Sterek One Shots

Searching To Find Myself But All I Find Is You

“I need to tell you something.” Stiles announces as soon as Derek accepts the video call. “But you have to promise you won’t be mad.”

Derek arches an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell my mom about that time I sneaked out to go to Lydia’s party, did you?”

Stiles snorts, shakes his head fondly at the memory. “Ah, good times. But no, it’s not that.”

Derek shrugs, takes a sip of his beer. It’s Friday night, he won’t have to work tomorrow, he’s planning to get wasted while watching Game of Thrones re-runs. Fuck Erica for making fun of him, Derek likes to stay home, okay? “Then shoot.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, stares at his own hands. He looks tired but every time Derek mentioned it Stiles got angry, so now he doesn’t even ask anymore. “I’m coming home.”

Derek doesn’t spit out his beer, but it’s a near thing. “You mean home home?”

Stiles closes his eyes and then sighs. “Yeah, in two weeks.” He smiles softly. “They offered me a full-time job, but – I miss Beacon Hills. I miss my dad and Scott and Lydia – and you.” He adds. “I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

Derek nods, plays with the bottle of beer in his hands. “Are you sure this has nothing to do with Scott and Allison’s wedding?”

Stiles’ face scrunches up, but he doesn’t argue so Derek knows he got it right. He also knows that Stiles feels guilty for going away and leaving his family and friends behind, even though they told him many times that it’s okay, he’s just living his life, Stiles still feels guilty about it. “Not entirely.” He admits. “I loved spending some time on my own. I really did. And England is really fucking nice, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life here. Hell, I don’t want to spend another month away from you–my friends.” He coughs, face heating up.

Derek’s heart gives a somersault at the implication that Stiles is coming back because he wants to be near him, or maybe even with him. He can’t help but smile. “Why would I be mad at you for wanting to come back? You belong here, with us.”

When Stiles doesn’t say anything and gets up to start to pace around the room, Derek’s stomach drops. He frowns, confused, tries to understand what just happened. “Stiles –”

“I miss you.” Stiles finally says, still walking in circles in his own room. Derek can’t see his face, but he knows just by the tone of his voice that Stiles is about to cry. “I spent two years in freaking London, I hooked up with people, had amazing kinky sex with them –” At the words Derek feels his heart breaking a little, even though he had his own one-night stands, his feelings for Stiles haven’t changed a bit. “and yet I can’t stop thinking about your face when I left.” He finally sits on his chair again, looking directly at the camera. Like Derek suspected, he is crying. “I remember everything, Derek.”

Fuck.

Derek gasps, hides his face in his hands. He can’t believe that Stiles thought now was the right moment to tell him the truth.

“But you were drunk.” He says weakly. It’s a stupid argument, he knows, because he was drunk too and he remembers everything too damn well, but God, he can’t deal with this. Not after spending months trying to get over that one amazing night of sex. That night that meant everything to him.

That night where he told Stiles he loved him and Stiles said it back, and still fucking left to London.

“I lied.” Stiles sobs. Derek shakes his head, still unable to look up. “I’m sorry, Derek. I’m so fucking sorry.” Derek snorts, humorless, slams his hand on the table.