Chapter Text
It was funny that he only had half a clue. Distantly, it was funny, but Derek wasn’t really a ‘funny’ guy so he hardly cared. It was something Stiles would laugh at if he were aware.
Sometimes it seemed like he was completely in the dark, but Derek was more than sure that he wasn’t that dim. If he didn’t have at least half of a clue, Stiles would have completely missed that someone like Derek would have been completely distracting to the gay kid he’d brought over to con into doing something for him. And Stiles noticed how hot Derek was, that much was obvious in just how wide his eyes went, how he stared a little too long since the first moment they saw each other.
Beyond that he just missed everything else. He wrote everything he felt off as fear and anger, but mostly fear. The raised heart rate when Derek got too close, he saw that as adrenaline, which in a way it was. But Derek saw the blush, the way already rosy cheeks got pinker, he could smell it. That change. There was fear there, that was obvious, but the arousal, that was there too, and that smell? That overpowered the smell of fear.
Sometimes it made Derek wonder if Stiles had ever actually felt it before. That true burn that comes from really, really being attracted to someone. Given Stiles’ unhealthy attachment towards a girl he’d crushed on his whole life, Derek figured not so much. No one else had ever really caught his attention beyond Lydia and what he felt with Lydia became his own personal idea of arousal. Too bad it wasn’t actually the case. While as bossy as Derek could be dominating, Lydia couldn’t give Stiles what he needed and poor Stiles didn’t even know it.
And it made it all the more appealing. Derek had played both sides of the field more than once, someone who looked like him got what he wanted when he used that tool. He knew what to expect. But that innocence, the fact that Stiles had absolutely no clue what lay in wait for him? That was perfect and often more than he could bear. To the point where he snapped, pushing Stiles too hard against something, threatening his life, just to balance things out again. It was part of why Derek kept coming back even if Stiles said continuously he’d be better off if Derek was dead. They needed one another. Usually just to get something done, but Derek wasn’t stupid, there was something else they needed, they just hadn’t taken it yet. And while in his head Stiles might think things would be easier if Derek were out of the picture completely? If he really felt that way he might have actually let something happen to him. At this point, he’d saved Derek’s life so many times, he’d almost stopped pointing it out after every time.
And Derek has done the same, saving his life on numerous occasions. Not werewolf, not part of the ‘pack’, Stiles was his. Everyone knew it. Well, everyone but Stiles. He was still figuring that part out, but Derek didn’t need to rush him. He’d get there on his own time. Which was why, Derek kept telling himself, that he hadn’t turned him yet. He could. If he wanted he could catch Stiles, bite him when he wouldn’t know it was coming. But he didn’t need Stiles to be like him. He needed him to be Stiles. He’d proven just fine that he held his own as a human. It was a cheap shot to take the easy way out.
Like now. It would be so easy to do right now, but he wasn’t doing it. Instead he was just watching the zonked out boy, tangled in his sheets, head hanging off the bed, half drooling. Why did he enjoy this mess of a human again? Stiles shifted in his sleep, baring the inside of one arm, showing the tattoo that matched Derek’s, which was reminder enough. A stupid, drunken mistake, in an attempt to prove himself, but that didn’t mean Derek didn’t love seeing it any less. In an impulsively rebellious moment the boy had picked the design on his back to put on his arm permanently. It was like he didn’t even realize he’d branded himself as Derek’s. And it reminded him why he was here. Faintly smirking to himself he nudged the boy gently with his boot, watching Stiles jerk awake, tangle in the sheets more and fall off the bed.
Sitting in his desk chair Derek laughed darkly as Stiles jerked around until he spotted him, rubbing his face. “Why do you do that?” Stiles demanded as Derek laughed again. This was easily the only place he actually laughed, the two of them alone and even then it was almost strictly at Stiles’ discomfort.
“I didn’t do anything. You’re the klutz who can’t even sleep properly.” At least not alone. He’d slept just fine curled up against Derek a few weeks before. They didn’t talk about that night though. No one did.
“Yeah well…you just sort of creepily show up in the middle of the night and scare the hell out of a guy.” Stiles reached for his sweats, tugging them on in some sort of attempt at modesty. The same kid who tricked Derek into undressing for show was self-conscious about being in just his boxers. “What do you want?” he demanded, though it was rather weak for a demand. That wasn’t anything against Stiles; it was just how they worked. He made these half-assed demands and Derek tried not to laugh. They knew who the dominant one was. It was cute that Stiles tried. If Stiles wanted something, he had other ways of getting it and making a demand while he put on pants wasn’t it.
“We need to talk. About…things.” Derek wasn’t ever one to give much away, not when there was plenty to see. And Stiles kept moving, finding a shirt to cover the tattoo he wasn’t supposed to have. Derek wondered if Stiles’ father knew about it yet. It was easy enough for the younger boy to hide. It should be the other way, that Derek enjoyed watched him undress more than dress, but both were surprisingly entertaining.
“Things? Fucking a Derek it’s…Three am,” Stiles said looking at the clock then dropping to sit on his bed. “You don’t wake a guy up in the middle of the fucking night on, hey, the first night where someone hasn’t tried to kill him or his friends in weeks. Real sleep you freak. And you show up with nothing. ‘Things’. Go away.” He made a move to go back to bed, even if he was suddenly too warm to sleep in all his clothes.
“I was waiting for you to finish getting dressed.” There was a hint of a smile there, something almost malicious, because, just as he expected, Stiles’ heart rate when up a notch or two and his breathing changed.
“Fine. What?” Stiles asked, looking over at Derek and rubbing his face. “You weren’t…you weren’t standing here creepily watching me sleep were you?”
“Does this look like a Twilight movie?”
“Actually that was the vampire not the shape…I’ll shut up,” Stiles said when Derek gave him a look. “Seriously, why are you here? The last thing we need is my dad waking up to find you sort of, taking over my room.” While Derek might have been cleared of whatever crimes they thought he committed, Stiles was sure his father was not going to be a fan.
Derek nodded and leaned back in the chair a little. “How are things?” he ventured which got him an exasperated look.
“Middle of the night to ask me how I am? Seriously? You’re fucking with me right? This is some sort of sick joke. Let’s fuck with Stiles thing. Is it April Fool’s Day?” He got up, looking for his phone to check the date, only to realize it was on his desk behind Derek. He walked towards it, leaning over Derek who gave him a look from under him.
There it was again, that smell, the change. “Do I look like someone who would fuck with you?” Stiles’ cheeks went pink and he pulled away stumbling back to the bed to fall into sitting on it.
“Things are fine. Nothing’s trying to kill us…me…them. Can’t you just bother Scott for these updates? Why me?” Since that was what it was, Derek checking in on the ‘other’ pack.
“I like your perspective on things.” And he liked Stiles. Which he guessed Stiles was getting when he pinked more and that scent filled more of the space between them.
“Well he does seem to only have a mind for one thing. Everyone’s mostly fine. Like I said, first full night of sleep. Why aren’t you sleeping?” Stiles asked, biting back the second set of questions, the ones about Erica and in a new addition to his endless scrolling of jealousy, Isaac. Why he was jealous he couldn’t quite pinpoint, it was more just this overall feeling of jealousy. Maybe because they were wolves and he was still kind of a dork.
“I’m more nocturnal.” Which mean Derek slept better when he knew the pack was at school and awake and together. When Stiles was with Scott. “There’s just..something on the wind. Something I don’t trust.”
Stiles made a face and cocked his head to side. “Seriously? Seriously? We just…can’t we catch a break? No not a break that sounds like someone, me, is going to get hurt. Can’t we get some peace? Even the Argents are playing nice and you’re talking about winds and trusting and damnit,” he said running a hand over his shot hair.
“No one is going to hurt you,” Derek half growled before he even realized he’d snapped out at Stiles who froze completely. For a long moment something hung in the air between them as Stiles stared at him.
“I…okay.” What else could Stiles say? Did Derek mean himself? That he was the one who was going to protect him? Because sure Scott did okay most of the time, but that depended upon just about anyone else not being around to get hurt. Stiles might be his best friend, but Scott seemed to get caught up in his own thoughts a lot and often forgot hat his best friend was human. Maybe Derek meant himself.
There was an answer to be given, but Derek heard something else, glancing towards the bedroom door. “You’re dad’s coming,” he said getting up and starting towards the window.
“What?” Stiles asked, trying to stumble forward like the might stop Derek, but got caught up in the sheets and tripped over them, winding up on the floor with a groan.
Derek smirked again, drawing his fingers across Stiles’ head before leaving through the window.
Electricity. That was what the touch felt like. Like something zapped him and paralyzed Stiles, still on the floor, staring at the window, when his dad opened he door to his room. Turning he stared at his dad, eyes wide, breathing shallower than he had just moments before. “Dad?”
“You okay? I heard voices and…a thump.” The sheriff had the same tired face as his son, rubbing at his eyes the same way Stiles had.
“Yeah…dreams and I…fell.” The lie was poor, but it seemed to do the trick as his father nodded.
“Alright, go back to bed. It’s late.” Stiles nodded in answer as his father left, closing the door behind him. Once alone again he went back to staring at the window, waiting for the air in the room to cool down, but it never did. Letting his head thunk back on the bed, he stayed on the floor, sure he wasn’t sleeping for the rest of the night.