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31_days2013-12-08 11:44 pm
saraste-impi.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2013-12-08 11:44 pm
[December 8th] [Teen Wolf] Basic Things
Title: Basic Things
Day/Theme: 8.Waiting to die isn't living.
Series: Teen Wolf
Characters/Pairing: Derek, Stiles
Rating: G
Derek knows full well what he deserves and what he doesn't.
Stiles fit in the latter category even when he's crawled under Derek's skin, even when, sometimes, he seems to be all that Derek thinks about. Well, when he's not thinking about basic things like survival and how he got his whole family quilt because he'd thought with his dick. Although he might know that that last one isn't entirely true, knows that Kate probably would have had a go at his family even if Derek hadn't fallen at her feet, begging for whatever attention she deigned to give him.
Derek knows this.
It doesn't make his self-hate any less constant. It's why he thinks he doesn't deserve to be cared for. It's why he finds it so fucking hard to care for others, let them care for him. Because, in the end, you can't really trust anyone. Caring is dangerous because it leads to trust. Caring breaks you. Trust breaks you. And then, all you have left is revenge but when that's all done with? What is there in life but striving to survive as best as you could before your inevitable death caught up with you?
Yet, here he is, standing still amidst the fading glamor of hospital machinery mixed with the groans and hisses of humans dying slow drawn-out deaths, until all those other noises face away and all he can hear is the steady thrum of Stiles' heart, the soft in-out rhythm of his steady breathing.
Derek is there because he can't be a good man, he can't keep away from this ridiculous loud boy who holds such sway over his emotions, his decisions. Because Stiles' mere existence, his presence, his insistent presence in Derek's life and it's fringes is chipping away at the wall Derek has had around his heart. Derek likes to pretend that it's there still, strong as ever when, in reality, it might already be gone for all the control he has when Stiles is concerned.
It isn't safe knowing Stiles' heartbeat in a crowd. It isn't safe to be able to smell his lingering scent days after he's been somewhere. It isn't safe to feel warm inside by just hearing his voice. It isn't safe to turn and see those golden cinnamon eyes looking at him and want to look back with as much intent as them.
Good thing that Stiles is sleeping, then.
Even when that isn't safe either. Because, maybe, that's even more dangerous. Derek finds himself wanting to get up on the hospital bed and curl beside Stiles and just hold him, hold him and make sure that he's alive, feel that he's not shivering, that his heart isn't stuttering in his chest, even when he can hear it's steady beat just fine from where he's standing a feet away. Derek wants and that's not... that isn't allowed.
Not allowed but still the truth. Derek's gone on Stiles so deep that nothing save death can make him not want him, not need him. He wants to cuddle Stiles, hear his words, silence them with a kiss, with a taste, with a...
He notices that he's taken a step toward the bed without even noticing.
And how can his thoughts even stray there when Stiles is in a hospital? How can they go down that road when Stiles needs nothing more then recuperation?
The unnatural snowstorm howls outside the hospital, rattling the windows as it spews more and more snow all over Beacon Hills. Derek has a stray thought that he should be worried about that, he really should be. Because it's now reached eight feet deep and it's more than a fluke, it's so out of the norm that it's off the chart of anomalous weather patterns. But his only thoughts on the unnatural snowstorm are that it almost killed Stiles.
“I know you're there...”
Stiles' voice makes Derek startle, because he hadn't even registered the slight uptick of his waking heartbeat, granted, the boy still sounds severely sleep-groggy.
“Go back to sleep, Stiles...”
“Well, you stop creepering and maybe I will.”
“I'm not ---”
“Yes, yes you are.”
Derek can see Stiles in the dark, still laying down on the bed, snuggled into his blanket, head turned Derek's way even when his human eyes can't see him. Derek sighs.
“Go back to sleep,” he tells Stiles, turning around to leave. Because he should, he really, really should. Go. Before he does something stupid like actually climb on the bed with Stiles and snuggle him. And he did not just think about snuggling.
“How many feet of snow are there?” Stiles counters with and Derek groans.
Of course Stiles won't just go to sleep when told to, who was he even trying to kid when he'd spoken the words? He answers anyway because he has no reason not to.
“It's eight feet now. It isn't natural, this much snow.”
“Tell me about it,” Stiles intones and sighs deep, “I've convinced myself it's been sent here to Beacon Hills to try and kill me. Because my doctor's can't seem to figure out why I seemed like I'd been buried in the snow for almost a whole day or something, when it was only a shortish while until you found me.”
And Derek turns back on his heel, facing the bed again. Because it's unacceptable, really it is, that someone should be after Stiles.
“Well find out what it is,” he tells Stiles. And with that, he finally lets go of a small bit of his resistance.
Day/Theme: 8.Waiting to die isn't living.
Series: Teen Wolf
Characters/Pairing: Derek, Stiles
Rating: G
Derek knows full well what he deserves and what he doesn't.
Stiles fit in the latter category even when he's crawled under Derek's skin, even when, sometimes, he seems to be all that Derek thinks about. Well, when he's not thinking about basic things like survival and how he got his whole family quilt because he'd thought with his dick. Although he might know that that last one isn't entirely true, knows that Kate probably would have had a go at his family even if Derek hadn't fallen at her feet, begging for whatever attention she deigned to give him.
Derek knows this.
It doesn't make his self-hate any less constant. It's why he thinks he doesn't deserve to be cared for. It's why he finds it so fucking hard to care for others, let them care for him. Because, in the end, you can't really trust anyone. Caring is dangerous because it leads to trust. Caring breaks you. Trust breaks you. And then, all you have left is revenge but when that's all done with? What is there in life but striving to survive as best as you could before your inevitable death caught up with you?
Yet, here he is, standing still amidst the fading glamor of hospital machinery mixed with the groans and hisses of humans dying slow drawn-out deaths, until all those other noises face away and all he can hear is the steady thrum of Stiles' heart, the soft in-out rhythm of his steady breathing.
Derek is there because he can't be a good man, he can't keep away from this ridiculous loud boy who holds such sway over his emotions, his decisions. Because Stiles' mere existence, his presence, his insistent presence in Derek's life and it's fringes is chipping away at the wall Derek has had around his heart. Derek likes to pretend that it's there still, strong as ever when, in reality, it might already be gone for all the control he has when Stiles is concerned.
It isn't safe knowing Stiles' heartbeat in a crowd. It isn't safe to be able to smell his lingering scent days after he's been somewhere. It isn't safe to feel warm inside by just hearing his voice. It isn't safe to turn and see those golden cinnamon eyes looking at him and want to look back with as much intent as them.
Good thing that Stiles is sleeping, then.
Even when that isn't safe either. Because, maybe, that's even more dangerous. Derek finds himself wanting to get up on the hospital bed and curl beside Stiles and just hold him, hold him and make sure that he's alive, feel that he's not shivering, that his heart isn't stuttering in his chest, even when he can hear it's steady beat just fine from where he's standing a feet away. Derek wants and that's not... that isn't allowed.
Not allowed but still the truth. Derek's gone on Stiles so deep that nothing save death can make him not want him, not need him. He wants to cuddle Stiles, hear his words, silence them with a kiss, with a taste, with a...
He notices that he's taken a step toward the bed without even noticing.
And how can his thoughts even stray there when Stiles is in a hospital? How can they go down that road when Stiles needs nothing more then recuperation?
The unnatural snowstorm howls outside the hospital, rattling the windows as it spews more and more snow all over Beacon Hills. Derek has a stray thought that he should be worried about that, he really should be. Because it's now reached eight feet deep and it's more than a fluke, it's so out of the norm that it's off the chart of anomalous weather patterns. But his only thoughts on the unnatural snowstorm are that it almost killed Stiles.
“I know you're there...”
Stiles' voice makes Derek startle, because he hadn't even registered the slight uptick of his waking heartbeat, granted, the boy still sounds severely sleep-groggy.
“Go back to sleep, Stiles...”
“Well, you stop creepering and maybe I will.”
“I'm not ---”
“Yes, yes you are.”
Derek can see Stiles in the dark, still laying down on the bed, snuggled into his blanket, head turned Derek's way even when his human eyes can't see him. Derek sighs.
“Go back to sleep,” he tells Stiles, turning around to leave. Because he should, he really, really should. Go. Before he does something stupid like actually climb on the bed with Stiles and snuggle him. And he did not just think about snuggling.
“How many feet of snow are there?” Stiles counters with and Derek groans.
Of course Stiles won't just go to sleep when told to, who was he even trying to kid when he'd spoken the words? He answers anyway because he has no reason not to.
“It's eight feet now. It isn't natural, this much snow.”
“Tell me about it,” Stiles intones and sighs deep, “I've convinced myself it's been sent here to Beacon Hills to try and kill me. Because my doctor's can't seem to figure out why I seemed like I'd been buried in the snow for almost a whole day or something, when it was only a shortish while until you found me.”
And Derek turns back on his heel, facing the bed again. Because it's unacceptable, really it is, that someone should be after Stiles.
“Well find out what it is,” he tells Stiles. And with that, he finally lets go of a small bit of his resistance.