Derek backs away slowly, leaving all but Stiles' limp hand without his touch, retreating to the bed behind them and beckoning the younger to follow.
Stiles can barely keep his eyes open, let alone focused enough to properly see Derek's wandering form. He stumbles after the fleeting palm barely touching his own, back numb and legs seemingly bloodless.
He crashed rather gracefully into the matrass, just close enough to be pulled the rest of the way on. He doesn't voice or even want to protest the position he's tugged into, head against Derek's chest as the two of them slouch propped against the headboard.
This feels good and he can't deny it. There was a sense of right like this, one he kind of felt must have been there all along.
At first, Stiles wondered if it had been the 'male' component of the whole thing that gave it this air of appropriation. But a confirmation on his feelings for Lydia dispelled that thought.
He then mused a different possibility, one that had him trying to hide his flushed cheeks in the other's shirt.
It was Derek.
Derek was the reason it felt right. Something about him just clicked when they saw each other. Of course, he had to admit, that 'click' would result in one of them- usually Derek- snapping at the other with some form of look or hopefully empty threat.
But it was that same 'click' that had him so compliantly perched against his should-be enemy's form.
"How long ago did you make that call?" Derek asked, out of the blue.
Stiles winced. "…Maybe twenty, thirty minutes ago?"
Derek remained silent for a while.
He was content this way for the time being. Somehow, this kid- Stiles, had managed to make him forget all the peril that surrounded them.
The fucking Alpha…
Everything just seemed to have fallen on him at once. Scott's change, the Alpha's presense, nearly dying, not to mention becoming Beacon Hills' most wanted. And yet here was, stroking the scalp of the sheriff's son in what should have been number one on his blacklist of locations.
"You should put your pants back on." He said without a hint of emotion, still working the tips of his fingers against the boy's head.
Stiles nodded once. "Yeah."
Neither really moved or made an attempt to get put together.
"Thirty minutes is long enough, it's just a matter of time before he shows up now."
"Yeah."
"So?"
"Wait till the bell rings."
Thank you all so much for reading. 3
I'll definitely be making more Sterek as well as other Teen Wolf fics.
-HD
((This fic takes place between the time Stiles' dad left him and (unknowingly left Derek) alone in the house. He'd already called Danny before their relation began. This ending is essentially a few minutes before Danny arrives.))
