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Ring
Stiles hears the familiar ringtone - Werewolves of London, because he knows it’s hilarious – and tries to fight the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he answers, glad Derek isn’t in front of him to hear his heart skip a beat when he hears his voice.
Hero
“Such a big fucking hero,” Stiles yells angrily as he gets into his jeep, Derek roaring after him, “Stop being a fucking dumbass and I’d stop having to save you”; Stiles peels off the dirt road onto the highway, his fingers clutched around the steering wheel too tightly, the last few minutes a blur of blood and screaming and pain and that thing coming towards him head on, and just once, once, Stiles would like That Thing (different monster, same shit) not to come at him head on – maybe to the left or right so he could use some of his mad skills – but not head on so Derek inevitably would have to save him yet again.
Memory
Ironically it’s a passing scent, a familiar scratching at the back of his mind, as he walks by the shop, his steps slowing in front of a display of candles in the window, and he hears Derek ask, “What is it?” from what feels like miles away, because he’s eight years old again, and it’s fall, and his mother is sitting on the couch reading a book as she nods without looking up while he talks through a mouthful of Cheetos and plays the latest video game she rented for him from the floor of the living on the big TV because that was their ritual every Friday after school, and he doesn’t realize where he is until he feels a large hand on his shoulder and a soft kiss against the back of his neck.
Box
Derek doesn’t touch the box, just looks at it suspiciously on the couch between them, like he expects it to catch fire or explode, so Stiles rolls his eyes and pushes it forward, saying, “It’s your birthday present, dumbass,” and Derek blinks and looks up at him with an unreadable expression, and Stiles wonders briefly if he made some weird werewolf faux-pas until Derek takes the box carefully between his hands and unwraps it, his face slowly softening with each tear of brightly colored paper, and when he lifts the top of the box off and pulls out the black Star Wars t-shirt (because hey, Derek likes black and it is a gift from Stiles, afterall, and Stiles knows Derek told him when they watched all six movies a few months back that he used to watch them with his dad), Derek clutches it like it’s made of gold or something, until it clicks in Stiles’ brain that it’s been two years since Laura died and he’d had to sneak a peek at Derek’s license just to figure out when his birthday actually was.
Run
On full moons, Stiles camps out in a clearing in the preserve with Allison and Lydia, talking over hot chocolate around a small fire while Derek runs with Scott, Isaac, and Boyd; they can hear them crash through the underbrush, their howls and growls sometimes nearby, sometimes in the distance, and in the morning, they return happy and out of breath, Derek leaning shirtless against Stiles, the coarse hair around his muzzle tickling the skin on Stiles’ neck.
Hurricane
It hits him like a hurricane, his attraction to Derek, like a storm destined to ruin his life and overturn everything he’s ever known; sometimes he’s afraid they’re living in the eye, clinging to each other until the storm starts again and destroys them both.
Wings
“I’d want to be a bird,” Stiles says from the edge of the cliff as he watches a hawk soar through the skies, “It’d be so badass to fly, to just spread your wings and go, and it’d make being a wolf seem lame in comparison,” and then Derek sneaks up and grabs him, hoists him over his shoulder as Stiles complains and beats his back, and then Derek tosses him gently onto the blanket before covering Stiles’ body with his own.
Cold
Stiles mumbles sleepily as Derek crawls into his bed, barely opening his eyes before scooting over and burying himself against Derek’s chest, Derek’s whispered, “Jesus Stiles, your feet are fucking freezing” hot against his ear as Derek wraps his arms around him and holds him close against his warm body.
Red
Derek’s eyes flash red so often that Stiles can’t find it intimidating anymore, especially when he does it for dumb reasons like Stiles leaving towels in the floor or stealing the last fries from his plate; sometimes Derek flashes his eyes during a fight, and Stiles is momentarily crippled with fear, and sometimes Derek flashes his eyes during sex, and Stiles feels them sink into the center of his core until he’s terrified Derek will understand too well his true feelings for him.
Drink
Lydia throws a party, and Derek comes begrudgingly, but stays upstairs out of sight in one of the guest bedrooms, and they all drink too much (thank you Crazy!Uncle Peter for werewolf intoxicants for his friends because no one likes drinking alone!), and Stiles stumbles upstairs, mumbling nonsense to random people, railings, and portraits of Lydia’s grandparents before stepping into Derek’s hideout, where he’s sitting stiffly on the bed reading, and Stiles trips on his way to the bed and face plants on the edge – thank god it’s soft and bouncy – before he stands back up and strips off his shirt, tossing it at Derek, who looks like he’s going to protest, but instead yanks Stiles into his lap and kisses him.
Midnight
When they first started dating, the sheriff had begrudgingly allowed Stiles a midnight curfew - you break it once, and that’s it, son¬ - and Derek annoyingly made sure he was walking through the door just minutes prior, and most nights when Stiles stepped inside his room, Derek was already waiting for him on the bed.
Temptation
It’s too much of a temptation when he sees it in the gift shop, when Scott, Isaac, and Stiles go to the zoo with the senior class (and that’s the last time anyone puts Finstock in charge of senior field trips), so he buys the small stuffed wolf and leaves it on Derek’s bed when Derek is downstairs before he leaves that night, and the next time he’s in the loft, he finds the wolf resting on Derek’s bookcase in front of a row of books.
View
Derek walks across the dark bedroom while Stiles lays in the tangled sheets, the long lines of Derek’s naked body barely visible in the darkness, and he opens the doors that lead out onto the balcony, the faint light from the waxing moon highlighting the stark contours of his body, his pale skin grey-blue as he leans against the doorframe.
Music
Stiles always had to control the music – he had the best music taste out of all of his friends, what could he say, it was a gift – and Derek never seemed to mind; that day they had been driving in the Jeep for almost two hours and Stiles hadn’t even noticed that it was Derek, not him, who had been choosing the music the entire ride, and that was the day Stiles finally came to the realization that he was falling head over heels in love with Derek Hale.
Silk
Later, when Derek’s sweaty skin slides easily against his, silk fingertips trailing lines across his cheeks and arms, Derek’s cock hot where it’s trapped between their bodies and resting heavily alongside his own, Stiles threads his fingers into Derek’s hair and whispers i love you against his neck, and Derek leans back, eyes flashing red for a moment, before returning to normal and whispering i love you too.
Cover
Derek covers Stiles’ cheek with his hand, traces his thumb beneath Stiles’ eye as he pushes in slowly, gently, his face open and trusting and loving, and although it’s their first time doing this and the stretch is uncomfortable, Stiles pulls him closer, needing to feel all of Derek inside him and against his skin, needing Derek to know it was never a question of if, it was always just a question of when.
Promise
Afterwards, as Stiles lies sweaty and breathless against Derek’s chest, the air from the open doors cooling on his skin, he wants to promise Derek something, anything, everything, promise Derek that he can trust him and he’ll never hurt him and and he’ll love him like he deserves, but instead, Stiles doesn’t say anything, just places a kiss over Derek’s heart, on the side of his neck, and threads their fingers together.
Dream
Derek holds him when he has nightmares, when he sees things behind his eyelids that he’s ashamed to admit to himself, murmurs in his ear and rubs his back until Stiles’ heart stops hammering and his limbs stop shaking; Stiles holds Derek on the nights he has nightmares, though Stiles is afraid they happen more often when he’s not there than when he is; on the nights when Stiles is alone, Stiles will keep the phone pressed against his ear as Derek’s voice talks about nothing at all, nonsense and rambling and small talk that Stiles didn’t think he was capable of, until Stiles falls asleep, the sound of Derek’s voice a comforting murmur in his ear; on the nights when Derek is alone, Stiles knows it was a bad one because Derek will call him at four a.m., voice hoarse and shaky as he asks Stiles to talk to him, and Stiles does until his voice is as hoarse as Derek’s.
Candle
When Stiles finds it, he stalks upstairs, where Derek is sitting at his desk researching something for a case, and holds out the candle before asking, “What is this?”, and to Derek’s credit, he looks nervous, the tips of his ears pink as he answers, “it’s the scent from that shop, the one you stopped at a few months ago,” and Stiles stares at him in disbelief as Derek mutters an apology before Stiles runs over and throws his arms around Derek and kisses him.
Talent
Derek has the most talented hands, the ability to touch Stiles just about anywhere and have him come completely undone; Stiles discovers that he has a talented mouth, one swipe of his tongue to the underside of Derek’s cock or the touch of his lips to the head, and Derek unravels in a way Stiles never thought possible.
Silence
The silence should have been his first clue, but Derek was always quiet, and Stiles has so much to think about – graduation, college, the rest of his fucking life – that he fills Derek’s silence with his own internal ramblings and never notices anything is wrong.
Journey
“I never expected to go with you,” Derek says, his eyes carefully guarded while Stiles knows his own pain, fury, and disbelief are pouring from him, “It’s just going to be too hard, and you’ll meet people and have experiences, probably even find a nice normal guy or girl your own age who’s doing the same thing you are and pretty soon Beacon Hills and I will be a distant memory.”
Fire
The rage that fills Stiles makes him feel like he’s going to explode, literally come apart because it’s straining to get out and murder Derek, so the screamed, “What the fuck do you mean by that?” pales in comparison to what Stiles feels inside.
Strength
It takes all the strength Stiles possesses not to hit Derek and to instead turn and walk away, his heart breaking and his world falling around him.
Mask
The summer passes in a blur, his face blank and his mind a screaming chaos of loss and longing, with his father’s constant worried eyes, the shared looks between Scott and Isaac, and the ever present absence of Derek.
Ice
A week before he leaves for college, Stiles runs into Derek at the supermarket, all awkwardness and panic and can’t breathe and Derek’s icy glare slicing into him before he turns and walks away, leaving Stiles clutching his cereal like a lifeline.
Fall
It’s fall when Derek shows up at Stiles’ dorm, in the middle of studying for a biology midterm, his nosy roommate looking at Derek like he’s really hoping Stiles doesn’t invite him in, and when Stiles and Derek just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like eternity, his roommate excuses himself and disappears, and so Stiles hears his voice inviting Derek inside and feels his hands closing the door behind him.
Forgotten
He’d forgotten how good Derek smelled, how beautiful he was, how his voice rolled down Stiles’ spine like an electric current as he watches Derek fidget nervously in the middle of his dorm room; he’d forgotten how much Derek pissed him off as Derek tells him he’s sorry, that he was wrong, that Scott and Isaac had convinced him to stop pining and go get Stiles back; he’d forgotten how warm Derek felt pressed against his body, mouth against his neck, hands clinging desperately to him as Derek whispered over and over again stiles, i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry.
Dance
“You can’t be serious,” Stiles says as Derek holds out his hand, and Derek raises his eyebrows as he waits, and Stiles can’t believe how easy it is to fall into his arms again, how things finally feel right after months of feeling wrong as Derek holds him and sways their body to a silent melody, and Stiles murmurs, “This is ridiculously cheesy, I didn’t even know you liked to dance,” and Derek whispers, “It’s one of many things you never learned about me,” and something inside Stiles opens, fresh and painful and angry and hopeful and happy all at once, and Stiles knows he hasn’t forgiven Derek just yet, but he’d rather die than send him away now that he’s back in his arms.
Body
Stiles is on his knees, hands curling into the sheets, Derek’s body pressed firmly against him chest to back, the rhythm of his hips slow and unhurried, their bodies reconnected like two magnets clinging together, Derek murmuring against the back of his neck as he trails kisses and bites across his shoulders and back, leaving marks that won’t heal for days, weeks, months, and Stiles wants Derek to mark him, make him his again, and when Derek whispers i love you, stiles, i’ve never stopped loving you, Stiles brings Derek’s hand to his mouth and threads their fingers together, too overwhelmed to speak.
Sacred
Later, after Stiles texts his roommate and tells him not to come back tonight just this one time, he lays against Derek’s chest, their limbs tangled together in the sheets, Derek’s arms holding Stiles so tightly he thinks he might bruise, and they lay like that all night, neither speaking at first, but then Derek says something, and everything pours out of Stiles like he’s never going to stop talking, and Derek takes it all without a word, just watches and listens and rubs Stiles’ arm comfortingly as all the anger and hurt and fury explodes from him until there’s nothing left in Stiles but relief that he doesn’t have to fall asleep alone tonight.
Farewells
Stiles clings to Derek as they lean against the Camaro in the visitor’s parking lot, not wanting to let go, and Derek chuckles lightly and says “I’ll see you in a few days” warmly against his ear, but Stiles holds on even tighter, afraid if he lets go Derek will disappear, all of this an illusion, so Derek kisses him and whispers against his mouth, “I feel the exact same way.”
World
Stiles thought high school went by fast (no, that’s not right, he thought high school would never end), but college flies by, and maybe that’s because Stiles stays busy with internships and shitty on-campus jobs, and a semester abroad in Greece that gets his dad on a plane for the first time, forces Derek to get over his technology phobia and let Isaac and Scott teach him how to Skype, has the Pack come spend a couple of weeks with him much to the delight of his host family who live down the street from his flat, and gives Stiles and Derek a chance to backpack through Europe for a month the summer before his senior year.
Formal
Derek glowers when he shows up in a black suit, looking more like he’s going to a funeral than a college formal, so Stiles pulls him inside his apartment with a roll of his eyes, saying, “You didn’t get to take me to prom, so this college formal is my prom, dammit,” and Scott takes pictures of them while Isaac, Boyd, and Allison snicker behind him, and Scott plays the best friend role well and doesn’t laugh (though Stiles can tell he really wants to), and then Derek takes Stiles to a nice dinner and looks content until they get to the formal, where he stiffens up and glares at every girl (and guy) who looks at him lustfully and cringes in disdain at the awful pop music, and Stiles is just about to suggest going back to his apartment and fucking all night instead when a slow song comes on, and Derek grabs his hands and leads him onto the dance floor, his strong arms wrapped around Stiles tightly as they sway gently in each other’s arms for the next two hours.
Fever
Stiles gets sick during the beginning of his last semester, a nasty bout of the flu that makes him wish he were dead, and Derek spends the week with him, making him soup and waking him up for his medicine and fixing him ginger ale like his mom used to and then his dad after she died whenever he got sick, and Derek curls up beside Stiles whenever his fever spikes, and he holds him through the chills until his fever breaks.
Laugh
Derek throws his head back in laughter, his entire body shaking as Stiles stares at the long line of his neck, the way his eyes crinkle in the corners, and he thinks about how when he first met Derek, all those years ago, when he didn’t think it was possible for Derek Hale to ever crack a smile, and now Stiles is addicted to Derek’s laugh like he is to caffeine.
Lies
Stiles just lies there as Derek wanders around the bedroom undressing himself, enjoying his free weekend before finals and then graduation and then the inevitable job search, and when Derek finally slides between the sheets and presses his naked body against Stiles, he distracts him from figuring out the rest of his life just yet.
Forever
“Move in with me,” Derek asks as Stiles rides him, and he stills and looks down into Derek’s eyes, wide and sincere and pupils blown, and Derek’s face pinches in worry just a bit, his eyebrows inching higher up his forehead as his fingers curl roughly into the skin of Stiles’ hips, and he thrusts upwards and kisses Stiles and wraps his fingers around Stiles’ cock, ending the conversation for now.
Overwhelmed
Derek doesn’t mention moving in with him again, and Stiles follows that example, because if Stiles is good at anything, he’s good at ignoring things, and he just has to pass his finals and graduate and find a job before he thinks about taking his relationship with Derek to another level, because even more overwhelming than the whole becoming an adult thing is just how much Stiles wants to be with Derek forever.
Whisper
“I want to move in with you,” Stiles whispers one night, Derek’s head resting lightly on his chest as his fingers play over Stiles’ stomach, but his hand stills as he lifts his head, his face carefully guarded in a way that makes Stiles’ heart ache because it reminds him so much of the way Derek’s face used to always look.
Wait
“We can wait,” Derek says, voice even and forced, “I didn’t mean to – “ but Stiles silences him by placing his fingers over his lips, and Derek automatically pulls one into his mouth out of habit, which makes Stiles smile and know he’s made the right decision.
Talk
“Dad, I’m moving in with Derek,” Stiles says nervously as he sits across the kitchen table from his father, Derek giving his knee an encouraging squeeze underneath the table; his dad eyes them carefully and finally says, “Son, I think it’s time we have the talk,” and Stiles rolls his eyes and says, “Dad, you missed that by like five years,” and the sheriff looks at Derek and says, “I was talking to Derek, because he needs to know I have wolfsbane bullets on hand if he hurts my son,” and Derek grins so widely that it takes Stiles by surprise.
Search
“Drive faster!” Stiles yells at Scott, who turns to glare at him, before softening and saying, “We’ll find him, Stiles, you have to trust us,” and Stiles nods as he swallows down the bile in his throat, the last few quiet years in Beacon Hills causing him to forget the danger and the fear, making him forget that this would always be his life.
Hope
“Isaac caught his scent!” Scott exclaims as he jerks his car onto a dirt road, and Stiles feels paralyzed by fear, too terrified to hope that they’ll find Derek, and unsure he’ll even be in one piece when they do.
Eclipse
Derek’s bloody – but very much alive – face eclipses everything else that happens when they find him; he’s tied up with wolfsbane laced rope and has obviously been carved on with something that won’t heal, but when Derek looks up, wolfed out and eyes bright red, he looks directly at Stiles and recognizes him, so Stiles swallows his fear and begins to fight.
Gravity
Stiles tries to help Scott, Isaac, and Boyd fight That Thing, but Stiles finds himself closer and closer to Derek like he’s being drawn there by gravity, some invisible force bringing them together, which is okay with Stiles because he’s no match for That Thing, but untying werewolf-poisoned rope he can do, so he runs over and starts murmuring, “Derek, I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay, you’re safe now,” as he starts cutting through the thick rope.
Highway
Derek’s head is in Stiles’ lap, both of them cramped in the backseat of Scott’s car as the dark road passes by outside, Stiles’ fingers carding through Derek’s hair as he watches Derek sleep, the wounds on his stomach still bleeding.
Lock
Stiles turns the key in the lock to their house, struggling under Derek’s weight as they both try to get him inside the door, Derek barely conscious and still weak as Stiles manages to get him into their bedroom and settled on the bed so he can dress the wounds.
Unknown
The next morning, Derek’s not completely healed and still a bit weak, so they call into work and spend all day in bed; Derek wakes up around midday and catches Stiles staring at him, and he reaches out and threads their fingers together, and Stiles notices how pained Derek looks when he says, “It’s always going to be a risk, I’ll understand if – “ but Stiles shakes his head vehemently, because that’s what he’s been thinking about since last night, and he knows he’d rather face the unknown with Derek – monsters or not – than to try to do it alone.
Breathe
Sometimes, Stiles wakes up in the middle of the night and just listens to the sound of Derek breathing, fighting off the panic that sometimes carries over from dreams or that likes to sneak up on him in the middle of the night, and grounds himself in the slow rise and fall of Derek’s chest, the soft sound of the air passing through his parted lips, and reminds himself to just keep breathing, too.
-fin