“Maybe what I crave

is something more than a friendly hug

or a gentle kiss on the cheek from you.” 

A/N: Just something I've done for a Merlin Fanbook. The story took place in the Victorian era, in which Arthur was an promising artist of some repute but suffered from artist’s block for quite a long while until the day he met a beautiful young nobleman called Merlin. 

Derek passively watches Stiles push past him into the loft. “Good for you?”

“No, not good for me,” Stiles says, irritated. “Not good for me because it was horrible.”

Derek is…really confused. It’s not like he and Stiles don’t talk – Derek might go so far as to say they’re approaching the border between acquaintances and friends – but they basically stick to safe topics like movies and Scott. They don’t really talk about their personal lives all that often.

He shuts the door and tentatively takes a seat on the couch where Stiles has already made himself quite at home. He’s not sure if he should give Stiles some room, but he doesn’t say anything so Derek leans back and settles in.

“And I’m telling you this,” Stiles says like he knows what Derek’s thinking, “because it’s all your fault it was horrible.”

“But I wasn’t there.” Derek can feel his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. He hadn’t left the loft all night, but maybe whatever went wrong was his fault. A lot of things were his fault.

Stiles’ frown finally disappears, replaced with a hopelessly fond smile that spreads slowly across his face. “See, that? That’s why tonight went so badly. I kept thinking about you the whole time. And then I realized that probably means I’m kind of into you, so I came here to check and you’re being all adorable and I think we should kiss to be sure.”

Derek just stares at him for a few seconds because that was a lot of information to take in. Finally, he asks, “You want to kiss me?”

Stiles nods. His heart beat is elevated and his fingers are tapping against his thigh like he does when he’s nervous, but he looks so earnest and excited that something in Derek crumbles. He can’t pretend he’s never thought about what it would be like, can’t push down the want that’s been steadily growing the past couple of years. He doesn’t want to, either.

Derek leans forward slow enough that Stiles has plenty of time to pull away, change his mind, put a stop to all this. But he doesn’t, and their lips meet in a barely there, almost shy kiss.

It’s adorable, and two full-grown men should not kiss adorably, so Derek tilts his head a little, runs his tongue against Stiles’ bottom lip, and everything suddenly gets decidedly less adorable.

After some time (it could have been a minute or ten; Derek brain kind of shut off when Stiles decided it would be a good idea to playfully nibble Derek’s top lip) Stiles smiles into the kiss and starts to shake a little with suppressed laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says as he pulls back. “I was just wondering how I could ever have found you intimidating when you taste like pineapples.”

bigger plot twist: two female characters are platonic friends and aren’t hyper sexualized together by the male half of the fandom and thus, by the merchandizing team

even bigger plot twist: two male characters aren’t automatically assumed straight until proven otherwise

Well how can I resist that??

The first time it happened, Stiles didn’t think anything of it. Standing over the smoldering remains of the creature that just tried to kill them, he said “nice job”, gave Derek a friendly slap on the back, and suggested they go out for celebratory we didn’t die today milkshakes. He was pleasantly surprised when Derek both agreed and paid, and he dipped fries in both to see if they went better with his strawberry or Derek’s chocolate.

(The answer was chocolate, and Derek didn’t even get mad when three of Stiles’ fries were lost in his shake.)

The second time, he was marveling at the obscure text Derek managed to track down and said, “dude, you are literally the best, I’m buying you pizza!” And shockingly, Derek let him, and even told him what toppings he wanted. That might not seem like much in the grand scheme of things, but Stiles had spent years watching in silent judgment as Derek picked off half the toppings from the pizzas he ordered for the pack, as if he couldn’t get another for himself that he actually liked.

Stiles told him he liked the way he rearranged the loft, and Derek sat through the entire extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring on his new flat screen.

When he mentioned liking the fancy pasta dish Derek made and asked for a lesson to make it, Derek agreed. He showered compliments on Derek’s meticulous overhaul of the bestiary and Derek let him borrow three books.

Derek never let anyone borrow his books, they never left the loft.

These events were all spread out enough that it took a while to click, but when it did, it was both a revelation and incredibly depressing: Derek had no idea what to do with even the most casual of compliments.

Sarcasm was no issue, Stiles knew that much—he’d personally thrown out enough nice martyr complex, jackass and the like to figure that out—but anything that was even remotely sincere?

He started paying attention after that, to the way Derek would stiffen and his eyes would widen a bit before his face closed off again. He would go quiet, maybe nod, and quickly agree to pretty much anything just to get the focus back off himself.

Because Derek was actually embarrassed by compliments.

Me reading a fluff fic

Me reading a fic full of angst

Me when I don’t see a cliffhanger coming

Me when the author kills my fave character

Me when my main ship gets together

Me when the author finishes the fic

Wooooow, you’re through the fifth season! I enjoyed reading all your messages a loooot :D most reminded me of my first time watching it *one more Merlin fandom group cuddle* Oh, and about Merlin returning to Camelot or not: