Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/490991.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey, Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent,
      Lydia_Martin, Sheriff_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Explicit_Sexual
      Content, Blow_Jobs, Frottage, Phone_Sex, Teacher-Student_Relationship,
      Withdrawal, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-20 Completed: 2012-08-25 Chapters: 10/10 Words: 28785
****** We Are So Intimately Rearranged ******
by secondstar
Summary
     A High School AU where there are no werewolves and no hunters. Stiles
     is getting ready for his senior year when he meets Derek at the
     coffee shop he works at.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Stiles was never a morning person. Sure, he rolled out of bed when his alarm
went off, dragged his feet on his way to the shower, and was able to brush his
teeth with the best of them, but he was not a morning person. Especially during
the summer, especially when he had to open at the coffee shop. His alarm was
set for four in the morning. His father would just be getting in from a night
shift when Stiles would come down to the kitchen, take his Adderall and chug a
glass of water. He would glare at his dad, albeit lovingly, because he had
gotten Stiles the job. His dad would smile, patting him on the back as he made
his way up to his bed, to sleep.
“The sun isn’t even out yet!” Stiles would call up, his face set in a frown.
There, of course, would be no response.
Stiles always showed up with only a few seconds to spare, with Isaac standing,
waiting with his his arms crossed.
“I’m here, I’m here.” Stiles muttered, tying his apron as he slammed the Jeep’s
door. Isaac, rolled his eyes, but had a small hint of a smile showing as he got
out the keys. Isaac got keys, Stiles didn’t. For reasons. Mostly because Stiles
lost his, once. He never got new ones.
Cleaning the shop, getting ready for the day was Stiles’ favorite part of the
day because he got to pick the music. And it got to be loud. It wasn’t so low
that he could barely hear it, it wasn’t boring enough to make him fall asleep.
It was the only reason he didn’t mind opening, didn’t mind grinding coffee
beans at the asscrack of dawn. They got in at five to open by six, which
surprisingly people actually came in, then. It blew Stiles’ mind that there
were people in Beacon Hills that were actually up and about before the sun.
Like Allison Argent.
She came in almost every morning, fresh from a run. Sweaty, her hair up in a
messy bun with her iPod still playing where it was strapped to her arm. Every
time Stiles saw her, he thought about Scott. Scott his best friend who just so
happened to have a giant crush on her since she moved to Beacon Hills the year
before. Of course, though, she immediately became friends with Lydia and
Jackson, the captain of the lacrosse team and the most popular girl in school.
Which was unfortunate since he and Scott were on the bottom of the totem pole
when it came to Beacon Hills High. Sure, he was on the lacrosse team, but he
was pretty sure the coach kept him on just so the first liners could beat him
to a pulp in practice. The same went for Scott.
“What can I get you?” Stiles asked, holding in a sigh. She always got the same
thing. Grande Tazo Chai Frappuccino, hold the cream. Still, he didn’t think she
would appreciate it if he showed her how good his memory was. It would be
creepy.
“Hmm,” She said, looking at the menu as if she didn’t know what she wanted.
Stiles raised an eyebrow, his hand holding a grande cup and the sharpie, ready
to write it. “I think I want something different.” Stiles’ shoulders slumped.
“What do you suggest?” She asked. Stiles’ jaw was open, so he closed it,
looking up at the menu that was over his head, tapping his fingers against the
counter as he scanned the list of Frappuccinos, gnawing on his bottom lip.
“Well you like Chai, which is tea... so maybe the Green Tea?” He asked, looking
back at her. She was smiling.
“You know what I get?” She asked. Stiles shrugged, gulping.
“You come in here all the time, is all,” he said, licking his lips. “If not
that then maybe the Cinnamon Dolce Creme. It’s my favorite.”
“I’ll try your favorite.” Stiles smiled at her, writing it, then ringing her
up. “Are you excited about our senior year?” She asked. Stiles laughed, shaking
his head.
“Are you kidding? Well, anything is better than junior year, right? No more
SATs.” Stiles sighed, taking his time making her drink because no one else was
in line. Also, he was talking to Allison Argent, which you know, never fucking
happened ever. Isaac was looking at him funny but he ignored him, waving his
arm awkwardly behind him as if to say ‘shut up, shut up’ because you know, that
is really fucking helpful.
“I know, but it is always exciting, new classes, new friends in classes.
Change.” Stiles tilted his head slightly, pondering what the fuck she was on
about. “What are you taking? Any AP classes?” Stiles nodded. He was, a lot of
them.
“AP Econ, AP English, AP Physics, and AP Calc,” Stiles said, sighing. He was
getting a headache just thinking about it. He laughed. “Maybe this year won’t
be easier than last year.”
“We’ll be in English together, I bet. I’m taking AP English, AP French, and AP
Enviro.” Why was she smiling at him, and why was she talking to him still? This
was some sort of twilight zone, Stiles knew it. There was no other explanation.
“Lydia will be in English with us, too.” Stiles’ ears perked up at the mention
of Lydia. He cleared his throat, handing Allison her drink.
“Lydia, great. Awesome. Maybe we could all...” he moved his hands around in a
weird circular motion. “We could study or something together.” Oh god, word
vomit was the worst thing ever and he had a bad case of it. He needed to go
find a cave and live in it until graduation. Like they would ever-
“Yeah, maybe.” She said smiling, taking a sip of her drink with her straw. She
nodded, looking at it as she licked her lips. “Your favorite drink is awesome,
Stiles.” Stiles’ eyes widened, he could feel his cheeks flush. Oh Jesus, she
needed to leave. Now.
“Th-thanks.” He managed to get out. She waved, then left.
There was no way the day could get weirder after that interaction. No way.
Of course, Stiles was completely wrong. When was he right, ever? He was never
right because that would be completely out of character for him. Try out for
lacrosse as a joke? Get on the team. Not the real team, the team that gets to
sit on the bench. The team that got tackled in practice. That was Stiles’ life
and he should really know by this point in his life that it wasn’t going to
change.
Scott always came in, whenever he got out of bed, usually somewhere between
noon and two when Stiles got off. As if on cue, right after noon, Scott walked
in. His hair was a mess and he looked like he quite literally just walked out
of bed. Stiles bit his lip, wondering if he should tell Scott about Allison,
about how she talked to him and liked his drink and said she would study with
him and oh god. He decided against it, since Scott wasn’t taking any AP
classes. Stiles didn’t want to rub it in, at all. He wouldn’t mention it. Well,
not all of it.
“Allison totally ordered something new today.” Stiles said as he made Scott’s
usual: an iced coffee with a shot of vanilla and milk.
“How many shots of espresso have you had today?” Scott asked, an eyebrow
raised. Stiles made a face at him as he handed Scott his drink.
“Two and a half.” Stiles admitted, rubbing his head. “Did you hear me?” He
asked. Scott shrugged.
“So? What does that matter?” Stiles’ brow furrowed.
“What is your problem? Usually you get all starry eyed and start drooling when
I tell you what color her shorts were or how her messy bun looked particularly
messy this morning.” Stiles took a deep breath, leaning against the counter.
“School starts Monday.”
“Ahhhhh.” Stiles said, sighing. “Make sense. Well, it won’t be too bad for you,
you know. Senior year is easier than junior.”
“And we aren’t going to be in any of the same classes.” Stiles pouted, for a
second.
“Well we could be in History together, still. And there is always lacrosse. We
could write notes to each other and put them in our lockers-”
“Shut up.” Scott said, trying to hold back a laugh. Stiles smiled at Scott as
the door to the shop opened and in walked a guy. He had sunglasses on, which he
promptly took off and slipped into the neck of his v-neck shirt. Stiles bit his
lip, standing up straight and glaring at Scott to get out of the way. Customers
before Scott, he reminded himself.
“What can I get you?” Stiles asked.
“An Espresso Macchiato.” The stranger said, pulling out his wallet. Scott was
behind him, making a face. Stiles made one back as he said the total. The
stranger raised an eyebrow at him, and Stiles coughed, clearing his throat.
Embarrassing. Stiles took the money, giving the man change before rushing to
make his order.
“I, uh, have never seen you in here before.” He said, trying to make
conversation. He looked over and Scott was seated on one of the couches,
flipping through a magazine that someone left.
“Just moved back to town.”
“Back?” Stiles asked.
“Yeah, my family used to live here. We moved away about six years ago, so.” He
wasn’t exactly an open book, but he wasn’t completely closed off either.
“Well, welcome back.” Stiles said, handing him the drink. The guy looked to
Stiles’ name tag, and smiled.
“Thanks, Stiles.” Why the fuck were there butterflies in Stiles’ stomach?
Inopportune time to be turned on, rude. His body was rude.
“No problem...” Stiles trailed off, hoping for a name.
“Derek.” He said, chuckling as he walked out. Stiles bit the corner of his
mouth, raking his teeth across his lip slowly as he watched Derek walk down the
sidewalk and get into a black camaro.
“Fuck.” He whispered. Fuck.
 
Thank fuck that he got off at two. Scott waited around for him, to the chagrin
of Isaac, like always. He tossed his apron in the back of his Jeep as they
climbed in.
“I am starving, dude.” Stiles said, starting the Jeep and backing out. “I could
seriously eat an entire buffet right now.”
“Raid your fridge?” Scott suggested. Stiles sighed, shaking his head.
“Dad is home, may give me a list of shit to do before school. Like ‘do your
laundry’. I hate laundry.”
“You do smell, though.” Scott said, laughing. Stiles punched him, hard. He
stopped and got McDonalds, because their fries are the best fries.
“There is a rave tonight.” Stiles laughed.
“I am not going, I have to open again.”
“You could stay out all night, sleep now.” Scott said, clearly not
understanding how hard it would be. “Pop an Adderall.” Stiles made a face.
 
“You are supposed to stop my pill popping, not enable it.” He said with a fry
in his mouth. “I could take something and stay up, I guess.”
“It wouldn’t be worse than what everyone else will be on.”
“Why do you want to go?” Stiles asked. “Raves aren’t even your scene.”
“Alli-”
“Bah.” Stiles said, shoving fries in his mouth. It was going to be a long day.
They spent the day playing Fallout 3 and Siren . Siren because Stiles actually
liked playing games that scared the shit out of him. He ate that stuff up,
screaming his lungs out. He liked Silent Hill, Fatal Frame, and Dead Space. By
the time night fell, Scott and Stiles were both creeped the fuck out and ready
for the rave. Scott, of course, needed to change and shower, since he was still
wearing what were probably his pajamas.
Stiles played Call of Duty 4 while Scott showered, because there was no such
thing as too many video games. He looked at his watch, groaning as Scott took
forever.
“You take longer than your mom to get ready, don’t you?” He called out. Scott
walked into his room, flicking Stiles off. “Oh, original, Scott. Are you
ready?” He asked.
“Yeah, let me get my shoes on then we can go.”
Stiles could hear the music from outside the warehouse, and he loved it. He
loved dubstep, he didn’t even give a fuck what people thought because it kept
him entertained. It was fast, and he loved the climb of the music, and the
decent down. He loved how it made him want to jump around, expel all his excess
energy, which he had a shit ton of to be frank. He had an Adderall in his
pocket, but for now he was fine. He wanted to enjoy the music, the people
pressed against each other as they danced. He didn’t want to be numb, he didn’t
want to be mellow. He wanted to be himself, here.
He’d take the Adderall when he felt like he was going to pass out, probably as
he went in to work. Ah, the next day was going to suck, hard.
Inside was hot and sticky. A warehouse in the middle of summer? Yeah, good
plan. He was sweating within minutes. That didn’t stop the feeling of euphoria
though, being surrounded by people who didn’t care who he was, didn’t care that
he wasn’t first line on his lacrosse team, didn’t give a fuck that he worked at
a coffee shop. They didn’t know a thing about him and he didn’t know them and
that was fucking wonderful.
Someone came up to him, cupping his face, then kissed him. Just randomly, just
fucking kissed him. It was a guy, and his pupils were blown wide. For a second,
Stiles was worried that they had passed him E, but he knew they would have
asked. Ecstasy was the last thing he needed. He was bouncy enough as it was.
Without a word, the mysterious guy was gone.
“Good kisser.” Stiles laughed, looking around for Scott. No doubt, he was
probably looking for Allison. Way to leave him hanging, in the middle of a
crowd of strangers. A new song started and Stiles started to move along with
the music, not caring how he was moving. Hands were everywhere, mouths, clothes
were being discarded. Oh, god, he loved raves.
Too bad school was starting.
“Hey Stiles.” A familiar voice said, and Stiles turned around, bringing his
hands down from where they were in the air.
“Uh, hey... Derek?” He asked, surprised to see Derek at the rave, shirtless.
Stiles couldn’t stop himself from looking him up and down. He didn’t want to
stop himself, really. Why? Derek was the one shirtless at a rave. His shirt was
tucked into his belt, covering his ass. There went Stiles’ body, betraying him
again. Derek grinned at him, taking a step forward, moving with the music. It
was climbing up and up and it looked as though Derek didn’t have any intention
of stopping. Stiles took the hint, and stepped closer, a hand sliding
tentatively over Derek’s side as Stiles moved his hips. Derek gripped Stiles’
waist, and pulled him towards him.
Oh, shit.
Stiles laughed, he couldn’t help it. He out right laughed. Derek was older,
definitely older. In his mid-twenties at least, judging by his ability to grow
a beard. Well, the stubble... shit. Derek’s lips played at Stiles’ ear and he
let out a moan. In public. This was happening in public. Stiles knew, though,
that no one cared, here.
“You like that?” Derek asked and Stiles could only nod his head in response.
For once, he had no words. He literally couldn’t think of a single thing to say
that wasn’t ‘your muscles are like a greek god’s’ because that is something he
shouldn’t say, ever. Never. Derek’s mouth was on his ear, then his neck, his
hands slipped beneath Stiles’ shirt and circled his stomach. Stiles moved his
head, searching for Derek’s mouth. When he found it, he moaned.
Derek opened his mouth for Stiles, pressing his body against Stiles’. First,
Stiles was kissed by that random, and now a hot older guy was making out with
him. Senior year was going to be fucking amazing if this was how it was
starting.
“Want to get out of here?” Derek asked and Stiles’ heart was beating in his
throat. He nodded, because fuck yes he wanted to leave with Derek. His eyes
widened.
“Scott.” He whispered, looking around as Derek took his hand and lead him out.
It surprised him when he saw how late it was already, almost two thirty. Well,
he had a bit before he had to be at work. Plenty of time, right? Right. He
texted Scott, telling him he had to go and to get Allison to take him home.
Solid game plan. He totally wasn’t ditching his best friend. “Uh, what about my
car?” Stiles asked as Derek brought him to the black camaro he noticed earlier
at the coffee shop.
“I’ll bring you back.” Derek said, opening the door for Stiles. Stiles nodded,
getting in on the passenger side. He was getting in a stranger’s car. Well, if
this wasn’t the dumbest thing he had ever done, he didn’t know what was. Talk
about thinking with your dick, this was just-
Derek’s mouth was on his again, his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck as he sat
in the driver’s seat. Stiles put his hand on Derek’s thigh, for leverage of
course. They were kissing, for what seemed like forever to Stiles. He was
panting and the windows were fogging and he had to remember to breathe. It was
easier when Derek’s mouth moved to his neck, because then breathing came
naturally. Stiles couldn’t seem to close his mouth though, moaning when he felt
teeth scrape across his skin. His hand shifted, higher on Derek’s thigh. A hand
was on top of his, moving it between Derek’s legs. Oh, right. Yes. Stiles
shuddered, his fingers outlining Derek’s arousal. He licked his lips as Derek
rolled his hips. Fuck, this was really happening. Going from never been kissed
ever in the history of his life to a random and now Derek wanting him. Alright,
alright.
He unzipped Derek’s pants, freeing him. Derek moved his seat back, giving
Stiles more room, his hand still on the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles looked at
him, his own erection throbbing in his pants as his hand wrapped around Derek,
stroking him tentatively. By Derek’s reaction, Stiles figured what worked on
him worked on Derek, too. His confidence growing quickly, he leaned over,
ghosting his mouth over Derek’s head indecisively. He trailed down his shaft,
not entirely committing yet. Derek moaned above him, his hand refusing to leave
Stiles’ neck, applying a small amount of pressure. Stiles bit the bullet, and
took Derek into his mouth, opening wide.
“Yes, like that.” Derek said, reassuring him. After a while, he got the hang of
it, and Derek started moving his hips, fucking up into his mouth, keeping him
pressed down. Stiles held onto Derek’s thighs, letting him. He could hear his
mouth making wet, sloppy noses. Sucking and lapping at Derek’s cock. He moaned,
unable to keep it in. Derek pulled Stiles off of him, kissing his red, swollen
lips and reaching his hand between Stiles’ legs, gripping him through his
jeans. Stiles shuddered, gasping as Derek unzipped his jeans, feeling him
through his damp boxer briefs. Oh, god, they were damp. Precome dripped from
his cock as Derek handled him.
“Oh, fuck.” Stiles gasped as Derek stroked him. He wasn’t going to make it, he
wasn’t going to- “Sorry.” Stiles almost squeaked. Derek laughed, licking his
fingers as if it was nothing that Stiles came in two point five seconds after
Derek had touched him.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” He said, taking Stiles’ hand and pulling it to his
erection. “You going to make me do the same, Stiles?” He asked. Stiles
whimpered, gripping him tight, jacking him fast, like he did when he wanted to
come. Derek closed his eyes, biting his bottom lip as he panted, letting Stiles
jerk him off until he came. He spilled onto his own chest, which had Stiles’
mouth watering. Without blinking, he leaned in and licked Derek’s chest,
wanting to taste him.
Once Stiles’ euphoric climax had subsided, he knew he was blushing. Derek
cupped his face, kissing him. A shiver went down Stiles’ spine as he thought
about how his mouth must taste like Derek. Derek was kissing him when he had
just-
Stiles moaned again, his hand on Derek’s chest. They hadn’t even turned the car
on.
“What time is it?” Stiles asked. Derek grunted, looking at his watch.
“Four.” He whispered against Stiles’ lips.
“Shit, I’ve got to shower.” Stiles said, pushing away from Derek. “I’ve got to
work.” Derek nodded.
“Maybe I’ll stop by.” Stiles’ heart raced as he nodded.
“Yeah, that... that would be cool.” He said, feigning at nonchalance.
Derek did show up, at around noon. Stiles was awake, due to his Adderall and
three shots of espresso and an Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte that he was carrying
around with him all day. He was practically bouncing in place. He knew, though,
that if he sat down he would pass out. He only had two hours left and he had to
make it until then. Derek didn’t stay long, but ordered the same as the day
before and Stiles couldn’t wipe the grin off of his own face. Derek, too, had a
smirk that let Stiles know he was having the same problem. This time, Derek
used a debit card. Stiles definitely noticed that he had written his number
down and he definitely fucking noticed that Derek had put a tip in the tip jar.
Fuck. Yes.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     Stiles is asked on a date, sort of?
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles got off work at two, the normal time, and headed straight home. He was
so tired he thought he would pass out. Do not pass Go, do not collect two
hundred dollars. He was to the point where if his head wasn’t on a pillow soon
he would get angry. Hours ago he was slap happy, thinking everything was funny.
Now, though, he wanted to kill things. There was this light down the road that
he hated with a passion, because it stayed red for what felt like ages. Well
today it chose to catch him, and today it decided his car wasn’t there so it
didn’t change for seven minutes and twelve seconds. Stiles knew because he
counted. That light was going down. Eventually. After sleep.
Stiles walked into the house and groaned, his head tilted back, feet dragging
off the floor. He had one foot on the stairs when he heard his dad clear his
throat.
“Stiles, get in here.” He said from the kitchen, his tone ominous. Shitballs.
Stiles walked in, leaning against the doorframe that lead into the kitchen,
resting his head. “Tired?” He asked as he sat at the table, coffee in hand, and
the morning’s newspaper. He apparently had just gotten up from working the
night shift. Stiles nodded, trying not to close his eyes. The door frame was a
lot more comfortable than he had originally thought it would be. “Long night?”
He asked. Stiles heard warning signs go off in his brain but his reaction time
was sluggish, his brain wasn’t working properly. “Your bed was made when I came
in this morning.” Stiles made a noncommittal noise. “Your xbox was still on
from when Scott was here yesterday.” Why the fuck was his dad the Sheriff? This
was not going well. “And you look dead on your feet. Please tell me you were
not out all night long.”
“I-” Stiles shut his mouth, not knowing what to say.
“Stiles, I have a double shift today. You start school tomorrow. If you don’t
get your shit together this year, you’ll be grounded until college.” Stiles
made a frustrated noise, biting his bottom lip in annoyance. Keep your mouth
shut, don’t say anything.
“I was with Scott, so-”
“And that is supposed to make me feel better?” The Sheriff asked, standing. “Do
me a favor, Stiles, and stay in tonight. School tomorrow. I want you here,
curfew for this year is set at ten.” Stiles’ eyes widened, his jaw dropped.
“What? That-”
“Is your curfew. Break it, you are grounded. No discussion.” With that, his dad
walked off to take a shower before he had to work sixteen hours straight.
Stiles flailed angrily, gritting his teeth as he held back expletives within
earshot of his dad.
Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. This was fucking bullshit. He was seventeen, not
a child. He should be able to go to a rave and stay out if he wanted to. He
didn’t do any drugs, he didn’t-
Well. He definitely got into a car with a stranger. That happened. Stiles
climbed the stairs slowly, practically crawled out of his clothes, then fell
into bed. He didn’t even bother to unmake it before he fell asleep.
Stiles woke up to the sound of a text message coming through. He didn’t know
where he was, at first. Disoriented and groggy, he reached for his phone. His
heart leapt when he saw it was from Derek.
I was thinking about maybe getting Chinese take out and watching The Shining,
you interested? Holy fucking shit, yes. Stiles scrambled into a seated
position, looking over the text three times before glancing at the clock. It
was just past six.
He responded with: Sounds like a plan. Give me an hour? He practically ran into
the bathroom, turned on the shower, then waited for the water to warm up. Derek
responded with his address, saying that an hour would be perfect. Stiles’
weaknesses, Chinese food and horror films. Yes, please, all day everyday.
Stiles took the fastest shower known to man, then brushed his teeth. That was
when he felt it, a feeling that he dreaded most: lightheaded, dizzy, and weak.
Shit, shit, fuck it all. He hadn’t taken any Adderall since four that morning.
His body hated him, that was the only explanation. He grabbed the bottle that
was kept in the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. He took it, angry
that he hadn’t taken it before he went to bed. He fucked up his dosage
schedule, and that along with his sleep schedule.... his week was going to get
interesting. Good thing he was about to go eat, because he wouldn’t feel better
until he did, despite how much the medication suppressed his appetite.
Pretending you felt fine was an art that Stiles thought that he was pretty good
at, really. If he could feign anything, it was being able to make people think
everything was fine when in fact, usually nothing was okay. Ever since his
mother died, Stiles knew people didn’t want to see him frown all the time and
he didn’t want a pity party. He hid his feelings with a smile and a joke,
especially from his dad. He didn’t want his dad to worry about him, ever. Even
though he totally did, albeit even a little too much.
Stiles grumbled, grabbing his car keys as he rubbed his head, antsy, gittery.
His life was a joke. Of course he would be a spastic mess right now. He turned
his car on, plugging Derek’s address into the GPS on his phone when he got a
text from Scott.
You alive? it read. Stiles laughed.
Yeah, you get home alright? Stiles asked. He had totally forgot about-
Hell yes, Allison took me home. What are you doing right now? Want to come
over? Stiles bit his lip, his leg bouncing at an alarming rate. He sighed,
shaking his head.
I can’t. School night. Dad is being ridiculous.
Want me to come over? Stiles basically growled.
I’ve sort of got a date. Sort of? Maybe. Kind of. Stiles put, then hit send. He
knew he’d get a call in 5, 4, 3, 2-
Stiles’ phone rang, it was Scott.
“Who are you going out with?” Scott asked, sounding way too excited about it.
“His name is Derek, uh. We met last night.” Stiles said, unable to keep still
in the driver’s seat of his Jeep.
“Is that why you left me?” Scott asked, laughing. “Thought you said you had a
curfew-”
“Yeah, I do. Which is why I need to get going so I can still be home in time
for it so I am not grounded from seeing him again.” Stiles snapped without
meaning to. He shut his eyes, cursing himself for missing his dosage. Scott let
it roll, though, knowing Stiles’ nuances. “I’ll get on when I get home and we
can play Call of Duty until we pass out, deal?”
“Deal.”
Stiles was late getting to Derek’s but only by a few minutes. Fashionably late?
Stiles looked down, he definitely wouldn’t be considered fashionable. He
knocked on the door of what he hoped was Derek’s apartment. Derek opened the
door, smiling.
“Hey.” He said, which had Stiles rubbing his hands together somewhat awkwardly.
Good job, Stiles.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. I got a call from a friend and then my GPS wouldn’t work
so I had to reboot my phone and then every stop light known to man in this town
has a vendetta against me,” Stiles rambled out, nervous. This was different
than the night before. This was not a rave, not even close. This was personal,
this was Derek’s home.
“It’s not a problem,” Derek said, opening the door wider so that Stiles could
walk in. “The take out should get here soon, I ordered basically... everything
on the menu?” Stiles laughed.
“As long as I get my egg roll I will be happy.” Stiles joked as he looked
around. “Wow that is a lot of books.” He said, walking over to a bookshelf that
took up most of one of the walls. It had everything from Harry Potter to 1984
on it. It was even alphabetized. Stiles was lucky if all of his books were
facing the right direction. Although, his attention span didn’t hold well when
it came to novels, so he figured it was for the best that he spent most of his
money on Sparknotes.
“I read a lot.” Derek said, sounding amused. Stiles walked over to the
fireplace, looking at the pictures that were on the mantle.
“This your family?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, walking over, standing next to
Stiles, their arms touching.
“That’s them.” Derek whispered, not elaborating. Stiles heard it though, the
hint of sadness in Derek’s voice. Stiles knew that tone well, because he used
it whenever someone mentioned his mother. Stiles decided to change the subject.
“So you like horror movies?” Stiles asked, gulping. He really should have gone
for a run around the block before knocking on Derek’s door because if he didn’t
expel any of this energy soon he was pretty sure that he was going to explode.
“I do, mostly older ones like The Exorcist, The Omen, The Birds...”
“Alfred Hitchcock movies?” Derek nodded. “They are pretty cool, yeah. Nothing
beats Shaun of the Dead, though.” Derek laughed. Stiles liked the sound of it,
it made his stomach do somersaults.
“Fan of Simon Pegg and Nick Frost?”
“Fuck yeah, they are hilarious,” Stiles said, gnawing on his lip. The doorbell
rang and Stiles jumped. Derek took out his wallet as he walked to the door and
Stiles wanted to stop him and hand him some cash to pitch in.
“I got this,” Derek said over his shoulder, as if he knew what Stiles was
thinking. Stiles sat on the couch, unpacking the bags as Derek set them down.
Lo Mein, fried rice, seseme chicken, beef and broccoli, egg rolls and egg drop
soup with those crunchy things that Stiles loved. Derek put the movie on and
grabbed plates for them so that they could divvy up the food.
They ate in mostly silence, except for Stiles asking for a bowl so that they
could split the soup. He broke up the crunchy Chinese noodles and put them in
the soup a couple of pieces at a time so that they wouldn’t get soggy when he
ate it. Derek watched him out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing about
Stiles’ weird eating habit. After the food was devoured, Stiles sat back on the
couch, his shoes off so he could tuck his feet up underneath him. His mind was
racing, but his body was exhausted. He tilted his head to the side so that he
could lean back and still see the movie. The couch they were seated on was a
small two seater, so his legs were touching Derek’s. It didn’t feel awkward,
but more like it was easy, like Derek was Scott. Derek’s hand came up, resting
on the back of the couch nonchalantly, so Stiles shifted slightly closer. His
heart was beating in his throat, over thinking the situation. He turned his
head to say something, but his lips found Derek’s, swallowing his words.
It felt too easy, too casual. They kissed slowly, lazily, very much unlike the
desperation of the night before. Stiles liked it, kissing like they had all the
time in the world. Not rushing, not tugging at each other’s clothes. Although,
that sounded like fun too. He moaned into the kiss as Derek’s hand went to the
back of Stiles’ neck. It was like a trigger, for Stiles. His hands shot up,
grabbing onto Derek’s shirt as the dynamic of the kiss shifted. Derek’s free
hand came down to Stiles’ waist, moving him easily so that Stiles was
straddling Derek as they continued kissing. Derek’s hands roamed over Stiles’
body, landing on his ass, pressing him down onto his lap. Stiles gasped,
feeling his own erection press up against Derek’s. Derek moved Stiles’ hips,
both of them moving as if they were fucking. Stiles’ brain short circuited, his
mouth moved from Derek’s lips to his neck, loving the feel of Derek’s hands
gripping him tightly, dictating the pace of their movements.
Derek shifted, his hands sliding up Stiles’ torso, ridding him of his shirt,
his mouth trailing over Stiles’ chest. Eyelids heavy with lust, Stiles groaned
as Derek played at a nipple slowly, teasing. Stiles’ fingers raked through
Derek’s hair as he rolled his hips, practically begging to be fucked. He didn’t
know when he became so desperate, but by his count it was only since yesterday.
He didn’t care right then, he didn’t give a fuck how he looked because what
Derek was doing to him made his cock jerk in his pants. He wanted more, needed
more and Derek wanted to give it to him.
Derek’s hand slid underneath Stiles’ jeans, under his boxer briefs, gripping
the skin of his ass. Stiles was pretty sure he just whimpered, and that Derek
chuckled. Rude, that was rude. He was practically dripping precome, his briefs
soaked and Derek was laughing. Stiles moved his hips in retaliation, which made
Derek moan, cupping Stiles’ face with his hands, their lips crashing together
once more.
And then Stiles’ phone rang. He thought about ignoring it, thinking it was
Scott. But then he noticed the ring tone.
His dad.
“Uh, shit.” He whispered, reaching into his pocket and getting it out,
shuffling off of Derek. “I have to... yeah-” He said, walking into the kitchen,
rubbing his head with frustration. “Yeah?” He asked, clearing his throat.
“I just called the house to make sure you were upholding the curfew.” Stiles’
eyes widened as he searched for a clock. His eyes landed on the microwave. It
was 10:15pm. Shit, shit, oh shit. He was dead, so dead. The deadest.
“Oh, shi-” He started.
“If I call the house again and you aren’t there in twenty minutes I am
disconnecting xbox live.” The Sheriff said, then hung up. Stiles cursed under
his breath, holding back from stomping his foot on the floor.
“Bad news?” Derek asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Oh,
god he looked... Stiles wanted to jump him.
“I’ve got... I’ve got to go.” Stiles said, looking defeated, shifting his
weight from leg to leg, restless. “I mean, I’d love to stay, to you know...
finish what we started but I sort of promised someone I’d be somewhere and you
called last minute and I thought-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Derek said, grinning. “There’s always next time.”
Stiles nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, mentally kicking himself. He
walked towards Derek, who kissed him again, keeping it short and to the point:
there would be a next time. Stiles had to force himself to leave.
 
When he walked in the door, the phone was ringing. He ran to the kitchen,
grabbing it just in time.
“Congratulations, Stiles. You’ve won yourself a reprieve. Not grounded, but you
have to do all the chores for the week.”
“What? But-”
“Dishes, laundry, all of it.”
“I hate laundry.” Stiles muttered, his father sighed, sounding tired. “The
grocery shopping?”
“You got it, kid.” Stiles groaned. “That was your last warning, though.”
“Right, got it. Be home. Will call. Grounding will happen.”
“Exactly.”
“Night, dad,” Stiles said.
“Good night, Stiles.”
Scott was waiting for him to play Call of Duty but first, Stiles had to take
care of something. Less than ten minutes to himself, and he was sorted. It
didn’t take him long, really. All he had to do was think about Derek’s hand on
his neck, of his mouth on him.
He washed his hands, then changed into his pajama pants, his favorite ones,
then went downstairs to sign on. His dad wouldn’t let him have a TV in his
room, for obvious reasons. Stiles wouldn’t ever get anything done otherwise. So
he sat in his dad’s chair, reclined, as he and Scott played and talked to each
other over their headsets until neither of them could keep their eyes open any
longer.
The morning of the first day of school was no different than any other.
Grumbling and barely awake, Stiles showered. His father was in bed, so he tried
to be as quiet as possible. He made sure to take his pill, still feeling off
from the day before. In homeroom, he got his schedule. He listened to the
morning announcements, welcoming the students back for another year. Stiles
wished he had stopped by the coffee shop for a shot of espresso. He could feel
the bags under his eyes. Staying up late with Scott was a mistake, but he had
needed it. He needed to get his mind off of things, off of Derek. Scott had
asked how it went, and Stiles told him. Not the details, because Scott said he
didn’t want those.
He told him about his father calling, about almost getting grounded.
“If that happened, I would only see you at lacrosse practice.” Scott had
whined. Stiles sighed.
“I know.”
And Scott had been right. They didn’t have any classes together. The first
thing he had done was text his schedule to Scott, Scott had done the same.
Nothing the same, not one class. Stiles called bullshit on this. He had AP
English first, so when the bell rang he went to his locker to grab his books
for his first three periods, which were on the other end of the building. He
walked in right as the bell was ringing, when the only seat left was front and
center. He hated sitting in the front, he felt like he couldn’t fidget in the
front, couldn’t doodle.
He grabbed his books out of his bag, not looking up until the teacher started
speaking. It was a voice he knew well. Too well.
“Welcome to AP English, I am your teacher, Mr. Hale.” Stiles’ eyes widened as
he looked up at Derek, who was staring at him, surprise written across his
face. “I am passing out the semester’s syllabus, please look over it.” He said,
breaking eye contact with Stiles.
Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.
Chapter End Notes
     beta'd by lsdme.
      
     So I sort of woke up four hours early for work and this happened.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles sank down in his chair, pen in his mouth as he stared straight ahead,
refusing to look at Derek. Derek who he had made out with last night, who he
blew, who made him come in two point five seconds in the passenger seat of his
car. Derek who apparently wore mother fucking glasses when he taught, and
decided that vests were appropriate school attire. Oh, dear fucking god. He was
going to hell.
This was not happening.
Stiles jumped when fingers snapped in front of his face. He looked up, dropping
his pen from his mouth.
“Mr. Stilinski?” Derek asked, Mr. Hale asked. Stiles gulped, nodding, licking
his lips subconsciously. “I asked you a question.” Mr. Hale, think of him as
Mr. Hale, said, his tone unamused. Stiles didn’t like that tone directed at
him, at all. It made him shudder. He wanted to disappear. He gulped again.
“I-” He started, shaking his head. “I didn’t hear what you asked.”
“I asked what, of the four books that were on the summer reading list, did you
enjoy most?” Dere- Mr. Hale asked. Stiles sat up, looking around for Scott.
Scott wasn’t there, Scott wasn’t in any of his classes, dammit.
“I, uh... well. I thought that A Separate Peace was interesting,” he started,
clearing his throat. “I thought that in Hedda Gabler that they talked about
backdoors a bit too much.” A few people surrounding Stiles laughed, which made
him smile. Stiles looked up at Derek, biting his bottom lip. Derek was
suppressing a smile, he could tell. “But it was boring, so not that one. A Tale
of Two Cities was just...” Stiles made a face, “Unbearable.” Derek’s jaw
clenched, an eyebrow rose. “So I am going to have to go with The Importance of
Being Earnest. Who wouldn’t want to pretend to be someone they’re not, even if
just for a little while,” Stiles said, ending on a whisper.
“Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Stilinski-”
“Call me Stiles. Mr. Stilinski is my dad.” Stiles cut in. Derek said nothing as
he asked a girl a few rows back the same question. Stiles took to doodling,
refusing to look up again until the bell rang. He grabbed his things in a rush,
hoping to get the fuck out before-
“Stiles, can you stay back a moment?” Derek asked. Stiles whimpered, but sat
back down, sighing as he played with his pen. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. He
blamed Derek with his glasses and his voice and his fucking vest. Stiles looked
up at him in time to watch Derek lean against his desk and cross his arms.
This isn’t fucking fair, this is just cruel and unusual punishment. “We need to
talk.” Derek had that unamused tone still, which made Stiles’ stomach lurch. He
didn’t want to talk, he wanted to leave. He wanted to hide.
“How about we make out instead,” Stiles offered, looking up at Derek. Derek
raised an eyebrow.
“How old are you?” He asked. Ouch, oh fuck. Stiles cringed, gnawing on his
bottom lip as if it would save him.
“Seventeen.” Derek groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. People were
filing in, which was fortunate for Stiles. Derek looked at him, his jaw
clenched, his head shaking slightly. “We will finish this conversation later,”
He said as he watched Stiles scurry to the door. Stiles nodded, then left. As
soon as he was around the corner he leaned against a locker, covering his eyes
with a hand. He took a deep breath, then hit the locker as hard as he could.
Fuck everything.
AP Econ bored Stiles to death, and thank god he had a study period because he
had a stress headache. He texted Scott, telling him he would be in the library.
He found a table and sat in it, laying his head against the tabletop. He closed
his eyes, his leg absentmindedly bouncing. His phone buzzed and he took a deep
breath before looking at it. He had expected it to be Scott, but it was Derek.
Sorry if I was a little intense. I had no idea you’d be a student. Stiles
stared at it for a minute, wondering if he should respond or not. He was a
teacher, his teacher. Stiles’ mouth watered when he thought about how he felt
on top of Derek, on Derek’s hands on his ass, the feel of Derek’s tongue on his
skin-
Well who knew you’d be teaching me? AP English? Really? Stiles sniffed, putting
his phone down as he waited for a response. His leg was insane, not staying
still. He couldn’t calm down, his fingers drummed against the table
impatiently.
I am serious about that talk.
Stiles answered back, knowing Derek would probably roll his eyes or like,
refuse to respond. Stiles was right, for once. Derek didn’t answer that and
when the bell rang, Stiles made his way to the cafeteria for lunch. He found
Scott, who had saved him a place beside him.
“Today sucks,” Stiles murmured, sitting down.
“Where is your lunch?” Scott asked. Stiles shook his head. He wasn’t hungry. At
all. His meds fucked up everything, he had no appetite and he couldn’t stop
fucking moving. Stiles scratched his neck, shaking his head again. “Want half
of my sandwich?” Scott asked. Stiles almost shook his head once more, but took
the sandwich instead, biting into it. “What’s up?”
 
“Shit with, uh, Derek.”
“That went downhill fast.”
“Tell me about it,” Stiles said, making a face as he reached over and took one
of Scott’s chips. Maybe he was hungry than he had originally thought. “You work
tonight?” Scott asked. Stiles nodded.
“Yeah, three to nine.”
“I work until seven, want me to stop by afterwards?” Scott asked. Stiles
nodded.
“Yeah, but I can’t hang afterwards. I’ve got chores, I missed curfew last
night.”
“Oh, shit.”
The afternoon went by faster, thank god, because Stiles wanted to be distracted
and making people over priced coffee would be the perfect distraction. After
school was always busy, very busy. When Stiles walked behind the counter tying
his apron, he stopped dead in his tracks. Derek was in line with his fucking
glasses and that vest. Stiles gritted his teeth, asking the next person in line
what they wanted. Maybe if he timed it right, Isaac would serve Derek and not
him. He suddenly didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t want Derek to tell him
they were done, he didn’t want Derek to shut him down because of his age.
Stiles looked from Derek to Isaac, who was making the drinks. Stiles didn’t
like being on register when they were busy, he liked making everything. He
liked having to rush, he liked how busy he was. Register bored him. He sighed,
writing down a woman’s order and putting the cup in a line with others who were
waiting. Derek stepped forward and Stiles put up a finger, asking him to wait.
“One second, we’re backed up. If you could give us a minute to catch up-”
“Alright,” Derek said, his voice softer than in school. It made Stiles stop and
look at him.
“Stiles, come on,” Isaac urged him, making Stiles snap out of it and grab a cup
and making the beverage. “What is going on?” Isaac asked in a whisper, looking
at Derek. “Isn’t that the new English teacher?” Stiles scrunched his face,
wishing Isaac wasn’t so smart.
“Uh, yeah, he is. Nothing’s on. Nothing is going-” Stiles stumbled over his
words, rolling his eyes at himself. “It’s nothing, Isaac.”
Isaac didn’t say anything else, but his look said it all: he knew something was
up. Once Stiles helped by making two drinks, he came back to Derek who had been
waiting patiently.
“Sorry for the wait,” Stiles whispered, sighing. “What can I get for you?”
“What time do you get off?” Derek asked, looking up at the menu as if he was
still deciding. Stiles looked to Isaac who was busy and out of earshot.
“Nine, but-”
“Text me, I’ll get an Iced Caramel Macchiato, tall.” Stiles lifted an eyebrow
as he wrote it.
“Thought you were a black coffee kind of guy.” Stiles murmured. Derek smirked,
leaning forward just enough for Stiles to notice.
“I have a sweet tooth, too.” Stiles gulped, remembering to breathe. He told
Derek the total, putting the cup in line for Isaac to make it. Derek handed him
a five. “Keep the change.” Stiles bit his lip, putting Derek’s change in the
tip jar.
He was getting mixed signals and this just wasn’t on. During his break, he went
out back and got out his phone, sitting on the ground with an everything bagel
with cream cheese and an Iced Cinnamon Dolce Latte. He thought about dialing
Derek, but he changed his mind at the last second, calling his dad instead.
“Yeah?” His dad asked, answering after only one ring. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, dad, I’m fine,” Stiles said, sighing. “Was just seeing if you wanted me
to get anything before I headed home, after work.” He took a long sip of his
drink, hoping the caffeine would hit him.
“We’re out of milk, and Stiles?”
“Yeah, dad?” Stiles asked, picking at his bagel.
“Try to get home by ten.” Stiles smiled, nodding his head even though his dad
couldn’t see him. “Love you, dad.”
“Love you too, kid. I’ll be home when you get here.” Stiles nodded, sighing. He
finished his bagel then walked back in. Nine o’clock couldn’t come soon enough
for him.
Scott stopped by, like he said he would, but Stiles wasn’t in the mood. He
could feel his anxiety building. Luckily, he and Isaac switched places so he
could to mix the drinks. Scott talked to Isaac for a while, then told Stiles if
he was up for Call of Duty later to just text him. Stiles nodded, telling him
that he would.
He got into his Jeep at quarter after nine, after he and Isaac locked up for
the night. He texted Derek with I’m out. then started his Jeep, heading for the
grocery store before they closed. With milk in hand, he felt his phone buzzing
in his pocket. Derek was calling him. Awesome.
“Yeah?” He answered, going to the self checkout lane.
“Last night when you had to leave, was it your dad calling you about a curfew?”
Derek asked. Stiles made a face, stomping his foot once, shaking his head.
“Yes,” he answered through gritted teeth. He heard Derek sigh on the other end.
“Listen, I know this is-”
“This can’t happen, Stiles.” Derek whispered. Stiles fed dollar bills into the
machine, switching ears so that he could cradle the phone between his shoulder
and cheek.
“That isn’t fair.”
“You’re seventeen.”
“I’ll be eighteen in October.” Stiles counteracted. Stiles swore he heard Derek
growl. “So, what? Chinese food and horror films meant nothing? We’ll just
pretend, I don’t know, that-”
“Stop there, please.” Derek pleaded. Stiles did stop, he stopped because Derek
sounded just as upset as he felt. “I think we need to take a step back.”
“And what? Reevaluate the situation when I turn eighteen?” Stiles asked,
shoving the milk in a bag and walking out to his car. He stopped dead in his
tracks when he saw Derek leaning on his car in the parking lot. “Are you
stalking me?” Stiles asked.
“What?” Derek asked.
“You’re in the parking lot, right now.” Stiles said, walking over and hanging
up. Derek looked uncomfortable. “Are you telling me you didn’t know I was
here?” Stiles asked.
“No, Stiles, I didn’t know,” Derek said, sighing as he shoved his hands in his
pockets. Probably to keep from touching Stiles, which made Stiles take a step
forward. “This can’t happen.” Derek reiterated.
“I know, you said that already,” Stiles said, his jaw clenched. His heart was
beating fast, so fast, because everything was crashing around him. How come he
only got two days of happiness? Why only two? What did he do in a past life
that only got him two days?
“It doesn’t make it any less true.”
“Is your only defense my age, here?” Stiles asked, shrugging his shoulders.
“Because if that is the only reason-”
“It is a really, really fucking good reason, Stiles. I am ten years older than
you, ten. I’m not just out of college. You weren't even born when Kurt Cobain
died.”
“I was born in 1994.”
“Yeah, in October. He died in April.” Stiles rolled his eyes.
“That is irrelevant.”
“Maybe to you it is,” Derek said, pushing himself off of his car. “To me it
just makes me feel old.” Stiles stood his ground.
“Maybe-”
“No.”
“Would you shut up for a second?” Stiles said, raising his voice. He took a
step forward, again, and leaned in. Half of him expected Derek to push him
away, while the other hoped that he wouldn’t. Derek did not push him away,
though. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Stiles, putting a hand to his neck.
Stiles moaned, he really needed to let Derek know that was his weakness,
seriously.
Stiles broke the kiss, though, as much as he didn’t want to. “I’ve got to get
home,” he whispered against Derek’s cheek. “Some dick teacher gave me homework
on the first day of class.”
Derek laughed, his grip loosening on Stiles, his hand dropping from Stiles’
neck.
“I deserved that.”
“Who assigns a practice essay? Seriously?” Stiles asked, shoving Derek a
little. “You slay me.”
“Noted,” Derek said, unable to hold back a smile. Stiles backed away slowly,
getting his keys out of his pocket. “By the way,” Derek motioned between them,
“this is still not happening.”
Stiles laughed.
“Yeah, whatever you say Derek.”
Stiles got home with ten minutes to spare. He put the milk in the fridge, did
the dishes, and put in a load of laundry before he knocked on his dad’s door.
“I heard you come in,” He said from where he was laying down in bed, watching
TV. “How was your day?”
“Long, school is dumb. I am thinking about dropping out,” Stiles joked. “I did
the dishes, and started some laundry. I’ve got a ton of homework,” he yawned,
covering his mouth as he sat on the edge of his dad’s bed, on his mother’s
side. Stiles put a hand down, leaning on it. “My English teacher decided to
give us a practice essay prompt.”
“Sounds like that class is going to kick your ass.”
“That and Calc, yeah,” Stiles muttered. “I’ve got like, two pages of problems
to hand in tomorrow. What do these teachers think, that we have tons of time?”
“You’re a good kid, Stiles,” The Sheriff said, sighing. “I’ll finish the
laundry tonight, you get your work done.” Stiles smiled, getting off the bed
and heading towards the door.
“Thanks, dad.”
Stiles did the Calc problems first, then turned on his computer to do the
English assignment.
“Writers often highlight the values of a culture or a society by using
characters who are alienated from that culture or society because of gender,
race, class, or creed. Choose a novel or a play in which such a character plays
a significant role and show how that character's alienation reveals the
surrounding society's assumptions or moral values.” Stiles grumbled, knowing
that almost everyone would think about The Scarlet Letter as an obvious choice.
He didn’t want to be obvious.
Your essay prompt blows. Stiles texted to Derek. He tapped his foot to the beat
of the music he was playing, a pandora station, as he waited.
You aren’t allowed to do it on The Scarlet Letter was Derek’s response. Stiles
made a face at his phone.
Wasn’t going to but now I am just to spite you.
Stiles picked up his copy of A Separate Peace, flipping through the passages
that he had highlighted. Derek didn’t respond again, but it didn’t matter, he
had an essay to write.
Chapter End Notes
     9.4k in two days? don't mind if I do! /brainmelts
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles felt like his life was like a broken record. He woke up, he went to
school, he went to work, he hung out with Scott, he did homework, then went to
sleep just to do it all over again. Rinse and repeat, everyday. Before he knew
it, the first week of school was over. He spent his first Friday night as a
senior at home, with his dad, watching The Fifth Element because that was the
greatest movie known to mankind and he rarely spent time with his dad. Scott
had gone to some party where he could follow around Allison like a lost puppy
and normally Stiles would have been all for going just to watch that but he
just wasn’t in the mood.
Derek continued wearing his glasses and vests, drinking coffee during class and
Stiles continued sitting in the front despite him loathing front seats. He
mainly sat in the front so no one could see his face as he looked at Derek, or
taunted him. He was taunting his English teacher, mostly subconsciously though.
Derek texted him Wednesday night, telling him he needed to stop with the oral
fixation shit and Stiles had been confused.
What oral fixation shit? he asked, because what the fuck?
If you put your pen in your mouth one more time... Stiles burst out laughing,
covering his mouth with his hand at the sheer shock of learning that his
idiosyncrasies were turning Derek on.
Stop staring at me, then. he responded, biting his lip as he waited for a
response. He had been doing Econ homework and desperately wanted a distraction.
Stop sitting in the front, then.
Well, then. Challenge accepted.
Thursday morning, Stiles sat in the back, in the corner. He slumped down in his
chair, his legs spread wide as he tapped his foot against the floor. His pen
was most definitely in his mouth, and it stayed there the entire class, much to
the chagrin of Derek who was trying his best not to look atStiles.
Stiles being in the back made it very obvious whenever Derek glanced at him,
and he did it a lot. Stiles smirked.
After The Fifth Element, Stiles had gone to bed, because his four am wake up
call for Saturday seemed so early, so early since he got to sleep in for
school. Which was messed up, if you thought about it. He was in bed, almost
asleep when his phone buzzed.
“Scottttttt,” Stiles whined, reaching for his phone, grumpy because he had been
in that half dream state where he had thought he was asleep. He looked at his
phone, expecting a text from Scott telling Stiles all about how pretty Allison
looked in blah blah dress that she was wearing but it wasn’t. It was Derek.
Suddenly, Stiles was very awake.
You are an earworm, like a song I can’t get out of my head. Stiles didn’t think
that text should make him as happy as it did. He was getting under Derek’s
skin, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Ha.
I hope it is like a good song, and not one you hate. Stiles expected a text
back, so he waited, holding his phone in his hand as he made himself
comfortable on his side. He jumped when his phone rang, though. Derek was
calling him. Oh, fuck.
“I was not expecting you to call,” was how Stiles chose to answer the phone as
he rubbed his head, his fingers trailing down, scratching his neck.
“You aren’t at the first party of the year?” Derek asked. Stiles heard
rustling, as if Derek was in bed. That thought alone had all the blood in his
body rushing south. He swallowed, rolling onto his back.
“I’ve got work, I don’t plan on a repeat of the rave any time soon.”
“I don’t know about you, but I had fun at the rave.” That was not fair, not
fair at all.
“You know I was talking about the whole not sleeping then having to work, and
not the whole... in your car thing.” Oh, god just thinking about it had him
worked up. Stiles pressed his palm against his boxers, wishing his body to calm
the fuck down. Fucking teenage hormones. “But if you want to talk about us in
your car, I am totally all for that too.” Derek sighed. “You called me, you
know.”
“I know, Stiles.”
“You’re a tease.”
“How? How am I being a tease?”
“You and your texting that I am like a song that is stuck in your head is like,
I don’t know. It is asking for me to respond in some way where it gives me hope
and then you are just going to shoot me down again about how nothing can happen
and if you didn’t want something to happen then you wouldn’t have called me at
11:32 at night.” Stiles took a deep breath and waited for a response.
“You’re right, I didn’t need to call you, or text you. Do you want me to stop?”
Stiles shook his head.
“No, I don’t,” he whispered, rolling his eyes at himself. “But this still isn’t
happening, is it?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“And here I was hoping you were calling so we could have phone sex,” Stiles
rambled out. Derek laughed.
“Ah, well. No, I don’t think that is wise.”
“If this was happening, though, you’d be all for that,” Stiles said, his hand
drawing circles on his stomach, because Derek’s voice was doing things to him,
and Derek didn’t have to know what kind of reaction Stiles’ body was having to
this conversation.
“But it’s not, so it doesn’t matter what I would do if it was happening.”
Stiles bit his lip as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of his boxers, as he
gripped himself, stroking slowly. He closed his eyes, thinking about Derek over
him.
“Nope, definitely not happening,” Stiles managed to get out in a somewhat
coherent manner. Derek let out a shuddering sigh.
“Stiles, I know what you’re doing.” Stiles laughed, rolling his hips against
his hand, picking up speed and letting out a moan.
“And you’re still on the phone,” he gasped. That was when he heard it, he heard
Derek moan. Stiles groaned, warmth flooding his body at the sound of Derek
reacting to him, probably with his own hand around him. “I want you so bad,”
Stiles admitted, his looming climax clouding his judgement. He wanted it,
needed it. Derek was breathing into the receiver, causing Stiles to arch his
back, wishing Derek had his hands on him.
“Stiles, I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.” Stiles whimpered, biting down
on his bottom lip, hard to keep from coming at the sound of Derek’s raspy
voice, shot from pleasure. Derek was definitely jacking off to Stiles, and
Stiles definitely wanted him to.
“If you were here right now I’d-”
“God, dammit Stiles,” Derek murmured and Stiles knew, he knew that Derek just
came and that sent him over the edge, making a mess on his hand and chest. He
laughed through his orgasm, sighing as he caught his breath. He reached up
behind him, grabbing a couple of tissues to clean it up.
“Good thing this isn’t happening,” Stiles teased. Derek growled low in his
throat. “Because if it was, I’d tell you that I just made you come before me.”
“Good night, Stiles.” Derek grumbled.
Saturday flew by, what with work and then an afternoon conditioning practice
for lacrosse. The season wasn’t until the spring, but they had to keep in
shape, and had what the coach called ‘conditioning practices’ where the first
line basically tackled Stiles at every opportunity. They also ran, lifted
weights, and other annoying shit that had nothing to do with lacrosse
whatsoever. Stiles hated conditioning practices.
Afterwards, he showered and waited for Scott to come over. His dad had an
overnight shift and gave Stiles permission for Scott to spend the night, aka
stay up late and play video games. Seriously, Stiles lead a high profile life.
Party on, Garth.
Sunday was Stiles’ day off. He slept in, did chores, played even more video
games (because why the fuck not?), and made it halfway through the afternoon
before he gave in to temptation and texted Derek.
Derek didn’t text back. Well, not immediately. Stiles glared at his phone,
angry at his own weakness at being the one to break radio silence since that
night. He grudgingly did his homework, which included another fucking practice
essay.
Stiles finished around dinner time, so he decided to bring something to his dad
at the station. Sandwiches from his dad’s favorite sub shop from across town.
He carried them in, surprised to see his father standing there talking with
Derek about something. What the every loving-
“Ah, there’s my boy with dinner,” his dad said with a smile. Okay, something
was up, something was most definitely up. Derek turned around to look at
Stiles, his jaw set tight. Oh, shit. That wasn’t a happy look. Nope. “Derek,
this is my son, Stiles. Well, that isn’t his name but that is what he likes to
be called.” Yes, dad, thanks for explaining.
“Yes, actually, he is in one of my classes.” Oh sure, go ahead and tell the
Sheriff that little tidbit. Sheriff Stilinski? Meet Derek, Mr. Hale, who I just
had phone sex with the other night but who ignored my text. “How do you say
your first name?” Derek asked, smiling. Stiles frowned, biting his tongue so he
wouldn’t say something he would regret.
“Stiles is fine.”
“Stiles, if you just head on into my office, I’ll join you in a bit,” his dad
said, dismissing him. Stiles side eyed them both as he walked by, sitting down
in his dad’s desk chair so that he could see out into the hallway, watch them.
Derek was facing him, with his dad’s back to him. Every once in awhile Derek
looked at him, but his glance was never for long. They were discussing
something, but Stiles couldn’t make it out. He hated when he couldn’t
eavesdrop.
By the time Derek left, Stiles had finished his sandwich and was sipping slowly
at his drink. His dad raised an eyebrow at him with his hands on his hips as
Stiles realized he was sitting in his dad’s chair. He raised his back,
swiveling the chair a bit with his feet. The Sheriff sighed audibly, then sat
in one of the other chairs, pulling it close to the desk so he could eat.
“What was that about?” Stiles asked, seeing if his dad would tell him.
“You know I can’t discuss that with you,” he said between bites. Stiles rolled
his eyes, twirling the chair around slowly by moving his feet around as he
slumped down in the chair. “What are you doing the rest of the day?” Stiles
shrugged.
“I’ll probably call Scott, why?”
“Derek- Mr. Hale was asking if he knew anyone who was looking to earn a few
extra bucks to help clean up his old family’s estate.”
“Estate?” Stiles asked, sitting up straighter. His dad nodded.
“Yeah, the Hale’s used to live right outside of town, the house has been
abandoned for years now, he wants to clean it up.”
“I could help,” Stiles said, smiling.
“With what time?” His dad asked, shaking his head. “You’ve practically got a
full time job already.”
“Money is money, dad.” Stiles said, taking another sip of his drink. “Come on.”
“Maybe you and Scott could help him out, Scott doesn’t get a lot of hours at
the vets.” Stiles nodded, agreeing with his dad, even though he didn’t want
Scott around when he had a way to be around Derek outside of school. Stiles bit
his lip, standing.
“Well, I am going to go bother Scott and Mrs. McCall for a bit.”
“If she is sleeping, you two go over to our house. She works a lot of nights.”
The Sheriff called out as Stiles walked out of the station. He pulled out his
phone and dialed Derek’s number as he got into his Jeep.
“Stiles-”
“Guess who is your new little helper?” Stiles asked, smirking.
“No. Absolutely not.” Stiles made a face.
“Ah, ha you’re funny. No, I am helping.”
“I am going to hire a crew, Stiles.”
“I can paint shit, and bring you coffee.... and blow you.”
“Stiles, no.” Derek said, sighing. Stiles bounced in his seat, he liked getting
under Derek’s skin, it was fun.
“You are not fun.”
“I don’t want to lose my job, Stiles. You didn’t tell me you were the Sheriff’s
son.” Stiles’ gut sank. Shit, shit, shit.
“No one will know, you’re hiring me. I have a legit reason to be around you
outside of school now.” Derek sighed, and Stiles knew he had won. “So where is
this place? When do you need me?”
“I need you now, but that is besides the point.”
“Oh, cheeky. You’re cheeky.” Stiles hated this mother fucking light so much he
wanted to run into it so it would be no more. That would show it. God, dammit-
“What are you doing tonight?” Derek asked.
“Uh-” Stiles thought as he glared at the unchanging light. “Jacking off, a
lot.” Derek grunted. “Unless you want to remedy-”
“No, Stiles.”
“Then yeah that is all I got on my list. May play Mass Effect, or Portal. I am
open and flexible.”
“I am hanging up, now.” Stiles groaned at Derek.
“You are seriously no fun at all, you know that?”
“Oh, I know it, believe me. I will see you in class tomorrow.” Stiles flat out
whined, which surprised him. Petulance be damned. But then again, Derek was
still on the line. “What do you want, Stiles?”
“Well, you for one.” Derek started to say something but Stiles interrupted him,
because he was a needy bastard apparently. “But if not that, then can we just
like, not have a shit ton of homework this week so I can come over to your
mansion and paint you- I mean, walls. Come paint walls.” Stiles laughed at
himself, gnawing on his bottom lip as he pulled into his driveway.
“You seriously told your dad you wanted to help?”
“Fuck yeah I did,” Stiles said, unlocking the front door then heading upstairs.
“So I am coming over, some time. Whenever, but right now I am going to shower.”
“Why would you tell me you are going to shower?”
“So you’d think about me naked, obviously,” Stiles said nonchalantly.
“Hard to do that since I haven’t really seen you naked.”
“Well whose fault was that?”
“Yours, you left because you missed curfew.” Derek was laughing, he was
actually laughing. This was such bullshit. Stiles grumbled. “You shower, I’m
going to rethink this week’s homework assignments.”
“Are you serious?” Stiles asked, shocked.
“No, I am not changing your workload just so we can be alone together, if you
are coming and helping you actually have to help.” Stiles sighed, making a face
at himself in the mirror. “And you aren’t painting me.”
“That was a slip of the tongue,” Stiles said, laughing afterwards. Everything
he was saying sounded like his mind was in the gutter. It was, but that was
beside the point.
“Good night, Stiles.”
Stiles stayed after class the next day, for legitimate reasons. House reasons.
Derek was sitting at his desk, waiting for everyone to file out of the room. He
was wearing a plain dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders,
and a tie that Stiles really, really wanted to yank. He decided that giving his
bookbag the death grip was safer for all parties involved.
“You and ties is just not fucking fair,” Stiles blurted out, because no one
else was in the room. Derek looked up at him, obviously holding back a smirk as
he tilted his head, looking Stiles up and down for a second.
“Like you don’t have that effect on me?” Derek asked. Stiles placed his palm on
Derek’s desk, leaning forward slightly.
“When are we cleaning your house?”
“When do you work?” Derek asked, shifting in his seat, his foot resting on the
floor right next to Stiles’. Stiles closed his eyes briefly, opening them when
he felt Derek’s fingers on his, ghosting over his skin. Stiles licked his lips.
“Today until nine, tomorrow, uh” Stiles swallowed, not really being able to
think, “tomorrow I’m off.” Derek pulled his hand away and sat up straight,
clearing his throat because students were walking in for the next class.
“Tomorrow after school, then,” Derek said, not looking at Stiles. Stiles
nodded, then made his way to his next class. Once he sat down, he realized that
being alone with Derek maybe wasn’t the best plan of action, since this
definitely wasn’t happening.
Chapter End Notes
     I cannot thank you guys enough for the comments. Seriously, you have
     no idea how much they mean and make me wish I could WRITE FASTER for
     you!
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Sometimes things just don’t work out how you expect them to.
Like Stiles thinking that he would get to spend time with Derek, alone. Derek
had given him directions to the house that they would be working on, which was
basically in the middle of fucking nowhere, and Stiles was very surprised to
find multiple cars there. One of which was Scott’s.
What the fuck.
Stiles walked in to find Derek talking to some sort of construction worker. At
least that was what Stiles guessed he was because he was wearing a hard hat.
Jesus, they were going to be wearing hard hats? Derek saw Stiles and smiled,
holding out his hand as if saying ‘hold in a second’, so Stiles stood there
like an idiot. At least, he felt like an idiot as he stood there pouting
because he had wanted alone time with Derek, of which he was going to have none
of. This was some bullshit.
When Derek was done, he walked over to Stiles and failed at holding back a
smile, which totally made Stiles feel better and less like an idiot.
“Scott is upstairs sanding a wall-”
“What is he doing here?” Stiles asked, rather defensively considering Scott was
his best friend. Derek actually chuckled at him, cute. Real cute.
“Your father gave me his number, said you two were inseparable.” Thwarted by
the Sheriff, awesome.
“But he has asthma-” Stiles said, a bit worried about Scott ingesting that much
dust.
“We have masks,” Derek answered, crossing his arms. Oh god he was wearing a
wife beater and his muscles were just right there and Stiles wanted to fucking
jump him but there were people everywhere why the fuck were there people
everywhere? Jesus. “I want you to wear one too.”
“Alright,” Stiles whispered, because that was all he was able to manage. Derek
lead Stiles upstairs with his hand on Stiles’ back which, you know, could look
normal to any other human being, but Stiles felt like it was foreplay. He
melted against it, realizing that they hadn’t really physically touched since
the day before school started. He shuddered, stopping at the top of the stairs
and turning to face him. Derek stopped him, putting both hands on Stiles’
shoulders and steering him into the room that Scott was in.
“No, Stiles,” Derek said into his ear, which was not at all helpful. “Look who
I found!” He called out to Scott. Scott waved and started talking from beneath
the dust mask at an alarming rate, Stiles wasn’t exactly sure what was
happening but suddenly Derek handed him off to Scott and said something about
Scott explaining what they were doing. Derek fucking left him there.
Around 7:30, Derek came in, letting them know that pizza had been acquired.
They ate outside, at a gazebo that was a little worse for wear. The pizza was
fucking amazing after manual labor. Stiles was pretty sure he would have to
shower five times before he got all of the dust off of him. After dinner they
moved downstairs and started cleaning. It was filthy, dust and grime covered
everything. Stiles asked why the room upstairs looked better than the rest and
Derek told him that it had been his sister’s room, and that he had started
there, alone, and wanted it done first. He didn’t supply any other information
and Stiles didn’t probe for more, it wouldn’t really make sense because there
was nothing between them on the surface.
There would be no reason for him to care in the eyes of anyone else.
Derek was in the same room as them, scrubbing down walls. Stiles had to
basically rip his eyes from him in order to work on the baseboards with
murphy’s oil soap. On his hands and knees, he attempted to wipe them clean.
Elbow grease and patience were key, both of which he didn’t have.
“Hey Dere- Mr. Hale?” Stiles asked, getting Derek’s attention. Derek looked
over to him, his eyes going from Stiles’ face to his ass, since he was bent
over on his knees. Oh.
Oh, fuck yes, good plan. Derek waited for Stiles to continue. Stiles didn’t
move, but bit his bottom lip instead. Derek glared at him, almost about to go
back to scrubbing his wall. He was covered in sweat and dust and Stiles just
wanted to-
“I think that this board is rotted.” Derek walked over and bent down next to
him, his body a little too close. Stiles held his breath as Derek leaned his
face close to Stiles’ ear.
“Then how about you help me with the walls?” He suggested, whispering into
Stiles’ ear. Stiles gulped, nodding his head.
“Alright.”
Then, Derek decided that taking his shirt off needed to happen. Everything went
downhill from there, really. More like Stiles’ attention span was completely
shot. He had to excuse himself for a very, very long trip to the bathroom.
Fucking. Teenage. Hormones. When he walked out of the bathroom, Derek was
standing there, leaning against the wall nearest the door. He had his shirt
back on. Stiles couldn’t even look him in the eye.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Derek said. “I didn’t think about it. I was hot.”
Stiles shrugged.
“Not your fault I get hard at the drop of a dime,” he whispered, shoving his
hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Derek raked his teeth across his
bottom lip. Stiles shut his eyes, sighing. “This is a bit not good.”
“Just a bit, yeah.”
“How long are we working today?” Stiles asked.
“You can go home whenever you like,” Derek said, keeping his voice low. Stiles
shook his head.
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Stiles-”
“Can’t we just-”
“No. This was a mistake, there is too much tension. Being near you his hard, do
you get that?” Stiles nodded, looking away from him. He got that. “Calling you
was a mistake, texting is a mis-”
“Stop, stop,” Stiles begged. “Don’t take everything away from me.” He was dead
serious, his shoulders sagging. Derek stared at him, looking defeated. He
motioned with his head for Stiles to follow him and Stiles did just that. They
walked down the hall and into a bedroom on the left. Derek shut the door behind
him and Stiles thought for a second that he was going to ram him up against the
door right then and there but he didn’t. He didn’t do it.
“This has to stop, Stiles.”
“Can’t you just kiss me?”
“No.”
“But you want to-”
“That is beside point, just because I want to doesn’t mean that I should,”
Derek said as he ran fingers through his hair, exasperated. Stiles took a step
forward, but Derek but his hand up, denying him. “You can come work on the
house, if you stopped after one day that would look weird. Use it to hang out
with your best friend,” Stiles nodded, unable to stop from gnawing on his
bottom lip. He didn’t like where this was going. “We are not texting, we are
not calling each other, and we are not, let me repeat this, we are not hooking
up.”
“This is such shit-”
“The Sheriff’s son, Stiles.” Stiles growled. “Don’t fight me on this.” l
When Stiles got home, he showered until the water went cold. It didn’t matter
how much he scrubbed, he still felt dirty. He dismissed all of his homework,
foregoing it for Fatal Frame. He needed a distraction and scaring the shit out
of himself was good enough for now. He passed out in his dad’s chair with the
game and all the lights still on. His father shook him awake when he came in at
four in the morning.
“Come on, buddy,” he whispered, pulling Stiles to his feet and leading him
upstairs. His dad had turned off the tv, the console, and all of the lights
except for the one leading up the stairs. He must have known something had
Stiles down, because he didn’t reprimand him for wasting electricity, or
staying up late. Stiles felt like when he was little, when his dad would pick
him up and he would put his head on his dad’s shoulder as he brought him
upstairs, too tired to climb the stairs himself. He fell into bed, letting his
dad cover him with his sheets. “Rough day?” He asked. Stiles nodded, sniffing
back his feelings. He couldn’t help it. In the back of his mind he thought
that, deep down, Derek would give in. He was wrong, and it hurt.
It hurt so much.
“Did something happen at the Hale’s house?” He asked, his hand rubbing Stiles’
back. It had been years since he had sat at the edge of Stiles’ bed. Not since-
Stiles sniffed again, shaking his head no.
“It’s just a lot of stuff piling up,” Stiles managed to get out.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Stiles nodded, burying his
head in his pillow. He could, but not about this. This, Derek would lose his
job over. Stiles sighed, closing his eyes. Eventually his dad stood and shut
his door. Stiles heard him walk down the hall and eventually shut his own door.
It took him an hour to fall back asleep, his mind wouldn’t turn off.
The rest of the week flew by. School, ignore Derek in class, work, Scott time,
homework, sleep. Repeat. It worked well until Friday, when Derek- Mr. Hale
asked him to stay after. Stiles, his jaw set, did so begrudgingly. With his
hands shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie, he sighed as he stood in
front of Derek’s desk.
“You haven’t turned in a single homework assignment all week,” Derek stated.
Stiles answered with silence. Derek sighed audibly, obviously frustrated. “You
cannot act out by not doing work, Stiles. It doesn’t work like that.” Nope, not
talking. Not saying anything. Shove it. Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles,
standing. “If you don’t bring in those assignments by Monday, they will be
zeros.”
Stiles stared at him, his face stoic.He shrugged in response. He got points for
this being the longest conversation that he had no part in. Silence for the
mother fucking win. It was agitating Derek, which surprisingly didn’t make
Stiles feel any better. He just couldn’t win.
“Stiles-”
“Alright, fine,” Stiles snapped. “Monday. Got it. Can I go?” He asked, looking
down at his own shoes because really, Derek’s face was a little too much. Vests
and glasses and sleeves rolled up. Fuck him.
“You may.”
Stiles stormed out of the room, his heart beating fast. He was angry. Angry at
himself for thinking that for once he could be happy. He should have stuck with
his crush on Lydia. At least with that he knew it wouldn’t happen. With Derek
it had happened, and it was taken away. It felt a million times worse.
He slept most of the weekend away, went to the movies with Scott, went to
stupid conditioning practice, worked, and did his fucking English homework. He
handed it in without a word before the bell rang, in a pile stapled together.
Every practice essay he somehow twisted the prompt into betrayal and
heartbreak. Because he was evil and he wanted Derek upset. He wanted him upset
like he was upset. Derek was so stoic, so closed off. He wanted to get a
reaction out of him. He wanted something.
“Today in class we are going to discuss A Farewell to Arms which you should
have finished by today.” Groans filled the room, Stiles included. Stupid,
fucking Hemingway and his refusal to say who was speaking and not describing
shit and- “Everyone take out your books, I have a few quotations that I would
like to point out.”
Stiles didn’t have his book. He didn’t bring it. It was at home, on his desk,
sitting there haunting him. He sat in silence, looking at his hands, hoping
that Derek didn’t look up, didn’t look at him. He had no reason to look at hi-
“Mr. Stilinski, where is your book?” Such an asshole. Derek was a fucking
asshole.
“I don’t have it with me,” Stiles said truthfully, his hand rubbing the back of
his neck. “Left it at home.”
“Did you read it?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, looking down at his hands. Being
under scrutiny in front of the whole class was different than being alone in a
room with Derek. He didn’t like it. “What were your thoughts?” Stiles sighed,
licking his lips as he thought for a moment.
“I thought that the theme of stoicism that was throughout the novel was
complete crap,” Stiles started, taking a deep breath before continuing in order
to keep his voice from fluctuating. “He distances himself from feeling things
like honor and then he pledges love to a woman he barely knows. And yeah, so
they both use each other as a distraction and it gets kind of messed up there
for a while, but it kind of works too.” He takes a breath, noticing that Derek
is watching him intently from the front of the room . “I think that if Henry
would have showed his emotions then things would have turned out differently.
He should have allowed himself to feel everything instead of trying to hide
them. What is the point of humanity if we can’t express feelings, our
emotions?”
“He did express his emotions,” Derek cut in, leaning against the wall in the
corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. “Didn’t you see that Henry
couldn’t bear to be away from Catherine?” Stiles smiles bitterly then shrugged.
“I guess. But what does it teach us? That nothing lasts. She and the baby die,
and Henry just leaves and goes back to his hotel, alone. Again. Nothing lasts.
People die,” Stiles’ voice cracks over the word 'die' because he couldn’t help
but think of his mother, and how she wasn’t here anymore and his dad is alone
because nothing ever fucking lasts. Stiles stares at Derek and kind of
deflates. “Maybe Henry just wanted something good in his life for once even if
it did cause him problems,” he finished in a whisper with his eyes focused on
his hands.
“You do realize you switched sides on that argument, right?” Lydia pointed out
from across the room. Stiles didn’t look up for the rest of the class, tuning
out the discussion. He covered his eyes with his hand briefly, hoping that his
emotions weren’t plastered across his face.
Friday night there was a party and Scott really wanted to go. He practically
begged to, so Stiles gave in. He told his dad that he was spending the night at
Scott’s, because it was true. He just didn’t tell him that he was also going to
a party. Whatever. He wanted to get drunk, and that was the only way he had
access to alcohol that wasn’t his dad’s. And his dad would notice if half of
his Jim Beam went missing. He had to work in the morning, but he didn’t care.
He could sleep when he got off work, before he was due to go to Derek’s. To
work.
It made him drink more, thinking about being around Derek. Yeah, he went and
Derek always had him working on something in a different room than him, always
with Scott but that wasn’t the point. It didn’t help him, any. He was in
Derek’s house, near him. They didn’t talk, really. Derek talked to Scott, which
made Stiles feel worse.
That was not how he wanted to spend his Saturday.
So, drinking. Drinking was good. Alcohol made him warm, made him feel fuzzy.
Dulled his feelings by playing beer pong and flip cup. He was awesome at flip
cup, the master. His team one three times in a row, actually. Then he needed to
sit down, because beer. A lot of beer. The room spun, which was new, but Stiles
ignored it. Scott was off, semi talking to Allison, which wasn’t new at all.
Before Stiles knew it, his phone was out in his hand and he didn’t even blink
before he called Derek.
It wasn’t until Derek picked up that Stiles even realized what he had done.
“Stiles?” Derek asked, his voice gravely from sleep. Stiles had no idea what
time it was, at all. For all he knew, it was only eleven. Or it could be three
in the morning? He didn’t know.
“You know, no. Nope. Nevermind.”
“Are you drunk?” Derek asked, and Stiles heard rustling.
“Yeah, definitely. Very. Flip cup.” Derek sighed into the receiver.
“Do you need a ride home?” Derek asked, as if he cared. Stiles made a face.
“No, I only take rides from people who care,” he said, pouting as he looked at
his empty cup. “I don’t have any more beer in my cup.”
“You probably don’t need more.”
“How- why am I on the phone?” Stiles asked.
“You called me.” Stiles laughed.
“You know, you know what?” Stiles asked, picking at the couch absentmindedly.
He didn’t wait for a response from Derek before continuing on, though “I think
that this is bullshit-”
“Stiles, don’t-”
“I’m a consenting fucking adult, okay? If I can drink I think I can decide for
myself if I want to be fucked-”
“Where is the party, Stiles?” Derek asked, his voice stern.
“My pants.” Derek was quiet for a moment, waiting for the real answer.
“Lydia’s.”
“I’m coming, wait for me outside.” Derek hung up and Stiles sat there, staring
at his phone for a moment before it dawned on him: Derek was coming to get him.
Chapter End Notes
     thank you to lsdme who helped me with A Farewell to Arms and Stiles'
     speech. Guh, that boy.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles sat at the side of the curb, his chin on his knees as he looked down at
his shoes, waiting. He waited. Scott was inside, with Allison. They were
kissing and it hurt. It hurt because Scott got to kiss who he liked and Stiles
didn’t. He should be happy that Scott was kissing Allison but he just couldn’t
find it in him in his inebriated state. When he saw Derek’s camaro pull forward
he brushed his lips against his jeans, swallowing. This was too much, all too
much. Derek got out of the car, which surprised Stiles. He was out in the open,
helping Stiles up and bringing him over to his car.
“Come on,” he urged. Stiles complied, his mouth open as Derek opened the
passenger door for him.
“Scott is kissing Allison,” Stiles said as he was placed in the car. He waited
for Derek to get back in before he continued on, “he is kissing her and I was
there, you know, and my cup was empty and there was a couch-”
“Stiles, put your seatbelt on.” Stiles sat, unmoving. Derek sighed, leaning
over and grabbing the seatbelt himself, buckling Stiles in. Stiles grunted, but
said nothing. Actually, he stayed silent the entire car ride. Thoughts rolled
through his mind, all about Derek, but he said none of them. Apparently somehow
a word filter had been turned on without him realizing it. “Want me to drop you
off at home?”
“No, oh god no,” Stiles said, reaching forward and putting his hands on the
dashboard.
“Why?” Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes wide.
“Because I am smashed and I am supposed to be spending the night at Scott’s and
my dad doesn’t know I was at a party.”
“Jesus,” Derek said, sighing. “Fine, alright.”
Derek took Stiles to his apartment. If Stiles wasn’t so drunk he would have
done some sort of congratulatory dance but... drunk. Very drunk. Sitting did
not help.
 
“What time is it?” Stiles asked as Derek helped him into his apartment.
“It’s only one,” Derek said as if Stiles hadn’t woken him up when he drunk
dialed him. But he totally had. Derek was in a plain white shirt, sweat pants,
and was wearing his glasses. Stiles wanted to bite him. Instead, he plopped
down on the couch where Derek wanted him to go.
“I’ve got work at five,” Stiles whined. “My car is at Lydia’s.”
“We’ll deal with it in the morning, drink this and take these.” Derek handed
Stiles a tall glass of water and two ibuprofen. Stiles did as he was told,
halfway through the glass of water he stopped drinking, though. “Drink all of
it, now.” Once Stiles was done, Derek refilled it and reached his hand out for
Stiles to take.
Derek pulled him to his feet.
“Where are we going?” Stiles asked, looking at his hand in Derek’s.
“Bed, come on.” Bed, Derek’s bed. He was going in Derek’s bed? Derek put the
glass of water by the side of the bed, on a night stand. He pulled down the
covers, then put his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, pushing him so that he sat
down on the edge of the bed. “Sleep, or you’ll regret it in the morning. And
drink that first,” he said, pointing at the glass of water. Stiles drank the
water, all of it, then stood up and took his jeans off, well, he tried. He
forgot he had shoes on and sort of fell then took his shoes off as he laid on
the ground, then he took his jeans off. “Stiles, what are you doing?” Derek
asked, already in bed.
“Fucking, jeans.”
Stiles climbed into the bed, taking his hoodie off and tossing it to the ground
so that he would be more comfortable. His head hit the pillow, then he sighed.
“Derek-”
“Hmm?” Derek asked as he turned the light off from his nightstand. Stiles
swallowed, scared about what he might say and what Derek might respond with.
“This still isn’t happening?” He asked. His voice wavered, but he blamed the
alcohol. So much alcohol. Derek shifted, turning towards Stiles in the bed.
“Because this” he said, making a hand motion between them, “this, I want-”
Derek placed a hand on Stiles’ chest, his thumb tapping gently against his
shirt.
“You need to go to sleep,” Derek whispered. “You are drunk, and if this is
happening? It won’t be when you are smashed.” Stiles bit his lip, willing
himself not to be drunk. He didn’t want to be drunk anymore, for fuck’s sake.
He wanted to be sober because he was in bed with Derek and he had his hand on
him and he just really wanted to be sober and the room was spinning and
everything was hard. He swallowed, nodding. He reached up, though, and
intertwined his fingers with Derek’s, holding his hand. Derek didn’t pull away,
like Stiles was afraid he might do. No, he squeezed Stiles’ hand and sighed
audibly, defeated.
Derek’s alarm was loud, and annoying. So fucking annoying because holy shit
that is a mother fucking headache. Dead, dying. Stiles was dying. He refused to
open his eyes but then he remembered where he was. He was in Derek’s bed. Derek
shifted, turning the alarm off but otherwise he didn’t move, not yet. Stiles
opened his eyes slowly, realizing that his face was buried against Derek’s
shoulder, that Derek had his arm around Stiles and that Stiles had a leg draped
over-
Oh, he was comfortable. He didn’t want to move, so he didn’t. He stayed there,
feeling the rise and fall of Derek’s chest. His fingers gripped Derek’s shirt
as he shifted slightly, pulling in closer because Derek wasn’t pushing him
away.
“You should shower before work,” Derek whispered. Stiles groaned. “You smell
like a party.”
“I’m not moving.”
“Yes, you are,” Derek said, getting up. Stiles moaned at the sudden loss of
contact. “You shower, I’ll make toast and coffee.”
With the promise of Derek making breakfast, Stiles stumbled into the bathroom.
He showered, using Derek’s everything. He smelled like Derek. Jesus, he smelled
just like Derek and his body reacted to it. Thank god he hadn’t woken up with
morning wood or he would have been too embarrassed to move. He put his clothes
back on, then set out trying to find a spare toothbrush. He opened the medicine
cabinet and then the cupboards underneath the sink. His jaw dropped when he saw
lube and condoms. Of course Derek would have them, but the sight of them had
him just... horny. There was no other word for it. He wanted Derek so much and
the fact that he had slept in his bed and that he now smelled like him was a
little overwhelming.
“Stiles, are you coming down?” Derek called from the kitchen. Stiles scrambled,
shutting the cupboard, rinsing his mouth with mouthwash quickly since he didn’t
find a toothbrush.
“Sorry, I was... looking for a toothbrush,” he said as he sat down, his cheeks
flushed. Derek looked at him, comprehension dawning on his face.
“Oh, I’ll... I’ll get you one. They are in the hallway closet.” Derek walked
away and Stiles gulped, eating his toast and drinking the coffee without
moving. Derek appeared with a brand new toothbrush in his hand and put it down
next to Stiles’ plate on the table. “If you hurry, we can go get your Jeep.”
The car ride was silent, except for the radio. Somehow Stiles didn’t feel good
about what had happened, about how he called Derek, how they slept in the same
bed. Because Derek wasn’t looking at him, now. He wasn’t looking at him and
wasn’t saying anything. Stiles’ Jeep was where he left it, thankfully. At least
something was going right. Derek pulled up to it and Stiles opened the door.
Before he got out, Derek grabbed hold of his hoodie, stilling him.
“Are you coming to the house, later?”
“Do you want me to?” Stiles asked. “I mean it, Derek. This is getting hard, too
hard. I don’t think I can-”
“Yes, I want you to come.” Stiles felt like a weight lifted off of his
shoulders.
“Are you going to banish me to a corner of the house where you’ll never set
foot?”
“No.” Stiles sat there, one hand on the half open door as Derek held onto him.
“Shut the door.” Stiles did. Derek pulled on him, bringing him closer. Their
lips crashed together, both moaning as their tongues touched, as they opened
their mouths. Derek’s grip on his hoodie lessened as the kiss ended. “We’re
going to work on the same room today.”
“Oh-okay,” Stiles stammered, getting out of the car. Derek drove off and Stiles
jumped in the air in victory. He had slept in Derek’s bed, got a kiss, and had
a semi-not-really-date in Derek’s childhood bedroom to look forward to. Things
were looking up.
He pulled up to the coffee shop with a few minutes to spare, thankfully, to
find out that he wasn’t working with Isaac, but with Erica. He rarely worked
with her, and his brows creased in confusion.
“Someone looks a bit hungover,” she said, smirking. Stiles raised an eyebrow.
“And you didn’t go home last night, either.”
“How’d you-”
“I was there, I saw how smashed you were. You just... disappeared.” Stiles
shrugged, tying his apron. That was when he noticed his hands shaking a bit.
“Shit,” he whispered.
“What?” She asked, looking at him. “Did you forget to take something?” She
asked. She would know what side effects to missing a dosage of something would
look like, of course she would with how many pills she had to take. Stiles bit
his lip, sighing.
“Yeah, I didn’t go home.”
“Do you need to go?” She asked. Stiles shook his head, ignoring the jittery
feelings he was having. He didn’t take his dosage yesterday afternoon, either.
That is two. Fuck a duck. He couldn’t call his dad, he would be livid that
Stiles missed two doses in a row.
“Nah, I’ll call Scott later and have him go get some for me.”
And he did, around eleven. Scott showed up around noon with the entire bottle,
which Stiles almost smacked him over the head for. His dad would definitely
notice the medication missing and ask him about it but he wasn’t about to
complain to Scott about it. He popped two, even though he knew he shouldn’t.
His nerves were shot and he had coffee and his limbs currently had a mind of
their own. He spent twenty minutes jumping around the shop for no reason even
though he had a headache because he just couldn’t stop moving. He had talked
Erica’s ear off and he was pretty sure she really didn’t care about how his
campaign was going on his online game he was playing with strangers on the
internet.
Erica took her break as soon as Scott showed up.
“Oh, thank god. You talk to him,” she said as she rushed out back.
“Where’d you go last night?” Scott asked, leaning on the counter. Thankfully,
there was a lull in business for the moment. Stiles shrugged. “Your car was
still there when I left.”
“Uh, I... called Derek.” Scott still didn’t know that his Derek was Mr. Hale
Derek. Hopefully he wouldn’t put two and two together.
“Oh? I thought you guys were done.” Thank god Scott was a dumbass. Stiles
shrugged again.
“I... drunk dialed him? I don’t know what is going on.”
“Allison and I hooked up,” Scott said, changing the subject. Allison was
definitely a safer subject to talk about, so Stiles let Scott tell him all
about how he and Allison made out in her car and then she drove him home.
“That’s awesome, Scotty,” Stiles said, meaning it. Scott had had a crush on her
for how long? Since their sophomore year. All Stiles knew was that he only had
two hours left and he was buzzing and his headache was fading and he was going
to see Derek. “Are you going to Mr. Hale’s today?”
“I can’t, I’m going into work in like, an hour.” Stiles looked Scott up and
down. He was in sweats and a baseball cap. “Yeah, I know, I need to go change.”
Stiles smiled, nodding his head. “But at least I changed from what I was
wearing last night.”
“Ha. ha.” Stiles said as Scott walked off.
Two o’clock didn’t come soon enough. Stiles rushed home, putting his medication
back where it normally lived, then ran upstairs to change clothes. He made it
out to the old Hale house in record timing. Stiles was ready to work, he was
even wearing an old shirt, covered in paint from when he and his dad painted
the master bedroom of their house, and his oldest pair of jeans with holes in
the knees.
What Stiles wasn’t prepared for was the fact that no other cars were there,
except for Derek’s. Oh, shit. He was not expecting that. The front door was
open, so Stiles walked in without knocking. There was music playing upstairs
that Stiles followed in order to find Derek.
Derek was shirtless in what used to be his bedroom. It was freshly painted, the
carpet ripped off the floor and thrown away. A new roll was waiting to be put
down. Stiles stood at the door, clearing his throat to get Derek’s attention.
Derek turned, wiping his hands on his low riding jeans. Oh, god.
“You came.”
“Well, duh.” Derek walked over to Stiles, gripping the back of his neck. Stiles
knew where things were headed, and closed his eyes for it. The kiss was
electrifying. They walked out of Derek’s room until Derek had him pinned
against the hallway wall, pushing him up the wall enough that he could wrap his
legs around Derek’s waist. And he did. Oh, fuck yes he did. Derek gave in and
there was no way he wasn’t going to go to town on him. Their kisses were messy,
sloppy, and not all on the mouth. Their jaws, cheeks, and noses got kissed,
their lips finding each other momentarily before moving on. Derek ripped
Stiles’ shirt, which made Stiles moan Derek’s name, in order to suck and lap at
Stiles’ shoulder while Stiles marked Derek’s neck. They stayed there, Stiles
pressed against the wall, Derek holding him up by his ass, for a while. Neither
wanted to stop, neither wanted anything else.
Finally, when Stiles came up for air, he rolled his hips, wanting more contact.
That was when Derek put him down, raking his fingers through his own hair,
taking a deep breath.
“We need to talk.”
“No, I don’t like the sound of that at all,” Stiles said, flat out. Derek
laughed, extending his hand out and grabbing Stiles by the neck. Oh, that
bastard definitely knew about the whole neck thing.
“Not a bad talk, we need to talk about this happening.” Stiles looked up at
Derek, his eyes wide.
“Really? This is happening?”
“Sort of.” Stiles made an unamused face, his lips pressed together. “You’re a
minor... and I am definitely not.”
“I just-”
“No coming,” Derek spat out.
“What?” Stiles asked. Derek’s hand was still on him, so that had to count for
something but Stiles really needed to have this explained, fast.
“We can spend time together, but no... coming. I can’t make you come and you
can’t make me come. That’s the only way... I can see that it won’t lead to
something that I can get fired for, sort of.”
“I don’t like that.” Derek’s hand dropped from his neck and Stiles whimpered,
wanting it back. “I mean, can’t we just... how about-” shit he was about to
just start spouting stuff just to see what he could get away with, “what about
jacking off together?”
“No.”
“What if I come... like.. from kissing?” Stiles even laughed. “Ok don’t answer
that, that is dumb.”
“Stiles, I want you just as much as you want me, believe me-”
“Pfft.”
“It is this or nothing.” Derek said seriously. “Take it or leave it.”
“Chinese food and horror movies?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded. “And making out.”
Again, Derek nodded. “With clothes on.”
“Yes, clothes on.”
“Should I be worried about you ripping more shirts, or?”
“I got a bit carried away.” Stiles grinned. Yeah he did. Stiles wanted him to
do it again if he was being perfectly honest with himself.
“So, can we go back to making out? Are we done talking now?” Stiles asked,
taking a step towards Derek. Derek laughed, nodding as he kissed him.
Chapter End Notes
     The response I have gotten over this fic seriously has me blushing,
     thanks to all who have commented! It means the world to me :)
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
One thing that Stiles didn’t think about in regards to Derek was how he should
act, now. He walked into class on Monday and didn’t know where to sit. Should
he go to the front where whatever he did would be seen by the entire class, or
should he go to the back where he could stare openly and no one would think
twice? In the back Derek couldn’t see him as well, either. That is a lot to
decide on first thing on a Monday morning and he wasn’t sure he was up for it.
He settled on sitting in the middle of the room, next to Lydia. The first thing
they did was pass up their essays on A Farewell to Arms. Stiles had stayed up
late finishing his, since he had stayed at Derek’s until his curfew. They
watched the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Well, they watched part of it.
There wasn’t much watching going on, to be frank.
Stiles cleared his throat, trying to brush mental pictures of the night before
from his mind. Limbs tangled as he was pressed against the couch, Derek
hovering over him as they made out. Touching, lots of touching. Stiles bit his
lip, shaking his head. Now was not the time to think about it, because that
would lead to a-
Well, that was unfortunate. Stiles sat up straight, hoping no one would notice.
He was doing well until he heard Lydia speak up.
“Is that a hickey? Does Mr. Hale have a hickey on his neck? Someone had fun
this weekend....” Stiles looked up and dear god, he gave Derek a hickey on his
neck, the collar barely hid it. Stiles grunted, covering his mouth. His cock
throbbed between his legs, obviously reacting to Stiles marking Derek. He had
marked him as his and the whole class could see it.
That was so hot, he couldn’t handle it. Derek with his collared shirt and
glasses and khakis and a mother fucking hickey on his neck. Stiles couldn’t
stop staring at it as Derek moved around, writing on the white board. He should
have been taking notes, should have written down the assignment. He heard Derek
say something about Frankenstein, which will be fucking awesome, but he wasn’t
sure what exactly he said because he zoned out. He didn’t even hear the bell
ring he was so out of it. He smiled at Derek as he left, getting one last look
at his neck before he walked out of the room.
The week went by in a flash. School, work, Derek, homework, sleep etc and etc.
Less video games, more making out. Scott was busy with Allison so Stiles didn’t
really feel bad about the lack of time spent with his best friend. Friday night
they hung out, but he texted Derek the whole time. Again, Scott was doing the
exact same thing with Allison. It was weird, sort of being in a relationship.
Sort of, because nothing was official. There were no ‘so... boyfriends?
dating?’ talks. There were movies, pizza, ice cream, and make outs. Lots of
kissing and groping. Stiles liked the groping even though it gave him constant
blue balls. He knew, though, that the same thing was happening to Derek. They
were doing it to themselves but Derek was pretty adamant about the no coming
rule. Stiles had come close to it, a few times, despite the ‘keep your clothes
on’ rule considering Derek tended to slip his hands underneath fabric anyways.
He was such a fucking cheater.
Saturday, Stiles worked, as always. Story of his life, more like. His dad
requested that he not work at Mr. Hale’s house that night, which Stiles got mad
about for approximately two point five seconds until he realized why.
It was his Mother’s birthday.
Stiles and his dad always made sure that they weren’t working, that they spent
the day together. Stiles shot Derek a text, telling him what was up. Derek, of
course, understood completely. Stiles and his dad made dinner together, his
mother’s famous homemade Fettuccine Alfredo. They only ate it once a year,
taking the recipe card out of her recipe box. It was stained from years of use,
a corner was even bent. Stiles always teared up, when he saw his dad bring out
the box from the master bedroom. It was hard, remembering. Remembering how she
loved to cook, how she always made the most amazing food and how now they
mostly ate take out. Dinner was made while listening to Billy Joel music, her
favorite. They used her CD’s and sang at the top of their lungs, rather
horribly, to Uptown Girl, We Didn’t Start the Fire, and Under Pressure. After
dinner they watched a movie. She loved Forrest Gump, and always made them watch
it on Thanksgiving, of all the holidays to watch it on. She always put it on
while she was cooking, putting it on loud enough so that she could hear it from
the kitchen. Now, Stiles couldn’t hear a quote from it without thinking about
her.
He could only stand to watch it on her birthday, now. Once a year was enough,
and he had his dad with him. He curled up on the couch, wrapped himself up in a
blanket as he watched it, whispering his favorite quotes as the movie went on.
He closed his eyes, thinking about the lines his mother said along with the
movie, her favorite parts.
“Lieutenant Dan, ice cream!” had always been one of her favorite lines. She
loved Tom Hanks, in general. His dad always bought her the latest Tom Hanks
movie for Christmas, it was a sort of thing with them. Apparently, their first
date had been to see Big at the movie theatre, as his dad reminded him every
year. Without fail, though, his dad would fall asleep during Forrest Gump. He
usually didn’t make it past Jenny and Forrest in DC, when she ran through the
water. Stiles watched the whole thing, though. He couldn’t make himself get up
off the couch, despite his dad’s snores.
Once the credits rolled, though, he went upstairs and crawled into bed,
swallowing back his emotions as he dialed Derek’s number, pulling his covers up
over his head.
“Hey,” Derek’s voice said over the receiver. He sounded sad, as if he knew how
Stiles would feel if he called.
“Hey,” he whispered back, his voice cracking just a little.
“How was dinner?”
“Sad and happy all at once. It was like she was there, you know?”
“I know. I... know exactly how you feel.”
“It’s just the fucking, the fucking Billy Joel music. Her recipe box,” Stiles
let tears fall because it hurt so much, still, despite the number of years it
has been. “Why can’t I listen to Piano Man without crying like a baby?”
“Because it’s your mom.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called just to cry to you. It was dumb.”
“It’s not dumb Stiles, you call who you care about if you’re sad. It is what
you’re supposed to do.” Stiles nodded, burying his head in his pillow. “It just
means you’re comfortable with me, with us.”
“Us,” Stiles whispered.
“Exactly.”
Stiles talked to Derek on the phone until he fell asleep. When he woke up, his
phone was still pressed against his ear although the call had ended sometime in
the night. Thankfully, he had a full day to keep him busy.
The work on the Hale house was coming to a close and Stiles was starting to
panic. He was spending a lot of time with Derek, and he wasn’t sure what he
would do once work on the house was done. Derek was moving out of his apartment
and into the larger house, which was both good and bad. Good, because it would
be out of town and there was less of a chance that Stiles would be spotted with
his teacher, and bad because well, it was out of town and farther from his
house, meaning less time with Derek.
Scott was becoming suspicious because he had asked to see a picture of Derek,
of which Stiles had none. No pictures, for obvious reasons. He also wanted to
meet him, which was not possible. Nope, not happening. It meant that Stiles was
becoming more secretive, there was no way around it. If Scott knew exactly who
Derek was, it would all be over because his face always gave everything away.
He was unable to keep secrets period and this was a secret that needed to be
kept.
Stiles was helping Derek pack, which meant piling all of Derek’s books into
boxes and labeling them. Oh yes, labeling. They put on music, and Derek had a
glass of wine. Apparently packing was something that Derek was used to doing,
because he knew exactly how he wanted everything put away.
“My family used to move around a lot, I actually don’t have a lot of stuff.”
“You call this ‘not a lot of stuff’?” Stiles asked, looking around at the room
covered in boxes.
“These are books, not stuff.”
“Yeah okay whatever you say,” Stiles joked, taping up a box. Derek smiled to
himself, taking a sip of wine. Stiles didn’t like wine, at all. He didn’t like
the taste. But then again, he didn’t like the taste of beer either but you had
to drink it to get drunk and drunk was fun. No alcohol for him in front of
Derek, though.
“I don’t think so, Stiles,” he had said, which Stiles rolled his eyes at. “I am
not supplying my minor boyfriend with alcohol.”
“Haha, you said boyfriend,” Stiles retorted, not caring an ounce about the lack
of alcohol because Derek had just called him his boyfriend. Small victories.
Derek rolled his eyes as he looked at Stiles, his lips pursed.
“I did, do you think we aren’t?”
“No, no. We totally are. Totally. I just didn’t think you thought that. I
didn’t want to bring it up I was being a stupid teenager.”
“You aren’t a stupid teenager, your essays show me exactly how smart you are.”
Stiles blushed, but said nothing. “Even when you were mad at me and only half-
assed your homework.”
“Yeah, well. If my grades slipped I’d be in deep shit, so.” Derek walked over,
kissing Stiles. It deepened quickly, Stiles grabbing onto Derek’s shirt as he
pressed a leg between Derek’s as they stood. Stiles’ hands slid down, his palms
against Derek’s stomach. God, he just really fucking wanted to just-
He did it anyways. His hand slipped beneath the fabric of Derek’s jeans,
teasing the hair of his happy trail. Derek groaned and Stiles waited for Derek
to push him away. When he didn’t, Stiles unbuttoned the jeans, shoving his hand
under Derek’s boxer briefs, gripping him in his hand. Stiles gasped against
Derek’s mouth, happy he wasn’t being shoved away. He wanted this, he wanted to
make Derek come. Oh, please. Please don’t make him stop. Derek cupped Stiles
face in his hands as the kiss ended, turning his head so that he could press
his lips against Stiles’ neck. Stiles moaned, closing his eyes as he worked
Derek with his hand, as Derek mouthed at his tender flesh, scraping against
Stiles’ neck with his teeth.
“Can we please just-” Stiles started but then Derek’s mouth was on his again
and he wasn’t about to complain about that. He quickened his pace and Derek was
thrusting his hips against Stiles’ fist.
“Shh, just, dammit, Stiles,” Derek growled, taking a step back. Stiles
whimpered, he didn’t even care what it sounded like. Derek’s hand was on his
neck and he was about to explode in his pants and Derek made him stop jacking
him off and he wasn’t happy about it. Derek didn’t seem to happy either,
though.
“Derek, let me-”
“No.”
Stiles clenched his jaw, disappointment played across his features.
“This is ridiculous. You’re dripping-”
“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek said, his chest heaving as he rebuttoned his jeans.
Stiles gnawed on his bottom lip, scratching the back of his neck, wishing he
still had his hands on Derek. “I need a minute.” Stiles watched as Derek walked
into his bedroom, leaving the door open. He stood there, for a moment,
contemplating following him. His brain said no, but his cock was in charge at
the moment and it didn’t give a flying fuck what his brain wanted.
He followed Derek into his room to find him sitting on his bed, head down and
hand wrapped around his own cock. He looked at Stiles, his chin down, and
groaned. Stiles came forward, dropping to his knees, spreading Derek’s knees so
he could fit between them. Stiles put his hands on Derek’s thighs, tilting his
head upwards. Their lips brushed together for only a second before Stiles’
hands moved up his thighs, pushing Derek’s hand out of the way. Stiles bent
over, taking Derek into his mouth. Derek leaned back so he could watch as
Stiles lapped at him, bobbing his head as Derek’s cock filled his mouth.
Derek’s hand on the back of Stiles’ neck sent shivers down his spine as his
mouth worked him. Stiles could taste precome and it made him ache. He too,
needed release and he didn’t want it to be from his own hand. He wanted it to
be Derek who made him come.
He cupped Derek’s balls in his hand as he took him as far down as he could
without choking. He came up for air, swallowing hard as he gasped, looking up
at Derek. He wrapped his hand around Derek’s cock, stroking it slowly as Derek
kissed him again, cupping his face in his hands once more. He loved when he did
that, when Derek’s stubble scraped his skin. He put a hand on Derek’s chest,
climbing up onto the bed. Derek laid down on his back as Stiles pushed his
jeans down. Derek silently watched him as he stepped out of them then rid
himself of his boxers. Stiles gulped as he climbed on top of Derek, pressing
his cock against Derek’s, gripping both of them at once. Derek groaned, rolling
his hips against the contact. Stiles licked his lips, closing his eyes as both
of his hands wrapped around them both, jacking them together. God, he was
already so fucking close and it felt fucking amazing. The friction had him
panting, gasping for air. Derek put his hands over Stiles’, picking up the pace
of his ministrations. Stiles hips moved along with their hands, both of them
fucking their fists. Stiles moaned, biting down hard on his lip. He was coming,
even though he wished it lasted longer, so much longer. He felt it building,
fast and there was nothing he could do to stop it. With another shuddering
breath he came, riding it out as he kept moving. Completely spent and over
sensitized, he pulled away. Derek was jacking himself off, watching Stiles lay
down next to him. Stiles leaned over, kissing him. Derek groaned into the kiss
and he was coming, making a mess of his chest.
Stiles stayed on the bed as Derek got a washcloth, cleaning them both off.
Afterwards, he crawled back into bed with him, wrapping his arms around Stiles,
his lips pressing against Stiles’ forehead. Stiles was tired, so tired. And
happy.
The happiest. They fell asleep, there, legs intertwined.
Chapter End Notes
     self-promo: I sort of don't follow many TW people on tumblr? *gasp* I
     know, I know. Crazy. Anyways, I am slipintothewater over there... so
     if you wanna follow me? :)
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter has graphic scenes of drug withdrawal.
Stiles woke up with sunlight shining on his face. He was on his side and
Derek’s arm was draped over his body. For a moment, he laid there contented.
Until he realized that it was daylight. He sat up, his eyes wide.
“Oh shit. Oh, fuck,” he muttered as he scrambled out of the bed, looking for
his jeans. Derek woke up, rubbing his eyes. “Derek I’m in so much shit right
now you have no fucking idea-” Stiles pulled on his shirt.
It was just after sunrise, 6:27am to be exact. Stiles dug his hand into his
pocket, looking at his phone. Ten missed calls, eight of which were from his
dad with two from Scott. There were also a slew of texts, all from Scott.
Stiles ran his fingers through his shirt, hyperventilating. Derek pulled on a
pair of pants and walked over to him, rubbing his back.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Stiles shook his head.
“Derek, I am so dead. I have nothing to tell him, what the fuck am I going to
tell him?” Stiles was so fucked and he knew it. He knew his dad probably called
the McCall’s when Stiles didn’t answer his phone and he knew that Scott
probably tried to cover for him and then his dad probably asked to speak with
Scott’s mom and for fuck’s sake it is Monday. They have school. He broke curfew
and stayed out all night on a school night.
“I don’t know, Stiles,” Derek sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe we should-”
“I am not telling him the truth. That is beyond fucked.” Stiles walked towards
the door. “I’ve got to go home. I’ll,uh- I’ll see you at school.”
Stiles got into his car and took a deep breath. He was shaking, so many fucking
missed doses. Shit, shit, fuck, god dammit. He debated calling his dad, or just
coming home and getting ripped a new one. Warn him, or not? Stiles dialed his
dad’s number.
“Stiles, where the fuck have you been?” Stiles swallowed, licking his lips.
“I can’t really explain what happened.”
“You better start now. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, yeah. Dad I am so, so sorry. I didn’t-”
“I am at the station, get your ass over here right now.”
“Dad I really need Adderall, I am shaking, can I just-” the Sheriff sighed
audibly. “How many doses have you missed.
“I missed some last week and now it is two more in a row, I feel sick.” He
actually felt like he was going to throw up, which was not pleasant. He wasn’t
sure if it was because of the medication, or because his dad was going to kill
him.
“I’ve got some at the station, get over here.”
Stiles sat in his Jeep for five minutes before he went in to the station. He
felt like everyone knew, everyone was looking at him as if he was walking on
death row. He wanted to put his hood up and hide. By far the longest walk to
his dad’s office ever. Sitting, waiting for him at his desk, was his dad. He
had a bottle of water and a pill by the chair that he wanted Stiles to sit in.
Fuck, fuck. Stiles sat down slowly, taking the pill and drinking the water.
“Explain.” Stiles sat, gathering his thoughts.
“I’ve... uh. I’ve got a boyfriend.” There. He said it. Jesus Christ that was
easier than he thought it would be. His dad’s eyebrows rose.
“Are you lying to me right now?” He asked. Stiles shook his head, looking down
at the bottle of water in his hands.
“We uh, I fell asleep at his house last night on accident. Total accident. I
swear to god I didn’t mean to do it.”
“You and a guy?” Stiles nodded. His dad sat there in silence for a while. “What
happened to that Lydia girl?”
“Dates the lacrosse captain.”
“This... boys... is this new?” Stiles shrugged. “Okay... just... give me your
phone.” Stiles’ eyes widened. He didn’t have pictures on it, but there were
texts. Oh, god. Texts. He didn’t have Derek’s last name in it but they talked
about assignments. Stiles hesitated, but the glare his father was giving him
made him hand it over. His dad took it, and turned it off. Well, at least he
had a passcode on it? He watched his dad put it in the his desk drawer. The
lockable one. “You’ll get this back... sometime.”
“How will you get ahold of me?” Stiles asked.
“I won’t need to, because you, young man, are grounded.”
“Oh.”
“Very grounded. You only get to keep your keys to your Jeep because you need it
to get to school, and to work. There will be no Scott, no going to help Mr.
Hale at his house, no video games, no phone, and internet will only be for an
hour a night. I am going to change the password to the wifi to make sure you
uphold it.” Stiles bristled.
“How long?” He asked in a whisper.
“Until I state otherwise.”
“What about... about me being-” Stiles was scared, until the look on his dad’s
face changed. There wasn’t anger there, just disappointment. Not disappointment
in him in having a boyfriend, though. Just in him scaring the shit out of his
dad.
“That, I want to talk about later when you’ve showered, changed, and I am not
in shock.” Stiles nodded slightly. “I am writing you a note so you can miss
first period. Go shower and change." Stiles’ eyes widened and he shook his
head.
“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll be okay.”
“You’re shaking from fucking up your medication, Stiles. I should just have you
stay home. Who knows what side effects are on the way?” Stiles felt like shit,
he felt worse than shit but he needed to see Derek. If he didn’t, if he
couldn’t explain what happened, he would have no way to contact him. “Go home,
shower, eat a big breakfast, then go to school. You haven’t missed any school
days yet, so missing one class won’t hurt.” Stiles nodded, defeated.
He rushed, though. He ate a bowl of cereal, showered, then brushed his teeth.
He felt ill, he sweat through a shirt before he was even out the door again. He
walked out holding another shirt, deciding to drive without one on in hopes of
his medication kicking in by the time he got to school. He had a headache and
he couldn’t calm down. He sat in his Jeep, his hands covering his face, hoping
that his heart rate would go down. He just came out to his father, told him
that he had a boyfriend the day after Derek even said that they were, in fact,
boyfriends. There was no way that this was going to go over well. He got out of
the Jeep, putting his shirt on. He walked into the office, handed the secretary
his dad’s note, but said nothing. She signed him in, then he headed to Derek’s
classroom. He walked slow, knowing there was only five minutes left until the
bell.
When he walked in, the entire class looked at him. He walked up to Derek and
swallowed as he handed over the note. He wasn’t going to look Derek in the eye,
but he decided to at the last second before he started walking to a seat.
“Are you alright, Stiles?” Derek asked. “You don’t look well.” Stiles probably
looked like shit, but he wanted to see Derek. Stiles shook his head, once.
“I’m fine.” Lies. All lies. Nothing was okay, nothing was fine. He sat down in
the only open seat, right in the middle of the fucking room. Thanks, guys.
Thanks. He put his head down on the desk, closing his eyes. He knew Derek
wouldn’t bother him, not really. He wanted to be in bed, he wanted another
shower. He wished his dad had given him two pills, even though he wasn’t
supposed to double up. But he knew, he knew that if he had just taken two that
the side effects wouldn’t be as bad now. Sure, he wouldn’t sleep tonight, but
to him that would have been worth it. He should have taken another one when he
got home but he just didn’t even think about the possibility. The bell rang and
everyone filed out of the classroom. Stiles didn’t move. Eventually, Derek
walked up to him and put his hand on Stiles’ neck. Stiles moaned, from both the
comfort of his touch and from distress over his situation.
“You’re burning up.”
“That’s what happens when you don’t take your meds.” Stiles mumbled. “I think I
am having a breakdown.”
“If you were having a breakdown I’d know it.” Stiles looked up at Derek, his
chest heaving.
“I’m grounded.”
“We knew that the moment you woke up,” Derek looked around, the room was still
empty, “in my bed.” Stiles nodded, wringing his fingers in his hands.
“I told my dad I had a boyfriend,” he swallowed, almost afraid to look at
Derek.
“Stiles-” Derek started to say, but someone walked in. “I’ll see you after
school, for detention.” Stiles looked up at him, his jaw falling open. Derek
glared at him, as if he was angry. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now go to the nurse,” Derek added. Stiles nodded, unable to hold back a smile.
Stiles went to the nurse and explained what happened with his meds. She had him
lay down while she called his dad. Awesome, yes, call the Sheriff because his
kid doesn’t know how to take medication to save his life. Fucking Adderall.
“Your father said he wanted you to stay home, Stiles,” the nurse told him.
Stiles nodded his head. He felt dizzy, nauseous.
“Well, I have a detention this afternoon.”
“With who, dear?”
“Mr. Hale.” This was some sort of fucking sick joke, wasn’t it? Someone up top
really hated him.
“I’ll phone him and tell him you can do it tomorrow, you are going home.”
Stiles sighed, shaking his head. He wanted that detention, so bad. “I am sure
he will understand, Mr. Hale is a nice man.” Stiles laughed, but coughed in
order to hide it. If only she knew.
The nurse called to Derek’s room, explaining the situation. She smiled at
Stiles as if she was helping him when she in fact, was ruining his day. “Mr.
Hale understands, sweetheart. He said tomorrow would do just fine.” Of course
he said that, what was he going to do? Demand to see his boyfriend? “Your
father is on his way, as well, to come get you and sign you out.”
Well that’s just great. He forgot that his dad would have to sign him out. He
fell asleep and before he knew it, he was shaken awake by his dad.
“Come on, Stiles. Let’s get you home.”
He got into the passenger side of his dad’s patrol car, sad to be leaving his
Jeep at school. “I called the coffee shop, you aren’t going in today.”
“Dad-”
“You need to get yourself sorted. You should be glad your symptoms aren’t
worse.”
“They’re getting worse,” Stiles mumbled, his eyes closed and face pressed
against the window. When they pulled up to the house, his dad helped get him up
the stairs and into the bathroom. As soon as the water turned on, Stiles
started crying. He couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t even warn his dad about it.
His body shook, he was crying so hard. His chest was heaving and he felt like
he was having a panic attack. He dry heaved, coughing. This was too much, it
was all too much. Derek, his dad, the secrets, being stupid about his meds.
Walls felt like they were closing in around him and he couldn’t stop them.
His dad got him into the shower, turning on the water, trying to calm him down.
Eventually, he was able to catch his breath. He was breathing as if he had the
hiccups, unable to get enough air into his lungs at one time from his freak
out. Thank god he wasn’t at school. He covered his eyes with a hand as he
pulled a leg close, resting his chin on it as he let the spray of the shower
lull him into a false sense of security. He knew his dad was there, sitting on
the toilet, watching him.
“I’m okay,” Stiles whispered. “You don’t need to watch over me, dad.”
“I do, I’m staying.” Stiles shook his head, letting tears fall freely, mixing
with the water of the shower. “I want you to know that I love you, and I don’t
care who you date. Boy, girl, I don’t care. You know that, right?” Stiles
nodded, hiding his head in his arms. “I don’t want you to think-”
“I’m fine. It’s the meds.”
“It’s got to be more than that, son.”
“I just want to be alone, dad, please.”
“Let’s get you out of the shower first, okay? Come on.” His dad turned off the
shower and helped him up, helped him strip down from the soaking wet clothes.
The Sheriff handed Stiles a towel, then let him dry himself off and let him
change. When he was done, Stiles crawled into bed, his breath still hitching in
his throat every so often. His dad sat by him, on the edge of the bed. “Maybe
we should think about putting you back on anti-”
“No. No, I’m fine.”
“Stiles-”
“This is not,” Stiles started, but his voice caught in his throat. “This is not
like with mom, dad. I don’t need them, I don’t want them. I forgot my pills. I
am not regressing, okay?” Stiles talked fast, too fast, his words coming out in
a tumble. He didn’t want to go to the doctor, he didn’t want antidepressants
again. Mixed with Adderall they kept him up, they made him a zombie. He had no
feelings, no highs, no lows. He just... existed. He wanted happiness, he wanted
sadness, he wanted to be human. He wanted to love Derek.
Stiles swallowed, pressing his face into his pillow. Fuck, he loved Derek.
“Please, dad. I won’t mess up again.”
“Let’s get you back on track, and go from there.” Stiles nodded, shaking
slightly. Weeks of fucking up his meds, this sent him over the edge. “You get
some sleep, I’ll be home before you know it.”
Stiles slept. He didn’t get out of bed until he heard the front door open and
close, his father coming home for the night. He walked downstairs to find that
his dad making soup. A glass of water and a pill were waiting for him by his
seat at the table. He took it without a word, sitting down, placing his arms on
the table, then rest his head on them.
“Tomato?” He asked.
“I even shredded cheese.”
“Awesome,” Stiles whispered. “The only thing that would make that bett-”
“And grilled cheese.” Stiles laughed. He didn’t think he could, but he did. His
dad put them down in front of him, and Stiles sat up. He ate slowly, hoping his
stomach would keep it down. It did, thankfully. They ate in silence and Stiles
just wanted to go back to bed. “I stopped by the school and got your work, it
said you have a detention tomorrow.” Stiles spit up his soup. “Says you had an
attitude in class. I’m going to chalk it up to you reacting to being grounded,
and your meds.”
Stiles nodded, wiping his mouth with his hand.
“Yeah, definitely.”
“I’m letting it go, this time. Because I think you punished yourself enough.”
If that wasn’t the truth, Stiles didn’t know what was.
“Does this mean-”
“You’re still grounded,” his dad said. Stiles nodded, clearing his throat.
Understandable. “But I’m giving you your phone back.” Stiles looked up,
surprised. His dad slid it over to him. It was still off. He hadn’t looked
through it. “You have to call your work and explain to them why you’re going to
be late tomorrow.”
Stiles had no problem doing that, not at all. He felt numb, so tired. When he
got back in bed he thought about calling Derek, but he just didn’t have it in
him. He let sleep take him, because he desperately needed it to.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles missed three days of school, total, before he felt alright. He texted
Derek twice, once to tell him he wasn’t coming to school on Tuesday morning,
and then Wednesday at 3:45 in the morning when he couldn’t sleep because the
Adderall was fucking with his brain. Insomnia kept him up because he had slept
so much the previous two days. He fell back asleep at six, but woke up at ten.
His dad told him to try to stay up so that the same thing wouldn’t happen
again. He read all of Frankenstein, curled up on the couch as he bit his nails.
He didn’t normally do it, but for some reason he just needed to. He needed to
do something with his hands as he read the book. He finished Frankenstein,
which in all honesty wasn’t very long, and had time to spare before his dad got
home. No video games, no TV, no internet, no Scott. Scott had been texting him,
and he had responded with nothing but one word responses. He just couldn’t
handle more. He’d tell Scott in person, whenever he had the energy. He was so
tired, so over his fucking medication fucking with his brain. He felt like his
emotions were bombs with short fuses. He snapped at his dad, freaked out over
nothing when his dad asked him to do the smallest things. He knew deep down
that it was the medication, because as soon as his dad shut the door to his
bedroom he immediately felt bad. He was sick of saying sorry, of apologizing
for shouting.
His dad took it all in stride though. He knew, he understood that this wasn’t
Stiles, his Stiles. Stiles felt good enough on Thursday morning to go to
school. They hadn’t even gone to the school to pick up his Jeep, he had felt
that bad. His dad drove him to school, dropping him off for the first time
since his 16th birthday, sophomore year when he got his Jeep.
Suddenly, school felt congested. Lots of people. People walking, people
talking, people bumping into him. After spending three days alone, talking to
no one, he felt overwhelmed. It was like his brain short circuited and suddenly
he didn’t know how to act around people. He wanted to go back home, he wanted
to hide in his locker. Scott found him, it was like he had some sort of homing
beacon on Stiles and knew he was in the vicinity because one second he was
alone and then suddenly Scott was there.
“Hey man, how are you feeling?” He asked and Stiles nodded.
“I, uh.... good. I’m good,” he answered, messing with his locker. He thought
for a second, when he finally got it open, about what he needed. “I had a rough
couple of days but it’s all good now.”
Off handed comments were the best way to deal with it, because he didn’t want
to talk about it. Even with Scott. What was he even supposed to say, anyways?
He had nothing to say, he just wanted to be himself. At least he didn’t feel
like he was dying anymore.
“Are you still-”
“Grounded? Yeah. Believe me, you’ll be the first to know when I’m not.”
“You work today?” Scott asked. Stiles shook his head.
“I, uh... I had to quit.”
“What? Why?” Stiles bit his lip, looking at Scott. Really, man? Seriously, you
don’t get it? “Because of what happened?”Stiles’ best friend was an idiot.
“Yeah, I just... my dad thinks I spread myself too thin.” Stiles really didn’t
want to fucking talk about this right now. “Maybe dad will let you come over,
or something. I can ask tonight?”
“Yeah, ask him.” Stiles nodded. He knew his dad would say no, but it wouldn’t
hurt to ask. He missed his best friend. When Stiles walked into class, he was
one the only one in there. The bell hadn’t rung yet, and most students stayed
in the hallways as long as they could. Derek looked up from his desk, looking
the same as he always did. Stiles didn’t even have it in him to smile. He was
exhausted already and the school day hadn’t even started. Derek looked like he
wanted to stand up, to come over to him, to hug him. He wished Derek could do
just that. Instead, he walked over to his desk, his fingers strumming on the
tabletop lightly.
“Can I have my missed assignments?” Stiles asked. Derek reached his hand out,
palm up invitingly. Stiles slid his hand over Derek’s, their fingers linking
together.
“How are you feeling?” Derek asked. Stiles closed his eyes.
“Shitty,” he said in a sigh. “Wish I wasn’t still grounded.”
“Don’t worry about that right now, think about you.” Derek’s hand squeezed his,
then he pulled away. “I’ll have your assignments for you after school. I wasn’t
sure if you were coming.”
“If I had to spend another day in that house I would have gone insane.”
“You don’t need to stay after school if you don’t-”
“Are you kidding me? Best detention ever. There better not be anyone else
there.” Stiles pointed accusingly at Derek, forcing a smile. He sat down, then,
because the room was filling up. Stiles’ head was buzzing, it was difficult for
him to pay attention. He zoned out in almost every class, discussions didn’t
even register in his mind. He made sure to get all of his missed work
assignments and the dates that they would be due from all of his teachers, but
besides that he didn’t do anything. He looked out windows, stared at blank
paper, and watched teachers write on the whiteboard without writing a single
thing down himself. The end of the day came, and Stiles practically rushed into
Derek’s classroom. It was empty, which surprised him.
“Mr. Hale?” He asked, knowing Derek wasn’t there. He took out his phone, there
was no missed call, no text. Stiles breathed heavily, rubbing the back of his
neck. He could feel himself spiraling, for a moment. Anxiety, panic, walls
closing in. “Stop, stop, stop,” he whispered.
“Stiles?” Derek’s voice rang out. Stiles opened his eyes, relief flooding over
him. Derek shut the door and walked over to him tentatively. Stiles put his
arms around Derek, burying his head against his neck. Derek held him there in
silence, a hand rubbing Stiles’ back slowly. “You scared me, you know that
right?” Stiles nodded his head. “You should carry medicine with you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Are you good?” Derek asked, his grip loosening. They were in the school. At
Derek’s work. They shouldn’t be touching. Stiles nodded, taking a step back.
Derek extended a hand, telling Stiles to sit at one of the desks. He did, and
Derek joined him, sitting next to him. Derek sitting in a desk looked weird.
His legs were stretched out, he put his elbows up on the desk and put his hands
together. Stiles bit his lip and looked down at his hands. “Has your dad asked
to see your boyfriend?”
“No,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “We haven’t... talked yet. About it, I
mean.” Stiles picked at the desk with a fingernail, swallowing. “I didn’t
think, I couldn’t lie to him.”
“I am not mad at you, Stiles.” Stiles looked at Derek. He looked frustrated,
but not angry. Stiles pursed his lips together. “He’s going to ask to meet him,
to meet me.”
“I’ll... tell him-”
“A lie? You just said you couldn’t lie to him.”
“What do you want me to do, then?” Derek looked at his hands. Stiles watched
him think, watched his jaw clench and unclench as if he was debating something
with himself.
“Tell him we broke up.”
“What?” Stiles’ eyes widened. “You’re joking, right?”
“We need to slow down, Stiles.” Stiles shook his head. “Hear me out, okay?”
Stiles stayed silent, trying to control his breathing. “You need to get
yourself sorted, you aren’t yourself right now-”
“I need you, though.” Derek shook his head.
“No, you don’t. You were perfectly fine before we started dating. I want you
healthy, and happy. This-” Derek motioned between them, “is causing you a lot
of stress.”
“I refuse.” Derek sighed.
“I am not dumping you, I am not saying I don’t want you, because that would be
a lie. I like you, Stiles. But you are seventeen and you just had a breakdown.”
Stiles clenched his jaw, angry at himself for letting this happen. If he had
just taken his fucking pills this wouldn’t be happening. “We are slowing down,
it has to happen.”
“Not breaking up, though.”
 
“No, but as far as what your dad can know-”
“Okay, fine,” Stiles snapped. Derek looked at him, his face unreadable. “Is
this because I texted you at 3:45 in the morning?”
“You said ‘this is hard’, Stiles. I can’t-” Derek took a deep breath. “I am not
going to be the cause of this, of anything. You have to understand that.”
Stiles sniffed, nodding his head. “I didn’t think when I picked you up from the
party, I didn’t think when-”
“If you say it was a mistake I am going to kick you.”
“No, it wasn’t a mistake. I just... we need to wait until your birthday,
Stiles.”
“No making out?” Derek shook his head, “kissing?” Again, no.
“You are running really hot and cold you know that?”
“What do you want me to do, Stiles? What can I do about this, really?” Stiles
put his head down on the desk, looking at Derek. This entire situation was
unfair. He wanted to be with Derek, he wanted to be alright, he wanted his job
back, he wanted to play video games with his best friend. Everything was
flipped upside down.
“Phone calls and texting are still happening,” Stiles stated. “And we are
kissing.” Stiles was making demands and he didn’t give a flying fuck. “Movies
and take out.”
“Stiles, that is what we were doing before.”
“I don’t care. I am not backing down.” Derek sighed. “You said you liked me,
right?”
“Of course.”
“Well this is what I want. I want to be friends, I want to spend time with you.
I want you to touch me without thinking you are going to break me because I am
not fucking fragile, alright?” Derek nodded. “Not that we will get to hang out
anytime soon. I am grounded for life.”
Derek looked at the clock, groaning.
“Detention is over.”
“You do know I am going to act out in class to get more detentions, right?”
“You better fucking not.”
It was easier than Stiles thought it would be, getting back to normal. Or, what
was considered normal to him. He did all his catch up work, talked to Derek on
the phone before bed, and stayed out of detention. His father ungrounded him
after two weeks. Stiles asked for his job back, but with less hours. They put
him on the schedule, since they hadn’t replaced him yet. His curfew was still
ten, but he had to text his dad with where he was.
The day he was set free, he went to Scott’s. He stayed until quarter to ten,
walking in the door at a few minutes until ten. He didn’t miss a dose, ever. It
got easier, not being around Derek. They texted, and talked but there was no
physical aspect. Derek stayed away from the coffee shop and never asked Stiles
to stay after class. Stiles didn’t ask to come over, because he knew that Derek
was trying hard to keep him at arm’s length. He knew if he asked, that Derek
would let him come over. He didn’t want to put Derek in that position, though.
Because he knew, deep down, that he needed to wait for his birthday.
It was coming up, which had Stiles practically bouncing. Eighteen, he would be
eighteen.
“What do you want for your birthday?” Derek asked, late one night. Stiles
smiled as he laid in bed, pretending to think.
“Easy, you.”
“Besides me,” Derek laughed. “That, that is happening.”
“That’s all. That is what I want.”
“No new game?”
“Nope, dad has that covered. I just want you and me on a bed, or the kitchen
table? Or the couch. Oh, against a wall. No, wait. No... I was going to say on
the floor but I don’t want rug burn.”
“Stiles...”
“I’m not jacking off I swear to god,” Stiles managed to get out between bouts
of laughter. “I just... there are so many places to pick from.”
“Are you seriously telling me where you want- no. This conversation is over.”
“No, not it isn’t over. It is my birthday and I will spend it how I want to.
And I want to spend it naked, bent over-” Derek growled. “You liked that mental
picture don’t even lie.”
“Which is why you need to stop.”
“Debbie downer.”
“Are you and your dad doing something for it?”
“He has to work, which is fine. I mean, I’ll spend it with you and Scott. Scott
and I are going to buy cigarettes.”
“What?”
“Because I fucking can. I am not going to smoke them or anything. We talked
about it since we were ten, no backing down now. I am buying them.”
“You’re so weird.”
“You love-” Stiles stopped mid-sentence. “But uh, I have to work on my
birthday, which totally blows. But after that, I am free. It’s a Friday night
and I already asked dad to forego the curfew.” Stiles hoped Derek would over
look his slip up, that he wouldn’t mention it. He was quiet for a moment, but
responded as if he didn’t hear anything.
“And does he think you are going to be with Scott?” Derek asked, clearing his
throat.
“I mean, I didn’t really say? I am not spending the night or anything, right?”
“Right.”
“So it doesn’t really matter, it’s my birthday and I am spending it with you,
so.” There was a lull in the conversation, but Stiles didn’t care. He refused
to let his slip up effect him.
“What are your thoughts on cake?”
Chapter End Notes
     only one more chapter left :(
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It wasn’t so much that Stiles was nervous, because he wasn’t. It was the
anticipation that was killing him. A week before his birthday he stopped at
Derek’s after work, keeping an eye on the time.
“I’ve got a question for you,” Derek said, his lips against Stiles’ neck. “Do
you- have you-” Stiles laughed, his hand against Derek’s cheek as his lips
brushed against Derek’s.
“Spit it out, Derek.”
“I’ve been thinking about your birthday-”
“Oh, yeah?” Stiles asked, pressing his body against Derek’s, teasing. Derek’s
hands were on his waist, holding him still.
“Have you ever- with yourself. Have you ever stretched yourself?” He asked in a
tumble. Stiles bit his lip, his cheeks reddening.
“Uh, what would you say if I said yes?” He asked swallowing. Derek grinned, his
hand slipping into Stiles’ back pocket, an eyebrow raising.
“You have?”
“Does that turn you on?” Stiles asked, taking a deep breath. Derek nodded, his
hand squeezing Stiles’ ass.
“A little jealous, but glad at the same time because-”
“Because it will hurt less? Yeah I got that, definitely. I have been thinking
about this for a very, very long time.” Stiles admitted. “I mean, you know...
I, uh-”
“I know how much teenagers jack off, Stiles, I was one too.” Stiles laughed,
nodding his head, his hand on Derek’s chest. “I just wasn’t sure if you were
experimenting or anything.” Stiles groaned, walking Derek towards the couch.
Derek sat on the armrest, kissing Stiles. Stiles’ chest was heaving, talk of
what he did alone and Derek being jealous of the fact that he had basically
fucked himself had his blood pumping. Derek slowed the kiss, a hand gripping
Stiles’ chin. “Hey, hey. We’ve got a week, let’s not jump the gun early, okay?”
“I’m starting to think that you are a masochist,” Stiles gasped, reaching
between Derek’s legs. Derek grabbed hold of Stiles’ wrist, stopping him.
“I am, yeah.”
“Come on-”
“Stiles, it’s quarter to ten. If you are grounded for your birthday I swear to
god-” Stiles looked at Derek’s watch, checking the time for himself. He groaned
unhappily. Derek kissed him one last time before standing, practically pushing
Stiles out the door.
“Rude,” Stiles muttered as he got into his Jeep, grinning to himself.
One more week.
Stiles woke up on his birthday with a hard on. Wonderful, awesome. If that
didn’t say anything about him as a person, nothing else would. He took an extra
long shower, not caring that he was running late. He dressed and ran down the
stairs, almost missing the fact that his dad was sitting in the kitchen,
despite his working the day shift. He had a balloon, which made Stiles stop
dead in his tracks. A balloon. His dad got him a balloon. And a card.
“Happy birthday, Stiles,” he said, standing and hugging him. Stiles hugged him
back. “You deserve this.” Stiles opened the card to find a check for three
hundred dollars.
“What? Dad, you can’t- holy shit.”
“Now that, that is to be saved and used for something big. Also for a new video
game, or whatever you want. And you don’t need to take the balloon to school-”
“Oh, I am taking this balloon.” Stiles said, taking the ribbon in his hand. “It
is traveling around with me and everything.” Stiles ran the check upstairs,
then gave his dad another hug before he walked outside, to his Jeep. “Oh,
balls,” he whispered when he saw his Jeep. Scott had come over in the middle of
the night with one of those soap pens that you write on windows with and
decided to decorate his Jeep. “Happy Sweet 18th Genim” was written on the side.
Stiles made a face. “That asshole.It’s sweet 16, not 18,” Stiles mumbled as he
got into his Jeep and rode to school. When he got there, he took a picture of
it and sent it to Derek.
Is that a balloon? Derek asked.
Jealous you didn’t think of getting me a balloon? Stiles responded with. He
lied. He left the balloon in his Jeep. Mainly because he didn’t want some
asshole to pop it, which totally happened to him when Scott got him one when he
turned thirteen.
I’ve got something else for you. Cheeky shit. Stiles walked down the hallway,
looking for Scott so he could punch him in the arm. He opened his locker and
confetti fell out. A lot of it.
“Ugh.”
“Happy Birthday!” Scott said, popping out from around the corner, where he had
probably been waiting the last ten minutes. With him was Allison.
“Thanks, man,” Stiles said, dusting the confetti off of his books. “Confetti
and graffiti. Nice.”
“The confetti was my idea,” Allison said, smiling. Stiles raised his eyebrows,
nodding his head as if that made total sense.
“And Scott’s was writing on my Jeep.”
“Basically, yeah,” Allison said, looking to Scott.
“Thanks guys, really. I’ll see you at lunch, right?”
“Right,” Scott said, grinning.
“You didn’t get a cake, did you?” Stiles asked, worried. “Worse, you didn’t
make one.... right?” Scott shook his head, looking at Allison to back him up.
“Scott definitely didn’t do anything like that.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at
them. Liars. They were both such liars. He made his way to class, sitting in
the back. Derek looked back, confused, but said nothing. They basically stared
at each other the whole class, though. Well, Stiles stared while Derek glanced.
Stiles stayed after, just a few seconds.
“Happy birthday,” Derek whispered, his hands in his pockets to keep from
touching Stiles. Stiles smiled, licking his lips.
“Do I get a present?” He asked, tilting his head.
“Oh yeah, but not here.” Stiles pouted. “You won’t be making that face later.”
“Wanna bet?” Stiles asked, sticking his bottom lip out farther.
“Get out of here,” Derek said, laughing, as he motioned with his head.
After school, Stiles and Scott went to the gas station where Stiles bought
cigarettes. It was rather underwhelming considering he wasn’t even carded. He
called bullshit because he basically looked like a fourteen year old, but
whatever. He did it, tossing the cigarettes into his glove box because he
didn’t actually need them. Work was slow and boring until Derek came to visit.
It was a surprise, because he never came into the shop when Stiles was working,
at least he hadn’t in a long time. It made Stiles’ day, actually, which sounded
lame but he didn’t care.
Isaac let him go home early for his birthday, saying that he could lock up on
his own. Stiles practically ran out of the coffee shop and into his Jeep. He
met Derek at the big house, outside of town. When he got there, Derek’s camaro
was parked out front already. Of course it was, though. It was his house.
Stiles laughed at himself, he was being silly. He got out of his Jeep, bringing
his balloon with him. He didn’t even knock on the door before Derek opened it,
laughing at the wilting balloon.
“Hey, don’t laugh at my balloon.”
“It’s a nice balloon,” Derek whispered, cupping Stiles’ face in his hands. They
kissed, walking over the threshold. Derek shut the door, slipping Stiles’
hoodie off, then his long sleeved shirt. “Are you ready for your present?” He
asked.
“Mmmhmm,” Stiles muttered as he continued kissing him. Derek led him into the
kitchen where there was a single cupcake. “What, holy shit.”
“Because I am lame, you have to make a wish first,” Derek said as he walked
over to the cupcake, sticking a candle in it. He lit it, then picked it up and
walked it over to Stiles.
“Are you going to sing to me?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head.
“No one wants to hear me sing, believe me.” Stiles grinned. “Go on, blow it
out.”
“I’d rather blow-”
“Stiles.” Stiles blew out the candle, his hand grasping at Derek’s belt loops,
pulling him closer. Derek took the candle out of the cupcake and tossed it onto
the kitchen table, then peeled back the wrapper. “Open wide.” Stiles laughed,
thinking about something else entirely. Derek gave him a look, so he opened his
mouth. He was actually going to feed him the-
Yep. Derek fed him the cupcake. How domestic. The most domestic. Once Stiles
had it in his mouth, Derek kissed him. The half eaten cupcake was discarded,
forgotten about on the table as Stiles backed Derek up against it. Derek
grasped at Stiles shirt, pulling it over his head. Stiles gasped as Derek’s
mouth trailed down his neck, his chest, his nipple. Stiles’ fingers raked
through Derek’s hair as he teased and nipped at his skin. Derek’s hands didn’t
stay still, rubbing up and down Stiles’ sides, his back, his ass. This was what
they had been waiting for, what they had been holding out for. Stiles moaned as
Derek raked his teeth across his nipple, tugging just enough to elicit the
noise. Stiles bit his lip, cupping Derek’s face in his hands, forcing Derek to
kiss him. And Derek did, jesus christ he did. It was like a switch was flipped,
like Derek was finally showing Stiles what he wanted. Like he wasn’t holding
back any longer.
“Where?” Derek asked, breaking the kiss only long enough to get the words out.
“Where do you want this to happen?” This was happening and Stiles shuddered,
moaning into the kiss.
“Bed, bed,” he urged. They made their way slowly into the bedroom, making a pit
stop against multiple walls. Stiles tugged at Derek’s shirt, ridding him of it
easily. He then worked on Derek’s jeans, only able to get the belt off get the
button undone before he was tossed onto the bed. Derek grabbed the feet of
Stiles’ jeans and pulled. Stiles groaned as he watched them slide down his
legs. He gripped himself through his boxer briefs as Derek grabbed his legs,
bringing him closer to the edge of the bed as he himself crawled onto it. Derek
kissed him again, this time with less urgency. He had his hands on Stiles’
thighs, moving up and down them slowly. Stiles rolled his hips once, wanting
more contact, needing more. Derek’s hand moved, ghosting over the top of the
fabric, cupping Stiles through it. Stiles murmured indiscernible noises,
licking his lips as Derek’s hand slipped beneath the fabric, wrapping around
him. “Oh, fuck.”
“What do you want me to do, Stiles?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head, his
chest heaving as he moved his hips, fucking up into Derek’s hand. Derek pressed
his nose against Stiles’ neck, moving it along his collarbone. He spread his
legs wider, the words not coming forward. He wanted more, more. Just more.
Jesus christ if Derek didn’t touch him more soon he was going to combust. Derek
backed off of him, which Stiles almost protested, until Derek brought Stiles’
legs together and started to slide his boxer briefs off.
“Yes, that,” Stiles said, watching Derek toss them to the ground. “I, uh-
okay,” Stiles gulped as Derek pulled him closer to the edge of the bed, his
legs hanging over it as Derek went to his knees. Stiles hoisted himself up by
his elbows, his toes curling as Derek took him into his mouth.
What a fucking birthday.
Stiles closed his eyes, moaning as Derek blew him. His eyes snapped open when
he heard the cap of lube opening. Derek had planned on this position, had put
lube at the foot of the bed. Stiles bit his lip, watching Derek, a hand on the
base of his cock, his lips wrapped around him as his other hand, slick with
lube, rubbed against his ass. Stiles scooted farther down the bed, lifting his
legs, holding onto the inside of his knees. His head hit the mattress as his
chest heaved, his mouth open in a constant gasp. Derek’s teeth raked across
Stiles’ thigh as he pressed a finger inward. Stiles whimpered, his eyes
shutting as he squirmed against it.
Derek worked him slowly, opening him up with one finger, then two, taking his
time. Stiles stroked himself as Derek spread him wide. He groaned when Derek
pulled away, not liking the suddenly lack of contact. He watched Derek stand,
taking off his jeans, his briefs. Derek bent over, picking up a condom that
must have been by the lube. He put one knee on the bed, leaning over, reaching
past Stiles, grabbing a pillow.
“You ready?” He asked. Stiles nodded, his mind in a lust filled haze. Derek
kissed him, then helped him lift his hips, sliding the pillow beneath them.
Derek situated himself between Stiles’ legs, spreading his knees. Derek leaned
forward, his hands at either side of Stiles’ head. They kissed, chests pressed
together, Derek’s cock rubbing against his before pressing against his
entrance. He moaned against Derek’s mouth. Derek gripped his own cock, lining
himself up. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist and tried to relax,
tried to breathe.
“Fuck, fuck,” Stiles shouted as Derek slowly entered him. He couldn’t move as
he panted, as Derek started thrusting in and out. Derek pressed a hand against
Stiles’ cheek, Derek’s forehead resting against Stiles’. Stiles couldn’t stop
making noises with every movement that Derek made, groaning and gasping with
every breath. Derek’s hands moved downwards, gripping Stiles’ waist as his
thrusts quickened, deepened. He felt so full, so thoroughly fucked. His cock
twitched between his legs, dripping precome on his stomach as Derek fucked into
him repeatedly.
Eventually, Derek’s pace slowed, his arms sliding up underneath Stiles’,
holding onto his shoulders from beneath, pinning Stiles against him so that he
was all the way inside of him. He stilled for a moment, catching his breath.
Stiles squirmed, sweat covering his body, wanting friction, wanting Derek to
move once more.
“You want me to fuck you?” Derek asked, his lips pressed against Stiles’ ear.
“Ye- yes.” Stiles said, his breath hitching. Derek began moving once more, in
hard slow thrusts had sent sparks cascading throughout Stiles’ body. Stiles’
back arched as he came in a long, orgasmic shudder. He hadn’t known he was that
close to coming, but by Derek’s movements he wasn’t that far off either.
“God, you have no idea the sounds you are making, do you?” Derek asked him, his
fingers leaving bruises from how he was holding onto him. Stiles shook his
head, his hands reaching out, grasping at the sheets surrounding him, tugging
at them. Derek leaned over, licking up Stiles’ mess. Stiles shivered, his mouth
in an open moan. Derek pounded into him, then, riding out his own climax.
Stiles’ legs felt like jelly and his brain was mush, unable to string a full
sentence together.
“I.... just. Again?” He asked as Derek pulled out of him, tying off the condom.
Derek laughed, sitting next to where Stiles lay on the bed, his head hanging
down between his shoulders. Eventually he nodded.
“Give me a few.”
“No, now. Birthday,” Stiles mumbled, his eyes closing, his hand reaching out,
touching Derek’s back tentatively. He raked his fingers against Derek’s skin,
wanting his hand. Derek reached for him, intertwining their fingers. “Best
birthday,” he whispered.
“Good,” Derek said, smiling. Damn good.
Epilogue.
“Dad I said Derek and I got it,” Stiles said with his phone cradled between his
shoulder and cheek. He had a box in his hand and he was trying not to drop it
as he walked up a flight of stairs. “You don’t need to come up after you get
off work, we’ll be done.” Derek was helping Stiles move into his dorm, and the
Sheriff had to work and he was being grumpy about missing out on it. “I’ve
really got to go, though. Love you,” he said, motioning to Derek to grab the
phone and slip it in his back pocket. Derek did, tapping Stiles on the ass
after he stowed the phone away safely. He was carrying a box in one hand, using
his hip for leverage as he grabbed keys out of his pocket. “How come you get to
unlock the door?”
“Because you decided to take the big box, because you’re a man.” Derek teased.
He opened the door, letting Stiles walk in first. “Wow, I think dorms have
gotten smaller.”
“Well it has been since the ice age that you went to college.”
“Ouch. That fucking hurts.”
Stiles was going to school two hours from Beacon Hills, which was just about as
far away as he could stand, considering everyone he cared about was staying in
Beacon Hills, including Scott. His dad, Scott, and Derek were all there and
here he was, moving away. Telling his dad about Derek had not been fun.
Actually it was the opposite of fun. They did it after graduation, for obvious
reasons. Stiles started off with stating flat out that nothing happened until
his birthday, which was technically true. The Sheriff knew his son had been
seeing the same person all year, he knew that they had never broken up, and he
knew that Stiles loved him, even though he had never said it. Derek showed
every single paper to the Sheriff, showing him that he graded him fairly. They
told him about how they met, the truth.
Stiles was grounded for all of thirty five minutes before the Sheriff called
him downstairs to apologize. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to throw
Derek to the wolves over the whole situation, considering how much he knew
Stiles was serious about Derek.
The Sheriff wasn’t mad that Derek was the one that got to move Stiles into his
dorm, he was just upset he couldn’t join them.
“Your dad invited me to the shooting range.”
“You aren’t going, are you?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide. Derek shrugged. “He
may shoot you. He could have waited for me to move away-”
“Stiles-”
“He knows where he could stow the body. I am serious-”
“I am sure if he was going to kill me he would have done it when he saw that it
was me who came to meet him.” Stiles bit his lip, nodding.
“Well... how about you do it some weekend I am home.”
“How often do you think you are going to have time to come home?” Derek asked
as they walked back down to their cars. They had packed both up with Stiles’
things, driving the whole way on speaker phone.
“Depends, how often are you going to come up and visit?” Stiles asked,
grinning.
“How about we switch off, for now, and see how that works.” Stiles nodded,
wrapping a hand around Derek’s waist.
“That could work.”
Chapter End Notes
     Words cannot describe how much your comments have made me feel
     welcome in this fandom. I can't wait to write more for you :)
End Notes
     beta'd by lsdme, thank you Lauren!
     Here is me, taking a stab at writing a multichapter fic in this
     fandom. *deep breaths*
     date: please do not REPOST this fic anywhere else without my consent.
     Please do not put it on GoodReads that is a site for PUBLISHED works,
     not fic.
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