TW fic: Goodbye
Title: Goodbye
Words: 492
Rating: PG
Pairings: Derek/Stiles
Summary: It's supposed to be a goodbye party, but Stiles gets stuck on the "goodbye."
Disclaimer: Characters/etc. belong to MTV.
Lydia is yelling over the music, maybe she’s singing along, but Stiles can’t really tell between the noise of the room and Jackson’s enthusiastic dancing.
“Why the hell did we think alcohol was okay,” muttered Stiles, squished half on top of Derek’s lap on the couch. Derek’s laugh is a brush of warm air against the back of his ear.
“I remember you being a big supporter of the idea,” he says into Stiles’ neck. Stiles isn’t drunk, not really, but everything feels warmer and funnier and easier. Which was damn good, because every time he stopped to think about tonight, he-yeah, and he needed a refill.
“Another?”
Stiles is unsuccessful in his wiggle off of Derek’s lap. “I’m still coherent.”
Derek wraps an arm around his waist, keeping Stiles back against him. He buries his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing in deep. “Implying you’re coherent when you’re sober?”
Derek feels so, so good against him and Stiles doesn’t ever want to leave.
Derek is surprised when Stiles turns his head around to kiss him. The angle of his hips is awkward and hurts his back, but he doesn’t care. He kind of stinks of beer, too, but that’s nothing next to how badly he needs Derek with him right now.
He’s pretty sure he uses way too much teeth but Derek doesn’t complain. He steadies Stiles’ body with hands at his hips, strangely stiff. Stiles’ throat clenches and he pulls back with a deep breath.
“It’s not that far away,” he says. His eyes sting and he feels tired and suddenly he remembers that alcohol is a depressant. He can hear Jackson and Scott whooping near the speakers. He squeezes his eyes shut but then he can’t see Derek’s face so he opens them again. Turns out that’s bad, too; Derek’s eyes are sad and far too knowledgeable.
“It’s not far at all,” he agrees quietly.
“I can come visit on weekends.” His voice is losing whatever drunken composure it had. “Holidays. I mean, I’ll be working, you too, but…”
“Sshhhh.” Derek kisses him again, slow. It makes Stiles want to never let him go. It makes him want to cry.
Derek puts a hand on the back of his head. “It’s just college, Stiles. You’ll have fun.”
They’ve had this conversation a thousand times, or maybe it’s just been twice, but Stiles is never satisfied with it. He can’t articulate the way his life has changed since Scott was bitten, the sharp realization of what’s most important in his life. His mother’s death had imprinted the severe reality of mortality, and in the aftermath Stiles worried more and more about his father and his job. But now? Now that he knows there are monsters out there? Monsters that could kill his remaining family, all of his friends, his friends that aren’t monsters but are definitely something, his - Derek…
Stiles’ voice catches in his throat and Derek kisses him again.
*
Words: 492
Rating: PG
Pairings: Derek/Stiles
Summary: It's supposed to be a goodbye party, but Stiles gets stuck on the "goodbye."
Disclaimer: Characters/etc. belong to MTV.
Lydia is yelling over the music, maybe she’s singing along, but Stiles can’t really tell between the noise of the room and Jackson’s enthusiastic dancing.
“Why the hell did we think alcohol was okay,” muttered Stiles, squished half on top of Derek’s lap on the couch. Derek’s laugh is a brush of warm air against the back of his ear.
“I remember you being a big supporter of the idea,” he says into Stiles’ neck. Stiles isn’t drunk, not really, but everything feels warmer and funnier and easier. Which was damn good, because every time he stopped to think about tonight, he-yeah, and he needed a refill.
“Another?”
Stiles is unsuccessful in his wiggle off of Derek’s lap. “I’m still coherent.”
Derek wraps an arm around his waist, keeping Stiles back against him. He buries his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing in deep. “Implying you’re coherent when you’re sober?”
Derek feels so, so good against him and Stiles doesn’t ever want to leave.
Derek is surprised when Stiles turns his head around to kiss him. The angle of his hips is awkward and hurts his back, but he doesn’t care. He kind of stinks of beer, too, but that’s nothing next to how badly he needs Derek with him right now.
He’s pretty sure he uses way too much teeth but Derek doesn’t complain. He steadies Stiles’ body with hands at his hips, strangely stiff. Stiles’ throat clenches and he pulls back with a deep breath.
“It’s not that far away,” he says. His eyes sting and he feels tired and suddenly he remembers that alcohol is a depressant. He can hear Jackson and Scott whooping near the speakers. He squeezes his eyes shut but then he can’t see Derek’s face so he opens them again. Turns out that’s bad, too; Derek’s eyes are sad and far too knowledgeable.
“It’s not far at all,” he agrees quietly.
“I can come visit on weekends.” His voice is losing whatever drunken composure it had. “Holidays. I mean, I’ll be working, you too, but…”
“Sshhhh.” Derek kisses him again, slow. It makes Stiles want to never let him go. It makes him want to cry.
Derek puts a hand on the back of his head. “It’s just college, Stiles. You’ll have fun.”
They’ve had this conversation a thousand times, or maybe it’s just been twice, but Stiles is never satisfied with it. He can’t articulate the way his life has changed since Scott was bitten, the sharp realization of what’s most important in his life. His mother’s death had imprinted the severe reality of mortality, and in the aftermath Stiles worried more and more about his father and his job. But now? Now that he knows there are monsters out there? Monsters that could kill his remaining family, all of his friends, his friends that aren’t monsters but are definitely something, his - Derek…
Stiles’ voice catches in his throat and Derek kisses him again.
*