Work Text:
“Scott?!” Stiles called out to his best friend when he felt him go limp.
For a brief second Derek glanced up at Scott before returning his focus on finishing the first band of his tattoo. “He just fainted, he’ll live.”
Stiles nodded. He wondered just how much pain a werewolf can withstand before it became unbearable. He recalled a time when he watched Derek writhe on the floor. And the way that Derek asked him to cut off his arm like it was the natural thing to do. What even is that? Stiles wondered. Did Derek have to cut off an arm before?
Stiles studied Derek as he finished the second band of Scott’s tattoo. Rather than looking at the blowtorch’s flame that seared his friend’s skin, he fixated his gaze on the hand that held Scott’s arm. Derek had nice hands, Stiles thought. He knew what those hands were capable of. The strength and dexterity. Derek shifted then, moving Scott so that he could apply the flame to the inside of his arm. Stiles couldn’t take his gaze off the sight of where Derek’s thumb pressed into Scott’s flesh. The slight indentation. Stiles realized then that Derek was being rather gentle with Scott. Sure he burned his friend into unconsciousness, that couldn't be helped, besides, it’s what Scott wanted. But the way that Derek held him, it was as if he didn’t want to hurt Scott anymore than he needed to. Stiles was pulled away from his thoughts when he heard the blowtorch being placed on the crate that Derek was sitting on. “That’s it?”
Derek nodded. “You did good.”
Stiles felt his cheeks grow hot. He didn’t know why he felt embarrassed. Anxious under Derek’s gaze. “All I did was hold him.”
“It was more than that,” Derek insisted.
Their gazes held for a moment before Derek broke the silent spell by moving to get up. He grabbed a larger crate and motioned for Stiles to move aside so that Scott could lean back onto something. Stiles moved back to stand by the table. He thought maybe Derek would leave him there until Scott woke up.
Instead, Derek came back around to stand next to him.
“Did you faint when you got your tattoo?” Stiles mentally kicked himself. After second thought he realized that he shouldn't have asked such a loaded question. "I mean--
Derek chuckled, interrupting Stiles.
Stiles never heard that sound coming from Derek before. It sounded nice, and it made his stomach flip and tighten. Before he could make sense out of that feeling, Derek started talking.
“The pain was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. At the time, I needed to feel it, the burn. So no, I didn’t faint.”
Stiles nodded, not sure what to say. Not sure if the silence needed filling at a time like this.
So they stood together, shoulder to shoulder, both their gazes settling on Scott.
“I was surprised that the tattoo wasn’t Allison’s name,” Derek confessed.
“You actually telling me that surprises me.” Stiles laughed. He bumped his shoulder with Derek’s. Their gazes held. And everything seemed to fade away. Stiles’ laugh gave way to silence once more. He felt like he was the one being burned now, but under Derek’s heated gaze. “You know, I… I missed you.”
For a second Stiles thought that Derek would have turned away, to shut him out. Maybe taking his words the wrong way. He had only meant that his presence was missed. Nothing more than that, Stiles told himself. But Derek didn’t turn away, didn’t even break eye contact. And actually looked like he was going to respond.
But the moment was broken with Scott’s gasp for air. “It worked!”