Changing Patterns

• 25 •

    For a moment stiles pauses. He's completely frozen, listening to the drip in the quiet sink, for any shuffling or movement in the other side of the door. But Derek isn't the reason. Somethings different, changing amongst the pack, something is shifting in an uncomfortable way and it's attached to his chest. Pulling him in to listen and wait, giving him time. Whatever has changed is huge, whatever's been lost or added, it's official. Whatever it is. Stiles isn't sure he'll like it too much. The door swung open and Stiles jumped back to avoid getting hit as a wide eyed Derek looks over him. The alpha pants lightly as he looks over stiles. The motion clicking in the humans brain with the feeling. Derek felt it too.

    "Somethings wrong with the others.." stiles mumbles half unheard before Derek shakes his head, almost aggressively as the boy and swallows.

    "I checked on them, everyone seems fine. You were the last," Derek panted. "For fucks sake!" The wolf slammed his fist on the door and bowed his head with gritted teeth; letting his eyes pinch shut mimicking his eye brows.

    "I-I'm alright. We'll figure out how to get control of beacon hills again, don't worry." Stiles tries in a reassuring voice as he takes a small step forward.

    "What?" The alpha grunts and opens his eyes, looking down at their feet with his hands braced on the doorframe.

    "The new supernaturals showing up. I know it's stressing you out the same way this shit," he gestures to himself. "Is fucking with me. We always figure it out though, Scott, you, Lydia, Allison, everyone. We always fight back." The human grins despite Derek's attention still on their feet.

    "You think-" he begins to growl out and cuts himself off. "Whatever, I have to shower." Derek's arms drop to his sides with a sigh, head still bowed and back straight as he allows the younger to grab whatever he needs to and slip into the bedroom. The werewolf closed the bathroom door easily before everything fell silent and lonely in the room.

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Stiles had argued with the sour-wolf pressed to his back. He'd argued that he should sleep on the floor, or the armchair, Derek would be annoyed with him sleeping in his bed. But alas he lost and know the two are back to back in the wolfs bed. All of course, after stiles was sitting cross legged on the bed when Derek came out of the bathroom holding his towel around his waist. Derek had forgotten his clothes and came back to get them, his eyes locked with Stiles's for less then a few seconds, but the human still lost it. And Derek's hidden smirk, that could be seen as he searches through his dresser for the set aside clothes, was all the reminder stiles needed that the fucking werewolf could smell him. And his growing body parts that annoyingly gave him away.

Instead though, they lay back to back after Derek got dressed. The wolf in sweat pants as stiles is dressed in pajama pants. He had a shirt originally, it proved to be to hot for the extra clothing, and he couldn't exactly get rid of his pants- so shirt be gone. Stiles shifts slightly in his spot trying to get comfortable with sleeping in the same bed as Derek. Cause yeah! He can do that, sleep with Derek, in the same bed with Derek. It's only their backs touching anyways, not a lot of skin, just back to back. So why does he feel so extremely awkward. Derek shifted behind stiles and rolled over, his eyes pinched shut in pained expression as he grips his hands into fists. Stiles looked over his shoulder at the wolf, watched  as Derek grits his teeth in his sleep.

    Stiles copied the motion, rolling over to face Derek and watching as the man chewed the inside of his cheek. After a minute the younger sighed lightly and raised a hands to poke at the wolfs cheek where he seems to be chewing. Nothing but the teeth attack stopped, stiles trailed his finger down Derek's cheek to his jaw and over the line. Stiles watched the man react and begin to naw at his cheek once again. This time as stiles pressed his finger to the new spot Derek's eyes flew open glowing red and worried. Derek's clawed hand catches Stiles's wrist in a hurry as he pushes forward and leans over stiles raising his other hand to Stiles's neck, claws scratching lightly before stopping in a hult at the scream.

    "Derek!!" Stiles's hands capture Derek's chest to push against the unmoving man. "Stiles! It's stiles, Derek." He yells out of breath, the werewolf's hand loosening on Stiles's know bleeding wrist and backing away from the humans scratched throat.

    "Stiles..." Derek breaths as his eyes jump between Stiles's own, trying to convince himself correctly.

    "Yeah!" The human whispers back with a huff of breath, pressing his head further back into his pillow as his arms weaken their push against the werewolf.

    Derek nods lightly and moves his hands to the pillow under Stiles's head, pushing up into a hands and knees position over stiles. The humans eyes open and are met with soft green ones, a pout clear on Derek's face as he leans back and falls to lay next to stiles.

    "I'm so sorry-" he starts, eyes wide as they flick back to stiles. His words repeated in a whisper as he reaches toward Stiles's throat again. The human watched his hand and made no move to deny it, nor did he flinch to the stinging touch. Derek's fingers run over the small paper like cuts. "Shit." He hissed sitting up and gently pulling over Stiles's hand.

    "Oh..." the Sanctor breaths as he watches Derek unwrap his wrist, old wounds reopened and a few new tiny scratches with them.

    Derek swallows thickly and moves to get out of bed, pulling the younger with him and dragging him to the bathroom. "Let me clean you up- shit!" Derek's fist slams down on the counter after stiles nods. The wolf clearly upset with himself.

    "Hey, cool it. Alright." Stiles says pulling on Derek's shoulder, green eyes met brown quickly. "Look-" stiles swipes his finger over a cut, only a small smear of blood. "Not bleeding to death Mr. Big Bad wolf, don't worry."

    Derek swallows again and watches Stiles's finger as if his life depended on it. The wolf then turning away and swinging open the medicine cabinet. Derek pulls out new gauze and wrap and Neosporin for the injury's on the humans arm.

    "I still hurt you, again." Derek mumbles the last word in hopes stiles wouldn't catch it. He did.

    Stiles shoves Derek's shoulder lightly, happy Derek made an effort to act like the push did anything. "Shut up. I'm fine." Derek nods and begins to clean up Stiles's arm, re-wrapping it and matching the other side despite there being no real need; then cleaning his throat without any gauze or wrap. Stiles grinned knowing his next step as he watched Derek wipe down the counter while chewing the inside of his cheek. Like while he was sleeping. Stiles watched, falling back in the bed, as Derek tossed the old stuff.

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