Rude Wolf- Part II
It wasn't that Stiles really cared whether or not Derek talked to him. It wasn't like he was apart of his pack, he wasn't apart of the exclusive Club de Loup, so Derek had no reason to talk to him. Derek ignoring him, on any other occasion, wouldn't bother Stiles at all. Nope, not one bit. Except, this wasn't any other occasion. Stiles kissed Derek, and Derek, even though it was only a split second, kissed him back before they hit the ground the other night.
So here he was, standing outside the charred remains of the Hale household pacing awkwardly in front of the door. He knew Derek was in there. He knew Derek knew he was here, and it pissed him off that he was deliberately ignoring him. Annoyed, and too afraid to barge into the house, Stiles sat on the porch and leaned against the front door.
"Can we like...talk about this? I mean...I kissed you." Stiles started resting his head on the door frame, "In all honesty though, you kissed me first, you know, the forehead thing...Did I read that wrong? Shit. I totally read that wrong. You probably meant it as some messed up way to mark your prey before you kill it? Ha...That would make you like Kissin' Kate Barlow! God! I love that movie! The lizards were kind of creepy though, gave me nightmares. Sorry...I don't know why I'm here. Just forget it happened, okay?" There was still silence and Stiles sighed, maybe Derek really wasn't home and he was actually just talking to himself. He got to his feet and his heart felt heavy. He didn't expect anything more to come from the other night, it's not like he obsessed over it for two days straight. He didn't need Derek Hale. He didn't want him either.
Suddenly his pinned against a beam on the porch, the impact causing the air from his lungs to escape in one unmanly sounding squeak. Derek glared down at him, his hands firmly around Stiles waist, before pecking his lips softly with his own.
"You talk way too much." Derek said letting the boy go. Stiles' heart was hammering in his chest and he was suddenly hyper-aware that Derek could hear it, so naturally it got worse.
"Can you not do that?! God, I have bruises you know!" Stiles said angrily rubbing his back.
Derek frowned a strange guilt bubbling in his stomach, "Let me see." he commanded.
"No. I think I'm just going to leave. My head hurts too much to deal with this right now." Stiles turned away and started down the stairs, but he froze not a second later, a hand snaked up the back of his shirt and lifted the fabric a little. Stiles hung his head. He really did have bruises, he wasn't like all the rest, he couldn't just heal every time he was knocked into something.
"Did I do this?" Derek asked in barely a whisper lightly touching a dark purple bruise on Stiles' lower back.
"Yes. It's not all you though. You werewolves just don't understand that I'm not like you, I can't just heal." Derek dropped his hand and grabbed Stiles wrist and pulled the boy into a tight hug, his palms flat on the bruised area. Stiles was reluctant to hug back but a warmth spread through his back and the pain there seemed to disappear. Derek let go and turned away looking like a kicked puppy and slammed the door.
Stiles gawked at the door for a moment before he raised down to his jeep and lifted the back of his shirt. He craned his neck to see his back in the little side mirror and his heart skipped when he did, the bruise was gone.