I hope you donāt mind that I ficced all over your art. O.O
āAre you fucking kidding me right now Derek?ā Stiles yells, voice reaching the point where it starts to go pitchy. The tension is high and thick and buzzing in the air, accumulated from the past half hour of fighting with only their words for weapons.Ā
Which between them is much sharper than tooth or claw anyway.Ā
āThere was something off about him,ā Derek tells him resolutely, arms crossed firmly over his chest. Heās a bit louder than usual, but heās nowhere near as animated in his anger as Stiles. Not that thatās a difficult feat. āI donāt know what you want me to say.ā
Stiles lets out a wordless little screech, so frustrated that heās having trouble forming actual syllables instead of angry, animal sounds. āDude, I want you to apologize! He was the first fucking normal person Iāve met since I was sixteen years old! And you justāyou pissed all over it!āĀ
āYou want normal Stiles? The door is right fucking there,ā Derek replies, jaw clenched and hand gesturing to the loftās exit. āNo one is forcing you to be here. No one has ever forced you to be here.āĀ
Stiles goes still at the words. His whole body seems to relax, even the little tick in his jaw. He stares hard at Derekās face, eyes flicking from left to right as he examines him. Picks him apart. Takes him in.
A humorless laugh falls from his slack mouth. āYouāre a fucking idiot,ā he says finally, turning with a shake of his head and slamming the door behind him.Ā
Derek feels the fight leave his body in a rush, like a dam finally crumbling under the weight of rough and angry waters. He scrubs a hand down his face.
He hadnāt meant to ruin Stilesā date. Heās just soā¦stupidly in love with the kid. And the jealousy went howling viciously through his veins and clouded his head like thick, hot smoke and heād justā
The pitter-patter of gentle rain against his window suddenly becomes a roar as the sky cracks open and pours down on the city.Ā
And Stiles doesnāt have his Jeep with him.Ā
Derek follows the path the boy took out of the building, takes the steps two at a time to gain a little time, plunges into the cold rain like ripping off a band aid. A little ways in front of him, Stilesā red over shirt, obscured a little by the downpour, is trudging forward.Ā
"Stiles!ā Derek yells over water pelting the pavement with a sound like displaced static. āStiles!ā
āWhat?!ā Stiles snaps, body whipping around to face him. āWhat do want Derek?!ā
Theyāre standing so much closer than they had been, emotions crackling like electricity between them. āI donātāā
āI canāt keep doing this,ā Stiles cuts him off, motioning wildly to the space between them.Ā
"Whatās āthisā?ā he asks, voice soft and even against Stilesā rough and warbling.Ā
āThis thingĀ where Iāmā¦completely in love with you and you refuse to let me move on!ā
Derekās caught a little breathless, eyes focusing on the slick pink of Stilesās lips, on the droplets thatĀ pool in his philtrum, collecting in the bow of his upper lip.Ā
"Of course I do Derek! This unrequited thing is bullshit!ā
āItās not cute! It hurts and it just keeps hurting no matter how māā
But Derek drinks the rest of his words right out of Stilesā mouth, lips colliding with his and arms snaking around his waist like heās trying to meld them into one being.Ā
Stiles tries to finish his sentence at first, words muffled and unintelligible, before his body catches up with Derekās. He pulls back just enough to get his arms up and around Derekās neck, suddenly returning the kiss with hard ferocity. Devouring it. Swallowing it down. His body is cold and wet but Derekās mouths is hot, and his hand is curled in the fabric at Derekās shoulder, and the werewolfās tongue is fucking Stilesā mouth, and his hand comes up from the boys back to cradle the base of his skull, and itāsā¦itās not perfect.Ā
Between kisses, Stiles tells Derek, āI donāt want normal.ā
And Derek replies, āI donāt want anybody but you.ā
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