Stiles didn’t think he’d ever actually reach the tender age of eighty. Had been pretty convinced, at times, that he wouldn’t live until he graduated high school.

Here he was, though, in his death bed. And, wow, that sounded so dramatic. But… he was dying. And in a bed. So…

Derek was sitting off to the side and wasn’t that a surprise.

He’d thought he and Scott would be the bromance of the ages. Except they’d grown up and apart.

Now he and Derek? Epic, boss-level bromance.

Derek had been a loyal companion ever since Stiles’ days an FBI intern. He’d saved Derek from mass murder charges and Derek had carried him out after being shot in the foot.

They’d done a pretty frantic road trip to get back to Beacon Hills and cemented what would be the best relationship of Stiles’ life.

Stiles was old now. Too old to bother lying to himself.

He’d wanted more. Well, okay, he’d known he’d wanted more for a long time.

It was hard to get to know Derek Hale without falling in love with him. Stiles hadn’t even bothered to try and stop himself.

Even in their early days, before they were friends, they’d had all these charged moments. A spark (shout out to Deaton) that had the potential to burn hot.

Nothing had ever come of it. It had hurt for a long, long time. But Stiles was never one to do the easy thing or abandon a friend.

He’d never stopped loving Derek. Never stopped wishing for more.

But it had stopped hurting. Derek gave him so much. Made him so happy.

It also helped that wolves were tactile and he could get all the hugs and cuddles he wanted.

He’d dated a few people, usually when he craved the sort of company Derek couldn’t provide.

Never lasted long.

How could it when Stiles was so deeply in love with Derek?

Stiles did believe you could love more than one person. That Derek could’ve been his platonic life partner while he had someone else. Stiles had a lot of love to give. Except that he tended to focus on a few key people and gave them everything. Growing up it’d been his parents and Scott.

Stiles didn’t care about having lots of friends as long as he had one he could love completely.

He had Derek. He also had a pack.

His life had been full and rich.

“Hey, Derek? You know I love you, right? Like, dude, I love you,” he told Derek he loved him all the time but he was crossing over into romantic love confession territory. But, hey, isn’t that what death beds are for?

“Yeah, Stiles. I know,” Derek’s eyes crinkled and he had smile lines and Stiles was absurdly proud that he could take a lot of credit for helping Derek build a life full of laughter and smiles.

“No, but like, I’m in love with you,” Stiles said seriously.

Derek’s face sobered, “I know.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst. Don’t Han Solo me on my death bed,” Stiles groaned.

Derek had a brief flash of a smile but his eyes grew soft and wet, “I know, Stiles. I’ve known for a long time. I’m sorry I couldn’t…”

Stiles had learned to stop interrupting Derek because it made him shut down but… “No, man. Don’t apologise for that. I knew you couldn’t. It’s why I never asked. Why I waited until now to say something. It’s okay. You understand? It’s okay.

“I wouldn’t have said anything now. Would’ve skipped happily into my grave never saying a word. But I know you, sourwolf. Maybe I should’ve said something earlier because I knew you felt guilty about it. But I know you’ll feel even guiltier after I die. That you’ll beat yourself up for not giving me the romance and sex I wanted, just to make me happy.

“But fuck that. You’ve made me so happy. You were enough. What we had was enough. It was awesome and epic and I couldn’t have asked for more. I didn’t ask for more. You gave me everything you could and it was good. So you don’t need to apologise and you aren’t allowed to feel guilty. That’s my dying request to you. No guilt and no regrets over what we had,” it was probably impossible to look stern and intimidating when you were currently dying and old and frail, but he gave it his best shot.

Derek was openly crying right now. Other than when he was forced to kill Boyd, Stiles couldn’t think of another time he’d seen Derek cry. How, even when crying, did Derek still manage to be beautiful?

Unfair.

“That wasn’t what I was going to apologise for. I’ve been in love with you so long I can barely remember not loving you. But I wasn’t brave enough. I couldn’t… None of my romantic partners ended well. I thought if we stayed friends that I could keep you,” Derek confessed.

“Sourwolf. You think I don’t know? Of course, I know you’re in love me. It was never about love, with us. Listen to what I said: you gave me everything you could. I never asked for more. We can’t know, anymore, if being more would’ve been as awesome has what we have. Hard to argue it was a mistake when you got to keep me, isn’t it? And I got to keep you. How can I regret that?” Stiles smiled.

All of this was so Derek. And while he normally thought doing a death bed love confession was kind of a dick move, Derek needed this. He would not die having Derek think he was anything less than happy.

“You never got a chance at real love, though. Never had a deep, romantic relationship. Didn’t get married or have kids. You could’ve had so much more,” Derek insisted.

“Oh, no. Stop right there, Derek. Remember who I am. I am Stiles Stilinski and I have always made my own choices. Never once have I done a single thing that I didn’t think was right. Do not disrespect me or my choices. Our love is real. Maybe it isn’t romance and sex and whatever. You’re right, I could’ve had all of those things. I chose not to. I chose you. I chose you everyday. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I could’ve had all that but none of it would’ve been better than being with you,” and, okay, so Stiles was also crying.

He was dying. It was allowed.

Derek just climbed into his bed to curl up next to him. It was familiar, comforting.

Stiles smiled.

This is why nothing could’ve been better.