eeyore9990:

For @leelathecat. Happy birthday, bb!!

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Read here or at AO3

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For all that Stiles had enjoyed calling Derek’s betas puppies, in actuality he had been the one most resembling such a creature: all big, brown, expressive eyes, full cheeks, and a body he didn’t seem to have read the instruction manual on. He’d been all long, twitchy fingers and spastic limbs with a mouth that rattled on without regard for concepts like thought or even safety.

Which was why seeing him now was such a shock to Derek’s system.

If Stiles was excited or nervous or surprised at seeing Derek after all these years, Derek couldn’t tell. His scent was a blank, giving away nothing. His heartbeat was steady, less jagged than it had been as a teenager, either owing to the lack of medicinal smell or due to… Derek shied away from thoughts of why. He knew he didn’t get to do that. Not after running away and leaving the mess of Beacon Hills to a bunch of frightened – but so brave – teenagers.

“Derek,” Stiles had said with a simple little nod when Derek had stumbled to a halt upon entering the coffee shop all those minutes ago, no surprise in his tone to match the stomach churning shock Derek was feeling. Just a dip of his chin in bland acknowledgement after three years of silence. There was nothing in his tone or posture to help Derek navigate this situation.

Because the Stiles standing before him was not a puppy. Those eyes that used to glow with happiness and roll with sarcasm were steady now, hard and dark. They took in everything without blinking. Those once-full cheeks were hollowed, not by starvation but by the realities of life.

The inevitability of death.

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