His mom used to do that for him, when he'd had nightmares or when he was sad or sick. They'd sit there like that for hours, on his bed or on the couch, Stiles breathing in the scent of her and finding comfort in her heartbeat. It's maybe why he allows Derek to complete that familiar gesture, even when it puts an uncomfortable amount of pressure on his sinuses, why a minute amount of tension seeps out of his shoulders as he takes a long, shuddering breath. In that moment, Derek isn't just a friend or a not-quite-mancrush, he's almost a surrogate parent, but...without the weird connotations. It's only when Derek speaks again that Stiles realizes just what he's doing, and those doubts start to come back.

He isn't Pack. He can't be Pack. He's human, and he's vulnerable, and he'll make them weaker, and he's never even once wanted to be a wolf. He might consider Derek his Alpha, but Stiles can't be pack. He doesn't belong with anyone. "I can't take anything anywhere, I'm grounded," he says as he sits up again, both hands running through his messy hair. "And I also kinda look like Halloween came a couple days late, so it's probably a good idea I'm literally not allowed to leave the house. Not even to take the trash out. Will you take the stuff for me?" Because while he doesn't mind Derek being there, might even want Derek around, he's not sure he could stand being around anyone else right now. Even Erica and Boyd would just be reminders of how he took too long to find them. It's okay that Derek's left him alone, and better that he's told everyone the same thing.