One More Night

Twelve

A/N: Hi friends! Enjoy this chapter, aka the calm before the storm :)

Derek stood outside of Stiles's apartment for a good ten minutes after he arrived. He still didn't know what he was going to say to him. He thought he might say something stupid if he didn't plan it out just right. He wasn't usually this nervous about anything, especially talking to a guy, but then there's never been a guy like Stiles before.

After another five minutes, Derek knew he wasn't going to come up with something helpful to say before the end of the night. He was going to have to wing it and hope Stiles could forgive him. So with his heart racing, he knocked on the door. As if he was waiting on the other side for Derek to show up, Stiles opened the door before Derek could even take a step back to wait for him.

Derek took in the man in front of him, standing there in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hair sticking up in ridiculous ways, his eyes shining. Derek smiled softly, but the gesture wasn't returned. "Come in," Stiles mumbled, stepping out of the way for Derek to enter the room. Derek hesitated, but took the invitation. He awkwardly stood in the middle of the room as Stiles shut the door behind him and slowly turned around.

Derek didn't know where to start, but Stiles was being silent, so he knew he had to say something. He figured the best thing to say was, "I'm sorry, Stiles." And he meant it, but he wasn't sure Stiles believed him. He was sorry about a lot of things, even things he didn't have to be sorry about.

"I've gathered that much," Stiles replied, stepping away from the door and towards the couch. Derek watched as he sat down, gesturing for Derek to sit, too. He waited until Derek was sitting on the couch, a full cushion between them, before he said, "I'm not mad at you, Derek."

Derek opened his mouth to respond, then clamped it shut again, confused. "You should be," he settled on, shaking his head. "I was an asshole."

"I'm not mad," Stiles repeated. "We're not friends. We're not a couple. I have no right to be mad, right?"

Derek blinked slowly, letting Stiles's words sink in. They weren't friends. Of course. They agreed, when they made the rules, that they weren't friends. "I guess so," Derek mumbled. "But if you're not mad, then why did you run off like that?"

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Because you were in the middle of fucking another dude?" he retorted, as if Derek should know better. "I mean, I didn't want to interrupt."

Derek had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes, because he knew what he saw. Stiles was hurt when he saw Derek with the other guy. He had tears in his eyes. Derek didn't imagine that. "Say that's true," Derek started, trying to refrain from sounding rude, "then why were you so pissed at me over the phone?"

Stiles paused, sighing heavily. "Look, I'll admit, I was a little hurt," he finally says, and it was what Derek had been waiting to hear. "I thought. . . I don't know what I thought, but it sucked, seeing you with someone else." He shook his head, like he knew he was being dramatic. "I know I don't have any right to be upset. Like I said, we're not friends, or anything. But after you ignored me for a week, to see you with someone else, I guess it just reminded me of how much I don't matter. I'm nothing to you, or anyone, for that matter. And I-"