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In His Touch. Essay

Decent Essays
Derek had found, it would surprise you just how many ways Stiles blatantly displayed what he was capable of everyday.

It would surprise you how time and time again his abilities and notions went unnoticed, despite how often he showed just what he could do.

It was in the things he said and how he said them- his sarcasm dripping and wit sharpened from practice and sass, his mind brimming with everything he could tell you at any given moment.
Derek had found that for all Stiles seemed to ramble, for all of the seemingly unimportant things he seemed to spew at the world enmass, he actually never had a moment without something important to say.
It was in the way he walked, how he planned each step no matter how wildly and randomly placed they
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It was times like these that he began to wonder why no one had noticed this beautiful boy, this beautiful man, and snatched him up sooner.
Derek thought of the pathetic dregs of high school society that had tried to ignore Stiles, smother him...
Derek thought of how he was in high school and wondered if he would have done the same.

He liked to think he would have noticed how perfect he was, how smart and funny and beautiful he was.
He reminded himself that high school had tried to smother Paige and he'd noticed her.
He tried to ignore the flames of guilt that licked at his heart when he remembered her.

"Hey." long fingers curled around Derek's jaw, moving him to face Stiles, "Hey, look at me."
His brow was furrowed, edges nearly touching across the crease as he looked in Derek's eyes, as if searching for an answer.
"What are you thinking about?"
He asked the question, but leaned in to kiss him before Derek could hope to answer, "Talk to me, tell me what you want, how it feels."

Eyes wide and chest heaving for the breath he hadn't been able to quite catch sinse Stiles had started touching him, Derek started to shake his head, unsure as to what he could even ant from that.
Ever the mind reader in times like these, Stiles answered this unasked question.
"Come on, I want to hear you, want you to tell me what you feel because I want you to know you feel it."
That didn't even begin to make sense, but as Stiles pressed his fingers in deeper, and
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