Someone should stop me...
Oh yes...I did it. I wrote Teen Wolf. TEEN WOLF!
Ok you know to be honest I blame these two...
(source)
Ok for those that don't know, Stiles is the little one on the left and Derek is the taller one on the right. Derek is a werewolf, Stiles isn't.
Ring
“You know, you could call,” Stiles mutters as Derek slides into the bed behind him, hands cool against Stiles’s warm chest, “you know, pick up the phone and ring me,” Derek grunts and his hand slides into Stiles’s pants and Stiles can’t remember why he cares that Derek always turns up without warning.
Hero
He’s never ever thought that he would be a hero, he’s too clumsy, too noisy, but Derek looks at him sometimes, with a look that makes Stiles’s chest warm, especially when he saves Scott’s ass yet again by some quick thinking, a look that makes Stiles feel that maybe, just maybe, he might be a hero after all.
Memory
Sometimes Stiles feels like there’s too much in his brain, like he wont remember all the little things about Derek, the way his lips twitch into a tiny half smile whenever Stiles does something stupid, and not too much as in useful knowledge, just crap, filling up spaces where memories should be, pressing at his brain and making him panic he wont remember the way Derek’s fingers feel against his skin.
Box
There’s a box in the middle of Stiles’s bed, wooden, carved almost ornately and Stiles looks at it with mistrust, like it might explode, as he reaches out and touches it gently, the lid creaks quietly as he lifts it open and inside there’s a small dagger, almost feminine, but the gleam of it is unmistakably Silver, and Derek’s hand is on a small piece of paper “to keep you safe, just in case.”
Run
Sometimes Derek just runs, forgets everything, the fire, Kate, the boys suddenly looking to him for guidance, Stiles and his tempting mouth, just runs until his heart pounds deafeningly in his ears and his chest burns with the effort of staying upright.
Hurricane
When Derek touches him, Stiles feels like he’s in the eye of a storm, the whole world raging around him and it just narrows down to him and Derek and the slide of skin against skin.
Wings
“Oh you have got to be kidding me? Seriously? I get attacked, threatened, beaten, nearly eaten, offered the Gift, and have come out pretty much in one piece and now you’re telling me there are wings coming out of my shoulders?” Stiles glares at Scott and Derek and Scott can’t help but laugh where as all Derek wants to do is find out if those feathers are as soft as they look.
Cold
“Stiles,” Derek growls but one look at Stiles’s pitiful face and his chattering teeth makes him shut up and let Stiles stick his freezing hands under Derek’s t-shirt.
Red
Stiles always looked good in red, but this red didn’t suit him, thick and sticky and running out over the dusty floor, over Derek’s fingers as he pressed into the gunshot wound and just tried to stop it, “don’t you dare die on me Stiles, don’t you dare.”
Drink
Stiles thinks he might be drunk, ok he’s pretty sure he’s drunk because the floor of Derek’s house doesn’t usually sway unless he’s drunk, although it might be collapsing finally, he clutches at the foot of the stairs and finds himself in Derek’s arms as the ground rises up to meet him.
Midnight
“Dragging me out in the middle of the night to train just to keep me up with the rest of the pack,” Stiles grumbles to himself as he picks his way through the woods to Derek’s house, “it’s so unfair,” he jumps when arms reach around him and Derek mouths at his pulse.
“Who said anything about training Stiles?”
Temptation
Stiles is too much of a temptation for Derek, the kids skin is warm and inviting, but he’s too human, too fragile so Derek has to try to stay away, no matter how much he wants to sink his fingers into Stiles’s skin.
View
“Slower,” Derek growls and Stiles bites on his bottom lip, whines, but slows his hand, his eyes still trained on Derek’s, “you look…” he starts and his words fail him as Stiles jerks and comes over his hand and Derek thinks it might be the most amazing sight ever.
Music
“You call this music?” Stiles jumps at the voice from his window ledge and repressed the urge to shove Derek back out of it, Derek lands almost silently and runs his hands over Stiles’s neck, fingers pressing under the soft skin of his chin, “I think we make better music,” he says and Stiles has to agree.
Silk
Stiles shifts, tugs experimentally against his bindings, the cool, soft material, silk he thinks absently where the hell did Derek get silk, slides against his skin and Derek’s fingers span out between his ribs, “might have to keep you like this,” Derek muses, licking at his bottom lip as he cocks his head to the side and Stiles’s words die in his throat again, “it’s the only time you’re quiet.”
Cover
“Jesus Stiles, get down,” Derek growls as he hauls Stiles down below the cover of the underbrush, and pulls him close, pressing a finger to Stiles’s lips, there’s a strange growling rumble that passes them and Stiles wants to get a close look at what’s been pursuing them through the woods, but Derek’s hand is still clutching at him, thumb stroking over Stiles’s neck every now and then and Stiles can do nothing but stay exactly where he is.
Promise
“Promise me you didn’t you think about accepting Peter,” Derek growls, fingers digging in hard to Stiles’s hips, keeping him grounded and Stiles’s shakes his head, groans as Derek shifts, tugs him closer with a hand flat to his back, “did you think about it?”
Stiles shakes his head again, fingers tangled in Derek’s hair and he breathes out a “no, only you could do that to me,” into Derek’s mouth before shuddering his release between them.
Dream
Stiles pulls himself from sleep, heart beating loudly as his dick throbs and the feel of Derek’s hands on his skin bleeds away, “what were you dreaming about?” Derek asks and Stiles jumps as his cool hands sneak around him and pulls him flush against his hard chest. Stiles shifts, tries to get close and feels Derek’s erection press into his back.
“You” he mutters as Derek turns them both and presses Stiles into the mattress.
“Good,” Derek mutters back.
Candle
“Keep still,” Derek’s voice is low, has that almost dangerous quality that Stiles has come to realise means that he’s going to get hurt, and he’s going to love every second of it, “good boy,” Derek practically purrs and then there’s a bloom of heat and pain and then Derek blows against the rapidly cooling wax and Stiles’s hips jerk upwards and he wonders when the hell he got so kinky.
Talent
The kids got a talent for getting into trouble, for opening his mouth when he should keep it closed, for over thinking things when he should just let go, for irritating the hell out of Derek, but he’s also got a talent for running his fingers down Derek’s face and soothing whatever foul mood is churning under Derek’s skin, for making Derek smile when all he wants to do is growl, and Derek can’t decide if he loves him or hates him for it.
Silence
“Would you just shut the hell up, for once?” Derek growls and Stiles wrinkles his nose as he contemplates the request, he crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his head to the side.
“Make me,” he says and there’s a gleam in Derek’s eye he hasn’t seen before and he swallows hard as Derek stalks towards him.
“Oh this is going to be fun.”
Journey
“Where are you going?” Derek pausing in stuffing the few clothes he has into Stiles’s borrowed (read stolen) knapsack.
“I have a few things to do, I may be a few days,” Derek replies, going back to ‘packing’ and Stiles frowns and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Road trip,” he says, forcing excitement and child like glee into his tone, “cool, I’ll come with.”
“Stiles,” Derek warns.
“Ok, first I have to tell my dad, he might not like me running off with a big scary grumpy werewolf, then I need to pack, where are we going? Is it going to be hot?” Stiles bites off his words as his back hits his door.
“Stiles,” Derek growls and Stiles frowns again, there’s something worried in Derek’s eyes so he shuts up without having to be told to. Derek sighs, presses their foreheads together and slides his fingers down Stiles’s cheek. “Just,” he starts and pulls back, grips Stiles’s chin between his fingers, “promise me you’ll stay here, please.”
And because it’s the first time Derek’s ever asked anything of Stiles with the word please, Stiles nods and Derek’s whole body seems to relax.
Fire
Sometimes he wakes up with a scream stuck in his throat, the sound of screaming still ringing in his ears and the smell of burning in his nostrils, sweat prickling on his forehead, and Stiles will shift, turn his nose into Derek’s neck and mutter something that Derek never hears properly, arms tightening and Derek falls back to sleep with the smell of Stiles in his nostrils instead.
Strength
Stiles’s body is lean, almost skinny, but there’s muscles flexing under his too delicate skin when Derek pushes inside, the muscles in his stomach taught and stark in the semi darkness, the muscles inside strong around Derek, letting him know that there’s a strength that belies his fragile look, a strength that Derek loves.
Mask
Its not often that Derek lets anyone behind his mask, let anyone close enough to see the real him, he did it once with Kate and its burned him, literally, but somehow Stiles wormed his way in and under and he grins at Derek in the way that Derek can’t help but mirror.
Ice
Stiles misses the blue of Derek’s eyes sometimes, the icy flash whenever he got angry, or wolfed out, blue and cold and it makes Stiles shiver just to think about it, he misses the way that blue would turn on him whenever Derek lost his control around Stiles, pushing into his body, because now when they flash red, Stiles feels a heat like fire, waiting to consume him whole and it scares the living shit out of him.
Fall
Derek’s fallen for the wrong person before, a pretty blond with a smile that could light up a room, an unique necklace and a fascination with fire, fallen hard and learnt his lesson, which is why he stays away from Stiles, watches from the sidelines as Stiles looks after everyone else, because although the kid looks harmless enough now, people can hurt you when you care about them.
Forgotten
Its been years since Stiles left Beacon Hills, years since he ran with his tail between his legs (ha…tail), away from Derek and his Pack and everything else, and he’s doing ok, he thinks, he tells Scott on the phone (“Derek misses you Stiles, come home”), he tells his dad (“ever feel like talking kiddo you know where I am”), and Stiles thinks, sometimes, that he’s forgotten the way Derek used to touch him and he’s grateful for that.
Dance
“Nice dance you two are doing,” Jackson sneers as he pulls his jacket over his shoulders and Stiles frowns, for once at a loss for words, “God Stiles, the sexual tension drowning me, do something about it and stop dancing around each other,” Jackson nods his head in Derek’s direction and Derek looks up, catches Stiles’s gaze and Stiles feels the ever present pull in his stomach and wonders when the hell Jackson got so aware.
Body
Stiles’s body is skinny, fragile, far too human, and Derek can fit his fingers between the kids ribs, can see the pulse beating under the skin of his neck and wonders how the kid doesn’t break in a light breeze.
Sacred
One of the things Derek learnt from the fire is that family is precious, he can still remember the way his mother used to move around the kitchen like a dancer, smooth and fluid like water, but as the noise of the awkward teenagers reach him from his makeshift meeting room, in the living room of his shell of a house, and Stiles’s loud laugh, he realises that it may not be perfect, but he has a sort of family again now.
Farewells
Derek has never been good at goodbyes, especially after his family was ripped from him, and especially now, when Stiles is shifting from foot to foot, his beaten up old jeep that holds so many memories stuffed to the brim with things, he doesn’t say anything, just hauls Stiles close and breathes in deep, “I’ll be home in a few months Derek,” and tries to commit his smell to memory.
World
Sometimes Stiles feels the world still spinning beneath his feet and it makes him dizzy, the fact that everyone else can just carry on living, when Stiles and his dad are surviving, it makes him angry sometimes, blood boiling and he lashes out at the only person he knows will understand, Derek, and Derek just lets him.
Formal
Stiles spends the first hour of the Winter Formal making small talk, dutifully dancing with Lydia and Allison and tugging at his collar, he spends the rest of the night pressed up against his jeep with Derek’s mouth against his throat and his dick in his ass.
Fever
The last time Stiles was sick his mother was still alive, cooling his head with her soft hands, pressing a kiss to his burning forehead, Stiles remembers that, and curls into a ball, hugging his pillow against him as Derek’s cold fingers slide across his temple, “got to get this fever down,” he mutters gruffly and Stiles groans and resists the urge to ask Derek to sing to him.
Laugh
He doesn’t laugh often, usually just sits there and watches his pack with his scowly grumpy face and Stiles, on more than one occasion, has tried to get Derek to at least smile, it doesn’t work until Derek has Stiles’s hands trapped over his head and is shifting his hips against Stiles’s and Stiles lets out a string of curses and Derek smiles against Stiles’s skin, then lets out a small laugh and Stiles doesn’t care that he’s pissed at the hot Alpha right now, he just needs to hear that noise again.
Lies
Derek can still hear his words, I don’t want you, they echo in his head as Stiles’s jeep careens off down the track away from him, it’s a lie, but he’s got a pack to run, and protect now, and he can’t do that when the kid spins him around to the point he doesn’t know which ways up anymore.
Forever
“Jesus Derek, don’t look so terrified, anyone would think I asked you to marry me,” Stiles shifts under him and Derek growls as his denim clad erection brushes over the kids, “I just want to have sex.”
Overwhelmed
“Oh sweet Jesus on a bicycle…” Stiles groans as Derek runs his tongue up his throat, he’s never felt so completely at someone’s mercy, so completely overwhelmed by someone and he has to admit that he loves it.
Whisper
“Come on Stiles, come,” Derek’s voice is just above a whisper, a soft growl against Stiles’s ear and he can do nothing accept obey.
Wait
People may think Stiles is impatient, an instant gratification kind of guy, but he can be patient when he wants to be, he can wait until Derek decides to stop being such an upstanding member of the werewolf community and fuck Stiles into the nearest hard surface.
Talk
“You talk too much,” Derek mutters mid Stiles’s sentence and Stiles pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, mumbles out a stuttered apology as Derek stalks closer and tugs on Stiles’s chin, pulling his lip from his teeth, thumb fitting perfectly in the curve under Stiles’s mouth, “that’s better.”
Search
“Where would he have taken him?” Scott asks and Derek runs a hand through his hair, Peter is out there somewhere with Stiles and he has no idea where they are, something dark and dangerous coils in his stomach, and he balls his fists by his sides, if Peter touches Stiles…
Hope
Stiles has never really let himself hope for anything, hope kind of goes out of the window when one of the two most important people in your life dies, but when Derek crushes their mouths together, finally, Stiles feels hope start to bloom in his chest.
Eclipse
The first thing Stiles knows about the eclipse is when Derek hauls him out of his jeep and pushes him to his knees, cards his fingers through Stiles’s short hair, groans as Stiles gets his mouth around him, then hauls Stiles back to his feet and has him against the door of the jeep, “I can’t get enough,” he growls into Stiles’s neck and Stiles lets his head fall back against the car and notices the moon start to slide across the sun.
Gravity
Sometimes Stiles thinks there some kind of weird force pulling him towards Derek, because he hates the guy, he’s more than slightly terrifying, grumpy, grouchy, has a weird obsession with slamming Stiles into hard surface, yet for some reason Stiles can’t keep away from him.
Highway
Derek likes to drive, fast, put his foot to the floor and see the road get swallowed up under his car, it makes him feel free for once.
Unknown
There’s something about the way Derek’s eyes slide down to Stiles’s mouth sometimes, especially when he thinks Stiles’s isn’t watching, that makes Stiles not give a crap about the fact he has no idea what he’s doing and just take when he wants from Derek.
Lock
“Stiles lock the door,” Derek jumps from the window ledge and Stiles flicks the lock without thinking.
“We never lock the door,” he says and Derek’s thumbs slide across Stiles’s cheekbones.
“I’m planning on making you scream my name and I’d rather someone didn’t burst in thinking I was murdering you.”
Breathe
“Stiles, breathe, dammit,” Derek’s voice reaches Stiles and he gasps, heaving in a breath, lungs protesting as he chokes and Derek’s hand is a warm presence at his back, rubbing circles as Stiles tries to rid his body of his lungs, his hands clutching at Derek’s jacket, “I got you.”
Ok you know to be honest I blame these two...
(source)
Ok for those that don't know, Stiles is the little one on the left and Derek is the taller one on the right. Derek is a werewolf, Stiles isn't.
Ring
“You know, you could call,” Stiles mutters as Derek slides into the bed behind him, hands cool against Stiles’s warm chest, “you know, pick up the phone and ring me,” Derek grunts and his hand slides into Stiles’s pants and Stiles can’t remember why he cares that Derek always turns up without warning.
Hero
He’s never ever thought that he would be a hero, he’s too clumsy, too noisy, but Derek looks at him sometimes, with a look that makes Stiles’s chest warm, especially when he saves Scott’s ass yet again by some quick thinking, a look that makes Stiles feel that maybe, just maybe, he might be a hero after all.
Memory
Sometimes Stiles feels like there’s too much in his brain, like he wont remember all the little things about Derek, the way his lips twitch into a tiny half smile whenever Stiles does something stupid, and not too much as in useful knowledge, just crap, filling up spaces where memories should be, pressing at his brain and making him panic he wont remember the way Derek’s fingers feel against his skin.
Box
There’s a box in the middle of Stiles’s bed, wooden, carved almost ornately and Stiles looks at it with mistrust, like it might explode, as he reaches out and touches it gently, the lid creaks quietly as he lifts it open and inside there’s a small dagger, almost feminine, but the gleam of it is unmistakably Silver, and Derek’s hand is on a small piece of paper “to keep you safe, just in case.”
Run
Sometimes Derek just runs, forgets everything, the fire, Kate, the boys suddenly looking to him for guidance, Stiles and his tempting mouth, just runs until his heart pounds deafeningly in his ears and his chest burns with the effort of staying upright.
Hurricane
When Derek touches him, Stiles feels like he’s in the eye of a storm, the whole world raging around him and it just narrows down to him and Derek and the slide of skin against skin.
Wings
“Oh you have got to be kidding me? Seriously? I get attacked, threatened, beaten, nearly eaten, offered the Gift, and have come out pretty much in one piece and now you’re telling me there are wings coming out of my shoulders?” Stiles glares at Scott and Derek and Scott can’t help but laugh where as all Derek wants to do is find out if those feathers are as soft as they look.
Cold
“Stiles,” Derek growls but one look at Stiles’s pitiful face and his chattering teeth makes him shut up and let Stiles stick his freezing hands under Derek’s t-shirt.
Red
Stiles always looked good in red, but this red didn’t suit him, thick and sticky and running out over the dusty floor, over Derek’s fingers as he pressed into the gunshot wound and just tried to stop it, “don’t you dare die on me Stiles, don’t you dare.”
Drink
Stiles thinks he might be drunk, ok he’s pretty sure he’s drunk because the floor of Derek’s house doesn’t usually sway unless he’s drunk, although it might be collapsing finally, he clutches at the foot of the stairs and finds himself in Derek’s arms as the ground rises up to meet him.
Midnight
“Dragging me out in the middle of the night to train just to keep me up with the rest of the pack,” Stiles grumbles to himself as he picks his way through the woods to Derek’s house, “it’s so unfair,” he jumps when arms reach around him and Derek mouths at his pulse.
“Who said anything about training Stiles?”
Temptation
Stiles is too much of a temptation for Derek, the kids skin is warm and inviting, but he’s too human, too fragile so Derek has to try to stay away, no matter how much he wants to sink his fingers into Stiles’s skin.
View
“Slower,” Derek growls and Stiles bites on his bottom lip, whines, but slows his hand, his eyes still trained on Derek’s, “you look…” he starts and his words fail him as Stiles jerks and comes over his hand and Derek thinks it might be the most amazing sight ever.
Music
“You call this music?” Stiles jumps at the voice from his window ledge and repressed the urge to shove Derek back out of it, Derek lands almost silently and runs his hands over Stiles’s neck, fingers pressing under the soft skin of his chin, “I think we make better music,” he says and Stiles has to agree.
Silk
Stiles shifts, tugs experimentally against his bindings, the cool, soft material, silk he thinks absently where the hell did Derek get silk, slides against his skin and Derek’s fingers span out between his ribs, “might have to keep you like this,” Derek muses, licking at his bottom lip as he cocks his head to the side and Stiles’s words die in his throat again, “it’s the only time you’re quiet.”
Cover
“Jesus Stiles, get down,” Derek growls as he hauls Stiles down below the cover of the underbrush, and pulls him close, pressing a finger to Stiles’s lips, there’s a strange growling rumble that passes them and Stiles wants to get a close look at what’s been pursuing them through the woods, but Derek’s hand is still clutching at him, thumb stroking over Stiles’s neck every now and then and Stiles can do nothing but stay exactly where he is.
Promise
“Promise me you didn’t you think about accepting Peter,” Derek growls, fingers digging in hard to Stiles’s hips, keeping him grounded and Stiles’s shakes his head, groans as Derek shifts, tugs him closer with a hand flat to his back, “did you think about it?”
Stiles shakes his head again, fingers tangled in Derek’s hair and he breathes out a “no, only you could do that to me,” into Derek’s mouth before shuddering his release between them.
Dream
Stiles pulls himself from sleep, heart beating loudly as his dick throbs and the feel of Derek’s hands on his skin bleeds away, “what were you dreaming about?” Derek asks and Stiles jumps as his cool hands sneak around him and pulls him flush against his hard chest. Stiles shifts, tries to get close and feels Derek’s erection press into his back.
“You” he mutters as Derek turns them both and presses Stiles into the mattress.
“Good,” Derek mutters back.
Candle
“Keep still,” Derek’s voice is low, has that almost dangerous quality that Stiles has come to realise means that he’s going to get hurt, and he’s going to love every second of it, “good boy,” Derek practically purrs and then there’s a bloom of heat and pain and then Derek blows against the rapidly cooling wax and Stiles’s hips jerk upwards and he wonders when the hell he got so kinky.
Talent
The kids got a talent for getting into trouble, for opening his mouth when he should keep it closed, for over thinking things when he should just let go, for irritating the hell out of Derek, but he’s also got a talent for running his fingers down Derek’s face and soothing whatever foul mood is churning under Derek’s skin, for making Derek smile when all he wants to do is growl, and Derek can’t decide if he loves him or hates him for it.
Silence
“Would you just shut the hell up, for once?” Derek growls and Stiles wrinkles his nose as he contemplates the request, he crosses his arms over his chest and cocks his head to the side.
“Make me,” he says and there’s a gleam in Derek’s eye he hasn’t seen before and he swallows hard as Derek stalks towards him.
“Oh this is going to be fun.”
Journey
“Where are you going?” Derek pausing in stuffing the few clothes he has into Stiles’s borrowed (read stolen) knapsack.
“I have a few things to do, I may be a few days,” Derek replies, going back to ‘packing’ and Stiles frowns and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Road trip,” he says, forcing excitement and child like glee into his tone, “cool, I’ll come with.”
“Stiles,” Derek warns.
“Ok, first I have to tell my dad, he might not like me running off with a big scary grumpy werewolf, then I need to pack, where are we going? Is it going to be hot?” Stiles bites off his words as his back hits his door.
“Stiles,” Derek growls and Stiles frowns again, there’s something worried in Derek’s eyes so he shuts up without having to be told to. Derek sighs, presses their foreheads together and slides his fingers down Stiles’s cheek. “Just,” he starts and pulls back, grips Stiles’s chin between his fingers, “promise me you’ll stay here, please.”
And because it’s the first time Derek’s ever asked anything of Stiles with the word please, Stiles nods and Derek’s whole body seems to relax.
Fire
Sometimes he wakes up with a scream stuck in his throat, the sound of screaming still ringing in his ears and the smell of burning in his nostrils, sweat prickling on his forehead, and Stiles will shift, turn his nose into Derek’s neck and mutter something that Derek never hears properly, arms tightening and Derek falls back to sleep with the smell of Stiles in his nostrils instead.
Strength
Stiles’s body is lean, almost skinny, but there’s muscles flexing under his too delicate skin when Derek pushes inside, the muscles in his stomach taught and stark in the semi darkness, the muscles inside strong around Derek, letting him know that there’s a strength that belies his fragile look, a strength that Derek loves.
Mask
Its not often that Derek lets anyone behind his mask, let anyone close enough to see the real him, he did it once with Kate and its burned him, literally, but somehow Stiles wormed his way in and under and he grins at Derek in the way that Derek can’t help but mirror.
Ice
Stiles misses the blue of Derek’s eyes sometimes, the icy flash whenever he got angry, or wolfed out, blue and cold and it makes Stiles shiver just to think about it, he misses the way that blue would turn on him whenever Derek lost his control around Stiles, pushing into his body, because now when they flash red, Stiles feels a heat like fire, waiting to consume him whole and it scares the living shit out of him.
Fall
Derek’s fallen for the wrong person before, a pretty blond with a smile that could light up a room, an unique necklace and a fascination with fire, fallen hard and learnt his lesson, which is why he stays away from Stiles, watches from the sidelines as Stiles looks after everyone else, because although the kid looks harmless enough now, people can hurt you when you care about them.
Forgotten
Its been years since Stiles left Beacon Hills, years since he ran with his tail between his legs (ha…tail), away from Derek and his Pack and everything else, and he’s doing ok, he thinks, he tells Scott on the phone (“Derek misses you Stiles, come home”), he tells his dad (“ever feel like talking kiddo you know where I am”), and Stiles thinks, sometimes, that he’s forgotten the way Derek used to touch him and he’s grateful for that.
Dance
“Nice dance you two are doing,” Jackson sneers as he pulls his jacket over his shoulders and Stiles frowns, for once at a loss for words, “God Stiles, the sexual tension drowning me, do something about it and stop dancing around each other,” Jackson nods his head in Derek’s direction and Derek looks up, catches Stiles’s gaze and Stiles feels the ever present pull in his stomach and wonders when the hell Jackson got so aware.
Body
Stiles’s body is skinny, fragile, far too human, and Derek can fit his fingers between the kids ribs, can see the pulse beating under the skin of his neck and wonders how the kid doesn’t break in a light breeze.
Sacred
One of the things Derek learnt from the fire is that family is precious, he can still remember the way his mother used to move around the kitchen like a dancer, smooth and fluid like water, but as the noise of the awkward teenagers reach him from his makeshift meeting room, in the living room of his shell of a house, and Stiles’s loud laugh, he realises that it may not be perfect, but he has a sort of family again now.
Farewells
Derek has never been good at goodbyes, especially after his family was ripped from him, and especially now, when Stiles is shifting from foot to foot, his beaten up old jeep that holds so many memories stuffed to the brim with things, he doesn’t say anything, just hauls Stiles close and breathes in deep, “I’ll be home in a few months Derek,” and tries to commit his smell to memory.
World
Sometimes Stiles feels the world still spinning beneath his feet and it makes him dizzy, the fact that everyone else can just carry on living, when Stiles and his dad are surviving, it makes him angry sometimes, blood boiling and he lashes out at the only person he knows will understand, Derek, and Derek just lets him.
Formal
Stiles spends the first hour of the Winter Formal making small talk, dutifully dancing with Lydia and Allison and tugging at his collar, he spends the rest of the night pressed up against his jeep with Derek’s mouth against his throat and his dick in his ass.
Fever
The last time Stiles was sick his mother was still alive, cooling his head with her soft hands, pressing a kiss to his burning forehead, Stiles remembers that, and curls into a ball, hugging his pillow against him as Derek’s cold fingers slide across his temple, “got to get this fever down,” he mutters gruffly and Stiles groans and resists the urge to ask Derek to sing to him.
Laugh
He doesn’t laugh often, usually just sits there and watches his pack with his scowly grumpy face and Stiles, on more than one occasion, has tried to get Derek to at least smile, it doesn’t work until Derek has Stiles’s hands trapped over his head and is shifting his hips against Stiles’s and Stiles lets out a string of curses and Derek smiles against Stiles’s skin, then lets out a small laugh and Stiles doesn’t care that he’s pissed at the hot Alpha right now, he just needs to hear that noise again.
Lies
Derek can still hear his words, I don’t want you, they echo in his head as Stiles’s jeep careens off down the track away from him, it’s a lie, but he’s got a pack to run, and protect now, and he can’t do that when the kid spins him around to the point he doesn’t know which ways up anymore.
Forever
“Jesus Derek, don’t look so terrified, anyone would think I asked you to marry me,” Stiles shifts under him and Derek growls as his denim clad erection brushes over the kids, “I just want to have sex.”
Overwhelmed
“Oh sweet Jesus on a bicycle…” Stiles groans as Derek runs his tongue up his throat, he’s never felt so completely at someone’s mercy, so completely overwhelmed by someone and he has to admit that he loves it.
Whisper
“Come on Stiles, come,” Derek’s voice is just above a whisper, a soft growl against Stiles’s ear and he can do nothing accept obey.
Wait
People may think Stiles is impatient, an instant gratification kind of guy, but he can be patient when he wants to be, he can wait until Derek decides to stop being such an upstanding member of the werewolf community and fuck Stiles into the nearest hard surface.
Talk
“You talk too much,” Derek mutters mid Stiles’s sentence and Stiles pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, mumbles out a stuttered apology as Derek stalks closer and tugs on Stiles’s chin, pulling his lip from his teeth, thumb fitting perfectly in the curve under Stiles’s mouth, “that’s better.”
Search
“Where would he have taken him?” Scott asks and Derek runs a hand through his hair, Peter is out there somewhere with Stiles and he has no idea where they are, something dark and dangerous coils in his stomach, and he balls his fists by his sides, if Peter touches Stiles…
Hope
Stiles has never really let himself hope for anything, hope kind of goes out of the window when one of the two most important people in your life dies, but when Derek crushes their mouths together, finally, Stiles feels hope start to bloom in his chest.
Eclipse
The first thing Stiles knows about the eclipse is when Derek hauls him out of his jeep and pushes him to his knees, cards his fingers through Stiles’s short hair, groans as Stiles gets his mouth around him, then hauls Stiles back to his feet and has him against the door of the jeep, “I can’t get enough,” he growls into Stiles’s neck and Stiles lets his head fall back against the car and notices the moon start to slide across the sun.
Gravity
Sometimes Stiles thinks there some kind of weird force pulling him towards Derek, because he hates the guy, he’s more than slightly terrifying, grumpy, grouchy, has a weird obsession with slamming Stiles into hard surface, yet for some reason Stiles can’t keep away from him.
Highway
Derek likes to drive, fast, put his foot to the floor and see the road get swallowed up under his car, it makes him feel free for once.
Unknown
There’s something about the way Derek’s eyes slide down to Stiles’s mouth sometimes, especially when he thinks Stiles’s isn’t watching, that makes Stiles not give a crap about the fact he has no idea what he’s doing and just take when he wants from Derek.
Lock
“Stiles lock the door,” Derek jumps from the window ledge and Stiles flicks the lock without thinking.
“We never lock the door,” he says and Derek’s thumbs slide across Stiles’s cheekbones.
“I’m planning on making you scream my name and I’d rather someone didn’t burst in thinking I was murdering you.”
Breathe
“Stiles, breathe, dammit,” Derek’s voice reaches Stiles and he gasps, heaving in a breath, lungs protesting as he chokes and Derek’s hand is a warm presence at his back, rubbing circles as Stiles tries to rid his body of his lungs, his hands clutching at Derek’s jacket, “I got you.”