. "Did you have some time to think then?" He settled his lanky frame onto the ground, extending his arms behind him and resting on his palms, stretching his legs out in front of him and signalling for Derek to sit next to him, or anywhere. "I waited." He added, becoming engrossed with a blade of grass which he started rolling around between his bony fingers.

"Sorry I left again the other morning." Derek said, narrowing his eyes to block the sun, which was peeking through two skyscrapers.

"It's okay – I get it. Well, I kind of don't get it which is why I'm here, you know to find out, so I can get it. If that makes sense." Stiles let out another breath. The edge of Derek's hand – his little finger – touched Stiles' as he moved a little closer to the younger boy next to him. The slight touch of Derek's skin reassured Stiles, his heartbeat slowing.

"I told you the other day – I don't talk." A smile was almost visible on the corner of his lips, "but I'll try. Um -" he ran his other hand, the one that wasn't rested against Stiles', through his hair, looking at the ground.

"I like you Stiles, and I just never thought I would- wait that came out wrong, not that you're not good looking, I think that you really are -" Stiles could see Derek tensing up, getting frustrated. He moved his hand fully on top of Derek's, winding their fingers together and feeling relief wash over him as he saw Derek calm down.

"Slow down, man."

"Yeah, sorry. Uh... Well I never thought I would like someone like this, but I've told you before I never really liked anyone before, I've never even really had many close friends before, and now..." He scratched at his head, trying to bring the words out, trying to verbalise the myriad of feelings he had for Stiles. "The way I feel about you – it scares me Stiles. It makes me feel like I'm not in control, and I'm always in control, I d-"

"You don't like it. What can I do if you don't like how you feel when you're with me?" Stiles asked dejectedly, attempted to finish Derek's sentence.

"No, Stiles. That's what's so confusing about it, I do like it. I feel like a real person for a change, and it just sounds so stupid because I never even thought of you like that until I put you to bed the other night, you were so -" he looked down, the tiniest blush emerging on his cheeks "- sweet." He shuffled nervously, wishing Stiles would say something, but Stiles' mouth was open, his eyes wide, listening properly – for once – to everything Derek was saying. "The things you were saying, you said I was hot, and thanked me for helping you, and how nice I was under my 'big bad wolf persona'" a half smile grazed his lips. "And now I feel like I'm in a cheesy romance movie or something. But I like it." Stiles knew he jaw was hanging open, but he couldn't close it.

"I – uh, thanks?" Stiles saw Derek's eyes widen in momentary vulnerability at Stiles' words, "No – I mean, really, thanks for telling me. This is what I wanted to actually here you say!" He gave Derek a playful shove.

"Well now that I told you, do you forgive me for being so weird?" Derek looked at him, in hope.

"Of course, idiot."

"We don't have to like, sit around talking about our feelings all the time now do we? Because I really don't think I could do that." The air of tension had vanished now, both of them were smiling. Stiles had gotten everything he wanted and more from this conversation, he found himself thanking Emily mentally for drunk dialling Derek, who knew if they even would have spoke again had she not?

"Course not, that's lame." Stiles rested his head against Derek's shoulder, happy that Derek's features were losing their vulnerability and returning to big bad boy wolf guy. They did, however, soften whenever Stiles caught his eye.

The two of them sat like that for a while, it was actually romantic, if they imagined that Midtown wasn't blocking their view, they could picture the sun setting, instead they just looked out into the city, which h was arguably a better view than the sun anyway. Stiles' eyelids began to droop again, as they often did when he was just sat like this with Derek, the guy made him feel comfortable and safe, he could stay like this forever, at least definitely until morning.

"Come on, I'll take you home." Derek said, jumping up from the ground, extending a hand to help Stiles up, which he gladly accepted.

They held hands almost every minute of their walk and subway ride back to Stiles', not speaking much, they were both tired, but exchanging many a lingering look. Stiles felt like he never wanted to let go of his hand, and wished they were walking the entire way, just so he could have more time with Derek. The awkward air Stiles had usually felt the need to fill was now completely clear, the two of them knew exactly where the other stood and couldn't be happier with their positions.

Before long, too soon for both of them, they were outside Stiles' apartment building, looking at each other, wondering who was going to make the first move. Derek took the initiative at the same moment Stiles did, their heads colliding too fast – they bashed skulls.

"Jesus! What's that thing made of, concrete?" Stiles laughed as he rubbed his forehead.

"Shit, sorry." Derek laughed too, his face breaking into a smile that Stiles had never thought he would see. "Let's try again." Derek moved his head towards Stiles, who inched forward himself, slowly this time – no more collisions. Stiles loved the feeling of Derek's stubble brushing against his face, tickling his own smooth skin. For a few seconds their lips just stayed on each others, as if they were kissing their mothers – not that either of them had any – until Derek slowly opened his mouth, his tongue extending and touching Stiles' closed lips, lips that soon opened, his own tongue coming forth and clashing with Derek's. Derek was gentler than Stiles would have expected, but he loved it – there was a time and place for Derek to exert his big, manly, wolfy dominance, but this moment was softer, sweeter, their arms wrapped around each other, holding one another close. Breaking away, they both smiled – Stiles his usual grin, and Derek a smaller, but unusual unguarded smile, his teeth actually showing. The moment was completely perfect. As Stiles turned to Derek, taking his hand off his waist, moving to enter his building, a transvestite in a huge feather headpiece stuck her head out of a taxi, black lips wide in unabashed laughter,

"You go hunnies!" She screamed, cackling into the wind as the yellow cab roared off down the street. They both looked at each other and burst out laughing.