If you are still taking prompts could you maybe do sterek #22? Thank you!
“You make me so happy.”
Derek can’t help it. He can’t help but smile whenever Stiles is around. Their constant back and forth with the insults has become more fond then a way to show each other how much they dislike each other.
His pack has started to notice. Erica will smirk and wink at Stiles, making him blush and will have private conversations with Derek about his feelings for Stiles. Which he has. Strongly.
Isaac is the one to fill Scott in because he can also sense Derek’s random spikes of happiness when Stiles is in the apartment.
Boyd keeps it to himself, but he always pats Derek’s shoulder when Derek watches Stiles leave for the night. Tells him that he should go for it. Stiles feels the same way.
Cora always makes sure Derek is next to Stiles on the sofa, pulling Stiles to a seat and sitting beside him, moving when Derek comes in and Cora slinks off to Lydia. Stiles just blushes and pats the seat for Derek to sit down.
The whole pack knows Derek likes Stiles and that the feelings are mutual for Stiles. Derek even knows.
But Derek still has that voice in the back of his head, the one that tells him Stiles deserves better. That Derek doesn’t belong with Stiles. The voice always sounds like Gerard Argent. That one night has always plagued him.
It’s when Stiles and Derek are alone, something that happens regularly now, when everything changes. Stiles will come in from work, tired and asks if he can crash on the sofa because Derek’s apartment is closer to work and fifteen hour shifts always knacker him out.
Derek just nods and drapes a blanket over Stiles when he falls asleep.
This time though Derek knows Stiles hasn’t been working today. This time Stiles walks into the loft and straight up to Derek.
Derek is glued to the spot, stood still in the middle of his room, between his sofa and bed. He was just about to tuck in for the night.
Stiles walks up to him, stops a few feet away and takes a deep breath. “We need to talk.” He says, letting it out all in one breath. His fingers are playing with the hems of his sleeves. A nervous tick that Derek sees often.
“Okay.”
Stiles nods and steps forward slightly. “The pack were at mine tonight. They told me that if I hurt you or break your heart, then they’ll kill me and they’ll do it the most painful way possible.”
Derek gulps and in his mind he makes a note to make training extremely difficult on them tomorrow.
“I mean, that is the kind of thing you do when two people are dating. Your friends threaten them to never hurt you. And they threatened me. I mean, that makes me wonder why they think we’re dating.”
Derek bites at his lower lip. He’s thankful that Stiles stays quiet as he thinks. Stiles has been doing that a lot lately. It’s Derek’s turn to take a deep breath. He might as well admit it. Stiles is old enough to make his own choices. If he wants nothing to do with Derek then fine. Derek will sulk for a few weeks, but he’ll get over it. The voice in the back of his mind will help with that. But Derek can’t just admit to Stiles that he’s falling in love. That would be sure to scare him away. He looks at Stiles, making sure Stiles is looking his way when he finally lets out. “You make me so happy, Stiles.”
Derek can hear Stiles’ sharp intake of breath. Can hear his heart start to race. Knows what Derek is saying without him actually needing to admit it. That’s the main thing he likes about Stiles, they know each other so well that Stiles can pick apart at what he’s saying, know the real words he wants to express underneath.
Stiles closes the distance between them, hesitantly resting his hands, palms flat, against his chest as he leans in. Their lips are barely touching, but Derek’s heartbeat has finally matched Stiles and he’s sure Stiles can feel it beneath his hands.
“Can I?” Stiles asks and Derek nods, knows what he’s asking for as his eyes move to look at his lips. Stiles swipes his tongue over the bottom one and Derek chases it, leans in and presses his lips against Stiles.
Stiles sinks into Derek’s chest, pressing back, their lips moving in such a tender way that Derek aches. His hands find his way to Stiles hips, squeezing softly as he returns the kiss.
When they finally break apart, Stiles leans back and a grin is on his face, his pupils dilated as he looks up at Derek. “You make me happy too.”
(I haven’t really wrote in such a long time, so sorry if this isn’t good)
Derek has become much more laid back recently. It has been two years since the last attack on Beacon Hills. The only supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills are the ones who live there.
In those two years, Derek managed to actually buy a house. Erica, Boyd and Isaac live in said house. Pack nights, every Friday are spent in the house and pack cuddles are actually a thing!
It took a while for Derek to join in, months of Stiles slowly bringing him into the mass of people that cover the floor in between the sofas and the TV. It started with Derek on the outside, curling up with Isaac first.
Now though, after eight months Derek is in the middle of the floor, Stiles to his left and Lydia to his right. Derek’s arms resting comfortably on their shoulders.
Stiles loves this new side of Derek. He smiles more and actually keeps conversation going. He’s a great alpha, he keeps the fridge and cupboards stocked up with foods that everyone loves. Stiles even found his favourite Gatorade in the fridge.
Stiles love those moments, where he is surrounded by pack. But what Stiles loves more is the quiet nights where it’s just him and Derek.
They started when Stiles admits he hates being on his own every Wednesday because his dad always works the night shift.
Derek offered his house to Stiles, told him to come over. Stiles expected Derek to leave him to watch TV on his own, eating his Funyuns that Derek keeps in his cupboard for him.
Instead, Derek sat next to Stiles and asked him if he would watch The Walking Dead from the beginning because he’s always wanted to watch it.
Now every Wednesday Stiles pulls into the driveway. The pack always seems to disappear on these nights. Stiles asks but Derek shrugs, ears pink as he tells Stiles he has no idea.
When he walks in, he’s always greeted by Derek who he always finds in the kitchen. Derek is a great cook and Stiles loves that he has a meal once a week that he didn’t prepare.
Stiles always brings the snacks for when they sit on the sofa. Derek loves Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.
They eat at the table, each talking about their weeks. It’s so domestic that Stiles always fills up with love for Derek. Once upon a time, Stiles had to force a conversation out of Derek. Now when they sit down, with their plates in front of them, Derek starts talking about his week, always mentioning how Mrs Anderson, who works in the grocery store, tries to set Derek up with her granddaughter. Stiles always snorts out a laugh at that and Derek will blush and ask Stiles how his week is going.
Once dinner is done with, they both curl up on the sofa. Derek always has a grey comforter hanging over the arm because he knows how Stiles likes to be warm and comfortable when he watches TV.
So now, Stiles sits down and flings the comforter over his and Derek’s legs as he settles in. Derek always sits right beside him, their legs pressed firmly against each other.
Stiles would never have realised about Derek if Erica had never told him. But when Erica growled and pushed Stiles up the wall, telling him how if he ever hurts Derek he will be disembowelled, that Stiles fixed up all the pieces of the puzzle.
Derek allowed Stiles into his house every Wednesday, cooks him a meal and then makes sure Stiles is comfortable for when he watches TV. Derek makes the pack disappear every Wednesday so that they could be alone. That Derek wanted to watch a TV show that Stiles is in love with. Even every Friday, Derek makes sure that Stiles is always by him during the pack bonding.
It’s what gives Stiles the courage to pause the current episode they’re watching, making Derek turn toward him with a small frown on his features. “Is everything okay?”
Stiles shakes his head and he watches as Derek’s frown deepens, his worry evident. “What’s wrong?”
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
Derek’s face switches from worried to panicked in under a second before he schools(?) his face. “I don’t-”
“We have a date night Derek.” Stiles points out. “Every Wednesday night, you cook me dinner. I bring you Reeses.”
Derek is still keeping a stoic look on his face.
“Are you seriously going to pretend that this isn’t a date?” Stiles asks and as Derek’s silence prolongs, Stiles shakes his head with a huff. “Forget it then.” He says, pressing play on the remote and turning back to the TV.
They get about five minutes further into the episode before Derek grabs the remote and presses pause.
Stiles looks at him, about to tell him to press play again, as Derek leans in and presses a chaste kiss against his lips, obviously hesitant. When he pulls away it’s Stiles’ turn to frown.
“Don’t just kiss me because you know I want this. I don’t want a pity kiss Derek.”
“It’s not.” Derek says as he sighs and runs his hand through his hair, mussing it up. “I just, I’m not a good person Stiles.”
Stiles sits up, turning his upper body to Derek. “You are. You brought a house, you adopted Isaac so that he’s not put into the system. You keep all our favourite foods in the house. You let me into your house every Wednesday because you know I don’t like to be alone. You helped Boyd see that Erica liked him. You look after us all. You are a good person.” Stiles says honestly.
“Are you sure you want this? Want me?” Derek asks, and his voice is so small that Stiles aches. He aches with the fact that he thinks he’s going to be a burden on Stiles’ life when he’s far from that.
“I want every part of you. Good and bad.” Stiles says, his heart beat keeping steady as he makes sure Derek knows he’s telling the truth. “If you’ll let me.” Stiles adds, because he doesn’t want to pressure Derek when it comes to this. Ever.
Derek answers by leaning in again, this time his lips pressed surely against Stiles’. His hand moving to cup the side of Stiles’ face. They kiss like that, soft and slow, for a few minutes before Stiles pulls away with a grin. “Does that mean this is officially date night?”
“All of them have been date nights, I just didn’t think you would want me back.” Derek admits and damn his ears are turning pink again.
“Well now you know.” Stiles says, his grin still on his face as he leans into Derek’s side. Derek’s arm wraps around him, hand resting on his hip as Stiles hits play.
Derek presses a kiss the top of Stiles’ head and Stiles can’t wait to see Erica win the pool on him and Derek.
“You’re in love with my brother!” Scott accuses - completely out of the blue if you ask Stiles. There is nothing whatsoever that could even explain why this question would cross his best friend’s mind. In the middle of them being Call of Duty no less.
“No!” Stiles gets out, grabbing in chest in betrayal. “How dare you accuse me with such blatant lies.”
“You’ve been talking about him nonstop for ten minutes,” Scott counters, and honestly it’s like they’re in court. Where’s the jury? “I kept count.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’m merely just explaining to you in detail how your brother is an asshole to me at school.”
“Excruciating detail,” Scott snorts then pauses the game to really make their conversation serious. “I don’t see what his five o'clock shadow has anything to do with your story.”
“It was ten in the morning!” Stiles is quick to argue because it’s just wrong. Derek is barely eighteen and just four months ago, his ears were too big for his head and now he’s suddenly like a sex god or something. Stiles mentioned all of this in his rant, and he can maybe see how Scott took it the wrong way. “It should be scientifically impossible to sprout five o’clock shadow in the morning. He should wait until noon at the earliest.”
The room is silent save for the background noises from the game. Scott is giving Stiles a look that Stiles refuses to decipher because he has pride and doesn’t deserve to be looked at like he’s being ridiculous. Because he’s not.
“...I don’t think it’s physically possible to make your facial hair grow faster,” another familiar voice adds from the door. The door...that Scott didn’t close when they came up here after school to eat Doritos and play video games. Fucking Scott. “Also, why do either of you care about my facial hair?” Derek’s look is focused on Stiles; he’s not imagining this at all. There’s like this fiery glare of hatred pointed at Stiles, but not Scott even though it was Scott who fucking started the whole thing.
“That’s not what this - ugh,” Stiles ends it on a groan. “This is your fault.” He points his finger straight at his best friend. “I’m just gonna go home. I have an essay that’s due tomorrow.”
Derek mock cheers for the doorway and walks away humming what Stiles swears on his grave is Ding Dong the Witch is Dead. Really Stiles doesn’t deserve this. He’s done nothing wrong.
“Stiles, don’t go,” Scott whines, grabbing Stiles’ wrist when he tries to walk away. “Just because you and my brother are idiots doesn’t mean you need to leave.”
Stiles glances at the screen then back to Scott and shrugs, taking his wrist back. “I really do have an essay. And your brother is an asshole. You don’t know what he did today.” Stiles hadn’t really gotten to his point in his long rant about Derek, the reason Stiles is so done with the guy.
“What did he do?” Scott asks, eyes wide.
Stiles shakes his head and swallows. “Doesn’t matter. If you really want to know, he can own up to it.”
***********
After the front door closes, Derek lets out a breath of relief. Stiles is gone. No more worrying about him, no more feeling contradicting emotions of betrayal and turned on. Those two shouldn’t even coincide. Derek shouldn’t
like
Stiles after what Stiles did to him. It’s not logical, and it’s teetering on stupid.
But seconds after, Scott is practically ripping open Derek’s door open so there goes his peace.
“What did you do to Stiles?” Scott demands, his floppy hair juxtaposing with his genuinely angry face so Derek just thinks he looks adorable, which he doesn’t admit because Scott is actually mad.
“I got revenge,” Derek tells him simply, looking back to his laptop where he’s typing up an essay. “I didn’t do anything he didn’t deserve.”
Scott is almost growling when he sighs. “That’s not an answer, Derek.”
So Derek explains the whole thing to him. “You know how last week I had to go to the hospital? That was Stiles’ fault.”
His little brother’s face scrunches up in confusion. “How was an allergic reaction to your shaving cream Stiles’ fault?”
Derek rolls his eyes because Scott blindly believed in his lie that he told because he wasn’t sure how he felt about Stiles’ betrayal. He didn’t want Scott to be mad at him, but today something in him changed. Derek doesn’t care anymore. Stiles hurt him so Derek did something small back to him. Really it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been.
“He put Nair in my jockstrap,” Derek outright tells his brother.
Scott doesn’t look any less confused. “What’s Nair?”
Derek puts his head in his hands and doesn’t know how his brother is so sheltered when he grew up with him and Laura as older siblings. “It’s hair removal. It just burns the hair off your skin.”
“Stiles put that in your jockstrap?!” Scott exclaims, sitting in Derek’s desk chair in shock. “Stiles? My best friend Stiles?”
“The one and only.” He resists the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly how many people do they know named Stiles?
“How do you know it was Stiles?” Scott asks because he refuses to believe his best friend would do that. Scott has always seen the best in everyone.
“Because I saw him sneaking out of the locker room as we came in for practice,” Derek answers, trying to hide the sadness in his voice. Honestly, he really wished what he saw wasn’t real, that it wasn’t Stiles, but he’d recognize that mess of gelled brown hair anywhere.
“So what did you to him in retaliation?” Scott is frowning again like he doesn’t condone either of them. Well at least he’s not picking Stiles over Derek like he always does.
Derek mumbles his answer, maybe a little ashamed of what he did. Stiles deserved it because Derek had to spend the night in the ER with hives all around and on his dick because he had an allergic reaction to the cocoa butter that was in the Nair. It was embarrassing because his mamá had to treat it.
“You did what?” Scott asks in almost disbelief.
“I told Lydia he wet the bed.”
“That was like ten years ago, dude!” Scott yells. “He loves her, and you completely ruined that for him!”
“He gave me an allergic reaction on my dick. Do you know how fucking weird and uncomfortable that is?” Derek yells right back.
Scott huffs at him. “You need to apologize to Stiles.”
“When he apologizes to me maybe I will.”
Scott glares at him and storms out of his room. “You’re the worst brother ever!” he yells after slamming the door.
Derek slumps into his bed and doesn’t actually disagree with Scott on that one. Sure, what Stiles did was awful and honestly really hurt Derek, but he shouldn’t have done anything back. What is he five? God he’s so immature.
It’s not even two minutes before Laura is walking into his room without knocking of course because when does his family ever bother to knock. “It’s been awhile since you two have fought,” she comments with a raised eyebrow as she leans against the doorjamb.
It only takes ten seconds before Derek crumbles and tells her everything because it’s Laura and he always tells Laura everything. She knows about his growing crush on Stiles, she knows about his creepy math teacher this semester. Everything.
“You need to apologize to him,” is the first thing out of Laura’s mouth. “Like what he did wasn’t okay, but neither was what you did and you need to be the bigger person here. You’re the older one anyway.”
“By a year,” Derek mumbles.
“And let’s look at how much you’ve matured in just 6 months,” Laura counters with her eyebrows raised looking exactly like Mom. “I’m not saying Stiles is super immature except he kind of is, but not where it counts. So you should talk to him too. Not just mumble an apology.”
Derek knows she’s right; it’s exactly what he was thinking. But he needed someone to outright tell him what to do, which is what Laura is good for.
She walks to his bed and kisses the top of his head and then pushes his head away. “Now I’m gonna go do damage control on the little brother. You should try too. But wait until tomorrow.”
Derek nods, seeing her point. She leaves his room without another word, leaving him to think. He’s sure Stiles is seething. Rightfully so. But Derek has a right to be mad too. Until he gets a text from Boyd who’s on the basketball team with him.
Boyd: So personal question. Did you happen to have all of your pubic hair burned off last week or was it just my jockstrap?
Fuck. Derek made a huge mistake.
***********
The document is completely empty. It’s almost midnight and it’s empty. Stiles can’t even think of a bullshit topic for the essay. He’s just...he’s so mad. He can’t believe Derek would do that to him. He and Derek have never gotten along. The dude never took to Stiles and hated that Stiles monopolized Scott’s attention. But they’ve been friends for 12 years so it’s time Derek got over that. And Derek has never really been nice to Stiles, but he’s never been mean.
It’s not like Derek can be mad about the whole Nair thing. It was just a meaningless prank between the lacrosse and basketball team. None of the other basketball players are mad. Obviously the lacrosse team is waiting retaliation, but this what the teams do. It’s friendly competition between the two biggest sports at BHHS.
So Stiles can’t figure out why Derek would bring up a stupid accident that happened ten years ago. To Lydia. The girl of his dreams. It’s just downright mean. Stiles never expected that from Derek.
His phone goes off and look at that. Another thing he didn’t expect from Derek: a text.
Derek: We need to talk.
Stiles: Uh, no I’m good with us never talking again. Have a shitty life, bro.
Derek: Seriously, Stiles. We NEED to talk. In person.
Stiles groans because does he really need to deal with this at midnight?
Stiles: Do you know what time it is? fuck off
And to Stiles’ surprise and delight, Derek doesn’t respond. Which is good. Because he was being honest when he said he was fine with never talking to Derek again. It’s all so high school, but whatever. Stiles is mad and he’s rightfully mad at Derek.
The next day at school, Stiles is exhausted. He barely slept because he was too busy thinking about Derek and not his essay and then really had to finish his essay, so he got no sleep.
“Dude, you okay?” Scott asks, his voice full of concern.
“Derek told you?” Stiles infers, closing his locker and leaning against it and rubs his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s whatever. One more year and I won’t have to see these shit heads again. Three more months and your brother is off to college and I never have to see him again. I can make it.”
When Stiles’ eyes reopen, Scott looks frustrated like he wants to say something but can’t. “I think you should talk to Derek,” is the only Scott says before he walks away like he can’t handle being around Sitles. Which what? Did Derek turn his best friend against him? No, that’s way too far. That’s just... Fuck that. That’s where Stiles draws the fucking line of what is and isn’t okay, of what he can and can’t take.
He is literally seething, foaming at the mouth mad all day. Or at least half the day. Because he goes looking for Derek at lunch. He’s not in the cafeteria with his popular friends where Lydia is staring at Stiles with a smirk on her face that when Jackson looks away turns into a small smile. Which what? Nope. Not a thing Stiles is dealing with right now. He has bigger fish to fry.
It takes forever to find Derek. He’s not in the locker room and the school is bigger than it should be for a town the size of Beacon Hills, so checking every classroom is going to take forever. He checks every bathroom though. Men’s ones at least. He hasn’t gotten desperate enough to check the girls’ yet.
He finally finds him though. In an abandoned classroom that hasn’t seen the light of day since Harris thankfully quit last year.
Derek is hunched over one of the lab tables, and it looks like he’s shaking. Stiles heart stops at the sight of Derek looking so vulnerable and like he’s desperately trying to hold himself together. Stiles knows that feeling all too well, and as much as he hates Derek right now, the dude doesn’t deserve it.
“Derek?” Stiles softly asks, making his presence known before he gets too close to Derek. “It’s just Stiles.”
Derek doesn’t look up, but he does seem to relax ever so slightly, so Stiles takes it as permission to sit in the chair next to him, making sure to put plenty of distance between the two of them. No touching. Stiles doesn’t know what happened, but he knows that he hates being touched during a panic attack.
“Breathe, dude. You’re okay. It’s okay.” He keeps his voice soft and calm for Derek, not freaking out because he doesn’t want Derek to freak out anymore. “You’re safe.”
“No,” Derek tells him vehemently, his voice breaking. “I’m not safe. I’m not okay. I’m not.”
***********
Earlier that day:
“I’m sorry,” Derek says first thing to Scott. “I’m sorry and I’m going to try to apologize to Stiles too.”
Scott looks at him, and it’s a tense silent before his brother nods, leaning across the center console to hug him. “Thanks, Derek. It means a lot. I always wished you two got along better.”
“Me too,” Derek admits quietly, blushing.
His little brother quickly pulls back to see his face, and Scott looks so delighted. “You like Stiles, don’t you?”
Derek shrugs. “I did. I might still. I don’t know, okay? He and I need to talk.”
Scott nods enthusiastically.
“But you can’t tell him!” Derek quickly demands.
The nod is less enthusiastic this time and by now they’re at school so Scott is running off because he can’t stand being without Stiles this long. Dorks.
The first half of the school day passes just fine, but then Ms. Argent holds him back after the lunch bell rings.
Derek walks up to her desk at the end of class expectantly. She just looks up with a creepy smile. Derek can’t even say what for sure about her makes him just wanna run away and talk to an adult, but it’s there.
She motions for him to sit down, so he does even though he’d really like to get to lunch now. “You’re a great student, Derek,” she starts off with, leaning against the desk he’s sitting at. “You’ve been so focused this year, and we’re nearing the end of our time together.”
Their time together? Like it’s just been him and her this whole year? Yeah, this is creepy.
“Thanks, Ms. Argent, but if that’s it, I’d really like to get something to eat before the end of the period,” he says, trying to get up.
She stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be rude,” she instructs, her voice and eyes getting hard for a moment before returning back to a fake niceness. “You’re one of the brightest pupils I’ve had. No doubt about it. And well, if I may be so bold, you’re also the most...mature.”
Derek’s eyes widen and he swallows. This isn’t where he thought this would go, and he definitely doesn’t want it to go any further. But he’s trapped. Her nails are starting to dig into his shoulder, and she’s stronger than she looks. He can’t go anywhere. He can’t do anything.
She licks her lips and then her hand trails down to his chest and then further down. “I’ve always thought that maybe we could be something a little more,” and on that last word her hand has reached its destination, cupping him over his pants, and this can’t be happening.
Derek jumps up and shakes his head. “Yeah, no. This...no. I. Um. Bye.” He literally runs out of the classroom as fast as he can, looking for somewhere safe to be. He just has to get away from her, from the feeling of her hand on him. The first empty classroom he finds, he darts in and sits at a table, hunching over and wrapping his arms around himself as tightly as he can, feeling like he’s about to explode.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he hears Stiles’ voice. He never knew a voice could so...calming, especially not from someone who is always so loud and usually insulting Derek. But it’s comforting and makes him feel like he’s about to explode just a little less.
He concentrates on the sound of Stiles’ footsteps and then his voice next to him.
But Stiles keeps telling him it’s okay and it’s not okay. Derek isn’t going to be okay. Not after this.
He must say that aloud because Stiles stops talking, and it’s so weird. Stiles silent? It’s just causing whatever is inside Derek to bubble even more, and he can feel his nails biting into his arms.
“Derek!” Stiles shouts, concerned. He grabs one of Derek’s hands and pries it off his arm, holding it tightly in his hand. “Squeeze my hand. It’s okay. Just focus on me. I’m here. Not sure that really helps. I think you hate me, but hey. I’m the one that’s here right now and I’m going to help you through this.”
Derek listens to Stiles and squeezes his hand, feeling someone else’s warm and safe touch helps calm him. Soon his breathing is almost normal. His shaking is manageable and he realizes his eyes are closed, so he opens them and looks at Stiles.
Stiles looks back at him, his eyes full of concern and worry as he watches Derek carefully. “Are you okay?” he asks softly.
Derek shakes his head but lets go of Stiles’ hand anyway. He can do this himself now. Plus this must suck for Stiles, who’s already pissed at Derek. “I’m sorry,” he says but his voice is hoarse and he has to repeat himself.
Stiles literally waves it off. “You don’t have to apologize about a panic attack. Not to me. I get it. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I...don’t you hate me?” Derek thinks he should after what he did.
Stiles shrugs. “Kinda but you look like you need someone and I can be that someone.”
Derek shakes his head. “We need to talk about other things though. Like what happened with Lydia. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought...”
Stiles’ eyebrows raise expectantly. “You thought what, Derek? That ruining my chances with Lydia was a great idea? I’ve never done anything to you.”
“I thought you putting Nair in my jockstrap was explanation enough,” Derek explains. “But I didn’t know at the time that it wasn’t just you and it wasn’t just me...”
Stiles snorts and then just laughs. He laughs. “Oh my god. You literally ruined my entire high school career because of a stupid prank between our teams. You fucking asshole.”
Derek just looks down guiltily because Stiles is right. He is an asshole. There’s no excuse for what he’s done, and he ruined his chances of ever being with Stiles too.
“I mean the whole bed wetting thing was ten years ago, dude!” Stiles goes on, apparently on a rant.
“Well, it did happen. It’s not like I’m making it up.”
Stiles holds up his hand and looks at Derek incredulously. “Seriously? I was seven.”
“And it was my bed!” Derek argues because he’s just so used to it with Sitles. “I had a right to be mad about it.”
“Ten years later?” Stiles questions doubtfully.
“You put Nair in my jockstrap!” Derek yells. “I had hives on my dick!”
Stiles scoffs. “I put Nair in everyone’s jockstrap. Why do you think you’re special?”
Derek doesn’t answer, which Stiles takes as permission to keep going. “Also, what you did to me and what I did to you are not even in anyway. Do you know what you did to me?”
“Yes,” Derek mumbles. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Do you? Do you know, Derek?” Stiles repeats, angry. “How do you know what it’s like to be in love with somebody who hates you? Because, thanks to you, Lydia hates me now!”
It just comes out and Derek really doesn’t have the mental capacity to hold it back nor does he care anymore. Either way, he’s lost Stiles. “You’ve always hated me. So I get it. I know.”
***********
Stiles is 100% sure he heard correctly, but did he enter some sort of alternate universe? Because in this one, Derek can’t be in love with him. He can’t be. That doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. Like look at Derek. He’s so hot. And Stiles is...he’s Stiles. His limbs are too long and they’re everywhere and he can’t stay on appropriate topics like ever. And oh my god, Derek McCall-Hale is in love with him.
It’s probably been a full two minutes of Stiles being inside his own thoughts, so Derek picks up the conversation again. Distantly, Stiles hears the bell ring, but neither of them leave the classroom.
“What do you see in Lydia anyway?” Derek asks. “She doesn’t deserve you.”
Stiles’ anger spikes again. “She doesn’t deserve me? I thought you were in love with me. You’re supposed to have a high regard for me and-”
“Stiles, she hates Star Wars and she doesn’t even like baseball or the Mets!” Derek keeps arguing as if Stiles never said anything. “You two have nothing in common.”
“You like the Yankees, which is worse,” Stiles tells him.
Derek shrugs at that. “At least I watch baseball with you.”
“We argue the whole time.”
“We bicker. At most. It’s endearing.” And Derek just looks so....cute. He looks cute. Shy. Nervous.
“Holy shit,” Stiles breathes out. “You’re in love with me. After all this time, I never knew it. Oh my god.”
Derek doesn’t say anything, but when Stiles reaches out to touch his shoulder he flinches back. Stiles quickly retracts his hand, confused, but he’s not going to touch Derek against his will. He has no right to Derek’s body just because Derek has shown interest.
“Are you okay?” Stiles asks again, wondering if it’s something to do with the panic attack.
Derek takes a deep breath and shrugs. “I don’t know. You make me think I am and then...”
Now Stiles is officially concerned and wishes he could do something. “Do you wanna get out of here? We can drop off your keys in Scott’s locker and send him a text and just ditch.”
Derek looks up, eyes wide with shock as he nods. “Please.”
Stiles stands up and offers his hand to Derek, not expecting him to take it, but he does. They walk quickly down the hall, Stiles rushing to open Scott’s locker to leave the car keys in it. Then they walk to Stiles’ car and get the hell out of there. After a minute of driving away from the school, Derek relaxes with a sigh. He starts rubbing at his face and then his right shoulder. But not his left. Which is the shoulder Stiles reached for.
“Okay, I’m only going to ask this once because I’m not going to ever push you into anything,” Stiles starts, “but if you want to tell me what happened, you can. You can trust me. I won’t tell anyone without your permission and I won’t ever hold it against you.”
Derek looks at him and licks his lips and then leans his head back against the headrest so he doesn’t have to look at Stiles. “Ms. Argent,” Derek whispers. “I kinda thought maybe she’s had a crush on me this year, but she never did anything...until today.”
Stiles’ hands squeeze the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t rush Derek or do anything to make him feel uncomfortable. He just keeps driving towards the forest, towards the McCall-Hale house where he believes is one of the safest places to be. Plus neither of Derek’s moms will be home. Laura should be in class at the community college, so the house should be empty.
“She...she touched me. Like...fuck. I feel like one of those kids on the stand and someone should be holding a doll and asking me where the bad lady touched me.” He sighs again and runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I just.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Stiles soothes. “You don’t have to tell me everything. You don’t have to tell me anything else. It’s okay.”
Derek looks up at him and nods once. “Yeah, uh. Maybe it will be.”
***********
Derek just feels...hope with Stiles. Like maybe it will be okay. Obviously what Ms. Argent did was not okay. But maybe one day Derek will be okay and not feel so violated all the time. “Thanks, Stiles,” he whispers, looking up to see they’re parked in his driveway.
“Can I say something?” Stiles asks, and Derek nods, looking at him. “I think you should report Ms. Argent. What she did wasn’t okay and she can’t get away with it. If you want, you can talk to my dad about it since you know him, and I trust him, so I hope you do too. But I just...don’t want you to hold this in and be ashamed of it. Because it wasn’t your fault. It was hers.”
What Stiles says makes sense, and Derek knows he has a point, so he nods. “I’ll talk to your dad. Can we just...not yet?”
Stiles nods quickly. “We can just chill and watch something and let you process. It doesn’t have to be right away.”
So he gets out of the Jeep, Stiles following suit and they head inside. No one is home; Derek and Scott are usually the first ones here anyway. Derek automatically sits on the couch but doesn’t turn anything on. He just kind of blankly stares at the black TV screen. He can hear Stiles in the kitchen, and it takes a few minutes - maybe, Derek isn’t too sure on time passing at the moment - for him to come into the living room with two drinks and two sandwiches balanced in his hands. He gives one of each to Derek and then sits down next to him, munching on his food but not turning the TV on either.
“You know this is the first time we’ve hung out just you and me,” Stiles comments idly.
Derek turns to look at him, eyes blinking quickly as he gets out of the daze he was in. He takes a drink of the soda Stiles got for him and then eats the sandwich quickly, not realizing how hungry he was. “Thanks,” he mumbles. “For everything. For being here for me.”
“Dude,” Stiles says, his voice soft and emotional. “Of course. We’re friends. I mean after we sorted out our stupid misunderstandings, we’re friends. I’m practically part of your family so I’m bound to have some residual care for you. And I do. And it’s not just residual and I’m ranting now I’m sorry. I’m done.”
Derek almost smiles. “It helps. Your voice. It helps.”
“Then I can definitely keep talking,” Stiles says with a wide grin. “This has never happened to me before. No one has ever wanted me to keep talking. It’s always ‘shut up, Stiles. No one wants to hear about the history of male circumcision, Stiles’. You know? It’s exhausting holding it in all the time.”
“Yeah, that’s how I felt about my feelings for you,” Derek cuts in dryly.
It effectively shuts Stiles up, which wasn’t his goal, but it’s still funny to see him shocked. “I...you...” Stiles huffs out. “Me too. Just so you know. Me too. With the feelings. Lydia was just kind of a distraction so I wouldn’t keep thinking of you. I think Scott picked up on it before I did though.”
Derek laughs and shakes his head. “Scott knows about me. I’m sure he’s dying to tell you but I made him promise not to.”
Stiles opens his mouth in realization and then nods. “That explains this morning and why he practically ran from me. I thought you had turned him against me.”
Derek snorts. “Yeah, that’s impossible. He loves you more than he loves me.”
It’s awkwardly quiet after that, and Stiles reaches out to touch Derek’s hand. Just his fingers to the back of Derek’s hand, soft and barely there. “That’s not true,” Stiles tells him matter-of-factly. “You’re his brother, dude. I’m his best friend and chosen brother. But he loves you. You’re his family and family means something.”
“You’re family,” Derek whispers back.
“But it’s different with me,” Stiles says with a smirk. “At least I really hope it is otherwise, we’d be getting a little questionable soon.”
Derek can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous Stiles is. “I don’t know how soon ‘soon’ is,” Derek admits when he sobers up a little. “I don’t know if I can handle something yet.”
Stiles frowns. “That’s completely okay. I’ll be here. As a friend. In any way you want me. I’ll be here for you.”
Derek flips his hand so he can lace his fingers with Stiles’ and squeezes his hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome but be careful with this hand,” Stiles laughs. “You, uh, wrecked it a little earlier. So be gentle.” He winks and something stirs inside Derek.
He turns on the TV then and they sit together peacefully, hands holding each other with Stiles’ thumb sliding back and forth Derek’s inner wrist softly.
“Do me a favor?” Stiles asks. “Tell people I’m your boyfriend. We won’t touch or do anything you don’t want. But I kind of like the idea of leaving this school year being yours.” He turns his head on the couch cushion to look at Derek with a small smile.
Derek brings Stiles’ hand up to his mouth and kisses it softly. “As you wish.”
Stiles’ blinding smile once he gets the reference makes Derek want to kiss him, but he refrains, knowing he’s not ready for that. Yet.
***********
Derek’s moms actually come home at the same time today, which is not something Stiles has witnessed in his 12 years of being part of this family.
“Ditching school, Derek?” Talia calls out from the front door as she walks towards the living room. Stiles has seen her madder, so he’s not too worried. “...with Stiles? I don’t want to know what you two have been up to.”
Stiles’ face turns red, he can feel it and he pulls his hand away from Derek’s and scoots away from him. “Mrs. McCall-Hale, I am offended. My reputation is at stake with your allegations.”
Derek’s only response is to snort, which gets Melissa on him even faster.
“You have some explaining to do, young man,” Melissa tells him, coming into the room with her hands on her hips. “Ditching a month from graduation just to...whatever...with Stiles? I didn’t think you were that stupid.”
Derek sinks into the couch. “I...I’m not. I just.” He looks over at Stiles as if he can help, and Stiles takes pity on him and closes the distance between them again.
“Melissa, Talia, if you don’t mind, I’m going to call my dad. I think it’s best for Derek if we have this conversation just once.” Stiles pulls out his phone, but not before noticing the concern and worry Derek’s moms immediately have for them. They’re not stupid in any way; they know that Stiles suggesting calling the sheriff means something bad happened.
Talia is the first to approach with her hand held out but not touching Derek like she’s unsure of if she’s allowed. Derek just throws himself into her arms and buries his face into her chest, causing Talia to fall to a sit on the couch. Melissa kneels in front of them, hugging them both to her, and it almost seems too intimate for Stiles to watch, so he gets off the couch and goes to the kitchen to make his phone call.
It’s quick and precise when Stiles makes it clear it’s about business.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do why I got a phone call from your school saying you weren’t in your last two classes, would it?” he asks before they hang up.
“It has everything to do with that,” Stiles answers. “Sir. And I promise it was for a good reason.”
The sheriff sighs over the phone. “I trust you, son. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Stiles hides out in the kitchen, drinking water almost compulsively until he hears the front door open. It’s too soon to be his dad, so it must be Laura or Scott. Or both now that Stiles can hear both of their voices. The conversation is quiet so Stiles doesn’t hear it, but he does hear the front door open and close again and then the voices stop, so they must have left.
That’s when Stiles decides to go back into the living room. The three of them are sitting on the couch with Derek in the middle. “Uh, my dad should be here in a few minutes,” Stiles says, voice quiet. He doesn’t feel like he should interrupt their moment, but he figured it would be nice to alert them before his dad comes barreling into the house.
“Thank you, Stiles,” Talia says sincerely, looking up at him with a smile. “It seems that you’ve really been there for Derek today, and we really appreciate that.”
Stiles shrugs. “Yeah, no problem. Anything for family, right?”
Derek looks up then and frowns at him. “You okay?” he asks like Derek should be concerned for Stiles right now after what he went through.
“All good,” Stiles quickly answers, running a hand through his hair. “Uh, do you want me to be here for the whole thing?”
Derek is quick to nod. “Please. If you can.”
Stiles’ face softens at that. “Of course I can.”
It’s the cutest thing to see Derek’s head duck and his face flush. And if it were any other time, Stiles would comment on it, but it’s a serious time, so he doesn’t. He just ducks his head too and smiles, remembering that that cutie right there is kind of his boyfriend. And by kind of Stiles means he is, and that’s just incredible.
He goes over to sit on an armchair, waiting for his dad to arrive. His dad will walk right in. They’re all family, including his dad. The McCall-Hale family took in the Stilinskis shortly after Stiles’ mom died, and they’ve all been close since.
It’s quiet in the room because no one is talking, and Stiles wants to fill the silence. It’s what he does, but it doesn’t feel like the right moment to do that, so he doesn’t. Which is harder than it sounds, and he’s just stuck with his thoughts that are warring between being happy that he and Derek are a thing and being mad because of what Ms. Argent did. He’s not even sure of the details but whatever she did was bad and wrong and he hates her for it.
When his dad walks through the door, everyone but Derek stands up. Talia and Melissa shake his hand and thank him for coming. Derek just melts further into the couch and looks down. Stiles walks over and sits on the coffee table in front of him, taking both of Derek’s hands in his.
“It’s okay,” Stiles whispers. “You’ve got this. My dad is going to help you get justice and to make sure she doesn’t hurt you again.” He keeps his voice quiet so the parents don’t overhear him.
Derek leans closer and rests his forehead on Stiles’. “Thank you,” he whispers, his breath tickling Stiles’ face.
Stiles just nods against his forehead, letting himself be there for Derek when he needs him. Silent support. He can do that.
“So let’s get talking,” the sheriff says, sitting down in the armchair Stiles just vacated. “If you’re ready for that, Derek.” See the thing Stiles loves about his dad is how perceptive he is.
Stiles leans back, but keeps his hands where they are, so Derek has him if he needs him.
***********
Derek is relieved when everything is over. He can relax once he gets through the whole story, including the details because the sheriff has to know. It’s even better after the sheriff explains to Derek what he is going to do. Make an official report, tell the principal and the school officials, and then make an arrest warrant for Ms. Argent.
What doesn’t relax him is that after the sheriff and his moms disappear into the kitchen, Stiles is still silent, looking at a space just behind Derek’s shoulder. “Stiles?”
Stiles’ head shakes as his eyes refocus onto Derek. “Hey sorry. Just zoned out there for a minute. You cool?”
Derek nods. “Glad we got it over with.”
“Derek?” his mom calls out. “We’re going to order some pizza and after dinner we’re going to tell Laura and Scott if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, I’d rather you tell them than me,” he mumbles. “And can you make sure to tell them I’m not ready to talk about it with them?”
Dinner is an extremely awkward affair as no one is talking and Scott is silently pleading someone tell him what’s going on. He turns his gaze to Stiles, who is known for not being able to resist Scott’s puppy eyes.
“Not this time, Scotty,” Stiles sighs and then reaches over to ruffle his best friend’s hair. “But...” Stiles looks over at Derek with hopeful eyes. “Maybe there is something I can tell you.”
Derek laughs, feeling grateful Stiles somewhat eased the tension in the room. He nods his permission to let Stiles tell, and his boyfriend seems delighted by that like he couldn’t wait to tell everyone, like Derek is something Stiles is proud of and wants to tell everyone who will listen how lucky he is. Derek didn’t know someone could feel that way about him, and it’s kind of incredible.
“Derek and I are officially together,” Stiles announces, sitting straight up like it’s very important, official business, but Derek can see him trying not to smile.
“Finally,” Laura and Scott say at the same time, both of them not bothering to hide their smiles, so Stiles joins them. Derek almost smiles with them because just thought of Stiles being his and Derek being Stiles’ is enough, but it’s been a rough day. He’s tired, and he suspects tomorrow is going to be even harder with confronting Ms. Argent and talking to the principal. He almost forgets that soon, his siblings will know exactly what’s going on too.
Somehow, Stiles just knows what Derek is feeling because his hand is reaching out for his underneath the table. The touch is comforting and grounding, keeping his thoughts from drifting back to Ms. Argent. He takes a deep breath before diving back into the pizza, feeling reassured that Stiles is right there.
The second everyone is done with dinner, Derek grabs Stiles’ wrist and pulls him behind him up the stairs and to his room so his moms can talk to his siblings.
“Oh, man,” Stiles says, leaning against the closed door as Derek sits on his desk chair. “That manhandling. I’m here for it. Just so you know. That can go as a yes in our future kink negotiation.”
“Good to know,” Derek snorts, smirking over at Stiles, who is staring at the ceiling like he’s praying to some higher being.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Hale,” Stiles informs him as casually as he can as he still looks up at the ceiling.
Derek smiles at that, enjoying the control he has over Stiles because he has the same amount over Derek.
“Also, for your information,” Stiles continues, finally bringing his head down normally so he can look at Derek. “If you ever want to kiss me, just go for it. I’m giving you my full consent now. That kissing can happen whenever you are ready.”
“Duly noted.” It makes Derek happy that Stiles is giving him all the time he needs before kissing. That Stiles is okay with waiting as long as he needs to for Derek. It makes his heart race and a smile on his face whenever he thinks about it.
It’s quiet between them, both staring at the other with a small smile. It’s the most intimate moment Derek has ever had with someone, where they’re just starting at each other, both thinking how lucky they are they finally got the person they wanted. Finally.
***********
This is the most nerve wracking experience of his life. Stiles is switching between standing and sitting outside of the principal’s office where Derek and his dad and Talia and Melissa are all giving Derek the support he needs to tell the principal what happened. And Stiles is out here, unable to hold Derek’s hand to give him his support. But it’s okay. He can send his support from out here probably. It doesn’t always have to be physical.
That’s when Ms. Argent walks by, face scrunched in confusion when she sees Stiles. “Can I help you?” she asks.
He just glares at her as hard as he can. “I don’t need anything from you,” he hisses.
She just rolls her eyes and sits in one of the chairs, probably because the principal called her up to the office. Great. Now Derek is going to see her, and he had really hoped Derek would never have to see Ms. Argent ever again.
The principal’s door opens, and Derek comes out first, head ducked and shoulders scrunched inwards like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Stiles waits for Derek to come a little closer before going up to him and touching his hand.
“Can I hug you?” Stiles whispers just for Derek to hear.
Derek nods, so Stiles immediately wraps him up in his arms, kissing the side of his head as he holds him.
“It’s okay,” Stiles whispers. “Just keep walking with me and don’t look up yet, okay?” He disentangles himself from Derek and grabs his hand and pulls him out of the office and to the hallway without Derek seeing Ms. Argent. He counts his mission as a success until he hears her.
“Derek?” she calls out, and Stiles’ dad stops in front of her before she can get any closer.
“Ms. Argent, just in time. I’d like to speak with you in the principal’s office,” Stiles’ dad says in his Sheriff Voice, very official.
She’s led back into the principal’s office, her eyes hardening as she understands exactly what’s going on.
“She deserves all the bad things,” Stiles grumbles.
Derek is just staring at the floor dejectedly without saying anything. “Yeah,” he agrees noncommittally.
He isn’t sure what to do, so Stiles just tugs Derek forward, singing “Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking, walking, walking,” in his head and maybe a little under his breath if the slight uptick in Derek’s mouth has anything to say about it.
It’s beginning of the school day, which means the hallways are now loaded with people, all of whom are staring at Derek and Stiles holding hands. Which is awesome because Stiles is hella proud to be considered Derek’s boyfriend. He’ll hold the shit out of Derek’s hand for everyone to see.
But they have to separate because they have different classes. Derek takes a deep breath like he’s trying to prepare himself for the day, and Stiles tries to give him what he hopes is an encouraging smile. He isn’t sure it works, but he’s still hoping. Maybe it does work because Derek is leaning into him and kissing his cheek.
“I’ll see you at lunch,” he promises with a small smile that almost reaches his eyes so, you know, Stiles counts it as progress.
“Before you go,” Stiles says, squeezing Derek’s hand before he can go too far. “I want to tell you I’m very proud for what you did today. You spoke up for yourself, and that’s a hard thing to do. So. I’m proud of you.”
This time, Derek’s smile does reach his eyes. “Thank you for being here for me, Stiles. It means the world to me.”
“Well, you’re pretty important to me, big guy,” Stiles tells him with a smile matching Derek’s. “See you at lunch.”
Derek nods like he’s looking forward to it and rushes off to class.
Yeah, Stilinski has got the moves.
Classes are boring and go on forever it feels like. Probably because Stiles is really looking forward to lunch and seeing Derek and just making sure he’s okay. So time has to move slower just to torture Stiles. He swears his teachers are just droning on and on about things that don’t matter. Seriously. Imperialism? Logarithms? Who cares?
But finally lunch arrives and Derek already sitting at a table with Scott, Lydia, Jackson, Allison, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, the last six probably following Derek to his new table. Stiles has never seen his lunch table so crowded. Like they’re sitting with the cool kids. Allison and Scott seem to already be hitting it off. She’s all smiles and he’s all head ducking. It’s cute honestly.
Not that Stiles is super concentrated on them because his boyfriend is sitting at his table. More so, his boyfriend is frowning at the sandwich he got from the cafeteria. That’s when Stiles remembers Ms. Argent’s class is the one right before lunch. He hurries to go sit next to him and provide any comfort if needed.
The comfort isn’t needed, though, because once Stiles sits down, Derek smiles widely at him. “Hey,” he says. “Funny seeing you here.”
Stiles kisses his cheek and leans back to smile at Derek. “This is my lunch table that you are encroaching on.”
“Should I move?” Derek asks, moving to get up.
Stiles grabs his arm with both hands. “No!”
Derek is laughing as he relaxes back down into his seat, and it’s a beautiful sight that Stiles rarely gets to see upfront. He especially has missed it the last few days in which Derek was mad at him and then well...Ms. Argent happened.
“Stilinski,” Jackson calls out. “Boyd here is warning us that the basketball team retaliated. You better not be getting special privilege just because you’re dating Derek.”
Stiles blushes and then looks to his boyfriend. “I don’t know, am I?”
Derek shakes his head. “Nope. All’s fair in love and war.” He winks at Stiles, and Stiles swears his heart skips a beat because it’s just so beautiful, which is the only word adequate to describe Derek.
Still, Stiles grabs his chest and feigns sadness. “Babe, you wouldn’t give me special treatment? Then no special treatment for you, if you know what I mean.”
***********
Unfortunately, Derek knows exactly what Stiles means and maybe yesterday he didn’t want that but today? Well, that’s starting to sound pretty good. Stiles underneath him, naked and receptive to all of Derek’s touches.
He shakes his head. He is at the lunch table with his friends, but Erica is giving him a look like she knows exactly what he was thinking. She always has been very observant out of their friend group. Maybe at first a little shy, but after that she’s a barrel of sarcasm and heavy sexual innuendos.
Class was weird today. They had a substitute for Ms. Argent and everyone was whispering why when most students saw her this morning, and rumor has it she hasn’t been in any of her classes today. He’s hoping no one connects her absence to him...ever. Not that he’s embarrassed. He just doesn’t want everyone knowing his personal life like that, and he’d really just like to get over Ms. Argent as quickly as he can.
So during her class he kept his head down. They ended up having a study hall which let students talk freely amongst themselves. But he didn’t talk to any of his classmates. He just worked on homework instead of listening to what the other kids were saying.
And now he’s with Stiles again before finishing up two more classes. He’s really glad that the end of his high school career is nigh. He’s also glad he gets to finish it with Stiles by his side.
The school year finishes without any more excitement, and Derek thanks all of the deities for it. He didn’t need more excitement for his school year. Stiles only ignores him for ten minutes as punishment for the basketball team filling the lacrosse players’ lockers with shaving cream. His moms take him out to dinner with Scott and Laura and Stiles after his graduation to celebrate. There’s a party coming up the weekend following graduation. A pool party to be exact with all of his friends and of course, Stiles.
The day of the party, Stiles comes over early, already wearing his swim trunks and a t-shirt to help set up everything. His moms promised to be scarce when the party happened, agreeing to give the ex-high schoolers some privacy to celebrate. Derek promised there would be no underage drinking and if anyone on the invite list was in the ER that night while Mamá was working, he’d be in huge trouble.
But what he didn’t know was that Stiles would be trouble to him all day. Setting up the party wasn’t too bad until Stiles’ shirt started rising up to reveal a sliver of his skin, showing Derek his happy trail. It only gets worse from there.
Since it’s a pool party, Stiles takes his shirt off the second he goes outside to hang out with Scott and Isaac. And it’s hell because Derek can’t touch. Not that he doesn’t have Stiles’ enthusiastic consent to do so, but he can’t do it during the party because he’s afraid once he starts touching he won’t have the willpower to stop.
So he spends the day, lounging in the pool with Boyd next to him, hating every second of the party. Everyone seems to be having fun. Stiles has done more cannon balls than Derek has ever seen one person do in one day, but he’s laughing at and roughhousing with Scott and just looks happy and Derek wants to die. Or kiss Stiles’ face and/or body. Both would be good.
He gets even more distracted when he really sees how much Stiles has filled out. His shoulders are wide and strong looking. His stomach is carved with actual muscle, and he even has chest hair now. God, Derek is really not going to make it through this party.
“You okay?” Boyd asks, looking over at him with an eyebrow raised. “You seem tense.”
Derek clears his throat and takes a drink of his lemonade, hoping it’ll cool him off more. “No, I’m good. Great.”
“You’re gonna spill lemonade in the pool if you keep squeezing your cup like that,” Boyd nonchalantly points out. “And you should probably got interact with your boyfriend.”
Erica jumps on Boyd’s back, her wet hair draping over his chest. “Yeah,” she immediately agrees, “he keeps looking over here like a lost little puppy. I think he thinks you’re avoiding him.”
“I am,” Derek whispers through clenched teeth.
Which he really shouldn’t have said that out loud because now Erica is grinning at him evilly, and she probably knows exactly why Derek is avoiding Stiles. She quickly jumps down from Boyd’s back and swims to the other end of the pool where Stiles is. Great she’s gonna tell him.
“Your girlfriend is the worst,” Derek half-growls.
“Yeah,” Boyd sighs, staring back at her. “She’s really great.”
Derek can tell the exact second that Erica told Stiles exactly what he feared she would. Stiles’ head snaps up to look over at Derek with wide eyes and a small smile. Derek’s heart literally skips a beat, he’s sure. He honestly forgets to breathe when Stiles sends a wink his way and then joins in conversation with Erica again, Scott and Isaac too busy dunking each other.
Looking down at his lemonade, Derek almost wishes for a stronger drink because he’s not sure how he’s supposed to get through this party. That’s when Stiles swims over to Derek’s side of the pool.
“Hey,” Stiles says with an eyebrow waggle and a leering smile.
Derek wants to laugh at how ridiculous he looks, but he’s a little hung up on the thoughts of what he and Stiles could be doing. Damn him for throwing this stupid party.
“And that’s my cue,” Boyd coughs out. “Maybe you two should find a room, and I should get everyone out of the house.”
Stiles looks over at Boyd like he’s genuinely appreciative of what Boyd said. “That would be really great, Boyd. You’re the best.”
Boyd frowns at him but doesn’t say anything before he swims over to his girlfriend.
“That room idea, though,” Stiles mumbles, stepping closer to Derek to where they’re almost touching.
“Good idea,” Derek can’t help but agree, his hand finding its way to Stiles’ hip.
For maybe the first time in his whole life, Stiles doesn’t say anything. His lips part, his eyes widen, and his breaths start to come faster, his chest heaving. He does manage a slight nod to show his agreement with Derek, but other than that he’s completely wordless.
“Am I interrupting something?” Laura asks, and when Derek looks over she’s suddenly right behind Stiles. How did he miss that?
“Yes,” Stiles immediately gets out. “Interrupting many things. Longing looks, gentle touches. All of it.”
“Is he okay?” Laura asks.
“No!” Stiles answers for Derek. “Stiles is not okay. Stiles has needs.”
Derek’s face heats up, and he ducks his head. “Uh, Laura. Think this party could manage without us?”
Her face lights up with understanding after that one, her smile wide. “Yes, yes, I do. I think we’d be just fine. Have fun. Be safe.” Then she shoos them away. Her hands waving at them to leave.
They both rush to get out of the pool, standing outside long enough to be almost dry before they go inside. There’s no touching on the way to his room, no talking. An electricity is cackling between them it feels like, tension building, but they both ignore it until the door to Derek’s room is closed.
“Before we do anything,” Stiles starts, breathless like he just ran a marathon, “I just want to make sure you’re on board. With everything. You don’t like something, tell me, and I’ll stop. I’ll always stop.”
“As much as I appreciate this, stop talking,” Derek instructs him, stepping closer and crowding him against the door.
“I can do that,” Stiles whispers, eyes casted down towards Derek’s mouth. “For you, anything.”
***********
Stiles means it, too. Anything. He’d do anything for Derek, and it’s not like this is a surprise to him, but it’s a whole realization in this moment that he is completely in love with the man standing in front of him.
“Okay but you need to be touching me now,” Stiles commands. “Then I’ll try to shut up.”
Derek rolls his eyes, but his hands are on Stiles’ hips, so at least he’s listening. His hands slide up Stiles’ sides until they’re resting on his face. Derek leans closer, tilting his head before their lips connect.
Stiles doesn’t want to be cliche and say that sparks were flying or anything, but something happened. He enthusiastically kisses back, feeling Derek’s soft lips on his and loving every second of it. He’s even more thrilled when he finds Derek’s a biter, his teeth nipping gently at Stiles’ lower lip.
Surprisingly, it’s Stiles who first leans back, but he doesn’t go far. He covers Derek’s neck with kisses and gentle bites until he hears Derek moan.
His head snaps up as he looks right at Derek. “Oh fuck,” Stiles groans. “I’m not going to last long through this at all. You’re just...you.”
Derek nods, agreeing. “I’m not gonna last long. I...bed. We should go to the bed. Without our swim trunks.”
“Great idea,” Stiles says, his voice cracking.
They manage to separate long enough for each of them to step out of their bathing suits. Stiles sits on the bed first and can’t help but stare at Derek because wow. He looks like he should be an underwear model, every muscle well defined and sculpted to perfection. Stiles wants to lick all of them.
Derek slowly steps towards, his eyes wandering Stiles’ body too like there’s something worth looking at. The way Derek’s face looks at him, both pleased and hungry, Stiles might be persuaded to agree that there is something worth looking at.
Derek straddles Stiles’ lap, pushing at his chest to make him lie down. Then apparently it’s Derek’s turn to cover Stiles’ neck with kisses, sucking a few bruises here and there. Stiles didn’t know he could get so turned on by just his neck, but here they are. He can’t help his hips twitching up, trying to find some relief on his dick, relief that Derek isn’t currently giving him.
A hand on his hip stops Stiles from canting upwards. Derek’s fingers dig into his skin, and Stiles almost hopes they leave bruises just so he can see real evidence that this is actually happening.
“I think I’m dreaming,” Stiles whines when Derek licks down his chest. “This can’t be real.”
“It is real,” Derek promises, his breath ghosting over Stiles’ very sensitive nipples. “And I want you to fuck me.”
Stiles isn’t afraid to admit that he definitely moaned at that, the thought of it, the thought of him burying himself in Derek, in taking care of Derek, in giving Derek everything he wants. “Yes,” he agrees breathlessly. “Yes.”
Derek sits up and leans over to grab the lube and condom from his nightstand, and Stiles gets a chance to admired his uncut dick that is resting on Stiles’ stomach, hard. He has impulse control and can’t not touch the beautiful dick in front of him. Stiles’ hand wraps around him, and Derek gasps softly, not expecting it.
“Sorry,” Stiles immediately says, taking his hand back. “I just. Your dick is beautiful, and I. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first.”
Derek glares down at Stiles, and he feels his stomach bubble up in the fear that he did something wrong. “You promised to stop when I say no,” Derek reminds him. “I didn’t say no, and you stopped.” He sounds genuinely upset about that, and Stiles can most definitely fix that.
His hand wraps around Derek’s dick again, his hold tightening as he pumps his hand. Derek’s hand falls on the bed by Stiles’ head, and he leans heavily on it. Stiles looks up at his face, soaking in the way Derek’s eyes are closed, his teeth digging into his bottom like he doesn’t want the noises to get out.
Stiles leans up and kisses Derek, trying to get his teeth away from his lip, trying to get the noise out. “I wanna hear you,” Stiles whispers against his lips.
Derek kisses back fiercely, a moan escaping from his mouth straight into Stiles’. And that is exactly what Stiles wanted.
“Need you,” Derek whimpers when Stiles’ thumb sweeps over his head.
Stiles nods, determined to take care of Derek now. He pushes at Derek’s chest to switch their positions. He gets in between Derek’s legs and leans over, kissing his abs, licking along the crevices and then biting at his hips. Stiles ignores Derek’s dick in favor of getting lube on his fingers and finding Derek’s hole.
He’s only ever done this on himself before, so he’s a bit nervous. Stiles needs this to be good for Derek and only good. He doesn’t want Derek to ever regret this, regret them.
***********
The second there’s pressure on his hole, Derek is moaning and can’t stop his hips from trying to get Stiles’ finger in him. He got a good glimpse of Stiles’ dick and it’s way bigger than Derek ever imagined, which is perfectly okay with him. He needs Stiles inside of him yesterday.
“Come on,” he urges Stiles.
Stiles slowly slides his finger into Derek, moving it in and out at the slowest pace he could possibly do.
“Are you trying to torture me?” Derek asks, his voice coming out between clenched teeth.
Stiles laughs and leans over to kiss Derek gently. “Maybe a little. But also I don’t want to hurt you. And I’m kind of, you know.”
“Big,” Derek answers.
Stiles’ head tilts and his eyes narrow as he sees right through Derek always. “You like that,” he whispers, amazed. “Oh my god, you’re a size queen, aren’t you?”
Derek’s cheeks heat up as he shakes his head. “No, I just think you have a nice sized dick, okay? Now if you could hurry up and get it in me, that’d be great.”
“Bossy,” Stiles snorts, placing a quick kiss on Derek’s neck as he slides another finger in. “It’s hot. Keep bossing me around and growling and baring your teeth at me.”
Derek does the last one with a glare, and Stiles just laughs at him, still pumping his fingers so obviously the guy can multitask.
There’s a charged stare between them as Stiles keeps stretching him, thoroughly making sure he’s prepped. But their eyes meet, and neither of them can look away. Stiles looks like he’s in awe, and Derek mirrors him. They’re finally here, together. After years of denying feelings and pining, they’re here, together.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Derek insists, breaking the silence.
Stiles pushes himself up and sits back on his heels. Derek watches him open the condom wrapper of the box of condoms Scott embarrassingly bought for him with a wide smile and an excited, “Congratulations on dating my best friend.”
The condom seems to fit well, and Derek isn’t sure he wants to think about how his brother knows the size of his boyfriend’s dick right now. Not when he can watch said boyfriend lube up his dick and stroke himself a few times.
“Enjoying the show?” Stiles asks without looking up from lining himself up with Derek. “I can feel your eyes on me.”
Derek laughs before saying, “You’re kind of stupidly beautiful.”
Stiles looks up at him that one with surprise that fades into a soft smile. “You’re stupidly beautiful.”
Derek is about to say something in retort, but he can feel Stiles sliding into him, and all words are lost. Stiles is just as slow about this, but once he’s bottomed out, he checks that Derek is okay and then quickens his pace. Looking at him, Derek wouldn’t think Stiles is this strong, but he is. He grips Derek’s hips hard and fucks into him at an almost brutal pace.
And Derek is enjoying every second of it.
“God,” Stiles groans. “This is so much better than masturbating.”
Derek tries to laugh, but it comes out as a moan when Stiles repositions himself and grabs a pillow to put it underneath Derek’s back. “Stiles.”
Stiles’ rhythm falters for a second. “Oh fuck,” is Stiles’ only response. “I never thought you saying my name could almost make me come, but that definitely just happened.”
But it’s all Derek can think about. All he can feel is Stiles, his hands wandering his body, fingers ghosting over his dick. All he can see is Stiles who is staring down at Derek like he’s this prize like Stiles can’t believe he won. And it’s all too much that after a few strokes on his dick, Derek is clenching around Stiles and coming.
“Fuck,” Stiles whispers, voice hoarse. He keeps fucking into Derek, but it isn’t too long before he’s buried in Derek and frozen as he moans through his climax, making little thrusts into Derek as he finishes.
He pulls out slowly, holding the bottom of the condom as he does, but Derek is way too tired to keep his eyes open. He rests his head back and listens as Stiles gets off the bed and moves around the room. He hears the door open with Stiles’ murmured, “I’ll be right back.”
True to his word, Stiles is right back and Derek can feel the bed move with the added body weight. There’s a warm, damp towel between his legs, and Derek can’t believe he’s feeling emotional over this. Stiles caring enough to get up and clean everything up for him when he’s probably just as tired as Derek is.
Soon Stiles is sliding underneath the blankets, pulling them up around both of them and then draping himself over Derek’s chest. He kisses Derek’s pec before resting his chin there.
“How was it?” he asks, and when Derek opens his eyes to look down at him, he looks nervous.
“Amazing,” Derek sighs, wrapping an arm around Stiles, rubbing his back. “How was it for you?”
“Perfect,” Stiles whispers, laying his head down. “You’re perfect. I love you.”
Derek freezes for a second before relaxing because the words just feel...right. “I love you.”
This is my contribution to the Sterek Writers’ Network event based around being stuck in an elevator after [or in this case, during] a fight. This is a loose sequel to captaintinymite’s fic [which you should totally read].
Recommended listening: [x]
He makes it just in time to throw his arm through the threshold, and he has half a second to wonder if he is going to lose his arm before the metal doors pause. Instead of sealing him out completely, they slide open silently. Derek stepped inside the dim elevator, telegraphing his movements like he was approaching a wounded animal at might lash out of him if startled.
Inside, Stiles’ is staring down at the control panel of the elevator, his hand still forcefully pushing on the ‘Door Close’ button.
Even without his werewolf senses, Derek would be able to see the way Stiles other hand, clenched into a white-knuckled fist at his side, is trembling. There is blood dripping from his hand to the floor. Actually; as Derek actually takes him in, he realizes that all of Stiles is shaking, but his face is carefully blank. Empty.
Except for those unnaturally glowing blue eyes.
The air is thick enough to suffocate on as the doors slide shut again, but the elevator doesn’t move. Stiles hasn’t even pushed a button to go to the loft’s floor yet.
Derek opens his mouth to say something, to tell him to push it so they can get upstairs, but if he has learned anything about Stiles over the past few weeks, it’s when to push and when to be patient. He tilts his head to the side and breathes in. The air in the small, secluded space they’re sharing reeks of hate, anger, fear, frustration, resentment. Disappointment, guilt, failure. Blood.
He can hear the way Stiles’ heartbeat is racing, like it wants to run out of his body, out of this room, away from here.
It’s more than enough for him to know what to do. Where before he would have demanded, would have forced, Derek crosses his arms over his chest and leans his back against the side of the elevator, facing Stiles. He waits.
Stiles lifts his hand off the ‘Door Close’ button, the movement jerky and forced like he’s not fully aware of what it’s doing. It hovers in the air over the button for Derek’s loft. Finally, Derek thinks.
It’s a blur of movement, the way the claws extend out of Stiles’ fingers and dig deep into the metal of the paneling. He rips it off, and both hands start tearing the wiring to shreds. He doesn’t even pay attention to where the end up; some of them hang from the console, sparking and fizzing, while others are scattered all over the elevator.
He grits his teeth, and Derek can see the fangs before he hears the vicious screams coming form Stiles’ mouth. Screams of hurt, of pain, of rage.
There’s a moment of sheer panic that hits Derek before instincts take over. He takes one step forward, his eyes flash red and he roars. The entire elevator car shakes from the sound.
Stiles does not even flinch, but his hands do still. “Don’t,” Stiles bites out there a set jaw, through fangs that dig into his mouth. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Don’t I dare what, Stiles?” Derek responds levelly. “Let you destroy the elevator? Get us stuck in here?”
Stiles doesn’t answer. He just clenches and unclenches his fists. He’s looking down at them, now, at the claws that didn’t shift back, even at the alpha’s command.
“Is everything alright?” Derek tries, because he doesn’t know what else to ask, and he can’t let Stiles get lost in his own head even more than he already has. Derek knew the last few weeks had been leading up to something like this; with the way Stiles had been struggling to control his shifts, to stay focused on any one thing, to filter out all of the new senses he had. Stiles is intelligent, a genius even, but even Stiles has his limits.
“Everything-” Stiles starts, but he breaks off into broken, hollow laughter. He doesn’t stop, not right away. Derek can feel his heart break, and he opens his mouth to say something, anything, but this sounds less like his Stiles and more like the ‘Stiles’ that stabbed Scott.
But Stiles starts again: “Is everything alright?” he parrots. This time, though, there isn’t laughter; he says it with less humor, like he’s spitting the bitter taste of the words off his tongue.
Stiles runs his tongue over his fangs. “Everything...” he trails off again, and when he finally looks at Derek for the first time since he stepped into the elevator, Derek finally sees the fire burning cold in those eyes. “Everything is not alright, Derek.”
The world around Derek stops.
“I didn’t want this,” Stiles continues before Derek can even get out a syllable. “Even when Scott first got bitten, and okay, I was jealous because my brother got superpowers, but I had my role. I was the one who could help him, I was the one who had to chain him to my bed to keep him from going insane on the full moon. I did the research, and he was the creature of the night. I never asked him for the bite.
“And when Peter asked me? I told him to fuck off,” he spits out vehemously, his tirade showing no signs of stopping. He steps closer to Derek, standing in his personal space, eye to eye with him. “And I would tell him that again in a heartbeat, no questions asked.”
The manic laughter threatens to bubble out again. “Hell, I didn’t even want it when it could have been the one cure to getting that demonic fox out of me! Doesn’t that say something? I didn’t want it when it could have saved my life then, Derek. But somehow, I lived. I didn’t change. And that night?” he said, his eyes searching Derek’s for something.
Derek didn’t know what he was looking for.
“That night, after everything was over, I went home and I was so relieved I cried for hours. Somehow, through all of that mess, I came out human. I was still myself.” Stiles smiled hollowly. “When you visited me that night, you told me that it was okay, that it was gone, like that’s the reason I was crying, but I didn’t see the point in correcting you.”
“I can’t believe it ended up being you. You’re the one who did this.”
Derek blinks once, his hands coming up to grip onto Stiles’ shoulders, to try to close the distance between them, to even steady not only Stiles, but himself. He wonders if Stiles can listen to the cracking inside of his ribcage to know how much those words could break him.
Yet, Derek can, and he can hear how Stiles wants so desperately to blame Derek, but there’s insincerity, doubt. He doesn’t even know himself who or what to blame, but he needs something to latch onto, something to hate. And he has chosen his target.
Stiles tears abruptly, violently away from him. “Stiles,” Derek says quietly, his whirlwind of emotions leaking into his voice, “you’re still you.”
“No, I’m not,” Stiles laughs, but the sound is bitter, twisted. It makes Derek’s skin crawl. “See, Derek, everything that makes me a werewolf killed whatever made me human. It killed everything. You see, I can’t even relate to the world the same way I used to. I can’t listen to my favorite bands now because my hearing is too sensitive. I can’t talk to my dad without smelling everything he isn’t telling me, instead of just knowing him as a person. Derek, I don’t--” Stiles says, and he takes a moment, his eyes lowered to Derek’s chest. “I don’t know how anyone, Scott or Erica or Boyd or Isaac--” and Derek flinches at the implications, but Stiles continues on “--did it.”
“They did it,” Derek says earnestly, “because it was what they chose. Stiles, I would not have bitten you if you hadn’t asked me.”
Stiles just stares at him.
“For the love of-- I am being honest with you, Stiles,” Derek growls out at him, now stepping into his space. His eyes flash red, but Stiles leans back onto his heels, staying where he is. “I didn’t do this to, to, to ruin your life, or to change you. I did this because you asked me,” Derek says, and Stiles can’t even look into his eyes anymore. He looks away, but Derek pushes on, because he must. He can’t let Stiles think that he-- “Because the other option was to let you die. I didn’t even want to bite you in the first place, because it might not have even saved you, Stiles. It could have killed you before the EMTs even got there.”
Derek has to pause to take in air. He sees the angry tears in Stiles’ eyes now, even as he looks away. He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around Stiles, to pull him close, but he doesn’t know if Stiles will even accept that. Derek’s words break when he speaks. “I was helpless, and I was afraid, and I was prepared to take care of your father for you because you were dying in my arms.” He stares into Stiles face, and his hand rests on Stiles’ cheek to wipe at his eyes. “And I was prepared to do that. It would have broken me, but I was prepared to do that,” Derek repeats, and Stiles looks up at him.
Derek knows Stiles isn’t advanced enough to smell exactly how Derek feels, to be able to listen to his heartbeat and recognize the he way their heartbeats always sync up when they’re alone. The way he aches now to just press a kiss to Stiles’ head.
Stiles seems to understand enough to offer a weak flash of a watery smile. “Yeah,” Stiles murmurs, “yeah, you.. You did say you’d do that.”
“I meant it.”
“Mmm.” Stiles hums, but whether it’s in agreement or acknowledgment Derek doesn’t know. Stiles lets out a heavy, shuddering sigh, and leans slightly into Derek’s touch. “I don’t want to be like this.”
“I know,” Derek answers. “You’re only frustrated.”
“Why does this have to be so difficult?” Stiles demands. “How come Scott gets to be this werewolf prodigy and gets everything right away, and I can’t? Why do I have to have blue eyes because of things I wasn’t even in control of?”
“I have blue eyes too, remember,” Derek points out, frowning.
“Yours are red now,” Stiles grumbles. “They don’t count anymore. No one will be able to tell.”
Derek’s frown deepens, and he pulls his hand away from Stiles’ face. “Your beta color doesn’t define you as a person, Stiles, anymore than being a wolf does.”
“Some wolf I am,” Stiles snorts in response.
“It doesn’t come as naturally to you, I think,” Derek answers slowly. Stiles shuffled forward to rest his forehead on Derek’s collarbone, and Derek hums, wrapping his arms around him. “You want to be in control of it, to make it work the way you want it to. It’s why you’re frustrated.”
“And it’s why all of our training so far has just ended with me eating dirt,” Stiles adds wryly, and with that little jab at himself, Derek knows this fight is as good as over.
“Well, to be fair, it’s not always dirt,” Derek says, pretending to be positive. “There was that one time you wolfed out and nearly chewed off Scott’s head.”
That does at least get a more genuine laugh of out Stiles. “Yeah,” he agrees, muffled by Derek’s shirt. “That was pretty funny.”
There is a moment of companionable silence between them as Stiles shifts, getting comfortable in Derek’s arms. Likewise, Derek buries his face in Stiles hair, letting his taut muscles unwind.
“Hey, Derek.”
“Hmm?”
“We’re stuck in here now, aren’t we?”
“You did rip out the control panel to the elevator, Stiles.”
“Damn it.” A pause. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Derek answers. “I have a fire call key on my keyring. We can at least get it up to the loft, provided it still works. I’ll get the electrician to come fix it later.”
“You fucking asshole,” Stiles says, pinching his side. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
“Because I don’t didn’t want to ruin the moment?” Derek answered, and Stiles laughs, pulling away and shoving him -- a little harder than he meant to, Derek guesses, because Derek has to brace himself against the wall in order to stay on his feet, but Stiles doesn’t need to know that.
“Get us out of here,” Stiles commands, even though his face flushed red from the crying doesn’t look at all threatening, even with the beta eyes. “As penance for breaking your elevator, I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.”
“You’re going to regret that,” Derek warns, already walking to the panel [or what’s left of it] and fishing through his keyring to find the correct one.
“I regret a lot of things,” Stiles says seriously, “but I’m not going to regret choosing you. Or cuddling. Or Netflix.”
“I’m glad I’m in the same category as Netflix,” Derek answers solemnly.
“I am, too,” Stiles says gravely. “Netflix is a basic human right.”
Derek smiles, ducking his chin into his chest to try to hide it, and the elevator begins to move.
Throughout high school he had been the guy everyone turned to when they didn’t understand a topic and didn’t want to ask the teacher to explain it one more time.
He enjoyed it when people would come out of their exam and thank him for helping them pass.
Derek always wanted to be a teacher.
So he went off to college, got a teaching degree in History and now here he is, twenty five and working at Beacon Hills High.
He’s already landed himself as most favourable teacher and it’s not only because of his looks. Well, that was one of the main reasons, but the students always turned to him for help. His students would ask him to explain it again if they didn’t understand, because he was a friendly teacher who the students felt comfortable around.
One student especially is way too comfortable around Derek. Stiles Stilinski.
He would openly flirt with Derek, would whistle whenever he turned his back to the board and would purposely drop his exam paper during practice exams so that Derek would have to pick it up.
He was a menace, he would crawl under Derek’s skin and as much as he disliked being made a sex object in lesson, he couldn’t help but react to Stiles.
Stiles with the big brown eyes, lithe body and hands that would look amazing wrapped around Derek’s cock.
So, three months into teaching and Derek is currently sitting at his desk marking papers whilst Stiles is under the table, in between his legs and has his mouth wrapped around the head of Derek’s dick.
Stiles is a talented kid. Aces every test Derek hands out and so far he’s getting an A+ at giving a blow job.
Stiles has a talented tongue, one that is currently rubbing against the underside of his cock. Those hands, that do look great around Derek’s cock, is currently squeezing at the base of his dick and is tugging in time as his head bobs, taking Derek deep into his throat and making Derek moan, his balls drawing up and then his release spilling down Stiles’ throat.
Stiles greedily suckles Derek’s dick, taking it all before Derek is pushing him away, too sensitive. He licks his lips and looks up at Derek with a shit eating grin.
“How did I do?”
“You did a good enough job for me to return the favour.” Derek admits with a smirk and Stiles ends up banging his head against the desk as he scrabbles to get up.
written to: "No Light, No Light" - Florence & the Machine
They were the worst thing in the world for each other.
That had been obvious from day one, from that first moment in the woods, wide-eyed nerves against a wall of frigid, broken rage. Youth and biting sarcasm and intelligence against… Derek.
There was nothing about this that made sense.
That didn’t stop them falling into each other, from crawling, stumbling, surging back into each other over and over again. Constantly. Repeatedly. Until Derek was drowning in it, until he couldn’t see the surface anymore, until he realized he wasn’t even really looking.
But they were drowning each other, sure enough. Derek weighted down by Stiles, tied to this town that had taken so much from him, and Stiles getting colder, angrier, every time Derek tried and failed to pull away. Ran, came faltering back. And Stiles a little harder every time he reappeared. Derek tried to stay sometimes, ended up crawling out of his skin with the weight and pressure of being wanted. Tried leaving, and the loneliness, the longing always drove him back.
He could feel it happening. He wasn’t stupid. And he knew it was all his fault. Just as much as he knew he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.
They were toxic for each other, water in each others’ lungs. Each kiss, each caress, each casually tossed word of abuse brought them closer to choking.
I thanks to the SterekWriters I now have a large group of people who just followed me and are amazing members of the fandom and excellent writers and I
I am very shitty at introducing myself to new people. But I have to get offline for now [because, whether or not I actually can sleep, I'd like to not be a zombie when it comes time to work in the morning]. So I ask that you guys tag me in things and I'll organize a tinychat for people tomorrow or something? [Also you'll see a lot more than Teen Wolf here, but I've gotten better with tagging if you want to block it!]
