Something between You and Me
Chapter 2
Chapter summary:
Handsome gave a small cough beside him and then he remembered that oh, this was in fact his bastard ex he was talking to, and Stiles had just basically kidnapped a man without his consent to come play his pretend boyfriend in front of his ex-boyfriend. When had this become Stiles life, really?
A/N: Hello everyone! First of all, I just have to send out an enormous amount of love to all of you who has comment/given kudos or just read this story so far! I was completely blown away with all the kind responses I've been getting for this story, both here on ff and on my AO3 account! You are all so very amazing and I treasure all of the response dearly!
NOW, onto this chapter. I am sorry, but I had to make Danny seem a little like a douche, but on the good side: protective!Derek and a whole amount of sterek, fuck yeah! I threw a lot of fluff and just common ridiculousness in there just to make it seem more like the absurd situation it is. Hope you like! All mistakes are my own, and if you see any grammar mistakes or something like that just let me know and I'll change it ASAP :) Enjoy!
Stiles could feel something small and wet flicker on his face over and over again, and he made a move to swat it away with his hands, but when he tried to move the two limbs that were his arms, he found them occupied. One, he found, was fisting in Mr. Ridiculously Handsome's hair, and the other one on the back of his waist, trailing closer to where Handsome's jacket ended, where he came in contact with a patch of soft skin leading down to the man's holy grail of a butt and holy fuck Stiles wanted to touch that. Like right now. Stiles wanted to do so many filthy things with that backside that it could fill out an entire book longer than the Lord of the Rings books (the Hobbit included). Oh god, Stiles really needed to get laid.
He moaned around the lips that were kissing him open, kissing like he was some sort of aphrodisiac that Handsome could never get enough of. And yes, right there and then it sounded like a pretty good plan to stay wrapped around this man for as long he had breath left in his body (which might be a while cuz' he was a Stilinski and darn those genes were good).
He heard a cough from in front of them, but he ignored it for the feeling of the ridiculously hot man's lips touching, and licking his way slowly into Stiles' mouth.
A had came up to cup the back of Stiles' head, and Stiles thought he was going to be pushed away for a second, but after a moment of hesitation the hand scratched the nape of his neck in a way that made shudders run through Stiles' body. He let out a small moan, his hand in Handsome's hair moving to go around his neck so that he could push them closer together, their crotches lining up and creating a friction that made Stiles whimper desperately for more. Holy shit what was happening to him? He was basically fucking in the middle of a market square with a dude he literally just met.
The stranger nipped playfully on Stiles' bottom lip, and Stiles nipped back harder, teasingly almost, all thoughts against public indecency going straight out the window. Public what-again? Nope, nothing like that happening here. Just a man kissing another man. Two bros kissing each other senseless in an open place filled with witnesses in the form of old people and children that were probably scarred for life by now. Yeah, nothing at all happening here.
Stiles could feel himself get week in the knees from all the kissing, and wow, that was a sentence he'd never thought he'd ever think. Ever. When did he turn into a complete girl again? And while someone answered that, could they also please go ahead and tell him what was his name was? He'd seem to have lost it in between getting thoroughly mouth fucked by the delicious stranger's lips in public.
They stood that way, hands close around each other's bodies, kissing and licking until both of them had to stop and come up for air, and even then they held on tightly together, panting, like it would physically hurt them to let go.
Stiles head was resting on the stranger's shoulder, his breath uneven after having what might have been his most heated kiss ever. He was pretty sure he was close to fainting with pleasure at least one time during their make out session, and just holy fuck who even kissed that way anymore?! He was still getting small drops of wetness on his neck and face as he detached his arms from around the man, and was about to reach up and get another dose of that magic mouth, but a loud visible cough was voiced from in front of them.
He sighed, fully prepared to talk down to whoever it was calling on them for too much NC-17 like public display. "Look, it's not our fault that we-" he started, aggravated, and stopped in his tracks when he saw who it was standing in front of them. "Whoah, Danny. Uhm... hi." Stiles greated awkwardly, with his hands still around the stranger's waist.
Quickly, Stiles turned around to whisper in the handsome stranger's ear, "Please act with me on this," before giving the man he had only met under five minutes ago a peck on the cheek and a flirtatious smile. This was so not the way Stiles had planned his day going.
"Stiles." Danny gave him a small smile. "It's good to see you again."
Stiles made an involuntary grimace at Danny's voice, but tried to cover it up with his best fake-smile. "Danny, hi. Wow, I didn't see you there."
"I thought it was you I saw walking down the street up by the park. You seemed like you were in a hurry?"
Stiles visibly winced.
"Yeah, I was that you I saw? Weird, huh? I couldn't tell for sure..." Smooth, Stiles, real smooth. "I was just in a hurry because Hand-" Stiles was about to say Handsome's mom called him, but then he remembered that he didn't know the name of the man he had just practically had on-clothed sex with in the middle of a market square. Yeah, good times.
"Because his," he inclined his head in Handsome's direction next to him, "mother called me to remind us that her birthday party was going to be tonight, and I didn't have a pen with me to write down the details." Stiles was looking straight at Handsome now and battered his eyelashes innocently. "Right, sweetheart?" Handsome's mouth opened slightly in shock at the nickname, and looked like he was seriously considering to just run away from this entire mess, but then he clicked his jaw shut and nodded sourly. Stiles smiled triumphantly. "So that was you huh? Small world."
"Yes, that was me." Danny gave Stiles a once over and their eyes met. "You look great… um, I mean, you look good."
Stiles just kept staring at the man who had caused him so much pain a couple of months back.
"Thanks…I guess. How you've been, Danny?"
"Great, actually. I got that apprentice ship I applied for at Hemsworth's law firm, so I'm starting there after the holidays." Stiles had to really smile at that. Danny had been going crazy worrying about his interview at Hemsworth law firm ever since he found out there was a position open as an apprentice, back when they were together. But that was months ago now, and Stiles was found himself to actually be happy for him. He knew how much that opportunity meant to Danny and his family. He'd always wanted to be the first one in his family to study law.
"I'm happy for you, man. I know how much that job meant to you."
Danny gave a small shrug, but was still smiling slightly back at Stiles.
Handsome gave a small cough beside him and then he remembered that oh, this was in fact his bastard ex he was talking to, and Stiles had just basically kidnapped a man without his consent to come play his pretend boyfriend in front of his ex-boyfriend. When had this become Stiles life, really?
The stranger gave out another cough, and Stiles turned to look at the man, standing awkwardly beside Stiles, looking like he was about to punch Stiles in the face. Well, that would be unpleasant.
Danny seemed to notice Handsome as well, and gave him a once-over, looking back and forth between the stranger and Stiles. "And who is this?" He asked with narrowed eyes, like he couldn't believe that someone like Stiles could be in the same company as Mr. Handsome next to him.
"Oh, yes, I completely forgot," Stiles exclaimed, shaking his head like he didn't have any control over the situation that had gotten so way out of hand (which he didn't, so there wasn't much acting to do on his part). He tightened his grip on Handsome's waist and introduced his fake-boyfriend (that wasn't even aware of the tiny, tiny detail that he was in fact Stiles fake boyfriend up until this point) to his ex.
"Honey, this is Danny, my ex-boyfriend that dumped me in the middle of my best friends engagement party," Stiles said, taking a moment to give Danny the proper amount of the Stilinski stink eye gaze in a way that eventually made Danny flinch. What could he say, the skill was hereditary.
"Danny, this is my boyfriend," he introduced, waving a hand from Danny to Mr. Handsome next to him.
Stiles could basically feel the moment Handsome managed to gather all of the information and understood that yes, it was him this crazy person named Stiles was talking about, and yes, it was too late to escape by now. Handsome's body stiffened from where Stiles had his hand around the back of his waist, but Stiles hand just moved over Handsome's right butt cheek and squeezed hard in warning, making Handsome jump, yes actually jump, for a second, before sending Stiles a cold hard gaze that Stiles would swear could cut through glass.
Danny gave the stranger another skeptical gaze, unaware of the fact that Stiles' warning grip on the strangers ridiculously sexy butt was everything that held him there, and reached out his hand in Handsome's direction. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch your name there." Danny looked at Handsome impatiently as Handsome turned around for a second and gave Stiles a mischievous gaze that seemed to scream Oh, it's on.
Shit.
Handsome stretched out his hand to shake Danny's and gave him the first smile Stiles had ever seen on his face. "Derek," Handsome supplied with a rough voice, and let go of Danny's hand. And JACKPOT, we have a name to the ridiculously handsome face, hello-o Derek.
Danny scrunched his nose, and retreated his hand before putting them back in his jacket pockets. He looked skeptically at Derek, so Stiles shifted awkwardly against Handsome, no Derek, he reminded himself, and was afraid that his cover was busted until he felt Derek's hand sneak around his waist and drag Stiles closer to him.
Something wet flicked annoyingly against Stiles' face again. "What the—" Stiles started, but gaped, mouth open as he actually took in what is happening around him, and why he could hear the sound of the children in the market place running around and practically screaming with joy.
It was snowing. It was December, and it was snowing. In Bath. Where it never had almost never snowed for as long as Stiles had lived there (which was all his life, basically).
"Wow," Stiles mouthed, taking in the tiny flakes of snow drifting slowly downwards from the cloud free sky. "Wow," he repeated in awe, and felt Derek nod against his neck, sending shivers down Stiles' back.
"It hasn't snowed here in a very long time," Derek said, speaking against Stiles' neck as Stiles looked around at his surroundings, and at the children that were running around trying to catch snowflakes with their mouths, or scraping up the little snow that had gathered on the ground to form it into a snowball that they throw on their friends or parents with childlike glee.
Stiles turned around to smile radiantly at Derek. "Not for about 10 years, take or give a year." Derek smiled back at Stiles and removed a snowflake from Stiles' brow, moving his head closer to Stiles as if wanting to do something to him, like smash him into the nearest flat surface that wasn't in public (though Stiles wouldn't be completely opposed to semi-public sex in the future. Hey, what could he say, Derek had made him very desperate.) and fuck Stiles senseless several times in a row. As in multiple times. As in every dirty sex dream Stiles had ever had. Oh yes please.
But Derek didn't. Fuck him into the nearest surface, that is. Instead Derek (wow it was weird calling him by his real name) tilted Stiles' jaw up a bit so that Derek's mouth was in line with Stiles', and kissed him softly, almost chaste, while the snow continued to fall around them. A kiss in the snow. This was the answer to the girly side of Stiles' every dream. (Not that he'd admit that to anyone in within the first 1 billion years, of course. Not even Scott who held the bro card got access to those thoughts. )
When they surfaced in need of air, after having kissed, bitten and licked their way into each other's mouths, Danny was taking pictures of the snowy weather with his phone, and that gave Stiles an idea, so he detached one of his arms from Derek's warm body, and took his phone out from his back pocket. Derek didn't get any heads up, Stiles just held the phone out in the air, smiled and said "Say cheese!" and then the blitz blinded the both of them. Stiles didn't look at the picture, he'd take a look at it later as a proof that he hadn't been dreaming this entire ridiculous situation.
Derek just stared at him. Not in a bad way per se, but still in a way that made Stiles want to shield himself from Derek's gaze because it brought butterflies to his stomach. And if he wasn't enough of a girl before that thought certainly drew the straw. Jesus, Stiles, get yourself together. This isn't some kind of frigging cheesy romance story where the boy gets the girl (or in his case, where the man named Stiles get the ridiculously handsome man named Derek).That just doesn't happen. He's only helping you against his own will because you forced him to. After this you'll never see him again…right?
There were a couple of muffed voices near him, and when Stiles shook himself out of his inner monologue trance, he saw Derek and Danny talking to each other a couple of meters away. Oh shit.
He ran towards them (as fast as he could because it was still around nine o'clock in the morning and he still hadn't had his morning coffee, dammit), and managed to slip on the little layer of snow that now covered the slick marble stones in the market square, and fall straight into the arms of Derek. Double shit.
He looked up at Derek who was looking almost amused down at where Stiles was supported by Derek's arms. "Umm, hi, hun." His eyes flicked from Derek to Danny, and when he noticed that Danny was watching them both, Stiles straightened up and tilted his head just so that he could give Derek a quick kiss on the lips. Then he blushed like the complete girl he was. "Sorry, you know me, clumsy is my middle name."
Danny huffed a laughter. "Well, before you came sliding in, I was about to ask your boyfriend what it is he does for a living." Stiles sniffed once, a involuntarily response to the tickling feeling of a snowflake landing on the tip of his nose.
Derek didn't look startled at the question, nor at the harsh voice it was said in. He just moved his hand from around Stiles' back where he'd been supporting Stiles earlier, so that it was tucked around Stiles' waist almost protectively.
Well, this was going better than expected, Stiles mused joyfully.
"Oh, I'm an artist," Derek said, and that was it. No explanations of what he arted, if he made a fair enough amount of money out of it, when he'd started with it. Just one simple sentence. Four words.
Stiles was beginning to understand that Derek was quite a hard riddle to understand, but Stiles had decided that he was going to try anyway. After all, he was nothing less than a Stilinski, and Stilinski's did what Stilinski's needed to do.
Danny had the nerve to look surprised at the answer, if how his eyebrows got raised was any indication. "An artist, huh? Stiles here has managed to catch himself an artist of all things." His mouth curved downwards almost to say "not bad".
Oh fuck you seven ways from Sunday, Stiles thought, and was about one second away from royally kicking Danny up the arse. That right there was why they never would have worked out in the long run, Danny never had enough faith in Stiles that he could achieve what he wanted to. That, and Danny was horrible at giving head. Take your pick.
"Do I know of any of your work, Derek?"
Derek shrugged, and started moving his fingers gently against Stiles' waist where they had slipped under his jacket and hell-o-o skin to skin, yes please. "You might…That depends entirely on if you've been to an exhibition that took place in Musee du Louvre in Paris, and later in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, a few years back where they had a rare collaboration of the 21'st century's most talented artists' paintings where they got to be exhibited next to the world's most famous works. Or perhaps you've visited my gallery, either the one here in Bath, or near my vacation home in Paris." Derek shrugged again, and his cold fingers tracing Stiles' skin sent shivers down Stiles' spine. "If you've been to any of those you might have seen some my work."
Stiles might be gaping. And he might have also gasped in an entirely non-macho manner, but he was too busy staring at the man tracing nothings onto his skin with his fingers, the same man who had just said he had paintings in some of the most prestigious art museums in the entire world. Seriously, who on earth was this man?!
Danny took a step back, and Stiles could see him think thoroughly over what Derek had just told him. Then Danny's eyes widened, and he too was gaping at Derek. Hah! Stiles wasn't the only one.
"You're name is Derek." Way to state the obvious, Danny-boy.
"It is."
"But... b-but you can't be."
"Why not?"
"The last time someone saw him was-was over 14 years ago. No, this can't be." Danny was shaking his head. "I must have you confused with someone else."
Derek was only smiling at Danny, but not the kind of smile he'd given Stiles earlier, this one was almost…smug.
"Ask me my last name, Danny, and I'll tell you."
Wait, what? What was going on here?
"What is your last name, Derek?" asked, not Danny, but Stiles.
"Hale." Stiles could see Derek watching him carefully as he spoke. "My name is Derek Jonathan Bacrowitz Hale. But I have the feeling that you might know me better under my shortened name, Derek Hale."
What? "Back up a bit, like, a football field of length, kind of bit." Stiles bit his lip to keep himself from flailing a hundred percent (he was always good on his way to flailing seventy, perhaps seventy four percent). "You're Derek Hale, the Derek Hale? As in the child prodigy artist that could draw a fucking replica of Vincent van Gogh if he wanted to when he was just a little child?"
Now that Stiles pointed it out Derek looked almost embarrassed of the fact, but gave a small nod in recognition.
Stiles was gaping again. Yup, that seemed to be a thing with him now.
Danny looked between the both of them. "Stiles, you didn't know? How could you not know your boyfriend is practically the Claude Monet of the 21 first century?"
Derek could apparently see that Stiles was too busy taking inn all the information, so he promptly answered, "I was going to wait to tell him until my painting for him was ready, but you kind of just went ahead and ruined that, didn't you?"
For once Danny actually had the decency to look sorry for something he'd done wrong.
"Umm.." Danny began, but Derek had turned his back on him and was now facing Stiles fully. He touched Stiles shoulder briefly, before snapping his fingers in front of Stiles' face.
"Stiles? You ok in there?" Derek's brows narrowed in concern.
Stiles continued to stare at Derek.
"Your painting was placed next to Da Vinci's for three months!" Stiles blurted out. "Like, your actual work was hanging on the same wall as Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa."
"Well, not the exact same wall…"
Stiles punched Derek on his shoulder. "You know what I mean you doufus."
"Yeah, I do. And yes, it does." The man who was standing in front of him, Derek Hale, a man who's paintings were worth millions and millions of pounds, the same man he'd forced to pretend to play his boyfriend.
Oh god, Stiles had forced a millionaire to be his pretend boyfriend. He was going to die. This man in front of him probably had dogs in his possession. Huge, drooling dogs that most likely could cut through little Stiles like he was a chewing stick. Or even worse, rape dogs. Scott had told him about rape dogs a while back, said that apparently it is rumored that the royal family has some at their disposal.
"Of course the royal family doesn't have rape dogs, Scott!" Stiles had started. "They have the bloody Tower of London where they can stow people that are against the monarchy. That, and they have ninjas dressed out as body guards. I'm disappointed in you, Scott, I thought you knew this."
Scott had been outraged. "So they can have ninjas, but not rape dogs? What the hell kind of a monarchy is it we're living in today?! That's it, I'm out." And then he'd promptly walked out of Stiles' apartment, slamming the door on his way out. Dramatic, dramatic, Stiles had mused. The next day he'd found a plushie of an angry looking dog with a sign around his neck that said "Rape dog", and another one of a ninja wearing black clothes on his doormat. Stiles had taken that as a sign that he was forgiven. It was probably Allison's doing. That loving woman kept Scott in check when Scott was acting like a complete child.
Derek, the millionaire art genius, Derek, gave Stiles a small wink before crowding closer to Stiles, grabbing onto Stiles hands that had gone cold from standing outside in the cold for so long. "I'm so sorry for not telling you, will you forgive me, sweetheart?" And wait a minute. Sweetheart? Since when did Derek call Stiles his sweetheart (looking away from the fact that Stiles has only known this man for the better part of half an hour)? But then he remembered the little wink Derek had given him, that Danny was standing only a couple of meters away from them, and that Derek was his pretend boyfriend and oh! He wanted them to put on a show! Then a show he would get. (Stiles played a tree in the background of a school play of Hamlet, he knows this shit.)
Stiles swatted away Derek's surprisingly warm fingers from where they were closed around his own, and took a step back. "You lied to me," he said weakly. "We've been together for weeks and not once did you think to mention to me that you're a fucking millionaire?!"
Derek winced, but there was a small glint in his eyes, visible only to Stiles, that told him he was onboard with it. Oh this was going to be so good.
"Wait," Stiles paused. "That's why you always had small scraps of painting on your clothes and face whenever I saw you on weekdays? And the room you keep locked at your apartment and told me I couldn't enter? That's where you paint?"
Derek nodded hopelessly.
"How could you not tell me this?" Stiles wheezed, one hand going through his hair in a desperate manner. "Didn't-didn't you trust me, was that it? Were you afraid I was going to leak our story to the press or-or." Stiles took a look at Derek, and the devastating look on his perfectly sculpted face told Stiles everything he needed to know. He gasped. "You did, didn't you! You thought I was going to betray you like that?" Stiles actually felt tears threatening to form in his eyes. Wow, his acting was top notch today.
"No!" Derek cried out. "No, I would never have thought you could have done something like that to me. But at first I was unsure. People…some people in my past have used who I am against me before, and I just-I didn't want us to be like that. I just had to make sure." And wow, if making art didn't work out for Derek in the future he sure could take up work in the film industry because holy hell that man was good.
"So you decided to test me, then. You didn't trust me enough to even be honest with me in the weeks we were together?" And now Stiles was officially crying, well this was just great. "That was just nothing to you, just a test to see if you could trust me?" Stiles shook his head and took another step back on the snow covered market ground. In the corner of his eye he could see Danny watching them intensely. He probably thought that they were going to break up because of what he said. Yeah, In your dreams, Danny-boy.
He was about to be protested against from Derek, but Stiles cut of whatever he was about to say with a shaky laugh. "Well, how did I do, Derek? Did I make the cut or is someone else holding the highscore?" Stiles sighed, and took another step back. "I can't take this right now, I can't take you right now," said Stiles, but gave Derek what he hoped was a discreet wink so that he knew not to give up on him and come after him.
"We'll talk later," Stiles began when Derek touched his arm. "I just need some time to think. Alone." Then he turned and sent Danny a stern gaze. "Goodbye Danny, I hope we won't be seeing each other for a long, long while. Be good." And then he walked away, praying that Derek would follow.
One second.
Nothing.
Two seconds.
Still nothing but the sound of children running around and screaming with joy, and the sound of fresh snow under Stiles' boots.
Three seconds.
Nothing.
Four seconds.
It seemed like Derek wasn't going to come after him after all.
Five seconds.
Darn it, for a moment Stiles thought he could act out the ending of a cheesy gay romance novel, but no luck.
Six seconds.
And now Danny probably thought they broke up because of him. Just great.
Seven seconds.
There was a noise behind him, like someone was running behind him. But he wrote it off for mistaking it for the sound of the children around him, so he ignored it and kept on walking a bit faster than before.
Eight seconds.
"Stiles! Stiles! God dammit, slow the fuck down you idiot!" Someone was shouting. At him. He stopped in his tracks.
Nine seconds.
Derek reached for him.
Ten seconds.
Stiles reached back.
"There are children around. It's rude to swear in front of children, Derek," Stiles retorted, but his mouth was curved upwards into a smile.
Derek took a much needed shaky breath and moved so that his face was next to Stiles, and suddenly Stiles' had a handful of Derek warmth extraordinaire tucking Stiles close to his chest . "I wouldn't have to swear in front of children if you hadn't gotten me into this bloody mess in the first place, you idiot. But I'll do as you wish, this time at least," Derek whispered warmly into Stiles' ear.
Stiles returned the hug and cuffed Derek on his shoulder. "That's for the swearing. What would the children think, really Derek?" Stiles joked. Derek laughed.
"What do you say, fake boyfriend, ready to get back together again?" Derek mused, and cupped Stiles' cheek gently.
"Yupp," Stiles whispered against Derek's skin. "Make it a good one, will you? I need that bastard to see what he's missing out on."
Derek huffed a laugh against Stiles' jaw, and then moved his head back so that his lips were lined up with Stiles'. Stiles' eyes trailed down from Derek's eyes to his deliciously wet pink lips. Derek gave Stiles a sly grin as he just barely moved close enough so that his lips could touch Stiles', before he took a step back and spoke louder than before. "I'm so, so sorry. The problem was never that I didn't trust you. I would trust you with my life if had I the chance to. I just wanted to make sure that you felt the same about me before I told you." Derek held onto Stiles' left hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "And-and I was going to tell you. Tonight actually, after my mother's birthday party." Derek winked at him and Stiles was close to laughing. He remembered! Stiles had the best fake-boyfriend in the world. "I had a painting I'd been working on that I was going to give to you, and then I was going to tell you about me. And I was also going to tell you that I'm completely smitten by you." Stiles looked up in shock. "And that I think I am falling for you."
"Really?"
"Really."
Stiles grinned. This was officially the best fake non-break up he had ever had.
"I think I am too," he said weekly, already beginning to feel the small butterflies in his stomach - that he found always coming whenever Derek Hale was near -blossoming up.
"You think you're what? I couldn't hear you there." Derek teased.
"I THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU OKAY." For a moment all the noise of children's joyful cries, cars honking and people talking stopped, and Stiles realized that perhaps he had said that a tad louder than he expected. "Do you want it written down or something, man, jeez," Stiles complained, but he was smiling so big that his cheeks hurt.
"Nah, I'll make do with having you there to tell me every day," was all Derek said (and who the fuck says stuff like that?! Did he want Stiles to have a heart attack, or what?), and then there were lips on his own. Very, very cold lips, but lips nevertheless. Sweet mother Jesus have mercy Derek's lips on his felt good. More than good. Like, mind-blowingly good. Stiles moaned at the feeling, and drew Derek as close to him as he could get without them doing the horizontal tango (minus clothing).
Derek was scratching at the base of his neck again, and that turned stiles into a pile of goo at Derek's feet. Derek only smiled when Stiles gave small whimpers against his lips, so Stiles thought hell no, not again, and took control. He trailed one of his hands between their bodies and down to Derek's crotch, pressing a teasing hand down on the zipper of Derek's jeans which resulted in Derek moaning into Stiles' jaw helplessly. "You think he's seen enough?" Derek panted against Stiles' skin, loking up to glance at where Danny stood by the café, watching them.
The harsh smash of Stiles' lips against Derek's could only be taken as a loud and visible no. "Fuck, Stiles. Fucking hell, I want to touch you so badly," Derek cursed against Stiles' jaw, and it seemed too genuinely spoken to be anything but the truth.
"Is that my fake-boyfriend, or Derek Hale talking?" Stiles whispered huskily into Derek's ear, licking a stripe alongside his jaw and tasting the little sweat that had gathered there.
"Both," Derek groaned as Stiles' hand pressed hard over his crotch through the denim fabric. "Definitely both."
"Good," Stiles proclaimed, then he removed his hands from Derek's body and distanced himself from the sex-god in front of him. For the first time, he actually got to take a good at the mysterious Derek Hale. He stood panting with snow caught in his black hair, on the eyelids of his green eyes, on his jaw that had a few days' worth of stubble covering it, on his nose that should not allowed to be that perfectly sculpted (because puh-lease, everyone's nose looks weird, noses aren't meant to look anything but weird and pointy), on his pink, almost red like lips that seemed like they'd been thoroughly mouth-fucked. And yes, Stiles was quite happy about that fact, and would have guessed that he looked just about as fucked as Derek (not literally speaking, unfortunately).
Even his bloody neck, with that motherfucking Adams apple and skin that Stiles just wanted to get this mouth around and bite, had snowflakes on it that landed on his skin and then melted into small drops of water that ran down his skin. Fuck.
"What are you doing?" said Derek in frustration, either from getting cock blocked or from Stiles staring at him.
"Shhhhh, I'm admiring the view."
Derek's laugh right there and then shouldn't have made Stiles' as happy as it did.
Handsome was wearing a thick grey winter coat that stopped just so that Stiles could see some of his deliciously magical ass when he walked (Stiles wanted to see if he could manage to bounce a nickel off that thing because it sure looked like it could). And his legs, holy hell, his long, dark blue denim covered legs. Stiles was pretty sure if he could actually manage to write poetry that wasn't completely crap, he would write them about this man's legs.
He let out a shaky breath, and noticed first now how it was actual minus degrees outside, so he stuffed his hand into his pocket and dragged out the knitted winter hat he'd gotten from his grandmother, putting it over his head.
Two hands were closing around on Stiles' hands, and Derek was standing there rubbing his own hands against Stiles' to bring some warmth into Stiles' hands.
Derek tucked his arm around Stiles' waist, and Stiles noticed that Danny was nowhere to be seen after their little make out session. Good. Serves that bastard right to see what he's missing out on. "It's getting cold, we should be heading back to the café," Derek said.
So they did.
TBC
This story can also be found on my livejournal, or on my AO3 account (links on my profile because ff won't allow us to post links in textposts).
