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was it a dream?

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It was pack bonding night and so, according to tradition they were all squished into Derek's apartment living room, blankets strewn across the floor and cushions everywhere. Derek only had an armchair (that he called dibs on the second it was placed in the apartment) and a three-seater couch so most of the pack was on the floor, laying carelessly over each other. 

They had all been out in the day, to a pizza place not far from Derek's house and afterwards they had all piled back to Derek's, their stomachs full and hearts a little lighter. Everything was good and there were no ghouls or evil-doers in Beacon Hills anymore, but they were still healing from the aftermath of the nogistune, losing Allison had debilitated them all. Everyone had their demons and they faced their trauma the only way they knew how. Together. 

Stiles had been off all day and Derek noticed the second he walked through the door of the pizzeria and didn't punch him in the arm as a hello. He didn't really say hello at all. Derek tried not to let the worry show on his face. Instead he sat silently in the armchair, as always, as the rest of the pack were getting snacks and snuggling up to each other. Once they were all settled and a film was chosen, Derek peered over to Stiles. He was curled up the couch, comfortably wedged in between Erica and Isaac, his head on her shoulder and Isaac's head on his lap.  

He looked perfectly fine, laughing along to the quips and jokes of the film they were watching, snuggled up against Erica with a hand in Isaac cherub locks. Stiles looked to Derek, sensing he was being watched, and immediately went wide-eyed and looked away awkwardly. Derek stood up abruptly, everyone's eyes went to him. 

"Drinks?" he said, woodenly. Everyone gave their requests and then went back to watching the film, unaware of the internal struggle Derek was having. Or they were, and they were just too used to Derek's emotional constipation at this point and chose to ignore it. One or the other. 

"Stiles, help me." he tilted his head and walked away, not waiting for a response. Seeing as how it was less of a question and more of a command. Stiles sighed and stood up, trailing after him to the kitchen. Isaac whining uselessly as he was dislodged. Derek hadn't thought through what he was going to say but he just needed to get Stiles alone so he could ask what the hell was wrong with him. 

"Okay, I'll get the cola's and-" 

"What's wrong with you?" Derek hadn't meant to interrupt Stiles but he couldn't seem to control himself. 

"I-I'm sorry? I was just trying to figure out a way to get the drinks." Stiles stuttered out, looking confused beyond belief at Derek's blunt question. Derek inwardly rolled his eyes at himself. 

"No, I mean is something wrong? You've been distant and not at all annoying today." he stated, as softly as he could. 

"That's a bad thing to you?" Stiles tried to joke. He was smiling but it didn't touch his eyes at all, he was ruffling the hair on the back of his head and avoiding eye contact and that put Derek on edge. 

"Yes." Derek stalked towards him and sniffed not-so-subtly. "You don't smell sad, so what's up?" 

"Nothing, really. I guess I'm just having a quiet day. Lucky you." Stiles shrugged and shifted on his feet, nervous at the proximity. 

"Yo, where are our drinks? " Scott asked, from the other room. Only Derek heard him and so he sighed; he shook his head and waved Stiles off saying a quiet 'Forget it.' before grabbing a few cans and walking out to the living room. 

Stiles let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding and felt his shoulders sag a little. He scuffed his feel against the linoleum floor and shuffled back too. Erica and Isaac were now curled around each other and Boyd had moved from the floor to the end of the couch, leaving nowhere obvious for Stiles to sit. Scott looked up from where he was laying with Kira and tried to find somewhere for him to sit too, he pointed to the Derek's feet and Stiles couldn't mentally come up with an excuse not to sit there. So, he walked over quietly and eased himself down, in front of Derek's chair. 

Derek did nothing except try not to burn a hole into the crown of Stiles' head. The film continued and a few of them fell asleep, warm and surrounded by pack. Stiles wasn't looking at the TV and instead had his head down, resting against his knees that were drawn up to his chest. A sour smell permeated through the air and Derek winced as it hit his nose.  

Derek had decided he'd had enough. He stood to his feet, knocking Stiles slightly but before Stiles could turn his head, Derek grabbed the collar of his hoodie and hauled him up to his feet. Stiles was about to yell at him but Derek dragged him out of the room, and pushed him towards and up the stairs. They reached Derek's room and Derek shut the door behind them. 

"What the hell Stiles. Why aren't you talking, you're freaking me out with your silence." Derek growled slightly, his worry turning into anger without his permission. 

"I didn't realise you cared so much, Sourwolf." Stiles was still trying to deflect and that infuriated Derek even more. He walked towards Stiles and Stiles had the good sense to back up a little, the back of his knees knocking against the foot of the bed. 

"Bite me, Stilinski, you know I care. Now, what's wrong?" he emphasised his last words and was this close to grabbing Stiles by the shoulders and shaking some sense into him. 

"I had a weird dream." Stiles muttered. 

Derek blinked, all of his frustration disappearing into the air and confusion taking over. 

"Is that why you're so upset?" 

Stiles sat down on the bed heavily and sighed, fiddling with his fingers, his leg jumping as usual. 

"I'm not upset, just confused, I guess."  

"Why?" Derek sat down next to him, leaving a few inches between them so Stiles didn't feel cornered. Stiles took a deep breath and started. 

"Okay, I didn't even wanna tell you because I knew it'd screw things up between us and now really isn't the time to be having a gay crisis not that that's what I'm worried about, I knew I was bi since I was like 14 and I watched Star Wars and saw Hayden Christensen wielding a lightsaber." Stiles was talking with his hands and waved away that train of thought, he shook his head a little and set himself back on track. 

"I just- Dude I think I seriously like you and this dream just solidified that and I don't know what to do or what to say to you." Stiles stopped suddenly, realising he totally just exposed himself in more ways than one.  

He wasn't ashamed of his sexuality and knew none of the pack would even care too much. It just wasn't common knowledge, most people just assumed Stiles' less than heterosexual comments were him being garish. 

"Don't call me dude." Derek spoke after a few seconds of painful silence. Derek was smiling ruefully but Stiles still had yet to look at Derek. 

"Just forget it Derek, I'm just gonna go home. Sorry for... ruining your night." Stiles sullenly stood up and went to walk away but Derek caught his arm and pulled him back to the bed. 

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry, old habits. Was your dream that bad that it's got you this wound up?" 

"It wasn't a bad dream. I can deal with bad dreams. I think that's what's thrown me. It was... A really good dream." Stiles breathed out, closing his eyes, his eyebrows crinkled and face looking sad. He heaved out a sigh and let his head drop down, his hands still and his leg had stopped it's constant jittering. 

Derek couldn't think of what to say. Where to start. He took a breath himself and spoke quietly into the room. 

"I figured out I was bi when I watched Lord of the Rings and liked Aragorn more than Arwen." 

Stiles looked up at him now, his eyes wide and mouth open slightly. Derek looked back and smiled lightly. Stiles laughed shortly, then began laughing properly, giggling away and shaking his head. Derek joined in, and just like that all of the tension bled from the room. 

Derek grabbed Stiles' hand and placed it on his knee, their laughter drifting away easily. Stiles held Derek's hand back and they just breathed for a minute together. Waiting for the other to speak first. They weren't looking at each other, just sitting shoulder to shoulder and waiting. 

"I like you too, Stiles." Derek spoke softer than ever; the most vulnerability Stiles had ever heard from the wolf. He took a quick breath in, the weight of the words hitting him. Derek huffed at the surprised look on Stiles' face and spoke again. "I thought the amount of times we've saved each other's asses might've made that obvious." 

"Some detective's son I am." Stiles said lightly. They fell silent again. Not an uncomfortable one, there were just no more words that needed to be said. Stiles, never one for staying quiet for long spoke again. 

"I dreamt about you last night." He said, just as soft. Just as vulnerable. 

"Yeah?" Derek chanced a look at Stiles and saw him smiling, a little sad, but a smile nonetheless. 

"Yeah. It was the first nice dream I've had in... weeks."

Derek stood up, a jerky movement that jolted Stiles out of his reverie. He looked up to Derek confused, slightly worried. Derek smiled reassuringly. 

"Come on, we should get to sleep. It's late and we have a big day tomorrow." he said, cryptic. He must've been taking lessons from Deaton. 

"We do?" Stiles wracked his brain for any plans that may have been made in the day that he forgot about. 

"Yeah, I'm taking you on a date, idiot." he smirked slightly and Stiles face lit up. He tried to school his expression to no avail, the smile was easily peeking through the slight pout on his lips. 

Stiles stood up too and Derek offered out a hand, Stiles shyly twined his fingers through Derek's and they made their way back downstairs, hand in hand. 

They got downstairs to see everyone asleep, Isaac now curled up in Derek's chair. They paused, Derek walked away and turned the TV and lights off. He was locking all the doors and windows and Stiles stood awkwardly waiting for Derek's next move. 

"You can sleep in my bed tonight, if you want." Derek whispered across the room. Tiptoeing back to Stiles and tilted his head in question. Stiles nearly cooed aloud but just managed a little nod of agreement. Derek smiled and grabbed Stiles' bag. 

"Come on." They walked back upstairs and got ready for bed, brushing their teeth and making slight goo-goo eyes at each other in the bathroom mirror, the slight domesticity of it all making Stiles' heart jump and seize a little. If Derek noticed, he didn't say anything. 

They got into the bed and Stiles was almost too giddy to sleep, but the day had caught up to him and he yawned, his eyes getting heavy. Derek shifted and pulled Stiles a little closer to him, his nose resting against Stiles' shoulder, breathing in his soft scent. 

"G'night, Stiles." Derek mumbled out, now sleepy too. 

"Goodnight, Sourwolf." he said sleepily back. Soon enough they were fast asleep too, curled around each other.  

Tomorrow Derek will ask about the dream and Stiles will tell him that he dreamt about them sat in the preserve, the sun shining down on them, the warm glow highlighting Derek's face and making Stiles fall a little deeper into feelings. But for now, they fell into an easy sleep, the way they always seemed to end up. Together.