True Mate » Sterek

Chapter 12

The next week is filled with whirling thoughts and avoiding Derek. Stiles needs time to think things through, so he latches his window and ignores the light tapping on the glass every night. Sometimes Stiles can't fall asleep after knowing Derek is there, and just listens for his feet to hit ground, meaning he's finally gone. Sometimes Derek sits on the roof for hours, listening to Stiles heartbeat, whether it's steady or pounding. The werewolf could easily use a claw to unlatch the lock, and Stiles is grateful that Derek respects that he doesn't want to be bothered.

Stiles grabs the bundled shirt on the floor and smells it, sighing at the faded scent. It's been too long, now it's just a piece of cloth. 

He lays restless in bed for hours, missing the one person he's avoiding. The one night Derek doesn't come to his window is the night Stiles wants to let him in. Finally he caves. Stiles doesn't bother to grab a hoodie, just his keys and phone as he sneaks from the house.

The entire way there he contemplates turning around, but doesn't find the willpower to do so. He also regrets not putting something more on than what he was already wearing, the chilly night making Stiles' skin crawl with goosebumps.

With Derek being some sort of supernatural heater, his loft doesn't offer the cold teen any relief. He knows Derek either heard or smelled him before even entering the apartment, but he doesn't give any indication to say so.

Stiles pushes open his bedroom door, not saying a word, and crawls into bed. He snuggles closer to Derek's warm skin, placing his head on the males bare chest. Derek wraps an arm around him and uses the other to cover the icy boy with his blanket. He wants to smile because Stiles is here, he right here with him, but Derek knows something is still off. He just holds Stiles tighter and lets momentary relief wash over him, he'll actually get some sleep tonight. They both breath in the scent of one another, letting their eyes fall closed.

Rest at last.

***

Stiles wakes to a warmth that almost puts him back to sleep. He's not used to waking up and Derek still being there, and as much as he wants to regret coming here last night, he only finds himself glad. Sleep seemed to be escaping him these past days, and to get a full nights rest is something he's been craving more so than Derek, he just happened to find it with him.

He sighs, knowing he's definitely late for school at this point. He tries to get up but the grip around him tightens. "Please don't go." The sentence almost breaks his heart, the desperation in Derek's voice, it's not something he's heard before. "I have to," Stiles says against everything in his mind screaming to stay. Derek let's go and rolls onto his side. "Walk me out?"

Derek does, just while avoiding any type of eye contact. He stands with his arms crossed in his living room, watching Stiles walk away. Stiles sends one glance over his shoulder and his met with defeated eyes, that quickly advert to the floor.

Stiles mutters under his breath and turns around, walking quickly to where the other male is standing. He throws his arms around Derek's neck and has an overwhelming need to cry for some reason. Derek squeezes back just as tight, if not tighter. "You're a sour-wolf and I hate you," Stiles says. "I know."

"But I don't hate you, you're still a sour-wolf though." Derek smiles faintly and agrees again, "I know." Stiles pulls away but Derek keeps his hold, like Stiles is going to float away if he does. He uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear, stroking the side of Stiles' face, who pouts adorably.

Derek gets this serious look, his hand now cupping Stiles' cheek. "You're mine...and I'm yours. Is that good enough for a label?" Stiles can't help but grin like and idiot. "You're such a sap. Now kiss me before I—" his empty threat his cut off by eager lips, met for a passionate kiss, letting the other know how much they missed each other without having to say it.

"You know," Stiles mumbles between their two mouths, "You're almost naked." Derek hums back a response and bundles his fists into Stiles shirt, wishing it wasn't himself that's half naked.

Derek groans irritably when Stiles phone begins ringing. "Let me just.." he goes to decline the call but hesitates. "It's Scott," he sighs.

Thought Stiles turns away to answer the call, Derek presses himself against Stiles back and wraps his arms around him, chin resting on the teens shoulder. Hm, ignore Derek for a week and he becomes affectionate. Good to know.

"Hey, Scottie."

"Hey, where the hell are you?"

Derek grins slyly and kisses Stiles jaw, making him roll his eyes playfully. "I'm busy, just tell couch I'll be at practice, okay?"

"Busy? Stiles, you know hanging out with Malia isn't an excuse for missing school," Scott says like a parent. Derek growls internally at the name, knowing if he did it out loud Scott would hear him. "Dude, definitely not what I'm doing," he glances back at Derek, "Trust me, very, very far what what I'm doing. Besides, Malia always skips days when we have a math test."

"Fine, but you better be at practice. I've gotta go, third hour is about to start." Stiles hangs up with a shrug and overlaps his arms with Derek's.

"I know what you're thinking and to put your paranoid werewolf nerves at ease, Malia is just a friend," Stiles chuckles, leaning against the body behind him. Derek grumbles under his breath, because is he really that obvious? "Good, cause you're mine," Derek murmurs quietly, hugging Stiles tighter. "As long as you don't pee on me to mark your territory, I'm more than okay with that." He scowls down at the teenager, making Stiles smirk.

Stiles sighs contently and tips his head back, allowing the sour-wolf to plant a quick kiss onto his lips.

"As much as I'd hate to say it, I have to go home and shower before practice." Derek frowns, "Shower here." Stiles tilts his head to the side, mischief glimmering in his brown eyes. He tosses his shirt to the floor, slipping out of his pajama pants seconds later, leaving Derek to clench his jaw in anticipation.

Stiles puts only inches of space between the two of them, his eyes slowly raking up Derek's defined tan skin. His finger snaps the hem of Derek's black briefs, sending shivers up his body. "You're going to join me, aren't you?" Stiles watches Derek's eyes flash red and then fog over. "Definitely."

"Great." Stiles stalks toward the bathroom, giving Derek a nice view of his ass as he stands almost dumbfounded. Stiles isn't usually bold or courageous, but the look Derek gives him makes him that way.

They stand in the bathroom, the hot water already steaming up the confined space. Derek takes back his dominate position, taking a handful of Stiles ass and squeezing it before pulling down his boxers in a swift movement. Stiles isn't as generous. Instead, he uses one hand to teasingly slip his hand in and slowly drag down Derek's undergarments, painfully so. But once they're off, he chews on his bottom lip, definitely not staring into those sea blue eyes.

They're going to get more dirty in this shower than clean.