A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! That honestly made my day. Oh! So, this storm has been going on where I live for about 5 days and it freaked me out at first then I was like YES! I can predict weather! So yeah, it's still raining and the wind is intense and…yeah. It's awesome. This chapter was a little more difficult to write. If it seems a little off or rushed sorry about that.

WARNINGS: Triggering Descriptions Of Cutting And Depression! Attempted Suicide! Strong Language! Male X Male Smut! No sex yet but we're gettin' there!

ENJOY!

Chapter 7

When Stiles woke up the next morning silence greeted his ears. He'd slept for the last few hours of the morning with Derek's arms holding him tight to keep his nightmares away and it'd worked for the most part. He'd dreamed but he didn't remember it at all, just the memory that he'd had one remained. The light shining in above the blocked window was slightly brighter than usual and when he moved to see if Derek was awake a cold empty bed greeted him. His heart dropped hard and he sat up fast, kicking the blankets aside to run over to the bathroom to see if he was in there but the door was slightly ajar. His feet pounded against the concrete as he ran to the stairs and pounded up the metal to see if he was in the kitchen but a cold empty room stared blankly back at him. Trudging back down the stairs he looked at the big empty room and it dawned on him. Derek had left him. There was no note. There was nothing telling him that Derek had wanted to stay.

Stiles felt the cold creep in and he slowly backed up away from the giant empty space that seemed to grow bigger in front of him until he had backed himself into the corner beneath the stairs. He let his legs buckle beneath him and he slid down the rough wall until he sat upon the cold concrete floor. Everything was so silent around him again. Any warmth he'd felt last night was long gone. Derek had taken it with him. Stiles gasped loudly and felt his eyes prickle until his vision was blurred until the falling of hot tears cleared and it started over again.

He was having a panic attack.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice high. "I'm sorry, please come back. I'm so sorry."

But Derek didn't come back. Stiles sat there in the cold, arms wrapped around his legs, the tears from before drying in cold streaks down his face. The emptiness inside him grew swiftly and he simply collapsed there. He knew it was going to hurt when Derek left him. He just didn't expect it to be so soon. It hurt. And it was cold. Again. The day grew colder as he sat there, the white light from the morning fading back into the dark grey that had plagued the week. The sounds of the storm picked up once again and his mind buzzed with the endless rain. The loft was so silent, so still. He hated it. He hadn't realized he'd gotten used to all the activity over the last few days. If only Derek hadn't done that last night then he wouldn't be feeling his loss so intensely like this.

"Derek. I'm sorry." He whispered and got up from where he was sitting.

The pain inside of him had dulled to the point he felt lifeless. He couldn't have that. If he was lifeless he'd have another panic attack but these ones left him dead for days. It was better to have a different pain to focus on.

He stumbled over to his backpack and tugged the cold metal from beneath the folders and barely made it to the bathroom before he slumped to the floor. He peeled off his shirt and goosebumps rose on his flesh from the cold wall of the bathroom against his back. Tearing off the bandage he clicked the blade out of its metal covering and gripped it tight. Instead of the usual horizontal cuts he dragged the blade vertically along the top of his skin, creating shallow three inch cut. It barely bled and there wasn't enough sensation to cut through the haze like he needed so desperately. That desperation forced his hand to grip tighter and fiercely tugged the blade down his skin, cutting deep into the skin. Pain tore through him and he gave a half sob. He did it again. And again. Vertical cuts doubled the amount of horizontal cuts and his skin wept blood upon the floor and his clothes. He cried out as his cutter bit harshly into another one of his cuts but he continued. He began to feel woozy.

The door banged open but he paid it no mind, he was too focused on what he was doing. There was sound that rang in deaf ears and suddenly a strong hand gripped his. He screamed and struggled against the brutal hold. Blood spattered his body and ran down his arm. He felt so weak but he had to get rid of this deep, agonizing ache. This pain that seemed to be ingrained in him and he could never get rid of. He had to end it. He had to. Again he screamed, trying to force the unbreakable hold away. They slid on a patch of blood and Stiles ended up completely on top of a hard body. He sobbed brokenly into the body and just collapsed there. He didn't have enough strength to move away and more and he was hoping that the fire blazing in his arm that spread across his body would finally put an end to this empty pain.

"Stiles. Stiles, oh my g-…" he voice that finally made it through the white noise sounded awfully familiar. "Stiles, get up. Stiles! Please!"

Stiles didn't want to move. There was no way this voice belonged to who he thought it did. He couldn't face that pain. Not again. He'd been so alone. He was always alone. He just didn't want to be abandon again. A gut-wrenching sob burst from his chest and his fingers loosened its hold on the cutter until it clattered to the floor. The strong grip holding his arm let go and instead wrapped around him heedless of the blood.

"Stiles. We have to stop the bleeding. Please, please we have to stop it."

Stiles didn't make any move to get up. This voice was like sweet torture on his wrecked mind and heart. He just couldn't. He was so cold. The body was warm beneath him but he didn't seem to be absorbing any of that splendid heat. Instead the fire from his arm was turning to ice and it hurt so bad. Those strong arms were moving him again and he gave a half formed yell that bubbled from his throat. If he was dreaming then couldn't this wonderful voice just let him stay like that? Why was it forcing him to move? He cried out when he was moved away from the warm, familiar body and tried to grip at it but his fingers weren't working right. All he could manage was a small flail before his back was pressed against the cold wall once more. The warm body was gone and he sobbed loudly.

"Shh, it's ok. I'm right here. I won't leave you again. I'm so sorry Stiles."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Don't leave me." Stiles went back to mumbling over and over again.

Even when the voice reassured him that he wasn't leaving him and that he'd never leave him again he just couldn't believe it. There was no way this wasn't his sick twisted imagination creating cruel, messed up sensations that reminded him of Derek. Even as the strong hands turned gentle he couldn't convince himself that this person was real. The man in front of his fuzzy eyes wasn't the man who'd treated him so passionately last night. It wasn't the man who'd made him feel so much pleasure and it certainly wasn't the man who'd left him without a single word the morning after.

"Alone. So alone. Cold." He mumbled brokenly.

"I know. I'm sorry. Just please focus Stiles. Look at me."

The not-Derek's voice practically yelled at him and he made his eyes focus. Why did it have to be him? Didn't he hate him? Hadn't he always hated him? Maybe this whole time he'd been dreaming and nothing had actually happened to him. Maybe he was well and truly crazy. Completely insane.

"Stiles you're not crazy." The man said gently.

Stiles hadn't realized he'd said it out loud and quickly shut his quivering mouth. He didn't want the man to speak anymore. Didn't want to be reminded of those hot hands stroking his body. Didn't want to feel them as they cleaned the bloody mess he'd made. Yet they didn't go away. They continued to move his body ever so slightly as they dragged a wet cloth over his torn flesh. They continued to carefully spread the antibiotic salve over the gaping wounds. Proceeded to wrap bandages tightly around his arm all the way to his elbow before settling on top of them.

"Stiles, you still awake?"

Stiles looked at him through bleary eyes and shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sure I'm dreaming. You're not here. You left me. You hate me." His voice cracked. "But you feel so real!"

Derek's face was smeared with his blood from where Stiles' hand had hit him. Beyond that Stiles could see the pain etched into his face and the thought that he'd put that there made his abused heart ache. Derek's bloodied hand came up to rest on Stiles' pale face and he sighed.

"I'm real. I wouldn't leave you." He paused for a breath before continuing. "Let's get you clean. Come on, into the tub."

Stiles could do nothing but obey and he let himself be lifted like a small child and set into the tub. As Derek started the water a stray thought flitted across his mind. They had water again…and power… the light was on above the mirror and over the tub. Stiles couldn't focus on that right now. He could only stare at Derek as he adjusted the temperature and plugged the drain up before reaching for Stiles again. He shrunk back but in the tub there was no where he could go. Why couldn't this not-Derek just leave him alone. His left arm was lifted above his head and the bloodied dark blue shirt was carefully tugged over that arm, then his right arm until it made it over his head and disappeared over the tub's edge.

"Do you want me to take off your pants or will you do it?" Derek asked him in a soft voice.

Stiles didn't answer, just sat there as the tub began to fill, wetting his clothes and sticking them to his body. Honestly, he couldn't care less since this was only a figment of his imagination. He silently cursed how creative he seemed to be at the moment. The burning in his arm seemed real enough and those hands on him certainly didn't feel fake but Derek had left him.

"Left me. Derek left me." He sobbed and let his head thump against the tile wall.

"No, no, no. Stiles I'm here. I'm right here."

"No you're not. You're fake. I just want you to be real." Stiles shook his head and shut his eyes so he couldn't see that face that caused him this pain he didn't know he could feel.

Not-Derek didn't say anything more and went on undressing Stiles. Carefully he tugged the waistbands of the soaked sweats down Stiles' hips, lifting him with one arm around his torso, and slipping them off his legs. He squeezed them out and tossed them aside as well. Something plopped down on Stiles' lap and when he opened his eyes again a washrag was floating in the water above his groin.

"Washrag." He whispered as he remembered when Derek had helped him warm up from outside a couple days ago.

Nothing else was said after that and Stiles stayed put as his hair was washed and rinsed and then his skin was soaped down. Those hot hands skimmed along his right arm and down to his fingertips, washing all traces of blood away. His left arm was kept above water at all times. When it started to slip down it was always moved back up to rest on the edge of the tub. When the slippery soap was slid down his chest he let his head loll back and just let this strangely real mirage continue its cleaning.

The soap washed over his chest slowly, a hot hand trailing after to spread the soap. When those fingers ghosted over his nipples he let out a sigh and felt the hands stutter before continuing their soaping. They dipped into the water that had filled to just above his navel and started cleaning lower. Stiles let his knees fall open and watched as the not-Derek's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed sharply. If he was in less pain he'd contemplate baiting this guy but he just didn't have the energy and simply let him clean. His junk was completely bypassed and his legs were lifted from the water one by one to be cleaned. The last to be washed was his dick which he didn't lift a finger to help and instead punished the mirage Derek by making him clean.

"You're awfully real for a mirage." He mumbled aloud and the other Derek stopped to look at him with pain.

"You still don't believe I'm real…" he said and Stiles gave him a bitter half-smile without answering.

After they stared at each other a while Stiles was hoisted from the tub and his feet were slowly lowered to the floor. Stiles had to hold onto that muscular shoulder to keep from falling on his face but he managed to keep upright. As he was dried off Stiles wrapped his hand around his bandage and pressed, feeling the stinging pain burn through him. Quickly his hand was pulled away and held in that big, warm, comforting grip. He wanted to lean into it but he just couldn't.

"I need to get you some clothes."

Stiles heart seemed to stop beating before jack-rabbiting into high gear, his eyes turning frantic as he turned to look at him. Just the thought that even this Derek was going to leave him made him ache in ways that shouldn't even be possible. Not-Derek heard his hysterical heartbeat and saw the absolute panic in his face and quickly engulfed him with his arms, pulling his body against his own.

"Ok, calm down, I'm not going anywhere."

It took longer than it should have for Stiles' pulse and breathing to climb back to its normal levels. When it had he was still being held and gently rocked in this Derek's grip. He relaxed slowly and leaned heavily against him, never wanting to forget this warmth and safety he made him feel.

"Let's at least get you something warm to wear. You can come with me."

Stiles nodded and he was picked up once more in his arms and quickly carried out of the bloodied bathroom and across the loft to the bed where he was set down on the cold sheets. He shivered and the blankets were immediately pulled over him. As soon as he was let go his hand shot out and wrapped around an arm.

"I don't need clothes." He whispered.

The solid arm in his hand felt so real and when that face leveled with his he felt his heart ache. "Why weren't you here? I needed you." He croaked as he held back is emotions.

"I didn't mean to be gone that long. I screwed up, I'm sorry Stiles. Please believe me."

Stiles shook his head, trying to keep the illusion that this wasn't really Derek even though reality was starting to seep back into his muddled, half delusional brain.

"No, if I believe you it'll just hurt worse when you're really gone. When I have to go back to my dad's after the storm and be all alone again."

Derek yanked the covers back and slid into the bed alongside Stiles, covering his cold, naked body with his own clothed one. Stiles felt his entire body shiver and he ached so badly in that moment when Derek covered him. Derek's face was in his, those green eyes so fierce they bordered on angry.

"I will not leave you alone Stiles." He growled and pushed his mouth against Stiles' slightly parted lips he felt their teeth clack.

Stiles gave a strangled gasp and fisted his fingers into the back of Derek's shirt. He turned his head ever so slightly and slotted their mouths together and the kiss turned into a wild, angry fight. There was nothing soft or gentle about this. This was Derek demanding that Stiles accept that he was there and he was staying or so help him he was going to damn them both.

"What will it take to get through to you?! I have no idea what I'm doing!" Derek growled harshly against his lips.

Stiles felt like there was a crack running throughout his entire body. Like his body had been frozen under ice and fire was yanking it apart. What the hell had been done to him? A wave of guilt flooded through him and he whimpered into Derek's painful kiss.

"You used to be so strong Stiles. You never gave up. Why would you now?" Derek's hands slid down his sides and gripped his hips harshly, leaving imprints in the skin.

"Derek!" Stiles' gasped his name breathlessly, the sound barely above a whisper.

"I thought you needed to be treated gently but then I saw you…this!" he hissed and pulled Stiles' left arm up to push it into his face as he backed up from the kiss.

Stiles knew he was crying by now but the tears were hot and angry. "I didn't want to!" he cried loudly, yelling at Derek now.

"You never said anything!"

"Would you have listened?!"

"I would if I'd known!"

"Bullshit! You never gave a flying fuck about anything I said." Stiles sobbed. "None of you did. After all I'd been through, none of you even looked at me." His voice was quieting down now, sounding broken but alive. "I'm so fucked up Derek. So fucked."

Derek glared down at him as Stiles' face went from that awful pale to bright pink in anger. That was the color he liked to see on Stiles' face.

"I never knew." He whispered to him that bordered on a growl.

"Knew what? That I'm not as strong as I pretend to be? That I-I'm so messed up that I'm a complete mess?! 'Cause yeah! You didn't know! No one knew! No one cared to know!"

Derek shook his head. "No. You're right. I didn't know. But you're also so wrong Stiles. I care. I'm not a monster."

Stiles stilled beneath Derek, his chest heaving from yelling at him. "Then why didn't you stay? I'm not just talking about last night. I'm talking about after all that shit had gone down with the Alphas? After I'd been fucked over by a fucking Nogitsune?! Did it even cross your mind that I might not be ok?"

"Yes but it also crossed my mind that you might not want me prying into what had happened."

Stiles shook his head and looked away, hot tears still falling from his eyes. Suddenly he felt so exhausted.

"You know what. Forget it. I don't want to talk about that right now. What I do want to know is why you weren't there this morning? You left me. Alone. Again." He emphasized each word.

Derek sighed and nodded, shuffling off of Stiles and lying down beside him, his hands still on Stiles, pulling him towards him. Stiles went with him even though he still expected an answer.

"The storm cleared this morning just before dawn and I knew I only had a little bit of time before the storm came back. I thought you were going to be asleep for a while longer since you barely slept at night. I went to go see Scott and Isaac at Lydia's to see what they'd found." He paused and Stiles looked at him expectantly.

"And? Did they find anything useful?" Stiles prompted.

"Uh, well, kind of. There are two theories but one is definitely stronger than the other. If the storm lasts for another two days then we'll know for sure."

"Then why did it take so long for you to come back if that was all they had to tell you?"

Derek sighed and gazed up at the ceiling. "I went to check on your dad, Melissa, and Allison and as I was coming back the storm picked up again and I got caught in it."

Stiles was barely breathing next to him as he realized what had happened. "You went to see my dad…" he paused for a second to swallow the lump in his throat. "I-is he ok? How's he doing?"

Derek rubbed a soothing hand over his side. "He's fine. He was wrapped up in a blanket, drinking a cup of hot cocoa and reading a magazine about guns when I looked in on him."

Stiles relaxed completely and turned onto his side to bury his face into Derek's shoulder. He felt a huge weight lift off of him and he sighed heavily before turning his face so his cheek was pressed against Derek.

"Thanks." Wave after wave of guilt and anger and sadness washed through him. His arm was stinging and throbbing under the bandages and he pulled that arm behind his back, ashamed. "I…" he bit his lip and struggled to calm himself and find the right words, "I was…so stupid. I thought everything was just so…helpless." He whispered. "I mean…when you left I just knew you were disgusted and had to hate me by now. I'm…broken…and lifeless…and stupid and we'd done something like that and we're both male and…ugh."

"Yeah, you're definitely all of those, but so am I." Derek admitted gruffly. "I had no clue how to help you. I felt hopeless seeing you like that and knowing I couldn't do anything." He growled. "I'm don't do feelings."

"Isn't that true." Stiles grumbled against his chest.

"It is true. From now on you'll tell me exactly how you're feeling and if I find out that you've lied to me I will be angry. I'll be more than angry, I'll be pissed. You do not want me pissed." Derek threatened.

Stiles swallowed thickly and nodded. "I don't know if you could do anything that I haven't already done to myself."

"I can, and I will. There are worse things Stiles." He said and only half as a threat.

In the past Stiles would have been snarky about something like that but with everything Derek had just shared with him about his helplessness and feelings there was no way he'd belittle him like that. So instead he just nodded and buried his face into Derek's shoulder once more. The storm whistling outside was the only noise for a long while. The little bit of sun that'd been lighting the clouds finally disappeared and they were left in total darkness. After the dark had settled around them Stiles lifted his head and gazed up at Derek.

"Is it bad that I'm a guy? Is there any chance?" he whispered to him.

The beat between Stiles' questions and Derek's answers was so long that for a moment Stiles thought that he'd fallen asleep but then he shifted beneath him and they were both on their sides looking at each other.

"I've only ever been with females before, never males. I have no idea how I'll do."

Stiles shook his head and leaned their foreheads together. "As long as you don't abandon me I'm fine with whatever happens."

"What if I end up hurting you? What if you end up hurting me?" Derek asks.

Stiles sighs and for a second he's silent. "Well, I can't guarantee that I won't hurt you somehow but I'm sure that there's no way you can hurt me more than I've already been hurt." He whispers and presses his bandages against Derek's arm that's still around his middle.

Derek flinches but nods. "Ok. I can give this a try."

"Ok." Stiles says back and that's all he's asking for.

He would never ask Derek to commit himself to him because who knows what's in store for them. Maybe someone will come along who's not totally deranged and self-damaged who happens to catch Derek's eye. The thought literally causes him pain as he suddenly clenches his left fist but he'll deal with that if it comes to that.

"Can we just do this right, now? Like, start over? I'm pretty sure I fucked up all of this. Our first kiss was supposed to be really romantic and gentle and it's definitely supposed to come before the hand-job."

Derek finally cracks a faint smile at that. "I don't think there's any need to start over since this is just the way that things are. Let's take it from here." He says and pulls Stiles close and kisses him so softly, so sweetly that Stiles almost couldn't believe that this was actually Derek. The same Derek that used to push him into walls and slam his head against steering wheels.

But it was the same Derek. The same Derek that had bathed him and clothed him and saved him from himself. Sure Stiles wasn't all better and would definitely need some serious help still, but, it's the same Derek whose fingers had given him shivers and had held him until he'd slept. The same Derek whose hands felt like brands against his cold skin as he held onto him like he was falling to pieces. And that Derek was the one that was kissing him with lips that tasted like mint and the faint metallic taste of blood. He's amazing.

Stiles pressed himself closer, his arms going around Derek's shoulders as he's turned onto his back once more, Derek's weight settling softly over his. His lips are so soft in contrast to the slight scrape of stubble across his chin and nose as he presses deeper into the kiss, letting his mouth fall open when those lips give way to a probing tongue. The tremble that dances through his chest and down his spine makes him moan lightly. Derek answers with a not so quiet growl deep in his chest. Those wonderful fingers and hands that Stiles loves so much are dancing over his skin, down his sides, up his chest and over his stomach. Everywhere they can reach is touched and rubbed and Stiles feels his heart stutter with each fleeting sensation.

"I want this Stiles. Can I have this?" Derek asks excitedly into Stiles' mouth.

The answering groan Stiles lets out is absolutely filthy yet Derek just keeps nipping at his lips and chin.

"I need an answer." He growls sharply.

"Yes! Oh please, Derek, come on!" Stiles cries breathlessly.

"Good." Derek rumbles and suddenly his mouth is everywhere on Stiles' skin.

Those hot lips trail fire down his jaw and over his neck, sucking harsh marks into his pulse point before his tongue is darting out and laving over his collarbone. Stiles give a sharp yelp as slightly sharp teeth bite into the hollow of his collarbone. Derek is unforgiving as he nips and bites his way over Stiles' skin. Stiles' fingers flutter over Derek's back uselessly before his need of Derek's skin on his has him tugging and pulling at his shirt. There's a rush of air between them as Derek sits up on his knees over Stiles and yanks his shirt over his head. Stiles should be embarrassed by the dirty moan that leaves his mouth but he's too preoccupied with running his fingers over the hot skin on Derek's abs.

Derek's eyes are all over Stiles' body. Even in the dark his pale skin practically glows and he can see every contour, every dark mole decorating his skin. He swears he can even see the dark flush atop his chest that spreads up his neck and tints his cheeks. When he's done admiring the top half his eyes lick down his body until it gets to the growing need between Stiles' thighs. His slender cock is filling up quick, throbbing as he hardens under Derek's solid stare.

"Derek, hurry up!" Stiles yells and pulls on his hips to lower him once more to his body.

Derek grinds down onto Stiles and relishes in the bitten off cry. He wanted to take this slower at first but there's no way that he can with those lewd cries Stiles keeps letting out.

"Do you believe I'm real now?" he growls.

Stiles pants and looks up into his face with shining honey eyes. "Get those pants off and I might."

Derek bites back a groan and pushes his pants off with help from Stiles' grabby hands. When those hands grasp each firm cheek and pull him forward to grind together he hisses and grabs the left one gently to pry it off of him and pin it against the pillow next to his disheveled hair.

"Let me." He growls and Stiles practically writhes under him with impatience and anticipation.

Derek lets go of his hand and when it stays there like it should he leans back a little onto both knees and places his hands on Stiles' knees. Looking him right in the eye he pulls his knees up and out from between Derek's legs and slowly spreads them. Stiles pants and does his best not to force his legs shut. The intense look in Derek's eyes has him squirming either to get away or to get closer he's not sure. Then his eyes drift away from his and seem to devour his body until he's staring intently at the hard cock nestled against the dark pubic hair at his groin. Stiles can't help but do the same, his eyes darting to take in the sight of Derek's thick, heavy cock jutting out from his hips.

Derek can smell the burst of precum from Stiles' cock and looks up to see what's caused it and feels a strong spark of pride as he sees his gaze alighted on his cock. The salty headiness fills the air and makes him twitch which doesn't go unnoticed by Stiles.

"Quit staring. Either touch me or let me touch you."

Derek shifts forward on his knees until the front of his thighs touch the back of Stiles' and he pushes his legs farther up until Stiles is bent almost in half and Derek can see the wink of Stiles' pucker between his pale ass cheeks.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" Derek asks lowly.

"A-anywhere." Stiles mutters back, his hips twitching.

Derek gives him a small smirk before lowering him back to the bed and putting his feet back onto the sheets. Stiles groans in disappointment that makes Derek chuckle.

"You're a tease. You're teasing me! Hey, where are you going?"

Derek shushes him quickly with a fast, heady kiss which distracts him long enough afterwards that he can lean over and slide the drawer of his nightstand open and rifle around the back until his fingers touch the cold plastic tube of lube. He doesn't bother closing the drawer and sets himself back between Stiles legs.

Stiles' heart is pounding a mile a minute as he watches Derek flick the lid of the lube open and can feel himself twitch in eagerness. He wraps his fingers around his cock and strokes like he remembers Derek doing to him the night before and groans where Derek stops to watch him. His fingertip massages his slit that oozes precum and has to drown out a moan with a bite to his lip. Derek's mouth is on his faster than he could comprehend and his hand was being knocked aside and replaced with a hot, slick one. Immediately he bucks up into his hand and lets out a loud whine into his mouth. Derek can't hold back the low moan in response that gets lost in the kiss.

"F-faster." Stiles manages to breathe out and feels his hand speed just a fraction.

There's suddenly something hotter than Derek's hand pressing against his dick and he immediately knows what it is. He lets out a strangled grown and wraps his legs around Derek's waist and pulls him closer. The hand wraps around the both of them and strokes the opposite direction of their undulating hips. Stiles can't help but make filthy noises into Derek's mouth and he just eats them up, pressing his tongue against his lips and slides against his tongue, practically wringing the sounds from him.

"Close. Stiles." Derek huffs as he breaks the wet kiss.

Stiles nods frantically since words seem to be failing him and grips onto Derek's biceps. Their hips thrust together faster, Derek's hand gripping tighter and suddenly they're cumming. Derek cums first, hot spurts of spunk landing messily on Stiles stomach which has Stiles cumming right after him, clenching tightly around him as he shoots his own load alongside Derek's. They collapse together onto the bed, Derek falling to the side so he doesn't squish Stiles. Their orgasmic bliss lasts longer than it had the night before and Stiles sighs when Derek pulls him to his body and runs a finger through their combined mess.

"You smell good." Derek says suddenly.

Stiles can't help the bubble of laughter that springs to his lips at the unexpected comment. "Uh, thanks? Is that really weird pillow talk?"

Derek shakes his head. "No, I mean it. You smell good. You smell like me." He says and buries his nose into Stiles' neck.

"Is this a werewolf thing?"

"Um, I don't know. I've never cum on someone before."

Stiles hums his acknowledgement and can't help but feel a sense of smugness. "Good to know."

Derek nods and sighs into his skin as he rubs the mess into Stiles' skin. They stay like that until the cum starts to dry, leaving them slightly sticky, slightly crusty, and more than slightly uncomfortable. There's no need to say anything, there's just a sort of mutual agreement and Derek climbs over Stiles and the covers that had been thrown to the end of the bed and then off the side of the bed.

"I'll be right back ok? Promise. Just getting some water, food, and a washcloth."

Stiles gulps silently but nods anyways, trusting Derek to come back this time. He watches him leave with anxious eyes and follows his movement first to the bathroom and feels relief flood him when he comes back out with a damp washcloth. He takes the washcloth and slowly starts cleaning up the mess on his stomach and dick as he watches intently as Derek disappears up the stairs. There's a sick feeling of apprehension as he waits for Derek to reappear. He manages to get himself completely cleaned off and pulls the covers back up the bed to cover his rapidly cooling body. A slow tendril of panic makes its way into his mind when five minutes have passed and Derek still hasn't returned.

"Um, Derek?" he calls softly into the dark.

"I'm still here Stiles!" Derek calls back down and immediate relief floods Stiles and he slumps back against the pillows.

Derek's footsteps are loud in the almost quiet room, only broken by the sound of wind and sleet against the window. When Derek has set the food and water on the nightstand and had crawled back into bed Stiles snakes his arms around his waist and presses his face into Derek's side. A hand combs through his messy hair and he sighs.

"I told you I wouldn't be long."

"Yeah. Sorry." Stiles mumbles and nuzzles into him.

Derek pushes him off slightly to grab the food and hands it to Stiles. "Eat then drink then sleep. In that order."

"What, I can't drink then eat?"

Derek gives him a withering look that Stiles gives a sheepish smile in return to before taking a bite of his butter sandwich. It felt good settling into his empty stomach and surprisingly it only took him three more bites to finish it and wanting another. But instead of asking he simply took the bottle of water and chugged two big mouthfuls before sighing and handing it back.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Go to sleep."

Stiles didn't argue with the command and once Derek had settled in beside him he pressed his naked body to Derek's and sighed in contentment.

"Just…be there when I wake up, ok?" he says quietly when he feels sleep slowly starting to crawl over him.

"I will be. Sleep now, talk later."

"Ok."

Stiles is out faster than he's been in months and Derek lays there holding him, satisfaction settling over him. That night Stiles sleeps completely through the night with no dreams and surprisingly no nightmares.

A/N: So, yeah. This chapter was a little more difficult to write cuz I had to write in Stiles' insanity, Derek's insecurity and feelings, and then a smut scene. All of my chapters are about 15-20+ pages in Word Document. This chapter in particular was actually 22 pages long. I write every chapter in the wee hours of the morning before I post so it's usually about 3 am here by the time I'm done. Whew!

I hope you enjoyed, stay tuned for more! Chapters are posted randomly so…expect one either tomorrow or in a couple days! Review to let me know your ideas for the next chapters! Every view is very much appreciated! I loves you!

Sleepy time she comes ~hearts~