After the previous night, Stiles had went home, and started to pack. His father tried to walk into his room a few times, but failed every time. Due to the shield around his door. When it was around one A.M. Stiles decided to get some sleep, so he laid down. Stiles woke at 8 A.M. the next morning, his room silent. Stiles finished packing up all of his things, sending each box out through the window, and into his jeep. When everything was packed away in his jeep Stiles walked down the stairs, knowing his father would be down there. "What you did was inexcusable, She wouldn't have been happy with you." Stiles said loud enough so his father could hear, before walking out of the front door.
Stiles jumped into his jeep, throwing it in reverse, and speeding down the road. Stiles drove for what seemed like hours, driving around Beacon Hills. Finally Stiles decided to go to a spot his mother used to go to when she was troubled. Stiles drove to the edge of town, turning off his jeep. Stiles picked up a bottle of water, and his phone. He got out of the jeep and walked around his jeep. His mother's place wasn't to far from where we was, so it wouldn't be hard getting there. He walked into the forest, and after a few minutes he could hear running water. Stiles quickened his pace until he got to his mother's favorite places. He took in the sight of the waterfall, running down a steep cliff. Stiles used to come here with his mother all the time. Stiles sat down on a rock at the edge of the pound, thinking over his options. He doubted Scott would let him move in, He's already got Isaac in his room 24/7. He couldn't go home. He didn't want to leave town.
After some time of thinking, Stiles heard a branch break near him. Stiles stood up, his eyes moving quickly over the brush surrounding the forest. "I don't know who you are, but don't be stupid." Stiles said as he searched for the enemy. After a few seconds a man stepped out of the underbrush. Stiles knew who it was, always will know that beautiful face, adorned with stubble. Will always remember the man in leather. Derek Hale. "What are you doing out here?" Derek asked, confusion evident in his voice. Stiles kicked a rock muttering, "My mother used to come here." Stiles knew Derek would hear his words, and Stiles watched as Derek visibly tensed up. "Thinking things over." Stiles said quickly. Derek looked confused. "About what?" He asked the younger man. Stiles took his spot on the rocks again, patting next to him. Derek took the seat without a word. "I left my dad." Stiles looked down at the crystal clear water. Stiles started to move his hands in a swaying motion, watching as a part of the water rippled. Stiles looked up, and saw the whole lake, moving in time with his hands. Stiles stilled them, only to see if the water would still and it did, he dropped his hands, waiting for Derek's reply. "Where are you going to go?" Stiles huffed a breath and shrugged his sounders. "Don't know sourwolf." Derek growled at the nickname, but more of a annoyed growl then a maim growl. "You could always come live in the pack house, you know." Derek said as he stood up. Looking down at Stiles, Derek could see his mate considering the option. Derek, content with himself, walked away.
After about an hour, fifteen minutes and six seconds,(Derek was so not counting) the doorbell rang, of course Derek knew who it was, the rattling of the jeep and the tripping of the foot as the person got out of the car. Derek got up and walked to the door, pulling it open. Stiles stood there, face flushed after seeing that Derek was shirtless. "If I'm going to be living here, either you're going to be fully clothed, or not at all." Stiles said as he walked into the house, his boxes of stuff floating in mid air behind him. "Where is my room?" Stiles asked as he turned around. Derek stepped up the stairs, a curious Stiles behind him. Derek stopped a door before his bedroom and opened the door for Stiles. "I would help you with your stuff but it looks like you got it." Derek said as he walked away from Stiles.
After Stiles was done packing, he walked down the stairs, evidently worn out. He sat next to Derek on the couch, watching the T.V. After a few minutes Derek threw his arm around Stiles, pulling him flush to his body. Whispering, "Sorry, you smell like ozone." Stiles snuggled into the warmth that was Derek, his left hand resting on Derek's rock hard abs, the other under Derek's massive body. Stiles head rest on Derek's firm chest, feeling the muscles. Derek sniffed the air, chuckling, and at Stiles bemused look Derek clarified. "You smell like arousal." Stiles tried to hide his face in Derek's chest, but Derek still saw the flush that rose on his white cheeks. "Good thing you're not a werewolf." Derek muttered to himself, low enough Stiles didn't catch it.