CHASING. IS THAT YOU, CHASING đ *throws self off cliff*
All right, Lovely. You were first, and you were so sweet⌠So here you are, my dear!
~~~~~~~~~
           The idea was glacially slow when it began, burrowing under his skin before he knew what it really was. He made a guess, the day that Stiles brought home that little flea-ridden, mangy kitten and Derek had to sit by and watch him care for it day after day. Seeing that soft smile on Stilesâ face, the way his longer fingers waved in the air above the now vibrant, playful kitten, Derek came to recognize the feeling.
           It was love and it was longing and it was pack.
           It was the lazy Sunday morning haze, the stroking of Stilesâ fingers down the line of his spine. It was the love the human practically radiated, warm under Derekâs palm, and how badly Derek wanted to shape something new with him. Create something solid with him, something lasting. Something theirs.
           âStiles,â he said softly and he could hear the stir of Stilesâ heartbeat beneath his skin as he struggled closer to consciousness. Sleeping in was Stilesâ favorite indulgent luxury.
           âMm?â Stiles hummed in answer, carding his fingers through Derekâs hair and kissing the crown of his head. âBreakfast?â
           âDo you ever think about kids?â Derek asked, before he lost the nerve.
           âNot for breakfast,â Stiles said seriously, not even missing a beat. Derek slapped his belly, but gently, because Stiles was chuckling at him.
           âIâm serious, Stiles,â he chided, rolling just enough that he could see Stilesâ face.
           Stiles scoffed, because he knew it was a serious question, he just didnât have an answer. Not one like Derek was asking for anyway. âI do,â he admitted quietly. âI mean, I think about it. What it would be like to have a little⌠cheeky pup running around. But you know we canâtâŚâ He just let it trail off there, because of course Derek knew. âI mean, unless I really missed something in Werewolf Anatomy 101.â
           âYou didnât,â Derek assured him. âBut⌠we could adopt one.â
           âBaby shopping,â Stiles said, like it was impressive. Derek rolled his eyes. âOkay then, boy or girl?â
           Derek looked at him them, because it sounded like he was serious, like he was asking for real and Derek just hadnât given it that much thought. âI⌠I donât know,â he said honestly.
           Stiles smiled softly, tilted his head in consideration. âIâd like to see you with a little girl,â he said finally. âI bet youâd have the biggest soft spot for a little girl. Youâd sit at her table with her tiny little pink tea set and wear a big, pink, old-lady hat and a fluorescent boa. I will take so many picturesâŚâ
           Derek groaned, but the noise caught in his throat because Stiles had said will. âYou really⌠you really think we could do it?â he asked hesitantly.
           âYeah,â Stiles said, more a conclusion than an answer. âOkay, like, not today, we have plans with my father, but we can look into it. Together.â
          A slow smile spread across Derekâs face until he couldnât help but lean forward, press his lips to Stilesâ in a quick kiss. Then he tucked himself back against Stilesâ side, resting his head on Stilesâ shoulder. âTogether,â he agreed, closing his eyes.
Stiles hesitated while pulling his pants back on. âWell, Iâve got, you know, things tomorrow, and Iâm sure youâve got things tomorrow, so it would probably be better if I just, you know, stayed at my own place. You know?â
God, how many times had he said âyou knowâ in the past thirty seconds?
Derek propped his head up on his hand and regarded him steadily. He was still naked, the bed sheet pulled up to just over his waist. âYou donât have to stay,â he said quietly. âBut you also donât have to leave.â
That wasnât true. He had to leave. He had to get out of here before Derek realized how freaking gone Stiles was on him, before Derek realized that Stiles could not, in fact, handle a one-night stand like a goddamn adult. Or at least, he couldnât handle a one-night stand with Derek like a goddamn adult.
But Derek was still justâŚlooking at him. While Stiles was familiar with a lot of Derekâs looks, this one was different. And he couldnât quite figure out how.
âDo you want me to stay?â Stiles asked before he could lose his nerve.
âI wouldnât have offered if I didnât,â Derek said. âBut itâs up to you.â
Stiles closed his eyes. He wanted to stay so badly. But⌠âAre you sure? Iâm not a quiet sleeper. Like, Iâll probably kick you off the bed.â
Derek smiled. âIâll heal.â
Stiles slid his pants back off. âThere might be nightmares.â
The smile faded, replaced by solemn empathy. âSame.â
Yeah, Stiles didnât know why heâd thought nightmares would dissuade Derek in any way. He sat back on the bed. âIâŚâ he started, but he couldnât figure out how to end that sentence.
Derek lifted the sheet and raised one eyebrow, as if to say Are you joining me or not?
Stiles sighed and nestled under the sheet. There was one last thing he had to admit, and the best thing to do was to just throw it out there. âI donât think this is a one-time thing for me.â
He whispered it, even though he knew damn well the only way Derek wouldnât hear was if he didnât say it at all.
Derekâs arm settled around him and pulled him close. âMe neither,â he murmured into the back of Stilesâs neck.
Stiles shivered, both at the words themselves and the way Derekâs beard scraped along his neck. âOh. So, uh, does that meanââ
Derek kissed his neck. âIt means weâll talk about it more tomorrow morning, over coffee and breakfast.â
Stiles put his hand over Derekâs. âAnd maybe after round two?â
Derekâs laugh ghosted along his skin. âI think that could be arranged.â
Consider Soft⢠boyfriends Dean and Cas, who went from college roommates to best friends to lovers – just a couple of dudes who are head over heels and also insanely comfortable with each other.Â
Dean, especially, enjoys teasing Cas, because his boyfriend is the most deadpan person he knows, and getting him all riled up can lead to adventures that involve a little growling and manhandling.
Then, one day, theyâre out on a beach, Cas walking along the shore and Dean taking pictures. The sun is setting and Cas looks gorgeous, so, of course, Dean tells him, âBabe, youâre blocking the view!â
Cas turns around, his expression amused, his hair beyond repair but artfully so. âI am the view,â he says nonchalantly, with the easy confidence Dean is stupidly into. Dean can feel himself blush but he rolls his eyes and raises his phone to cover his face. He can hear Casâ laughter, warm and gentle, and he switches to video to capture it.
The joke becomes a favorite for its versatility, with Dean recycling it at museums or during walks in the park, or when Cas blocks the T.V. when theyâre lounging at home. Cas indulges Dean each time it happens, his eyes crinkled fondly like heâs the lucky one.
Before they know it, a year passes by, and theyâre back at the beach on the first day of summer. Dean walks around with his new camera that heâs just splurged on, enjoying the soft give of the sand beneath his feet. When he returns to their spot, he says to Cas as usual, âHey, handsome, youâre blocking the view.â
Cas turns around, his smile wide, and this time, he steps aside.
âOh,â Dean lowers his camera, his heart pounding as fast as the first time they kissed. Because behind Castiel is a message in the sand. Four simple words.
29. âhow much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?â
âHow much money,â Derek rolls his eyes, âwould you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?â Stiles was leaning his chin on the palm of his hand, eyes lit up but the morning light filtering through the windows along the wall. He was gorgeous and didnât seem to have a clue how it affected him.Â
âAt least half my inheritance because the seat you sitting on is attached to the desk,â Derek tells him in a bored voice. Rolling his eyes and ignoring the tug in his cheek urging him to smile when Stiles looks down at the bar connecting the chair to the desk, the one he had been leaning his elbow on just seconds ago.Â
âHow about a date?â Stilesâ grin grows when Derek jumps at the words. Heâs looking at him so intently, all bright eyes and disheveled hair.Â
âW-what?â Derek stumbles over it, trying to recollect the calm demeanor he had mastered for interacting with the boy as not to give away his heart melting affections. Lauraâs words, not his.Â
âIf I flip this table right here in class with Finstock droning on and on right up there, you go on a date with me on Thursday.â
âWhy not tomorrow?â Derek ask, eyes trained on the notes he had given up on ages ago when Stiles had started biting his pen and being the distracting menace he was.Â
âBecause Iâm totally about the get detention for today, dude.â Derek squints his eyes at the boy, smile practically splitting his cheeks as he waited.Â
âSure, Iâll go on a date with you.â
âCool, now if youâll excuse me.â Stiles stands and dips a quick bow to Derek making him blush and wanting to smack himself for being so easy. He watches in confusion as Stiles stands and waits until at least half the class is watching him.Â
âStilinski-â
âSorry, Coach, gotta get me a date. And this is the fourth day weâve talked about scarcity and Iâm kinda done.â Without further ado the boy grips the edge of the desk and heaves it up and over. The sound is horrendous in the mostly quiet room, the wood and metal clattering against the floor.Â
âDetention and an entire practice of suicides, now sit down Stilinski.â Coach then returns to his lecture leaving Derek to gape at Stiles like he was some foreign creature.
âI hope I get a goodnight kiss, âcause suicides suck.â
Blinking rapidly as Stiles rights the desk and slides into his seat, only tripping over his own ankles for a couple seconds before landing safely. Stiles turns to look at him, confusion in his eyes, mouth opening to ask who even knows what but Derek doesnât let him get any further.Â
He grabs a handful of Stilesâ plaid flannel and leans in to kiss him. He presses his dry lips against Stilesâ chapped ones, sliding them delicately and slotting them together until he can suck on his lower lip and hear this little sigh that makes his chest melt.Â
âHale!â Derek pulls back, letting go of Stilesâ plaid and only getting to bask in the wet lips and hazy gaze for less than a second before Finstock shouts again, âDetention!â
Derek didnât sleep. He needed to, because heâd been fighting and then injured and then healing for most of the night, but he couldnât. He lay there, propped up on pillows, and stared at Stiles asleep in the chair beside the bed.
It couldnât have been comfortable sleeping like that, and judging by the angle of his head, Stiles was going to have a crick in his neck when he woke up. But right now he was deeply asleep, his breathing slow and even.
Stiles, who had hauled him out of harmâs way yet again. Stiles, who had carted him home and bandaged the wounds that werenât healing fast enough. Stiles, whoâd always stood by him, whoâd always come back for him, whoâd always protected him, even when they hadnât liked each other. Stiles was there for him in a way no one else had been since Laura had died.
At some point in the past several years, his anchor had stopped being anger and had started being this fiercely protective, fiercely sarcastic, fiercely loving man sleeping at his bedside. Derek knew that, and yet, the knowledge still took his breath away.
His heart twisted painfully, and he closed his eyes.
Itâs you, he thought. Itâs always been you. It will always be you.
Derek reached over and took Stilesâs hand, dangling off the arm of the chair. Stiles made a soft noise, but that was the only indication that he noticed anything.
It felt like taking hold of the only thing in his life that made sense.
Derek squeezed his hand gently. âWe need to talk when you wake up.â
The only response was a quiet snore.
Derek closed his eyes and finally managed to fall asleep, this time with a smile on his face.
Just a lilâ Stereky sweetness for yâallâŚ.[pic source]. Title from Heartâs âSleep Alone.â
To Derek, thereâs something extraordinary about Stiles sleeping.Â
Thereâs his beauty, of course, his perfect features neutralized in petulance and amplified by the peaceful glow of repose. There are the lithe curves and muscled lines of his body that Derek knows better than his own, but that nevertheless take his breath away at moments like this. Thereâs his hand curled toward his face, a now-familiar gesture so sweet it makes Derekâs heart ache.
Itâs all that and more that makes Derek stop and stare in awed wonder when he catches Stiles napping, even now, after more than ten years together. But what really stuns him and takes his breath away in moments like this is the world-changing simplicity of it all: Stiles, sleeping, at peace.Â
He remembers it like it was yesterday, the first time Stiles slept in his presence. A late night of research in his old loft, surrounded by empty cans of the disgusting energy drinks Stiles swore by and that finally proved no match for his exhaustion, he fell asleep and began to snore into a couch cushion, a dust-ridden leather-bound book still clutched in one hand. Derek knew that Stiles battled insomnia long before the Nogitsune, and that ever since his possession by the demon he had struggled futilely to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. So he had simply pulled the book from his hand and covered him with a blanket and gone to bed, where he didnât sleep at all, instead staying awake to listen intently to his breathing and the reassuringly strong and steady beat of his heart, his own body tense and ready to jump to action if he should need him.Â
Just before dawn, Derek had heard Stiles wake with a confused start, wrestle with the blanket and couch cushions, swear softly, and then leave.Â
[Iâm so happy my writerâs block is over, I think Iâm going to cry. I really hope you enjoy this!]
–
âI think
sheâs living in one of those abandoned buildings.â Scott says,
scratching his â admittedly â awesome beard. Allison looks at him
appreciatively and Stiles kind of wants to throw up.
Derek
snorts. âYou think?â
Scott
sends him an unimpressed look and Lydia smirks. âKids, please.â
She says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. âNo fighting today.â
âHe
started it!â Scott protests, turning to Stiles pleadingly. Stiles
only shrugs – he wants to get laid tonight and Derek tends to get
bitchy after a discussion. âTraitor.â He mutters.
âCan we
just focus?â Lydia interrupts again. âSheâs living in an
abandoned building and tried to run over Stiles with the car she
stole two days ago. What do we do now?â
âKill
her.â Derek says.
âBurn
her with fire.â Stiles shrugs, waving his cast around. He had plans
to spend his free week having sex all over Derekâs new and shiny
apartment, but instead he ended up in the hospital for three days and
ever since, Derek has refused to even touch
him, scared he might hurt Stiles even more.
His
boyfriend is so stupidly cute, Stiles kind of wants to keep him
forever.
âStiles!â
Scott warns him. âShe was scared! Your boyfriend threatened to chop
her head off the last time they met.â
Derek
shrugs, unapologetic, and Stiles reaches out to pat his shoulder. His
man can threaten whoever he wants, as long as Stiles is around to
see. That glare does things
to him.
âSo?â
Stiles winks, barely hiding his laugh as Scott glares, his own
mouth quirking up. âIn Derekâs defense, she was looking
at me funny.â
âYeah,â
Scott rolls his eyes, âshe was probably wondering why you looked
like you wanted to climb Derek like a tree while he talked about disembowelment.â
âI
thought we agreed on not talking about Stilesâ weird kinks.â Isaac
comes from the kitchen, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the
other. Derek watches him sit on his new couch, eyebrow twitching. The
last time Isaac dropped ketchup on the rug, Derek threw him out of
the house. Literally.
Three
years together and Stiles still finds himself falling more and more
in love with Derek. It still surprises him sometimes, but he wouldnât
trade this relationship for the world.
âI
thought we agreed you werenât going to steal my food anymore.â
Derek says, crossing his arms over his chest. Isaac only smirks and
bites at his sandwich, slowly. Derek groans as the ketchup drips on
the floor, dangerously close to the couch. âFor fuckâs sake!â
âIsaac,
get a fucking plate!â Scott growls, throwing his hands up.
âDerek, stop yelling! And Stiles, just ââ he gestures around,
âstop.â
Stiles â who was staring at Derekâs biceps â smiles innocently at
his best friend. âFine.â He concedes before Scottâs head
explodes. âI accept kicking the witch out of the town. Happy now?â
âImmensely.â Scott rolls his eyes. âDerek?â
Derek steals Isaacâs soda, takes a sip. âOkay,â he says,
âbut I reserve the right to decide what to do with the next
creature that hurts Stiles.â He adds with a sense of finality.
âFine ââ
âHey!â Stiles cries out, indignantly. âNext?â Thatâs
unfair, he doesnât get hurt that much anymore!
âWell,â Derek teases, âyou do like when I save you.â He
smiles, looks around the room as their friends watch their
interaction, amused. âYou said â and I quote â it makes you
âall gooey insideââ.
âWhat â when ââ He sputters, wide eyed, as their friends
explode in laughter around them, âI never said that!â
âYou did.â Derek declares. âTwo days ago when you were at the
hospital. I filmed it.â He smirks. He looks proud of himself, eyes shining and a happy smile on his face. Stiles marvels on the fact that Derek is happy now, and heâs partially responsible for it âI did thatâ, he thinks looking at Derekâs carefree expression. His own heart begins to beat faster and he realizes Derek did the same thing to him – Derek made, makes, him happy.Â
He really wants to keep him forever.
âI ââ Stiles starts, too dumbstruck by his own realization to come up with anything but,
âI really want to marry you.â
7. âWait, no, donât take kissing away from me.â
âWait, no, donât take kissing away from me.â Stiles rolls across the bed and in a move more graceful than Derekâs seen before he manages to swing himself up and around so heâs sitting on Derekâs lap. Derek catches him with his arms and holds back the laugh, never over how rumpled Stiles looks in the morning.Â
âYouâve been grumbling all morning about being tired. I can go do some work or something while you sleep,â Derek shrugs but Stiles just continues to situate himself, wrapping his arms around Derekâs neck and pulling him close.Â
âThat doesnât mean leave.â Stiles proceeds to stuff his face into the crook of Derekâs neck and nuzzles in. Itâs always amazed Derek how wolf-like Stiles had been – craving for physical affection, fiercely loyal, cunning and brave. But the past couple of years of dating and especially the last few months living together have only amplified it.Â
âSo, you donât want me to go workout?â Stiles groans, making Derek laugh but he tips back and gently settles them onto the bed.Â
âYou know I love watching you get all sweaty but no,â Stiles peppers little kisses along his throat and Derek has no hesitancy in tipping his head back further. âI want you right here, kissing me and cuddling.â
âOkay, I can do that.â He holds Stiles that much tighter and presses kisses into his disheveled bedhead.
I know a lot of people canât handle todayâs news and thatâs ok. I havenât read much fic lately, but hereâs a list of âfeel goodâ fics I read recently. if you need an escape for today and the days to come â¤
Iâm sorry itâs not much, so feel free to add your fluffy rec if you decide to reblog this post to your followers đ
âItâs a haunted house,â Stiles said. âThatâs kind of the point.â
Derek crossed his arms and scowled. âI still donât see why we had to come.â
Stiles gestured to the rest of the pack, where Erica was excitedly dragging Boyd and Isaac through the front doors, Scott was gazing adoringly at Allison and following her in, and Cora and Lydia were walking just close enough together to secretly brush hands every time they took a step. Stiles didnât know who they thought they were fooling. âWeâre here because theyâre here. And since youâre the pack alpha and Iâm the pack emissary, we kind of have to be.â
âTheyâd be fine on their own,â Derek muttered.
Seriously? This whole âpack bondingâ thing had been Derekâs idea in the first place. Stiles rolled his eyes. âDo you want to deal with Ericaâs sad face when we tell her weâre bailing? Because I donât want to deal with Ericaâs sad face.â
âSheâll understand,â Derek said, but his conviction was wavering.
Stiles stepped closer to him. âBe honest with me. Are you upset because you donât want to do a haunted house, or are you upset because this won out over your suggestion of going to pick out pumpkins and carve them?â
Derek ducked his head and grumbled, âWe couldâve done both.â
That was both petty and unbelievably cute. Stiles would not coo over how adorable it was that Derek would prefer to pick pumpkins than go through a haunted house.Â
âItâs just thatâŚâ Derek trailed off.
Stiles waited, but Derek didnât finish. âJust what?â
âWe canât talk in a haunted house,â Derek finally finished. âEverybody will be in their own little groups, and we wonât meet up again until the end.â
And thatâŚokay, Stiles could understand that. Part of pack bonding was, in fact, bonding, so of course Derek would prefer something that would let them do that part.
He took Derekâs hands. âTell you what. Weâll do the haunted house now, Iâll buy hot chocolate for everyone after so we have an excuse to hang out and chat, and then weâll do the pumpkin carving later this weekend. Does that sound good?â
âDo you think theyâll want to?â Derek asked.
âPsh, Iâm their emissary, theyâll do it.â Stiles squeezed Derekâs hands. âAnd theyâll definitely do it when they find out how happy it will make their alpha.â
Derek blushed, and Stiles had to resist the urge to kiss his cheek.
âAnd to sweeten the pot, Iâll hold your hand if you get scared in the haunted house,â Stiles said.
Derek glared at him, but it didnât have any heat to it. âIs that the only way youâll hold my hand?â
âNah.â Stiles laced their fingers together. âIâll hold your hand the whole time, if you want.â
Derek sighed, like he was so put-upon, but he didnât let go of Stilesâs hand. âI guess thatâll have to do.â
Stiles laughed and leaned into him. âDonât even pretend like you donât absolutely adore me.â
shealwaysreads 