The Hell You Came From [Derek/FemStiles]

Naked Man

Stiles unlocks her front door and pushes it open.

She sighs deeply; tiredly, but is, at least, happy to see that everything is the way she left it. She still feels a little shaken up by the creepy old man. But for the moment, she pushes all other emotions and thoughts aside.

Stiles smiles softly to herself when she feels Derek’s cold wet nose nudging at her left hand.

She looks down at him after pulling her smile back. Instead, she folds her arms over her chest, shoots him a scolding look and tells him, “You’re not off the hook yet, Mister.”

Derek’s ears slowly droop, his head dipping. But his eyes never leave her. He still feels like a piece of shit for lying to her. But something in her tone makes him feel like she’s already forgiven him.

Stiles unfolds her arms and gently ushers him in before shutting and locking her front door up again. “Come on.” She says, motioning for him to follow her.

Derek does so, almost instinctively, by this point. He trots eagerly after her as he listens to her telling him, “I don’t think my dad’s or Scott’s clothes will fit you, but I kept the maternity pants my mom wore while she was pregnant with me–they should do OK until...well...”

Stiles clears her throat, quickly cuts herself off. She may be slightly pissed at him, but she still doesn’t think she can bare to let him go.

God, I knew there was just something about that wolf...

Derek senses her anxiety. Though, he fights real hard to keep his distance (for her sake only.) He wishes he could just ask her what’s wrong and comfort her. But he also knows when not to push too far.

Scott was right about one thing–Stiles has been through enough.

And Derek doesn’t know what exactly she’s been through. But he knows a delicate soul when he meets one.

Derek himself used to be that delicate soul.

Until the monsters found him and tried to make him a monster, too...

Stiles leaves her bedroom door open and moves to her closet to fish out the cardboard box of her mother’s belongings. She can feel his eyes on her, heating her up from the inside out.

As she grabs her mother’s Betty Boop maternity pants, Stiles hears the unmistakable sound of flesh loudly tearing, followed by the usual smooth sound of flesh knitting back together just as instantly.

Stiles stands and turns and almost lets her mother’s pants slip from her grasp when she sees Derek standing on his two human feet...underneath all that sinewy flesh.

Stiles feels herself instantly heating up again.

Derek fights an amused smile at her wide eyed look. He can tell she’s trying real hard not to look down. And even though both his hands are hiding his junk, he still can’t help flushing a little, too.

“Sorry.” Derek smiles sheepishly, “I would go use your yard hose, but it’s still daylight outside, and I don’t want Mrs. Doepeck calling the cops on you for a strange naked man covered in blood lurking outside your house...”

Stiles can’t help crack a small smile at his words (and that adorable little half smirk.)

Derek curiously watches as she turns back to her closet and smiles softly when she turns back to present him with a clean towel.

“Go shower.” Stiles tells him, “I’ll leave these here.” She places the towel and her mother’s pants down on the end of her bed. “I’ll be in the kitchen. You want a coffee, or a beer, or something?”

“A beer sounds real good.” Derek breathes out a chuckle.

(Without Stiles, he can’t remember the last time he had clean water, let alone a beer.)

Stiles frowns slightly, her chest doing that horrible aching thing it does whenever she thinks about what he could have gone through before she met him.

(Getting run over by her and shot twice by a crazy old man is already enough for her! Not to mention the bullet wound he already had upon their meeting!)

“OK.” Stiles simply leaves her thoughts where they are for the moment. She smiles lightly and nods before leaving him to his shower.

Don’t–too late–already thinking about him in my damn shower now...