Chapter 4

"Well this is it. Home sweet home," Stiles grinned just happy to have made it home after almost losing Derek once. Oh God…,Stiles thought, What was he even saying? He made it sound like Derek was a puppy he was bringing home from the pound. A small part of Stiles wished Derek was a puppy; at least than he'd be easier to take care of. Stiles checked his watch and saw that it was around noon and his stomach could testify to that.

Stiles walked into his house, with Derek following close behind. He seemed to be scrutinizing every inch of his house, glancing first at the kitchen on their left and then straight ahead to the small living room with a couch and TV.

Had Derek not recognized Stiles' initial lack of trust in the car and put Stiles' fears to rest, he would have suspected Derek was looking for the easiest escape root. Stiles still wasn't sure whether he should believe Derek because he was still a criminal, but he needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even though the guy's dark, brooding eyes gave nothing away regarding his intentions, be they good or bad, but Stiles still did not want Derek to think of him as the bad guy.

Stiles continued to walk in, throwing open one of his haphazardly organized cabinets to show Derek where the plates and cups were. "So I don't really know what you like to eat but you can help yourself to anything that's in the fridge. Later we can go to the store and get you some food. Whatever you want, it's my treat," Stiles smiled at Derek who suddenly seemed a lot more interested now that food was involved. As if on cue Derek's stomach growled loud enough for Stiles, who was standing a few feet away, to hear. His smile grew as Derek gave him an almost apologetic wince. "Geez did they feed you at all?", Stiles laughed, only realizing a moment too late how insensitive that sounded.

The smile that was starting to form on Derek's lips faded as quickly as it had come. His eyes seemed to glaze over as he looked away from Stiles. Stiles had just enough time to register the almost terrified look on Derek's face, before it was gone.

Derek's whole demeanor seemed to change in an instant. "Oh they fed us plenty," he replied, letting out a low laugh as a smile spread through his face once again. This smile was different though, and not in a good way. "Actually I got fed double."

"Why is that exactly," Stiles squeaked as he backed up slowly, getting closer to the kitchen counter.

"My cellmate pissed me off, so I ripped his throat out, "Derek paused and he looked like he was done speaking, but then his smile grew even bigger and he added "with my teeth." He looked almost predatory at this point and Stiles was half a second away from peeing his pants. No amount of training could have prepared him for Derek 'I ripped my cell mate's throat out with my teeth for kicks' Hale.

"Um ok well we have plenty of food here so there will be no need for ripping anyone's throat out. I actually kind of prefer my throat where it is," Stiles spoke so fast he wasn't sure it was even coherent. He squirmed and took one more step back leaning against the counter for support.

Without saying anything further Derek took a few steps forward, closing the space between them. Stiles was nearly pinned against the counter at this point, only a few inches separating him and Derek. Stiles tried to move further away, but just ended up digging his back into the counter. Derek leaned in closer right next to Stiles' ear and huskily said "So what do you have to eat?" A chill shot through Stiles at the sound of Derek's voice and suddenly they were way too close. Stiles' mind was racing with thoughts that really were not appropriate while standing with a convicted murderer, especially one that was now his responsibility; and he seriously doubted the growing problem in his pants was going to make matters better.

Trying to stop his rapidly rising situation, Stiles responded "That's a really good question. I'm going to go check." Stiles tried to maneuver his way around Derek somehow hoping he hadn't noticed Stiles' problem, but the guy was huge. There must be a pretty good weight lifting program in prison because seriously Derek was a brick wall. "I just," Stiles pointed to his left where the fridge was. Derek seemed to understand and after another moment he took a few steps back. Stiles briskly walked toward the fridge and opened it and with his back turned to Derek he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. He allowed himself a full thirty seconds to get himself back under control while he pretended to be picking something out from the miniscule amount of food he had. Putting on his serious face-similar to the one his dad used to use when Stiles did something stupid-he turned back around to face Derek.

Derek had moved behind Stiles, pretending to be picking something out of the fridge and smirking. Stiles couldn't tell if Derek had noticed his obvious boner but Derek's smirk seemed to say loud and clear that he had figured it out. The guy was full on smirking at Stiles like he was pleased that he had just made Stiles squirm. Suddenly Derek was sliding next to Stiles and reaching into the lacking fridge and pulling out a frozen meat lover's pizza. He turned to Stiles in silent question, arching an eyebrow. "Good choice," Stiles said offering a smile. "By the sound of your stomach I don't know if you can wait, but it's going to take 15-20 minutes," Stiles joked.

All Derek said in response was "I can wait," and Stiles wasn't going to argue. He put the pizza in the oven and turned it on high praying the pizza would cook faster so they could have something to do besides stand in complete utter silence. Stiles seriously considered trading in his criminal for a more talkative one because Derek had to be the least talkative person he knew. Granted most of Stiles' friends were very outspoken like Scott or Lydia, but that isn't the point right now. The point is that he is standing in his kitchen with Derek Hale, convicted murderer, in the most uncomfortable silence he's ever been in. Not to mention he was fidgeting like a child who has just told a lie to his parents. He started pacing trying to expel some of the pent up energy.

"So," Stiles said trying to make the waiting more bearable. "It's not very big but I've got a guest room," Stiles mentioned for a lack of something better to say. "I can show you it now if you're not busy," Stiles blurted realizing that of course Derek wasn't busy. Trying to redeem himself Stiles sassed "Uh, I mean if you would prefer to stay here and stare at the wall or maybe the ground –"

"No," Derek snarled looking thoroughly pissed off "We can go see it. And for the record at least I don't look like the crazy one." Stiles stopped pacing and looked at Derek giving him one of his 'that hurts' faces, which normally consisted of an open mouth, a hand spread across his chest, and his eyebrows raised in fake hurt.

"Sure I'm the crazy one," Stiles retorted without thinking. The words had left his mouth before he even had a chance to think and for a moment, Stiles thought he had gone too far. However, it was a mere ten second wait of agonizing anxiety before he saw Derek's mouth twitch up in an almost smile. Smirking inwardly to himself, Stiles decided he would count that as yet another win.

Stiles led the way to the bedroom, which wasn't too far considering the size of his apartment. Opening the door on his right Stiles walked into the tiny space. He figured Derek wouldn't mind the small room considering his previous living space. Derek walked in right behind Stiles; his seemingly perpetual scowl remained unchanging.

"So this is it. It's not much but at least you have a view," Stiles joked as he pointed to the window with closed shades. Derek tilted his head slightly and walked towards the window, opening the shades to reveal a brick wall and an alley with a green dumpster and a swarm of flies.

Derek let out a huff of breath that Stiles could only interpret as a laugh. After another moment of scanning the ally, Derek closed the blinds and went to sit down on the bed. Noticing that the bed was completely bare of sheets, Stiles rushed to the closet, rambling the whole way, "Oh I guess I forgot to put sheets on the bed. I'll just-"

"No I can do it.," Derek said more harshly than necessary, cutting off the constant flow of words from Stiles' mouth. Seeing Stiles' startled and slightly hurt expression, Derek let out a sigh and seemed to deflate a little. "In prison we …" Derek trailed off but the intended ending was clear enough. Stiles looked down at the ground awkwardly not knowing what to say. It wasn't everyday that Stiles had to deal with an ex prisoner with communication issues and a troubled past.

Not knowing what to say, or if he should say anything, Stiles just nodded his head in response and mumbled, "So I'm just going to let you… uh… do whatever it is you do and go check on lunch," Stiles softly placed the sheets on the ground and backed out of the room. Derek didn't seem to notice – or care – that Stiles was leaving as he got up to grab the sheets that lay crumpled on the ground. Stiles hesitated at the edge of the room, hand on the door knob. He contemplated closing the door, still cautious with Derek after what he had named 'the parking lot incident.' Finally deciding that if he ever wanted Derek to trust him, he would have to learn to trust Derek, Stiles set his mouth in a firm line, and stepped into the hallway. He grasped the knob and closed the door.

Stiles went into the kitchen and started pacing again. It took him all of 5 minutes before thoughts came flooding in. It wasn't like he was worried about Derek running. He said he wasn't going to run and Stiles had no reason not to believe him, besides the fact that he is a convicted murderer the ever irritating voice of reason in the back of his mind argued. Stiles started walking back toward Derek's room, convincing himself that he just wanted to make sure the sheets were put on right because if they were put on wrong they weren't comfortable and would fall off. Thoroughly convinced he was doing the right thing Stiles approached Derek's door.

Stiles lifted his hand to knock when the door abruptly flew open, revealing what looked like a very pissed off Derek. He glowered at Stiles probably hoping to scare him away with his menacing green eyes and ridiculously chiseled jaw line. Stiles thought about backing down, thinking back to what Allison and Lydia had said, but Stiles never was good at following directions. Wordlessly, Stiles and Derek locked eyes for a moment fighting for dominance. Stiles heart was racing as he realized he didn't actually have anything to say to Derek, who seemed to notice that too and raised an eyebrow in silent question. "Do you need something," Derek asked mimicking an innocent voice.

"I, uh," Stiles fumbled. "Wanted to make sure the sheets were ok because you know if they're put on wrong they fall off and make a mess. Who wants messy sheets? Not Stiles. Nope. I mean it's not like we'll be sleeping in the same bed. I've got my own room across from yours, so we won't um need to share but uh," Stiles babbled and tried not to look away from Derek's harsh gaze. He couldn't believe he had just talked about sharing a bed with Derek Hale. Derek seemed to think the whole thing was very amusing if the smirk on his face was anything to go by. He was looking at Stiles with a mix of amusement and a hint of confusion.

The confusion meant one of two things; either Derek didn't understand a word of Stiles' gibberish or he had caught Stiles using his nickname. It wasn't like Stiles was trying to hide his nickname from Derek, but he had wanted to keep things semi professional; well as professional as living with a parole officer could be for a criminal. Just as Stiles was about to say something about it the kitchen timer went off and brought them both out their thoughts. Stiles jumped noticeable as the timer broke silent staring contest that seemed to be happening. A smile spread across Derek's face at Stiles' reaction as he leaned down until their faces were mere inches apart and huskily whispered, "Aren't you going to go get that… Stiles?"

Stiles nodded frantically, not quite trusting himself to respond. He turned away from Derek and started toward the kitchen as Derek followed closer than strictly necessary. Once in the kitchen Stiles grabbed the pizza from the oven and turned around to grab a plate and nearly collided with the brick wall that is Derek Hale. "Oh God," Stiles squealed. "Personal space just isn't in your repertoire is it?" Stiles half joked even though he was scared of the answer. "No forget it I don't want to know the answer to that," Stiles quickly backpedaled as Derek opened his mouth to respond with something that would undoubtedly once again leave Stiles scrambling to remember how to form sentences.

Derek closed his mouth and smirked, but started to back up. "That's right," Stiles began "If I'm harboring your fugitive ass it's my house, my rules buddy." Obviously responding well to a confident assertion of dominance, Derek nodded his head and gave Stiles his space. Stiles smiled triumphantly, but tried not to make eye contact, as Derek's stormy green eyes were still as menacing as always.

Stiles turned his attention back to the pizza, cutting it into 8 slices. After cutting the pizza Stiles placed it on the table and noticed Derek standing, hands in his pockets, looking oddly uncomfortable for the first time since they got home. Stiles felt a twinge of sympathy for the guy. After all, he had just been in prison and now he had been whisked away to some cop's house who he has never met before and for all he knew, hated him. But Stiles didn't hate Derek.

Trying to ease the tension Stiles laughed, "If I wanted someone who was going to stand around, eat all my food and judgmentally stare at my house I would have invited my dad over," he said teasingly. "Do you think you can manage to grab drinks from the fridge," Stiles said, with a drop of sarcasm. Derek scowled but went to the fridge and pulled out two cans of Coke.

He brought them back to the table and set them down, again looking out of place. Stiles stomach let out a loud growl telling him it was definitely time for dinner. He grabbed the plates and sat down noticing that Derek was still standing. "Dude I'm not going to bite," Stiles laughed while grabbing a piece of the meaty pizza.

"I like standing," was all Derek said.

Stiles threw Derek a skeptical look, but decided it wasn't worth the effort and continued eating. Derek, obviously not caring what Stiles thought, grabbed a slice and continued standing. Stiles continued to eat his pizza while Derek stood on the opposite side of the table thoroughly enjoying the meal. Stiles could tell Derek was doing his best to eat slowly, but it was clearly an effort to do so. After practically inhaling a slice Derek picked up his coke and greedily drank it. A pang of guilt hit Stiles because he was the reason Derek had been living off of crappy prison food for longer than what should be legal. To Stiles, coke and pizza were not luxuries but necessities. Stiles reminded himself that he was not the sole reason Derek was deprived, but he worked with the people that put Derek Hale and others like him in prison. And for a moment, watching Derek stand in his kitchen eating pizza, it was easy to forget why.

Shaking himself out of that train of thought, Stiles put down his pizza, suddenly losing his appetite. Standing up awkwardly he excused himself, "I'm actually not feeling so hungry anymore, so I'm going to take a shower," Stiles used his thumb to point in the direction of his bedroom "and you just keep…," Stiles motioned with his hands for Derek to keep eating. Derek gave a little nod in Stiles direction and moved on to what had to be his third piece.

Stiles walked through his living room and into his bedroom, glancing back at Derek. Derek had abandoned his standing position and was now lounging in the chair next to where Stiles had been sitting. Stiles observed how comfortable Derek looked now that he was gone. Stiles wasn't sure whether he should be insulted by Derek's immediate and obvious ease in response to Stiles' absence, but what he was sure of was that he wanted Derek to trust him. He couldn't explain why but Derek wasn't just another criminal; he was someone Stiles wanted to shelter and that, well that was just scary. Stiles had never felt this attached to anyone before and the guy didn't even like him.

Stiles went into his bathroom, with all these thoughts racing through his head. He turned on the shower, making a vow to himself. He was going to get Derek to trust him.