#derekw

“ Now sad in reflection did I gaze through perfection

And examine the shadows

On the other side of the morning”

Word Count: 379

Scott x Derek

Loud, incessant banging on the door at 5AM in the morning is not what Derek needs. What he needs is three more hours of sleep and a huge cup of coffee.

“If someone isn’t dead there’s no reason t-.” The boy from downstairs is standing in the doorway, with nothing but slightly too tight boxers on and messy hair, Derek thinks he’s drooling before he ever reaches his eyes. Scott, his brain helpfully supplies, is beautiful.

“Did you leave your shower on or something? My apartment is freaking flooded. My bed is floating right now.” Derek runs into his bathroom, painfully aware of his own lack of clothing and the way Scott’s eyes seem to be burning holes into his ass.

YAY I LOVE THIS ONE I FINALLY GOT TO DO IT.

Derek still feels his breath ghosting on his neck, making a home there like he’s always belonged.

Still hears his laugh sometimes, loud and brash and everything that Stiles was to him.

The phone calls always come at the same time, always breathless, always drunk like Stiles can’t stand talking to him with his mind in the right place.

Derek still finds socks under his bed, hats in his closet. By the end of the month he has a huge pile of Stiles’ shit in a corner of his room, feels more like a shrine.

“Derek, do you miss me?” He asks, almost moaning into the phone. It makes Derek dizzy, high off of everything that Stiles does to him.

He hangs the phone up before Derek can answer, before Derek can even think of an answer.

Derek still drinks his coffee with honey, even after the shrine in his room gets sent away with Scott’s help.

Still watches every Mets game, even if seeing Bartolo on the plate makes him sick to his gut.

“Are you fucking anyone else?” Stiles asks three months later, he sounds sober for once and it breaks his heart like nothing else.

“No, are you?” He’s sure his nerves might kill him as he waits for Stiles to answer, hears him licks his lips and sigh.

“Do you miss me?” Derek’s chest clenches up and he doesn’t have the words that he knows Stiles’ wants.