Disclaimer: Nope, don't own.

A/N: Well, it's been a disgustingly long time since I've published anything, but here's my first attempt at a fandom that has quite literally taken over my life. (And I can't find it in me to complain.)

Set at some future point where everyone is happy (for the most part), so aside from the characters in season two, no real spoilers.

"Hey,"

Stiles watched, amusement creeping in, as his friend rooted around under his bed, butt waving in the air and half under the piece of furniture.

"Have you seen my other sneaker?" Scott called back, not pausing in his search.

"Uh, no," he took a cursory glance around the messy room before cautiously picking his way over to the unmade bed. "Can't you sniff it out? Use that enhanced nose of yours? It looks like a hurricane came through here."

"Haven't been home to clean it." Scott emerged from the depths of his bed, confused frown on his face and with apparently no success. "Between Derek's and seeing Allison I barely have time for homework."

"Homework?" He snorted, sobering a little at his friends betrayed look. "Uh, yeah, never mind. But speaking of time, we haven't really had any to hang out- just one on one, y'know?"

Scott's expression turned sheepish and he pushed up and off the floor, standing with a grace Stiles could never hope to have, and with all the side effects, didn't really want.

"Yeah man, I know. Things have just been crazy. But we'll hang out soon- just the two of us. I promise."

"Okay," Stiles agreed easily. "But maybe we could for a bit today? There's something,"

"Scott?" Melissa poked her head in through the open door. "I believe I found something of yours in the bathtub."

She held up a ratty, old trainer- caked in mud. Scott's face lit up and he bounded across the room, grabbing the shoe and pressing a quick kiss to his mother's cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He half hopped, half stumbled his way out of the room as he shoved the other shoe onto his foot. "I'm late to meet Allison! I'll be back later!"

Together they watched him disappear, the door opening and closing downstairs, a moment later.

"Well," Melissa shook her head, turning back to Stiles, still seated on the bed. "One day I'll figure out where he gets his manners from." She paused. "And his attention span. I have to run to the hardware store, Stiles, but you can hang out if you want."

The woman was like a surrogate mother to him, and the McCall house like a second home, but that wasn't what he had been looking for today.

"Nah, its okay. I have some things…to do. In town." He got to his feet and hurried past her, heading for his jeep.

"If you see Scott, tell him to be home for curfew!" She called after him, and then Stiles was out the door.

::

"Lydia, love of my life, apple of my eye, sun in my sky, moon to my stars, um, flower to my trees, you should probably stop me now because,"

"Stiles."

"-I'm seriously running out of comparisons that don't involve Wonder Woman or Lois Lane. Oh."

Lydia levelled him with a long look in the mirror of her vanity. The sheer amount of cosmetics spread out, and carefully arranged before her was mind-boggling, and in his opinion, completely unnecessary. She never needed makeup to look perfect to him.

His crush may have dwindled into a close friendship, but that didn't mean that his appreciation of her beauty (or her mind) had faded.

"Stiles," she repeated, going back to the powders before her. "I'm busy. Jackson will be here soon and I won't be ready. I don't have time for games today."

He winced, pacing the carpet behind her restlessly.

"Yeah, I know- its your one year, congrats by the way, but I needed to talk to someone,"

"Go find Scott." Lydia pursed her lips at the mirror and Stiles would have to be a robot not to stop and stare at the sight. Scratch that- even a robot would appreciate it.

"Uh," he shook himself. "He's busy with Allison."

Lydia hmm'd, carefully selecting a container from before her. To him it looked the same as the six others beside it.

"So I thought, who better to talk to than Lydia Martin?"

"And normally I'd love to gossip with you about your crush on a certain tall, broody alpha,"

Stiles automatically glanced at the window just to be certain said tall, broody alpha wasn't lurking just beyond it and listening in to their conversation. But no. That was really only Stiles' room. And Scott's on the odd occasion that Stiles slept over. Creeper.

"However, today is very important to me. Jackson and I haven't fought all week and he's taking me somewhere new."

"Actually it's not about Derek," he began, still half convinced that just saying the name would summon the man.

"Then I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow." Lydia turned just far enough to see him without the help of the mirror and pointed at her door. "Now out. I have to get changed. I'll text you when I get home."

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it and left without another word, carefully shutting the door behind him.

::

Erica, unfortunately, proved to be less than helpful. He wasn't sure who had given her ping-pong balls, or why, but she sat perched in a tree in the drive way to the Hale house, tossing them at his head.

Boyd glanced up from his textbook when Stiles sat down across from him in the front yard, watching him with a steady gaze and he just couldn't find it in himself to say what was on his mind.

He found Isaac sitting a little ways away, at the edge of the small pond, feet resting in the water and jeans rolled up to his knees.

"Hey." Isaac greeted as Stiles entered the clearing. He motioned towards the ground next to him in invitation. He accepted easily, settling in with his legs crossed, leaning back on his hands.

"Man, this place is nice." He murmured. Isaac huffed his agreement. "Kind of makes it hard to believe that, like, fifty feet away there used to be a burnt, shell of a house. I'm glad Derek finally decided to rebuild, it was getting drafty in there- not to mention depressing."

He glanced sideways at Isaac who had his eyes closed and face tilted towards the mid afternoon sun. Soaking up the rays like a cat, he thought, amused despite himself.

"And it's actually quiet for once, probably because Lydia and Jackson aren't here to fight and Allison and Scott aren't here to gross us out. I mean, they're cute and everything, but there's only so much a guy can take, am I right? Boyd's almost always silent though, same with Derek."

"Yeah," Isaac tilted his head a little. "The silence is nice." Without opening his eyes, he arched an eyebrow pointedly.

Ah, right. Stiles winced, gaze falling back on the smooth, clear pond before them. But silence wasn't exactly what he was looking for to alleviate the pressure in his chest. He scratched at the worn denim of his jeans, jittery and unable to sit still. His chest felt tight and words threatened to bubble up like bile in the empty spaces.

Isaac frowned, cracking an eye open.

"Stiles?" He asked, opening both eyes fully. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah." Stiles pushed to his feet, needing to move. Needing to get away before he disrupted the silence there further. "I'm fine. Just gonna head back to the house." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and turned to flee, going face first into the human equivalent to a brick wall.

"I could hear your heart beat from the house." The brick wall murmured and he could hear the frown in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing." The words burst out, sounding off, wrong, harsh and unsure. His chest felt tight. "It's stupid."

A hand tilted his head up and he could actually see the frown now. Derek's other hand landed on the back of his neck, holding him steady, thumb brushing against his skin over his thundering pulse in something that could be called a caress.

"Breathe." The command was issued quietly, but with no room for argument and Stiles sucked in a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been resisting. The hand holding his chin trailed down his arm to his hand to, he realized with a start, tangle their fingers together, while the other remained where it was, resting on the nape of his neck.

"Now. What's wrong?" Derek repeated, and jeeze, even the guys eyebrows could frown.

"It's ridiculous," the hand tightened briefly. "Jeeze, fine. I was driving by the cemetery and the last storm that blew through here did some damage. The ground had shifted and they'd had to temporarily move my moms' head stone. Okay? Are you happy now that you've alpha'd your way to an answer?"

"Alpha'd isn't a word."

And Stiles huffed out a laugh at what Derek chose to focus on.

"It is now. Has it's own entry in the Stilinski dictionary and everything." He caught the barely-there-quirk of Derek's lips and counted it as a win if nothing else.

"Anyways, I was just looking for someone to…talk to. I guess." He admitted.

Derek frowned and Stiles wanted to take back the words to bring back the almost smile.

"The pack,"

"Is busy with their own lives. I was looking for someone to listen."

"You should have come to me first."

Stiles opened his mouth to argue that Scott was his best friend, or that Derek had enough baggage, he didn't need Stiles to add to that, regardless of the fact that they were pack and had been for years. But even as he went to say it, he knew that it was Derek he should have gone to first. Even with this thing between them, tentative and barely there, Derek had never turned him away when he'd needed someone to listen more than anything else.

"I probably should have." He allowed. Derek ducked his head down to rest their foreheads together, comfortable and intimate.

"I have all day if you want to tell me."

"Is Isaac still there?" He asked instead.

"Isaac is leaving before mom and dad decide to make out." Came Isaacs reply as he scrambled to leave the clearing. Stiles felt Derek's huff of laughter against his cheek, prompting his own grin.

"So," Derek rubbed their cheeks together gently, nuzzling down to Stiles' neck and breathing deeply. "You wanted someone to listen?"

"Yeah." Stiles sighed, the pressure in his chest easing. "Just for a bit."