STEREK Breathe in Chapter 2, a teen wolf fanfic

A/N: heyyy guys... so um, sorry this took so long. I secretly had it done like two weeks ago but for some reason didn't upload it, um yeah, anyway, things get really cute in this one. yummy.

When Stiles woke up, his lips were swollen and throbbing. He felt the remains of dried tears clinging to his face and sore cheek. Everything hurt so much more than it had before he'd drifted off, making him wonder if it'd gotten worse or if he merely hadn't realized it before.

When he got up he noticed the note one his desk. The stairs excuse was good... he'd have to used that. But, first he'd have to call Scott and make sure he would know what to say if the Sheriff asked him... and that would mean explaining what had actually happened to his best friend...

He wouldn't be able to lie because Scott could hear his heart-beat... and thinking about that made Stiles realize that werewolves were pretty damn creepy... they could practically read your minds.

And his mind was starting to hurt from thinking too much... it felt like it was going to explode.

Just like drowning...

He dropped the letter and let his arms fall limply at his sides. He just needed to take his mind off of everything... keep himself occupied. Usually he did that by seeing Scott. His friend had a natural tendency to ignore Stiles' problems and consume the kid into his own. It did get infuriating but at least it made it easier for Stiles to ignore anything that was wrong with himself.

The problem with seeing Scott now would be the fact that Stiles couldn't hide anything. He would be concerned if he saw the busted lip and swollen face, and probably wouldn't let Stiles do anything before he explained.

So since Stiles had virtually no friends, there was only one other person he could see.

Derek.

And since he felt in debt and thankful for the man's help already, this wasn't an option either. He didn't exactly know Derek well enough to just show up out of the blue and talk. So one again, Stiles was just going to have to stick through this on his own.

He was heading back toward his bed to lie back down aimlessly and let his mind erase itself, but his phone rang. He cursed under his breathe when he saw that it was Scott.

"...hello?"

"Dude, where are you!? We have a huge science test... you usually don't forget that stuff."

"...aw... shit! I completely forgot."

"...hey, are you okay? Your voice sounds a little weird..."

Its the swollen cheek... Stiles' face paled, "Uh, no, uh, yeah, I'm fine. Everything's-"

"Your heart rate sped up."

"Fuck! Scott! Drop it! It's nothing, okay, just... I uh... I fell down the stairs."

"No you didn't... what the hell is going on Stiles?"

"I dunno, uh, CSHHHHH uh, oh, sounds like I'm losing you, PFSHHH TSSS CKKK, ah, that static is just horrible, I mean, really, it- BSHHHH"

"Stiles, cut it out! Tell me what happened!"

"Uh, gonna have to call you back, bye." he turned his phone around and took out the battery before even hanging up in order to emphasize the fact that he wasn't taking anymore calls. He could almost hear Scott's frustration when would he re-dialed the number and be sent straight to voice mail, but he didn't care.

He was about to go back into bed as planned, but he noticed something on the floor; a leather jacket.

He bent down and picked it up, knowing it was Derek's. For some reason beyond Stiles' half-conscious mind, the first thing he did was bring the fabric up to his face and deeply inhale. It smelled like Derek. The next thing he did was put it on, the jacket now being the only thing he wore on his torso. Since it was Derek's, it was way to big for him, the sleeves coming far past his hands, but it was warm and nice and... Derek's.

He took in the comforting smell and warmth that it gave him, but it wasn't until a few minutes past that he saw it for what it truly was;

An excuse.

An excuse to go see Derek.

Stiles backed his jeep out of the drive way quickly, wanting to get there as soon as possible. He stepped on the gas pedal with more force than intended, jolting forward, but didn't slow down afterward. He passed by a speed limit sign that said "25" and glanced over to see how fast he was going. 50. He'd never sped that much before...

When he noticed how many people were beeping at him he decided to pull over. He was scaring himself.

Why am I in such a hurry?

He took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face, hurting his cheek in the process.

It could just be because he needed to talk to someone. Not about what had happened, but about anything... he couldn't stand it when his mind wasn't occupied. It was then that he could think of nothing but drowning and agony. But there was more... it wasn't just that he was seeking someone. He was seeking Derek in particular. Why?

Today was the first time Derek had shown any consent for Stiles whatsoever, and the kid wasn't sure exactly what to make of it. Before today, all Derek ever did was order him, threaten him, hit him, and push him around. In fact, today was his first run in with Derek in which he hadn't been completely terrified. And even now, after Stiles saw how sweet the man could be, he'd still be terrified. Derek was an intimidating person... he had that affect on people.

But Derek had shown that he truly cared about him that day, and that was something Stiles couldn't picture Derek doing for anyone. That cold, threatening man had actually taken the boy into his arms and held him. He'd actually taken him into his lap and stroked his head, even kissed...

Derek had kissed him. Stiles just now realized that.

He felt it when it happened of course. It felt so nice and comforting... but he'd never registered it fully. Derek Hale... the cold as ice, blood thirsty werewolf had actually kissed him so gently. Stiles felt a small smile creeping up his cheeks that soon spread into a grin. He started his car up again and drove toward Derek's house, speeding slightly less this time.

The quick knock at the door woke Derek up from his restless sleep. He sat up, realizing that he wasn't on his bed or his couch... he'd just fallen asleep on the floor. Or maybe he was sleep walking again... Either way, this was normal. He needed to get his sleeping pattern under control or he'd start waking up like this every day – shirtless, cold, sweating, and on the floor.

He didn't know who to expect when he opened the door, and he was a little mad at what he saw.

"Hey." Stiles smiled and waved at him, trying not to stare at the man's muscular torso. There was just to many perfect abs... it wasn't fair. "Uhhm, you left this," He extended the jacket toward him, "At my house... so..."

Derek snatched it out of the kids hand impatiently, watching him stumble back and hearing his heart beat rise.. "Don't you think you should be resting after what happened?"

"Uhhh, no..." Derek glared at him. "Yes... yes, I should be, um-"

"Come with me." he grabbed the kid's wrist and lead him into the house.

"O-okay..." Stiles followed him.

They walked up the dark creaky stairs, underneath the hanging rafters and floor boards. The whole time Stiles felt like something was about to fall on his head. One of the steps was particularly messed up, actually caving in when Stiles stepped on it, causing the boy to cry out and cling to Derek's arm by impulse. "Your seriously live here!?" he panted.

"... yes... I don't see what the big deal is."

"Well, it's kind of falling apart if you haven't noticed." Stiles told him.

Derek smirked a bit. "Well clinging to someone's arm has always prevented wood from breaking... good call."

Stiles flushed and let go, letting his arms fall to his side. Derek headed up the stairs again, chuckling a little.

"... shut up." Stiles told him and followed.

Derek led him into his bedroom and told Stiles to lay down.

"Aw, your bed is so boring... all the sheets are gray. You need some color in this house, it's depressing."

"I'll color it with your blood! Lie down!"

Stiles shuffled onto the bed, the color draining from his face. Derek heard his racing heart beat and sighed. "Look, Stiles, you don't need to be so scared of me."

The boy shrugged. "You say that... but then you threaten me... and hurt me... and you never trust me..."

Derek sat on the edge of the bed and brought his hand up to the kid's face. "I'm not going to hurt you. Next time I threaten you... remember that."

Stiles swallowed hard and slid his hand on top of Derek's. "I'll remember... but I'll still probably get scared."

Derek smiled a little. "I know. But just keep it in mind."

Stiles suddenly sighed and pushed the man's hand away. "Look, Derek, why're you being so nice to me? Is it just 'cause you feel bad for me, or what?"

His eye brows crinkled and he backed away a bit, trying to think of what to say to that. "...Well... I know you're not a werewolf... but you've saved me and my pack way to many times. I consider you one of us, now."

Stiles' face lit up a bit. "I'm a part of your pack?"

Derek nodded.

"I'm a human... and I'm a part of a werewolf pack. This is so awesome, I feel so bad ass!"

Derek had brought his hand back and was now stroking down Stiles' chin, trailing to his neck. The boy moved to the touch at first, but looked confused and started getting a little worked up once he realized what Derek was doing. His eyes shot over to the man's bare chest, and his mouth quivered open. ...Why is this turning me on so much?

Derek could sense the boy's lust, letting him know that the feeling was mutual, but he didn't act on it yet. Two people couldn't go from hardly even friends to a relationship in a day... if he wanted this to work, he'd have to get to know the kid better. They'd both have to know each other.

He smiled down at the innocent face, continuing to stroke him, now moving to his chest. "You tired?"

Stiles shook his head quickly. He was getting way to worked up and he was sure Derek could see, so he gently linked his hand with Derek's and pulled it away from his body. Just holding the man's hand was getting him a little flushed, so he could only imagine how vulnerable he looked a second ago. And of course, with Stiles looking like that it was all Derek could do not to lunge forward and claim him. His cheeks were tinged red and his mouth was wide open as usual. It was always so open... so tempting...

"I... um..." Stiles gulped, meeting the werewolf's intimidating glare, "I'm okay, really. I don't need to lie down."

Derek shook his head. "You need to rest. Just do what I say."

He sighed, "Seriously, I'm fine! How long do I have to rest for?"

"Until I say to get up!" Derek snapped with a little more force than intended. "Just listen, okay. I saved your life – you have to listen to me."

"Well, I saved your life... twice. Or was it three times...? No, twice, but anyway, I guess that means I have double the authority over you." He smirked.

Derek sarcastically returned the smirk, "Well, you're a little hyper-active teenager, and I'm a strong werewolf. Who wins now?"

"You said to remember that you're actually a softy next time you threaten me."

"...Softy? That is not what I said..."

"You also said that I was a part of your pack, so-"

"Oh, and do you know what I do to train my pack?" He took Stiles' arm into his hands, "I break their bones, make them bleed, and chain them up. All a part of the learning process."

Stiles turned pale. "...Y-yeah, but, I won't heal."

Derek smirked and Stiles held his breathe. "Guess that means I have the authority." he let the boys arm fall limp.

Stiles sighed in relief. "'You don't need to be scared of me, Stiles.'" He quoted from earlier, "'I'm not gonna hurt you.'"

Derek cupped the boy's soft cheek into his hand, "I was being sincere." He then leaned in slowly and kissed his forehead.

Stiles jaw dropped and he nodded before Derek got up to leave. "You should get some sleep." was the last thing he said before leaving the room.

Naturally, there was no way Stiles could sleep.

He was trying to just lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, close his eyes if Derek walked in, but he realized that Derek wouldn't buy it. People breathe differently when they're sleeping. So, since there was nothing he could do, Stiles decided to just walk around a bit.

The house was huge. It was like looking around an ancient ruins museum. Most of the rooms were pretty empty though, filled with cracked furniture and old ashes. It was actually pretty upsetting to see room after room of destroyed things, imagining how beautiful everything once must've been.

So after through hall after hall of dark rooms, broken lights, cracked light bulbs, he was immediately attracted to the subtle light peeking through one door.

When he opened the door he was faced with a huge window, faced perfectly toward the sun. It lit up the room like a blaring florescent, but with such a natural perfect glow. The room was small, a little bigger than a large closet, and completely empty. Or at least the floor was empty. The walls were covered with pictures of people.

It didn't take Stiles more than a second to realize what all the pictures were of. Half of the faces were pale with dark hair and green eyes, just like Derek's. And all of them, every single one, had this natural, wild, glowing light about them. This was Derek's family.

It was almost like a time-line actually... the pictures from the left seemed to be older and of younger children, their ages progressing as the pictures trailed to the right. A few of the pictures had been ripped up and taped back together – those ones were of Peter. Stiles recognized a pouting little boy in the corner of a family photo as Derek. So he's always been like that... he found himself smiling for a short second but this immediately faded as he kept looking.

It was so sad.

Derek wasn't a sentimental person – he kept everything locked up inside, not confiding in anyone or seeking any help, yet he had set this all up on his own. He'd cleaned out one of the filthy ash filled rooms and made it beautiful, lining the walls with memories. This was all he had of his family now.

Stiles stopped and stared at one picture for a while. He recognized the girl, and he knew where from. He'd seen half oh her dead, dismantled body, looking lifeless and battered. She was so beautiful in the picture... connecting the two images together was one of the hardest things...

He was then hit with the realization that it had only happened a few months ago. He'd seen Derek the day after it happened – right after – and the man didn't look phased at all, but it was clear from the amount of her painting the walls that she meant so much to him. She took up half of the whole display.

He'd never gotten a chance to mourn over her. He'd had to bottle everything all up.

Stiles closed his eyes for a second. He remembered how he'd been right after his mother passed – dead and unresponsive to the world. If he wasn't sobbing alone in his room, he was pushing around food on his plate, not eating, not wanting to eat. There was no way he would be able to push that sort of thing away like Derek did.

He opened his eyes and turned around toward the doorway, finding the man right there, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

"I-I'm... sorry, I didn't mean to come in here, I just-"

"It's okay."

Stiles slowly looked around the room another time. "...did you do all of this?"

Derek walked up to the center of the display, moving his hand to the right, indicating the part that was filled with Laura. "I did this part..." he then turned to indicate the rest of it, "Me and my sister both did the rest. It was her idea."

Stiles nodded, taking it all in for a few more seconds, not really knowing what to say. He wanted to say something... he had to. "... it's beautiful." he decided on. A slight smile formed on the man's face, so Stiles knew he'd said something right for once. All he wanted to do now was stop the man from frowning all together. He wanted to constantly provide him with something to smile about, but he knew he wouldn't be able to.

He reached out and took Derek's hand, feeling it tighten around his own. The man sighed.

"Don't feel bad, okay? It happened ten years ago. It's fine."

Stiles nodded, but his empathy didn't pass. No matter how long ago things like that happen, people don't just get over them. And what about his sister? That wasn't ten years ago. But Stiles couldn't think of anything else to say and Derek started walking out of the room, dropping the boy's hand. Stiles followed him.

When they got to the stair case Derek turned to face him. "It's three o-clock. You should get home before your dad does... tell him what happened."

"Yeah, I fell down the stairs." Stiles smiled.

"Yeah. That."

"Alright. Bye."

He went down the stairs but when he was about to go out the door, Derek told him to wait.

"Did you bring a jacket?" he asked him, seeing Stiles' bare arms and noting that it was about 35 degrees outside.

"Uh... no..." Stiles told him.

Derek sighed and took his leather one off once again, handing it to Stiles who took it gingerly.

"I'll just... bring it back tomorrow then." He told the man, putting it on.

Derek nodded and watched him walk out the door, then going over to his window and watching the kid bang his head against the side of his jeep, saying something to himself with big and expressive hand gestures, before hopping in and driving off.

"If you don't stop with the questions, I am just gonna stab myself in the face!" Stiles told Scott, walking quickly to avoid his friend.

"Well I don't see why you don't tell me anything anymore! You weren't at school and you come back all beat up, and you smell like depression!"

"What the hell does depression smell like!?"

"Like-" Scott froze and grabbed Stiles shoulder. "Like Derek! You smell like Derek... did he do this to you? I'll kick his ass!"

"No! Derek didn't do this, look," He opened his back pack and took out the leather jacket that Derek had lent to him, "He lent me this. That's all."

"... And what were you doing around him in the first place?"

"I just... ran into him and-"

"You don't even wanna know what you smell like right now."

Stiles' eyebrows crinkled. "What is it?"

"...Sexual desire."

"Sexual desire!?"

"Lust, passion... what was the last one?"

"Arrousal."

"That! You smell like 'arrousal' when you talk about Derek, and its creeping me out!"

Stiles quickly glanced around and found an excuse. "That's because Lydia's locker is right there, and she's fixing her make up in the mirror!"

Scott turned around and saw that it was the truth. He sighed. "Okay fine. Can you just tell m-"

"NO. Not talking to you anymore."

"Stiles!"

"Nope." he turned and walked to his class, which, of course, Scott sat behind him in.

After six hours of Scott's mind-numbingly stupid attempts to get information, Stiles was finally alone, sitting behind the wheel of his jeep. And it wasn't just Scott either – lots of people were asking him what had happened. He didn't think anyone cared so he was a little shocked, but they probably didn't care. They were probably just curious.

He sighed and started his car, reminding himself that he had to go give Derek's jacket back. (As if he would forget. It was all he had been thinking about all day.) He pulled out of the school parking lot and headed over to Derek's house.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked the kid after receiving his jacket, noticing the frustration in his expressions.

"Yeah... its just... ah, do me a favor, okay? Next time you see Scott, just punch him in the face. Hard. Make him bleed."

Derek laughed a little. "Why?"

"...Just... punch him." Stiles sighed, walking into Derek's house as if it was a regular thing for him to be over. He collapsed onto a beaten up couch and ran his hand over his hair. "Oh, by the way, Scott and your pack are way to observant! They could all smell the jacket and they were all like, 'How come you smell like Derek?' and they all thought that you did this to me," he pointed to his swollen cheek.

Derek sat next to him. "So they have no faith in my self control even thought I'm the one who taught them self control... that's great to know."

Stiles sighed and let himself slump over onto Derek's shoulder, trying to seem casual as his mind freaked out. When the man's arm settled around him he couldn't help but smile. "Well they don't really see your nice side. I never really saw it before either... it's so unexpected..."

"What, that I don't hate everyone?"

"No, just that you actually have a sentimental side and know how to cheer people up... well me at least... I mean, Scott can't even do that."

Derek smiled slightly and stroked up the kids neck, loving how much he moved with and leaned into the touch.

He didn't really know what Stiles was talking about... He was probably one of the worst at consoling people and had no idea what to do when the kid had started crying... but whatever worked. If Stiles thought he was comforting then he could go right on thinking that.

"Hey, I wonder what's longer..." Stiles brought his hand up the Derek's face and stroked his stubble, "My hair or your facial hair..."

"You should grow your hair out." Was Derek's response.

"But... then it won't feel all cool and fuzzy. And then I'd have to comb it, and style it, and... yeah, I'm not gonna do that."

"It'd look better though."

"...fine."

Derek was now stroking Stiles' face once again, astonished at how smooth his cheeks were. There was absolutely no stubble whatsoever. "Do you even need to shave?" he asked.

"...yes." Stiles said through slightly clenched teeth. "I just look really bad with facial hair."

"Yeah, it wouldn't suit you."

"...Well maybe I could grow like a goatee or something," He joked, "Or like, a freakin mustache."

Derek shook his head, "Just stop talking."

Stiles laughed.

They carried on talking like that for almost an hour, Derek caressing and feeling all over Stiles' face neck and chest in the process as the boy tried not to get worked up. Derek found it hilarious, actually, just how attracted Stiles was to him. It was almost insane... definitely adorable. Stiles was just so adorable...

He wasn't listening to Stiles by now, letting the kid ramble on, as he impulsively slid his hand under the kid's chin, tilting his head up, and gently linking their lips together.

Stiles stiffened at first, not expecting it at all, but then he melted into the kiss, fully understanding now just how sweet and gentle Derek could be. Even when he started imagining doing this sort of thing with Derek, he pictured it being pretty rough, like being shoved up against walls and half forced into it (even though he would never protest) and that was, of course, really hot... but he never imagined that Derek would be gently rubbing under his chin, pulling on his lips with the slightest bit of suction, being so tender and careful...

But as everything is bound to do, the kiss ended. Derek immediately bolted up from the couch. He had his back turned to Stiles, not looking at him, not saying anything, rubbing his hand through his hair. Why did I do that!?

Stiles let out a huge gust of air, convincing himself that what had just happened was real. It wasn't his imagination, it wasn't a dream; it was happening, right then. It was real. He stood up and slowly approached Derek.

"...What was that for?" he asked with mock curiosity, merely wanting the man to speak.

Derek paused before sighing and responding, "You just felt really close... and you looked really... vulnerable. I couldn't help myself."

Stiles smiled, "You make it sound like a bad thing... as if I wouldn't want it or something."

"No. I know you do."

"Then what's the matter."

Derek sighed and stayed silent for a while, filling the room with his tangibly heavy thoughts, before turning around and walking up to Stiles. He brought his hand up to the boy's cheek, rubbing it lightly as he slid his arm around the kid's waist, pulling him closer, smiling as the expression of shock and pleasure filled Stiles' face, his mouth open wide.

"I don't know." Derek told him, "I just wasn't sure how you'd react."

Stiles' arms timidly wrapped around the man's neck. "I'm not exactly sure how to react."

"Just keep your mouth open."

"Wha-? mmmhh!"

Derek connected their lips once again, this time slipping in his tongue, feeling the warmth of Stiles' mouth. He could feel the boy's sporadic energy transferring to him as Stiles gripped onto Derek's shirt, baking up slowly, pulling him forward until his back was pressed up against a wall. Derek almost immediately moved onto the kid's neck, nipping and kissing the tender skin passionately, earning sounds of pleasure and shock and helpless longing. It would be impossible to count how many times the phrase "oh my god" left Stiles' lips. He held on to Derek's head submissively, letting him suck on his pulse and trail down his veins.

Stiles was enjoying it more than anything, but as the man's hand tickled underneath his shirt it began to be too much. He felt weak at the knees, like he was about to just collapse. Luckily, Derek noticed how frantic the kid's moaning was and decided to stop, closing it all up with a short subtle kiss that was even more gentle than the first one.

He leaned away from the boy, smiling at his vulnerable, overwhelmed face. Stiles let out a few heavy breathes before sliding his arms around Derek's neck, burying his head into the man's chest. He felt Derek's arms settle around him.

"And what was that one for?" Stiles asked him.

"For being so damn adorable."