Stiles when you kissed him at the ice rink.

His lips were soft and warm on yours, his hands trembling as he held your waist. While your eyes were closed, his were wide open in utter surprise, not expecting the kiss at all. He had only reached for you when you wobbled on the ice, holding your waist and yours flew to hold the sides of his purple hoodie, bodies pressed together.

And next thing he knew, you were kissing him.

You pulled away slowly, a smile curving at your lips. Opening your eyes to meet his, you breathed out a laugh. "You okay?" You asked, seeing the starstruck look in his whiskey eyes.

He blinked rapidly, stuttering out an answer, "Uh, yeah. I—I was not expecting that."

"That's the beauty of a surprise," you poked at him, clinging tightly to his jacket.

He licked his bottom lip, hands tightening around your waist, before he blurted out, "So you didn't agree to going on this date out of pity?"

"No! Of course not. I like you, Stiles. A lot."

His heart fluttered, as cheesy as it sounds. "I like you, too."

As he went in for another kiss, you wiggled out of his hold and push one foot in front of the other, skating away from him and laughing. "If you want another kiss, you're gonna have to catch me."

He looked after you, in perpetual awe, blinking rapidly again.

"Good thing I love a challenge."