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Summary
“Jesus!” Stiles fumbles, tries to catch him, and as soon as his hands are on Derek again, the screaming stops. Derek’s eyes are wide, and he’s panting on the ground.
“Stiles. Stop touching me.”
“Fine. Whatever. Just trying to help.” He pulls away, and Derek doubles over, groaning.
“Come back, come back.” Derek moans, reaching towards Stiles. As soon as their skin touches, Derek relaxes, falling back onto the forest floor.
“What’s going on?” Stiles asks, his hand slipping in the sweat that coats Derek’s skin. Derek twists his arm and grabs Stiles’ wrist.
“If I stop touching you, it feels like... It hurts, like wolfsbane.” He sits up. It twists Stiles’ arm into an awkward position, and Derek lets his grip loosen just enough for Stiles’ arm to slide against his fingers.
“You can’t let go.” Stiles says, wrapping his free hand around Derek’s arm.
“I can’t let go.”
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