Monster. (Sterek)

Part 7: Whatever It Takes.

*****

"Stiles, why are you staring at me?" Stiles blinked, unaware of how much time had passed and confused by what Derek had said. Derek shifted, arching an eyebrow as he placed the book he had stolen from Stiles' bookshelf, page down next to him. He pushed himself up when Stiles still hadn't replied and asked, "Are you okay?"

In truth, Stiles didn't know. He had been reading up on some vampire myths to distract himself from the thought of his father potentially dismembering his once best friend but then he had gotten a call from the man himself. Noah had told him what had happened with Melissa and then told him that he had to go to work. Stiles wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel in a situation like this but he knew it wasn't "okay". So he nodded slowly and made to turn back to his research when he noticed that Derek's eyebrow was still up.

He wanted an answer to his other question, too, Stiles knew that but he didn't have one. It wasn't like he could say "Oh, I was just thinking about what my dad said earlier and analyzing all of my actions before then and yours, too!" Because that could be like admitting he had feelings for Derek that he didn't have. He was just overthinking, that was all. But he couldn't lie to himself that much; he knew that looking at Derek in the way he was wasn't what you did when you had purely platonic feelings for someone. As he watched Derek, he noticed the little things like the way his lips tilted upward when something amused him in the book he was reading or the way his feet bounced slightly as if dancing to a beat no one could hear. He loved the way his beautiful mossy-tree eyes swept across the page – not too quickly, maybe he was a slow reader or maybe he just enjoyed taking his time.

So maybe Stiles had a small crush on Derek but who wouldn't? With the way Derek seemed so in tune with Stiles to the way he treated his Pack, the man was almost perfect. Of course, Stiles knew that Derek, like all people, was flawed. But most of that had to do with his past, therefore, wasn't really his fault. Anyway, that wasn't the point, the point was that any sane person who knew Derek as Stiles did would have feelings that were more than platonic. Or maybe they wouldn't, maybe it was just him. Maybe it wasn't entirely normal to admire the way someone turned a page in a book so gracefully or the way their eyebrows creased in the middle. Okay, the crush may not be as small as he had thought.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," he said when he realised that he couldn't say any of this and had, in fact, begun to stare again.

"What about?" He could lie, it wasn't like Derek would know since he couldn't hear a heart skip if it didn't beat but he also didn't really want to lie. He had already done too much of that. Had grown to hate it, it only seemed to cause trouble, but bending the truth and being vague wasn't exactly lying.

"Nothing much," he was about to go on when he heard a knock at the door. "What's Lydia doing here?" He asked Derek after he recognised her scent. All he got was a shrug and then Derek went back to his book. Stiles rolled his eyes and headed downstairs. Trying to remember why he liked this guy before realising that that was probably a bad idea.

With a sigh, he ran a hand down his face and continued down the hall. Yanking the door open a little too aggressively, he said, "Lydia, hi." He got a quick greeting and a warm smile in return before Lydia was pushing past him and into his house. "After you." He chuckled despite himself.

"Sorry, I just have a few questions." She bounced on her heels, obviously excited; there was no need to try to read her scent but he did anyway. He regretted it when he realised her joy was tainted by worry and nerves. Before he could say anything, she started for the stairs leaving Stiles to trail after her.

~~~~~

Derek listened carefully as Stiles went downstairs and as soon as the boy was too distracted to listen, Derek let out a long breath. Having Stiles' eyes focused so intently on him made him uneasy, stomach twisting. He'd let Stiles have a minute or two before he realised it wouldn't stop without intervention so he had had to say something. He hadn't expected Stiles to look so perplexed by whatever was going on inside his head; so anxious. Derek couldn't help but wonder why – what was the younger male thinking about that had made him shift and pick at his desk chair's armrest? What had made his lips turn down and his eyes wander before fixating back on Derek as if drawn by an invisible force?