Sterek One Shots (boyxboy)

You'll Grow Into Your Skin

You'll Grow Into Your Skin by crossroadswrite
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"You're leaving."

Derek freezes from where he'd been meticulously folding all of his clothing into a suitcase. There's not that much to fold, he hasn't had the habit of hoarding personal effects since his house burned down and he lost everything he ever owned or cared about.

"Yes," it wasn't a question but Derek answers it anyway, avoiding Stiles' eyes as they track his every movement.

Stiles sees him and not a lot of people do. Mostly what they see when they look at Derek is the pretty face, the aggression, the monster. Stiles sees beyond that.

"Why?"

"You know why."

Stiles steps further into the loft, footsteps heavy and dragging. He can hear Cora stealthily jumping out of the top floor's room's window to give them some privacy.

"Have you even asked them what they want?"

"I almost got them killed, Stiles. They don't want to hear what I have to say. They don't want me near them and that's for the best."

"You're a moron."

Stiles climbs on Derek's bed like he's already made a habit out of it, sitting cross-legged and intently watching his movements.

No one ever gives Stiles enough credit for how much he sees. Derek certainly didn't at first, but he knows better now.

"If you asked, they would."

Derek nods, acknowledging the words. He won't follow through them. Erica and Boyd are better off here, under Scott's clumsily black and white leadership than with him, wherever he's going to go.

"I'm not their Alpha anymore. I'm not even an Alpha."

"You're a moron," Stiles restates. It has become a little bit of a thing. When Derek says something idiotic Stiles will point it out. He won't argue with Derek. It's not even that they grew out of arguing, it's just that in some cases Stiles has learned how to yield.

He stops folding another of his Henleys. The red one he loves with the thumb holes.

"I'm not good for them."

"That's your opinion."

"That's their opinion too. The only reason Deucalion got to them was because I couldn't be a good Alpha."

"You were never made to be Alpha," Stiles reminds him.

"I wasn't."

"But you could learn how to. You could help Scott learn how to."

Stiles isn't looking at him anymore, eyes trained on the soft fabric between Derek's hands. Derek feels like this is going to be a big declarations talk. So he starts it with a big declaration.

"Scott doesn't want me to. He doesn't trust me."

He throws the Henley at Stiles, watches for a second as he fumbles with it, eyes wide when he realizes.

"You trust too much," Stiles returns, says it like he's spewing off facts just before a big test. Things he knows without a doubt.

Derek grabs his next Henley and starts folding it, shoves it in the suitcase.

There's a beat of silence between them and Derek feels like he should say something.

"I would," he says quietly, "if you asked."

Stiles gives him this little rueful defeated smile.

"I know." Another fact.

It would be as simple as that. Stiles saying one single word and he'd drop everything and stay.