eeyore9990:

Timestamp ficlet for Ignite Your Bones.

For @prettyinsoulpunk

–

Derek watched Stiles, watched how he moved – more fluidly now, less as if he were holding himself tight inside his own skin. He would never again be the flailing, gangly teenager he’d once been, but Derek had stopped wishing for that months ago.

Stiles was no longer a teenager, after all. Even with all the horror he’d experienced stripped away, there was no reason to expect to look at him and see one.

But the mountains had worked their magic on him, just as they had on Derek. He was easier now. Relaxed. Not cataloguing their surroundings or the people in town with the same sharp-eyed focus.

There was only one thing that still weighed on Derek.

Reaching up, Derek wiped a smear of chocolate from Stiles’ upper lip, meaning to do it quickly, but his thumb lingered, slid along the shiny line of the scar that started just below the edge of Stiles’ nostril and cut sharply down toward his chin, neatly splitting those pretty pink lips. “It wasn’t a claw,” he murmured, almost to himself, then dropped his hand and backed away, an apology on his lips when Stiles drew in a sharp breath.

Stiles didn’t let him say anything, though, his eyes flickering to the floor as his hand came up, shielding his mouth from view. “It was a sword.” He met Derek’s eyes again, something like resignation and a dull acceptance in his expression, misery in his scent.

“Stiles.” Derek reached up, took back one of the steps, erasing the distance between them, but the damage was done.

“A katana.” Stiles wiped the back of his hand across his mouth with a grimace. “After… they came to town to create the Chimeras, they did something to Kira.”

Derek went still, every sense alert. Stiles never spoke of them by name, too afraid that if Derek knew what they were, it would summon them. It always made him suspect demons, but when he’d said that, Stiles had just laughed, a bitter, broken sound.

“Before, she had a sort of symbiotic relationship with her kitsune spirit. After… it would take over. Possess her.” Stiles rubbed his finger over the scar, then ducked his head, shoving his hand into his back pocket. “One time, it saw me. Thought I was…” He swallowed, the sound heavy in the silence of the room.

“Stiles, you don’t have to–”

“But her mom was there,” Stiles said, his voice harsh as he interrupted. “She heard it say that it would cut the lies from my mouth. She… she stopped it in time. But the katana came down anyway. Objects in motion…” Stiles shrugged.

Derek didn’t know what to say. What was there to do but stand and stare, eyebrows furrowed, as Stiles’ shoulders inched up.

“So that’s it, huh?” Stiles finally asked, sounding so very weary.

“What?”

“That’s why you won’t touch me?” When Derek just stared at him in ahock, Stiles huffed out a sharp snort. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. Like I’m… something to keep. But you never touch me. Is it because I’m–”

Derek didn’t let him finish that question, just stepped forward, hands already reaching up to cup Stiles’ face, thumbs glancing across his sharp cheekbones – and leaving a trace of chocolate on one. He swallowed whatever idiocy Stiles had planned to follow that up with, his tongue tracing Stiles’ lips and delving inside when they parted.

When they finally paused for breath, Derek whispered against Stiles’ cheek. “I was afraid to touch you. At first because it seemed like you might shatter. And then because… I knew if I touched you even once, I’d never stop.”