Kings of the Moonlight

Pull me Down

We could be the kings of the moonlight, two young lovers and when the mood's right you'll hear me say I want you.

-

Derek can be a colossal idiot sometimes, he knows that, he's lived through it, but this has got to be one of the stupidest things he's ever done. Ever.

He feels so unbelievably gauche and he doesn't have the slightest idea as to what proper etiquette is for their particular situation. It's harrowing how he can barely even look at Stiles without feeling waves of culpability descend on him.

But then Stiles looks up at Derek, from where he reclines against the cool tiles beside the bathtub, he opens his arms wide and quirks his fingers and Derek all but falls in his embrace - relaxing instantly into the warmth radiated by the feel of Stiles' sumptuous skin against his.

They spend long minutes just like this, close and warm together. He's enveloped within Stiles' arms as they sprawl on the floor of the bathroom against the wall.

They haven't spoken since they untangled themselves back in Derek's study and headed towards the bathroom, not even in the consequent minutes in which Derek rooted around in the cabinet under the sink for a hand cloth, before giving up completely and just using ordinary bath towels for the cleanup instead.

Now, Derek drops his head against Stiles' shoulder and closes his eyes in guilty bliss. Stiles peppers feather-light kisses along his shoulder and the exposed line of his throat. They're barely even kisses really. Just soft, almost lazy brushes of sweet lips and the delicate sweeping of lashes against Derek's skin.

Stiles tightens his arms where they're wrapped around Derek's stomach, fingertips digging into the dips of his waist as he tries bring them closer.

Derek feels the tension curling inside of Stiles, he feels the hard breaths against his neck and he can almost hear Stiles' mind working.

Finally, Stiles sighs heavily and he says, "I broke up with Noah."

Derek's reaction is instantaneous. He tenses and moves to get up even as Stiles holds on tighter, hides his face in Derek's neck, closes his eyes. Stiles' voice is soft and quiet and yet it shatters through the silence, like raindrops breaking the surface of the ocean.

"I- it was few days after we, after we kissed," he says, and Derek can feel him gulp down the ball of tension in his throat so Derek moves then, breaking out of the longing grip of Stiles' arms, so that he can turn and regard him.

When he sees Stiles' downcast eyes and the corners of his mouth pulling down, he almost regrets moving away.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Derek says first, and he inwardly winces at his own lack of tact, at his utter selfishness but Stiles merely shrugs.

"I needed space," he says, making a strained sort of hum in the back of his throat as if it's taking all of his inborn determination and control not to cry. "I wanted some time for it to sink in, y'know?"

Derek looks at Stiles, he nods and he feels an empathetic hurt blooming in the centre of his chest in commiseration with him.

Stiles' eyes have misted over and his lips tremble in the hard line he has pressed them into, when he speaks again his voice shakes and catches and he wraps his arms around himself. "I was hurting."

Derek rests his back against the tub, watches Stiles as the hurt and anger broil in the expression of his eyes, how the embarrassment manifests in the way that his teeth sink savagely into the fragile skin of his lips.

Derek has no idea how to comfort Stiles, he's never been good at being able to soothe people, and he's never really learned the particular nature of speech that seems to come so easily for others. He's good at listening though, and he thinks that that might be best for Stiles right now, an outlet to unleash all of this pain.