Chapter Text
Stiles didn’t hear the heartbeat or see the soul that was glowing in his room. All he knew was that the moment he opened his bedroom door, in a flash he was pushed against it, shutting it closed. Stiles’ eyes glowed and his wings tensed at the sudden attack. He thrashed trying to escape, but after a moment he stilled after he realised the familiarity of the soul. Derek had put his right forearm against Stiles’ neck and his left hand near Stiles’ right shoulder against the door. Red eyes bore down into gold ones as Stiles tried to fully calm his heart. Stiles suddenly realised that there was a red wolf shaped mist glowing around Derek and opened his mouth to make a snarky comment when Derek spoke.
“So, Winchester, how’s the wings?” Stiles felt a sudden rush of anger and the next second their potions were switched.
Derek bared his teeth and Stiles put his hand over Derek’s mouth. “Listen.” Stiles felt his wings automatically spread to their full size as his anger grew. Derek went still for a moment before Stiles felt pain in his hand. “Did you bite me?” Stiles looked at his hand to see it slowly heal with only blood being left behind as evidence. Stiles looked up in confusion to see Derek’s blank face and he felt like screaming. “You can’t tell anyone.” Stiles said calmly after a moment. “It’s for the pack's safety. The less that people know then the less others will be looking for me.” Stiles watched Derek's face for a reaction. After a moment of silence, Stiles stepped back until the back of his knees hit his bed. He sat down while maintaining eye contact with Derek. Stiles could hear the frantic beating of the werewolf’s heart. The heat in his eyes suddenly got too much and he put his head in his hands. He doesn’t know how long he sat there with his elbows on his knees with his head buried when the bed suddenly dipped as Derek sat next to him.
“How?”
He heard Derek sigh. “You really aren’t good at covering your tracks.” Stiles looked up at him in shock. Shit. He suddenly flopped backwards while rubbing his hands down his face knowing that Derek was watching him. He layed like that as the silence came back in a thick cloud. Stiles almost jumped when a hand hesitantly rested on his knee. It wasn’t unwelcomed, but Stiles definitely did not want to address the feeling in his chest. “I won’t tell.” Stiles felt relieved. “How did I end up with a Winchester and a Nephilim?” There was a teasing tone that made Stiles smile. “I mean I must be pretty lucky.” Stiles shook his head, still smiling.
“Cursed. Winchesters are cursed, so it's actually bad luck.” Stiles replied softly as he looked over at Derek to find him nodding while looking at his hand that was still on Stiles’ knee. Stiles took the moment to actually get a look at Derek. Nothing has really changed in the last couple of years, just a small bit of facial hair and tired eyes. The moonlight was sipping through the blinds and made him look angelic which Stiles found ironic. Stiles looked over at his clock to find it to be 19:30. God, today felt so long.
“Does your dad know about the pack?” Stiles sucked in a breath and Derek looked over while starting to draw circles on his knee. Stiles nodded while covering his eyes with his forearm, not trusting his words at the moment. “Is the pack in danger?” Stiles shook his head without moving his arm. Stiles could sense Derek nodding. Fuck it.
“I told him last summer. He’s fine with everything because Argent is here. I also made sure that the rest of the hunter community knows that Beacon Hills is off the table because it’s Argent’s territory. He knows about everyone. He knows that I got Scott bit. He knows about your habit of sneaking into my room.”– Derek’s hand stilled – “It’s fine. Everyone is safe. Hell my dad practically said that he would even help if we needed it.”
It was silent for a moment and Stiles finally realised the situation he was in. Derek’s hand on his knee seemed to burn suddenly and Stiles was aware of their breathing being the only noise in the room . After a moment everything quickly seemed overwhelming when Derek went back to making circles. Stiles felt lost on what to do with his feelings at the moment. Why? Should we? Can we? Stiles slowly realised that Derek always seemed to touch him in some way in the most mundane things. Oh Fuck. No. no? Stiles suddenly wanted to punch the werewolf and demand answers, but pushed the thought down as quickly as it came. “Why?” The question came out vaguely in a soft voice. Stiles' heart pounded and he pushed out his grace to gain some control over the situation.
He can sense Derek’s confusion then realisation. “Apparently I have a thing for hunters.” The words sounded out of character and forced, but strangely full of truth. Stiles could feel Derek’s emotions clash and decided to just give a hum of acknowledgement as his head spinned with emotions and trains of thoughts crashing.
Lost was an understatement for Derek. He looked down next to him at the boy sprawled across the bed with an arm over his eyes. He could feel the warmth in the room change as if it was charged with energy. He watched as the light spilled in and made Stiles' pale skin glow and highlight his muscles. It wasn’t until a simple word pulled him out of his thoughts which led to his current situation.
Derek couldn’t find the words for why Stiles pulled him in. Every touch or close proximity brought warmth. At first Derek thought Stiles was simply a space heater with too much energy, but there were times when the warmth burned under his skin. Those sparse moments of confrontation between them were brought to the forefront of his mind. He could feel the ghost of the addictive adrenaline spike that happens when he gets Stiles riled up. Stiles finally uncovered his eyes and stared back at Derek. Derek could see the faint gold glow that fascinated him every time he found his eyes meeting Stiles’. “I should go before Peter burns down the loft.” It was a lie and Derek wondered if Stiles knew. He didn’t exactly know a lot about Nephilims. Stiles nodded and rolled out of Derek’s touch to stand. Derek watched him sit at the desk unphased. After a moment, Derek made it out the window; Stiles didn’t even yell at him this time. Fuck.
Derek made his way to the loft. The walk was long as he sorted his thoughts, but he didn’t particularly have the energy to notice. “Fuck…’Why?’” Derek suddenly felt conscious of how much he acknowledged Stiles above his pack. The touching and close proximity was building and Derek only noticed after Stiles pointed it out. The looks turned into small touches to trusting Stiles with his life, and he knew he was gone. With Kate it didn’t feel this way, it felt fast with an underline of uncomfortableness that turned to fear.
Why? ….
“Because you are the best thing to ever happen.”
Stiles had punched his door. Now that he sat on his bed and looked through the hole into the hall, he realised that it may have been a small overreaction. He forgave himself for not noticing Derek in his room, but the underlying emotions that weren’t strong enough to name were overwhelming and it pissed him off.
“Why?”