"Stiles…" Derek breathed heavily. "Are you sure?" he asked. Because he didn't have it in him to deny himself of what Stiles was offering, of which he had only just gotten a tiny taste. Only to make sure that Stiles was certain he understood what it meant to delve in this.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

Stiles looked deep into Derek's eyes and he saw many things. He saw lust, for reasons still unknown to him. For all he knew, Derek's feelings were largely based on a younger guy fetish, which would soon be satisfied and crumble away, bringing down those feelings with it. But Derek didn't seem like that type of guy; hopefully.

There was fear too. Fear, and pain mostly. Twisting his face and his gaze in a suffering expression of desperately clinging onto a last shred of hope. Stiles guessed that it was Derek's face as he tried to tell himself to back away, and leave all of this behind. Leave Stiles and all the potential trouble he could very well be stirring up in that same instant.

"I just—"

"Derek, I swear, if you say one more thing about wanting to keep me safe I'm going to punch you in the throat."

It was Derek's turn to look into Stiles' eyes, and size him up. A punch from a human wouldn't really do much, especially from one as skinny as Stiles, but it's the thought that counts.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I just need you to understand where I'm coming from with all of this—"

"You just don't shut up, do you?" Stiles concluded and went in for another kiss. It was just to get Derek to be quiet, but Stiles wasn't going to deny that he felt like half a minute was far too long to not be kissing those lips.

And then, Stiles was giggling.

"What? What did I do?" Derek asked immediately while his eyes zipped from one corner of Stiles' face to the other in no time, trying to find some kind of indication as to why he was having a giggling fit.

"No, don't worry," Stiles wheezed. He flapped his hand in Derek's face, to soothe his worry apparently. He randomly pointed at his own face, but it was still unclear. Derek decided to wait until it was over.

"It's your stubble, I've just never kissed anybody with stubble," Stiles admitted finally. Derek frowned like a small child who had just got told that his trip to Disneyland was cancelled.

"But I like my stubble," he whined and rubbed his chin without thinking about it.

"I know, me too," Stiles cooed as he stood up, only to sit back down in Derek's lap and run a hand through his hair. "Keep it, we'll figure something out."

Derek frowned with uncertainty. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly. Stiles looked at his constricted face and picked up a more serious tone.

"No, I mean it. We'll figure it out, all of this," he said meaningfully and gestured to the whatever little space remained between them as Derek pulled him even closer by looping his arms around Stiles' waist, who, in turn, had his own arms looped around Derek's shoulders. They both sat there for a little while, even in silence. It was warm and comfortable and even a little beautiful until Derek sniffed Stiles.

"What the actual fuck was that?" Stiles demanded and enunciated with the force of a crashing meteor. "Are you into sniffing and feet and stuff?"

"No," Derek laughed. "You just smell nice in my clothes!"

"So you are into sniffing?" Stiles examined as he narrowed his eyes.

"It's just that my scent with your scent—It's like a mark, of some sort. It's a werewolf thing, don't worry about it," Derek tried to reassure him.

"A mark?"

"Yes."

"A mark… Marking what?"

"That you're with me," Derek mumbled as he blushed. "It just feels good to smell you smell like me."

Stiles smiled warmly at the top of Derek's head, while he looked down. For a big, broad, surly guy, he sure did behave like a small child a lot.

"I'm going to ignore the creepiness of all of that and conclude that it's… Endearing," Stiles announced.

After a moment's hesitation, Derek spoke.

"We should swing by the Argents', you know, and pick up your stuff. Your dad's probably called you by now."

Stiles scrunched up his nose. He didn't want to leave Derek's, but he wanted to see his father. Maybe he could make up for last night's lost dinner. And Scott, too. He slowly realized how many people could have been looking for him last night, and how very possible it would be that they were still panicking over him simply disappearing. Anyway, after he made sure there no more loose ends, he could come back here. If he didn't feel too guilty about leaving his dad alone in the house again, he could sleep over, too.

"Yeah, you're right. I doubt that my phone's made it through all of that, though."

"Oh! H—Hi, Derek! And, Stiles!" Allison sputtered as she stood at the door. Her Saturday morning was taking a rather unexpected turn as it appeared.

"Allison, hello. Sorry to show up like this, but we won't be long. I just need to talk to your father for a few minutes," Derek announced. His tone was firm, but not aggressive.

"Yeah, okay. Come in," she invited them and waved her hand, forgetting that she was holding a glass of water, and spilled some of it. Thankfully, it all fell outside.

"Oh," she stated and stared at the small puddle for a few seconds.

"Allison?" Stiles called. Her head snapped up, and she plastered on an awkward smile as she stepped aside to let them both come in. Derek muttered his thanks and followed Allison's instructions to the living room, where Chris was reading a newspaper. Stiles was about to suggest sitting in the kitchen while Derek arranged all the formalities with Chris and retrieved Stiles' possessions, but Allison cut him off.

She hugged him tight enough that he could hear his joints pop.

"Stiles, are you okay? I was so worried last night! What the hell happened?" she said in one breath as she let him go. Stiles looked her up and down. She seemed like nothing was out of the ordinary, except for her concerned face.

"Depends on how much you already know," he answered cryptically, deciding to play it smartly.

"Stiles, I pretty much know it all by know," she reassured him impatiently. He sighed, and tried to think of a beginning for his story.

"Well, Derek's the Alpha wolf," he started, not really caring about piecing everything together coherently. "And this Andrew person, he was one of his Betas, but he went wild and Derek kicked him out of the pack, so he was an Omega, right?

"But Andrew got pissed at Derek for leaving him behind so he kidnapped me and the rest of their pack so he could mess with Derek's head, but he forgot about Derek's uncle, this Peter person. He practically came to our rescue at some point, which is when I took my shot and I called you to get your dad to come save us, which he did. And here we are," Stiles shrugged, as if he were retelling the most mundane series of event he had ever had to live through. Allison thought for a second before she considered uttering any follow-up questions.

"That doesn't explain why you ran off on Derek's back after all of that was over. Or why you were there in the first place. How in the world could Andrew get to Derek through you?" she went on incredulously.

"Derek was pretty hopped up on that wolfsbane smoke thing, it messed with his head, so he didn't really know what he was doing when he took me."

She looked disbelieving.

"And the other part?"

"Which part?"

"Why did Andrew think he could get to Derek through you?" Allison repeated. Stiles considered his options. He could either say that Derek had a crush on Stiles, or make something up. But Stiles and Derek had ran off together last night, and they had showed up together this morning, and apparently Stiles meant something to Derek for Andrew to be risking kidnapping the Sheriff's son. And on top of all that, Allison was smart. She was bound to figure something out eventually. Not to mention that he was still in Derek's clothes, just a size too large.

But for now, Stiles decided it was best to respect Derek's privacy. They had only shared a few hours together. Maybe he wanted to be more certain that their relationship was more than just the after-effects of an adrenaline-filled night before they went around telling everybody.

"We worked together at the animal center. We're good friends, actually," Stiles nodded.

"You don't look like it," she provided.

"No, we really are. He's just… Kind of quirky that way."

"Stiles?" a man called. Stiles turned to see Derek and Chris approach from around the corner. Derek's expression told Stiles that neither one of them wanted to stay there a second longer.

"Yeah! Good morning, Mr. Argent," Stiles greeted as he waved haphazardly while stumbling to the front door Derek was already opening. "I'm sorry we can't stay longer, but my dad's been looking for me, you understand, right?"

Without waiting for an answer, he added, "Okay, well it's been fun, see you later!" and he slammed the door. He mimicked Derek as he jogged to the Camaro and they both jumped inside. Derek threw a plastic bag in Stiles' lap to free his hands and speedily drive away from the house.

"Okay, why are we fleeing?" Stiles asked. Derek took a second to glance at Stiles, right after he had driven a few blocks and had returned to normal driving speeds.

"You act first and ask questions later," Derek concluded. "That's a pretty good instinct for a hunter. Or a pack member."

"A pack member? Seriously? A couple of hours ago you wanted to keep me as far a way from wolves as possible!"

"I know, I know. I'm just… Casually observing the facts."

Stiles mocked him with his expression.

"So, why are we running away?"

"No, no!" Derek exclaimed "Nobody's running. We're just in a hurry to get to your worried father."

"Of course," Stiles nodded gravely. Either way, he had a decent idea himself of why they were almost literally hunted out of there. Maybe Chris was getting inquisitive, a little overly inquisitive even. Maybe there were threats being flung each other's way. Maybe Chris was even starting to trail his way towards the newfound romance that was Stiles and Derek. In any possible case, Stiles decided he didn't want to know.

From the plastic bag, he only recognized his car keys as his own.

"And, as usual, I lost my phone," he said to himself, bitterly. More accurately he tended to break his phones rather than lose them. Drop them, drown them, sit on them, step on them, drop something on them, and on one occasion run them over. He was getting sick of seeing his father's disappointed face every time he announced that it was that time of the month: the time to head down to the mall and scour the electronics department for the most durable phone available.

"Don't worry, I can get you a new one," Derek reassured him nonchalantly.

"What?" Stiles immediately barked. "No, Derek, come on. That's way too expensive, there's no need—I'll just use some of the money I've got saved up from the animal center. I haven't really been using it that much, and worst case scenario: I'll borrow some from my dad. It's really no issue."

"Yeah, right," Derek scoffed as he pulled into the parking lot opposite the animal center. He stopped diagonally across three parking spaces right next to Stiles' Jeep and unlocked the doors. He grabbed a pen from somewhere under the handbrake and the old receipt in the plastic bag, scribbling something on it.

"Here," he said, and handed the receipt to Stiles. "This is my number. If and when you get a new phone, or even before that, give me a call when you want to meet up. As far as I can tell my phone's still alive so…"

Stiles looked at the digits and gingerly picked the piece of paper out of Derek's hand. He purposefully made a lot of contact. His eyes flickered back up to meet Derek's gaze, and he thought about leaning in for a goodbye kiss, but whatever they had, it was all still very, very new and fragile and intimidating just… Indefinable. He held his urge back, too scared to wreck this up, and stepped out of the car, feeling Derek's eyes stare at his back while he dragged his feet to his Jeep.