He’s just standing there, near the brick wall of the classroom, brooding his little werewolf brain away, wearing an utterly earnest-to-god heartbroken expression on his smoldering, handsome face. It shouldn’t belong there. Not after all of the times Stiles has seen his smile.
“What are you doing here, Derek?”
It’s not like he has a reason. Falling in love with a girl and moving out of state does not constitute coming back to torment the ‘kid who doesn’t know what he’s feeling’.
“I want this.”
It’s a punch to the gut, breath sucked out of him so quick it’s hard to breathe in anything other than pinederekcinnamonforest. Stiles stares, in total disbelief.
“I want you, Stiles,” Derek says, quietly, ducking his head like he’s sure he’s crazy.
Heart pounding against his chest, Stiles launches forward, one hand clutching the material of Derek’s shirt, the other finding his scratchy stubble, presses his mouth against Derek’s until he kisses back harder, until his lungs are burning.