Chapter Text
Tremble
It's funny, Stiles thinks, or at least, it would be, if it was anyone but him. It's funny, because it makes you want to cry. It's funny like blood is funny. It's funny like death is funny. But most of all, it's funny like love is funny. And true love is very very funny.
It's funny, because he loves Derek like he loves...nothing. There's nothing to compare that too. Unless there's something in his life that makes him tremble with both love and fear that he has some how managed to forget. It's possible, considering how hard, how frantic, his heartbeat is right now.
And it should be. He's near his natural predator, after all.
Stiles finds the red off Derek's eyes fascinating. Fascinating in the fact that he loves them and hates them. They stir up lust in his loins like no other, but the fear that shivers down his spine at the same sight of them is punishment enough.
His father has told him a thousand times. The death of his mother has made sure it echoes in his ears like an ever-present drum.
Wolves are danger. Wolves are death.
He know it. He's heard it in his bedtime stories, of Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. He's heard it in family reunions, of Uncle Mortimer and that Hitchhiker he picked up in the woods.
As weredeer, there's not much in their natural environment that they can't outrun. As Stilinskis, there's not much they can't out-think. Except maybe love.
Because it's love that binds his feet and slows the cogs of his mind. It's love that makes him stand, trembling in bushes, his eyes wide and terrified. It's love that makes him stand so very very still as Derek wraps him in muscled arms tipped in razor sharp claws.
It's love that makes the drops of blood that fall on the leaves underfoot worth it all.
It would be funny, Stiles thinks, if this wasn't me.