Chapter 2: Friction and Desire

Previously on Harmless: Out of no where he was on his back, Derek's hand wrapped around his throat. His alpha-red eyes staring directly at him, his breathing laboured, and his canines fanged

"Happy to see me," Stiles said, gasping through his tightened throat.

Derek took several moments to calm himself. "What are you doing here, Stiles," Derek said, his voice untoned by his werewolven base.

"It's just since." Stiles paused. "Since the pool I haven't been able to stop." He blushed. "Never mind, I'll just go." He tried to lift himself up, but Derek kept him firmly against the ground.

"How'd you find us," Derek asked.

"I got Danny to track Erica. I figured you'd have to stash away somewhere remote that even the Argents wouldn't assume you'd go."

Derek released his grip, but kept his hand lightly against Stiles' throat. "What were you saying about the pool?" He was menacing, Stiles could hear the deepness to his voice and could smell his cedar scent from the small distance between them.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," Stiles blurted out, surprising even himself. He turned his head away from Derek, embarrassed, before the werewolf with his freehand forced Stiles' head back so that they were face to face — vis-à-vis. Stiles couldn't help his blush blooming further across his face. Derek stared intently at him. Stiles could feel now just how different Derek's temperature was in comparison to his own. Silence passed for moments, long enough for Stiles to start to fidget.

"Thank you," Derek said.

"Thank you?" Stiles sputtered out confused, the werewolf had never once thanked him for anything, even when he had practically saved his life when he was shot by a wolfsbane bullet.

"Thank you for saving my life."

Stiles tore his gaze from Derek's and muttered, "It was nothing."

A smile appeared on Derek's face, or what Stiles assumed was his best attempted at a smile. It was more of a cross between a smirk and a grin. Furthermore, just like Stiles he had been experiencing the same inability to stop thinking of the human. The way he fidgets became cute, his silly smile attractive, and Stiles' boldness. Throughout their acquaintance Stiles had always done something bold whether it be standing up against Peter Hale to save Lydia or stand up against both Derek and Scott when they were wolfing out. The teen was definitely bold. Since the pool, Derek had never felt so helpless. Depending upon another to keep himself alive; he hadn't been in need of someone else's help since his parents were alive. Since then he had always been alone, particularly after his sister's death; depending on no one else but himself. These feelings brought forth were odd, something that he never once thought he'd have. He had always felt that Stiles needed protecting, that as Scott's best friend he would be the best way to include Scott in their pack, and not to mention that Stiles had on numerous occasions been rather useful, with his father being the Sheriff, or always risking himself when it benefitted his friends.

Derek unwrapped his fingers from Stiles' throat, whom instantly scrambled to his feet. Embarrassed, Stiles ran towards the exit, not check back to see if the alpha was following him. When he reached the ladder he looked backward, no one had followed. He climbed back up to the surface, wasting no time to get back to his car. He sat there in the driver's seat for what seemed like forever. How could he have been so stupid, why had he wasted his time going there. Why did he risk his own life to come and tell Derek that he was obsessing about him. He grew angry with himself and started the engine, turning the key angrily in the ignition. He threw his hand against the passenger side front seat and backed out of the alley.

He drove aimlessly for thirty minutes not sure where to go. He didn't want to go home, and his phone kept buzzing, but he didn't bother to look at it. He just drove. Without realizing it he was driving into the cemetery and practically threw himself out of his car. He ran threw, following a familiar path.

"Mum," Stiles whispered. He sat down next to a tombstone.

"Dad's well. He works a lot, and I'm sure he's been mad at me a couple of times because Scott, you know my best friend I told you about the last time I visited. He's a werewolf, unbelievable huh? He's with a werewolf hunter, or at least her family is. Alison Argent. Speaking of loves. Lydia, the girl I've had a crush on since third grade will never love me. Even after everything." Stiles paused and looked around, checking for the signs of anyone living.

"Mum, I'm have feelings about someone, you know Derek Hale. His family died in that fire. I've never had these feelings before. They're confusing, mum. Do you think." His voice thickened, he was on the verge of tears. "Do you think dad would understand? I don't even know if it's attraction that I'm feeling. I should ask Danny. He'd know? Wouldn't he mum?" He thrust his face into his cupped hands, "I just don't know what I'm feeling. To make matters worse I just admitted it to Derek. I need to go."

Stiles picked himself off the ground said his goodbyes before walking back to his jeep. He texted Danny — again. He was probably gonna be pissed, and yet Danny replied immediately. They were to meet for coffee and when Stiles arrived Danny was waiting. The coffee house was local and was very quaint, with wire chairs and tables outside. It was fairly early in the morning still and so there was only a few groups of people inside. They brought their lattes outside and sat down at a table face to face.

"Finally going to fill me in on why you had me track a cellphone earlier this morning?" Danny asked.

"Sort of. I've got questions for you though," Stiles said.

"Well how about you answer mine, I believe you owe me that."

"Fine." Stiles paused, thinking what he was going to say. "I was looking for Derek Hale."

"Yes, your 'cousin' Miguel."

"Sorry." Stiles winced. "About that."

"No worries. Did you find him?"

"Yes."

"Expand, please," Danny prodded.

"Well it has to do with my questions, but first I need you to swear that you won't repeat anything you hear."

"I promise, now spill."

"How did you know you were gay?"

The question caught Danny off guard, he nearly choked on his coffee. "It took longer than I care to admit. For the longest time I couldn't come to terms with it. I had read online about all the problems facing gay teenagers throughout America. I didn't want to be a victim. Soon it became too hard to keep hiding a part of myself. It started with Jackson; I told him and to my surprise he was fine with it. I never felt attracted to Jackson, he was my friend not someone I wanted to sleep with, but others." Danny laughed. "Others I wanted to jump right then and there."

"It's just I feel so confused. I've always loved Lydia, but..."

"She never returned your feels," Danny offered.

"Exactly, and Derek... Well I don't know how he feels."

"Sounds like you could be bisexual."

"Thanks, Danny. I owe," Stiles said, jumping up from his seat and running to his car. His keys slipped through his hands and landed underneath the car. He clambered to get his keys, while Danny laughed.

In no time Stiles was back in the same alley around noon. His head was spinning from all that Danny had said, and all that he was realizing about himself. He ran through the warehouse, afraid he would lose his nerve. He virtually slid down the ladder and ran into the main chamber of Derek's lair. He wondered where Derek was, but before he could complete the thought Isaac, Eric, and Boyd were surround him, their eyes glowing wolfishly.

"What are you doing here?" Eric growled.

"I'm here to talk to Derek," Stiles said, somehow mustering an authoritative voice.

"Talk to us instead," Isaac said.

"Do I have to repeat myself — I. Want. To. Speak. With. Derek. Or is that too confusing for you wolves," Stiles heatedly said prompting the wolves to growl.

"Enough!" Derek shouted. He calmed, "What are you doing here again, Stiles?"

"I came to see you," Stile said. He coughed, "Alone."

Derek growled, forcing his betas to make their way out of the complex. "Done."

Stiles came towards the larger man quickly causing some panic in Derek's eyes, he didn't want to kill anyone innocent. Stiles was inches from Derek, whom let the teen linger there. Stiles stood on his tiptoes and planted a kiss on a surprised Derek. He swiftly gripped Stiles arms, but didn't push Stiles away. His firm lips became soft under the pressure of Stile's. Derek took control, his tongue darted out between his lips wetting Stiles' before forcing his way into the teen's welcoming mouth. Derek explored Stiles' mouth only coming to stop and intermingling their tongues. Stiles let a moan escape him, Derek's hands tightened and lifted the teen up. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek's waist before the werewolf let his hands go so that he could wrap them around the wolf's neck. He ran a hand up Derek's neck, interlacing his figures into the man's hair. He pulled at the hair, pushing a growl from Derek's throat. It resonated within Stiles seductively hardening the bulge in his pants. He ground against Derek's firm sculpted body. The werewolf smiled through their kisses, giving him the opportunity to take in Stiles lower lip into his mouth, suckling. Derek strode through the doors of the subway cab, going straight through the opposite side doors, and then through several sets of doors. He slid several bolts shut, easily removing an arm to do so. Stiles grew impatient and lightly bit down onto Derek's upper lip eliciting a full fledge deep growl that sent the teens hormones gunning.

Through frantic tonguing and kisses, Stiles could barely see that they had entered a makeshift bedroom. A mattress had been elevated off the ground by wooden slats and had been sheeted. He had a couple of pillows, a new looking IKEA dresser, and only a few photographs were taped to the wall.

Derek lowered them both on to his makeshift bed at which point Stiles could feel the werewolf's bulge pressed against him. Derek was now above him, holding Stiles hands above his head and straddling him, pressing themselves into each other, grinding shamelessly. The werewolf's hot breath dust over the teen's neck, trailing kisses and nips down his throat, blemishing the flesh as he went.

A cellphone ring pierced through, it rung once before the tone changed to a customized ring. Stiles tried to lift his hand to reach his phone, but Derek held him fast.

"Leave it!" Derek roared. He looked directly into Stiles eyes, his own red.

"We wouldn't want my dad tracking my phone," Stiles said somewhat sarcastically, but Derek took him seriously. He released one of Stiles hands.

"Sorry put my phone down," Stiles answered.

Derek could hear the conversation on the other end of the cellphone.

"I had some time for lunch and went home. Thought you'd be around, where are you?" Sheriff Stilinski said.

"Visited mum's grave, I'll be home shortly."

Derek's face grew angry.

"No rush. You alright, need me to pick you up?"

"No, no, dad. I'm not having an attack or anything. I'm on my way." Stiles hung up his cellphone.

Derek pouted rather devilishly, or at least that was the way Stiles took it. He forced Stiles free hand back up before planting another forceful kiss against Stiles' lips before pushing himself off the bed. He growled out of frustration. Stiles could see just how desperately he wanted him, but before he could say anything Derek pushed away his dresser from the wall unveiling a rather large whole in the wall. Meanwhile Stiles himself was vastly disappointed, but what could he do his dad had brought him back to reality.

"This'll lead you out," Derek said, enjoying the shock on Stiles' face. "Did you really think I would have only one way out. For someone so smart, your stupid."

"You can't blame me for thinking you're a himbo," Stiles said sarcastically. Derek seemed less than impressed. "What! I've said it once and I'll say it again, sarcasm is my only defence." He averted his eyes to the ground, blushing. Stiles jumped through the whole, and just before leaving, Derek yelled, "Cover the hatch up with leaves."

"I'll be back," Stiles said shyly.

"You better, or I'll hunt you down."

Stiles raced down the tunnel, thinking just how much of a cock block his cellphone was, not to mention his father. He loved his dad, but damn he felt pent up. He sighed rather exasperatedly, as he calmed down from the high. He heard from down the passage Derek covering up the hole again, and punching a wall, expending the bridled energy he hadn't been able to direct into Stiles.

The pathway led out into the forest surrounding the area, it had probably been used as storage shaft years ago. They would always have vents and hatches for easy access to storage. Another ladder until he was back up on the surface. It took him a moment to get his bearings before he ran off to his car, covering the hatch with leaves before he went. He had done a lot of running today, and it wasn't doing wonders for him. He was tired by the time he reached his car, it was nearly one thirty. It had felt like ages while him and Derek were at it, as if they had spent the entire afternoon interlaced. He was brought back to reality. He threw his hands against the wheel, "Fuck!"

By the time he was back home his father had made lunch, a couple rather enormous sandwiches that looked absolutely to die for. He sat down opposite his father, taking about out of sandwich. He hadn't been aware before, particularly when he was with Derek, but he was starving. He practically inhaled his food, his dad, however, observed him. His son's cloths were wrinkled, as if he had been laying down in his clothes. His father noticed that Stiles kept adjusting his shirt, the teen could feel his bruised flesh. Oh he hoped that his father couldn't see any of it. He would only have questions.

"Did you bring flowers to the grave," Mr. Stilinski asked his son.

"No, it wasn't planned I just went," Stiles said.

"Not that I don't think visiting is a good idea, but what brought it on?"

"I was thinking about her, and it helps to go and talk."

"You know that you can always talk to me."

"I know dad. It's just idle talking."

"Well I'm off to work again," the Sheriff said standing from his seat. "Might want to be careful with lacrosse with your neck and all. It's dangerous."

Stiles smiled, and when he heard his dad close the door behind himself he ran to the bathroom. A large purple bruise was hidden partially by his shirt. Stiles couldn't help but blush imagining what his father was thinking. Regardless, he wanted to see Derek, they had things to finish. Unfortunately the realization, or at least the potential of the ephemeral feelings they had shared. Maybe it was out of the rush and flash of emotions that pushed Derek to reciprocate. He didn't know. He desperately wanted Derek. He wanted the werewolf by him right then and there.

Stiles went to the door, pulling on his jacket, just as the doorbell rang. He quickly answered. Scott stood on the front porch.

"Thought I'd use the door this time," Scott said. "I know how much you hate when I use the window."

"Thank you. So what's up?"

"I've been texting you all morning, where have you been?"

"Dealing with dad, he's been noticing that I've been coming home at all hours, because I really get into that much trouble," Stiles said sarcastically. "What have you found out?" Stiles readjusted his jacket and shirt, hoping that Scott hadn't noticed Derek's nips. "It's usually me who finds things out, I'm glad Alison is having a positive effect on you."

"Yeah, she's been great. We've been searching for her grandfather's bestiary and we've trolled the internet for Kanima. So far we've only found about the bestiary. It's just gonna be hard to get it."

"I'm sure Alison and you'll find a way."

Scott's cellphone rang and he withdrew it from his pockets. "Hello? Mom, I. Okay, I'll be right there."

"Apparently, if I get to the hospital I can borrow the car. I've got go."

Scott waved goodbye as he got on his bicycle and practically tore down the street. Stiles stood there nearly laughing, watching until his friend turned the corner. He got into his jeep and drove to the florist. The florist that owned the shop for years and was always very kind to Stiles and his family. His mother always loved calla lilies and sunflowers. His mother always had flowers in the home, sitting on the breakfast table, in her room, in the foyer, and in the living room. Everywhere she touched the air of springtime would follow. He bought a dozen of each and a couple bottles of water.

He got out of his vehicle and walked to his mother's grave again. Twice in one day, this must have been a first. He always had an empty feeling whenever he was there. It was hard to stay there for more than a few hours before the emptiness would take its toll and it would take him several days to recover from the grief.

"Hey mum... Danny was a lot of help, he explained the feelings I was having for Derek. It sort of validated my feels. It made them feel more real. I don't know if Derek feels that way — that way about me. I just kind of forced myself on him, he reciprocated, but... It doesn't matter." Stiles sniffled. "Anyway, I brought you flowers, dad suggested it, I would have the first time I visited, but it was sort of out of blue." Stiles grew silent, before falling into contemplation.

He awoke from his thoughts, the sun was dipped down the horizon. He shook his head and went to his jeep, realizing that if he didn't get home his father would start to worry, that is if he was home. Stiles may have been terrible at cooking, but he would always try to have something on the table when his dad got home. Even if what he had on the table was simply takeout. He did try to watch his father's caloric intake, doctor's orders.

He made whole wheat rice (thank God for rice makers) and sautéed vegetables. They had leftover steak, so he sliced it into slices and added it into the mix. He left it to heat before turning off the oven and moving the wok from the heated burner. His father should be home soon, it was already half passed eight.

Stiles sat at the table waiting in silence. The faucet in the kitchen sink dripped, his dad would have to fix that, he was hopeless when it came to plumbing or other similar tasks. He could build a computer and battle pixelated monsters, but he couldn't fix a stupid leaking faucet. The phone rang.

"Dad?"

"Hey Stiles, we're interfacing with other town's police departments and we'll be patrolling main street, so I won't be home."

"Another night on the couch in your office," Stile said, making a crunched-up face.

"Yah probably. Hey, please stay in tonight. It'll keep my mind at ease."

"Yeah, sure dad."

"Promise me, Stiles."

"Geez, dad. I promise. I promise."

"Night Stiles."

"Night dad."

Stiles ate alone, before packing the rest away in Tupperware and putting it in the fridge. He got ready for bed, brushing his teeth before shaving his face, clumsily dropping his razor and stumbling with it accidentally nicking himself in the process. He sucked on his thumb till the blood flow slowed. He finished shaving before showering, and after got into his thin pajama pants and an form fitting undershirt. He lay on top of his sheets thinking about the day. He should have gone back to Derek? Or would it have been awkward... Or. He clenched his jaw, frustrated.