My Every Exception

Author's Note: I am not responsible for how this fic diverges from canon, just FYI. I'm sure Monday's episode may totally blow us all away. Just some hurt/comfort Sterek and mild slash.

Pairing: Sterek

Derek didn't mind having Stiles around the loft, because really they had become much closer lately. Things were changing between them. Not that they'd ever completely hated one another, but it had taken Derek a long time to trust Stiles, seeing as the boy's father was the sheriff.

The sheriff who may not even be alive anymore, as far as any of them knew. Derek felt a rush of guilt at the thought, his eyes falling on Stiles. The kid was so strong. He hadn't hardly shed a tear over his dad's disappearance and possible death. He was much more quiet and less cheerful, but that was to be expected. He was dealing with it in his own way.

The problem was, Derek hated it. He hated this new gloomy Stiles with no snarky humor and no wide smile to brighten up the room. No he couldn't blame the boy. Derek understood all too well what losing people was like, and now Stiles had potentially lost both parents.

In honesty, Derek wanted to rip Jennifer's throat out. He felt betrayed by this whole thing. The only thing keeping her safe was that she claimed she had the sheriff somewhere. Apparently she had her own agenda with Deucalion and the alphas.

Derek's eyes were still on Stiles from where he was seated in his armchair. Stiles was on the couch. Derek found it strange that Stiles would want to be here in his loft with him, and not with Scott or Lydia, but somehow that's what always happened. They ended up being there for one another.

If Stiles was aware of his constant gaze he gave no indication. He was still looking down at his sneakers like he found them terribly interesting. It wasn't right. Derek still remembered that hand on his shoulder when he'd needed it. He knew Stiles had heard the story of Paige. The boy didn't judge him.

Derek really should be there for Stiles more like the kid was for him. He was caught totally off guard when those cinnamon colored eyes suddenly locked with his, said teenager looking up at last.

Nothing was said. Their eyes remained connected. Those eyes provoked such feelings in Derek. His heart had never felt so heavy and knotted. Gods, he had it bad. Stiles was his exception, the one guy he couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried.

Derek didn't think of himself as gay. He didn't even really think of himself as bi. It was kind of obvious to everyone that Stiles was. It was something that went largely unsaid. Why was Stiles the one guy that Derek did feel things for? He knew about the concept of mates, and that your mate is the one attraction you can't resist. It totally transcends it any human notions of sexuality and gender.

Maybe that's what Stiles was. Derek couldn't shake the thought, and their eyes still hadn't broken their connection. It was the voice that surprised him. Stiles had hardly said a word in three days.

"You really surprise me sometimes Derek. I think I have you figured out, and then you decide to grow a heart."

"What are you talking about Stiles?" he asked strangely with a frown, trying not to go on the defensive. "I've always had a heart."

"Yeah," Stiles said with a sad smile. "I guess so."

That sad look was back, and there was no mistaking the moisture collecting in those cinnamon depths. Even Stiles couldn't hold back forever. Derek knew why Stiles felt he couldn't let himself cry. They were surprisingly alike in some ways. Stiles thought that if he cried it would be like really accepting his father's death and beginning to move on.

Stiles choked back a sob and Derek was across the room in a second, next to the teen on the couch, pulling him into a supportive embrace.

"I can't Derek," Stiles sobbed out in pure agony. "I can't stop myself anymore. I just can't."

"Its okay," Derek whispered, rubbing his back gently. "You don't have to. I promise its okay Stiles."

Derek had only just become aware of his own tears, his own heart breaking because of Stiles' pain. Oh the connection he really did feel with the boy in his arms!

Is that what Stiles had felt? Is that what had made the boy come to his side after Boyd's death? Stiles had ran across the loft, placing that hand on his shoulder like he was the one who was supposed to be there.

Derek found himself thinking that Stiles was his one exception again. The kid wasn't even crying anymore. Derek could smell it. He just really needed to be held like this. Maybe Derek needed it too, this scent, this person held close to him now. His heart fluttered wildly within his chest.

"Thank you Derek," Stiles whispered, face still buried in the alpha's shirt. "Thank you for always being there in the ways that matter. You're so strong Derek. That's why I admire you. That's why I need you. You make me strong."

Derek's stomach twisted in knots at what the teen was saying. Stiles needed him? Those cinnamon eyes were looking at him again, almost expectant. Would it be so wrong?

Stiles was his exception. The one man he'd ever felt anything for, and what he was feeling now could never be mistaken for anything else. They were only mere feet away. It would be so easy.

Stiles looked almost eager. There was no way Derek could mistake the way the teen's eyes had become cloudy and slightly blown, those lips parted ever so slightly, inviting.

Derek inhaled to fight back the rush of emotions, both hands shifting, gently cupping Stiles' cheeks. Those cinnamon eyes lit up with something, and there was no mistaking what they both wanted. It only took the one word that left the boy's lips in the next moment to send them tumbling over the edge.


His name spoken so gently. Derek didn't want to fight this feeling anymore. He moved forward, claiming those lips he'd often wondered about. They were as soft and tender as he'd ever envisioned, and they were moving with his own, gently brushing. Stiles wanted what he wanted.

Derek felt a rush of courage, inhaling as he increased the urgency of his lips, hands moving down to the teen's hips. Stiles' arms wrapped around his neck as the boy released a gentle groan, parting his lips to allow Derek's tongue inside.

Their tongues danced frantically, and Derek had to stop. Stiles was like a drug that he would never get enough of, and they shouldn't be doing this right now. He gently, hesitantly pulled back from those lips, eyes locking with those cinnamon orbs again.

Derek's heart almost soared when Stiles actually managed the smallest of gentle smiles. His world was perfect, complete again. That smile was like a spark that lit up his entire world.

What he didn't expect was Stiles' fingers gently brushing his cheek as the boy continued looking at him like he was his everything.

"I love you," Stiles whispered. "I'm sorry if that's not what you want Derek. I tried... "

"Stiles," Derek cut across him gently. "Don't... because I love you too. I did want it. More than you can imagine. You're my one exception Stiles. I never loved another man... until I loved you."

Stiles gave him that little smile again, and that was all Derek would ever need.


Okay, I'm ending it there, and as usual, it didn't go how I expected. Sometimes my stories just flow as I write them. I appreciate your feedback if you liked this.