Lynn_4ff
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Summary
Stiles never thought fairies would be his down fall. Now Stiles is kind of forced to “haunt” his friends and Derek is the only one who refuses to let them give up on him. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so sad.
It doesn’t help that people keep mysteriously drowning either. Turns out Stiles can actually feel more useless.
“Okay, Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, I get it! Weird pack dynamics actually work without me. Can I go home?”
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Coming home for the Holidays after a long time never felt so scary.
This time, everything has changed. Will they find love before the year ends?
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Derek’s eyes narrow and Stiles knows he’s fucked up royally, because between one heartbeat and the next, Derek’s pinning him down with one hairy, strong arm.
He practically crawls his way up Stiles’ body, as Stiles scrambles back on the couch to get further away from him, still raising the bowl of candy above his head.
Derek, with a huff of victory finally gets level with Stiles’ face. He reaches up for the bowl again but where Derek’s strong, Stiles is gangly, and it’s still just out of Derek’s reach.
Stiles shoves Derek’s elbow out from under him and he collapses down on top of Stiles with a surprised oomph.
“Can’t get me Derek, I’m the whacky, inflatable arm waving-man,” Stiles laughs delightedly, right in Derek’s face.
Derek’s really close face. His incredibly handsome, stubbly face, a face that is inches away from his own face.
Fuck balls.
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“It's a mate thing,” Allison shrugs, leaning back on her hands.
From where he's laying on his back in the middle of them all, thawing in the sunshine, Stiles huffs a quiet laugh.
“You're not, though.”
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Stiles goes looking for Boyd and Erica and finds something else entirely.
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Derek scowls and steps closer, "What are you doing out here?" he counters and Stiles rolls his eyes, exasperation burning through him.
"Looking for Erica and Boyd," he retorts, "Chris let them go and said they headed this direction, so I'm trying to find some sign of them," he explains tightly, guilt running through him once more that he'd done so little to try and free them. He'd told Derek about their capture at the warehouse, after everything had died down, but it didn't feel like enough.
Derek's scowl twists into confusion and he shifts uneasily, "Why are you looking for them? You aren't pack, you barely liked them," he says and Stiles sort of wants to punch him for that, but he also knows it's a little true—he's been resistant to joining Derek's pack, and hasn't exactly gotten along with the betas, but still, that doesn't mean he wants them gone.
"Because I was in that basement too, remember?" he demands, turning his cheek a little so his bruises are more apparent, watching as Derek's gaze lingers there for a long moment, his jaw working harshly before he looks away and nods.