Sorry this is a bit of a late update, but my internet is being pissy and I was meant to put it up last night, but it wouldn't let me. Either way, here is finally is. . .
Derek woke up to find flesh hot under his hands and a body curled up around his, practically tangled with his. Their legs were knotted together and Stiles had an arm thrown around Derek's middle and his cheek against Derek's neck. They were facing each other, except Derek was maybe sort of lying half on Stiles and Stiles was turned a little bit onto his back, his hips still facing Derek's direction. For a long minute or so, or maybe it had been a lifetime he couldn't be sure, Derek just pressed his fingers against warm, smooth flesh and savoured the scent of Stiles intermingling with his own.
He could hear that Stiles was awake, but he still snuffled against Derek's shoulder like he wasn't and for some reason that was all it took for the tension to literally drain out of Derek's body. Rejection had always been his biggest fear when it came to Stiles, because he'd put it all out there before and his whole family had been burned alive. Except, this was Stiles, this was mate his wolf always kept reminding him and so in a way, that just made everything alright again.
He just had to get Stiles to realise that was all. He thought it would probably be an easier task to do now that Stiles was a werewolf and could smell and feel for himself what Derek was feeling. Maybe. He never knew when it came to Stiles, he could be unpredictable.
And the Stiles that had seemed to pop up out of nowhere was someone that he understood even less. Except, he thought maybe that the person tapping a pattern out against the bumps of his spine while still attempting to pretend he was asleep, was a lot more like the Stiles he knew that he'd realised.
"I know you're awake," he pointed out eventually, his voice scratchy from sleep.
Even though he couldn't see it, he knew that Stiles was pouting. "Darn it," he muttered, sounding more put out than was really necessary, but hey, it was Stiles after all, "No fooling the big bad wolf." And of course, Derek refrained from pointing out that Stiles was a wolf now too. He did snort though.
"Can we pretend I'm not awake?" Stiles asked in a low, practically conspiratorial voice, "Because I don't want to get up yet."
Derek desperately tried not to read anything into that confession. "Did I say anything about getting up?" he asked, raising an eyebrow even though Stiles wasn't looking at him. Stiles now had his face pressed fully against Derek's neck and Derek could feel Stiles' hair tickling his cheek.
"I like your hair longer," he said randomly, reaching up with the hand that wasn't wrapped around Stiles' back and carding his fingers through the strands. He hadn't given Stiles' hair much thought before, not until he was confronted with it like this. Although he'd hardly call it confronted, but Derek wasn't completely sure what the hell he even meant anymore. He wasn't exactly a morning person, which was fine because he knew from experience of barging into Stiles' room at all hours that Stiles could be rather sloth like when he'd just been woken up.
Both Stiles' heartbeat and his breathing hitched slightly at Derek's words and he didn't completely know why. He also didn't have the courage to ask. "Thanks," Stiles muttered, his lips moving against Derek's flesh, only slightly muffled, "Maggie told me to grow it out because apparently I look retarded in Beta-form with a buzzcut."
Derek huffed out a laugh, because yeah, he could imagine that would look kind of stupid.
"You know we have to talk about this eventually right?" Stiles asked almost regretfully, even though he didn't seem obliged to move from the cocoon of Derek's arms and his sheets any time soon. Not that Derek was complaining at all. Although Stiles was still tracing patterns on his back and it was distracting to say the least. "About that whole sniffing thing you did earlier and me leaving and stuff."
He sighed quiet enough that he thought maybe Stiles could have missed it. "I know," he admitted.
And a part of him did want to talk about it; but at the same time another part of him wanted to just bury his head in the sand and live in the moment where he actually had Stiles in his arms, finally.
Stiles snorted ever so slightly and then shifted, twisting them both with surprising strength so that they were lying facing each other properly. Stiles was all sleep rumpled and beautiful looking, his face so close to Derek's now that their noses were practically touching.
"Well first of all," Stiles said, scowling slightly even though the way his fingers slid through the gaps between Derek's detracted from it, "You can't just waltz in, say something like you did to me before when I seriously needed to piss and then walk away." He pouted ever so slightly and Derek had to resist the urge to pull that slightly protruding bottom lip with his teeth, suck on it until it was red and swollen. He'd always had a slight fascination with Stiles' mouth, he'd admit that. "It isn't fair," Stiles carried on saying, forcing Derek to focus again, "Seriously a dick move dude, seriously!"
Stiles just rolled his eyes at Derek's slightly sheepish smile.
"This is the part where you explain your reasoning," Stiles told him, raising an eyebrow, but he squeezed their fingers together slightly in what Derek assumed was a comforting gesture.
"I didn't want to pressure you," he said after a minute, smoothing his thumb over the back of Stiles' hand. He looked so beautiful with his eyes partially closed and his lips parted, his breath coming out slowly and tickling across Derek's face. "I didn't know if any of this was what you wanted, because you left, that isn't exactly a positive sign."
He actually rolled his eyes. "Yeah well, that's because I thought you were already taken," he admitted and there was an edge of pain in his voice that made Derek want to cringe. It made him want to nuzzle into Stiles' body and just hold on, burning away all of his old memories with new ones. With better ones.
"Who told you that?" he asked, scared of the answer for no reason at all.
Stiles smiled, "It doesn't matter anymore, she was lying, I know now she was lying."
He lifted the hand that wasn't entwined with Stiles' to stroke across his cheekbone, holding the side of his face gently. He traced Stiles' lips with his thumb and smiled a little at the memory of those lips smeared red with blood. Stiles was a good leader, he was a protector. Even though Isaac wasn't his own Pack, Stiles had still protected him. But then, Derek had always known that Stiles would make a good leader, a good Alpha. Even though back then he'd always had it in his mind that Stiles would take up the position of Alpha Female rather than anything else.
But the person in front of him was practically an Alpha himself. It could be seen so clearly in the fact that even the Alpha of Stiles' Pack conceded to him, looked to him for reassurance, trusted him unequivocally with the Pack.
"I missed you," he muttered, letting the hand that Stiles splayed on his chest push him over until he was lying on his back. Stiles hovered over him, slipped into the gap at Derek's side, their hands releasing so that Derek could curl an arm around Stiles' back, pressing it against his spine. Stiles smiled as his fingers came up and twisted into the side of Derek's hair, curling behind his ear and tilting Derek's face up slightly.
Stiles was still close enough for their noses to be touching and it would be so simple for Derek to just close the distance between their mouths, but he meant what he said about not pressuring Stiles. He wanted it to be Stiles' decision and he knew that the younger werewolf could smell his need and his arousal thick in their air, just like he could smell Stiles'. But he could also smell his nervousness, so he wasn't going to ruin this. Derek refused to ruin this.
There were so many things between them that still needed to be said, that needed to be explained and discussed, but right at that moment Derek felt like they had all the time in the world to do that.
Still smiling, Stiles ducked in even closer and pressed his mouth against Derek's, dragging a small noise of pure happiness out of the Alpha. And Stiles carried on smiling against his lips, even as his tongue flicked out and traced the seam of Derek's mouth. He opened up willingly, surprised at how eager Stiles was, at how in control he seemed to be. Before, he never would have imagined that he could have let Stiles control even a kiss, he never would have thought Stiles was capable of it. But this Stiles, this Stiles that had returned to Beacon Hills was confident in a way that Derek adored.
It made his mouth water and his wolf howl to see Stiles like this.
They pressed closer, Stiles' hands knotting into his hair and his mouth crushing down on Derek's with a desperation that Derek had no trouble mirroring. It was Stiles' taste, so unique and perfect as it exploded in Derek's brain. He couldn't get enough of it. He just wanted to crawl inside of Stiles and stay there forever, Pack war be damned. Someone could have walked up and killed him right then and he wouldn't have cared, because this was the closest thing to heaven that Derek had ever gotten to before.
Stiles moaned when Derek's hands pressed against Stiles' back, pulling him over until Stiles was lying between his legs, propped up on his elbows either side of Derek's head, but he didn't like that so much. He wanted to feel Stiles' fingers in his hair again, his nails scratching against his scalp. So he turned them some more until he was pressing Stiles into the mattress, their tongues battling and sliding together in their mouths.
He choked out a moan when Stiles' legs went up around his waist, locking at the base of his spine and his fingers pressed back into his hair, dragging them together even more firmly. It was perfect, it was messy and raw and so completely perfect.
And then Stiles just stopped, his head cocking to the side slightly. Stiles was already flinging himself out of Derek's bedroom window by the time that the sound of the first snarl reached Derek's ears.