A/N

Characters: Derek/Stiles (Slash!)

Length: Kinda long. Part two of three, for the Lydia prompt.

Prompt: Lydia

Takes place: Two weeks after Lydia 1. The timeline is getting strange when I get specific so know that the order timewise would be, Lydia 1, Lydia 2, then Spoon and then Lydia 3 (when it comes out.)

Warnings: Slash. Unbetaed/unedited. Long. Rambly. Cliffhanger (that is probably never going to be fully continued! Use your imagination, because bare in mind that Lydia 3 is waaay after this)

Disclaimer: Teen wolf isn't mine. Also, the letter that Derek writes is a silly facebook like that I only 'liked' because it SCREAMED DerekxStiles to me (tell me if you agree!) So it isn't mine either.

Alright, this is my longest chapter, and I can't fully believe it's for my one-shot story. Haha, I've got serious blockage for my multi-chapter fics, but I HAD to do Lydia because everyone keeps asking and I felt bad. Enjoy Lydia, Lydia. Only one more to go.

Two weeks. 14 days. 336 hours. 20106 minutes. 1209600 seconds.

That's how long it had been, two entire weeks, since he had spoken to Derek. Stiles lay on his bed casually throwing a ball up at his roof and catching it as it fell back down. He had been thumping it at a wall earlier but his dad had finally shouted at him and so he'd stopped, he hadn't wanted to stop, but he'd stopped all the same. He was still his father after all.

"I love you." He tested the words out in the air for probably the 1209601 time since the incident two weeks ago. It still sounded false to his airs. They were still pained and choked and he still wanted to scream at Derek because of them. He shouldn't feel like saying them was the only way to save his relationship, but he did. Not that Derek had explicitly told him that. Derek hadn't told him ANYTHING since their last fight. Not a word, they hadn't spoken in two weeks. Stiles had called, and texted and imed and basically done everything to get in contact with the man. He'd showed up at his house and even spent the night waiting for him. No Derek.

He knew Derek was avoiding him. He knew that Scott had seen him and trained with him, otherwise he would have asked Stiles' where his boyfriend was at. Things were too normal for Derek to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Stiles understood he had a need for space, really, he could get that. But his understanding hadn't stopped him from throwing his phone against a wall and destroying it in frustration. So in all honesty he wasn't sure if Derek had tried to contact him because his phone had been out of commission for a week now. Okay…a week and a half…he'd destroyed his phone rather quickly.

Stiles had not been to school this week. It was Wednesday now, and he knew he would eventually have to return…but…what was the point? He only survived the school day because of Scott and Derek. Scott was in that 'get Allison back' phase and Derek was…Derek was…

"GAH!" he said as he flung his hands up in frustration and the ball hit the roof and ricocheted around the room. This was ridiculous, he did not deserve this. He tried many times to apologize. If Derek wasn't going to accept his apologize then…then…?

He could feel the tears welling up but he ignored them and forced them back where they came from. He was better than this, he didn't need Derek. If the man wanted to break up with him and not even tell him well that was perfectly fine with him. Right? Except it wasn't. GAH!

His head was spinning now. More than anything he wanted to run to Derek and make him feel better. He knew that he himself had no right to feel bad because Derek was the one who had been hurt. He'd tried everything, but maybe desperate times called for desperate measures?

Rolling out of bed he pulled up the sleeve on his left hand and stared longing at the small fading lines present there. It had been so long since he'd felt the release of pain. He could feel the misery and pain that was shrouding his mind begin to clear up at the intoxicating thought. How would it feel? The cold pull of metal on skin, the exhilarating moment when he wondered if he'd finally cut too deep and this time he wouldn't be able to stop the blood.

He was practically salivating at the thought but abruptly he clasped his right hand over his left wrist, the jolt of motion and pain brought him out of the spell and he quickly tugged his sleeve down before he could be tempted again. He wouldn't do that, he wasn't that person anymore. He hadn't been that person for years. In fact the last time he'd cut himself had been…he stared longing at his wrist, as if he could will the memory back into existence.

Try as he might the only memory he could remember at the moment was the fact that he'd SWORN that he'd never cut himself again. Scott had found out first, after the first time. When his mother had died. He'd promised Scott he'd never cut himself again. He'd lied. His father had caught him next, in the shower passed out from pills and blood loss. After a terribly embarrassing hospital trip he'd promised his father AND Scott that he'd never do it again.

Months of therapy later and once he was free he was doing it again. Honestly speaking, he'd stopped the moment Derek walked into his life in the forest that day. Once Derek had discovered the cuts though he'd made Stiles SWEAR that he would never do it again. He couldn't disappoint Derek like that, not if he wanted him back. No, he wouldn't hurt the man anymore.

Grinding his teeth and rolling his neck to clear his mind he began to form a plan in his head. Desperate times may call for desperate measures but he had something else in mind entirely as to what exactly was the right desperate measure for this circumstance.

Derek Hale looked at the man like he had gone insane. Truth be told the man himself did look like he was insane. Who in their right mind would trek all the way out to the Hale house to deliver anything. Far less a dozen roses. Roses for Christ's sake. Derek ground his teeth and snarled shocked that the man had managed to hold his ground and his bowels for this long.

Sighing to himself he took pity on the man. Probably in his early twenties the dirty blonde had yet to grow out of his awkward teenage phase. He was all lanky limbs and shaggy hair, and a face that practically oozed oil. It was times like this that he was especially thankful that Stiles was well…Stiles.

His most redeemable feature, a pair of light blue eyes, were wide in fear and apprehension and that just made this even more annoying. Hurrying through the procedure Derek took the flowers in one hand and signed quickly, he didn't use his actual signature but whatever.

He slammed the door (as best as you could slam a partially remodelled door) and he walked back into his likewise partially remodelled home. Stiles had convinced him to redo this house into something close to what it was before. A tribute of sorts.

As he turned to enter the kitchen he began to question his sanity. He knew better than to be here in this place. He'd spent the first few nights after their fight hiding out in wolf form in the forest. Now, back in here he was plagued with memories. They'd decided that the smartest option was to work on the building themselves and looking around he could see areas of the house that was distinctly 'Stiles.'

The pair of nails facing up on a piece of board casually forgotten during one of their…er, breaks…The place where Stiles had dropped a hammer on Derek's foot. The tiles he'd helped Derek choose and put down in the kitchen. Damn it, with a frustrated sigh Derek dumped the flowers into the bin and pulled himself onto the searing position on the counter.

He didn't hate Stiles, really, he didn't. He loved the man more than anything else. But he couldn't be in an unrequited relationship. He was under no illusions though. He would return to Stiles eventually. If the boy would have him back he would go back to him without a second thought. He just needed…space.

Stiles had too much power over him, he sighed as this wasn't the first time he'd come to recognize this. Reaching over he picked one of the roses out of the trash along with the small card that had come with it…

The moment of truth, should he read it? He didn't want to see something that made him want to run back to the boy. He missed him so much already. If Stiles didn't want a relationship and had kept Derek around as a fuck-toy he would have still agreed to it…that was how bad it was. Derek craved Stiles like a drug. An addiction, he wanted; needed Stiles. Even now he wanted to tear out his skin because it wouldn't stop itching to be near his soulmate. Worse yet, he'd had to give up hiding out in his wolf form because his wolf wanted to be with Stiles more strongly than his human side did.

How had he lasted this long without him? He didn't know, with a small smile at the tiny, fragile flower he stroked it gently as he opened the note.

'I really hope this letter finds its way to you. I know that I hurt you, and I understand if you don't want to see me again but…I'm going to fight for you Derek. Until the day you call the cops on me (and I don't think Dad will arrest me) I'm going to try to make it up to you…

Brace yourself; I'm going to give you all the gifts you should have gotten…

(: - Sty.'

Derek could feel his heart melt as he read the words once, twice, three times. He ignored the fact that Stiles' handwriting SUCKED and instead focused on the gifts he should have gotten part. Did that mean the roses weren't the only gift? Stiles was attempting to woe him, or at least his forgiveness. That was amusing. In a pathetically adorable Stiles way. He would already forgive the boy, if he would ANSWER his phone. Sigh...He would visit Stiles in the morning. Derek had freaked out and Stiles had shown serious remorse and that was more than enough, right?

The first present arrived bright an early the next morning. Immediately upon awakening he knew that Stiles had been there. What was surprising was that his scent ended right at the door, he hadn't even attempted to enter the house. This shocked and saddened him but he looked curiously at the small box placed upon his step and he couldn't help himself. He'd never been given a present before. Not all wrapped and carefully chosen and position and…he most certainly DID NOT feel like a child. No way, but he was a little excited. He still had a single red rose in his room (and one in every other room but we won't tell Stiles that.)

Tearing open the wrapping paper carefully (wildly) he was surprised when out of the box fell another box. The box was actually a rectangular shaped board that appeared to be missing a piece. To his surprise, at the bottom of the box was tiny figures. Wooden, hand painted figures. To his surprise instead of knights and a king and queen. All the pieces resembled wolves. Omega pawns, wolves instead of horsemen, an alpha, a few betas, this was…amazing. Stiles had given him a werewolf chess set.

Gaping at the sheer amount of work that must have gone into it, it took him awhile to realize that he had only the black pieces and one side of the board. The betas held swords, and the Alpha was in a ferocious wolf form and my god was that…One particular beta had electric blue eyes and Derek wanted to cry.

At the bottom of his half of the chess set was another letter, which Derek tore open to ignore the feelings of sheer love and adoration welling up in his chest.

'Woo…Please, PLEASE! Don't require gifts more elaborate than this, this shit was HARD to make. I mean, not as hard as the white side, but the wolves were pretty hard too…'

So that explained it. If his side was just the black side of the chest set…where was?

'I have the other side, and as shameless as it is it's mine. We belong together, Derek. I was created for you and you for me…I will keep half and you can keep half but always know that together we can be whole…I really am sorry…

PS. Did you see the Derek wolf! Isn't it AWESOME. Sorry I couldn't make you the alpha but…eep, maybe I should have written that?

-Sty.'

Derek read the letter only once, only once was all he needed before his mind was fully made up. Lydia or no Lydia, love confession or not, he loved Stiles completely and utterly and he would take ANYTHING he could give him. The boy was everything he had ever wanted, he couldn't lose him over something as stupid as a forgotten anniversary. No way, he would run to him now.

Jumping in his car, chess set and letter in hand he had never broken as many speeding laws as he did that day.

Stiles yawned as he parked his jeep in the driveway and entered his house. He had not slept at all last night. It had taken all his woodshop skills and artistic flair to design that chess set. He'd called in every favour owed to him to find materials, get some designs drawn and then to find something other than paint to use for Derek's eyes. It had not been easy. In fact, most people would deny that Stiles was capable of such a feat. He wasn't a genius for nothing. He simply couldn't be bothered to utilize his skills for things as boring as school, he had straight A's, but he was barely ever awake during class…

Then he'd left his house as SOON as Derek's side was completely dried and finished and he'd dropped it off. He'd parked a good distance away so Derek wouldn't be awoken by the jeep, and he'd walked SUPER slowly and quietly to sneak up to the door and drop it off.

He'd gone straight to school after that because two hours of sleep did not make any sense. So he'd put some finishing touches on his own side of the chess set and went to school. Leaving his set on his desk in case...well yeah.

Eagerly he bounded up the stairs despite his exhaustion and hurried over to his desk. He gasped when he saw it. A jet black piece of wood connected to stunningly white piece. Upon the white side of the board, lay black wolves of various shapes and sizes and one the black side of the board was…well a ragtag group of humans. Hunter pawns decorated with "silver" weapons, a few humans standing tall but oblivious, a werewolf or two thrown in and finally one human standing while a wolf guarded his feet. The Stiles piece. He was particularly proud of that too.

Derek had been here, he'd been here! And he'd returned the chess set…Stiles felt his happiness dying for a moment. Was this a good thing or a bad thing?

Next to the set lay the letter he had sent but it looked bulkier, and Stiles picked it up curiously…Inside was his own letter and another one. Stiles felt his eyes widen as he took in the neat, flowing script that filled the pages. Damn Derek and his super neat, OCD handwriting.

'Sometimes you make me so angry that I feel like throwing you into oncoming traffic. But then I realise I would kill myself trying to save you afterwards...

-Love, Derek'

Derek chose the very moment when he heard elated laughter fill the air in to step in through the window. Stiles was looking down at his letter and laughing in pure amusement and the sight caused Derek's breath to hitch in his throat.

"I see you en-" Before Derek could finish a bundle of energy and love had tackled him and wrapped what had to be more than four limbs around him. Stiles was everywhere, hugging and touching and asking for permission.

Suddenly as if remembering himself, Stiles pulled away and even though Derek had been wondering how it was possible for the boy to touch him everywhere at once, he immediately missed the contact.

"I'm so sorry Derek." Stiles looked like he was about to cry and Derek immediately felt like the worst guy on the planet.

"You've been through a lot Stiles, werewolves, fighting for your life, that chemistry test. I understand how you could forget…it's…okay; I'malsosorry."Derek said hurriedly, unaccustomed to apologizing.

Relief washed over Stiles and then he titled his head curiously, "what was that?" he asked with a smirk and Derek growled before sealing their lips together. He'd touch him to mock him.

Two weeks of no contact neither physical nor emotional and Derek found himself practically drowning in Stiles. The boy was still inexperienced compared to Derek but he was always so damn earnest. Whatever Derek did he would return it two-fold and oh god. He was licking his goddamn ear now.

Shuddering he tried to remember when the kiss had been broken. When had stiles taken control? When had he- Derek cried out as he bit down on his ear lobe with practiced control over his strength and Derek quickly seized his lips once more. He desperately wanted to return all the feelings and emotions that were running through him. Dominating the kiss he licked Stiles' lips until he opened his mouth obediently and Derek plunged his tongue in without hesitating.

The battle was short lived, because Derek wasn't playing fair this time. He want Stiles to feel, to enjoy. He wrapped his tongue around Stiles' and good god, the boy made a soft desperate noise into his mouth that nearly sent Derek over the edge. Knowing how much he loved it he allowed his eyes to turn blue and stared at the man that he loved. He bit down gently on his lip and then redoubled his efforts with his tongue, wondering how loud Stiles' could make that noise…

Suddenly, startling them both came a voice from the door.

"Stiles you…" There was a very feminine eep as the person rounded the corner and arrived at the door.

Derek turned quickly, and froze.

Lydia.

"forgot your um…shirt." She was holding the offending item out in front of her and Derek growled at the implications…

Derek stared at the girl coldly, unaware that his eyes were still a shinnying blue. Unaware or he simply didn't care. Derek turned his gaze slowly to Stiles and then back to Lydia. Without another word, Derek Hale pounced.

Woo, I bet you didn't see THAT coming. Well, don't worry, it isn't what Derek thinks, although maaaybe I should do that. Nah, I'm gonna keep this story as drama free as possible (yeah, I know how ironic that statement is.) Anyway, tell me what you thought of the chapter, the plot, the present(s) and the ending! I will be mentioning a few other gifts that Stiles gave him, but as of right now I don't know what they'll be. So if you want to see Stiles give Derek anything (mind = gutterized) then review and suggest stuff and I'll snag the best ones.