Hey guys! So, I'm going to count one review as "good feedback" and continue this into a full story! Woohoo! PLEASE leave reviews and let me know what you think! I have ideas for the next chapter, where thing will start heating up and I'm not sure if I should continue Derek's POV or write from Stiles' POV for awhile. Let me know what you think, I'm really excited about this!

Obviously I don't own Teen Wolf or the Characters. Just the plot. Gotta love those creators though!

XOXO - Ryan

Chapter 2

I felt the sunlight beaming in on my face before I saw. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light, glancing around the room I was in. Seeing the blue walls of Stiles' bedroom brought the events of the night before rushing back to me and I felt flutters in my stomach, I turned my head to look towards Stiles' side of the bed and my breath caught in my throat when I saw him. He had curled up against me, one arm wrapped protectively around my bicep and the other arm was laying palm-down on my chest. His whole body was squished up to the side of mine and his cheek was pressed against the skin of my arm. For a moment I felt bad that I apparently hadn't moved since we fell asleep, cuddled him back or something, but then I looked closely at his face. He looked like he was deep in sleep, calm and serene. I felt a pang in my heart at the tender expression on his face. Seeing how deeply he was out, I knew that even if I had cuddled back he wouldn't have noticed.

I glanced over at the clock beside his bed, reading 5:02. I knew that I still had at least an hour and a half before his alarm went off, and maybe two before his dad would come in to check on him before he went to work. At the realization of having all of this time, an idea sprouted in my head. I carefully turned my body, sure to place a hand behind Stiles' head so it didn't fall back too suddenly and wake him. I gently disentangled his arm from mine, handling every movement gingerly so as not to wake him. God knows he needed all of the sleep that he could get. Once he was totally separated from my body, I slid an arm under my pillow, curling it under my head and I softly moved closer so that way Stiles mere inches from my chest. Carefully, I laid my arm around him, putting the pressure down gradually until I had my arm draped securely around his waist. I considered continuing, pulling him into my chest maybe, but I didn't. Partially because I didn't want to risk waking him up, but partially because I didn't want to force it. If Stiles cuddled up to me, that was one thing. But pulling Stiles into it felt wrong. I felt like I was forcing something on him selfishly rather than doing something to help, so I laid there and watched his chest rise and fall with the deep steady breaths of sleep. It made me antsy not to give in to my urge to pull him closer to me, but I resisted.

After a few minutes, maybe 10, Stiles stirred. I froze when I felt his body move and watched with squinted eyes, waiting for him to wake up and freak out, but he never did. He just moved his arms a bit, stretching before he bumped his hand into my stomach. The butterflies, which were becoming far too familiar, returned with vengeance. Upon feeling my frame though, Stiles unconsciously scooted closer, pressing his face against my chest and draping an arm around my waist. I smiled gratefully and tightened my grip on his waist, snuggling my face down into his short brown hair. It didn't take long for me to drift back into sleep.

I awoke suddenly to a knock at the door. Stiles jolted in my arms and he looked up at me with a look on his face that was somewhere between confusion, shock, and panic. I quickly pulled myself from Stiles' limbs and flashed to the closet like I had last night, barely squeezing into the gap behind the door before his bedroom door opened.

"Hey, Bud. Did I wake you up?" Sheriff Stilinski's voice was chipper as he greeted his son.

"Umm. Yeah, I was sleeping." Stiles answered, sounding groggy and confused.

"Good! Then I'm sorry I woke you, kid. Did you get much sleep after that nightmare last night?" The sheriff asked.

"Yeah, actually. I think I slept all the way through the night." Stiles has a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Great! Well hey, if you want to go back to sleep, then go for it. I'm just letting you know that I'm heading to the station for the day." Mr. Stilinski said.

"Okay, dad. See you later." Stiles said.

"Bye kiddo, love you." There was more sincerity in this statement than I expected to hear in a casual parting from Stiles' dad.

"Bye, dad. Love you too." Stiles responded plainly.

I waited until I heard the footsteps retreating down the stairs before I stepped out of the closet. Stiles was sitting up in bed, the comforter pooled around his legs and he was rubbing his eyes. I walked up slowly and sat on the edge of his bed, watching him. He snapped his head up when he felt the mattress sag where I had just sat and jumped a foot in the air when he saw me.

"You okay?" I asked tentatively.

Stiles just closed his eyes and let out a big breathe, clutching his chest. "You scared the hell out of me." I chuckled at that while he continued, "I was sure that last night was a dream. But I guess since nothing tried to kill me, it must have really happened."

"Mhmm. It did." Was my response. I was suddenly nervous, unsure of how he might react to what happened last night. He looked down at his hands with a calculating face for a long moment. Watching him, waiting to hear his reaction was agonizing. A part of me hoped desperately that he would look up and tell me that he liked it, that he wanted me here every night. That side, however, was warring with the pessimistic part of myself, screaming doubts and fears into my head, expecting him to look up at me with disgust on his face. I worked to keep my face neutral, allowing him to react however he would without interfering.

After what felt like decades, I saw his gaze shift, looking from his hands to mine before they traveled slowly up my arm and to my face. I gave him a small smile, encouraging him to say something. Literally anything. The uneven thumping of my heart in my chest was beginning to make me antsy and I was feeling the urge to either hide or run. After another excruciating moment of silence, Stiles spoke.

"Thank you," He started softly, "I really needed that. I didn't have any nightmares with you next to me." His face started to flame red and he dropped his eyes to his hands, his eyebrows pulling together and his jaw tightening.

"No problem." I said, internally punching myself for letting my hard mask slip back into place. I wished I would have given him a better response and I immediately began to rack my brain for ways to revise myself, "I didn't sleep too bad myself." I finally said, smirking at him.

He glanced up at me and broke into a smile. It was weak—A ghost of the giant goofy grin that used to be plastered to his face, but it was a relief to see regardless. I looked into his deep eyes, searching them for answers to the millions of questions that bounced in my head. Is he going to be okay? Can I help him? Is it possible that he could ever learn to love me? Will I survive it if he can't? Before I could get too lost in my thoughts, his expression turned serious and his eyes fell down to his hands again.

"Do you think—"He paused, and I waited for him to continue. When he didn't, I spoke.

"Do I think what?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral even though I was burning with curiosity to know what he'd ask of me. Of course he could have it. He could have anything that he wants, always.

He shook his head and a blush started to crawl up his neck. I thought of when I blushed last night. My head had been swimming with thoughts of how I could explain to Stiles why I was being so nice to him without admitting the truth. I wondered vaguely if it could be possibly be thinking the same thing. Of course he's not thinking the same thing, idiot. He isn't even gay, let alone gay for YOU! I berated myself internally, clenching my hand into a fist.

"You can ask me anything, Stiles. I know I'm a pain in the ass most of the time, but I swear, no judgment right now." I said desperately. I needed to know what he was thinking. I waited as patiently as I was able, having to bite down on my tongue to keep myself from begging while I waited for him to speak.

He cleared his throat and sighed before saying, "Do you think… that you could stay with me again tonight?" His voice was small, scared. I couldn't help the smile that crept over my lips while I responded, "Of course. I'd be happy to."

I saw him fight back a smile before he glanced up at me and thanked me again. This time, though, I noticed the gaunt, tired look to his face and decided that I could use my agreement to stay to my advantage.

"On one condition." I added seriously. His face twisted into worry before I finished, "You need to eat something."

He smiled again and nodded and it felt so good to see. I missed the giant toothy smile that I was used to, but I'd take this weak excuse of a smile over the agony that I saw on his face last night any day. Quickly, though, I remembered what he had said last night about eating and added, "And you need to keep it down."

His smile fell slightly and the worry was back in his eyes, but he nodded. I ignored the reaction, sure that I could get him to eat and keep it down whether he had some scheme working to dodge my request.

"Speaking of food, I guess it's time to get you breakfast, huh?" I asked lightly and chuckled at him when he gulped audibly. His eyes darted around the room, looking for an excuse, no doubt. A look of realization dawned on him when he looked at the clock.

"Hah! I can't eat breakfast, its 11 o'clock." This threw me. I looked over at the clock sharply, seeing the time illuminated in red digits. Sure enough, it read 11:13 AM. I turned back to him asking, "Wait, why aren't you in school? It's a Tuesday!"

He smiled, his lips turning up more easily this time, replying, "It's summer vacation, old man."

His statement hit me hard. Old man. He's only 17, you pervert. I told myself. I didn't mean for them to, but my eyebrows pulled together. I thought about how much was stacked against me, towering between Stiles and I. He was young—Too young. He wasn't old enough to be with me, even if he loved me like I loved him. He didn't love me, and he wasn't even the same orientation as I was. He was a human while I was a werewolf. He was (usually) happy, bouncy, and open while I was a "tough guy" with major emotional issues. The full weight of how forbidden my feelings for Stiles were was suddenly careening down over my shoulders and I felt my heart sink.

"Too old to remember summer vacation, grandpa?" He asked lightly, his usual sarcasm beginning to come back. Hearing this dug the dagger deeper and I just got up and crossed the room to his bedroom door.

"Get dressed. I'm taking you to lunch, then." I said gruffly. I could immediately feel the physicality of Stiles' reaction in the air. A mixture of surprise and pain. I had hurt him. I wanted so badly to punch my fist through the wall to release some of the frustration I felt at myself, but I resisted, partially so he didn't have to explain the giant hole to his dad, but more because I didn't want Stiles to think that it was because of him.

Before I could cause more damage, I opened the door and stepped out, closing the door behind me. I walked slowly down the staircase to his living room and sat gingerly on the couch, feeling awkward in Stiles' house. His room had felt natural because it was his, had HIM written all over it. But the rest of the house was only partially Stiles. The rest of the house felt like it belonged to Sheriff Stilinski, which was true, it did. I felt as awkward sitting on the couch as I would have sitting in the sheriff's bed, curling up on his pillows. I was uncomfortable, my hair standing on end as I waited for Stiles. I heard the shower start upstairs, sputtering into a loud heavy spray and I sighed, settling myself into the couch to wait, knowing it would be a while. While I waited, I let my mind wander, thinking about what I could possibly do about this situation that I had suddenly been thrust into. I couldn't have Stiles, that much was for sure. There was no way that he'd ever want me the way that I want him and even if Hell froze over and he did develop feelings for me, I couldn't take him like that. It would be illegal for one, but further than that, it'd be dangerous. He has no right to be as involved in my world as much as he is now. If he was with me, every time that someone had a target on my back, they'd put one on his too. He's too fragile and if one day I couldn't be there when he needed, I'd lose him. Worse, if I ever lost control around him, got too angry, I could hurt him. Maybe I could even kill him. That thought sent a chill up my spine and I shook my head to try to dislodge the image of his pale, greying skin from my mind.

At this moment, I heard a noise upstairs. There was a loud squeaking sound, followed by a yelp, surely from Stiles although the sound was strange, and then a loud thump as something heavy hit the ground, smaller thumps accompanying it. I got up from the couch and ran up the stairs to the bathroom door, but hesitated before I knocked. The bathroom was a private place and I felt intrusive for even knocking. However, the thought that Stiles might be hurt shook my nerves and I knocked loudly on the door, saying loudly, "Stiles? Are you alright?" I couldn't quite keep all of the worry from my voice, although I did my best to mask it.

I heard a whimper in response, but no actual words. Now I was really worried.

"Stiles?!" I said, almost shouting the words. All he managed to say in response was "Oww." Before I heard him gasp loudly and then make another strangled sound.

"Stiles, do you need help? I'm coming in." I waited briefly, listening for resistance. When I heard none, I turned the doorknob, pushing the door in slowly, peering my head around the door. I saw a mess in the tub, the shower curtain tangled around Stiles with the rod for the curtain laying across his chest, hanging out of the tub, dripping water onto the floor. I took the step and a half to the edge of the tub, reaching my hand down to Stiles, placing it on his arm while asking him if he's okay. He shook his head, tears springing to his eyes, gathering at the corners. I looked down his body, trying to find evidence of something causing him pain. When nothing was evident I asked, "What hurts?"

"My leg." Stiles said, his voice quivering. I shot my eyes down towards his legs again, seeing that the shower curtain was masking them. I softly pulled away the shower curtain near his feet and pulled it back until I saw his shin. I saw blood running down his shin to his feet, turning pink as it mixed with the shower water that was still raining down on Stiles. I could see a slight sliver of white protruding out of the gash in his leg. It was very obviously broken. I quickly reached my hand up and turned off the shower and looked back at Stiles' face. The tears were now running down his cheeks and his eyes were clenched shut. He was baring his teeth in pain. I reached behind me and found a towel hanging on the towel rack and set it on the ground beside me while I began to work on untangling the curtain from Stiles limbs, carefully moving it from beneath his other foot and moving it from his torso. I finally got the curtain disentangled from Stiles, revealing his naked body. I carefully trained my eyes on Stiles' face as I slipped a hand beneath his knees, moving slowly, grimacing when he cried out at the movement.

"Come on," I mumbled softly, "We need to get you to the hospital." I moved my hand to his shoulder, pulling him up carefully so I could slip my arm behind him. As carefully as I possibly could, I lifted him from the tub, keeping him close to my chest to make the movements as smooth as possible, minimizing any jolting. He moved both fists to his forehead and groaned as I stood, gritting his teeth together tightly. I gently tipped him so he was upright and he placed his uninjured foot and the ground, putting the pressure on it. His arms snaked around my neck again, relying on me for support heavily. As I reached for his towel, I made a special effort to make sure that I was averting my eyes, giving Stiles whatever privacy I could while simultaneously giving myself some semblance of a chance to resist getting aroused at the sight of his naked body. I wrapped the towel around his waist and tucked the corner into itself at his waist, securing it. Gently, I scooped my arm behind his knees and picked him up off the ground slowly. He grunted in pain when I moved him and I winced, hating that I was causing more pain but knowing that it was necessary. I hurried him to his room, keeping him held tightly to my chest as I moved. I set him on the edge of his bed and as soon as my arms were away from him, he slid down to his side, gripping the comforter while I hurried around his room, finding a tee-shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of boxers, some socks, a pair of tennis shoes, his phone, his wallet, and his keys and shoved them all into the backpack that was shoved beneath his bed. I swung one strap of the bag over my shoulder and moved back to Stiles.

"Come on, I've got clothes for you to put on at the hospital after they get a cast on you. I'm not about to try to get boxers over your leg as it is right now." Stiles shot me a desperate look before nodding. I moved forward and scooped him up off the bed and started down the stairs. He cried out at each step in a quivering voice. I moved as smoothly as I could as I jokingly said, "You can bite me if it'll help, you couldn't do me any damage if you tried." Chuckling as I said it.

Even though I said that jokingly, Stiles took advantage of it and bit his teeth down hard on my shoulder. "Aahrghh!" I growled. I could feel Stiles smile with my skin still in between his teeth. He slid his lips together slowly, trying to make sure that he pulled his mouth away without leaving a trail of saliva behind, but the way that his lips moved against my skin raised goosebumps all the way up my arm and down the back of my neck. My body felt like a live wire. I moved through the front door turning back towards the door telling Stiles to lock it. He looked at the door and released his death grip around my neck with one hand and reached around to lock the door and he pulled it closed. Once it was shut, I continued walking. When I passed his Jeep, he spoke up.

"Hey where are you taking me? My Jeep is right there." His voice was quivering and quiet.

"Your jeep is the bounciest car I've ever sat it. My Camaro will be a much smoother ride. Just don't bleed out on my seats." I threatened jokingly, remembering a similar threat that he'd made to me the day I asked him to cut my arm off and I laughed to myself.

Stiles just nodded as I continued walking swiftly down the block and around the corner, seeing my Camaro parked a half-block up. I set Stiles on his good foot near the passenger side door as he grunted. I pulled out my keys and unlocked the car, opening the door for him. He hopped forward once on his good foot and gasped in pain at the jolt that it sent through his body. I rushed up and caught him under his arms before he collapsed forward and lifted him off his feet. I moved my hand under his thighs and lifted him gently while he grabbed my shoulders to stabilize himself. I carefully maneuvered him into the car, softly lifting his legs in, setting them on the floor of the car. He winced and arched against the seat as his heel touched down onto the ground. Thinking quickly, I swung the backpack off my back and slid it under his knee to hold his foot off the ground and he thanked me breathlessly. I closed his door and flashed to my own, getting in carefully, so as not to jolt the car and started the engine. I clicked the car into drive and pulled away from the curb swiftly. I drove slowly, especially around corners as I headed towards the hospital. Stiles didn't say anything during the drive, he just held the center console with a white-knuckled grip and breathed deeply, gasping in and blowing the air out in a huff. When we pulled into the hospital, we had to go over a speed bump before I could pull him up to the front entrance. I eased the car down so it was going slower than an idle. I let my car crest the bump but I couldn't control the fact that it came down the far side of the bump with more force. Stiles yelped and grabbed his knee above his injury, his eyes flying wide. Without thinking, I shot my right hand out and placed it on his other knee.

"Hold on, I'm sorry." I mumbled while I moved the rear wheels over the bump, producing the same effect. A small sob burst out of Stiles chest as he clenched his jaw, baring his teeth like he did in the bathtub. I pulled the car into a parking spot quickly, thankful to find one right next to the emergency entrance. I shut the car off and flashed around to Stiles' side, opening the door swiftly.

"Here we go." I huffed as I kneeled beside him, placing my hands under his knees and shoulders. His arms hugged around my neck and I lifted him slowly off the seat. I stood and reached the arm that was under Stiles' shoulders down to grab the backpack, swinging it up to my shoulder before wrapping my arm around Stiles again.

When I walked into the ER, I was greeted by Scott's mom.

"Hi, Dere-oh goodness, Stiles!" She rushed out from behind the desk at the nurses station and jogged over to us.

"Stiles, sweetie. What happened?" She asked, looking up at me briefly to gesture with her chin for me to follow her before she turned her eyes back to Stiles, moving to my side so we could walk.

"I slipped in the shower and broke my leg." He said weakly. Melissa nodded and led me to a gurney, adjusting the back so it was more upright before I sat Stiles down on it. I placed his hips on the bed first, leaning him back so I could slide my hand out from his shoulders, holding his knees up. I then moved down to his legs, using my free hand to cross over the one holding his knees to support his ankles, easily able to hold them both in one of my large hands. I slowly straightened out his legs, resting them on the gurney. He whimpered as I did this, clenching his teeth again.

"Sorry, man." I said, stepping away from the gurney. Melissa stepped behind the gurney's frame, and wheeled Stiles down the hallway to an inevitable surgery and I returned to the waiting room.

When I sat down in one of the pale yellow chairs, I pulled Stiles' phone from his backpack. For a moment, I considered the invasion this would be to Stiles' privacy, but ultimately decided that it was more critical that Stiles' dad is informed. I opened up the contacts, scrolling through until I found and entry under DAD. I pressed talk and brought the phone to my ear.

"Hey, Stiles, what's going on?" The Sheriff was trying to sound casual but I could hear the hint of worry in his voice. I figured Stiles must not call his dad often during the day.

"Sorry Mr. stilinski, this is Derek Hale, actually." I replied.

"Oh, hi Derek. Is Stiles okay?" He asked.

"Well actually, I took Stiles to the hospital. You see, I went over to your house today at noon to see if Stiles might want to go get lunch. He said he needed to take a shower before we went and while I was waiting downstairs, I heard a thump. I went upstairs and Stiles had slipped in the shower. He ended up breaking his leg so I drove him to the ER." I explained, the white lies slipping easily off my tongue.

"Oh Jesus," Mr. stilinski replied in a huff, "I'll be down there soon. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's okay. Scott's mom met us at the doors and took him back. It looks like it might need surgery so he'll be gone in for awhile." I said cooly.

"Okay. I'll be there soon. Thanks, Derek."

"Absolutely. See you soon." I ended the call and slipped the phone back into Stiles backpack.

After about 20 minutes of waiting, the Sheriff came in the front doors, turning his head back and forth, scanning the waiting room and the nurses area. I was about to raise a hand to alert him to my position, but Melissa go his attention first. I zeroed in my listening on their conversation, trying to get some news on Stiles.

"Hey sheriff, he's fine. He's in surgery now. Should be wrapping up in about an hour. It was a compound fracture, but a clean break. It should heal fine in 6-8 weeks." Melissa said, answering all of the sheriffs unspoken questions. He nodded slowly in response and thanked her before he turned towards the waiting area. I stood, meeting him halfway across the small, nearly empty space.

"Hey, Derek, you didn't have to stay." Sheriff Stilinski said.

"It was no problem. Plus, I wanted to give you this," I handed him the backpack, "it's a change of clothes for Stiles along with his wallet, keys, and phone."

Stiles' dad looked truly grateful as he thanked me, letting me know that he had it from here. I nodded and left, walking back to my Camaro. I considered staying, waiting for Stiles to come out of surgery, but decided that I'd let his dad take care of him, remembering my promise to come back again tonight.

At 11 pm, I sat perched outside Stiles' window, listening to him talk to his dad.

"Here you go, comfy?" Sheriff Stilinski asked. There was no reply so I guessed that Stiles had nodded in response.

"There's water on your nightstand and your crutches are here beside your bed if you need to get up for anything. Good night kiddo." With that, the sheriff turned and left the room. I waited until the sheriff's bedroom door clicked closed before crawling through the window.

"Hey, you came back." Stiles said, surprise in his voice. Once I was all the way in with the window shut behind me, I turned to look at him. His face seemed to have more color in it and his eyes looked a little less sunken. His eyes were red with exhaustion though and he smiled at me goofily, eyes half-lidded.

"Pain med?" I guessed, watching as Stiles giggles in response before nodding, the motion a little too big. I smiled and dragged the desk chair over to his bed, settling in beside him.

"Try to get some sleep, goofball." I said, putting my hand on the bed face up for him to hold. He frowned at my hand and then up to me.

"No cuddling tonight?" He sounded genuinely sad. I laughed and shook my head, laying out some lame excuse about not wanting to roll over onto his leg. Really, though, I was just too afraid that I'd take too much advantage over his drugged state, cuddling other him in a way that definitely crossed the boundary. Stiles laid his head back and closed his eyes, lacing his fingers through mine easily like the night before. I laid my head down on the bed, pulling the back of his hand to rest an inch from my mouth and fell asleep.