The Feeling That I'm Under

by wearing-tearing

[TFTIU #1] Stiles is a paramedic and Derek gets into a bike accident. It's kind of love at first sight.

17. Chapter 17

a/n: warning for kink negotiation. check the end notes for details (and spoilers)!

---

"No, wait. Stop!"

"What? Why?" Derek asks, frowning.

"Just- Wait a second," Stiles says, lifting one hand up in a wait motion.

The other he sticks into his front pocket, tongue peeking out from between his teeth as he tries to digs his keys from his jeans.

He makes a tiny sound of victory when he gets a good grip on the keychain, grinning widely when he tugs his hand up and jungles his keys in front of Derek's face.

"Why did we have to wait for you to get your keys when I have mine right here?" Derek sighs, looking down at his own palm.

"Because," Stiles drawls out, still smiling. "This is gonna be the first time in the New Year I get to use my own keys to open the door to your place."

Derek's exasperated look turns to one of deep fondness, and his own lips are curling up as he shakes his head at Stiles and says, "You're an idiot."

Stiles shrugs, "At least I'm your idiot."

"Go ahead, then," Derek says, gesturing to the door.

"The honor is all mine," Stiles sniffs, biting down on his bottom lip as he turns to the door and sticks his key in the lock.

It gives him a little rush knowing he's doing this with a key Derek gave to him, specifically so he could come and go into his apartment whenever he pleased.

And sure, maybe the point was for him to use it when Derek wasn't right there with him, but still.

He likes it.

A lot.

Something he doesn't hesitate to show as soon as they're inside by crowding Derek against the door when they close it shut behind them, pressing his smile against Derek's own.

It's been a week since New Years, and with the exception of Peter going back to New York two days ago, things have been going great between them.

More than great, actually.

But, again, with the exception of Peter leaving.

Because it doesn't need saying that Peter going away takes its toll on Derek, even though it was obvious to everyone Peter wasn't enjoying spending that much time in Beacon Hills.

Stiles can't really blame him.

God knows he still has a hard time going to or passing by certain places in town without thinking of his mom, so he can't even imagine what it must be like for him.

Or any of the Hales, really.

Thinking about it, Stiles has no idea how Talia managed to come back after everything that happened to them here, but he figures Beacon Hills was the lesser evil, considering everything that happened to them in New York.

And even though Derek spends the day of Peter's leave brooding, it's still not as much as he would have if this had happened, let's say, three months ago.

It also helps that Stiles manages to distract him by convincing Derek to teach him how to cook something new.

He even gets him to crack a smile or two when they're washing dishes and Stiles accidentally goes to scratch his nose and ends up with suds up his nostrils.

Stiles isn't amused.

But it gets Derek to help him clean up without laughing at him too much.

And then kiss the tip of his nose before saying there, it's all better.

So it's not like Stiles is going to complain.

Much.

And another thing Stiles suspectes helps a lot with Derek's mood is his therapist telling him she thinks it's time for them to down their session to only once a week, only on Mondays. She says she's happy with their progress and how far Derek's come since they started seeing each other, something Derek tells him on his first time using the key Stiles gave him to his apartment.

It still makes Stiles' heart flip remembering the warmth and happiness and sense of right he felt when he heard his door unlocking and turned his head to see Derek walking into his apartment, his lips curled up in a faint smile.

But back then Stiles wasn't able to jump Derek and show him exactly just how much he liked this new development, since Derek just wanted to wrap himself around him and talk about what happened.

Not that they're any less close at the moment, but right now Stiles has the pleasure of having Derek's tongue in his mouth and his thigh between Derek's spread legs.

And he has to say, Stiles kind of likes this better.

Especially when Derek gets his hands on Stiles' ass and pulls Stiles' body flush against his own, entire body shuddering as he grinds their hips together, teeth coming down to nip at Stiles' bottom lip.

Yep, Stiles definitely likes this better.

"C'mon," Stiles says, breaking the kiss and pushing his ass into Derek's hands in an effort to make him let go. "Bedroom. Where there's a bed and it's warm and we can both be horizontal and get naked."

"We can get naked right here," Derek murmurs, lips catching Stiles' again in a open-mouthed kiss.

"Yeah, well," Stiles breathes out, tilting his head to the side as Derek starts making his way down his neck. "Maybe I don't want you to catch a cold."

Derek pulls back, eyebrows raised, lips red and swollen and slick with spit.

Stiles forgets himself for a second.

Until Derek says, in that dry tone of his, "Really."

Stiles makes a face at him.

And then shrugs one shoulder, "Maybe I also want to try something new."

"Something new?" Derek asks, eyes flickering with interest.

"We'll, I mean, not new. Just something we haven't done before. And sure, it doesn't necessarily need to be done in a bed," Stiles explains, licking his lips. "But it kind of needs the lotion you keep hidden in one of your nightstand drawers. You know, to make things smoother."

Derek presses his lips together, as if trying not to smile.

And also as if trying to will his cheeks not to flush.

He doesn't really succeed.

On both accounts.

Stiles grins, pleased with himself.

And then makes a little sound of surprise when Derek's hands tighten on his ass and he's pulled forward again, falling against Derek's chest, Derek's mouth on his own.

"Alright," Derek says, pulling back and letting go of him altogether. "Let's see what you have in mind."

Stiles doesn't waste any time following him to the bedroom, getting his arms around Derek's waist and pressing kisses to his nape as they walk together.

They still haven't done much when it comes to sex, so Stiles suggesting they do something new is not really a surprise.

Something new that's only the tip of the iceberg of all the thousand different things that Stiles wants to try with his boyfriend, and he can't wait to get to it.

Because, I mean, really.

It's Derek.

And it's sex.

Two of Stiles favorite things in the world combined.

He can't resist.

If he's being honest with himself, he doesn't even try.

But like all things with Derek, it takes Derek a while to get completely comfortable and relaxed when trying new things, so even though they've taken their relationship forward, they still take things slow.

And Stiles always makes sure to let Derek know he'll stop whenever he wants to.

Not that that seems to be a problem right now, with Derek turning around in Stiles' arms and tugging at Stiles' clothes, getting his hands under his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders.

Stiles let's go of him so it can slide down his arms and to the floor, hands going to the hem of Derek's sweater to pull it up and off as soon as he can.

Running his hands up and down the expanse of Derek's chest and abs is also something Stiles doesn't think twice before doing, always fascinated with the ripple of muscle and warmth of his skin.

And how he gets to be the one to touch him, kiss him, lick him, bite him.

Which he does, ducking his head down and latching on Derek's collarbone, nails scratching down at Derek's sides, fingers hooking on the waistband of his jeans.

Stiles grins at Derek's sharp intake of breath, at Derek's hand tightening the hold he has on the back of Stiles' neck, at the way he arches up into Stiles' teeth.

Because as much as Derek seems to love getting to bite and nip every inch of Stiles' body, he likes it even better when Stiles is the one doing that to him.

Stiles agrees.

And that only makes him slide his mouth downward and bite at the skin just above Derek's left nipple.

Hard.

Laughing when Derek hisses a breath through his teeth before getting his fingers on Stiles' hair and tugging him up.

"Fuck, Stiles," Derek curses, looking down at the quickly reddening indents of Stiles' teeth on his skin.

Stiles hums, all smugness and pride, one hand coming up so he can trace the bruise with the pad of his thumb.

"Looks good," Stiles says, licking his lips. "My mark on you."

"Also hurts," Derek mumbles, eyes glued to the little circles Stiles keeps making with his finger.

By the way his cheeks tinge pink and he licks his lips, Stiles knows that's not a bad thing.

"Sorry," Stiles says, dropping his lips to press a sloppy kiss to the mark. "There, all better now."

Derek snorts, amused, tipping his head to bring his mouth to Stiles' own.

And taking his revenge by clamping his teeth down on Stiles' bottom lip and tugging.

Hard.

Unlike Derek, Stiles doesn't hiss.

He whimpers.

And his knees go weak as he melts against Derek's body, dick now fully and painfully hard in his jeans.

The self-satisfied smirk Derek gives him at that kind of makes Stiles wants to slap him, but he settles for getting his hands flat over Derek's chest and pushing him down on the bed, stomach flipping when Derek lets out a breathless laugh.

His eyes are bright when he hooks a hand on the back of Stiles' neck and pulls his head down, tilting his own up before placing a light kiss on Stiles' lips.

"There," Derek deadpans. "All better now."

"Oh my god," Stiles groans, shaking his head at him and letting Derek kiss him again, both of them now smiling, their teeth clinking together.

Only for Derek to tense all over and the smile slip from his face when Stiles straddles him, leaning backwards as he breaks the kiss and holds himself completely still.

And away from Stiles.

And that's-

That's not-

Stiles gets off of him like he's been burned, taking three steps back away from Derek, running his hand over his hair as he tries to figure out what the fuck just happened, what made Derek look like that.

What's making Derek still look like that, even though Stiles is not straddling him anymore.

What's making him look scared.

Fucking terrified.

And now like he fucked something up, his face paling as he takes in the distance Stiles put between them.

And Stiles can't have that.

He doesn't know how much contact Derek will be okay with right now, so he's slow on his movements as he takes a step forward and lowers his hand, throat clicking when he swallows.

But before he can even open his mouth to ask his what's wrong, Derek bolts upright.

And breaks Stiles' heart when he starts apologizing.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't-," Derek shakes his head, looking anywhere but at Stiles. "I didn't mean. I'm sorry. I'll go if you want-"

Stiles is in front of the door and blocking Derek's path before he can even think twice about it, hands raised in front of him, palms to Derek.

Because this is fucked up.

Nope, scratch that.

Derek apologizing for not liking something Stiles is doing and saying he can leave if Stiles wants him to, when this is Derek's home, is beyond fucked up.

"You're not going anywhere," Stiles says, and immediately corrects himself when Derek flinches. "I don't want you to leave. And you don't have to apologize about whatever this- You don't have to say you're sorry whenever I do something you're not comfortable with, because it's not your fault. What you do have to do is call me on it, or tell me to stop."

Derek presses his lips together, body coiled tight, as if he's trying to make himself look smaller.

And he's acting so much like he used to before Stiles found out about Kate, before Derek got help, like he's somehow a screw up that won't ever get anything right, that it breaks Stiles' heart all over again.

"I always told you we can talk about things," Stiles tells him, voice tipped low. "And I think what just happened there is definitely something we should have a conversation about. Because I don't ever want to do something you don't like, and I don't ever want you to think that you either have to apologize for not liking it or have to suck it up and deal with it just because it's coming from me. Okay?"

It takes Derek a few seconds, but Stiles doesn't miss the small nod of his head saying he gets it.

Stiles gives him a nod of his own, lowering his hands.

"Okay," Stiles says, taking a deep breath. "Now how about we get dressed and go back to the living room? I'll make us some hot chocolate and we'll talk about all of this."

Stiles doesn't think staying in the bedroom is a good idea, Derek's living room being somewhat of a neutral place for them to have this conversation while still being comfortable. And the offer of hot chocolate being a little something he can do to help them with that.

Derek blinks at him, gaze finally meeting Stiles' since he got up from the bed, a look on his face that's part hesitancy, part dread, and part confusion.

"Hot chocolate?" Derek asks, voice so low Stiles almost misses it.

"I'll even put marshmallows on it if you want," Stiles says softly, lips twitching up.

Otherwise, he thinks he'll burst into tears.

Derek nods minutely - the confusion gone from his expression -, not moving until Stiles is the one to turn on his side and take a step towards the door, following behind him when Stiles makes his way out of the bedroom.

Stiles tells him to wait for him in the living room, only going to the kitchen after Derek sits down on his couch, closing his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face as soon as he's out of Derek's line of sight.

This is not what he was expecting the night to be like.

And even though it leaves him with a sick feeling in his stomach to have Derek react that strongly, and not in a good way, to something he did, he figures the silver lining is that they'll be able to talk about it and figure out what went wrong so it never happens again.

He wonders if he should have had this conversation with Derek before they started having sex with each other, instead of just winging it. If they should have established limits and discussed likes and dislikes before they started doing anything, especially considering how hesitant Derek was when it came to sleeping with someone.

Stiles fails at not feeling guilty for not doing so, worrying at his bottom lip as goes about making comfort drinks for him and Derek.

It doesn't help that when he walks back into the living room he sees Derek's shoulders tense as he gets close, Stiles settling for handing him his mug before sitting on one end of the couch while Derek's on the other instead of being close to him.

He doesn't really like this distance between them, but from what he's getting from the look on Derek's face this might be the best thing right now.

"So," Stiles starts, watching as Derek takes a sip of his drink and keeps his eyes downcast. "Can you tell me what triggered you?"

He doesn't bother not getting right to the point, knowing this is something they need to talk about right away.

Or something they should have talked about in length at Thanksgiving.

You know, before getting naked and rutting against each other until they came all over themselves.

Stiles knows one of the reasons they didn't talk much about it was because he was way too eager to get to do that with Derek after so many months of them being together, but now that he recognizes what a mistake it was not to bring it up, he's determined to fix it.

And to make sure he never puts Derek in that position again, make sure he's never again that scared or triggered by something Stiles does because he doesn't know any better.

Or because he never asked Derek about it.

He also needs to make Derek understand that if there's anything he knows he doesn't like or doesn't want to do because it reminds him of not-so-good times, he should always speak his mind.

Because a relationship is a two-way street, and theirs is not gonna work if only one of them is willing to make an effort.

"Derek?" Stiles prompts when Derek stays silent, tone soft but still firm.

Because he can tell by the set of Derek's jaw and the skittish look in his eyes that he does not want to talk about this. Like he'd much rather have Stiles let him leave his own place than to explain to him what just happened.

And after a few more seconds of silence it dawns on Stiles why.

Because with Derek it all goes back to him thinking everything is somehow his fault, on his shoulders, because he was the only one who did something wrong.

After knowing Scott and Mrs. McCall for so long, Stiles is aware that all they went through when Scott's dad was around left behind scars.

He also knows that Derek's relationship with Kate did the same thing.

But what he forgot was that it takes a lot of time for scars like that to heal, even when the person who was hurt has all of the support and love in the world.

And considering how much better Derek was dealing with everything since he started therapy, it slipped Stiles' mind that that didn't mean Derek was over everything that happened to him.

Something he now won't be able to forget.

Not when he's staring at Derek in front of him and watching as he slumps into himself and presses his lips so tight together they turn white.

"Derek," Stiles says again, eyes never leaving him. "I'm not angry at you."

Stiles knows that's both the right and wrong thing to say when Derek simultaneously relaxes a little but also flushes in embarrassment, like he's mentally putting himself down for having that thought cross his mind when Stiles never gave him a reason to think like that in the first place.

He chances shifting on the couch so that he can slide an inch closer to Derek, careful not to spill hot chocolate on himself.

"I'm-," Stiles stops, breathes out slowly through his nose, starts again. "I'm not angry at you. We should have talked about this before, and I'm sorry we didn't. But don't think any of this is your fault alone, because it's not. It's both of our faults. As much as I should have asked you if you had any triggers when it came to sex, you also should have told me about them before we did anything. I'm sorry we didn't have that conversation, and I'm sorry that as a result I did something you weren't okay with and made you feel like being with me is not a safe place for you."

Derek's head snaps up to him so fast Derek almost spills hot chocolate over his hands, his eyes wide and incredulous as he looks up at Stiles and tries to make sense of what he just heard.

And it makes Stiles' heart shatter into a million pieces to have Derek look that vulnerable, like the idea of someone apologizing to him and being sorry for not taking care of him properly is still somewhat of a surprise to him.

"What happened back there was not only your fault," Stiles tells him, sliding another inch closer to Derek. "We both fucked up. And that happens when two people are dating. Sometimes they do shit that doesn't go over very well, so they sit down and talk about it and try to work things out. Like we're doing right now," Stiles blinks. "Well, only with more talking from your side and more listening from mine."

He sees Derek swallowing, eyes drinking Stiles' face, before he looks back down at his mug.

"She used to-," Derek stops, lips turning down, shoulders tensing. "When we were- With Kate- She liked being on top. Actually, that's pretty much how we ever- So when you straddled me in bed, I- It reminded me of-"

Derek cuts off, face twisting into something that makes Stiles reach out a hand and place his fingers lightly over Derek's arm, grounding him.

"It's okay," Stiles says, swallowing back bile as he watches Derek trying to get a hold on his emotions. "No straddling you in bed. I got it. I won't do it again. Ever."

The grateful look Derek gives him at that makes Stiles die a little bit inside, and feel even more guilty about not talking to him about this until tonight.

After they already made a mess of things between them.

"Is there anything else?" Stiles asks, because they need to get everything out there so what happened tonight won't ever happen again. "Something that you don't feel comfortable with because you don't like it or because- Or because it brings back bad memories?"

Stiles' hands curl into fists at their own accord as he gets the last part out, part of him wanting to, once again, hunt Kate down and hurt her for what she did.

Derek's eyes dart around the room as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, which is a pretty good indicator that yes, there is something else. Something that by the looks of it has been weighing on his mind for a while, but he hasn't said anything about it until now.

Until Stiles asked.

And that goes so much with the way Derek is, always hesitant at first and then opening himself up or taking charge of things after he knows what people expect from and of him, that Stiles just sips his cooling hot chocolate as he waits for an answer.

And then promptly chokes when Derek says, "I don't know how comfortable I'd be topping."

Because that's-

That's-

He was not expecting that.

He was expecting something like Derek not liking being pinned down or restrained or having his toes sucked on, but not-

Not this.

Not-

Not this, not at all.

And Derek's just staring at him with his face completely devoid of emotion as Stiles tries not to cough up a lung, as if guarding himself from something.

Probably from Stiles' violent reaction to what he said.

Which makes Stiles quickly give one last cough before taking a deep breath, wiping the tears from his eyes with the pad if his thumb.

"I'm sorry," Stiles rasps out. "It's just- You took me by surprise."

Derek's only response is a twitch of eyebrows that says no shit, his expression smoothing out again as he continues to stare at Stiles.

And now that he's not busy trying not to choke to death, Stiles can see the tension is back on Derek's shoulders, his knuckles white as he holds on to his mug.

And Stiles-

Stiles can't have that.

He can't have Derek thinking the reason why he reacted the way he did was because he's not okay with what Derek said, but because he was took totally off guard.

"I still mean it when I say we won't do anything you're not comfortable with," Stiles tells him after taking a careful sip of his drink. "That includes you topping. I don't have a preference when it comes to that, not really. I'm good with both ways. More than good, actually. I'm great with whatever it is you want to do, whether that's you fucking me or me fucking you."

Stiles' voice cracks at the end, his dick giving an interest and completely inappropriate twitch as the images of him fucking Derek and Derek pounding into him flood his mind.

By the press of Derek's lips and the pink on the tips fonts ears, Stiles knows his own eyes must be glazed over and the look on his face must clue Derek in to what he's thinking.

"I'm still-," Derek starts, stops, licks his lips. "I don't think I'm ready to- At least not yet."

"That's okay," Stiles says, kind of expecting it already. "I told you we don't have to do the whole butt sex thing until we're both on the same page."

Derek nods, looking relieved.

It's a good change from all the looks he's had since they came from the bedroom, and the final push Stiles needs to slide the last few inches until he's sitting right next to Derek, their knees bumping together.

"Can I-," Stiles glances at him from the corner of his eye. "Can I ask why you don't think you'd be comfortable with it?"

"I don't know if- I don't know how much it'll remind me of- So I don't think I can do it."

He doesn't know how much it'll remind him of Kate.

Stiles kind of wants to break her.

"But do you think..." Stiles trails off, not really knowing how to ask.

Or even if he should ask.

"Do I think I'd be willing to try in the future?"

And Stiles forgets that for someone so hesitant and sometimes closed off, Derek is pretty good at picking up his queues.

"Would you?"

"I don't know," Derek says honestly, looking down at his hands, brows furrowing. "I can't give you a concrete answer about that right now, but I'd like to say that yeah, I'd be willing to try."

Stiles bites down in his bottom lip, heart flipping at hearing Derek say that.

"We can talk about it later," Stiles says. "Much later. Much much later."

"In a distant future?" Derek asks, a little bit of teasing on his tone as he looks up at Stiles from under his lashes.

And Stiles gets all the butterflies at having Derek mention a distant future and hint that they'll still be together to have that kind of conversation.

"Yep," Stiles nods, lips curling up.

Derek bumps their knees together.

Stiles bumps him back.

"I'm sorry," Derek says after a few beats of silence, talking over Stiles when he opens his mouth to remind him again he doesn't need to apologize. "For freaking out. And trying to leave. I just- I wasn't thinking. Gut reaction, I guess. And thank you for- For making us talk about it. And asking questions and listening."

"You're most welcome," Stiles says, resting a hand on Derek's knee and squeezing it. "And I'm not naive enough to think we won't end up fucking up again and have to sit down and have other talks, but this is how it's supposed to work when you're dating someone. Fighting and messing up and talking about it and making up later."

"Making up?" Derek asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Sure," Stiles drawls out, one corner of his lips tugging up. "Like, how about we order Chinese and watch old reruns of The West Wing and talk over the characters while cuddling all night?"

Because as light and teasing as Derek's question was Stiles noticed the lack of want behind it, Derek asking just out of curiosity rather than because he planned to do something about it.

And even if he tried to, Stiles doesn't think he'd be okay with it, at least not with how they started the night.

"Okay," Derek says, nodding.

"Cool," Stiles smiles at him, finishing his hot chocolate.

Only to choke again, this time on laughter, when he hears Derek ask, "Can we also make out?"

---

From: Derek

Laura's hanging around the garage and she keeps smiling at nothing.

From: Derek

She also can't shut up about her date.

From: Derek

The last time I saw her this happy was because mom caught Cora trying to sneak a six pack into the apartment and made her do our laundry for a month as punishment.

---

"Did they tell you why they want us to come over?"

"For dinner."

Stiles rolls his eyes, "Besides that."

"I'm running on as much information as you are, Stiles," Lydia says, pursing her lips together. "But I do know Allison had an ultrasound this week."

"Do you think everything's okay?" Stiles asks, giving himself a moment to panic as he grips the steering wheel tightly.

"I don't think Scott and Allison would invite us over for dinner if there was something wrong," Lydia raises an eyebrow at him.

Stiles makes a face at her, "That's not really an answer."

Lydia shrugs but she doesn't look particularly worried, so Stiles figures he shouldn't be either. Because if there's one person who would know if there was anything wrong with Allison, that person is her.

It's still a bit strange to him that Scott and Allison only invited Stiles and Lydia over, though, instead of the whole gang.

And that they asked him to come alone, without Derek.

And sure, Scott told him everything was fine when Stiles asked, but still.

It's weird.

Usually when they see one another without everyone present is because they all tend to stop by each other's places without warning, because they most definitely do not call first to let them know their stopping by.

Let alone to invite each other over for dinner.

So Stiles is a little lost here, as he drives over to Mrs. McCall's old house, Lydia on the passenger seat with her hands clasped over her lap.

She has that cold and calculating look of hers as she tilts her head to the side and shifts in place so she can stare at the side of his face better, Stiles glancing at her every couple of seconds before looking back at the road.

"So how are things with you and Derek?"

"Things are good," Stiles tells her, because they are.

Much to his surprise, after the conversation they had, it's like an invisible weight has been lifted off of Derek's shoulders.

It makes Stiles feel about five times more guilty knowing that what they talked about four days ago was something Derek had been carrying around and worrying about it, but now that it's out there it's like Derek can finally let go when they're with each other.

Not that he was uncomfortable before, because Stiles would have put a stop to what they were doing if he caught the least bit of discomfort from Derek while they were together, but now it's like he can fully let himself enjoy what's happening and have fun.

Without have that little voice in the back of his head making him wonder about how Stiles would react to what he had to say when they got to the penetration part of the deal.

"Good," Lydia nods, as if congratulating him for a job well done.

"Proud of yourself?" Stiles shakes his head, lips curling up in a faint smirk.

"I am the one who introduced you two," Lydia sniffs, the look on her face telling Stiles that yes, she is.

"You talk like you set us up," Stiles huffs.

"Well," Lydia says slowly, twirling a strand of her hair around a finger. "I suppose I could have let you ride with Danielle. Or Jared. They both were by themselves. I just thought you'd appreciate Derek's company more."

Stiles gapes, not even able to stop the car so he can freak out about this properly, mouth opening and closing as Lydia's words sink in.

"Oh my god," Stiles gasps. "You set us up."

"You're welcome," Lydia says sweetily, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Stiles gapes some more.

"You are truly amazing and terrifying, Lydia Martin," Stiles says, incredulous. "I bow down to you."

"Of course you do," Lydia pats him on the shoulder, like she was expect nothing less.

"And you should be happy to know that Laura apparently can't keep her mouth shut about Dr. Grayson."

"I know," Lydia says, obviously pleased with herself.

"She's freaking Derek out with all the happiness," Stiles tells her, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from smiling. "And he says that if he has to listen to her talk about how hot or smart or amazing he is one more time, he's going to end up hurting someone."

Lydia's smile is razor sharp, perfectly glossed lips stretched over her teeth, eyes glinting.

"I feel like he's gonna end up hurting a lot of someones, then."

"Really?" Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow.

Because as much as he heard about Laura liking this guy, he didn't know she already liked him that much.

They only went on one date.

"She's thinking of keeping him around," Lydia nods, smile turning into something softer.

"Good for her," Stiles grins back at her, genuinely happy for Laura.

That lasts until they're parking in front of the house, Stiles' stomach flipping as they walk the steps up the front door, wondering again what made Scott and Allison call them over tonight.

Only to promptly stop when Scott opens the door just as Stiles is lifting his hand to knock, chest puffed out as he beams at them and announces, right then and there, "I'm having a daughter."

Stiles is too busy tackling Scott to the ground and hugging the shit out of him to hear Lydia's gasp of surprise.

And to hear Allison yell, "Godammit, Scott! I wanted to tell them!"

"Dude, that's awesome," Stiles grins down at Scott, trapping him in a headlock as Lydia steps inside and closes the door behind her.

"I know," Scott says, too happy to bother trying to get himself free.

Not that he needs to, when Allison walks up to them and crosses her arms over her chest, making her bump more visible.

And irresistible to Stiles as he immediately let's go of Scott so he can splay his hands over her stomach, ducking his head and grinning wide as he says, "Hey, little girl. It's your Uncle Stiles. I know you can't see our dumb smiles right now, but you should know we're all very happy you finally decided to uncross your legs for us."

"Stiles!" both Scott and Lydia scoff, horrified.

Allison just throws her head back and laughs, dimples showing, her cheeks flushed, "Tell me about it. I thought we'd have to wait until she was born to figure out if we were having a boy or a girl."

"You know what that means, right?" Lydia asks her, eyes twinkling.

"You can finally start planning the baby shower," Allison beams, laughing again when Lydia comes up to hug her tight.

"Oh god," Stiles groans. "Please tell me that's not why you invited us over."

Lydia narrows her eyes at him, while Scott scrunches up his nose and Allison shakes her head.

"That's not why we asked you to come here," Scott says, snaking an arm around Allison's waist. "But maybe we could talk about it after dinner?"

Stiles sighs, "Like I'd ever say no to you feeding me."

Scott rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything, the four of them making their way to the kitchen and helping Scott bring the food to the table.

It's not until they're in the middle of eating dessert that Stiles notices Allison and Scott sharing a glance, both of them getting a look on their faces that's half nerves and half excitement, and it takes about thirty seconds after that for Scott to clear his throat and say, "We'd like to ask you something."

"We were wondering," Allison says, looking from Scott to Stiles and Lydia, her teeth coming down to worry at her bottom lip. "If you two would like to be our daughter's godparents."

No matter what Scott likes to tell people, Stiles doesn't tear up.

Neither does Lydia.

In fact, the only thing the two of them do is accept their new titles as godparents to Baby McCall and go back to finish dessert.

Really.

And if Stiles hugs both Allison and Scott extra hard before leaving and his voice cracks with emotion as he kneels down and says his goodbyes to his goddaughter, no one needs to know.

Except Derek.

Who Stiles calls as soon as he gets to his apartment.

Only to have Derek says, "You're going to be an amazing uncle," and make Stiles promptly burst into tears again.

---

To: Derek

scott asked me today what i thought of mildred as a middle name

To: Derek

i don't know if i should be disappointed or horrified

To: Derek

you know what we're gonna do as soon as it starts to get warm because i miss your bike a lot?

To: Derek

we're going riding :D

To: Derek

i found twenty bucks in my jacket pocket today

To: Derek

and now i kind of feel like things are going way too well for all of us and something bad is gonna happen

To: Derek

mrs mccall asked me to let you know she's gonna bring her car in on tuesday

To: Derek

something about a whistling noise when she drives? idk

To: Derek

i told her you'd work your hot mechanic magic and fix it for her

---

"I don't need-"

"Don't argue with me."

"Stilinski-"

"Put your fucking mask back on."

"But I'm fine-"

"Who's the medical professional here?" Stiles snaps, knocking Jackson's hand away when he tries to take oxygen mask off again.

Stiles thinks Jackson makes a face at him, with the way Stiles can see his jaw clench and his brows furrow.

Stiles doesn't care.

He's too busy checking Jackson's vitals and trying not to freak out, lips thin as he stares at the soot covering Jackson's hands and face, expression hard as he remembers Jackson being carried out of the burning building by Scott.

Because he had to go and try to be a hero.

Stiles doesn't know whether he wants to hug him or punch him in the face.

They got a call at the end of their shift about a fire in one of the apartment complexes on the edge of town, firefighting assistance being needed only to put the fire out, since they already managed to evacuate all the tenants without trouble.

All the tenants except, apparently, a little girl's pet.

Which she made known to all firefighters around as she cried and screamed and thrashed against her parents' hold on her as she tried to run back inside the building.

And, sure, Stiles might have been about two seconds away from running inside himself and rescuing the little girl's dog, but that doesn't make Jackson's decision to do exactly that any less fucking stupid.

Especially when he knew the structure wasn't secure.

And when he did it without the proper breathing apparatus on.

And when that resulted in Scott running right after him and carrying his almost unconscious ass back outside while he coughed so hard he almost threw up.

Sure, Jackson might have saved the puppy, but he also might have fucking died.

And taken Scott with him.

Scott, who's going to be a dad in about four and a half months.

The only reason Stiles is not cursing him to hell and back right now is because he knows that as soon as Jackson is released, Finstock is going to rip him a new one.

And so will Lydia, when she sees him and finds out what happened.

He doesn't even want to know what Allison will do.

Or Danny, considering the way he's gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white and his entire face is twisted into something that's half pain and half pure rage.

"I told you I'm-" Jackson tries to protest again.

Not that he's convincing, when his voice comes out sounding like he's been smoking for the past fifty years.

And not that he gets a chance to say anything else, either.

Not when Danny slams his hands into the steering wheel and yells, "Just listen to him for once in your fucking life and keep your fucking mask on!"

Jackson is so startled he drops his hand as soon as Danny starts yelling at him.

Stiles doesn't know if he should be concerned about Danny snapping and acting anything less like the ball of calm and collected he always is or feel bad about the kicked look Jackson's now sporting.

He settles on feeling relieved that Jackson's not fiddling with the mask anymore, keeping check of his oxygen levels and making sure everything is as it should be.

"Is your throat still hurting?" Stiles asks, only for Jackson to look at him as if saying what the fuck do you think. "Your head, then? Or are you feeling nauseous?"

Jackson nods to both questions.

"Then you're not fine, are you?" Stiles raises an eyebrow, sighing when Jackson glares at him.

"ETA five minutes," Danny tells them, which helps Stiles relax a fraction.

Soon they'll be at the hospital and Jackson will be in good hands, hands that'll do what Stiles can't and isn't able to right now and fix Jackson right up. And he knows that with the threat of Dr. Lydia Martin hanging over their heads, every doctor in the hospital will make sure Jackson's a hundred percent okay before discharging him.

Mrs. McCall is one of the nurses that meets them out front, giving the three of them a disapproving look as she helps them get the stretcher out, making sure to linger on Jackson and show him exactly how not amused she is with what he did.

"Scott called ahead," Mrs. McCall says. "I'm not going to stand here and explain to you how stupid what you did was, because I'm sure you can imagine. You're just lucky Lydia's in the OR right now and Allison is busy with other patients, but make no mistake that I'll tell them exactly what happened and where you are as soon as I see them."

The way Jackson's face pales under the soot makes Stiles bite down on his tongue not to laugh.

That is until, Scott's mom turns to him and says, "Derek's here. He brought Erica down with him, something about an accident at the garage. I can take you to him, if you want to."

Stiles' entire body turns cold before warming again, the blood rushing in his ears making it almost impossible for him to hear Danny say, "Go see him. I'll stay here with this one."

He barely registers how pissed Danny must be to not even refer to Jackson by name, letting Mrs. McCall lead him through the ER by the arm, voice cracking when he asks, "Are they okay?"

"Derek's fine," Mrs. McCall says, smiling reassuringly at him. "Erica is the one getting stitches and a tetanus shot."

Stiles lets out a relieved breath at that, stomach still churning with worry at knowing Erica's hurt, but less than when he thought Derek was the one injured.

"Stiles?"

Mrs. McCall squeezes his arm and lets Stiles walk the final steps to Derek's side by himself, Stiles giving her a nod of thanks as he takes in a very worried looking Derek as he holds Erica's hand and a pale and shaky Erica as she sits on a hospital bed and looks anywhere but at the person giving the cut on her palm stitches.

"Hey," Stiles says as he gets close, lifting a hand so he can push Erica's curls away from her face, giving Derek a small smile when Derek looks at him in surprise. "I heard you had an accident."

"And you came here to see me?" Erica tries for a joke, not managing when her voice weavers.

Derek cuts in before Stiles can answer, eyes wide in alarm when he says, "You smell like smoke. Why do you smell like smoke?"

"I'm okay," Stiles says, voice low and calm. "Nothing happened to me. We just had to bring Jackson in for some smoke inhalation, but everyone's okay."

"Jackson's here?" Erica asks, eyes bright as she focuses on Stiles.

Stiles nods, "I promise to take you to him as soon as they're done sewing you back together."

The sick look on Erica's face at that makes Stiles wince in sympathy, hissing through his teeth when Derek steps on his foot and glares at him.

"Are you okay, though?" Stiles asks her. "You know, except for-"

Stiles makes a vague gesture at Erica's hand, smiling a little when that makes her roll her eyes at him.

"I'm alright," she shrugs one shoulder. "I just won't be able to work until the stitches come out. Or wash my hair. Or write things. Or mastur-"

"We get your point," Derek says loudly, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Erica smirks.

The doctor patching Erica up chokes on a laugh.

Stiles presses his lips together and scrubs a hand over his face, wondering if this is what his friends feel like whenever he's the one who says something inappropriate.

He takes Erica to Jackson as promised once she's free to go, pulling up two chairs for him and Derek to sit on besides Danny as he fills Erica in on what happened because Jackson's voice is still too fucked up for him to speak for long.

They're still there when Boyd arrives about five minutes later, pulling Erica up in a hug as soon as he sees her.

And when the rest of the company bustles in, lead by Scott, all of them wanting to make sure Jackson is going to be okay.

And when Allison stops by, looking ready to rip off Jackson's balls for putting Scott in danger before she takes one look at him and promptly bursts into tears.

And when Lydia stops by and threatens Jackson's life in about ten different ways before pulling his oxygen mask off, bending down, and sealing her mouth over his.

Stiles fake gags.

Danny kicks him in the shin.

Erica glares at him.

And Derek just looks at him with such disapproval Stiles slumps back on his chair, eyes lowered.

Neither of them leaves until Mrs. McCall stops by and practically kicks them out, saying Jackson needs his rest and that he should be good to go home tomorrow. One by one, and much to Jackson's discomfort, they all hug him goodbye, Danny promising to be there when he's released.

Erica kisses Stiles and Derek on the cheek and leaves with Boyd, Scott giving them both a hug and telling them he'll wait for Allison to finish her shift before going home, Danny waving at them before driving the ambulance back to the firehouse.

Stiles lets Derek walk him to his car, letting Derek pull him against him as Derek leans against the driver's door, his hands around Stiles' waist.

"I knew something bad was going to happen," Stiles sighs as he drops his forehead on Derek's shoulder, breathing him in, trying to shake off the bad feeling settling on the pit of his stomach. "I just didn't think it was this. And it's barely past the middle of January."

"At least everyone's okay," Derek says, one hand rubbing circles as the small of Stiles' back as he nuzzles against Stiles' temple. "And that means things should be all good now, right?"

Stiles swallows, suddenly feeling like that's more to his bad feeling than what happened today.

He still tries to make himself believe as he says, "Right," back at Derek, hugging Derek tighter to him.

He doesn't really succeed.

---

To: Derek

can you stop by the grocery store and pick up milk on your way over?

From: Derek

Anything else, dear?

To: Derek

no baby but thanks for asking xoxo

---

"You said something."

Stiles blinks, "I said lots of somethings."

"Almost two weeks ago," Derek explains, shifting on the bed so that he's on his side and able to stare at Stiles. "About wanting to try something new."

Stiles' mouth dries, eyes widening a little as he remembers that night.

And how they didn't get to do what Stiles wanted to try because of the direction things took.

And leave it to Derek to bring this kind if thing up when they're already in bed after an exhausting day, with Jackson being more of a dick than usual at the station due to Finstock calling him out on being an idiot and Derek having to work double to cover Erica's clients because of her hand.

And also with Lydia trying to rope him into helping with the preparations for the baby shower, nevermind that she wants to do it only a few months from now and still has plenty of time to get things in order.

"I did, yes," Stiles licks his lips. "Would you- Do you-"

"Yeah," Derek nods, resting a hand in Stiles' hips and squeezing. "Do you want to?"

Stiles exhales slowly, giving Derek his answer by closing the distance between them and kissing him slowly, pulling back before Derek can deepen the kiss.

"I want to," Stiles says out loud anyway, resting a hand in the middle of Derek's chest, feeling the rapid beat of Derek's heart under his palm. "And you're gonna stop me if I do anything you don't want to."

"I know," Derek says, because that's pretty much what Stiles tells him every time they do something.

Not that Derek has ever said anything, aside from telling him he's not ready to full-on dick-up-his-ass sex.

Stiles still likes to remind him.

And in light of that, he doesn't hesitate to explain to Derek a little what he wants to do.

"I'm gonna want you on all fours, naked," Stiles says, voice getting low and a little rough as he takes Derek's sharp intake of breath at his words. "That position might make you a little nervous, but I want you to know I'm not gonna do anything we've discussed you're not ready for yet, okay?"

Derek nods, hand tightening on Stiles' hip, nails biting at the skin, lips pulled up at the corners when he asks, "Thighs closed together?"

The smile that breaks across Stiles' face is nothing but wicked, "I told you it wasn't something new, just something we hadn't tried yet."

Derek makes a little sound at the back of his throat, pushing against Stiles' hand on his chest so he can rub their noses together, "I'm good with trying that."

"Then start getting naked," Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at him, laughing when the turned on look on Derek's face turns into one that's part fondness and part exasperation.

"Is it weird that you doing that doesn't make me want you any less?" Derek asks, more to himself than to Stiles.

"Nope," Stiles shakes his head, grabbing Derek's face between his hands and smooshing his cheeks together. "It's love."

The pained look Derek gives him at that - as if regretting everything he did that led him to this - only makes Stiles lean in and place kisses all over his face, giving a startled yelp that soon turns into laughter when Derek's hand slides up from his hip and his fingers start digging into his ribs.

"No tickling! No tick-" Stiles yells between laughs as he lets go of Derek and starts squirming, trying to get away. "Ow, fucker. Man down! Man down!"

Derek effectively shuts him up when he brings their mouths together, hands stilling at Stiles' sides, tongue lightly tracing the seam of Stiles' lips until Stiles opens up for him.

It's a sloppy kiss at best, with Stiles still trying to catch his breath and Derek awkwardly propped half on top of him and half on the mattress, the blankets tangled between their legs.

Not that Stiles cares, because Derek's kisses are always the best in his opinion.

Especially those kisses that lead to Derek helping them undress, lead to them pressing their lips to any and all bare patch of skin they can find, lead to them getting hard as they grind their hips leisurely against each other.

"You're lucky I didn't pull something earlier," Stiles murmurs against Derek's neck, the rasp of stubble under his lips, one of his hands cupping Derek's ass. "Otherwise we'd be doing something a lot different than this."

He feels the vibration when Derek laughs, his muscles moving as he hooks one leg over Stiles' hip and tries to get closer, "I'll make sure to only tickle you when we're not planning on having sex."

Stiles snorts, nails biting at Derek's cheek at the same time he rocks forward and says, "I'm always planning on having sex with you."

The little choked-up whimper Derek lets out goes straight to Stiles' dick, and that's all it takes to spring him into action.

Or, well, that's all it takes for him to lift his head from its place against Derek's neck and press their lips together, his hand lifting from Derek's ass so that it can press against the small of his back.

Derek gets on all fours on top of the bed without being asked, looking over his shoulder and licking his lips as Stiles grabs the lube from the nightstand before making himself comfortable behind Derek.

"I thought you said you needed lotion," Derek raises an eyebrow, lips pulled up in a faint smile.

Stiles tuts, shaking his head, "I changed my mind. You deserve only the best, lube included."

Derek snorts, rolling his eyes, but the added flush to his cheeks tells Stiles he's pleased to hear that.

And Stiles can't resist but drape himself over Derek's back at that, his dick nestle between Derek's cheeks, his teeth coming down to bite lightly against the tendon on Derek's neck.

The way Derek tips his head to the side at the same time as he hisses through his teeth makes Stiles' entire body shudder, and he doesn't resist when Derek turns back to him and kisses him, sloppy and a little uncoordinated and in a way that still makes Stiles' toes curl.

Stiles doesn't look at Derek when he pulls back to slick himself with lube, knowing that if he glances at the way Derek's face is flushed, his lips red and swollen, his back arched and his ass right there, things will be over a lot sooner than he wants them to be.

Not that they last very long when Stiles puts his cock between Derek's thighs and starts moving, his hand still covered in lube now wrapped around Derek's dick, his tongue tracing the tattoo on Derek's back and tasting the salty tang of his skin.

The strangled moans and gasped pleas and Stiles' name groaned between a thrust and the next also don't help, every sound only serving to make Stiles rock his hips harder, move his hand faster, nip his way up Derek's back to his shoulder and neck until he can get to Derek's mouth, tongue licking past the seam of his lips, tangling with Derek's own.

Derek bites down on Stiles' bottom lip when he comes, muscles tensing, eyes closed as he makes a mess of Stiles' hand and the navy sheets under them. But it's the way Derek presses his ass back into Stiles and how Stiles can feel Derek's thighs shaking around him that does it for him, coating Derek's thighs and balls with his come as gasps Derek's name, face buried in the back of his neck.

They both collapse in a tangle of limbs on the bed when Derek's arms can't hold him up anymore, Stiles covering Derek's body with his own, sweat and come cooling between them as they catch their breaths.

If doing this with Derek is this fucking good, Stiles doesn't even want to know what fucking him will feel like.

Mind blowing.

Earth shattering.

The best fucking thing ever.

He doesn't start moving until Derek starts squirming under him, lifting his head to look down at him only to see Derek with his brows furrowed, his lips turned down.

And that's-

That's not the face Derek's supposed to be doing right after they have sex.

Derek's supposed to looked flushed and fucked stupid and with his hair sticking in every direction.

But not-

He's not supposed to look bothered.

Hot and bothered, yes.

But irritated, no.

"Derek, what-"

Derek grimaces.

Stiles cuts off and slides off of him, jaw clenched tight and stomach churning as he waits for Derek to say something.

Only to almost choke in relief when Derek rolls closer to him and the only thing out of his mouth is, "Sorry. I was lying on the wet spot."

Stiles lets out a strangled laugh, stopping short of cupping Derek's cheek when he sees the come staining his fingers, Derek twisting his head to the side to see what made Stiles stop and wrinkling his nose.

"Shower?" Stiles suggests. "And changing the sheets into clean ones?"

Derek nods, helping Stiles get up.

And then promptly wrapping his arms around Stiles' waist, leaning in close, breath ghosting over Stiles' now parted lips as he says, "Do you know what else we haven't tried yet?"

Stiles blinks, swallowing hard, "A lot of things?"

The smirk Derek gives him is teasing, his bottom lip touching Stiles' when he says, "Shower sex."

---

If there's one thing about himself that Stiles hates more than anything else is the way that whenever he gets a bad feeling about something or someone he always turns out to be right.

He'd like to blame his dad for that, for whatever it is that gets the back if his neck prickling whenever something is about to go wrong. Like being aware of danger or troubled times is in his blood, passed down from father to son.

Always trust your gut, Stiles.

Well, Stiles' gut told him there was something evil about his classmate, Matt.

(He got arrested after trying to run the high school's old swimming coach over with his car.)

It told him not to sneak out into the old mall ruins at the edge of town when he was seventeen.

(The roof caved in.)

And it told him that there was something about Peter Hale he should always be wary of.

He just didn't know what that was.

Not until now.

You know, when he answers his phone to Scott's frantic voice telling him to, "Turn on the TV right now. News channel. I'm serious, Stiles."

"What's going on?" Stiles asks, already halfway to the living room.

He knows that whatever it is that has Scott telling him to watch the news must be bad, so he doesn't waste any time trying to find his remote and doing exactly as Scott is telling him to do.

"Holy shit," Stiles says as he flops down on the couch, legs not holding him up anymore, eyes glued to the TV.

Because right there, plastered on the news, is Kate Argent being arrested.

Allison showed him an old picture of her a few days after he found out who Kate was to Allison, and although she looks older, the woman on TV with her hands cuffed behind her back and in what looks to be a very expensive set of clothes is in no doubt her aunt.

Derek's ex-girlfriend.

The woman who hurt him and who Stiles wishes he could hurt in return.

Not that he thinks he needs to know, as he watches a police officer escort her to a cruise.

Because she's being arrested.

For, apparently, being caught stealing from the company she worked at.

You know, the one where she used her connections to Derek and Mrs. Hale just so she could get a job offer at.

"Holy shit," Stiles says again, mouth opening and closing as he tries to process what he's seeing. Only to go completely still as it sinks in. "Oh my god, Derek."

Derek.

Derek.

Stiles can't even comprehend what Derek must be feeling right now if he's seeing this - or if he already saw this, since it looks like Kate's arrest has been making the news forms few hours now -, and he's already walking back to his room trying to find a clean pair of pants when he hears Scott calling his name.

"Goddammit, Stiles! Answer me."

"I'm here," Stiles says, voice shaky, phone propped between his cheek and shoulder so he can zip up his pants.

And of course seeing Kate getting arrested on national TV after everything she did to two of the people Stiles loves most and Derek possibly watching everything while sitting in his apartment alone is not enough, because the next words out of Scott's mouth are, "That's why I called you. I can't find Allison."

Stiles freezes again.

Because this isn't good.

"What do you mean you can't find Allison?"

"She's not answering her phone," Scott says, close to panicking. "I got home from work and she wasn't here. At first I thought she was out somewhere but she always answers when I call. I've been trying for half an hour. I've been at home for almost one. It's her day off and she's not here and the TV was on and she's not answering her phone and I can't find her."

"Did you call Lydia?" Stiles asks, grabbing the first jacket he sees and running out of his room in search for his keys and wallet. "Or Allison's dad? Or your mom? Or Derek?"

"They don't know where she is!" Scott tells him, and then adds, "And I've been trying to call him for just as long and Derek's not answering either."

"Fuck," Stiles says, hands starting to shake. "Fuck."

Because Derek is not answering.

Derek.

Not answering.

The person who answers every text message he gets and who always calls back after a missed call.

That Derek.

And of course he isn't answering, because he must have seen the news already.

An hour ago.

Maybe more.

"We have to find them, Stiles," Scott says, and Stiles can practically see the pain and concern on his face.

But what he says strikes a chord.

They have to find them.

Both Derek and Allison.

And the thought that the two of them might have disappeared together gives Stiles some resemblance of control again, making him able to calm himself down long enough so he can figure out what to do.

"Okay, okay," Stiles says, taking a deep breath. "You're going to drive by the coffee shop Allison and Derek like to hang out at, the shooting range, and any other place you think they might have gone to. Keep trying to call her, and I'll call everyone else to let them know what's happening and to see if they have any ideas where they might be. I'll also talk to my dad and see if there's anything he can do to help us."

Not that Stiles thinks there is, considering they've been missing for over an hour and not an entire day.

But still.

It's worth a try.

"You think they're together?" Scott asks him, also sounding a little less panicked at the idea they might not be alone.

"I think they're the only ones who know what the other is feeling right now," Stiles admits, voice soft.

There's a few seconds of silence from Scott's end before Stiles can hear him cursing under his breath.

Stiles is right there with him.

"I'll call Isaac and let him know what's happening," Scott tells him. "He'll want to help. And that way you don't have to worry about calling everyone by yourself."

"Thanks, buddy," Stiles says, leaving his apartment. "Keep your phone on you."

"Will do," Scott says, and after a few seconds he asks, "Do you think they're okay?"

Stiles gulps, stomach churning, because no, he doesn't think they're okay.

"I think they're gonna need some time until they feel like that again."

"I'll check the places Allison likes to go to when she wants to be alone," Scott says after a few beats. "I'll call you if I find them."

They say their goodbyes, Stiles immediately dialing Derek's number after Scott hangs up. He's not surprised when it goes straight to voicemail, not bothering to leave a message before he ends the call and starts contacting everyone else.

Laura's reaction to the news is similar to Stiles', only with a little more glee at Kate being arrested for embezzling and a lot more swearing when Stiles tells her he has no idea where Derek is and how he's not answering his phone.

"I'll talk to mom and see if she knows anything," Laura tells him.

"Thanks, Laura."

"Just find him, Stiles," she whispers before hanging up.

He tries Derek's cell again before hitting up Boyd, getting no answer.

Not that he was expecting one, anyway, but still.

He knows he'll keep trying, until either Derek answers or someone finds him and Allison.

Boyd just listens to him in silence before clipping a, "I'm on it," telling him not to bother with calling Erica because she's already on the phone with Isaac.

It's when he calls his dad that he feels himself get a real handle on things, the Sheriff's controlled voice when he says he'll tell his deputies to keep an eye out for them making Stiles feel like everything's going to be okay.

He gets messages from Danny, Jackson, and Ethan, the three of them telling him Lydia filled them in on everything and that they're meeting with Scott to help.

It's only then that he gets into his Jeep and starts driving, heart on his throat, sick to his stomach, wondering and worrying about how Derek and Allison must be feeling about all of this.

He knows it must not be easy, seeing Kate being punished for something she did after how she wasn't punished for what she did to them, but he still wished they'd at least let them know about where they were going.

And sure, he also understands that they need some time to figure things out in their heads, to come to terms with what they saw, but that doesn't mean running away and not answering their phones is the right way to do it.

Especially with Allison being five months pregnant.

So he starts getting a little pissed off as he drives around, lips thin and hands clenching tight around the steering wheel, because Derek and Allison could have at least talked to them before taking off.

Derek should know by now Stiles will never push him to talk about things he doesn't want to talk about, and Allison's been with Scott long enough to know that if she asks him to back off, he will.

So yeah, he gets them needing some time, but he doesn't get them shutting them out to do it.

Stiles drives past every single place he can think Derek might have gone to, from the park to the little bookstore he likes to go to sometimes to the garage to see if he's back. He keeps trying Derek's phone at every stoplight he hits, answering everyone's calls along the way only to find out they still haven't seen them around.

It's when he hits the two hour mark, Derek and Allison missing for about three, that he gets a call that almost makes drive off the road and straight into a tree.

"Where are you? Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Did you call Scott? Did you call your dad? Is Derek with you? Where are you?"

"I called Scott," Allison sniffs, voice small and shaky, like she's been crying. "He's coming to pick me up. Dad's coming with. And the baby is fine. She keeps kicking me."

Stiles' relief at knowing Allison soon will be at home safe with Scott is overshadowed by panic at noticing she didn't answer his question about Derek, his entire body going cold.

He must say something about him to her, because Allison's next words both make him feel a little better and about ten times more worried.

"That's why I called you before Scott got here," Allison says. "Derek was with me when we- When we saw- But he left after he knew Scott was coming. I don't- He said he was going back home. So I thought I should call you. He- This is not- This is messed up Stiles. With everything Kate did, and how Derek's uncle- He's going to need you, Stiles."

"Derek's uncle?" Stiles blinks, sounding very far away. "What does this have to do with him?"

"I think you should wait for him to tell you," Allison says after a few seconds. "I'm sorry we worried you. It's just- This is not- I'm sorry."

Stiles swallows, pressing his lips together, because as much as he wants to it's not his place to tell what what a stupid thing it was for her to disappear today, "Just don't do that again, Ally. Ever."

"I won't," Allison sniffs again. "I should probably go. Scott's gonna be here at any minute, and you need to go home and talk to Derek."

"Yeah," Stiles says, throat clicking. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I know Derek is, too."

Stiles shakes his head, because that doesn't really make him feel any better.

"You should apologize to Scott, not me," Stiles says, harsher than he meant to.

"I will," Allison promises, sounding guilty.

She should be.

"I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Allison says, and adds just before she hangs up. "I'm sorry."

Stiles stares at his phone for about ten full seconds before starting the car again, sending everyone a mass text letting them know Scott has Allison and he will get to Derek in a few minutes. He also asks them to hold up on the relieved calls and angry lectures, telling them he'll make sure Derek calls everyone after they talk.

And after he finds out what the fuck did Peter have to do with any of this.

The problem is that when he gets to Derek's apartment is to find it empty and dark, with no signs of Derek being there, despite Allison telling him Derek went-

Oh.

Oh.

Stiles is feeling a little out of his depth as he drives to his place, and he has to stop by his door and take a deep breath before he turns the key into the lock and steps inside.

His heart flips and his shoulders slump when he sees Derek curled up at one end of his couch, his elbows on his knees, his hair standing up like he was just running his fingers through it.

Stiles doesn't say anything as he closes the door behind him and walks into the living room, eyes never leaving Derek's, lips thinning as he takes in how pale and hurt Derek looks.

As angry as he is, Stiles still doesn't hesitate to get his hands on Derek's shoulders and push him to the side, slipping in the space between the arm of the couch and Derek's back. He lets Derek lean back against his chest, Derek's head resting on his shoulder, Stiles arms going around Derek's waist, one if his hands splayed over Derek's stomach and the other one over his heart.

Stiles knows Derek is someone who needs comfort when he's hurting, and having Derek in his arms also calms him down considerably.

Like if he has his arms wrapped around him, Derek won't be able to take off again.

"Allison is already with Scott," Stiles says quietly, breath ghosting over the shell of Derek's ear.

Derek nods and brings up a hand to trace Stiles' knuckles, the veins on the back of his hand, the bones of his wrist.

"Do you want me to tell you exactly how angry I am at you right now or after you tell me what happened?" Stiles asks, tightening his arms around Derek.

He hears more than sees Derek gulp, his fingers wrapping around Stiles' wrist, his voice just as low as Stiles' when he says, "Right now."

Stiles squeezes him again.

"I think you can imagine how close to panic Scott was when he called me saying couldn't get a hold of Allison," Stiles starts. "And how scared I was when he told me you weren't answering your phone either and when every single person I called had absolutely no idea where you two were."

"I'm sorry I scared you," Derek says, pressing back against Stiles as if he's afraid Stiles will get up and leave.

"You should be," Stiles says honestly, running the hand over Derek's heart up and down Derek's chest. "And it wasn't just me and Scott. It was all of us. Our friends and family. I understand that you two needed some time to come to terms with everything, but you could have let us know where you were. A call, a text, whatever. You didn't even need to leave your phones on after that, as long as we knew where you were and that you were safe. There's no excuse for not doing that, Derek. None."

Derek, for his turn, doesn't try to apologize, just listens and nods and keeps hold of Stiles' wrist. If it wasn't for the way Stiles can feel his heart beating fast under his palm, he'd think Derek's not really affected by what Stiles is saying.

"I was scared for you, and I'm worried for you, and I'm angry you would think you couldn't come talk to me and ask me to give you some time," Stiles continues. "There are only so many times I can have the same conversation with you and be an understanding person. The only reason I can think of that you didn't text me or something was because you weren't thinking straight after seeing- After seeing the news. But this is the last time I can do this with you without doing some kind of damage, because every time you run off without a warning instead of talking to me and telling me what you need, it hurts me. It makes me feel like you don't trust me, and like every word I say to go goes through one ear and out of the other. And that's not okay, Derek. That's not fair to me."

Derek shifts so that he's on his side on the couch and so he is able to lift his head up to look at Stiles, the acknowledgement that he knows he screwed up evident on his face.

"I really wasn't thinking," Derek tells him, lips turned down. "Allison wasn't either. I stopped by their house to help her move some things from the attic because Scott was working, and when I got there she was- She was crying. And when I asked her what was wrong she just- I saw the TV. I saw Kate. We just- We had to get out. We didn't think about anything else."

Stiles sighs, tangling his fingers through Derek's hair and tugging a little.

"I get it," he says. "But it's still not okay. You two should have called us as soon as you realized you were gonna take your time coming back home."

Stiles almost chokes on that word.

Home.

Because when Allison told him Derek was going back home, he thought she, and Derek, meant Derek's apartment, not here.

Stiles' place.

"I know," Derek says, lowering his gaze. "I'm sorry. And I'll call Scott later to apologize."

Stiles smiles a little at that, "Saying you're sorry is not going to cut it this time, not for Scott."

Derek purses his lips, "I'll also ask Boyd to help me bake him something."

"Scott's also not the only one you'll have to call," Stiles points out.

And absolutely doesn't feel sorry for Derek at the horrified look on his face as he realizes he'll not only have to call Laura and Cora, but also his mom.

"Yeah," Derek breathes out. "I know. I also- I think I'll call to schedule another therapy session. You know, after- After what happened today. I don't think- I think it's best if I don't wait until Monday to see my doctor."

Stiles blinks, a little surprised and a lot pleased about hearing this come from Derek.

"I think that's a good idea," Stiles tells him, nails scratching at Derek's scalp. "If you think it'll help."

"I think it will."

"Now," Stiles says, licking his lips. "Do you want to tell me how you're doing with all of this? Or do you only want to talk to your therapist about it?"

Derek doesn't take as long as Stiles thought he would before answering, "I want to talk to you about it. Explain."

Stiles nods, and then asks the question that's been bothering him since he got off the phone with Allison.

"Explain what happened and what Peter has to do with it?"

Derek freezes, eyes going a little wide in surprise before understanding dawns and he asks, "Allison?"

"She only mentioned his name," Stiles says. "And she said I should talk to you about it."

It's Derek turns to sigh, burrowing closer to Stiles' chest before he starts talking.

"Peter had a friend investigate Kate after I found out you were friends with Allison. At that dinner at Danny's."

Stiles-

Well, Stiles doesn't know what he was expecting.

All he knows was that it was not this.

"What?"

"I didn't ask him to," Derek adds quickly. "But when he heard about you being friends with Allison and that her last name was Argent he wanted to know if they were related. And if they were, if there was any chance of Kate popping up to visit."

"So you already knew who Allison was and how she didn't have any contact with Kate when I stopped by to explain everything to you," Stiles says, not really knowing what to do with any of this.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Derek mumbles. "I just- I was more worried about us. Or if there was still going to be an us, after the way I reacted."

Stiles blinks, still not really knowing what to do with this information.

But he figures this particular information doesn't matter to them anymore, water under the bridge, considering Stiles was also worried about him and Derek still being together after what happened.

"It's okay," Stiles says, shaking his head. "That doesn't matter. And I'm not angry at you for that. But I'd appreciate if you told Peter not to do anything like that anymore."

"I will," Derek says, relaxing a little. "But I don't know if he'll listen."

Great.

"So I'm assuming that is one if the reasons why Peter wanted to go back to New York?" Stiles moves along, the pieces falling into place in his head. "Because of what his friend found out?"

"Deucalion," Derek says. "That's his name. He runs a PI Agency. They met at the hospital in New York, after Peter woke up from the coma and when Deucalion was there because of a hunting accident. He was blind, Peter was scarred, they bonded."

Stiles frowns at that.

"I don't remember seeing any scars on Peter."

"They're mostly on his back and legs," Derek says sadly. "His side, part of his stomach. He keeps them covered."

"I'm sorry," Stiles says, because he doesn't know what else is there.

Derek just keeps going.

"Part of what this guy found out about Kate was that there was a discrepancy between the way she lived and the money she made," Derek shakes his head, eyes sad. "At first I think he thought she might have been relying on family money to buy the expensive clothes, pay for her condo, maintain her car, but after digging a little deeper he knew that was not what was happening."

"She was stealing from the company, the people she worked for."

Derek nods, "Deucalion put someone on her to figure out how she was doing it. This Aiden guy found out she was sleeping with one of the senior partners, blackmailing him. He was married. He helped her cover her tracks and in turn she didn't tell his wife they were fucking."

Stiles hugs Derek tighter to him at hearing the bitterness in his voice as he says that, knowing he's feeling this deep because of the way Kate used him to get to his mother, to get to her connections.

"He didn't do a very good job, though, did he?" Stiles says without humor, swallowing hard when Derek agrees.

"Deucalion turned all the information he had on what they were doing to the other partners," Derek tells him. "I think that's why her arrest was made public. Lawyers don't like being made fools of, and publicly ruining her image, something she worked so hard for, was their way to show her she fucked over the wrong people."

"What about the guy that helped her?"

Derek's lips thin, expression hard as he says, "Peter said he made a deal. He'd give them his full cooperation and resign from his position as long as they kept quiet about his involvement. It was agreed it'd be in the company's best interests to do exactly that, and it took them a few weeks after that for Kate to be officially accused."

Stiles shakes his head, dumbfounded.

People suck.

"How does Peter know all this?"

"Deucalion is the best at what he does," Derek explains. "Which means the people who work for him are also really good at their jobs. I think Peter said the guy put on Kate's tail was really good at not being seen, at hiding in plain sight, which was what was needed, I guess. There's also Ennis, who's more of an intimidation kind of guy. And Kali and Julia. They're a couple. Peter says Kali knows about fifty different ways to put someone down, and Julia can con anyone into trusting her and letting their guard down so she can get what she wants."

"That sounds...," Stiles trails off, looking for the right word.

"Vaguely terrifying?" Derek offers.

"Kind of, yeah," Stiles nods, and then frowns. "Wait, what was his name again? The guy on Kate?"

"Aiden," Derek says, and then lifts his head up when Stiles tenses under him.

"Aiden," Stiles repeats. "Are you sure?"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Did Peter ever mention Aiden having a brother?"

Derek frowns, "I don't think so, why?"

"Well," Stiles says slowly, blinking. "Ethan has a twin brother. A twin brother who Danny says is pretty mysterious. And who has to bail on family gatherings a lot because of work. A work he doesn't offer much information about, hence the whole being mysterious thing. And his name is-"

"Aiden," Derek finishes for him.

"Yep," Stiles nods. "Do you think Peter would keep this information to himself if Deucalion's Aiden was Ethan's Aiden?"

Derek just looks as him.

Because yes, that sounds exactly like something Peter would do.

"I'll talk to Ethan," Derek says, bottom lip jutting forward in something Stiles is pretty sure is a pout. "After we finish this conversation. And after my mom and Laura and Cora and everyone yells at me."

Stiles pats him on the head.

And doesn't feel sorry for Derek, because he deserves to be yelled at.

"You still didn't tell me how you're doing with all of this," Stiles comments, eyes searching Derek's face.

Derek takes his time to answer, settling back against Stiles's chest, one of his hands curling against the curve if Stiles' hip.

"I don't- I don't know," Derek admits. "I think- I don't- I'm not surprised she did something like this. Because that was the life she always wanted. The money, the statuses it brought her, everything. I'm angry she hurt other people to get it, but I'm not surprised. It's what she did to me and my mom, so it's no wonder she also did it to someone else. And that's sad. That makes me sad. That she'd think the only way she can get what she wants is by fucking everyone over. It's like she thinks- It's like she thinks she's not- That she doesn't deserve-"

"It's like she thinks she's not smart enough to do it any other way," Stiles fills in.

"And that she doesn't deserve good things even if she did work hard, because she's not worth it," Derek nods, and Stiles can practically feel his sadness like a physical thing, the understanding, because that's what Derek thought of and sometimes still thinks of himself. "And that's what her obsessions with money and success is all about, I think. If she gets enough recognition or makes enough money or has the most influential friends, she's gonna be proving to the world that she made it. That she is good enough, after all."

"You feel sorry for her," Stiles realizes, looking down at Derek.

"Allison told me a little bit about what she knows of her grandfather," Derek says. "And that the most likely reason Kate is the way she is is because of how he raised her. So yeah, I feel sorry for her. I'm sorry she had to grow up that way, with someone that made her feel like she was never good enough, no matter how hard she tried to prove him wrong. No one deserves that. But I think I'm more sorry she didn't get help. That she didn't have anyone around her who protected her from him or who made her realize what he was doing was wrong."

Stiles' stomach flips at that, making him crush Derek tighter against him and place a kiss to the top of his head.

Because Derek had that.

He had people at his back who love him and who took it upon themselves to show him just how wonderful of a person he is.

Stiles included.

And at that moment he can't help but feel sorry for Kate, too.

A part of him also feels sorry for Allison's dad, Mr. Argent, for not being able to do as much as he wished he could for his little sister, from not being able to take her away from their father and hopefully give her a better life.

"This sucks," Stiles says, because that's the only thing he thinks will encompass exactly how awful this entire situation is.

"I know," Derek sighs, pressing his nose against Stiles' sternum. "But it also- I think- Seeing her being carted off was a shock. And then having Peter call and explain everything to me and Allison was even worse. But now that I had some time to think about it, it kind of feels like closure. Like she finally- It makes me feel bad saying this, but it's like she got what was coming for her. But at the same time I can't help but think that if she was raised different, she wouldn't have done what she did."

Stiles almost flies off the couch at hearing the words it kind of feels like closure coming from Derek, stopping himself at the last second only so he can address the next part of what Derek said.

"I told you once that having shitty things happen to you doesn't give you an excuse to be a shitty person," Stiles reminds him. "Scott was raised with an abusive father, but he didn't grow up to be an abusive asshole. Allison had Kate screwing with her head for years, but she turned out to be one of the kindest people I know. You said Isaac also grew up with a poor excuse of a human being for a father, but he's a good guy. And then there's you. You had more bad things happen to you than the average person, and I think you're pretty amazing. So having Kate grow up the way she did doesn't give her an excuse to do what she did. A reason, yes. But not an excuse."

Derek rubs his nose against Stiles' shirt but doesn't say anything, as if silently conceding that Stiles has a point.

"It'll take me a while," Derek says after a few seconds, his voice muffled. "To come to terms with all of this. How it affects me and how I feel about knowing what happened and what Peter did. Right now I'm- I'm not okay, but I'm not doing bad, either. But I don't know if that'll change once the shock wears off."

"As long as you don't run off again, we'll get through it," Stiles says, shaking him lightly.

"I think I might have to schedule more than one emergency therapy session," Derek comments, not sounding too happy about that after the progress he made.

"And I think that's a pretty good indicator to how well you're doing," Stiles says, lips curling up in a faint smile. "That you're willing to get help by yourself, and that you recognize that this is something you might not be able to handle alone. You're reaching out to people instead of shutting them out, and that's always a good thing. You know, this afternoon aside."

"I'll ignore the dig at the end and focus on how you sound like you're proud of me," Derek grumbles, lifting his head a little only so he can hide his face against Stiles' neck.

"If I sound like I'm proud of you then that's because I am," Stiles tugs at Derek's hair. "And that dig is there because I'm still mad at you for disappearing with a pregnant woman, not answering your phone, and worrying me and everyone we know."

"I'm sorry," Derek mumbles. "I'll make amends."

"You bet you will," Stiles says firmly. "But only after you kiss me. Because I've been out of my mind with worry since Scott called me, and as much as I like having you use me like your own personal teddy bear, I like your kisses better."

Stiles feels the press of Derek's small smile against his skin before Derek is hovering over him and they're kissing, slow and deep and exactly like what they both needed after the day they had.

And it's obvious they're both more relaxed after they break apart, like having this form of contact settled something between them that talking and cuddling couldn't.

"Do you think you'll be okay?" Stiles asks him softly, sliding his hands under Derek's shirt so he can rest them on the small of his back, skin against skin.

Derek doesn't answer right away.

He just stares down at Stiles, eyes turning liquid as he takes the man under him.

Stiles tries not to squirm.

He doesn't think he succeeds.

Especially when Derek's lips twitch up, his expression softening, his tone heavy with meaning when he says, "Yeah, I think I will."

Stiles lets out a slow breath, fingers digging into Derek's back.

"Good," Stiles breathes out, only to grin when Derek rubs their noses together. "I guess you can start calling people, then. Starting with your mom."

Derek freezes.

And then he drops his forehead against Stiles', lips turned down, every line in his body screaming how much he does not want to do that.

Stiles keeps grinning.

Even when Derek tries to kiss the smile right off his face.

And yeah.

He also thinks Derek will be okay.

---

a/n: so the reason i'm warning you guys is because derek is triggered by something he and stiles try in bed, right in the beginning of the chapter. we could say derek relapses back to thinking that because he's not on board with what's happening and because of the way he reacts to it, he's fucking things up between them. stiles stops everything as soon as he notices derek's not okay with it and they sit down and talk about it. hence the kink negotiation. i just thought i should let you guys know ~