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Summary
Scott slows to a jog as he sees Derek upright and moving, but Stiles keeps running hard. He slides to his knees on the dirt and moss next to Derek and grabs at his shirt.
“Der?” he asks, over-loud and panicky. He’s oblivious to the gore around them, even though he’s kneeling in it. His hands flutter over Derek’s shoulder where the bite is already healing, patting his chest and face like touch is the only thing that will assure him Derek’s truly in one piece. “Derek, are you okay? Talk to me, say something, please.”
Derek’s not sure what to do with all this unexpected attention, and fights the urge to brush the probing hands away. He’s taken worse in fights before, which Stiles must know. Though, he supposes, they’re something different to each other now.
OR
After years of assuming Stiles would never want more than his friendship, Derek is pleasantly surprised to be drawn into an intense relationship with him. Being with Stiles is good, great even. But then why, exactly, does it feel like they're more distant than ever?