a/n: hi everyone! so this chapter is a little on the heavy side, and i figured i should warn you about some things.
it deals with past emotional/psychological abuse and past emotional manipulation. i'm making another author's note at the end of the chapter so you can check that out if you need more details about it before you start reading.
Stiles and Derek don't see each other for five days.
They talk through texts, but even that is not as much as they are used to doing.
Before, you know, Stiles asked Derek to drive him home after their fight.
Their first fight.
So he could think about things.
Namely: their relationship, Derek's many issues, and what Stiles is going to do about it.
So Stiles spends those five days going to work, ignoring the looks his friends send his way for him being quieter than usual, and reflecting.
Stiles doesn't really know how to deal with Derek right now.
Doesn't really know how to deal with someone this fragile and closed off when he hasn't got a clue as to what happen to make him this way.
Well, that's not really true.
He thinks he has some idea as to what might be the issue here, but only because he's spent most of his life in Scott's house, with Mrs. McCall and Scott's dad. Before he decided to split, that is.
It makes Stiles sick to his stomach to think Derek might have gone through the same emotional abuse Mrs. McCall did when she was married.
But it makes sense, with the way Derek avoids eye contact when he thinks he might have done something to make Stiles upset, and how often he apologizes, and how every time Stiles does something nice for him, he always gets that look like he doesn't really understand why Stiles would, or why he deserves it.
And he can see Derek's trying his best to let Stiles in, he just doesn't know how to do that yet, and Stiles has to give it to him.
He knows how hard it is to open up about certain things, especially with the background Stiles thinks Derek has, and the fact Derek is willing to do that for him, because he asked, means so much more than Derek will ever know.
Like letting Stiles inside his home, even if he doesn't live there anymore.
Stiles knows it cost Derek something to bring him to the Hale house, to let that part of himself out there for Stiles to see, to take that step.
But there's also a part of Stiles that can't really decide if he wants Derek to keep trying or not.
He knows it hurts Derek to talk about whatever it is that happened, and he doesn't like seeing Derek hurt. And he also knows that once he learns about this part of Derek he tries so hard to hide, it'll hurt him too.
Especially if his suspicions are proven right.
He can't even imagine what kind of things Derek must have heard, for how long, and how deep they're woven into his very being, making him believe whatever crap they told him.
And Stiles knows it is crap, he just doesn't really know how he'll go about making Derek realize it.
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Stiles will be there by his side to help him through it.
Because Derek hurting is Stiles hurting.
Derek is that important to him, and fuck the world if anyone thinks Stiles won't do anything in his power to make Derek not hurt anymore.
So he takes his phone out of his pocket and starts typing.
To: Derek
is the offer to teach me how to cook still standing?
He shouldn't be surprised when he receives an answer about thirty seconds later, making him wonder if Derek was glued to his phone as if waiting for Stiles to come to a conclusion after his five days of thinking and contact him.
From: Derek
It is.
Stiles worries at his bottom lip with his teeth as he and Derek keep texting about meeting with the excuse of Derek teaching Stiles how to make something, all the while thinking if that'd be as good of a time as any to start asking Derek questions and trying to get a feel for what happened to him.
He thinks Derek knows this is an excuse to pry, because as soon as they have the details settled to start cooking lessons three days from now, he sends Stiles another text.
From: Derek
And maybe we could talk.
From: Derek
About some things.
Stiles breathes out slowly through his nose, typing out a yes, we can before hitting send.
He hopes whatever this things are will give him some insight into what Derek's issues are and how deep they go.
And that he's strong enough to deal with them.
"So," Stiles drawls out. "How do we do this?"
They're in the middle of Stiles' kitchen, grocery bags adorning the table, about to introduce Stiles to the wonders of cooking.
Stiles greeted Derek with a quick kiss when he arrived at Stiles' apartment, both of them leaving together to go grocery shopping with the list Derek made for the night.
They haven't really talked about anything other than food and how to make it yet, but Stiles hopes that once they get to cooking, they'll get to talking.
And he'll get to learn more about Derek.
"First, wash your hands," Derek points at the kitchen sink. "Then we take a look at the recipe, see what we need, and start laying things out on the counter."
"Yes, sir," Stiles salutes, going to wash his hands. "What are we making, anyways?"
"You told me you know how to cook pasta," Derek says, handing Stiles a dishtowel before washing his own hands. "So I figured I could work with that and teach you how to make different types of sauce. That way you give people the illusion you actually know how to make a lot of plates when you really only know how to make one thing but in a lot of different ways."
Stiles blinks at him a couple of times before shaking his head and saying, "That's kind of genius."
"Thank you," Derek says dryly.
"So what sauce are we going with?"
Derek shrugs, "I figured we could go with something healthy? I know you're always complaining about your dad's diet, so I thought learning how to make something to make it for him on dinner nights would be best."
Stiles presses his lips together as his chest grows warm, expression softening as Derek looks expectantly at him, "Yeah, I'd like that."
As it turns out they're making tomato, onions and mushroom sauce, which doesn't really sound much like sauce to Stiles, just stuff to nibble on while he's cooking something else.
They don't really talk as they start chopping and cutting onions and tomatoes, that is until Stiles glances at Derek from the corner of his eye and asks, "Where did you learn how to cook?"
He feels more than sees tension in Derek's body before he forces himself to relax, hearing his throat work as he swallows.
"My father taught me."
Stiles stays quiet.
He knows better than to offer his condolences.
He knows they won't make anything better, won't make it stop hurting.
So he stays quiet and listens.
"Mom spent a lot of time in court or at the company working on cases. She wasn't home much, and when she did find some time to spend with us she didn't want to waste it on cooking," Derek explains, voice quiet. "Dad could leave Uncle Peter at the garage so he could come home and make us something. He'd let us help more often than not, and as I got older I started asking him to teach me more things."
Stiles thinks about his mom, wondering if she would have agreed to teach him how to cook if she had more time.
He likes to think she would, and would be even more strict about the Sheriff's diet than Stiles is now.
"He passed away four years ago. Car accident," Derek continues, and this is the confirmation Stiles didn't want, that Derek's dad was not here anymore. "Cooking was our thing. Laura and Cora never really had the patience for it, and mom didn't have the time. And after he died it was just something- something-"
"To bring you closer together," Stiles fills in when Derek trails off. "To honor his memory by."
Stiles understands.
More than he'd like to.
"Yes," Derek nods, voice cracking a little. "That's it."
"Well, then," Stiles says lightly, bumping their shoulders together. "Teach me your ways, Derek Hale."
Derek lets out a snort and does exactly that, ordering Stiles around his kitchen and saying he needs to learn how to do this stuff on his own whenever Stiles complains and asks for help.
Derek gets him to start heating a couple of tablespoons of olive oil in a large deep pan Stiles didn't really know he had, adding the chopped onions and letting it cook for about five minutes.
Five minutes where Derek talks a little bit more.
"My mom didn't really consider moving back here until after my dad died," Derek tells him, watching as the onion starts losing its color and turning translucent. "Even when we got the letter from the county telling us they were going to take the house if we didn't do something about it, she still thought about staying. Renovating the house, maybe renting it, but never coming back here. Not really."
"What made her change her mind?" Stiles asks, getting the sliced button mushrooms from another bag.
"I had a girlfriend," Derek says, and Stiles is so startled by this he almost cuts his finger open.
Because he thought Derek liked guys.
He remember Derek's expression when Stiles asked him about having a girlfriend when they first met, a mixture of dread and disgust that got Stiles assuming he was gay.
"It didn't end well," Derek adds. "Not for me and not for my family."
Stiles adds the tomatoes cut in wedges to the pan with the onions, adding two cups of the mushrooms as he process what Derek just said.
It gives him an idea as to why Derek is so reluctant to let Stiles get anywhere near his family, because whatever happened when they broke up must have taken its toll not only on Derek but on others he cared about as well.
Stiles just doesn't know if something happened to them directly, or if they were suffering because something happened to Derek, or both.
"You have to let it simmer for about twenty minutes," Derek points at the pan. "You can probably start with the penne halfway through that time, that way everything will be ready around the same time."
Stiles nods, leaning against the counter as he crosses his arms over his chest and stares at Derek.
He pulled a chair over close to the stove sometime after he finished helping Stiles chop vegetables, staying near him so he could keep an eye on how things were going.
"Can I ask you what happened? With your girlfriend?"
Derek looks up at him, expression hard as he considers Stiles' question.
Stiles fights down the urge to go to him, staying where he is and not breaking eye contact.
"She used me to get to my mother," Derek answers bluntly.
Stiles stares at him with eyes a little wide and jaw slack.
Derek's trust issues suddenly make sense, but now Stiles seems to have even more questions that need answering.
And to his utter and complete fucking surprise, Derek helps.
"She wanted a better job, more money, a change of statuses," Derek says, voice flat. "She saw she could get that through me and my family, so she took the opportunity and ran with it."
Stiles shakes his head, not knowing what to say.
"There's more to it, but-," Derek cuts off, scrubbing a hand over his face. "But I'm not ready to tell you about it yet."
"Okay," Stiles says, voice coming out a little rough. "I think you told me enough for today."
Derek tries to give him a smile that looks more like a wince, and Stiles finally walks up to him and lets his fingers card through Derek's hair.
"Thank you for telling me that," Stiles whispers. "I know it's not an easy thing for you to do, and I appreciate it."
"I wanted you to know," Derek tells him, leaning into the touch. "I think- I think that helps. It makes it easier for me. Knowing that you want to hear about it makes it easier for me to tell you about it."
"I do want to know about it. And I'll always hear what you have to say."
Stiles bends over and brushes their lips together, hand coming down from Derek's hair to cup his jaw. Derek opens up for him, sucking Stiles' tongue into his mouth, letting him control the kiss.
"Think I should start on the pasta?" Stiles mumbles against his lips.
"You could start boiling water," Derek tells him. "And then pasta."
"And then we can make out some more?"
Derek answers by nipping at Stiles' lower lip, giving him a small smile when Stiles lets out a low chuckle.
He pulls back after pecking Derek one final time on the lips and goes in search of a large pot, filling it with water and placing it on the stove so it can boil.
He then comes back to Derek, ducking his head to hide a pleased smile when Derek grabs his hand and lowers Stiles onto his lap, arms going around Stiles' waist and holding him close.
Stiles is still feeling a little uneasy about their relationship, but he knows these things take work.
He knows he'll have to be patient about Derek learning how to open up and let Stiles in. But just now he knows that if he asks, Derek will gladly tell him about things and let him know when the conversation has become too much for him to handle.
And now that he knows that he can't help but think about all the other times Derek took charge of things after Stiles made the first move.
Like Derek asking for his number after Stiles asked him if he meant what he said in the ambulance about him.
And making a big deal out of their first date after Stiles told him he wanted to see him.
And now sharing about his life after Stiles told him he wants to know about it and asking questions.
It's almost as if Derek needs to be reassured that it' okay to do or say some things.
Derek's lips are warm and soft against his, moving slowly and carefully like he's also acknowledging the step that was taken and the changes that'll bring to their relationship.
It gives Stiles hope for their future together, if what happened today continues after they finish dinner and Derek goes back to his place.
It gives him hope that they'll be able to overcome whatever Derek went through and create something between the two of them.
Something so much better.
"You should start cooking the pasta," Derek says lowly, rubbing their noses together.
Stiles sighs, placing a kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth before getting up and dumping a package of penne pasta on the boiling water.
He checks the sauce, seeing it's reducing and thickening, before going back to sit on Derek's lap.
"Thanks for inviting me today," Derek says, pressing his lips against Stiles' shoulder.
"Thank you for offering to teach me how to cook," Stiles replies, placing a kiss to Derek's hairline. "I have to admit, it's been kind of cool so far."
"And you haven't even burned anything," Derek teases, huffing a laugh when Stiles gasps in mock-offense and hits him in the chest with the back of his hand. "Go stir in the sauce a quarter of a cup of fresh basil and season it with as much salt and pepper as you want."
"Just so you know," Stiles raises an eyebrow at him as he does what he's told. "You're washing all the dishes."
"Looking forward to it," Derek smiles at him, eyes crinkling.
Stiles rolls his eyes at him and goes back to stirring the sauce, checking on the pasta as he does so.
It doesn't take much before that for it all to be ready, Derek helping him get a bowl so Stiles can dump the pasta in and the sauce on top of it.
"Smells good," Stiles says as he grabs the pan with the sauce and spreads it over the pasta, licking his lips as he sees how it all comes together.
"Looks good, too," Derek nods. "Now we just need to know how it tastes before we declare your first lesson a success."
"Grab the plates then," Stiles sniffs, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
"What are you doing?"
"There's no way I'm not taking a picture of my very first decent cooked meal," Stiles says, typing on his phone. "And sending it to everyone I know so they can be proud of me."
Derek shakes his head, "We're eating in the living room?"
Stiles doesn't really know why Derek asked.
It's not like he makes use of his dining table.
Except for when he's hosting the McCall-Stilinski Weekly Dinner.
"Yep," Stiles says, popping the 'p'. "I'll be right over with his."
Derek nods and walks away, Stiles putting away his phone and grabbing a dishcloth so he won't burn his hands when taking the bowl.
When he gets to the living room is to find Derek setting the coffee table, making space in the middle so Stiles can place the food.
"Do you want to do the honors?" Stiles asks as they both sit on the couch and stare at the finished product.
Derek doesn't say anything, just goes right ahead and starts serving them both.
Stiles stares down at his plate with wariness, a little bit scared of taking the first bite to see how it tastes.
"What if it tastes horrible?"
"We'll order take out," Derek shrugs, grabbing his fork and stabbing tomato, mushroom, and penne pieces.
Stiles eyes him expectantly as Derek opens his mouth and takes a bite, chewing slowly.
"So?"
"It's not awful," Derek says, mouth full.
Stiles blinks at him, waiting for more.
When Derek just goes for another bite, Stiles shrugs and says, "Okay. I'll take it."
He starts on his own plate, then, the smell of spices filling his nose as he takes his fork to his mouth.
And realizes that not only his pasta is not awful, it's actually pretty fucking tasty.
It's not the best pasta he's ever ate in his entire life, but it tastes good.
And he's the one who cooked it.
"I'll let it slide you underrating my food if you go out and buy us ice cream."
"Already did," Derek tells him, lips curling up. "I bought it while we were grocery shopping and hid it in your fridge when you weren't looking."
"Sneaky," Stiles gasps, letting his face break into a smile as he leans in and kisses Derek's cheek. "Thank you."
"Thank you for dinner," Derek tells him. "It's actually really good."
Stiles beams at him, "I have a pretty good teacher."
The tips of Derek's ears start to redden as he ducks his head and looks at Stiles from under his lashes, "Thanks. You- You're a good student."
"That's good to hear. Because I want you to keep teaching me stuff."
"I will," Derek says, and then lowers his voice. "It's good to- I like doing it. And it's good having someone do it with me. It's- It's like it used to, a little bit. Different, but kind of the same."
Stiles gives him a sad smile, "I had fun. We should do this whenever we can."
Derek turns his head to stare at Stiles consideringly, expression sad and warm at the same time.
"My dad would have liked you."
They don't make any more conversation after that, and as Stiles goes back to eating, he hopes Derek's right.
Derek stays over for the first time almost two weeks after that.
They're up for another cooking lesson, Stiles reminding Derek of the conversation they had about Stiles learning how to make meatballs and freaking out about not knowing what to cook for dinner with his family.
Derek had told him to go with cheesy baked rice instead of his to go pasta with meatballs, but what Stiles didn't really tell Derek at the time was that he had no idea how to make it.
So Derek teaches him, and Stiles is surprised to find that it's not actually that hard to make, even though it takes a lot longer than pasta.
They eat dinner in the living room like always, Derek washing the dishes after they're done.
It's the one thing Stiles won't budge on.
He cooks, even though it's with Derek telling him how, and Derek cleans up later.
They go back to the living room after the last fork is put dry and put away, cuddling up on Stiles couch and flicking channels looking for something to watch.
Derek stops him by wrenching the control out of his hand when he sees Criminal Minds is on.
"Hey!"
Derek shushes him, "Morgan's talking."
Stiles looks from Derek to the tv and then back to Derek again.
"Is your favorite character really the one named Derek?"
Derek just raises an eyebrow at him, "Because your favorites in Chicago Fire aren't Dawson and Shay, right?"
"They're badass EMTs, okay?" Stiles sniffs. "And I thought we weren't talking."
"We aren't," Derek agrees, lips twitching as he stares back at the tv.
Stiles lets out a snort and makes himself comfortable, resting his head on Derek's shoulder and glueing his eyes to the screen.
It's around the middle of episode two that Derek starts carding his fingers through Stiles' hair, scratching at his scalp, fingers dipping down to trace the tendons of Stiles' neck.
Stiles falls asleep like that, feeling warm and heavy and safe, Derek's leather and pine needle scent on his nose, his strong chest against Stiles' side, their breathing in sync.
And then he startles awake to the TV still on and the living room dark, having no idea what time it is.
He's half propped against Derek's chest, Derek's hand a warm weight on his shoulder, his own arm thrown over Derek's stomach, fingers curling on the fabric of his shirt.
Derek has his head thrown back and resting against the couch, throat exposed, lips parted as he breathes softly through his mouth.
Stiles' heart constricts in his chest as sits up slowly, trying not to wake him, turning his head to the side so he can see Derek from a better angle.
He looks impossibly young like this, expression smooth and unguarded, and Stiles doesn't even hesitate to reach out a hand and trace the bridge of Derek's nose with a finger.
On the TV, Mary Beth Peil says that you know you truly love someone when you can sit all night and watch them sleep...
Stiles' finger stops right at the tip of Derek's nose, the words he just heard spinning in circles around his head.
Because he can almost feel it.
Love.
For Derek.
He can almost feel it but it's not there, not just yet.
But this is the moment where he truly knows he could love him.
He could love the man in front of him with all his heart, forever.
It's been two months since their first date, with a couple of big bumps on the way, but the potential is already there.
And that scares the shit out of him.
Because Derek is...
Derek is fucked up, if Stiles is being honest.
He had some pretty shitty things happen to him, and they left scars.
Scars Stiles knows he'll have to learn how to smooth out and help heal if they stay together.
Which is something Stiles really wants it to happen, but that doesn't make the situation any less scary.
But he guesses he was always fascinated by things that could hurt him, Derek most of all.
Being with him will be a test of strength, and Stiles hopes to hell he can make it.
Because as terrifying as it is to reach out and grasp the edges of what he's feeling for Derek and turn it into something, Stiles wants it.
He wants it because he grew up around it, with his parents.
And because he sees it now, with Scott and Allison.
He wants that for him, and he knows he could have it with Derek.
As long as Derek feels the same way.
So he commits Derek' sleeping face to memory and starts running his fingers through Derek's hair instead, tugging every now and again as he calls, "Derek, baby, wake up."
Derek's face twitches, brows furrowing and lips smacking together as he opens his eyes and blinks wearly up at Stiles.
"Time is it?" Derek asks, voice thick with sleep.
"Don't know," Stiles says quietly, leaning a bit back when Derek rights himself on the couch and scrubs a hand over his face. "We fell asleep."
Derek makes a sound in the back of his throat and sighs, settling his head back against the back of the couch as he blinks up at the ceiling.
Stiles keeps playing with his hair, soft smile on his lips and eyes glued to Derek's face.
Yeah, he could love him.
And then Derek turns to look at him, still looking half asleep as he mumbles, "I should go."
"Or you could stay," Stiles offers, not taking his eyes off Derek's face.
Especially when Derek looks back at him, surprised.
As much as they cuddle whenever they can, they never slept in the same bed before, and Stiles never offered the possibility of that happening.
But as much as Derek is trying and letting Stiles in, Stiles figures he should do the same.
And he has to admit he's curious about knowing what it feels like to wake up with Derek wrapped around him in the mornings, what it feels like to fall asleep to the sound of Derek breathing next to him, what it feels like to have Derek in bed with him at nights.
So he's kind of really fucking hoping Derek will say yes.
But this is Derek's choice to make, not his, to decide if he's ready to let that happen.
So Stiles just waits while Derek considers it, never once stopping the movements of his hand against Derek's hair.
"You'll have to lend me a toothbrush," is what Derek finally says after a few more minutes, lips curling up in a pleased smile when Stiles just shakes his head at him and tries to calm down his beating heart.
"I'll even let you pick the color," Stiles tells him, proud his voice comes out steady, getting up from the couch and reaching a hand out to Derek.
"How nice of you," Derek says flatly, taking Stiles hand and letting himself be pulled up.
Stiles takes a moment to stare at him when Derek raises his arms above his head and stretches, shirt riding up and exposing a sliver of skin and a trail of hair running down from his navel and past the waistband of his jeans.
Derek catches him looking, tilting his head to the side as he obviously takes in the way Stiles' cheeks turn pink.
"C'mon," Stiles says, licking his lips. "Let's get ready for bed."
And doesn't that sound like something Stiles wants to say all the fucking time.
They both walk in silence to Stiles' bedroom, Derek sticking close to him as Stiles bypasses the bed and goes for his bathroom, hitting the lights as they go on.
Stiles opens a drawer and takes two toothbrushes and hands them to Derek, a small smirk playing at his lips.
Derek takes one look at them and rolls his eyes, "Really?"
"I told you I'd let you choose."
"Between colors," Derek says. "Not between Batman and Spiderman."
"I know," Stiles nods, expression grim. "It's a tough choice."
"I'm dating a child," Derek groans as he looks skywards, as if asking for strength.
Stiles laughs at him, grabbing his own toothbrush from the cup holder and slicking it with toothpaste.
He glances at Derek from the corner of his eye and sees him frowning down at his hands before sighing and opening the package of the Batman brush and putting the Spiderman one away.
"Good choice," Stiles says, or at least tries to.
He ends up with spit and foam running down his chin instead.
"Classy," Derek mutters under his breath, wiping at Stiles' chin with his thumb and turning on the water to wash it clean.
They brush their teeth side by side, Stiles bumping Derek's shoulder with his own whenever he sees Derek staring at him from his reflection on the mirror.
Stiles' stomach flips as he takes in the image the two of them make together, how domestic they must look right now. Even more so when Derek finishes brushing his teeth and leaves his Batman toothbrush on Stiles' cup holder.
He rinses his mouth, trying to push down the sudden hit of nerves as it sinks in that he and Derek will be spending the night together.
Not that he's that successful as Derek follows after him as they get back to the bedroom, Stiles feeling a little bit awkward and a lot jittery as his eyes go from the bed and back to Derek.
And Derek's clothes.
"Uh," Stiles starts, scratching the back of his neck with one hand as he gestures at Derek with the other. "Do you want some shorts or something else to sleep in?"
Derek clears his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he shakes his head, "It's better if I don't. I tend to give out a lot of heat when I'm sleeping."
"Oh," Stiles blinks at him. "Okay, then."
They stand there staring at each other for a few seconds until Stiles' points back to the bathroom.
"I'll just go change, then," Stiles says. "You can put your clothes on top of my computer chair and go ahead and get into bed. I'll be right back."
Stiles waits for Derek's nod before turning around and going back to the bathroom, pushing the door until it's almost shut and covers Derek's view of him.
He takes off his clothes slowly, giving Derek time to change so he won't feel uncomfortable when Stiles walks back into the room, turning off the lights as he goes.
And when he does, it's to find Derek sprawled over half of the bed, on his belly, arms tucked safely under one of Stiles' pillow.
And only wearing a pair of tight black boxer briefs.
With the faint light coming from Stiles' open window illuminating his features.
And-
"You have a tattoo?" Stiles shrieks, pointing an accusing finger at Derek's back.
Derek just lifts his head from Stiles' pillow and looks back at him, raising an eyebrow at him.
Stiles gapes.
Derek sighs and says, "I told you maybe you just hadn't seen it yet."
Stiles opens and closes his mouth, lowering his arm as he walks slowly to the bed and braces a knee and a hand on the mattress, climbing up.
He sits indian style on the side not occupied by Derek, his knees brushing Derek's side, eyes zeroed in on the black swirls in the middle of Derek's shoulder blades.
"This is the same design on your mom's bar," Stiles comments, raising a hand to trace the ink with the tip of his fingers.
Derek shivers a little at the touch, pressing his face more firmly against the pillow and his arm.
"It's a family thing," Derek says, just like he did back then. "It means something different to each of us, but to me it's more of a Past, Present, and Future thing. Like what you did before comes together to make you who you are today and define what kind of person you can be later."
Stiles splays his hand against the design, feeling the warmth of Derek's back sweep into his palm.
"I can understand that," Stiles says quietly. "It looks good on you."
"I like it," Derek shrugs one shoulder, making Stiles' hand move.
He lingers a while before pulling his hand back and lying down on his side, facing Derek.
"Hi."
"Hey," Derek whispers, eyes glinting in the dark.
Now, this close to Derek, Stiles doesn't really fight the urge to shuffle closer.
He knows he told him he'd let Derek set the pace of their relationship, but he thinks it's safe for him to push the boundaries a little tonight.
You know, since Derek agreed to stay.
He still stops and asks, "Is this okay?" when his hands starts sliding up and down Derek's back, his feet tangling with Derek's own.
He freezes when he feels Derek tense, though, not pulling back, just staying where he is, without moving.
Little by little Derek forces his body to relax, but Stiles doesn't resume his caresses.
"I need you to talk to me," Stiles says softly against the skin of Derek's arm, staring at Derek's eyes that close shut when Stiles started touching him. "I need to know when it's okay for me to touch you, and if anything I'm doing needs to not be done because you don't like it."
"I'm not-," Derek shakes his head a little, back arching into Stiles' touch. "I don't know if-"
Stiles waits, puckering his lips and pressing barely there kisses against Derek's arm.
He feels Derek take a deep breath beneath his palm, the rapid beating of his heart.
Derek doesn't say anything for a long time, Stiles staying right where he is as he waits.
"I told you about," Derek starts, shifting closer to Stiles. "I told you about my ex."
Stiles makes an affirmative noise in the back of his throat, waiting for Derek to elaborate.
"When we'd-," Derek trails off, but it's not hard for Stiles to add in had sex after that. "It wasn't- She didn't- I don't think she enjoyed it."
Stiles frowns, not really getting it.
"And with you, I don't know if- I don't know if you'll feel-"
"You don't know if I'll feel the same," Stiles says it all in one breath, closing his eyes when Derek nods.
His hand starts moving again as he collects his thoughts, stomach churning at wondering what the fuck was Derek's relationship with this woman.
"I can't tell you I'll like everything you want to do with me, or to me," Stiles says, figuring this is about as good of a starting place as any. "We'll have to talk a lot about what kind of things we like doing or having done to us, but I want you to know that I'll always give you feedback on things. I'm pretty vocal when it comes to stuff I like, and even more so about stuff I don't like."
Derek snorts at that, Stiles' own lips twitching as he feels Derek relax more against the mattress.
"I expect the same thing from you," Stiles keeps going. "If you don't like something, tell me. I don't want you to be uncomfortable or feel like I'm pushing you into things. And I know I told you we'd take things as slow or as fast as you'd like, but right now I'd like us to talk about that, because I have a feeling the reason we didn't do anything yet is because of what you just told me."
He waits for Derek's nods again, lips thinning as he tries to calm himself down and not call someone from Derek's family demanding the name of this woman so he can fuck her shit up.
"If the reason nothing happened yet is because you're afraid of how I'm going to react, then you have nothing to worry about," Stiles tells him, placing a kiss on Derek's arm again and feeling it flex beneath his lips. "I think it's pretty safe to say I'll like almost everything, because I'm doing it with you. I'm into you, dude, so I'm almost a hundred percent sure I'll be on board with whatever it is you want to do. But if the reason we haven't done anything is because you're still not ready to take our relationship there yet, then it's cool. I can wait. I told you I'm not in this for sex, but because I like you and I want to spend time with you, and that still stands. Okay?"
This time he doesn't get a nod.
He gets Derek opening his eyes and lifting his head up a little and mumbling out a, "Okay."
"Good," Stiles smiles at him, and then says, "So which one is it?"
Derek blinks at him a few times before saying, "A little bit of both."
Stiles nods, "You're gonna have to explain it to me. I don't want any misunderstandings between us."
Derek stares at him, Stiles knowing he's taking his time to get his words straight before he starts talking.
Stiles nuzzles against the skin of his arm, because this means Derek knows this is important.
"Your reaction," Derek starts. "That was a big part of it. With her it was- It didn't make me feel good about myself. So thinking there was a chance it could be the same with you, I kept myself from doing anything. And now that I know that's not going to happen, I still- I want more, but I want to take things slow. I'm not ready for- for everything, not yet. I'd like to tell you more about what happened before we got that far."
Stiles turns the words in his head, processing what Derek told him as he keeps rubbing circles over his naked back.
"Okay," Stiles says, nodding. "Okay, I can do that. We can do that, together. Yeah?"
"Yeah," Derek says, turning on his side so they're both facing each other.
Stiles' palm slides off Derek's back to his side, the arm Stiles had his face pressed against coming to snake around his waist, Derek pulling him close so their chests are pressed together, skin to skin.
Stiles has to say, he's feeling pretty good right now.
"Do you want to do anything tonight?" Stiles asks, tucking his head under Derek's chin.
Derek shakes his head, "Wanna stay like this."
"Okay," Stiles says, nuzzling against Derek's throat. "Just so you know, you have my permission to start anything you want, whenever you want it. If I have a problem with it, I'll tell you, but I don't want you to feel like you have to wait for me to do something, okay?"
"Okay," Derek mutters against his hair. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, big guy," Stiles pats Derek's ribs before he pulls back to press a kiss to Derek's lips. "Night, baby."
Derek waits for him to settle back down before pressing his smile against Stiles' forehead and whispering, "Night, Bunny."
And yeah, Stiles could love him.
Stiles suspects that telling Derek he doesn't have to wait for Stiles to initiate physical contact of the sexual kind was probably one of the best decisions he's ever made in his life.
It's not like they're fucking like bunnies - heh - every chance they get, because it's only been about a week since said convo took place, but Derek is a lot more comfortable in taking things a little bit further whenever they find themselves alone.
Sort of like right now.
"Derek, we're going to be - fuck, that feels good. We're going to be late, I don't want to be- Derek, oh my god."
Stiles feels Derek's smile against his collarbone, teeth scraping against the soft skin as Derek sucks a mark at the hollow of his' throat.
Oh, yeah.
Biting kink.
That's a thing Derek has that Stiles makes no qualms about loving it.
"I'm serious, Derek. If we don't go now we're going to be late and there won't be any time to buy popcorn and I need popcorn when I'm- oh fuck."
And did Stiles mention that alone also means alone in the Jeep while in a parking lot in front of the movies?
Because that's what's happening.
Derek presses tiny kisses to his throat and up until he can mouth at the hinge of Stiles' jaw and murmur against his ear, "In a second", and going right back to what he was doing.
"Fuck, you're the best and worst boyfriend ever I swear to god," Stiles mutters under his breath as he gets a hand on Derek's hair and tugs him up, mashing their lips together for a slow and deep kiss.
Derek makes a little happy sound in the back of his throat and opens up for him, letting him lick his way into Derek's mouth.
Stiles breaks the kiss a little too soon for his liking, but in his defense, he really wants to go to the movies.
And not have the police called on them for public indecency.
Derek actually whimpers when Stiles pulls back, lips pursed in something that looks a lot like a pout.
He looks fucking adorable, and Stiles has to bite down on his lower lip to keep from grinning, doing his best to appear put out as he mock-glares at Derek.
By the way Derek keeps his gaze locked on his lips, he's not doing a very good job.
"Derek," Stiles tries to sound stern, giving up when Derek looks up at him and raises an eyebrow. "Fine. I admit to love having your mouth on me but the movie, baby. It's gonna start soon and I need all the buttery popcorn first, so we have to go now. Or we'll be late. And I'll have no popcorn, which is not something I'm okay with. So, let's go."
"Okay," Derek nods at him, eyes having gone back to staring at Stiles' lips halfway through Stiles' speech. "Just-"
And as he leans in for another kiss Stiles gets a hand over Derek's face and pushes him away, all the while yelling, "No more kisses for you until I get my popcorn!"
A few people walking past the parked Jeep turn their heads to stare at them, Derek laughing against Stiles' hand and blowing kisses at him while Stiles continues to scream about being late and the wonders of butter.
Not that Stiles notices, really.
Not when Derek falls back against the passenger side seat and starts laughing, shoulders shaking and eyes glinting as he stares at Stiles.
And if Stiles thought that seeing Derek smile at him would kill him, then Derek actually laughing is like bringing him back to life.
Only to stab him repeatedly in the chest with a knife.
The warmth he feels spreading through his chest and arms and face and down to the tip of his toes can only be blood, because he feels absolutely gutted right now.
Because in the time Stiles has known Derek, this is the first time he remembers seeing him laugh at something. Like a belly laugh, a laugh that shakes your entire body, a laugh that leaves you gasping for air and clutching your stomach and wiping tears from your eyes.
And fuck if that doesn't break Stiles' heart.
And fuck if that doesn't make him promise to himself that he'll do anything in his power to make Derek keep laughing like that.
"Are you done?" Stiles purses his lips at him, expression soft.
And a little bit sad, but he doesn't think Derek sees it.
Not when he grins dangerously at Stiles, says, "No," and leans in for one more kiss.
He's gone before Stiles can say or do anything, pulling back and flicking Stiles' nose and opening the door and climbing out of the Jeep, his self-satisfied chuckle echoing through the now almost empty parking lot.
Stiles tries not to smile like a loon.
He doesn't succeed.
Instead he goes after Derek, locking the Jeep and jogging until he catches up with his boyfriend almost at the movies' entry. He throws his arms around Derek's shoulders, pressing a sound kiss against the back of his neck.
"Buy me food while I buy us tickets?"
"I thought you wanted to have a moment alone with your popcorn," Derek deadpans. "I don't want to deprive you of that."
"Don't mock," Stiles sticks his tongue out at him.
"I would never," Derek says dryly, and that's another thing he got from spending so much time with Stiles.
"See if I don't chew obnoxiously loud in your ear when the movie starts," Stiles narrows his eyes at him.
"Will you forgive me if I buy you Reese's?"
"A man after my own heart," Stiles clutches at his imaginary pearls.
Derek snorts and gives his cheek a quick kiss, walking away to buy them snacks while Stiles takes care of the tickets.
They settle into their seats as they wait for the movie to start, Stiles carrying their drink while Derek deals with Stiles' popcorn, Reese's, and the gummi bears he bought for himself.
Stiles grabs a handful of popcorn and stuffs it in his mouth, ignoring the disgusted look Derek throws his way when he licks the butter off his fingers.
"Yummy."
"I'm not kissing you tonight," Derek wrinkles his nose at him.
Stiles tries not to find him endearing as fuck.
Like usual, he fails.
"Yes, you are," Stiles licks his lips, greasy with butter and salt. "I refuse to come to the movies and not make out with you even if for just a little bit."
"I'm getting no where near you while half of your face is covered in butter."
"C'mon, baby," Stiles bats his lashes at him. "I bet it makes me taste good."
"Don't need butter to like how you taste," Derek says lowly, almost shyly, as he glares down at Stiles' popcorn bucket.
And that's a little glimpse at the Derek Stiles saw when they first met, mumbling sweet but kind of filthy things under his breath while Stiles tries desperately to keep his reactions to him in check.
It's a lot easier doing it while he's sitting down and, you know, not running the risk of tripping and falling face down on the ground.
"Okay, you have to kiss me after saying that," Stiles says just as quietly, lips twitching up.
Derek presses his lips together and picks up one of their many napkins, wiping Stiles' face clean of grease and salt. He doesn't stop there, making Stiles take a sip of his soda and eating about seven gummi bears before he judges it's okay to lean in and kiss him.
Stiles is amused.
And then he's too busy for feeling anything other than the rush he always gets when Derek's mouth is on his own, both of them tasting sweet as Derek licks his way past the seam of Stiles's lips and into his mouth.
And if they get thrown out of the theater because a woman thinks it's innapropriate to make out while shit's blowing up on screen, well, Stiles doesn't really care.
From: Lydia
When are you going to introduce us to your boyfriend, Stiles? It's been over two months.
From: Scott
bro lydia cant stop asking about derek and when we r going to meet him i don't kno what to say but just a heads up it has to be soon shes starting to get scary
From: Danny
if you bring derek with you next time we all have dinner together i'll bring ethan. that way lydia will satisfy her curiosity and we won't have a nervous breakdown because of all the pressure. what do you think? y/y
From: Allison
I know this is totally ur call but what do you think of inviting Derek to have dinner with us when we next get together? I think all of us would like to meet him :))
From: Jackson
If I have to hear Lydia complain about you keeping your boyfriend away from us one more time I'm going to stab you.
It's on the third night Derek stays over - after teaching Stiles how to make Coke Chicken with Herbed Potatoes - that Stiles brings it up.
Or the morning after, really.
After they've eaten and Derek has declared Stiles' meal another success and they've both cleaned up and gone to bed, snuggling.
After Stiles wakes up with his face pressed against the back of Derek's neck and his hair tickling Stiles' nose and his hand being held in a tight grip against Derek's chest.
After Stiles starts kissing him awake, light at first, just a quick press of lips to Derek's shoulder and neck and that spot behind his ear.
After Derek turns on his back, Stiles' hand still in his as he pulls him so Stiles is on top of him and can get to his mouth.
After morning breath kisses and finally getting up and going to brush their teeth and Stiles smiling at Derek's Batman toothbrush and mint flavored kisses this time.
"I'm making us breakfast," Stiles tells him as they walk out of the bedroom, neither of them bothering with clothes as they step into the kitchen. "I make mean scrambled eggs."
"Good to know," Derek says, voice a little rough with sleep as he flops down on a chair and rests his forehead against the table.
Derek's not really a morning person.
He's always awake enough for kisses, but if you ask him to cook or do anything that takes a little more work, he'll shut down on you.
Stiles has learned to leave him be for a few minutes while he gets breakfast ready, directing some questions his way so he can hear Derek grunt and make sure he didn't fall asleep with his head against the table.
It's been known to happen.
Or at least it did, the first morning they spent together.
And if Stiles has pictures of Derek snoring with his mouth open and drooling on his kitchen table, no one needs to know.
Stiles sets a mug of coffee in front of Derek and pokes him in the neck, grinning when Derek straightens up like he's been shot and then makes a humming sound at the back of his throat when he sees the mug and grabs it to take a sip.
He doesn't say anything as he makes the eggs, neither when he serves them on two plates and sets them on the table for both of them to eat.
Derek is looking more aware now that he's had his first cup of coffee, letting out an appreciative moan when he starts eating.
"'s really good," Derek says as he chews, eyebrows arching a little.
"Don't sound so surprised. I can make breakfast," Stiles scrunches his nose up at him. "Or I can make some breakfast, and scrambled eggs is on that list."
Derek just nods at him, still eating, and not entirely awake.
Stiles rolls his eyes at him.
It's when Derek is helping him with the dishes that Stiles thinks it's a good time to mention all of his friends have been texting him pretty much non stop asking Stiles when he's going to bring Derek to them.
Stiles wonders if Derek will think it's hypocritical of him to not have introduced him yet, especially when Stiles pretty much knows Derek's entire family.
And especially when Derek wanting to keep Stiles away from them was the reason they had their first fight.
He hopes Derek doesn't.
"I have something I want to run by you," Stiles says as he rinses the last of the mugs and hands it to Derek so he can dry it.
"Okay," Derek nods, throwing the dishcloth over his shoulder so he can put away the mug.
Stiles bites his lips, figuring going straight to the point will make this easier for both of them.
"I want you to meet my friends."
Derek freezes in the process of folding Stiles' dishcloth and setting it aside, the fabric hanging limply and damp against his fingers.
He blinks at Stiles a couple of times before saying, "I need more than that."
More.
Okay.
Stiles can do more.
"I know I mentioned bringing them to the opening with me," Stiles ignores the way Derek's lips thin at that. "But we both know what a horrible idea that was. That'll put a lot of pressure on you and me and our relationship that I don't really think we need or will know how to deal with. I know meeting them is a big step, but it doesn't feel right to me knowing practically everyone you care about when you only know Danny and Lydia. So I'd like you to meet them. Before the opening. Like, let's say, at dinner. Next weekend. At Danny's."
"Dinner," Derek repeats. "Next weekend."
"If you want to," Stiles amends. "I'd really like it if you did, but if you think it's too soon or the idea makes you uncomfortable, then we can think about introducing you to them some other time."
Derek stares at him for a few moments, a thoughtful on his face.
"Can we talk about this sitting down?"
"Sure," Stiles agrees quickly. "Couch?"
Derek nods and turns on his back as he walks to the living room, sitting back on the couch as he waits for Stiles to join him.
When he does, it's only to have Derek throw an arm around his shoulders and pull him closer.
Which Stiles doesn't really think it's a good idea right now.
All that naked skin touching his when he's supposed to be having an important conversation distracts him a little.
"Tell me about this dinner," Derek asks him, eyes intent on Stiles face.
Stiles gives him a quick rundown on how they do things, agreeing to meet on someone's place and having dinner whenever they're all off at the same time.
"Next week our schedules sync again, and it's Danny's turn to host," Stiles explains. "And the host can never pick what food we're eating, so we have another rotation for that. This time that falls to Allison, so we'll eat whatever she chooses, unless one of us has some kind of allergy. Like the time Jackson took us to that sushi place and Scott almost died because he didn't know he was not supposed to eat shrimp."
"And you want me to come with you," Derek says. "So I can meet all of them."
"Yes," Stiles nods promptly. "I do."
"Next weekend."
"Yes."
Derek takes a few more seconds just staring at him, before he sighs and says, "I- My problem was never- I'd like to meet them."
Stiles blinks at him, "And I'd like you to finish that sentence."
Derek gives him an unimpressed look before doing as Stiles asked, "My problem was never meeting them. I feel like you think this might be uncomfortable for me because of what- because of what happened with my family, and how it's difficult for me to bring people close to them. But I'd like to do that with you, with your friends, I'd like to get to know them, know the people that are important to you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Then can I let everyone know they'll have an extra guest at dinner this time?"
"You can," Derek says, lips curling up.
Stiles gives him a small smile and closes the distance between them, hand coming to rest against the side of Derek's neck as he kisses him, lips moving dry and chaste against each other.
And then he pulls back, walking to his room to get his phone, and flops down on the couch next to Derek.
To: Lydia
next weekend at dinner! try to contain your excitement
To: Scott
no worries dude she's not gonna bother you anymore. derek's coming to dinner w/ me next weekend
To: Danny
y
To: Allison
he'd like to meet you guys too! i'm bringing him with me next week :D
To: Jackson
dick
"Done," Stiles grins at Derek, dropping his phone against his side. "I hope you like them."
"I think I will," Derek rubs their noses together. "They like you. It'd be hard not to like people with such obvious good taste."
Stiles bursts out laughing, head dropping to rest against Derek's bare shoulder as he feels Derek's smile pressing against the side of his head.
"I don't know why you had to take us hiking instead of doing this," Stiles says, spreading his arms wide and gesturing at the park in front of them.
"You mean you don't know why I had to take you out in the nature when you can fill your quota by spreading a blanket on the grass and talking about how much you love the outside," Derek raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at the blanket folded over Stiles' arm.
"Exactly," Stiles smiles at him.
A smile that only widens when Derek rolls his eyes at him and the corners of his lips twitch up, both of them walking around the park in search for a spot so they can lie down and enjoy the warm afternoon.
Kind of cheesy, he knows.
It's a way for them to relax after the last couple of weeks full of sharing and communicating and having feelings.
You know, just so they can enjoy each other's company without the added pressure of needing to have a conversation about abusive ex-girlfriends.
Plus, Stiles has his iPod hidden in his pocket and a pair of earphones in case lying around in the sun starts to get boring.
"How about over there?" Derek asks, pointing at a nearby tree casting some shade on the grass, with no other people close to it.
"If I knew you'd pick the best spots, I would have suggested this sooner," Stiles says, pecking him on the cheek.
Derek helps Stiles spread the blanket over the grass, shaking his head with a fond expression on his face as Stiles promptly lies down on it and pats the empty space beside him.
Derek follows, lying down so their sides brush, fingers tangling with Stiles' own where their hands lay between them.
"This is nice," Stiles says after a while, thumb brushing against Derek's knuckles.
"You're bored, aren't you?" Derek asks, voice slow and quiet.
"Yes," Stiles sighs, turning on his side and propping himself on an elbow so he can look down at Derek.
And see the lazy smile he has on his lips, eyes almost shut, cheeks flushed red as the sun shines down on both of them.
"You're enjoying this," Stiles states, pressing his lips together when Derek makes an affirmative sound at the back of his throat. "Like, really enjoying this. Like laying around in the sun is the best thing you could ever think of doing all day."
"Like the sun," Derek slurs. "'s warm."
"Yes, it is," Stiles agrees, tone teasing. "And it's also bright."
"'s good."
"You're almost asleep, aren't you?"
Derek nods and makes that little sound again, eyes closing as he takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose, body relaxing completely.
"You're like a cat," Stiles says, bringing a hand up so he can brush his fingers through Derek's hair.
Who totally leans into it.
Like a cat.
"I feel like I should be filming this," Stiles muses out loud.
"No filming," Derek mumbles. "'s not nice."
"Not nice like the sun."
"Sun's okay," Derek tells him, raising a hand to pat half heartedly at Stiles stomach before dropping it limply by his side. "You're more okay."
"I glad you think so, big guy," Stiles smiles down at him. "You're not so bad yourself."
Derek hums in what could be offense for being not so bad himself or thank you for being called nice, rubbing his head back against Stiles' hand so he can start running his fingers through Derek's hair again.
He does that for a few minutes, thinking Derek has finally fallen asleep when he's breathing steadies and his eyes slide shut.
Until Derek turns his head in Stiles' direction and slurs, "Kisses."
Stiles blinks down at him, lips forming a smirk as he leans down and asks, "You want kisses?"
"Kisses," Derek says again, puckering his lips and waiting for Stiles to do as he's told.
Stiles laugh against Derek' mouth, swallowing Derek's own half smile with his lips and tongue.
He keeps it light, knowing they're in a public place and some people might not appreciate seeing two men making out on top of a blanket.
Even if they're really hot men.
If Stiles says so himself.
When he breaks the kiss is to Derek sighing contentedly and curling his fingers against Stiles' shirt, tugging him forward.
"Down," Derek says, using the other had to point to what could be the free space beside him or the entire expanse of the park.
Stiles can't help but remember the time he was concussed, letting his amused smile break out on his face knowing it's okay to grin because this time Derek's not injured.
He's just summer sun sleepy.
"Want me to lie down with you?"
Derek nods, pulling him down with a little more strength.
Not that it's enough to make Stiles move, Derek's limbs all warm and heavy and really not coordinated right now.
Stiles still does it, though, sliding down on the blanket until he can flop down by Derek's side, resting his head on Derek's shoulder and throwing a hand over his stomach.
"Sleep," Derek pats at his face, almost poking Stiles in the eye with a finger. "Sleep's good."
"Alright," Stiles presses his smile against the side of Derek's neck. "We'll sleep."
Derek takes that as permission to sigh heavily before letting his body relax completely, and Stiles knows that a few seconds later he's asleep.
Dead to the world.
Not even waking when a dog passes by, barking at its owner.
And Stiles is finding hard to keep his eyes open himself, grabbing his phone from his pocket and setting the alarm for a couple of hours so they can make sure to be awake when the sun's still up.
He falls asleep like that, warmed by the sun, Derek's scent on his nose, and a small smile curled on his lips.
And wakes up about an hour and a half later to the feeling of being watched.
"Don't be creepy," Stiles mumbles against Derek's-
That's not Derek's shoulder.
He opens his eyes to see he has his face smashed against Derek's stomach, the arm that was thrown over Derek's belly now firmly placed on his hip, Stiles' hand clutching at the fabric of Derek's shirt on his back.
"This is not how I started," Stiles points out, but making no move to either slide or sit up.
"No, it isn't," Derek says, hand a warm weight against the back of Stiles' neck.
Stiles can practically hear the grin in his voice.
"Still comfortable, though," Stiles says, making his point by nuzzling Derek's shirt.
"Glad you think so."
Stiles makes an agreeable sound at the back of his throat and closes his eyes again, "How long can I stay like this before we have to go?"
"It depends on whether you want to go grocery shopping before or after it gets dark."
"'fore."
"Then we have half an hour."
"'kay," Stiles says, arching his neck so Derek's hand moves. "You can play with my hair if you wanna."
Stiles knows he's not being subtle.
He never is when it comes to snuggling or having Derek's nails scratching at his scalp until he's all relaxed and it's too much of an effort to move.
They stay like that for half an hour, Stiles pretending to be asleep and Derek letting him.
Until he does an ab curl and gets his teeth on the shell of Stiles' ear to wake him up.
What he gets instead is a full body shudder and Stiles swearing under his breath as he sits up like he's been shocked.
Derek is staring at him with his eyebrows raised, eyes glinting, and lips tight as if he's trying not to laugh.
"Shut up," Stiles grumbles, getting up and pushing Derek off the blanket with the toe of his shoe.
"Your ears," Derek says, taking the hint and helping Stiles with the blanket. "Really? That's what does it for you?"
Stiles purses his lips together and tries to will away the blush already starting on his cheeks, "So?"
"Nothing," Derek shakes his head, taking Stiles' hand in his as they walk through the park and to Stiles' Jeep. "It's just good to know, I guess."
Stiles eyes him warily through the corner of his eyes, shrugging one shoulder, "As long as you don't use that knowledge in public."
"Do we run the risk of getting arrested if I do?"
"Yep," Stiles says, popping the 'p'. "We most definitely do."
Stiles doesn't think he needs to tell Derek that biting his ear is like a direct line to his dick.
And that it drives him absolutely fucking crazy.
Climbing someone like a tree and taking their clothes off as fast as humanly possible kind of crazy crazy.
The kind that doesn't even care if they're at home or in their car or lying on a blanket in a park.
Stiles is actually kind of proud of himself from not crowding Derek against a tree and rutting against his leg until he came.
Derek squeezes his hand, "I'll try not to, then."
Stiles throws the blanket on the back seat of the Jeep as he waits for Derek to close the door, "What do we need to buy?"
"I have a list," Derek tells him, sticking a hand into his back pocket and pulling it out as Stiles drives off.
Of course he does.
"And what's on that list?"
"Things to make Taco Sandwiches," Derek says lightly, smirking when he hears Stiles' gasp.
"Taco Sandwiches?"
"Taco Sandwiches."
"But I know how to make Taco Sandwiches," Stiles frowns at the road in front of him.
"I know," Derek tells him. "I figured I could give you some time off from the kitchen and make you something."
Stiles glances at him, lips tugged up in a half smile, "That's sweet."
"I'm known for my sweetness," Derek deadpans.
Stiles snorts, shaking his head, "You're known for you surliness. And incredible good looks. And for having the best taste in boyfriends, if I do say so myself."
"I don't know why I like you, really."
"It's cos I'm awesome, boo," Stiles one hand off the steering wheel so he can pat Derek on the cheek.
Only he ends up patting him somewhere between his jaw and neck.
Still, it gets his point across.
"Don't ever call me boo again," Derek narrows his eyes at him, poking him in the ribs.
Stiles yelps, but grins and keeps on driving.
a/n: the emotional abuse is touched right at the beginning of this chapter, when stiles is thinking over about his relationship with derek and derek's actions and reactions on certain things, and the knowledge he has about it coming from mrs. mccall past relationship with scott's dad.
the emotional manipulation is mentioned when stiles and derek are cooking and derek starts talking about an ex-girlfriend who used him to get to his mother, and to get a better job position.