I Hope They Serve Whiskey In Hell (Teen Wolf)

Epilogue

A loud unwanted ringing passed through Stiles' right ear and shook his whole brain awake, he squinted his eyes open and reached for the phone.

"Uh, hi, hello, this is smiles- I mean Stiles, yeah"

"Mr Stilinski, I'm calling from BH Motors. You called us yesterday regarding your vehicle, is that correct?"

"Hmm did I, oh yeah, yeah, the Jeep" he felt in no state to be answering formal questions, all he could currently think about was bacon and- "eggs".

"Pardon sir, did you say 'the Jeep eggs'?" a confused woman asked from over the phone.

"Wait no, never mind, uh ring me back later if you could" Stiles hung up before getting any reply. He climbed out from the warmth of the covers and his eyes widened at the sudden realisation that these weren't his sheets, this wasn't his bed... he was in Derek's apartment, in his sheets, in his bed. Then he began to remember the drinks, the movies, the burger search, the walk home. 

A breeze cast over his whole- now what he understood to be naked- body and more memories came flooding back to him. The kiss and the harsh touch of Derek's stubble against his much softer face. The second kiss, how Derek grabbed at his hips and bit at his neck. The third kiss, the way the man's eyes would light up and glass over with drunk desire and then finally, the night. The time they spent undressed and pressed every part of their skin together, the taste of sweat, the sound of moans and short gasps of air, the closeness of bony knees locked between toned thighs.

Stiles noted Derek wasn't in bed anymore, he'd left. Panic rushed through him, all the anxieties of a wrecked possible friendship. Would Derek be mad, angry, furious... vicious? Stiles even found himself scared of disappointment, maybe he'll get no reaction, no emotion, maybe Derek will just never speak to him again. "Oh God, oh shit, oh damn, what have I done, what have we done-"

"Shut up Stiles I can hear you from in here" a calming voice came from behind the door. The tone used was what let Stiles breathe again, the tense feeling eating at him disappeared and he began to relax. Derek actually seems okay.

"Wow you have really good hearing, has anyone ever told you?" Stiles made sure to whisper, testing the other's auditory like it's their new game.

"No, never. Now get up, I made breakfast".

- -

They sat at the breakfast table in almost silence. Stiles stabbed at the bacon trying to get a rasher to grip to his fork, he had no luck. Derek composed a throaty laugh and reached over to assist Stiles with his oh-so hard bacon task.

"So" Stiles began. 'here it comes' thought Derek "-last night, I don't know how you feel about it but I get if you're mad, I am so-"

...Derek wasn't listening, he didn't need to. Ever since he had woken up he'd waited for this, Stiles trying to comprehend everything with his clueless expressions and messy thought path. Derek already knew they both enjoyed last night, they'd drunkenly admitted they'd fantasized about eachother lots of times before (whether Stiles remembers that part or not). Derek didn't need an explination and neither would Stiles in about 2 seconds.

Stiles had made it half way through his speech when he was cut off by lips and then tongue. His eyebrows furrowed and Derek felt the movement against his own forehead, they both smiled quite content with these turn of events. They slowly pulled apart, gaze still locked.

"Okay, okay, where was I" Stiles broke the eye contact and tugged for thought at his aching brain. Another laugh came from Derek, he shook his head.

"Forget the speech, I like you a lot more than you probably think and I am pretty sure you like me. There simple." He smoothed his palms down the side of Stiles' arms, skin touched skin again, the teenager felt comfort and Derek took satisfaction in knowing he could soften his lover's nerves. With new found confidence Stiles took a leap and kissed Derek, it held reasurrance for them both.

This is gonna work out.