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English
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Part 15 of Tumblr Prompts
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Published:
2016-08-03
Words:
1,195
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1/1
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11
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232
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even if your voice shakes

Summary:

Derek thought for a long while about just how he could make it up to Stiles, but he wasn’t good with words. They always got jumbled in his mouth, always stuck to his tongue, always caught in his throat when he tried to speak. So he decided to use someone else’s words.

Notes:

For the ❄ prompt: 85. "Keep singing."

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Keep singing.”

Derek hadn’t even realized he’d been singing at all. He’d gotten caught up in the soothing melodies from the radio on the counter, humming along as he mixed the batter for the chocolate chip cookies he’d decided to make on a whim. The humming had gradually shifted into him absentmindedly mumbling the words to the songs he recognized, butchering some of the lyrics as he folded in the chocolate chips and added another teaspoon of vanilla extract.

Apparently he must have been singing along much louder than he’d thought as he’d turned around to toss some eggshells into the trashcan to see Stiles lingering in the doorway, holding a bowl from dinner. He’d chewed on his lip and urged Derek to continue.

Stiles was looking up at him with a broad smile, looking so earnest and expectant Derek felt his chest ache as he stuttered out an apologetic refusal. Feeling his cheeks flush with warmth, he croaked out, “Uh… I I… I can’t…”

“Oh,” Stiles answered, his face dropping for a moment before he quickly plastered on another smile. He shrugged casually, walking forward to put the bowl in his hands in the sink, spraying it with some water and leaving it to soak. “That’s alright, dude.”

Derek could immediately smell the disappointment that clung to Stiles’ skin, traces of guilt lacing his scent. Derek winced, wanting to whine. He hadn’t meant to upset Stiles, hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty about asking for something so simple. He’d just been embarrassed and shy.

It was still hard for him to be open, to freely express himself without fear of judgement or rejection or ridicule. He was gradually getting better at it, not hiding everything behind glares and posturing, but it was still an uphill climb and he was sure Stiles’ patience would run out eventually.

He wished there were a way he could convey his true thoughts, his real feelings, but he didn’t think Hallmark made a card that said ‘ Sorry I’m so emotionally constipated and insecure. I’m still  dealing with getting over the fact that some monster used me to burn my house down and kill  my entire family but I swear I’m tryin g and I love you, I really do.’

He couldn’t imagine there would be a very big market for that.

Now he just wanted to apologize, wanted to kiss away any trace of guilt or sadness or unease that Stiles felt, wanted to wrap him up in his arms and hold him tight until he smiled a genuine smile again. But instead he went back to stirring the cookie dough.

Stiles slipped past Derek and hauled himself up onto the counter, sitting beside the side and swinging his legs restlessly. He leaned over to stick a finger in the mixing bowl, scooping up a dollop of cookie dough and quickly popping it into his mouth. He laughed maniacally when Derek smacked his hand with the wooden spoon he was using to mix the dough, glaring at him half-heartedly.

“You’re gonna get salmonella,” Derek informed him as he grabbed the cookie sheet from the stovetop, moving it to the other counter.

“Salmonella’s in the shells, Derek,” Stiles snorted, rolling his eyes as he licked a dab of dough off his knuckles.

“Whatever you say,” Derek said, shaking his head, sure he was going to regret his words eventually as he started spooning approximately sized balls of dough onto the greased cookie. He crossed the kitchen to slide the tray of cookies in the oven, setting the timer for eighteen minutes. “Just don’t come crying to me when you’re doubled over with stomach cramps.”

“Awww,” Stiles pouted, jutting his bottom lip out and batting his eyelashes. “You wouldn’t come take care of me if I got sick? Some boyfriend you are.”

“Of course I would,” Derek answered, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ cheek as he put the mixing bowl in the sink. “Just not if it’s your own fault.”

“Fine,” Stiles conceded, poking Derek in the ribs as he started washing the dishes. He grabbed the wooden spoon out of the mixing bowl before Derek could spray it with water. “But I still get to lick the spoon.”

*        *        *        *        *        *        *

Derek thought for a long while about just how he could make it up to Stiles, but he wasn’t good with words. They always got jumbled in his mouth, always stuck to his tongue, always caught in his throat when he tried to speak.

So he decided to use someone else’s words.

He found Stiles in the bedroom, standing in the middle of the room as he scrolled through something on his phone. Derek sidled up behind him, slipping his arms around his waist and holding him tight.

Stiles huffed a small, startled laugh. “Derek, what are you―”

Wise men say / Only fools rush in, ” Derek began shakily, voice gravelly and rough. “ But I can’t help falling in love with you.

“Derek…”

Shall I stay? / Would it be a sin / If I can’t help falling in love with you? ” He gently rocked them side to side, noting the pink flush spreading over Stiles’ cheeks and the back of his neck.

Like a river flows / Surely to the sea / Darling, so it goes / Some things are meant to be. ” Derek leaned closer, brushing his stubbled cheek over the side of Stiles’ neck, growing infinitely more confident, letting his eyelids drift closed.

Take my hand, / Take my whole life, too / For I can’t help falling in love with you. ” He opened his eyes, picking up one of Stiles’ hands and intertwining their fingers, raising their joined hands to press a fleeting kiss to the back of Stiles’ hand. “ Like a river flows / Surely to the sea / Darling, so it goes / Some things are meant to be / Take my hand, / Take my whole life, too / For I can’t help falling in love with you…

Squeezing his arms tighter around Stiles, Derek nestled his face in the thick fabric of Stiles’ flannel. He breathed in deeply, basking in the comforting scent of Stiles . Softly, he confessed, “I know I’m not very good with words but I wanted to let you know how much you mean to me.”

A small sniffle from Stiles had him jerking his head back, moving his hands to Stiles’ hips, silently encouraging him to turn around. When he did, laying his hands on Derek’s chest, his eyes were teary but his smile was radiant.

“Oh, Derek,” Stiles whispered, his voice so very fond it made Derek’s chest ache again, this time from pure unadulterated happiness, feeling as though his heart was about to burst.

He cupped Stiles’ cheeks in his hands, wiping away his tears with his thumbs, as he pressed their foreheads together, smiling widely.

“I love you,” Derek murmured, brushing his thumbs over Stiles’ cheeks, near tears himself.

Sniffling again, Stiles laughed, “I love you too, you big sap.”

Derek huffed out a deep laugh before bringing their mouths together in a slow, sweet embrace, pouring everything he felt for Stiles that he couldn’t articulate with mere words into the kiss.

Who needed words when he had Stiles, anyway?

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