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Derek was obsessed with the marks he left on Stiles’ neck. And he couldn’t seem to be able to hide it, either, because there’s no way Stiles didn’t notice him staring at them.
They were laying together in bed one night when Derek found himself staring at the marks. Stiles’ neck was covered with dark red spots spanning up to his ear. It looked as though it will never heal. And Derek knew before one actually faded, he would just make more alongside it.
He couldn’t stop touching them, running his fingers across the red lines. He tried to focus on Stiles’ face instead, but every time he glanced away for even a second, he found his eyes drawn back to the marking. The intimacy of seeing him like this, it’s strangled Derek, rendering him speechless.
He didn’t know how long he stares at the marks, wondering how much longer they were going to stay that way.
Stiles didn’t seem to mind his fixation. In fact, he seemed to love it.
The marks were something much more than just scars. It’s would be a crime to belittle them like that, they are so much more, an implication. Derek’s not used to seeing Stiles so vulnerable. Sure, he had other marks from all those years running around like a feral animal, but they’re hardly visible and Stiles didn’t wear clothes that would show them off. And most definitely not at this level of intimacy.
“What are you doing?” Stiles mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep, and turned over to look at Derek, who was tracing along the bitten skin of Stiles’ shoulder.
“I think I’m in love.” He said without thinking, his face heating up, and Derek was sure that Stiles could still see the blush on his cheek even in the dim light.
Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, clearly wondering if this was some kind of elaborate joke,” With the hickeys you left on me. So much for being humble, huh?”
But Derek merely cracked a crooked smile and shook his head, continuing to trace the marks, fingers like feathers, brushing over Stiles’ neck.
Stiles mumbled something unintelligible and turned his head, but Derek could see the smile on his face. If anything, it seemed almost shy, if you ignore the sleepy expression. Stiles rolled onto his stomach and curled himself around the pillow, burying his nose into the mattress and breath in deep enough that Derek can hear it tickling against the pillowcase.
Stiles shifted under the blankets beside him, curling closer into his chest and letting out a soft sigh. Derek reached over, flick away the one strand from where it fell in front of his face. The gesture made Stiles smile.
“You okay?” Stiles opened his eyes and asks after a long silence, where neither Stiles, who still had one foot in his slumber nor Derek, who was still too transfixed on Stiles’ neck, say anything. He rolled onto his side to look at him, propping himself up on his elbow to lean over and kiss Derek lightly on the lips. “You seem very off right now.”
Derek looked away from where he’d been staring at the marks. “I’m fine.” He stumbled slightly at the glimpse of Stiles’ face, looking sleepy and content.
“Mmm. That’s not very convincing.” Stiles chuckled, reaching out and grabbing Derek’s chin gently, turning his head up to meet his eyes.
A slow blush crept up Derek’s cheekbones at being caught. “I wasn’t staring,” he said, shrugging and trying to turn away, but Stiles gripped his chin tighter and pushed forward to give him a kiss. He pulled away, grinning and settling back down into the pillows next to him. Derek shifted again, turning to face Stiles and snuggling into his arm, smiling.
“I know,” he said, voice barely louder than a whisper. “But I don’t care.”
Derek smiled at that, squeezing Stiles tighter. He rested his cheek against Stiles’ chest as the other man threaded his fingers through his hair slowly. It felt nice. He nuzzled further in, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His body relaxed against Stiles’ and he took in his scent, enjoying it. It had been a while since they were last alone together.
“Sorry,” Derek said. “I’m just thinking about something.”
“You sure you don’t want to tell me what it is? I promise I won’t laugh.”
Derek rolled his eyes and leaned forward to kiss Stiles again. “It’s nothing,” Derek replied between kisses. “Just...” he trailed off, unable to think of the words to describe what he was trying to say.
“This,” Derek said finally, sitting up to place his hands on Stiles’ neck, finger ghosting over the marks. “You’re sure you don’t mind? It’s really obvious…”
Stiles’ breath hitched. His heart beat faster and louder, and Derek saw his pupils dilate. A low whine escaped him and he tilted his head into Derek’s touch. He bit his lip, looking up at Derek with adoration shining in his eyes.
And then he moved to press his lips against Derek’s. “Oh... Those things,” he whispered between kisses, pressing his hips firmly against Derek’s own. “I thought we already establish that I like them.”
Stiles reached up and gripped Derek’s wrist, pulling him close again.
Derek hummed, smiling softly, sliding his hand down from Stiles’ neck to hold both sides of his face. He pressed their foreheads together, tilting his head to the side so he could look into Stiles’ eyes. “Yeah?” Derek murmured.
“Oh yeah,” Stiles said in reply. “This is fine. Plus I love the meaning of it.”
Stiles pulled Derek close to him again and kissed his nose, then rested his forehead against Derek’s.
Derek felt safe and warm and loved in the arms of the boy that held him so effortlessly. The thought struck Derek like a bolt of electricity. “You’re mine,” he whispered.
“Yeah… That meaning…”
“And I’m yours.”
“Oh, yeah, absolutely.”
Stiles kissed him softly. “Mine forever.”
The two stayed in their current position for a few minutes after that before Derek pulled back slightly, placing a chaste kiss on Stiles’ lips.
Stiles smiled and nuzzled into Derek’s hair as they lay there cuddling. Derek closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth of his boyfriend pressed tightly against him.
This was exactly where he belonged.