It continued like that for weeks. Most nights Derek was there before he fell asleep, others he'd wake in the middle of the night with Derek's arm around him while he was latched onto the guy's side like an octopus; Something Derek called him numerous times over those next few weeks. The closer they got to the pack house being finished, the harder he seemed to latch on at night.
Like he knew those nights were numbered. Because once the house was finished he was sure Derek would have no reason to come to his bed and he wanted to hang on to every moment of this that he could. Stiles knew he was setting himself up for future heartbreak but figured he'd soak up what time he could while it was available. Future Stiles could deal with the heartbreak.
On a dreary Thursday, the pack was out on the preserve working under an overcast sky that threatened rain. Or possibly snow with as cold as the weather had become. Christmas was only a few weeks off. All the plumbing and electrical was finished, and everyone was painting or installing cabinets in bathrooms or the massive kitchen Peter had commissioned. He was working with all four Hales in the kitchen.
Malia had been shooting him hopeful glances since they'd gotten to work, for the life of him Stiles couldn't figure out why; but every time she came close to speak to him she would duck away again. He and Derek had laughed and teased Cora about the last full moon for nearly an hour. She'd fully shifted into a beautiful black wolf and was unable to turn back for almost two full days. They knew it was an impressive thing for her to have done but they couldn't stop laughing at her panic that she would be stuck that way forever.
Cora accepted the teasing good-naturedly and quipped back with ease that Derek had gone the wrong direction entirely when trying to catch Malia -who was much faster than Isaac- or that Stiles had fallen out of a tree while trying to chase Liam up it. Derek, while still laughing, had just opened his mouth for another retort when Peter interrupted their teasing.
"I was really hoping everything would be finished before Christmas. I'd been hoping to have a big party here." The eldest Hale looked around the kitchen mournfully.
"Wait? Were we supposed to buy gifts for the whole pack?" Stiles asked, suddenly worried. The only person he'd bought anything for was his dad.
"Mm, it is tradition that the pack exchange gifts, though really I'd just been hoping for a nice dinner. I suppose we can just limit it to family this year." He nearly pouted his disapproval.
Cora, blunt as ever, rolled her eyes. "Half the pack will be with their own families, anyway. They aren't going to drag everyone out here."
"I dunno, I was going to Scott's after Dad and I had breakfast. He was already planning to work to give someone else a day off with their little kids." Stiles shrugged. Even if he didn't go to the McCall's, he'd spent Christmas alone before. He wasn't sure why it only just occurred to him that this was the first Christmas in a long time that he would mind being alone. With all of the pack, who he thought of as family, it would feel lonely not to see them all.
"Why don't we invite the McCall's over?" Malia piped up beside her father.
"Mm, that will depend on how close we are to being done here." Peter nodded thoughtfully. Just then, a thud echoed from somewhere above, followed by the sound of Allison's giggles which made him sigh.
"Which will never happen if teenage hormones prevail."
"What did you expect: Leaving Scott and Allison to work together? Isaac and Kira are getting to be just as awful." Cora rolled her eyes, as though it were a huge annoyance. Stiles knew better, if only because he'd seen her and Liam sneaking off a handful of times already.
"I'm thinking about turning a hose on them," Peter muttered, then turned to resume work.
Stiles snickered while fitting a cabinet into place so that Cora could affix it with nails. Peter and Derek worked on installing the island counter as Malia sidled up next to him again. "Stiles?" Her voice was hesitant, yet hopeful. Once more, he spotted that shy look about her.
"What's up?" Malia twisted her fingers together nervously while glancing around the room. Like she'd suddenly forgotten what she'd wanted to say. "You okay?"
Her warm gaze danced back to him and she nodded. She pointed toward the sliding door leading out into the yard and he took the hint that she wanted to talk to him privately. After casting a confused glance at each of the Hales -Cora pursed her lips, Peter avoided his gaze, and Derek looked as confused as he was- he followed. She leaned against a post surrounding the freshly built deck, hands clasped before her. Stiles barely slid the door closed again when the words tumbled out as one. "Doyouwannagetdinnerwithme?" Her whole face flushed.
Stiles blinked in surprise, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I.. what?" Somehow, he felt he should have been expecting it with the way the girl had acted all day. Yet, he hadn't. At all. Jackson had told him almost a week ago that Malia was crushing on him, but Stiles had refused to see it. Maybe he'd just misheard her in the jumble of words that had escaped her. Maybe she wasn't asking him out.
Malia took a calming breath and tried again, though didn't have any more luck the second time around. "Would you want to getdinnerwithme? Maybegotoamovie?"
She was asking him out. "Uuuh," he stared helplessly back at her. While he liked Malia -she was a sweet kid, who wouldn't?- he didn't have interest in her beyond friendship. The worst part -for him, anyway- was that he'd never had to turn someone down. It wasn't as though there was always a line of people trying to take their shot with him, despite what Jackson had said about girls batting their eyes at him. Panic rose when he floundered for a response, in that panic color formed on his cheeks and he looked wildly about for a proper excuse. She watched him expectantly and after he was sure the silence had stretched too long, all he'd managed to come up with was, "m-maybe after the holidays?"
Malia flashed a smile so wide he was certain she'd misunderstood. Crap. The girl didn't give him a chance to say anything else before darting around him into the house, leaving him flabbergasted. This wasn't how today was supposed to go. At all.
When he made his way into the kitchen, Malia was nowhere to be seen and Cora kept glaring in his direction. Derek was silent and didn't look his way. Instead, he focused on his task while Peter muttered about the color of the granite countertops. Stiles was certain that it was meant to be a distraction from the sudden awkwardness. Clearly, they'd heard. Not that he'd expected anything else with only a thin pane of glass separating them.
–
The rest of their workday was awkward. Derek didn't meet his eye or talk to him at all, Cora hammered a few nails just a little too hard, and Malia didn't return to the kitchen. Peter was the only one who acted as though nothing had happened. Which was something to be grateful for.
–
Derek didn't come that night. Or the next. Or the next after that. In fact, the only time he saw the guy over the next week was when he showed up on the preserve to work. Even then, Derek seemed to be avoiding him. Including at pack meets. Derek would find himself in conversation with his uncle or sister or Erica which left Stiles little opportunity to attempt talking to him about how he was no longer sleeping well.
It was frustrating just how much he missed him. Especially considering he was right there. He knew he should have expected some distance to grow between them as they drew closer to the pack house being finished, he just hadn't expected it to be so abrupt, or so hard. Stiles figured they'd still talk, at least, instead of Derek acting as though any space Stiles occupied was vacant.
He knew that it all stemmed from Malia's proposal, because he and Derek had been just fine before it, and he'd tried over the last week to tell her he wasn't interested or that if they went out it would be as friends and pack mates. The girl was confident, however, that it was a real date and that Stiles liked her much more than he was letting on. He didn't know how else to say it without coming across as mean.
Worse, he didn't understand why a potential date with Malia would make Derek stop talking to him. He'd come to rely on the guy for so much. Not just within the pack as his second or at night to curl against for sleep, but as a friend. He and Derek had talked about everything and now… nothing. God, he'd even take something as simple as a chat about the freakin weather at this point.
In an attempt to distract himself from the impending broken heart, he went out with his friends. Of course, Scott and Allison were so damned adorable that it didn't help anything. And the way Isaac and Kira lounged happily on one another only made things worse. Thank whatever power there was that Jackson and Lydia had long since outgrown the need to be all over one another in public. The group sat at the bowling alley, playing a few games, eating pizza, and chatting about school, Christmas, or the winter dance. The dance Lydia was adamant Stiles would attend, despite his protests.
Allison, of course, was a pro bowler. Scott was terrible. Stiles wasn't much better. Bowling required more coordination than he had on a good day. Isaac was much more coordinated and made a decent bowler, even if he couldn't compare to Lydia, who turned everything into a mathematical equation and was an excellent player. Jackson always beat everyone, even at a sport like bowling. And for someone who had spent the majority of her life in captivity, Kira was a stellar player.
But it was a distraction. Or, well, it had been. "You're not actually going to go out with Malia, are you?" Lydia asked after she sat back down.
Stiles sighed bodily and slumped down further into his seat. "Not on a real date, no."
"She seems to think it's a real date." Kira put in while pressed against Isaac's side.
"Actually," Allison chimed in as she shooed Scott to take his turn, "She's not really sure. She keeps bouncing back and forth between thinking you only want to be friends and that you like her."
He huffed and clambered to his feet when Scott sat down after two gutterballs. "I like her well enough, but-"
"She's not the one you really like," Jackson finished for him.
The silence of the rest of the group caused his attention to turn back toward them. Stiles felt his cheeks warming. He wasn't sure why he'd been under the assumption that only Erica and Jackson knew, but until the rest of them exchanged a look, he had been. "Wait. So all of you know?"
"That you have feelings for Derek?" Scott's brows went up, a smile forming, "I think everyone but Derek knows, dude."
"Wha-" He flailed his arms so much that the ball dropped and rolled right into the gutter behind him. "You guys suck." Stiles muttered while watching the ball roll slowly away.
"I still don't understand why you haven't said something to him," Jackson said when Stiles flopped back down, not bothering to take the second turn.
Isaac decided to do it for him and rolled a spare. Jerk. "Because it wouldn't matter?" Stiles replied dejectedly, "It's not like he has an interest in me." When the others shared another look he groaned, "What?"
"Stiles… you really should just tell him how you feel. We can all see that it's hurting you to not say anything." Scott's earnest face was so hard not to just give in to. That bright sunshine that always exuded out of the boy usually lightened Stiles' world. He wished it would work right now.
Stiles only shrugged in response while watching Kira take her shot. Perfect down the middle for a strike. He changed the subject after that, back to the winter formal. While he appreciated their concern and advice, it was difficult to take it. Especially when Derek wasn't talking to him.
–
Later that evening, after getting sick of the lovey-dovey scene of his friends in their perfectly happy relationships, Stiles flopped onto the sofa. The Sheriff was meant to work the late shift tonight but after seeing his son slouched on the sofa, looking forlorn and depressed, Noah leaned over the back of it. He ruffled a hand through Stiles' hair and said, "hey kid. Let's go catch a movie and dinner," with a fond smile. He rarely called off of work, but if his son needed him Noah wouldn't hesitate.
"Eh, there's nothing good out," Stiles replied in a monotone, flicking through the channels without even bothering to pay much attention to what was on.
"Let's go get dinner, then?" His father suggested.
Stiles shrugged without tearing his gaze from the screen. "Not hungry, Dad."
Noah frowned and glanced at the TV, "want to watch the game with me?"
He switched the channel to his dad's game, then recognition played across his features as his brows knitted up and he turned to look at his father. In full uniform. "Aren't you supposed to work tonight?"
"Yeah... I was thinking about playing hooky to catch the game." Stiles saw through it, the uptick in his father's heartbeat gave it away even if he hadn't.
"I think I'm just gonna turn in."
Noah exhaled a sigh and nodded as Stiles stood. The Sheriff reached across the couch for the remote, then clicked the television off. Stiles barely put his foot on the bottom step when Noah spoke again. "Stiles?"
"Yeah, Dad?"
"You know you can talk to me about anything right?"
Stiles paused there, looking back at the man. For a moment everything came burbling up. He wanted to tell his dad every single detail about what had been going on since their return to Beacon Hills. He wanted to tell his father about the werewolves, the werewolf hunters, the crazy monsters he'd heard of, the battles he'd been in, and the one he was currently struggling with. He wanted to tell his dad about Derek and hope that the man had some damned good advice. Instead, he cast a quick smile at his father and nodded. "I know, Dad."
Noah stared a few seconds longer before nodding. "Night, kiddo."
He'd heard his dad leave for work but Stiles didn't actually go to bed like he'd said. Well, he was in bed. All he'd done was lie there in his brooding thoughts. He wondered if it was better to just tell Derek like everyone kept telling him to do. Or if he should cut his losses and go on the 'date' with Malia. It wasn't fair to the girl, though. Get her hopes up that he might have feelings for her when he didn't. At all. She was sweet and he did like her. Just not in the way she deserved.
Exhaling a sigh, he rolled onto his side and clutched his pillow. Sleep was proving to be an impossibility tonight, his mind too bothered. He'd laid down at 8 and had done nothing but toss and turn since. Flopping onto his back again, Stiles reached for his phone to check the time. Almost 1. He held onto the phone for a few moments longer in debate before pushing himself to sit up against the headboard. After scrolling through his contacts he opened a message to Derek and texted: 'Where have you been, big guy?'
He watched the check marks on his screen showing it was delivered, then read. Blue dots formed when Derek started a reply, then disappeared. Started, then disappeared again. Three more times before a single word came through. 'Home.'
Chewing his lower lip he typed out 'I miss having a teddy bear' then quickly deleted it. Instead, he sent 'Everything okay?'
It popped up as read instantly but it took several minutes before Derek responded with another singular word. 'Yeah.' Stiles leaned back against the headboard with a sigh as another message came through, 'Why?'
He bit a little more firmly on his lip while typing out, 'Haven't really seen you lately. Thought maybe something was wrong…?'
'No.' Somehow that wasn't a comforting answer. In fact, it just made him wonder if he'd done something to annoy Derek beyond the issue with Malia, that is. He just couldn't think of what it was.
Shifting on the bed, Stiles pulled his knees closer to his chest and rested his arms on them, phone propped to see it better. 'You sure you're okay?'
This time there was a pause in the response, taking nearly five minutes for it to come through. In the meantime, he scrolled back through some of their previous conversations, most of which were much longer with little to no punctuation. It just deepened the belief that Derek was putting distance between them. When his phone vibrated with the incoming message he scrolled to the bottom to see another single word. 'Fine.'
Throwing caution to the wind, he typed out his earlier message and sent it before he could think better of it. 'I miss having a teddy bear.'
Stiles waited and waited and waited some more after it was marked read, but no response came. Not even an attempt at one. He dropped his head back against the headboard and stared at the waving shadows on his wall. Okay, so maybe he shouldn't have sent it. Maybe that's what he'd done to bother Derek: clinging to him the way he had. He checked for a new message once more, then tossed his phone onto the bedside table and laid back down with a heavy sigh, pretty sure he wouldn't be getting any sleep whatsoever tonight.
All of this was so damned frustrating. It looked like 'Future Stiles' problem had just become his problem and it hurt more than he wanted to admit. He pushed his hands back through his hair, then rubbed at his face with a deep sigh.
Barely ten minutes passed when the window slid open and that all too familiar scent hit him. He turned to gaze warily at Derek when he stepped into the room and closed the window behind him. The elder teen didn't say anything, just toed off his shoes and settled down into bed beside him. He lay there for a minute before shifting enough to raise his arm so that Stiles could fit himself into the space there as he usually did.
Except this time he didn't curl into him. Stiles only stared at him, trying to figure out if Derek was here because he wanted to be or just because Stiles had basically asked him to. While Stiles was glad that Derek was here, he didn't want him to be here if it wasn't what he wanted. And considering the distance that had come between them, he doubted the elder teen wanted to be here in any capacity. After a long stretch of silence, Derek dropped his arm and looked at him with both brows raised, the unspoken question hung in the air.
Stiles stayed on his side, chewing at his lower lip for a moment. "You don't have to be here… if you don't want to."
That earned a roll of Derek's green eyes as though Stiles was being irritating, and then lifted his arm again. "I know." He stared at Stiles before casting a glance toward the space at his side in a way that said 'come on'.
Hesitantly, Stiles tucked himself against Derek's side, though this time he kept his limbs contained and just rested his head on Derek's bicep. Both were quiet again for a little while. The longer they lay there the more relaxed Stiles allowed himself to be, just soaking in that contact and the scent of the guy beside him. He was almost ashamed at how easily that smell could lull him into a sense of peacefulness. Stiles' fingers fidgeted with Derek's shirt idly before clearing his throat. He couldn't let himself drift off to sleep without asking, "So, what's been going on?"
Derek tensed. "Nothing."
"Bull, Der. I haven't seen you in days. You're avoiding me. Why?" Stiles kept his head on Derek's arm and stared toward his navel to avoid looking him in the eye, worried the other teen would see the hurt in his.
Derek released a sigh. "I've been busy."
"With?" He prompted because the sudden tick in Derek's heartbeat indicated a lie.
"Not everything is your business, Stiles."
"It is when you're avoiding me." He countered, feeling aggravated at the attempted dismissal.
"I'm not." Another lie.
Stiles frowned and pulled away again, as he did Derek's arms crossed over his chest. Defensive. He watched the elder teen for a moment, then rolled onto his back and murmured, "maybe you should go."
Stiles didn't look at Derek when he stiffened beside him, just stared at the ceiling. "Why?"
"You don't want to be here, Derek." He folded his own arms, taking up the same position to close himself off. Before Derek could protest or say anything else he added, "You know, for a long time you talked to me. Actually talked. You didn't hide anything, or at least, you didn't outright lie to me. So, if you don't want to be here, then just go. If you're only here because of some werewolf-y thing to do what your Alpha asks, then you don't need to be here. No one's forcing you." He ground his teeth, hating saying it. Stiles didn't want Derek to leave but wouldn't ask him to stay. Especially if it wasn't what Derek wanted. Of course, he wanted Derek to stay. Stiles longed for those nights when they would lay here either talking until one or the other fell asleep or his dad got home. Or laying here wound around each other.
But Derek didn't move to get out of bed. He just laid there looking broody and frustrated. It took a while for him to say anything. "I do." Rolling onto his side to face Stiles, his gaze danced over the younger teen's face who resolutely kept his eyes glued to the ceiling. There wasn't a lie detected in his heartbeat but the guy hadn't said much, either. Stiles grunted in disbelief. In his periphery, he saw Derek shift again, this time to extend his hand toward Stiles. He hesitated for a split second, then combed his fingers back through the soft brown locks on Stiles' head, whose eyes fluttered shut at the contact. It was annoying how easily his body betrayed him. "Stiles." He whispered to get his attention. Stiles exhaled slowly, then finally turned to look at him again as those fingers slipped around to brush along his neck. The feeling sent a shiver up his spine. "I do want to be here." The words were heavy with feeling.
The intensity of his stare made Stiles' stomach flip, it also made it nearly impossible to break eye contact. Derek moved just a hair closer, just enough that he was pressed against Stiles' side. His hand hooked gently against the curve of his neck, his thumb brushed along his jaw and suddenly Stiles' heart was pounding. He knew Derek heard it, especially when the little smirk tugged at the elder teens' lips. Lips Stiles had to fight not to stare at. "Der…?" He swallowed thickly, feeling his willpower not to lean in crumbling.
"Hmm?" Derek hummed, stroking his thumb across Stiles' jawline, the nail brushed over the corner of his mouth.
The action made his breath catch. Stiles rolled back onto his side, his chest now pressed against Derek's. Who, he noted, didn't shift away from how close they now were. Sharing the same air. Every ounce of strength he had to keep space between them evaporated when Derek's fingers tucked under his chin. He leaned in slowly, giving the elder teen every opportunity to stop him.
Instead, he was pleasantly surprised when Derek pitched forward to meet him in a slow kiss. The rough feeling of the elder teen's beard was in stark contrast to his soft lips. Lips that melted against his as though they'd been pressed there a hundred times. Stiles tucked himself closer as Derek's hand shifted around to the back of his head, fingers slipping into his hair again.
What started as something akin to hesitantly testing the waters rapidly morphed into hunger and desire when Derek's arms wrapped around him, closing the little space that had remained between them. Their lips moved bruisingly against each other. It was intoxicating. Everything from the way Derek gripped into his shirt to hold him to the feel of his tongue dancing across Stiles' lips. Even the taste of his mouth sent a thrill through him that he was sure he'd never get enough of.
He clung to Derek like a lifeline, his leg slung over the guy's waist in an effort to ensure he didn't pull away -though he would never stop him if he wanted to. Part of him wondered if he was dreaming but even his fantasies weren't this good, or this vivid. His arms had been tucked between their chests but he let one slide upward to run his fingers through the coarse hair on his face. The action ignited something in Derek because his grip tightened, kissing him with a want. Naturally, Stiles did it again hoping to elicit the same reaction. Except this time Derek rolled them, positioning himself over Stiles as their tongues battled for dominance.
Stiles sucked in a sharp breath when Derek broke the kiss to regain what oxygen had been lost when he'd forgotten the simple task of breathing. Something that slipped his mind again when Derek's mouth trailed along his jaw and pressed against his throat which sent heat pooling into his stomach. His fingers tangled in Derek's hair as the elder teen nipped at his throat with sharper-than-human teeth before finding his lips once more. A clash of lips, tongues, and teeth that set him on edge in all the best ways.
Derek braced his weight on one arm, the other hand drifted to Stiles' hip, pressing him back into the bed when he'd arched up against him. It was entirely involuntary, Stiles had lost himself so deeply in their heated kiss that he was reacting on instinct alone. The pout that formed when Derek pulled back was also out of his control. Both were panting but Derek grinned when he saw the look on Stiles' face.
For a while they just stared at one another as their breathing and heart rates slowed to normal, Stiles refused to remove his hands from Derek's hair and cheek the whole time. A cocky smirk, reminiscent of one Jackson would flash, formed on the elder male's lips, "still want me to go?"
It was Stiles' turn to roll his eyes in a way that said Derek was an idiot. "No."
The smile that lit up Derek's face was enough to make his stomach somersault all over again. "Good, I didn't want to anyway." He leaned in to press a light kiss to Stiles' lips, then pulled away in order to flop onto his side next to him. His hand remained on Stiles' hip, though.
Not wanting to lose that contact, Stiles rolled and rested his hand on that bearded cheek, fingers gently combing through it. Silence fell between them once more before his eyes narrowed. "You know… you can't just kiss me to avoid answering a question."
Derek sighed, though there was a smile on his lips. "And what question was that? You ask a lot of them."
Despite the guy's amusement, Stiles was serious. "Why were you avoiding me?"
The humor slipped away from his expression, lips pursed as he traced his fingers over Stiles' hip idly. "Malia…" Derek looked at a space over his shoulder, "She really likes you and I… I thought maybe you liked her since you didn't really tell her 'no'. I don't know, I thought maybe I was getting too close to you, that I was letting myself get attached when I shouldn't. I thought maybe I was crazy for liking you, especially when I heard about all the girls flirting with you and trying to get your attention. What?" He asked when his gaze shifted back to see a grin on Stiles' lips.
He knew he shouldn't laugh, but was unable to stop the one that escaped. "Hold on. Let me get this straight. You were jealous that Malia asked me out?"
"No." It was said so defensively that Stiles laughed again.
"Oh, my god, you were!" His grin widened when Derek only rolled his eyes and looked away in defense. "Hey, I thought I was just letting her down easy. I tried to talk to her." Stiles cradled Derek's cheek and turned his gaze back, "Besides, I haven't paid attention to anyone but you in a while, big guy."
Surprise colored his features, along with a faint flush, before shaking his head. "No wonder Jackson kept pressing me to just tell you."
"Hold on! Backtrack that by about three steps!" Stiles sat up suddenly, scowling. "Jackson knew you liked me?"
Derek chuckled and shrugged, "pretty sure half the pack knew."
"I'm gonna kill them. All of them." He huffed in exasperation. They all knew and no one could clue either of them in?! Meanwhile, he and Derek had been oblivious for gods knew how long! Assholes!
"Why?" Derek was laughing now.
He threw his arms up, then let them flop back into his lap. "Because we could have been doing this for.. when did you know?"
This caused the elder teen to pause a moment, biting his lower lip. "The night you were bitten.."
"That was almost 6 months ago!" His voice pitched higher in surprise. "You mean to tell me that they knew, they knew for this long and couldn't tell us we were idiots?! Instead, they just kept telling us to talk to each other. They're all dead to me." He huffed again, though any potential animosity he felt toward his friends was easily abated by the grin that sat on Derek's lips.
Derek wrapped both arms around him again and tugged him to lay back down. "When did you know?" He asked when Stiles faced him again.
"I knew I liked you right about the same time. Honestly, I thought you just tolerated me. Didn't think I stood a chance in hell with you."
Derek laughed quietly, "maybe we are idiots."
"Speak for yourself, Der, I'm brilliant." Stiles shrugged nonchalantly and laughed again.
The elder teen shook his head, then shifted closer. No further prompting was needed on his part as Stiles closed the distance between them and kissed him again. The hand that sat on his hip slid up and under his shirt. It left goosebumps in its wake from the sheer heat that always radiated off of Derek, the other gripped into the back of his shirt to hold him tighter.
Stiles pressed closer, sliding his fingers into Derek's hair once more. He marveled at how silky it felt under the callouses that had formed on his fingers from months of working on the pack house. Derek nipped at his lower lip before kissing him harder, drawing him nearer so there was barely breathing room between them.
All Stiles could hear was their heavy breaths, the smack of their lips, and the thundering of his heartbeat pulsing past his eardrums. If he'd thought that just having Derek snuggling against him was one of the best things in the world, he was wrong. This, right here and now, was better than anything he ever could have imagined. The feeling of Derek's rough fingers tracing up his side, nails grazing over his skin, sent chills through him. The scent of cinnamon and leather and heat. Derek even tasted faintly of cinnamon. For all of half of second, he wondered if that was the flavor of the guy's toothpaste.
He slung his leg over Derek's waist, wiggling the arm that was pinned between them in an effort to wrap it around him. The elder teen laughed softly against his mouth, then shifted his weight to roll them, once more lying on top of him. Stiles liked this much better. Just as Derek had done, he slipped his hand under the other's shirt. The only difference was that Stiles was pushing it up toward Derek's shoulders.
Taking the hint, Derek sat back on his knees and pulled it over his head. Stiles took the moment to drink in the sight before him. Derek was nothing but hard lines of muscle and by god it was beautiful. With a grin forming he sat up and kissed him, tugging Derek firmly into his lap. His hands moved of their own accord, one gripped into Derek's hair, the other tracing over every inch of skin he could touch.
The air around them was scented with sweet heat, arousal, and affection all mingling together which only spurned the both of them on. Derek broke away only long enough to drag Stiles' shirt over his head before his lips were on the moles on his shoulder. He trailed open-mouthed kisses to his throat where he sucked a mark that would vanish long before morning. Stiles couldn't stop the sound it dragged out of him, or the way his fingers clenched into Derek's jeans.
Suddenly, Derek froze. He muttered a curse and sat up straight just before Stiles' door opened. Noah was doing his nightly check-in. "What the hell?" They'd been so lost in one another that they hadn't heard him pull up, enter the house, or come up the stairs.
Stiles murmured a curse of his own, then leaned around Derek to look at his father with as innocent of a smile as he could muster. "Heeeeey, Dad."
Noah brought a hand up to scrub over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Downstairs. Now. Both of you." He heaved an exhausted sigh while turning on heel to head back down the stairs, leaving the door open behind him. Which left little room for argument.
Derek still hadn't moved, he only stared down at Stiles with wide eyes. Stiles snorted a laugh at the look on his face. "Oops."
"How bad is this going to be?" Derek asked with a glance toward the window as though he was debating launching himself out of it.
"Scale of lecture to grounding?" Stiles grinned and tapped Derek's hip to get him moving.
Derek stood, though didn't move much more than that. "Scale of lecture to dead."
"He's not going to shoot you, geez. Besides, you'd heal." He teased while looking for where Derek had thrown his shirt.
"Not the point, Stiles. You're seventeen." He said and pulled his own shirt on.
"For four-ish more months. Geez, Der, you're nineteen, not forty." He rolled his eyes, laughing. Giving up on finding where his shirt went, he snagged another from his dresser and then grabbed Derek's arm. "Come on. No point running. He knows where you live." Because he could still see the 'flight' response in Derek's eyes when the guy looked at the window again. The elder teen heaved a sigh and entwined his fingers with Stiles' for support.
For all his joking, Stiles had the sense to at least look worried when he entered the living room where his father paced. The moment they stepped across the threshold Noah glanced at their joined hands, then pointed to the sofa. "Sit." He waited until they had then resumed his pacing. Stiles tracked him with his eyes but said nothing. He knew it was better to wait. Overall, his father didn't look angry, not really. It took several more minutes before Noah inhaled a breath and looked at Derek. "Remind me how old you are, son?"
"Nineteen, sir." To his credit, Derek kept his gaze leveled on the sheriff. Stiles could hear his heart thundering and squeezed his hand between them.
"You know that he is still a minor, correct?" Noah pointed at his son.
Before Derek could respond Stiles spoke up. "For four months, Dad. Besides, we weren't doing anything."
The sheriff turned a scowl onto Stiles, "that's not the way it looked, Stiles."
"So, I can't date? I can't have a boyfriend?"
"That's not what I said. I just… it's my job to protect you."
"Dad." Stiles hadn't needed his father's protection in years, long before he'd been bitten. He wouldn't argue that point, though. "Seriously, it was just a kiss." A very heated one, sure. But he knew that no matter how much he liked Derek he wouldn't have let it go further than that. Not that soon, anyway. There was still a lot for them to talk about before he'd consider it.
"If I hadn't walked in, is that all it would have been?" His brows rose, a doubtful expression on his face. Then he waved a hand, "I don't wanna know. Stiles, we don't need to have the safe-sex talk again, do we?"
Stiles balked and knew he'd flushed crimson. "No, Dad!"
Noah nodded and looked toward the kitchen. "Good. Go to bed, Stiles. Mr. Hale and I need to have a chat."
Obedience had never been something that anyone had sung his praises for. Just as they wouldn't now. "Anything you have to say to Derek, you can say in front of me."
"Bed, Stiles."
Stiles released Derek's hand to cross his arms defiantly. He knew he was being petulant. Knowing it and doing anything else was a different matter entirely. His father sighed in an aggrieved manner. "It's not like it matters, I'll hear everything you say to him anyway." Derek murmured his name and when he glanced at the guy it was to see him giving a look that said 'are you sure you want to do this now'.
"I swear to God, Stiles: if you plan to sit on the stairs and listen–"
Shrugging at Derek's expression, Stiles turned back to the Sheriff. He cut his father off, something he rarely ever did. "I can sit in my room and hear every word with perfect clarity."
To his surprise, rather than further irritation crossing Noah's features, he paled while glancing between his son and Derek. The sheriff didn't speak for a long time, the color draining all the more from his face as he appeared to be in shock. Neither teen said anything, nor moved. Finally, Noah sank into his recliner. "How long?"
It was his turn to be confused because there was no way his father knew. Stiles shot a quick glance in Derek's direction before turning back to his father. "Since?"
"Since you were bitten." He sighed in resignation, suddenly looking twenty years older.