[ stiles kind of sobers a little, only because derek is talking about - important things. everything derek says is important to stiles, but this is different. this is a significant part of derek's life, paige and kate, and stiles knows when to put joking and sarcasm aside. ]
I know about Paige. I know about what happened to her. I know she's why your eyes used to be blue. And I know you tried to save her after Peter made you believe you needed to change her. I don't think you were stupid or naive. I just think you trusted your uncle. It's not your fault he had other motives.
[ but. anyway. the elevator starts to slow as it approaches the upper level, and stiles has half the mind to push past a few people to mash his thumb against the doors open button, but. he still has to pick up his things, which he'll do in a minute. ]
I want you to be happy. I want you to feel happy and I don't ever want you to feel scared Of me or of us. I mean that's kind of hypocritical of me because I'm scared too but I just really, really want this And I don't want to do something wrong or like Overstep or say something too stupid to come back from so it just Makes me nervous A lot You make me nervous but like In the best way I guess. And believe me If you think I'm gonna tell you to stop saying all these nice things about me because you're getting "carried away" Well I've never laughed so hard in my life.
Elevator's almost stopped. Hopefully some asshole hasn't pushed all the buttons again in your building. I don't know if I can run up all those stairs with this extra weight.
[ the urge to argue with stiles is - strong. it's kind of him, to pin the blame on peter, but derek was the one who pushed for the bite, derek was the one who believed he couldn't be with paige while she was human, derek was the one who didn't stop and talk to paige and realize she was perceptive enough to know about werewolves even before ennis, derek was the one who played with her life and trusted the wrong people and asked for too much.
but the fact that stiles knows so much about paige gets to him, a little, because he doesn't talk about her. he's said her name twice in the past eight or so years, and both of them were to stiles within the last few days. for stiles to know not only about their relationship, but about her death, and about peter? to know, and - to not be disgusted with him?
it's a lot. it's a lot, to think that stiles still wants him despite knowing what he knows. derek wets his lips, starts pacing again, feels his stomach get unsettled. he can't talk about paige anymore, not over the phone. he moves past it. ]
That's how I feel. I don't want to overstep, I don't want to do anything wrong. I don't want to hurt you. That's what I'm afraid of. But.
[ elevator's almost stopped. derek gets annoyed, again. he can't wait to just... move. live together. not have to wait all the time. ]
I know you won't screw this up. I don't think you could if you tried. You're smart. Kind. Caring. You've cared about me more than... anyone else ever has. Except for my mom, maybe. You make me feel like I'm okay. That's a hard thing to do. Nobody's ever made me feel this okay.
[ aaand the doors are opening but stiles takes an extra couple seconds to tap out a quick reply to derek so he's not just. leaving him hanging, when he's talking about important things like. feelings. ]
You deserve it. I know you probably don't think you do But I'm usually always right so you're just going to have to trust that I know what I'm talking about. You deserve to feel okay for once. And I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure I don't do anything to mess that up Gotta run though See you soon.
[ stiles pockets his phone and scrambles to pick his things up, barely making it out of the elevator before the doors close, twisting his body sideways to avoid shoulder-checking one of the doors.
he's been in the up dozens of times before, maybe hundreds, but this feels - different. maybe it's not even the up, maybe it's just - the purpose for this trek. his backpack is heavy, his arms are full. he's going to see derek and he's not going to have to leave in the morning for fear of overstaying his welcome.
they're going to move and have a space that's theirs, private. something closer to the woods, with a lot of windows and a lot of space and. it's just. stiles is happy. it's weird, to feel happy in a city that has, so far, been the primary source of his misery, his frayed nerves, anxiety. but he feels good now. he feels so good that he almost does kind of want to run to derek, but he knows himself, and he knows he'll likely trip, because running is - weird, with your arms crossed over your body. so he settles for speed walking.
stiles makes it to the highrise in roughly five minutes, and when he presses the button for the elevator with the back of his wrist, it only takes a handful of seconds for the doors to open. stiles steps in, immediately turns - and sets his stuff down on the floor again to free up both of his hands.
there's a little trick he knows. it doesn't work in all elevators - mostly only older models -, but it's handy when it works. stiles presses and holds the doors close button, pushes and holds the button for the 89th floor, and doesn't let either button go until the doors are closed and the lift starts to move. even if it does work, he's got time, so he picks up his stuff - a pile of folded clothes, mostly flannel shirts and a couple pairs of chinos
it works though. either there's nobody between the first and 89th floors waiting for the elevator, or stiles' little bypass trick worked, because the elevator doesn't stop the whole way, and when the doors finally open again, stiles is... yawning. well, he's trying to pop his ears, but it looks like he's yawning, working his jaw. he rounds the corner out into the common space between the two apartments on this floor and when he gets to derek's door he feels - excited. excited and stupid and kind of nervous but it's good-nervous. he lifts his foot, intending to kick the bottom of a couple times in lieu of knocking because his arms are full of the clothes he couldn't fit in his backpack (and his bat is tucked underneath the straps of his bag, across his shoulders, i almost forgot about his dumb bat)--
but the door opens before his shoe can make contact so his foot swings out a little further than expected before he just - steps forward onto it. stiles looks at derek over the pile of folded laundry held close to his chest, he smiles, small and dumb. ]
[ derek doesn't deserve stiles. he doesn't deserve him, and stiles doesn't deserve this relationship to devolve into constant reassurance and constantly having to tell derek that he has a right to be happy, and derek feels this uncomfortable squeeze in his chest as he criticizes himself for finding another way to make their conversation all about him.
but then he lets that go and actually listens, really fores himself to reread what stiles said. the promise to be there for him, the unwavering determination to see derek in a light that he just doesn't understand. stiles has been nothing but good and kind and supportive, even back home. he didn't have to keep him alive, all those times he did. he didn't ever have to care about him.
so derek paces by his front door again, waiting, impatient. this place has felt so much better, since stiles started coming over - there's a soda stain on the carpet from where they first played chess, derek has some of stiles' clothes washed and folded by his bed, he can smell stiles in the sheets. the new place is going to have stiles ingrained in it, and derek might not be able to survive it.
he hears stiles coming through the door, ears picking up and head raised like a dog hearing its owner come back from the store. derek genuinely tries to be good, he genuinely tries to hold himself back from playing all his cards and showing just how badly he wants to see him, but he honestly can't help himself. stiles stands by the door and derek swings it open, and when he sees him, he can't find the words to express just how happy he is that he's here.
so he doesn't bother using them. he all but dashes forward, sets his hands against stiles' jawline, and he takes him in a kiss, sweet and frantic. he closes his eyes and he just feels stiles' lips against his own, breathing a sigh through his nose like he's finally able to just relax, after hours of being tense and alone, hours of waiting. he holds his breath while they kiss, and he doesn't mind the feeling of his lungs burning when they run out of air.
he pulls back, looking at stiles with his usual level of stern, unapproachable apathy, but there's color in his cheeks, and he doesn't seem to know where to look, flicking his eyes over every inch of stiles' face or off to the side. he breathes in deep, filling his chest, then lets go. he takes stiles' things without asking, then heads into the bedroom to set them down.
derek comes back to the entrance with his thumb grazing over his bottom lip, like he can still feel stiles against him, then quickly drops his arm the second he realizes he could be seen. he's moving sort of mechanically, like he's not really paying attention to what he's doing - his mind's still on the kiss, on stiles, too distracted for anything else. he turns on his heel, looks at stiles, and he's touching his lip again, automatic and unnoticed. he's forgotten to actually say hi.
so. shit. okay. he raises his other arm. gives a bit of a wave, scrunching his fingers down to his palm. ]
[ derek rushes him, but everything kind of slows down for stiles for those few seconds. he feels derek's hands on his face first, warm and firm and secure as he cups his jaw. he feels the light pressure of his fingers, tilting his head up just a fraction of an inch, and he feels derek's breath ghost over his lips before they're kissing, and even in slow motion stiles still finds himself... surprised. even with the split-second warning, he still feels a little off balance, and for a full second, he just stands there with his eyes still open and his brows gently furrowed. his arms start to loosen round his things for a moment, like he's about to lift his arms to pull derek in closer to him, but he catches himself before he just - drops all of his laundry on the floor in the hallway.
instead, he melts. his eyes close and he sighs out through his nose and he leans into derek just a bit, pressing his crossed arms into derek's chest, squashing his clothes between the both of them. his stupid bat catches in the doorway, which is frustrating, but probably also a good thing, otherwise he might have just fallen right on in, tripped right into derek, moreso than he already has.
when derek pulls back, stiles only barely manages not to tilt forward, his eyes still closed and his lips still gently pursed. he looks like an idiot. he looks so dumb but he feels kind of floaty and loose and content. he swipes his tongue across lower lip, and then opens his eyes, only because derek is - taking all of his stuff from him. stiles lets it all go, twists to let derek pull his backpack off of him. he keeps the bat, just because he forgets to hand it over.
stiles stays in the entryway. for a second or three he just stands there, a little dumb-looking as he glances around the apartment. his eyes fall on the darkened stain on the carpet, which makes his stomach flip and swoop a little with a tiny wave of arousal. he's going to live with derek. he and derek are going to live together. here, for a night or two probably, and then they're going to move and leave this place behind and stiles is... really excited about it. as fondly as he looks at the carpet stain, there isn't really a whole lot he's going to miss about this apartment once he and derek set up in a new place.
he glances up when derek comes back, watching him quietly as he touches his lip. stiles casually leans the wide end of his bat against the floor, leans some of his weight into the handle, using it as a crutch. like a makeshift cane. he opens his fingers around the flat base, then flexes them and curls them into a fist, scratching at the back of one calf with his opposite foot.
stiles is smiling when derek finally looks up, though it's faint and you kind of have to squint to see it. he raises his eyebrows questioningly, but finds himself breaking out into a wider, brighter, slightly lopsided smile. he lifts his free hand, splays his fingers a little in an awkward wave. ]
... Hi. Where'd you go?
[ not like - physically. stiles knows he went to the bedroom to put his stuff down, but derek looks a little spacey and distracted, and he keeps touching his bottom lip and it's. kind of cute. it's really cute. just to be clear, though, stiles lifts his awkward wave-y hand and taps his fingers to the side of his own head. ]
[ stiles asks where he went, and derek tries to act like he hadn't heard the question. he lifts his eyebrows and purses his lips, putting his hand in his pocket so it stops touching his fucking mouth, and it's pretty obvious that he's just buying time while trying to come up with an answer. the red in his cheeks gets a little heavier, he glances away like he's been caught. he's actually kind of shy. that's new, for him. he's not a fan of this feeling. ]
Oh. Uh. Just - you know.
[ he clears his throat and waves his hand through the air, as if that's enough of an explanation, and he shrugs one shoulder, ready to move on without putting a voice to all the bullshit in his head. he likes stiles. he likes kissing stiles, and he's spacey and distracted because he just keeps thinking about how he wants to do it again. his hand's out of his pocket and ready to touch his lip again, but he catches himself and scratches the space between his eyebrows, instead. he looks back to stiles, and he feels sort of clumsy. like there's too much energy in him and he doesn't know how to vent it.
ugh, this is stupid. he's acting like a fucking idiot. derek rolls his shoulders, sets his posture straight, tries to flip a switch in his head that'll turn him into a big, tough werewolf man. it doesn't really work, because he looks at stiles standing in the doorway, leaning on his bat and smiling, and it gets in his head and makes everything worse. derek looks at him in silence, just for a second or two, and then he exhales, hard and sharp. he looks at stiles like he's pissing him off. ]
Stop.
[ again, he gestures, pointing two fingers at stiles and dropping his hand from his head to his toes. just sort of indicating at stiles' entire body. ]
You're doing this on purpose. Making it worse.
[ acting cute, being cute, making derek want to kiss him again. derek shakes his head and steps forward, grabbing stiles by the wrist, just for an excuse to touch him, and he pulls him in over the threshold of the entrance so he can shut and lock the door behind him. when the two of them are sealed away in the apartment, he feels like he should be able to relax more, but it just doesn't happen. he's itchy under his skin and he keeps looking at stiles like he just can't help it. like he's worse, when he looks away from him.
[ stiles can tell derek is stalling. derek's stalling is more obvious than roscoe's stalling and roscoe stalls a lot, but it's so, so easy to read on derek. or maybe it's just easy for stiles. either way, he waits. he lets derek pretend he missed the question, but he doesn't repeat himself. instead, he inches his eyebrows up, questioningly and he presses his lips together.
and he waits. he waits until he wants to laugh, which is right about when derek's cheeks flush a darker shade of pink. his chest constricts a little with a laugh that he's fighting to keep inside, lest derek take it the wrong way and assume he's laughing at him when really he's just - happy. stiles has never really seen derek like this before, so it's strange and new and... endearing. if scott knew stiles was standing here looking at derek, endeared to him, he'd probably pop a blood vessel (but that's fine - it'd heal).
derek gestures vaguely. stiles squints his eyes slightly and he leans a little more of his weight on his bat-hand, and he has to pinch his mouth a little tighter because derek is just. he's floundering. stiles doesn't know why or where this sudden, flustery derek is coming from, but he doesn't hate it, even if derek seems to be struggling a little.
and then derek tells him to stop, and any amusement that might have been shaping his features quickly disappears because derek looks kind of mad. stiles' mouth slackens slightly, his eyebrows pinch, he kind of juts his chin forward a little, paused with his foot between the back of his knee and his ankle. his fingers flex around the bat, open, then closed again. derek gestures at him again and he makes an accusation, and stiles has the nerve to look entirely offended and partially confused. ]
Doing— I'm not even—
[ derek steps toward him though which shuts stiles up for some reason, and when derek takes his wrist and pulls him forward out of the entryway and into the apartment, he comes easily. he stumbles a little, just because he was actually, genuinely using the bat to support his weight, and he also had a foot up off the ground, but he moves when derek moves him, with very little resistance.
stiles stands close, but he softens a little, eyebrows swooping gently upward in the middle, expressing some mild concern. ]
Making - hey, making what worse on purpose? [ stiles' eyes roam over derek's face, tracing the sharp lines and soft slopes. he lifts the bat between them, hand curled around it somewhere in the middle, and he gently touches the narrow end of it to derek's chest. ] ... You okay?
[ see, this is only getting worse. the amusement, the tiny laugh, the overall happiness derek could smell on him a mile away. stiles is fucking killing him, and derek's embarrassing himself because of it. acting out, being dumb. there's so much energy in him. he wants to go for a run, maybe burn some of it out. it's going to be so much better when they're closer to the woods.
but stiles is concerned. stiles is concerned, suddenly, and that makes derek feel like a bit of an asshole, because he's just - being shy, he's not actually mad, of course he's not actually mad. he shakes his head, guilty, trying to just shut down everything stiles is worried about, but then he realize that must look like he's saying no, he's not okay, so he nods, instead. and then that just makes him think he looks fucking indecisive and stupid, so he looks more pissed off, and it's all just - a mess.
words. okay. words. ]
Yes. I'm okay. Obviously I'm okay. I'm--
[ okay, hold on. derek swats at the bat pressed against his chest like a cat getting ticked off by an egregiously persistent fly. he slaps at it until it's gone, and it - kind of hurt his hand, actually, so he shakes his hand out a little, feels like he's being even more stupid, and starts from the beginning. ]
I'm okay. You're just cute. You're being cute. I want to kiss you again. I want to kiss you so much. It's...
[ he frowns, shakes his head. he's making this out to be something - negative, but it's not, of course it's not. it's just a lot, and stiles has to realize that the quirks of his brows and the soft little smiles and even this, the genuine, immediate concern, it's all just - hard-hitting. derek looks at stiles, more pouty than actually angry, now that he's up close, and he thinks of the barracks, he thinks of the first time they touched each other.
it's funny, how long ago that feels. it's barely been a month. ]
[ stiles likes to think he's gotten pretty damn good at interpreting derek. whether that means deciphering the true meaning or intent behind a handful of words, or reading his body language and wordless gestures, stiles likes to believe he understands derek well enough that if they were to be put on a team together, they'd absolutely dominate a game of charades. so long as derek is never the one having to guess, anyway.
the mixed signals are throwing him for a loop, though. derek shakes his head no, he's not okay, and stiles immediately straightens up a little, his shoulders squaring off like he's geared to handle whatever the issue here is, even if he's suddenly nervous that he's actually done something wrong. even though he's done literally nothing aside from kiss derek and stand in his apartment.
but then derek nods his head, and stiles draws in a slow breath through his nose. he tries to figure this out, wetting his lower lip, pressing the flat edges of his teeth into the flesh. his eyebrows pull together softly. derek looks pissed, but it's slightly different from his standard pissed face.
derek is okay, though. he says he's okay and that's a good place to start, even though stiles anticipates that derek has more to say. he startles slightly when derek slaps at the bat, jerking it away and lifting his other arm up in front of him like a diagonal barrier, palm open and facing out. he murmurs sharply (jesus. hey, just— okay, all right, it's), then very deliberately holds the bat behind himself, which just makes him look very gentlemanly. or like he's hiding something, which he is.
it takes him a second to refocus, tune back in. when he does, his throat and the bridge of his nose color with a faint blush, spreading out over the subtle rise of his cheekbones. he clears his throat quietly, almost a little awkwardly, but he's not uncomfortable, he's just - flattered. stiles wasn't even doing anything. stiles was literally just standing around.
he doesn't take it negatively. he doesn't quite understand why derek's so shy, but he feels a little bit emboldened, suddenly. stiles makes a show out of rolling his eyes when derek calls him annoying, like it's predictable or just - bland and unimpressive. but he's also smiling. it kind of looks a little bit like when someone has crossed the threshold beyond anger, and just dissolves into slightly maniac laughter, but stiles doesn't smell mad. he isn't angry.
stiles tilts his weight back onto his heels for a moment, then slowly rocks forward onto the balls of his feet, bat still held behind him with one hand. with his other, he reaches up and he curls his index finger under derek's chin so it lies flat, touches the pad of his thumb just under the swell of his lower lip.
he leans in, slowly, and he's still smiling, though it's softened a little. carefully, he inches his thumb up, touches derek's lip right in the middle and tugs down gently, briefly. and then he tilts himself the rest of the way in, and he kisses derek, and it's soft and gentle and brief. it's chaste, and when it's over, stiles keeps his hand where it is, he stays in close. his eyes flick between derek's eyes and his mouth.
he quotes: ]
... You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.
[ derek doesn't exactly understand why he's so shy, either. it's just - things keep catching up to him in staggered bursts. they got each other off in the barracks and derek was overwhelmed, but it took failed try after failed try before derek felt okay with kissing stiles. they played chess and derek knew that entire time that stiles wanted more, and that derek wanted more, but it wasn't until he was at breaking point that he actually made a move.
hell, even before things started getting serious - derek knew that stiles cared about him, and he knew that he cared about stiles, but it still took frozen feet and an afternoon of sleeping to jurassic park to realize that he wanted to be friends. took even longer to admit he wanted to contract him.
this is just an extension of that. they've fucked, they've become something. not just friends, not just contracted. derek went out of his way to call stiles his boyfriend, and stiles agreed, and now that's what they are. it just - took until now, where he could see stiles standing in front of him, being fucking cute and fucking perfect and fucking obnoxious just by having that fucking stupid face that derek really... felt it.
love. he's in love. he knew it, already, but fuck, look at him. derek could get lost just looking at stiles. how the fuck did he manage to land someone who thinks so highly of him? who takes care of him and saves his life and values him and knows all these horrible things he's done, and still just - stays? when this all goes to hell, he's not going to come back from it. he can't handle another loss. he won't be able to handle this one above all others.
stiles kisses him, and derek makes a noise of quiet discontent, but there's no real emotion behind the protest. it's just an attempt at saving face, even though he has no reason to even try. time stands still and things feel better, things feel anchored, and when stiles first starts to ease away, derek leans in after him and doesn't let him go. the kiss breaks, eventually, but stiles stays close and derek needed that.
he opens his eyes, though he couldn't say when they drifted shut. he looks at stiles, feels his breath, feels this thudding bass drum bolt through his system. he swallows, and he stays, and then he goes, because even though he'd stay here all day if he could, he knows he has to lean back, eventually. ]
Okay. Enough.
[ fucking princess bride, ugh. derek's enamored. he waves his hand through the air and takes a step back, smiling far too broadly than should be allowed. he doesn't want to be one of those guys who just - obsesses, and fawns, and makes who he's dating his entire life. he could be that guy, but he's been that guy twice before, and both times made him blind to a lot of very obvious signs that he shouldn't have missed. he needs to be able to hang out with stiles without immediately wanting to tell him he loves him, immediately wanting to kiss him, immediately wanting to fuck. he needs to stop being so fucking drunk on this.
okay. okay. he shakes his hands, takes a breath, composes himself. rolls up his sleeves, which is pretty unfair, because his biceps looked big when they were covered, and now it's even worse. he wets his lips, looks at stiles, then nods, man to man. okay. composed. very composed. derek "the most composed man" hale. here we go.
derek tugs on stiles' wrist again and walks further into the apartment, and he doesn't know where to go, at first, and it's obvious by the way he frowns and looks around in thought that he doesn't have a plan here. he focuses on the couch, thinks about throwing stiles down and making him play chess again. he looks to the kitchen, thinks about lunch, decides he's not hungry. he looks to the bathroom - thinks of stiles jerking off, thinks of how easy it would have been to join him when he showered over here, thinks of how they're going to break in the new shower once they move.
but that's! not! what! he's! supposed! to be thinking about! derek tugs on stiles' wrist more insistently and pulls him into the bedroom, where the backpack he wrestled from him is resting neatly on the covers. a movie seems safe? stiles is probably sick of watching movies, but a movie seems safe.
he looks at the bag, looks at stiles. nearly says "i really just want to blow you again", but doesn't. he wets his lips, then realizes a crucial step here should have been asking if stiles wanted to hang out, rather than just dragging him along by the arm and assuming he does. he pulls him to the bed anyway, pushes him down, then starts fidgeting with the zipper of the backpack without asking if it's okay. his attempts at being considerate are maybe a little flawed. ]
There's so much I want to do with you. Talk. Fuck. More. But.
[ he finds stiles' laptop, pulls it out, then frowns as he doublechecks the bag for the power cord. it's there, but he doesn't really believe that it's the right cable until he plugs it in, flips the outlet switch and sees the light in the corner saying the laptop's being charged, just because - as much as he loves stiles - he would not have been surprised if he forgot something from the down and had to go back and get it.
elbow-dropping to the bed, the mattress bounces a little, and derek pats the space in front of him. ]
[ they're boyfriends. stiles remembers this rather suddenly while he's still leaned in close, drawing in a deep breath through his nose. it's slightly sharper, like when you've been breathing shallowly for a while and your brain suddenly catches up and tries to make up for it by filling your lungs to capacity. for a moment, he feels slightly overwhelmed, but the anxiety is brief and manageable and nothing close to sour.
derek is his boyfriend, and they're dating, and this feels - this feels good. it feels good and it feels secure and stiles is glad that they're doing this. he's glad that they're going to stop living in separate places on opposite sides of the city, and he's glad they're going to exchange this highrise apartment for something a little more out of the way and private and more comfortable for derek, but also comfortable for stiles too.
stiles feels oddly calm about it, after his initial spike of nervousness.
derek smiles, so naturally, stiles smiles too, though it's much softer. it's faint, and it's fond, and he huffs a quiet breath out through his nose as derek waves his hand and puts and end to stiles' idiocy. derek said he was cute, but he was wrong. stiles is just dumb. he's dumb and he's awkward and he's goofy and sometimes a klutz. and he sometimes quotes older movies when he doesn't know what else to say.
stiles lets derek compose himself, and when he's done pulling himself together or whatever it is he's attempting to do, stiles is still waiting there to meet his eyes when he finally looks up. that little nod makes him want to laugh, derek's expression, all of it, but he saves it. he presses his lips together and he nods back, just once, and he lets himself be led.
at the threshold of the bedroom door, stiles pauses for half a beat and he leans and he does his best to prop his bat up against the door frame, but it's a poor effort. the bat rolls slightly, and then flops own with a muted thump against the carpet. stiles leaves it, and lets derek guide him the rest of the way.
admittedly, he gets the wrong idea at first, though he can hardly be blamed for it when derek is leading him straight to the bedroom after mentioning how badly he wants to kiss stiles. stiles' heart beat skips a little and he twists his hand slightly so he can ghost his fingers along the inside of derek's wrist. he sits down when derek pushes at him, bouncing slightly, unintentional.
and then derek lets him go an he leaves him and he starts to unzip stiles' backpack instead, which forces him to reevaluate. stiles swallows. he's not disappointed, just - a little off track, apparently, which is fine. he's still content. he watches as derek unzips his bag, watches him slide out his laptop and plug it in and flip the switch, and it's all very simple. it's literally nothing, but it's also not nothing.
stiles is going to sleep here with derek tonight. he's slept here before, but he'll sleep here tonight and the only leaving he'll have to do is when he gets out of bed to maybe make some coffee in the morning if derek doesn't beat him to it. if derek even has coffee. he'll leave bed and check if derek has coffee but that's the only sort of leaving he'll do, and there's something comforting in that.
the mattress jostles when derek flops own, jarring stiles out of his drifty thoughts. he blinks a couple times, eyelashes fluttering rapidly, and at derek's invitation, he twists and he climbs up onto the bed and he crawls over on his hands and knees. he stretches out on his stomach in front of derek and he drags his laptop a little so he can start opening him his movie file. ]
I watched one of the Exorcist movies the other day. One of the sequels, although I guess this one was kind of a prequel? Sort of? I dunno, it was garbage. I think I downloaded it forever ago - uh, totally, legally downloaded it - thinking it would be like, halfway decent but.
[ he shrugs, glancing at derek for a moment before he looks back at the screen, tabbing down through the long list of titles. he taps the down arrow key a few times, jumping down to the fall, and cues it up. stiles moves the laptop back, sliding it over the covers so it's in a better place for derek to see it, even if they don't end up watching it. as the opening credits roll, stiles flips from his stomach onto his back and tucks one arm behind his head, turning his head so his cheek rests against his bicep, his other hand splayed lightly over his ribs.
after a beat, he thinks to check on derek, craning his head the other way to look up at him. ]
Can you see okay? There's not a, a glare or anything, right? I can move it.
[ stiles sets up their movie, tells him what they're watching. derek's already zoning out. again, he keeps feeling these hard, heavy realizations in attuned, perceptive bursts - stiles crawled onto the bed with him and pushed open the laptop with his hand, and derek just stared, because it hit him as hard as ever that this... this is his boyfriend. this is his boyfriend, and this is the one person in the world who has had his back when nobody else has, and this is the guy who is just...
his. his? stiles is his. stiles isn't the stupid, annoying kid who didn't know how to handle him; stiles is the grown-ass adult who has been shaped by the world peter forced him into. this is someone kind and loyal and resilient and fucking intelligent, this is someone who is incredibly out of his league but still offers him the kind of love derek thought he'd never have again. this is the reason why derek's so purely, completely happy to be in a city filled with violence and oppression and misery.
derek watches stiles settle, feeling... just... fond. fond of the way stiles, son of a cop, totally pirates movies. fond of the way his hair falls, softer and longer than it ever was at home. fond of the way he makes sure derek can see the screen, fond of the way he lays down, fond of him. it takes derek a second or two to zone back in and realize that stiles asked him a question. ]
Oh - it's fine. Perfect.
[ derek lays down, too, stretching out mostly on his back, halfway on his side. he inches in close to stiles, and he's not sure if they're at the point where they're allowed to just... hold each other during a movie, and - truthfully - even if they are, he doesn't really remember how to do that. that's not going to stop him from taking the chance; tentatively, he reaches out, and he curls arm over stiles' waist, resting his hand against his hip. it's a little awkward, with stiles flat on his back and the laptop slightly out of sight at this angle, but.
derek doesn't mind.
for a while, things are quiet. a few film studios get introduced on screen, there's the humming of old, familiar logos that existed back home but not here. the score to the film picks up, an actor that derek thinks he might recognize but probably doesn't starts setting up the scene. derek moves closer to stiles, and he closes his eyes. they're not quite spooning - they're sort of face to face, with the laptop a few inches above derek's head, and stiles' arm is still comfortably resting on his own chest - but it's cozy, and it's warm, and this is why derek couldn't wait for stiles to move in. this is what he missed.
eventually, he talks. ]
Hey.
[ he moves his hand further back, draping it over stiles' side and resting against his lower back. he rests on his free arm, curling it beneath his head and laying his cheek on his elbow, and he just... looks at stiles, for a second. still fond. ]
I really like you. I know that's sort of weird to say out of nowhere - but.
[ he shrugs, just with one shoulder, nestling further into the bed. the sun hasn't set yet, but the room itself is kind of dark, and stiles looks like he's glowing in the dull, manufactured light from the laptop. half his face is illuminated by the screen, and he just looks... he just makes derek feel safe. it's comforting, seeing him like this. derek wets his lips, and he knows he's going to sound self-defeating when he says this, he knows he's going to sound like he's fishing for reassurance or attention or compliments or something, but he's really not.
but kate's still on his mind, paige is still on his mind. there are things he needs to address. faults in himself he knows stiles is going to have to deal with, if they're serious about this thing. he struggles with honesty, with opening up, he struggles with his temper. everything he wants to do feels new and scary, and he's worried that stiles won't have the patience to deal with helping a fucking twenty two year old man adjust to normal social interaction between two people who are dating.
derek takes a few seconds, then keeps going. ]
I know I'm kind of an asshole, and I know I have a lot of shit to get over before I can be a half-way decent boyfriend, but. If this gets fucked up - you and me - it's not gonna be your fault. You're... pretty incredible. I'm really lucky.
[ stiles should be aware of the staring. he should be aware of derek's eyes on him because he can almost always sense when he's being watched, hypervigilant to the point that he sometimes comes off as overly paranoid. but he doesn't notice, and maybe it's just because derek makes him feel safe. he doesn't get that prickly feeling at the nape of his neck or that tight feeling in his chest because derek isn't a threat to him. derek has never been a threat to him, not really. sure, he's a predator, and he could rip stiles' throat out without even breaking a sweat if he wanted to. sure, he sometimes has long, sharp teeth and sharper claws, but stiles can't ever recall a time derek ever turned those things on him with the intent to hurt him.
so he doesn't notice the staring, at least not until he's actually looking at derek, but he does notice that it's taking derek longer than necessary to answer a simple yes or no question. stiles waits another second or two, idly wondering if maybe derek just didn't hear him, even though it's pretty quiet in the apartment and the movie isn't that loud and derek has heightened senses to rely on. he considers repeating himself, but derek answers and stiles seems pretty satisfied, craning his head back up and turning his attention back to his laptop.
he doesn't react much to derek sliding his arm over his waist. his heart stutters a little, quick and soft and easy, just because he's pleased. but he's also content and comfortable and just - really, really happy. he feels warm, both inside and out. the last time stiles felt this relaxed was - well, it was probably the last time he stayed the night here with derek, but even this is different. this is a kind of peace stiles hasn't felt in a long, long time.
stiles breathes out slowly, lazing comfortably next to derek as he watches the opening scenes unfold. he's seen this movie before, plenty of times actually, but the sets and the color composition and the finer details never fail to draw stiles in and hold his attention. the little girl's ridiculous arm cast and her tendency to hold objects in her stationary hand never fails to amuse him either. somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers derek moving closer, the small space left between them dipping just a little under derek's shifting weight. stiles doesn't really think about it and absently tilts himself slightly onto his side toward derek, his eyes still on his laptop, cheek still pressed into his bicep.
as engrossed as he is by the movie, derek is still more important, more interesting, and as soon as derek speaks, stiles' eyes shift. he tilts his chin down slightly so he can look at him more directly, blinking a couple times to adjust his focus, eyebrows lifting with gentle curiosity. he turns fully onto his side as derek slides his hand to his lower back, giving him his full attention. stiles doesn't know what to do with those few seconds of silence though with derek looking at him the way he is, so he takes his hand from where it's settled in the space between them and gently taps the back of his fist against derek's chest, lightly thumping his knuckles against his pec as he murmurs a quiet 'hmm?'
and then derek hits him with i really like you. stiles breathes out through his nose, one quiet, rushed exhale, and pushes his fist a little more firmly against derek's chest, suddenly a little bashful. he presses his lips together, but it doesn't do much to hide the faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, however brief it is. stiles rubs his cheek against his arm like he's trying to wipe away the heat of a barely-there blush, then shifts and settles in just a fraction closer to derek, bending one of his knees until it bumps up against his. ]
S'not stupid. I like - I like... hearing you say it.
[ his own voice is just a quiet hum, low and slightly rough, and it fills the handful of quiet moments in between before derek speaks again. stiles' fingers absently pinch at derek's shirt for a second or two, eyes lowered just slightly, and then he moves his hand to his shoulder, letting it slide lazily down his bicep.
someone narrates quietly somewhere in the background, telling the story of a bandit and his brother, a princess. stiles doesn't hear it at all, in favor if listening to derek instead.
he doesn't agree. stiles doesn't agree that derek is only half-decent, he doesn't agree that if something does go wrong between them, that it's automatically going to be because of something derek did or something he caused or something he didn't do - but he doesn't interrupt, either, and when derek calls him incredible, when derek says he's lucky to have stiles of all people, he's left feeling a little bit breathless for a moment.
stiles' brows pinch slightly, the space between them creasing softly. he looks a little awed, and also a little sad if you look hard enough, long enough. stiles shakes his head, cheek squishing against his arm before he lifts his head to adjust how he's laying. ]
Derek - you're a good boyfriend. You're a great boyfriend. I know - I know we only just... put a label on - all of this, but I know you're great boyfriend because you're a great person. [ he squeezes derek's bicep. ] Don't argue with me on that because you will lose.
[ stiles smiles a little lopsidedly, looking at derek with fondness and adoration and love. he hasn't told derek he loves him again, not since he told him back in the down after his terrible nightmare, but that's not because he feels any differently. he just doesn't want to overwhelm him, doesn't want to push things or make derek feel pressured or obligated or uncomfortable, but god, does stiles love him so much.
his smile fades a little, expression softening. stiles wets his lips and takes an easy breath in, making sure to look derek in the eyes if he'll let him. ]
But you're already taking the blame for something that - probably won't even happen. You can't do that. Please don't do that. You've got - shit to deal with, I've got shit to deal with too, but - we can do that together.
[ he sounds a little unsure, but he also sounds quietly hopeful, too. lord knows stiles has his own mountain of issues, whether they stem from low self-esteem, or putting every iota of energy he's got into being enough or doing enough only to never be told or reassured that he is, or his last, questionable relationship, the only one he's ever had - but stiles isn't willing to let those things soil what he's building with derek, not if he can help it.
stiles is the lucky one, though. back home, derek trusted stiles, probably more than anyone else has save for his own father. derek paid him attention and he acknowledged his intelligence and his efforts, even while rolling his eyes and calling him names, and it sucked when derek left, when stiles lost that. but he has that here, too. he has that now, and stiles is so, so lucky that derek likes him. he's lucky he has someone like derek, who sees him even when stiles feels unseen.
he rubs his cheek against his arm again, gets through a few false starts. ]
You're not... lucky. I don't mean that like— I'm not saying you're an unlucky person, but I mean you just. [ he's a little nervous and he can already tell he's starting to stumble a little, so he takes a second to take a breath and pull himself back. ] You deserve better than the things that've happened to you.
[ both the things derek knows about, and the things he doesn't, things stiles has promised himself he'll tell derek if only for the small chance derek can change his future. stiles wets his lips, his eyes dipping for a second or two. ]
I... want to be that. I want to be better because you deserve that much. I'm trying.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I know about Paige.
I know about what happened to her.
I know she's why your eyes used to be blue.
And I know you tried to save her after Peter made you believe you needed to change her.
I don't think you were stupid or naive.
I just think you trusted your uncle. It's not your fault he had other motives.
[ but. anyway. the elevator starts to slow as it approaches the upper level, and stiles has half the mind to push past a few people to mash his thumb against the doors open button, but. he still has to pick up his things, which he'll do in a minute. ]
I want you to be happy. I want you to feel happy and I don't ever want you to feel scared
Of me or of us.
I mean that's kind of hypocritical of me because I'm scared too but
I just really, really want this
And I don't want to do something wrong or like
Overstep or say something too stupid to come back from so it just
Makes me nervous
A lot
You make me nervous but like
In the best way I guess.
And believe me
If you think I'm gonna tell you to stop saying all these nice things about me because you're getting "carried away"
Well I've never laughed so hard in my life.
Elevator's almost stopped.
Hopefully some asshole hasn't pushed all the buttons again in your building.
I don't know if I can run up all those stairs with this extra weight.
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but the fact that stiles knows so much about paige gets to him, a little, because he doesn't talk about her. he's said her name twice in the past eight or so years, and both of them were to stiles within the last few days. for stiles to know not only about their relationship, but about her death, and about peter? to know, and - to not be disgusted with him?
it's a lot. it's a lot, to think that stiles still wants him despite knowing what he knows. derek wets his lips, starts pacing again, feels his stomach get unsettled. he can't talk about paige anymore, not over the phone. he moves past it. ]
That's how I feel. I don't want to overstep, I don't want to do anything wrong.
I don't want to hurt you. That's what I'm afraid of.
But.
[ elevator's almost stopped. derek gets annoyed, again. he can't wait to just... move. live together. not have to wait all the time. ]
I know you won't screw this up.
I don't think you could if you tried.
You're smart. Kind.
Caring. You've cared about me more than... anyone else ever has. Except for my mom, maybe.
You make me feel like I'm okay. That's a hard thing to do.
Nobody's ever made me feel this okay.
no subject
You deserve it.
I know you probably don't think you do
But I'm usually always right so you're just going to have to trust that I know what I'm talking about.
You deserve to feel okay for once.
And I'll do whatever I have to do to make sure I don't do anything to mess that up
Gotta run though
See you soon.
[ stiles pockets his phone and scrambles to pick his things up, barely making it out of the elevator before the doors close, twisting his body sideways to avoid shoulder-checking one of the doors.
he's been in the up dozens of times before, maybe hundreds, but this feels - different. maybe it's not even the up, maybe it's just - the purpose for this trek. his backpack is heavy, his arms are full. he's going to see derek and he's not going to have to leave in the morning for fear of overstaying his welcome.
they're going to move and have a space that's theirs, private. something closer to the woods, with a lot of windows and a lot of space and. it's just. stiles is happy. it's weird, to feel happy in a city that has, so far, been the primary source of his misery, his frayed nerves, anxiety. but he feels good now. he feels so good that he almost does kind of want to run to derek, but he knows himself, and he knows he'll likely trip, because running is - weird, with your arms crossed over your body. so he settles for speed walking.
stiles makes it to the highrise in roughly five minutes, and when he presses the button for the elevator with the back of his wrist, it only takes a handful of seconds for the doors to open. stiles steps in, immediately turns - and sets his stuff down on the floor again to free up both of his hands.
there's a little trick he knows. it doesn't work in all elevators - mostly only older models -, but it's handy when it works. stiles presses and holds the doors close button, pushes and holds the button for the 89th floor, and doesn't let either button go until the doors are closed and the lift starts to move. even if it does work, he's got time, so he picks up his stuff - a pile of folded clothes, mostly flannel shirts and a couple pairs of chinos
it works though. either there's nobody between the first and 89th floors waiting for the elevator, or stiles' little bypass trick worked, because the elevator doesn't stop the whole way, and when the doors finally open again, stiles is... yawning. well, he's trying to pop his ears, but it looks like he's yawning, working his jaw. he rounds the corner out into the common space between the two apartments on this floor and when he gets to derek's door he feels - excited. excited and stupid and kind of nervous but it's good-nervous. he lifts his foot, intending to kick the bottom of a couple times in lieu of knocking because his arms are full of the clothes he couldn't fit in his backpack (and his bat is tucked underneath the straps of his bag, across his shoulders, i almost forgot about his dumb bat)--
but the door opens before his shoe can make contact so his foot swings out a little further than expected before he just - steps forward onto it. stiles looks at derek over the pile of folded laundry held close to his chest, he smiles, small and dumb. ]
... Hey. Made it. I, uh. I tricked the elevator.
no subject
but then he lets that go and actually listens, really fores himself to reread what stiles said. the promise to be there for him, the unwavering determination to see derek in a light that he just doesn't understand. stiles has been nothing but good and kind and supportive, even back home. he didn't have to keep him alive, all those times he did. he didn't ever have to care about him.
so derek paces by his front door again, waiting, impatient. this place has felt so much better, since stiles started coming over - there's a soda stain on the carpet from where they first played chess, derek has some of stiles' clothes washed and folded by his bed, he can smell stiles in the sheets. the new place is going to have stiles ingrained in it, and derek might not be able to survive it.
he hears stiles coming through the door, ears picking up and head raised like a dog hearing its owner come back from the store. derek genuinely tries to be good, he genuinely tries to hold himself back from playing all his cards and showing just how badly he wants to see him, but he honestly can't help himself. stiles stands by the door and derek swings it open, and when he sees him, he can't find the words to express just how happy he is that he's here.
so he doesn't bother using them. he all but dashes forward, sets his hands against stiles' jawline, and he takes him in a kiss, sweet and frantic. he closes his eyes and he just feels stiles' lips against his own, breathing a sigh through his nose like he's finally able to just relax, after hours of being tense and alone, hours of waiting. he holds his breath while they kiss, and he doesn't mind the feeling of his lungs burning when they run out of air.
he pulls back, looking at stiles with his usual level of stern, unapproachable apathy, but there's color in his cheeks, and he doesn't seem to know where to look, flicking his eyes over every inch of stiles' face or off to the side. he breathes in deep, filling his chest, then lets go. he takes stiles' things without asking, then heads into the bedroom to set them down.
derek comes back to the entrance with his thumb grazing over his bottom lip, like he can still feel stiles against him, then quickly drops his arm the second he realizes he could be seen. he's moving sort of mechanically, like he's not really paying attention to what he's doing - his mind's still on the kiss, on stiles, too distracted for anything else. he turns on his heel, looks at stiles, and he's touching his lip again, automatic and unnoticed. he's forgotten to actually say hi.
so. shit. okay. he raises his other arm. gives a bit of a wave, scrunching his fingers down to his palm. ]
Hey.
no subject
instead, he melts. his eyes close and he sighs out through his nose and he leans into derek just a bit, pressing his crossed arms into derek's chest, squashing his clothes between the both of them. his stupid bat catches in the doorway, which is frustrating, but probably also a good thing, otherwise he might have just fallen right on in, tripped right into derek, moreso than he already has.
when derek pulls back, stiles only barely manages not to tilt forward, his eyes still closed and his lips still gently pursed. he looks like an idiot. he looks so dumb but he feels kind of floaty and loose and content. he swipes his tongue across lower lip, and then opens his eyes, only because derek is - taking all of his stuff from him. stiles lets it all go, twists to let derek pull his backpack off of him. he keeps the bat, just because he forgets to hand it over.
stiles stays in the entryway. for a second or three he just stands there, a little dumb-looking as he glances around the apartment. his eyes fall on the darkened stain on the carpet, which makes his stomach flip and swoop a little with a tiny wave of arousal. he's going to live with derek. he and derek are going to live together. here, for a night or two probably, and then they're going to move and leave this place behind and stiles is... really excited about it. as fondly as he looks at the carpet stain, there isn't really a whole lot he's going to miss about this apartment once he and derek set up in a new place.
he glances up when derek comes back, watching him quietly as he touches his lip. stiles casually leans the wide end of his bat against the floor, leans some of his weight into the handle, using it as a crutch. like a makeshift cane. he opens his fingers around the flat base, then flexes them and curls them into a fist, scratching at the back of one calf with his opposite foot.
stiles is smiling when derek finally looks up, though it's faint and you kind of have to squint to see it. he raises his eyebrows questioningly, but finds himself breaking out into a wider, brighter, slightly lopsided smile. he lifts his free hand, splays his fingers a little in an awkward wave. ]
... Hi. Where'd you go?
[ not like - physically. stiles knows he went to the bedroom to put his stuff down, but derek looks a little spacey and distracted, and he keeps touching his bottom lip and it's. kind of cute. it's really cute. just to be clear, though, stiles lifts his awkward wave-y hand and taps his fingers to the side of his own head. ]
no subject
[ stiles asks where he went, and derek tries to act like he hadn't heard the question. he lifts his eyebrows and purses his lips, putting his hand in his pocket so it stops touching his fucking mouth, and it's pretty obvious that he's just buying time while trying to come up with an answer. the red in his cheeks gets a little heavier, he glances away like he's been caught. he's actually kind of shy. that's new, for him. he's not a fan of this feeling. ]
Oh. Uh. Just - you know.
[ he clears his throat and waves his hand through the air, as if that's enough of an explanation, and he shrugs one shoulder, ready to move on without putting a voice to all the bullshit in his head. he likes stiles. he likes kissing stiles, and he's spacey and distracted because he just keeps thinking about how he wants to do it again. his hand's out of his pocket and ready to touch his lip again, but he catches himself and scratches the space between his eyebrows, instead. he looks back to stiles, and he feels sort of clumsy. like there's too much energy in him and he doesn't know how to vent it.
ugh, this is stupid. he's acting like a fucking idiot. derek rolls his shoulders, sets his posture straight, tries to flip a switch in his head that'll turn him into a big, tough werewolf man. it doesn't really work, because he looks at stiles standing in the doorway, leaning on his bat and smiling, and it gets in his head and makes everything worse. derek looks at him in silence, just for a second or two, and then he exhales, hard and sharp. he looks at stiles like he's pissing him off. ]
Stop.
[ again, he gestures, pointing two fingers at stiles and dropping his hand from his head to his toes. just sort of indicating at stiles' entire body. ]
You're doing this on purpose. Making it worse.
[ acting cute, being cute, making derek want to kiss him again. derek shakes his head and steps forward, grabbing stiles by the wrist, just for an excuse to touch him, and he pulls him in over the threshold of the entrance so he can shut and lock the door behind him. when the two of them are sealed away in the apartment, he feels like he should be able to relax more, but it just doesn't happen. he's itchy under his skin and he keeps looking at stiles like he just can't help it. like he's worse, when he looks away from him.
he's got it pretty bad. ]
no subject
and he waits. he waits until he wants to laugh, which is right about when derek's cheeks flush a darker shade of pink. his chest constricts a little with a laugh that he's fighting to keep inside, lest derek take it the wrong way and assume he's laughing at him when really he's just - happy. stiles has never really seen derek like this before, so it's strange and new and... endearing. if scott knew stiles was standing here looking at derek, endeared to him, he'd probably pop a blood vessel (but that's fine - it'd heal).
derek gestures vaguely. stiles squints his eyes slightly and he leans a little more of his weight on his bat-hand, and he has to pinch his mouth a little tighter because derek is just. he's floundering. stiles doesn't know why or where this sudden, flustery derek is coming from, but he doesn't hate it, even if derek seems to be struggling a little.
and then derek tells him to stop, and any amusement that might have been shaping his features quickly disappears because derek looks kind of mad. stiles' mouth slackens slightly, his eyebrows pinch, he kind of juts his chin forward a little, paused with his foot between the back of his knee and his ankle. his fingers flex around the bat, open, then closed again. derek gestures at him again and he makes an accusation, and stiles has the nerve to look entirely offended and partially confused. ]
Doing— I'm not even—
[ derek steps toward him though which shuts stiles up for some reason, and when derek takes his wrist and pulls him forward out of the entryway and into the apartment, he comes easily. he stumbles a little, just because he was actually, genuinely using the bat to support his weight, and he also had a foot up off the ground, but he moves when derek moves him, with very little resistance.
stiles stands close, but he softens a little, eyebrows swooping gently upward in the middle, expressing some mild concern. ]
Making - hey, making what worse on purpose? [ stiles' eyes roam over derek's face, tracing the sharp lines and soft slopes. he lifts the bat between them, hand curled around it somewhere in the middle, and he gently touches the narrow end of it to derek's chest. ] ... You okay?
no subject
but stiles is concerned. stiles is concerned, suddenly, and that makes derek feel like a bit of an asshole, because he's just - being shy, he's not actually mad, of course he's not actually mad. he shakes his head, guilty, trying to just shut down everything stiles is worried about, but then he realize that must look like he's saying no, he's not okay, so he nods, instead. and then that just makes him think he looks fucking indecisive and stupid, so he looks more pissed off, and it's all just - a mess.
words. okay. words. ]
Yes. I'm okay. Obviously I'm okay. I'm--
[ okay, hold on. derek swats at the bat pressed against his chest like a cat getting ticked off by an egregiously persistent fly. he slaps at it until it's gone, and it - kind of hurt his hand, actually, so he shakes his hand out a little, feels like he's being even more stupid, and starts from the beginning. ]
I'm okay. You're just cute. You're being cute. I want to kiss you again. I want to kiss you so much. It's...
[ he frowns, shakes his head. he's making this out to be something - negative, but it's not, of course it's not. it's just a lot, and stiles has to realize that the quirks of his brows and the soft little smiles and even this, the genuine, immediate concern, it's all just - hard-hitting. derek looks at stiles, more pouty than actually angry, now that he's up close, and he thinks of the barracks, he thinks of the first time they touched each other.
it's funny, how long ago that feels. it's barely been a month. ]
Annoying. You're annoying me.
no subject
the mixed signals are throwing him for a loop, though. derek shakes his head no, he's not okay, and stiles immediately straightens up a little, his shoulders squaring off like he's geared to handle whatever the issue here is, even if he's suddenly nervous that he's actually done something wrong. even though he's done literally nothing aside from kiss derek and stand in his apartment.
but then derek nods his head, and stiles draws in a slow breath through his nose. he tries to figure this out, wetting his lower lip, pressing the flat edges of his teeth into the flesh. his eyebrows pull together softly. derek looks pissed, but it's slightly different from his standard pissed face.
derek is okay, though. he says he's okay and that's a good place to start, even though stiles anticipates that derek has more to say. he startles slightly when derek slaps at the bat, jerking it away and lifting his other arm up in front of him like a diagonal barrier, palm open and facing out. he murmurs sharply (jesus. hey, just— okay, all right, it's), then very deliberately holds the bat behind himself, which just makes him look very gentlemanly. or like he's hiding something, which he is.
it takes him a second to refocus, tune back in. when he does, his throat and the bridge of his nose color with a faint blush, spreading out over the subtle rise of his cheekbones. he clears his throat quietly, almost a little awkwardly, but he's not uncomfortable, he's just - flattered. stiles wasn't even doing anything. stiles was literally just standing around.
he doesn't take it negatively. he doesn't quite understand why derek's so shy, but he feels a little bit emboldened, suddenly. stiles makes a show out of rolling his eyes when derek calls him annoying, like it's predictable or just - bland and unimpressive. but he's also smiling. it kind of looks a little bit like when someone has crossed the threshold beyond anger, and just dissolves into slightly maniac laughter, but stiles doesn't smell mad. he isn't angry.
stiles tilts his weight back onto his heels for a moment, then slowly rocks forward onto the balls of his feet, bat still held behind him with one hand. with his other, he reaches up and he curls his index finger under derek's chin so it lies flat, touches the pad of his thumb just under the swell of his lower lip.
he leans in, slowly, and he's still smiling, though it's softened a little. carefully, he inches his thumb up, touches derek's lip right in the middle and tugs down gently, briefly. and then he tilts himself the rest of the way in, and he kisses derek, and it's soft and gentle and brief. it's chaste, and when it's over, stiles keeps his hand where it is, he stays in close. his eyes flick between derek's eyes and his mouth.
he quotes: ]
... You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.
no subject
hell, even before things started getting serious - derek knew that stiles cared about him, and he knew that he cared about stiles, but it still took frozen feet and an afternoon of sleeping to jurassic park to realize that he wanted to be friends. took even longer to admit he wanted to contract him.
this is just an extension of that. they've fucked, they've become something. not just friends, not just contracted. derek went out of his way to call stiles his boyfriend, and stiles agreed, and now that's what they are. it just - took until now, where he could see stiles standing in front of him, being fucking cute and fucking perfect and fucking obnoxious just by having that fucking stupid face that derek really... felt it.
love. he's in love. he knew it, already, but fuck, look at him. derek could get lost just looking at stiles. how the fuck did he manage to land someone who thinks so highly of him? who takes care of him and saves his life and values him and knows all these horrible things he's done, and still just - stays? when this all goes to hell, he's not going to come back from it. he can't handle another loss. he won't be able to handle this one above all others.
stiles kisses him, and derek makes a noise of quiet discontent, but there's no real emotion behind the protest. it's just an attempt at saving face, even though he has no reason to even try. time stands still and things feel better, things feel anchored, and when stiles first starts to ease away, derek leans in after him and doesn't let him go. the kiss breaks, eventually, but stiles stays close and derek needed that.
he opens his eyes, though he couldn't say when they drifted shut. he looks at stiles, feels his breath, feels this thudding bass drum bolt through his system. he swallows, and he stays, and then he goes, because even though he'd stay here all day if he could, he knows he has to lean back, eventually. ]
Okay. Enough.
[ fucking princess bride, ugh. derek's enamored. he waves his hand through the air and takes a step back, smiling far too broadly than should be allowed. he doesn't want to be one of those guys who just - obsesses, and fawns, and makes who he's dating his entire life. he could be that guy, but he's been that guy twice before, and both times made him blind to a lot of very obvious signs that he shouldn't have missed. he needs to be able to hang out with stiles without immediately wanting to tell him he loves him, immediately wanting to kiss him, immediately wanting to fuck. he needs to stop being so fucking drunk on this.
okay. okay. he shakes his hands, takes a breath, composes himself. rolls up his sleeves, which is pretty unfair, because his biceps looked big when they were covered, and now it's even worse. he wets his lips, looks at stiles, then nods, man to man. okay. composed. very composed. derek "the most composed man" hale. here we go.
derek tugs on stiles' wrist again and walks further into the apartment, and he doesn't know where to go, at first, and it's obvious by the way he frowns and looks around in thought that he doesn't have a plan here. he focuses on the couch, thinks about throwing stiles down and making him play chess again. he looks to the kitchen, thinks about lunch, decides he's not hungry. he looks to the bathroom - thinks of stiles jerking off, thinks of how easy it would have been to join him when he showered over here, thinks of how they're going to break in the new shower once they move.
but that's! not! what! he's! supposed! to be thinking about! derek tugs on stiles' wrist more insistently and pulls him into the bedroom, where the backpack he wrestled from him is resting neatly on the covers. a movie seems safe? stiles is probably sick of watching movies, but a movie seems safe.
he looks at the bag, looks at stiles. nearly says "i really just want to blow you again", but doesn't. he wets his lips, then realizes a crucial step here should have been asking if stiles wanted to hang out, rather than just dragging him along by the arm and assuming he does. he pulls him to the bed anyway, pushes him down, then starts fidgeting with the zipper of the backpack without asking if it's okay. his attempts at being considerate are maybe a little flawed. ]
There's so much I want to do with you. Talk. Fuck. More. But.
[ he finds stiles' laptop, pulls it out, then frowns as he doublechecks the bag for the power cord. it's there, but he doesn't really believe that it's the right cable until he plugs it in, flips the outlet switch and sees the light in the corner saying the laptop's being charged, just because - as much as he loves stiles - he would not have been surprised if he forgot something from the down and had to go back and get it.
elbow-dropping to the bed, the mattress bounces a little, and derek pats the space in front of him. ]
Background noise is good. Pick something out.
no subject
derek is his boyfriend, and they're dating, and this feels - this feels good. it feels good and it feels secure and stiles is glad that they're doing this. he's glad that they're going to stop living in separate places on opposite sides of the city, and he's glad they're going to exchange this highrise apartment for something a little more out of the way and private and more comfortable for derek, but also comfortable for stiles too.
stiles feels oddly calm about it, after his initial spike of nervousness.
derek smiles, so naturally, stiles smiles too, though it's much softer. it's faint, and it's fond, and he huffs a quiet breath out through his nose as derek waves his hand and puts and end to stiles' idiocy. derek said he was cute, but he was wrong. stiles is just dumb. he's dumb and he's awkward and he's goofy and sometimes a klutz. and he sometimes quotes older movies when he doesn't know what else to say.
stiles lets derek compose himself, and when he's done pulling himself together or whatever it is he's attempting to do, stiles is still waiting there to meet his eyes when he finally looks up. that little nod makes him want to laugh, derek's expression, all of it, but he saves it. he presses his lips together and he nods back, just once, and he lets himself be led.
at the threshold of the bedroom door, stiles pauses for half a beat and he leans and he does his best to prop his bat up against the door frame, but it's a poor effort. the bat rolls slightly, and then flops own with a muted thump against the carpet. stiles leaves it, and lets derek guide him the rest of the way.
admittedly, he gets the wrong idea at first, though he can hardly be blamed for it when derek is leading him straight to the bedroom after mentioning how badly he wants to kiss stiles. stiles' heart beat skips a little and he twists his hand slightly so he can ghost his fingers along the inside of derek's wrist. he sits down when derek pushes at him, bouncing slightly, unintentional.
and then derek lets him go an he leaves him and he starts to unzip stiles' backpack instead, which forces him to reevaluate. stiles swallows. he's not disappointed, just - a little off track, apparently, which is fine. he's still content. he watches as derek unzips his bag, watches him slide out his laptop and plug it in and flip the switch, and it's all very simple. it's literally nothing, but it's also not nothing.
stiles is going to sleep here with derek tonight. he's slept here before, but he'll sleep here tonight and the only leaving he'll have to do is when he gets out of bed to maybe make some coffee in the morning if derek doesn't beat him to it. if derek even has coffee. he'll leave bed and check if derek has coffee but that's the only sort of leaving he'll do, and there's something comforting in that.
the mattress jostles when derek flops own, jarring stiles out of his drifty thoughts. he blinks a couple times, eyelashes fluttering rapidly, and at derek's invitation, he twists and he climbs up onto the bed and he crawls over on his hands and knees. he stretches out on his stomach in front of derek and he drags his laptop a little so he can start opening him his movie file. ]
I watched one of the Exorcist movies the other day. One of the sequels, although I guess this one was kind of a prequel? Sort of? I dunno, it was garbage. I think I downloaded it forever ago - uh, totally, legally downloaded it - thinking it would be like, halfway decent but.
[ he shrugs, glancing at derek for a moment before he looks back at the screen, tabbing down through the long list of titles. he taps the down arrow key a few times, jumping down to the fall, and cues it up. stiles moves the laptop back, sliding it over the covers so it's in a better place for derek to see it, even if they don't end up watching it. as the opening credits roll, stiles flips from his stomach onto his back and tucks one arm behind his head, turning his head so his cheek rests against his bicep, his other hand splayed lightly over his ribs.
after a beat, he thinks to check on derek, craning his head the other way to look up at him. ]
Can you see okay? There's not a, a glare or anything, right? I can move it.
no subject
his. his? stiles is his. stiles isn't the stupid, annoying kid who didn't know how to handle him; stiles is the grown-ass adult who has been shaped by the world peter forced him into. this is someone kind and loyal and resilient and fucking intelligent, this is someone who is incredibly out of his league but still offers him the kind of love derek thought he'd never have again. this is the reason why derek's so purely, completely happy to be in a city filled with violence and oppression and misery.
derek watches stiles settle, feeling... just... fond. fond of the way stiles, son of a cop, totally pirates movies. fond of the way his hair falls, softer and longer than it ever was at home. fond of the way he makes sure derek can see the screen, fond of the way he lays down, fond of him. it takes derek a second or two to zone back in and realize that stiles asked him a question. ]
Oh - it's fine. Perfect.
[ derek lays down, too, stretching out mostly on his back, halfway on his side. he inches in close to stiles, and he's not sure if they're at the point where they're allowed to just... hold each other during a movie, and - truthfully - even if they are, he doesn't really remember how to do that. that's not going to stop him from taking the chance; tentatively, he reaches out, and he curls arm over stiles' waist, resting his hand against his hip. it's a little awkward, with stiles flat on his back and the laptop slightly out of sight at this angle, but.
derek doesn't mind.
for a while, things are quiet. a few film studios get introduced on screen, there's the humming of old, familiar logos that existed back home but not here. the score to the film picks up, an actor that derek thinks he might recognize but probably doesn't starts setting up the scene. derek moves closer to stiles, and he closes his eyes. they're not quite spooning - they're sort of face to face, with the laptop a few inches above derek's head, and stiles' arm is still comfortably resting on his own chest - but it's cozy, and it's warm, and this is why derek couldn't wait for stiles to move in. this is what he missed.
eventually, he talks. ]
Hey.
[ he moves his hand further back, draping it over stiles' side and resting against his lower back. he rests on his free arm, curling it beneath his head and laying his cheek on his elbow, and he just... looks at stiles, for a second. still fond. ]
I really like you. I know that's sort of weird to say out of nowhere - but.
[ he shrugs, just with one shoulder, nestling further into the bed. the sun hasn't set yet, but the room itself is kind of dark, and stiles looks like he's glowing in the dull, manufactured light from the laptop. half his face is illuminated by the screen, and he just looks... he just makes derek feel safe. it's comforting, seeing him like this. derek wets his lips, and he knows he's going to sound self-defeating when he says this, he knows he's going to sound like he's fishing for reassurance or attention or compliments or something, but he's really not.
but kate's still on his mind, paige is still on his mind. there are things he needs to address. faults in himself he knows stiles is going to have to deal with, if they're serious about this thing. he struggles with honesty, with opening up, he struggles with his temper. everything he wants to do feels new and scary, and he's worried that stiles won't have the patience to deal with helping a fucking twenty two year old man adjust to normal social interaction between two people who are dating.
derek takes a few seconds, then keeps going. ]
I know I'm kind of an asshole, and I know I have a lot of shit to get over before I can be a half-way decent boyfriend, but. If this gets fucked up - you and me - it's not gonna be your fault. You're... pretty incredible. I'm really lucky.
no subject
so he doesn't notice the staring, at least not until he's actually looking at derek, but he does notice that it's taking derek longer than necessary to answer a simple yes or no question. stiles waits another second or two, idly wondering if maybe derek just didn't hear him, even though it's pretty quiet in the apartment and the movie isn't that loud and derek has heightened senses to rely on. he considers repeating himself, but derek answers and stiles seems pretty satisfied, craning his head back up and turning his attention back to his laptop.
he doesn't react much to derek sliding his arm over his waist. his heart stutters a little, quick and soft and easy, just because he's pleased. but he's also content and comfortable and just - really, really happy. he feels warm, both inside and out. the last time stiles felt this relaxed was - well, it was probably the last time he stayed the night here with derek, but even this is different. this is a kind of peace stiles hasn't felt in a long, long time.
stiles breathes out slowly, lazing comfortably next to derek as he watches the opening scenes unfold. he's seen this movie before, plenty of times actually, but the sets and the color composition and the finer details never fail to draw stiles in and hold his attention. the little girl's ridiculous arm cast and her tendency to hold objects in her stationary hand never fails to amuse him either. somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers derek moving closer, the small space left between them dipping just a little under derek's shifting weight. stiles doesn't really think about it and absently tilts himself slightly onto his side toward derek, his eyes still on his laptop, cheek still pressed into his bicep.
as engrossed as he is by the movie, derek is still more important, more interesting, and as soon as derek speaks, stiles' eyes shift. he tilts his chin down slightly so he can look at him more directly, blinking a couple times to adjust his focus, eyebrows lifting with gentle curiosity. he turns fully onto his side as derek slides his hand to his lower back, giving him his full attention. stiles doesn't know what to do with those few seconds of silence though with derek looking at him the way he is, so he takes his hand from where it's settled in the space between them and gently taps the back of his fist against derek's chest, lightly thumping his knuckles against his pec as he murmurs a quiet 'hmm?'
and then derek hits him with i really like you. stiles breathes out through his nose, one quiet, rushed exhale, and pushes his fist a little more firmly against derek's chest, suddenly a little bashful. he presses his lips together, but it doesn't do much to hide the faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, however brief it is. stiles rubs his cheek against his arm like he's trying to wipe away the heat of a barely-there blush, then shifts and settles in just a fraction closer to derek, bending one of his knees until it bumps up against his. ]
S'not stupid. I like - I like... hearing you say it.
[ his own voice is just a quiet hum, low and slightly rough, and it fills the handful of quiet moments in between before derek speaks again. stiles' fingers absently pinch at derek's shirt for a second or two, eyes lowered just slightly, and then he moves his hand to his shoulder, letting it slide lazily down his bicep.
someone narrates quietly somewhere in the background, telling the story of a bandit and his brother, a princess. stiles doesn't hear it at all, in favor if listening to derek instead.
he doesn't agree. stiles doesn't agree that derek is only half-decent, he doesn't agree that if something does go wrong between them, that it's automatically going to be because of something derek did or something he caused or something he didn't do - but he doesn't interrupt, either, and when derek calls him incredible, when derek says he's lucky to have stiles of all people, he's left feeling a little bit breathless for a moment.
stiles' brows pinch slightly, the space between them creasing softly. he looks a little awed, and also a little sad if you look hard enough, long enough. stiles shakes his head, cheek squishing against his arm before he lifts his head to adjust how he's laying. ]
Derek - you're a good boyfriend. You're a great boyfriend. I know - I know we only just... put a label on - all of this, but I know you're great boyfriend because you're a great person. [ he squeezes derek's bicep. ] Don't argue with me on that because you will lose.
[ stiles smiles a little lopsidedly, looking at derek with fondness and adoration and love. he hasn't told derek he loves him again, not since he told him back in the down after his terrible nightmare, but that's not because he feels any differently. he just doesn't want to overwhelm him, doesn't want to push things or make derek feel pressured or obligated or uncomfortable, but god, does stiles love him so much.
his smile fades a little, expression softening. stiles wets his lips and takes an easy breath in, making sure to look derek in the eyes if he'll let him. ]
But you're already taking the blame for something that - probably won't even happen. You can't do that. Please don't do that. You've got - shit to deal with, I've got shit to deal with too, but - we can do that together.
[ he sounds a little unsure, but he also sounds quietly hopeful, too. lord knows stiles has his own mountain of issues, whether they stem from low self-esteem, or putting every iota of energy he's got into being enough or doing enough only to never be told or reassured that he is, or his last, questionable relationship, the only one he's ever had - but stiles isn't willing to let those things soil what he's building with derek, not if he can help it.
stiles is the lucky one, though. back home, derek trusted stiles, probably more than anyone else has save for his own father. derek paid him attention and he acknowledged his intelligence and his efforts, even while rolling his eyes and calling him names, and it sucked when derek left, when stiles lost that. but he has that here, too. he has that now, and stiles is so, so lucky that derek likes him. he's lucky he has someone like derek, who sees him even when stiles feels unseen.
he rubs his cheek against his arm again, gets through a few false starts. ]
You're not... lucky. I don't mean that like— I'm not saying you're an unlucky person, but I mean you just. [ he's a little nervous and he can already tell he's starting to stumble a little, so he takes a second to take a breath and pull himself back. ] You deserve better than the things that've happened to you.
[ both the things derek knows about, and the things he doesn't, things stiles has promised himself he'll tell derek if only for the small chance derek can change his future. stiles wets his lips, his eyes dipping for a second or two. ]
I... want to be that. I want to be better because you deserve that much. I'm trying.