First huge fight + Sterek
Right, let’s see what I can make of this. *cracks knuckles* … It’s more Stiles exploding than a real fight … I hope you like it anyway?
16. First huge fight
The plate crashes into the wall where seconds ago Derek’s body had been. It shatters into a million pieces of course, because he put everything he has behind it. Not that it matters, really, because his boyfriend is a werewolf and faster. And stronger. And all around better.
Another plate finds it’s untimely demise against another part of the kitchen wall. This time there is even a bit of his magic behind the throw and the only thing left of that plate is a faint layer of dust sinking to the ground.
“Stiles, stop it!” Derek growls, though his hands are up, palms facing outwards. A gesture of peace. Of course, Stiles thinks furiously. Of course Derek isn’t going to do anything to him. He doesn’t even have do anything. He only needs to wait until Stiles tires himself out because he’s still just a plain fucking human!
“What do you mean? Just a ‘plain human’?” Derek asks, still not lowering his hands even if Stiles has run out of amunition for now. “You’re not just a plain human. You’re our emissary or did you forget that? You’re an integral part of the pack!”
It feels a bit like the straw that breaks the camel’s back. At least to Stiles. He roars, his magic flares and the table along with the chairs disintegrate into nothing but dust.
“You’re asking me, - ME! - whether I forgot that I’m the emissary? Seriously?” his voice is quiet, calm and dangerously low. Stiles can see Derek shiver because it means that he’s fucking furious. “I haven’t forgotten that I’m the emissary of this pack, Derek, but I think you forget it with a rather astounding messure of consitency. Or why is it that you never - NEVER - let me help when it comes to fighting? I can take care of myself, Derek. I’ve TRAINED to fight, with weapons, with magic and with my own bare hands!”
He’s breathing hard, his blood pounds in his ears and his vision turns slightly grey around the edges. He knows that he should calm down, but he can’t. His control is slipping and even though he’s furious with Derek, for never letting him help, even though he CAN, for always trying to keep him back, for jumping in front of every single monster that comes Stiles’ way, he can’t bring himself to let lose. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he hurt Derek. Even if his boyfriend forgave him.
“Stiles,” Derek says, quietly, and takes a step closer.
“I need to get out,” Stiles says, sliding along the counter to bring more distance between them. He loves Derek, with all his heart and he even regrets his outburst already. Yet, he knows that his magic needs time to calm down and if he comes too close, his boyfriend will get hurt. Badly.
“Stiles!” Derek tries again but Stiles only shakes his head and practically runs through the backdoor into the yard and then into the woods.
*~*~*
Stiles runs for what feels like hours. His chest hurts, his cheeks burn from the harsh wind and his socks are already soaked through. It had been raining the night before. The trees fly passed him and he dodges most of the branches almost blindly. He knows the forest almost as good as Derek by now, considering that they started to run through them almost every days.
First to build up Stiles’ stamina and afterwards because it became a nice routine. Right now it helps him deal with the angry magic branding through his veins.
The thing is, that Stiles knows why Derek does what he does. Why he tries to keep him from fighting. Why he tries to keep him on the outer edges of every bad encounter they have.
It’s the same reason why he himself always tries to keep Derek from doing those stunts. Like throwing himself in front of spears, bullets, arrows and on one memorable occasion an arm. They want to keep each other safe. To the point of their own destruction it seems.
Stiles crashes to his knees when his body starts to give out. He has no idea where he is but he knows that he’s not alone. Derek has been following him of course. Nobody runs around the forest alone. It’s too dangerous even if Beacon Hills has reached a peaceful balance by now.
It takes a while but his breathing returns to a normal pattern while his magic settles once more. It closes back in, instead of expanding, until Stiles feels it like a second skin.
“Do you feel better now?” Derek asks from somewhere behind him. Stiles closes his eyes and hangs his head. Still he nods once.
“I’m sorry,” Stiles says, after the silence goes on for too long.
“It’s fine.” The reply is expected and they both know that it isn’t. Yet Stiles remains quiet. He doesn’t want to start a fight again, not in that moment. His heart is still racing from the last one.
“I love you, you know that right?” Stiles asks, not looking up but relaxing when Derek’s arms embrace him. He sags back against the strong chest and revels in the warmth that seeps through their clothes.
“I know and I love you, too,” Derek whispers and presses a kiss against Stiles’ temple. “But you’re going to come with me when we buy a new table and new chairs.”
Stiles groans but remainse quiet.
‘Send me a ship and number for domestic/intimacy drabbles!’









