"Derek! Derek, come out here! I know you're in there!" Stiles screamed at the uninterested façade of Derek's home. "This is bull crap," Stiles grumbled under his breath. He ran up the steps and grabbed for the door, but it swung inward as he approached. Stiles stumbled across the threshold flailing and ultimately losing his balance.
"You ok?" asked Derek.
"No, I am not ok, Derek," Stiles said in his angriest voice, "you haven't been returning my calls, you've been avoiding me in town, and we haven't seen each other in like a month! What gives?"
Derek rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and looked up at the horrendously filthy ceiling.
"Seriously? I come all the way out here to talk to you and this is what I get?" Stiles said incredulously.
"Stiles, I need some space, ok?"
Stiles' face flushed with anger as he pushed himself up from the dust-laden floor. "Space? What? You know what, this is it. I've had enough, Derek."
Stiles rushed out, slamming the door behind him. Derek inhaled deeply and punched a hole in the nearest wall.
Stiles was lying in his bed that night brooding over what happened earlier. After a couple of hours, he decided he was too tired to think anymore. He got up, turned off his iTunes, and started to undress for bed.
"Stiles…" came Derek's voice from behind him.
Even though Derek hadn't surprised him like this in a long time, Stiles was still so used to it by now that he didn't jump. Well, he didn't jump any more than normal. How could you help but jump a little in the presence of Derek Hale? "What happened to needing space?" Stiles asked only half sarcastically, still facing away from Derek and the window he entered through.
"I miss you Stiles."
Stiles didn't know what to feel about this sudden change. Derek didn't give him a lot of time to think about his feelings anyway. He was reaching around to run his hand across Stiles' bare chest. Stiles shuddered in a familiar way.
"Stiles, I swear I'm gonna change. Will you trust me?"
Stiles nodded his head, unable to speak as Derek's hand descended to Stiles' warm groin. Derek was kissing Stiles on the shoulder and neck. Stiles was thoughtless in Derek's hard yet gentle arms.
At the next snippet of conscious thought, Stiles found himself lying face-up in his bed, staring into Derek's unnaturally-colored eyes. There was the feel of denim against his naked thigh, the feeling of Derek's skin against his own. When had Derek managed to take off his jacket and shirt? And Derek was kissing him now and it was so warm. And he ran his rough hands up and down Stiles' arms, trying to touch all that he could.
Derek got out of his jeans and tossed them aside. He grabbed Stiles' body and pulled it toward him like he had never stopped doing this. Stiles briefly wondered if he should feel upset that Derek was acting like nothing had happened, but he didn't really care that much. Stiles felt the firm, steady pressure of Derek as he gave it to Stiles. Stiles moaned in a high-pitched way that sounded more like a whimper. Derek dug one hand into the bed sheets and cradled Stiles' head in the other, pulling it up to kiss him again.
Stiles was in a state of bliss, unable to feel anything but Derek. The slow and steady pace was hypnotic to him. He couldn't imagine this ever ending. He couldn't imagine not being mingled with Derek like this for the rest of his life. Derek gave a low moan. He never even changed his speed as he gained orgasm. As Derek dislodged himself, Stiles gave a hot exhale that bounced off of Derek's neck and back into his own face. He laid there with his eyes closed, unwilling to be tainted by anything in the real world. He fell asleep in Derek's embrace.
Stiles awoke the next morning to find Derek sitting at his desk, fiddling with his computer. Derek wasn't the greatest with electronics, but Stiles noticed that he had managed to open up the paint program. Stiles slid out of the blankets and walked over. He peeked over Derek's shoulder and saw a cartoonish wolf. It was really terrible by any standard.
"I drew you a picture," he told Stiles.
"Oh, that's, uh, that's really good work." Derek glared at Stiles.
"What?" Stiles asked.
Derek hit the x button on the program. He chose not the save the picture.
"Don't tell me you're going to get upset over a picture?" Stiles said in an exasperated voice.
Derek stood up quickly, grabbed his coat, and headed for the window. He turned around almost as an afterthought and said, "You know, I'm really trying, Stiles."
Stiles threw his hands in the air, "Trying to do what? Drive me crazy?!"
Derek turned around and jumped out of the window. Stiles dashed over to see him running away.
"I hate you!" he yelled at Derek as he ran away from the house.
Derek didn't stop, but if Stiles could have seen him at that moment, he would have seen the pain on Derek's face.
Stiles was finishing up the last chapter of reading for Chemistry when his phone rang. He looked around for the source of the noise. His bag. He rushed to reach his phone before the call ended, but ended up tangling himself in a blanket and tumbling onto the floor. He crawled on all fours over to the bag, grabbed his phone, and answered it without seeing who was calling. "Hello?"
"Oh, hey, Derek."
"Did you call just to breath at me?"
"Then what are you-"
"Stiles, I love you."
His turn for silence. Derek had never told him that he loved him before.
"Stiles? I love you."
"I…I love you too," was all he could think to say.
"I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"
"Yeah, see ya. Bye."
But Stiles didn't have to wait until tomorrow. Derek showed up less than an hour after he called. Stiles opened up the window and let Derek inside. "Hey," he said uncertainly.
Derek didn't respond, but started kissing Stiles harshly. Stiles was so confused about what the hell Derek's deal was lately, but he kissed him back. Derek then started to take off Stiles' shirt, but he pushed it back down. Derek stared at him, confused. Derek groped Stiles' junk, but Stiles slapped his hands away. Derek was not amused. "What's wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" Stiles said, perhaps more loudly than he intended. "You call me up, tell me you freaking love me, then you show up here without a word and expect to just do it? It doesn't feel like you love me, it feels like you're using me, Derek."
Derek pursed his lips and glared.
"Maybe you should go," Stiles said weakly.
"Fine," Derek said hopping out of Stiles' window again.
Stiles closed the window, shut the curtains, and lay back down on his bed.
Then Stiles cried. This insane back and forth was wearing him down. Why couldn't he have fallen for someone with emotions that weren't broken? Why couldn't he be attracted to a normal guy like Danny? No, he really knew how to pick'em. Stiles' phone rang. Derek. He wanted to press ignore, but he couldn't bring himself to, and he hated himself for it. "What is it, Derek?" he said, and he was sure Derek could tell he had been crying.
"…I still love you," Derek said.
Stiles let out a terse laugh and threw his phone against the wall, the battery flying out from the back and knocking over a glass of water. Stiles glared at the glass of water for a moment, willing it to explode and to kill him in the process. Then he realized that he still had school tomorrow and it was extremely late. He pulled up the blanket, turned off the light, and cried himself to sleep.
At school the next day, Stiles and Scott found a private spot to talk during lunch. He proceeded to explain the events of the past couple of days to his friend. "…and so then he calls me and he's like, 'I still love you.' I just…I mean, this is all so exhausting, you know?"
Scott, being in the awkward position between Stiles and Derek, was reluctant to give his opinion on the matter, but he could tell Stiles was really torn up about this. "Derek isn't exactly the best and feelings in the first place, you know? And he's dealing with a lot of stuff right now, so it's kind of understandable if he's acting weird or distant or-"
"Or like an insane asshole?" Stiles suggested.
Scott frowned at Stiles.
"It would help if you didn't keep all of your wolfy secrets from me. You know, I might be able to help if I knew what was going on sometimes."
Scott frowned even more profoundly.
"Whatever, man. It doesn't even matter anymore. We are never ever ever getting back together."
"Just chill out, Stiles, things will get better trust me."
Stiles shook his head, grabbed his bag, and headed toward his next class. Scott heard Stiles saying under his breath as he walked away, "never."
Stiles was walking to his jeep after school, expecting to find Scott there so they could go hang out. Instead, he found Derek leaning up against the driver's side door. "What do you want now?" Stiles asked.
Derek fought back the urge to glare. He failed, but at least he tried. "Come by my place tonight, Stiles."
Stiles was not in the mood for this right now. "And why should I do that? So you can mess with me some more? I can't do this anymore, Derek." Stiles glanced around to see if he was attracting any attention. Thankfully, he wasn't.
"Stiles, listen, I'm really trying to work on…feelings," he said the word as a normal person might say "feces."
Stiles almost had to laugh at this, but remembered he was still angry at Derek and turned his laugh into a strange cough, which made Derek think he was choking. Derek slapped Stiles hard on the back. "Ouch!" he yelled.
"I thought you were dying," Derek said.
"I wish," Stiles said.
"Nothing, forget it."
"Will you come by tonight?"
"I really don't think it's a good idea for me to be around you."
Derek ground his teeth together and looked up to the sky. "Please, Stiles. This one time, trust me."
Derek placed his hand on Stiles' shoulder and pulled him forward. Derek leaned in to Stiles and was about to-
"Okay, okay," Stiles agreed, not wanting to give his classmates an exhibition of his messed up relationship, "I'll come."
Derek smiled, "Great. See you then." He rubbed Stiles' head roughly as he walked away.
Stiles ducked away and gave Derek's back an irritated glance. He sighed and hopped into his jeep.
Stiles walked through the woods to Derek's. He had told his dad that he was going to visit Scott. He kind of wished that he had gone to Scott's instead of putting himself in this situation again. What was it that kept him coming back over and over again to a guy who so obviously didn't know how to treat another human being, let alone a significant other? "I must be crazy," Stiles told a random tree. The tree didn't argue the point. He was in view of the house now. He could still turn around if he wanted to, but he knew he didn't want to. He kept walking.
He ascended the steps and approached the door, expecting Derek to open it. However, he didn't. Stiles knew that Derek had heard him approach. Whatever, he thought, and knocked. Derek opened the door immediately after the knock.
"Hey, Stiles," Derek said with a strange attempt at a smile which made it seem more like he wanted to eat Stiles than greet him.
"What was that about?"
"What was what about?"
"Why did you make me knock?"
"I thought it would be more, uh, normal."
"Oh, that's cool. Thanks for that."
"Yeah, it's nothing. Come in?"
Stiles stepped through the doorway and Derek closed the door behind him.
"Can I take your jacket?" Derek asked.
"Thanks, but it's kind of cold. You don't exactly have central heating, ya know?"
"Yeah, right, that was a dumb question."
"What's that sound?"
"Oh, I was listening to Freelance Whales."
"You've probably never heard of them."
"Ahem, well, why don't you follow me?"
Stiles followed Derek into the remnants of a kitchen. Derek had a make-shift bed of straw and blankets in one corner. Stiles sat down on the edge. Derek grabbed a bottle off of the counter.
"Glass of wine?" he asked Stiles.
"Yeah, that'd be great." Stiles was becoming more and more confused by Derek's erratic behavior.
Derek poured them both a glass of wine, or more accurately, a mug of wine. He handed one to Stiles and took a seat beside of him. Stiles sipped his wine and glanced over at Derek. Derek was glaring at him, but not in his normal way. This wasn't even really a glare; it was more of a stare. Stiles sat his cup down.
"So, what did you want to talk about?"
"I really do love you, Stiles."
"Yeah, you said."
"And that's why I've been acting different with you. I'm not really sure how to do love, ok? But I want to try with you. I've been acting really selfish, and you don't deserve that. I want to make you happy to be with me."
Stiles wanted that too. Oh, god, how he wanted that! Derek leaned forward so that their foreheads touched.
"So, I'm asking you to try it with me. A real relationship, not just a physical one. Will that work for you?"
"Yeah, I'd really like that."
Derek kissed Stiles on the cheek.
"Seriously, Derek? I don't want to completely give up the physical part, you know?"
Derek liked this response. He kissed Stiles full on the mouth, caressing his face with his right hand. He then knelt down in the floor and began to unzip Stiles' jeans. He found Stiles' cock and pulled it from his boxers. Stiles settled back against a lump of pillows. Derek stroked Stiles a few times then took it into his mouth like a pro.
"Mmm," went Stiles.
Derek was using his tongue in all the right ways. It was the best he'd felt in so long, he nearly cried. Stiles was digging his nails into the sheets, refraining from the impulse to thrust back into Derek's throat. It was ironic, he thought, that just as Derek relinquished one way of driving him crazy, he found an equally potent method. "Oh, I'm about to come," he said.
Derek went deeper and faster. Stiles tensed up, and he surged into Derek's throat. The release was so intense that Stiles saw flashes of white.
"Derek," Stiles said, unable to articulate anything more complex.
Derek understood what Stiles meant, though. He kissed Stiles as he stood up. "How about we go back to your place?" Derek suggested.
"I'd like that," said Stiles, zipping up his pants.
He and Derek started walking through the forest toward Stiles' jeep.
"You know, just this morning I was telling Scott that we'd never get back together, and now here we are," Stiles admitted.
Derek smiled slyly at Stiles, "You should never say never."