Derek, Stiles and everything else

...and nightmares

'Or is it too soon to spend the night? Not that I don't want to. Boy, do I ever. But maybe we're moving too fast. Unless you want to,' Stiles yammered, his aching finger all but forgotten. Derek regarded him with an amused air.

'I asked you, remember?'

'Yes then. Spending the night. Here. With you. Yes, to that,' Stiles said. He didn't so much stop talking as Derek shut him up by kissing him. It was really the best way to be shushed, provided the right person was doing the kissing.

Immediately, they started to move towards the bed. Stiles didn't know whether it was Derek who was propelling them along or whether he was doing it himself. Probably a little bit of both. Like a Ouija board when there were no supernatural creatures available. Stiles was trying pretty hard not to freak out, but it was difficult.

When Derek took off his shirt, Stiles momentarily forgot about being nervous. Almost methodically, Derek removed Stiles' shirt and kissed him while pushing him down on the bed. He nosed Stiles' throat; breathing in his scent. The only points of contact were Derek's nose and mouth on the younger man's neck and Derek's thighs against his hips. Stiles wished Derek would cover him completely. He wanted to feel the weight of Derek's body on top of him.

They kissed for a while. Derek nipped gently; swiping his tongue soothingly over the faint marks his teeth left. His hands explored Stiles' body. They started at his wrists and travelled over his arms, across his shoulders, down his chest to his abdomen.

Stiles' nerves returned in full force when Derek teased the end of his belt out of the first loop and began to unbuckle Stiles' pants. This is happening, Stiles marvelled; this is really happening. He gulped, like cartoonishly loud; as if there should be a tiny balloon with the word 'GULP' above his head. Derek's hands, curled around the belt and feeling wonderfully warm against Stiles' skin, paused.

'What's wrong?' he asked. Stiles scrambled into an upright position. They were now both on their knees on the bed, facing each other. Derek's fingers slid tantalisingly slow out from underneath Stiles' belt.

'Uhm, I have to admit that when you asked me if I wanted to spend the night I'd hoped that this would happen. Because spending the night doing this with you would be awesome. I just feel that before awesomeness ensues I need to tell you that I have sort of, not by design mind you, never done this before. And by this, I don't mean specifically this,' Stiles clarified, frantically waving a hand between the two of them.

'I mean sex in general. I haven't had any yet whatsoever. I'm a virgin,' Stiles concluded, cringing. If there was a prize for the most clumsily delivered 'I'm a virgin' speech then this was a sure-fire winner. Was this a deal breaker? Stiles tried to read Derek's expression, but it remained inscrutable.

'I don't know why I'm surprised. Your people skills are non-existent,' Derek finally said. He sat back on his heels, swinging one leg out from under him and stepped off the bed. Sex was clearly off the menu for tonight as far as Derek was concerned. Stiles sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment.

'Seriously? You of all people are seriously ragging on my people skills?' Stiles protested. Derek collected their T-shirts from the floor. Was he going to send Stiles home now? Did no sex equal not spending the night?

'Can I still stay?' Stiles asked, getting to his feet a lot less gracefully than Derek had. The older man knit his brows.

'Do you wanna?'

Stiles shrugged, affecting a nonchalance that he really, really didn't feel. Yeah, he wanted to. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with Derek. He wanted to lie next to Derek, fall asleep listening to Derek's breathing and wake up to Derek's bad temper. He wanted the good and the bad and the fun and the boring and the pleasure and the pain. He wanted everything. Hell yeah, he wanted to stay.

'Sleeping together might be nice,' Stiles nodded. Derek groaned.

'Okay, we can sleep,' he acceded.

'Thanks.'

'Yeah, yeah. Just cover yourself up, for fuck's sake,' Derek said gruffly, tossing Stiles his shirt. Quickly, Stiles pulled it over his head. Derek was about to put his own shirt back on when Stiles made another request.

'Can you keep your shirt off, though?'

Derek hesitated.

'Can you keep your hands to yourself?'

'I solemnly swear that there'll be no inappropriate touching,' Stiles promised, standing to attention with his right hand over his heart. Derek dropped his shirt and sat on the edge of the bed. He started to take off his shoes. Stiles dug his phone out of his pocket.

'I have to call Scott,' he announced, his thumb landing on his best friend's name. 'By the way, you're gonna have to get a TV if you expect me to spend any time here.'

That was such a lie, but he had to say something because Derek was undressing and, Jesus, Derek was undressing. Now down to only his boxers, Derek flopped down on the bed.

'I think I can keep you entertained,' Derek said, smirking. I bet you can, Stiles thought, padding away from temptation. Scott picked up on the first ring.

'Stiles, hi.'

'Hi. Scott, I told my dad that I'm staying over at your place. Okay?'

'Sure,' Scott agreed. He didn't ask what Stiles needed the alibi for and Stiles didn't offer. He was too busy staring at Derek. He ended the call, not even realising that he'd forgotten to thank Scott or say goodbye. Derek was under the sheets and Stiles joined him after getting rid of unnecessary – excluding shirt and underwear - clothes.

'Show me how you're going to keep me entertained.'

(***)

Saturday. 03: 21.

Stiles woke up in a cold sweat. Next to him, Derek stirred. Stiles froze. He didn't want to disturb Derek.

'Stiles, what was that?'

Shit. And his throat was too dry for a decent dismissive chuckle.

'Nothing. Just, you know, a good old disembowelment dream. Hadn't had one of those in a while,' Stiles revealed, desperately playing down how much the dream had scared him. He shook his head to banish it from his mind, but it lingered unpleasantly. The agony and fear had been so vivid. He rolled onto his side. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark.

'Does this happen a lot?' Derek inquired. His voice was hoarse from sleep. Stiles could just about make out the outline of Derek's face. It was comforting in its closeness.

'What's a lot?'

'Good point.'

'No, seriously. Define a lot,' Stiles demanded. Something touched his chest. The first thing that sprung to mind was: spider. Derek didn't exactly strike him as the type to vacuum and dust and spiders probably loved his apartment. Luckily, Stiles reacted by lying absolutely still instead of shrieking like a little girl, because the spider turned out to be Derek's fingers. They caressed his chest.

'How often do you have nightmares?'

'I wouldn't call that a nightmare,' Stiles admitted, feeling Derek scoot closer. Soon the older man was wrapped around him. Who knew that Derek Hale could cuddle like a champion? Stiles talked about the real nightmares then. The ones about his mother and his father and Scott. About horrible things happening to the people he loved. He explained why those dreams were the worst. He could handle hurting. He could not handle watching. Dream Stiles was a lot like Awake Stiles in that respect. Derek didn't say anything. He just held him tighter.

'You're breaking your own rule,' Stiles pointed out.

'Shut up,' Derek grunted, smashing their mouths together. Stiles melted into the kiss. His body was fine with shutting up, but his damn brain evidently wasn't.

'You really don't mind that we're not gonna...?'

'I like kissing you,' Derek told him and that was that.