Perigee

Chapter 6

Much can change in six years. Unfortunately, the one thing that hasn’t changed is the fact that we still know nothing about the tattoos that cover Stiles’ body. There are no known runic translations of them and I fear that we might not learn in time. Stiles says we only have five years left to figure it out. 

One thing that definitely changed was how I view Stiles. There are moments when I wonder if he really is a figment of my imagination… something my psyche created and won’t let go… but I don’t think I’d want it to. I love him. If he’s a figment of my imagination then that might mean that I’m crazy but I don’t care. He makes me happy. Uncle Peter knows that Stiles has been upgraded from imaginary friend to imaginary boyfriend and he does his best to be supportive. He was the only one I told.

For me, this evolution was slow. At first, I saw it as merely a crush. But the feelings persisted and grew stronger. I acted on them for the first time when I was 16. As I woke up one Saturday morning, I saw the sunlight creep through the blinds and fall onto Stiles’ face. He has an odd face he makes when he’s asleep. It looks like he’s in a state of profound bliss. I watched him for a while before pressing my lips to his. At first, I felt awkward and even a bit horrible. When his lips moved back against mine, my eyes fluttered open. He smiled as he saw it. I rushed backward falling off the bed. “Oh my god! Derek! Are you okay?”

I could feel the blood surging to my face. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, trying to salvage what was left of my dignity.

Stiles climbed off the bed and helped me up, pulling me closer to him. He pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue darting between my stunned lips. I dissolved into him. I copied his movements, unsure of what to do. Teeth scraped against teeth and tongue caressed tongue. I wanted more, but he eventually pulled away. “I’m invisible, Derek… not blind,” he panted.

I needed to catch my breath. I let my lips lightly graze his cheek as I hugged him close. “How long have you known?”

I felt him shrug. “A few months. But looking back, I’ve seen it since the night I returned. I just didn’t want to assume something that might not be there. I also wasn’t sure how I felt about it.”

We sat on the bed. “How do you feel about it?” I asked cautiously.

“I watched you grow up. You’re my best friend,” he said.

My face sunk. “I see…”

He put his finger under my chin, forcing my vision up to him. “I’m not finished. I love you, Derek. I’ve always loved you. And how I love you changes. I can’t explain it,” he said before kissing me again. When the kiss broke, he added, “But I do love you.”

It felt like I was walking on air that entire day, and each day after. Sure, ours wasn’t a conventional relationship, but it never had been so why start now?

Things got more complex a few months later when I began feeling a little frisky. As we watched TV together in my bed, I began to rub his chest. He kissed my forehead. Soon it had progressed to me climbing on top of him, my tongue tracing along some of his tattoos. My hand ventured down to his waist and fingers slipped between the strange pants he always wore and his beautiful tattooed skin. As my fingertips grazed him, he tensed, wrapping his hand tightly around my arm and pulling my hand away. “Derek… stop.”

I was confused. I searched his eyes, trying to figure out why he didn’t want me to proceed. “I was just going to—”

“I know what you were going to do,” Stiles interrupted. “We can’t do that.”

“Then we can do something else… you try me,” I said, pulling his hand down toward my aching dick.

He snatched his hand away. “Seriously, Derek… sex is something we can’t do.”