Not that he spends a lot of time daydreaming about what his and Stiles’ first kiss is going to be like, because he doesn’t. He probably would if it hadn’t been for how he keeps denying himself that train of thought like a plague.
He knows how Stiles feels; has known for a while now. The way his heart skips a beat even at the simplest touch, the way his eyes linger whenever they spot each other from across the room. It’s not just attraction, because if it was Derek would’ve been scared. Well, more scared than he already is, because the fact that Stiles’ heart pounds with something as warm and soft as affection for him is downright terrifying.
And he knows how he feels. He feels vulnerable.
But the few times when he does think about it – those lonely nights when he’s on the brink of sleep and can’t keep himself from going down that road no matter how hard he tries not to – he pictures it being desperate. On the edge of a battlefield, after they’ve survived another fight, when he’s too exhausted and relieved to keep his guard up. He pictures himself hauling Stiles in by the collar of his shredded shirt and slamming their lips together. Because they can, because they’re alive, and because it’s what they want.
Derek expects their first kiss to taste of blood, because that’s who they are.
It’s a little over a year later when the Sheriff finds out. He’s just pulled into the driveway and is stepping out of his cruiser when the front door swings open, revealing Stiles and Derek, laughing and entirely engrossed in one another. The laughter quiets and the looks soften, and a kiss goodbye is shared. A kiss that’s the likes of which the Sheriff remembers sharing with his wife, once upon a time. It makes his heart ache a little, but it’s more of the good ache than the bad.
Derek turns, and that’s when he’s noticed, leaning against his car with a lifted brow.
“Oh, fuck,” Stiles blurts out, and then claps a hand over his mouth awkwardly. The Sheriff can’t help but snort at that.
“Sir, I -” Derek starts, and he cuts him off abruptly with a lifted hand.
“Son, if you think I haven’t known about this for…oh, the past few months, you must think I’m a complete idiot,” he says evenly.
“Wait, you've known?” Stiles cuts back in, and his dad rolls his eyes.
“Go inside, Stiles,” he returns pointedly. Stiles hesitates, and he levels him with a looks. “Now.” He grits his teeth; does what he’s told, but he peeks out the front window worriedly.
Derek looks tense and wary, and the Sheriff smiles slightly. “At ease,” he tells him, and his light tone makes Derek relax, if only a little, and he takes a step forward as the Sheriff shuts the car door and meets him the rest of the way.
“You two have never been subtle,” he starts out. “Never. Not even when you both were oblivious, and not even when you were trying to be.” He hooks his thumbs in his belt loops as a crease forms between Derek’s brows.
“Just over a year ago, I asked for your help because I knew my son would be on the verge of giving up and destroying himself. I knew you’d be able to relate to it. And yes, it was selfish, asking you relive all of your horrors to save my son when you weren’t even quite past them yourself. But you did it anyway. You kept a promise to me."
Derek swallows thickly and remains silent, waiting for him to finish, and he steps forward, placing a firm and reassuring hand on Derek’s shoulder. He instantly feels more tension drain away from him. His eyes are sharp and serious as they bore into Derek’s.
"You saved my son. You pieced him back together and got him closer to being whole again than I ever could have done on my own, and I knew - I knew that it would go down one inevitable road or another. I’m not naive to these sorts of things, Derek. And quite frankly, I’m offended you two thought I was.” His smile is crooked and fond, and Derek smiles slightly himself, huffing and looking down sheepishly.
“I was hoping you two would tell me on your own, but I guess this is as good as it gets. Either way, Derek, I need you to hear this and know this - you’ve earned my trust and respect. You earned that a while ago, honestly. Stiles is all I have left, and I trust you with him. I know how much you care about him. You’ve got to know how much that means to me.”
Derek exhales shakily, looking back up to meet his eyes and nod. “I know.”
“Good,” the Sheriff nods back, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. “Now. I suppose I don’t need to go in on the whole ‘if you hurt him, I’ll kill you, yadda yadda yadda’, do I.”
Derek snorts and smiles wider, and shakes his head. “Not really, considering if I ever did, I’d hand myself right over, anyway.”
“Good answer,” he grins, squeezing Derek’s shoulder and releasing him.
“No more sneaking around behind my back,” he continues, pointing at Derek with lifted brows as he walks up to his front door. “I know he’s eighteen now, but this is still my house, kid. Let’s keep that respect a mutual thing, got it?”
“Got it,” Derek nods, relief making his knees a little shaky. His fear of being judged unfairly has never really gone away, no matter how kind Stiles’ dad has been for a long time now.
“Come over for dinner tomorrow night,” the Sheriff adds as he opens the door. “Seven 'o clock sharp. You like Italian?”
Person:Was Paige aware of Derek's intentions towards her when he asked her to the school after hours- did Derek speak to her at all about what he wanted for her, or did he set up the meeting/plan with Ennis without her consent?
Jeff Daivs:She was not aware. But part of the mystery to be resolved is this… did Derek arrange for her to be bitten? Or did Peter do it all on his own?
Me:YEs thaT IS THE queSTION OH mY GOD THAT IS THE WHOLE QUESTION I THOUGHT THIS WAS QUESTION AND *ANSWER* NOT QUESTION AND QUESTION
Crouching down in front of him, Derek tilted his head, eyes raking over Stiles’ face, unfazed by the death glare he was receiving in return. “I really hope your father cooperates, Stiles. I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
Stiles scoffed in disbelief, straining as far forward as he could in his bonds. “Yeah, I’m sure the big bad mafia boss would have a mental breakdown and cry himself to sleep every night if he hurt an innocent child. Oh wait! I forgot, you don’t have a conscience.” Derek huffed a small laugh of amusement, but Stiles kept going. “Guess you won’t have to worry about feeling any remorse if you hurt me.”
His heart was pounding in his chest beneath his false bravado, so loud he was sure even Derek could hear it.
Derek reached out as he spoke next, cupping Stiles’ chin in his hand. “It’d be a shame, though, to ruin such a pretty face.” His eyes bored into Stiles’, heat rising in Stiles’ bones.
It’s a WIP but it’s one of the very few I couldn’t help start reading anyway, and I’m eagerly awaiting the rest :)