Instincts [Chapter Four]
Title: Instincts
Author: andromedacain
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: NC-17
Character/Pairing: Derek Hale/Scott McCall
Genre: Angst, romance, bits of fluff
Word count: 14K
Disclamer: I own nothing involved with Teen Wolf but the words I wrote below.
Summary: Scott's never done well with subtlety. Derek soon finds out.
The waitress plops down our coffee, eying me with amusement. It's not often you get to see a teen, shivering around a glower, wearing an angsty leather jacket Derek so graciously lent me (said he felt a little bad for almost giving me pneumonia), and quickly grabbing onto his coffee cup to drench some of the warmth from the little thing. I take a long, scalding sip, not even caring that the liquid is burning the inside of my throat, and continues its fiery little path down my pharynx. Too fucking cold to care.
Derek smirks at my actions, before he turns to the waitress. "Thanks, Cheryl, can we get a bowl of chicken soup and a slice of that pie I see up there?" He indicates the one he wants with a pointed finger.
"Anything for you Sugar," Cheryl says, shamelessly flirting even though she could easily pass for twice his age. Derek, the goddamn tool that he is, smiles and winks back at her, sending her off giggling behind her hand.
Still shivering, I shoot a glare at the other werewolf across from me over my cup. "Jesus, that lady's basically a cradle-snatcher," I point out. Derek raises an eyebrow to accompany his smirk. "And what's up with you, encouraging her like that?" I try with all my might to keep the jealousy out of my voice, but somehow it slips out.
Derek's smirk grows larger. "Aww , is wittle Scotty scawed he might have some competition?" Derek mocks, snorting into his own coffee cup at my outraged look.
"Look, I just think it's weird that you're flirting with a lady so much older than you, especially after what happened earlier," I say, lowering my voice at the end and raising my eyebrows suggestively.
I can see how hard Derek is trying to keep back his laughter. Finally, he sobers a little, at least enough to fully explain to me his actions. "Look, Scott, hard as it is to believe, I'm not exactly the most loved guy in town," Derek points out, sarcasm dripping from his words. If only he wasn't so goddamn sexy, I might have been able to get around how hot he is to reassure him how wrong those words sounded to me. He continues before I can grasp lucidity. "So, it's nice to find a place that you can go to without being judged, with good food, great service, and a solitude that's expected and encouraged when you need it." Derek sits back, stretching out a little. I actually have noticed how hard it usually is for him to feel comfortable out in public; usually, he's a little stiff, more uptight than usual, and a sadness is always flitting through his features. My eyes soften in empathy.
Not really thinking, I reach a hand across the table and grab Derek's. He stares at the two hands for a few seconds, not fully there. I deign to flip his hand over, intertwining our fingers. He doesn't make a move to stop me, nor does he seem very mad about it, so I smile, sit back in my seat, and dredge up as much warmth as I can from Derek's hand and my cup of coffee as possible.
Soon the food is served, and if Cheryl notices our hands she doesn't say anything, just raises her eyebrows and grins at Derek before sashaying off, probably to go serve some of the more rowdy customers who needed more attention.
As I set in to my soup, I think back over what brought us here. Most of what happened earlier is caught up in a whirlwind of hormones, lust, and instincts, but I can still remember parts of what happened, like humping Derek to within an inch of his life, humping his goddamn shoulder, and, putting all my other actions to shame, my complaints about my pants being too goddamn tight. I moan, cheeks flushing at just the thought of saying something like that to Derek, acting like a fucking animal. Jesus, why the hell is he letting a sick pervert like me hold his hand?
I look back to the hands, gaining a little comfort from the contact. God, his hands are so nice. They're, like, manly in their shape, but not, like, pudgy like usual guy hands. Fucking sexy as hell. I shut my eyes, warding off any perverted thoughts. Enough with the goddamn hormones already.
After my little freaky episode, and after Derek threw me in the lake to clear my head, I was caught up in my anger and didn't really think about anything but how disappointing it was to not be able to finish what was started between me and Derek. Not that last part, but the one before it, where we were actually having a decent conversation. That is, before he raced out on me.
I suddenly look up from my steaming soup, spoon halfway to my lips, to Derek. He gives me a questioning look, but I just ignore it, deciding to speak my mind. "Derek…I just want you to know, that…when I think of you, I definitely don't think of you as similar to Allison." Derek studies me, pie in front of him forgotten. I take a deep breath, plowing on. "Seriously. Like, what I had with her, it was…" I struggle to come up with a word. "Immature." I snap my fingers, a grin spreading on my face. Derek smirks at me through his sip of coffee, but I ignore it. "With you, it's like…I could stay with you forever." I study Derek, watching as he slowly swallows his sip, playing with the fork discarded on his plate, stealing quick glances to our hands, before he finally looks to me. In his eyes I read fear, some anger, and just a tiny bit of reciprocated feelings for me. But mostly fear.
I grin, stroking his hand with my thumb. "And it's for that reason that I wanna know about you. Everything. I wanna know exactly why you ran away from the car, why you're so afraid of commitment, why you're afraid to admit to being gay."
"Hey, wait!" Derek exclaims, startling a couple next to us. We ignore them. "It's not like I'm completely, one hundred percent gay or something! And I mean, it's a pretty good step for me to be holding your goddamn hand in public, for Christ's sake. Maybe I should just keep my hands to myself." He moves to take his hand away, but I frown, keeping my grip on it firm. Derek's eyebrow raises in amusement.
"Okay, maybe that's a step. But…I want everything with you. Everything. And I want you to want everything too."
Derek's mouth twists as he thinks it over. Finally, he looks up at me, staring me fully in the eyes. "Alright. I'm willing to play along. But first, you need to answer your own set of questions." I frown, wondering where this is going. Derek just smirks. "First of all. When in the hell did you realise all this shit? Like, how much you liked-" I correct him with the word "love". He concedes. "Loved me. And, like, when you decided you were okay with just switching over from chicks to dicks." I glower at his crudity, but he just sends me a cheeky grin.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I decide he has a right to know. Hell, I'm the one who said I wanted him to want to know about me. Sighing, I start. "Well, there was always a feeling behind the surface, you know? Like, every time I was around you I had this emotion that I didn't really understand, so I decided to just think of it as fear to keep the worry off my chest. But then, Allison broke up with me after that whole 'Alpha in the school' thing, and I finally had time to investigate that feeling." My mouth turns up in a soft smile as I remember. "It kept growing every time I saw you, or heard your voice, or even your name, and soon enough I realised I was in love. Not the shallow kind I had with Allison, but a really powerful thing, something I'd risk my life for." I look up to him, wondering if any of this is sinking in. He's wearing an unreadable expression, but he's receptive so I decide to keep going.
"Soon enough, the love showed me new things, like lust…" I trail off, my cheeks flushing red. Derek smirks. I squirm. "Like, seriously, you don't know how hard it was to not just jump you every single time we touched, or spoke, or fought." I stare at Derek intensely for a few minutes, before gathering my bearings. "So, one night, I fell asleep thinking of you, and the next minute, I was on your porch, staring up at an extremely pissed off yet terribly sexy werewolf who looked like he was gonna rip my head off. Then we went inside, you confronted me about my feelings, and, I don't know…I heard your heartbeat quickening at one point and I took it to be attraction, so I just kinda pounced." I shrug, not really repentant about that part. Derek had really seemed into it at first.
Derek's eyes narrow into a glare. "I really fucking hated that, you know."
It's my time to smirk. "Really? 'Cuz Derek Junior sure seemed to enjoy it," I state, laughing a little.
Derek's glare turns deathly. "Yeah, maybe. But I fucking hate to be taken off guard. It freaks me out, Scott. I'm not gonna warn you twice."
My eyes widen, any trace of a grin gone from my face. I study Derek, and I can tell there's a story behind that, but I refrain from saying anything. Obviously, if he felt comfortable telling me that, he would. I'll just have to stick around and hear it when he's ready.
Derek seems grateful when I don't push the subject, instead continuing. "After that night, I felt shattered. Torn to pieces. Being denied by the man I love sent me spiraling into a depression that was hard to get over." I scratch the back of my neck, a slow sadness creeping into my tone. "Before that whole thing between us, Jackson and I got in a fight and I got suspended for a week. I was actually supposed to come back today." I shoot a pointed glance at Derek.
He shrugs his shoulders, looking a little ashamed of himself, for many things. Finally, he speaks. "Who's Jackson?" He asks.
I find myself laughing. "Come on, you've met him. Big, blond jock who walks around like he's the best thing since Deadmau5, and looks at others like we're something his dog just shat out."
Derek laughs. "Oh, yeah, that kid. I scared the piss outta him once." He leans back, thinking back on good times. He looks up again. "What's a Deadmau5?"
I groan into my palm, deciding not to answer. He shrugs. Then, suddenly, he looks up again, only a more serious expression on his face. "Scott, I'm sorry for hurting you so much." I shrug, about to say it didn't really matter, before he stops me mid-sentence. "No, it does matter. I let my anger out on you and didn't let you explain your actions. I'm really sorry about that." He holds my gaze, seriousness and apology in his hazel green eyes.
I smile. "Yeah, okay, I accept your apology," I answer, and suddenly, it's like nothing happened. We're both smiling at each other with these goofy looks on our faces, but he hasn't noticed yet so for now I can bask in the feelings he's showing for me.
Soon he grasps reality again and clears his throat, trying to look manly as he looks away from me, staring out the window. I snicker. Really, he's so cute sometimes. I tap his hand with my forefinger, but he doesn't look away from the scenery. I tap harder, and he finally admits to my existence, looking to me with a rude stare, as if to say, "What?"
I smile again. "I've told you everything, so it's time you spilled, Derek," I say, loving the way his name rolls off my tongue so easily. If we weren't having such a serious conversation, I'd be dragging him off to the restrooms to lick that frown off his face, but for now all I can do is stroke his hand that I'm clutching like it's my life force or something. Somehow, I realise with a grin, as I was talking to Derek, I warmed up.
Sighing, Derek sits back, gesturing with his free hand. "What do you wanna know?" He asks, trying and failing to look nonchalant about this. He's obviously not used to sharing information about himself, and I'm turning out to be an exception to the rule. My stomach twists in excitement as I think of how far we've gotten in such a small amount of time.
I smile goofily, and he gives me a look. I finally catch it and force myself to calm down a little. "Okay, really, I wanna know why the hell you ran away from me in the car," I say, mouth turning down in a little frown.
Derek rubs at the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. He lets out a big breath. "Well, you know, it was getting to be a little too much for me, you know?" He stops, as if that's enough for me. I prompt him on with a look. He huffs out another breath before continuing. "I mean, you're making me feel all these emotions, ones I'm not used to, at least haven't experienced in a while, and so I got spooked. I had to get out before I got caught up in everything and let you kiss me," he states, smirking even as he blushes.
My mouth twists, and I'm caught between feeling elated at his truthfulness (and admittance that he wants me too) and feeling annoyed at how light he's trying to make this. I guess that could be my next question. "Why do you always have to turn something into a joke, or change the subject, or embarrass me?" I ask, a little of my frustration evident in my tone.
Derek shrugs. "What do you expect? That's who I am, when I'm not seriously pissed off for being dragged into your teenage melodrama," he explains, like I should know this. This time I huff out a breath. Jesus, we're gonna have just as hard a time keeping from strangling each other as we do from making out with each other. Then again, I think I could come to enjoy that. A lovey-dovey smile appears on my face and Derek makes a disgusted noise, which I pretend not to notice. I'm too caught up in the possibilities of a future together to let him get to me.
Finally, I look back to him. "Are you as committed to this as I am?" I ask, a little vulnerability in my actions.
Derek bites his lip, mulling over his answer. After a few minutes pass, I put up my free hand. "Know what, fine, let's save that question for la-"
"No, wait," Derek says, cutting me off, a slow blush creeping onto his face. I study him. "I, uh," he hesitates, unsure of how to continue. I let him think it out before he speaks again. "I'd be lying if I said you didn't affect me. And obviously, I'm willing to let this continue, at least for now," he states, looking pointedly down at our hands, "but as to commitment…it's too early to say. I think we should, you know, date or whatever so we can sort our feelings out or something," he says, rubbing at his bicep uncomfortably.
I'm caught up in absolute pure joy. Never, in a million years, did I expect Derek to suggest we start going out. Before I can stop myself I bring our hands up, kissing his like I did in the car, except refraining from making it so dirty. He watches me, a little amused, then smiles at the contact of my lips on his skin. We stare into each other's eyes, speaking without using our mouths, and finally, finally, I start to really relax. Derek loves me. Not as much as I love him, but hey, I didn't start out loving him. He hasn't said it point-blank, but I can tell.
We finally pull away from each other, settling back down to our food, which is now cold, but we really don't give a shit. Not as long as we have each other to look up to and smile randomly at.
-----
As Derek drops me off in front of the school, I try in vain to convince him to let me stay with him for the rest of the day. "Come on, Derek," I say, not even caring about the whine that runs through my voice, "school's almost over, my teacher's gonna hate me for walking in late, and Jackson'll probably be looking for a fight anyway," I say all this quickly, hoping my rapidity will confuse him and he'll just cave so he won't have to hear me whine again. No such luck.
Derek smirks at me. "Sorry, teeny-bopper, but you got a law that specifically states that if you don't go to school, it's declared truancy." I glare at him, hoping that if my powers of persuasion don't work, then maybe my anger will. He just shakes his head, laughing. "Yeah, Scott, you don't intimidate me at all," he states, arms crossed. I sigh, sinking down into my seat, pouting. He smirks again. "Alright, Kid, get out already, go learn something for once."
I look over to him, expression torn. I'm really still angry at him, but I'm more sad that I won't be able to see him for a few hours now. Before he can stop me, I lean forward, placing an innocent kiss on his cheek. He studies me, smiling a little, before he gives me my own little kiss on the cheek. Great. We've officially become first graders.
He laughs at my expression, before ruffling my hair. "Get going, Scott, before I really do change my mind and throw you out," he commands. I grumble, pick his hand up once more to kiss it goodbye, before I leave, watching him with my hands shrugged low in my pockets as he peels off, laughing at me. I gripe out a few cuss words before finally smiling slowly, caught up in the fact that I now have a boyfriend. A boyfriend named Derek. I can't contain my grin, walking slowly up the steps of the high school that now, somehow, doesn't seem so bad.
-----
As I try to sneak into Chemistry, hoping that walking on your tiptoes actually works, keeping my sights set on Stiles' encouraging gestures, I jump when Mr. Harris, standing at the blackboard with his back to his students, suddenly speaks. "I was hoping that due to your recent actions, Mr. McCall, you would at least have the decency to show up to class on time, but I guess it is rather strange of me to expect that from you." He turns around, hands on hips with a disapproving glare sent directly at me.
I try to smile, but it turns into a sort of grimace. "Sorry, Mr. Harris, I had some…stomach issues," I say, ignoring my fellow students' giggles as they imagined it to have something to do with diarrhea or some other gross shit. I walk forward, holding up a slip of paper. "I have a note," I say, grateful for Derek complying and writing a fake note for my absence.
Mr. Harris' eyebrow raises, and he refuses to take the slip of paper. "I'm not going to dignify that fallacy by accepting it; I'll just take you off of being absent and hope that I'll be relocated to a better school in the near-future," he states dryly, shooing me off to Stiles' and my lab table. I grimace at Stiles on my way, receiving a sympathetic frown and angry shaken fist directed at Mr. Harris' back, quickly thwarted at Mr. Harris' bark of "Stilinski!"
By the time I make it to the table, Stiles has shrunk low in his seat, hoping to avoid Mr. Harris' anger. But as I sit next to him, he can't keep himself quiet. "What the hell happened with Derek?" He asks, extremely anxious to hear what happened. I smile, and he squirms. "Come on! You didn't answer any of my texts or calls so your phone musta been off. I've been dying to hear the news! He didn't hurt you again, right?"
I hold up a restraining hand. "Come on, Stiles. Derek's a great guy, stop expecting the worst of him," I say, pleading with him to at least try to understand the man I love. Stiles grumbles a little, but finally lets off a little. Not enough to keep himself from asking questions.
"Come on, can't you tell me what went down?" He lowers his voice, mindful of Mr. Harris and his creepy bat-like ears.
I sigh. "Well, if you have to know…Derek and I, we're…well, we're going out." I can't hide my self-satisfied grin as I say this, so happy to tell someone. I look up to Stiles, surprised to see that he's not really breathing. "Stiles?" I ask, grabbing his arm. I shake him, forcing him to allow air into his lungs. Finally, after a few minutes, it seems like he can talk.
"What…what the fuck?" He whisper-screams, and I place a quieting hand over his mouth, smiling sweetly in Mr. Harris' direction. He grimaces, obviously not wanting to talk to me, as he goes back to writing what looks like gibberish to me on the board.
When he's not looking, I whack Stiles in the back of his head, my face furious. "Keep it down, idiot!" I command, really not wanting to get in trouble so soon after I've been admitted back into the halls of our high school.
Stiles glares at me as he rubs the back of his head. "Jesus, sorry if I was surprised that one day you're crying over your lost love, then the next you magically turn out to be the guy's boyfriend. Why are you so wet anyway?" He adds this as an afterthought, only noticing my slightly shivering body just now.
I flush, the embarrassing moments of today that transpired rushing through my head. No fucking way I'm telling Stiles about it, though. I wave a hand, shooing his question off. "Not your problem. All I'm saying is, there's a lot of shit that went on today, and through it all Derek and I found the ability to find happiness in each other. Not that I didn't already know we could." I somehow frown and smile at the same time as I muse over this. Stiles just stares blankly at me. I sigh. "Look, seriously, there's no point in going over all the details, just please trust me about that, and start being happy that the love of my life and I are going out." I throw away my weird little half-frown-half-smile for a full-blown, excited grin.
Stiles smiles back at me. "Yeah, man, I'm really happy for you. I know how he makes you feel and I'm glad he's not gonna turn you down again." He pauses, studying my face. "He's not, right?" He asks, biting a thumbnail. He's obviously anxious not to have a repeat of depressed love-lorn Scott reappearing.
I send Stiles a reassuring smile. "Nah, dude, it's actually really cool now. Derek's, like, opening up to me and everything. I told him everything over lunch, and he told me a lot too." I stop, thinking over our little conversation. I set my mouth in a determined grin. "I still haven't heard everything, though, so I'm gonna have to remind him soon. He's picking me up after school, maybe I will then." I smile to myself, wondering what we'll do after school.
Stiles shakes his head slowly, still smiling. "Jesus, you're such a dope. Guess Derek's lucky to have such an awesome guy love him." He places a hand on my shoulder, congratulating me.
I smile in return. "You sure you don't have feelings for me?" I ask, teasing.
Stiles pulls a fake wounded face. "Oh, you got me, Scott. I love you so much, have been since we first met in pre-school; I decided then and there that I loved you forever, and have been secretly pining for you ever since!" He clutches at his chest to add to the dramatic effect.
Rolling my eyes and grinning, I respond in kind. "Oh, Stiles, I love you too!"
Our mutual laughter is interrupted by a voice I know well. "What do you know, Danny, looks like McCall and Stilinski like boys just as much as you!" I slowly turn around to see Jackson, smirking at me and Stiles.
I smirk back, taking in the injuries I caused to Jackson. I had regretted it at first, but now that I see my handiwork, I'm extremely proud of myself. "Didja have to go to the hospital?" I ask him, ignoring his words. They don't really matter to me; he doesn't even know I'm gay. The only thing that bothers me is people actually think I could be gay for Stiles. I suppress a shudder.
In response to my question, Jackson bristles. His mouth is open, about to start in with the insults, when Danny shushes us. "You know, somebody in this class actually wants to pass our midterms; you guys don't seem to really care, but leave me out of it." He gripes a little more at us before turning back around, scribbling some more notes down.
Jackson glares at me a little more before huffing out a breath and turning back around, listening to Mr. Harris' lecture. Stiles and I share a discreet high five before we stop talking, deciding to take Danny's warnings about midterms seriously and listen at least partially to what our teacher's saying. Too bad Derek's taking up too much of my thoughts to be able to even try to understand what Mr. Harris is blathering about.
-----
As the final bell of the day rings, I shoot out of my chair, startling my incredibly old and extremely frail Math teacher. She raises her eyebrows at me. I apologise, not really paying attention, as I throw my backpack onto my person and fast walk to the door, pushing past other kids in my hurry to reach my boyfriend.
At my locker, I shove some random crap into my bag, hoping it's what I need, before I close it and turn on my heel to leave. Just as I do so, I run into Stiles. We topple to the floor. I land on my ass. Rubbing it, I glare at my so-called 'best friend'. "What the hell, Stiles?" I ask him, before I realise I'm taking up valuable Derek-time. "Never mind, I don't really care." I ignore him, quickly pulling myself up before shooting off toward the school doors, breathing a sigh of relief once I escape the structure. I grin excitedly to myself when I see his Camaro, parked garishly in front of the school's entrance.
Practically sprinting, I race to his car, opening the door with an incredibly large shit-eating grin on my face. He looks up from where he was looking, fiddling with the radio, only to be taken off-guard and pulled into a slow, torturously chaste kiss. Rubbing my chapped lips against Derek's slightly less-chapped ones, I fight the urge to use tongue, trying to keep in mind that he hasn't really agreed to anything other than a few dates. It's hard, though. I'm about to throw all the shit I said earlier out the door, just because I've experienced his taste before and it's fucking amazing, when I'm suddenly cockblocked by a slap to the face. Literally.
Stumbling backwards out of the car, I fall back onto my ass. Looking up from the sidewalk and rubbing my sore muscle, I glare up at Derek. "What the hell, man?" I ask, tone accusatory.
Looking innocent, Derek just readjusts his seatbelt. "I was just defending myself against someone who promised no more sneak attacks," he states, shooting me a blatant glare before putting his car in drive. "And if this molester doesn't get in the goddamn car in five seconds, I'm leaving him to be beaten up by this Jason kid." He holds up a hand, then bends a pinkie down. "Four," he says, and I look back to see Jackson glaring at me. I quickly shoot up and into the car, just before Derek's thumb bends down and he races off, before I can even slam the door shut.
Pulling against the wind, I manage to shut the door without losing any limbs. I sigh, putting a seatbelt on before Derek manages to kill me. "It's Jackson, not Jason, by the way," I say, thinking back to what Derek said. He makes an uncaring noise as he switches lanes then yells at an idiot who cuts us off. I can't help but stare all lovey-dovey at him, imagining what I would do to make those cusses elicit from his mouth, only in pleasure instead.
Looking at me from the corners of his eyes, Derek quirks an eyebrow at my suddenly flushed face. I wave him off, shifting my pants to make them a little more comfortable for the constriction suddenly enforced by them. He shrugs.
Most of the car ride is silent, spent in contemplation of today's past events and events that could happen in the future. Suddenly, and much too soon, we pull up to my house, Derek idling in the driveway. I study Derek, wondering why we can't just hang out. I voice my query. "Hey, why don't you come in for a while?" I ask, a small smile on my face.
Derek studies me as well, eyebrow raised. "You gonna do anything without my okay?" He asks, eyes narrowed.
I sigh. "No, Derek, I won't. Just come on, man," I order, stepping out of the car. I shut the door on his sigh, then wait for him to exit his Camaro. Reluctantly, he pulls his keys out and in turn gets out, meeting me at the hood of the car. I smile at him before heading up the walk to the door, digging for my key and opening it.
Looking apprehensive, Derek wipes his shoes off before entering my house, staring at everything. I chuckle as he takes in the sights, so he looks at me, glaring. "What?" He snaps out, arms crossed.
My laughter dies down to a smile. "Well, you just look so mystified by it all, so I was wondering if your house ever looked inhabitable," I state.
Derek grins dangerously. "Oh, picking fights are we?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking deceivingly nonchalant.
Leaning back against a wall, I study my fingernails. "Well, not so much picking a fight as hoping our 'fight' will turn into a make out session," I concede, grin equally dangerous.
Derek bites back his laughter, covering it up with a growl. "We'll just have to see about that!" He exclaims, and he crouches, playful in his actions, grin transparent.
My eyes widen, not used to seeing this side to Derek. My grin widens. I like it. Hoping to keep the good mood going, I mimic Derek, crouching down and eliciting my own growl.
Still grinning, Derek moves first, going for my chest, and I jump, using my werewolf powers to spin in midair and land behind him, catching him by surprise and wrapping my arms around his waist. He laughs, trying to turn around and get free at the same time, but I just hold him tighter. No way I'm letting him go. As I place my mouth on his fully-exposed neck, mouthing at the flesh, I lose concentration at the feel and taste of him.
Derek moans, letting himself go for only a second, before he gently elbows me in the stomach. I hold my side, pretending he really hurt me. I double over. "Oh, Jesus," I wheeze out, coughing to add to the effect.
Derek, surprised, comes up to me. "Scott? You okay?" He asks, bending down to my level and reaching out a comforting hand. Grinning against my knees, I grab his wrist, pulling him down and jumping on top of him, using all of my strength to keep him from escaping this time. By the time he's finished squirming, looking for an opening, I've got my legs pinning his down, hands around his wrists keeping them from clawing at me, tongue in his mouth just because I can. Fuck taking things slow.
Growling, Derek tries once again to escape me, but I silence him by deepening our kiss, sucking on his tongue. He goes limp beneath me, fingernails digging into his palms as he tries to control his feelings. I release him from our kiss, staring down at him. "It's okay to let go, Derek," I whisper, eyes full of the love I've been trying to express for so long. His own are conflicted, unsure if he's ready to become vulnerable again and give in to his feelings. Placing a small, loving kiss on his lips, I smile down at Derek. "I love you, Derek," I state simply, meaning every word.
Staring up at me with a shocked, hard to read look, Derek's mouth pops open. Confused, I give him a questioning look. Face heating up, red tinting his entire skin, Derek whispers something. I can't hear it. Frustrated that he has to do something embarrassing, Derek sighs. "Sa-say it again?" He asks, licking his lips.
My gaze is still curious, before I realise. Smiling again, I kiss Derek's adorably reddened nose. "I," kiss to the forehead, "love," kiss to his right cheek, "you," kiss to his left cheek, "Derek," kiss to his jaw, "Hale." I end by kissing his lips, licking at them. He readily opens his mouth, tugging his hands out of my slackened grasp to place around my neck, pulling me further down. Smiling into the kiss, he bites my lip and runs a hand through my hair. Utterly boner-inducing. I'm about to move one of my hands under his shirt, when I hear a startled noise. Distracted, I look up from Derek, mid-kiss, to see my mother, shocked, taking in the sight of her only son making out with the town outcast. Who also just so happens to be male.
Derek, noticing my mom, quickly pulls away from me, jumping up and shooting away from me, as if Mom didn't already know what happened. Both Derek and I are flushed red, but I swallow my mortification down as I slowly stand up, pulling at the hem of my shirt. Mom's just standing there, keys midway to her pocket, purse dangling from her outstretched hand. I can understand her thought process: "First my son gets suspended, now he's making out with the most hated person in town? Who also happens to be male?" I stop myself from apologising in advance for the therapy she's gonna need for all the crazy shit I've done. And she doesn't even know I'm a werewolf.
"Mom," I say, but she cuts me off.
"No. Just…no. You two," she snaps, glaring first at me, then Derek, before setting her shit down, "sit the hell down. Right now." She points at the uncomfortable wooden chairs we almost never use, and now I really know just how deep in shit I am. I shoot Derek an apologetic look before I sit down, hoping that Mom decides to go easy on us.
Author: andromedacain
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: NC-17
Character/Pairing: Derek Hale/Scott McCall
Genre: Angst, romance, bits of fluff
Word count: 14K
Disclamer: I own nothing involved with Teen Wolf but the words I wrote below.
Summary: Scott's never done well with subtlety. Derek soon finds out.
The waitress plops down our coffee, eying me with amusement. It's not often you get to see a teen, shivering around a glower, wearing an angsty leather jacket Derek so graciously lent me (said he felt a little bad for almost giving me pneumonia), and quickly grabbing onto his coffee cup to drench some of the warmth from the little thing. I take a long, scalding sip, not even caring that the liquid is burning the inside of my throat, and continues its fiery little path down my pharynx. Too fucking cold to care.
Derek smirks at my actions, before he turns to the waitress. "Thanks, Cheryl, can we get a bowl of chicken soup and a slice of that pie I see up there?" He indicates the one he wants with a pointed finger.
"Anything for you Sugar," Cheryl says, shamelessly flirting even though she could easily pass for twice his age. Derek, the goddamn tool that he is, smiles and winks back at her, sending her off giggling behind her hand.
Still shivering, I shoot a glare at the other werewolf across from me over my cup. "Jesus, that lady's basically a cradle-snatcher," I point out. Derek raises an eyebrow to accompany his smirk. "And what's up with you, encouraging her like that?" I try with all my might to keep the jealousy out of my voice, but somehow it slips out.
Derek's smirk grows larger. "Aww , is wittle Scotty scawed he might have some competition?" Derek mocks, snorting into his own coffee cup at my outraged look.
"Look, I just think it's weird that you're flirting with a lady so much older than you, especially after what happened earlier," I say, lowering my voice at the end and raising my eyebrows suggestively.
I can see how hard Derek is trying to keep back his laughter. Finally, he sobers a little, at least enough to fully explain to me his actions. "Look, Scott, hard as it is to believe, I'm not exactly the most loved guy in town," Derek points out, sarcasm dripping from his words. If only he wasn't so goddamn sexy, I might have been able to get around how hot he is to reassure him how wrong those words sounded to me. He continues before I can grasp lucidity. "So, it's nice to find a place that you can go to without being judged, with good food, great service, and a solitude that's expected and encouraged when you need it." Derek sits back, stretching out a little. I actually have noticed how hard it usually is for him to feel comfortable out in public; usually, he's a little stiff, more uptight than usual, and a sadness is always flitting through his features. My eyes soften in empathy.
Not really thinking, I reach a hand across the table and grab Derek's. He stares at the two hands for a few seconds, not fully there. I deign to flip his hand over, intertwining our fingers. He doesn't make a move to stop me, nor does he seem very mad about it, so I smile, sit back in my seat, and dredge up as much warmth as I can from Derek's hand and my cup of coffee as possible.
Soon the food is served, and if Cheryl notices our hands she doesn't say anything, just raises her eyebrows and grins at Derek before sashaying off, probably to go serve some of the more rowdy customers who needed more attention.
As I set in to my soup, I think back over what brought us here. Most of what happened earlier is caught up in a whirlwind of hormones, lust, and instincts, but I can still remember parts of what happened, like humping Derek to within an inch of his life, humping his goddamn shoulder, and, putting all my other actions to shame, my complaints about my pants being too goddamn tight. I moan, cheeks flushing at just the thought of saying something like that to Derek, acting like a fucking animal. Jesus, why the hell is he letting a sick pervert like me hold his hand?
I look back to the hands, gaining a little comfort from the contact. God, his hands are so nice. They're, like, manly in their shape, but not, like, pudgy like usual guy hands. Fucking sexy as hell. I shut my eyes, warding off any perverted thoughts. Enough with the goddamn hormones already.
After my little freaky episode, and after Derek threw me in the lake to clear my head, I was caught up in my anger and didn't really think about anything but how disappointing it was to not be able to finish what was started between me and Derek. Not that last part, but the one before it, where we were actually having a decent conversation. That is, before he raced out on me.
I suddenly look up from my steaming soup, spoon halfway to my lips, to Derek. He gives me a questioning look, but I just ignore it, deciding to speak my mind. "Derek…I just want you to know, that…when I think of you, I definitely don't think of you as similar to Allison." Derek studies me, pie in front of him forgotten. I take a deep breath, plowing on. "Seriously. Like, what I had with her, it was…" I struggle to come up with a word. "Immature." I snap my fingers, a grin spreading on my face. Derek smirks at me through his sip of coffee, but I ignore it. "With you, it's like…I could stay with you forever." I study Derek, watching as he slowly swallows his sip, playing with the fork discarded on his plate, stealing quick glances to our hands, before he finally looks to me. In his eyes I read fear, some anger, and just a tiny bit of reciprocated feelings for me. But mostly fear.
I grin, stroking his hand with my thumb. "And it's for that reason that I wanna know about you. Everything. I wanna know exactly why you ran away from the car, why you're so afraid of commitment, why you're afraid to admit to being gay."
"Hey, wait!" Derek exclaims, startling a couple next to us. We ignore them. "It's not like I'm completely, one hundred percent gay or something! And I mean, it's a pretty good step for me to be holding your goddamn hand in public, for Christ's sake. Maybe I should just keep my hands to myself." He moves to take his hand away, but I frown, keeping my grip on it firm. Derek's eyebrow raises in amusement.
"Okay, maybe that's a step. But…I want everything with you. Everything. And I want you to want everything too."
Derek's mouth twists as he thinks it over. Finally, he looks up at me, staring me fully in the eyes. "Alright. I'm willing to play along. But first, you need to answer your own set of questions." I frown, wondering where this is going. Derek just smirks. "First of all. When in the hell did you realise all this shit? Like, how much you liked-" I correct him with the word "love". He concedes. "Loved me. And, like, when you decided you were okay with just switching over from chicks to dicks." I glower at his crudity, but he just sends me a cheeky grin.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I decide he has a right to know. Hell, I'm the one who said I wanted him to want to know about me. Sighing, I start. "Well, there was always a feeling behind the surface, you know? Like, every time I was around you I had this emotion that I didn't really understand, so I decided to just think of it as fear to keep the worry off my chest. But then, Allison broke up with me after that whole 'Alpha in the school' thing, and I finally had time to investigate that feeling." My mouth turns up in a soft smile as I remember. "It kept growing every time I saw you, or heard your voice, or even your name, and soon enough I realised I was in love. Not the shallow kind I had with Allison, but a really powerful thing, something I'd risk my life for." I look up to him, wondering if any of this is sinking in. He's wearing an unreadable expression, but he's receptive so I decide to keep going.
"Soon enough, the love showed me new things, like lust…" I trail off, my cheeks flushing red. Derek smirks. I squirm. "Like, seriously, you don't know how hard it was to not just jump you every single time we touched, or spoke, or fought." I stare at Derek intensely for a few minutes, before gathering my bearings. "So, one night, I fell asleep thinking of you, and the next minute, I was on your porch, staring up at an extremely pissed off yet terribly sexy werewolf who looked like he was gonna rip my head off. Then we went inside, you confronted me about my feelings, and, I don't know…I heard your heartbeat quickening at one point and I took it to be attraction, so I just kinda pounced." I shrug, not really repentant about that part. Derek had really seemed into it at first.
Derek's eyes narrow into a glare. "I really fucking hated that, you know."
It's my time to smirk. "Really? 'Cuz Derek Junior sure seemed to enjoy it," I state, laughing a little.
Derek's glare turns deathly. "Yeah, maybe. But I fucking hate to be taken off guard. It freaks me out, Scott. I'm not gonna warn you twice."
My eyes widen, any trace of a grin gone from my face. I study Derek, and I can tell there's a story behind that, but I refrain from saying anything. Obviously, if he felt comfortable telling me that, he would. I'll just have to stick around and hear it when he's ready.
Derek seems grateful when I don't push the subject, instead continuing. "After that night, I felt shattered. Torn to pieces. Being denied by the man I love sent me spiraling into a depression that was hard to get over." I scratch the back of my neck, a slow sadness creeping into my tone. "Before that whole thing between us, Jackson and I got in a fight and I got suspended for a week. I was actually supposed to come back today." I shoot a pointed glance at Derek.
He shrugs his shoulders, looking a little ashamed of himself, for many things. Finally, he speaks. "Who's Jackson?" He asks.
I find myself laughing. "Come on, you've met him. Big, blond jock who walks around like he's the best thing since Deadmau5, and looks at others like we're something his dog just shat out."
Derek laughs. "Oh, yeah, that kid. I scared the piss outta him once." He leans back, thinking back on good times. He looks up again. "What's a Deadmau5?"
I groan into my palm, deciding not to answer. He shrugs. Then, suddenly, he looks up again, only a more serious expression on his face. "Scott, I'm sorry for hurting you so much." I shrug, about to say it didn't really matter, before he stops me mid-sentence. "No, it does matter. I let my anger out on you and didn't let you explain your actions. I'm really sorry about that." He holds my gaze, seriousness and apology in his hazel green eyes.
I smile. "Yeah, okay, I accept your apology," I answer, and suddenly, it's like nothing happened. We're both smiling at each other with these goofy looks on our faces, but he hasn't noticed yet so for now I can bask in the feelings he's showing for me.
Soon he grasps reality again and clears his throat, trying to look manly as he looks away from me, staring out the window. I snicker. Really, he's so cute sometimes. I tap his hand with my forefinger, but he doesn't look away from the scenery. I tap harder, and he finally admits to my existence, looking to me with a rude stare, as if to say, "What?"
I smile again. "I've told you everything, so it's time you spilled, Derek," I say, loving the way his name rolls off my tongue so easily. If we weren't having such a serious conversation, I'd be dragging him off to the restrooms to lick that frown off his face, but for now all I can do is stroke his hand that I'm clutching like it's my life force or something. Somehow, I realise with a grin, as I was talking to Derek, I warmed up.
Sighing, Derek sits back, gesturing with his free hand. "What do you wanna know?" He asks, trying and failing to look nonchalant about this. He's obviously not used to sharing information about himself, and I'm turning out to be an exception to the rule. My stomach twists in excitement as I think of how far we've gotten in such a small amount of time.
I smile goofily, and he gives me a look. I finally catch it and force myself to calm down a little. "Okay, really, I wanna know why the hell you ran away from me in the car," I say, mouth turning down in a little frown.
Derek rubs at the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. He lets out a big breath. "Well, you know, it was getting to be a little too much for me, you know?" He stops, as if that's enough for me. I prompt him on with a look. He huffs out another breath before continuing. "I mean, you're making me feel all these emotions, ones I'm not used to, at least haven't experienced in a while, and so I got spooked. I had to get out before I got caught up in everything and let you kiss me," he states, smirking even as he blushes.
My mouth twists, and I'm caught between feeling elated at his truthfulness (and admittance that he wants me too) and feeling annoyed at how light he's trying to make this. I guess that could be my next question. "Why do you always have to turn something into a joke, or change the subject, or embarrass me?" I ask, a little of my frustration evident in my tone.
Derek shrugs. "What do you expect? That's who I am, when I'm not seriously pissed off for being dragged into your teenage melodrama," he explains, like I should know this. This time I huff out a breath. Jesus, we're gonna have just as hard a time keeping from strangling each other as we do from making out with each other. Then again, I think I could come to enjoy that. A lovey-dovey smile appears on my face and Derek makes a disgusted noise, which I pretend not to notice. I'm too caught up in the possibilities of a future together to let him get to me.
Finally, I look back to him. "Are you as committed to this as I am?" I ask, a little vulnerability in my actions.
Derek bites his lip, mulling over his answer. After a few minutes pass, I put up my free hand. "Know what, fine, let's save that question for la-"
"No, wait," Derek says, cutting me off, a slow blush creeping onto his face. I study him. "I, uh," he hesitates, unsure of how to continue. I let him think it out before he speaks again. "I'd be lying if I said you didn't affect me. And obviously, I'm willing to let this continue, at least for now," he states, looking pointedly down at our hands, "but as to commitment…it's too early to say. I think we should, you know, date or whatever so we can sort our feelings out or something," he says, rubbing at his bicep uncomfortably.
I'm caught up in absolute pure joy. Never, in a million years, did I expect Derek to suggest we start going out. Before I can stop myself I bring our hands up, kissing his like I did in the car, except refraining from making it so dirty. He watches me, a little amused, then smiles at the contact of my lips on his skin. We stare into each other's eyes, speaking without using our mouths, and finally, finally, I start to really relax. Derek loves me. Not as much as I love him, but hey, I didn't start out loving him. He hasn't said it point-blank, but I can tell.
We finally pull away from each other, settling back down to our food, which is now cold, but we really don't give a shit. Not as long as we have each other to look up to and smile randomly at.
-----
As Derek drops me off in front of the school, I try in vain to convince him to let me stay with him for the rest of the day. "Come on, Derek," I say, not even caring about the whine that runs through my voice, "school's almost over, my teacher's gonna hate me for walking in late, and Jackson'll probably be looking for a fight anyway," I say all this quickly, hoping my rapidity will confuse him and he'll just cave so he won't have to hear me whine again. No such luck.
Derek smirks at me. "Sorry, teeny-bopper, but you got a law that specifically states that if you don't go to school, it's declared truancy." I glare at him, hoping that if my powers of persuasion don't work, then maybe my anger will. He just shakes his head, laughing. "Yeah, Scott, you don't intimidate me at all," he states, arms crossed. I sigh, sinking down into my seat, pouting. He smirks again. "Alright, Kid, get out already, go learn something for once."
I look over to him, expression torn. I'm really still angry at him, but I'm more sad that I won't be able to see him for a few hours now. Before he can stop me, I lean forward, placing an innocent kiss on his cheek. He studies me, smiling a little, before he gives me my own little kiss on the cheek. Great. We've officially become first graders.
He laughs at my expression, before ruffling my hair. "Get going, Scott, before I really do change my mind and throw you out," he commands. I grumble, pick his hand up once more to kiss it goodbye, before I leave, watching him with my hands shrugged low in my pockets as he peels off, laughing at me. I gripe out a few cuss words before finally smiling slowly, caught up in the fact that I now have a boyfriend. A boyfriend named Derek. I can't contain my grin, walking slowly up the steps of the high school that now, somehow, doesn't seem so bad.
-----
As I try to sneak into Chemistry, hoping that walking on your tiptoes actually works, keeping my sights set on Stiles' encouraging gestures, I jump when Mr. Harris, standing at the blackboard with his back to his students, suddenly speaks. "I was hoping that due to your recent actions, Mr. McCall, you would at least have the decency to show up to class on time, but I guess it is rather strange of me to expect that from you." He turns around, hands on hips with a disapproving glare sent directly at me.
I try to smile, but it turns into a sort of grimace. "Sorry, Mr. Harris, I had some…stomach issues," I say, ignoring my fellow students' giggles as they imagined it to have something to do with diarrhea or some other gross shit. I walk forward, holding up a slip of paper. "I have a note," I say, grateful for Derek complying and writing a fake note for my absence.
Mr. Harris' eyebrow raises, and he refuses to take the slip of paper. "I'm not going to dignify that fallacy by accepting it; I'll just take you off of being absent and hope that I'll be relocated to a better school in the near-future," he states dryly, shooing me off to Stiles' and my lab table. I grimace at Stiles on my way, receiving a sympathetic frown and angry shaken fist directed at Mr. Harris' back, quickly thwarted at Mr. Harris' bark of "Stilinski!"
By the time I make it to the table, Stiles has shrunk low in his seat, hoping to avoid Mr. Harris' anger. But as I sit next to him, he can't keep himself quiet. "What the hell happened with Derek?" He asks, extremely anxious to hear what happened. I smile, and he squirms. "Come on! You didn't answer any of my texts or calls so your phone musta been off. I've been dying to hear the news! He didn't hurt you again, right?"
I hold up a restraining hand. "Come on, Stiles. Derek's a great guy, stop expecting the worst of him," I say, pleading with him to at least try to understand the man I love. Stiles grumbles a little, but finally lets off a little. Not enough to keep himself from asking questions.
"Come on, can't you tell me what went down?" He lowers his voice, mindful of Mr. Harris and his creepy bat-like ears.
I sigh. "Well, if you have to know…Derek and I, we're…well, we're going out." I can't hide my self-satisfied grin as I say this, so happy to tell someone. I look up to Stiles, surprised to see that he's not really breathing. "Stiles?" I ask, grabbing his arm. I shake him, forcing him to allow air into his lungs. Finally, after a few minutes, it seems like he can talk.
"What…what the fuck?" He whisper-screams, and I place a quieting hand over his mouth, smiling sweetly in Mr. Harris' direction. He grimaces, obviously not wanting to talk to me, as he goes back to writing what looks like gibberish to me on the board.
When he's not looking, I whack Stiles in the back of his head, my face furious. "Keep it down, idiot!" I command, really not wanting to get in trouble so soon after I've been admitted back into the halls of our high school.
Stiles glares at me as he rubs the back of his head. "Jesus, sorry if I was surprised that one day you're crying over your lost love, then the next you magically turn out to be the guy's boyfriend. Why are you so wet anyway?" He adds this as an afterthought, only noticing my slightly shivering body just now.
I flush, the embarrassing moments of today that transpired rushing through my head. No fucking way I'm telling Stiles about it, though. I wave a hand, shooing his question off. "Not your problem. All I'm saying is, there's a lot of shit that went on today, and through it all Derek and I found the ability to find happiness in each other. Not that I didn't already know we could." I somehow frown and smile at the same time as I muse over this. Stiles just stares blankly at me. I sigh. "Look, seriously, there's no point in going over all the details, just please trust me about that, and start being happy that the love of my life and I are going out." I throw away my weird little half-frown-half-smile for a full-blown, excited grin.
Stiles smiles back at me. "Yeah, man, I'm really happy for you. I know how he makes you feel and I'm glad he's not gonna turn you down again." He pauses, studying my face. "He's not, right?" He asks, biting a thumbnail. He's obviously anxious not to have a repeat of depressed love-lorn Scott reappearing.
I send Stiles a reassuring smile. "Nah, dude, it's actually really cool now. Derek's, like, opening up to me and everything. I told him everything over lunch, and he told me a lot too." I stop, thinking over our little conversation. I set my mouth in a determined grin. "I still haven't heard everything, though, so I'm gonna have to remind him soon. He's picking me up after school, maybe I will then." I smile to myself, wondering what we'll do after school.
Stiles shakes his head slowly, still smiling. "Jesus, you're such a dope. Guess Derek's lucky to have such an awesome guy love him." He places a hand on my shoulder, congratulating me.
I smile in return. "You sure you don't have feelings for me?" I ask, teasing.
Stiles pulls a fake wounded face. "Oh, you got me, Scott. I love you so much, have been since we first met in pre-school; I decided then and there that I loved you forever, and have been secretly pining for you ever since!" He clutches at his chest to add to the dramatic effect.
Rolling my eyes and grinning, I respond in kind. "Oh, Stiles, I love you too!"
Our mutual laughter is interrupted by a voice I know well. "What do you know, Danny, looks like McCall and Stilinski like boys just as much as you!" I slowly turn around to see Jackson, smirking at me and Stiles.
I smirk back, taking in the injuries I caused to Jackson. I had regretted it at first, but now that I see my handiwork, I'm extremely proud of myself. "Didja have to go to the hospital?" I ask him, ignoring his words. They don't really matter to me; he doesn't even know I'm gay. The only thing that bothers me is people actually think I could be gay for Stiles. I suppress a shudder.
In response to my question, Jackson bristles. His mouth is open, about to start in with the insults, when Danny shushes us. "You know, somebody in this class actually wants to pass our midterms; you guys don't seem to really care, but leave me out of it." He gripes a little more at us before turning back around, scribbling some more notes down.
Jackson glares at me a little more before huffing out a breath and turning back around, listening to Mr. Harris' lecture. Stiles and I share a discreet high five before we stop talking, deciding to take Danny's warnings about midterms seriously and listen at least partially to what our teacher's saying. Too bad Derek's taking up too much of my thoughts to be able to even try to understand what Mr. Harris is blathering about.
-----
As the final bell of the day rings, I shoot out of my chair, startling my incredibly old and extremely frail Math teacher. She raises her eyebrows at me. I apologise, not really paying attention, as I throw my backpack onto my person and fast walk to the door, pushing past other kids in my hurry to reach my boyfriend.
At my locker, I shove some random crap into my bag, hoping it's what I need, before I close it and turn on my heel to leave. Just as I do so, I run into Stiles. We topple to the floor. I land on my ass. Rubbing it, I glare at my so-called 'best friend'. "What the hell, Stiles?" I ask him, before I realise I'm taking up valuable Derek-time. "Never mind, I don't really care." I ignore him, quickly pulling myself up before shooting off toward the school doors, breathing a sigh of relief once I escape the structure. I grin excitedly to myself when I see his Camaro, parked garishly in front of the school's entrance.
Practically sprinting, I race to his car, opening the door with an incredibly large shit-eating grin on my face. He looks up from where he was looking, fiddling with the radio, only to be taken off-guard and pulled into a slow, torturously chaste kiss. Rubbing my chapped lips against Derek's slightly less-chapped ones, I fight the urge to use tongue, trying to keep in mind that he hasn't really agreed to anything other than a few dates. It's hard, though. I'm about to throw all the shit I said earlier out the door, just because I've experienced his taste before and it's fucking amazing, when I'm suddenly cockblocked by a slap to the face. Literally.
Stumbling backwards out of the car, I fall back onto my ass. Looking up from the sidewalk and rubbing my sore muscle, I glare up at Derek. "What the hell, man?" I ask, tone accusatory.
Looking innocent, Derek just readjusts his seatbelt. "I was just defending myself against someone who promised no more sneak attacks," he states, shooting me a blatant glare before putting his car in drive. "And if this molester doesn't get in the goddamn car in five seconds, I'm leaving him to be beaten up by this Jason kid." He holds up a hand, then bends a pinkie down. "Four," he says, and I look back to see Jackson glaring at me. I quickly shoot up and into the car, just before Derek's thumb bends down and he races off, before I can even slam the door shut.
Pulling against the wind, I manage to shut the door without losing any limbs. I sigh, putting a seatbelt on before Derek manages to kill me. "It's Jackson, not Jason, by the way," I say, thinking back to what Derek said. He makes an uncaring noise as he switches lanes then yells at an idiot who cuts us off. I can't help but stare all lovey-dovey at him, imagining what I would do to make those cusses elicit from his mouth, only in pleasure instead.
Looking at me from the corners of his eyes, Derek quirks an eyebrow at my suddenly flushed face. I wave him off, shifting my pants to make them a little more comfortable for the constriction suddenly enforced by them. He shrugs.
Most of the car ride is silent, spent in contemplation of today's past events and events that could happen in the future. Suddenly, and much too soon, we pull up to my house, Derek idling in the driveway. I study Derek, wondering why we can't just hang out. I voice my query. "Hey, why don't you come in for a while?" I ask, a small smile on my face.
Derek studies me as well, eyebrow raised. "You gonna do anything without my okay?" He asks, eyes narrowed.
I sigh. "No, Derek, I won't. Just come on, man," I order, stepping out of the car. I shut the door on his sigh, then wait for him to exit his Camaro. Reluctantly, he pulls his keys out and in turn gets out, meeting me at the hood of the car. I smile at him before heading up the walk to the door, digging for my key and opening it.
Looking apprehensive, Derek wipes his shoes off before entering my house, staring at everything. I chuckle as he takes in the sights, so he looks at me, glaring. "What?" He snaps out, arms crossed.
My laughter dies down to a smile. "Well, you just look so mystified by it all, so I was wondering if your house ever looked inhabitable," I state.
Derek grins dangerously. "Oh, picking fights are we?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets, looking deceivingly nonchalant.
Leaning back against a wall, I study my fingernails. "Well, not so much picking a fight as hoping our 'fight' will turn into a make out session," I concede, grin equally dangerous.
Derek bites back his laughter, covering it up with a growl. "We'll just have to see about that!" He exclaims, and he crouches, playful in his actions, grin transparent.
My eyes widen, not used to seeing this side to Derek. My grin widens. I like it. Hoping to keep the good mood going, I mimic Derek, crouching down and eliciting my own growl.
Still grinning, Derek moves first, going for my chest, and I jump, using my werewolf powers to spin in midair and land behind him, catching him by surprise and wrapping my arms around his waist. He laughs, trying to turn around and get free at the same time, but I just hold him tighter. No way I'm letting him go. As I place my mouth on his fully-exposed neck, mouthing at the flesh, I lose concentration at the feel and taste of him.
Derek moans, letting himself go for only a second, before he gently elbows me in the stomach. I hold my side, pretending he really hurt me. I double over. "Oh, Jesus," I wheeze out, coughing to add to the effect.
Derek, surprised, comes up to me. "Scott? You okay?" He asks, bending down to my level and reaching out a comforting hand. Grinning against my knees, I grab his wrist, pulling him down and jumping on top of him, using all of my strength to keep him from escaping this time. By the time he's finished squirming, looking for an opening, I've got my legs pinning his down, hands around his wrists keeping them from clawing at me, tongue in his mouth just because I can. Fuck taking things slow.
Growling, Derek tries once again to escape me, but I silence him by deepening our kiss, sucking on his tongue. He goes limp beneath me, fingernails digging into his palms as he tries to control his feelings. I release him from our kiss, staring down at him. "It's okay to let go, Derek," I whisper, eyes full of the love I've been trying to express for so long. His own are conflicted, unsure if he's ready to become vulnerable again and give in to his feelings. Placing a small, loving kiss on his lips, I smile down at Derek. "I love you, Derek," I state simply, meaning every word.
Staring up at me with a shocked, hard to read look, Derek's mouth pops open. Confused, I give him a questioning look. Face heating up, red tinting his entire skin, Derek whispers something. I can't hear it. Frustrated that he has to do something embarrassing, Derek sighs. "Sa-say it again?" He asks, licking his lips.
My gaze is still curious, before I realise. Smiling again, I kiss Derek's adorably reddened nose. "I," kiss to the forehead, "love," kiss to his right cheek, "you," kiss to his left cheek, "Derek," kiss to his jaw, "Hale." I end by kissing his lips, licking at them. He readily opens his mouth, tugging his hands out of my slackened grasp to place around my neck, pulling me further down. Smiling into the kiss, he bites my lip and runs a hand through my hair. Utterly boner-inducing. I'm about to move one of my hands under his shirt, when I hear a startled noise. Distracted, I look up from Derek, mid-kiss, to see my mother, shocked, taking in the sight of her only son making out with the town outcast. Who also just so happens to be male.
Derek, noticing my mom, quickly pulls away from me, jumping up and shooting away from me, as if Mom didn't already know what happened. Both Derek and I are flushed red, but I swallow my mortification down as I slowly stand up, pulling at the hem of my shirt. Mom's just standing there, keys midway to her pocket, purse dangling from her outstretched hand. I can understand her thought process: "First my son gets suspended, now he's making out with the most hated person in town? Who also happens to be male?" I stop myself from apologising in advance for the therapy she's gonna need for all the crazy shit I've done. And she doesn't even know I'm a werewolf.
"Mom," I say, but she cuts me off.
"No. Just…no. You two," she snaps, glaring first at me, then Derek, before setting her shit down, "sit the hell down. Right now." She points at the uncomfortable wooden chairs we almost never use, and now I really know just how deep in shit I am. I shoot Derek an apologetic look before I sit down, hoping that Mom decides to go easy on us.