Work Text:
Derek gives a nervous smile as he goes over the unfolded page in his hands, fiddling with it. It's the newest one he's been working on and he's ready to finally show it off. Erica sets her hand on his arm in comfort, calming his nerves.
"It'll be great. They always are." She tells him, giving a smile, "And you're up after this guy, so be ready."
"I am ready." He says, nodding to ensure himself that he really is. His ones before, the way he wrote them... They didn't tell it so close to reality.
The other were vague, leisurely in the way they told the story. This is more forward, more telling and it honestly unnerves him. But he blocks everyone out and focuses on his breathing, finding the heartbeat he listens to when he needs something to calm him down. It sounds strong and beautiful, like always.
As the man on the small stage steps down, Derek stands up. He takes his place up there and smiles shyly at the small applause and whistles that are directed at him. He smooths out his page again and inhales to start.
His breath catches when he looks up.
Erica looks so smug as Stiles slides into the seat Derek was previously in. He looks up at Derek with those big brown eyes and smiles, waving softly. He clears his throat nervously, shuffling his feet. Everyone's looking at him, waiting for him to fucking say something.
So, scared as hell, he does.
"Pale skin and fragile bones," He begins into the microphone, voice echoing softly throughout the whole place, "soft kisses & loud moans..."
Stiles leans back in his seat, listening with a slightly surprised look. He leans over and whispers to Erica, "I didn't know Derek was seeing someone."
Derek takes a deep breath, "Honey brown eyes and upturned nose, goes where no human goes."
Erica smiles and whispers back, "He's not."
Stiles touches his nose, presses at the slight upwards curve of it. Derek feels warm all over and petrified at the same time.
"Freckles and moles grace his face, all I want is to be in his embrace. Even though we’ve come so far, I'm still scared of all my past scars; and when I’m near you it’s hard to breathe..." He looks at Stiles, watching him lean forward, mouth open, "And when I’m near you it’s hard to see. I wish you would just notice me, because when I'm with you I-I feel free."
He starts to utter the first word of the next verse but stops, lowering his head and stepping back. His face is red and is thankful for the applause, because it means he can be done. He gets down from the stage and strides right past his table, past every other table, and out the door.
"Derek. Derek, hey!" Stiles jumps out of his seat and follows him, knowing very well Derek can hear him.
He folds up the paper with shaky fingers and takes a deep breath when Stiles' long, slim fingers wrap around his arm. It feels like a brand against the chill of the night air and it makes him shiver. Stiles gets in front of him, looking into his eyes frantically.
"Hey..." Stiles says again, softer than before, "That was really good in there. I didn't know you wrote poetry."
"Did Erica call you?" He asks, voice not as hard as he wants it.
Stiles nods, "I didn't know why she'd want me to come to a poetry slam or whatever, but she said you'd be here."
"You came for me?" He looks up at Stiles, and it's his turn for his mouth to hang open.
Stiles blushes and shuffles his feet, looking down, "Well, yeah..." His eyes look to Derek's hands, where he's just about throttling his poem. Stiles smiles softly, gently trying to grab it, "So, this thing."
"Uh, yeah." Derek folds and unfolds it over and over again, until Stiles' hands settle over his and those beautiful honey eyes take a closer look.
"You didn't do this part." Stiles points, looking up at him.
"Y-Yeah. It's um... It's not important." He shrugs and tries to hide it from him.
"No, no. I want to know. You wrote it down, it must be important." Stiles says, taking the paper from his hands, opening it up and smoothing out all the crumpled parts. He thrusts it forward softly, "Read it to me?"
"Stiles..."
"Please?"
Derek takes a deep breath and swallows, taking the page and suppressing the urge to grab his hand when their fingers brush. Stiles' heart is erratic, his cheeks are pink and he's just looking at Derek and waiting for him. Maybe he's always been waiting for him, he's just overlooked it because he didn't think he deserved it.
"Your heartbeat sounds like a lullaby that I can hear for miles if I try... The wolf in me goes a little crazy, when I catch your scent everything gets hazy..." He sees Stiles smile and his own heart thunders against his rib cage, "And when the moon starts to rise, I... I want to go to bed looking into your eyes."
Stiles smiles fondly, this little genuine thing that Derek loves, and touches the paper, fingers sliding down it. He drops his hand only to bring it back up and glide over Derek's wrist, hold delicately.
"That's... Really amazing." Stiles looks up, licking over his lips. Then he suddenly looks nervous, "That's about me, right? Because if I kiss you and it's not, that's gonna be so awkward and I'll probably crawl into a hole and stay there."
Derek huffs out a laugh, "Yes, it's about you."
Stiles grins widely and flails slightly, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck, "That's so awesome."
Derek smiles when Stiles' lips crush into his, his arms wrapping around Stiles' middle and pulling him up the few inches that separate them from being the same height. Stiles laughs against his mouth and presses their chests together tighter. Derek feels both of their heartbeats against his chest.
Stiles pulls out of the kiss first and Derek gently sets him down. He smiles, "You think I'd be a loud moaner?"
Derek blushes so deeply that Stiles squeals.