Derek takes his arm off Stiles' shoulders and the boy sits on the bed. He throws himself back on it, snorting because of the tiredness he is feeling. He doesn't even have the strength to turn his head toward his alarm clock on the counter to see what time it is.
Derek helped him to enter in his room through the window so he wouldn't be noisy going through the front door. This had never happened.
"Listen I-" begins Stiles, but then he regrets it.
It was a long night. Five werewolves intent on defending their lives and the one of their friends against furious hunters and then there he was, just behind them, focused on trying not to step on a sharp rock and rolling on the dirt. He never felt so useless in his entire life. He was only human. Allison was human too, but she was able to take care of herself.
Derek sits on the edge of the bed, with his hands on his lap. His breath is labored like he just made a long run.
"Derek," Stiles calls him. Derek doesn't turn his head. "Derek, I think I love you." he says.
Stiles thinks this for a little time. In the beginning, he was unsure. Then he was scared. And now he's certain. He loves him, like he neved loved anybody, and he doens't feel stupid for telling him. Stiles frowns and sits up reaching the edge of the bed beside Derek.
"Stiles," Derek closes his eyes in concentration, like he is looking for the right words.
"I'm serious. I'm sure of it. Please." Stiles begs and searches for his eyes. Derek finally looks at him. They stay quiet, talking in silence. Derek raises a hand on Stiles' chest, on the left.
"I love you." Stiles repeats.
"I know." The wolf holds the boy's bloodied shirt "But a lot of people would kill the alpha's mate."
And then he gets up, leaving a chaste kiss, just brushing his lips against the corner of Stiles' mouth. He reaches the window quietly.
Stiles, anyway, still feels the heat of Derek's hand on his heart.