So I thought I would continue with this story. I don't know if you like or not yet, but I hope so.
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or the characters. I just like them a lot!
Chapter 4:
Stiles supposed if there was a guy he'd actually get with, it would probably be Derek Hale. He observed him directly on his exit from the shower, uncertain exactly how a guy with a body like that only scored around five percent of the votes on their friends' Sexiest Man contest, while he scored over seventy percent, himself; he almost felt he had to apologize. He'd say to Derek, I'd have voted for you. I did vote for you.
He admittedly inwardly that even while he'd only ever felt attracted to women, there was something mesmerizing in watching him disrobed, clear streamlets of water glittering down the tanned expanse of his sculpted chest. Surely everyone understood that…?
He'd got in the shower after Derek, still catching glimpses of his towel in the bedroom where he was drying his hair, vague, familiar motions somewhere in the background. He hoped there was some hot water left, where they were you'd run out very fast.
It was evening, there were going to watch some films, at least the heating worked well; Stiles had got a towel round his waist and stepped out, uselessly combing his hair at the sink. Derek already was dressed; he stepped in behind him, carrying a football helmet. "Move your arms," he asked, and Stiles chuckled in confusion, he dodged a little but stood still when Derek asked a second time. Derek very gingerly placed the helmet on his head and stood back, observing as though deep in thought.
"You'd definitely have to wear that," he concluded, and Stiles gently adjusted the helmet, it was a bit lopsided to the left. "Only that?" he laughed, and Derek stood back with his arms crossed, like he were weighing it in mind, "Only that and you have to say, Kneel…!"
"Thought you'd want me in handcuffs," Stiles said, now taking the helmet off, "and that, you know—."
"Nah," Derek said, "Never really liked handcuffs."
"Gentle guy after all," Stiles replied, finally walking into the bedroom. He carefully placed the helmet on the bed before proceeding to dress, his short hair now even messier than before.
They'd been halfway through the movie when Stiles spontaneously asked, "Does she really?"
Like he didn't know, Like Kate hadn't said the same thing to him several weeks ago.
Derek turned his gaze momentarily to him, then to the TV again. "Yeah," he said plainly, voice somehow soft. "She does."
Silence.
"And what, does she want it recorded? Like with your phone or something?"
Derek laughed. "She'd probably like that," he said, eyes still on the screen.
After several moments more, he turned back to Stiles, deliberately smiling. "Nah, I won't be recor –," He stopped mid-sentence, laughing fully now, head tilted back—because there he was actually considering it.
Stiles leaned back on the couch, also laughing, one hand rubbing his chin.
Derek wouldn't be the type of guy who'd just bang you; Stiles imagined he'd take proper care of him after; they were brothers, after all. He'd probably spoon with him after, kiss him behind the ear, all the stuff Stiles would have done with a woman, which now he tried to imagine being done to him.
Shit! They both were actually considering it now.
"You're really thinking about it," Stiles said with and incredulous smile, "you're really thinking of doing it."
Derek raised an eyebrow; he turned to face Stiles from where he was watching TV.
"Well, yeah…!" he laughed, his voice came low and deep.
The smiles remained plastered to their faces for several minutes, like they didn't know what to do with them; they regarded each other as the full weight of the matter slowly sank in.
"Alright," Stiles finally said, like were any challenge he was willing to try, "and she's really ok with this?"
Derek's expression grew a bit serious; his eyes darted over Stiles' face and he nodded slowly, uncertain now that the matter required his consent. "Yeah," he said very softly, "yeah, she is."
Silence.
The TV still on, discordant some distance away; vague sound of nighttime animals making their nightly sounds. An owl flew past the window.
"C'mere," Stiles' voice came low, he leaned sideward to face Derek on the couch. Derek hesitated; he blinked, met Stiles' gaze, hands still in his lap; then he moved in to close the small distance between them.
He hadn't kissed anyone with such experimental curiosity since he was a kid.
A/N: So they kissed! But what else will they do? Stay tuned…