Alrighty everyone so now that I have been constantly updating, I will have to take some time off to think of a way to develop the story more. My apologies in advance if another chapter does not appear within the next couple of days. I am currently debating with several directions to take this story, and I need time to decide which one will best suit our desires. Please keep you reviews coming as I love reading your thoughts! Without further ado: Chapter 9!
Sheriff Stalinski pulled the cruiser into the driveway of his dark house. The clock on his dashboard read 2:00am. After turning the car off, the sheriff rested his head on the headrest of his seat. Christ, what a night… Reports had been filing in about disturbances in property from all over Beacon Hills, which kept him and his deputies busy for hours. It wasn't until about an hour ago that they called it quits and let the night crew handle it all. Damn delinquents… The Sheriff yawned, and climbed out of the car.
Entering the house as quietly as he could, he turned and locked the front door. Hanging up his coat and gun holster on the coatrack, the sheriff trudged up the stairs.
There was a gentle breeze outside in the cool night air and clouds had rolled overhead, obscuring the moon, leaving the interior of the house almost black as pitch. The house creaked in the breeze outside.
The sheriff stepped lightly down the hall, not wanting to wake his son with his footsteps. He paused outside of Stiles' door, his hand poised on the knob. The sheriff slowly turned the metal hand-piece. Slowly, the door opened.
The sheriff stepped into the room, only to find Stiles sleeping peacefully, his breath slow and deep, his face completely serene. This is the first time I've seen him this still in forever. The sheriff smiled. He walked over to his sleeping son, and gently rubbed the back of his head. Stiles stirred but didn't wake.
"Sweet dreams, kiddo." The sheriff whispered, and he quickly left the room to retire in his own bed. The sheriff closed the door behind him.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Derek released the breath he had been holding, and stepped from the spot in Stiles' closet in which he had ensconced himself. That was a close one. Derek said to himself. Derek lightly stepped to the bedroom door and pressed his ear against it. He heard the toilet in the master bedroom flush, and then the rustling of fabric. Then all he heard was deep breathing and eventually a solid snore.
Once satisfied that the sheriff was soundly asleep, Derek crept back to Stiles' bed and resumed his former position. He pressed his nose into the back of Stiles' neck, inhaling that wonderful scent, and felt the boy's heartbeat against his chest. Derek draped an arm lightly around the boy's waist and pulled him closer. Derek smiled. This feels so right. I haven't felt like this since… well, not since Kate. Then Derek realized, as he thought back to the sadistic bitch, that he hadn't even felt the way he did with her as he did now with Stiles. He began to lightly trace swirls onto Stiles' bare hip, and continued to inhale the rainy scent that was Stiles. Within moments, Derek slumbered contently while holding the world's most precious treasure in his arms.
xXxXxXxXxXxXx
Stiles awoke groggy and disoriented. God, I haven't slept that hard in months. There was an odd thumping noise in his ear and his pillow was unusually…solid? Then Stiles remembered last night, and his breath caught in his throat. He slowly turned his gaze upward, seeing Derek sleeping soundly.
Stiles realized his pillow had been discarded to the floor of his room, and Derek's chest was its substitute. The rhythmic thumping was his heart.
Ah shit… Stiles remembered the events of last night—the nightmare, the anger, the razor against his skin. Then Derek crossed his memory, and unfortunately, so did Stiles' emotional episode. He groaned.
Derek's eyes snapped open and he almost flung the boy off his chest in alarm.
"What?! What's wrong?!" Derek bolted upright, his eyes alert and red, his claws protruding.
"Um… sorry." Stiles blushed, as the werewolf looked back at him, surprise evident in his features.
"Stiles…" Derek returned to normal. "Um… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pass out like that." He shifted uneasily.
"Ha ha ha… yeah… it's… alright." Stiles rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Umm… I'm sorry about last night." He could think of nothing else to say.
"For what?"
"You shouldn't have had to see that." Stiles blushed deeper; the embarrassment at his own weakness appalled him. No one should've seen that.
Derek's eyes softened. "Why are you apologizing?"
"You didn't need to see me like that." Stiles muttered again.
"Stiles." Derek paused. "Stiles look at me." He waited until Stiles reluctantly complied. "Do. Not. Apologize."
Stiles reverted his gaze back to the sheets of his bed, and began fiddling with them nervously. I'm still sorry.
Silence filled the room for a long moment. Stiles gazed at his alarm clock.
6:20am.
"Wow. I really crashed." Some medicine, he thought.
"You needed it. You were exhausted." Derek replied.
"Yeah…" Awkwardness returned.
"Stiles," Derek hesitated. "I want to apologize about yesterday." Derek glanced around the room, avoiding Stiles' gaze. "I shouldn't have k—done what I did."
Stiles blinked in comprehension, the kiss echoed through his memory. "No… I'm… I'm glad you did." Wait, what? Did I just say that? Stiles looked around the room. Oh shit… I definitely just said that. His cheeks turned scarlet. He looked down, again. Oh God, shoot me now. Please, just kill me. Send a meteor, an earthquake, a nuclear bomb, anything!
"What?" Derek blinked in disbelief.
Stiles didn't reply, but only sunk beneath the sheets. I'm not here. I'm gone. I disappeared. Derek is not in my room. I'm not… Stiles almost had an aneurism. I'm in my underwear. Oh god, could this get any worse? This cannot be happening.
"Stiles?" Derek's voice murmured softly.
Stiles felt a hand grip the comforter over his head, and pulled it away deftly.
"You're heart's about to jump out of your chest." Derek remarked, a smile in his eyes.
Stiles only blushed harder. Say something, dumbass.
"You said you're glad I kissed you…" Derek smiled.
Oh. Fuck. This isn't happening.
"Didn't you?"
No hiding from it now… Stiles nodded, remaining crimson. "I…" Stiles' mind whirled to find something remotely intelligent to say. "I…uh…I'm sorry." He coughed. "About the way I acted yesterday."
"Stiles, stop apologizing about that. It happened." Derek groaned. "Now answer my question."
He isn't going to let this go is he? "Okay fine. I was. Glad, I mean." Stiles looked down again, his face on fire, and heard Derek chuckle.
Then a finger lifted his chin. Derek leaned in, and paused a centimeter from Stiles' face, his hazel eyes boring into Stiles' own.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. This is happening. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Damn.
Then Stiles felt them. Two warm lips pressed soft as silk against his own. This time, Stiles didn't pull away. He found his eyes closed, and he let go. Stiles melted into the kiss, and he felt Derek's hand gently cup his cheek.
Then it was over. Derek pulled away, and Stiles opened his eyes. Derek's eyes looked uncertain. He's wondering if I'm going to flip out again. Stiles blushed again. "You got me. Now you know."
"Stiles…"Derek whispered. "I'd like to talk about this. Like, really talk about this. Without you running away. Can we do that later?"
Stiles nodded. Hopefully I don't go batshit crazy before then.
"Okay…" Derek huffed out a sigh of relief. "I'll meet you in here after school." Derek got off the bed and headed for the window.
"I'd better get ready for school." Stiles' mind was blank.
Derek nodded. "Oh, one more thing." Derek turned from the window, and grabbed Stiles' arm, pulling the brief-clad teen into his arms.
Stiles felt Derek's arms circle around him, and another kiss was pressed against his lips. This time, he felt Derek's certainty behind the action. The intensity of the moment made Stiles weak.
Then Derek was out the window and gone. Stiles collapsed to his bed, and he brought his fingers to his lips.
That's what it feels like…Stiles marveled at the slight tingling left behind by Derek's lips. A small smile creased the corners of his mouth. That's what it feels like.
