Changing Patterns

• 18 •

"Talking"  'Thinking...
Important
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    When stiles didn't come to breakfast the next morning Derek almost broke the plate beneath the pancakes and bacon Allison had made. Placing one large pancake and two bacon slices on the round porcelain before spreading butter over the pancake and snatching the syrup from under Jackson's approaching hand after tossing a fork a top his supposed new plate, despite his still three half eaten pancakes in his own plate. Derek started to March up the stairs surprisingly silent.

    "You know if that was a bottle of whiskey id feel that was a more Derek thing to do." Jackson remarked annoyed as his alpha disappeared.

    "Yeah but, he's got like pancakes and syrup instead." Lydia snickered along. Cora laughing along until the smirk on her uncles lips paused her.

    "Mm- no. What did you do?" She snapped across the table at him.

    "Absolutely nothing." He answered unfazed. "I've just realized something before dear nephew has." With that Peter snickered off to his den like bedroom at the back of the house.

    Derek ignored the conversation down stairs with him as their topic. Completely forgetting the pack and striding up the stairs, turning left and starting down the hall. Stopping directly in-front of Stiles's door before tapping his knuckles lightly against the wood, waiting for an answer that didn't come. Instead Derek twisted the burning door nob open and hissed at his already healing hand. Catching a sleeping stiles in a long red sweater and black boxers that could barely be seen over the tossed blankets that tangle his legs. Derek crept forward silently and let his face soften, what was it about stiles that forced him to feel so different.

    His chest squeezed when the younger man shifted at the creek of the floor. Derek's lips twitching up slightly as he reached the bed and layer down the plate of food and stray bottle of syrup. Placing a steady hand on the bed to feel for any sprawled limbs before sitting in the edge and easily move if a hand to Stiles's arm. His thumb brushed lightly over the humans bicep as he stored awake with a crazed start. His eyes hanging worriedly and hands farting to push away whatever was touching him. Settling and instantly slumping in calmness as his eyes fell on Derek. The man forced his normal stoak face and watched as stiles pieced together his presence.

    "Derek..." he mumbled lightly, the werewolf not taking a second to hesitate when he should have when reaching to brush hair from the younger's face.

    "Mhm." He grudges pulling back. What was it with stiles Stalinski who seemed like someone to not hesitate for? "You didn't eat dinner." Derek gestured to the plate on the nightstand. "Just a little... please?"  Stiles's eyes follow to the plate then snap back wide at Derek.

    "Please~" he sang, know awake. "Is Derek Hale using mannose know?" His tone is playful but Derek just drops his eyes dead and stares. Stiles rolls his eyes and let's his smirk soften to a smaller more thankful looking one.

    Derek say and watched as stiles picked up a piece of bacon and chewed on the end as he deranged his legs from the sheets. Then throwing them over the edge as Derek moved to get up and, presumably, leave. Instead he stopped, hand on either side of his body as he stared down. Stiles shifted not noticing Derek's fixed stare on his bare thigh, as he finished off the first bacon and reached for the second. Flinching, his leg even flinching, as Derek's fingers met skin and the humans head snapped over. Locking on the large bruise cascading over his thigh in a green-yellow with Derek's fingers tracing upward to push at the red fabric of his jacket. Derek's eyes looked up to meet Stiles's own.