Work Text:
1.
Their lunches are forgotten on the table. Stiles draws his hip in a circle, grinding against Derek. The table creaks under both of their weight.
Stiles’ breath hitch, stars sparkle in his eyes from the friction, feeling the liquid pleasure slowly creep up his spine, making his toes curl.
Sweats pool from his chest, dripping onto Derek’s, their skin glistening. Outside, summer is coming to an end. But for now, the thought of classes and grades is another day’s problem. At this moment, Stiles closes his eyes, bends down, takes in a lungful of citrus sweet scent, and loses himself.
2.
Derek knows they aren’t meant for greater things.
He can feel the pressure building up inside of him, waiting to snap like an elastic band he and Stiles have been pulling since the beginning of June. His eyes burn from the chlorine. Stretching out his arm, Derek feels like he can touch the other side, so close but not enough.
He’s pretty sure their friends know, but no one talks about it, they don’t talk about it either.
“You need to come up or you’ll drown.” Stiles’s voice sounds distorted.
Derek blinks and swims up. It’s just a summer thing.
3.
The trees have ears, they whisper about us, about what we did last summer.
Stiles drives in silence, trying his best to enjoy the last fleeting light of the season cause when the wind churn and bile rise up his throat, he’ll know it’s school time.
It’s therapeutic, people assuming we know nothing because we’re young, so we try to wrangle our emotions into a bottle and label them.
Oh we know, we just don’t care.
So when Stiles passes Derek on the hallway, arm around his girlfriend, their eyes barely meet, he’ll remind himself that Derek was never his.