Chapter 6

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Stiles looked as if he had been hit by a train and ran over multiple times. His brown eyes were slightly red from the crying, but as he wiped his nose with the bottom of his brown plaid shirt, Stiles couldn’t help but stare deeply into Derek’s eyes, who suddenly grew uncomfortable and had to stand up to breathe. 

“I---um,” Derek paced up and down the room that had grown darker.

From the window, Stiles saw that it was getting darker and the moon was covered with fluffy gray clouds. In fact, the entire sky was covered hidden behind the gray mask. Derek bit on his fingernails, and Stiles couldn’t help but think he was the cutest thing he had ever seen. 

“You think I’m beautiful,” Stiles broke the unbearable silence, a grin on the top of his face. No one  ever called him beautiful or handsome, and having heard Derek say that he was good looking was more than a shock of lightning, it was magic.

But as Stiles realized, maybe it concluded even more that this moment was just a dream, and he was still in his jeep at the accident or stuck in a coma . . . Who knew?

At Stiles’ words, Derek flicked his head in the direction of the bed, biting his nails and continuing his anxious pace around the room, keeping the anticipating Stiles waiting for an answer. Derek paced up and down the room for what seemed like days.

Stiles scooted for the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t even think about it,” said Derek, stopping suddenly, but then doing his usual runs. “You’re still a bit woozy and you shouldn’t be on your feet for a while. I’ll make you more food.”

But Stiles wasn’t hungry, he was just anxiously awaiting for an answer. 

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re just delusional,” said Derek, which made him chuckle. 

“Well, if I’m delusional.”

Stiles stripped off his plaid shirt and threw it across the room.

This got Derek’s attention quickly and he froze when the shirt had fallen inches away from his feet.

Derek looked at it, and then back at Stiles who laid across the bed, leaning backwards on his arms with a gaze that made Derek growl. But not an angry growl. A frustrated growl. A prowling growl that was watching his prey and inches before finally pouncing. 

“Then what ever happens tonight, I won’t remember. Ever.”

Stiles took off his gray shirt and threw it to Derek. Stiles’ chest was bare and his soft skin gleamed from the dim lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Stiles was fully aware of what he was doing and how much was at stake.

What if Derek refused---was repulsed by the sight of seeing Stiles’ almost nude? What if Stiles’ couldn’t handle the pressure of Derek’s beastly hands, teeth, lips, chest, his---. The thought of seeing Derek with nothing on but a smile made Stiles gulp and again.

Derek grined as if he had heard what he was thinking.

It was a good thing his demon was out of his head --- well, for now at least. Maybe if Stiles had more treatment to his head injury the demon would appear? For the time being, he was happy that Derek couldn’t read his thoughts, but maybe if he did, the process of begging him for sex would move the process faster?

“What are you implying?” Derek said oblivious. 

“I think it’s obvious, don’t you think?

“You’re hot,” Derek asked it as a question that made Stiles chuckle. It had been a while since he heard himself laugh, but when he was with Derek, it just came out naturally. Derek brought out the best side of him. 

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