Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Italic Lyrics: Heart of Fire by Innerpartysystem

Bold Italic Lyrics: Obsession by Innerpartysystem

Italics that aren't lyrics: flashback

Warnings: Spoilers for season 1 and 2.

Notes: The story switches between flashbacks (italics) and present time. The flashbacks begin taking place around the time Derek started crashing at Stiles's place in the first season. The present time is slightly before the Argents occupied the Hale house.

You remember me from a better time
Infatuation with each other could summarize
All this is tied to the love
The love you had assumed would never die

Stiles was considered by many a fool. He was clumsy, talked before he could filter things, he went running to his father's police crime scenes in the middle of the night, was best friends with someone who could rip him apart with his bare hands, and he fell in love with unobtainable people. First there was Lydia, whom he had loved since the third grade and second… and second…

And second, he had fallen in love with Derek Hale.

Or what used to be Derek Hale.

"I knew you'd come," Stiles felt a chill run down his spine as he tried to find Derek's form in the darkness of the Hale house.

"Are you done sounding like something out of a B rated horror movie?" Stiles asked dryly. Derek chuckled and Stiles finally pinpointed Derek's general direction- at least he wasn't at the top of the stairs, Stiles thought when he looked over to his right.

"It took you long enough," Derek circled him, pausing behind him to inhale his scent.

"You could have just knocked on my door instead of stalking outside my window or sending your crazy psycho werewolf bitch to knock me on the head with my own car part!" Stiles snapped, turning around to face Derek only to find the alpha was no longer behind him. He did another one eighty and found Derek sitting on the stairs, hands folded together. Stiles easily found the glowing red eyes in the darkness.

"You should really consider getting some lights in here," Stiles said.

"Come here," Derek growled.

Once upon a time, Derek had been telling him to, "come here" for an entirely different reason. Thinking of the reason made Stiles flush and his heart rate speed up. He was sure Derek was able to hear the change. He swallowed.

"Come. Here," Derek repeated, eyes flashing red.

"I am not sitting on your lap like a little girl Santa Claus- oh, okay," Stiles said when Derek growled and reached out, yanking him to sit on his lap. Stiles felt warm where Derek's fingers landed on his skin, causing him to unconsciously press closer to him.

Being pushed, shoved, or thrown against the wall… Stiles was getting used to all of the aforementioned verbs. His hands grabbed the wrists of the man- werewolf- that was holding him against the wall, struggling to catch his breath since the werewolf had him on his tip toes.

"The more times this happens- starts to lose its meaning," Stiles choked out. Seriously- this was the thanks he got for harboring Derek's fugitive ass? Derek fixed him with a glare and held him for a moment longer before releasing him. Stiles stumbled and grabbed blindly for the wall. Derek glanced at him, unconcerned as he sat on Stiles bed.

"Hi Stiles. How are you doing? Oh, gee Derek, thanks for asking! So thoughtful of you! Yeah, I was doing great until a crazy psychotic werewolf came in and almost choked me to death!" Stiles muttered under his breath. Derek glanced up at Stiles again. If Stiles didn't know better, he'd have sworn Derek looked amused.

"It's astounding how you can get all that out in less than five seconds," Derek said. Stiles glared at him as the werewolf fell backwards to lie down on his bed.

"Hey, my bed," Stiles said. "Down, boy." Derek opened an eye to glare at him. "Dude, what is it this time? Who's found your fugitive ass this time-?"

"I can't just come here to relax?" Derek asked.

"What?" Stiles blinked.

"You heard me. Close your jaw. You'll catch flies," Derek said, closing his eyes again. Stiles sighed.

"So, uh, any room on that bed for me?" Stiles asked, half joking. Derek half opened his eyes and reached out, grabbing Stiles' wrist, pulling him down onto the bed. Stiles yelped and found himself pressed into Derek's side. "Uh… Derek? Are you sick or something? I can call the werewolf doctor or something, um-"

"Shut up," Derek said simply, closing his eyes. Stiles could swear the arm holding onto his side tightened.

All of my love…
What keeps the pressure building?
What takes your breath away?
What do I have to do to make you
Want to fall in love with me?
Fall in love with me

"See, now Derek, I think we've gotten to the point where you can come into my room without pushing me up against the wall," Stiles said into the mirror and paused. "Okay, Derek, now, who's room is this? It's mine. And I don't appreciate being shoved up against the wall every time you use- abuse. Use? Abuse?- whatever- my hospitality and-"

"Are you done talking to yourself in the mirror?" Derek asked.

"Oh- D-D-D-Derek," Stiles stuttered. "Hi. How long have you been standing there? Please tell me it wasn't that long- oh, you have super werewolf hearing. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find Scott's baseball bat and knock myself out now-" Stiles backed up when he saw Derek taking steps towards him until he found himself up against the wall. Derek's left arm was above his head and his other was hanging lazily at his side. Stiles swallowed audibly, stubbornly staring at Derek's chest and nowhere else, worried what would happen if he looked Derek in the eyes.

Stiles felt Derek's hot breath on his ear, trying to resist the urge to swallow again.

"I heard you talking to Scott," Derek said.

"Y-yeah?" Stiles asked.

"Do you want to know if gay guys do find you attractive? Or just me?" Derek asked with a smirk and then he was gone. Stiles's legs gave out then and he stared at the open window, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"What's this about Erica knocking you out?" Derek asked.

"She disassembled my car and knocked me out with the part she took- which I still haven't gotten back, by the way! You could have just knocked on my door instead of lingering outside my window-"

"If you knew it was me, why didn't you unlock it?" Derek asked.

"Why didn't you knock on the door?" Stiles asked.

"Would you have let me in either way?" Derek asked.

"Since when have you ever cared if the door's been locked?" Stiles demanded grouchily. "Let me up, I want to go."

"You came here for a reason," Derek reminded him.

"And I guess I got my answer," Stiles said shortly, getting up. Derek let him get off his lap but grabbed Stiles' hand before he could leave. Stiles turned around and he didn't find the glowing red eyes of the alpha, but the green eyes of Derek. Derek stood up and pulled Stiles closer to him but Stiles put his hands on Derek's chest, keeping a small barrier between them and Derek let him keep his hands there. He dropped his hands around Stiles's waist and was pleased when Stiles didn't drop his hands from Derek's chest.

"Stiles," Derek said.

"Derek," Stiles mimicked.

"You came here for answers," Derek said.

"Why did you turn them?" Stiles asked, his hands dropping from Derek's chest.

"Your friend Scott has a few of those answers," Derek sneered, jerking away from Stiles.

"And I want to hear them from you," Stiles said.

"All of them?" Derek asked.

"Yes," Stiles swallowed.

"You're lying,"

"What? No," Stiles said nervously.

"Even if I couldn't hear your heart skip a beat, you're a horrible liar," Derek said.

"Where have I heard that before?" Stiles grumbled.

"All of them? Or just Erica?" Derek reiterated. Stiles stared at Derek for a moment.

"This is ridiculous. I'm leaving," Stiles said, turning around and walking towards the door.

"Stiles. Stiles, what did I say?" Derek demanded.

I can't remember what I had said
Something reminiscent of a relationship
It was easier to lack the truth
Then tell you how I feel
But I will surround your heart with lies until the end

Stiles had yet to work up the courage to talk to Derek- not just about Derek questioning about the, "Do you want to know if gay guys do find you attractive? Or just me?" It had been almost a week since Derek had cornered him against the wall. Of course he had seen the werewolf; he just couldn't find the words to talk to him. He would come home from school and find the werewolf sleeping on his bed. He never woke up the werewolf unless he heard his dad come home. Then when he would turn around, the werewolf would be gone, making Stiles question if the werewolf had ever been asleep at all.

As he walked up the stairs, he heard voices in his room.

"What are you doing here, Derek?!" Scott demanded.

"I'm checking up on him, like I've been doing for the past week. What are you doing here?" Derek growled back. Derek was talking quieter so Stiles had to strain to hear him. He knew the werewolves- or at least Derek- had heard him come in.

"I'm checking up on him!" Scott said.

"And?"

"And what?"

"You haven't been here in…" Derek paused to ostentatiously sniff the air, "what, two, maybe three weeks? Been too busy with Allison?"

"I see him every day at school- and what are you doing here anyways? He doesn't even like you!" Scott said.

"He's home," Derek said.

"What?" Scott asked.

"He's home," Derek repeated. "So if you don't want him to find us fighting… I suggest you go. Isn't Allison waiting?" There was silence. "I'll tell him you visited." Stiles waited a few more seconds before he opened the door to his room.

"You knew I was outside the door the whole time," Stiles accused.

"Of course," Derek said.

"So why-"

"Why did I tell him you just got home when you'd been standing outside the door? Because you'll call him out on it later and he'll maybe learn to pay more attention to his surroundings," Derek said. "Why are you sulking?" he asked when Stiles threw his backpack on the floor and then himself into his chair.

"I'm not sulking," Stiles said.

"You're sulking," Derek said, sitting on the end of the bed and reaching out, grabbing and spinning the chair around so that Stiles was facing him. "Talk."

"Has it really been two or three weeks?" Stiles sighed. Derek suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"Out of everything we say, you latch onto that?" Derek huffed.

"What else is there to- oh," Stiles said, his mind raking through the conversation. "Oh!" Derek looked extremely uncomfortable as Stiles put two and two together and only because of his werewolf reflexes, managed to stick his arms out to grab Stiles as he tackled him back onto the bed.

"You're looking out for me," Stiles grinned from ear to ear. "You're not just here because the hunters would never look for you here- you're here because you're looking out for me." Derek looked disgruntled and shoved Stiles off of him, and also off the bed but the teenager was still grinning. "You care about me."

"Don't bet on it," Derek said but he was fighting down a smile as he made his way towards the window.

"Hey, Derek?" Stiles asked. The werewolf glanced over at him. "Will you be here tomorrow?" Derek paused and Stiles took the time to look at him. The werewolf had his foot on the windowsill, ready to bolt.

"You don't have to stay you know, it's just that my dad isn't here and I only have me to cook for and-"

"You cook?" Derek asked, foot leaving the windowsill and sitting back on the bed, reaching back blindly to grab a book.

"Yeah," Stiles said, mouth suddenly going dry. "I cook."

I want you to notice,
What you've been missing
I want you to feel that,
Feel that deep inside of you
All of my love

"Don't walk away from me!" Derek yelled, his voice shaking the house. Stiles stumbled, grabbing onto a support beam of the house to keep from falling over. Stiles looked up, worried that the house might actually fall apart. Derek was almost surprised at the look of anger that came across Stiles's face. He was surprised when Stiles stomped forward and attempted to crowd Derek into the wall like Derek had done to him so many times, but Derek refused to be budged.

"So it's alright for you to walk away from me? After I almost get killed by your uncle, it's alright for you to just up and leave me instead of answering my many questions? It's alright for you to come in and out of my window whenever you please, leaving whenever you get even a little uncomfortable and it's not alright for me to leave when I don't want to be here?" Stiles demanded. "You always walk out on me, Derek! And I just sit here and take it!"

Silence echoed in the Hale household. Derek looked up and frowned. Stiles threw his hands up in the air, turning around to leave again. Derek grabbed Stiles and pulled him so that his back was against Derek's chest, covering his mouth.

"We're leaving, someone's coming," Derek hissed.

"What? Who? Is it the Argents?" Stiles asked, pulling Derek's wrist so it wasn't covering his mouth.

"Yes. Now be quiet," Derek said. Stiles looked up at Derek, with a look that clearly said, "Who are you talking too?" Derek huffed out an annoyed sigh. "Try and be quiet so I don't get shot with a poisoned bullet again."

"Derek-"

"Do you want to cut off my arm for real this time?"

"No, I rather like your arm," Stiles decided, feeling a thrill rush through him and found himself grinning.

"You're smiling," Derek said.

"You sound surprised," Stiles said.

"We might meet our death and you're smiling," Derek said in disbelief. "Why are you smiling? Stiles!" Stiles grinned, making his way to where he knew where the back exit was. Derek stared after the boy in annoyed disbelief before rolling his eyes and following him.

"-and he's been over every night for like, the past nine days! Nine days, Scott! I can't have a moment to myself. I'm coming dinner, breakfast, lunch- he's there. I'm watching television- he's there. I'm doing werewolf research, he's there- which is actually a good thing since he knows a shit ton of stuff- did you know that werewolves actually had a wolf form at some point and ran with real wolves?- oh, not the point- but I come out of the shower naked, and he's there! Oh, I did not mean to tell you about that one," Stiles stumbled over the last sentence guiltily.

Scott looked up at him, amused.

"You're talking about Derek a lot," Scott said.

"Yeah, because he's always there. In my house. It's weird. My dad isn't home as much as he is- he should be paying rent!" Stiles decreed. Scott scoffed at the idea of Derek paying rent.

"Stiles, is there something going on between you and Derek?" Scott asked.

"Wh-what?" Stiles said. "Me and Derek? What are you, crazy? Of course there's nothing going on between me and Derek. Why would there be something going on between me and Derek? There's nothing going on between me and Derek!"

"Okay," Scott said.

"Scott?"

"Yeah Stiles?"

"Do you think I like Derek?" Stiles asked. Scott stared at him.

"You like Derek?!"

"I never said that!"

"Well you just asked me if you liked him and I've never heard you talk about anyone this much since Lydia!" Scott said.

"Oh," Stiles said. "Oh!"

"No!" Scott said.

"Scott-"

"Stiles-"

"I like Derek freaking Hale!"

"No!" Scott groaned. "Why do you like the worst people?"

"Hey!" Stiles said.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Scott said hastily. "I'm just saying… can't you like someone, I dunno, like Danny?"

"Danny?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, well he's… gay… and he… talks to you, albeit reluctantly- hey, hey," Scott held his hands up. "I just want you to be happy… and Derek's a difficult guy."

"He's not that bad. He can reach the top shelves," Stiles said absentmindedly. Scott looked at him and chuckled.

"So… you're gay?" Scott asked. Stiles leaned back in his chair thoughtfully, balancing a pen on his lip.

"Huh… so do you think gay guys find me attract-gah!" Stiles yelped as he fell backwards. Scott sighed, glancing over his shoulder at his best friend.

"You okay?" Scott asked dutifully.

"…Yeah," Stiles said. "Do you think he likes me?"

"I think he's a fool if he doesn't," Scott said. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Need some help?"

"…Yes please,"

But I will surround your heart with lies and it's a
Heavy burden on me baby
Heavy burden I have never felt before
Stay with me

"Okay, I'm confused, are we talking about Derek or Lydia?" Scott sighed.

"Lydia, Scott. Keep up," Stiles said.

"Well, it's just that you were talking about Derek all the time and now you're back to Lydia," Scott said. "What happened? Was Derek just a phase?" Stiles avoided looking at his best friend.

"I haven't seen him in weeks, Scott," Stiles said. "Just drop it."

"Something happened between you two, I know it!" Scott said. "Come on, Stiles."

"Nothing. Happened," Stiles said.

"Stiles, I can hear your heart," Scott said. Stiles groaned and collapsed on the bed, hiding his face in Scott's pillows.

"I don't want to talk about it," Stiles said.

"You don't want to talk about it?" Scott asked in disbelief.

"No, Scott, I don't, okay? I don't want to talk about how I made meatloaf because he said it was the favorite thing his mother would make him before the fire and how I made sure to use fewer onions because his sense of smell is ridiculously strong and I thought the smell would tempt him to come over but he never showed okay?! He never showed!" Stiles snapped. "I'm sorry, I just…" he sighed, collapsing back into Scott's pillow. Scott looked at Stiles and sighed, moving to sit on the bed next to Stiles.

"Stiles… you don't like meatloaf," Scott said. "The first day you came over, you ate meatloaf and then hit your head on something and you threw up. You haven't touched meatloaf since."

"It was the blow dryer. The cord caught around me and it fell off the bathroom counter onto my head," Stiles grumbled. "Ugh, I hate meatloaf!"

"The plug cut your head," Scott remembered sympathetically. "Look, we'll find him, okay?"

"Well could you consider killing him? For me?" Stiles said. Scott chuckled.

"You don't mean that," Scott said getting up.

"Really? Because I think I do mean it," Stiles said. "Grab up some wolfsbane, some special Argent bullets-"

"I'm gonna grab a snack. You want something?" Scott asked.

"Chips- the sour cream and onion kind," Stiles said.

"Alright," Scott said. Stiles sighed.

"Where are you Derek?" he mumbled into the pillow.

"Did you say something?" Stiles asked. Stiles shook his head sitting up.

"Those chips for me?"

"Why were you smiling?" Derek persisted.

"You're still on about this? I cannot believe you're still on about this," Stiles said.

"You were on about some meatloaf thing that I had to ask Scott about for days and you're asking me how I'm wondering how you were smiling when we were getting hunted down by the werewolf hunters," Derek said.

"Hey, I'm not the werewolf here. I can say, 'oh, the big scary werewolf kidnapped me. Help me!'" Stiles snickered.

"Oh you think you're funny," Derek growled, grabbing Stiles around the waist. Stiles yelped and laughed as Derek swung him from side to side.

"Ah, Argents! Help, help there's a big bad scary werewolf swinging me around like he has a sense of humor!" Stiles said, forgetting for a moment that Derek was an alpha, that he hadn't seen the alpha in weeks with no explanation. He found himself pressed up against a tree, grinning back at a grinning Derek. Before either of them knew what was happening, they were kissing. Stiles gripped Derek tightly, wrapping one arm over Derek's shoulders and the other around his waist as leverage to pull him closer. Derek's hands roamed up and down. Stiles could feel the sharp nails raking his sides as Derek's wolf fought for control and hear the ripping of his shirt.

"Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" Stiles said, pushing Derek away slightly. His knees buckled and Derek held him up. He could hear the growl in Derek's throat as he fought for control. He stood as still as he could, trembling as Derek struggled not to turn. He struggled not to glance but failed, wincing when he saw the blood that was dripping down from Derek's mouth in an effort not to turn.

"Derek, just concentrate on me, Stiles, not the lust, okay- oh, bad idea to say lust, got it. I-"

"Stiles. Shut. Up," Derek said. Stiles closed his eyes tightly.

"Don't go," Stiles groaned. "Stay with me this time."

What is your satisfaction?
I'll give you all you need
What do I have to do to make you
Want to fall in love with me?
Fall in love with me

'"Do you want to know if gay guys do find you attractive? Or just me?"' the words rang through Stiles's mind. He really had no idea what to do with that information. What was he supposed to do? He had nothing to go on- no reason to think Derek actually like liked him. He actually had a whole bunch of evidence against Derek liking him. He had more evidence of Derek hating him then he did of him liking him.

And yet for some reason, those treacherous words just kept replaying over and over in his head.

"Take a shower," Derek's gruff voice said from behind him. Stiles jumped on his bed, turning around in a clumsy sprawl.

"D- you. What are you doing here? I don't smell- I just took a shower and Scott hasn't been here, I don't smell like any other werewolf because Jackson won't come near me- not that I'm not thankful," Stiles talked quickly. "So what could I possibly smell like when I just got out of the shower twenty minutes ago and there's no animal to mess up my scent?" Stiles and Derek stared at each other, Stiles with false courage and Derek with his usual gruff personality.

"Annoyance and sexual frustration," Derek said bluntly. His eyebrows rose as Stiles turned red and several emotions flitted over Stiles's face and then he ran into the bathroom, tripping over his lacrosse bag and catching himself on the wall as he did so. Derek rolled his eyes as he heard the shower spray turn on and Stiles skid against the tiles as he slipped slightly.

Stiles was not like the people in the movies who took a shower. Water did not sexily run over him as he caressed his naked body or have soap suds form over the most tantalizing parts of his bodies. No, Stiles didn't take a leaf out of the actor's books and look all sexy. He sat on the corner holing himself up in the form of a ball from the embarrassment.

"Stiles, actually take a shower!" Derek barked. "I can hear you're just sitting there!"

"You- you pervert!" Stiles shouted and then he heard Derek trip over something in his room. "Derek? Did you trip?"

"No!" Derek said.

"You did, you tripped!"

"I did not!"

"You so tripped!" Stiles said, almost gleefully. "The werewolf with his fancy werewolf powers tripped!"

"Shut up!"

"You tripped! Derek Hale tripped!"

"Stiles! I will rip your throat out!" Derek snarled.

"Come and get me! I'm naked!" Stiles said. "Yeah, that's right!"

"You'll have to come out sometime," Derek growled.

"Not dressed, I don't!" Stiles said. He grinned in victory when he heard Derek made a frustrated noise.

There wasn't much that could shut Stiles up. He could hardly shut up when Scott or his dad begged him or a in the face werewolf that could rip him to shreds was threatening his life or when he had learned something new or got into a new subject. He could shut up when Lydia was doing something extraordinary (but everything she did was extraordinary) or when someone had died.

Apparently there was a new item to add to the list of things that could shut Stiles up.

"You're mad," Derek said.

"So what?" Stiles huffed.

"Would you look at me?"

"Why? So I can see you go?" Stiles asked, hugging his knees to his chest, staring at the forest ground.

"Stiles, I almost killed you. I almost sank my teeth into your throat," Derek growled.

"So what else is new?" Stiles huffed. "Look, if you're going, just go already. I don't want to see you anymore." Derek huffed.

"I didn't know about Erica," Derek said. "I didn't tell her to do that." Stiles didn't answer. "Stiles…"

"Just go, Derek. You don't want me," Stiles said. Derek paused.

"You don't want me Stiles," Derek said. Stiles turned around but Derek was gone.

"Thanks for leaving me in the middle of the woods, jerk!" Stiles shouted.

I remember you from a better time
Conversation saturated with telling lies
All this comes back to the love
The love I spoke with honest and pure eyes

"Stiles?" his father asked.

"Yeah dad?" Stiles asked.

"Why are you wearing a towel?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

"What? Can't a guy watch t.v. in a towel?" Stiles asked.

"Well… just go put pants on," Sheriff Stilinski shook his head. "I saw your bottom enough when you were in diapers."

"Dad!" Stiles protested.

"And that was enough. Go put some pants on," Sheriff Stilinksi ordered. Stiles groaned and flopped face down on the couch. Sheriff Stilinski heard the plop and paused before he went into the kitchen, looking at his son. "So what's for dinner? More leftover meatloaf?"

"Uh, no, finished that," Stiles said, thinking of how he had thrown it in the garbage. "I was thinking we could get take out or something?" he said, thinking of the werewolf who refused to come downstairs because every time he tried, Stiles threatened to drop the towel.

"Alright…" his dad said, looking suspiciously at his son. "You are changing out of the towel though, right?" Stiles looked down at his towel and then his dad.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes," Sheriff Stilinski huffed, muttering about his kid under his breath as he trudged up the stairs to change out of his sheriff's uniform. Stiles looked nervously at the stairs before gulping and making his way upstairs. He cracked his door open slightly and peeked in. When he didn't see the werewolf, he pushed his door all the way open and closed it behind him.

"Looking for me?" Derek asked, arms crossed, leaning against the wall and glaring at Stiles. Stiles yelped and dropped his towel as he turned around, crashing into his desk.

"Stiles?" he heard his dad shout.

"I-I'm okay!" Stiles shouted. "Tripped… over laundry!" When he collected himself, Derek was holding his towel out to him, looking stubbornly away from him. Stiles could see hints of laughter threatening to escape the werewolf. Stiles snatched the towel away and walked over to his closet.

"My dad's home," Stiles said, pulling his boxers on.

"I'm aware," Derek said, ears twitching at the sound of Stiles zipping up his pants.

"So why are you still-" Stiles felt gentle hands on his shoulders, turning him around. "Derek?" Derek put one arm around his waist, tugging him closer, his other hand resting on the small of his back. Stiles swallowed and opened his mouth to start rambling but Derek swooped in and kissed him quiet before he could start talking.

"Stiles, you ready to go?" Sheriff Stilinski shouted.

Stiles and Derek jumped apart. Well, Stiles jumped and Derek pulled back calmly, keeping Stiles locked in his arms. Stiles felt his heart hammering in his chest.

"Y-yeah, dad," Stiles said. "Um…"

"I'll see you later," Derek promised, kissing Stiles again and then disappearing into the night. Stiles's dad opened the door, talking as he did so.

"I am getting the extra curly fries, Stiles. I'm a grown man and I just got off of work. I'm not- Stiles, along with seeing your bottom, I thought I taught you how to get dressed all the way after your ran around with your mom's bra on your head?" Sheriff Stilinski asked. Both Stilinskis paused at the casual mention of Stiles's mother.

"I did not do that," Stiles said. "I'm sure that was Scott-"

"Oh no, you can't pin this one off on Scott. And I know you pinned quite a few things you did on Scott," Sheriff Stilinski said.

"You can't prove anything!" Stiles said, stumbling over things as he fought to get to his dresser for a shirt.

"I'll wait for you downstairs, start the car up, okay?" Sheriff Stilinski said.

"Yeah, sure," Stiles said. "Hey, can I drive?"

"No!" the sheriff said.

"Darn," Stiles muttered, ruffling through his shirts. He paused when he found the striped orange and blue that Derek had tried on when Danny had been over. He brought it to his chest and bunched it up in his hands. The car horn honked, bringing him to his senses. He stumbled over to the door, trying to put his shirt over his head. He tripped, running down the stairs with the momentum and running into the wall. He recovered quickly, grabbing a jacket and locking the door behind him as he ran out.

"Did the laundry attack you again?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

"Well I tripped over something that I think was my jacket or a pair of old pants I got dirty or my shirts or a combination or everything," Stiles said. "Why do you ask?"

"The pair of boxers attached to your foot," Sheriff Stilinski sighed.

Stiles sighed in relief when he saw that his dad wasn't home and had taken another late shift. His dad was used to him romping around at all weird hours, knew he did it when he was at the police station, but it was another matter when Sheriff Stilinski came home and his son wasn't in his bed… or at least the house. Ignorance was bliss in regards to his son.

If he knew about the werewolves…. Stiles snickered.

He paused at the door, eyeing the area of the wall that was slightly dented in if you looked closely enough. Stiles had decided (for the first and last time) to "werewolf proof" his window so they would actually use the front door. It involved locking the window and rigging it so that silly string would spray out every time someone tried to open the window, even from the inside. Scott had fallen out of the tree. Derek had punched the doorbell and then threatened Stiles.

And then ripped apart the silly string contraption. Stiles had had to repair the wall the next day.

Stiles slammed the door shut, hand brushing over to the banister where Derek had grown claws and dragged them along it during a fit of madness after Danny had come over again after the "shirtless Miguel" incident. He skipped over the step that he had missed and Derek had caught him at the end but had looked less than happy about it.

Stiles stopped at his door, staring at it, remembering how many times Derek had slammed him into it, for both sex and because he was pissed at Stiles. His hand lingered over the doorknob. He was hesitant to push the door open, but refusing to be intimidated by memories, he pushed it open.

His eyes landed on the chair where he had first tackled Derek into a make out session and then his eyes followed the trail they had taken to get from the chair and into the Stiles's bed.

Where they had had sex for the first time.

Where they had said, "I love you." For the first time. Countless times.

…Okay, maybe five times, but still.

Sheriff Stilinski sighed when he saw all the lights were on in the house again. Stiles was a responsible kid in some regards, making sure both he and his father were fed, keeping the house relatively clean with the exception of his own room, taking care of himself when the sheriff wasn't home, making sure he was at least passing his classes… turning the lights off in the house was not one of the responsibilities Stiles had taken upon himself to adopt.

He made his way through the house, turning off lights as he went. When he was in the kitchen, he found sticky notes on the fridge. He opened it to find pizza with salad on the side. To the sheriff's chagrin, it wasn't the meat lover's, but some healthy garden pizza Stiles had probably compromised with to make sure his dad ate somewhat healthy. The sheriff was pretty sure Stiles had ordered half and half.

"Stiles, you awake?" the sheriff called, knowing that wouldn't rouse his son if he was sleeping. "Stiles?" he pushed the door open to find Stiles's room empty. "Stiles?! Stiles-" he threw open the bathroom and then the closet door until he made his way to his room, throwing the door open to find his son asleep on his bed. The sheriff's heart settled down.

"Stiles?" the sheriff asked.

"Huh? Wha? Dad?" Stiles asked, looking around sleepily.

"Son, what're you doing in here?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

"Sleepin'," Stiles muttered.

"I know that Stiles, but why aren't you sleeping in your room?"

"Can't," Stiles said quietly. "Just can't."