And so it begins…

Stiles was out of breath by the time he reached the 22nd floor. He had a stitch in his side, was panting deeply and his cheeks were flaming red, but he really couldn't bring himself to care as he stepped out of the lift, butterflies swarming in his stomach, into a pleasant hallway which he idly realised that even after months of working on the building, he had never seen before.

And of course it was only then that he realised he really had no idea what he was going to say. His sadly lacking love life so far had done little to teach him how to deal with situations like this, and it sure as hell wasn't covered in the porn he watched.

Should he wait to be invited in? Would he be invited in? Did he apologise straight away? Short and sweet in true Derek Hale fashion? Or should he build up to it as a conclusion after a long rambling preface in true Stiles Stilinski fashion? Would Derek slam the door in his face for being such a little bitch? Should he let the door hit him in that scenario because he kind of deserves it for making assumptions like he did?

So many questions, some more useful than others, but ultimately all leading him to one conclusion. He was stalling. He was definitely stalling. He was just so nervous that he couldn't bring himself to stop stalling and move more than the pacing he was practicing on the hallway carpet. Because he had a single nagging thought circling his brain, making him want to throw up.

What if Derek rejected him?

For real this time. Not by accident through a window unaware of Stiles' voyeurism. And sure, Laura had insinuated that there was at least a little bit of interest on Derek's part, hence his sprint from campus to Derek's flat, but what if that wasn't enough for him to get over the fact that Stiles had freaked out, that he abandoned him, that he acted like a possessive fucking high school girl whose crush had turned them down. Of course Derek probably didn't know about the one man pity parties he had hosted over the past week so he was probably safe from that ridicule. But still, rejection was a massive possibility, and that was not encouraging Stiles to move towards Derek's door.

Hence the lines probably permanently carved into the lush carpet by his pacing feet.

But on the other hand what if Derek did want him? What if he forgave him, and they became friends again, and Stiles could begin to execute his plan to win him back? What if he got over the whole high school freak out thing and welcomed Stiles into his house with a clap on the back and an 'I've missed you dude', put a cold beer in his hand (a day early but whatever) and settled them down together on the couch to watch sports like the old days? What if, like the first time, Derek let Stiles cuddle in and sleep on his lap again, because god knows all this drama had messed with Stiles' sleep schedule and he was really tired. What if he missed out on that scenario because he was too chicken to knock on the guy's door?

So the what ifs went both ways. But how was he supposed to know which one would happen? The slam in the face or the friendly welcome? The crushing blow or the happy ending? He figured, sighing deeply, that there was only one way to really find out. He had to face the music and knock.

Nothing had ever sounded more ominous to him in his life than the hollow knock of his fist against the wood off Derek's door. There were a few seconds of tense silence before there was the sound of shuffling feet heading slowly towards the door, and the pressure was so heavy that Stiles found himself holding his breath, palms sweating and the instinct to run flashing red behind his eyes. But he didn't, partly because that would be the coward's way out and partly because he was pretty sure his legs weren't working properly anymore and it would be more embarrassing to be found lying on the floor unable to move.

So he stayed, rooted to the carpet, and waited as the seconds stretched on until the door was opened and he was greeted by a familiar, if more worn and bedraggled, face. It had only been a week but god he had missed the grumpy bastard's annoyingly attractive face. His eyes were rimmed red, sleep deprivation clearly apparent, his stubble was thicker than before, and some horrible part of Stiles glowed at the fact that his absence had had such a drastic effect on the Greek God of a man before him. He shushed the twisted part of his mind that was preening over the fact that he clearly hadn't been the only one suffering, just like Laura had implied, because that was horrible and selfish and he had other things, more pressing things, to think about right then.

Like, what was he supposed to say? Derek was no help, he just stared at Stiles, shocked and confused and ultimately useless. But for once Stiles couldn't think of anything to say because his mind had blanked the minute he had seen Derek's perfectly frustrating face again. So Stiles stood on Derek's doormat, mouth opening and closing at regular intervals but with no words visibly coming and Derek just stared back in semi stunned silence. It was awkward to say the least.

Two whole minutes of nothing followed with the two just staring each other down before Derek finally snapped.

He growled low in his throat, the sound worryingly animalistic and unrestrained, before his arms shot out, grabbed the front of Stiles' t-shirt and pulled him into his flat, kicking the door shut behind them with the heel of his boot. He pressed Stiles into the nearest wall and sealed their lips together, rough and hard and desperate.

Moaning, Stiles pressed back, not content to be dominated so easily. His fingers tangled in Derek's hair, using the new hold to pull them closer and slot their mouths together more comfortably. Derek took to running his hands over every inch of Stiles' body that he could access, hands refusing to stay in one place or even above clothing, for any significant length of time. Every now and then he would growl out a moan, low in his throat, before diving in with renewed vigour, biting and nipping and licking as if he were trying to get Stiles to come undone there and then. It was breathtakingly addictive, and Stiles was loathe to stop it, so much so that he waited till his vision started to blur and his head started to spin before he pulled away and gasped in much needed air. Undeterred, Derek latched onto the smooth skin of Stiles' neck, kissing and biting his way down the collarbone hidden just below the neck of the t-shirt, which he had tugged out of the way. Gripping Derek's hair tighter, Stiles angled his neck so that Derek had better access to the unmarked skin. Seemingly excited by the prospect of being the one that marked that skin, Derek moaned again and scratched his stubble against the pale neck, practically purring when Stiles shuddered beneath him.

Then, suddenly, he froze up, still pressed against Stiles' neck, but suddenly unmoving. It took a moment for Stiles to come down from his lust induced haze but when he did his face contorted with a mix of confusion and self-doubt. He tugged at Derek's hair, trying to get him to look him in the eye but Derek refused to budge, instead staying nestled in the crook of Stiles' neck, breathing heavily.

'Derek? What's wrong? Why'd you stop?'

A sigh swept across the skin of his shoulder causing another shiver to ripple through Stiles, the hairs on his neck standing up. It was hard, but he endured the silence without breaking it, waiting for Derek to answer him. Eventually his patience paid off and the stubble left his skin, and blue eyes met brown.

'Do you want this?'

'What?'

'Do you want this? You have to tell me you want this. You have to tell me you want me. Please. Tell me this is why you came. Tell me you forgive me for driving you away. Tell me I didn't make this up. God please, please I need to hear it.'

Stiles stood silent, stunned at the wrecked voice, the broken eyes and as he took in the hunched posture with hands fisted like claws in his shirt he felt his heart crack a little. He had had no idea that Derek had been so hurt, so crushed, seeing him like this was almost painful. He was also a little amazed, he had known Derek a few months and he had never heard him speak so much, with such emotion, it was kind of startling. However, his wonderment caused his silence stretch on a bit too long and before he answered Derek pulled away and took a step back, head bowed and hands covering his face, whispering through his fingers rapidly, his voice cracking.

'Oh god. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't help myself. You were there, and I hadn't seen you in a week, and I thought you'd come to… I thought wrong. I-I'm so sor-'

'I want it.'

Derek's head shot up, words trailing off mid-sentence, and eyes snapping to meet Stiles' wide eyed stare.

'What?'

'I said I want this. I want you. I came to tell you that, to beg you to forgive me for overreacting. To beg you to give me another chance. God Derek, you'd have to be mad to think I didn't want you. You are everything I want. This week has been hell, I couldn't concentrate, I barely slept, I thought you'd been teasing me, playing with my feelings. I didn't understand. And then your sister came to see me and I hid in a wardrobe because I couldn't face her, but then she told me I'd been wrong and I felt so bad. I felt like the biggest idiot in the world. And I hate myself for doing this to you. So don't, for one second think that I am going to turn you down. I want this, you idiot. I want you.'

With that he pulled Derek back in, trying his hardest to remove every trace of doubt he could find in the other man. Slowly he felt Derek relax under his touch and only then did he pull away again wanting to make sure he'd achieved his goal. His heart leapt at the smile on the other man's face, tentative and tender and one he had never seen before. In awe he lifted a hand to stroke against the unshaven cheek before him, laughing in surprise when Derek turned his face to place a kiss on Stiles' palm, smirking at the reaction he got before pulling him into an embrace, Stiles' head tucked under his chin. Stiles felt Derek place a light kiss to the crown of Stiles' head before just leaving his lips pressed to his hair. It was a weirdly wonderful moment.

'So this is not how I thought this would end the day we met.' Stiles laughed when the silence pressed too heavily for him to ignore. Derek snorted into his hair, hands trailing along Stiles' spine in slow comforting movements.

'Who says this is the ending? Surely this is just the beginning?'

Stiles let out a hum of agreement and slipped a hand into Derek's back pocket, not missing the choked gasp he got when he applied slight pressure.

'Alright smartass.' Another squeeze, he got a growl this time. 'How about we begin in the bedroom? This has been a long time coming and I feel that taking it slow might just kill me so if that was your plan, I suggest you revaluate- HEY'

Derek didn't wait for him to finish. His eyes flashed as he hauled Stiles over his shoulder as if he weighed nothing and began striding towards his bedroom. He ignored the protests from Stiles and instead kicked his bedroom door shut and tossed Stiles into the middle of his king sized bed, delighting at the way Stiles flushed, embarrassed, as he propped himself up on his elbows and glared.

'My, my, Derek. How very caveman of you.' Stiles scowled, but the frown melted away as soon as Derek crawled onto the bed and pushed him onto his back, following his lips down as they went. After a minute he pulled away just enough to speak, lips still brushing lightly as they moved, a look of nervous hesitance in his eyes.

'Before we do this, I figured you should know, I-I-I-.' He breathed in deeply and squeezed his eyes closed, the look of concern on Stiles' face distracting him from what he felt he needed to say. Finally he opened his eyes again, and stared into Stiles' wide brown eyes.

'I-I love you.'

Derek didn't really know what he was expecting but it wasn't for Stiles to dissolve into a surprised fit of giggles. Derek pulled back so he was sitting on Stiles' hips and furrowed his eyebrows as he watched, offended, as the boy laughed till he was breathless. Finally Stiles calmed down and grinned up at Derek's unamused face, which almost sent him back into fits.

'Oh, dude, I thought you were going to tell me you had gonorrhoea or something. You had me panicking man. I didn't mean to laugh; I was just a little surprised and a lot relieved. I don't know if it makes up for my shitty reaction but I kind of love you too.'

Derek's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'Really? You're not just saying that to make me feel better?'

Stiles curled his fingers into the front of Derek's shirt and pulled him till he was hovering over Stiles' mouth once more.

'No, dumbass. I'm not just saying that. I do love you. That being said, I might kill you if you don't do something right now.' He emphasised his point by bucking his hips where Derek was perched on them. 'I've had enough of our epic heart to heart, I'm thinking we should get our other body parts involved. I can think of a few that wouldn't mind being taken for a spin, that is, if you think you can handle me.'

And Derek didn't like being challenged, so he shut Stiles up in the best way he knew how.

Long story short, it was probably a good thing Laura didn't come home that night.

TADA! It is complete. Well kind of. I might do an epilogue at some point but as far as the main storyline is concerned this is the end. And see, I told you it would all work out. That being said I don't really know if I am happy with how the whole thing turned out so I would love to hear what you think. I hope it wasn't too sickly sweet for your liking, and I was in too minds about whether or not to write this scene a bit… further (if you know what I mean) but I wasn't sure it would be well received. Would it?

And now I'm really sad it's over. I guess I'll have to start writing another fic then to make up for this whole in my life. Promises promises, let's see if they hold up.

And again, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, this would have been nowhere near as fun without knowing you guys liked it.