Chapter Text
He opened the door and closed it softly, switching on the light and squinting at the glare. He felt so tired and weak, making him lean on the wall and slide down to the floor. The small, black bag was crushed by his heavy hand, emitting a crinkling noise in the silence of the area. The sound made him snap out of his daze, shaking his head a bit before he picked up the bag and laid it out on his lap. Opening it, he shuffled through its contents until his fingertips brushed against something cool and metallic. Instantly, he picked up the two cutter blades and held it to his eyes for inspection.
His next steps felt like clockwork: grabbing some tissue and soaking it with some alcohol, cleaning the blades until they smelled like isopropyl and metal, setting aside a pack of dressing and medical tape. He laid down his blades on two tissue squares before he pulled off his shirt and leaned back once again. The cold, bathroom tiles made contact with his warm skin, and it made him shiver a bit.
One blade was picked up, and he held out his right arm. His eyes inspected his limb, locating a perfect patch of white, unmarked skin on his upper arm, just beside a small mole. His left hand held the cold blade against the skin, brushing against it softly as he got used to the feel of it. He wiped his mind blank as he angled his hand, piercing through the flesh and drawing a clear line. The blade was transferred, and fingers pinched around the cut, drawing a tiny line of blood.
Something ignited deep within his mind, making him draw another line, and another, and another; each deeper than the previous one. He stopped after a while and counted seven straight lines, pale red in color. He flexed his arm, and stretched it afterwards. The action allowed the wounds to open more, making rivulets of blood to form over each cut. He held his nose to deeply sniff at his work, taking in the strong scent of iron. A tongue darted out to taste, before he gently sucked on the wounds and rolled the blood in his mouth. His head leaned back, watching the ceiling idly and relishing the feel.
He never heard the creak from the door, or felt the presence inches away from his. However, he noticed the shift in shadows around him but before he could turn his head, a hand landed on his shoulder and allowed his mind to reel itself back to reality. His neck was nuzzled and he recognized the familiar tip from a nose.
“So, this is what I’ve been smelling” the words were quite distant, but the deep rumble was unmistakable.
He suddenly felt lips brushing against his wounded arm, until they smeared on the cuts and immediately sucked on the remaining blood. This made him arch his back, eyes rolling and closing involuntarily. He gasped then breathed out, before a mouth was pressed against his own and his brain registered the action.
Incidentally, he relaxed against the kiss and reciprocated seconds later. He was surprised that he even managed to move, as he felt extremely tired all of a sudden. A strong tongue prodded inside his mouth, bringing in the taste of iron that he sampled earlier. The hand on his shoulder moved to his neck, then started to trail over his collarbone and chest. It rubbed along the entire expanse of skin until it settled right over his fluttering heart. The sensation made his moan softly, a throaty sound that escaped his lips when his captor pulled away.
“Let me…let me take care of you Stiles. I’m just here. Anything you need, just…”
“Derek…” he whispered out. He cracked his eyes open and was met with the intense gaze of his boyfriend. “What are you—?”
“Here. Lean forward a bit, will ya?” he heard the other say, brushing off his inquiry. He numbly obeyed, pushing off from the wall and resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder. There was movement before he was pushed back and felt a warm material against his back. Derek’s jacket his mind supplied helpfully. The other man sat cross-legged across him then reached for the alcohol and some tissue lying beside the black bag. He watched as the werewolf squeezed some alcohol on the tissue then peered at him “let’s clean you up, hmm?” he murmured, before he pressed the wet tissue against the open cuts.
Stiles winced slightly, but his mind was still numbed out and didn’t really process the pain. Slow, sweeping movements were done to clean up the blood, until the cuts stopped bleeding and there was no dried blood left around the edges. He tossed the tissues in the bin before reaching for the dressing and tape.
Quick work was done, as Derek covered the wounds effectively then proceeded to fix up the mess around them. Stiles moved his head lazily and saw the patch of dressing on his arm held down by some tape. “Wow, that’s nice…” he felt himself smirk at the handiwork.
“Is it? Well, c’mon. Bed” Derek said, standing up then reaching down to grab the teen’s hands. Shaking them a bit, he decided against it and pulled Stiles up by his armpits instead. Stiles managed to stand upright, but felt his body sag forward against the other man.
“Okay, try to walk please” he heard the other say, as he was being pushed out of the bathroom. Both found their way to the bed, and Stiles immediately collapsed on it, rolling around and curling himself to a ball.
Lights were switched off, and just when Stiles was about to reach down to pull his blanket over his body, warmth pressed against his back and a blanket was thrown over him. Arms wrapped around his waist as he was slowly spooned from behind. He felt hot breath just beneath his ear and words were spoken softly “Get some rest. Recover. Please” there was an underlying tone of desperation, but he could be imagining it.
Stiles closed his eyes and let silent tears fall down. “I’m sorry”
There was a sigh behind him “You relapsed. I’ve heard that it happens. Just, try sleeping it off for now”
“I—in the morning, I’ll tell you” he felt himself say
“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to”
“But I want to,” Stiles rolled on his other side to face the werewolf “if you…if it’s okay with you”
There was a short moment of silence, before Derek replied “In the morning then. Rest now, okay?”He moved closer to kiss Stiles’ forehead gently
“mmm” Stiles rubbed his cheek against the pillow and closed his eyes. He felt his inner demons recede and more of his usual self bubble back up to the surface. “Thank you”
“Anytime, for you”