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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of This Might Help
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Published:
2013-06-07
Words:
724
Chapters:
1/1
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4
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108
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10
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Tattoo Coda

Summary:

The few minutes between Scott passing out and waking up.

Notes:

Written for the Fix It/This Might Help Challenge. Not exactly "fluffy" but it helped me =P

All mistake are my own; any comments or criticisms are welcome :)

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

Work Text:

“Hold him still, Stiles,” Derek hissed. He pulled Scott’s arm out at an awkward angle, fire burning along the curve, and braced his knees on either side of Scott’s. He focused on the tattoo and Stiles watched the sweat gather then slide over his neck.

“I’m trying, Derek,” Stiles snapped, “It’s kind of hard to hold up a werewolf that weights literally three times what I do.” But he wrapped one arm around Scott’s chest, fist gathering Scott’s shirt, and braced his other arm around Scott’s shoulder

“Well, try harder.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and tightened grip when Derek lifted Scott’s arm, when Derek angled the blowtorch underneath Scott’s arm. He was thorough, steady, and eyes trained on the double lines.

“I’ve missed this,” Stiles said, he grinned when Derek flicked a glance at him then turned back to Scott. Like, literally turned his chair away from Stiles and faced Scott. “Pain, danger, burning flesh. Good times.”

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek muttered, and Stiles bit the side of his cheek to stop the smile from showing because, damnit, he had missed this. Derek stretched Scott’s arm up, examined the lines, twisted and turned then rested Scott’s arm over the chair. “It needs to set.”

Gingerly, Stiles let go but kept his hands on Scott’s torso. “So. Fire, huh? Not ink?,” he stepped back, “No special wolfsbane infused ink that hurts like a bitch but worth the agony? Just. Fire?”

Derek rolled his head, stretched the kinks, then walked over to Isaac and checked his pulse and fever. “He already had the ink on his skin, the fire just removes a layer.” He walked back to Scott and turned his arm so that his wrist faced upwards. “It’ll fade but, unless he actively concentrates on repairing the scar tissue, it’ll take years.”

Stiles nodded and couldn’t help but think of Derek’s back. “So your tattoo...”

Derek looked up, quirked an eyebrow and smiled, “It won’t heal anytime soon.”

“Yeah,” Stiles circled his hands and smirked, “No. I mean, of course not. Big bad alpha.”

Derek sucked in a breath and stepped around Scott, stepped forward when Stiles stepped back. “Unlike Scott, I have control over my body.”

Stiles swallowed and glanced down Derek’s body, then back up. “Yeah?”

He stepped back against the wall, felt the wood strain against him. And Derek took another step forward, set his leg between Stiles’s, “Yeah.”

Stiles took a breath, his palms began to sweat and he fought the urge to wipe them on his jeans. His pulse pounded in his ears and he licked his lips, he watched Derek track the motion. “And, you gonna teach Scott that control? Teach Isaac?”

“You really talk about Scott and Isaac right now?” Derek leaned closer until Stiles wasn’t sure if the heat was from Derek or how own flush, he wasn’t sure if Derek was just fucking with him or...not.

“Not,” he swallowed and he purposely kept his eyes on Derek's, not dipping lower, “Not particularly.”

“Good.” Derek braced one hand next to Stiles’s head and the other he slid over Stiles’s hip, his thumb circling over the smooth skin there. And Stiles held himself still, but God he wanted to lean into the touch.

“You know, it’s gonna bruise,” Stiles whispered. Derek’s eyes looked down to Stiles’s chest then back up and he smiled, teeth showing and eyes dark.

“Yeah?” Derek leaned in, his lips brushing Stiles’s ear. “And what--”

Scott groaned, flexed his arm and knocked the chair to the side. Derek froze and Stiles let his head fall against the wall, left it there as he stared at the clouds about the house. “Crap.”

“Yeah,” Derek breathed.

When Stiles looked back down Derek was unfolding a white henley and walking back, his eyes on Stiles. He threw the shirt at Stiles and nodded his head towards Scott; Stiles nodded, straightened and wiped the dust from his jeans. He walked up behind Scott, held onto the back of the chair and tried to steady his nerves and his heartbeat, then walked to the side. He dropped the shirt on the table as he passed. He needed space and needed some air. Seriously needed to get out of here.

Scott woke with a gasp and immediately looked down. He smiled and looked over Stiles, then Derek, “It worked!”

Notes:

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