A/N: I didn't even know whether or not I wanted to post this, because it's so tiny and kinda pointless, but I kinda love it. So, I figured why not? I like short fics- they're that little indulgence that you need in your life. ^^
Anyways, this is based off of Metric's Collect Call. Please take a listen as it helps to give understanding to the way I picture Stiles in this ficlet.
The way he moves is nothing short of breathtaking.
The second the music starts it's as though he becomes an entirely different person- the melody possessing his body and making it move with an eerie rhythm. Gone is the awkward boy that constantly flails and stumbles over himself. In his place is a creature that embodies grace.
He isn't like any of the other dancers there- an intense power thrumming just beneath their muscles, surfacing in the fierceness of a jump or throw. His moves are lazy, as slow and sweet as the honey his amber eyes bring to mind. He seems to simply melt from one position from the next, always moving, a molten entity that is only barely contained within this human form.
His entire being is focused on his dance, the one time he is truly peaceful, his mind at rest. It can be seen in the set of his face, the clarity in his eyes. When he moves everything else is forgotten, he is transformed. He isn't a boy with too much on his shoulders, too little support, too few moments of contentment.
He is a dancer. He is intent. He is expression. He is emotion. He is finally beautiful.
It is because of this metamorphosis, because of the way he leaves reality behind for those all too brief moments, that Derek can see him as he truly is. As he was always meant to be. Derek stands, enraptured, outside the studio every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to watch Stiles the human disappear and become something entirely different.
It's been a month and the boy hasn't yet noticed that he lurks outside, in awe of what no one else besides him knows. That three times a week when Stiles is meant to be locked away in SAT prep, he instead drives an hour out of town to this brick dance academy, laces up delicate black ballet flats, and loses himself to the world.
At first Derek had been thrilled, thinking he had new fodder to get under the snarky teen's skin, but when Stiles had begun to twirl, arch, stretch into forms he'd never before seen, all thoughts of malice had been blown away- forever lost to the wind. With a bit of prying and a minimum of illegal activities he had found out that Stiles mother used to be a ballet dancer, and with that, his heart had sunk. With that, Derek had known this would be a secret he'd keep forever.
It eats him alive not to be able to share with the world the knowledge that itches beneath his skin. Every time Stiles is put down, every time he loses faith in himself, Derek wants to scream from the rooftops that there is not a being on this Earth that could match his grace.
But at the same time, he cannot believe that this ephemeral entity is his and his alone. He is its protector, its one and only sentinel.
The job goes unacknowledged, his giving left with no gratitude, but he finds this is enough. Just having the privilege to see Stiles in the throes of passion, lost within himself… it is enough.
