Title: The Room

Auhtor: p0em

Beta: penguinswithgun (tumblr)

Fandom : Teen Wolf

Genre: Pre-slash / slash

Rating: PG

Statut: Complete

Word count: 3,600 words

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale

Summary: Stiles isn't surprised anymore to see Derek sleeping on his bed or reading a book in a corner of the room when he comes back from school.

Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or its characters.

Notes: This is the first time I write a fanfiction in English so I want to thank penguinswithgun (on tumblr) who corrected this OS.

Stiles isn't surprised anymore.

Derek is there, and that has become normal, natural.

They never talked about it.

Stiles isn't surprised anymore to see Derek sleeping on his bed or reading a book in a corner of the room when he comes back from school. He just throws his bag on the floor and sits at his desk. Sometimes he can see Derek's reflection on his computer screen, and he wonders why Derek would come to his house while he looks so sad, so exhausted.

Derek stopped counting a long time ago. He remembers a time when he tried not to come too often, but the more he came, the more he didn't feel being able to keep himself from coming back.

It's not difficult to enter through the window, even when Stiles isn't there. For a while now, Derek has thought that what he was doing was creepy. He came as soon as Stiles left for school and went out as soon as he heard the Jeep parking in the driveway.

It's weird, the way Derek feels so safe in there. It doesn't take him too long to understand that Stiles' room must be the only place he can feel fine.

Fortunately, the first time Stiles found him, his dad wasn't at home. Stiles couldn't help but scream, waking Derek.

"What are you doing here?"

Stiles tried to sound sure, but his voice was too high, and Derek noticed. He looked at him and before Stiles could do anything, he had disappeared through the window.

Derek didn't come back for two weeks. He was angrier than usual. Isaac tried to speak to him, but Derek ignored him. Then, there was the full moon.

Stiles wasn't home. He must be at Scott's, waiting for his best friend to come back to his normal self, thought Derek as he let himself fall on Stiles' bed.

He hadn't even taken his jacket or his shoes off.

Stiles passed through the back door, being careful not to wake his dad. He was pretty happy. Scott's control during full moon was getting better and better each month.

As soon as he entered his room, he saw Derek lying on his bed. Stiles kept silent. He had heard from Scott about Derek's behavior during the past few days.

He approached the werewolf, wanting to wake him up and make him leave, but he could see the shadows under Derek's eyes. He could see the exhaustion on his face. He could see his mouth slightly opened as he was breathing slowly.

Stiles didn't have the heart to wake him.

It had been a long time since Derek had been this well-rested.

He opened his eyes and immediately saw Stiles, sleeping next to him. He was on the other side of the bed, careful not to touch Derek, as if he was still afraid of him even in his sleep.

Derek didn't care, though. Stiles had let him stay.

When Stiles' dad knocked on his door to wake him up, Stiles was alone.

Stiles hasn't seen Derek in his room for a week.

It feels weird. He is too used to the werewolf's presence. He is too used to feeling Derek's gaze on his neck as he is working on his computer. He is too used to hearing the man's slow breathing while he is reading.

Derek hears the Jeep a few minutes before Stiles appears at his door.

He is alone, which surprises Derek.

"Where is Scott?" Derek asks, as if Stiles couldn't be separated from his best friend.

"I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

They never talk about it. It has been an unspoken rule between them. And Stiles is going to break it.

Most of the time, they wouldn't speak at all. Stiles would work or do research or anything else on his computer and Derek would just stay in the chair or on the bed. They were fine with that.

Sometimes Stiles would show to Derek how to play some MMORPG or Derek would read him a book. They were fine with that too.

They spent a lot of time together, and they got to know each other, even if they would never talk about private, hurtful things (they would never speak about Derek's family killed by the fire or Stiles' mother killed by the cancer).

Stiles learned that Derek was happy or sad when the character he read about was happy or sad. Stiles learned that Derek's breathing was so quiet when he was sleeping, like he didn't have to be angry anymore, like he could finally rest.

Derek learned that Stiles was very passionate in his own way: he could focus on something for hours, forgetting to eat or to sleep. He learned the way Stiles' shoulders relaxed and his mouth stayed a tiny line when he didn't think he needed to wear his comical mask anymore.

It happened somehow that they were both lying on Stiles' bed, shoulder to shoulder. They were looking at the ceiling (where you could still see some adhesive from the fluorescent stars Stiles' dad put there when he was four and Stiles ripped off seven years later), chatting quietly.

Stiles asked about the pack, how the guys were copping with being a werewolf (even though Scott was in the pack, they didn't talk that much to the others at school and Stiles didn't really bother asking about them). Derek answered him and Stiles listened to his warm voice. Stiles smiled, even if Derek couldn't see it (especially because Derek couldn't see it). Derek didn't want to show it, but Stiles could hear it: Derek loved each one of his pack as if they were his siblings, and it made Stiles' heart ache when he remembered he wasn't a member of the pack.

It was in the middle of the night and the lights in Stiles' room were turned off. Perhaps Derek should leave, but he didn't feel like going home, so he jumped and climbed to Stiles' window and entered quietly into the room. Derek didn't move for a few seconds, looking into the darkness at Stiles' silhouette on the bed.

He walked up to him and lay down on his back on the other side of the bed. He felt the mattress dipping as Stiles rolled on his side. Derek turned his head. Stiles was looking at him sleepily. He opened his mouth as he wanted to say something, but he was sleeping again before he could say anything.

It was weird, but it felt like home.

A little bit.

Outside of Stiles' room, they didn't see each other often... Stiles didn't go to the pack meetings (at least not every time).

They never saw each other often outside Stiles' room. It wasn't like they were trying to avoid each other; they just had things to do. Stiles had to study if he wanted to have a scholarship and to choose the college he wanted to go to the most. Derek had to train his wolves; he had to make sure nothing suspicious happened. He wanted to keep the peace there was between the pack and the Argents.

Outside of Stiles' room, they didn't see each other often, perhaps because they already spent too much time together in there.

Derek doesn't say anything. He steps back and lets Stiles enter.

The room felt like a shelter, like a bubble outside the rest of the world. It was just the two of them. Nothing could go in, nothing could go out.

The room felt like a shelter. Nothing, no one could harm them. They were safe in there.

It was just the two of them.

Stiles follows, closes the door behind him. He can feel Derek's gaze on him, but he keeps his head down.

There are so many things he wants to talk about, but unlike most times, Stiles isn't able to talk.

Stiles' dad was on a night shift.

For the first time since Derek began to come around, they went out of the room.

Derek was looking at the place as Stiles was searching for some food he could bring to their- to his room.

"She was really beautiful." Derek said, breaking the silence.

Stiles turned around, even if he knew who Derek was talking about.

"Yeah, she was."

Derek looked at him and with a sigh Stiles couldn't interpret; he put down the photo and walked toward Stiles.

"I knew her."

His voice was an even murmur Stiles almost didn't hear.

"Really?"

"Yes. After the fire, she was the one who took our case. She was very nice."

Stiles nodded, but didn't answer. He turned his back to Derek, not knowing what he was feeling. His mom had never talked about her work, the kids she had to take care of to place in other families. He never suspected she could have been linked to Derek and Laura. That period of his life was kind of a blur to him. His mum's cancer had been diagnosed a few months after the fire at the Hales.

He heard Derek coming near to him. When he put a hand on his shoulder, Stiles didn't push it away.

That night, Stiles told Derek things he had never told anyone before, not even his father or Scott. He talked about his mom and his dad. About Scott and "before Scott". About his dreams, about the future.

Derek listened to him silently, never looking away from him.

Derek knew something wasn't right.

Derek knew something wasn't right and it scared him.

He had always controlled the wolf inside of him by using his anger (anger against Kate, anger against Peter, anger against his condition, and that made him feel so lonely). It wasn't enough, though. Not anymore.

While he had helped the others to control themselves during the full moon, he was now the one who needed help.

Even if the rest of the pack was aware of his problem, Derek didn't want to talk about it. Not with them. Not with anybody.

When Derek came in, Stiles was writing a text on his phone. He didn't look up immediately. Derek took off his shoes and lay down on the bed on his usual spot. The dawn light was calmly coming into the room. Stiles put his phone on his bedside table and lay next to Derek.

"Scott told me you're not as good at controlling yourself as before."

Derek didn't look at him. He didn't want to talk about it.

"I could help."

Stiles' voice was gentle. Derek closed his eyes and rolled onto his side, showing his back to Stiles. He heard a sigh, but Stiles didn't say anything else.

"So?" Derek says with an exasperated sigh.

Derek kept coming to see Stiles, but his visits were less frequent.

Stiles said nothing.

Derek came to school to pick up Isaac. He was too far from Stiles to call for him, but Stiles wanted to. He wanted to talk to him; he wanted to know what was going on.

But someone jostled him and almost made Stiles fall. When Stiles found his balance again and looked in Derek's direction, Derek was gone.

"I... I... miss you."

Stiles couldn't sleep. There were too many things in his head: the exams, college next year, how his dad could do without him, Derek avoiding him, Scott going to another college too many miles away from his.

Derek couldn't sleep

It was too easy to understand why. It had been under his nose for so long.

It was too easy to understand while he climbed up, entered the room and Stiles looked at him but didn't make him go away.

It was too easy to understand while he was sitting on the bed, taking off his shoes and his jacket and slipped under the sheets.

It was too easy and it hurt.

When Derek woke up, Stiles was lying on his side, his head against Derek's shoulder.

When Stiles woke up, he was alone.

Stiles didn't see Derek for a week. He missed him.

Derek closes his eyes, doesn't want to listen to Stiles. He wants to run away, because it is the easy thing to do, and because it is what he always does.

They were sitting on the floor, backs against the bed, eating cereals Stiles picked up from the kitchen before his father had come home from work. They were laughing, trying not to be too loud because Stiles' dad was in the living-room downstairs and might hear them.

They were laughing and their shoulders were bumping into each other.

Stiles didn't even remember what he was saying, maybe something about Scott and him when they were younger, trying to do something incredibly stupid. Stiles didn't remember, but it didn't matter.

Stiles steps forward, wants to reach for Derek, but he keeps his hands to himself.

It feels weird.

Neither of them could remember when it happened or the first time: when Derek bent over to read Stiles' computer over his shoulder, his torso brushing against Stiles' back; when Stiles poked him at his arm or his thigh as he was telling a joke; when they were lying on the bed and they didn't care if there was space between them or not.

"You should go."

There was one time when Stiles' dad almost found Derek. Derek was sitting on the floor, his back against the closet, Stiles lying on the carpet at his feet. Derek was reading a book and Stiles was listening to him, eyes closed. They didn't hear Stiles' dad coming home until he was coming up the stairs, calling for Stiles.

They were so surprised that Derek didn't protest when Stiles pushed him into the closet. Stiles had just closed Derek in when his dad entered into the room. Stiles tried to act as normal as possible. His father hadn't stayed for long, he just asked him about his day and what he wanted to eat for dinner.

When he left, Stiles let out a deep sigh. Then his gaze caught Derek's jacket on his bed and he frowned. How had his dad not seen it?

"And I won't. Not until you tell me what's going on in your wolfy head."

"There is noth-"

"Maybe this worked with the others, but it won't with me. I'm not a part of your pack; I don't have to obey you. So you'll tell me, or-"

"Or what?" Derek asks with sarcasm.

Stiles stepped back, as if he has been physically punched in the face. Derek had stopped being like that with him a long time ago: being mean to protect himself, pretending to be dangerous to keep the others away. Stiles doesn't know this Derek anymore. In the room, he has learned to know another one, who isn't afraid of smiling and laughing and being sympathetic.

"What happened?"

Derek looks at him, confused.

"Does it have something to do with your moony problem?"

"Stiles..."

Derek's voice sounds exhausted. Stiles is surprised again. It makes him more worried.

"Please, go."

It's not an order, just a request.

Stiles doesn't want to, because he never does as he is told, but Derek is looking at him with defiance and Stiles can tell it is a mask, but he also knows Derek's not going to answer his question.

So Stiles leaves.

Sometimes Derek didn't sleep. He just stood there, watching the room (watching Stiles). He even went down to the kitchen to grab some food, but never for too long. He knew he shouldn't be doing this (it was too creepy) but he couldn't help.

He had tried to go on Stiles' computer once, but he had needed a password he hadn't had. The next night he came, he found a post-it with his name and a following of numbers and letters on the screen.

Sometimes Derek did sleep (Stiles being there or not) and he had never felt so well-rested.

During the summer, Stiles spent more time with the pack (because he had nothing else to do except for listening to the police radio). Most of the time Stiles was sitting under the porch of the Hale's house, watching the wolves training. When Derek came to sit beside him and Stiles naturally bumped into him while he was making a joke or trying to make the Alpha smile, Stiles wondered if the others could understand what had been happening in the room (even if Stiles wasn't able to tell what had been exactly happening).

Stiles doesn't return to the house.

High school is over and Stiles has to go to Stanford to find a flat as soon possible, as he received his acceptance letter.

As Stiles spends the whole day with his father at Stanford, Derek spends the whole day in Stiles' room. He wonders if Stiles' smell will still be that strong when he won't be living there anymore.

Stiles knew something wasn't right.

It wasn't sane to have someone in your room with no one being aware of this. It wasn't sane to let someone you used to be afraid of sleep in your own bed. It wasn't sane to let someone enter your life, play such a big part and feel as if you're lying to everyone because you couldn't (didn't want to) speak about.

It wasn't sane, but Stiles Stilinski had never been known for being a sane guy.

Stiles doesn't go to his room right away; he stays with his father downstairs. They eat dinner in the kitchen, while Stiles is chatting loudly about his new found flat and his future college and his dad is looking at him with a fond smile. They will miss each other; it won't be easy to get used to being alone, but they are both excited.

When Stiles finally goes back to his room, he can't say he is very surprised to see Derek.

"What are you doing here?"

Derek doesn't answer. He is standing by the window and Stiles thinks he might leave without saying a word.

"Derek, I'm tired. I drove hundreds of miles today, I just want to sleep right now."

Derek levels up his eyes to meet Stiles' and Stiles takes a step back. Derek almost looks... wounded. Devastated. Like he took a wolfsbane bullet.

"You okay?"

Derek slightly shakes his head.

"Is it the pack? Scott didn't tell me anything, but-"

"It's not the pack."

Everybody knew.

Stiles' father saw the jacket on Stiles' bed, he heard murmurs and laughs, but he couldn't do anything. Not when he saw his son smile like he hadn't seen him for years (not since the cancer had been confirmed).

Scott smelled Derek all over Stiles' room, but Stiles and Derek didn't show anything nor did they say anything about it, and Scott didn't want to be rough with them. Not when Stiles seemed truly happier and Derek a lot less angry.

Isaac heard Scott whisper Stiles' name during a full moon when Derek couldn't find his anchor anymore. He heard Scott, but he didn't say anything. Not when he saw humanity coming back in Derek's eyes.

Erica knew the way Boyd looked at her and she recognized it in the way Derek looked at the Jeep coming when Stiles was bringing Scott to the house during the summer.

"So, what is it?"

Derek closes his eyes, breathes deeply.

"I.. don't want... you... to go..."

Derek's voice isn't more loudly than a whisper and it's broken up, as if he has difficulties to breathe. Stiles opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"What do you mean?" Stiles finally asks, stepping slowly toward Derek.

The werewolf suddenly closes the distance between them and takes Stiles in his arms. The embrace is too tight, but Stiles doesn't complain. He has never seen Derek like this and he doesn't know what to do.

"Don't leave. Please. Don't go there, stay here."

Stiles is sure Derek wants to add something else, but he stays silent.

"Derek, I can't. I have to go. I want to go to this college."

Derek's arms tighten up around him and Stiles is sure he can feel claws on his back.

"Derek, I..."

His voice breaks up. He is afraid of understanding what Derek really means. He is afraid, because it could mean Stiles wouldn't be able to hide himself and he's not used to that.

"I have to go." he says again. "Even if I don't totally want to."

The claws on his back retract, and he can feel Derek's long exhale on his neck.

"You could come with me."

Derek chuckles.

"I can't," he answers with a somber voice. "I have to stay..."

"I know."

Stiles puts his arms around him and holds tight.

They stay like that for a few minutes. Maybe an hour or two.

Afterwards Stiles goes to sleep and Derek leaves the house.

Not for long, though. Derek comes back half an hour later and lies down besides Stiles. Stiles rolls into his arms.

They don't move. They don't talk. They don't sleep. They just stay there, breathing together, looking at each other.

Stiles will go to Stanford. Derek will go to the community college where the rest of the pack decided to go.

Stiles will come to visit Scott.

Scott will come to visit Stiles.

And Derek will be there.