Derek grabbed a blanket from the back of the chair to drape over a sleeping Stiles. He paused, blanket in hand.
Clenching his jaw, he tossed the blanket back onto the back of the chair. He knew this was stupid. He knew he should either leave him there or take him to the spare room, where Stiles usually stayed. However, he had already scooped Stiles into his arms.
Stiles barely stirred as Derek carried him to bed. To his bed. He laid him on the rumpled sheets and pulled the covers over him.
Stiles stirred once more, but never woke.
Derek stared down at him with a pained expression. His brows were pinched and his jaw clenched. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and wrap Stiles in his scent.
Instead, he tugged his shirt and pants off and slipped in next Stiles silently. He didn't reach for him. He didn't slide over to be close to him. He laid on his back, staring at the ceiling as if the wooden beams held the answers to his problems.
All they offered were splintered edges.
Sleeping with Stiles had been like getting a splinter wedged into his heart. Instead of pulling it out like he should have, he shoved it in deeper.
He looked over at a peacefully sleeping Stiles.
He knew it was only a matter of time before it festered.
-
When Stiles woke, it was not where he'd fallen asleep. He blinked as he fought to place the blue sheets he was tangled in. Rolling over he recognized the picture of the old Hale house that sat on the wall near the bathroom. He recognized the book light that sat on the side table. He recognized the leather jacket hung on the back of the door. He was in Derek's room. He sat up to find Derek was no where in sight.
He frowned, blinking at his surroundings. He had fallen asleep on Derek's couch. He'd only wanted to rest his eyes from all the reading. Why had Derek brought him to his room? Why not the spare room?
Derek heard the sound of running water from his bathroom sink. Stiles was up. He took in a deep breath. He could do this. Just act like nothing happened. Just two friends who benefited from each other's company.
"Morning," Derek said as he poured the freshly brewed coffee into two cups.
Stiles stepped into the kitchen and inhaled deeply, "mmm, coffee," he hummed.
Derek silently poured the milk and sugar into one cup and pushed it towards Stiles.
"Thank you," Stiles grinned at Derek before pressing the cup to his lips.
Derek closed his eyes as he took in the moment, his own coffee cup clasped in his hands. He'd done this exact morning with Stiles a dozen times and yet it felt different now.
"You always get my coffee exactly how I like it," Stiles hummed into his cup.
"How'd you sleep?" Derek asked.
"In your bed apparently."
Derek's fingers gripped his coffee cup harder.
"You've complained that the spare bed is too soft," Derek lied. "Besides, it's not the first time." He hoped Stiles didn't question him further.
Stiles' eyes squinted as if trying to recall the time when he made that claim.
Derek cleared his throat. "Scott called a minute ago. Boyd and Erica met up with Deaton's contact. He gave them African dream root. They think it can..." Derek paused, trying to remember Scott's exact words.
"Allow her to control her dreams." Stiles nodded. "There are compounds called Saponins that are present in the African dream root. It allows for vivid or lucid dreaming. It's also been used in treatments of delirium."
Derek raised his brows at Stiles.
"I uh, looked into it a bit back before I knew I was possessed." Stiles licked at his bottom lip.
Derek dropped his chin to his chest. Of course Stiles had looked into ways to cure himself.
"When are they wanting to do this?"
"In about an hour. They're gonna meet here."
Stiles nibbled at his bottom lip.
Derek set his now empty coffee cup down. "I'm gonna go shower."
As he stepped by Stiles he leaned in, his breath tickling his ear. "You're welcome to join me if you want."
Stiles swallowed as he turned to gape at a retreating Derek.
Derek knew the proposition was risky but Derek needed to touch Stiles. He was struggling with him being so close and yet so out of reach. He needed to feel grounded. Stiles made him feel that way.
When the shower door opened behind him, he couldn't help the relieved sigh that slipped out. Stiles' arms wrapped around his waist pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. Derek couldn't help but lean into him.
He opened his mouth; there was so much he wanted to say but the words wouldn't come.
Stiles pressed his chest against Derek's back. He never would have imagined this scenario happening. This was something that only ever happened in his dreams.
Derek turned in Stiles' arms and for a moment Stiles had thought he'd done something wrong. Derek looked troubled, regretful even. His lips were parted as if words wanted to escape. He was about to question him when Derek's lips crashed against his.
All worry and nerves were washed down the drain as Derek's hands drug down Stiles' body.
"I'll have to make another tea," Stiles said, pressed against the wall of Derek's shower.
"Shhh," Derek pressed his lips to Stiles' to silence him. He didn't want to think about anything except for what he was doing in that moment.
-
Stiles pulled on a pair of Derek's sweatpants and a t-shirt. He should really leave clothes here.
"I'm sure this will help convince everyone we're not sleeping together." Stiles laughed as he made his way towards the kitchen.
"You've worn my clothes before." Derek shrugged, following behind. It didn't happen often, but when Stiles crashed at his house he'd sometimes borrow Derek's clothes. He loved it.
"True." Stiles didn't mention the part where the pack had questioned him the first time it happened. He'd had to convince them that it wasn't anything romantic and he'd simply needed clothes.
"What are you doing?" Derek asked as Stiles scooped different herbs into a terry cloth.
"The pack will be here soon."
Derek's jaw clenched upon realizing that Stiles was making the concoction that erased his scent.
Stiles dipped the tea bag into the cup of hot water and checked the time. He wondered what Derek's scent on him smelled like. All he could smell was the faint scent of Derek's soap and remnants of his cologne. But his actual scent, the scent that the wolves seemed to be able to hone in on, was undetectable to Stiles' human nose.
Derek's head snapped towards the living room, alerting Stiles.
"The pack is here."
Stiles looked at the clock. He still had two minutes to go.
Derek and Stiles locked eyes.
Stiles lifted the tea bag and squeezed all the extra tannins he could, hoping it would still work.
Derek started for the living room. He didn't want to smell his scent disappear.
"Wait, where are you going? I need you to tell me if it works." Stiles took a step as if to stop Derek.
Derek's jaw clenched. He turned to see Stiles down the liquid, making the same face he had the night before.
The sound of the pack could be heard in the hallway.
Stiles bit down on his bottom lip as he watched Derek's face.
Derek balled his hands into fists at his side as his scent melted away. The splinter in his heart twisted.
"It worked," He growled, stalking out.
Stiles was too relieved to notice Derek's irritation. He threw away the evidence of his concoction as the pack filed into the living room.
*AN*
Hello! Thank you all for your patience as I deal with continued health issues and the passing of a family member. I should be back to posting regularly again. Hope you liked it! 😊