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He’s been staring at himself in the mirror for at least an hour know.
Thinking.
Trying to figure out what to do.
Trying to suppress the upcoming panic attack that’s been nagging at the back of his head for a while now. Which, no, it’s not working.
He was alone at the loft, which really isn't such a surprise to him. He’s been alone more than not for the past few months, and the only time that there's anyone besides him here is when Derek calls in the pack for a meeting.
Now when he thinks about it, it’s actually the only time he socialize with other people that's not his own reflection.
Since the attack he’s only been outside a handful of times, in which one of the times almost led to a trip to the hospital because of the lack of control of his body.
It was a group of young teenagers that had caused it, a few years younger than Stiles himself.
That day, he remember, he had felt so brave. So brave that he decided that instead of the short walk to the dumpster at the side of the building, he would walk all the way around it.
He had been strolling dow the sidewalk a couple of blocks from the one where the loft was located, when he saw a gang of kids walking towards him.
He hadn’t thought about it that much then, he would say that he had almost forgotten the way he looked, when one of the girls from the gang stopped abruptly a few feet away from him and just starred.
He kept on walking, but became curious of what the girl was looking at. When she started to point at his direction, trying to get the rest of the teens attention, that was when Stiles figured out what the girl had became so afraid of.
He stopped, just in the right moment so see the rest of the group staring at him the exact same way the girl had, just a few seconds ago.
They stood there, staring at each other, the teenage group against Stiles.
Stiles heartbeat had increased to much for his body to deal with, but he could not stop staring at the, seemingly, scared kids.
”This is it” he thought. ”They are gonna run away, scream bloody murder and my dad’s gonna have to take in his own son for scaring little kids of in the middle of the day.”
Time passed, how long he did not know, but neither of the sides moved an inch.
Until a sound broke loose from the teenage group. The sound of laughter.
”W-what are you suppose to look like, the beast” a guy with orange, curly hair said in between trying to breath from all the laughing.
After that, the spell was broken and hell was released. Well not really but to Stiles, it was almost worse than getting the scars.
The group started laughing out loud, pointing at him, like he was some kind of freak attraction at a circus.
Stiles stomach dropped. This was worse than the screaming and the crying. That he could deal with, but getting laughed at, that was a whole new level of humiliation.
Dammit, he’s almost 20 for christ sake, practically grown up. But still he can’t help the burning behind his eye, or the lump in his throat from the insult.
He tried to run away, far away from the haunting laughter and their judging looks.
He already knew he was a freak. Knew he looked like a beast. Maybe even the beast, or maybe even worse. It´s not like he was unknown of his aspect. He knew how terrible his face looked. He had seen it once, an accident really, and it’s not a mistake his going to do again any time soon.
So he ran, without knowing where or how, he just ran. Until his legs suddenly gave out and he fell headlong into a bush.
Stiles was content with just laying there, thorns sticking into his side trough his too thin jacket and branches poking him in all the wrong places. He was content just laying there and hoping, praying that no one was to find him. That maybe he could get some peace for once.
But nothing ever goes the way Stiles Stilinski wants.
An old man started to take up Stiles field of view, talking to him, asking if he was hurt or if he should call anyone.
Deciding that he had been pathetic enough for one day, Stiles slowly and painfully made his way out of the bush.
After a few attempt get steady on his feet he succeeded, only to look up and see the whole world shaking. He tried to get a grip on it. The old man was calm so it could not be an earthquake, thank God to that.
Lost in his own head Stiles didn't react when the man first laid his and on his shoulder. It was later (a longer time than Stiles would like to admit) that he started to feel the light pressure on his left shoulder.
Turning his head to the old mans face he was met whit a shocked expression the mans face changed into upon seeing Stiles whole face.
Bless the man who quite quickly collects himself and ones again asks Stiles if he’s okay.
He wants to snap at the man because does Stiles look like hes not a- okay (feel the sarcasm), but thats when he realize that it’s not the earth that is shaking, it’s him.
With the panic rising within him, Stiles tried to talk, tell the man that he was not okay, that he felt lonely, that he was scared and needed help god dammit! But nothing came out, his mouth to dry to function and form actual words.
He thinks that might have gotten out something that must have sounded like ”Dad” or ”Sheriff” because not even a minute later he hears sirens from a police cruiser in the distance.
All the things that happened after that is a total blur in Stiles head but he must’ve somehow convinced his dad to take him home instead to the hospital.
Of course, when Stiles has said home he had meant the home he shared with Derek, the godforsaken loft, not his childhood home where his father still lived.
They didn't call Derek that night, or any of his other pack members, Stiles begged his father that he wouldn’t, begged him not to call Melissa either because that would lead to Scott finding out and Scott's a shithead when it comes to keeping secrets.
So his dad helped him up the stairs and into his old bedroom (well it’s only been a year since he moved out) and left Stiles to sleep when he promised that he would talk to Derek the next day.
A little clue: he didn’t.
In fact, Stiles didn't even get the chance to explain to his boyfriend why he had been gone because simply, Derek didn't seem to care.
He was in the kitchen the next morning after, his dad had driven Stiles home. He was sitting on the counter drinking coffee and staring dreamingly into nothing while a weak smile played on his lips.
Stiles stod in the opening to the loft and stared at him. Derek didn't seem no notice that he was there, but then, how could the werewolf have missed it?
Not that Stiles complained. He got to look at Derek, like, really look at Derek. Something he haven’t been able to do in a long time.
The guy looked, if Stiles dared to say it, content and almost, happy.
He still had the stubble, the henley and the leather jacket, but those fuzzy eyebrows wasn't drawn together in a scowl and his jaw wasn't set in an almost angry manner.
His eyes, there was something about them that made Stiles gut twist like a knife, because he had never seen Derek with that emotional light in his eyes and it hurt that he wasn't the one to put it there. He wasn't the one to make Derek feel happy.
The thought alone made him feel extremely dizzy and he had to put a hand on the door to keep himself steady.
The sound and the sudden movement was all it took for Derek to snap out of his little trance.
The beautiful light in his eyes disappeared the moment he laid his eyes on Stiles face.
He drank his coffee in large sips, put the cup in the sink, hoped off the counter and turned to Stiles with one of the most forced smiles Stiles have ever seen. He nodded once and then turned to walk up the stairs to their bedroom.
All while Stiles stood there trying to do everything in his power not to break down.
Stiles shuffled towards the couch and sat down. He could hear Derek roaming around upstairs, and if he was not mistaken, he was talking to someone.
The lump in his throat was back, bigger and more resistent then the day before.
He never heard Derek moving down the stairs so he almost jumped out of his skin when a voice started talking to him from the hall area.
”Got some things to do today, so don't wait up.” thats all he got before Derek was out the door.
And if he had spent the whole day in bed screaming at the top of his lungs and crying his eyes out while fighting numerous of panic attack, well, no one needed to know that.
————————————————————————————————————————
That was two months ago and nothing had changed. If anything it only became worse.
Derek has stopped coming home altogether, not even to sleep, which left Stiles vulnerable to the world in his own home.
Stiles is not dumb, he understands what it means thankyouverymuch, but it feels better not to think about it.
Derek’s cheating on him, probably with a gorgeous and intelligent women or an handsome, ripped man. Maybe even both. Either way that person must be perfect and everything Stiles isn’t.
And now, when he stands infront of the bathroom mirror he can’t even be mad at Derek. Can’t even find the strength in him to be mad at what Derek is putting him trough, because he understands. Understands why he had to get away from the loft at any given moment, understands why he stopped looking or touching Stiles and he really do understand why Derek fell out of love for him.
Everything becomes so much clearer when he looks into his left whiskey brown eye, and the grey and reddish lump in his right eye.
He lifts his right hand to track the scars that runs vertically down the right side of his face.
Four long, deep and neat scars that had caused more pain than necessary in Stiles life.
He remember the day clearly. They where out looking for what they thought was a feral omega.
Everything had gone well, until they had found the actual werewolf, who turned out to be a maniac alpha looking for a pack to boss around.
Stiles had just happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, which seems to happen a lot in his life now when he come to think of it.
He had been directed to keep in the back of the group, an order he had obeyed, but then he saw the alpha break loose from Scott and Jackson's grip and next thing he knew he was laying on the ground and he couldn't feel his face, he couldn't see and there was something sticky and wet everywhere around him, he couldn't do anything and he started to panic. There was shouting and someone was touching him and then there were screaming.
He got to know when he woke up about two weeks later that he had passed out and that the alpha had been taken care of.
His dad yelled at him for twenty minutes straight, told him how stupid he was before he collapsed in a chair beside the bed and clutch Stiles hand so hard that it actually turned blue, but Stiles didn't have it in him to tell him to let go.
He also got to know that the crazy ass alpha literally had ripped off half of his face but that the surgeon had done their best to patch it all back together, which ended with him having four long scars on his face and lost eyesight in his right eye.
And sure, he could live with that because he was in fact alive, but it did things to his self-esteem, who to begin with in all honesty was a bit tacky.
But he couldn't tell the pack that, no. He would just smile on when his face didn't hurt too much and throw in an snarky comment when he felt like it, but it didn't feel right.
And now when he came to think about it, Derek had only visited him once the week Stiles had been laying in the hospital.
Derek had came in when the night was about to hit and the nurses were finished with their nightly round of medications to give the patients.
Stiles had laid in the uncomfortable bed feeling drowsy from his medication when the door had opened and the brooding Derek had sneaked into the room.
Stiles had made a whining sound in the pack of his throat which alerted Derek to look at him.
He stood there and stared at Stiles with sadness in his eyes before he started to walk towards the bed.
In such a strong need of just touching Derek, Stiles had tried to lift the hand nearest the older man, only to groan in pain seconds later, the hand lazily dropping back onto the bed.
Derek only stares, no touching Stiles or moving, just staring.
And even in this state Stiles can feel the unpleasant feeling in his stomach.
After a while Derek finally moves, just to run his fingers trough what's left of Stiles hair and then he walks out of the door again.
Stiles tells himself that Derek never really came to see him at the hospital. It makes it better to think like that instead of knowing that your own boyfriend is disgusted by you.
————————————————————————————————————————
Tears started to stream down his face from his good eye.
Why was he even doing this anymore? Why even bother to try when nothing’s ever going to go back to the way it used to be?
Why live when he would never feel the cozy and oh so warm and tingly feeling of being loved again?
Sure his dad might miss him, but that would only be for awhile. Melissa would take care of him this time. She would make him stop the mourning and drinking and get him on track again in no time, he was sure of that.
Scott, his own brother, he would blame himself, Stiles was almost positive about that. But Scott had other people in his life now, other people than Stiles who needed him. He had Kira, the lovely and fierce Kitsune, who scared Stiles more than he liked to admit, and he had the pack. The pack of teenage misfits who fought more than not but created such great balance in between when they finally got the chance to get to know each other.
But, they all had one another so it’s not like they would miss him, not really. They would think that they miss him, but when they realize that there is no spastic freak of a teenager to take care of, they would adore their lives.
Once they learn how much they love the peace and quite Stiles left behind they will probably regret the decision of ever letting Stiles into the pack.
He only hope that Derek doesn't drop them of his life like he did to him, that even if he’s got a new lover he wont forget about the pack, they deserve more than that. And if he does forget, Stiles is going to come back and haunt his furry ass down.
Stiles smiled through the tears, a small secret smile that only one other person have had the privilege to be a part of.
He thought of all the times he spent with his Sourwolf. How the first time he made Derek laugh, a real out loud laugh, how he had spat out the drink he just taken and then threaten Stiles with the ”I’ll rip your throat out, with my teeth!” before going back to eating the leftover pizza.
Or the day Derek had asked Stiles out on a date, a week before his seventeenth birthday, only to have the teenager snorting up his face about not needing pity. Derek had turned beat red and told Stiles that he didn't pity him and that everything would be alright if he just said yes, bloody hell. Ever since that day they had bean inseparable.
Or how Derek on his eighteen birthday had made love to him for the first time. So tender, and understanding to Stiles nervousness. They had taken it slow, Derek kissing every inch of Stiles body he could reach and through the whole time asking Stiles if he was okay. Derek did everything right that night, everything to make Stiles feel as good and cherished as possibly. And God it had felt so good.
After they had just laid in Derek's bed, sharing secrets. It was the first time of many Derek talked to Stiles about his family, and Kate.
Or the day Stiles officially moved into the loft about six months later, how Derek had thrown everyone out the moment the last box was placed on the floor, just to tear Stiles clothes of and take him on every available surface in the loft. It had become a late evening when Derek had decided that they where done and placed Stiles on the couch, putting in Stiles favorite Star Wars movie in the DVD, ordered take out and then claiming his place behind Stiles on the couch, making him the little spoon.
Stiles started to sob. A choked and horrid sound that hurt down deep in his chest.
Everything was ruined because of him. He had put himself in this shit and now he had to pay the price.
Straightening up Stiles took one last look in the mirror before putting on a neutral face.
It was time. And he knew how everything would come to an end.
With a panicking numb feeling inside his body he made his way out of the bathroom and into the living area. His feet worked on their own and suddenly he was standing in front of the big window.
Without thinking he opened it.
Blood started to rush in his ears and his hand shook.
He sticked his head outside the big window and looked down on the street below.
It wasn't high enough.
Looking around Stiles caught sight of the fire ladder beside the window, one way leading to the ground, the other to the roof.
Stiles reached for the ladder before his brain started kick back in and doubt his decision.
The way up was long, longer than he had expected and he was shaking like a leaf from head to toe when he had dragged his body over the top.
For a while he just stood there, staring at the light of the city. It was quite beautiful, that he would admit, but there was nothing left for him here, nothing but painful memories.
He moved towards the edge, never taking his eyes of his beloved Beacon Hills.
Well at the edge Stiles stared to let himself feel again. His jumping pulse and jackrabbit heart, souring in his ear and the dryness in his mouth.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The smell of forest came to him, together with the heart wrecking smell of fire.
Wrenching his eyes harder together to stop the tears Stiles took another small step toward the edge.
”This is my chance of setting everyone free. To make everyone feel happy again. To let Derek be with the one who put the light back in his eyes, the person who succeeded with something I couldn’t.
One more, and everything would be just freedom.
He was just about to take that last step, when a roar was heard behind him and two arms circled his upper chest not even second later.
Stiles was confused and chocked to say at least, trying to fight of the arms pinning him to the other body.
The growling, which hadn't stopped since the first outburst, reduced to a sorrowed purr as Stiles continued to trash and scream at the faceless body.
The persons head nuzzled into the junction between his neck and shoulder and thats when it hit him. It was Derek who had found him.
Not being able to sort out all the feelings inside him, Stiles body gave out. He collapsed unwillingly into Dereks strong embrace and just cried. Cried out for everything bad that had happen to him, his mom's death, his dad's abuse of alcohol, his best friend being turned into a freaking werewolf, everything that had made Stiles life a living hell.
And Derek, Derek just held him and let him cry while he whispered sweet nothing into his ear.
Derek didn’t get to do that. Derek didn't get to freaking leave him on his own for months and then show up right at the moment Stiles needed him, like a fucking hero.
But Stiles didn't push Derek away because as much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Derek. And if it would just be for tonight, or maybe just for a few hours, he would take it. He would take what he could get because Stiles was selfish enough to keep Derek with him when he probably much rather would spend time with his new lover.
The panic attack Stiles had suppressed for days suddenly bubbled to the top and took over his body,
His lungs screamed for air and his whole body was began to be covered by a thin layer of cold sweat.
Sensing the younger boys distress Derek sat down with Stiles plastered to his own chest. He placed a hand over the teens overworking heart and begged him to breath with him, trying to match his breathing pace and listen to his heartbeat.
After some time the teen calmed down but the sudden attack had made him lose the ability to move his body as he wanted and he was so tired.
Derek sat there with his beautiful mate in his arms, thinking and trying to remember where it all went wrong.
Of course he knew the answer to that, but he didn't want to believe it.
He had been so focused on trying to make everything right that he had forgotten the most important part, being there for Stiles.
He looked down at the drowsy teen and kissed his scarred cheek. He had missed holding him like this, caging him into his arms to protect him from the world.
A tear slide down his face, then another when he thought of Stiles succeeding on ending his life. Of the horrible scenario if Derek hadn't been there in time. The one where Stiles had taken his own life.
That his witty and charming boy wanted to end his life made Derek's wolf whine in agony.
Derek shuddered and squeezed the boy in his arms a little tighter while looking up at the stars.
He had made a mistake, another, huge, mistake, but this time he would fix it. He would make his Stiles happy again.
He looked down at the boy again and smiled a watery smile. He would give this boy the world because that’s the thing his boy deserved, he would give him everything if that meant that Derek could stay by his side forever.
————————————————————————————————————————
Stiles wakes up with a groan and with no idea where he is.
He has no memory of the night before, or the day for all that matters. But something his almost certain of is that he didn't climb the stairs to his bedroom.
He could feel a deep ache in his body, the kinds he gets after a panic attack, which is great, just fucking fantastic. That’s just what he needs.
It’s hot, almost too hot actually and it’s a great change from the cold mornings he’s used to, but there’s something that isn't right about it. It’s not the kind of heat you get from a fireplace or the sun, no this is the kind of one you get from another person.
Suddenly Stiles is wide awake and kind of afraid, because let's face it, it’s never a good sign if you wake up in bed with a person with no memory of what happened the day before.
Trying to get a grip of everything Stiles goes trough the most possible aspects in his head.
It can’t be a stranger in his bed because Stiles does not go out anymore so there is no possible way that he could have met someone and dragged the said person home to his bed (and what kind of insane person would go home with him anyway), and even if Derek's not home he would never have it in him to cheat on him with a one night stand.
It could be Scott. Maybe Stiles called him during the panic attack and, being the good friend he is, he ran to the loft just to calm Stiles down and they ended up falling asleep (that had happen numerous times). That could be a possibility.
But if he would go by the way the person behind him held onto Stiles, the thick arms and the naked chest, it wasn't Scott.
There was only one more option left.
Stiles gasped. He was back.
Filled with excitement he shuffled and turned around, being a little bit of a problem because the sheets and the strong arms around him.
He laid on his side and sure enough, it was Derek holding him. His beautiful Sourwolf had finally come back to him.
Derek mumbled something under his breath and it was one of the loveliest sounds Stiles has ever heard.
Drinking Derek in, he didn't catch on when the werewolf started to stir until he finally opened his eyes.
That’s when it all hit him.
The loneliness. The self-hating.
Derek cheating on him. Climbing up the ladder. Trying to end his own life. It all came back.
A strange and strangled sound escapes his throat, a sound that was so much like from an dying animal that Stiles became afraid of himself.
And much like the other few times Derek just stared at him without saying anything. Not a single word. And there was this sadness and guilt in his eyes, and that only confirmed Stiles suspicions even further. Which made him come back to where it all started.
Derek was still just laying there in their bed, not saying a shit when Stiles had tried to kill himself just a few hours before.
Anger bubbled inside him, hot like a flame and explosive like a volcano and with a voice as low as a growl he could get he bit out ”Get out of here. Now.”
Derek was taken aback. Stiles had never used that voice against him, not even when they have been fighting and he certainly hadn't asked Derek to leave before.
Stiles was the kind of person who would seek comfort in another person when he was upset, someone to tell him that everything would be alright. But Derek could feel the fierce, the anger and hatred towards himself so this apparently was not the case.
He couldn't really understand why Stiles was so angry with him though. Sure, he hadn't been around as much as he used to, but he had a good reason to and once Stiles discovered it he would understand. And hopefully he would be happy.
He hadn’t forgotten anything important what he knew of, Claudia's death anniversary wasn't until late august and Stiles birthday two weeks before that. The Sheriff was safe, he had met him just the other day and the man hadn't mention anything coming up and he had daily conversations with each member of the pack. So what had he missed?
Unaware of Dereks inner debate, Stiles climbed of the bed to search for som decent clothes to put on.
Well finished he turned to look at the man in his bed.
”If you're not out of here after I've come out of the bathroom I'm calling the police, is that clear?” without waiting for an answer Stiles stormed to the bathroom connected to their bedroom and slammed the door shut and locked it.
Stiles never locked the bathroom door.
Something cold settled inside of Derek. He must have done something terrible for his mate to act like that against him.
Derek didn’t take the threat, didn't move from the bed and he was so not out of the loft when the lock to the bathroom door clicked and Stiles opened the door.
He knew he never been good with words, Stiles knew that, he knew that Derek was incapable of talking about things and that's what made Stiles so perfect, because he never pushed Derek to talk but he was always there just in case.
”Didn’t I tell you to get the hell out of here” Stiles said and walked to stand at the end of the bed.
”I need to know” mumbled Derek into his own chest.
”What did you say?” Stiles bite back.
Derek slowly raised his head to look Stiles in the eye. ”I need to know what I did wrong, I need to know so that I can fix it”
”Please Derek, don't play stupid. You know what you have done. And there’s no fixing it this time.” Stiles felt tired. Why couldn't Derek just confess so he could go back to his self pitying.
Derek was at loss. ”You need to tell me because I seriously don't know, please. There must be a way to fix it” he said while he started to emerge from the bed.
Stiles was hurt. This was the first conversation they have had in months and Derek just had to make it all harder then it already was.
”Don’t you think I know! Do you really take me for being so stupid that I can’t recognize the signs when I get it shoved up my face!” he started to scream and he became hot all over.
”What do you know Stiles?” Derek shouted back. ”Tell me, what did I do that was so horrible that you can’t stand to be in the same room as me anymore?”
”God dammit Derek, you're cheating on me!” saying it out loud made it real, God so real, and it hurt. But Stiles would never show that to Derek.
Said man had just gone sickly pale and all the tension and anger in his body had disappeared, like someone had switched a button.
”Y-you, you t-think… You think t-that I would…” he stuttered and looked at his mate with lost eyes.
Stiles not understanding Derek's change of attitude continued on the same line as before.
”For fuck sake Derek, what am I suppose to believe, huh? Ever since I got this” he pointed towards his scarred face and lifeless eye, ”you’ve kept your distance, you stopped touching me or even look at me. It started of with late nights home and ended with you not coming home at all. I can see the signs! Staying away at nights, weird and hushed phone calls, heck, I even smelled women perfume on the clothes you put in the washing bin. How do you explain all that Derek?” when Stiles had finished his little speech he was breathing hard and in short puffs and he was glaring at Derek with pleading eyes.
It did not look good, Derek can admit that, but he would never ever even think of cheating on Stiles, and to know that that’s exactly what Derek have done made him furious. Not at Stiles, not at his amazing mate, no but at himself. He had made his own mate feel unloved enough to think that he was cheated on. If there was anyones throat Derek wanted to rip out it was his own.
His train of thought was interrupt by Stiles voice.
”Dude just, I don’t know, just let me pack my stuff and you will get the loft back, okay? I’ll need a few days to collect all the crap I've got here, maybe Scott will help me, but once that’s done I promise you will never have to see me again and you can stop sneaking around with the girl your fucking and hey, now you even get to take her home.” Stiles was defeated, everything about him screamed it, but he wanted to leave this breakup with a little bit of his dignity left. Still he couldn't stop the words flowing out of his mouth.
”I mean, she must be suspicious really, since you never come here, or maybe she knows that you're already in a relationship and she knows who I am and feels sorry for you, or, or maybe you never go to bed with the same person, shit that even made me feel even worse, I don't know why I just thought that…” and there disappeared the last of Stiles dignity.
In need of stopping Stiles, stop all these awful words that spew out of his mouth Derek burst out ”I’m building a house!”
Everything became quiet except for the two boys harsh breathing.
”Sorry, you said…?” Stiles forced out.
Feeling that nothing worse could happen and that the surprise was already ruined now Derek continued, ”I’ve started to build a house, just a small one, for us.” Derek mumbled.
Taking Stiles lack of words as a sign to keep going he continued, ”You’ve never liked the loft, you made that very clear, but I always thought that it would have to do until you finished college and we could start our own lives for real, together. But when the Alpha attacked you that night I saw that life pass by like a flash. I was so afraid that I had lost you, that we would never grow old together, you don't know how afraid I was, still am that someone or something will come barging in and take you from me. So I made a promise that night, that I would’t make plans for the future when I could make them happen today. Why decide what to happen tomorrow when we might not live for that long. So I started build the house you talked about the night you turned eighteen, just a small cabinet of a house in the clearing next to the old Hale house. I’ts not much, but it will be ours. Hopefully.” this all made Derek feel insecure and his face was red as a tomato when he was finished speaking.
Stiles felt awful. Not only had he falsely accused Derek of cheating on him, but he did it while Derek was away trying building his dream house.
But there was some things he didn't understand.
”But what about the phone calls or the perfume and the absent nights? How do you explain them?”
”The phone calls has been to a women named Sophie. She's helping me with the construction of the house. We meet up a few times a month to go trough the building plan, it’s also her perfume you have smelled those times, and I've stopped coming home at night because i’m behind. I’ve got a date when the house has to be done and i’m no where near even being finished by then. The only way to save time is to work at night.” Derek shrugs his shoulders, like there’s no big deal, and ohmygod can’t he see that it so is.
If Stiles felt awful before, he felt the absolute worst now. He’s been laying in his own self pitying, crying while Derek, the perfect man he is, had gone out to build a freaking house to himself and Stiles.
”Oh my God” he breathed while he started to feel the burning behind his eyes. ”I am an idiot. I’m terrible and the worst human being alive. I’m so sorry Derek, I never… Why would you… How can you even look at me right now! How could you ever stand to be in the same room as me! I really thought… But you would never…. I know that it’s just…” he didn't get further before he felt a hand softly being placed on is right cheek and another on his hip.
”You have done nothing wrong, understood? I’m the one who's been leaving you without a given reason. I’m the one who's been curt to you and I’m the one who stopped touching you. You only told yourself what many other would do in your position, I would have too” trying to get eye contact with the younger man Derek kept his voice soft and warm.
Giving into the soft embrace, Stiles let the tears fall while he whispered ” I'm sorry, I'm sorry” over and over again.
Derek steered the duo back to bed and pulled the covers over them.
It took some time but Stiles calmed down, but kept making these small whimpers, and Derek never let him go. He would never let the teen go ever again.
Time passed, how long neither of them knew, until Stiles broke the silence.
”When where you gonna tell me about the house?” he asked without lifting his head from the junction between Dereks shoulder and neck.
Derek stopped the hand movement trough Stiles hair, just to let it continue seconds later.
”The date for it to be finished was the day before your birthday” he said while nuzzling the boy hair.
A small smile sneaked onto Stiles lips.
”I don’t want to see it before” he mumbled.
Derek chuckled out a small ”promise” and kissed his head.
Everything was magically not better, but hey they would try.
After all, thats all they could do.