Wrong Until You Make It Right

By mildly_obsessed

Romance / Humor

Chapter 5

Stiles’ heart stopped. Just fucking stopped beating, and he couldn’t breathe for a long, long minute.

And then all at once, his system kicked back online.

“Oh my god, you know who I am?! You really know me? How? Is this real, am I dreaming? Holy god, I need witnesses, I need other people to come in here and tell me this is actually happening, I can’t deal with it if this is just my brain messing with me, because I was saying goodbye, I was moving on, holy shit, what if i actually am schizophrenic and you’re still in a coma and this is a figment of my disease? What do I do then? Should I talk to you? What should-”

“Stiles!” Derek shouted weakly, looking disoriented as he tried to sit up. “Breathe for a second. Calm down, and get me some water.”

Stiles nodded stupidly, and Derek flopped backward again. Still wide-eyed with a pounding heart, he filled a cup of water in the bathroom to bring back to Derek. He paused in the doorway though, hysterically wondering if he’d walk back in the room and Derek would just be lying there again, dead to the world.

But when he opened the door, Derek was up, though maybe not totally on top of the whole alertness thing.

“I should get a nurse,” Stiles blurted, as soon as he handed Derek the cup. “You’ve been out for weeks.”

“I’m in a hospital?” Derek asked, after taking a few sips of the water.

“Derek, you’ve been in a coma for a long time,” Stiles said, eyes running all over Derek’s face like he might never see him again.

Derek frowned. “But I was dead,” he said, and then surprise and confusion started a pretty epic battle on his face. “And you… you were just… gone. You were gone, after everything, you just weren’t there, and I-”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here now. Or, I think I am, but I don’t know if you are and-” Stiles shook his head. “Look, we need to talk about this another time. Just don’t think about it for now, okay?”

“Are you kidding me?” Derek said with a groan. “You were gone for weeks, and now you’re telling me to shut up-”

“That’s not what I mean! But I think both of us are kind of confused, dude, and I’ve literally been struggling with this since I woke up, thinking you weren’t real and that I made everything up and-”

“So you’re just going to shove aside how I feel-”

“That’s not what I’m doing, I’m just really fucking lost, okay, and I’m freaking ecstatic, because I missed your face, even your pissed face that you’re wearing right now, but I can’t keep my head straight anymore and I don’t know if this is actually real life right now, so if we can just put this conversation on hold at least until I can get a nurse in here, I’d really appreciate it!” Stiles all but shouted, bowling over anything else Derek had to say.

It was quiet for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, before Derek gave a jerky nod. “I’m still pissed,” he said, frowning, but his eyebrows relaxed a little, and he looked relieved. “But… I’m also really fucking happy.”

Stiles laughed a little, couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Me too,” he said, and then paused before deciding he might as well give Derek the run-down real quick. “And just... as an update: in a nutshell, we weren’t actually dead. Apparently we were just knocked unconscious for a while.”

Derek blinked. “What?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, then bit his lip. “And, look, as happy as we’ve established that I am to see you, I’m gonna go ahead and say this: I know I sound like a crazy person here, but this might not actually be really happening. Like, I could just be making this up right now to torture myself with later. So… I’m gonna go get a nurse, see if you’re really awake and here or if I’ve just totally lost it.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “You lost it a long time ago, but you probably should go get someone.”

Stiles couldn’t help smiling, even though he was kind of nervous about the state of his sanity.

“I’ll be back.”

Derek grabbed his arm, and was probably trying to come off as serious-funny, but really just looked kind of desperate. “You better.”

Stiles felt his heart break, but tried for a reassuring smile before scurrying out the door, flailing a little as he turned to run for the nurses’ station. His mind was whirling, but right now he could use a little confirmation and stability.

“Hiiiii, hi, yes, hello!” Stiles half-shouted at the poor man behind the counter. “Look, I think my friend just woke up, the coma patient in 8014? Could you send like three or four memorable people whose names I can get to come check on him?” And realizing that sounded a little desperate and possibly insane, added, “He’s in bad shape and I think he could use the extra help.”

To his credit, the nurse only looked a little surprised. “I’ll page the patient’s nurse, and come with you in the meantime.” The man - Gabriel, his name tag read, which, nice, a nurse named after an angel - muttered something that Stiles paid zero attention to into a device and then followed Stiles to Derek’s room.

Stiles stopped outside the door. “Is it okay if I come in, too?”

“For now,” Gabriel said. “But it’s also important to run some tests and let him get some rest.” And with that, he went in. Stiles hesitated, but then heard him say, “Hello, I’m Gabriel. Your assigned nurse is on her way, but for now, I’d like to take your vitals, ask you some questions. What’s your name?”

Stiles walked in.

“Derek. Derek Hale.”

“Okay, good. Date of birth?”

And it went on, asking the same questions they’d asked Stiles when he’d woken up.

A second nurse came in just as Gabriel was finishing up noting Derek’s vitals.

“I’m Nevaeh,” she said, extending a hand to Derek. “I’ll be taking care of you from here, but first, I’ll need Gabriel to update me. Excuse us for a moment.” She took Gabriel aside, leaving Stiles and Derek alone.

Stiles realized he was gaping at Derek when he got the “what.” eyebrows.

“Um,” Stiles started. “So. Uh. This is real. You’re actually awake.”

Derek nodded. “Seems like it.”

Stiles looked down, scuffed his shoe on the ground like a kid. “So I think we can have that talk, soon.”

“We can.”

“And I feel like maybe I should apologize.”

“You should.”

Stiles snapped his head up at him. “Can you please talk in sentences that are longer than three words, you’re driving me nuts!”

“Now you know how I feel 90% of the time,” Derek said, smiling for the first time. “We’re definitely talking about all this, but doctors first.”

Stiles deflated. “Yeah, I guess.”

At that point, Nevaeh was back.

“I’m going to go over a few things with you, and then I’ll answer any questions,” she glanced over at Stiles. “Is he family?”

Derek looked over at him, seemed to be hesitating.

“No, but it’s fine.”

Stiles shook his head. “Actually, I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.”

Once he was outside the room, he took out his phone and debated who to call. Or if he should call anyone. Or if he should get someone to slap him.

He decided to call Dr. Hirt. It was lunch hour for her, but maybe she’d answer. If not, he’d leave a message.

It ended up going to voicemail.

“Hi, Dr. Hirt, it’s Stiles. Um, something really weird happened, and it’s… Not a dream, at least, I don’t think it is. Three other people confirmed it, if you don’t count the person it’s about, and why am I being cryptic? Jesus.” He paused, started again. “Derek woke up, and some nurses and his doctor can confirm the same thing, and he knew who I was. I can probably get some other proof, maybe take a video? I don’t know, I don’t think I’m crazy, but I need other people to see, too. So, just, call me back when you can. Thanks.”

He didn’t quite want to go back to Derek’s room yet, so he went down the hall to the vending machine and got a drink. He sipped at it outside Derek’s door until Nurse Nevaeh and a doctor came back out. Nevaeh stopped when she saw him, and smiled gently.

“He’s going to be fine,” she said. “We’re monitoring him for a while, and he’s very physically weak. But if I remember correctly, you were here yourself not too long ago, so you know the drill,” she said, and Stiles smiled back and nodded.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“You can go in and see him now, if you’d like, but he does need rest, so try to avoid anything that might be hard for him to talk about.”

Yeah, right.

“Will do,” Stiles lied.

She gave a last smile and then walked away.

Stiles steeled himself and went in.

“Hey,” Derek said.

“Hi again,” Stiles replied, and he couldn’t help it, he just felt this stupid grin take over his face. He sat down. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I could say the same,” Derek said, half-smiling, but Stiles could see that maybe he was feeling a little unhinged, too. Stiles waited for him to keep going, bracing himself for whatever Derek had to say. “I’m not angry anymore.”

“Oh, thank god,” Stiles said, sagging down into the chair.

“I was shocked, I guess. Waking up with you right there,” he said, reached a hand out to Stiles, who took it. It was quiet for a little longer, until Derek continued, “It doesn’t seem like it could happen, but how else would we know each other?”

He didn’t have to say it directly for Stiles to know what he was talking about.

“I don’t know. But when you didn’t wake up, all I could think was that I’d made up the whole damn thing, you know? And my therapist was thinking the same thing - that, or, like, schizophrenia. And, to be real, I’m not so sure this is still even happening.”

“Even with all the other people around bugging me?” Derek said grumpily.

Stiles huffed a laugh. “Yeah, grumpypants.”

“You can’t blame me,” Derek mumbled. “I’m fucking exhausted. In every way possible.”

“I know, I felt the same way when I remembered everything, the first time I saw you here in the hospital.”

Derek eyed him. “How much do you remember?”

“I’d say ‘everything,’ but I’m not sure what that’d mean to you. But! I do have this long typed up thing that I did with pretty much everything I remember in it. It’s not quite done yet, but it’s pretty much your whole history plus how we… Uh. Y’know. Got together.” Stiles was blushing. Derek just smirked. Asshole.

“You mean how we fell in love?”

Urgh. “Yeah. That.”

Derek smiled a little. “Good. I’d like to read it.”

“Uh, sure. It’s… A little embarrassing though,” Stiles said, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m sure half of it’s about my eyebrows,” Derek said, and Stiles smiled.

“More like 75%.”

Derek rolled his eyes, then looked kind of serious-thoughtful.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this. It’s kind of unreal. On one hand, I’m so fucking happy to see you. But... I can’t help but wonder if I’m crazy.”

“Tell me about it,” Stiles muttered, flopping back into the chair again. “You have no idea how crazy this has been making me,” he said, then blew out a long breath and sat back up, elbows on his knees. He looked up at Derek. “The whole reason I was here today was… to say goodbye.”

It was quiet for a long time.

“Come here,” Derek said, and Stiles did, a little confused, until Derek pulled him in and kissed him gently.

Stiles melted into goop, just like Derek-kisses always made him do, even though this was just a chaste little thing, nothing like some of the mind-blowing ones they’d had in the past.

But this was life-affirming, this was world-changing, this was more than any of those, because they were alive, real, and they had each other.

Derek pulled away when Stiles tried to deepen it, pushing him back a little before saying, “My breath is bad.” He put a hand over Stiles’ mouth when he opened it to protest. “You said you woke up like this, too. Remember how that was?”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “You win this one, Hale.”

Derek smirked. “I always do.”

“No, you don’t,” Stiles said, smiling gently.

Derek smiled back. “No, I really don’t.”

They stared at each other like a couple of hopeless romantics, until a thought burst in Stiles’ head.

“Hey, is Laura on the way?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, blinking out of his lovey-dovey reverie (that was Stiles’ story, and he was sticking to it). “They said they called her.”

“Are you gonna tell her?” Stiles asked, suddenly feeling a little insecure, and again getting the feeling that maybe they were both nuts.

“I was planning on it,” Derek said, shrugging. “She’ll understand. She’s always had a thing for the supernatural. If anything, expect to be bombarded with questions.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, stupidly. “Um, that’s good. I, uh, told my friends about you, too. And my therapist, like I said. They… didn’t exactly believe it was real.” Stiles laughed a little. “It’s gonna be weird when you guys meet. Like, really weird.”

“Well, at least now they’ll believe you.”

“I hope so,” Stiles said, then remembered, “Hey, think I could get a video with you? To send to people, make sure I haven't gone off the deep end?”

Derek nodded, even though he looked like he wanted to say something sarcastic. “Probably a good idea.”

He scooted over a little, and Stiles sat carefully next to him on the bed. He started up the camera on his phone.

“Hi there,” he said, waving. “I’m Stiles, and this is Derek.” He turned the camera to get Derek in the shot. “Say hello, your name, and how we met.”

Derek gave him a little of the hairy eyeball. “Do I really have to go into that?”

Stiles smiled at the camera. “This is my sanity-check, baby, so yes.”

“Fine,” Derek sighed. “My name is Derek Hale, and Stiles and I met in a beach house where we both thought we were dead.”

“And there you have it, folks, short and sweet. Please let me know if all you see in this video is me talking to air like an idiot.”

And he clicked the camera off. They watched the replay together, and then Stiles sent a group text to Scott and Lydia. His heart was beating a little fast, but he was relatively calm in the face of madness, so whatever.

Stiles: I’m gonna send you guys something, and I need you to tell me if I’m crazy.

Attached: 1 video

“And, sent. I guess we’ll find out soon if this is some kind of weirdo dream or I’ve got more mental health issues than previously thought,” Stiles said, and Derek cuffed him on the back of the head.

“It’ll be fine.”

And it was. Lydia called first, almost immediately followed by Scott, so Stiles merged the lines and got them both on the phone at once.

He got:

“Holy shit, is this for real?” Scott.

“You’re at the hospital?” Lydia.

“Wait, this isn’t some random guy on the street you paid or something, is it?”

“Scott, don’t be ridiculous, he’s obviously in a hospital!”

“Maybe he’s in the psych ward?”

“Not with that I.V. and all the monitors! And he’s so thin!”

“So, what, you think that’s really Derek?”

“I don’t know, that seems ridiculous, how could this possibly-”

“Uh, guys?” Stiles tried.

“But what if it is real and we’ve just been saying Stiles is Coco Puffs for no-”

“Hello? Guys?” Stiles tried again.

“But how could that be? It’s not possible - but then again, it also wasn’t possible for Stiles to dream it, and it would have been equally insane for his memories to-”

“Guys! I love you, but shut up!” Stiles all but shouted. “Look, Derek’s right here, and we can answer your questions and then I’ll prove he’s really Derek when his sister gets here, okay?”

Scott and Lydia were silent, before Lydia started with, “Okay, okay. Do you need us to come there?”

“Yeah, is there anything we need to do?” Scott asked.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’ll be home soon, anyway, and I have to email that video to Dr. Hirt. But listen, Derek’s kind of weak right now, so if you guys could tone it down when you talk to him?”

“Sure,” Scott said.

“Of course,” Lydia replied.

Stiles handed the phone over to Derek, who kind of glared at him. Derek covered the mouthpiece and said, quietly, “I’m getting you back, later, for all this interrogation.”

“Shut up, you big baby,” Stiles said, pinching him a little. “It won’t be that bad.”

It was that bad.

Apparently Lydia and Scott couldn’t hold back as much as they thought they could, and Derek ended up talking about roughly 65% of his and Stiles’ story, along with his own, painful - did Stiles mention painful? - family history. It was all done in Derek’s choppy sentences and grumpy tone, and even though sometimes his face and voice went blank when he talked about the harder stuff, he did still laugh once or twice at whatever Lydia and Scott were saying.

The call ended when the food cart finally came around, Stiles begging them off so Derek could eat. He stayed on the phone with them until Derek was done, answering questions and trying to talk through everything with them. He ended up promising to give them copies of The History of Stiles and Derek when it was done.

Urgh.

Derek looked about 100x better after he ate, and when Stiles finally hung up, things got a little serious. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if things would still be the same with them, if Derek would still want him now that they were actual real live people again. Insecurity wasn’t something that Stiles ever really handled well, and when it came to Derek, the thought of losing him to rejection just made his whole body want to shrivel up into dust and be blown away by the wind. Jesus.

Derek sighed when Stiles didn’t say anything. “What?”

“I wanted to ask you…” Stiles said, trailing off as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you - do you still want-” he stuttered to a halt.

Derek’s hand reached out and touched his shoulder.

“You’re an idiot.”

Though it was typical Derek, Stiles still bristled a little. “I’m trying to be serious here, the least you could do is give me a serious fucking answer before I explode into itty bitty pieces!”

Derek just squeezed his shoulder. “Okay, I’m sorry. But you are an idiot, most of the time, but especially if you think I’m gonna let you go.”

Stiles relaxed, turned to Derek.

“Good, because I really think I might have flung myself out the window if you told me to get out,” he joked.

“Don’t ever joke about that,” Derek snapped, giving him a hard look. It took Stiles by surprise.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I won’t, jeeze,” Stiles said, but grabbed Derek’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“It was fucking horrible,” Derek started, and Stiles watched him closely as he continued, “You were there one second, and when I turned around, you were gone. I was... alone, again.”

Stiles couldn’t help it, he crawled up onto the bed and settled himself into Derek’s side. He made gentle circles on Derek’s chest, and hated how he could feel his sternum, how fragile Derek was. Just like Stiles had been.

“I just about drove myself crazy looking for ways to find you, to get out of that house somehow. And then you were there, you were visiting, but I couldn’t do anything. All I could do was watch you. It was so fucking awful to see you cry like that, and not be able to do a damn thing about it.

“And then, just as I was giving up, you came upstairs to our room. You sat down next to me, and then you were lying with me, so fucking close, looking like-” Derek broke off. “I knew I couldn’t stop trying to get to you.”

“I almost didn’t go up,” Stiles said, quiet. “I almost just left. But I knew I’d regret it if I never went there, if I never let myself deal with those memories. And, hearing that, I’m so unbelievably glad I did.”

Derek’s hand reached up to brush against Stiles’ hair. “I watched you leave, and then I went to the garden and sat with Mom’s flowers. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was here. And you were here. It was like waking up from a nightmare,” he said, whispering by the end.

Stiles sat up a little, kissed under Derek’s jaw.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Stiles said as he pulled back. He looked Derek in the eyes. “If you’re in this, I’m in this. I’m not going anywhere if I can help it. You’re stuck with me, forever. And even if something does happen-”

“You’ll always find me.”

Stiles smiled, nodded. “Always.”

Derek slid his hand to cup Stiles’ cheek, and pulled him in for another kiss. He was still refusing to open his mouth, apparently, but Stiles was still blown away by the gentle press and movement of their lips, still fell to pieces in Derek’s hands. He didn’t give a shit that they were being stupidly romantic, or that his arm was kind of angled funky under him, or that Derek was maybe crying a little through their kiss, because it was perfect. It was perfect because it was him and Derek, when he thought it might never be this way ever again.

When they pulled apart, he saw that Derek’s eyes were bright and a little wet, and went to gently swipe underneath them to catch the tears that might fall - but because he was him, he kind of maybe smacked Derek in the face when he yanked his arm out from under himself, and that was the end of that moment, yes sirree.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry dude, are you okay?” Stiles said, a little frantic, a lot embarrassed, but kind of laughing. Derek rubbed at his jaw at shot him a death-glare, but then gave a resigned sigh.

“I guess it wouldn’t be you if it were any other way.”

Stiles laughed for real then. “You know you love it.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Stiles hummed, then maneuvered himself with a little more grace to lie back down next to Derek. He ran the tips of his fingers back and forth across Derek’s collar bones, hating how prominent they were. His own collar bones were only just starting to sink back into his body as he slowly built muscle-mass. Stiles practically purred when Derek started gently running his fingers through his hair again.

They’d gotten good at comfortable silence a long time ago, and Stiles was so happy, warm, and safe, that he felt like he might fall asleep right there in Derek’s tiny hospital bed.

But he couldn’t, didn’t want to. Part of it was that he just wanted to be with Derek, to feel him right there, real as anything, but the other part of it was that he was afraid he’d wake up and it would all have just been a dream or something fucked up like that. So he stayed, hovering on the edge of sleep and awareness, until the door slammed open and someone burst into the room like a whirlwind.

Naturally, Stiles tumbled off the side of the bed and right onto his fucking face, goddamn it.

“Derek!”

Stiles looked through watery eyes, prodding at his nose, to see Laura rushing to Derek’s side. Derek, who reached out for her and let her fall into his arms, where she started to shake like she was crying.

“Shhh, Laura, it’s okay, I’m okay,” he mumbled into her hair, and Stiles caught his eye to motion that he was gonna leave, give them some privacy. Derek nodded, and Stiles quietly made an escape.

He wasn’t really sure where to go, but he didn’t want to go far, so he ended up wandering down to where the vending machines were and buying a snack and two bottles of water. Without anything else to do, he went back to the room and leaned against the wall a ways away, not wanting to accidentally eaves drop.

He decided to text Scott and Lydia, update them on the situation.

Sent: So his sister’s here now. It’s kind of emotional in there though, so I’m not gonna say anything just yet.

Lyds: Of course it is.

Lyds: Don’t go in until she comes out.

Sent: Wasn’t planning on it.

Scott: Omg Stiles!

Scott: Is Derek gonna tell her??

Sent: He said he would, but that’s probably not the first thing he’s gonna talk about.

Lyds: Are you sure you don’t need one of us to come? She might not take kindly to your and Derek’s unique story.

Sent: What do you mean?

Lyds: Well, her mentally fragile brother did just wake up from a coma. It might look like you’re trying to manipulate him.

Scott: Wow dude, way to be a downer.

Scott: She does kinda have a point tho.

Stiles paused for a minute, bit his lip.

Sent: Yeah, I didn’t really think about that. Derek just said she’d understand. Something about her interest in the supernatural.

Scott: I feel like that would only get you so far tho. You gotta admit ur story is still a little weird.

Lyds: I agree with Scott. But all we can do right now is wait and see.

Sent: I’ll keep you updated, and let you know if I need somebody to come get me or whatever. I think I’m good for now though, unless she comes out punching or something.

Scott: Okay. Be careful.

Lyds: Take care of yourself.

Sent: Will do.

Stiles put his phone away, waited about .3 seconds, then took it back out to distract himself with a stupid game, because otherwise his thoughts were just gonna straight up run away with him, and probably not in a good direction, either.

Ten or so minutes passed, and then Laura walked out the door.

“Are you Stiles?” she asked, and Stiles swallowed, nodded. “You’re the one who called about the house.”

“Yeah… I, uh. I talked to you on the phone about two weeks ago.”

She looked at him, skepticism all over her face. “Derek says he knows you.”

“Yeah. Did he… Did he tell you how?”

“He said you haunted our beach house together for a few weeks,” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “He also said you could tell me a story about something that happened while you two were there. Something about me?”

Stiles stood there stupidly for a second, before it clicked.

“The camera!” he shouted, then cleared his voice and took it down a notch. “You were there taking pictures, and your tripod got knocked over with the camera on it. You got pretty upset… And so did Derek. That was when he and I decided to stop being assholes to each other, and he told me about the, um… the fire, and all the other stuff.”

Laura pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This is completely off the wall,” she said. “But for some reason, I’m gonna believe you, if only because you make him happy.”

Stiles smiled. “I do?”

Laura rolled her eyes. Apparently that ran in the family.

“He’s got hearts in his eyes, it’s gross,” she paused for a moment. “But I haven’t seen him that together in a long time. He’s peaceful.”

“He’s helped me a lot, too. I think we’re good together.”

Laura sighed, looked him up and down, and then fixed him with a hard stare.

“You need to understand just one thing about this situation: I will not tolerate him being hurt or strung along. He’s still my little brother, and I’m not above physically kicking some ass for him.”

Stiles blinked, but then laughed a little, which trailed off as Laura raised her eyebrows at him. He coughed awkwardly.

“Uh, well, you really, really don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to be around until he tells me to go.”

“Good,” she said, and then jerked her head to the door. “Let’s go back in. He’s looking pretty tired though, so we’ll probably need to go soon. Are you heading back home today?”

“I was, but that was before he woke up. I don’t think I could stand going home now.”

“There’re a few hotels around here, but they’re expensive. You can head back to the house if you want; there aren’t any reservations for another week.”

Stiles smiled at her as she opened the door. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

She gave him a small smile in return. “No problem.”


Stiles and Laura had stayed until Derek’s nurse kicked them out, and he was already fast asleep anyway, so they left without too much of a fuss.

Stiles had planned on staying until Laura absolutely had to kick him out, but on the way back from the hospital to the beach house, he remembered his appointment with Dr. Hirt. And then his phone started ringing, which, surprise surprise, was Dr. Hirt herself.

“Hello?”

“Stiles,” she greeted. “I got your voicemail and the email with the video you sent me. And I have to say I’m surprised.”

Stiles was confused. “So… what does that mean?”

“I have a few questions for you next time you come in, but I wanted to comment on how happy you looked, and how glad I am for you.”

“You don’t think I’m nuts?” Stiles asked, and Dr. Hirt laughed.

“No, I don’t. I think we’ll have to talk about healthy ways to approach this, but if you and Derek are two consenting adults, then I don’t see why the relationship needs to be put under a microscope. It is what it is.”

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh my god, that makes me feel so much better.”

She hummed down the line. “It looks like you’re booked for an appointment tomorrow. Think you’ll be able to make it?”

“I probably need to,” Stiles said. “To be honest, I really don’t want to leave here yet though. Can we move it to Wednesday? I wanna at least be able to say goodbye and tell him I’ll be back in a few days.” Stiles had Laura and Derek’s numbers now, but he felt like it’d be a dick move to skip town without telling Derek himself.

“I have a 1:00 PM Wednesday. Will that work?”

“Yeah, that works.”

“I’ll see you then.”

Stiles pulled up to the house a minute later, realized all he had was some bread and peanut butter, and decided he seriously did not give a fuck about food at the moment. He was exhausted, anyway, and didn’t really taste the sandwich he made himself before he crawled upstairs and settled into the attic room bed.

As he drifted off to sleep, he had the shitty thought that he’d wake up in the morning and it’d all be a fucking dream, or a made-up memory, or something equally as horrible.

But he hoped with all his tiny little heart that it was real.

When he woke up the next morning to the sound of his text alert, he knew it was.

Grumpy McFrown: This sucks.

Sent: What sucks?

Grumpy McFrown: Physical therapy. Hospital food. Not being able to get to the bathroom without help.

Sent: It’ll get better. Especially since you’ll see my glorious face soon.

Grumpy McFrown: I better.

Sent: Be there asap bb.

Sent: :D <3 <3 <3

Grumpy McFrown: Ugh.

Sent: You love me.

Grumpy McFrown: For some reason.

Sent: Shhh, I’m taking a shower now, quit distracting me.

Derek didn’t send anything else, and they left the conversation at that.

It was the first of many more touching and hilarious and occasionally pissy conversations to come over the weeks through Derek’s (and Stiles’ still, too) recovery, and it best be believed that Stiles saved every single one.


It was the first time Derek was coming back to Stiles’ place in all the weeks that they’d been doing their dating-type-thing, and tomorrow night Derek would meet Scott, Scott’s new friend Isaac, Kira, Lydia, Jackson (ugh), Erica, and Boyd. Just a little dinner party at Lydia’s. No big deal.

Stiles wasn’t the least bit nervous, because Derek was a real charmer, and Scott and Lydia weren’t overprotective, Erica wasn’t scary, Jackson was nice, Isaac was probably sane, and Boyd would be his usual self (at least there’d be some stability there, as long as he wasn’t feeling mischievous enough to fan Erica’s flames) and it’d all just be peaches and pie and no suspicious looks or death threats.

Stiles was optimistic.

“Bienvenido a mi casa,” Stiles said as he swung open the door to his apartment.

“It’s a lot cleaner than I thought,” Derek said, and fucking hell, did have to look so damn surprised?

“What, I’m clean!” Stiles said, crossing his arms. “I’m kind of a disaster of a person, but I keep things nice.”

Derek just raised his eyebrows.

“You don’t know me, you don’t know my life…” Stiles mumbled, and Derek smirked.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Shut up,” Stiles glared, stomping over to his room. “Throw your crap in here and let’s go, I’m starving.”

Stiles squawked like a fucking idiot as he found himself suddenly flailing facedown on his bed, from where Derek had just tackled him down, what the fuck was he doing jesus chri-

“You know, I’m pretty damn hungry myself,” Derek murmured against Stiles’ ear, biting gently at the shell of it.

“Oh my god, we’re not in a harlequin romance novel!” Stiles muttered, but knew he was busted because he’d already started panting and squirming and getting hard.

Derek chuckled. “You love it.”

Stiles groaned, rolled over so he was on his back under Derek.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Derek smirk-grinned and did exactly that.

Oh, god, and it was so good. They hadn’t gotten to do this all that much; they lived four hours away from each other, and Derek had still been pretty weak for those first few weeks, too tired for anything more than quickie handjobs and the occasional blow job when they were feeling really frisky and knew that Laura wouldn’t be home for a while.

It was kind of awkward to do the do with Derek’s sister right in the next room.

But now Derek was stronger, and they were in the same place, and there was no Laura to work around.

They were going to do the do, and Stiles was super fucking pumped about it, seriously.

Stiles spread his legs to let Derek’s hips fit neatly between them, and couldn’t help but grind against him a little, groaning softly and getting harder every second. Derek was planting kisses down his neck, gentle, and then biting, alternating just the way he knew Stiles liked, harsh and then soothing, and it was driving Stiles up the wall.

Stiles wasn’t going to be outdone though, and ran his hands up Derek’s back - he could still feel too many vertebrae, even though Derek was getting a little bulkier every time they saw each other - and then gently scratched his nails from Derek’s shoulder blades down to his ass. He pushed his fingertips under the waistline of Derek’s pants, brushing over the curve of his ass and gripping, pulling Derek into him. Stiles had the fleeting thought that even now, he and Derek fit together so well… God, they were perfect.

This was perfect.

When Stiles ran his hands up Derek’s back again, he kept going, pushing Derek off him a little so that he would get the hint and take his stupid shirt off. Derek pulled back to kneel on the bed, yanking his shirt over his head, then went in to peel Stiles out of his button down and dumb graphic tee that Derek had made fun of earlier.

Jerk.

Derek leaned back down, licked a stripe from Stiles’ belly button to his left nipple, teasing and nipping before heading back up to his neck, leaving bites and hickeys and jesus fucking christ Stiles was going to be a disaster, he wouldn’t be able to go out in public, oh, god, who gave a shit about that, not Stiles, that was for sure.

Stiles turned his head and captured Derek’s lips in a kiss again, one hand going to Derek’s hair while the other raked nails down his back before circling around to tug at one of Derek’s nipples. He grinned triumphantly when Derek’s breath hitched, and wrapped his legs around Derek’s hips, trapping him so he could rut up against him like a horny teenager.

He could feel Derek’s erection through their pants, even, and that just made Stiles harder, knowing that Derek was getting off on their rubbing and kissing and groping, and lord help him, Stiles needed Derek’s pants off as of three weeks ago, this was driving him crazy.

Stiles was struggling with deciding whether to try and keep kissing Derek while they weaseled out of the rest of their clothes, or if he should go straight for the stripping- oh, god, there Derek went with the fucking tongue sucking, jesus christ Stiles was gonna die right there, the answer was yes, yes nudity, yes just get these fucking clothes off-

“Derek,” Stiles said against his lips, pulling back a little. “Derek, Derek, clothes off, take your pants off!”

“Romantic,” Derek grumbled, but pulled back, stepping off the bed to get rid of his pants as fast as possible and then yanking Stiles’ down as soon as Stiles got the fly undone.

And then they were both so naked and it was the best, being naked was definitely the best way they could be, and they should always be that way.

“Get back here,” Stiles said, scooting back on the bed and letting his thighs fall open. It was a little embarrassing, but Derek’s cock jumped and Stiles’ mouth watered, and suddenly it wasn’t embarrassing at all. It was just sexy, and even sexier was the way that Derek crawled up the bed toward Stiles.

Derek went in for a kiss, and it was deep, hot, just fucking right for Stiles, and then he rolled them so that Stiles was on top, straddling Derek’s lap. They’d broken their kiss to change positions, but Stiles dove right back in, like he couldn’t get enough.

And maybe he couldn’t, maybe he never would, because this was Derek, and Stiles couldn’t picture ever not wanting him.

So he kissed Derek like it was the last chance he’d ever have, stroking inside his mouth, nipping his lips, caressing his tongue and stealing Derek’s breath. Stiles tugged on Derek’s hair, let his hands traced down Derek’s neck, over his ears, back into his hair, and Derek let out a moan and kissed Stiles back for all he was worth.

They drank each other down, until Stiles couldn’t take it anymore, because he needed Derek, all of him, in every way he could have him.

“I want-” Stiles started, but broke off with a gasp when Derek nipped at his ear. He tugged Derek’s hair until he pulled back to look at him. “Derek, I want… Do you- I mean, I’ve been thinking-”

“Yes,” Derek answered. “I want it too.”

Stiles kissed him again, a little more gentle, and then leaned away from Derek to his bedside drawer and pulled out lube and condoms.

Mercy, this was really happening.

Thank fuck.

Stiles went back to Derek, leaning in and kissing him again, because fuck, he couldn’t help it, he dared anyone to see Derek Hale looking debauched and ruined like he was right at that moment and not want to lay him out and take him apart.

Derek spread his legs, pulling Stiles to him. Stiles thought he was getting the hint, here, but he wanted to be sure.

“So you want me to…?”

“Stiles,” Derek said. “I want you inside of me.”

Oh, fuck.

Stiles swallowed heavily, nodded, and reached for the lube. He sat back for a moment, admiring the picture of Derek spread in front of him, ready for whatever Stiles wanted, whatever Stiles would give him.

Urgh, Stiles really hoped he wouldn’t come 1.2 seconds into the whole thing.

Stiles shook his head, turning his focus to coating his fingers, then sat back and let Derek move his legs up and apart, opening himself to Stiles. And Stiles maybe wasn’t quite ready for it, because when he looked down he just about lost it, and had to lean up to kiss Derek gently to get control of himself. He kept kissing Derek as he slowly, slowly slid one finger inside, moving it in and out with no real resistance.

Derek’s breathing was ragged, and Stiles pulled back to look at his face, into his eyes, then looked down again, watching his hand as he added a second finger. Stiles was taking his time, trying to calm himself down a little, but he wasn’t sure it was really working, because Derek was hot and soft around his fingers, and Stiles couldn’t help imagining how it would be when he was finally inside, his cock surrounded by Derek’s heat.

Stiles traced his other hand down Derek’s torso, stopping to tease at his nipples, and then finally found Derek’s hard dick. He wrapped a dry hand around the top, tugging the foreskin up and over the dripping head, getting it slick so that he could gently move his palm in circles over it. Derek was shuddering under him, gasping and letting out little moans that made Stiles sweat and shiver, and Stiles needed to speed this up a little.

By the time he had the third finger in, they were both a total mess, writhing and shaky, and it was hot in the room from the way their bodies moved together. Derek was panting, trying to keep his eyes on Stiles, but unable to help throwing his head back every time Stiles stroked over his prostate - which he did as often as he could. But they were reaching breaking point, and Derek apparently got fed up with Stiles, since he took his hand to stop him, and hit him in the face with a condom.

“Wow, mood killer,” Stiles said, laughing a little.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” Derek deadpanned. “Come on, already.”

“Demanding.”

“I’m getting old here.”

“You’re already old,” Stiles said, laughing, and even though Derek was trying for annoyed, he still looked amused.

“Not old. Now fuck me or I’ll roll you over and do it myself.”

Stiles shivered a little, but lined himself up and pushed inside slowly.

“That’s- ah, oh, god- something we’ll definitely- fuuuuck- explore another d-” Stiles was cut off by Derek rolling his hips up and suddenly Stiles was all the way inside, his hips resting up against Derek’s ass, holy, holy, holy fuck.

They both lost their breath for a moment and the world must have stopped then, because when Stiles came back to, he was looking down at Derek, who was barely focused on anything, lying there beautifully all for Stiles. He was so incredible, a sheen of sweat across his forehead and black hair wild, and jesus god, the look in his eyes was almost unbearable. Stiles could see and feel affection and lust and wonder and how turned on Derek was, and he felt it all right back. It was nearly overwhelming, and he had to take a second to kiss Derek senseless and filthy, wet and soft.

He pulled away, brushed Derek’s hair from where it clung a little to his temples, and smiled down at him.

And then Derek rolled his hips again and Stiles absolutely couldn’t wait another second.

He tilted himself back to rest his weight a little more on his knees, and pulled back slowly before thrusting in gently, letting out little moans between hitches in his breath. Derek was suddenly turning very vocal, little whines and groans, and “oh, god’s” on his breath with every push-pull Stiles gave.

The rhythm stayed slow at first, their eyes locked and watching each other’s reactions, the air heavy and hot between them and their bodies in sync like they’d been lovers forever, and Stiles knew that they weren’t fucking - they were seriously, actually, in real life making love. It was sensual and consuming, and Stiles felt like he was flying and free and overwhelmed all at once.

He would not cry during sex. He wouldn’t.

Slow and powerful and loving and straight up more than Stiles could have ever thought sex could be. This was on a whole other level, on some kind of other plane of reality, because he’d never felt so connected to another human being… He felt like he was exactly where he needed to be at this point in time, that something had come together perfectly to get him here, with Derek, in the moment.

But then Derek’s eyes fluttered closed and he stretched his arms up to grab the headboard, and Stiles could feel the change in the atmosphere, could sense how ready Derek was to really get fucked, and Stiles wanted to light up him.

He dropped his head, Derek’s hips rolling up hard to meet him and Stiles answered him right back, increasing his pace and the strength behind his hips and even though they were closer to fucking than they were before, there was still something sweet about it, even through the frantic energy and desperation to get off, to finally come apart for each other.

Stiles reached a hand down, grasping Derek’s hard, wet cock, and tugging just the way he knew Derek liked, a little slow and rough, but then Derek leaned forward and licked a stripe up his neck that had Stiles gasping before sinking his teeth into Stiles’ shoulder like he was trying to leave his mark there for the whole fucking world to see, and Stiles couldn’t - he couldn’t-

“Oh, fuck, Derek, fuck, I’m gonna-!”

Everything went white for a second, and when he opened his eyes it was to Derek underneath him, shaking as he stroked himself off between their bellies where Stiles was pressed against him.

“Oh no you don’t,” Stiles whispered, diving down the bed to take Derek’s dick in his mouth right as he started to come, hot and wet against Stiles’ lips and tongue. Stiles licked gently at Derek’s spent cock, suckling on the head until Derek was shivering and pushing his head away.

Stiles rested his cheek against Derek’s thin thigh, still breathing a little heavily, and waited for himself and Derek to recover a little bit. As soon as he felt like he could move, he pushed himself up over Derek’s body, and leaned in to kiss him, deep and messy.

It was all he could do to roll off to the side and toss the condom in the garbage can next to his bed, but he still managed to maneuver himself so he could cuddle up to Derek.

Who promptly shifted Stiles so that Stiles would be the big spoon.

“Big spoon Stiles time, huh?”

“Yeah, now don’t ruin the afterglow.”

Stiles sighed and started small kisses along the back of Derek’s neck, who shifted to press back up against Stiles gently.

“Hey,” Stiles whispered, and Derek groaned. “Oh, shut up, it’s just one thing. Okay, two. Two things.”

Derek let out a put-upon sigh. “And they are…?”

“One: that was awesome, and two: olive juice.”

Derek went still. “Olive juice?”

“Olive juice,” Stiles grinned against his neck.

“Are you five?”

“Maybe.”

Derek turned and buried his head in the pillow for a second before settling back to normal.

“Olive juice too.”

“Ha! I knew you’d get it.”

“And,” Derek said, rolling over to kiss Stiles. “I love you. Because I’m not five.”

Stiles grinned.

“Love you too, frown-face.”


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