Always Keep Fighting

“Can I touch your face?” “If you want.”

Stiles nods and turns fully towards him on the couch, pulling one leg up under him. “I just want to get an idea of what you look like. Besides from what people tell me.”

Stiles’ eyes widen slightly, as his fingertips make contact.

“What?” Derek asks immediately.

“I just didn’t expect stubble,” Stiles mumbles, mostly to himself it seems. Then, his second hand finds the other side of Derek’s face, and he closes his eyes, like he’s trying to create a picture on the inside of his eyelids. His fingers trail gently down Derek’s jaw, thumbs grazing the underside of his bottom lip. Then they find their way across his face, mapping his eyebrows, sliding down the bridge of his nose, trailing his hairline. Palms rubbing his stubble, fingertips investigating the shells of his ears.