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Stiles and he started dating four months after the Gerard incident and everything was perfect.
Well almost.
They’ve been dating for almost three months now and he still hasn’t seen Stiles even sorta naked, like he hasn’t even seen him without a shirt on.
Which he’s fine with, it’s actually nice to not be in a relationship that reveals around sex and to know that Stiles actually likes him and not just his body. He would be happy to let the teen ease into everything in his own time. Hell, he wouldn’t care if they never had sex, as long as it meant being with Stiles.
What he’s not fine with is the intense terror he’s able to smell whenever they’re making out and he puts his hands under the teen’s shirt.
He had tried to bring it up with Stiles and tell him that they didn’t have to do anything more and he wouldn't do anything Stiles was uncomfortable with, but the teen just brushed him off.
It confused him.
Especially one afternoon after an amazing picnic in the forest. They’d gotten back two hours before Stiles’ curfew and figured the best way to spend that time was making out on the couch.
He loved kissing Stiles, loved the cinnamon and honey taste of the teen’s mouth and the softness of his lips. Adored the sounds that Stiles made when he would nip and lick at the pale skin of the teen’s neck, the soft moans, and whimpers that spilled over.
“Derek.” Stiles moaned against his lips and he smiled slightly, never tiring of the sound of his name falling from his boyfriend's lips in a whimper. He runs his tongue over the pretty pink lips, asking for entrance which he’s happily granted.
Deepening the kiss, he wrapped his fingers in the boy's hair and pulled slightly, a thing he learned made Stiles very hot indeed. Sure enough, Stiles' scent heaved with arousal and he let out a mewl.
He lost it when Stiles started rolling his hips, the teen’s erection pressing down against his, breaking the kiss he moved to Stiles' neck. Pulling the boy’s hair so that his throat is bared, he bites and licks and sucks the smooth skin, pulling it into his mouth before releasing and soothing it.
He starts lifting his hips, meeting Stiles’ thrusts, and they both let out a moan at the friction, he silently thanks his earlier self for wearing sweatpants and not jeans otherwise it would have been very uncomfortable right now.
He felt hands at his shirt, pulling it up slightly, asking permission, one of the many things he loves about Stiles is that he always asks. He nods his head, letting the teen know it’s alright, and damn near howls when he feels the cool and clever fingers roaming over his chest. He never knew how damn sensitive his body was until Stiles came along and started ghosting over it, barely touching. It made him feel like his body was on fire despite the fact that the teen’s hands were always cold against him.
He let Stiles tug his shirt over his head, grinning at the desire in the boy’s eyes they racked over his bare chest. Stiles noticed this and pouted playfully before lunging at him, catching him in a bruising kiss.
As Stiles caressed his chest he went to return the touch, but stopped when hands grabbed his just as he was about to pull the teen’s shirt up. The acidic scent of fear mixed with the scent of embarrassment, it was so pungent that he choked on it.
“I-um-I don’t-“ Stiles stuttered, pulling away from him, face red with shame.
“Sorry, we can stop if you want-“ he started to say, but Stiles cut him off.
“NO.” The teen shouted and then promptly looked at the floor. “I want to keep...doing this, I just- I don’t want to take any of my clothes off, if that’s okay?” Stiles asked as if he was scared that he’d say no.
“Of course Stiles, you don’t have to take anything off.” He would ask later why, but for now, he’s fine with them continuing even if it meant Stiles would stay completely clothed. “We can keep going, I won’t try to take your shirt off again.”
Stiles smiled bashfully and leaned forward to catch his lips in a kiss again, the scent of fear being overtaken once again by the scent of arousal.
It didn’t take long for them to get back on track, both grinding against the other until they could feel their orgasms approach. Stiles tensed against him and pulled away, head tilting back as he shook, the power of his climax making him go weak in his arms. He easily caught the teen and chased after his own pleasure. It didn’t take long before he closed his eyes as fireworks erupted behind his lids.
They stayed there for a little while longer, both basking in their afterglow until the feeling of cum becoming dry and tacky was too much to ignore. They got up and went to his bedroom to change and he couldn’t help, but grin when Stiles disappeared into the bathroom to put on his clothes.
Pulling on a loose knit sweater and another pair of sweats he waits for Stiles to return.
Once both he and Stiles were settled on the couch again he finally asked the question that has been in his mind for the past few months.
“Why don’t you want me to touch you?” He asked and continued when he felt Stiles tense against him. “I won’t without your permission, but I want to know your boundaries so I don’t cross them. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He said, wanting to reassure the teen that he didn’t mind.
“It’s not that I don’t want to...do anything or something, I just-I don’t want-I don’t like-ugh.” Stiles tugged at his hair anxiously as he tried to explain. He gently grabbed the boy’s hands to stop them from pulling out strands.
“Hey, it’s fine, I don’t mind. I just don’t want to pressure you into anything. It’s okay if you don’t want to do anything more than what we’ve been doing.” He said stroking the boy’s ridiculously soft hair and lets out a please hum when he feels Stiles relax against him.
“I like doing stuff with you though, I like kissing you, I just don’t want you to leave.” Stiles murmured against his chest and his brain did a record scratch
“What?” He asked, completely bewildered about Stiles' answer.
“N-nothing, I didn’t say anything.” Stiles said, the scent of panic heightening in the room as Stiles began to squirm in his lap.
“Why would I leave?” He asked.
“Forget it, it doesn’t matter.” Stiles said and he tightened his grip on the teen.
“No, it does. Why would you think I would leave if I saw you without a shirt?” He was not letting this go because before he thought it was just a matter of not being ready to do anything too extreme, but now he suspected it was something more.
Suddenly Stiles collapsed against him and he let out a soft gasp when he felt a wetness against his neck and the salty smell of tears reached his nose.
“Sorry, sorry.” Stiles mumbled and went to get off him, but he didn’t let the teen out of his grip.
“Sti? What’s wrong?” He asked, brushing the tears from Stiles’ eyes. He had no idea how the conversation got to this, he just wanted to know why Stiles was scared when he put his hand under the teen’s shirt not to make him cry.
“I just-I don’t want you to leave, but that’s what happens. People leave when they see and I don’t want that to happen and I-I don’t-“ Stiles cuts himself off and he pulls him back into his chest, trying to soothe the teen so he could figure out what was happening.
“Shh baby, I won’t leave you, how could you think that? See what?” He asked, rubbing a hand up and down Stiles’ back and the other holding the teen’s head against his neck.
“Scars.” Stiles whispered, a light brush of air against his neck, if he wasn’t a werewolf he wouldn’t have heard it. “So many scars, too many scars. People run away when they see them, disgusted. Nobody stays when they see them.”
He felt his eyes flash red at the thought of people leaving Stiles just because of something as stupid as scars. The fact that this happened enough times to make the teen convinced that he would leave when he saw them made him want to tear out someone’s throat.
“Stiles I won’t leave you because you have scars, I think you're beautiful no matter what.” He said honestly, Stiles was the most beautiful person he’s ever meant and he’s met quite a few people.
Stiles shook his head, “I’ve heard promises before, but they're not true.”
“Stiles I mean it, with all my heart, I love you okay and nothing is going to change that, not even if you were the abominable snowman.” He says hoping the joke will get a chuckle out of Stiles, but the boy just stares at him wide-eyed and it takes him a second to find out why.
“I love you okay.” The words repeat in his mind, they’ve never exchanged ‘I love you’s’ before, but he’s been feeling it for nearly five months now, which was before they started dating.
“You...really?” The teen asked with a dazed look and he fears that he might have gone too far, scared the kid by going too fast.
“Y-yeah.” He says, hoping that he hasn’t wrecked everything. “I love you and I know that it’s really soon and all, but I do and I just-mhh.” He’s cut off by the feeling of lips on his.
“I love you too silly sourwolf.” Stiles mumbles against his lips and he feels his heart soar.
They end up kissing for a while after that, it isn’t until he tastes the salty tear tracks on the boy's face does he remember what they were talking about before. Pulling away he smiles at the annoyed whine that Stiles makes and the way his lips pout in disagreement.
“Stiles we still need to talk about this,” Stiles glares at him, but he continues anyway. “I know that I love you and no amount of scars you have will change how beautiful I find you. I also know that it’ll probably take more than just today to convince you. You don’t have to show me today, but whenever you’re ready I’ll be there. I’ll show you how much I love you.” He says, certainty in every single word he speaks.
Stiles stays quiet after that, eyes searching his face for any sign of a lie, until…
“I’m going to show you, today, right now.” The teen says, voice only shaking a little bit. He tries to tell him that he doesn’t need to if he’s not ready, but Stiles shushes him. “I need you to see, I can’t-I can’t go deeper into this only for you to leave. I need you to know.” He wants to tell the teen that he isn’t leaving, that he won’t ever leave, but he knows Stiles won’t listen.
Nodding his head, he lets Stiles out of his lap, the boy looks him over one more time before ripping his long sleeve off with impressive speed.
Dozens of pink scars are scattered across the pale chest, some of them raised up and others like a small ditch in the boy’s skin. He could identify a few as burn scars and some that are most definitely from werewolves, but the ones that catch his attention are the thin ones that go up and down the boy’s wrist. He recognized them immediately, remembered the same type of scars that were on the wrist of one of the women in his therapy group after the fire. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees how old they are, already fading with age.
He looks up at Stiles' face to see the teen looking in the other direction, tears present in the boy’s eyes once again. Gently he reaches forward and pulls him into his lap, maneuvering him so that Stiles is sitting sideways with him supporting the teen’s back.
“You’re beautiful baby, so gorgeous.” he murmurs against the boy’s hair while gently brushing the tears that spilled over away. “I love you so much, I promise you that nothing is ever going to change that.”
“Really?” Stiles asks and he feels himself start to tear up at the broken and desperate sound of the teen’s voice. He couldn’t help, but think of all the people that came before, who caused Stiles to believe that he wasn’t the most stunning being to walk the earth. Scars or not.
“Really.” He assured, “I love you, you’re gorgeous.” he said, kissing the boy’s lips.
“I love you too sourwolf.”
It wasn’t perfect, but it will be.