Blurry » Sterek

Chapter 10

"Hey, grumpy," Stiles calls from outside Derek's room, "You done avoiding me yet? Because I'm hungry." Derek quickly pushes down the memory of that night and opens his door, glaring at the teen in front of him. "Don't call me grumpy," Derek states. "What do you want me to call you, agitated?" Derek rolls his eyes and pushes past Stiles, heading for the kitchen with Stiles on toe.

"Okay, you have a carton of orange juice and coffee grounds and I'd like to clarify that I live off more than just liquids," Stiles comments, still digging through Derek's bare cabinets. "I buy, then eat."

"Don't you ever snack?" Stiles questions. "Not really," Derek responds. Stiles just sighs and digs his Jeeps keys from his pockets. "Hope you like Chinese food. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Derek is more than relieved when he gets a break from his old friend. His presence is conflicting, because he wants everything to be the same, he does, but he also want Stiles to feel that rejection he had to go through. A part of him can't let go of that night, even if another part has already forgiven him. Either way, Derek needs to blow off steam, and does that by working out.

Roughly twenty minutes later, as Stiles had said, he comes prancing back in with a white bag full of food. His eyes quickly land on a half naked Derek in mid pull-up position, sweat glistening his torso. He definitely stares longer than he should at Derek's flexed body, only taring his gaze away when Derek drops from the bar and lands on the floor.

Without a word, Derek and his sweaty abdomen walks straight up to Stiles and takes the bag. Stiles is still too dumbfounded to say anything, so he stands there like an idiot as the other teenager rummages through the take-out.

After picking a white box of rice and chicken, Derek turns around and heads for the couch to continue their project. And Stiles can't help the words tumbling out past his lips. "You have a tattoo."

"Didn't notice," he replies through a mouth full of food. Stiles watches as the black ink shifts because of Derek's muscles. Great, my ex-best friend who hates me is the person I decide to crush on. This will end just dandy.

"Are you going to help or what?" Derek's annoyed voice breaks Stiles from his trance. His brown eyes meet a pair of impatient blue-green ones.

As soon as he's back on the couch next to Derek, his mind drifts again. He thinks about how much Derek has actually changed—personality and physically—yet still Stiles wants to be close to him. He's definitely put on some muscle, and his face has chiseled out, complemented beautifully by his black scruff.

God, how can I think this about someone I was so close to?

Stiles doesn't know how long he sits their with his own thoughts, but the next thing he knows, he's waking up in the middle of the night in a unfamiliar dark place.