Follow you home, you’ve got your headphones on and you’re dancing Got lucky, beautiful shot you taking everything off watch the curtains wide open Then you fall in the same routine flicking through the TV relaxed and reclining And you think you’re alone…
Stiles wanted to marathon were-wolves’ movies … Never again.
I’m still recovering from watching all the Underworld, I almost cried … I’m sure I’ll need a therapy :l
For @sterekdrabbles today, September 5: mole, quiet, whisper. I’m sort of pretending this happened before they came back in season 6. (Which I never watched.) 🙂
~
Derek traces his fingers over the moles on Stiles’s cheek like he’s charting constellations.
They’ve been quiet for so long, drinking each other in, re-memorizing what they already knew and memorizing everything they’ve learned in one night, reacquainting themselves and acquainting themselves in ways they never had been before.
Even a whisper might break the spell that’s been cast in their silence but Stiles knows it’s important, hand on Derek’s, cheek tilting into Derek’s palm.
“I missed you.”
Derek smiles, actually smiles, and leans in to kiss him, I missed you, too clear in the soft press of his lips.
Commission done for bleep0bleep to go with her fic Those That Bump In The Night. I really loved reading it so far, I can’t wait until it’s finished! This scene is when Derek goes to sleep with Stiles in his bed as a wolf, and in the morning as a surprise human XD
“Come on, Stiles.” Derek shook his shoulder. At least, he was pretty sure it was Stiles’s shoulder; he was buried so deep under the blankets it was difficult to tell. “It’s time to get up.”
“No,” came Stiles’s voice from under the blanket and pillow. “’S my day off.”
Derek sighed. “Yes, and you told me you wanted to get up and go running with me in the morning, remember?”
“I lied.”
Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles hadn’t lied; the exact conversation had involved the words don’t let me weasel out of it in the morning. He debated actually clawing the blankets to shreds to get Stiles out of them, but he didn’t want to replace them. They were good blankets.
“You know,” Derek bent over the pillow, “if you get up and go running with me, I could be persuaded to exercise in other ways when we get back.”
Stiles’s hand darted out from under the covers with his middle finger raised. “Do not tempt me, you…you tempter. We can still have it when you get back from your hell run.”
Ah well, sex promises only had a fifty percent chance of working when Stiles was determined to sleep in. Derek straightened back up. “Fine, then if you go running with me, we’ll stop by Julio’s for breakfast tacos.”
The blankets shifted, and one amber eye peeked out at him from under the pillow. “Julio’s breakfast tacos?”
Derek nodded solemnly. “And if you don’t go running with me…I’ll stop there by myself and I won’t bring any back for you.”
Stiles gasped in outrage. “You wouldn’t.”
Derek turned away to grab his shoes. “Oh, yes, I would. I’d even text you pictures while I ate them.”
“I could just get them myself,” Stiles said. “Without you.”
“Your Jeep’s in the shop,” Derek reminded him. “I’ll have the car. And if you walk all the way to Julio’s, you’ll get your exercise anyway.”
Stiles was silent in the way that meant he was trying to find the loophole in what Derek had just said.
Derek shrugged and headed out the door. “Well, guess I’m going to get breakfast tacos by myself. See you later.”
He was halfway down the stairs when he heard the muffled thump of Stiles falling out of bed. “Wait, you asshole, I’m coming!”
“Did you say something?” Derek called back. “Sorry, I’m heading out!”
“Fuck you, Hale!”
Derek smothered a laugh. “We can do that later!”
His answer was another series of thumps and muffled cursing.
Well, it was good to know if nothing else, at least breakfast tacos could get Stiles out of bed in the morning.
Initially, he doesn’t even touch Stiles, fingers hovering nervously above his skin as he connects all the marks on Stiles’ body like a treasure map, mind going blank as he does.
Eventually, when Stiles learns this calms Derek down -maybe when he knows Derek has had a particularly stressful day – he cranks up the heater, crawls on top of their bed naked and leaves a little note beside him saying ‘knock yourself out, big guy’ with eye liner or a non permanent maker attached to it.
After a while, Stiles gets used to waking up, finding his entire body covered in lines and shapes, like a dot to dot puzzle, and every time he smiles, gets this warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest knowing he’s helped Derek somehow.
Derek isn’t good at talking, doesn’t always manage to say what’s bothering him at the time it’s bothering him, and the fact Stiles can help him – even unconscious and snoring – is a big deal to him. Seeing Derek asleep and smiling, rested, when he wakes up (and all because of little things on his body he’s always hated) makes him happier than he ever thought possible. And hey, maybe that’s selfish, but he doesn’t care; not when Derek kisses him the next morning, whispering ‘thank you’ before turning over and falling back to sleep like he isn’t afraid of the bad dreams that might come, not when Stiles is there.
theproblemwithstardust 