This is my first foray into the Sterek fandom. Kind of a drabble (maybe a little to big) that I wrote the other day and I thought I'd post it. I hope to write a longer story in the near future cause I just love, love, love (duh) the pairing and have a few little plots running around in my mind. Love to hear what you think.


It really was the simplest thing. It came to him in an epiphany what his heart always felt, had always known.

Stiles was out to lunch with Derek. Erica sat in the large booth next to him filing her nails, supremely uninterested in her company. The others of the pack were supposed to join them soon. Derek sat across from him and they had just finished an argument over Derek's taste in movies—or lack thereof. Stiles won obviously and Derek pretended not to glower about it.

The waitress appeared with a tray of shakes. She slid the chocolate banana shake to Stiles absentmindedly. The double chocolate was for Derek. She made sure to lean over in the process bearing her hefty cleavage and Stiles couldn't help but notice Derek's flick of the eyes down towards them. It was a testament to Derek's subtly, which Stiles never possessed, that he barely caught it and oddly enough, Derek glanced at Stiles with a look that could only be described as repentant.

If anything that should have been the moment. But it was not. Nope, Stiles ignored the sick to his stomach feeling. He was totally just starved. He dove into the shake with sloppy abandon.

"Gross," Erica commented at his lack of table manners. "You can dress him up, but—well no strike that, you can't do that either."

Derek snorted in agreement.

Stiles gave her a resentful sneer around the spoonful of delectable shake in his mouth. A glob fell onto the table and that might have been a little humiliating. Especially when he caught Derek staring at him and shaking his head ruefully.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're fit for public consumption," Derek commented.

"Hey! I'm totally a pre-packaged meal, FDA approved and ready for public consumption. Like a lunchables!" Stiles protested.

Derek pretended to ignore him, but Stiles caught the tug at the corner of his lips. Success! Then Derek lifted the spoon to his mouth and suddenly Stiles was blushing.

What the ever-living fuck? Stiles thought flabbergasted.

It was not until that particular moment when Stiles realized it like a strike of lightning directly to the heart. Suddenly his heart was beating and he felt it. He felt it like he had never felt his heart beat a single pulse in his life.

A spoon going into someone's mouth should not be so sinful and Stiles should sure as hell not be jealous of cutlery. How had he never watched the way Derek's lips wrapped around a spoon? How his cheeks hallowed as he sucked and oh dear lord those cheekbones! Stupid little butterflies blossomed in Stiles' stomach but they felt like military jets practicing a fly over and he actually doubled over.

Erica's head whipped over to stare at Stiles and the spoon fell from Derek's mouth, which hung open startled with a tempting splotch of chocolate syrup stuck to his bottom lip and Stiles did not want to lick it off.

"Your heart's going crazy, you okay?" Derek asked and the concern in his eyes was too much, like he was actually worried Stiles was hurt. And oh god, if he only knew, if he only smelled, Stiles thought.

Erica's nostrils flared and her stare widened, because of course the sex vixen smelled it.

"Stiles!" She hissed almost congratulatory. "You devil!" Derek looked from Stiles to her and back extremely perplexed—and the knitted brows were not sexy at all, no of course not. Stupid surly wolf.

"Uh, totally fine here! Never better actua—uhh... I just remembered I have this huge—uh—research thingy for… you know," He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and shrugged spastically before standing—and he so did not slam his kneecap against the table. "So yeah, gotta go!"

Running only a few feet before halting in a flailing jerk of limbs Stiles turned back to face Erica. He motioned with a finger slice across the neck and a stern shake of the head, hoping and praying it came off as threatening—eyes stubbornly averted from Derek's now deeply brooding face.

Ignorant to his name called by Scott in the parking lot, Stiles fled from the diner like a man on fire. His veins sure felt on fire as they pumped hot, hot blood straight to his newly awakened heart and other places south of the border. He needed to get home now and think and pray to all sorts of deities and lets be honest, jack off furiously. Because today, right at that very moment in the diner with the milk shakes and sinful licking of spoons Stiles realized he was in love with Derek. He was jumbled words, wobbly-kneed, doe-eyed, head-over-heels ridiculous type in love and fuck if that wasn't the most terrifying thing he had to face in the last year.