Nowhere Man 3/8 |Nc-17|
Jul. 27th, 2012 10:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
1lostoneFandom: Teen Wolf (Still regretting NOTHING!)
Words: (this chap) 6325
Summary: When Stiles first heard from his father that he hired Derek Hale as a bodyguard, his first reaction was, ‘ANNND EYYYYYY EEEEE EYYYYYE EEEE EEEYYYYYE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUUU' and a hysterical laugh. His second reaction was “Oh, shit,” and panic.
Warnings: Attempt at plot! Angst! Descriptions of panic attacks! alpha/omega dynamics(made up to fit this story. They're not the "typical" dynamics you find in fic)! Creepy stalker behavior! A metric fuckton of more angst! Boys being stupid! (mostly) Off-screen mpreg and ... kid!fic! This is a wip. I hope to be able to post every three days or so, but fair warning.
Anyway, this is dedicated to mah bb,
jlm121 because I love her. Beta'd by the amazing diva0789!Read on Ao3 || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2
The camera’s lens zoomed in on the abandoned house. He switched the view from the child’s bedroom, painstakingly painted and decaled into a bright, friendly place. He’d watched as Stiles had tried to figure out how to wallpaper the bottom half of the room, how difficult it had been for him to manage the sticky paper and the glue, how hard it had been for Stiles to get the seams even. Everyone knew that wallpapering was really a two-person job. He’d smiled when Stiles had realized that one panel had gone up upside down, then leaned forward, feeling his hard cock press against the unforgiving edge of the desk as he reached forward to touch the monitor, wishing that he could taste Stiles’ frustrated tears.
Now the room was pretty. When Zoe was theirs, he would be sure to let Stiles recreate it.
Stiles had spared nothing for Zoe’s comfort. The toddler bed was silver, with a princess canopy that the two of them would play peek-a-boo through. Her clothes were neatly organized by season in an old-fashioned wardrobe. On a table next to Zoe’s bed sat a light mobile and an ipod dock that had different classical and children’s songs programmed in it. He had always loved the fact that Stiles was just as likely to have the Beatles’ You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away playing after Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet’s Overture followed by Elmo’s version of Five Little Ducks. The carpet was a soft-looking lavender. He had never been able to touch it, but it did look soft. He’d spent hours watching the tiny Zoe playing, seen the games of horsey where Stiles galloped her around the house. He had only put one camera in the room. He would often zoom in on her, watching her sleep. It made him feel closer to Stiles to watch his child. Like a father would.
Stiles didn’t have a lot of clutter in his room. He only had a full-sized bed. Didn’t bother with expensive sheets or designer bedclothes. There was a large headboard covered with books, papers and journals. Stiles was forever getting an idea for something and jotting it down on paper. A small desk in the corner had held Stiles’ laptop. Stiles’ room had three different cameras. One was situated so that he could always see the emotions on Stiles’ face when he walked into his room. The other was a wide-angle camera, allowing him to see everything from the window to the closet. The third camera was situated so that he had a close-up view of Stiles’ bed. Stiles had left his phone charger on the pillow. He’d been nervous, almost twitching as he packed his belongings to go back to Beacon Hills.
And oh, how he’d hated. Absolutely fucking hated seeing Derek Hale in Stiles’ space. He’d been so furious that he’d broken one of the computers, sending it flying when the cameras in the living room had caught the way Derek watched Stiles run around his house, eyes sick with worry whenever Stiles looked away. Saw how the alpha had had to check himself from helping Stiles, how he had clearly tried to keep his distance, giving Stiles what space he could.
He was the only one allowed to watch. One day he’d be allowed to touch.
It wouldn’t be long now. It wouldn’t be long before Stiles was back where he belonged.
***
Stiles’ knees popped when he stood, hefting Zoe up into his arms with a grunt.
“Do you---“
“Go fuck yourself.” Stiles had hissed at Derek’s half-assed attempt to help Stiles with Zoe, his backpack, and Zoe’s backpack. Derek had just glared, like he had any reason or right to be pissed.
“Aren’t bodyguards supposed to be unobtrusive or something? You stick out like a sore thumb.” It had been worse having Derek standing behind him in line. Stiles could actually feel the weight of Derek’s stare on the back of his neck, and even though Stiles told himself that he was being ridiculous, the tiniest thread of guilt was starting to breech his defenses. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Stiles had always had the absolute worst luck when it came to Derek Hale, and frankly he didn’t see that changing in the near future.
Zoe was a sleepy weight in his arms. She was heavy, but it was comforting to have her breathing softly against his cheek. Stiles marked her, rubbing his cheek over and over against the top of her sweet-smelling head, nerves making his stomach roll. The airline made them buy an extra seat for her. Stiles didn’t really mind. He was pretty sure he’d made his point when he’d upgraded his and Zoe’s seats to first class with a few quick clicks on his tablet, leaving Derek to languish in coach. And if his point was that he was a dick, well fine. Stiles could be a dick about this. Besides, Derek’s face when he’d realized what Stiles had done had been worth the extra two thousand bucks.
Stiles knew that he should probably wake Zoe up, but she was so tired. He got her settled in the seat next to his, next to the window with her blanket and an airline pillow. She had given him a really foul look when he buckled her in, but had fallen right back to sleep.
He had waited until they were in the air before asking the flight attendant to speak with her supervisor. “Sorry, but I’m having an issue with another passenger, and I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t allowed to move up here.”
Stiles touched the bruise on his face from when he’d faceplanted into the concrete. Jesus, was that only yesterday morning? It seemed like it was ages ago. “I just... if you don’t mind… my daughter…” Stiles kind of felt bad for manipulating him, but technically nothing was a lie. The attendant’s face hardened as Stiles described Derek.
“No problem , sir. We’ll be sure to let you and your daughter disembark first. Did you need anything else?”
Stiles smiled wanly and shook his head. “No. I think I’m just going to take a nap. It’s been a rough few days.”
Again, not a lie.
****
Stiles felt like a zombie. It seemed ridiculous now. How excited he’d been, how proud of his scholarship. Two weeks ago, Stiles, Lydia and Allison had all driven down to Orientation. They’d had plans to get an apartment together. The apartment had been huge. Each of them had their own bedroom, and the living room had a couch that folded out into a bed, so when the pack visited (as everyone had known would happen of course) there would be plenty of room. Now though, Stiles had managed to get a bed in the freshman dorms. He’d listened to the RA’s spiel and unpacked his stuff without speaking to anyone. Stiles had thought he’d seen Lydia’s red hair once, but he’d managed to lose himself in the crowd of excited students and nervous parents so that he wouldn’t have to speak to her.
His roommate was on the baseball team, and both he and Stiles avoided each other fairly well. Stiles liked to lose himself in the huge library, and only showed up to sleep. His roommate had a buddy with a place, so he didn’t sleep there very much.
It hadn’t taken much to break into the campus computers to make absolutely certain that he had no classes with Allison or Lydia. Stiles had even managed to set a flag on both of them should either of them attempt to change their schedule. Stiles had put a lot of thought into the route from his dorm to his classes. There was one trouble spot where both he and Lydia had a class in the same building, but Stiles was just very, very careful so that there were no incidents. Not like Lyida had ever taken more than a bare notice of him, but Allison... Still they were best friends, and Stiles was all about protecting himself.
It had been harder than he thought to concentrate. Classes seemed endless. Stiles had picked up some kind of bug or something. It sucked. He’d hoarked up more food than he managed to keep down. So much for the freshman fifteen. If anything, Stiles was losing weight at an alarming rate.
The first and second months passed with Stiles barely communicating with anyone. He avoided his dad’s calls until he couldn’t anymore, then had lied so convincingly that he had hated himself. Yes, classes were challenging. No, his roommate wasn’t a nightmare. Yes, Lydia and Allison were fine. No, he didn’t need any money.
He didn’t tell his dad that he spent a lot of time hiding in the library, or sleeping in his dorm. Of how many classes he’d skipped.
He definitely didn’t mention that he had run into Allison by accident in the quad. How she had stared at him like she’d seen a ghost, guilt and worry fighting for dominance on her pretty, deceitful face. She had only taken one step forward, the broken, “Stiles?” falling from her lips before Stiles was whirling, literally sprinting away from the quad as though the hounds of hell were after him. He’d found himself in Palo Alto, somewhere near the water before he’d been able to slow down, bending over and sucking in oxygen.
There’d been tears on his face.
It took almost an hour to get his breathing under control. The panic attack had been a bad one, but Stiles had been careful to hide himself in a copse of trees off the main road, and no one had bothered him.
Stiles didn’t go home for Thanksgiving break.
He did, however find out that he was pregnant.
And that of course fucked up everything.
****
Being shot really fucking hurt. Stiles hadn’t really been looking forward to any of the pack’s I-told-you-so’s, but he hadn’t really expected this.
Erica and Isaac had looked at him like he was an idiot, which okay. It had been pretty stupid to go there alone, but his plan had worked, hadn’t it? Stiles was an excellent distraction. No one could withstand the full Stilinski Experience. It was like the Stilinski Babble, but in like, Technicolor and hi-def. Basically, Stiles was awesome and he didn’t really think it was all that fair that he continually be left out of stuff. His ideas might be a tad bit dangerous, and okay maybe a little crazy on the initial outset, but… nine times out of ten… well, okay maybe more like seven times out of ten, they totally worked.
This had been the tenth time though.
Stiles hadn’t really had a chance to regret the fact that he’d been caught making out with the guy. He really, really hadn’t expected the shame he’d felt, or the way his skin had crawled when his ‘date’ had curled his hand around Stiles’ hip like it had any reason to be there. It had been all part of the plan. It was just that Derek and Scott had busted in on the plan before he could see it through to its awesome fruition.
He hadn’t expected the guy- some asshole Derek was waving his dick at over territory or something- to actually shoot him, though. One second Stiles had seen the blankness on Derek’s face as he’d pulled away from the kiss. Hell, Scott had looked more horrified than Derek, which okay. That hadn’t been cool. Stiles might not have gone all out and proud, but he’d never thought Scott would have a problem with the gay thing, but Scott had looked like he really fucked something up. LIke Stiles had crossed a line or soemthing. He’d gone to the dance with Danny of all people. The next second his ‘date’ was calmly reaching into his clothes to pull out a gun, growling about how the wolvesbane and silver-laced bullets would ensure that Stiles would say goodbye to his friends.
Stiles had grabbed for it.
Unsuccessfully, as it turned out. Yeah. That hadn’t been part of the plan. Neither had the two bullets that he’d managed to take, one to his chest and one to his thigh as he wrestled to keep the gun away from Derek and Scott.
Fortunately, he’d blacked out for the rest of it. Stiles had woken up to his father’s grey face and a pack that tiptoed around him like they weren’t quite what to do with him.
Not exactly how he’d planned spending the first two months after graduation- that was for sure.
While he’d been busy recuperating, Stiles had seen Scott a few times. Erica and Isaac a few times. He had hardly seen Boyd or Derek at all, which okay. Stiles got it. Derek was still pissed that Stiles hadn’t waited in his room like a good little boy. Boyd was pretty much loyal to whatever Derek wanted, so Stiles hadn’t really been planning on playing gin rummy with either of them for awhile.
It hadn’t been until the end of July that Derek had thawed. Slowly he had started to talk to Stiles again. To include him in pack business. To ask him to research again.
Their first kiss had surprised Stiles so much that he’d almost fallen down the stairs.
His leg still wasn’t terrific. The bullet had done some muscle damage, and it gave him an odd twinge now and then. Stiles had been complaining of this with great prejudice when Derek had stopped on Stiles’ stairs, then had turned and tilted Stiles’ mouth up for a kiss. Stiles had felt his leg give out on him. He would have fallen down the rest of the stairs if Derek hadn’t grabbed his shirt.
Stiles’ mind had completely short-circuited.
When he had accepted the ‘date’ (it would forever be in quotes in Stiles’ mind. He had felt extremely creepy when the guy had turned and planted one on him. His skin had crawled. Stiles had kissed back, but it hadn’t been easy to keep his mouth occupied when his brain was shrieking ew! Ew! Worst first kiss ever! at him.) He’d done it so Derek and the pack could sneak into his house and get the proof of what they needed… well. Something. Stiles hadn’t really been listening. But they’d needed the dude to be long gone from his house.
His second kiss? Holy freaking God. Stiles hadn’t ever heard himself make that tiny, needy sound before. Derek had just pressed his lips to Stiles’; there had only been the barest hint of a tongue at the closed seam of his mouth, but it was like fireworks had gone off in his head.
Derek had pulled away and Stiles couldn’t help the way he licked his lips, still stunned into silence.
“I’m glad that your leg is better. I don’t like it when you get hurt, Stiles.”
Stiles had just blinked. He wondered if he could lean in again for another kiss, but the sound of his dad opening the front door had caused Derek to scurry up the stairs and out Stiles’ window like some sort of fugitive.
A kiss was shocking enough. Dating Derek Hale? Yeah. Stiles remembered a very vivid conversation with a baffled Scott about totems and whether he’d been incepted, because shit like this didn’t happen to him. The crush he’d more or less pushed away, starved so that it would shrivel up and die was blooming again, and Stiles didn’t know quite how to stop it.
Movies. Making out in his car. Hikes in the woods. Shopping for his share of the stuff for the apartment. Making out in his room. Derek was moving at a glacial speed even though Stiles helpfully reminded him that he would be leaving in just a few weeks for college.
Derek had just gotten a strained sort of smile on his face, would kiss Stiles quickly, and tell him that the time wasn’t right yet.
Shame that he had never thought to ask Derek what exactly he was waiting for.
Funny thing, that.
***
Stiles couldn’t catch his breath.
“I think I’m nervous.”
Derek scraped his teeth over Stiles’ nipple, and Stiles couldn’t help the way he arched up, towards the heat of Derek’s mouth. “Do you want me to stop?” Derek flicked the tip of his tongue at the pebbled nipple and Stiles whined, screwing his eyes shut at the sensation. Derek pulled at it with his lips, stretching the small, tight bit of skin until Stiles wasn’t sure if it hurt or if it felt good, but his dick was definitely on board.
He was so embarrassed at how wet he was. The jeans he was wearing were soaked almost through, the musky scent of his precome thick in the air. Stiles felt like if he didn’t fucking come soon then he was going to die. He arched again when Derek moved his mouth down over his ribs, biting a little harder this time as he squirmed. Derek pushed the heel of his hand against Stiles’ cock, and Stiles gasped, coming all over himself with a cry of Derek's name.
“Look at you… Jesus, Stiles.” Derek pressed his face against Stiles’ crotch, sucking at the material until Stiles squirmed, pressing his dick against the clammy, wet fabric, desperate for the heat of Derek’s mouth. Stiles didn’t even think that his cock cared that he’d already come. He was still as hard as before, sensation rolling through his gut as Derek breathed him in.
“No. I don’t want to stop.” Stiles had to laugh at the ridiculousness of everything.
He’d woken up feeling… weird. Humping his mattress. He’d jerked off twice before he got in the shower, and that had helped for a bit. He’d even thought for a few minutes that Scott had slipped him some Viagra or something as a joke… but Scott had been weirdly absent, busy with some task that Derek had given him. They had plans to get together later. Lydia was having a going-away party, and Stiles was really excited for it. Derek had even promised to take him, which was also weird. Usually they hung out alone. Not that Stiles minded really. Any time with Derek was awesome. But it would be nice to actually show him off!
The weird- too hyped feeling had lasted with him all day. Stiles had been half hard in his jeans for the two hours he’d fucked around on his xbox, enjoying not being in high school anymore, and not having to be... well, anywhere really.
Then Derek had texted him, asking if he wanted to come over, and Stiles had been horrified at the way he’d just slipped his hand into his jeans, lazily fisting his cock after texting back. Stiles had come right there on his couch and had only avoided his dad finding out by rolling off onto the floor. He wiped his hand on his jeans, then curled his body up to hide the wet patch over his dick until his dad had turned his back, then slunk to his room to shower (again!) and change.
He’d practically jumped Derek when he’d gotten there, and instead of keeping things nice and slow, Derek had been completely into it. He’d lifted Stiles up, kissing him pressing their bodies together; licking into his mouth and Stiles was gone, lost in the feel of Derek finally against him, overwhelming him.
That was the second time Derek had asked him if he wanted to stop though.
“I’m finally here in your bed. We have the whole day. Holy shit, I think I’m still hard. Is that like, even possible? Can we get these jeans off?”
Something flashed across Derek’s face too quickly for Derek to catch the expression, but with a little wiggle that Stiles was just sure looked as sexy in reality as it did in his head, unbuttoning his sopping wet jeans and kicking them off.
“I guess I’m just.. really, really wet. Uh, sorry. Is that a problem?” Derek was staring down at him with his jaw tight. He almost looked pissed, and Stiles winced, sitting up a little on Derek’s bed, feeling a little disgusted with himself. “Which.. oh. Of course you are.” Stiles scrubbed his hand over his face, feeling the blush as it spread down his neck, over his chest. “Look, I can just…”
Derek stopped him with his hand on Stiles’ hip. “Turn over.”
Stiles knew he was gaping and bit his lip, awkwardly turning over and looking back over his shoulder, not quite sure where to put legs and arms that seemed all at once way too long.
“I can’t believe you got yourself ready for me.”
Derek’s fingers were hot against his ass, pushing his hips until Stiles stuck his ass up in the air, trying not to compare himself to a bitch in heat as he felt Derek behind him. Stiles’ brow crinkled. Did Derek mean… before? When he’d jerked off so many times? Cuz that really wasn’t helping. Stiles felt like he could go off again, just from feeling the rough material of Derek’s jeans, brushing against him. Stiles went hot all over when he realized that Derek wasn’t even naked. Did that mean he wanted him? Like- badly enough that he hadn’t even stripped? He tried to ignore the little voice inside of him that insisted that was a sign of how much Derek couldn’t keep his hands off him, that maybe his … feelings? Maybe they weren’t one-sided.
“You’re so fucking ready, Stiles. Stiles.!”
Stiles shivered at the low growl underlying Derek’s voice, cried out when Derek slid two fingers inside of him. It didn’t even hurt, which... okay that was weird. Stiles had always heard that it did. Maybe he’d come so much that he was just relaxed. The precome had slid down between his asscheeks. Derek must have used enough to make it feel good. Or werewolves had magical lubing fingers, which hello. It was totally possible. Stiles must have missed Derek slicking his fingers up. That pissed him off.
He wanted to remember everything from this night.
Stiles bit his lip when Derek’s fingers slipped even further inside of him, found him ready, and jerked out of his twitching, needy hole with a rough jerk of his fingers. There was the sound of a zipper loud in the room over the panting cries that Stiles couldn’t stop. He kept pushing back when Derek lifted him slightly, sliding his cock into him with one smooth movement.
Both Stiles and Derek cried out, their cries mingling in the early evening air. Stiles grunted when Derek slammed his hips back onto his cock, shifting balls deep with each hard thrust. Stiles just muffled his cries in the pillow, but oh. Oh fucking Jesus, he couldn’t stop making noise, greedy, frantic sounds as he came all over himself again, shuddering when Derek didn’t stop, fucking him through it. Derek’s hand closed over Stiles’ slippery cock. He bit Stiles’ neck, and Stiles saw white when he came again, slumping down onto the mattress.
Stiles felt sticky, slick fluid on his thighs and wondered if Derek had come too, but no. Derek made a dark sound and Stiles felt the thickness at the base of Derek’s cock as it started to jerk inside of him. The feeling made his brain come back online and all of the sudden, Stiles realized what he that was. He thurst back onto Derek’s cock as the knot swelled, hot pulses of Derek’s come painting his insides, adding to the mess. As though that was some signal his body had been waiting for, Stiles felt some of the weird, jittery feeling dissipate. Derek slumped over him, breathing heavily into Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing against the mark he’d made.
Stiles sucked in a shaky breath, wiggling under Derek’s heaviness. Derek moved so that they were on their sides, spoon-fashion, still tied together. Stiles gave an experimental squeeze of his ass and grinned when Derek shuddered behind him. Derek just slid his hand over the sweat—well, he hoped it was sweat, but God knew—on Stiles’ chest, over his heart. Pressed lightly against the new, pink skin of the scar from where he’d been shot. He didn’t say anything. Neither did Derek.
And he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. It was just like… well. His dad had once said that he knew he loved Stiles’ mom by the way his heart and is gut felt like they’d traded places half the time, how he had never felt more content as when he was with her. “I know this timing isn’t the best but…”
Derek tensed behind him. Stiles felt it- felt every single muscle in Derek’s body tighten until there was no give to him.
“I’m in love with you.” Stiles wanted to wince at the nervous burble of sound. “Derek… I…”
There was a heartbeat of silence. Two. By the third, Stiles was already wishing he could take the words back. What was he thinking? What was he thinking? Derek was still tense, holding himself so tightly that the unnaturalness of the pose was starting to freak him out.
“Ha!” The bark of laugher actually had Stiles flinching away from Derek’s chest.
What?
“I told you I could do it. Pay up.”
What? Stiles’ blinked, utterly baffled.
Boyd and Scott stepped into the room. Stiles tried to jerk away, wincing when the knot pulled. He didn’t know what to do, tried to cover himself with a startled squeak.
“That’s nice. Easiest hundred bucks I ever made.” Boyd’s deep voice was too loud. It didn’t make any sense.
“Derek?” The small whisper slipped out before Stiles could stop it. He felt Derek shifting behind his body. Hateful, hurtful embarrassment was crawling over Stiles’ skin. Scott wouldn’t look him in the eyes, but his laugh made Stiles want to puke. “You…. You guys made a … a bet?”
“Fuck yeah, he made a bet. For what it’s worth, I told him there’s no way you’d be so stupid to fall for it. Guess I was wrong, huh?” Erica’s voice made Stiles jerk away from Derek again, wincing as the knot slipped out of his ass. It hurt this time. Pain flared like a punch and Stiles sucked in a pained whimper, jerking away from where Derek sprawled on the bed, ignoring how his cock lay, wet and sticky out of his jeans. “Oh, Derek” Her voice was a high pitched falsetto. I woooove youuu.” Erica mocked and Stiles staggered, his legs not holding him when he slid out of the bed. He caught himself against the footboard, but couldn’t… he couldn’t.
“That’s enough.” Derek's voice was low. Stiles barely heard him over the sound of Erica and Boyd's snort, or of Scott's laugh. He still wouldn't meet Stiles' gaze. Scott tossed Stiles’ jeans at him, and Stiles pulled them on with short, jerky movements. His throat was tight and he could feel the sting of tears in his eyes. He felt filthy, covered in come from both their bodies. Used. So fucking confused.
“You guys hit it.” Derek stretched, his voice twisted with something Stiles didn’t recognize. No, that’s not true. He did. He remembered it from years ago, when Derek hated him. “Maybe I can convince him to go another round. Look at him. He’d go for it. All he’s got is this.”
Stiles couldn’t have said if Scott and the others had left. He wasn’t aware that he was shaking his head ‘no’ until Derek’s cutting grin made him jerk his head away, not looking at Derek. This was. Was this a joke? This didn’t make …
“But. I thought you were supposed to … to take care of your pack?”
Derek’s laugh was like a knife, cutting so deeply that Stiles knew he’d feel the sting every time he let himself remember today.
“You aren’t my pack. Are you kidding me? All you do is fuck things up, then need one of my wolves to come rescue you. When Scott offered me a bet, it was just a joke. He knew you’d go for it. Fifty if I could get you to fuck, a hundred if I could get you to say that you.” Derek’s voice cracked a little. “Loved me. And you did, didn’t you? Fucking gagging for my cock.” Derek cupped himself. To Stiles’ wide eyes his hand looked huge. Stiles felt his stomach roll again. “Although, we didn’t get to that, I guess.” That laugh again.
Stiles thought that it would have been less painful if Derek had just punched him. He didn’t bother looking for the rest of his clothes. He didn’t do anything; whirling and running, tripping twice when his leg started to give out on him. Stiles couldn’t see with the tears in his eyes, but he could hear the pack-- Derek’s real pack—laughing at him when he ran by. Allison tried to stop him, and Stiles almost bowled her over, desperate to get away.
He’d had to pull over to lose it; crying and shaking so much that he almost wrapped his jeep around a tree. Stupid. He was so, so fucking stupid. He didn’t understand why Scott would- or how Derek could... and. And Erica’s voice rang in his head until Stiles pressed the heels of his hands against his temples sucking in oxygen. He wiped the snot and tears off of his face with the back of his arm, the thought of Derek or someone else finding him spurring him into action. He made it to his house, into a shower, washing his body, trying to feel less like a stupid, stupid kid.
Why. Why had he told Derek that? Why hadn’t he seen? Of course, Now it made sense. Derek had started fooling around with him so suddenly. Stiles had thought foolishly that it was because he had been waiting for Stiles to graduate. Now though. Now he knew that it had just been for the bet.
He couldn’t stay here.
He had to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Maybe he could go early for college. Classes started in a few days anyway. He could just… get out. Leave Beacon Hills and just go.
Stiles couldn’t help the whining, broken sound he made when he remembered the sound of Derek’s laugh.
Stiles couldn’t help the sharp bark of his own laughter. He’d wanted to remember this night for forever. Well. Looks like he was gonna get his wish.
He was so fucking stupid.
***
Stiles jerked awake when Zoe reached up a small hand to his face. Her sleepy smile took him out of his memory and back into the present.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hi, daddy. My ears hurt.” Zoe stretched her mouth open, working her jaw until her ear popped. She wrinkled up her nose and Stiles leaned forward to kiss her forehead.
“It’s because we’re on a plane . Do you want to see?”
More curious than scared, Zoe cocked her head in a way that was pure Derek. Stiles leaned over and pulled up the window shade.
“Wooo-www! It’s like the Care Bears!”
"Better keep looking. I bet you’ll see one. Are you hungry?”
Zoe couldn’t care less about food when there was the potential for Care Bear spottage. Stiles took in a deep, shaky breath then asked the flight attendant for a soda.
“How long until we’re due to land?”
“Not too long. We’ll begin our decent in an hour.”
Stiles smiled his thanks. An hour. It seemed completely surreal that he’d be back in California in just under an hour. Stiles hadn’t been there since he’d left school, riding buses and hitching rides across the country after he’d sold his jeep, trying to get as far away from this side of the country as possible.
Zoe’s hand slowly stretched over towards Stiles’. Their fingers entwined. Stiles sucked in a shaky breath, his throat tight. An hour. An hour and he’d be back home.
Then God knew what would happen.
(To be continued! Please don't kill me. I promise this will make sense later.)
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thanks for...
Date: 2012-07-27 09:59 pm (UTC)