#sterek!

Stiles wasn’t cold. Despite the few clothes he was wearing. Only a thin t-shirts and a pair of jogging in this rather cold night for the season. But the effect of alcohol stifled any outside temperature under the heat it caused, making his cheeks burning. And then, he no longer cared about what might happen to him. Being hit by a car or catching a cold; nothing mattered when his limit of consumption was exceeded, something he didn’t usually allow himself.

But not that night. Nothing was good. Nothing had happened as expected, and all that got added on Stiles’ red list of regrets. A long list of errors, things he should have or shouldn’t have done, a list of a sinister, painful and bloody red.

So he had done everything to forget that day; he drank. He drank until he got sick of it, because everyone knew that at some point, Stiles Stilinski loose his good mood to sink into his negative thoughts when he was drinking too much. And these thoughts, mixing with the effects of alcohol, didn’t match at all.

A car passed near him by making his tires squeak to avoid him. It didn’t make him move, or even jump. And what if he got hit? Stiles’ thoughts were misty and he no longer thought normally. He was too absorbed by his regrets, which no longer wanted to leave his mind. He didn’t notice, however, that the car which had almost overthrown him had stopped farther. Nor that the driver had come down and was now running towards him, anxiety mix to anger on his face.

“Are you out of your mind? What are you doing in the middle of the road? You want to die stupid? ” The hoarse voice shrieked after him. He was angry.

“Why should I care?” Stiles replied, covering himself in his feet before catching up. “You don’t know anything, so don’t tell me what I should do!”

The driver caught him when he staggered again, preventing him from falling to the ground and hurting himself. But the latter didn’t appreciate his gesture and repulsed him with a brutality he didn’t know.

“Let me go …” Stiles grunted before closing his eyes and letting himself be carried away by his savior. His head was spinning too much; he no longer had the strength to resist. And his mouth was too pasty to protest a scathing reply.

Stiles didn’t notice the car moving. He had not even noticed that he had entered the car. All he remembered of this brief moment was the sermon his father had given him when he entered god knows how in his house, a sermon that was interspersed with moments of misty silence. He couldn’t remember either going to bed, or putting his blanket on his shoulders. Painful memory flash sometimes mounted on his head, but he tried to bury them as much as possible. He didn’t want to remember, not today.

“Rest yourself …”

The voice was soft, low, almost a whisper that came to tickle a memory. A memory of a person who usually wouldn’t have that kind behavior with him. A person whom Stiles loved more than he thought, more than he allowed himself to. But that evening, his sarcastic barriers that usually held back his overflowing emotions, which hid from others his real feelings was laid flat. There was no more filter, no need to hide.

Then, as he was about to leave, Stiles held out a numb hand to his savior to hold him faintly by the sleeve of his leather coat.

“You should have hit me with the car,” Stiles muttered in a numb, indifferent voice before suddenly dropping Derek’s arm.

The latter didn’t really appreciate his comment. He turned quickly to Stiles, frowning, his jaw so tense that the muscles of his cheeks protruded. He grabbed him by the collar and approached his face near the teenager’s one.

“Never say that again.”

A calm and rising anger appeared in his voice, which made Stiles shudder. Derek was too close and his mind was too confused to think rationally. He couldn’t hear anymore, his ears were clogged, cottony, and all around him was nothing but silence. He only saw Derek’s face, close, his hard lips forming a thin line of anger. Everything else was blurry, and all of his attention was entirely focused on those inviting lips. His deep, repressed feelings for the old alpha rose to the surface in spite of himself. The temptation was too strong. So it was clumsy that Stiles decided to put his mouth against Derek’s, in a coarse kiss.

The wolf’s eyes widened in surprise as he pushed him away, pulling back, a hand against his lips, almost shocked. In front of him, Stiles sank back into his bed laughing with an inappropriate laugh, a totally drunk one.

“I have a long list of regrets you know? But the worst, the one at the top of the list, the one that overflows and drips with red, is not the bad notes, the missed outings, the time I could have catch up with my father, all the crap that I said or did during all of my miserable life, or the bad things that I could have done to the pack, either when I was possessed or in total control of my body, no … ”

Stiles placed an arm against his face, on his eyes to hide his tears that were starting to overflow. Deep, hoarse sobs mingled with his broken voice.

Derek had recovered from the teenager’s action and had come closer during his monologue.

Stiles didn’t know, but hearing him talk like that, openly and painfully because of alcohol was breaking his cold werewolf heart.

“My biggest regret is that I never had the courage to assert myself … I am cowardly and weak, unable to save anyone, not my friends, not you, not even myself …”

The rest of his words were hardly inaudible under Stiles’ loud sobs. He pulled his arm off his face to turn his head towards Derek, his eyes now red by the tears.

“Unable to confess my feelings …,” he finally hardly adds before turning to the opposite side to hide his face from Derek. Stiles caught one of his pillows and pressed it against him to stifle the sobs that followed.

Several minutes passed in the sound of his sobs echoing in the room before he finally calmed down. Derek stepped over to Stiles without hesitation to put his hand gently on his shoulder, turned him on his back and thus have a better view of his face in tears. Stiles had finally fallen asleep and his face was slowly lightening for a calm and peace expression.

The wolf detailed the human face, his eyes closed, his nose turned up, his lips parted, and his moles. Then he stepped forward and laid his lips delicately on his warm forehead. He left them there for a few seconds before putting his own forehead against Stiles’ and closed his eyes with a sigh.

“I’ve been aware of your feelings for a long time, Stiles.”

Derek opened his eyes and smiled for himself.

“I’m only waiting for you to be ready … and I refuse that this moment is caused by alcohol.”

He stood up and left Stiles’ room, closing the light, then turned one last time to look at the teenager.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

A/N: Hey, so I decided to write with more details and complicated sentences, even though I know it would be harder when I translate it, but I was tired of the monotone stories I was writing. I’d really like if you could tell me what you think about it! (This is also my first Sterek fanfic) 

~~

Days later, his dad’s funeral is held outside, the sun warm, the birds chirping, and the wind carrying a slight breeze. It’s fucking ironic, Stiles thinks, that the sun still shines outside.

Derek shows up hours after everyone else has left except for Stiles, who stands still in the green grass, wiling it to rain.

He feels a warm hand on his shoulder.

Derek leaves seconds after.

~~

Stiles thought the apocalypse would have been at least a bit more dramatic. He and Derek end up packing up what little they have and taking his Jeep out of Beacon Hills and heading over to the seaside. They make-shift in an abandoned beach house and, on the first day, stay out in the sand until the sun goes down.

He tells Derek to fuck him harder, harder, harder, until his ass is filled with come and Derek’s eyes turn bright blue. He wriggles back against Derek until he’s hard again and fucks up into Stiles, sweat dripping off of both of their skin. Stiles comes, spurting over both of their chests and Derek fills him up again, burying his face against Stiles’ neck, scenting him.

Stiles pets his hair after and doesn’t get up until it’s morning and he has to clean the come out of his ass in the shower.

~~

Stiles smiles at Derek, as he runs up and down the sandy beach in his wolf form, chasing the sea gulls and yapping happily. Derek runs over to him and pounces on top of Stiles, licking his entire face, tailing wagging happily between his legs.

Stiles laughs, burying his fingers in Derek’s fur. “Okay, big guy, I get it. You’re a big cuddly bear.”

Derek’s tail wags faster.

~~

“No, stop, you’re moving around too much.”

“What? I haven’t even taken a step.”

Derek plants two hands on his shoulder. “The water needs to be completely still around you.”

Stiles sighs, but listens, holding his ground. “Why are we hunting for fish anyway? We have tons of food inside the house.”

Derek smirks at him. “It’ll taste better.”

Stiles does not exaggerate when he says it takes forever for a fish to finally find its way into Derek’s claws. Derek looks at him triumphantly, dead fish hanging from his hand, blood dripping down his wrist and arm. Stiles tells him he’s gross and that he is not going to eat that thing for dinner.

Derek tackles him, throwing the fish into their bucket on the sand.

Ocean sex is… grainy. The fish does taste good.

~~

Derek is a really good cook, but so is Stiles. They take turns making whatever they find in the cupboard and fridge, and discover that they both love lasagna and anything chocolate.

Stiles makes his mom’s special hot chocolate one night and he and Derek drink it out on the deck, looking up at the stars.

Derek makes a chocolate lava cake that his dad use to make when he was little, and Stiles swears he almost orgasms from the first taste.

“Never, ever, ever forget how to make this.” Stiles moans, licking his plate clean.

Derek smiles at him, amused, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

~~

It’s been four months since they made their home at the beach house, when Stiles wakes up one morning to find Derek sitting in the sand in his pajamas, near the ocean.

Stiles makes coffee and walks down to him, handing him a cup, before plopping down next to him. Derek nods his thanks, and takes a sip, warming his hands.

“The fire was today.” Derek says, placid.

Stiles reaches over and holds his hand in Derek’s lap. He’s never felt closer.

~~

Stiles should have assumed that their slight happiness at the beach wouldn’t last. Hunters come, seeking out werewolves for ransom money, and Stiles kills the first one at the doorway before he can even finish his sentence.

Derek kills the rest, telling Stiles that they have to leave before more hunters come looking for them.

They pack up what they need, get in the jeep and hit the road. Stiles doesn’t realize how upset he is until he feels a few tears slide down his cheek.

“Fuck,” He mumbles, hurriedly wiping at his eyes.

Derek reaches out and grabs his wrist. Stiles glances over at him and sees that Derek’s eyes are watery as well.

~~

They end up in Nevada and camp out in the dessert for a few days. At night the stars are endless and Stiles snuggles up to Derek because it gets so cold overnight that when he wakes up, his nose feels like ice pushed between Derek’s shoulder and neck.

Derek is still a furnace though and laughs at Stiles for getting so cold, but covers him with his body anyway, wrapping his limps around Stiles like an octopus.

“Where are we going?” Stiles asks one night, looking up into the dark.

“I don’t think it matters anymore.” Derek says.

~~

They find a cabin out in the middle of nowhere, stocked with food, and a hot spring right next to it. Stiles is so excited that he hits Derek’s arm repeatedly until Derek growls at him, eyes lighting up, and Stiles laughs.

They put everything inside of the cabin before Stiles practically drags Derek outside, and stripping them both naked and jumping into the spring. Stiles melts against the water, and scrubs at the grim on his skin feeling instant relief. Derek does the same and they both swim around for awhile, relaxing, before Stiles ends up behind Derek, mouthing at his wet shoulder.

“Do you feel better?” He asks, fingernails gently scraping down the sides of Derek’s ribs.

Derek shivers before leans into Stiles, nodding. “Yeah… how ‘bout you?”

Stiles hums against his skin, rubbing his own smooth cheek against Derek’s own stubble. “Definitely.”

Stiles reaches down and takes Derek’s dick in his hand, stroking it, just until Derek starts thrusting back into his hand. He pulls back and Derek whines, but Stiles shushes him, wrapping his arm around Derek’s waist and using his other hand to finger at his hole.

“That’s right,” Stiles murmurs, when he feels Derek clench up between his finger. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna fuck you.” Stiles slips his second finger in, Derek’s breath harsh against his ear. “Imma fuck you ‘til you beg for it.”

Derek pushes back against his fingers and Stiles works him nice and slow until he finally hits that sweet spot and Derek moans, sweat gathering on the sides of his forehead.

“Let it out,” Stiles says, thrusting his fingers up again and again and again, his own dick, hard and leaking, rubbing against the crack between Derek’s ass. “Come on, I wanna see you,”

Derek growls and his eyes turn bright blue, fangs dropping from his gums. “Stiles,” He says, chest rumbling underneath Stiles’ grip.

Stiles bites down on his neck, and Derek practically howls, reaching back and grabbing Stiles’ head, keeping him there. “Fuck, faster. Come on,”

Stiles gets three fingers up inside Derek before reaching down and stroking his dick, making him come. After, Derek turns around and slams Stiles against the wall, taking his dick in his mouth until Stiles comes, salty warm, sliding down Derek’s throat.

~~

They travel into a small town a few days later, trying to figure out what else is around them. There are only a few stores open and a small bar where there always seems to be at least five or six people hanging around inside of it. They head over to Wal-Mart where they buy new clothes and a few extra items. Stiles is about to suggest they grab a quick drink at the bar, but before he can say anything, he spots a hunter, gun sticking out of his jacket.

Stiles quickly grabs Derek’s hand and pulls him away, back to the jeep.

~~

Nevada is nice, Stiles supposes, but staying in the cabin for a few months gets tiring, and they pack up, heading north.

“You pick.” Stiles demands, shoving the map in Derek’s face.

Derek sighs. “North Dakota.”

Stiles hadn’t wanted to stay in Montana either.

~~

At first they stay in the mountains, and Derek turns into his wolf and wags his tail happily, rolling around in the grass. Stiles spots a buffalo from a little while away and gasps, marveling at how big it is in real life. It ignores them the whole time they make camp and walks away when they are finished, the sun going down.

Derek sinks down on Stiles cock that night, mouth open in an ever long gasp, breathing heavy. His hips move against Stiles in short, tiny thrusts at first, getting use to the feeling of having himself filled up. But by the end, they’re fucking long and drawn out, slow and sweaty with the perfect amount of heat.

Stiles looks up to see that it’s the full moon and isn’t surprised that after he comes inside of Derek, he holds him there, keeping Stiles cock inside of him until he is too sensitive.

Derek is extra warm against him that night.

~~

Stiles soon demands that he needs a real shower, not one in a river, and Derek drives them up to the closest city.

“Why do I feel like you know where you’re going?” Stiles asks, slumped in the passenger side of the jeep.

Derek glances over at him. “Because I do. My mom and dad use to bring everyone up here for summer vacation each year. First we’d stop and run in the mountains, then we’d come to the city to cool down before going back to Beacon Hills.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It was.”

~~

They bunk down near the edge of the city in an abandoned hotel that still has running water and air. Stiles feels like he is in heaven once he takes a shower, but then Derek gives him a blowjob in bed right after, and yeah, that’s even better.

“We missed the snow fall, huh?” Stiles asks later while they’re lazing in bed, watching bad TV.

Derek nods. “Yeah, we did.”

“Guess we’ll have to wait here until the next one.”

Stiles feels Derek go still beside him, but then he lets out a heavy breath. “I guess so.”

There is a small smile on his mouth.

~~

A month later, they actually go into the city and buy an apartment. It’s a little on the small side, but it’s nice.

“I guess this means we’ll have to get jobs now.” Stiles sighs, on their first night there.

“I have money,” Derek supplies, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Yeah, but what are we gonna do all day?”

“I could think of a few things…” Derek smirks and Stiles punches him lightly on the shoulder.

“Asshole.” He says, laughing.

~~

Stiles looks at the calendar and realizes it’s been one year since his dad died. It’s been a whole year. Derek must remember also, because he makes chicken noodle soup and holds Stiles all day, rubbing his back.

Stiles breathes a little better by the end.

~~

Derek wakes up one night to find that the spot next to him in bed is cold. He stumbles out from under the covers, and finds Stiles standing in front of the kitchen sink, just breathing.

“Stiles…” Derek starts gently.

Stiles turns around and looks at him, eyes shining with a new nakedness Derek has never seen before. He steps closer to him.

“I want to kiss you.”

Derek feels his heart skip a beat, and he’s frozen for a second. Stiles eyes are wide with fear.

Derek reaches out and gently cups one side of Stiles’ face. “I want to kiss you, too.”

Stiles slowly reaches out and grabs onto Derek’s upper arms, steadying himself. Derek supposes that they meet in the middle and when their lips touch, he has never felt anything more sweet. His heart clenches up inside of him and his blood boils at the contact. Stiles lets go after one chase kiss, before leaning back in and kissing him again. Derek opens his mouth up to him and Stiles licks his way in, tiny sighs escaping his mouth.

So sweet, is all Derek can think. So sweet.

~~

The next day, Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and sucks on his fingers, giving him dreamy eyes, telling him to put them up his ass. Derek does, but takes his time, slowly, kissing Stiles because he can, he can, only starting with one finger. He pushes Stiles sweats down his legs, holding him around the waist with one hand, the other, finger sliding into his hole.

Stiles moans against him mouth when Derek finally enters him, hands clutching at Derek’s shoulders, pressing his half hard cock against Derek’s own. Stiles breathes against his lips, not really kissing him, but just pressing for a few seconds before he tilts his head up, gasping every few minutes.

“Yes,” Stiles says, breathlessly. “Just like that.”

Derek rubs himself against him, adding another finger, and bending down to press hot, open mouthed kisses against Stiles’ neck.

Derek doesn’t know how long they stand there in the middle of the living room, rubbing themselves against each other, Derek’s fingers inside of Stiles, but he doesn’t want it to end. God, he doesn’t want it to end. Stiles is squirming against him, letting out these tiny, breathless noises, one hand sliding down to push at Derek’s own sweatpants and sucking in a sharp breath when their cocks rub up next to each other, skin on skin.

“God, look at you,” Derek says, getting three fingers inside of him. “You’re a mess.”

Stiles groans, pushing back against Derek’s fingers and reaching down again to get both of their dicks in his grip. “You’re so worth it.”

Stiles strokes them until they come, holding tight against one another, keeping each other both up right.

Stiles smiles at him and kisses him like he is promising something. A forever, maybe. Derek wants to give him a forever.

~~

The first time it snows, Stiles runs outside and onto the street, spreading his arms out wide, laughing. Derek smiles from the sidewalk, remembering his own reaction when he had first seen snow, dragging his mother outside to see the fairy dust falling from the heavens.

“It’s snowing!” Stiles exclaims, turning around in circles, arms waving around. “It’s fucking snowing!”

Stiles loses his balance, suddenly, but Derek runs over to him and grabs him before he has a chance to fall down. “I would love it if you didn’t break your scull open.”

Stiles disregards him, and leans in, pressing his cold lips against Derek’s.

“It’s snowing.” Stiles whispers.