[ the door's locked. stiles' door is locked, but derek just keeps trying to turn. he could break the lock. he just needs to twist hard enough to fuck with the pin inside the cylinder keeping the lock in place. he just needs to use his strength to break it open. one strong pull. that's all it'll take.
derek shakes the handle again, rattling the entire door. he brings his other fist back to the wood, hammering against the dirty, chipped paint faster than before, and when it finally swings inward, derek's lungs feel like they're cracked over with ice. his fist meets air and his stomach twists in on itself, and it takes him a second to realize that stiles is here, and stiles is okay, and stiles is collapsing into him. stiles is here. stiles is okay.
he makes this complicated, ugly noise. a sob, just once, choked and tight in the back of his throat, labored and rough. there's a lump in his throat that he has to swallow, and he tries, but it's jagged and sour and burning like coal. he focuses on breathing, instead, closing his eyes and hugging stiles back just as tight. tighter, even. he buries his nose in stiles' hair, breathes deep, feels how solid and real and present he is against his chest. his heart is breaking against his ribs, slamming against bone like it's trying to get out, and he knows stiles can feel it. he can't find his voice, at first, and when it does, it's frustratingly weak, and derek has to strain to use it. ]
I can't--
[ i can't do this anymore, i can't be away from you, i can't keep lying awake at night panicking because you're not there, you need to come live with me, i need you to live with me, i need you to be there. derek scrunches his eyes tight enough to hurt, and only pulls away from stiles when he feels like the poor kid needs to breathe. ]
What-- what happened? What...
[ he takes another breath, long and stabilizing, and he puts his hands on stiles' shoulders. he pushes him back a couple of steps, just enough to hold eye contact with him, really see into him and figure out what happened. maybe he's-- maybe he overreacted. he overreacted. he shouldn't have come here. derek takes another breath. ]
Stiles, it's-- it's okay, I just... I need you to tell me what... I need you to talk to me.
no subject
derek shakes the handle again, rattling the entire door. he brings his other fist back to the wood, hammering against the dirty, chipped paint faster than before, and when it finally swings inward, derek's lungs feel like they're cracked over with ice. his fist meets air and his stomach twists in on itself, and it takes him a second to realize that stiles is here, and stiles is okay, and stiles is collapsing into him. stiles is here. stiles is okay.
he makes this complicated, ugly noise. a sob, just once, choked and tight in the back of his throat, labored and rough. there's a lump in his throat that he has to swallow, and he tries, but it's jagged and sour and burning like coal. he focuses on breathing, instead, closing his eyes and hugging stiles back just as tight. tighter, even. he buries his nose in stiles' hair, breathes deep, feels how solid and real and present he is against his chest. his heart is breaking against his ribs, slamming against bone like it's trying to get out, and he knows stiles can feel it. he can't find his voice, at first, and when it does, it's frustratingly weak, and derek has to strain to use it. ]
I can't--
[ i can't do this anymore, i can't be away from you, i can't keep lying awake at night panicking because you're not there, you need to come live with me, i need you to live with me, i need you to be there. derek scrunches his eyes tight enough to hurt, and only pulls away from stiles when he feels like the poor kid needs to breathe. ]
What-- what happened? What...
[ he takes another breath, long and stabilizing, and he puts his hands on stiles' shoulders. he pushes him back a couple of steps, just enough to hold eye contact with him, really see into him and figure out what happened. maybe he's-- maybe he overreacted. he overreacted. he shouldn't have come here. derek takes another breath. ]
Stiles, it's-- it's okay, I just... I need you to tell me what... I need you to talk to me.
[ derek just wants to kiss him. ]