Derek makes Stiles jumpy. Well, of course, that's always been true; after all, their first meeting happened at night, in the woods, when he and Scott had just found a body. But that's...well, that jumpiness somehow kind of morphed into another kind of jumpiness. So maybe it kind of feels the same – pounding heart, sweaty palms, twitchiness beyond what's normal for him – and maybe it causes the same kinds of reactions – rambling, clumsiness, the inability to sit still – but it's really, obviously, not the same thing at all.

For one, there's the gut punch of lust he gets at more or less random times, corresponding only to Derek's presence. And at first, that's...not fine, exactly, but he gets it, or thinks he does, anyway. Because see, he's a teenage boy, and there are a lot of things that turn him on; it's no surprise that the hot older guy who always seems to be around isn't an exception. It'd be more surprising, actually, if Derek was the exception. Stiles does a very good job of convincing himself of this fact.

Only then there's the protective instinct that begins to rear its head when Derek's in danger, which makes him do ridiculous things like tread water for hours in a pool while keeping the dead weight of Derek's body afloat. And that might be easy enough to pass off as wanting to hold on to everyone who means anything to him; he knows he does this, has since his mom died. It's a perfectly reasonable explanation. Of course, that doesn't at all account for how he starts wanting to make Derek happy, to see the guy laugh or smile...well, ever.

It'd happened once, naturally because of Stiles making a fool of himself, going to take a drink from his can of Coke and completely missing his mouth. It was embarrassing, sure, particularly since he'd actually been staring at a glimpse of Derek's bare stomach he caught while Derek was stretching. He'd been afraid that Derek would catch on, notice just where Stiles had been staring and rip his eyes right out of their sockets. Instead, Derek's lips had quirked up into an almost-smile, and then into an actual smile a moment later when he saw just where the soda was landing.

Stiles had had to endure an hour in wet, sticky pants, and all he could think was that he'd have done it ten times over if it meant Derek would smile again. That's when he knew he was fucked. That whatever this thing is he's been thinking/feeling/harboring for Derek, it comes down to some combination of attraction and friendship. It comes down to two of his least favorite words ever. Hopeless crush. His life sucks so much.

Stiles thinks long and hard about how he should handle this, because there are a lot of freaking options here. Some less viable than others, obviously, but he knows more about these things than he used to, and it's definitely best not to rush into something half-cocked, especially when you're dealing with werewolves.

There are a few things that stick out immediately as being in the realm of 'don't even think about it'. Number one on that list being to tell Derek straight out, and number two being to go the same route he'd gone with Lydia. While Derek might actually appreciate straightforward honesty, there's just too much likelihood of that backfiring on him and winding up with so much awkwardness even he can't tolerate it. And there's no way he can imagine trying to tell Derek subtly because, willfully or not, Derek doesn't pick up very well on subtle cues. That one would likely end with everyone but Derek knowing about his stupid crush, and him getting endless shit for it. Been there, done that, no need for a repeat.

There's always the ever-popular 'ignore it until it goes away', which might look better if Derek wasn't always just around the corner waiting to take off his shirt and/or save your life. It's kind of difficult not to appreciate someone who's saving your bacon and providing that much eye candy. Of course, all of that could be solved by avoiding Derek altogether, but at this point, that's really not possible. Stiles has already made the decision to help out wherever and however he can, and he'd pretty much have to back off completely to keep his distance from Derek. Definitely not an option now that practically everyone he knows and cares about is wrapped up in werewolf business.

As unappealing as it sounds, the best course of action seems to be just to wait and see how things play out. Stiles has never been very good at waiting on anything, and it ends up making him jumpier than ever. He's always been pretty clumsy, but now he's taking it to new heights. He knocks over pretty much anything within a two foot radius of himself, spills almost anything he eats or drinks; hell, he even starts tripping over his own feet.

Even worse is that it's obvious the entire pack has noticed. They've stopped letting him have snacks in their immediate vicinity, and it's gotten bad enough that he's been relegated to sitting on the floor, far enough away from everyone else that he won't accidentally smack any of them in the face (to be fair, that'd only happened once, and Isaac had been really forgiving). It's really starting to piss him off that he can't manage to get a better handle on this thing, but the more he tries, the worse it seems to get.

Stiles knows that something is bound to break eventually, but as is typical of his life, it doesn't go at all like he would have expected. They've just finished a pack meeting to discuss how best to deal with the Alpha pack, and somehow Stiles has managed to be the last to leave, despite his best efforts to the contrary. He's trying to get his stuff gathered up quickly, because Derek is just standing there watching him, and it's really unnerving.

He turns to go, not quite able to make himself skirt around Derek as much as he should, so when he trips, Derek's pretty much the nearest thing to grab hold of to keep from totally face-planting. And Derek catches him, helps keep him upright, and it takes Stiles a second to register that they're pretty much toe to toe and Derek's looking at him consideringly. He's about to start babbling and backing away, feeling the words bubbling up, but before they can get free, he finds himself crushed to Derek's chest with his mouth caught up in an unexpected kiss.

Stiles' arms flail for a minute, as off-balance as the rest of him, but they get with the program at about the same time as his brain does (Derek's kissing you, kiss him back, you idiot!) and wind themselves around Derek's neck. Stiles doesn't know how long they stand there like that, but it's long enough that he's panting for breath when Derek finally backs away.

He stares at Derek, who is obviously uncomfortable with the scrutiny, for a little while after before he can even think about saying something. When he opens his mouth, though, Derek cuts him off. "Whatever comes out of your mouth better not have any resemblance to inane rambling."

Stiles isn't sure what he was about to say, but he thinks about it carefully, now. "Can we do that again?" he ends up asking.

A feral grin spreads slowly across Derek's face, and Stiles swallows heavily. He's maybe in just a bit over his head with this, but somehow, he doesn't think he'll mind too much.