Nicknames

The first time Derek heard someone call Stiles by the name "Bilinsky," he wouldn't let it go. It's become almost like a pet name. After a game they won that night Stiles finally gets to see Derek when he arrives home. He throws his gear at the foot of the bed before he hears his reserved, smooth voice from the shadows.

"You did good, Bilinsky." Stiles knows what to expect, but he never reacts as smoothly. Flinging his hands into the air, Stiles yelps as he stumbles back. Derek only grins as he steps forward, hands in his pockets.

"Dammit Derek," Stiles says, recuperating from his scare. A moment of gentle silence passed before he spoke again. "You saw the game?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course I did. I wouldn't miss it," he charms as Stiles sits on the bed. Derek places himself in front of him, reaching to hold his hand. "When I wasn't making sure Scott was stable, all my attention was on Bilinsky."

Stiles chuckled as he shook his head, looking up at Derek as he swung their linked hands. "You still call me that," he stated to himself.

"Well I could think of a couple other things I could call you, but some probably wouldn't be appropriate in public," he qualified as he smoothly descended upon Stiles, caressing his shoulder and neck before kissing him.

"Oh yeah?" Stiles asked absently between kisses, his eyes remaining closed like in a stupor.

"Yeah," Derek replied, "like sexy…sex gopher."

Stiles immediately chocked with laughter.

"I'm not the best with words," Derek quickly said. "I prefer to speak using my actions." He then graced his hand near the hem of Stiles' shirt and slipped his hand under his shirt. He rubbed his palm from his chest down to his lower stomach and back, pushing Stiles to lay down on the bed. He placed a second hand on Stiles' body as he began to straddle his body, kissing him around his neck and jaw.

Stiles emitted a constant, low hum of pleasure. "You could call me whatever and I wouldn't care. Just touch me like this," Stiles whispered after a long while.

Eventually they turned in for the night. Derek held him in his arms, intermittently rubbing patterns over his chest. In the morning when Derek awoke he continued where he left off. The sensual touch woke Stiles up eventually.

"Good morning, man," Stiles murmured as he turned to lay on his back, looking to his side at Derek.

"Good morning, Bilinsky." He grinned wide as he watched Stiles' reaction.

"I should come up with something for you," he teased before Derek pecked him on the cheek.

"It's hard for me to imagine anything you could call me that would upset me," he confided.

"Pup," Stiles said flatly after a short while.

"…Pup?"

"Yes, you're my pup."

Derek had stopped moving his free hand across Stiles' chest at this point. He considered the name for a short while before speaking. "It's cute…but you tell no one."

Keeping The Pain Away

Stiles opened the door slowly before walking into his dim bedroom. He had just helped his father into his own room. He still felt a combination of guilt for getting his father powerfully drunk and sadness pool in his gut. His mind was not focused on the police case, but on his mother's death. The days her memory comes to him are few and far between, but those days hit him like a sack of bricks, strong and vivid.

He proceeded to lay on his bed, still clothed, when Derek tapped on his window. Normally Stiles would have jerked in scared surprise, but he didn't react. He didn't even say a word. A moment of silence passed before Derek lifted the window open himself and walked over to Stiles. Derek smiled at him fondly when he saw him stare up at him. He quickly sensed his mood however, and frowned

"You're laying here in the dark, why?"

Stiles sighed and slowly propped himself up after a moment of waiting, having been warmed by Derek's concern. "I'm thinking about my mom," he muttered, staring across the room.

Derek sat on the bed next to him before speaking. "The one that died?" he inquired.

"No, the one that swings by every other week with a freshly baked pie." His sarcastic remark did not reflect his countenance, still sullen and distant.

Derek appeared confused before hanging his head in embarrassment, huffing with a laugh. "Right, that was bad of me. I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Stiles said as he finally looked at Derek, smirking as he patted his arm. "I don't talk about it ever."

Derek continued to stare at him, as if he was trying to decode Stiles without risking saying anything else foolish. Stiles glanced back at him a few times before continuing to speak. "I got my Dad drunk, to get more information out of him about his case, and along with all that he told me he missed my mom."

He sat there quietly as Derek moved closer to him, propping his body next to Stiles. "I'm really sorry. Can I do anything for you?" he asked quietly.

"Maybe just lay here with me?" he posed, moments before he and Derek simultaneously began to lay down on the bed.

"Of course," Derek replied. After the two got comfortable, Derek holding Stiles lightly in his arms, they began to slowly get undressed, intermittently taking off shoes and articles of clothing. By the time they were down to their boxers, Derek was very drowsy. He almost fell asleep when Stiles turned over on his back and spoke.

"Thank you," he began with a whisper. "I'm always alone when the memories come to me the strongest, and it hurts." He leaned his head over to gently kiss Derek on the lips.

Derek listened to Stiles speak before opening his eyes; they fluttered open like small weights were holding them down.

Derek murmured something final to Stiles before closing his eyes, finally falling into a warm slumber.

"I'll do anything to make the pain go away for you."

Rainy day

Stiles awoke that Saturday morning to the sound of fat rain droplets pounding against his windowpane. The room was dark like evening, grey light dancing across the wall adjacent to his bed as the shadows of rain appeared and fell. The sounds of the patter pounded against his room in waves, growing and receding in intensity. He lay there for a long while. His bare body radiated he from under his covers and his bed was an pool of warmth.

He tugged the sheets off his chest as he heard a surprise rap on his window. He jolted up from shock before he saw Derek raise the window and scramble into his room. The man was soaked from the deluge outside, his clothes wet and tight against his body. Mud was still damp and dripping from the jeans he wore as he walked across the room, looking around. He breathed heavily as he spoke.

"Do you have a towel in here or…in the bathroom," he asked as he looked towards Stiles, stalled for a moment to see him in his bed, unclothed.

Stiles flinched from getting out of his bed before he spoke, remembering he was wearing only boxer shorts. He bunched his sheets over his waist as he sat upright. "Derek why were you out there?"

"I was trying to figure out the case some more. I was far off when the rain came so…I came back here. I'll be back in a moment," he muttered, veiling his embarrassment. He stood by the door for a moment, listening intently, before quickly slipping through and closing it behind him.

Stiles pondered the situation. His room was his haven, his place to go when he wanted comfort and shelter. The thought sent him into a daze of sorts. His growling stomach distracted him from the thoughts. Stiles decided to pulled on a pair of athletic shorts before Derek returned. He became anxious as he noticed a minute pass by and he still hadn't returned.

He reach for a shirt on his computer chair as Derek came back. His pant legs were cleaner, not dripping with mud, and he had a towel across his neck. He also walked in with a box of crackers.

"You're hungry," Derek stated plainly as he handed the box to Stiles. He quickly glanced as Stiles' form before backing away to sit on his bed.

Stiles looked at the box with affection. "Thank you, I guess I am." He didn't mention how Derek was going to get his bed wet from sitting on it, but he was okay with it, as long as the man stayed.

Derek continued to dry his hair and body with the towel as Stiles sat next to him. Stiles opened the box as he spoke.

"So did you have any luck?" he prompted before eating the lightly salted crackers.

"No, just more problems. There's so much that doesn't make…sense," he hesitated, noticing Stiles holding a cracker out for him. He looked at his face to see a kind of innocence he himself hadn't known for a long time. It was refreshing.

He took the cracker from Stiles. "Cute," he said with a small grin.

"It's why you keep coming back," Stiles charmed.

"I can think of a few reason to come," Derek said right before leaning over to kiss Stiles on the lips.

The rain persisted for nearly the entire day, all the while the two of them spent in bed together, talking, kissing, and more. They shared heat and comfort, and they shared stories of the past. When crackers could not satisfy their hunger, Stiles walked downstairs to make them both sandwiches. Derek risked being spotted, but as Stiles was putting the fixings away, he surprised Stiles with a surprise kiss on the neck. Only one time did Stiles' father knock on the bedroom door and come in. It was a close call, but Derek hid before the Sheriff to check on Stiles. By the time the rain let up the sun was close to setting.

On the roof of Stiles' house the two of them sat, leaning into each other, looking over the town at the dying day. Towels lay under them to absorb any residue wetness, but they still felt it. It didn't matter, none of their problems with the case mattered.

"I wish I could spend more days like this," Derek muttered, breaching the silence.

"We could," Stiles offered, but there was a hint of reservation. One that did not go unnoticed.

"But we can't. There's so much going wrong right now," he said, frustrated at his own reality.

Stiles hung his head in defeat for a moment. "Even if the bad stuff outweighs the good, there's still good," Stiles said tentatively. He raised his head and looked beyond the horizon. "See it for all it's worth, and never let it go."

He then felt an arm wrap around his waist. Surprised, Stiles looked at Derek, who was gazing intently at him. "Always." It was all he said, but there was nothing more to say. Stiles rested a kiss on Derek's lips that was as light as a feather, but the power of it was dizzying once Derek pressed harder.

After breaking apart they noticed the fiery hues of the sun begin to sink below the woods. The sky was blurry with clouds, but the light was intense enough to illuminate them all.

"It's so beautiful," Stiles whispered, squeezing Derek tight, the ecstasy of the moment unreal to him.

"I can think of someone that is more beautiful."

Stiles looked at Derek before chuckling. They bother began to laugh.

"You're a dork."