Derek loved silence. He loved the forest at night, when the noise and the activity of the day had died down and even his keen wolf ears couldn't detect movement in the shadows of the trees. He loved the empty quiet that filled the loft when Scott and his pack had bustled out after another meeting. He loved the ruins of his family's house, a place where no one ever went and where he could sit and brood in peace, taking refuge in the undisturbed solitude. He loved loneliness, too.
He couldn't imagine leading a life like Scott's, right in the middle of everything, almost like a normal teenager. For Derek, normal lives were always too fast, too loud, too unstable. He had always felt this way. And since Laura's death, since there really was no one left but him, there was nothing to keep him from his life in seclusion.
But there were some nights, some quiet moments when he longed for a different kind of silence, another type of loneliness. In those nights, he lay awake burning with the memory of a soft voice, a tender touch. In those nights, he wished Stiles lay there next to him, Stiles who saw beyond the surface of things, Stiles who paid attention, Stiles who understood.
In those nights, he wept.
But there were also these nights. They were rare enough, but they were there. Silent nights. Peaceful nights. Sheltered nights. Nights when Stiles was there.
Nights like this one.
Derek looked down upon the face of his sleeping companion, slightly flushed because of the heat the two bodies gave off. He still couldn't believe this was real, that their love existed. After Kate Argent he had thought he could never love again, only to fall for Jennifer and be hurt anew. And then Stiles had come along.
He had come with his ready mind and his attentive eyes and his experience, his understanding of what it felt like to lose a family member, that had completely overwhelmed the werewolf's heart once more. And he had fixed what Derek had thought to be beyond repair, had gathered the shards of a broken heart and glued them together with the power of his love. And in some nights at least, Derek could forget the pain of long gone days.
Yet as he lay there, he couldn't help but wonder how and when Stiles would forsake him. Because he would; there was no doubt about that. Everyone forsook Derek eventually. It was just a matter of time.
In his mind, Derek probed the damaged, fragile thing inside his chest. Stiles's love was all that was holding it together. It would definitely not survive another breaking.
But if he distanced himself from Stiles now, the boy would be hurt, and his heart had been broken far too often as well. So Derek stayed and enjoyed the happy nights he had while waiting for the inevitable to come.
Stiles stirred and opened his eyes. He smiled when he saw Derek watching him, but frowned as he saw the expression on the older man's face.
"What is it?" he asked quietly, putting a hand to his lover's cheek. Derek shook his head and looked away. "It's nothing."
Stiles narrowed his eyes. "You're not brooding over our relationship again, are you?" he said sternly. He lifted a hand and ran it over Derek's forehead, smoothing out the worry lines on the werewolf's face. "Listen, I know many people have let you down in the past," he said softly. "But that doesn't mean everyone will." He looked into Derek's eyes, one hand still resting on his cheek. "It's okay to need someone to hold on to every once in a while. Even for a tough guy like you."
Derek smiled sadly. "Every time I fall in love, people get hurt. Not just me. Others too."
"So you're saying I'm like Kate Argent?" Stiles said, raising his eyebrows. "You think I'll set fire to Scott and Liam? Or kill Kira as a sacrifice, maybe?"
"Stiles – of course not," Derek said, slightly hurt at the suggestion. "It's just… I don't know," he admitted with a sigh.
"Alright," Stiles said, rolling over onto his stomach and propping himself up on his elbows so he could look down on his lover. "So maybe you don't need me. Okay. I get that. Scott and Malia already showed me that I'm just dead weight for werewolf superheroes like you guys. But you know what? All my friends happen to be werewolf superheroes and I need you! You spend all your time protecting the humans in this town, but I'm human too, remember? How about you protect me for a change? Because I do need someone to hold on to." He looked at Derek silently for a moment, then buried his face in the pillow.
Derek stared at him speechlessly as a wave of guilt rushed over him. He often forgot what life must be like for Stiles, the only human in a pack of wolves, kitsunes and banshees. He remembered how defenceless he had felt when his wolf powers had been taken from him. Stiles must feel like that all the time, and yet he frequently put himself into danger to protect his friends and his father… from threats that wouldn't even be there if not for Derek. If he hadn't fallen in love with Kate Argent, she wouldn't have set fire to his house. If she hadn't burned his family alive, Peter wouldn't have become a power-hungry alpha. If there hadn't been a murdering alpha, Scott would never have been turned, and Stiles and his friends would have had a nice, normal life without werewolves and kanimas and darachs and everything else that made Stiles's life as miserable as it was.
Derek buried his face in his hands. Stiles had stood by Scott when he had turned into a werewolf. He had remained loyal to his friend during his development from a confused omega to a powerful alpha. He had done everything for Scott.
And here was Derek, doubting that boy's faithfulness for no reason at all except for the betrayal of a few ex-girlfriends.
He put a hand on his lover's back. "Stiles," he said softly.
Stiles didn't respond.
"Stiles." Derek began to stroke the boy tenderly, running his hand along his spine and through his hair. "Stiles," he whispered again, his lips brushing his lover's ear. He could hear the boy's heartbeat accelerate as he finally turned his head.
"I'm sorry," Derek murmured. Stiles just looked at him. Derek kissed him gently on the lips and heard the boy's heart stumble.
"Not doubting me anymore?" Stiles asked quietly.
"I will never doubt you," Derek replied earnestly. Then he added, "Although your heart beats faster every time you talk to me. That suggests you're lying a lot."
If Stiles hadn't known him so well, he would have missed the amusement in Derek's eyes. But he did, and now his lips twitched as well.
"Depends on how you define lying," he said, placing once hand on either side of Derek's head and giving him a long kiss.
Derek leaned his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes. "Stiles, I love you," he mumbled, moving a little closer to Stiles as the boy put his head back on the pillow as well. He felt a warm hand on his cheek and a thumb caressing his face soothingly.
"I know," Stiles whispered. "I love you too." And they fell silent.
Derek loved silence.
