Stiles is home from college for a few days and he’s at Derek’s place, supposedly researching magical amulets, all the while going on and on about this date he has next week, and how he doesn’t even remember how to deal with humans anymore, like, when was his last real, actual kiss? Almost six months ago now and that was just a one-off with Malia while they were pretending to make out in the car while on witch-watch, and how HOW is he supposed to keep up a normal, healthy dating life with so much supernatural crap going on in his life? He has accepted that sex is something that happens to other people but at the very least he should be able to get a kiss or two in between crises and not, you know, FORGET how to do these things. It’s unnatural is what it is. He needs to get a better life. He needs to get better friends. He needs friends who would occasionally kiss him, just to remind him, you know—
And that’s where Derek does that whole sigh-pout-eyeroll thing and says JUST GO AND KISS SOMEONE. GO.
And Stiles is like, I’m not gonna assault people with my bad kissing—
So Derek - long-suffering and a little crazy in the eyes - pulls him up and tugs him close and grabs his face and kisses him.
It’s uncoordinated at first, Stiles looking shocked, eyes open wide, frozen in spot, but Derek never does anything halfheartedly, so he gives it his best go, teasing Stiles’ lips open and slowly coaxing him into the kiss.
And then of course Stiles is ALL IN, climbing Derek like a monkey, toppling them down onto the couch, worming his way into Derek’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck and wow, they are so good at this.
Stiles’ lips feel bruised when Derek finally pulls back. They’re both a little dazed and a lot disheveled, and Stiles thinks he can totally be forgiven for not having any clue what Derek’s talking about when he asks Stiles if that’s enough practicing.
They stare into each other’s eyes for way too long for just friends practicing kissing, and then Stiles is leaning in again, going with his gut, placing a small, lingering kiss on Derek’s lips, almost a question, and when their eyes meet again, Derek kind of looks wrecked and scared, so Stiles rubs the tips of their noses together, like reassurance or an apology or something, and then—and then Derek gets it.
His arms tighten around Stiles’ waist and he maneuvers them on the couch until he has Stiles pinned under him, to which Stiles responds by wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist, pulling him tight against him, and they’re not even kissing yet, just panting into each other’s mouths with anticipation and it’s still the best thing to happen to either of them in ages. Derek’s brain can’t even comprehend what the sex would be like if this is just their first kiss.
"You should maybe call off that date," Derek says against Stiles’ lips.
"Done," Stiles rasps with a shiver and buries his fingers in Derek’s hair.