stiles makes him feel better. the anxiety that had been building up in derek's stomach, amassing together and making him feel hollow and outside of himself, eases away with the touch. stiles presses against him and derek just-- sighs, relaxed, like he's easing an ache in his body. he reads through stiles' messages with lightly glassy eyes, and then he just...
he puts his phone down. he locks it, shutting off one of two light sources their bedroom has right now, and he lays down, despite the show he put into sitting up. he rolls towards stiles, manoeuvring as carefully as he can so as not to dislodge the hand resting on his skin beneath his shirt, and he pulls his arm over stiles' side. his eyes are half-shut, and he's just-- staring, softly, at stiles' lips. his nose. parts of stiles he loves. ]
All I want is to be here for you.
[ he's talking, now, voice hoarse from a lack of use. he could clear his throat, help make it stronger, but - he doesn't, because he's worried speaking too loudly or making too much noise will break the ethereal, quiet moment he's already intruding on by speaking. ]
You're... a lot of things to me. I could write a list. Top of it would be - you're the guy I call babe before freaking out for five minutes in a quiet panic, trying to determine whether or not I sounded like a stupid frat boy. I can apologize more than once, if I want to.
[ a pause. ]
I shouldn't be the outlier. People should listen to you. You're beautiful, and you're smart, and your instincts are amazing. You deserve more respect.
[ and... derek takes another pause. his voice stays low. apologetic, almost, even though he's not apologizing. like he just - naturally feels like he's imposing. ]
But I want... to know everything about your life. Everything. The good, the bad. All the things I should have been there for. We don't have to talk now, but... soon.
no subject
stiles makes him feel better. the anxiety that had been building up in derek's stomach, amassing together and making him feel hollow and outside of himself, eases away with the touch. stiles presses against him and derek just-- sighs, relaxed, like he's easing an ache in his body. he reads through stiles' messages with lightly glassy eyes, and then he just...
he puts his phone down. he locks it, shutting off one of two light sources their bedroom has right now, and he lays down, despite the show he put into sitting up. he rolls towards stiles, manoeuvring as carefully as he can so as not to dislodge the hand resting on his skin beneath his shirt, and he pulls his arm over stiles' side. his eyes are half-shut, and he's just-- staring, softly, at stiles' lips. his nose. parts of stiles he loves. ]
All I want is to be here for you.
[ he's talking, now, voice hoarse from a lack of use. he could clear his throat, help make it stronger, but - he doesn't, because he's worried speaking too loudly or making too much noise will break the ethereal, quiet moment he's already intruding on by speaking. ]
You're... a lot of things to me. I could write a list. Top of it would be - you're the guy I call babe before freaking out for five minutes in a quiet panic, trying to determine whether or not I sounded like a stupid frat boy. I can apologize more than once, if I want to.
[ a pause. ]
I shouldn't be the outlier. People should listen to you. You're beautiful, and you're smart, and your instincts are amazing. You deserve more respect.
[ and... derek takes another pause. his voice stays low. apologetic, almost, even though he's not apologizing. like he just - naturally feels like he's imposing. ]
But I want... to know everything about your life. Everything. The good, the bad. All the things I should have been there for. We don't have to talk now, but... soon.