True Mate » Sterek

Chapter 8

After missing a day of school to stay with Derek, Stiles finds himself buried in homework. He feels uneasy leaving the wolf by himself after what happened with Boyd, even if he acts like he's okay, you don't have to be a werewolf to pick up on his grieving. And just because he says he wants to be alone, he doesn't, not really. All of this concern just gets in the way of focusing on his homework, his math book open with a blank sheet of paper filling the page.

Stiles taps the eraser of his pencil anxiously against the metal bleachers he's sitting on. Scott interrupts his circling thoughts as he plops down next to him, also waiting for lacrosse practice to start.

"Hey, about the other day," Scott starts, wanting to apologize again. Stiles takes his eyes from the field, staring back at his best friend with a shake of his head. "Derek's on our side, Scott," Stiles tells him seriously. Even if they weren't whatever they are, Stiles would still stick up for him. Derek hasn't always been a team player, and he hasn't always been a great person, but he's always protected Stiles and Scott, whether Scott believes it or not. "Is he, Stiles? Don't get me wrong, I turn to Derek for help and I don't want to find him dead...but if it honestly came down to it, would he put your life over his?" Scott asks, like it's an actual question. "Yes," he answers without a moment of hesitation, "Do you remember when he saved your life and got captured by the Argents? I sure as hell do." Stiles stares intensely at Scott, waiting for another invalid argument he can shoot down.

Coach blows the whistle, breaking the twos staring contest. Stiles sighs heavily and throws his school books back into his bag, along with his phone.

Practice drags on for hours, coach making the team redo every little thing until it's perfect. With a game at the end of the week, he pushes the players harder than normal. When they're finally dismissed from the field, the sun is an hour from setting and they've all missed dinner.

"I'm starving," someone complains from inside the locker room. There are murmurs of agreement as everyone changes back into their normal clothes. Plans start being thrown around to go out and get something to eat together, so everyone can collectively complain about coach.

Stiles finishes getting dressed and grabs his phone from under everything else, swiping the screen on.

Missed calls from Derek (4)

His eyes widen and he quickly presses the green button, but he's sent straight to voicemail. He mutters under his breath and starts to type out a long worded message.

"You in, Stiles?" Danny asks, leaning against the locker next to him. Scott glances over at them after pulling his shirt down, questioning Danny's sudden interest in Stiles. "Uh, I can't really, lot of homework," he explains, which wouldn't be a lie if he wasn't planning to drive over to Derek's now. "Maybe next time," Danny smiles.

The teen throws everything into his Jeep and drives right to Derek's loft, but his car isn't there. He figures going up to check won't hurt, but the apartment is Derek free. With a sigh, Stiles drives to the old Hale house, maybe there's a reason for him to be there. That, and it's the only other place he can think of.

Stiles stands in the middle of the woods, spinning in a cautious circle. He presses the phone to his ear in another attempt to get ahold of him, but he's sent to voicemail again. "You know, it's common courtesy to answer your damn phone when someone's worried sick about you. Derek I swear to god if you—arg! Just call me back, okay? So I know you're not dead in a ditch somewhere." Stiles squeezes the phone in his hand, knuckles white. He has no where left to check.

With great reluctance, the teen drives home. He's exhausted and just needs some rest, he'll try for Derek again tomorrow, maybe he really does just need some space. He slugs into his room and flips the light switch, jumping at the person by his window.

"You asshole!" Stiles yells quietly, yet he throws his arms around Derek and holds him there. Derek rests his head in the crook of Stiles neck, thankful that he's finally back. "I've been searching for you the past two hours," Stiles says quietly, "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"It died," he responds simply. Stiles pulls back and shakes his head. "God I hate you," he whispers. "No you don't." Derek presses his lips gently against the teens, allowing the intoxicating smell to surround him and the addicting taste of Stiles lips wash over him. That's why he had come here originally, to have that comforting scent, but it's not the same as being with Stiles. It's frustrating but as soon as their together Derek forgets how annoyed he is and realizes how much he actually wants to be there.

Derek pulls Stiles over to the bed without explanation and slips from his shirt. Stiles just raises an eyebrow. The werewolf lays down and looks at Stiles until he notices that he's just gawking at Derek. He opens his mouth to say something but is immediately cut off. "Yeah. Yeah, I know, a picture lasts longer," Stiles mumbles to himself as he shuffles over and lays down too.

"So are you going to tell me why you came here?" Stiles inquires, his ear against Derek's bare chest. "No."

"Fine, can I know why you called me?"

"No."

"Are you going to answer any of my questions?"

"No."

Stiles pauses to think for a minute, grinning at his idea. "Did you have a good time the other night?" Derek reaches over to grab Stiles hip and slides him over, so the teen is now on top of him. "I'm not a blanket, you know."

"Shut up, Stiles," Derek murmurs. Stiles smiles and pulls the comforter over them, readjusting so his head is resting on Derek's left pec.

"Goodnight, Derek." Derek lets his lips twitch up slightly, wrapping his arms securely around Stiles back.

"Night."