Holding On to You

Chapter 9

          Morning light casted transparent shadows into Stiles' bedroom, the throbbing heat of newborn sun lifting Derek from his sunken daze. He didn't remember much from last night, afterwards anyway, and was rather surprised to feel Stiles in his arms. He glanced at the boy's sleeping face, arm not unwrapping itself from his waist. They were both still bare, Stiles' sheets covering their retained contact from the rest of the world. It was so secluded- soothing as Derek's fingers trailed down the side of Stiles' arm. As of this moment, and probably never again, he was holding on to the boy and he couldn't bear to let go.

          Stiles began to stir, Derek panicking internally because there was so much he wanted to say- so much that he knew he never would. The boy turned his head, weary and appearingly incoherent eyes gazing up at Derek. The wolf could not discern what he was thinking- could not even pick up a scent other than what they did last night. As much as he told himself he should, Derek still did not let go.

Neither said anything for a moment, Stiles deciding he would choke out a greeting, "Hey." said the boy somewhat uncomfortably. He was a bit off-putten, not expecting Derek to stay the whole night. Surprisingly, Stiles couldn't claim to mind.

Derek uttered back much more shyly, "Hey."

          Stiles took a minute, discerning whether this could be any more awkward. Derek's arm was still wrapped around him too, which Stiles didn't necessarily have a problem with. It was warm and safe; something the boy was rarely exposed to these days.

Derek sighed, seeming to realize what Stiles' consciousness brought forth, "I-I guess I should get going."

          Stiles didn't want that, but wasn't sure the best way to get Derek to stay. Sitting up, the wolf scanned the area near him, looking for any article of clothing he found himself rid of last night. Spotting his jeans, Derek got to his feet, slipping them on unknowingly as Stiles watched. It was odd, to say the least, that he could go from hating Derek and focally begging him to stay in just one night. Stiles thought it was obvious, but guessed Derek was to overwhelmed in his doubts that he couldn't see past them and into Stiles want for him.

Stiles cleared his throat, uttering almost under his breath, "So, you're just gonna leave?"

Derek swallowed, hope sparking within his suspectedly cold heart, "I thought you'd want me to."

Stiles wasn't sure what he did to give off that assumption, especially not of anything concerning last night, but contradicted Derek anyway, "I-I don't."

"Stiles, you don't have to do that." Derek's head faced the floor, insecurities shown past what Stiles could see before, "You've done enough for me already."

Stiles shrugged nonchalantly, however, nerves rattled within him, "I didn't do that much." he pointed out honestly, remembering Derek's movement as he was held still.

Derek's thoughts found themselves there as well, but reverted his mind to what it meant, "You saved my life." he said softly, tone seeming to imply that no matter what he did, Derek could never repay Stiles for the previous night.

The boy's lips curved slightly, seeming to require no reimbursements for the deed. It then exceeded to a full smile, eyes filling with a welcome glimmer, "It's not like it was all bad for me." he tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment, "Not bad at all, actually."

Derek pressed his lips together, "That's good to hear." he turned back toward Stiles, smirk evident in its nonexistence.

He scooted to the end of the bed, sheet remaining over his lap, "Tell me something."