A/N: So, I think this is what I want to put together with These Empty Spaces to enter for MTV's fanfiction contest. I really like the tone of it all, and I dunno, it feels like a good fit to me. I'm still just not sure though. As it tends to work out, the parts of my writing that I like best, are the ones that my readers don't. :P Ah, well.

Feedback would be supremely appreciated! Reviews are what I live for.

Staring at each other from across the small copse of trees, neither of them wants to be the one to make the first move.

It's impossible not to acknowledge each other, simply walk away and save themselves the trouble. Everyone else had just slowly peeled off in groups or pairs, leaving the two of them behind before they knew what was happening. They fidget, look anywhere except at each other, but in the end the silence is too deafening. Derek coughs awkwardly and jams his hands in his pockets when Stiles' head jerks up, attention caught by the sound. "What? Did you say something?"

Derek shakes his head and shuffles his feet, looking forlornly at his Camaro while Stiles lets out a quiet 'oh' in response before returning his attention to the ground. "It's- uh… it's late."

Stiles bobs his head at the statement before his eyes widen and he starts to flail. "Oh, right! You're probably all kinds of tired and here I am standing around like a jackass." He jerks his thumb towards his jeep parked in a clearing off to their side and purses his lips. "I'll just leave you… to sleep. And whatnot. Long day…." Derek keeps the same distance between them as he walks Stiles over to his car, feeling like he should say something, but not really knowing what exactly that was.

He and Stiles weren't friends, but they couldn't really just be called acquaintances either. He felt like he wanted to say colleagues, but that definitely wasn't it, even though the only time they really spent together was when they needed each other. Derek was surprised to find he kinda, maybe, sorta cared if the kid was okay, but that didn't mean he knew absolutely anything about the human. "You weren't." Derek's not sure why he says it, maybe just to fill the empty space, but when Stiles pauses in unlocking his door to shoot him a quizzical stare, Derek knows he has to elaborate. "You weren't… overstaying or whatever. I… don't sleep much these days." He shrugs his shoulders and taps an uneven beat on the hood of the jeep hoping Stiles would leave it at that, but he just wouldn't be Stiles if he did.

"I hate that." The boy whispers softly. He abandons the keys in the lock to lean his back against the door and look up at the night sky, taking a few seconds to gather the thunder of thoughts in his head before speaking again, something he rarely takes the effort to do. "You're just so tired and… and you feel so heavy. But sleep feels like- like this fever dream, like something you made up to get away from it all." Stiles licks his lips and hugs his arms close around his ribs, a breathy chuckle sounding almost hysterical when it punches out of his chest. "You almost convince yourself that it's cheating- passing out for a couple hours a day to get away from everything. Somehow it makes you feel guilty." He whispers the last part and when he catches Derek's gaze, forces a smirk, though it doesn't reach his eyes.

"You shouldn't-" Derek frowns and huffs in frustration, forcing back the sudden, creeping sadness that spikes in his heart. "No one should know what that's like."

Stiles just shrugs again, kicking at the dirt and leaves. "Gotten used to it." He snuffs, yanking harshly at his nose a few times before swallowing thickly. "Sometimes I think it wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't alone." He knows what that sounds like and immediately freezes up, can feel his ears burning, and knows that he's turning an impressive shade of red. He's about to stammer an apology and steal away inside his car, but when he looks up Derek's taking jerking steps forward, stopping just in front of him.

"Me too." They stare at each other for a few tense moments, palms sweaty, skin itching, holding their breath, before Derek moves again. Stiles watches with more than a mild interest as the alpha heads to the back of the jeep, drops the hatch, and starts laying down the back set of seats. He does it all without saying anything, quick, efficient, nonchalant, before hopping up onto the newly vacated space with an inhuman grace. He disappears when he lays down and Stiles allows himself a mini-freakout before moving to follow him.

When he can see Derek again the other boy is laying on his back, hands folded over his stomach, leather jacket bunched up beneath his head. He acts completely innocent, like this is something he does every day and doesn't even bother looking Stiles' way when the boy scoffs loudly at him. It takes a while before Stiles climbs in beside him, cursing under his breath and mimicking Derek's position except with a ten dollar red hoodie instead of a designer jacket. "You're weird, you know that?"

Derek snorts and rolls his eyes, but keeps from punching Stiles in the shoulder. "You're worse."

Stiles squirms next to him trying to get comfy, and makes a truly excessive amount of noise taking off his shoes before rolling over onto his side and whining directly into Derek's ear, "It's cooold." Derek sucks at his teeth and thinks that this just might have been the worst idea he's ever had, and if not, well it still ranks pretty high. He rolls to face Stiles and draws in a sharp, uncomfortable breath when he realizes how close they are.

The tips of their noses nearly touch and Derek can see Stiles' eyelids flutter when he releases his breath and it ghosts across the teen's face. "Go to sleep." His voice breaks even though he kept it soft, but he takes comfort in knowing that Stiles is just as nervous as he is. He can hear the way Stiles' heart is beating a jack rabbit's pace, can see the way he's only just holding back a flood of psychobabble, can practically taste the tension between them. He closes his eyes, hoping the other boy will follow suit and focuses on breathing slow and deep.

He's not sure how long it is before he feels Stiles' forehead sag onto his chest, but he's too far gone to register what the soft bump and light pressure means. Derek's swimming in that cottoned space between wakefulness and sleep for what feels like forever, but eventually that begins to fade, darkness starting to haze at the edges, and for once he doesn't run from it.

For the first time in a long time, they sleep.