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To say that Stiles had absolutely no game would be on the kind side. That isn’t to say that he wasn’t attractive, even handsome in a goofy sort of way. It was just, he was so completely awkward and hyper that even if a person was attracted to him at first glance, as soon as the sarcasm or the tripping over himself was presented, they would give him an apologetic smile and then all considerations were zeroed out.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried, either. All the Adderall in the world wouldn’t be sufficient enough to calm the young man’s head enough for him to even be successful at wooing someone of either gender. So, he had grown content with being the lanky, over animated side kick to his suddenly lupine best friend, Scott.
That was what made the more recent events of running with the werewolves so disconcerting and confusing to his ADHD addled brain. First it started out with being roughly shoved against walls as not-so veiled threats were growled in his face. Then there were moments of peaceable, even kind of relaxed, interactions between he and the older, leather clad werewolf.
There were sarcastic jabs, half-believed threats, and glares shared between he and Derek so often that it had sort of become amicable. There were moments of grudging trust as they saved each others asses from near death, Derek being the savior more often than the saved.
So it sort of came as no surprise when he and Derek were hiding in the dark recesses of an old warehouse from some new supernatural baddie. Well, most of it came as no surprise, anyway.
Derek had a firm grip on the back of Stiles’ neck, keeping him from moving forward and adding a slight hint of a threat that the young spazz should keep quiet. He was glaring away from Stiles, looking around a corner, listening for the sound of whatever was after them this time. However, in the long minutes of quiet, as Stiles started to fidget from inactivity, something truly odd started to happen. It was as if, of it’s own volition, Derek’s thumb began to stroke lightly at the side of Stiles’ neck. It was almost soothing, except at the same time it was a little bit—problematic.
The way Derek’s thumb was positioned, it kept stroking at the back of Stiles’ earlobe as it passed up and down his neck and that was a little harder to ignore than the rest of his neck. His ears were a little bit of a hot spot.
Stiles licked his lips, staring ahead of himself and biting the inside of his cheek to keep the urge to groan in check. Derek’s attention shifted and he frowned, eyebrows drawing together as he looked to the pale teen. Stiles was blinking rather rapidly, keeping his eyes locked ahead of himself, his hands balled against his jeans as he went a little bit ridged at Derek’s sudden scrutiny.
“What’s wrong with you.” The older man hissed lightly, the nails of his fingers pressed harmlessly against Stiles’ skin.
“Oh, nothing.” Stiles said in a hash counter whisper. “Would you mind not stroking my neck like I’m a pet, though? A little bit distracting, considering the life or death connotations of the moment.”
“What? I wasn’t stroking your neck.” Derek growled quietly.
“I’m pretty sure you were. I may not get much, or any, I guess, game, but I do know what a stroke is like, and your thumb, it was stroking my neck.” Stiles snipped back, turning his head a bit to return the glare he was getting from Derek.
“I was not stroking your neck.” The other man growled again, his eye flashing red, fingers tightening around the back of the young man’s neck.
Stiles hissed lightly, rocking on his toes a bit. “Yep, nope, got it. Not stroking. No stroking here.”
Derek growled and went back to staring around the corner, listening. It wasn’t even five minutes later when the thumb was at it again, stroking at his hair line this time. Stiles looked at the ceiling, licking his lips again and fidgeting a bit, the stroking paused a moment and resettled over the original path.
“You know, I really don’t know what it is with you and touching me. I mean really, I get that I’m a fine piece of man meat, but it seems like every time we get into this kind of thing you put your hands on me and I get all flustered.” Stiles started rambling in a whisper. “I mean, not that I really mind. Hell, it’s about as much play as I’ve ever gotten but seriously man, I don’t understand it.”
Derek growled and glared at him. “Do you want us to get caught?”
“No. No, no. I can’t say that death by whatever that thing out there interests me much at all.” Stiles licked his lips, his fingers curling and uncurling against his legs. “Just…”
Derek groaned and shifted a bit, pinning Stiles against the wall his hands balled in the young man’s shirts. “Just what, Stiles? You obviously can’t be quiet long enough for us to not get killed, so what? Tell me, it’s the last thing I want to hear before I die.” He growled at the teen.
“It’s just… Confusing.” Stiles replied quietly, licking his lips. “All sorts of confusing. Baffling, really. The touching.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t have waited to talk about this until after we weren’t being stalked in a dark warehouse?”
“No, not really. You’re more evasive when we’re not int life threatening situations.” Stiles admitted, shrugging weakly.
“You are an idiot.” Derek grumbled, pausing and listening, one of his hands clamping over Stiles’ mouth.
This didn’t help anything because it filled Stiles’ nose full of the smell of leather and the unique scent that was Derek Hale. He swallowed, closing his eyes, hoping that he made it out of this just for the pure injustice it would be to die with a boner.
Derek pulled him further back into the shadows, pressing himself bodily against the teen, his hand still covering his mouth as he watched the gloom for their pursuer. Again, of it’s own volition, Derek’s thumb began to stroke, this time along Stiles’ cheek bone in a gentle, calming manner.
Stiles’ heart was hammering in his chest and he closed his eyes tightly to keep himself from watching the digit glide over his cheek so close to his eye. He licked his hips behind the hand, his tongue accidentally brushing skin, which only added to the problems with the current situation.
He missed the glare from Derek when his tongue touched his palm, his eyes still closed tightly. His eyes shot open as the older man leaned in closer and he felt his nose brushing along the side of his jaw and neck. Stiles went ridged, his brown eyes wide as he stared at the werewolf.
“You reek of fear and arousal.” Derek growled in his ear. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you get off on these life or death situations, Stiles.”
“No.” Stiles murmured against his hand ruefully, looking to the ceiling again.”No, that isn’t it. The pinning, touching, and general disregard for personal space, maybe. Not the life or death thing. I really don’t like the idea of death at all, actually. Got a dad to watch after all.”
Derek raised his eyebrow at him, his usual scowl still there. Stiles wondered if he had understood the muffled mutterings, then again he knew he probably did. He was a werewolf, he was actually surprised sometimes when Derek didn’t just hear what he was thinking.
“I seriously think you need to rethink your life decisions, kid.” Derek muttered, going back to looking around.
It was almost two hours before Derek deemed it was safe for them to actually move. The big bad seemed to have lost interest in them and had left. Stiles slid down the wall when Derek let him, go. He was tired and his legs ached from standing in one place too long.
He ran his hands over his peach fuzz hair and groaned a bit at the buzz in his ears. “Well that was fun. Seriously, we should do this more often. The whole, confusing, frustrating virgin teasing is really becoming my favorite past time. Really.”
Derek rolled his eyes and pulled Stiles to his feet. “That really sounds like a personal problem that has nothing to do with me.”
“Uh-huh, except your the instigator of the confusion and frustration.” Stiles made a motion between them with his hand. “I mean, really. You really have to tell me what it is with you and the touching. At least then maybe I won’t do something completely embarrassing and stupid. Well, more embarrassing and stupid than usual, I mean.”
“Do you ever shut up?” Derek grumbled and started walking off.
“I was quiet for two hours! Two! I managed to not talk. You’re not getting away with ears intact after that. I’m just overflowing with nervous energy and agitation that I need to unleash it.” Stiles replied, falling in step beside him, his hands flailing and making gestures. “And I put up with being pinned to a wall with a hand over my mouth. I think that’s earned me some sort of brownie points. More than the two hours I kept your heavy, paralyzed ass from drowning. At least then I could talk.”
“That’s your own fault for following me when I told you not to.” Derek growled.
“Oh, like I’m actually going to listen to you when you tell me to do something? You and I both know that if I hadn’t’ve tagged along, you would have tired fighting whatever that thing was and would have ended up needing a ride to Dr. Deaton’s place because you’re a stubborn jackass with a death wish. Really, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as enamored with danger like you are.”
Derek snarled and whirled around, grabbing hold of Stiles’ shirt. “You’re the danger junkie. You don’t seem to understand that you’re human and you need to keep your nose out of my business, Stiles.”
“Nope, sorry. I can’t exactly do that because you dying would mean that Erika, Boyd, Issac, Jackson, and Scott would be without a mentor. Or whatever you are.” Stiles made a vague gesture at him with a hand, a small, crooked smile coming to his lips. “Besides, following you around gives me something to do. Something useful and it helps.”
“It does not help. You get in the way. It is not useful.”
“Maybe not for you.” Stiles shrugged a bit, one of his hands resting on one of the ones Derek had balled in his shirt. “It helps me. It… I don’t know how to explain it.” Stiles frowned a bit and shook his head. “I was able to keep still and quiet, Derek. For two hours! You don’t understand how hard that is. How—” He shook his head again. “If I was able to bottle that up and use it. Man, I could probably be able to focus. These little outings, they’re better than my Adderall.”
Derek blinked at him, confused. Stiles was concentrating on how exactly to explain it, his hands fidgeting. He held one hand up by his face, his fingers curling and uncurling a bit as he tried to figure the words out before looking back up at Derek with a sound of confusion.
“I can’t—” He shook his head, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like you ground me. Look, I need you as much as you need me.”
“I don’t need you.” Derek growled.
“Liar.” Stiles said flatly. “If you didn’t need me, you wouldn’t be lurking around all the time or breaking into my house at all hours of the night. Face it, sourwolf. You need me.”
Derek jerked him closer, growling, his eyes flashing red. Stiles blinked at him with wide eyes, licking his lips and tightening his grip on Derek’s wrist. Stiles’ free hand suddenly struck out and Derek braced for a punch or something. Instead the long, boney fingers balled in the back of his dark hair and jerked him forward, setting him off balance from surprise.
Stiles’ lips were pressed hard against Derek’s for a moment. It wasn’t long, because as soon as the surprise wore off, Derek shoved the teen backwards, his eyes flashing red and his fangs bared in outrage.
Stiles laughed, wiping a bit of blood off his lip where a fang caught it. He looked positively manic, grinning at Derek.
“Okay, maybe I’m wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time.” He laughed again, teasing the cut on his lip with his tongue. “That’s not going to turn me right? Because that would really suck.”
“No, you idiot.” Derek grumbled, his nose wrinkling a bit of the taste of blood in his mouth. Stiles’ blood.
“Oh, good. I actually think that’s the stupidest thing I’ve done this week.” Stiles said, pushing his lip out oddly, trying to get a look at the cut.
Derek growled, watching him, advancing. Stiles blinked and threw his hands up, stepping back, grinning nervously.
“Sorry, sorry. I won’t mention it again. Stupid Stiles. Got it.”
The advancing didn’t stop. He grabbed hold of Stiles’ shirts again, grabbing hold of his chin with the other hand and gripping it tightly. He studied the cut as Stiles stared at him wide eyed, his jaw slightly slack from shock.
Stiles’ tongue darted out, licking away the fresh blood, which spread quickly over his tongue. Derek watched the movement, his head tilted a bit as Stiles’ lips curled in as he swallowed nervously.
His lips were ajar again and he was staring at the werewolf, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. Derek locked eyes with him and leaned closer, his own tongue laving over the bleeding spot on Stiles’ lip. He sucked the injured spot into his mouth and Stiles made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a moan, his eyelids siding down so that he was looking at the werewolf with half open eyes.
Teeth pulled at the swollen, bleeding spot and the hand that had been gripping the teen’s chin shifted around to the back of his neck. Stiles took a sharp inhale, his lips opening a bit more as Derek’s went from exploring the injury to earnestly pressing against the whole of Stile’s mouth. Teeth and tongue and growls assaulted Stiles’ mouth, sending his senses all a-tingle.
Idle, fidgeting hands balled in leather and there was several minutes that Stiles couldn’t breath because he was concentrating much more on the fact that someone was kissing him. Derek pulled back when a small noise of desperation left the teenager and Stiles took in a deep breath, panting heavily and leaning just as heavily against Derek.
“Well, that was exciting.” Stiles said breathlessly, his forehead pressed against the werewolf’s shoulder. “Very exciting. Quite enjoyable. I think we should do that again. We should do that a lot.”
He kissed the werewolf as soon as he managed to take in another deep breath. Derek rumbled a little and reciprocated, his thumb stroking again, causing Stiles to laugh against his mouth.
“There you go again. Stroking me like a pet.” Stiles murmured against his mouth.
“I am not stroking.” Derek growled, though this time he knew he was, his teeth catching the injured lip. “Shut up, idiot.”
There was a loud, rather startling sound and they both went still, staring at one another.
“Okay, so maybe that thing didn’t move on… But we’re so not done doing this.” Stiles whispered. “Not by a long shot, got me, Hale.”
Derek growled and quickly pulled away, grabbing hold of Stile’s wrist, towing him after him as fast as he could. They got out of the warehouse and made a breakneck run for Stiles’ jeep, Stiles juggling his keys and Derek snatching them. He jumped into the driver’s seat and jerked the teenager into the passenger’s seat, starting the jeep as quickly as possible. The creature they had been hiding from came into view.
“Go. Go go go go go!” Stiles yelped as it started to surge down at them.
Derek threw the jeep into reverse and the tires screeched in protest before they caught traction. They hurtled backwards and then were speeding off as fast as Derek could switch gears.
Stiles looked over the seat as they put distance between them and whatever that thing had been, his eyes wide. Derek jerked him to sitting down in his seat properly, reaching over him to grab the seat belt.
“Well, that was fun.” Stiles said grinning at the werewolf.
Derek scowled a bit, though, for a second there was a smile on his lips. “You’re an idiot.”