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“Hey, guys!” Stiles called out as soon as he had swung the door to the McCall house open and spotted the others further inside. “Have you seen Derek recently?”
He, for one, hadn’t seen Derek in days. Okay, to be fair, it had only been two days since he last saw him, but that was still too long, and he was starting to get worried. It wouldn’t have been the first time Derek disappeared without telling anyone, and Stiles didn’t want to walk into the loft and find it empty. Again.
Scott was the first to answer, shrugging as he spoke. “I don’t know, I saw him a few days ago. Why?”
Stiles stopped when he had only just stepped into the living room, his hands curled into fists in the pockets of his jacket. “I just- I haven’t heard from him in two days now. Two days!”
Scott quirked a brow at him and shared a quick look with the others, before he turned back to looking at his best friend. “Dude, it’s just two days. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Stiles didn’t really listen when Lydia spoke up, nor did he listen when Kira spoke next. He didn’t listen because he was busy thinking of places he could find Derek, places where Derek would hang out. There weren’t many, so it wouldn’t take long, and he would quickly find out if Derek was missing or not.
Bopping his head in quick, short nods, he backed out of the living room. “Alright well, I’m gonna go look for him. Bye!”
And then he practically ran out of the McCall house and to his jeep, ignoring whatever Scott called after him.
*
The loft was the first place he drove to. Derek had moved back into it when he had returned to Beacon Hills the year before, after the supernatural chaos had turned to a minimum and a rarity. He still hadn’t bothered furnishing it much though, but the rest of the pack had been talking about doing it for him. Some day.
Stiles practically ran up the stairs through the building, heart pounding in his chest. He had tried to ignore the worst case scenarios his mind had imagined, but it wasn’t easy. Not after everything they had been through.
Sure, it had been quiet on the evil end for a while now, but that didn’t mean something couldn’t come back and take them all by surprise.
The door was locked when he finally reached the top floor, and he unlocked it with slightly shaking hands, before pushing it open and looking inside. The whole place was dark, the sun already going down outside and not beaming light through the floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk.
Sliding the door closed behind him before stepping inside, Stiles let his eyes wander over the place, trying to spot either Derek or any signs that he had packed his stuff or left.
Or even worse, that someone had come and taken him away.
He was looking for signs of struggle when his eyes landed on the bed, and he spotted the lump of a person on the far left side of the bed, head of black hair only just poking out from under the blanket covering the rest of him.
Stiles’ shoulders slumped and a sigh of release left him. “Are you kidding?” he murmured, keeping his voice low as he quietly walked over toward the bed. “I’ve been worried sick about you, and you’re just sleeping? For two days. You’re unbelievable, Derek.”
The lump didn’t move more than occasionally falling and rising as Derek breathed, and Stiles quietly moved around to the left side of the bed. He didn’t want to wake Derek, didn’t want to pull him out of his obviously very much needed sleep.
Except when he came around to the side and his eyes landed on Derek’s face, he quickly noticed that Derek’s eyes were very much opened. It was dark, sure, but those eyes were definitely not closed.
“Oh my God!” Stiles exclaimed, forgetting all about the whole being quiet thing. “You’re awake and you can’t even answer one of the five thousand texts I’ve send you?”
Groaning, he reached over to flick on the light on the bedside table. “You’re such an asshole, Derek. I was wo-” He cut himself off the second his eyes landed back on Derek.
Derek who wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t really looking at anything in particular, an empty look in his unfocused eyes. He looked tired, like he hadn’t slept in a while or drained himself from energy and just hadn’t been able to sleep.
Slowly, Stiles dropped down to a crouch and placed a hand on the bed, just inches from Derek’s face. “Derek?” He kept his voice lowered, not quite a whisper but close enough.
Derek blinked and met his concerned eyes for only a second, before he moved and rolled over onto his other side, turning his back on his uninvited guest. “Leave me alone, Stiles,” he said in a thick voice.
Stiles sat there silently for exactly two seconds, before he scoffed and stood up. “Obviously you don’t know me well enough if you think I’m going to do that,” he said and walked around the bed, leaving the light on. “I’m not going anywhere until you do, so you’re stuck with me now.”
He only heard a grunt from the lump on the bed, and he rolled his eyes in response. “Don’t be so grumpy!” he called over his shoulder as he headed up the spiral staircase, headed for where he knew Derek kept his food. “You could’ve just answered one, one, of my texts, and you wouldn’t have to deal with my ass annoying you!”
When Stiles came back downstairs with a plate of food, Derek hadn’t moved much. He had only pulled the blanket further over his head and curled in on himself, and Stiles wanted to do nothing but lay down behind him and pull him close, make sure he knew he was safe and loved.
But he swallowed down that urge, put the plate on the bedside table, and reached over to give Derek’s tense shoulder a quick squeeze. “Try to eat just a little bit, Derek,” he told him, before he removed his hand and headed over to the couch to bunker down.
Derek didn’t move for hours. But when he finally did, it was to sit up and eat half the plate Stiles had prepared for him.
*
Stiles stayed on the couch for the night, helping himself to dinner and falling asleep in an awkward position. Derek didn’t move much, only left the bed once in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom - he wasn’t even wearing pants, just boxer briefs and a loose t-shirt - but when Stiles woke up the next morning, there was a blanket draped over him.
A blanket that hadn’t been there when he had fallen asleep the night before.
Leaving some breakfast behind for Derek, Stiles left the loft to go pick up some things to entertain himself while he helped Derek get better. And to let Scott and the others know what was going on, of course, but he only bothered shooting them a text, because he was racing back to the loft. Racing back to take care of Derek.
When he came back, bag over his shoulder, Derek was sitting up in his bed and eating the breakfast slowly, shoulders slumped and a tired look on his face.
“Morning, sourwolf,” Stiles said as he slid the door closed behind him and toed out of his shoes. “Sleep well?”
All he got in response was a grunt, and Stiles halfheartedly rolled his eyes and tossed his bag over on the couch, before he went over to the bed and threw himself onto it, sprawling out next to where Derek was sitting. “You know what you should do today?” he started, reaching over to steal a piece of bacon Derek hadn’t eaten yet. “You should take a shower.”
Derek’s huff was small, but Stiles smiled at it anyway. He didn’t push for Derek to say anything, only pushed a little to get him to keep eating when he stopped halfway through.
Later, after Derek had moved back under the blankets for a nap, Stiles dragged him out of bed and to the bathroom for a shower. Derek struggled, and Stiles yelled at him. Not angrily, no, because he wasn’t angry. Because he saw a little smile tugging at Derek’s lips when Stiles pushed him to the bathroom of the loft and ended up breathing heavily and leaning against the bathroom door while Derek took his shower.
And when Derek came back out, clean and with fresh clothes on, he headed straight back to bed. But he didn’t lay down. He sat up, leaned against the headboard and grabbed the book that laid on the bedside table, bookmark tugged in the middle of it.
Stiles joined him on the bed with his laptop, and they were both quietly doing their own thing.
But halfway through whatever he was doing, Stiles felt a weight on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw Derek resting his head there, eyes closed and book closed in his lap.
A small smile tugged at Stiles’ lips, and he let Derek stay there. Stay asleep on his shoulder.
*
It was two days after that, that Derek finally got out of bed and stayed out for more than just a shower. And he put on pants. Pants!
Stiles smiled at him and patted the spot next to him on the couch, inviting Derek to sit down. Which Derek did, the space between them barely there, but neither of them were uncomfortable. Derek seemed comfortable, even leaned slightly against Stiles, and Stiles was more than happy to have Derek this close to him.
See, the thing was, Stiles loved Derek. Probably always had loved him, but he hadn’t realized it until Derek walked back into their lives and promised to stay this time. Because evil was a rarity in Beacon Hills, the bad memories tugged away behind the good ones, and Derek was better.
He was, he really was. Most of the time. And Stiles did what he could to get him back to better, whenever he had setbacks. Like currently.
“Hey, wanna watch a movie?” Stiles asked a minute after pointing at a picture of a grumpy looking dog that popped up on his laptop, had told Derek “that’s you” and Derek had huffed at him.
Derek nodded, and Stiles went to Netflix to scroll through the movie list. He hovered over one of them and gave Derek a questioning look, but he clicked play before he could get a nod anyway.
The movie started, and Stiles put his laptop on the table in front of the couch, pulling his legs up to sit comfortably next to Derek.
*
Stiles wasn’t sure how it happened. One minute they were sitting in silence on the couch watching the movie on Stiles’ laptop, and the next they were both leaning in for a kiss.
A kiss that very quickly turned to Stiles climbing into Derek’s lap, and a kiss that was soft and firm for only a moment, before it turned deep and slightly dirty, tongues tasting around and exploring the other’s mouth.
Despite Derek’s hands moving up along his thighs and dangerously close to his ass, Stiles didn’t grind down, didn’t even move close enough for their clothed crotches to be touching.
Derek wasn’t in a good head space, and Stiles wasn’t about to use that just for sex with a man he had loved for longer than he knew. He loved Derek way too much for that.
He remembered that when Derek’s hands were on his ass, pulling them closer together, and he quickly leaned back, breaking the kiss. “You don’t have to do that, Derek.” His voice was lowered, slightly hoarse from the kissing, and his eyes found Derek’s hazel green ones once they opened and looked back at him.
Derek looked back at him, held Stiles’ gaze for a moment, before his eyes dropped to Stiles’ red lips. “What if I want to?” he asked, voice a low murmur.
Stiles moved his hands from Derek’s shoulders to his neck and then to the back of his head, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Derek’s. “Not tonight,” he whispered. “Tonight, we snuggle and spoon, big guy.”
They finished the movie, Stiles still in Derek’s lap and holding his hand throughout the movie, and Derek resting his head on his shoulder, nose pressing against his neck while he breathed him in.
And when the movie ended and the sun was going down, Stiles stood up without letting go of Derek’s hand and dragged him to the bed, scooting close up behind him once there and swinging an arm around him, holding him close.
Somewhere along the night, Stiles rolled onto his back, and Derek moved with him. Moved to rest his head on Stiles’ chest, ear pressed down to listen to his steady heartbeat.
It was calming, nice, and Derek didn’t feel as bad as he had no more than a few days ago.
All thanks to Stiles.
*
“I want to take a walk today.”
“Hm?” Stiles blinked and turned his head to look at Derek seated next to him on the couch. He had been lazy with breakfast and had gone and bought something, but Derek’s plate was nearly empty so he was okay with it.
“A walk?” At Derek’s short nod, Stiles smiled and leaned over to place a soft, firm, and quick kiss to his lips, smile wide when he leaned back. “We can take a walk after breakfast. It’s gonna be great.”
He leaned back and stuffed his mouth, but he didn’t stop talking. Didn’t stop rambling on about the weather and where they would go, despite food practically falling out of his mouth. It got a laugh out of Derek when food actually did fall out, so he was fine with being gross.
After breakfast, they both got their shoes on, and Stiles reached out to grab Derek’s hand as they headed for the door, lacing their fingers together.
And during the whole walk, Stiles kept holding Derek’s hand and stayed close, letting himself be an anchor for Derek.