"So," Stiles said, looking up from his laptop as Derek neared the couch, "how was Dr. Weir?"

Derek watched his lips form the words, then settle into a perfect cupid's bow. Lips he had kissed good night. Lips he had traced with gentle fingers.

He slid onto the couch on his knees and leaned in to press a kiss to Stiles's shoulder. "Therapeutic."

Stiles smirked, watching him, amused. He closed his laptop and moved into the corner of the couch, drawing Derek along with him. They settled together, Derek reclining back against Stiles's chest.

He was always careful when he laid his weight. Even with Stiles urging him closer, coaxing him to relax. He claimed he felt solid, real. There was something in that Derek could appreciate.

Stiles wrapped strong arms across his midsection and nuzzled into his hair.

Derek smiled as soft lips pressed a kiss to his temple. Safe touches.

Stiles had catalogued every safe touch to be deployed at his leisure. Made a study of it.

"Good session, then?" Stiles asked, resting his head on Derek's shoulder.

Derek hummed, unwinding into the warmth of him.

Stiles made a pleased sound that carried into a smile in his voice. "Did you ask her?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"She said you could come next time. If you want." He reached up and threaded his fingers into Stiles's hair, tugging lightly.

Stiles chuckled in his ear. "If I want? Dude, I think about sex with you like a thousand times a day. I want. Believe me. No lack of wanting." He squeezed on Derek's ribs.

Guilt danced lightly around his insides. Even though they'd talked about it. Gone to tears about it more than once, more often than not because he couldn't comprehend how a teenage boy could be okay with waiting.

Derek turned and dragged Stiles into a kiss. An apology, a confirmation. He wanted those pink lips everywhere. Wet. Tantalizing. He moaned as he dragged the lower lip between his teeth and felt Stiles's breath shudder out. He wanted it to be okay. To be a lover with scars instead of wounds.

"I'm sor—"

Stiles kissed him hard and stroked his cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Shut up. Tell her next week."

Derek huffed a heavy breath and pressed their foreheads together. "Okay."

"Okay."

Stiles released the hold around his middle and gave him a solid smack on the stomach.

"Now, help me with my German. I need to ace this thing."

He let out an amused breath.

"Ja, Liebling."