Senior year is finally over. Graduation is tomorrow, and Stiles is just relieved he lived through high school. The best years of their lives, supposedly, but he hopes that isn’t true. Too many people in his life are now ghosts, haunting his sleep whenever he has nightmares, and he really looks forward to a time when his life isn’t in jeopardy every few weeks. Besides all that, senior year has mostly been nine months of total suckage. The whole mess with Donovan, the chimera gang and Theo’s smug ass, the docs and the beast, Lydia almost dying, and all the other supernatural crap just made for a rough school year. Not to mention him and Malia breaking up, even if he knows it’s better for both of them. It still hurts, and he’s just glad they’re at least still friends.
Back in junior high, Stiles had visions of senior year that were like something out of the movies, the good ones not the angsty ones. He’d be dating Lydia or Danny (the latter becoming an option when he was thirteen and realized, hello, bi is a thing that he totally is), Scott would be happy with the girl of his dreams, he’d get a ton of scholarship offers, and they’d go on to do amazing things. As it is, he and Lydia are better as bros, Danny’s seemingly vanished into thin air sometime after the Nogitsune incident (though he’s heard rumors that he’s in London crashing with Jackson), Scott is dating Kira who could be the woman of his dreams, and the supernatural cluster fuck that’s been senior year means that there aren’t any scholarship offers because Stiles isn’t graduating in the top of his class.
Instead, he’s in the middle somewhere, on the higher end but not high enough. Hell, it didn’t start with senior year, really. It was more like getting possessed doesn’t improve your school performance. He lost his GPA after too many absences and missed assignments. His chance at college is gone, since he doesn’t want to deal with loans, and he can’t afford tuition even if he works two jobs full time. Really, he’s okay with it. College is just expected more than something he was really that into. His dad is going to help him get into the academy, so he’s going to become a cop, which is what he’s really wanted to do since he was a kid anyway. So, yeah, he supposes there’s at least still hope that they’ll go on to do amazing things.
When he pulls into the driveway, he sees that his dad’s already left for work. Stiles sighs as he gets his backpack and heads into the house. He makes a ham and cheese sandwich, munching on it as he walks upstairs to his room. It’s finished by the time he opens his door because he’s hungry after spending lunch helping Lydia work on her valedictorian speech. Somehow, despite everything, she’s managed to kick ass and keep her grades up. That’s why she’s going to end up taking over the world, no doubt. As he steps into his room, he drops his backpack on the floor and pulls his shirt over his head. The only thing likely to improve his mood right now is a really good jerk off session while his dad’s at work and his pack is busy with graduation prep. When he turns to toss his shirt in his chair, he lets out a startled scream.
“What the hell?” he asks when he manages to calm down, staring at Derek who is just sitting in his chair like he hasn’t been gone for a year without any contact at all. Stiles stayed in touch with Braeden, and she’s the only source of information he’s really even had about Derek since he took off after the whole dying only not dying thing. “Lurking in my room again, Derek? Did you regress a couple of years while you were gone?”
“Braeden told me about your graduation tomorrow,” Derek says, shrugging a shoulder. “I decided it was time to come back to Beacon Hills. It hadn’t even really registered that I’d been gone that long until she texted me about the ceremony. I didn’t plan to stay away like this.”
Stiles takes a moment to just look at him, liking the softness he sees compared to the sharp tension that used to always be there. He looks happy, maybe a little nervous but mostly happy, and that causes Stiles some conflicting emotions. Because Derek deserves all the happiness ever but it also makes him jealous because he kind of wants to be the thing that makes Derek happy. Damn stupid feelings that hit hard when you watch someone die and realize you maybe sort of love them and then don’t even get to say goodbye when they run off with a gorgeous bounty hunter that helps them become this beautiful happy man sitting in his chair.
“Yeah, well, we could have used your help months ago,” he mutters, walking over to sit on his bed. He drags his fingers through his hair, tugging slightly just to make sure he isn’t dreaming Derek in his room. He’s awake. “We’ve had one thing after the other all year. Lydia almost died, I killed a guy, it was self-defense but still it sucks, some prick came to town and managed to fuck with the pack, and I don’t know. A lot of bad shit that we managed to get through, but I wasn’t always sure we’d manage.”
“I didn’t know. I’d have come back, if I’d known,” Derek tells him quietly. “I was with Cora. I needed space, and South America seemed far enough away to let me think.”
“How could we tell you when Braeden’s the only one who can even get in touch with you? Anyway, it’s better that you weren’t here. You deserve some peace in your life, and you’re probably the smart one for getting away from this place.” Stiles pulls his legs up onto the mattress, wrapping his arounds around them and resting his chin on his knees. “Are you done thinking or do you plan to go back after graduation is over?”
“I’ve had enough time to heal.” Derek looks at him intently. “Stiles, it’s…I don’t…I was too broken…you’re so young. I was so fucked up. I had to leave, Stiles. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of us if I’d stayed.”
“Wow. So we’re really talking about this whatever that we like to pretend isn’t there?” Stiles motions between them. “I’m broken, too, Derek. I didn’t even know I felt until I was watching you die and realized I wanted to stay with you instead of going for Scott. What does it matter, though? It’s been months, but I’m still too young, aren’t I?”
“It matters.” Derek leans forward. “It matters to me, Stiles. When I thought I was dying, when I was lying there, it scared me to death when the thing I regretted most was not realizing that I loved you when I had the chance.”
“You can’t do this. You can’t break into my house and sit here looking all beautiful and soft and tell me you loved me but left me here without even saying goodbye,” Stiles says, shaking his head. “You know, I’m a horrible person? I mean, Malia knew something was wrong, but I lied to her, told her it was nothing, because it was nothing when you ran away. I tried to be good to her, tried to be the boyfriend she deserves, and I do love her, even if it’s not the same way I love you. You can’t come back and fuck with me, Derek. I don’t deserve this.”
“Love?” Derek stands up so fast that Stiles’ chair rolls into his desk. “You said love. Present tense. Not past tense. Do you still love me, Stiles?” He sits on the bed beside him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. But I’m not sorry I left. I had to deal with my baggage or else I’d never have been able to give you what you do deserve.”
“I’m sorry doesn’t make everything okay,” Stiles points out even as he leans into Derek’s touch. “I don’t know how I feel, Derek. It was a moment of realization that I’ve thought about and analyzed ever since you left, but I don’t know if it’s really love or not. You left before we could talk about it, or, knowing us, ignore it for weeks until the tension became too much and we ended up making out against a wall. You were gone before we could give it time to grow and become something amazing.”
“I know it doesn’t change anything,” Derek murmurs. “But I’m sorry, and I need you to know I mean it. I’m sorry, Stiles.” He leans in and presses his lips against Stiles’ mouth in a whisper of a kiss. “I think I could love you, and I’m sorry I left before I could find out.” Another barely there kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving or stay in touch while I sorted out all my shit.” This kiss is a little more firm, maybe because Stiles isn’t pushing him away.
No, Stiles is gripping the front of his shirt and holding it tightly. He’s looking into those beautiful eyes that he honestly didn’t think he’d ever see again, and he’s parting his lips, licking at Derek’s mouth when he gives him another chaste kiss. Derek groans and kisses him harder, licking into Stiles’ open mouth. Stiles moves his other hand into Derek’s thick hair, pulling him even closer as they share their first kiss. When they finally pull apart, he leans his forehead against Derek’s and sighs. “Are you going to stay this time?”
“For as long as you’ll have me, Stiles,” Derek whispers, rough fingertips caressing Stiles’ jaw. “I’m tired of running. I want to know if this might be love, if we can try this and see where it goes. I want a second chance, if you’ll let me have it.”
Stiles smiles, fingers carding through Derek’s hair. “Only if you give me a second chance, too. I think we’re off to a pretty good start, Derek. Stay for dinner, and we’ll talk about this, figure out what we want from each other, then we can see how it goes.”