The silence in the room was only disrupted by the occasional turn of pages. Neither Stiles nor Derek dared to speak. It wasn't awkward, but it was far from comfortable. It was...tense. Like a breath held too long.
"I can't do this anymore," Stiles sighed, pushing the book he'd been reading away.
Derek's shoulders straightened. Stiles was finally going to ask to talk about last night. He was going to ask Derek questions he wasn't ready to answer.
"I mean, why do we think the answer is in a book? When is the answer ever that easy?" Stiles ran a hand through his hair.
Derek's shoulders dropped in relief.
"I know research is our thing but..." Stiles trailed off.
"Stiles." Derek wanted to reach out but kept his hands firmly on the book in his lap. He could see the frustration on Stiles' face. Though his scent was heavy with chemicals he was sure he caught the faintest whiff of worry.
Stiles met Derek's eyes with his own.
"Is research really what's bothering you?"
Stiles swallowed. Was Derek really bringing this up? They'd agreed to dismiss it as a mistake. Had he not done a good job of pretending like it hadn't happened?
"Your dad is fine. Parrish would tell us if something was going on."
Stiles dropped his head with a huffed laugh. Derek was talking about his dad, not their mistake.
"Yeah." He nodded. "You're right."
"I promise you that I'll do everything I can to keep him safe."
Stiles smiled up at Derek, "I know. Thank you."
Derek went to place a comforting hand on Stiles' forearm before stopping himself and retracting his hand.
Stiles frowned as Derek turned back to the book on his lap.
"Don't do that," Stiles pleaded, his tone barely above a whisper. "You said this wouldn't change anything."
Derek flinched. He'd hoped Stiles hadn't caught his hesitation.
"I'm just trying to respect your space." Derek's excuse was a blatant lie. The truth was: he didn't know how to touch Stiles without letting his mind wonder to the ways he'd touched him the night before.
"Because you're afraid that I don't have any self-restraint?" Stiles snapped.
"No, of course not."
Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face as he pushed off the couch.
Derek closed the book on his lap and laid it beside him before standing as well.
"Derek, I can't handle any distance between us. You're one of my best friends and if my stupid actions from last night are gonna change that then..." Stiles trailed off, shaking his head.
Derek reached for Stiles. His fingers wrapped gently around Stiles' upper arm, forcing him to turn around.
Stiles' eyes met Derek's tentatively.
"I'm sorry. Nothing has changed. I don't have many people that I truly trust, you're one of the few. I can't lose this either. I was just afraid that you would be uncomfortable with my touch after..." Derek trailed off this time, his hand still clasped gently around Stiles' arm.
"Uncomfortable?" Stiles frowned, a sense of relief in his tone. "You still think I regret it."
"Isn't that what you were going to say? If something changed, then you regret it."
Stiles' tongue swiped across his bottom lip.
That was answer enough for Derek. He dropped his hand to his side, taking a step back.
"I don't regret being with you. I just regret that it's changing the way you interact with me."
"I just don't want you to think I expect anything from you."
Stiles took a half step forward, "I don't. I promise. And I don't want you to think I expect anything from you."
"I don't." Derek shook his head.
Stiles nodded. "Good."
"Okay."
"Then last night was just...a moment of weakness. Two people letting out some frustration."
"Two friends benefiting from each other's company." Derek agreed.
Stiles' let out a breathy laugh, his chin falling to his chest.
Derek looked at Stiles with adoring eyes as a smile pulled at his lips.
"If you ever find yourself feeling alone, you have me." The words were spilling out of Derek's mouth before he knew what he was doing.
Stiles looked up. His lips parted in surprise at Derek's blatant honesty.
"And you have me," He breathed in response.
There was a pause as the two stared at one another. Neither daring to move or say anything.
Stiles' tongue swiped across his bottom lip, causing Derek's eyes to fall to his mouth.
Stiles' breath hitched.
One moment the two were caught in time, staring at one another in apprehension, daring the other to make the first move. The next, they were wrapped around each other. Bodies pressed impossibly close, mouths melded together, hands gripping at loose clothing.
"This isn't gonna change anything," Derek spoke against Stiles' lips.
"Just two friends benefiting from each other's company," Stiles agreed as his hands slid under Derek's shirt.
Derek allowed Stiles to lift his shirt over his head before doing the same to Stiles.
The plaid overshirt fell away easily, laying discarded with Derek's own Henley. They were soon joined by the rest of Stiles and Derek's clothes.
Derek's hand wound around the back of Stiles' head, before dipping in to kiss at his neck.
Anyone knew that you didn't bare your throat to a werewolf. It was dangerous. But Stiles wasn't anyone, and Derek wasn't dangerous. Not to Stiles.
The pair fell back onto the couch. Derek's discarded book from earlier, clattered to the floor. Neither stopped to gather it up though. They were too entranced in each other's touch.
Gentle gasps fell from Stiles' lips as Derek worked to cover him in his scent once more. Erasing the pungent smell of peroxide and dish soap.
When Derek finally entered Stiles, he couldn't hold back the growl that had been sitting at the back of his throat. His wolf wanted Stiles just as much as he did.
Blunt nails dug into Derek's back, the skin healing as quickly as it broke.
Gentle moans escaped Stiles' mouth, urging Derek to continue.
Stiles gripped at Derek's hair, suddenly pulling him into a heated kiss.
Derek couldn't help the growl that slipped into Stiles' mouth as he obliged. Despite being an alpha werewolf, he enjoyed Stiles' dominate tugs and pulls.
Their pants grew heavier between them as their climaxes built.
Stiles dug harshly at Derek's back, letting out a string of pleas as he was pushed over the edge. Derek's thrusts stuttered as he growled out Stiles' name. His own pleasure found in Stiles' begging.
Derek pressed a soft kiss to Stiles' lips before lifting himself off of him.
Stiles was a perfect mess sprawled out on Derek's couch. His hair in disarray from carded fingers. His lips parted and slightly swollen from desperate kisses. His torso covered in his own cum.
Derek wanted to remember this moment forever.
*AN*
This chapter gave me a lot of trouble so I hope you like it. 😊