rhysiana:

Sterek | 1713 words | T | Break Up/Make up | Also on AO3

I used to put my hand in your pockets
(holding on)
The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you’re still gone)
Slip it on over my shoulders
Someone I’ll never get over
Makes me feel a little bit closer to you

I can’t keep your love
I can’t keep your kiss
Gave you everything and all I got was this

I’m still rocking your
hoodie
And chewing on the strings
It makes me think about you
So I wear it when I sleep

-Hey Violet, “Hoodie”

---

Winter break, freshman year

Stiles knocked on the door of the
townhouse and then looked around as he waited, bouncing on his toes and
grinning at how normal it all looked.

“Dude,” he said as he heard the
bolt get thrown back and the doorknob start to turn, “I heard you were back in
town. When did you go all suburban on us?” And boy was he glad his mouth was
still capable of carrying on without direction from his brain, because he was
not at all prepared for a Derek Hale who answered his door in track pants and a
hoodie only half zipped up, no shirt underneath. Stiles appeared to have
interrupted him mid-workout, judging by his sweaty hair, and honestly, how dare
the guy still be so good-looking, now with the addition of apparently being on
speaking terms with the concepts of relaxation
and comfort?

Fuck
me, he thankfully did not say out loud, although the phrase was certainly
applicable. In multiple ways. Dammit.
He hadn’t seen the guy in over a year and a half; he was supposed to be over
this.

Derek blinked at him, and then a
slow smile spread across his face. “Stiles.” He stood back and held the door wider.
“Come in. Home on break, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answered absently,
neck already craning to take in as much of Derek’s new place as he could. The guy
had furniture now! And whole walls! “All my exams fell early in the week, so I
got in yesterday. But Scott’s not back yet, and my dad is working, so I figured
I’d see if the rumors of your return were true. Oh my god, you actually have a
TV!”

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