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Love Language

Summary:

Jackson & Derek had an unusual love language...


Notes:

I've been kinda mean to Derek lately, so I thought I'd do a little fic where he's not getting murdered, etc!

Work Text:

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Derek figured that there was an explosion imminent – he knew his boyfriend well enough to be able to tell. Jackson had been quiet ever since their Government class that morning, his face set in a scowl, his eyes hard. Obviously, something had happened, but Derek had no clue what.

“Hey – wanna come out to the bleachers with me?” he asked, nudging Jackson’s elbow.

“Why, you ashamed to be seen in public with me?” Jackson snapped back and Derek recoiled slightly, not expecting the vitriol.

“No, I just figured since you’re obviously in the mood to throw a shit-fit, I should give you some privacy for when I kick your ass,” he replied, grabbing his bag from beneath the table and looking around at their friends. Everyone apart from Erica was pretending not to be listening – she was peeling an orange with her long, manicured nails, watching the two of them like they were an episode of reality TV.

Getting to his feet, he grabbed the neck of Jackson’s jacket and hauled him up, ignoring his cry of protest.

“Guys – we’ll see you later – maybe,” he said.

“Meh – it’s Chemistry, I can always keep Harris distracted so he doesn’t notice that you’re not there,” Stiles said, saluting Derek. “Good luck with murder-lizard – something has been up his ass, so maybe you can replace it with something that doesn’t make him want to eviscerate the general student populace.”

“Fuck off, Stilinski!” Jackson said, striding away from the table, his back stiff.

“Seriously, Stiles, I’m eating – I don’t want to think about Derek putting his junk up Jackson’s ass!” Scott protested, ducking his head to avoid the slap Lydia gave him. “What?!”

“The sheer amount of detail all of us have had to put up with regarding your sex life means you never get to tell anyone what they can or can’t say!” Lydia fired at him.

“Sorry!” Scott muttered.

“I like hearing about Derek putting his junk – “ Leaving the table before Erica could finish her sentence, Derek went in search of his boyfriend.


He would never admit it, but Jackson was relieved when Derek appeared beneath the bleachers. He was always waiting for the time when the other teenager decided that Jackson was too much hard work and didn’t follow him.

Derek shrugged off his leather jacket and dumped it on the ground next to his bag before coming to stand in front of Jackson.

“Okay, you gonna explain the sour face or do I have to beat it out of you?” Derek said.

“It’s nothing – fuck off,” Jackson said, barely ducking in time to avoid the blow Derek aimed in his direction. “HEY!”

“I gotta get some practice in – I’m taking the exam for my black belt,” Derek said, dancing lightly from foot to foot. “So, I have plenty of time to wait you out because I’ll just use you as my practice dummy! Apt, since you’re acting like such a complete dumbass really.”

“Without thinking, Jackson lashed out, catching Derek on the shoulder and sending him flying backwards. A second blow and Derek’s lip began to bleed, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jackson.

“It’s like that then, huh?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over his lip and licking the blood off it. “Fair enough. Bring it!”

Jackson had no idea how long the pseudo-fight went on – all he knew was that he needed this, had to get the rage and toxicity out before it consumed him. Some unknown time later, he was lying on the ground beneath Derek, gasping for breath, his ribs aching and his clothes completely covered in dust.

“You ready to tell me what’s going on?” Derek asked, pushing his knee between Jackson’s so that their bodies were pressed closely together. “Because I gotta be honest, I could happily lie on top of you like this all day.”

“I heard the Argent girl talking about us in Government class – she was saying the only reason you’re with me is because I’m pretty!” Jackson muttered.

“That’s not all of it – you know you’re pretty, but you also know that’s not why I’m with you,” Derek said smoothly, sliding his hands up and down Jackson’s sides in a soothing motion.

“She also said the only reason I got into college was because my Dad paid my way – that I’m way too stupid to have got those scholarships on my own merit,” Jackson finally said, avoiding Derek’s understanding gaze.

“Jax – you know that’s complete and utter bullshit! Allison’s just pissed because you got that fellowship grant and she didn’t! You don’t want to listen to that shit,” Derek said.

“My Dad says the same thing though – he’s always saying it’s a good job I’m pretty because I haven’t got any brains,” Jackson admitted, his voice small. “What if they’re right and I flunk out of college? What if my bio-parents were drug-addicted drop outs and I end up following in their footsteps? What if – “

“What if Sheriff Stilinski finally arrests my uncle for all the inappropriate shit he’s always saying to Stiles? What if Scott ever gets his head out of his ass and realises that he’s got the hots for Isaac?” Derek replied, cupping Jackson’s face. “Jax – if all I wanted was a pretty face, Danny is way prettier than you!”

“Not helping,” Jackson said sulkily.

“But I actually admire your brain, the way you think, the way you care – Finstock thinks you’re the best captain the lacrosse team has had in years because you know your team-mates inside out and help make them the best team ever!” Derek forced Jackson to meet his eyes. “I mean, yeah, you’re a complete asshole sometimes, and you spend way too long doing your hair – “

“Thanks!”

“But you are so much more than your bio parents; you’re way more than what your Dad says. I’m always gonna be there to slap some sense into that thick head of yours – okay?”

“Always?” Jackson asked in a quiet voice.

“Always.”