It's no surprise really that things hadn't gone as planned when Stiles tried to shave his cat, Spock. Spring was turning into summer and Stiles had taken one look at his bushy cat and decided to give him a nice trim to spare him the awfulness of the summer heat. So really Spock should be thanking him. But instead Stiles had only gotten about 50% of Spock shaved before the grumpy feline decided he had had enough and scratched a long line of claw marks down Stiles's forearm before enacting his daring escape.
The ensuing chase around the apartment (complete with half-finished swear words on Stiles's part and the sound of his potted fern hitting the ground) had led to Spock's half crazed dash out onto the balcony and up onto the ledge, before he decided to fling himself across the abyss and onto Stiles's next door neighbor's balcony.
Stiles had nearly had a heart attack seeing his half shaved cat soaring from one balcony to the next before darting inside his neighbor's apartment. In fact he's pretty sure his heart had skipped a few beats before speeding up to catch up with the delay. Clutching the pounding organ through his shirt, Stiles stood frozen for about 4 seconds before what had just happened caught up with him and he panicked, pacing the short length of his balcony in three long strides as he yelled at the sky and the gods and whoever else was listening to him for making everything go wrong.
Then of course being stiles, he just had to decide that the best course of action would be to follow Spock's insane flight trajectory and climb onto his neighbor's balcony himself. Which he managed without too many bruises. And that is how Stiles got here, standing in his neighbor's living room, holding a pissed off half shaved cat and staring horrified down the barrel of a gun.
A gun that was being held by none other than a naked, wet, god of a man. Well for the sake of clarity he had on a towel, a very skimpy towel, wrapped around his trim waist leaving all of his glorious muscles on display. Really Stiles would have been drooling if not for the gun.
"Wait! Don't shoot" screamed Stiles half expecting to feel a bullet ripping through his body at any second. "I'm your neighbor! Sorry! My cat escaped and I was just trying to make his life nicer by shaving off some of his excess fur which you think Spock would be ok with but instead he freaked out and went all supercat and leapt from my balcony to yours and I needed to get him before he tore the place apart and I—" Stiles knew he was babbling, but he also couldn't stop himself. Luckily his neighbor just sighed at his rambling and clicked the safety on before lowering the gun to point at the floor.
"Spock?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow, effectively stopping Stiles's rant.
"Yeah… You know, Live Long and Prosper? Stiles said, shifting Spock to one side and throwing up a Vulcan salute. "Please tell me you know what Star Trek is?!"
The man's blank stare was enough of an answer.
"Aw dude you are missing out! I have got to rectify this situation. I'm Stiles by the way." Stiles had to shift Spock again to reach out a hand in greeting. Spock let out a low rumble to voice his displeasure at being manhandled.
"Derek Hale" the man replied staring at Stiles with a look of half amusement, half 'you're crazy' and shaking the pre-offered hand. His grip was strong and steady and it almost make Stiles melt into a puddle. A manly puddle. One full of dirt and alligators, and other manly things.
"Nice to meet you. Sorry about how it happened though…" Stiles trailed off, scratching his head sheepishly and then subtly trying to smooth out his crazy bedhead, which of course didn't work and was not at all subtle.
"Word to the wise, don't break into other peoples apartments. It's illegal." responded Derek
"Yeah my dad will kill me if he found out what happened. Are you on the force?" Stiles judged by the look of surprise that passed over Derek's face, he was at least partially correct. "My dad's the Sheriff back home. I recognize the gun."
"I work for the FBI."
"Awesome. Just like Mulder. Or are you more like Booth?" Derek rolled his eyes.
It was at that moment that Spock decided he had had enough and he tried to claw his way out of Stiles arms. "OW! Spock calm down! Ow Ow Ow." Stiles chanted as he tried to dislodge Spock's claws from his arm. "Alright we're going. Jeeze! Nice meeting you Derek!" He yelled as he bolted for the door and back into his own apartment, which he luckily kept unlocked after having locked himself out several times in a week. Releasing Spock he surveyed the damage to his arm as the half shaved cat darted away, most likely to hide on the top shelf of the closet like he usually did when pissed.
Stiles grabbed some bandaids and some neosporin and got to work. As he worked his thoughts turned to Derek Hale.
Derek Hale, Mystery man Extraordinaire, and the hottest guy in Stiles's apartment complex had moved in a few weeks ago and Stiles had only seen him once before this. He seemed to mostly keep to himself and worked weird hours as far as Stiles could tell. In fact it's a surprise he was even home now.
I guess him being FBI explains all that.
Plus Stiles had to admit to himself that finding out Derek Hale was an FBI agent made him all the hotter in Stiles' book. Flopping back on the sofa, Stiles covered his eyes with his arm. Of course I have to have the biggest crush on a man that is so far out of my league I can barely see him in the distance!
Well first and foremost Stiles was going to have to find some way to apologize for ruining the man's shower time. Not that he was complaining. But it would be the polite thing to do.
So two days later Stiles left a six pack of beer and the first season of Star Trek the original series outside Derek Hale's door with a note that read 'Get educated you heathen. Also apologies for breaking into your apartment.'
A couple of weeks passed after that before Stile ran into Derek again when they both came home at the same time and ended up climbing the 3 flights of stairs together. Stiles asked if he had finished the 1st season of Star Trek and what he thought to which Derek replied that he only made it through the first three episodes because the special effects are atrocious and the acting was painful to watch.
Stiles, of course took great offense and that lead to a rather heated argument in the hall before Stiles told Derek Hale, while poking him in the middle of his gloriously muscular chest, that he was watching them wrong and Stiles would be coming over on Friday night to show him how to properly appreciate this cult classic. Derek ends up order pizza for the both of them and Stiles tells himself It's not a date.
After that Friday movie nights become a thing, usually its Star Trek related but every once in a while Derek manages to convince Stiles to watch something else. They do this on and off for the next couple weeks whenever Derek isn't working. Stiles schedule is flexible since he works on his own time writing code for websites. Stiles has to keep telling himself they aren't dates.
Till one night when they are watching Star Trek midway into season five and Derek, instead of focusing on the screen, is watching Stiles excitedly explain random filming details, hands flailing as he gets more and more into his explanation. Derek leans forward and silences him with a kiss. And then another. And Stiles doesn't know what to do with his hands but they find their way, curling into Derek's hair and fisting in the back of his black t-shirt. Stiles moaning into his mouth as one of Derek's hands tilts his chin up for a better fit. It's the best first kiss Stiles could have ever asked for.
After that nothing really changes. Derek still works odd hours and Stiles codes and sleeps while he's away, but when Derek's home, the both of them are together, whether it's curled up on Stiles' sofa or in Derek's bed. By now Spock pretty much has his run of both their apartments and Derek buys him a food bowl for his apartment so Stiles doesn't have to go home to feed him. It's all very domestic and Stiles is as happy as could be and he's pretty sure Derek is too if his quiet smiles are anything to go by.
That's not to say there aren't challenges, for instance Derek is an outright bear in the mornings before he is fully awake, all grumbles and growls and the cutest angry face Stiles has ever seen. And of course Stiles keeps the weirdest hours which don't always match up with FBI schedules. And sometimes Derek is gone for long periods of time across the country to save the world. (I'm not a Superhero Stiles. Derek would sigh with exasperation every time Stiles phrased it that way, You are too SourWolf. Just admit you like saving the world)
Then one day it all goes to hell, like all good things usually do. Stiles was on the sofa clicking away at his laptop while Derek rummaged around the kitchen making them a late brunch as their morning escapades had gone from the bedroom to the shower and then to the wall in the hallway. Until Stiles's stomach had let out an angry growl causing Derek to smirk and tell him that they should feed the beast. It was a peaceful sunny morning and Stiles set his laptop off to the side and stood up to stretch, arms high above his head and up on his tiptoes until his back and shoulders cracked with a satisfying pop. He let out the breath he had been holding and turned from the sunlight streaming in through the glass doors to the balcony to smile at his boyfriend.
Then Stiles heard a curious popping sound, then the tinkle of glass shattering. Something hit his left shoulder, pushing him forward slightly before his whole world erupted into blinding pain. He grabbed his shoulder as his knees gave out and he fell to the floor. Shocked, he raise his right hand and saw it coated in the blood that was currently running from the bullet hole through his shoulder.
Distantly he heard Derek shout his name, but he was distracted by the pain and the blood. It was a much darker color than he had anticipated. And warm. Which shouldn't be a surprise he thought distantly, since the human body rests at 98.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Blood looked brighter in the movies, more garish. Even so it was vitally important that it stay in his body. Stiles forced himself back to the present, crying out as the pain returned full force and everything that had previously been in slow motion raced forward to make up for the lost time.
Stiles cried out again as someone grabbed him around the waist and dragged him behind the sofa he had been sitting on only a few minutes ago. It was Derek, gun in one hand pointed away from them, Stiles's face cradled in the other. Stiles belatedly realized that the sound he was hearing were gunshots coming in through the window.
"Stiles! Stiles, Can you hear me? Say something Stiles. Stay with me. Stiles!" Derek was calling his name over and over rubbing a thumb up and down Stiles's cheek to draw his attention. "Come on Stiles. You're scaring me. You've never been quiet for this long."
Stiles let out a choked laugh "And you never talk this much, Sourwolf."
"Oh thank god." Derek exhaled deeply. "Ok I know this is going to hurt but we have to stop the bleeding, OK?"
"Yeah, Ok. Do what you do, Superman."
Derek searched Stiles's eyes, for what he didn't know but eventually he nodded once and pulled Stiles' hand from his shoulder before pressing the towel he had been holding in the kitchen against the wound. Stile had to bite back a cry and he squeezed his eye shut at the pain before everything seemed to stabilize and he was able to opened them once more.
"Hold this here, Stiles. Tight. and don't let up. I'll be right back"
"Where are you going?!" Stiles voice was much higher pitched and laced with panic now.
"I'll be right back, ok? I have to call for some back up. And I left my phone on the counter. I'll be fine. You just stay here and keep pressure on that." Derek held the side of Stiles' face as he calmly spoke, before drawing back into a crouch, gun held up and near his chest, ready for use.
He looked at Stiles once more, gesturing for him to stay silent before Derek launched himself around the edge of the sofa and towards the kitchen. His move was met with several other gunshots. Which Derek returned as he slide around the corner of the counter.
That's where Stile lost sight of him and he had to stifle the rising panic in his chest. Derek is fine, Derek is a Superhero, He'll be fine. Stiles chanted to himself to stave off the pain and keep the panic in check. His eyes slide shut as he continued his mantra, trying to keep his breathing in rhythm to keep the panic attack he knows he's going to have to deal with eventually, at bay.
His eyes fly open once more as someone grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him. It's Derek again this time the panic in his eyes is almost blinding. "Don't go to sleep Stiles! You hear me? You need to stay awake."
"mmkay" Stiles mumbles, arm sliding lower as the heaviness in his limbs grows. Derek grabs the slipping towel from his grasp and presses it hard into Stiles's shoulder once more. The move causes Stiles to shift into full wakefulness as the pain rushes back and he lets out a low cry.
"Sorry, Stiles. Sorry. But we have to keep pressure. Help is on it's way. You can sleep soon, I promise but stay awake with me, OK?"
Stiles forced his head to wobble in a close approximation of a nod before letting it fall against the back of the sofa. "Yo—Ok?" He managed to slur quietly.
"I'm fine. We're fine. Just a little longer."
"Bet-er call Bones. Two to Beam- up to med...bay…"
Derek let out a soft chuckle at that. The pressure he was keeping on Stiles's should brought him up to press snugly against Stiles's side warming his cold limbs and bringing his face close to Stiles's.
"Nerd." Derek whispered against Stiles's lips as he pressed a soft kiss there. He pulled back slightly. "They're almost here Stiles. Can you hear the sirens?"
Stiles realized as he listened for the sirens that he hadn't heard any gunshots for a while either. Sighing with relief his eyes slid shut against his will and his body softened into Derek's even as he hear Derek frantically calling his name. He sank into the inky darkness that had been creeping along the edge of his vision for a while now. And everything was silent.
When Stiles awoke it was to blurred vision and confusion. There was a low thudding noise in his ears that he subconsciously recognized as his heartbeat. Blinking twice, his vision cleared and he realized he was lying on his back on abed. 'That's not my ceiling.'
Shifting to look around, Stiles gasped loudly as pain spiderwebbed out from his shoulder and down his arms and torso. He closed his eyes and grimaced, one hand gripping his shoulder and the other fisting in the blankets in his lap.
"Stop moving you idiot."
The voice was female and not one he recognized. As the pain dulled once more he opened his eyes glancing to the source of the voice. There were two figures sitting in chairs next to his bed, one female, wearing all black and sprawled haphazardly, and the other male.
"Erica, Don't be rude. Not everyone likes getting shot as much as you do." said the male, he turned to Stiles. "The nurse will be here in a minute to up your meds."
"Thanks" Stiles voice was deep and gravelly with sleep. "Who are you?"
"Oh sorry. I'm Scott, and this is Erica. We work with Hale." Answered Scott with a grin as he handed Stiles a cup of water with a straw in it.
"FBI?" Questioned Stiles before taking a sip.
"The Best and the Brightest" Erica chimed in without looking up from her nails. "Well some of us." She shot a pointed look at Scott, who shot her grin in return.
"Come on Reyes. You're just jealous of my big brain."
Erica huffed a short laugh before rolling her eyes and turning back to her nails.
"Where's Derek?" Asked Stiles, worried about what the answer would be.
"Oh we kicked him out. Sent him home to sleep and eat, since he wasn't doing either here." Scott nodded along as Erica spoke, before chiming in. "He was really worried"
Stiles gave a lopsided smile at the thought of his Sourwolf worrying. Silence fell as a nurse came in and asked Stiles some questions before upping his pain meds and leaving. Stiles finally relaxed as the pain in his shoulder slowly dripped away and the edges of his vision took on a fuzzy pleasant tinge.
"Not to ruin the mood we've got going right now but I think I'm going to fall asleep again." Stiles's eyes were already growing heavy.
"Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty" Erica's voice sounded farther and farther away as Stiles drifted off again. He didn't even have the will to grumble at the nickname.
When he woke up the next time the room was dark except for the light coming in from the hall. He shifted experimentally and was pleased to only feel a twinge of pain coming from his shoulder. He grinned to himself before shifting his attention to the other side of the bed.
Derek was sitting in the chair that Erica had been occupying the last time Stile woke, his head pillowed on his arms resting on the edge of the bed. His breath was even in sleep and Stiles smiled at the sight of his big tough, FBI boyfriend sleeping on his bed like a child. He gently reached a hand down and carded his fingers through Derek's hair.
"Stiles?" Derek raised his head and blinked blearily his way.
"Hey Sourwolf. Miss me?" Stiles teased.
Derek sat up and Stiles hand fell back to the blankets, as Derek cupped his face in his hands.
"How do you feel?"
"Well that phaser was definitely not set to stun." Stiles joked quietly, as he was rewarded with a soft smile from Derek.
Then Derek's smile fell and his face was serious once more. "We caught the shooter. It was a man from one of our previous cases. He wanted revenge because we shut down his drug ring."
Derek let his hand drop as stared at Stiles shoulder. "It's my fault you got hurt."
"Hey" Stile drew Derek's eyes back to his face with a gentle hand. "You're the only reason I'm still here. It's not your fault some psycho tried to shoot me full of holes. Just don't let it happen again." Stiles teased.
"It won't" Derek's face promised death to anyone who would try.
"Good. Because getting shot isn't all fun and games like the movies."
Derek's face softened once more and he rolled his eyes. "Only you would think getting shot at would be fun."
"Vin Diesel makes it look so painless."
"I don't think Vin Diesel has ever actually been shot."
"Awesome. I'm officially more badass than Vin Diesel. I need that on a shirt."
"Stiles." Derek rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, before leaning down and silencing him with a kiss.
And well Stiles sure wasn't going to complain about that turn of events.