Tell Me What Do You See (When You Look At Me)
Title: Tell Me What Do You See (When You Look At Me)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Stiles and Derek spend some more time together and Stiles has a worried moment thinking about letting others know about him.
Warnings: Wingfic, some unknown scentmarking, groping Derek
Notes: Title from The Maine's 'Misery'. Part of Stay Away, Sweet Misery verse.
Stiles remembered a lot of times that his secret almost got out, sitting there on Derek's couch, in his too-big shirt with the back ripped out.
They were usually when he was running from - or, you know, into, because Derek's off-hand comments sometimes about him having no self-preservation instincts weren't that far off - whatever had decided to terrorize Beacon Hills for the week.
He remembered keeping Derek and himself above water for two hours somehow, and then he remembered how much they were twitching the entire time, irritated, the water lapping at the both of them ruffling the already ruffled feathers out of place and he had to grit his teeth not to show.
He remembered the many - many, many - times that his dad would catch him and grab him by the back of his shirt, and he'd almost have a heart attack, because maybe if he'd only worn a t-shirt his dad would've noticed the wraps underneath, or they would've come undone. He grimaced to himself when he remembered the time they almost did, pulling tight from his dad's grip and he almost had a panic attack from it.
So many times during school Scott would just place his hand right there, and Stiles would have to remember to breathe. It was so, so much worse after Scott got his furry little problem because he didn't know if he smelled different than everyone else, or if Scott would be able to just... just tell that Stiles was different.
And then there was Derek. Derek who always slammed him into walls and Stiles would feel a zing of pain and a bit of a... a sensation he couldn't really name through the wings. He would agonize over what if Derek noticed how he seemed more breathless than he probably should for just being slammed into a wall by muscle and werewolf, or if Derek could see the tension in him whenever someone got to close to his back because Derek just seemed to have an eye on everything at every moment. And Derek coming back and living so close to his usual haunt to take everything off and breathe. And Derek always climbing in through his window without any warning and maybe seeing the wraps and question him - or worse, ripping them away. And Derek... Derek knew. He was still trying to wrap his head around that.
I... I should tell my dad...
Stiles shuddered and felt his head spin a little at the thought. “Ohh... my god I can't... I can't do this...” He ran his hands roughly over his hair before tucking his head between his knees and just breathing. This sucked. Stupid Derek and his... stupid forest and wolf senses and crap.
“Stiles?”
Speaking of... Stiles let out a long breath and sat up. He'd almost broken down in front of Derek before. He would show no weakness. Nope. He... he was okay. He wasn't... he wasn't okay, but he was going to be. “Hey.” He said lamely, overly cheery. Derek arched an unimpressed eye brow. “Sup, sourwolf.”
Stiles was going to go smack his head several times against the wall as soon as he could get out and away from witnesses, because he didn't think his whole act of 'totally fine' was going to get much better if he did that.
Derek stared at him for a while before he shook his head and sighed, muttering to himself a little before he nodded outside without a word. Aaand were back to not talking. Awesome.
Stiles huffed and stood, pausing before he went out and curling the wings around himself tightly before stepping out. He still managed to hit the tip of one of them off the door frame. Stupid overly huge wings...
He looked up when he bumped into Derek and followed his eyes to his jeep, that was now in the small cleared lot in front of the Hale house instead of parked on the side of the road out of view where he left it. Oh... Stiles clutched a little tighter at the shirt and looked up at Derek. “Guess I have to leave now?” He didn't really want to. Not that he'd enjoyed spending time with Derek but... it was more getting to have everything out like this. He wasn't worried that someone would stumble in and see him, he could stretch the wings out and everything was painless - mostly, recent life of being chased by monsters and all, comes with an array of injuries.
Derek huffed softly and glanced down at him for a few moments. Then he cleared his throat. “Do you... need help with the...” Derek trailed off before his face pinched up and Stiles watched, a little stunned that Derek Hale, sourwolf extraordinaire, had just offered to help him with something as mundane as wrapping his wings up.
Okay... maybe mundane wasn't the proper word for the situation, but... whatever.
“Um... sure?”
Derek's features relaxed and he... he didn't quite smile but his lips twitched for a second before shifting into a frown and he nodded and walked into the house again. Stiles rolled his eyes as he followed after. Would it kill him to show any sign of emotion? Other than anger, kill, and stop-talking-Stiles-I'll-rip-your-throat-out?
When he was back in the living room, Derek was already standing there, curling the wraps around his fingers like he was almost... nervous. Stiles blinked, and then Derek was glaring and... yeah, he was just seeing things, had to. Derek didn't get nervous, just as much as he never laughed or smiled or showed any signs of being anything other than a robot... or... werebot.
“Stiles.”
Stiles held his hands up at the growl and pulled Derek's shirt off, draping it over the back of the couch before hesitating a moment, and then turning his back to Derek and tucking his wings in as close as he could to his own body.
He shuddered at the first touch of Derek's hands firm on the feathers and bit into his lip, hard. That's... a really weird feeling. Before he never really got the chance to really... take it in when Derek touched them, seeing as he wriggled out of his touch pretty damn fast, but... huh. It was weird, but... pleasant, nice... almost... oh.
Stiles' toes curled in his sneakers and he had to swallow back what would've been an embarrassing sound - that probably would've introduced Stiles' throat to Derek's teeth finally after the many promises if it got out - when Derek's hand pressed harder, all warm pressure and fingertips digging in a little. The feathers shuddered around him and he twitched, a wing swinging out and smacking again the hard wall of werewolf behind him. “C-can you just... do it, please?”
He grimaced at the stuttering, but Derek just eased up, patting the feathers before he held a hand to Stiles' side, cupping the start of the gauze wraps there, then he paused. “Up.” He grunted, smacking Stiles' arm. He lifted both up and swallowed as Derek slowly curled the first layer over the feathers, pressing down slightly with his free hand. This was... even weirder. It was like... letting Derek in on another secret, sort of, inviting him in to be this big part of it.
Oh, that's... Stiles huffed out a breath that he hoped didn't sound too shaky when the hand pressing the wings firm to his back stroked down along them, down to where the tips flirted with where his back met the curve of his... whoa.
“Stop.” Stiles wrenched away, curling his hands around himself and staring up at Derek. Derek who was standing there looking as innocent as could be, like he wasn't just about to cop a feel. Stiles licked his lips, before he grabbed the gauze and wraps. “That's... bad Derek.”
Derek arched a brow at that, then stepped forward. “Let me see them.” He held out his hand, gesturing to the pile of bandages in his hands and he clutched them a little tighter.
“Dude, you just almost touched my ass. Hell no.”
Derek stared at him for a long, long time, and Stiles had to keep himself from twitching. He didn't expect a lot out of this day, but he sure as hell did not see Derek trying to feel him up anywhere close to happening. “I won't do it again.” Derek's low, growling voice brought him back and he stared, gaping into eyes that were halfway red. “Now let me see.”
Stiles stared for a few moments more, before he hesitantly handed the bundle over. Derek huffed and spun Stiles around then pushed the wings down, wrapping the gauze over it efficiently, around his chest and down to the ends where Stiles never did, just loose enough to where it was snug but still comfortable. Then without stopping for a second he started wrapping the heavy cotton around him, the same way; a few times around his chest and then twice over his stomach. Stiles tested it when Derek knotted it on his side, smiling a little when nothing moved. “Awesome.”
Derek looked over him, then face scrunched up a little, before he handed Stiles his shirts. Stiles pulled them over his head, grinning again when he found he could move a lot easier than usual, too, and the wraps didn't constrict around his chest or anything. “I think you need to do this for me from now on. Like, you should use your stalking skills for good to come in before I go to school to help me.”
Derek... didn't look impressed. Stiles shrugged on his plaid and grinned at Derek before he turned to leave. He stopped when he felt a large hand clap onto his shoulder and turned to look back at Derek again. Derek didn't say anything, just... stared. “Okay...” He shrugged out of Derek's hold, hearing a huff behind him as he opened the door and walked out. Derek was acting so weird...
When Stiles hopped up into his jeep he paused for a moment, fingering his keys which were dumped on the passenger's seat. He was going to tell his dad. It... it would be okay. It would. His dad wouldn't react that bad... really. At least... he didn't think...
Stiles sucked in a deep breath and started the jeep before driving off the Hale property. Seriously. He could handle werewolves and hunters and lizard monsters any day of the week. Why should he be so afraid of tell his dad one little tiny thing? He'd be totally fine... totally... fine.