❖
Send me a ❖ and my muse will kiss yours.
It was over. It was finally over.
A dead body; wrapped in old, bloody bandages was lying on the ground. Stabbed on the middle of the chest by Kira’s sword. And everyone were afraid of that. Of Stiles’s reaction when the dark spirit was finally gone. That was why Derek felt the whole world fading away from him when he heard the body of the teenager falling into the ground.
Derek ran to his side, the blood of his wounds dropping on the boy’s body “Stiles?" his eyes opened, and Derek finally saw him again, for the first time since he left the town. His amber eyes, disoriented and overwhelmed, stared at Derek before the werewolf leaned forward, giving him a full kiss on his mouth.
It was fierless, desperate and melancholic. It was the encounter that he had waited for so long. He clung to the boy, forgetting the pain on his wounds, because now he had his anchor again.
It had been so long since Stiles had been sane. Since he had been able to look himself in a mirror and trust he had full control over actions. But lately he didn't, not with the Nogitsune inside him. He felt his body go limp, but he heard a voice. It was Derek's.
He flickered his eyes open seeing the other, noting the injuries. He hated seeing him get sliced up by the Oni, but it had happened and he had just hoped he would heal quickly. He was slightly confused as to what had just happened, but Derek's eyes seemed to comfort him.
Suddenly he felt the lips of the others press against his. He wasn't even worried with the fact that his friends were present for the embracing moment. Stiles kissed the older man back, a shaky hand cupping the back of his neck as he did so.












