Burning Slowly

Chapter 29

Derek looked at Stiles as daylight faded around them. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't very good with words. Stiles was the one who was good with them. Stiles could tell stories, could make you see them with his gestures and the passion in his voice. Derek couldn't speak the same language Stiles was so fluent in. He didn't have a way to let people know what he was thinking that easily. All he could do was try to show Stiles, show him and hope that he understood.

Derek pulled the seashell he'd taken from their room out of his pocket and held it out, held his breath also as Stiles walked closer to him. Stiles took it out of his hand. Derek was afraid he would never get to touch it again. He was terrified that Stiles would take it back and then leave.

"There are better looking ones out there I bet. Ones you've probably never seen," Stiles said.

"I don't want them, I like that one." Derek resisted the urge to reach out and touch Stiles's hand. He hadn't been forgiven yet, he had no right to touch.

"What makes it special?" Stiles tilted his head curiously. He took a step closer. "Why that one?"

"It's different than the others." Derek looked away when Stiles stepped even closer and looked up at him. Derek couldn't meet that gaze, was afraid of what Stiles would find if he looked too closely. He closed his eyes to hide them.

"How is it different, Derek?"

"It's gone through a lot. It almost broke, but it was strong enough that it didn't fall apart completely." Derek felt Stiles grasp the hand he'd let fall to his side. He hadn't realized he was clenching his fingers until Stiles opened them up one by one. Derek opened his eyes. Stiles put the shell back in his hand. Even in what little daylight remained Derek could see the fine cracks running through it, could see where the surface was stained red slightly on its jagged edges.

"It's stronger than it looks," Stiles told him. He stood up straighter, as if daring Derek to argue.

Derek didn't argue he just nodded. His hand shook as Stiles closed his fingers back over it one at a time. He took a shaky breath and looked back into those brown eyes that saw too much, that knew too many secrets.

"I just wanted to make sure nothing else happened to it," Derek confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"If you find something valuable and you hit it form everyone, if you don't share it, then what good is it?" Stiles's heartbeat was as steady as his eyes. Derek would have thought it'd be a rapid pulsing, but there was no nervous energy in Stiles. He was completely focused.

"I don't know... I don't know what I'm doing." Derek was shaking and he wasn't sure if it was from the fatigue of running across the city, or if it was something else. He shivered when he felt soft hands on his neck pulling his head forward. He didn't open his eyes when he felt Stiles press their foreheads together.

"Being with someone, trusting them, I don't think it's about always knowing what you're doing. You have to sort of just feel it out as it goes," Stiles said. "It's like poetry you write together by living in each other's space, using how you feel to find the right rhythm."

Derek felt tears run down his cheeks, he wished that he was like that, could just say whatever came into his mind and be so easily understood. "I'm sorry," he said, it was all he could manage. He hoped it would be enough.

"Open your eyes," Stiles said. "I want you to see this with me. I don't want to watch it alone again."

Derek opened his eyes and looked in the direction that Stiles was looking. The sun was almost fully down. The last moments of the sunset spread out over the ocean. Derek wished he could see what Stiles was seeing; he imagined that to him it looked like something else entirely. Derek thought that maybe Stiles saw everything in a way that no one else could, like there was so much magic and wonder in the world that it would tear him apart if he wasn't careful, fill his heart up and break it open.

Derek didn't know how to say any of that though, so he placed a soft kiss on Stiles's cheek, let himself be drawn down into the sand. He was exhausted and trembling. He stretched out and put his head on Stiles's leg. He thought that maybe even if he couldn't see what Stiles saw, if he was there with him then it would be enough. Stiles watched the sunset and stroked his hair with warm hands. Derek watched Stiles's face, he looked happy. It was better than the sunset.

"Can we just stay here tonight?" Derek didn't think he had the energy to walk back to the house. He wanted to just rest, to curl up with Stiles in the warm sand and not have to think anymore.

"Yeah," Stiles said. He moved his leg out from under Derek's head. Once they were settled against each other Stiles was cradling Derek's head against his chest.

Maybe it would be enough if he was just there, even if he couldn't tell Stiles what every single thing that happened to them meant to him. He'd do it the best he could, in his own way. He tightened his arms around Stiles's body.

He'd be there for the sunrises and the sunsets, for the games, for the tears, and for the laughter. He thought that would be enough, and if it wasn't, he imagined that Stiles would tell him, because that's what he was good at doing. If Stiles ended up talking too much then Derek would find a way to quiet him down, because that's what Derek found out he was good at doing. In that way, maybe they could find a balance.

"Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"When we wake up tomorrow, you're going to make me breakfast, okay?"

"Okay."

"And Derek?" Stiles was relentless.

Derek huffed out a breath against Stiles's neck; he was going to have to find out if he really was good at getting Stiles to be quiet sooner than he thought. "Yeah?"

"After breakfast..."

"Yeah?"

"You're going to wash all this sand off me in our shower, okay?"

Derek didn't say anything. He smiled against Stiles's skin and placed another gentle kiss on his neck. The memory of Stiles shrouded in steam from that morning was still fresh in his mind, it probably always would be. Stiles would get that shower, but he wasn't sure how much washing they were going to be doing. He had better things in mind.

"Stiles?" Derek figured he should be allowed to make plans for them too.

Stiles chuckled, the movement vibrating Derek's head. "Yeah?"

"Before I make you breakfast, I want to watch you watch the sunrise."

"You're weird, but okay," Stiles said.

Derek felt another soft kiss brush his hair, let his strained muscles relax, and for the first time in a long time, felt content as he fell asleep.