Chapter Twenty-Six:
By the time Stiles was splayed out on the bed, Derek working on wrapping up his newly-re-torn leg, he'd gained much more awareness of his surroundings. Like the fact that he was still naked, and that he was naked on Derek's bed.
Derek seemed completely focused on not looking anywhere else other than Stiles' left thigh- where the wound was. Stiles could see the bright burn of red in the Alpha's ears and the way the man was biting his lip. Though, if Derek was embarrassed, it was nothing compared to what Stiles was feeling. Because, what with gaining awareness; he had also gained a slight problem. A boner problem and considering that Stiles was naked, something like that could become very noticeable.
To stave off any unwanted pop-ups and the inevitable mortification said pop-ups would bring; he was focusing on Finstock in a dress, Finstock in a dress as his mantra of de-bonerfacation. It was working well so far, but soon enough Stiles was going to have to up the ante a bit. Because surely enough, he could feel the waves of arousal coursing through his stomach- and focusing on his coach in a dress was only going to help to a certain extent.
It really couldn't have been helped. Derek was leaning rather close to his junk as the wound was on his thigh, he could feel Derek's body heat for heaven's sake! The man had also only put clothes on the lower half of his body- leaving his impossibly unnaturally attractive torso out for the entire fucking world to see.
Ugh. Stiles needed a new distraction.
"So...it's over huh?" he asked, staring at the ceiling while Derek worked, and feeling extremely awkward. His voice was husky and felt like sandpaper in his throat- agonised screaming would do that to you folks!
Derek hummed in a noise of affirmation. He was now finishing the wrappings on Stiles' leg, which finally meant the teen could get dressed and gain back some of his long-lost dignity. It also meant no more warm hands on his thigh, so he'd survived without his lower parts popping up and saying hello- Yay for that.
"T-that's good. I can, uh- tell my dad and stuff. Go home, go to school, and get my life back. You know; the works." Derek was now dressing him- as if he was some baby that needed help. He was a tad bit weak in the legs, yes, but having being helped with basically everything for a week- the humiliation and annoyance at getting man-handled was growing higher and higher.
The underwear and sweatpants were the hardest to get on, because while Derek refused to let Stiles get up and dress himself, but he also refused to look at certain places of Stiles' anatomy- making it very difficult to put clothing over those places.
The shirt though, slid on nicely and afterwards Derek smoothed down the wrinkles- running his hands along Stiles' chest. Then he blushed, seeming to realise what he was doing.
Weird and strange, that was the way Derek was acting- but Stiles seemed to have a pretty good idea why.
The human lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he beckoned Derek over, "Come sit next to me- it's talking time."
Derek seemed hesitant at first, a line creasing his ever impressive brow, but ever so slowly he slid into the vacant position next to Stiles. He wasn't sitting either- but lying down, staring at the ceiling in the same position Stiles was in next to him. Their shoulders brushed and Stiles could feel Derek's body head soaking through his arm and warming his entire core.
Stiles swallowed nervously, fiddling with the edge of the sheets.
"So, ah, now that it's over," and Stiles was truly happy it was, "I-, I'm gonna leave and we're going to go our separate ways. You know, since I don't need to be here anymore." Said plain and simple, there was really no other way.
Derek made a choked noise next to him, but nodded his head in agreement- the back of his skull still placed firmly on the mattress, the movement ruffling up his wet, black hair.
"So- given the amount of time I uh- don't spend here. I guess we won't be seeing each other very often, unless there's like, some supernatural emergency or something." Stiles turned his head to look over at Derek. The Alpha was frowning and his fists were clenching bundles of fabric in the sheets.
Derek stayed silent- glaring at the ceiling.
Stiles sighed.
"So, what I'm saying is; we're probably not going to see each other for at least like two months, and even then it's probably going to be for a short catch up whilst running for our lives. So, yeah. No more Stiles and Derek time or anything. Is what I'm saying. Nothing. Nada. Nil." Stiles let out a breath, hoping Derek would catch a clue before he had to say any more.
"Is that what you want? To not see me very often?" Derek asked, and despite his angry body language- the Alpha sounded weary, put out and fragile.
Stiles groaned in annoyance, but that just seemed to make Derek look, if possible, even more out-out.
"Oh fuck this." He muttered, leaning over to Derek's side of the bed and hauling him up into a sitting position by the fabric covering his broad shoulders.
Derek's wide and startled hazel eyes were the last thing Stiles saw before he leapt at him and planted a smacking kiss onto the man's lips.
The reaction was instant- first; flailing, lots of surprised flailing. Choked and confused noises. Then startled gasping…and then, then Derek finally got the picture and relaxed- tilting his head, relaxing his shoulders and pushing in. Kissing.
Not rejected! Yes!
It started off nice and sweet- a closed mouth slide of lips on lips- slow, moving pressure added by both of them in little nips and presses. But then, oh but then Derek must have decided to one-up him or something, because he was suddenly licking out along Stiles' bottom lip, turning a sweet, dry kiss into a wet, aching one.
The gasp that Stiles drew after Derek's actions seemed to mean permission to move forward, or something like that- because suddenly Stiles was being pressed into the mattress and there was a tongue being curled slowly over his bottom lip and into his mouth.
Kissing was tongues was awesome, especially with Derek. Every press, slide and lick made these little tingles run up Stiles' spine- making his head feel light and his stomach clench.
They'd moved on from just mouth-to-mouth action as well. Derek was basically straddling him and their chests were pressed so tight together, Stiles was actually starting to wonder how flexible Derek had to be to even bend that far forward on his shins.
Stiles' hands were sliding up under the back of Derek's T-shirt, caressing the small dimples either side of his spine.
Derek's hands were basically making a very detailed map of Stiles' ribs- running smoothly under his shirt and over every bump, muscle and ridge the Alpha could find.
It wasn't long before the boner problem was back- but this time, since Derek was basically sitting in his lap; Stiles noticed that at least he wasn't the only one being affected by all the kissing.
Sadly, he didn't even have a chance to buck up and help his fellow man out- when Derek was suddenly off of him, and standing beside the bed.
"Wha- no. Come back!" Stiles complained, sitting up- but Derek just pushed him back down into the mattress again-placing a quick peck onto his lips, lingering only for a second.
"Stiles- you've only just started to feel better. You can't- we can't do this until you've rested a little more." Derek sighed, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress.
The Alpha looked thoroughly ruffled. His lips were red and shiny, slightly swollen and his hair was just everywhere. It was hot, and that was totally uncalled for because Stiles could feel the bad case of stubble burn he was getting- and he probably just looked like a kid with a bad case of Ivy rash- on his face.
"We can still make-out a little though, right?" Stiles asked, pouting.
Derek chuckled, a light, carefree, happy sound that Stiles had never heard the man make.
"Yes Stiles we can still make-out." Derek was obviously trying to sound sassy- but both his voice and his expression looked totally blown-away, like this happening was just so holy shit, that he needed a few seconds for it to register.
Stiles got it though. Stilinski men were some fine specimen after all.