Stiles sat at his laptop, and flipped through web pages willing himself to pay more attention and failing. "Stiles," but he was too lost in his head to hear it. He pressed his knuckles to his lips. He wasn't really sure where the train of thought was taking him. Flicking through chem classes, and a couple detentions he would rather forget. Then that was the thing, he wasn't forgetting, but why? "Stiles did you hear me?!"

His head snapped back and met the gaze of his best friend. Scott gave him that irritated head tilt, the one that said 'You haven't heard a word I said'. Wide eyed Stiles fumbled, the chair rocking with him "What?" Still his mind was persistent, swamping him. A question he could only half remember 'Do you find…' something, but- He stood up as the computer chair clattered to the floor.

"Stiles what are you doing?" He took a step forward towards the door "Wait dude where are you going?"

"There is something I have to do…" He trailed off, struggling to get a pair of shoes on. All the while he had no idea where his body was leading him, or just what his mind was puzzling through. Not bothering to give a better explanation, cause honestly there wasn't one, he thudded down the stairs stopping loudly in the landing.

"Stiles honey?" Aunt Morell poked her head around the partition to the living room. "Where do you think you're going?" The smirk on her face should have made Stiles wary, but his head was too full to think of anything else. He blinked a few times.

"Uh there's uh," he stammered, not sure enough to give an honest answer.

"Something you need to do?" He nodded. "Well don't let me stop you." With that he was out the door. His stroll up the side walk quickly turned to a run. One that stole the breath from his lungs, and made his muscles ache. All the same he bolted towards the center of town, ran even after his body told him to stop. He should have felt the magic in it, the way it pulled at his cells like a moth to the flame. It was stronger than he was though, much stronger.

He did start to slow though and eventually came to a stop in front of a figure just slightly taller than himself. Everything seemed to click. "Danny," he said breathlessly.

"You asked me a question once…"

"Um I did?" he flushed

"The answer is yes." Stiles didn't wait another second. He all but leaps from the ground and into Danny's arms. Like centrifugal motion, he collided with the other boy and found soft lips pressed to his.

— —

Darling Stiles,

What can I say. London didn't last, but I'm sure you knew that. I was never one to be tied down for long. Jackson got himself into a mess, and decide to be a prick instead of ask for help. Whatever, it doesn't matter. I'm over him. I'm in South Beach now. Not so far from home. Working on my tan, and oh Stiles the boys here. You'd love them. They're very no strings attached. Oh if I could see your face when I tell you this… None of them matter. There is only one thing I really have to say to you.

Peter Hale.

Stiles laid down in the nook of Danny's arms. Shaking his head slightly as she detailed her dark, mysterious new boy toy. He wondered just how long this one would last. After all she hadn't been in London more than two months. Then what a difference such a short time could make. "Any news?" the sweet baritone voice above him asked. With a sweet smile he turned to face his boyfriend.

"Oh you know, same old same old," he waved his hand slightly "Lydia's trolling for men." Danny smiled, nonjudgmental as ever. He was really a good guy, kind but strong. So much of what Stiles wanted, but never let himself have. "She seems to think I might enjoy it." He shifted swinging a leg over so he was straddling Danny. "But I'm pretty happy where I am."

"Just pretty happy?" he said with this witty little smile on his lips, one that pulled his gorgeous dimples to the surface. Stiles hand comes up to cup his face, and ran a finger down his soft cheek.

"If you think you can make me happier then by all means," he teased. "I just don't think that's possible." Leaning forward, he pressed a hungry kiss to Danny's lips, and tangled his fingers in his dark hair. He pulled back for the briefest moment to look into those rich dark eyes. "I love you."

And he was blind, too blind to see that the next kiss, the one soft and tender on his boyfriend's lips, was the very thing he tried to avoid his whole life. The kiss of death. So instead, he held him close, feeling the warm spill over his skin, bathing in the sunshine that was Danny. "I love you, too," he answered breathlessly. All Stiles could feel was bliss. His hands snake up Danny's v-neck wanting nothing more than for this moment to never end.

— —

In the end, it couldn't last forever. Stiles heard the beetle ticking all day, and he knew. The sound of the death watch beetle, it means the man you love is about to die. He just didn't know what he could do about it. Not Danny. This couldn't happen to him, it couldn't. Except that it could, and in fact would just be another in a long line of tragic deaths in their family. Panic runs through his veins, burning hot adrenaline. He researched, no web page unvisited, no page of the thousands of magical books in their house unturned. Something had to be able to break the curse before it was too late. When the ticking stopped, he wondered if maybe just maybe the threat was over, but no sooner than the thought passed through his might did he hear the door down stairs crash open.

He tripped over himself as he scrambled from the library to the front room. Scott came to him clutching his side with one hand, Danny cradled in the other. His best friend hardly makes it through the door before he collapses into a heap. "Stiles, I didn't know where else to go," he panted, clearly in pain. "You're a witch. Maybe you can help him."

Black blood seeped from his lips, trailing down his sweet face. 'NO! Not Danny.' Stiles pulled him into his arms, and weak lidded eyes looked up at him. "W-w-wh-what happened?" he stammers as he pushes hair back from where it's matted with sweat to Danny's face. He could feel his own body start to shake.

"There was a wolf…" Scott eye contact with Danny didn't break when Scott spoke, nor when Morell walked in.

"A wolf or a werewolf?" she asked, her tone not revealing anything.

"Uh. Yeah a-uh werewolf I think."

"I don't care what it was!" Stiles shouted. "What's happening to him?!" He held Danny a little tighter to his chest when his boyfriend groaned. His shaking hands brushed over sweat covered skin, and blood starts to flow from his nose. Stiles held extended fingers reaching out like he could stop it, but nothing happens. Danny was still fighting to push out each breath as if his chest was caving in, fighting to even hold his eyes open.

"We were both bitten," Scott said as he leaned against the wall beside Stiles.

"If the bite doesn't kill you it turns you," Morell's tone was still unwaveringly calm.

"If?"