Just Strangers {Sterek Fan-Fiction}

"You're Still Drunk Stiles."

CHAPTER FIVE

"My mom got cancer. She soon died after. My dad would drink every now and then. Blameing me for her death. So when I turned eight-teen I packed a bag and left. I hitch hicked all over the place before I made a mistake and . . . well . . . he was a psycho . . . h-he tried to come at me . . . I-I took his neck in my feet with a jump up . . . and on the pull d-down . . . his neck s-snapped." A tear fell from Stiles' cheek. He took a shaky breath.

"They didn't b-believe me. They thought I-I . . . I just killed an old man because I could." Stiles cried and rejected Derek's touch.

"I ran from that highway to the one here. I'm a fugitive. I should of let you call the cops. I killed someone. I'm a murderer. I-I'm a murderer . . . I'M A MURDERER!" Stiles cried falling to the floor. Derek got up and pulled the crying boy into his arms.

"Shh . . . it wasn't your fault . . . you didn't mean to, he came at you. Stiles. This is not your fault. You're not a murderer." Derek tried to stop Stiles from crying. To calm him, but Stiles was having a fit. After a little while Stiles went silent. He suddenly got up, pushing Derek down and rushing to the fridge. He opened the freezer and pulled out some old, strong vodka. Stiles popped off the cap and started to chug it. Derek rushed over to Stiles and pulled it away from him.

"What-are you trying to kill yourself?!" Derek snapped. Stiles felt dizzy. He stumbled over to the couch and laid down.

"That's the point." Stiles mumbled. Derek looked at how much was gone and ran back to Stiles.

"Stiles, Stiles? You need to stay awake. Stiles if you sleep y-you'll die. Stiles? Stiles!?" Derek shouted and Stiles glared up at him before slowly sitting up.

"You do think I know that? Why else would I calculate from how much I saw when I got here to how long it would take you to react and how much I could chug in that time? It isn't hard. Especially with the distance between here and the fridge." Stiles snapped the started to speak his thoughts.

"Wait . . . the distance between the fridge and the couch was three meters, one yard and one half feet. But the distance from a foot in front of the couch to the fridge was three meter, one yard and eleven inches. DAMN! I was off!" Stiles figures out. He had stood up and walked half way to the kitchen by the time he finished. Stiles hits his head twice and drops to his knees. Derek ran over to help him up and to the couch.

"I don get it Im olwas rit" Stiles started to slur. The alcohol was kicking in and he was getting super drunk.

"Derk?" Stiles asked looking to him. Derek chuckled and looked at Stiles.

"Yes?" he replide. Stiles lined his lips up with Derek's.

"Yo do now who hot yo lok. Rit?" Stiles slured with a smile scooting closer. All Stiles had to do was slightly lean forward and he would be kissing Derek.

"Stiles, you're drunk." Derek says scooting back some just so Stiles can get closer.

"Yo coud git drnk too." Stiles cheered, with a super drunk voice.

"Did yo now al i hav ta do is plac mi hnd on yo nee, distructin yo so i con kizz yor pump lipz." Stiles smiled placing his hand on Derek's knee. He turned red looking down but quickly back up when Stiles lightly placed his lips on Derek's. He slightly moaned into the small kiss. Stiles pulled back still smiling.

"You're still drunk Stiles." Derek whispers. Stiles rolls his eyes.

"Psh wit evr . . . yo jut don wat to idment yo likd it." Stiles said leaning forward until his head fell onto Derek's thigh.