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31_days2013-12-03 11:38 pm
saraste-impi.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2013-12-03 11:38 pm
[December 3rd] [Teen Wolf] Afraid of Myself
Title: Afraid of Myself
Day/Theme: 3. The snow is warm. The ice is hot.
Series: Teen Wolf
Character/Pairing: Sterek
Rating: Teen
Derek is like a solid weight against him, there's no budging him, no dislodging him and no kicking him away from inside his heart, where he's nestled, like Stiles deserves to have him there. He doesn't, of course he doesn't, because why would Derek want to have someone like him?
When he could have so much better?
Stiles is all gangly too long legs, fragile human bones and skin, breakable. He's not tough, like Derek needs. He'd let Derek break him, a little at least, just to show he won't fall apart by a touch, a too rough kiss, a shove. He hasn't, all the times Derek's smashed him into hard surfaces are clear proof of it.
Derek couldn't break him all the way if he tried.
Well, except that he could, he so could, with claw and fangs and super strenght. But Stiles has never seen him lose it that bad, not that that means that Derek wouldn't, ever. And maybe that's part of the attraction, part of why Derek's snuck into Stiles heart, made a home there and Stiles never wants him to be anywhere else, to be honest. Never wants him to be gone.
Except that...
… Derek's never been there, never been with Stiles, so he couldn't even be gone when he hasn't been there to begin with. Sure, he has, but never in the way Stiles aches with all the pent up lust a teenaged virgin boy has. But Stiles knows, at least he hopes that he knows, that it's more than that, it's not just lust. He wants Derek forever. And that thought scares the shit out of him. Because he's young, should he even be thinking about forever? Also, with the way Derek's living his life, would there even be a forever?
Though, to be honest, darkly honest, all of them are living on the knife edge of death these days. There is always another threat, another thing to fight, another thing to fear, something which could and would leave a trail of dead bodies in it's wake.
And god does Stiles want to be with Derek in any way he can before that happens. But Derek's all distant, stony and cold but mixed with hotness, hotness which burns, makes Stiles kinda afraid-aroused. Which is not normal by a long shot. No sirree! It's always life and death with them, Stiles doesn't know, but wants to oh-so-bad what normal with Derek would be like. Not their normal, but normal people normal. No death or life, no running through the night cos if you stop your might as well draw a gun to your head and shoot yourself because the running is all that keeps death from catching up to you. The normal when there are days that you wake up after a proper nights sleep and face a new day without dread, without fear of the things that you know are coming, bad things.
Bad things like now.
There's a freak snowstorm in Beacon Hills. Snow in California is not normal in any conceivable way so it has to be a witch or some other magic user controlling the weather, Stiles decides. Also, what the hell is his luck that his beloved Jeep freezes up and he can't get her going again? And has no cell reception whatsoever to boot.
He's sure he'll freeze up in the snow and be buried in it and his dad will cry and Scott will cry and it will be awful all around. Mostly since he's not kissed Derek yet or got his stab at forever with him or seen Derek naked. He knows he's not thinking rational at all. He knows. And that he never ever should have left the car, even when the heater wasn't working. Why is he even walking, wading through the snow, it's fucking knee-deep, oh right, he was going to try and get to Derek's. What a brilliant plan, that was. He's sinking into the snow, not caring, freezing but then not. The snow suddenly feels warm and he's just sinking into it's deadly embrace...
And then he's not. Then he's jolted awake, with warm hands around him, holding him close, warming him up, snatching him away from a cold death of hypothermia. Stiles can't, later, even tell how close to it he was because Derek won't tell him.
“Are you a complete idiot?” Derek asks him, which Stiles thinks is a bit much from a man who still sorta part-time lives in the house his whole family died in. But, yeah, maybe it's a valid question, all things considered.
“No,” Stiles still answers, cos why admit to idiocy? And is it idiocy when it gets him this, Derek's hands around him, seems his whole body wrapped in Derek's arms and legs, warm leeching from the big bad werewolf and into him. Maybe he hadn't aimed for this specifically when he'd left the car but he'll take what he can get, now.
Derek's hand kinda shake, which is like whoa, when he tugs Stiles in closer, holds him tighter. Not that Stiles is going anywhere. Derek's warmth makes the coldness in him go away, makes him feel less like a human pop sickle.
Also, Derek's leaning over him, which is clearly a mistake and so mister Broody McWerepants has no-one else to blame than himself, because, really, what else does he expect Stiles to do than what Stiles ends up doing?
Which, of course, is leaning up and kissing Derek, even when it ends too soon cos of Derek's stupid hands all around him, keeping onto him tight. So Stiles ends up falling back downwards again as Derek's lips escape his, retreat in a way that is totally so not fair.
“Stiles...” And Stiles knows that tone, has heard it way more often than what he would have liked to, so many times that it feels like it's lost all meaning. There is a long pause, and they are just there, Derek not letting him go, their eyes locked and Stiles is screaming in his head for Derek to just fucking give in because what he's doing, refusing to acknowledge this thing, this huge thing they both know is between them, it's just wrong to try and pretend it's not there. “Don't,” Derek says then.
Stiles looks up at him, right into Derek's stupidly pretty green-grey eyes and sighs and shivers, a bit cold even when he shouldn't be. “You shouldn't have told me that thing about Laura,” and suddenly, there's a surge of anger in him because who does Derek think he is, who does he think he is that he gets to decide this for both of them, “you shouldn't have. I know you trust me and you know why I was there that day and... why do you have to run away from everything?” he finishes.
Derek sighs, deep and bone-weary. “Am I running now, Stiles?” he asks, his eyes pointedly looking at his arms, the way he's holding Stiles tight in his lap, wrapped in his arms and an old worn blanket.
The charred bones of the old Hale house creak and groan around them, the wind howls outside. Suddenly Stiles wonders why he can even see Derek's face but thinks that there must be some light source, but it's not important.
“You know well what the hell I mean... Derek,” he says pointedly. “Why can't we be... us? What are you afraid of?”
Derek takes a long time to answer, or so Stiles thinks, and Derek just fucking sits there, fucking sits there and holds him in his lap like it's normal, but maybe it's cos he can't let go of Stiles. And Stiles fucking needs to know how it'll all end, what the fuck the answer is because this, this is too much.
“Myself,” Derek finally says and then, because of why Stiles can't tell, he swoops down and kisses Stiles and it's fucking everything and nothing else matters.
Day/Theme: 3. The snow is warm. The ice is hot.
Series: Teen Wolf
Character/Pairing: Sterek
Rating: Teen
Derek is like a solid weight against him, there's no budging him, no dislodging him and no kicking him away from inside his heart, where he's nestled, like Stiles deserves to have him there. He doesn't, of course he doesn't, because why would Derek want to have someone like him?
When he could have so much better?
Stiles is all gangly too long legs, fragile human bones and skin, breakable. He's not tough, like Derek needs. He'd let Derek break him, a little at least, just to show he won't fall apart by a touch, a too rough kiss, a shove. He hasn't, all the times Derek's smashed him into hard surfaces are clear proof of it.
Derek couldn't break him all the way if he tried.
Well, except that he could, he so could, with claw and fangs and super strenght. But Stiles has never seen him lose it that bad, not that that means that Derek wouldn't, ever. And maybe that's part of the attraction, part of why Derek's snuck into Stiles heart, made a home there and Stiles never wants him to be anywhere else, to be honest. Never wants him to be gone.
Except that...
… Derek's never been there, never been with Stiles, so he couldn't even be gone when he hasn't been there to begin with. Sure, he has, but never in the way Stiles aches with all the pent up lust a teenaged virgin boy has. But Stiles knows, at least he hopes that he knows, that it's more than that, it's not just lust. He wants Derek forever. And that thought scares the shit out of him. Because he's young, should he even be thinking about forever? Also, with the way Derek's living his life, would there even be a forever?
Though, to be honest, darkly honest, all of them are living on the knife edge of death these days. There is always another threat, another thing to fight, another thing to fear, something which could and would leave a trail of dead bodies in it's wake.
And god does Stiles want to be with Derek in any way he can before that happens. But Derek's all distant, stony and cold but mixed with hotness, hotness which burns, makes Stiles kinda afraid-aroused. Which is not normal by a long shot. No sirree! It's always life and death with them, Stiles doesn't know, but wants to oh-so-bad what normal with Derek would be like. Not their normal, but normal people normal. No death or life, no running through the night cos if you stop your might as well draw a gun to your head and shoot yourself because the running is all that keeps death from catching up to you. The normal when there are days that you wake up after a proper nights sleep and face a new day without dread, without fear of the things that you know are coming, bad things.
Bad things like now.
There's a freak snowstorm in Beacon Hills. Snow in California is not normal in any conceivable way so it has to be a witch or some other magic user controlling the weather, Stiles decides. Also, what the hell is his luck that his beloved Jeep freezes up and he can't get her going again? And has no cell reception whatsoever to boot.
He's sure he'll freeze up in the snow and be buried in it and his dad will cry and Scott will cry and it will be awful all around. Mostly since he's not kissed Derek yet or got his stab at forever with him or seen Derek naked. He knows he's not thinking rational at all. He knows. And that he never ever should have left the car, even when the heater wasn't working. Why is he even walking, wading through the snow, it's fucking knee-deep, oh right, he was going to try and get to Derek's. What a brilliant plan, that was. He's sinking into the snow, not caring, freezing but then not. The snow suddenly feels warm and he's just sinking into it's deadly embrace...
And then he's not. Then he's jolted awake, with warm hands around him, holding him close, warming him up, snatching him away from a cold death of hypothermia. Stiles can't, later, even tell how close to it he was because Derek won't tell him.
“Are you a complete idiot?” Derek asks him, which Stiles thinks is a bit much from a man who still sorta part-time lives in the house his whole family died in. But, yeah, maybe it's a valid question, all things considered.
“No,” Stiles still answers, cos why admit to idiocy? And is it idiocy when it gets him this, Derek's hands around him, seems his whole body wrapped in Derek's arms and legs, warm leeching from the big bad werewolf and into him. Maybe he hadn't aimed for this specifically when he'd left the car but he'll take what he can get, now.
Derek's hand kinda shake, which is like whoa, when he tugs Stiles in closer, holds him tighter. Not that Stiles is going anywhere. Derek's warmth makes the coldness in him go away, makes him feel less like a human pop sickle.
Also, Derek's leaning over him, which is clearly a mistake and so mister Broody McWerepants has no-one else to blame than himself, because, really, what else does he expect Stiles to do than what Stiles ends up doing?
Which, of course, is leaning up and kissing Derek, even when it ends too soon cos of Derek's stupid hands all around him, keeping onto him tight. So Stiles ends up falling back downwards again as Derek's lips escape his, retreat in a way that is totally so not fair.
“Stiles...” And Stiles knows that tone, has heard it way more often than what he would have liked to, so many times that it feels like it's lost all meaning. There is a long pause, and they are just there, Derek not letting him go, their eyes locked and Stiles is screaming in his head for Derek to just fucking give in because what he's doing, refusing to acknowledge this thing, this huge thing they both know is between them, it's just wrong to try and pretend it's not there. “Don't,” Derek says then.
Stiles looks up at him, right into Derek's stupidly pretty green-grey eyes and sighs and shivers, a bit cold even when he shouldn't be. “You shouldn't have told me that thing about Laura,” and suddenly, there's a surge of anger in him because who does Derek think he is, who does he think he is that he gets to decide this for both of them, “you shouldn't have. I know you trust me and you know why I was there that day and... why do you have to run away from everything?” he finishes.
Derek sighs, deep and bone-weary. “Am I running now, Stiles?” he asks, his eyes pointedly looking at his arms, the way he's holding Stiles tight in his lap, wrapped in his arms and an old worn blanket.
The charred bones of the old Hale house creak and groan around them, the wind howls outside. Suddenly Stiles wonders why he can even see Derek's face but thinks that there must be some light source, but it's not important.
“You know well what the hell I mean... Derek,” he says pointedly. “Why can't we be... us? What are you afraid of?”
Derek takes a long time to answer, or so Stiles thinks, and Derek just fucking sits there, fucking sits there and holds him in his lap like it's normal, but maybe it's cos he can't let go of Stiles. And Stiles fucking needs to know how it'll all end, what the fuck the answer is because this, this is too much.
“Myself,” Derek finally says and then, because of why Stiles can't tell, he swoops down and kisses Stiles and it's fucking everything and nothing else matters.