One sentence a day keeps the hunters away |
Sometimes all you need is a huge 55K fic filled with UST, action, drama and sex. Sometimes, instead, all you need to change the outcome of your day is one small sentence. Sometimes all you need is love. Or Derek/Stiles - which is kind of the same thing, if you ask me. |
Day twenty four
12. bakeryIt wasn’t much of a first date, ducking into a corner bakery just to get out of an April shower but, the pleasant smell and the smile on Stiles’ face as he gorged himself on frosting - Derek couldn’t have planned it better.
Day twenty three
26. iceThe sound that haunted Derek’s dreams had always been that of catching fire, cracking and popping is it devoured old wood; after watching Stiles’ sudden drop into black water and running, too late across the frozen lake, it had become the sound of cracking ice and his name, shouted in panic and cut off too soon.
Day twenty two
27. googleSince the old house barely had running water, let alone an internet connection, Derek frequently slipped through the bedroom window to use Stiles’ computer - at first these incursions were met with alarm and defensive wielding of a lacrosse stick (it took two weeks before the boy would even put the damn thing down in the Alpha’s presence), but now it made Derek almost think about smiling when he dropped through the open window and the teenager in the bed simply glanced up, waved an arm in greeting before rolling over and nuzzling back down into his bed.
Day twenty one
24. dealEach hard and desperate kiss that he pressed to Derek’s lips was a reminder of a long ago conversation - Don’t get yourself killed before I can save you, okay? Stay alive… deal? Deal… - but as Stiles tasted the copper-and-salt warmth welling up in his mate’s mouth, his mind railed against the simple truth that some deals are made to be broken.
Day twenty
07. sunsetIt was sunset when they buried him, and it was sunset again before Derek left the graveside.
Day nineteen
19. nonsenseIt was a fact of Stiles’ existence that his brain had no filter and his mouth had no off switch; he was always prattling on about something, like obscure facts or lacrosse history or what the colour white meant in Japan or how nothing ever got deleted or book-binding or silver polish or psycopathy or spoons, and to most people it was just nonsense, with relevancy hidden like gold flakes in a stream; Derek was the first person to actually listen to him, to try to follow his too-fast too-soon train of thought like it mattered, like he understood.
Day eighteen
05. socksThe first time Stiles heard Derek laugh was after the Alpha had caught a glimpse of the novelty slipper-socks that the boy had bought on a whim; it was worth the humiliation though, he thought as he hid his socked feet under a couch cushion, watching the older man throw his head back against the wall, his chest heaving and teeth bared without anger, as the happy sound was punched out into the air.
Day seventeen
22. windIt was unexpected and Stiles would have said impossible, that - during one of their many conflicts with out-of-town hunters, rival packs or the numerous other people who seemed to want them all dead, stuffed and mounted - he found his slow and straggling self being picked up by one of his packmates, and thrown bodily onto the broad and fur-covered back of their Alpha, his hands automatically threading through the sleek hair and holding on for dear life; later, when his brain wasn’t swimming in panicked adrenaline, he would silently liken it to riding the wind.
Day sixteen
28. tinselDerek nearly strangled himself as, still half-asleep with all defences down, he jumped from the top landing off his house and became entangled in the strings of white and silver tinsel that had appeared in his house overnight; fortunately, gravity intervened and he found himself looking up at Stiles’ panicked face ‘oh god, oh god, I’m going to die face’ while the teenager frantically attempted to explain his decision to sneak up there in the night to bring his angry, grumpy and socially isolated Alpha some holiday cheer - a choice Derek had to admit was brave and kind, if somewhat suicidal.
Day fifteen
10. pirateThe boy’s leg was a torn mess of blood, bone and shredded flesh and Derek was barely keeping him conscious - he never thought he’d miss the human’s stupid prattling, let alone find himself trying to encourage it, but he nearly moaned in relief at the slurred and weak response to his paltry attempt at comfort; ‘So…wha-what d’you reckon… bionic leg… or w-wood? Cause I… I think I’d ma-make a great… great p-pirate…’
