New Teen Wolf Fic: Except What Has Been Forgotten, Rated R, 17/?
Except What Has Been Forgotten, Part 17
by Suz
Thank you to the wonderful rhiannonhero :) Feedback would be wonderful :)
Ha! So RL got WORSE. WTH? Totally behind on comments, but I needed something good. So here's another part.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16.
*
Stiles had an admittedly small basis for comparison, but the kissing seemed really, really good. For the first five seconds.
Because that was when Derek wrenched himself away, stumbling out of kissing and groping range - so not fair - not even staying to look Stiles in the eye, instead moving out the carriage as fast as werewolf-ly possible.
He was running away. Again.
"Hey!" Stiles called out, only half-joking as he took off after him. "You come back here and you kiss me!" He paused as he got to the open door of the carriage, because - oh, yeah. Erica and Boyd were definitely still right there, staring at Stiles like they were really, really disturbed.
They'd just actually heard him yell that. Even in jest. Right.
Derek - who was actually standing behind the sofa, like it would protect him from Stiles, like he needed protecting from Stiles - looked equally disturbed. "Get out," he instructed and it took Stiles a moment to realise he wasn't the one being addressed. Boyd and Erica didn't hesitate, seeming only too glad to get the hell out of there.
Neither he or Derek moved, said or did anything other than look at each other until they were alone.
It gave Stiles the time he needed to calm down, take the sharper edges off his frustration, realise just how wounded Derek looked. Stiles was no expert, but he was pretty sure that wasn't the way you were supposed to look right after kissing someone. There was something else going on here, something other than Derek just needing to be ridiculously noble.
So he stayed where he was. Didn't move any closer. And realised that, disturbingly, maybe he had needed that 'no means no' talk Dad had given him when he turned 15, because Derek had been telling him no in a variety of ways and he'd been so intent that he hadn't even paid attention.
That was more than a little disturbing to realise.
"Sorry," he said then, quietly, because he had to, because shame was making his face heat up, making it harder and harder to meet Derek's gaze. Derek probably didn't even want him there right now. "I'll go," he offered, but as he turned to leave, Derek suddenly spoke.
"Why did you kiss me?"
Well, duh. Stiles had a whole bullet point list of reasons and after what'd just happened, the least he could do was give Derek what he was asking for, even if it was vaguely embarrassing. "Uh, have you seen you?" he started, making Derek glance down at himself briefly. "Not to mention the fact that we...like each other. And I wanted to kiss you." He paused, contemplating. "Mostly," he admitted, and knew this didn't sound particularly good even as it was coming out of his mouth, "I kissed you because I had an unbelievably shitty day and I wanted something...good." He glanced off to one side, not having realised until that moment how much of himself he'd be giving away, but knowing that he owed Derek this. "I wanted some comfort."
Nodding slowly like this wasn't a surprise, like it was mostly what he expected to hear, Derek responded. "It didn't feel right," he said in an abrupt sentence, because he was still Derek. "It should be...because we're both in a place where we want it. Not..." He shrugged. "Not because of a shitty day."
Stiles was learning more and more about Derek all the time. "You're a secret romantic," he said, voice half-teasing, half-amazement. Derek produced an impressive bitch-face in response, but Stiles couldn't stop talking. "Life is seriously not like it is in fairy tales, Derek."
He snorted. "Clearly you've never read the originals."
Conceding the point, Stiles corrected himself. "Life is seriously not like it is in the Disney fairy tales, Derek."
That made his lips quirk into a smile, at least. "You think I - me of all people - don't know that?" And yes, okay, that was another excellent point because Derek's life had been shittier than most. "But that doesn't mean that...things." He hesitated, because as much as he'd changed since Stiles could first remember knowing him, it obviously hadn't become easy for him to say this kind of thing. "Important things. Can't be done the right way."
Yeah. Derek was absolutely a secret romantic. Stiles' heart seemed to be thumping a little heavier than usual despite himself. "Okay," he said softly, feeling all strangely warm and shy now, which was ridiculous. "Well, for the record," he made himself say, because if Derek could be that truthful, it felt only right that he was, too. "I'm ready. To try. Whenever you want." Derek nodded, not seeming surprised, but from the look on his face... "But I'm not the only who he needs to be ready, got it." Stiles had seriously never suspected that he'd be in this position with another guy; guys were guys, right? They always wanted to do whatever would lead to sex. Even though Stiles knew that was bullshit being a guy himself, when you heard something often enough you almost started to buy into it.
Derek's past had been truly tragic - he'd lost practically his entire family in one fell swoop at the age of 16, only to have his sister murdered a few years later. It was amazing he was even able to function, never mind turn out to be the stubborn, shockingly thoughtful man he was. And the others may have refused to tell him any details, but whatever 'relationship' Derek had had with a human had obviously ended badly-
"Can you keep a secret?"
Appalled that Scott even needed to ask, Stiles just looked at him. They were spread out Stiles' bedroom floor, obstenibly to get their Chemistry homework done. In reality, Stiles was finished and was pretending he hadn't so Scott might actually get somewhere. Scott just kept absently scrawling A.A. on everything and sighing melodramatically. Stiles had hoped that now everything was out in the open between Scott and Allison, Scott might finally realise the gravity of the situation he was in, dating a hunter's daughter.
Alas, it was not to be, and the two of them were sneaking around having all the sex they could get away with at every opportunity. It was a miracle they hadn't been caught yet.
If he were actually capable of it, he'd kind of hate them right now.
"Right," Scott finally realised. "I'm a werewolf."
Stiles was pretty sure Scott actually forgot that sometimes. "And in today's edition of stating the blindingly obvious..." Stiles declared, which prompted Scott to throw a pen lid at him. Stiles easily batted it away before the two of them grinned stupidly at each other for a few moments.
Eventually, Scott's smile lessened and he glanced down. "Allison's started telling me stuff. About her aunt."
Stiles' forehead pulled into a frown. "I take it this is something else other than her being a mass murderer?" Because dude, it wasn't like that wasn't disturbing enough already.
"Apparently, after Kate told...showed her the truth about werewolves, she let some other things slip, too. And from the way she spoke about Derek..."
"What about him?"
Scott glanced towards the door, as if only now it was important enough to check that it was closed (when they'd already been talking about werewolves and murderers and God, Scott was useless sometimes). "Allison's pretty sure Kate seduced Derek when he was 16. That was how she got all the intel she needed for the fire - when they'd all be there, when the best time to set the fire would be. And as far as Allison could tell, it wasn't just sex for Derek. He was really into her, you know? And then she did...that to him."
Jesus. Derek might have been a grumpy-faced tool, but now he had even more reasons for it. Stiles couldn't imagine having to deal with that level of betrayal on top of everything else. And Kate Argent had to be...what, at the time? 23? 24? The cold calculatedness of it was shocking, enough that even Scott actually seemed to feel sorry for him, when Derek had been on his shit-list since taking any chance of the cure away from him.
"That's fucked up, dude."
"Tell me about it," Scott nodded.
"So, does that mean you're gonna cut Derek some slack?"
Frowning at him like he was speaking Swahili or something, Scott made a WTF face. "This isn't about Derek." Of course it wasn't. Stiles should've known better. "Could you imagine if Allison ever did anything like that to me?" Of course it was about Allison.
"Never gonna happen," Stiles assured him with a sigh, reaching out to pat him on the back.
"No, I know," Scott agreed quickly, "but imagine if she did."
Yeah. Stiles seriously needed a new best friend. Or at least one who wasn't so obsessed with his girlfriend.
Derek was still staring at him, seemingly unaware that anything had happened.
Well, fuck.
That put a whole new level of awfulness and twisted over everything, put everything Derek had said in a new light.
Made Stiles feel even more guilty for his behaviour in the train.
Licking his lips, not wanting to let Derek know what he'd just remembered, he gestured vaguely in the direction of the exit. "I should go." He didn't move, though, seemingly trapped by the power of the stare Derek had fixed him with.
Finally moving, finally stepping around the sofa, Derek paused next to the table. Looked awkward as hell. Forced out whatever he was thinking. "If you still want...comfort."
Stiles didn't even know what it was that Derek was offering, exactly. It clearly wasn't kissing or anything beyond that. He didn't think it was the healing touch or whatever the actual term for it was. But it was something that clearly seemed important to Derek and it was that thought as much as the curiousity that made him stay. He might have nodded, he wasn't sure, but then Derek was moving back towards the train carriage. Realising he was meant to follow, Stiles did, pausing when Derek stopped at the door and turned to give him a knowing look.
He immediately knew what it meant. "No funny business," he promised, holding his hands up.
Nodding, Derek turned back and climbed up into the carriage. Stiles wasn't sure what he was expecting by the time he stepped into the carriage himself, but it wasn't to see Derek settling down onto one of the mattresses, holding up one side of the blanket in obvious invitation, wearing a look in his eye that said he was kind of embarrassed but totally wanted to do this.
Stiles may have kicked his sneakers off. They ended up...somewhere.
Derek's small, private grin was something to behold.
It was weird, of course, by the time Stiles actually got down onto the mattress. They just kind of looked at each other, not touching.
"I haven't..." Stiles felt compelled to say, staring at Derek's face, so close to his own. "Technically I haven't slept with anyone in a long time. As in, slept slept, you know?" That needed specifying. He didn't wait for Derek to respond. "There was Scott at a few sleepovers, but..." They'd got a bit old for that a while back. "So, um." Wow, Derek's eyelashes were really distracting. "You?"
His mouth pulled into an interesting shape. "Not since before the fire."
Right. Yeah. He didn't know if that meant Derek had never had sex since then, but he'd certainly never trusted anyone enough to do this with them.
Until now.
And Stiles was suddenly feeling way less awkward. "What about hugs?" he asked, speaking mostly to himself, shifting closer, letting his hand rest on Derek's side. "I bet we need to get some hugging action in - you don't seem like much of a hugger. Luckily for you it's a Stilinski specialty and anyway, you promised comfort. Now, I agree, we didn't really discuss terms, but I'm afraid that for me, comfort means hugging and hugging means touching. So, if that's not really your thing you should - whoa."
Derek had moved, suddenly, rolling onto his back but reaching out to grab Stiles, bringing him with him. By the time Derek had stopped moving around, Stiles was sprawled half on top of him and was trying not to focus on just how good Derek's body felt beneath his.
Focus. This wasn't just about him.
"Or you could just do that," Stiles announced, beginning to realise he was going to have to work on this sleeping-with-another-person thing, especially if it became a habit (he really, really hoped it became a habit, for oh-so-many reasons). One arm was resting on Derek's chest, but the other was kind of trapped beneath him. "We may have to-"
"Stiles, shut up," Derek instructed, closing his eyes. "Or we'll never get any sleep."
For once, Stiles let himself be told what to do. Relaxed and sunk down into the mattress, against Derek, as much as he could. Bit his lip as he tried not to smile, taking in Derek's profile.
It was comforting.
*
There were nightmares, of course. Stiles woke them up first, crying out as Dream Dad was hit over the head again and again, until there was nothing of his skull left. He woke to Derek urgently saying his name, arms wrapped tight around him as Stiles kicked and flailed.
"Let go," Stiles instructed, "let go." Derek did and Stiles shifted on the bed, unintentionally whacking Derek with the arm he seemingly had no control of because, ow, pins and needles. He hated pins and needles. "Okay, we need to find a new way of doing this," he complained, deciding to focus on this rather than the delightful dream he'd just endured, forcing himself to bend the fingers of the afflicted hand. As anticipated, the blood supply started to rush back in - bringing with it more pain. "Oh my God, pins and needles, pins and needles, you are the worst source of comfort in the world."
Grunting, Derek grabbed the offending arm and started fondling it. Stiles didn't know if it was helping or not, but anything that might get the blood supply back faster and thus hurt for a shorter period of time was worth attempting.
It was Derek's turn a couple of hours later, actually waking Stiles with a sleep-growl. Stiles ended up pinned to the bed, Derek on top of him, hands fisted into the sheets - or maybe his claws, Stiles wasn't quite sure - breathing hotly into Stiles' neck as he tried to get himself under control. "The things Gerard was doing," Derek ground out, shaking. "How scared you were. The things he was doing."
Swallowing hard, Stiles could only rub his hands down Derek's back, along his sides. "You idiot," he said, over and over again, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "You idiot."
When he was woken up by the sound of his phone going off, Stiles flailed around before finding it lying next to the mattress. Derek moaned next to him - which was not in any way hot - drawing him closer.
It was just past 7am, and he wasn't really surprised to see that Dad was calling.
That didn't make it any less stressful to answer the phone. "Hi, Dad!" Okay, so he may have been pasting it on a little.
"I got your note," Dad said immediately. "Everything okay?"
Turning his head to glance at Derek, seeing his eyes blink open blearily as he woke up, Stiles felt a flood of warmth in his chest. "At the moment, yeah."
"Good," Dad said firmly. "And now I perform my fatherly duties and remind you that you need to come home so you can get your ass to school, and hope that you were safe last night."
Oh my God. "Dad." Derek produced a sleepy chuckle next to him, clearly having heard everything with his freaky annoying werewolf ears.
"Also, if this is going to keep happening, we need to have words."
Pulling the phone away from his ear, Stiles brought the mouthpiece right to his mouth. "Okay, thanks Dad! I'll be back soon! Love you, bye bye!" Ending the call, he grumpily tossed his phone to the side. There was no way he was up for any of those conversations this morning. He didn't really feel like he'd slept at all.
Focusing back on Derek, he shifted on the mattress until they were lying the way they had been when they'd crawled in last night - facing each other. Derek was smiling at him sleepily.
That wasn't hot at all, either.
"How'd you sleep?"
The shoulder Derek wasn't lying on moved in a shrug. "Had better."
"Me too," Stiles agreed, but also thought of the way Derek had been there, all night. The ways Derek had tried to help him, the ways Derek had let himself be helped. He didn't know what it was about the timing or the situation that'd made it happen, but he was sure that was the most open Derek had ever been with him. It made him want to do things, like reach out a hand, drag his fingers down the side of Derek's impossibly perfect face.
So he did.
Derek blinked at him slowly, but didn't tell him to stop.
It was kind of inevitable that, eventually, his fingers would drag across Derek's mouth. Stiles' gaze followed their path and he had to ask, he'd kick himself if he didn't.
"So, I know we're both mostly exhausted, but last night was still...good, when it wasn't being really crappy." He shrugged because hey, the truth was the truth. "In a way we kind of...saved each other." And yes, that was cheesy as hell, but he was working on a theme, here. He finally lifted his gaze, forcing himself to meet Derek's gaze. "I guess the question is...was it fairy tale enough for you?"
Derek blinked at him a few more times, and Stiles could see the moment he got it, see the moment he realised exactly what Stiles was asking, implying. Licking his lips, Derek stared at him. "I think it's...close enough."
Oh, thank God.
Stiles was forced to admit that Derek was right, though. As hot as the anger and being pushed against things was, this wasn't about desperation. This was just because it felt right.
He already knew what Derek felt like pressed on top of him but this was different now, with intent. Stiles opened his legs automatically, so one of Derek's could slot in as they finally pressed their mouths together. There was morning breath, which Stiles had completely forgotten about, but after a while it didn't matter at all. They kissed slowly and deeply, still really half-asleep, Stiles' hands going to Derek's hair, scraping at an exposed strip of skin where his shirt pulled up, resting at the top of Derek's ass just because he could, because he was allowed.
After a while it wasn't quite enough, though, and Stiles pushed at Derek to get him onto his back and Derek let him, didn't object as Stiles rolled them over and ended up straddling Derek's hips. Stiles bent down to kiss him again but Derek rose up to meet him and Stiles really wasn't sleepy now, really wasn't at all, especially with the way Derek's nails scratched down his back over his shirt, with the way Derek broke the kiss to mouth at the curve of Stiles' neck, with the way he could feel that Derek was enjoying this just as much as he was.
It was safe to say, then, that when Derek roughly pushed Stiles onto his back again, the last thing he expected was for Derek to pull away.
"Buh-guuh?" Stiles asked, or something close to it, completely lost, hands still grabbing for where Derek should be.
But Derek was sitting up, turning away. "You need to go. School."
Okay, he'd clearly missed something here. Reaching out a hand, he touched Derek on the arm. "Derek..."
Derek just said one word. He only needed to say one word, really, that made Stiles find his sneakers and quietly leave, made him go without question:
"Please."
TBC
by Suz
Thank you to the wonderful rhiannonhero :) Feedback would be wonderful :)
Ha! So RL got WORSE. WTH? Totally behind on comments, but I needed something good. So here's another part.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16.
*
Stiles had an admittedly small basis for comparison, but the kissing seemed really, really good. For the first five seconds.
Because that was when Derek wrenched himself away, stumbling out of kissing and groping range - so not fair - not even staying to look Stiles in the eye, instead moving out the carriage as fast as werewolf-ly possible.
He was running away. Again.
"Hey!" Stiles called out, only half-joking as he took off after him. "You come back here and you kiss me!" He paused as he got to the open door of the carriage, because - oh, yeah. Erica and Boyd were definitely still right there, staring at Stiles like they were really, really disturbed.
They'd just actually heard him yell that. Even in jest. Right.
Derek - who was actually standing behind the sofa, like it would protect him from Stiles, like he needed protecting from Stiles - looked equally disturbed. "Get out," he instructed and it took Stiles a moment to realise he wasn't the one being addressed. Boyd and Erica didn't hesitate, seeming only too glad to get the hell out of there.
Neither he or Derek moved, said or did anything other than look at each other until they were alone.
It gave Stiles the time he needed to calm down, take the sharper edges off his frustration, realise just how wounded Derek looked. Stiles was no expert, but he was pretty sure that wasn't the way you were supposed to look right after kissing someone. There was something else going on here, something other than Derek just needing to be ridiculously noble.
So he stayed where he was. Didn't move any closer. And realised that, disturbingly, maybe he had needed that 'no means no' talk Dad had given him when he turned 15, because Derek had been telling him no in a variety of ways and he'd been so intent that he hadn't even paid attention.
That was more than a little disturbing to realise.
"Sorry," he said then, quietly, because he had to, because shame was making his face heat up, making it harder and harder to meet Derek's gaze. Derek probably didn't even want him there right now. "I'll go," he offered, but as he turned to leave, Derek suddenly spoke.
"Why did you kiss me?"
Well, duh. Stiles had a whole bullet point list of reasons and after what'd just happened, the least he could do was give Derek what he was asking for, even if it was vaguely embarrassing. "Uh, have you seen you?" he started, making Derek glance down at himself briefly. "Not to mention the fact that we...like each other. And I wanted to kiss you." He paused, contemplating. "Mostly," he admitted, and knew this didn't sound particularly good even as it was coming out of his mouth, "I kissed you because I had an unbelievably shitty day and I wanted something...good." He glanced off to one side, not having realised until that moment how much of himself he'd be giving away, but knowing that he owed Derek this. "I wanted some comfort."
Nodding slowly like this wasn't a surprise, like it was mostly what he expected to hear, Derek responded. "It didn't feel right," he said in an abrupt sentence, because he was still Derek. "It should be...because we're both in a place where we want it. Not..." He shrugged. "Not because of a shitty day."
Stiles was learning more and more about Derek all the time. "You're a secret romantic," he said, voice half-teasing, half-amazement. Derek produced an impressive bitch-face in response, but Stiles couldn't stop talking. "Life is seriously not like it is in fairy tales, Derek."
He snorted. "Clearly you've never read the originals."
Conceding the point, Stiles corrected himself. "Life is seriously not like it is in the Disney fairy tales, Derek."
That made his lips quirk into a smile, at least. "You think I - me of all people - don't know that?" And yes, okay, that was another excellent point because Derek's life had been shittier than most. "But that doesn't mean that...things." He hesitated, because as much as he'd changed since Stiles could first remember knowing him, it obviously hadn't become easy for him to say this kind of thing. "Important things. Can't be done the right way."
Yeah. Derek was absolutely a secret romantic. Stiles' heart seemed to be thumping a little heavier than usual despite himself. "Okay," he said softly, feeling all strangely warm and shy now, which was ridiculous. "Well, for the record," he made himself say, because if Derek could be that truthful, it felt only right that he was, too. "I'm ready. To try. Whenever you want." Derek nodded, not seeming surprised, but from the look on his face... "But I'm not the only who he needs to be ready, got it." Stiles had seriously never suspected that he'd be in this position with another guy; guys were guys, right? They always wanted to do whatever would lead to sex. Even though Stiles knew that was bullshit being a guy himself, when you heard something often enough you almost started to buy into it.
Derek's past had been truly tragic - he'd lost practically his entire family in one fell swoop at the age of 16, only to have his sister murdered a few years later. It was amazing he was even able to function, never mind turn out to be the stubborn, shockingly thoughtful man he was. And the others may have refused to tell him any details, but whatever 'relationship' Derek had had with a human had obviously ended badly-
"Can you keep a secret?"
Appalled that Scott even needed to ask, Stiles just looked at him. They were spread out Stiles' bedroom floor, obstenibly to get their Chemistry homework done. In reality, Stiles was finished and was pretending he hadn't so Scott might actually get somewhere. Scott just kept absently scrawling A.A. on everything and sighing melodramatically. Stiles had hoped that now everything was out in the open between Scott and Allison, Scott might finally realise the gravity of the situation he was in, dating a hunter's daughter.
Alas, it was not to be, and the two of them were sneaking around having all the sex they could get away with at every opportunity. It was a miracle they hadn't been caught yet.
If he were actually capable of it, he'd kind of hate them right now.
"Right," Scott finally realised. "I'm a werewolf."
Stiles was pretty sure Scott actually forgot that sometimes. "And in today's edition of stating the blindingly obvious..." Stiles declared, which prompted Scott to throw a pen lid at him. Stiles easily batted it away before the two of them grinned stupidly at each other for a few moments.
Eventually, Scott's smile lessened and he glanced down. "Allison's started telling me stuff. About her aunt."
Stiles' forehead pulled into a frown. "I take it this is something else other than her being a mass murderer?" Because dude, it wasn't like that wasn't disturbing enough already.
"Apparently, after Kate told...showed her the truth about werewolves, she let some other things slip, too. And from the way she spoke about Derek..."
"What about him?"
Scott glanced towards the door, as if only now it was important enough to check that it was closed (when they'd already been talking about werewolves and murderers and God, Scott was useless sometimes). "Allison's pretty sure Kate seduced Derek when he was 16. That was how she got all the intel she needed for the fire - when they'd all be there, when the best time to set the fire would be. And as far as Allison could tell, it wasn't just sex for Derek. He was really into her, you know? And then she did...that to him."
Jesus. Derek might have been a grumpy-faced tool, but now he had even more reasons for it. Stiles couldn't imagine having to deal with that level of betrayal on top of everything else. And Kate Argent had to be...what, at the time? 23? 24? The cold calculatedness of it was shocking, enough that even Scott actually seemed to feel sorry for him, when Derek had been on his shit-list since taking any chance of the cure away from him.
"That's fucked up, dude."
"Tell me about it," Scott nodded.
"So, does that mean you're gonna cut Derek some slack?"
Frowning at him like he was speaking Swahili or something, Scott made a WTF face. "This isn't about Derek." Of course it wasn't. Stiles should've known better. "Could you imagine if Allison ever did anything like that to me?" Of course it was about Allison.
"Never gonna happen," Stiles assured him with a sigh, reaching out to pat him on the back.
"No, I know," Scott agreed quickly, "but imagine if she did."
Yeah. Stiles seriously needed a new best friend. Or at least one who wasn't so obsessed with his girlfriend.
Derek was still staring at him, seemingly unaware that anything had happened.
Well, fuck.
That put a whole new level of awfulness and twisted over everything, put everything Derek had said in a new light.
Made Stiles feel even more guilty for his behaviour in the train.
Licking his lips, not wanting to let Derek know what he'd just remembered, he gestured vaguely in the direction of the exit. "I should go." He didn't move, though, seemingly trapped by the power of the stare Derek had fixed him with.
Finally moving, finally stepping around the sofa, Derek paused next to the table. Looked awkward as hell. Forced out whatever he was thinking. "If you still want...comfort."
Stiles didn't even know what it was that Derek was offering, exactly. It clearly wasn't kissing or anything beyond that. He didn't think it was the healing touch or whatever the actual term for it was. But it was something that clearly seemed important to Derek and it was that thought as much as the curiousity that made him stay. He might have nodded, he wasn't sure, but then Derek was moving back towards the train carriage. Realising he was meant to follow, Stiles did, pausing when Derek stopped at the door and turned to give him a knowing look.
He immediately knew what it meant. "No funny business," he promised, holding his hands up.
Nodding, Derek turned back and climbed up into the carriage. Stiles wasn't sure what he was expecting by the time he stepped into the carriage himself, but it wasn't to see Derek settling down onto one of the mattresses, holding up one side of the blanket in obvious invitation, wearing a look in his eye that said he was kind of embarrassed but totally wanted to do this.
Stiles may have kicked his sneakers off. They ended up...somewhere.
Derek's small, private grin was something to behold.
It was weird, of course, by the time Stiles actually got down onto the mattress. They just kind of looked at each other, not touching.
"I haven't..." Stiles felt compelled to say, staring at Derek's face, so close to his own. "Technically I haven't slept with anyone in a long time. As in, slept slept, you know?" That needed specifying. He didn't wait for Derek to respond. "There was Scott at a few sleepovers, but..." They'd got a bit old for that a while back. "So, um." Wow, Derek's eyelashes were really distracting. "You?"
His mouth pulled into an interesting shape. "Not since before the fire."
Right. Yeah. He didn't know if that meant Derek had never had sex since then, but he'd certainly never trusted anyone enough to do this with them.
Until now.
And Stiles was suddenly feeling way less awkward. "What about hugs?" he asked, speaking mostly to himself, shifting closer, letting his hand rest on Derek's side. "I bet we need to get some hugging action in - you don't seem like much of a hugger. Luckily for you it's a Stilinski specialty and anyway, you promised comfort. Now, I agree, we didn't really discuss terms, but I'm afraid that for me, comfort means hugging and hugging means touching. So, if that's not really your thing you should - whoa."
Derek had moved, suddenly, rolling onto his back but reaching out to grab Stiles, bringing him with him. By the time Derek had stopped moving around, Stiles was sprawled half on top of him and was trying not to focus on just how good Derek's body felt beneath his.
Focus. This wasn't just about him.
"Or you could just do that," Stiles announced, beginning to realise he was going to have to work on this sleeping-with-another-person thing, especially if it became a habit (he really, really hoped it became a habit, for oh-so-many reasons). One arm was resting on Derek's chest, but the other was kind of trapped beneath him. "We may have to-"
"Stiles, shut up," Derek instructed, closing his eyes. "Or we'll never get any sleep."
For once, Stiles let himself be told what to do. Relaxed and sunk down into the mattress, against Derek, as much as he could. Bit his lip as he tried not to smile, taking in Derek's profile.
It was comforting.
*
There were nightmares, of course. Stiles woke them up first, crying out as Dream Dad was hit over the head again and again, until there was nothing of his skull left. He woke to Derek urgently saying his name, arms wrapped tight around him as Stiles kicked and flailed.
"Let go," Stiles instructed, "let go." Derek did and Stiles shifted on the bed, unintentionally whacking Derek with the arm he seemingly had no control of because, ow, pins and needles. He hated pins and needles. "Okay, we need to find a new way of doing this," he complained, deciding to focus on this rather than the delightful dream he'd just endured, forcing himself to bend the fingers of the afflicted hand. As anticipated, the blood supply started to rush back in - bringing with it more pain. "Oh my God, pins and needles, pins and needles, you are the worst source of comfort in the world."
Grunting, Derek grabbed the offending arm and started fondling it. Stiles didn't know if it was helping or not, but anything that might get the blood supply back faster and thus hurt for a shorter period of time was worth attempting.
It was Derek's turn a couple of hours later, actually waking Stiles with a sleep-growl. Stiles ended up pinned to the bed, Derek on top of him, hands fisted into the sheets - or maybe his claws, Stiles wasn't quite sure - breathing hotly into Stiles' neck as he tried to get himself under control. "The things Gerard was doing," Derek ground out, shaking. "How scared you were. The things he was doing."
Swallowing hard, Stiles could only rub his hands down Derek's back, along his sides. "You idiot," he said, over and over again, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "You idiot."
When he was woken up by the sound of his phone going off, Stiles flailed around before finding it lying next to the mattress. Derek moaned next to him - which was not in any way hot - drawing him closer.
It was just past 7am, and he wasn't really surprised to see that Dad was calling.
That didn't make it any less stressful to answer the phone. "Hi, Dad!" Okay, so he may have been pasting it on a little.
"I got your note," Dad said immediately. "Everything okay?"
Turning his head to glance at Derek, seeing his eyes blink open blearily as he woke up, Stiles felt a flood of warmth in his chest. "At the moment, yeah."
"Good," Dad said firmly. "And now I perform my fatherly duties and remind you that you need to come home so you can get your ass to school, and hope that you were safe last night."
Oh my God. "Dad." Derek produced a sleepy chuckle next to him, clearly having heard everything with his freaky annoying werewolf ears.
"Also, if this is going to keep happening, we need to have words."
Pulling the phone away from his ear, Stiles brought the mouthpiece right to his mouth. "Okay, thanks Dad! I'll be back soon! Love you, bye bye!" Ending the call, he grumpily tossed his phone to the side. There was no way he was up for any of those conversations this morning. He didn't really feel like he'd slept at all.
Focusing back on Derek, he shifted on the mattress until they were lying the way they had been when they'd crawled in last night - facing each other. Derek was smiling at him sleepily.
That wasn't hot at all, either.
"How'd you sleep?"
The shoulder Derek wasn't lying on moved in a shrug. "Had better."
"Me too," Stiles agreed, but also thought of the way Derek had been there, all night. The ways Derek had tried to help him, the ways Derek had let himself be helped. He didn't know what it was about the timing or the situation that'd made it happen, but he was sure that was the most open Derek had ever been with him. It made him want to do things, like reach out a hand, drag his fingers down the side of Derek's impossibly perfect face.
So he did.
Derek blinked at him slowly, but didn't tell him to stop.
It was kind of inevitable that, eventually, his fingers would drag across Derek's mouth. Stiles' gaze followed their path and he had to ask, he'd kick himself if he didn't.
"So, I know we're both mostly exhausted, but last night was still...good, when it wasn't being really crappy." He shrugged because hey, the truth was the truth. "In a way we kind of...saved each other." And yes, that was cheesy as hell, but he was working on a theme, here. He finally lifted his gaze, forcing himself to meet Derek's gaze. "I guess the question is...was it fairy tale enough for you?"
Derek blinked at him a few more times, and Stiles could see the moment he got it, see the moment he realised exactly what Stiles was asking, implying. Licking his lips, Derek stared at him. "I think it's...close enough."
Oh, thank God.
Stiles was forced to admit that Derek was right, though. As hot as the anger and being pushed against things was, this wasn't about desperation. This was just because it felt right.
He already knew what Derek felt like pressed on top of him but this was different now, with intent. Stiles opened his legs automatically, so one of Derek's could slot in as they finally pressed their mouths together. There was morning breath, which Stiles had completely forgotten about, but after a while it didn't matter at all. They kissed slowly and deeply, still really half-asleep, Stiles' hands going to Derek's hair, scraping at an exposed strip of skin where his shirt pulled up, resting at the top of Derek's ass just because he could, because he was allowed.
After a while it wasn't quite enough, though, and Stiles pushed at Derek to get him onto his back and Derek let him, didn't object as Stiles rolled them over and ended up straddling Derek's hips. Stiles bent down to kiss him again but Derek rose up to meet him and Stiles really wasn't sleepy now, really wasn't at all, especially with the way Derek's nails scratched down his back over his shirt, with the way Derek broke the kiss to mouth at the curve of Stiles' neck, with the way he could feel that Derek was enjoying this just as much as he was.
It was safe to say, then, that when Derek roughly pushed Stiles onto his back again, the last thing he expected was for Derek to pull away.
"Buh-guuh?" Stiles asked, or something close to it, completely lost, hands still grabbing for where Derek should be.
But Derek was sitting up, turning away. "You need to go. School."
Okay, he'd clearly missed something here. Reaching out a hand, he touched Derek on the arm. "Derek..."
Derek just said one word. He only needed to say one word, really, that made Stiles find his sneakers and quietly leave, made him go without question:
"Please."
TBC