Changing Patterns

• 31 •

    "We have to talk.." he says softly. Stiles's heart dropping to a lump sitting in his throat, his tightening muscles

    "Can we not if it's-"

    "No." Derek answers quickly. "I-I mean, he continues after catching Stiles's heart rate and soft, drifting, scent. "It's not that stiles..." the older man's voice fades back slowly.

   Stiles nods, "then go ahead and eat I'll see you upstairs."

    Derek glances to stiles, ultimately catching the younger eyes. "Your not eating?"

    "Already did." Stiles answered, heart not changing a beat at the not technically, not a lie. Derek nods warily in response, stiles moved first heading upstairs to their shared room. The construction guy comes that day, 3 o'clock, patch and leave job, quick no matter the professional opinion on what may be needed. Stiles was great full for that much, Scott and Derek both don't like non pack scents in the house. An alpha thing. Though he does need his room back, it's his room, his space, his getaway. Not saying at all that Derek Isn't a good getaway, but that's feeling more problematic know.

Stiles felt to close to anything more than a calm down. Derek's great, he's like, great great. As in stiles could fall great. On his face, break his nose, and peal his cheek off the cement great. And it's not great to mess around with those kind of people. People that can make your stomach settle and not twist. People that make you feel like your drowning, but like no matter what you can breath with them. Like there's no why out of a room full of open doors. As if you know they'll be there, in that room waiting to take your hand. The air in your lungs is cool and calm with gentle breeze brushes at your face. The people that can find you throughout everyone. The people that make you want to look for them. He needs to stop. Because that's who stiles will fall for.

The younger hitched his breath and he nudged open his room door with his knuckles. Not at the discarded clothes or crumbling wall, even his destroyed clear board. Nor his window being open. More like the feeling of Derek's body behind him. Not against, but brushing close. The man's hand raised to tap delicately, in a request type way, onto Stiles's hip. Derek's fingers tap as they settle atop Stiles's side, the younger ignoring Derek, though needing to stop the interaction, he felt he couldn't. Next noticed was the wolfs chest, brushing against Stiles's back, him shifting behind stiles to lean his head forward and part his lips besides Stiles's ear.

The younger shivered beneath Derek's touch and leaned his head to the side subconsciously. Dereks gruff voice spilling around stiles. "Focus." He snaps his hand away, "you remember days ago, when something changed among the pack-"

"Where's Erica?" Stiles asked suddenly, he stepped forward and spun around. "I didn't see her this morning, at all." Derek's face settled under stone.

"Stiles.." Derek starts almost in warning. His hands pulling into fists as stiles pinches his brow and curls his arms over his chest.

"Derek, what happened during my blackout?" Stiles's voice was still, and eyes scared as he waited for an answer. Confusion flowing through the room like fire could.

"Erica had, she." Derek stopped himself to think over his words. "I still feel her, but she disappeared after the fight. One minute she was fighting one of those guys, the next no one could find her." Stiles shivered, looking down to his feet as he thought over what he's been told. "Her scent, heart, it's gone, but her being part of the pack it's still there." Stiles shivered again, hands gripping his elbows.

"So she's just gone." Stiles muttered, clear fear in his eyes as he spoke.

"The run this morning was an attempt to catch a scent. But these fuckers don't have one so it's almost impossible." Stiles nodded. "We'll find her." Derek states as stiles chuckles almost in a nervous-insane type of way.

"Right. I feel like I should be saying that to you. You can feel the pack bond not me." Stiles's hands grip into his hair as he spins away, elbows tugging from Derek's hands.

"Well you aren't. Allison."

"What?..." stiles questions facing Derek over his shoulder.

"Remember the night we felt something change. It was Allison. Somethings different with her." Derek answers from his place a step closer to stiles. Crossing his arms and watching stiles chew his bottom lip nervously.

    "How can you be sure? What could've changed with her? I mean she's still with us, she was acting weird though." Stiles continued rapidly.

"I think she was bit, as in vampire bit." Derek answered quietly. His own worries clearly prickling just beneath his skin. Stiles peered over at Derek, eyes shallow with worry and speaking volumes of much more.

Derek swallowed and stepped closer, the younger dropping his attention directly down to the werewolf's feet. Watching his every shift. The wolf smelt of sweat, and his visible arm muscles flexed in a perplexed type way; as if he was thinking something through. Stiles couldn't lie, the tight black t-shirt, the lose white sweatpants. It fit way to much with hot in Stiles's opinion. He should be disgusted by the dragging sweat the beads on the man's forehead. One AirPod in his ear, phone safely tucked away in his pocket. Derek took another step, this time untucking his crossed arms and again stealing the younger's eyes.

His shoes were black, like anything else in Derek's closet, they tracked a small barely there print of dirt. Stiles ignored it as Derek's hands shift onto his waist and tug him lightly. Stiles ignores his body falling forward to lay his forehead against the werewolf's chest. He ignores the wet patch his head hits and the wide stretch of arms squeezing his back further. He does notice he's chewing his nails, prying his hands free to stripe across Derek's sides and grip his muscles back for security. A hum rumbles up through Derek's chest, but it worries him, because it wasn't Derek. Stiles made the sound. A satisfied like sound that pushes his throat into a tight strangling not.

In an instant stiles figured it out. Himself. He got it. He pushed back and shook his head, hands sturdy on the werewolf's chest as the man's hands crawled back from behind stiles. Derek's hands land on Stiles's shoulders, then are tossed aside as stiles pulls himself back and pushes against Derek's chest, a clear pinch in the alpha brow. Stiles's eyes flutter shut and he breaths slowly. Again he shakes his head, slower, more steady, he's saying no.

"I can't." He states quietly knowing Derek had caught the words, he stayed silent, confused, and across from stiles. "Don't, please just... I need you to leave, and I need my room back."

If Derek's heart could. It had stopped in that moment, with those words, his skin froze, his heart stopped, and his hands gripped tightly as he shut down his own mind.

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