I Must Be Dreaming


An unlikely pair finds comfort in each other.

Romance / Humor
4.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Stiles sagged under Derek’s weight; Derek could barely stay upright and supporting him was no easy task.

“This is it…” Derek mumbled.

Stiles stumbled up the front steps and paused in the doorway, “Keys?” Derek motioned to his pocket. “Of course,” Stiles groaned. Seeing no alternative, Stiles shoved Derek against the wall, bracing him with his hip and freeing his hand to reach into Derek’s pocket. “You’re back three hours and I’m already in your pants.”

Derek tried for a laugh, but it came out more like a shudder.

“Alright there, big guy, hold on,” he finally had the keys in his grasp and he shoved the first one into the lock, opening the lobby door.

“Elevator,” Derek directed through clenched teeth.

“Right,” Stiles hauled Derek into the elevator and the doors shut behind them.

Derek braced himself against the rail, panting. “I’m on the fifth floor,” he breathed.

“Okay…” Stiles looked frantically at the panel of buttons, but even as he looked the numbers began to change. Symbols danced and flickered under his shaking hands.

“Five, Stiles!”

“Okay, I got it!” he roared and took a random stab at it. The elevator jolted upward and Derek gave a soft moan. Miraculously, they slowed to a halt at the fifth floor and Stiles wrapped Derek’s arm over his shoulder and hoisted him off the wall and onto the landing. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before they struggled through the door. “Bedroom?” he asked, completely winded.

Derek shook his head, they weren’t going to make it, “Couch.”

They crossed the room and Stiles gently, if not gracefully, lowered Derek onto the couch. He ducked into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. Derek downed it. “Another?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head and leaned back against the cushions. Stiles returned to the darkened kitchen and poured himself a glass, drinking it slowly while trying to steady his breathing. He flicked on the lights as he made his way back into the living room.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Stiles crouched down in front of him, “What did they do to you?”

Derek shot him a withering look and then closed his eyes again. “Just a little electroshock therapy. Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he said defiantly.

“Oh yeah,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “because stumbling into the middle of the road is the picture of handling it. Why aren’t you healing?”

“I am.”

“Why aren’t you healing faster?” he snapped.

A beat of silence. “I’m not as strong as I used to be,” he said with his eyes still shut. Stiles flopped down on the couch next to him, “Anyway you don’t look so hot yourself.”

“Yeah, well stuff’s happened while you’ve been gone. Where were you, by the way?”

“Cora and I went to find out more about our family.”

Stiles waited for him to elaborate, “...Is that it?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well then where is she?”

“Once we found what we were looking for, she didn’t feel the need to come back,” Derek said simply.

“And you did?” Stiles tried to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“I got roped into something Peter was already involved in. Hence the electrical burns.” Derek lifted his shirt a couple inches revealing what did indeed look like electrical burns across his torso.

“Shit, Derek!” Stiles reached for a closer look without even thinking. His hands barely grazed Derek’s stomach before Derek shifted away and lowered his shirt.

“They’re not as bad as they were a couple hours ago. They’re healing; I’m fine,” he said gruffly.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Stiles scooted farther away from him, widening the gap between them. He was suddenly very aware of his breathing; the sound of it was deafening. He needed to say something, anything. “It makes sense Peter is behind all this, that asshole.”

“True, but he did get me this place,” Derek sat up, testing his strength. He felt pretty good, considering, mostly just tired.

“Yeah, whose stuff is this?” Stiles looked around the fully furnished apartment.

“I’m subletting it until I can find a more permanent place,” Derek explained. He got up and moved to the bedroom.

“So you’re staying?” Stiles followed him, feeling embarrassingly like a lost puppy following a stranger on the street.

Derek collapsed on the bed, “Well obviously things aren’t going well here. Someone needs to protect this town.”

Stiles’s voice caught in his throat. He felt betrayed by Derek’s words, but he knew it was the truth. He, Scott, and Allison were too wrapped up in their own problems to take care of any new threats drawn to town. It was probably a good thing that Derek was planning to stay. That must be why he felt so relieved. In fact, ever since Derek stumbled in front of his jeep a few hours earlier, Stiles had felt more relaxed than he had in months. Which didn’t make sense, when he thought about it. Finding your former frenemy wandering around injured and barely conscious shouldn’t be reassuring, but it was somehow. Of course, he couldn’t let Derek know that.

“You’re right, Derek, I’m sorry,” his voice dripped with sarcasm, “but while you were out chasing your family history, we were a little preoccupied. Scott can’t control his transformations, Allison’s being haunted by her dead aunt-”

“You mean Kate?” Derek growled.

“-and I’m straight up just losing my mind-”

“What do you mean, losing your-?”

“Oh, please, I know you saw me freeze up in the elevator.”

“I thought you just froze under the pressure.”

“Dude, I run with werewolves. When have you ever known me to freeze under pressure?” Stiles countered.

“Good point,” Derek admitted, “Although there was that one time with the bone saw…”

Stiles chuckled, but his heart wasn’t in it. He suddenly felt like crying.

Derek got up from the bed and crossed the room to stand in front of Stiles. “What’s going on? Why did you say you’re losing your mind?” He tried to catch Stiles’s eyes.

Stiles avoided his gaze, looking stubbornly at his feet. “I’ve-I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” he said quietly.

“Don’t lie to me Stiles,” Derek said not unkindly, “I may not be an Alpha anymore, but I can still listen to your heartbeat.”

Stiles looked up, “I’m having trouble waking up, while I’m dreaming - or, while I’m awake.” He shook his head, “I don’t know, it’s complicated. I can’t tell when I’m dreaming and when I’m awake. And even when I know I’m awake, it still feels like a dream. You know how you can’t read anything in a dream, like how every time you look at it it changes?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“That’s what happened in the elevator. I couldn’t read the numbers.”

“But that makes no sense,” Derek reasoned, “We’re awake now.”

“Are we?” Stiles’s voice shook.

Derek just looked at him, with real fear in his eyes. He whirled around, and snatched up the clock on the nightstand. “Here,” he shoved in at Stiles, “What time is it?”

Stiles looked at the clock face. The red lines twisted and shifted before his eyes. He shook his head and whispered, “It’s all Greek to me.”

“This isn’t funny, Stiles,” Derek took the clock back. “It’s - fuck, is that the time? It’s four in the morning.”

“You should get some sleep,” Stiles turned to go.

“No way,” Derek grabbed his arm and physically pulled him back into the room, “I’m not letting you go anywhere, not like this. You probably shouldn’t have even been driving…”

“Well you were in no state to drive,” Stiles reasoned.

“Either way you’re not driving tonight. There’s extra clothes in the dresser if you want to change.”

Stiles felt himself blush, “I’m fine like this, really.”

“Don’t be stupid, change into something comfortable. Is your phone out in the living room?” Stiles nodded, “I’m going to go text your dad so he doesn’t come out here and arrest me for kidnapping.”

“You got funny while you were away,” Stiles called as Derek made his way down the hall. He pulled out a soft white v-neck and a pair of sweatpants he could tie at the waist.

“Maybe I just missed you,” Derek entered the room just as Stiles was pulling the shirt over his head. If he wasn’t blushing before, he certainly was now. Thankfully, he’d already put on the pants. He caught Derek staring at him once he’d gotten the shirt over his head. Derek immediately looked away and turned, seemingly embarrassed. He cleared his throat and then peeled off his own shirt, revealing his muscular torso.

“Oh come on, you did that on purpose!” Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek’s confused look, “We can’t all look like Calvin Klein models.”

Derek unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off in one impossibly fluid motion. “Well what do you know?” he asked, checking the tag on his boxer briefs, “Calvin Klein.”

“Put some clothes on, you animal,” Stiles chucked some pants at him, hitting him directly in the face. Stiles cackled and Derek smiled.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” Derek pulled on the pants and got in bed.

Stiles shuffled around awkwardly. “I guess I’ll just go, um, sleep on the couch…”

Wordlessly, Derek threw back the covers on the opposite side of the bed, inviting Stiles in. He crept under the blankets, trying very carefully not to touch any part of the man lying next to him. Derek clicked off the light, “If you tell anyone about this…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Stiles groaned, “you’ll maul me, or tear my arm off or something.”

“Exactly,” Derek smiled as sleep claimed him.

Stiles woke with a shout.

“Are you okay?” Derek sat up next to him, “Stiles-” he put his hand on his shoulder.

Stiles exhaled, “Yeah, it was just a dream.”

“A nightmare?” Derek asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed and grabbed Derek’s hand. “Wait,” he faltered, taking in the concern on Derek’s face, “I’ve done this before…”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve had this dream before…” Stiles looked around. He was in Derek’s room, but otherwise it was the same, the exact same dream he’d had of Lydia in his bed. He shot up from the bed, breathing heavily, “This isn’t real, I’m dreaming, I have to wake up.”

“Stiles, calm down,” Derek pleaded as Stiles backed toward the bedroom door, “Just come back to bed.”

“I have to wake up,” he repeated more urgently, “I have to wake up…” He fumbled for the doorknob.

“Stiles, come on, just come back to bed. Stiles, please! Stiles, don’t-”

Stiles pushed himself through the door, stumbling into the hallway of Beacon Hills Hospital. He looked around, bewildered. “Hello?” he called down the empty corridor, “I-is anyone there?”

The only response was the slow creak of a door opening behind him. When is a door not a door? he thought. Against his better judgment, Stiles walked through it.

The room was dark, he could barely see the figure curled in the hospital bed. He could hear her breathing though, rasping beneath the steady beep of the monitor next to her. The woman faced away from him. “Hello?” he called again, “Are you awake?”

“Stiles...” a familiar voice whispered.

Tears stung his eyes, “M-mom?”

Claudia turned to face him and Stiles recoiled in horror as her black, lifeless eyes bore into him.

Derek was calling his name and shaking him, but it was his own screams that woke him.

“Stiles! Stiles, wake up!” Derek shouted, “You’re fine, you’re okay, it was just a dream.” Stiles sobbed and curled into Derek’s arms. Derek softened and shifted so he was truly holding Stiles. “Shhh,” he whispered, “You’re okay, it’s going to be okay.”

Derek rubbed his back and stroked his hair, showing more tenderness than Stiles thought possible. “I dreamed about my mom,” he whispered, “I haven’t done that since I was a kid.”

Derek nodded, he was no stranger to nightmares. Stiles’s admission felt like a secret; he knew Stiles rarely talked about his mom. “Did she talk to you?”

“She just said my name, but when she turned to look at me, her eyes were completely black. Like there was only emptiness behind them,” he shuddered. Derek’s grip tightened around him.

“Hey, hey,” he crooned and kissed Stiles’s temple.

Stiles looked up, eyes wide with shock. Derek seemed just as startled by his own actions. Both became suddenly aware of how closely they were wrapped around each other, but neither moved.

Stiles began, “Derek, I-”

But Derek shook his head a little and slowly bent down to place a soft, hesitant kiss on Stiles’s lips. The kiss was a question, and Stiles answered it. He pulled Derek down on top of him, deepening the kiss. Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth and he felt a low growl rumble through Derek’s chest. It wasn’t until Stiles felt Derek nip at his bottom lip that he pulled away.

“No,” he untangled himself from Derek’s embrace, “No, this would never happen in real life. I’m dreaming. Fuck, I’m still dreaming.”

He tried to get out of bed, but Derek stopped him, “Stiles, you’re awake, I promise you, you’re awake. Please just calm down-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Stiles shouted. Derek grabbed his wrist, “Let me go! God damn it, Derek, let - what the hell?!” He hissed and yanked his arm away. Four perfect claw marks dotted his wrist; blood was already pooling to the surface of his skin.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Derek apologized. He applied pressure to Stiles’s arm while leaching the pain away.

“What the hell, Derek?” Stiles asked again, scowling.

“You-you can’t feel pain in a dream,” he explained.

Stiles looked up, “So this is real?” Derek nodded, never breaking eye contact. Stiles exhaled shakily, stunned, “But that means…”

“That we just made out? Yeah,” Derek chuckled, “about that…”

Before he could decide against it, Stiles leaned up and pressed his lips hungrily to Derek’s. It took Derek a few seconds to respond, but he quickly reciprocated. Derek rolled Stiles onto his back, pressing the length of his body against Stiles, putting everything he had into the kiss. Stiles moaned as Derek slipped his tongue into his mouth and his hands explored Derek’s torso, something he’d been wanting to do for longer than we wanted to admit. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Why didn’t you?” Derek countered. He lifted Stiles’s shirt up and over his head.

“I thought you hated me.”

Derek looked him in the eyes, “I think we both know we haven’t hated each other for a long time.” Stiles threw his head back as Derek pressed bruising kisses along his jaw, stopping to pay particular attention to his collarbone.

“Careful-” Stiles rasped.

“Too late,” Derek smiled and licked at the purple mark he’d sucked into Stiles’s skin. Stiles moaned and scraped his fingers along Derek’s scalp. Derek was licking down his chest now, breath ghosting over his nipple.

“Derek, please,” he whined.

Derek smirked and circled his nipple with his tongue, sucking mercilessly before moving to the next one. Stiles’s strangled cry urged him on. He moved to Stiles’s injured wrist and lapped away what was left of the blood, which Stiles had to admit was extremely hot. Derek’s tongue traced the contours of Stiles’s stomach; he made sure to kiss each mole he came across. “It’s like connect the dots down here.”

“Fuck you,” was all he could manage.

“No, fuck you,” Derek tongue flicked inside his belly button.

“You’ve got jokes, huh?” Stiles pulled Derek up to kiss him deeply, before flipping him over and straddling his hips. He grabbed Derek’s wrists, pinning him down as he ground their hips together. Derek let out the most beautiful whine Stiles had ever heard and he bent down to whisper in his ear, “I’ve waited seventeen years for this moment, you really think I’m going to just lie there and take it?” He ground his hips again and released Derek just enough to allow him a kiss. They both knew Derek could have broken free at any time, but they could also both feel how much Stiles being on top was turning Derek on.

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he felt the extent of Derek’s arousal beneath him. He slunk off of Derek and lowered himself so he was level with Derek’s erection.

“Stiles-” Derek sat up, “Stiles, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” Stiles said simply.

“Do you know how?”

“No, but you can teach me.”

Derek looked at him, the slight flush on Stiles’s cheeks stood out against his pale complexion. “Okay,” he agreed, “but if you want to stop at any point-”

“Yeah, yeah,” he griped, but he gave a small smile before whispering, “Thanks.”

“We’ll go slow.”

Stiles exhaled nervously. He inched Derek’s briefs down until his length popped out from the waistband. “Wow,” was all he could say.

“You did that to me,” Derek encouraged. He moaned when he felt Stiles’s hot, wet mouth around his head. “Good,” he breathed, “Keep going.” Stiles took more of him in his mouth, bobbing up and down until he’d slicked up the whole of Derek’s length. “Try using your tongue,” Derek suggested. Stiles swirled his tongue around as he came up, licking at Derek’s slit. Derek gasped and Stiles moved back down, this time licking along the underside as he came up. “Now,” Derek rasped, “hum as you suck.”

Stiles released Derek, with a soft pop, “Hum?”

“Trust me,” Derek said.

“Okay, Der…” Stiles dipped back down.

Derek barely had time to register the warmth he felt at the use of the nickname, when he felt something else. Something that had his head thrown back and hands clenching in Stiles’s hair. “Stiles!” he moaned as Stiles hummed softly while continuing his rhythm. Up and down, back and forth, it was all Derek could do to keep his hips from bucking up into Stiles’s mouth. “Stiles wait,” he gasped, “Stiles stop, I’m close.”

Stiles stopped, confused, “You don’t want to me to keep going?”

“Not…” he panted, “like this…” He kissed Stiles deeply. “I want to come inside of you,” Derek whispered as they broke apart.

Stiles bit his bottom lip, “Will it hurt?”

“It might,” Derek admitted, “If you don’t want to we don’t have to.”

Stiles hesitated, “I want you.”

Derek nodded. “Lie down,” Stiles obliged and Derek climbed on top of him. He slowly eased Stiles’s pants and boxers down in one motion. He kissed Stiles softly as his hand moved up and down Stiles’s length, his precum providing enough friction. Stiles moaned and moved his hips in time with Derek’s pumps. “You’re a natural,” he whispered into Stiles’s mouth, then “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

That sent Stiles over the edge. He came into Derek’s hand and all over his chest. Derek kissed him again, “You’re doing so good, babe.” Stiles whimpered and clung to him. They stayed that way for a while, letting their heartbeats slow. “You ready?” Derek questioned. Stiles nodded and Derek placed a pillow beneath Stiles’s legs so his hips angled up towards him. Then he got down on his stomach facing Stiles’s hole. “I’m going to open you up now, okay?” Derek asked.

“Okay,” Stiles breathed. He still couldn’t quite believe this was happening, but if this was a dream, it was the best fucking dream he’d ever had. The moment he felt Derek’s tongue circle his opening, he almost lost it. If he hadn’t just come, he certainly would’ve come again. Derek slicked him up, slowly loosening the muscles with his tongue. His hands braced Stiles’s hips as he dipped his tongue in and out.

Derek looked up, “You ready for my fingers?”

“Yes,” Stiles said hazily, drunk on sensation.

Derek used his hand, still slick with Stiles’s cum, to slowly work his way past the ring of muscle. First one finger, then two, until he was scissoring Stiles, stretching him to accommodate his size.

“Derek,” he moaned, he was getting hard again, “I need you.”

Derek had never heard anything so sexy. He removed his fingers and reached into the bedside table for his bottle of lube. Once he was slick enough, he lined himself up with Stiles’s entrance. He paused, “Stiles, I-”

“Oh my God, just do it!” Stiles begged.

Slowly, so slowly, Derek pushed himself into Stiles. The boy cried out beneath him and he stopped, terrified.

“Just give me a minute,” Stiles panted. Fuck, that hurt. The two sat there in the dark, breathing heavily. “Okay, keep going,” Stiles prompted.

Derek pushed the rest of the way in. “Mmmm, you feel so good,” he moaned, “Is this okay for you?”

“Yeah, just, let me get used to it.”

“Of course,” Derek kissed him. “Tell me when,” he whispered.

“Alright,” Stiles whispered after a few moments, “go ahead.”

Derek eased out and pushed back in, slow at first, but then picking up speed. “Still okay?” he asked.

“Nngghh, faster,” Stiles moaned. Derek obliged, pumping faster and harder into Stiles. Skin slapped against skin in the dark room. Their moans increased in volume until Derek found Stiles’s prostate. “Fuck! Derek, yeah, fuck, right there. Don’t stop, don’t stop-” he whined.

Derek growled and gasped, “Fuck Stiles, I’m close.”

“Right there, yes, yes,” his voice rose higher until Derek had him keening and he came in thick ropes across his stomach. Derek came with a shout, filling Stiles before he collapsed on top of him.

“Mmmm,” Stiles moaned and kissed Derek lazily. Derek pulled out and kissed him back eagerly. They lay there until they could catch their breath.

“Stiles?” Derek whispered.


“We’re going to figure this out.”

He shifted to look Derek in the eyes, “What, you and me?”

“No, I mean the dreaming thing.”

“Oh,” Stiles tried not to show his disappointment, “yeah, right, I know.”

“As for ‘you and me,’” Derek cupped his jaw, “I’m willing to figure that out too.”

Stiles beamed at him, “Really?”

“Really.” Derek kissed him, “You’re going to be okay Stiles.”

And amazingly, Stiles believed him.

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