Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters.

Summary: There is a bittersweet stillness that settles over Beacon Hills after Derek slays the Alpha and Scott now has a silent treaty with the Argents. It's a week after that stressful night and no one has seen heads or tails of Derek since. Stiles can't help but fidget when his thoughts come across the new Alpha. He knows it's dangerous but something inside is pulling Stiles towards the tragic Hale property. He blames it on reckless curiosity now that things are "boring" again.

Pairings: Derek/Stiles, Scott/Allison, Jackson/Lydia, FRIENDSHIP! Danny/Stiles

Rated:T

AN: I believe this is the final chapter, everyone. It's been fun, it's been challenging and it's been a LONG time coming. Thank you for reading.

Chapter THIRTEEN

"Hey Stilinski!" Stiles jumped at the sudden but familiar shout of his surname. Jackson was coming at him with a look of determination set on his always judgmental face. Internally groaning at his lack of fortune, Stiles wasn't sure he could put up with the jock so early in the morning.

And early it was indeed, not even the school buses had arrived yet and mainly the parking lot belonged to the faculty and the dewy fog of morning.

When Jackson was close enough, Stiles didn't hold back, "I never intended for Derek to make you like him. But now, seriously, give it up."

The jock looked shocked at first but then scowled as if offended and brushed it off with a roll of his eyes.

"No, I just—" He paused rubbing his neck in his obvious discomfort. Frowning, Stiles tried not to look impatient as he waited for the guy to spit out whatever was choking him.

"I never properly thanked you for what you did back there. It's been hard getting you alone but— what I mean is…thanks."

Astonished, Stiles' brain thought up a number of witty rhetoric to easily bring Jackson back to his comfort zone of belittling their relationship. But as tired as he was, every single one fizzled out at the tip of his tongue.

Rolling his eyes in return, he said instead, "Leave him alone, okay? That will be the greatest show of gratitude at this point."

Letting a raspberry fly at the mere thought of pressing the matter, Jackson waved it off, "Done and done. It ain't worth being like him if I'm missing body parts at the end of it."

"At least your jock brain can comprehend that much…" Stiles mumbled as he moved forward to enter the main building.

"Hey, wait!" An unexpected hand grabbed his shoulder and Stiles immediately jerked away, "Woah, calm down. I'm not going to hurt the person I'm thanking."

The look of distrust Jackson received in return had the lacrosse captain stepping back to prove his point.

"You don't look so well, are… you okay?"

Stiles laughed sardonically, "Did you really just ask me that?"

"So?"

"I'm fine." He said, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder. He didn't care if the captain believed him or not and made way for his locker. Thankfully, Jackson seemed to get the hint that the conversation was over and put distance between them by taking a different hall.

Time had done its subtle trick and tallied on a week after the incident with the hunters. However, Stiles lived with the reminders that made his experience feel fresh every day. He was edgy, paranoid, and most definitely sleep deprived because every time he closed his eyes Paul was there, grinning, cursing and growling in his ear like a phantom. Not to leave out that he now developed an irrational jerking reaction when someone came in contact with his hands. Exchanging cash, passing a pencil, even high fives were now a challenge he faced.

Stiles couldn't bring himself to research PTSD because certainly he couldn't be compared to a soldier exposed to war or a rape victim. He was just being sensitive. Give it time, he thought to himself. But the tension only seemed to build and now it was Friday. Last night he dreamed of fighting Andy again only this time the hunter was stabbing him repeatedly and Stiles couldn't stop it. That had him up at five o'clock in the morning and at school before the sun rose.

Jackson wasn't the first to notice how sickly he looked. He was able to nonchalantly blame a cold to his father who then proceeded to make soup every time he saw his son between work. Scott knew Stiles wasn't sleeping well but could do little to fix it and all that he could do was reassure his best friend that he just needed time to recover.

"A cold? You're not coughing; green shit isn't dripping from your face. Why are you bullshitting me?" Danny asked yesterday at lunch which had Stiles clearing his throat.

Danny had been hard on Stiles all week, almost returning to their old mannerisms because of Stiles' disappearing the night of the party which wasn't his fault but there was nothing he could do to deny it. With apologies and an offering of free caffeine, Danny was less hostile but still suspicious. Stiles promised his condition had nothing to do with Andy which served to relieve his friend somewhat.

"Don't do that again or I really will hate you." Danny had threatened.

Sitting alone in a dark and quiet classroom, Stiles scrolled through his phone. No messages from Derek. The morning after the sleep over at the Argent's residence, Stiles had been reunited with his phone again by Chris. Derek didn't return and Stiles hadn't been in contact with him since last Friday night. Derek was scarce and everyone seemed to be fine with leaving it that way. It irked him that it seemed everything had been reset like a giant video game and Stiles was back at the beginning of it all. Stiles had sent multiple texts throughout the week and none were reciprocated. It bothered him more than it should now that he had an answer from Derek. He promised himself that he wouldn't return to the Hale property no matter what. His resolve was shaky but his respect for the alpha's wishes was strong.

Derek had promised they would talk. About what, Stiles had no clue. But a masochistic part of him would accept any form of interaction with the man. But Derek's promise could have been just a method to placate Stiles in that moment which he wouldn't appreciate. So the texts became angry at times which yielded the same disappointing outcome.

"Idiot. Liar. Hairy bastard…" Stiles mumbled as he thumbed the text and sent the message unabashedly.

Stiles gritted his teeth when a familiar stinging came into his fingernail and grabbed his affected hand, rubbing it. The memories always brought back the perceptions of his torture from that night at random times. It was more irritating than debilitating, chipping at his fortitude.

Sighing as the memory eased, Stiles laid his head down. Sometimes if he was lucky, a fifteen minute nap untainted by his trauma was his reward for the day.

Another week passed in the same stifling and uneventful heap that pooled into Friday evening, leaving Stiles more swayed to think Derek never had meant for them to talk again. As much energy as he expended on worrying about the next time they would meet, Stiles used just as much of his energy to convince himself that it didn't matter anymore. How could he ask anymore from the werewolf when all that needed to be said was done. There had been closure. Right?

His shoulder was bumped by another of equal caliber, perking him up to reality.

"Your turn. Put all your effort into it. If she wins again her head might double in size." Danny joked in a monotonous tone that suggested maybe it wasn't a joke at all.

Stiles smirked at Lydia who held a possessive stance over the air hockey table, crooking a finger at him. Her cleavage peeked out from her tight tank top but his eyes continued on without hesitation. It was strange not feeling anything for that rack anymore but Stiles felt freed from one dead end only to be thrust into another.

"Come on down and face the inevitable." She said confidently.

Taking the proffered paddle from a previously defeated Scott, Stiles approached with self-assured swagger, "All of you are pathetic, letting her win. There will be no mercy tonight, tyrant."

Cracking his knuckles and stretching out his arms for show, Stiles cracked his neck for extra exaggeration. He let Jackson's and Danny's jeers slide off with a middle finger to both of them before putting his game face on.

"Let's do this."

The night was supposed to be dedicated to bowling as usual but Stiles' heart yearned for the arcade that was just a few meters off set from the bowling lanes. With one jest that Stiles could beat Scott at Street Fighter had even Jackson and Lydia in the dark arcade pushing coins in slots. At some point, everyone had faced off with Lydia on the air hockey table and had lost miserably. It was now Stiles' turn to try and break her streak.

With each smack of the puck, banter was oscillating just as quickly between them. Stiles scored the first point which had everyone but Lydia cheering. She quickly gained a point back and so was the exchange in lead for a time and they were now even at five points.

At a sharp return from Lydia, Stiles' hand managed to slip and the puck bounced painfully off a few of his fingertips. He felt himself grow stiff as the pain intensified through his nails. The familiar sound of the puck slipping into his goal was a faraway thing that didn't really register as the pain predominated and memories of his torture sped up his heart. He was close to a panic attack, he could feel it rising as every muscle cramped from being far too rigid and oxygen was too slow going into his lungs.

"Don't regret challenging me now. Get the puck." Lydia's voice filtered through. Stiles removed his hold on the paddle and buried his throbbing fingers into his other hand, rubbing fiercely.

"Stiles?" Scott said his name in a way which conveyed all the worry he was feeling.

Swallowing to push down the nausea he felt coming on, Stiles backed up.

"I uh…" The stares he was getting from everyone made the anxiety worse, so he retreated hastily from the arcade and out of the bowling alley. He ran away from the shouts of his name, not wanting them to see as he made up for the air he hadn't got in the arcade started catching up with him. His heart pummeled his ribs and his whole body was a trembling wreck as his muscles unclenched in relief of the cool night air. He was sweating but felt sweltering even as he blew out his exhaust in wispy puffs rapidly.

He should've known better. But he wanted to make the effort anyway to appear normal. Over the course of the week, Stiles knew that the stress wasn't getting better but had worsened.

"Stiles! What are y—

Scott took one look at his best friend and Stiles knew he now registered the situation. Leaning against the side of the building, he took his jacket from Scott's outreached hand.

"Put it on, you'll get sick."

"I'm already sick." Stiles said cuttingly, that bitterness more directed at himself but he put the jacket on anyway.

"You know what I mean."

This wasn't the first panic attack Scott had witnessed in the past two weeks.

"What do you need?" He asked automatically. Stiles lips curved upward in a little smile as he thought of all the impossible things Scott wasn't able to provide. Time travel, a cure for PTSD…Derek.

"Just tell them I had diarrhea or something, I can't go back in." He imagined the stares he'd receive and the too long gone judgement that would return and alienate him further.

"No way I'm telling them that. Get home safe, text me." Scott said sternly and Stiles nodded.

"Hey, Stiles?" Turning back around to show he had heard Scott, Stiles shoved his hands in his front pockets to hide them from the world.

Scott came closer giving a meaningful look, "You'll get through this. I know you. It just hasn't been enough time since... Should I get Allison to drop me off at your house tonight?"

He always offered since that night at Allison's but Stiles always rejected it. There was no way they were repeating that again. Scott was like an over protective mother since it occurred to them both Stiles couldn't reveal any of what happened to his dad and that made his best friend the only support he had currently.

"Like you said, I'll be fine. Go beat Lydia for me." There wasn't much enthusiasm but Scott wouldn't expect it anyway.

Stiles made way for the parking lot a block farther down, his shoulders hunched in defiance to the cold now weaseling in through his jacket. It was a good sign that he was calming but despair was growing over the failed outing. No matter how much he willed himself to forget the torture, his ignorance on how exposure to such pain was evident. Like a possessing demon, his memories drug him back to being zip tied to that chair. Stiles tried to work out an excuse next time he saw Danny. He would have to collaborate with Scott on that one.

"Stiles?" A dagger sharp sensation sunk into his gut at the familiar voice which sounded from across the street.

Their eyes connected and he couldn't stop from crossing the two lanes between them. A driver he barely registered stopped on clunky breaks and beeped in protest at his reckless jaywalking.

Andy looked caught off guard, his eyes wide and phone half raised in forgotten purpose. He recovered however with a surprised laugh, teeth shining in a charming smile and shoulders relaxing as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Jesus, Stiles. Look both ways when you cro—

Stiles swung his fist, aiming for the infuriating man's nose but Andy only side stepped with little effort. Undeterred, Stiles in all his building rage struck out again, his entire body following his punch. Andy had masterfully caught his fist and wrenched Stiles' hand behind his back turning his attacker and trapping Stiles against the hunter's front.

"Stop trying to hit me!" Andy exclaimed incredulously but Stiles threw his head back, managing to connect with the man's face. Despite the satisfying sound of Andy's pained cursing, it didn't impair him when he forced Stiles' back into the brick and mortar of the building next to them. Stiles' hands were successfully pinned down at the wrists with the hunter standing on his feet.

"Stop it!" Andy blustered again as Stiles proudly watched the blood exiting the man's lip.

"You think this is funny?" Stiles must've been smiling through the panting he was doing. Because he was indeed highly pleased at his handiwork. In fact, this was the best he felt after weeks of oppressing blistering anger, and the adrenaline rushes that manifested out of nowhere.

"Stabbing me wasn't enough?" Andy's grip tightened as he leaned in, closely studying Stiles.

Before he could frankly reply that it wasn't nearly enough, Stiles' hunter sized restraint was unexpectedly removed, slightly dragging Stiles with him. A hand cupped his shoulder to stop his forward momentum and when he laid eyes on the mediator, Stiles couldn't help but stare openly at Derek Hale who's eyes trained a deadly glare at Andy. The hunter was recovering his footing in the street but made no threatening moves forward; his hands finding his back pockets.

"Now, the way you're looking at me is uncalled for. It was your boyfriend who attacked me first."

"Oh really? Should I refresh you on how this all started, asshole?!" Stiles yelled at the top of his lungs, he felt a hand press into his chest as he tried to surge toward the hunter again.

"That's not what I meant. Obviously that's not—I thought this was settled—

"How so? Because I see things very differently." Stiles tried to overcome Derek's hold but it increased as he was lifted a foot off the ground with an arm snaked around his midsection and he was planted back on the ground. Derek's bulk was now in the way of his line of sight to Andy.

"Stiles, stop. You'll draw attention like this." Looking over Derek's shoulder defiantly, Stiles watched Andy lick his injured lip and spit at the asphalt distractedly.

"Why is he here?" Stiles' mind stuttered when his chin was redirected to bring his attention to Derek's eyes with hands he could only dreamed would touch him. He'd much rather focus on how those eyes were the perfect shade of green anyway.

"It's more than what can be said on a sidewalk. I need you to trust me when it comes to this hunter."

"My name's Andy." The man's voice floated in unnecessarily and Stiles tried desperately to restrain from launching into a fight again. It wouldn't be good if a deputy was called.

"Why should I trust you? It's been two weeks and nothing. I guess I'm lucky that tonight was coincidental." Stiles wanted to stop his word vomit from going down this track—really, he did. Anything to not make him seem so lost, so attached to everything involving Derek. But it was pointless really. Everyone knew already how deep he had fallen.

The silence grew long and Stiles regretted questioning his trust in the man who had repeatedly saved his life. It was petty and he was about to voice as such but Derek spoke first.

"Tomorrow. Come over tomorrow. We need to talk, I know. I've just been busy and you knowing why is just as important." Derek said assuredly, releasing his hold on Stiles who just wanted to lean in on the expanse of the man's chest and see if the cold would be stemmed by the simple contact. He wanted to feel Derek's hair on his fingertips as he kissed those lips that always sigh his name and savor the strength of Derek's biceps wrapping around his torso…

"Tomorrow." Stiles agreed quietly, eyes shifting in guilt at where is mind went.

"Just kiss now." Andy said impatiently in the background, making Stiles jolt. He couldn't help looking up at Derek for his reaction at the possibility of a kiss but found the alpha's eyes averted.

"Please remove him from this equation before I do." Stiles deadpanned, balling up his fists when the hunter immaturely stuck his tongue at him.

"I have to go. Come over whenever you're ready. I'll be there." Derek promised.

"Is it really okay?" Derek stopped his progression to look back and Stiles couldn't stop feeling anxious that he may change his mind.

"I want to show you something, so you've got to come."

Interest peaked, Stiles pushed his self-consciousness down. "A present for me? You shouldn't have."

Stiles watched Andy and Derek walk passed him, nonspeaking to their undisclosed location. What the hell was going on?

"Hn! Mhn…" Stiles breathed heavily through his release, hand idly moving, conjuring smaller aftershocks through his body, trying to catch that initial high again. Always, it faded and always, it made him feel ashamed for having done it. Not the act itself but where his mind went for pleasure. He'd make imaginary Derek do things to an imaginary Stiles and vice versa that he would chastise himself for afterwards. But every night was that same internal struggle when the ultimatum was thoughts of his torture or a guilty pleasure that sated him for just a few hours.

He sighed as the last waves of euphoria disintegrated from his nerve endings and forced himself to push away obsessive thoughts of tomorrow. Wiping off the sperm with lazy movements, holding on to the satisfaction of relaxation, Stiles covered up in clean cool bedding and closed his eyes to beckon sleep. It was such a limited window lately.

In the morning, apologetic thoughts will fill his mind and he'd swear it'd be the last time.

It was a particularly warm day that foretold that Spring was right around the corner and Stiles was able to step out in a thin long sleeve grey shirt with an unbuttoned plaid shirt on top, his black denim jeans tucked into his high top sneakers. He failed to squander the butterflies on rampage in his chest and stomach but kept the helpful reminder of Scott's support on replay. He wasn't doing anything wrong by accepting the alpha's invitation to the Hale property and whatever happened today, however the scales tipped, Stiles knew Scott trusted him either way.

He tentatively made his way through town and took in the rural area grow dense with familiar boulders and copses of trees. Those well acquainted sights were harbingers of what lay only a short distance ahead. The Hale property was in sight and Stiles sighed heavily, clearing his throat to make sure his voice would emerge when needed. His palms were swampy on the steering wheel and he was prolonging the drive by letting the jeep roll on idle. It was harder than he expected as all the memories came rushing in of not only the bad, but the good as well.

His anxious thoughts halted when the clearing came into view and he tried to comprehend that the house was gone. All the charred wood, the broken glass even the foundation had been removed, cleaned out. Mounds of dirt took its place along with a couple of construction vehicles in a stasis with no workers to operate them. A few porta-potty cubicles and dumpsters were on the property as well and Stiles didn't know he was holding his breath until releasing it at the sight of Derek's car.

He was in such a state of awe he hadn't recalled getting out of jeep and he had to check to make sure it wasn't rolling off somewhere. Walking over to the empty black car, Stiles noticed it sat near the crude trail that would bring him to the bunker. He thought about calling out, but didn't bother with it; instead making his way into the woods with another look back at where the house used to be. The strong sense of déjà vu was coming in waves. Again, he didn't know what to expect but the anticipation always outweighed the fear.

Despite that fact, Stiles still jumped when leaves rustled off to the side of him, catching his heart in his throat. He had almost passed the bunker but Derek walking up behind, calling his name was a pretty good indication he had reached his destination.

"You came." He sounded relieved and Stiles turned to catch the pensive look on Derek's face, studying Stiles with his human eyes. The familiarity died there and this was all new territory that Stiles had no idea how to traverse. This was Derek in control of his faculties and now they knew each other; intimately knew the other and there was something there as undeniable as lightning blinding a night sky. That same static energy raised the hair on Stiles' arms and had him buzzing from being confronted with the realization and how close the other man was. Two compounds, ready to interact and react.

"Hi." Stiles said unintelligibly, his shyness showing in that one spoken word. His hands felt awkward so he preoccupied them by balling up the fabric of his sleeves into his fists. It didn't help that Derek's staring didn't waver from him until Stiles cleared his throat and sniffed just to break the silence.

"Uh…sorry it's not more accommodating here. I'm sure you seen that the house is gone."

Stiles laughed shortly, "You don't have to apologize. I like it here. When we aren't fighting or killing anyone trying to kill us, it's… I'm just surprised, that's all."

Derek nodded his head, his gelled hair and the lightly stubbled jaw indicating his sense of style was back again but a glance down had Stiles smiling wider.

"Still no shoes."

At their mentioning, Derek's feet shifted his weight as he shrugged nonchalantly, "It's my choice."

Stiles shook his head, "I'm not judging. I like it."

Groaning internally as he stiffly scratched the back of his head, Stiles had to tell himself to stop selling himself to the man. Yes it was true he liked the property he started to see as a sanctuary, yes it was true Derek's aversion for closed toe shoes was endearing but he didn't need to drool over every characteristic Derek exhibited.

"Your hair grew out." Derek mentioned and Stiles paused as he went to sit in front of the bunker door like he used to, it was comforting to sit in that same spot as Derek leaned himself against a pine's trunk.

Stiles subconsciously ran his fingers through it again, feeling the density of his hair which was unusual for him as he was diligent with his barber visits. Comfortably nestled amongst the leaves, Stiles nodded.

"I haven't really cared about such things for a while now, strange huh? But I don't think it looks bad…"

"It suits you." Derek remarked and Stiles had to fight off the flustered feeling growing at the compliment.

"Thanks, um—

"How have you been? Scott says you're doing okay but, is that true?" The alpha had that same sense of responsibility coloring his voice.

"What happened wasn't your fault." Derek's face spoke his disagreement but Stiles was vehement on the matter.

"None of this—your uncle, those hunters or what they did to me—none of it's your fault. Believe me or I'll hit you." Part of him wasn't lying; he had noticed after the events he had become more prone to violence than before. It didn't bother him to threaten a werewolf since said werewolf would consider any hit from a human was equivalent to being hit with a feather duster.

Derek seemed to take the absolution in stride but Stiles could discern there was no curing his need to blame himself for all of it.

Stiles hesitated on changing the subject but he didn't want to focus on his PSTD but bringing up the house was also dangerous ground.

"The house…what are you going to do?" If Stiles even said the words "moving away" he feared he'd be the one to put the idea in Derek's head. He didn't want that, couldn't bear it if he was honest with himself.

"That's why I asked you here, I thought it better for you to just see it first rather than me trying to explain it to you."

"Well you do know I prefer visual aids to help me learn things. But please, elaborate." Stiles said jokingly.

Derek was quiet for a moment but they continued to look at each other trying to convey in the silence unspoken words in minute body language and the subtle changes in the way they blinked or shifted their gaze. Stiles was calmer in the time that had passed through their conversation, and he wanted to make Derek feel as though he could tell him anything; even if it was that he planned on moving away. He still wanted to be that friend he had promised he'd be when he first came here.

"The decision to knock down the existing house was made when Andy approached me with a proposition. The hunter I let live was keeping two children in his custody—those children he made orphaned by killing their adoptive parents."

"The werewolf children that went missing?" Stiles remembered the article but wasn't sure if it was connected to what Derek was talking about.

"Yes. He had plans to enslave them…brainwash them into hunting other werewolves, fighting fire with fire. It was a sick concoction that Andy discovered and he…we couldn't let that happen."

Stiles understood the connection to Andy now, "Of course, they're innocent."

"So Andy suggested that…I take in the children." Stiles' eyes widened and tilted his head forward in disbelief.

"Wow…you're going to do it?" He was in awe at the idea of Derek fostering children. It felt…right.

"I agreed to it, yes." Derek confirmed quietly, still unconfident with his decision no doubt. Who would be confident about garnering the responsibility of taking care of children?

Stiles stood and walked closer to the heavily burdened man, "Derek…that's wonderful! Congrats on becoming a father."

Derek glared and Stiles winced, knowing somewhere in there was a land mine he managed to step on, "I'll be a guardian…a mentor, nothing more."

Stiles laughed, "Sure…baby daddy."

The werewolf rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So where will you be living now that the house is gone?" Stiles finally had to be direct in his inquiry, bracing himself for the bad news.

"Well right now I'm in a motel and the twins are in a temporary foster home until I'm ready for them. I will be meeting with them every week so they are familiar with me by the time the new house is built. It's a delicate process and overwhelming but…it's good."

Stiles held up his hands, "Wait, wait. So you're rebuilding… here?"

Derek's eyes shifted but landed back on Stiles in the telltale sign his patience was waning, "Yeah..."

"And you'll live here, with the brats."

A labored sigh, "Yes, Stiles."

Stiles laughed absolutely jubilated at the news, his shoulders dropping the tension he had accumulated and he didn't remember how long it had been since he last felt so free of worry.

"That's great news." He slapped Derek's arm lightheartedly, his grin so wide it ached his jaw.

Like a Venus fly trap, Derek's lightening quick reflexes caught up Stiles' wrist before it was back at his side. Stiles' smile grew confused.

"Are you really that happy about me staying? After all I've done…how I've hurt you."

Stiles available hand covered Derek's that was encased around his wrist so effectively, savoring the small contact. He knew what the alpha was referring to and his grin returned, undeterred by Derek's solemn repentance.

"You can be an asshole sometimes but don't believe for a second I didn't know why you pushed me away. You were trying to protect me. I've already forgiven you for the past. I just don't want to lose you as a friend for being aggressive with my feelings towards you when you're in no place to reciprocate. Especially now."

It was all true and Stiles was grateful for how clear he was able to communicate it aloud. It was exactly what he needed to say to provide the closure he desperately craved. When he tried to extract himself from Derek's hold, he realized the werewolf had no intention in letting go.

"What are you talking about?" Derek's voice dropped low and the stare made Stiles shiver but he took a small step back and his arm extended between them.

"Why aren't you letting go?" Stiles shook his captured arm.

"Because I have a feeling you'll run off like an idiot."

"That's rude." Stiles couldn't deny it was his backup plan but he couldn't explain and stay unnerved if he was so close to Derek, "I promise not to run. Let go."

Derek's five fingers relinquished the hold and Stiles retreated back to his original spot, still standing but shifting his weight in a nervous manner. This was it.

"You had your reasons for calling me here as I had my reasons for coming back… It's only clear now that what I need to do is to stop having these feelings for you. I need to let you go."

"Stiles…

"You have a new family to start and protect and I'm not sure if I can one hundred percent remove my desire for you out of that equation and just be friends like you need me to. Because I'll jump you… like a rabid dog that desperately needs castration I'll…wait, did I just say that? What I meant was I don't want to make life harder for you.

"Stiles, shut up."

"Because that's what I'll do, one day you're trying to get one of the kids to stop wetting the bed or sneaking out of the house you built for them and I'll be there talking about how much I like you. So until then, I wanted to give you space from that—

"Stiles!" Derek shouted, causing Stiles to startle and quietly complete his sentence, "— and get over you."

"Stop. Talking." Derek ate up the distance between them with silent demanding steps; predatory steps. Stiles stuttered, stuck in place like a deer in headlights as he was grasped at the shoulders and those strong arms bound him to Derek's chest. It was like Stiles had no control over his own body as his arms wrapped simultaneously around Derek's waist.

Unmistakably, Derek's nose and lips were now hidden in the tufts of his sideburn and the crest of his ear and he stayed that way; breathing and Stiles was pretty sure sniffing him in unrushed inhales. Always the werewolf.

"You're making this difficult…" Stiles spoke softly, wanting to retract the words. Why was he resisting?

"Good." Derek growled and that one hot word struck a nerve from his ear down to his left hand that clamped into Derek's button down shirt and further into the pit of stomach where it stayed, creating a sensation of perpetually plummeting down. And in a sense, he was falling.

"I've done something I'm now regretting," Derek continued speaking in a tone that seemed at war with itself between calm and barely suppressed restraint, his soft lips unapologetically grazing Stiles' skin, "and I'm hoping it's not too late."

Stiles' eyes had since rolled back into his skull and his eyelids gently shut as he wanted nothing distracting from what Derek's addictive voice was doing to his body.

"Der—hmm

A warm hand was now under his shirt and stroking the skin just above the waist line of his boxers. It was a good thing those arms were so strong since Stiles didn't know what legs were anymore as he wobbled in their hold. Derek simply closed the gap Stiles had made in his stumbling, greedily filling the space between their bodies again.

"I was wrong to distance myself from you. I only hurt you more and that's the last thing I want."

What do you want? Stiles thought to himself but he was sure he couldn't speak that much. He wondered shortly if he could handle a one night stand or being friends with benefits because he wasn't sure where Derek was going with this.

"Keep talking." He said huskily around heavy breaths, because god if he wasn't hooked to the way his spine lit up with a pleasant sensation that made him squirm at every word the man spoke into his ear. Stiles' own fingers had since traveled upward, playing at the meet of Derek's nape and his hair line in reverence. Even if it hurt not fully having Derek's heart, Stiles wasn't sure he could refuse getting a chance to be closer to the man he loved in whatever way possible.

"I wasn't expecting after all that has happened to me, that I'd ever—feel the way I do right now. For you, I'd kill those who would threaten you. For you I'd end my life if it meant saving yours. I want to protect you, to know you, to hold you… I denied you at first and fought to burry my longing because I was scared to lose you the way I lost…" Stiles surfaced from his lust and held Derek tighter to shield the man from the painful memories of a whole family lost.

"But now…" Stiles' breath hitched when Derek's knee went between his legs and pressured his growing erection and Derek's other hand left no room for opposing the situation since it was firmly cupping Stiles' butt; holding him there.

"Now you're threatening to leave and I feel sick because I'm losing you. Don't go."

Stiles made sure not to move the lower half of his body because any friction would have him humping Derek's thigh. His hands were clinched into iron fists as he tried to think through the overwhelming pleasure that was close to possessing him and he would demand more attention in short order. Derek wanted him. Was it really happening?

"This is more than just friendship." Stiles stated but wanted to be absolutely clear all the same and he got his answer with a tightening grip of his waist and the thigh pressing on his groin dragged upward and coordinated with Derek's hand that forced Stiles' butt into the sudden movement.

Stiles' body jerked and he moaned, seriously, what are legs at this point as Derek moved his lips to Stiles' exposed neck and kissed the raised flesh surrounding the taut tendon.

"Friends don't do this." Derek simply replied against the sensitive flesh of his neck, mutually agreeing that they were past a platonic bond.

Stiles' mind still worked somehow and he went farther to ask, "What about friends with benefits?"

Derek stilled and withdrew his wicked thigh from Stiles' crotch so that he was able to look him in the eyes. Stiles recognized the hunger in that steady green gaze and the question that they held as Derek spoke.

"Is that what this feels like to you?" Derek hadn't completely disconnected his hold, still incasing Stiles' waist beneath the shirts, his other hand resting on the trunk of a tree Stiles had no idea was right next to him until now. The alpha didn't seem upset but did want an answer. He was convinced at this point it had been a stupid concern. He knew Derek and he knew himself.

"No."

Derek leaned in so that their faces were a few inches apart and didn't break eye contact; that stare challenging Stiles to hold the connection. Then he spoke in the surest voice and Stiles listened attentively.

"I've been holding back from you, keeping you safe—from me—from what I want, what I can do. I'm losing that control because for the first time in a long time I'm taking what I want. If you stay, don't think I'd be satisfied with frivolous sex. Don't let it ever enter your brain I'd allow someone else to touch you when you'd belong to me."

Derek's eyes flashed from green to red and back so fast, Stiles' heart mirrored the stutter in his own surprised excitement at how possessive the alpha had gotten. Derek seemed to have noticed, licking his lips and grimacing as he exhaled a heavy breath. Stiles at first thought it was because Derek misread his reaction as fear but the bark on the tree beside his head began to crumble under the crushing strength of Derek's grip. The arm that was still snaked around his torso and the hand that encased his waist was pulling Stiles close again, their hips meeting.

"I need your answer now. Tell me. Do you want this?" Derek looked pained, his eyes dropping to Stiles' lips, maybe trying to spell an answer out of Stiles sooner or was the longing look in thoughts of a kiss? He couldn't help but be drawn into looking at Derek's lips, mesmerized. Was this really happening?

"Stiles." Derek urged in a growl, his death grip on the tree impossibly tight and Stiles could hear the splintering of the wood; bark crumbling to the ground. It was a total turn on that Derek could hold him so tenderly while crushing the life out of something with the other hand simultaneously. He'd plant a tree later to make up for the insensitivity of that thought…

There were no phrases or a single word that could match how much he wanted to convey that yes; he would stay by Derek's side. And so he anchored himself up by holding onto Derek's rigid shoulder, tilted his head and gravitated slowly to initiate a kiss. Softly, he closed his eyes when his vision crossed, wanting to just feel the moment without the other senses getting in the way. It was soft and gentle, an intentional touch of consensual lips that spoke volumes.

Stiles pressed on the kiss only a little, his unoccupied hand rising to hold the side of Derek's jawline; cataloging the feel of facial hair under his touch. He didn't want it to end and the alpha let him continue; accepting his answer with little input to add in the moment. He had forgotten to breathe and withdrew light headed as he watched as his hand slowly trailed from Derek's neck down to his muscular chest between the pectoral muscles. Stiles decided he enjoyed the liberty in touching what was now his to touch.

"Okay." He breathed out resolutely and somewhat breathless, his heart rivaling the number of beats of a hummingbird's wings per minute. The word of his consent barely was out before Derek had Stiles close again, initiating a kiss that was far less innocent but no less passionate. Stiles made a sound of surprise against their lips, his body garnering a mind of its own as his hands went to work on the button down shirt hiding away the most appealing torso Stiles wasn't afraid to admit he found hot as hell. Just watching Derek breathing in his bare skin was arousing. A tongue met his lips which seized his fumbling fingers and short circuited his brain function as he was claimed by that appendage stroking his own tongue slowly and tantalizingly over and over again. Stiles moaned into Derek's mouth, their hot exhales audible in the quiet of the woods.

Without breaking the kiss, Derek's fists caught into his own shirt, violently yanking it off and damaging its integrity but little sympathy was had when Stiles was able to touch the perfectly sculpted mounds of flesh beneath his fingers. Stiles pulled back from their kiss and playfully, he grazed the soft skin, a small smile pulling at his lips when the muscles under his fingers jumped in response. Derek was watching him openly, his hands caressing Stiles' hips, his thumbs moving in delicate circles. Stiles brought his lips to the alpha's right clavicle landing kisses, traveling to the strong shoulder then down to the ribs, between the intercostal spaces. Derek groaned, lifting his hands and taking Stiles' shirts with them in a silent request for them to be removed.

Stiles raised his hands to the sky and Derek removed the shirts, dropping them. Stiles couldn't help but chuckle, "It's good to know you won't be stealing those too."

At Derek's rushed breath that held a hint of sheepishness, Stiles was quick to amend. "Take all the shirts you want, I'm just happy you actually like me back."

Derek closed his eyes and brought his nose to Stiles' neck, breathing in. "Let me show you how much."

Stiles shivered in the alpha's hold, goosebumps rising wonderfully. He wasn't a complete novice to male homosexuality—wait, yes he was. What he meant was that he knew the mechanics. That Derek would unquestionably be topping and that left Stiles more than timid at the thought of losing his virginity that way. Never had he thought he'd be so close to what he wanted but Stiles knew that not everything he wanted was always good for him. It would hurt. What if he didn't like it? What if Derek didn't like looking at him being naked?

Derek had lifted his head and noticed the deer in headlights look on Stiles' face as he thought of all the things that could go wrong. The negative thought wave dispersed when Stiles noticed Derek was smirking.

"What?"

"Your mind is far dirtier than mine." Again, only Derek knew how to conjure a blush so deep from Stiles. The embarrassment was uncomfortable as he struggled in Derek's hold, his face surely steaming from how hot it felt under Derek's knowing stare.

"Asshole..."

"Honestly, I was just talking about cuddling." He said, mocking naivety. Stiles broke the loose hold and rammed his palm into Derek's quacking shoulder; the alpha was suppressing his laughter.

"Shut up…" Stiles mumbled.

"Maybe more kissing—but mostly talking about our feelings and holding hands. But sex! Stiles, you animal…"

Stiles growled and threw his weight into tackling Derek as he was laughing out loud now at his expense. Derek simply wrapped his arms around the accosting torso, letting the momentum knock them down with Derek landing on his back. Still encased in humor's grip, Derek tried to get Stiles to join the laughter by wiggling his fingers against his bare flanks. Stiles felt an abrupt burst of laughter rise, forced out from the tickling and tried to pin Derek's arms down to stop him.

"You're so fucking—stop! I'm worried and you're—

Stiles snorted unexpectedly from Derek's tickling but managed to block those fingers from that particularly devilish spot.

"Derek!" Stiles tried to be serious, his hands grabbing Derek's fore arms and pushing into the ground with most of his bodyweight. Derek's laughter had died down but his lips were still pulled tight with mirth, his green eyes brighter than Stiles had ever seen them as they gazed solely at him. Was it possible he had the ability to make someone happy?

Derek thankfully had stopped trying to tickle Stiles to death, only because he had wanted to stop and Stiles relaxed his hands, tucking his arms into a fold on Derek's chest and resting his head there. He never thought it was possible to imbue happiness in others just by being Stiles Stilinski. Worry, humor, unconditional love…they were obligatory. But this…

They laid there just breathing against each other, Derek holding Stiles in place with an arm draped over his waist, fingers dipping under the band of his underwear causing a thrilling sensation in Stiles. The crows talked overhead, an occasional wind rustled the pines but everything else was still, peaceful.

Derek raised his leg, parting Stiles' legs until his thigh was resting on Stiles' butt. It wasn't much but Stiles felt his respirations grow shorter again and the pulsating in his lower half reawaken. Derek's free hand propped up his head so that he looked at Stiles.

"This is new for me too. I'm pretty sure I have all the same apprehensive thoughts you're having. But, we don't have to rush through all of the firsts."

Stiles' breathing hitched, his eyes losing focus when Derek's hold on his buttocks pressed down to create that friction again and this time he didn't stop his hips from rolling downward; his hands making fists into the pine needles and dead leaves covering the ground of the woods. Derek bucked upwards, groaning and Stiles' hands scrambled, finally finding purchase on the broad shoulders beneath him and he met that thrust with another grind downward, unable to suppress the sound of shocked pleasure escaping his lips.

Their erections were undeniable through their jeans, evidence to each other that they weren't imagining the attraction they felt. That's when the alpha flipped their positions so fast, Stiles lost equilibrium for a moment, lost in a world of carnal sensation.

"But I do want you to cum for me." Stiles head rose up in automatic alarm when he felt fingers undoing his pants. It was strange having someone else undress him but Stiles raised his hips all the same to let his jeans go down his hips, his legs and off his feet.

"You want to as well." It was true as he was twitching under his boxers, so eager. And when Derek's hand slipped into the opening, his fingers wrapping around him, Stiles tensed as he felt the familiar signs of an orgasm blessing him. But Derek gripped him firmly at the base, and had Stiles crying out in a form of anguish at the teasing.

"Wh-wha-why?" Stiles whined latching on to Derek's wrist which didn't spur the alpha to relent his hold. Instead Derek dipped his head and kissed the sensitive spot below Stiles' ear and nipped the taunt flesh playfully.

"Relax, Stiles." Derek commanded, licking and sucking, gently biting Stiles' neck in a rhythm that had Stiles focusing on increasing the sensual attention and less on exploding. He sank slowly back to the ground, gripping the ground with both hands. He opened and closed his thighs in a plea for Derek to move that warm hand. But the alpha ignored the writhing, trailing his lips down to Stiles' collar bones, suctioning his lips, biting with blunt teeth on a heaving chest. All the while, he kept his hold on Stiles' erection as Stiles whimpered and moaned under the man's administrations.

"I'm the first to touch you." Derek rasped and licked playfully at Stiles' nipple he was on eye level with; Stiles looked at Derek who was already studying him with a pleased look on his face. That look that said he had caught his prey. The irritation at Derek's smugness died when that tongue slowly grazed his oversensitive nipple again, Stiles bit his bottom lip to suffocate another moan when he felt that powerful hand stroke upwards on his sex.

His head dropped back down as he lost his will to banter, his hips automatically bucking, trying to maximize the sensation. But on the downward stroke, Derek seized again, his grip almost a punishment.

"Derek! Pl—please. I need to." Stiles groaned at the merciless teasing, his hands resurfacing from the piles of pine needles he had pulled up and grabbed at Derek's hold on him; impatient to reach orgasm. Derek continued to suck a new hickey onto Stiles' pectoral just below his left nipple as he calmly grabbed at Stiles' wrists, raising and pinning them above his head.

Stiles had just as little control of the situation as he started with but only felt exhilaration as he yelped in surprise at those teeth gently biting his ticklish ribs.

"I want to savor this. I want it imprinted all my hunger for you. I want you ravished by it so that you'll know nothing else. You'll see no one else but me." Derek continued to restrain Stiles and looked him in the eye, but before Stiles could say anything, the alpha claimed his parted lips in a demanding kiss that Stiles never thought to rebel against. Saliva traveled down his chin when Derek finally released his tongue and then that impish hand began to move again, Stiles gasping when Derek didn't pause but continued the agonizingly slow paced strokes in a new form of pleasurable torture. It wasn't enough to send him over the edge but pre-cum slicked Derek's hand now. Stiles couldn't stop from groaning at how close he was from losing his sanity.

"Do you have feelings for anyone else?" Derek decided to bring up while watching Stiles squirm under him.

"What?!" Stiles exclaimed on an inhale when Derek's thumb found the head of his penis beginning to shy above the elastic band of his boxers, encircling the slit gently before he stroked back down.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did. Could it be Andy?" Stiles grew alarmed at the thought, even a little offended but emotions were hard to express on his face when he was at the mercy of Derek Hale's unrelenting strokes.

"You think…that I—" Stiles cut himself off as a moan was ripped from him when Derek dipped his head to latch onto his right nipple unapologetically biting the bit of flesh expertly so as to cause the pain that only added to the pleasure.

"Dammit Derek! How could you possibly think I could feel that way for that asshole?!" He rushed out, trying to pry his wrists free in his passion. Just the thought of him ever feeling that way for Andy made him nauseous.

"He knows a part of you that you are shutting me out of. I don't like it." Derek answered honestly, his voice deadly, his eyes still human but the emotion raw and verging on animalistic. But none of it stopped Derek from eliciting pleasurable shocks through Stiles' body from underneath the thin fabric of his boxers.

Stiles began to realize that this was coming from a Derek who was shifting more into alpha behavior and tried to bring focus back to the two of them.

"Derek." That heated gaze possessively traveled up his torso back to Stiles' eyes, "Let me touch you."

The hand holding him down immediately relinquished his wrists and returned to balancing Derek's weight over Stiles. Short of breath, Stiles' hands roamed over Derek's torso, he rose up to plant kisses on the bulging shoulder and along the collarbone. Stiles bit back his apprehension when he undid Derek's jeans. One of his arms then draped over the back of Derek's shoulders; clinging to the alpha as he pushed his other hand down into the crotch of Derek's pants.

Derek hissed and Stiles felt all the alpha's muscles turn to steel under his hold when he started stroking Derek's erection. Watching Derek's pleasure grow, Stiles' apprehension decreased. Stiles enjoyed the feel of Derek's sex in his hand, so large and warm beneath his fingers. Stiles' confidence grew as he withdrew his hand only to add spittle and began rubbing again.

"I love you." He said simply around his gasps, their eyes boring into each other before Stiles buried his head in the crook of Derek's neck, his moans muffled as the alpha drove his hips down powerfully into Stiles' strokes. Derek increased the speed of his hand on Stiles.

Their frantic movements, Stiles' soft moans and Derek's growled breaths were prominent in the forest until Stiles bested all with his startled abrupt cry; his hold body froze as his back arched bringing him chest to chest with Derek. He cried out again and shuddered uncontrollably as Derek sank his human teeth into the crook of his neck. Swiftly, he removed Stiles' hand from the opening in his pants and entwined their fingers and pressed his hips down. His solid weight forced Stiles back into the ground. Stiles rode out his orgasm shakily with Derek dry humping him into submission. Derek's breathing was harsh as he covered Stiles' lips in a kiss, their erections sliding between them.

"Fuck," Stiles whined, overly sensitive as Derek continued to thrust his hips languidly, but eventually slowed to a stop. Derek intermittently darted out his tongue, laving at the place he had bitten on Stiles' neck and Stiles could feel theindentions those teeth had caused on his flesh. He shuddered again beneath the weight of his werewolf, trying to form coherent thoughts. This was real. They had just…

Derek pushed himself off of Stiles but pulled him close, Stiles' forehead pressed into Derek's shoulder as he draped an arm over the larger man's chest.

Stiles felt self-conscious as he wondered about what just happened.

"Were you able to…"He hesitated, eyes closed in hope he hadn't been the only one to ejaculate.

Derek sat up and returned to hovering over Stiles, drinking in the sight of him sated and a little worried. The alpha smirked as he glanced downward.

"I'd hope you could tell all of that isn't just from you." Stiles looked down at his stomach and felt his face growing red. Semen was smeared across him like a canvas that had been painted in true Jackson Pollock fashion.

"Oh god. Well that's just fantastic." Stiles covered his face, groaning. Derek chuckled, nuzzling his fingers but when Stiles refused to resurface, the alpha brought his attention elsewhere. Stiles felt that tongue at work again but on his abdomen, licking him clean.

Stiles jumped and tried to stop him by pushing his face away but Derek held him down and finished the job; ignoring his protests. It was only a little embarrassing but it was easily subtracted as Stiles fought the giggles at how ticklish it was.

Derek released him, "That was amazing."

Stiles huffed, trying to turn to Derek on appendages that felt like cooked noodles, "What? The dessert you just had or the main course?" One day he might get used to how animalistic Derek Hale could be.

Derek just continued to grin wolfishly. "Both."

Stiles sat up slowly as he pulled himself together, managing to don his pant legs as he hopped around unsteadily. Derek only fastened his pants when Stiles asked, "Did you really think I could have feelings for that asshole Andy?"

The alpha sighed, "What may be clear now isn't always so clear during primal activities—I…I'm sorry. A part of me is prone to jealousy at the thought of you and him knowing each other. He admires you—your bravery. I hate him even for that."

Stiles fought to keep the endearing smile off his face and won when he thought back on Derek's honesty earlier. He was really suffering from being in the dark on what transpired between those hunters and himself. Stiles had to address it even if it brought the events back fresh. He had to open the wound in hopes it would heal correctly by talking to Derek about it. Stiles found his shirts and put them back on before leaning his torso into Derek's side. He needed the closeness.

"I was tortured, I'm sure that much you know. Before that night, I never knew pain could become an entity but it was alive that night and has been breathing ever since." Derek didn't interrupt but became very still like the trees surrounding them. Stiles raised a hand to look at his fingers.

"They…Paul used sewing needles to drive underneath my fingernails, all of my fingers and repeatedly. I was tied down and couldn't fight him off. Out of all of what transpired, that had been the worst of it." Stiles laughed bitterly and nodded his head to himself, "He was a giant bastard."

"You asked how I was doing before we desecrated the poor ground. Honestly, I haven't been able to sleep because of that night; his voice keeps me awake in flashbacks. My fingers still hurt from time to time as a special reminder that my head is fucked up from the experience and I act like a victim. I have anxiety attacks." Letting Derek hear it all, Stiles was concerned about how much of it the alpha would internalize and blame himself for.

"I healed your physical wounds…not your mental ones." Derek commented finally, "Stiles if I could remove those memories I would—

"No. That's not what I want. Not now. What I went through…it was worth it because it meant that you and Scott were safe. If there was a sketchy dude with a clipboard to sign up and do again, I'd be first in line."

Derek glared, not liking how probable it all was. Not the dude with the clipboard but…Stiles decided to elaborate. "I mean it, Derek. Before coming here I wasn't so sure about my place in life and if I'd ever belong anywhere. Scott found his happiness, my father had his work…You needed me just as much as I needed you. It was perfect because you gave me a sense of direction. I didn't feel alone anymore. I'd be alone if I didn't have you to fight for."

Derek's fingers lifted Stiles' chin and Stiles accepted the kiss, holding onto the alpha's bicep as his eyes fell closed.

"Then I'll settle for replacing those memories with new ones." Derek mumbled against his lips in a quiet promise.

When they made their way back to the clearing, Stiles realized just how exhausted he was. It seemed as though his body gave a massive sigh of relief and was ready to sleep. Derek must have sensed it, or just noticed that stumbling so much in the bright light of day was not normal.

"Let me take you to the motel." The alpha didn't bother with asking but Stiles had no desire to leave Derek anyway so he went with him in the Camaro to a familiar motel in town, not too far from Stiles' school. It was as plain as the word "motel" suggested, even for an extended stay room. There were generic white appliances, saw dust furniture, an en suite bath with white tile flooring and one queen sized bed at the center of it all. Stiles looked longingly at the bed for the first time in weeks.

"Go shower, I'll be back." Derek commanded again, and again Stiles saw no reason to balk at the sensible advice. It already felt like their dynamic had changed. The foundation was still there but the finite details were being renovated to accommodate the growth of their relationship. It was a little unnerving to think about the titles that came along with their devotion to each other and what the future may hold but Stiles was ready to accept whatever challenge was thrown at them next.

Stiles undressed and caught his reflection in the waist length mirror in the bath and gawked at himself. He was littered in bruises that he hadn't had this morning, the bite mark red and profound on his neck. When he lightly touched it, the sensation of it was fully remembered and Stiles shivered all too pleasantly. He dreamed of hickeys. Giving them, receiving them. Derek had literally imprinted on him and had gone overboard.

"How the hell am I going to explain this?" He grumbled, counting them obsessively.

He kept the shower short, had stolen Derek's T-shirt and boxers he found in his naked snooping and disappeared under the covers of the bed. The linens were fresh and it didn't take him long to drift off to sleep.

He felt the kiss to his temple first but decided to ignore it, sleep was too precious. Those lips were on his now, tongue licking which had Stiles screwing up his face as he tried to hang on to the sleep he so rarely got. He attempted to push the face away only to have his wrist caught by a hand, the kisses traveled to his throat which started to appeal to his sleepy brain. At the feel of teeth grazing him, Stiles jumped up. His head knocked into Derek's chin.

"Jesus, Stiles…" Derek groaned in a familiar irritation and Stiles winced as a small pain bloomed at the top of his forehead.

"My bad." He said sheepishly, rubbing Derek's chin soothingly albeit uselessly.

"You're an idiot." Derek smiled and Stiles' heart clinched at the sight.

Derek seemed to grow shy under the stare and cleared his throat as he readjusted his seat on the bed, "How'd you sleep?"

Stiles thought about it and tried to recall a restless night that never was. Truly astounded, Stiles said incredulously, "I…didn't have one single nightmare…no voices."

There was no way it was the end of his PTSD but it was a good sign for the first time that Stiles could overcome the traumas.

Derek looked relieved, "Good. Come eat, you've lost weight."

It was true, with sports on hold and all the stress, Stiles found it hard to care about meals. At the sight of his favorite burger joint's paper bags on the table, Stiles' stomach growled. He didn't hold back as he ripped into the bag, noticing the burgers and fries and took one of each, stuffing his face with the good fried stuff. Derek pushed a cup closer to him and Stiles drank the soda, smiling around the straw.

Derek noticed as he unwrapped the burger, "What?" He grunted.

Stiles did a small laugh through his nostrils. "You're feeding me now. We switched roles."

They shared a look as they both smiled around their mouthfuls, glancing down at the same time. A chilling thought crossed his mind causing him to still his inhalation of all the fast food.

"What time is it?" He panicked, searching for his phone which he hadn't given much thought to at all. That had been a mistake.

"Calm down, Stiles." Derek said slowly but Stiles was already standing, wide eyed and his confusion was growing.

"Shit, what day is it?!" Stiles had run to the window and noticed it was a cloudy day but the sun was high in the sky.

"It's Sunday—Stiles stop it, here." Derek intervened when Stiles started to rip through his dirty clothes to look for his phone until Derek waved the device in his face. Stiles glared up at him and snatched it, tentatively looking at his notifications which were…empty.

"I called Scott, told him you were with me. He's covering for you." The alpha surmised, giving Stiles a look that definitely insinuated that he was an idiot all over again. Deflating, Stile sighed.

"Sorry… It's just…too soon to tell my father about all of this. I freaked." That was one factor he hadn't considered for one second. Still wasn't ready to contemplate it to be honest. Derek didn't seem to be offended.

"I agree."

Derek sat next to him on the grotesquely patterned carpeted floor of the motel room; Stiles pondered who ever thought a red, brown and green splotchy design with white spots was a good idea.

"I can't believe I slept that long." He said aloud, still in amazement he was able to sleep so well.

"And you would've kept sleeping if I hadn't awakened you with true love's kiss. However, I don't think it had the same effect." Recalling the cringe worthy outcome of the kiss had Stiles snorted which turned to boisterous laughter. When he calmed down, it only took another look at Derek's face and he burst into tearful laughter again, as it was all too funny not to laugh hysterically.

"I turned the beast into a prince." he finally got out around his peals of laughter and Derek just rolled his eyes.

"I'm starting to regret this." He murmured with mock disdain set on his face as he watched Stiles roll on the floor in his mirth.

THE END

AN: WOW. WOW. I did it, guys. The conclusion has been met. Thank you so much for the support over the years and your never ending eagerness for the story's progression. I really hope you enjoyed it and can look back fondly sometimes on this journey—I certainly will. Let me know what you thought about the overall journey, I'm interested in what you think. This has been fun and I'll miss it but it's time to move on.

*bows*

Owari.