Healing the Rift
Author: Daniela
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Sterek
Rating: PG13
Category: Angst, Romance, Humor
Series/Sequel: No
Disclaimer: I don´t own them. Nobody is capable of owning them.
Summary: Stiles and Derek need each other to heal.
Warnings: M/M, Slash
Feedback: Doesn´t scare me. :)
Email: daniforblue@yahoo.de
Released: May 2015
Beta: badly_knitted
Word Count: 1.097
Stiles is fine. Really. He is. The Nogitsune is gone. He got his life back. It´s as simple as that.
No, it isn´t.
Allison is dead. So. Nothing is fine.
Sure. He goes on fighting witches and trolls and fairies. He saves Derek and Derek saves him. He continues to suffer cuts and bruises and even a few scars, though never as much damage as Derek has to agonize through every fucking time. There, there, Zero-wolf.
See. That's the life he got back. The life that sucks.
One of those nights he´s had enough. An unknown creature is dead and Derek gushes blood once more. Stiles screams. He just can´t take it anymore.
"Stubborn. Pathetic. Moron." Well. The wolf got almost ripped apart.
Derek yells back. "Stupid. Human. Idiot."
"I hate you!"
"I hate you, too!"
Hurtful words. Cruel. Unforgivable. Two broken shadows rush off leaving the pack wound up in the dark.
"Wow!" Liam says. "What just happened?"
"The usual," Scott says.
"Don´t they...?"
"No, those two idiots don´t even have a clue they would die for each other," Lydia mutters.
"How long?" Liam says.
"Ages." Lydia rolls her eyes. "Probably will take another century before they finally make out."
No. It doesn´t.
Midnight. Rain pours down on the streets. The boy runs, soaking wet.
The loft. The wolf paces, seeping heat. The door flies open.
"Derek!" Drops of water run down the boy´s face.
"What are you doing? There´s a fucking storm outside."
"My Jeep wouldn´t start. I needed to see you."
"Why? You clearly said what you think of me."
"I didn´t mean that."
"What part? Stubborn? Pathetic? Moron?"
"Don´t you get it? I can´t bear to see you hurt."
"I can´t bear to see you dead."
They stare at each other. Stiles trembles. Derek rumbles deep in his chest. The storm outside roars on.
"I don´t hate you."
"It´s fine."
Stiles shakes his head. "No."
"Go home."
"You hate me?"
"No," Derek huffs.
"Why not?" Tears spill from his eyes and are mingling with the streaks of rain rolling down his face. "Allison is dead because of me."
"That´s not true." Derek makes one step forward.
"It is." Stiles stumbles towards him. Derek meets him half-way and pulls him into a hug. "Hey. Hey. I´m here." Stiles rubs his face into Derek´s shirt, weeping, leaking pain. "´M sorry."
"Stiles. It wasn´t your fault." Derek kisses his ear.
"I can´t lose you," Stiles wails. He clutches at Derek´s arms as if they were a life-line.
"You won´t." Derek kisses him on the hair. Stiles stills. Derek kisses him on the forehead, the cheek, and then he kisses every single tear off of the striking moles.
"D-Derek?" Stiles mewls. His heartbeat speeds up rapidly. Derek kisses him on the quivering lips. Oh. Stiles moans and kisses back. They cling to each other, swaying, kissing. A whole lot more kissing.
"Don´t be scared," Derek murmurs.
"I´m not."
"Good." Derek drags Stiles over to the sofa. They drop on the thing, rolling around, sharing a good deal more sweet, lingering, kisses.
"Please," Stiles yearns. Shyly he plucks at Derek´s shirt.
"No patience," Derek teases. "Why am I even surprised?" He gets his shirt off and starts drying Stiles´s hair with it. Stiles laughs.
Derek cocks an eyebrow and gets Stiles´s shirt off. He moves on to drying Stiles´s chest and belly with it. Stiles stops laughing.
Derek doesn´t stop but reaches for the zipper on Stiles´s pants. "Oh God, Derek," Stiles whines, sounding not one bit sad anymore.
"It´s fine. I got you." Derek scents his neck, nips, licks, and then nips again.
Oh, God. Holy God! "Derek! Please. I can´t...oh...oh Derek...shit...." Stiles comes in his pants. Oh boy. He should be embarrassed. He is not. Derek says nothing. He just gets Stiles butt naked and continues to pat Stiles dry, using his lips and tongue. Oh sweet Jesus. Stiles gets hard again. Derek smirks. "Shut up," Stiles says, cheeks flaming with heat.
"You know how."
Yeah. Stiles kisses Derek. The wolf doesn´t turn mute, though. No. He grumbles and hums. The second time Stiles comes Derek swallows every squirting drop. Stiles cries.
Derek holds him close. "Hey. I got you. I´m here. I´m here for you."
"Me too, big, bad wolf," Stiles sniffs into Derek´s shoulder.
"Are you okay?"
"Are you kidding? I´m more than okay."
"So, you don´t regret what happened?"
"No, of course not. I was fantasizing-" He bites his tongue.
Derek quirks a smile. "You were fantasizing about us?"
"Maybe. Occasionally. Not all the time. Not-"
Derek laughs. A full face happy laugh that makes him shine.
"Shut up." Stiles jabs against his chest, pouting.
"Hey. I´ve been thinking about you since the pool." Derek cuddles him.
"Really? Did you watch me in secret? That´s gross, creeper wolf."
"Is it?" Derek is all smiles.
"Oh my god, you like it when I give you petnames."
"Maybe." Derek licks the shape of a heart into Stiles´s shoulder.
"Oh my god, how´s this even real?"
"I´ll show you real." Derek wrestles him until Stiles is breathless and hard again.
"It´s so not fair you´re using wolf powers."
"Yeah, though you like it."
"Ass!" He moves south and presses his face into the spot between Derek´s navel and penis. He licks. Mm.
"Stiles," Derek whispers, wriggling. "You don´t have to."
"I know. I want to. I need to. God. I need you so much, sourwolf."
"I need you, too." Derek groans. "The magic of your human touch."
Stiles giggles. "I don´t think that´s what Scott was talking about."
"No," Derek snorts. "I spiced it up a bit."
"Seriously? Who are you and what have you done with Derek Hale?"
"You. I´ve done you."
"Ha-Ha!"
Hours later his dad calls. He must have come home from work. "Where are you?"
"At Derek´s."
"Oh?" he breathes. "All good with you two?"
"Yeah. Can I stay over?"
"Sure. I know how much he cares about you, and whatever is going on over there I don´t wanna know - ever." He hangs up.
Stiles gawks. "Oh my God!"
"What?"
"My dad thinks it´s okay for us to make out."
"That´s good," Derek deadpans.
Stiles has a laughing fit.
The pack finds out a week later. They razz the couple a lot. They actually gloat.
Stiles and Derek endure their friends teasing, ungrudging. Sexual healing made them invulnerably to simple banter. Duh!
The Nogitsune is long gone. Allison is still dead. But Stiles is better. Really. He is.
So is Derek.
The wolf who sucks by far better than life.
Yeah.
