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Stiles doesn’t know what’s going on when the sun goes down and the moon starts to rise. He hears Derek mutter a curse from across the loft, but it doesn’t really register. He’s too busy staring at the rich shade of burnt orange on the moon’s surface. The craters look deeper somehow, darker, and Stiles is transfixed.
Then he hears Derek’s voice again, a little bit louder this time. Stiles looks over his shoulder to see Derek staring down at his cuticle, as if his body has betrayed him somehow. Stiles walks over to him, rounding the table by the window. “Derek? What is it?”
“What?” Derek’s eyes raise, confusion spelled out across his features. “Um, nothing,” he answers with a bit of a squint. Stiles frowns, about to call him out on his lie when Derek takes a step forward, his foot catching on the edge of the couch. He yells out “Motherfucker,” before falling down onto the couch so that he can inspect his bare toes.
“Okay, seriously. What is wrong with—” Stiles pauses, remembering something he read in the bestiary a long time ago. He spins to look back up at the moon and then back to Derek, watching the red-orange glow flit over Derek’s face from where he’s still bent over his foot. “Dude, what are you—?”
“It’s nothing,” Derek bites out, “don’t worry about it.”
“Yeah,” Stiles narrows his eyes at his boyfriend, deciding to humor him as the alarm goes off, signaling the arrival of the pizza Stiles conned Derek into ordering when he got home twenty minutes prior. “Okay,” Stiles nods, trying to hide his smirk by moving passed Derek to answer the door. He takes the pizza and tips the deliverer before he closes the door and takes the box to the kitchen. “Bon appetit!”
Derek’s actions belie his earlier claims of not being hungry, he’s already waiting by the table and grabs a slice immediately. He takes a giant bite of it and howls “Damnit!” before throwing the food back at the open cardboard. “How is it still that hot? Isn’t Cheesy Haven like a ten minute drive?”
“Uh, they have a car heater thing that keeps all of the pizza warm. It’s always this temperature,” the teenager tells him as he covers his laugh by making a show of taking a bite of his own slice.
“How?” Derek asks in awe. “You’re not even going to blow on it?”
“It’s not even that hot, Derek,” Stiles rolls his eyes and takes another bite before swallowing. “I can blow on something else later though, if you’d like,” he says with a wink and grins.
“Fuck off,” Derek grumbles as he turns towards to the fridge. Stiles watches as a shudder goes down the other man’s spine as the cool air hits him, before he reaches in to retrieve a can of grape soda. He pops the tab and lifts the can to his lips. Stiles is almost too enamored by the way Derek’s throat is working to notice the sputter that escapes him as he chokes a little on his drink.
Stiles’ eyes start to squint again as he observes the way Derek is now glaring down at the can. “Okay, c’mon. Seriously what is going on, I know for a fact that you could’ve swallowed down all of that and more...”
“It was cold.”
“Well, it was in the fridge, so.”
Derek sets the can down on the counter with a sigh and turns slowly to face Stiles. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Dude, of course I’ll laugh. Just tell me.”
“There is a thing...with the moon...on tonight specifically...”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “What do you mean? It’s just a lunar eclipse, right? They happen all the time.”
“Yeah, but—” Derek groans, “They’re different for us. Werewolves, I mean. It’s just that I’ve always been alone during them before...”
“You’re starting to freak me out, dude. It cannot be that serious.”
“Stiles,” Derek sighs again.
“Um...should I go? Do you need to be like alone to swear at inanimate objects all by your lonesome?” Stiles asks, attempting to not smile at his wittiness.
“Stiles, I’m serious. This isn’t a joke.”
Stiles’ face drops at the gravity in Derek’s tone. “Oh my god, just tell me already!”
“My wolf is gone.” His voice is just above a whisper as he finally admits what is going on.
“What do you mean your wolf is gone? Like, gone-gone or just like ‘sorry, I’m on my lunch, be right back’ gone?”
“I’ll get my powers back when the eclipse is over. I always forget what it’s like until it happens again.”
“Wait,” Stiles looks at him, a smile starting to grow on his face. “Did you stub your toe? Is that what that was before?” He flails in the direction of the couch.
“Maybe,” Derek begrudgingly answers him.
The smile on Stiles’ face grows mischievous as he starts lifting one of his hands.
“What are you doing?” Derek glares at the hand as it comes closer to him. “Stiles,” he warns just as it comes to rest on his waist.
“Not a thing, Derek, how could I do anything to someone so defenseless?”
“Why do I not believe you?”
Stiles just shrugs and leans in closer, cuddling up to Derek’s chest. He strikes as soon as he feels his boyfriend relax against him, raising his fingers to graze over Derek’s ass before he presses the tip of his finger and thumb together and twists a bit of skin through the denim.
“Jesus, fuck! What the hell?” Derek shouts as he jumps away from the now doubled-over Stiles, rubbing the sore spot on his bottom in a way that just makes Stiles laugh harder.
“Oh god,” Stiles wheezes. “I never knew how bad I always wanted to do that.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, Stiles,” Derek grumps at him.
“Whatever, dude, you should’ve seen your face,” Stiles tells him, wiping a tear from his eye.
Derek raises his eyebrows. “Are you done? Do you need to be alone to cackle at your hilarity?”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that! I was just having some fun.”
“Yeah, at my expense,” Derek tells him with an exaggerated frown.
“Awe, turn that frown upside down, Sourwolf...wait should I still call you Sourwolf? Is it Sourhuman? Are you even a human? I mean what are you right now, just a were? Like, a were—what exactly? A were-is-the-moon-I-love-so-much-and-why-does-it-look-like-it’s-bleeding? Get it?”
“Once again your lung capacity amazes me. How do you do that without stopping to breathe?” he asks, leaning in close to Stiles, mouth dropping down to move against the younger man’s.
Stiles pulls away with a leer, “Derek, you know just how long I can go without stopping to breathe, so...”
“Care to demonstrate?”
Stiles hums. “Maybe if you’re a good little non-wolf.”
Derek leans in once again and bites at Stiles’ lower lip. “What if I don’t want to be good tonight?”
"Hate to break it to you, but you’re not normally very good.”
“Hey!” Derek says, poking his boyfriend in the chest. “You take that back!”
Stiles just grins at him. “What are you going to go about it? Hmm? You ain’t got no powers tonight, baby.”
Derek steps infinitesimally closer. “Doesn’t mean I can’t take you.”
“Derek,” Stiles says, shifting so his arms circle Derek’s neck. “If you really wanted to take me, all you had to do was say so.”