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The Runaround

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Derek sat on the porch enjoying the fireworks when Stiles came out of the house and sat down next to him. “Here,” Stiles handed over a chocolate covered banana on a stick.

“Thanks,” Derek thanked him absentmindedly, attention diverted elsewhere. Jackson and Scott were aiming their rocket launchers at each other in a particularly spiteful way. Allison twirled in circles, hands full of sparklers. Danny was cackling with glee as he lit another, rather large, rocket. The only one who was doing anything safe looking was Lydia, who had a handful of unlit cherry bombs.

“This is nice,” Stiles said around a mouth full after it became apparent Lydia had control of the situation, ordering the two beta to aim elsewhere and not set anyone of fire. “I’m glad you let us do this here.”

Derek snorted. “It was here or somewhere you all would get arrested for. At least this is private property and you couldn’t do any worse damage than already done.” He indicated the house, still partially in its decrepit state. At least he didn’t live here any longer, the ghost haunting the hallways put to rest.

“Still, considering its Allison’s party and your history with her family…”

Derek felt uncomfortable with what Stiles was implying. Like he was being nice or something, on purpose. “Look, Scott’s pack, and if he’s depressingly attached to the girl like everyone says then I have a feeling I’m going to have to get use to her.”

“That,” Stiles patted the older teen on the back. “Is surprisingly mature of you.”

“Stop touching me.” Derek growled and Stiles moved his hand away quickly.

“Moody, but mature.” Stiles took an obscene bite out of his banana.

Derek blinked at him.

Pulling his mouth off with a ‘pop’, Stiles licked his lips. “Heh, moody. Like Professor Moody, from Harry Potter. Get it?”

Derek shook himself out of his stupor. Had he just…

“You know Allison asked for a Ravenclaw scarf for her birthday?”

“No.” Derek hated to admit it but he was actually familiar about the Harry Potter franchise. At least it wasn’t Twilight. Laura had made him watch that first movie and he about clawed his face off so he’d have an excuse to leave the room and successfully brain himself to get rid of the memory of it. There were some tortures that even werewolves weren’t immune to and sparkling vampires seemed to be that thin red line. At least Harry Potter had action, duels, and characters with more than half a brain to know stalking was not good. He had always been partial to Hermione, she was a good friend to Harry Potter and he personally thought Ron didn’t deserve her. 

“I didn’t even know she was a fan until she said something. This Halloween we made a pact to dress up as Ravenclaw students and go trick-r-treating. Scott got all upset because he’s a Gryffindor and doesn’t think it’s fair that me and Allison are in the same house.”

“Stiles, you aren’t really a wizard.” Derek deadpanned.

“Hey I could be. You never know, I mean, there’s werewolves out there so why can’t there be wizards?”

“As much as I believe mentally you haven’t matured past the age of 11, physically you have. So unless your Hogwarts acceptance letter was misplaced, I think we can safely say you are not a wizard.” Derek reminded him, leaning forward with his hands between his knees, still holding the banana on a stick. He wondered why he even had it, he didn’t even like bananas that much.

Stiles pouted at him, lips shiny with spit from when he was licking his own banana. Derek’s brain seemed to stuttered at the sight. 

“Boo, dream wreaker. I have the wand and everything so don’t go dashing my hopes.” Stiles ate the last of his treat, licking the stick for extra chocolate. Derek only looked away when there was a loud crack, looking up at the sky as it bloomed pink and green.

“Wow, that’s awesome.” Stiles said breathless, Derek nodded in agreement. Although Stiles could see it the way the werewolf could, the colors were especially luminescent in the dark sky above the tree line. The noise was bit overwhelming, but the sight was more than worth a few moments of ringing eardrums.

“You going to eat that?” Stiles asked after the last twinkling bits of the firework faded away, pointing at the banana still in Derek’s hand.

“Hmm? Oh, no, you can have it.” Derek looked away from where Jackson and Danny were unloaded more rockets from the back of Danny truck.

“Really?” Stiles seemed surprised, gathering the trash from the birthday cake and all the empty plates. Derek had half a mind to growl at the others for leaving them to clean up after them. Derek sometimes felt like he was taking care of a pack of unruly puppies, and somehow Stiles had become their maid. The younger teen took care of and cleaned up after Scott and his friends more than most kids his age. He wondered if it was just something Stiles was use to, taking care of his dad and all.

Derek offered the banana to him but Stiles looked pointedly at his full hands. Leaning back, Derek held it between his legs again so he didn’t knock it against anything in the smaller teen’s arms. He’d hold it until Stiles threw the trash away.

Then Stiles got a mischievous glint in his eyes, and before Derek could say anything the teen leaned over and magically swallowed the banana whole. With his mouth. Meaning not using his hands at all. To the banana between Derek’s legs. Just leaning over like he was…

He was pretty sure his vision whited out.

“Hah! I got a picture of that Stiles!” Lydia squealed, waving the camera in the air. Derek was sure he looked dumbstruck, because his brain didn’t reboot until long after Stiles had plucked the empty stick from his rigid hand and gone inside.

Scott scowled at him from halfway across the yard.

Derek tried not to let his jaw drop but was sure he failed in that endeavor. He was having some kind of late reaction, and had Stiles just put his mouth near his crotch? Had Stiles just deep throated a banana between his legs?

The hell…?

Stiles came out of the house smirking, chewing on the banana in his mouth. His face was lightly flushed and for all the embarrassment of being caught doing what he did, he looked rather pleased with himself. Derek could only stare up at him in shock. Stiles barely glanced at him.

“Allison ready to open presents?” Stiles asked, clapping his hands together in excitement as everyone gawked at them.

Everyone unfroze except Derek, rushing towards the porch where the presents waited.

“I think someone already got their present,” Lydia’s mouth curled up as she eyed the alpha.

Stiles finally looked at Derek and raised an eyebrow. “Well it’s not his birthday, so he only got a piece of it…for now.”

“A piece of what?” Danny asked. He had been too far away to see anything in the dark. “What did I miss?”

Lydia eyed Stiles in a whole new light, like she couldn’t believe she had never seen what a wonderful human being he was. “Nothing darling, just mommy getting one over on daddy.”

Jackson looked confused, he hadn’t seen much either. “Who’s daddy? Better yet, who’s mommy?”

Danny shrugged, elbowing his way to the bench with the presents. “Whatever, here Allison, open this one first.”

Scott stopped glaring at Derek to yell at Danny. “No fair, I’m her boyfriend. She has to open mine first.”

“No way McCall,” Jackson ganged up on Scott, creating a wall between him and the presents. “She has to open them in a certain order, remember?” Allison just smiled happily at them and took the present from Danny hands. She delicately opened the purple wrapping paper, setting the sparkly bow on the table beside her.

There was an outbreak of cheering as Allison screamed in excitement, hugging a box to her chest.

“You okay?” Stiles nudged Derek’s leg with his foot.

Derek looked at the foot in question. Was the foot going to molest him also? He had never thought of the perverted things someone could do to you with their foot before, but now he was.

He narrowed his eyes at it.  

“Oh my gawd, Derek thank you!” Allison cried out, pushing through the small crowd around her to hug him. Derek was too busy staring at Stiles errant body part to push her off him. He glanced up at Stiles and saw the teen smiling gently down at him.

He patted Allison on the back with one hand reluctantly.

Stiles bit him bottom lip, his smile more affectionate. 

Lydia looked between them, calculations running through her mind.

Allison pulled herself away, wiping tears from her eyes. The smell of salt so close to him seemed to drag Derek out of whatever confounded shock he’d been in. Shaking himself, he stood up, helping Allison into Scott’s arms.

“It--” Derek had to clear his throat for a second, something had lodged there. “It wasn’t just me. That’s a gift from Stiles and I.”

Wow, now did that sound suggestive. Derek felt his face heat up as the others looked at him with wide eyes. Stiles beaming at the others with no concern what so ever, just happy to make Allison happy. Derek wanted to run a hand through his hair but thought that would make him seem nervous.

“I picked it out, he paid for it.” Stiles pointed at Derek before Allison threw her arms around him also. Stiles made a grunt as the wind was knocked out of him and Derek put a hand on his back to steady him.

“Oh my gosh that had to be so expensive,” Allison looked at them both with watery eyes. Derek moved his hand away as if burned, noticing Lydia’s pointed look.

 Derek just shrugged, looking out at the woods.

“Well he didn’t pay for all of it.” Stiles admitted.

“You paid shipping and handling,” Derek reminded him. Not by choice though, Stiles had been adamant about paying half, but while he was distracted Derek had ordered and paid for it before the younger teen noticed. Stiles had thrown a hissy fit and Derek had only relented on the S&H because he couldn’t take Stiles pouting at him anymore.

Stiles whirled on him, ready for a fight. “You--”

“Okay guys, save the domestic for later.” Lydia butted in, leading Allison back to her chair and setting a present in her lap.

Jackson looked at Derek suspiciously. Derek felt rather affronted that everyone was giving him these looks.  He wasn’t the one eating bananas out of another dudes lap.

Derek shifted on his feet, getting a reign of his emotions. He didn’t need to wolf out over something that Stiles did to him.

But seriously, what the hell had that been all about?

***

Derek paused suddenly as he stepped out on the porch. He had originally wanted to talk to Stiles alone as the younger teen headed to his jeep, but Lydia beat him to it. Weaving her arms through Stiles, the red-head leaned close.

“Drive me home?”

“Uh,” Stiles glanced back at the house unsure. He was only leaving so early because his dad wanted him home. The others were still inside, helping Allison set up her IPad. “Sure…I guess.”

“I’m tired, and I told Jackson I was headed out with you.” Lydia reassured him.

“Okay?” Stiles still looked confused. Derek didn’t blame him, until today, Lydia didn’t seem to care much about Stiles as a friend in any sense. Only tolerating him because he was part of the pack, this change in attitude was discerning.

“Beside, I’m sure we have loads to talk about.” Lydia hopped into the passenger side of the blue jeep, pulling down the mirror and fixing her makeup. Stiles stopped half way around the car before glancing back once more at the house.

This time he spotted Derek standing there watching them in the shadows. Grinning, Stiles waved.

Derek waved back, leaning against a post. Stiles was grinning manically as he got in and started the jeep, griping at Lydia to buckle-up.   

Well, there could always be later. Not like Derek was going to forget the incident anytime soon.

Derek stood outside for a while, long after the tail lights disappeared into the distance.

***

Chapter Text

Derek yawned, scratching himself as he padded downstairs. He wasn’t really a morning person, but lying next to two betas that kicked at night wasn’t conductive to a good night’s sleep either.

“Oh Derek, we weren’t expecting you so early.” Lydia said, taking a swig of water from her bottle as she stood in the kitchen watching someone else cook.  

Derek stared at the back of Stiles’ head, who hovered over the oven humming. Why was there two shirtless teens in his kitchen? Okay, Lydia wasn’t shirtless but she might as well been, both of them had in some kind of skin-tight workout outfit, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Lydia in a sports bra and shorts and Stiles just in some tight shorts, it was like he hadn’t even woken up from his dream.

“Hungry?” Stiles looked over his shoulder at him and smirked. Derek frowned on principal alone.

Grunting, Derek took a seat at his kitchen table, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the air like a sirens song. Already a plate of biscuits and hash-brown were set on the table, tempting Derek to steal a bite. It wouldn’t be long before the others were up.

So he had to ask, “What are you two doing up so early?”

Lydia filled up a glass of orange juice and set it before him. Derek gave her a tired nod before drinking it all in one gulp.

Stiles was checking on the bacon in the oven so Lydia answered. “We went jogging. We want to keep our stamina up. Figured just because we weren’t werewolves wasn’t an excuse not to stay in shape.”

“Hmm,” Derek pulled his eyes away from Stiles when the teen stopped bending over. “That’s nice.”

“Actually,” Stiles turned around to look at him, leaning against the counter. “We were just about to do our stretches--”

“Yoga.” Lydia cut in.

“Yoga, my bad. You don’t mind if we use your living room do you?” Stiles finished.

“Aren’t we about to eat?” Derek was confused. Why were the two humans making breakfast if they were just going to work out more? He blinked lazily up at them which melted Lydia’s stern face into something softer.

He might still be a bit tired, Derek admitted to himself, but he had good reason. That happened when you had to share a room with two other hormonal teenage werewolves while their human companions whispered secrets to each other in the spare bedroom like it was a slumber party. The whole lie-in together had been for Jackson sake. The blond had gotten upset with a rival lacrosse captain who had taunted him all week, nearly losing control and making the others hunt him down every night so the teen didn’t kill anyone. It had also been the reason he hadn’t talk to Stiles yet about The Banana Incident.

“We already ate. This is for the rest of you.” Stiles smile was friendly, pointing his spatula at Derek. He was like the kitchen fairy.

Derek smirked. In more ways than one, he thought haughtily.

 Lydia nudged Stiles and the two quickly finished making breakfasts together, setting up plates and getting glasses for everyone. The bacon came out of the oven perfect with not a single burnt edge. Derek’s mouth watered at the aroma permeating the air. That wasn’t even a wolf thing, that was a Derek thing. He loved bacon.

The table was set and Derek was filling his plate when there were a set of thunderous footsteps coming down the stairs. Jackson and Scott were shoving each other aside to get to the table first.

Derek growled and the two froze, instantly going submissive.

Eyeing them both over we was surprised but pleased to see that they had at least cleaned up some. They were still in pajamas but at least their faces looked washed and a comb run through their hair.

“Thank Stiles and Lydia for breakfast first or you don’t get any.” He ordered.

“Oh! Stiles cooked? Great!” Scott exclaimed, leaning over the table to look at the spread. Derek frowned but Scott didn’t catch it, already turning to thank his friend. “This is wonderful, thanks Stiles.”

Lydia cleared her throat pointedly.

“You too I guess.” Scott glanced in confusion at the red-head. He hadn’t even known Lydia knew how to cook. She really didn’t seem the type.

“Yeah, thanks. Both of you.” Jackson grunted, pulling out a chair next to Derek and reaching for the bacon. Seeing that he was behind, Scott quickly sat down and started filling his plate.

Lydia sniffed, twirling around and heading to the living room. After a moment of hesitation, Stiles followed.

The three wolves were busy eating when Danny and eventually Allison came down, taking a seat and piling their plates high with whatever was left over. It was probably a good thing Stiles and Lydia had eaten before because there wasn’t going to be any leftovers.

Danny was just moving his fork to his mouth when he froze, looking in the direction of the living room. The egg balancing on his fork plopped back onto his plate unnoticed.

Jackson tried to catch his eye. “What’s wrong?” He asked around a mouthful, turning around in his seat to see what had caught his friend’s eye. He nearly fell out of his chair when his food went down the wrong pipe.

With that, everyone turned to look.

Lydia was talking to Stiles, both completely unaware that everyone was staring at them.

“-Bridge pose. It helps relieve stress put on the neck and shoulders after that last pose.” Lydia was on her knees between Stiles legs, pulling his hips up until they were even with her own. “Try to put your hands on your hips now. Good. See how long you can hold it.”

“Hey this isn’t so bad. This one’s easy at least.” Stiles grinned, his hair slick with sweat as his upper back and shoulder rested on the mat, his arms supporting his waist. Lydia wiggled back, giving Stiles room to adjust himself into a more comfortable position. The curve of his spine and the tightening of his calf muscles were particularly graceful.

“Yeah, I like this pose.” Lydia smiled back, genuine affection on her face. She looked happy to be sharing this with Stiles, laying down on her own mat beside him and getting into position.

“It looked like you were fucking him.” Jackson broke the happy atmosphere like a monkey flinging shit at a funeral for Mother Teresa. Lydia stopped smile automatically and Stiles lowered his hips back down. “Are you teaching him sex poses?” The blond asked critically.

“Its yoga you ignoramus.” Danny defended them, reaching across the table to stab Jackson with his fork.

“Looked like they were dry humping each other to me.” Jackson mumbled, rubbing his sore arm. Stiles was flushed in embarrassment, looking slightly humiliated. Lydia glanced at Stiles then glared angrily at the group around the table. Allison had been the only one not gapping at them like an idiot, but just barely.

“Do you mind?” She seethed, standing up so she could help Stiles into the next position: sitting Indian style with their feet together, completely innocent of any humping what so ever.

Derek seemed to come back from whatever fantasy land his mind had wondered too, smelling the distress and anger from the two teens in his living room directed at his unruly beta. “Leave them alone Jackson. You got clean up duty after you’re done.”

“What?” Jackson squawked, finally turning back around, his elbow japing Scott in his side. The brunette yelped, almost spilling his drink.

Derek glared.

Jackson grumbled towards his plate, finishing the last of his biscuits and gravy. Everyone went back to eating, ignoring the glaringly obvious pink elephant in the house. Only Derek and Danny really had a clear view of the other room and its occupants.

Lydia and Stiles went through an easy routine, Lydia helping Stiles when he couldn’t find a way into the positions naturally. The teen was actually very flexible, lean enough that his muscles didn’t get in the way of bending into complicated arrangements and strong enough to hold them.

Danny signed pensively, smiling as he set his chin in his palms to watch.

Derek tapped the teens arm with the blunt end of his knife, shaking his head. Danny pouted at him but went back to eating obediently. Derek wished his wolf pack was as compliant as his human pack. It would make things so much easier. 

He tried to ignore the situation happening in the other room, but he kept catching things out of the corner of his eyes. A sharp movement or even a loud groan that made him pause in the middle of eating. He heard a popping noise and a moan so he looked over to see Stiles bent over, legs spread and arms reaching out in front of him. Even he knew that was downward dog from all the dirty jokes he heard at the gym. Stiles was laughing breathlessly, telling Lydia about how his back had popped.

“That felt good, I think I’ll try this pose more often.” Stiles looked over at Lydia, both their faces red from exertion. 

Danny nudges him, smirking and shaking his head. Derek had half a mind to growl at him but didn’t want to bring to attention that he had broken his own rule. Jackson was still moping, cleaning up his dishes and taking them into the kitchen. Lydia and Stiles were finishing up anyways.

Stiles wiped his sweat off with a towel, holding it around his neck as he watched everyone pick up after themselves and leave their dishes with Jackson, Lydia was heading up to the shower. The blond grumbled, rinsing and loading the dishwasher with much complaint.

“You know you’re going to be waiting forever if you go after her.” Danny reminded Stiles. “There probably won’t be any hot water either.”

Stiles’ smile was relaxed. For once the teen didn’t look like he was going to vibrate in place with anxious energy. The yoga seemed to calm and center him. “That’s okay. I’m too hot anyways so I’ll probably have a cold one.”

“Suit yourself.” Danny shrugged, heading upstairs to get dressed.

Scott and Stiles seemed to hold an entire conversation with their eyebrows until Scott stomped off upstairs also, Allison following close behind. She wasn’t much of a morning person either, almost brain dead to the things happening around her until noon. Leaving Derek alone with Stiles, well, except for Jackson but that was like having a yappy Pomeranian in the same room. Annoying but easily ignored.

“I can hose you down in the front yard if you want.” Derek offered, trying to break the sudden tension filling the room.  

Stiles leaned against the table, his hip close to Derek hand. “You think your neighbors would mind?” He licked his lips as Derek watch a drop of sweat slide down the teens neck and pool at the dip of his collarbone. The heat had suddenly seemed to spike in the house.

If his neighbors did Derek wouldn’t give a damn. They could evict him and he would regret a single moment of it.

Jackson snorted, mumbling about ‘hosing the both of them’ and scrubbing violently at the pan used for the bacon.

Then again, as exciting as seeing Stiles in tight shorts all wet and slick would be, it would be out in the open. Where all his neighbors could see. His weird neighbors. He was 84% sure the one across the hall was a stalker, she appeared to magically be getting her mail the same time he did every morning. Bit suspicious that.

Speaking of which.

“Can you grab the mail for me?” Derek asked trying to look innocent but not too innocent. He didn’t want to oversell it.

Stiles blinked at him, confused at the change in atmosphere. “Why can’t you get it?”

Derek tapped his nails on the table. “You’re already standing.”

Sighing, Stiles stood up strait. Seeing as he wasn’t going to get any farther with Derek with company in the room it wouldn’t hurt to do what the alpha asked without putting up a fuss. “Fine. Who knew werewolves would be so lazy.” He flung his towel at Derek’s head.

The older teen caught it before it smacked him in the face. He would take the disrespect, but only because Stiles didn’t know what he had planned. Derek watched at Stiles opened the door, grabbing the key on the key-ring by the door.

“Hey Mr. Hale, Oh--!” A feminine voice said from outside, just like always and right on time.

Stiles paused, foot half way out the door. He floundered for a minute, not knowing what to say to Derek’s neighbor.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were… uh who are you?” The woman asked. Derek knew that was his queue. Walking up behind Stiles he pretended like he hadn’t heard anything.

“Stiles don’t forget…Oh hi Ms. Reinart.” Derek stood right behind Stiles, leaning in close to the half naked teen. He couldn’t help sniffing lightly, the sour smell of sweat and bacon grease making his mouth water. He pulled back before he did anything embarrassing.

Ms. Reinart flushed, looking between Stiles and Derek with wide eyes. It probably didn’t help that Derek was in his boxers and a tank top (what he had slept in), his hair a mess. “Please…how many t-times did I say to call me…Mindy.”

Derek smiled kindly, setting a hand on Stiles shoulder. “Then please call me Derek. This is Stiles…a friend.”

Stiles looked at him wordlessly, gapping at Derek in surprise.

Feeling like the operation was almost complete, he smirked mischievously at Stiles who furrowed his brows in confusion. He knew something was happening here but he just couldn’t figure it out. “Just wanted to remind you of the mailbox number: B12.” Derek said to Stiles.

“O-kay?” Stiles said slowly.

“Well get to it,” He smacked Stiles on the rear, making the teen jump and scramble away. Stiles walked towards the offices, holding his rump and casting offended looks back at Derek. Derek smiled, crossing his arms and leaning against the door-jam to watch him.

“He needs a firm hand.” He informed Mindy, who looked gob smacked at Derek. “Don’t let his youthful appearance fool you Misty…”

“It’s Mindy.”

“He’ll toe the line every time just to get my attention. He has a…thing about authority. Likes to see how far he pushes me before I snap. But don’t worry I’m gentle with him, kid like that just want to be taken care of. I work him down slowly, until he’s totally compliant. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

“Not really.”

“So if you hear any strange noises or howling coming from over here you don’t have to worry. Everything’s consensual and it’s what he asked for. ”

Mindy was so flushed by now she looked like she was about to combust. She believed she was hearing personal details of her neighbors sex life and couldn’t decided if she was uncomfortable or okay with that. They both stood there awkwardly in silence for a few minutes until Stiles returned.

“See you later,” Derek ushered Stiles inside, taking his mail right out of the teens hands. “Remember what I said about the noise.” He winked at her, closing the door behind them. One problem successfully dealt with. He felt rather pleased with himself.

Jackson stood at the edge of the kitchen with his arms crossed. “Really.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek, who smugly took a seat on the couch. “What happened?” He asked, glancing between Derek and Jackson, still holding his hands behind his back as if to ward off any stray attacks.

Jackson quirked an eyebrow at Derek. “He just insinuated something to his poor neighbor to either get her off his back or cover up strange noises coming from his apartment.”

Derek shrugged, unconcerned. “This way if I wolf out, or one of yall stays over during the full moon, she won’t call the cops if she hears something suspicious.”

“No she’ll only think you’re spanking Stiles for being a ‘bad boy’.” Jackson answered.

“What!?” Stiles squeaked. He had been about to sit down next to Derek to wait but now thought better of it. Derek saw him pause and leered at him. “Is that why you spanked me?”

“Derek spanked Stiles!” Scott was standing at the edge of the stairs, looking like the world was crumbling down around him.

“Derek’s spanking people? Can I go next?” Danny hollered from upstairs, clearly excited at the prospect. Derek wondered how these people became his pack, much less survived a single full moon. Their immaturity level was unheard of.  

Stiles bit his bottom lip, looking at Derek strangely again. Derek stopped smirking and stared blankly back.

“I’m out!” Lydia hollered, breaking the tension. Stiles turned away, running up the stairs and slamming the door behind him. “The hell?” Lydia asked.

 Derek just smirked. He felt like they were back on even ground now.

***

Chapter Text

***

Scott paused for a split second, giving Jackson the chance he needed to land the punch, sending the werewolf flying back into a tree.

“Scott.” Derek growled. “Why do you keep hesitating?”

Dusting himself off, Scott glanced back towards the house, moonlight shining off bright dome of Jackson car. “It’s just…my phone.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “I thought I told you to turn it off while we trained.”

Scott looked abash. “Well yeah, but what if something happened. How would the others get a hold of us?”

Jackson skipped over to Derek, standing next to him so he could enjoy watching the alpha put the other beta in his place. He liked to watch Scotts face when he got that little puppy dog look every time Derek seemed disappointed in him. It made something inside him swell to see McCall knocked back down.

“Is it physically impossible for you to go 1 hour not talking to Allison?”

Looking down at his feet, Scott pouted. “No, but it’s been vibrating nonstop for the last half hour.”

Seeing that the two betas had lost their concentration, Derek figured he’d give them a break. Maybe if Scott just answered the damn phone they could get back to training.

While Scott listened to his voicemail, Derek figured he’d check his own phone. Not that he was expecting any messages or anything but if there had been a situation he’d hope the others would have tried calling him first.

Surprised, Derek actually had 2 missed messages. Both were from Lydia.

“I have 30 missed texts and 23 are from Stiles.” Scott sounded alarmed.

Jackson picked up his phone. “Wow. I have 7, 4 from Lydia and 1 from Allison.”

Derek opened the first messages, it was a picture: an anonymous pale hip bone with blood on it. The second was a cryptic message of, ‘Might need you’.

“The hell? Is this code?” Jackson was moving his phone in different directions. He must have gotten something similar. Derek worried, their humans (minus Danny who was with his grandparents this weekend) had decided to camp out at Lydia’s mom’s house for a movie night. They like to call it their ‘human bonding’ time where they connect over shared experiences and watched horrible movies huddled together on the couch. Derek was sure it was just a bitch-fest to complain about the rest of the pack without one of the werewolves hearing them and gossip about school, either that or an excuse for Stiles to lay around with the girls half naked in their PJ’s.

Scott looked alarmed, face paling as he perused his missed texted. “Guys, I think we’re needed over at Lydia’s. From what I can gather someone’s been attacked by an enemy.”

***

Getting into the Martin residence wasn’t a problem, there was no smells of an enemy loitering around the property, and from the open window in the front of the house Derek spots Mrs. Martin walking by with a bowl of popcorn. In fact it looked almost peaceful, but everyone knew that looks could be deceiving.

Jackson, who had been pushed into the backseat of the Camaro by Derek, leaned forward, hands resting on the back of their seats. “It doesn’t look like anyone being attacked?” He voiced everyone’s opinion.

Scott was already jumping out of the car before Derek could stop, Derek and Jackson following at a more cautious pace after parking. By the time they got to the porch, Lydia’s mom was ushering them inside.

“Jackson! I’m always so glad to see you.” Mrs. Martin simpered, her cheeks flushed from wine. Derek could smell low level arousal coming off the older woman as she checked the younger teen out, setting her hand on Jackson bicep and squeezing the muscle. Jackson didn’t seem to mind the attention.

“Hey Barbra, is Lydia in?”

Mrs. Martin smiled, her wine glass almost falling out of her skinny hand. “Yes dear, please come in. She and her friends are in the back room. Can I get you or any of your friends something to drink?”

Derek had a feeling this was all a false alarm. He could hear Allison giggling in the distance and the sound of the television playing some kind of action movie. No one sounded or smelled particularly distressed.

Jackson stuck around to talk to Mrs. Martin for a second while Derek followed Scott to the back room, the beta anxious to check on his girlfriend. Derek was working himself up to a good irritation when he walked into the room and almost tripped over a pile of clothes.

“Scotty!” Allison and Stiles yelled together, leaning on each other so they didn’t fall off the couch. Lydia was lying back on a recliner, three empty beer bottles and an empty bottle of jack on the table in front of her.

They were completely drunk.

“Oh, Big Bad’s here too!” Stiles giggled, sipping from a glass cup that smelt strongly of rum and coke. “You came to save me?”

Derek snorted, leaning over the back of the couch so he could look down at Stiles. The human was wasted, nose and cheeks red, pupils dilated, not able to focus on a single point.

“Save you from what? Yourself?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Scott cuddling Allison, handing over a bottle of water that Jackson handed to him when he stepped out of the kitchen.

Stiles sat up and looked wildly around. “No! The beast. It got me.”

“Coco is not a beast.” Lydia waved her hand at them lazily. “If you stop teasing her she’d stop scratching you.”

“Nu-uh.” Stiles grabbed the back of the couch, and by proxy Derek’s hand, when he tried to stand up. The warm palm was sweaty where Stiles’ hand met the back of Derek’s. Stiles didn’t even seem to notice the contact. “She kept following me, wouldn’t leave me alone. So I thought she liked me.” Stiles lifted up his shirt, showing a pattern of scratches running down his pale chest to his hip. “I tried to rub her belly. She got mad.”

“She’s not a dog Stilinski.” Jackson was holding the enemy in question, a fluffy grey Persian who purred contently in the blonds’ arms. It seemed everyone in the Martin family loved Jackson except Lydia. The cat, Coco, caught Derek’s eye and tied to get away. Scratching up the teen’s chest and shoulders as it vaulted off his back and down the hall. Derek could see the gleam of green eyes reflecting at him from under the bed.

He would never in a million years admit it but he had to quell the urge to chase it. Something about cats drove him crazy. He’d see one run away and the wolf in him just wanted to chase. Didn’t help the things were bloody bastards, deserved every chase up a tree they got. 

“Fuck that hurt.” Jackson seethed, rubbing his chest. He took the flask of vodka from Lydia when she offered it to him, taking a long pull as his wounds healed up.

Stiles and Allison were laughing, snorting into their hands like they were trying to be quiet. They looked ridiculous.

Derek pushed Stiles back into his seat and hopped over the back of the couch to sit down next to him. Stiles slumped automatically into him, giggling into the older teen’s shoulder and almost spilling his drink. Derek took it from him before he could drop it in his lap and cause a scene.

“Aww, that’s mine. You got to ask if you want to share.” Stiles pouted, one hand wiggling around Derek’s arm so he could lean on him. Derek ignored him.

“Let me guess. You were drunk texting?” He sighed the put upon sigh of alpha’s everywhere whom had to watch over a pack of unruly teenagers. He had a feeling if he wasn’t a werewolf his blood pressure would be through the roof (than again, if he was human he might not of had to take care of said teenagers and would happily be pursuing a baseball career by now blissfully unaware of the bullet he dodged).

“No… we were serious texting. Fighting the good fight for dog-kind everywhere. Just wanted to keep you abreast.” Stiles cracked up laughing. “Breast. Boob.” He poked Derek in the chest, hiccupping when Derek caught his finger and squeezed it. Derek learned long ago it was useless getting angry at drunks, they didn’t care and they usually didn’t remember anything you tried to lecture them about. It was always best to wait until the morning, where they were in so much pain they promised anything for you to shut up.

Derek’s smile was sinister. He couldn’t wait.

Scott and Allison were in there own little happy corner, being disgustingly saccharine and cute. Allison would tip over while in the middle of saying something and Scott would set her straight before the whole process started over again.

“Stiles, he, uh, he said he would go with me. It will be a s-surprise.”

Scott blinked, glancing over at his best friend in confusion. “Okay?”

“It’s a secret. I’ve never been to a sex shop before.” Allison wobbled precariously close to the edge of the couch, Scott too frozen to catch her. “We have to buy supplies.” Luckily Allison caught herself, giggling as she slumped to the carpet on her knees. She seemed to like that arrangement better because it gave her access to the alcohol.

“Dildos!” Stiles laughed, braying right into Derek’s ear. Derek jerked back, unending Stiles in his surprise as the teen fell into his lap. They both scrambled against each other, Derek trying not to spill anything as Stiles clung to him like a limpet. “Ooh. Or not.” Stiles smiled at Derek’s crotch, a trembling finger following the inseam of Derek’s jeans up to the center.

Derek hauled Stiles back up by the collar of his shirt, depositing the teen back on his rump on the other side of the couch. The blood rushing to his dick left him feeling dizzy. If the others had caught the little act they were kind enough to look the other way. Derek wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. Part of him wanted to run away screaming while the other part wanted to take Stiles upstairs and make him scream.

“So you’ve been prank calling us all night?” Derek asked Lydia, she seemed the only one partially clear-headed. She probably wasn’t as much as a lightweight as Stiles and Allison was.

“Hmm. No. We wanted you here.” Lydia’s green eyes tried to focus on Derek’s. Her lips curling up at the corners in that funny little smile she’d been giving him lately. If the others hadn’t reassured him that he would know when Lydia was attracted to him, he’d think she was hitting on him.

Jackson took the only seat available, sitting in a lounge chair in the corner since Stiles was currently trying to spread out on the couch like he was claiming a small country. His bare feet trying to tunnel under Derek’s thighs until Derek grabbed his ankle. He gave Stiles a stern look that was wasted on him since Stiles was gapping up at the chandelier.

“You didn’t want to deal with those two.” Jackson nodded towards Stiles and Allison. “That’s why you sent that ‘S.O.S’ isn’t it.”

Lydia smiled drunkenly at him, suddenly appearing more intoxicated than she was a second ago. “What? No!”

Derek snorted, his thumb pressing at the bone of Stiles ankle just under the edge of his flannel pajamas. The skin was soft were the bone poked out, creating a fascinating distinction on an otherwise hard joint.

“Okay, maybe.” Lydia finally admitted once she saw that neither of them believed her. “It’s just my mom’s been drinking and no one can drive them home.”

“So I’m a taxi service now.” Derek quirked an eyebrow at the red-head. He was trying to ignore the purring coming from the other side of the couch. Maybe it was the cat?

Lydia pouted, sitting up straighter. “No, it’s just…you take care of us. And you said if we ever needed you to call.”

Well, Derek couldn’t fault them for that. At worst, one of them might have tried to drive home drunk and gotten into an accident, or worse. While he might still feel like he was being played, at least it was for a good reason.

Derek looked over at Stiles, who was passed out with his mouth wide open against the arm of the couch. Scott had gotten Allison back into her seat and was listening to them talk. He knew his girlfriend’s parents weren’t going to be happy to receive their daughter back home inebriated but it was a necessary evil. Though, Derek was going to leave both their asses on the Argent front door so he wouldn’t have to listen to the girl’s father lecture them. Again.  

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Jackson excused himself to use the restroom as everyone got up. Stiles grunting when Scott poked him, muttering about nipple clamps as he burrowed into the cushions. Derek closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t want to know.

“Get up Stiles.” Derek yanked on his leg. Not getting a response, he pulled on Stiles arm and the force behind it making Stiles sit up and blink sleepily up at him.

“Wha’s happn’in?”  His voice sounded rough from alcohol and misuse. A smoky quality that made a shiver run down the werewolf’s spine.

“Up, up!” Allison tried to jump up and tripped over her feet. “Obliter-opt-operation V is under way!”

Stiles smiled lethargically at them, licking his dry lips and smacking them together. “Already? More time. There’s too many bees.”

Derek didn’t even try to follow Stiles stream of though, it wasn’t worth the headache. Rolling his eyes he dragged Stiles to his feet, half carrying the lighter teen out the door. Mrs. Martin held it open for them, cooing at Allison who gave her a hug, and telling Jackson to stop by. Lydia didn’t bother seeing them out.

Derek put Stiles in the passenger seat as Scott helped Allison into the back. Jackson stood apprehensively in the grass behind them, rocking on his feet.

“What?” Derek asked once he got Stiles buckled.

“I think…”He glanced inside the car, brows furrowed.

The alpha was too tired to deal with this. Closing the door gently incase Stiles moved a limb into the way, he turned to look his beta over. Something had disturbed the other werewolf in the few minutes he had been away.

“…I think something’s going on.” Jackson finished, still looking suspiciously at the car.

“Yes. I’m driving everyone home, 2 of which are illegally drunk. If I get pulled over I’m probably going to jail tonight.” Derek answered. Ah, jail. His home away from home. He probably knew the cops there better than most kids his age (except Stiles). They had started waving all friendly-like at him when he saw them at the supermarket off-duty. He was even on a first name bases with a few of them.

“Are you getting in or not?”

Jackson frowned at him. “I’ll walk. I only live a few blocks from here. I’ll get my car tomorrow.”

Derek nodded, walking around to the driver’s side and getting in. Jackson could take care of himself so he wasn’t worried.

***

Derek had sped away the second Scott and Allison was out of his car. His wheels peeling away and leaving a burn mark as he got the hell out of dodge. The noise woke Stiles, whose forehead was leaving a greasy imprint on his clean windows.

“Pterodactyls!” Stiles startled, kicking out and hitting the consol.

“Easy,” Derek took the turn to Stiles, keeping an eye out for cops. “You’re almost home.”

“What? No…” Stiles whined, head lolling to look at Derek. It was kind of creepy the way he wasn’t blinking.

“Yes…” Derek mimicked him. “And don’t think just because I’m being nice now I’m not going to reprimand you later. Tomorrow I’ll be over bright and early.”

“You’re so mean.”

“And this is new to you?”

Stiles eyed him. “No, not really. I like it when you get all…” Stiles poked himself in the forehead, digging his fingernail in and scrunching up his face in what Derek guessed was a representation of him scowling. Derek rolled his eyes at the silly teen.

 Stiles dropped his hand and panted like he had been lifting weights. “It’s hot.”

Derek automatically started reaching to adjust the temperature when he paused. Had Stiles just…

 “Did you just say I’m hot or say that you’re hot?” He had to be clear on this.

Stiles waved his hand around, “Why can’t we both be hot? Danny finally admitted I’m attractive so I know gay guys find me hot.”

Smirking, Derek glanced at Stiles out of the corner of his eye. “How do you know I’m even gay?”

Pouting again, Stiles nibbled on his lips. Derek had to control the urge to pull over and sooth the sore flesh with his tongue. “I don’t. But Danny said you gave him a ‘bi-vide’, so I’m guessing.”

“Mmm.” Derek cleared his face as he thought about that. He had always leaned more straight except for a few noticeable exceptions. One of those exceptions was in the car right now. The problem he had was if he should reveal that knowledge to Stiles now or hold it over him for all eternity until Stiles cracked under the pressure. He kind of liked to idea of Stiles pursuing him. It sounded crazy but it might be fun.

“Can we do it if I say you’re hot?”

Derek hit a curve in the middle of a turn. “I don’t put out on the first date.” Derek finally said, smirking at Stiles once he caught his breath.

“Why not…” Stiles groaned. “I’ll put out if you do. Wait, we haven’t even been on a date!”

“Notice that did you.”

Stiles gave Derek a sharp look. Derek was startled by how serious he looked.

“Let’s go out.” Stiles demanded.

Derek laughed. “You’re not being very romantic here Stiles. Ask me nicely.”

Stiles squawked, flailing his arms. “Why are you being such a tease?”

“Me?” Derek snorted. “Look who’s talking.”

Pulling up into Stiles driveway he turned off the lights and cut the engine. The cruiser was parked and the kitchen light was still on so he knew that Mr. Stilinski was home tonight. At least he wouldn’t have to walk Stiles to his room. Too much temptation for him tonight.

“I’m not a tease.”

Derek turned to face Stiles, raising an eyebrow. “Right, because you eat bananas out of everybody’s lap.”

Stiles flushed prettily, mouth gapping like a fish. “I-well, uh.” He coughed. “I was trying to make a statement of intent.”

The older teen hid a smile behind his fist, leaning against the steering wheel. “I don’t think you were trying hard enough.”

He meant it sarcastically. Really.

“Hard enough!” Stiles hollered, pushing himself up and unbuckling his seatbelt. “Hard enough! You haven’t seen hard enough yet!”

“Wait-Stiles?” Derek reached for him but Stiles was already slipping out the door.

“Just you wait Derek Hale. I’m going to have you so hard you’ll be begging me have you!”

The light on the front porch came on.

“I was going to go easy on you, but no more! Consider yourself warned.” Stiles pointed at him. Derek might have felt threatened if the teen wasn’t swaying so much where he stood.

“Stiles?” Derek gapped. What the hell had just happened?

“Begging on your knees!” Stiles hissed, japing a finger at him and hitting the car door instead. Derek could see Stiles’ dad opening the door and poking his head out to see what all the fuss was.

Derek didn’t have a chance to clear anything up before the Sherriff collected his son. He had some thought though that he had probably fucked this all up somehow and he had no clue how.

***

Chapter Text

As a rule, Derek liked to think he surrounded himself with good people. Not necessarily smart people, but good. It wasn’t even a werewolf thing, he just knew when someone was trouble (it probably explained why it took so long to get along with Scott). But he had nice friends in high school, had a cool group of friends in New York that were friendly with everyone. This didn’t mean that he was nice, just that he liked to be around pleasant people. 

So why the hell did he hang around Stiles on a daily basis, the man was clearly evil?

He awoke early when Jackson came over, to pick up his car from the night before.

“You look like shit.” The blond said bluntly, fixing his alpha with a pointed look as he came down the stairs.

“Thanks.” Derek grunted, running a hand through his messy hair. He would have had a good night’s sleep if it wasn’t for Stiles. He hadn’t even pulled out of the driveway last night before his phone started chirping with incoming messages. Luckily, he waited until he got home to read them, which was probably a small blessing.

“Where you heading?” Jackson followed him out, dogging his heels. The early morning sun just rising over the horizon, light streaming through the trees and nearly blinding him. Perfect weather for what he had planned.

“Out.”

“Where?”

Derek stopped, sighing loudly before turning around to face his pack-mate. Something was going on here. “What is it?” He asked, trying not to let the other see how impatient he was to get going.

Jackson looked around, like he was expecting ninjas to fall from the sky or an army of trained assassins to spring a trap. “Look…I-I think you’re in trouble.”

Derek crossed his arms, leaning against his car and totally unconcerned. “How so?”

“Last night, when I went to the bathroom, I passed Lydia’s room and I saw something.” Derek nodded for him to continue. “And there were some papers and a drawing board, with pictures of you and some other things. I think Lydia and Stiles are making plans against you.”

Jackson genuinely seemed troubled so Derek didn’t outright laugh in his face. But Jackson should know that anything dealing Stiles was a joke. Especially since Stiles had already declared to Derek what his ultimate goal was.

“Don’t worry, I know about it.”

The beta looked relieved. “You do?”

Derek twirled his keys on his finger, his grin sharp. “Yeah. Let’s just say I know what they’re after.” If Stiles wanted Derek to beg, he was going to have to try harder than a few dirty text messages and a couple of blurry pictures.

“Oh good, it’s just, I saw this itinerary and a time schedule so I started thinking the worse, and then there were all these messages in the margins about you ‘going down’ and something about making you ‘their bitch’ so I thought they might be trying to overthrow you as Alpha.” Derek put a hand on Jackson’s shoulder so the teen would catch his breath.

“It’s fine. It’s all for a game I’m playing with Stiles so I know what’s going on.”

“Really? Is this some kind of strategy game for the humans?”

Derek smirked. “Something like that.”

“Oh,” Jackson took a deep breath. “Good. I was bothered by it. Some days I think you’re the only thing that stands between Lydia taking over the whole pack, much less the town.”

“She’s not even a werewolf, not fully.” Derek reminded him. The bite Lydia had received from Peter at the prom hadn’t turned her because of his death that same night, but there were some lingering effects. The young girl had sharper senses and a craving for red meat, but she wasn’t wolf, not completely. She was like a Halfling, all the benefits of being a werewolf and none of the messy transformations or rigid social hierarchy of a wolf pack. She was special that way, and a good assets to any pack she willingly joined. Stiles likened her to Bill Weasley from Harry Potter when the red-head wasn’t around to over hear him, which was immature but fitting.

“I know, she’s still scary though. Also if you’re playing a game with Stiles you should know he has her on his side. That’s a disadvantage to you.” Jackson informed him.

Derek snorted. “So?”

Jackson blinked at him, somehow conveying how stupid he thought Derek was without changing his expression. “Lydia Martin has teamed up with Stiles. It’s like two super-evil, super-geniuses teamed up together to take down…well, you.”

Derek glared.

“I mean it. Stiles is Lex Luther to your Superman, and Lydia, she’s like Batman. Evil Batman.” Jackson was hanging around Stiles too much, he was starting to sound like him. That’s all he would need, two Stiles’.  He had enough trouble with one of them.

“Chill. I can handle this, and if not I have you and Scott on my side.”

Jackson shook his head. “No. I am not going against Lydia and Stiles. Not happening, you’re on your own.”

Growling in frustration, Derek checked his watch. If he wanted to make it to Stiles’ before noon, he’d have to cut this conversation short. “Whatever. Look I have to go, plans to see to if I want to stay one step ahead of Stiles.”

The beta gave him his little puppy-dog look, blue eyes huge and eyebrows going up as he stared at Derek like he never was going to see him again. Derek rolled him eyes and opened his door, sliding into the driver’s side with easy grace and ignoring the pitiful whimpers coming from the grown teenager. His life was just one big sitcom Derek swore.

“But-but…”

“I’m serious Jackson, everything will be fine. In fact you can say it’s a win-win for everyone involved.” Derek hollered before shutting his door. If things got too out of hand he’d explain it better, but for now, that’s all he needed to know.

***

Derek was walking up just as the Sherriff was leaving. He groaned internally but pasted on a pleasant smile to cover his grimace. It was like fate was trying to stop him from getting to his prey.

“Derek, I’m surprised to see you this early.” Mr. Stilinski smiled at him. Since the murder charges were dropped and Stiles admitted that he and Scott had made everything up, the man had become a lot more nicer to Derek. He had sent a fruit basket as an apologetic ‘sorry-I-thought-you-were-a-murder’ gift that was filled with mangos and pineapples. Derek wasn’t sure if it was a joke or not but Mr. Stilinski seemed convinced he had appreciated it. 

“Yeah, came to wake Stiles up for the thing at school he has at noon.” Derek rocked back on his heels, trying not to just cut the conversation short and run into the house. There was this little evil devil sitting on his shoulder just urging him to hurry so he could commence torture on Stiles.

The Sherriff scratched at his neck. “Yeah, he’s not feeling to great this morning. Not that he doesn’t deserve it for what he did. Thanks by the way, for bringing him home last night.”

“No problem sir.” Derek’s smile was tight. Remembering last night just made him more anxious. “I’d rather they call me for a ride then try driving while intoxicated. I’ll keep an eye on them to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Mr. Stilinski patted Derek on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid. You know, you’d make a great police officer. You ever think of joining to force?”

Derek’s eyes widened in horror.

Laughing, the Sherriff pulled away. “Well that says enough. I’m just saying though, you should think about it. Leroy and Jess have nothing but praise for you, so if you need any recommendations to join the academy just ask.”

Derek waved at him weakly as the Sherriff drove away. Maybe it was just a Stilinski thing? Like crazy just came naturally to that family.

Then he remembered what he came here for. Zipping inside he made a detour to the kitchen then headed upstairs, a sinister grin on his face as he stood over Stiles’ bed.

Stiles was spread out taking up as much room as he could, arms spread eagle, legs apart, drooling all over his sheets. He looked rather peaceful in his flannel pajamas and t-shirt. If Derek was all at much sentimental, he might take the moment to study the boy who was determined to seduce him. Think about what that meant Stiles thought of him, that Stiles wanted him and had made battle plans to get into Derek’s pants. That was some serious dedication right there.

So Derek poured a cup full of ice water on him.

 “HOLY-FUCK! SHIT, DAMN!” Stiles sprung forward and rolled right off the bed, taking half the covers with him. “Mayday! Attack!”

Derek watched calmly as the younger teen tangled himself in his sheets, rolling around on the floor and somehow cocooning himself under his bed. 

Stiles moaned, hiding his head under a mountain of sheets. “The light…turn it off. The world is trying to kill me.”

Derek scoffed, setting the empty glass on the dresser and taking a seat at the computer.

Finally noticing that he wasn’t alone, Stiles popped his head out of his nest of blankets and blinked blearily at him. “Is that…Satan?”

“You wish.” Derek smirked, examining his nails.

Stiles hissed at him like a cat, crawling back into his dark cavern under the bed. “Go away. The only thing between me and humiliation right now is my headache and I’d rather keep it that way.”

“Oh, does that mean you’re embarrassed about sending me those naked pictures last night.” It was only a half lie, he really hadn’t been naked and the pictures were too grainy to even see anything explicit. Stiles had horrible focus taking pictures while irate and drunk. The clearest one was of Stiles licking his middle finger and looking rather constipated instead of sexy. Derek had saved that one as his wallpaper. 

The bundle squeaked, crawling across the floor like a caterpillar to reach his phone that had been knocked off the dresser in the assault A pale hand reached out and grabbed it before disappearing quickly back into the blue folds of cotton. Derek twirled around in his chair, waiting for the inevitable.

“Oh. My. Gawd.”

“Wait until you read what you wrote.” Derek said, biting his cheek to stop from laughing. This was so much fun, why didn’t he torture Stiles more often? And the best thing about it: Stiles did it all to himself.

There were a few minutes where all he could hear was the sounds of keys being pressed and Stiles heart beat pumping so loud it sounded like it was going to burst out of his chest Alien-style.

After a pause Stiles groaned, throwing his phone across the room like it had betrayed him. “This is not real. I’m in a nightmare aren’t I. Please say I am.”

Derek smiled triumphantly. “Nope. I believe you wanted me over so I could get down on my knees and beg you to suck your- what did you call it, oh yes- overly large monster cock like the bitch that I was.”

Stiles curled up into a ball, whimpering in shame.

“You know, I’m not feeling the urge to beg right now.” Derek commented, putting his chin on his knuckles.

“I’m begging you,” Stiles whined. “Stop talking, I’ll do anything.”

Derek froze. “Oh really…”

“Yes, just…wait.” Stiles immediately stopped wiggling and threw the covers off wildly. “No! I won’t. I lied.”

Pouting, Derek leaned back in the chair. “Too bad. I had some interesting ideas.”

Stiles looked at him bizarrely, but that could have been because Stiles looked ghastly. His face creased on one side, his eyelids swollen from dehydration, a red rim around his eyelids. Stiles’ skin was pale and dry, giving him a rather zombie-ish look. Hangovers did not make people pretty. They also smelt really bad.

Rubbing at his eyes, Stiles squinted at him. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“I told you I’d be back today to wake you.”

“You did?”

“Last night,” Derek reminded him again. “You asked me out on a date right after wards.”

“I did not.” Stiles eyes widened in shock.

“Did too. You got mad when I said you had to try harder.”

Stiles blinked at him in confusion. “You did?”

Derek nodded. Stiles looked at the floor as he tried to remember the exchange, frowning and scowling as bits and pieces came back to him.

“I remember some of it. You said I wasn’t good enough!” Stiles pointed at him in accusation.

Crossing his arms, Derek didn’t look impressed. “No I didn’t.”

Stiles rubbed at his forehead, his headache worsening. “So my seduction worked?”

“If that’s all you got then I really feel sorry for you.”

“Excuse me!” Stiles scowled at him, crawling on the floor back towards his bed. “That was some prime-A seduction techniques I learned from a pro.”

Derek dusted at his pant leg. “I’ve seen better.”

Stiles jaw dropped.

“Nothing you’ve done so far makes me want to get on my knees and beg for it, Stiles.”

Gapping like a fish out of water, Stiles hobbled to his feet, using the dresser drawers to stand up and face werewolf. He trembled like a newborn calf, looking frail and stunned by Derek’s admission. His hand trembled so badly he knocked stuff off the dresser accidently.  

“So you…want me to seduce you?” Stiles asked, just to be 100% sure. He wasn’t ruling out the possibility this might all be a hallucination brought on by alcohol-poisoning.

Happy that Stiles was finally getting it, Derek leaned forward. He knew the position made him seem predatory, leering up at Stiles from under his hair. “I’d like nothing better.”

“O-k.” Stiles squeaked, clutching his wet shirt to his chest.

***

 “You know, I think you’re trying to seduce me.” Stiles said around a mouthful of breakfast. Derek had whipped something up while the teen had gotten dressed. Both of them had needed a moment to compose themselves.

Derek looked at him blankly over the newspaper. “Do you feel the urge to get down on your knees and beg?” 

Stiles flushed. “Yes. Maybe? No.” He furrowed his brows at the older teen sitting across from him as the color came back to him. “Is this a trick?”

Shaking the paper out, Derek hummed. “Just let me know when you admit defeat, and I’ll let you date me.”

“Let me?” Stiles choked on his food.

Derek nodded. “The way I see it, it comes down to who cracks first: you or me.”

“Somehow I think your making this into a bigger deal than it should be…”

“Not really. You issued a challenge and I willingly accepted it.”

A light came on in Stiles’ brain. Somehow he was starting to understand where Derek was going with this.

“Okay then. Prepare yourself, I fight dirty-and that wasn’t a euphemism.” He smirked, mouth puffed out like a chipmunks as he took a savage bite out of his croissant roll. Derek rolled his eyes and turned to the sports section.

Let the games begin.

***

Chapter Text

***

Derek left Stiles’ house unmolested and headed over to Lydia’s. The red-head had already been up, dressed and in good spirits to leave. She had explained to Derek that she really didn’t get hangovers before the bite, and now it was like it had never happened. He was sure the others wouldn’t think that was fair, Stiles had moaned about a headache all through breakfast.

“Let’s go,” Lydia pushed him out the door and towards his car. “I promised Jackson I’d be there early to collect the money.”

“What exactly is going on?” The only thing that Derek knew was that it was for lacrosse, some kind of fundraiser to raise money over the summer for new uniforms.

Lydia rushed him into the car, somehow seeming very impatient by staying perfectly still. “A car wash.”

Derek felt his stomach drop.

“Hey, you know what,” Lydia twirled to look at him, fluttering her eyelashes. “I bet if you helped out they would give you a free wash.”

“I’m fine. My car’s already clean.” They hit a bump on the road, splattering mud all up the side of Derek’s car. He really wanted to blame Lydia for that, but there was no way that was her fault.

Probably.

“You were saying.” Lydia smirked at him, clicking open her compact to apply her makeup.

Derek sighed, “We’ll see.”

He had no doubt where this was going to lead. A carwash, where the lacrosse players would be washing cars, probably shirtless, and Derek standing there helpless as Stiles rubbed down his tires until they were squeaky clean. Water dripping down his chest as Stiles slid the sponge up the hood of Derek’s Camaro, bending over to reach that high spot, jeans tightly cupping his ass. Licking his lips as he looked at Derek with hooded eyes, water droplet glittering in his eyelashes like tiny stars.

Yeah, fuck that. Derek did a u-turn, throwing Lydia across the car and smearing her lipstick that she’d been meticulously applying. He spotted the muddy hole, swerving so he splattered the other side. Lydia cringed, pulling a tissue out of her purse and cleaning up her face. The look she shot Derek was one of rueful disbelief.

He’d like to see Stiles try to be sexy now.

***

“The hell happened between now and the last time I saw you?” Jackson dropped his rag as he looked over Derek’s car. The black paint was hidden under a sludge of brown mud and rotten vegetation. Derek had hit every pot-hole, ditch, and dirty side street to get here and was rather proud of himself for it. Lydia was upset that they had gotten here so late, flouncing off in a huff to find Allison.

“Let’s call it a pre-emptive strike against the enemy.” Derek informed him, looking around for the other two missing pack members. Danny had taken one glance at Derek’s car and walked in the other direction. Allison was with Lydia, huddled up in a sweater and sunglasses, trying to stay in the shade and avoid all human interaction.

“Okay?” Jackson eyeballed him. “I’m guessing that means you want a wash.” Jackson looked forlornly at the other cars in line behind Derek’s.

Derek smiled pleasantly at him.

“Hey guys, what’s this? Derek here for a car wa-hhaaat…the the hell happen to your car?” Stiles came up behind the blond, throwing his arms around Jackson’s shoulder. “You go off-roading again or something? Chased by an army of swamp people? Get stuck behind a herd of buffalo?”

Derek transferred his smile to Stiles, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Why Stiles, just the person I was looking. Can I request a player to clean my vehicle?” He asked Jackson who was quick to catch on, thrusting a bucket and sponge into Stiles arms and walking determinedly away.

Stiles sputtering, looking wildly around for help.

Derek put a hand on the side of the teen’s neck, forcing Stiles to look at him. “I expect a good job.” He gave Stiles’ cheek a tap. “Don’t forget the undercarriage, get down on your knees if you have to.”

“You-Your something else Derek Hale.” Stiles seethed, clutching the bucket to his chest.

“I want be able to see my reflection on the hood.” Derek said, just to jab him one more time.

Stiles muttered “I’m gonna smash your face in the hood”, walking away from Derek and towards the filthy car. Derek found a lawn chair nearby for clients to wait and set it at the perfect place to watch the show. He wanted front row seats to Stiles’ humiliation.

Someone came by and gave Stiles some soap, freeing up the spare water hose since the major lacrosse team members were using the main one to work together on one car at a time. Stiles glared at Derek, like it was his fault that Stiles wasn’t getting any help cleaning the car.

Derek smiled pleasantly, accepting a glass of lemonade from one of the girls helping out with the fundraiser. He put his sunglasses on and sipped obnoxiously from the straw, making sure Stiles could hear him. All he needed was a little umbrella and he’d be set.

Stiles started off by spraying down the car, slush pooling around his flip flops as the mud slid easily off. Once the majority of the grime was off though, he got down to business. With a glance at Derek, he turned the water hose on himself, spraying his chest and getting water all over his t-shirt and swim-trunks. The wet shirt clinging tightly to his chest, the white clothes making it easy to see it hardened nipples.

Stiles ran a hand up his neck and to his hair, looking over at Derek with hooded eyes and smirking. Derek stopped breathing for a second.

Now sufficiently wet, Stiles bent over –making sure to stick his ass in Derek’s direction- and got the sponge wet. Derek didn’t even know there was a way to sexily squeeze a sponge but Stiles did it. Wrist twisting at an angle to get the access soap out, bubbles dribbling down pale legs. Once done with that, Stiles spread his legs and leaned forward against the car hood, using broad stokes to reach the farthest corners of the car’s top.

“The hell you doing?” Lydia growled in his ear. Derek hadn’t even heard her come up behind him, he was so concentrated on watching Stiles that he jumped.

“What?” He asked, trying to hide his ragging hard-on.

“I said it’s free if you help out.”

Derek tried to glare at her but with his sun glasses on it wasn’t as effective as it usually was. Lydia plucked the drink from his hands and kicked the bottom of his seat, forcing Derek up.

“Get over there, he has to work all day and no one’s helping him.”

“That’s not my problem.” Derek shrugged, glancing back towards Stiles who now was on his haunches cleaning the front of the car, the dimples on his lower back visible. His mouth watered, he wanted to press his fingers into those dips and bite the back of Stiles neck as he thrusted his hips forward.

“It is now.”Lydia thrusts a sponge at him instead. “Stiles! Derek’s going to help you!” She hollered over at the teen, who paused to look at them in surprise.

Derek swiped the extra bucket from her, stomping over to his car to help. This reeked of a set-up and if Stiles didn’t look as disbelieving as he felt, the teen would have gotten it.

Stiles looked at him from the corner of his eye as Derek started on the roof. Scrubbing furiously and grumbling under his breath. He hadn’t expected to be put to work.  

“Oh, sorry. I need to get this spot.” Stiles ducked under Derek’s arms, pressing the back of his body to Derek’s front, his ass thrusting back into the werewolf’s pelvis and rubbing against Derek’s half hard erection.

Derek choked on air.

“Don’t mind me,” Stiles winked at him over his shoulder. Derek couldn’t resist rolling his hips forward, pressing the hard line of his cock against the crack of Stiles’ rear. A growl started in his chest, rumbling out as Stiles slid his body down to get the lower parts of the car. Bent over with his ass against Derek’s front, he wiggles.

There was a screech as Derek’s claw scratched the roof of his car.

Stiles glimpsed up in concern, glancing at the car before taking a look at Derek’s expression. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him because he stood back up, leaning into Derek’s chest. “I’m not…bothering you am I?” He grinned.

Derek panted, trying to control himself. He didn’t want to wolf out and he didn’t want to bend Stiles over right here in front of everyone. Though, the teen would deserve it, Derek wasn’t going to give in this early in the game. His ambition coming back to him, Derek got himself under control. He blinked at Stiles, “No, it’s fine.” He set a soapy hand on Stiles hip, his t-shirt riding up to expose pale skin. Stiles purred, a hand coming up to caress at Derek’s jaw. Derek closed his eyes and counted to ten.

Stiles frowned as Derek pulled back. Than his jaw hit the ground as Derek pulled off his shirt.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Stiles gapped.

Tossing his shirt back to his chair, Derek gave the teen a pleasant smile. “I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty.” He explained.

“Oh.” Stiles voice sounded hollow as he gazed at Derek. He looked like a starving man at a $1 buffet, hungry for the main course.

Derek went back to cleaning his car, making sure to lean as far forward as he could so his muscles bulged just right. Stiles would pause every time he caught Derek doing something particularly sexy, like lean over to get at a low spot.

Derek was just happy that Stiles didn’t get close enough to touch him. With all this tension between them he probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing something truly stupid, like throw the teen over his shoulder like a sack of flower and find a bush to make out in.

They finished easily enough, Derek drying as Stiles cleaned the inside the best he could. Both watching each over warily and doing the best to display their bodies to the other’s eyes. There were some moved that were terribly inconvenient and would most likely make him sore later, but was totally worth the slack jawed look that came over Stiles from watching him.

“Hey Derek,” Stiles called from inside the car, sitting in the driver’s seat as he cleaned the dash board. “Come here for a moment.”

The werewolf trotted over, swiping the dry towel against the door as he walked by. He put his hands on the roof as he loomed over Stiles who was half in the car. “What’s up?”

“You going to need these or should I throw them away?” Stiles asked.

Derek tried to see what he had in his hands but his libido was screaming at him as Stiles opened his legs wide, pulling Derek between them so he could see what Stiles was talking about. The younger teen’s hand curled around the back of Derek’s leg, moving up from his knee to the top of his thigh. Stiles leaned forward, licking his lips.

Stiles face was really close to Derek’s crotch.

Knees going weak, Derek stumbled forward and banged his knee against the hard side of his Camaro, pain lacing up from the impact and causing Derek to sway back. Stiles grabbed him and pulled him forward as the older teen slumped forward, his forehead against his arm as he looked down at Stiles.

“Shit.” Derek hissed, Stiles face pressed against his bare abdomen. Soft skin sliding against the hard muscles there, Stiles hands on his hips and holding him still. Derek could feel Stiles lips curl into a smile against his stomach.

“Stew!”

Derek jumped back as Stiles coach appeared behind them. Stiles letting him go quickly, face flushing at being caught. They both looked uneasily at the aggravated adult.

“You done yet Balinski?” The coach eyed them both, looking Derek over with surprising admiration. “Is this one of the new freshman?”

“Yes!” Stiles hopped out of Derek’s car, throwing an arm around the taller teen’s shoulders. “He’s thinking about joining the team so he volunteered to help out.”

The coach looked like he was going to touch him, so Derek scowled darkly at him.

“Well,” The coaches’ eyes alighted in delight he stares at Derek. You could practically see his plans flashing in his little brain, the medals and trophies the team would get with Derek on his team. “You make sure he has a fun time. Don’t harass him or anything, you hear. Where’s Whittemore and McCall, he should meet the co-captains?”

Jackson and Scott’s head pop up a few cars over, looking scared and shaking their heads wildly.

“Uh,” Stiles flung his hands around. “He’s already met them. He doesn’t like Jackson all that much.”

Jackson frowns at them from a distance.

“Oh, too bad.” The coach furrowed his brows as he though how to win Derek over. “Take a break you two. Whoever is overcompensating with this car should be proud of you both, you did a good job.” The older man simpers, herding Derek and Stiles to a bench where the same girl as before is passing out lemonade. He points directly at Stiles and tries to communicate something as Derek gets his drink, walking away when Stiles nods, thinking the teen understood. Stiles ruefully takes his own cup as he watches his coach leave them alone.

“Overcompensating,” Stiles snorts, hiding a laugh behind his fist. Derek pulls himself away to scowl at Stiles. He wasn’t overcompensating for anything, if anything the car was a true reflection of Derek’s character. And his dick wasn’t small. He had half a mind to show Stiles right there that he wasn’t overcompensating.  

“Excuse me,” An older woman approaches them as Stiles gulps down a glass. Derek stares balefully at her. “Can I request you both to clean my car?” She points at her silver minivan. There is a large group of woman behind her, all looking eagerly at Derek and Stiles both.

“I’ll pay extra.” She smiles pleasantly at him, holding out two twenties.

Lydia appears out of nowhere, snapping the money up. “Of course they will!” She smirks at the boys as they both groan.

***

Chapter Text

***

After a long day of cleaning cars for no apparent reason beside the fact that every time he tried to leave Stiles’ coach would corner him, Derek just wants to go home and sleep. But alas, it was not to be.

“How about we all go out to eat?” Danny said, looking around at everyone’s tired faces.

“I’m broke.” Scott mumbled, pillowing his head in his arms. He was slumped against Stiles on a picnic bench, both whining miserably about sun burns.

Lydia sighed, “Fine, it will be my treat.” She was the only one not wet and exhausted, as the Tylenol had kicked in eventually and Allison had decided to help clean the cars instead of collect money.

“I hate you all.” Derek grumbled, using his t-shirt to dry his hair. Seriously, he didn’t even watch them play, so how had he been talked into helping the lacrosse team? They owed him for this, majorly. Maybe once he got Stiles to give in, he could take it out on his hide.

As if sensing his thoughts, Stiles snorted into his hands, blinking sleepily up at him. “If anybody should be hatin’ it should be me.”

Jackson fell into the seat beside Stiles, looking confused. “Why, you had Derek helping you.”

“Exactly,” Stiles glared. “Do you know how many cars we had to clean just so those soccer mom’s could ogle him.” Derek looked away slightly embarrassed.

Thankfully, after cleaning Derek’s car, Stiles had broken off trying to be sexy while cleaning. It would have been awkward with a middle aged woman watching them like a hawk ever time. Eyeing them like it was the most action they’d had in weeks and sighing loudly as Derek or Stiles did something particularly manly.

“Food.” Allison moaned, raising her head up from Scott’s shoulder. “Did someone say something about free food?”

Lydia surged forward. “Yes! Now come on guys, get up. It’s food, free food.”

“Free?” Scott thought her untrustworthy. He had heard stories from Jackson, he knew anything Lydia offered was a double edged sword.

“Yesss!” Lydia pulled Stiles up, the teen flopped around like a dead fish, too tired to put up a fight. “Come on, I’ll take everyone to a burger joint. Greasy hamburgers, salty curly fries, chocolate milkshakes.” Lydia spit the words out like she couldn’t believe she was offering it.

“Mmm, fries.” Stiles smiled salaciously, swaying in place. Derek put a hand out to steady him.

“Milkshakes.” Allison chimed in, curling an arm around Scott’s forearm.

“Meat.” Jackson grunted, pulling himself up so he could stand. He helped Danny up and the two leaned against each other like two drunks, the only thing keeping them from toppling over was each other.

“Good, now everyone let’s head out.” Lydia corralled them towards the cars, everyone breaking off to their respective vehicle; Scott with Allison, Danny with Jackson, Lydia with Stiles, and Derek to his own.

 Derek had to pause before he got into his car, remembering the last person to sit in his driver’s seat. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans, a friendly reminder of its own participation with Stiles. How close Stiles’ plump mouth had been to his aching dick.

Shaking his head to clear the image, he got in. Derek had a feeling it would be a while before he could look at his car and not get a raging hard-on.

***

“Om my gush, shoo gut.” Allison moaned around her burger, taking a huge bite out of it. Everybody agreed, tearing into their own meal with gusto. They had been working out in the sun all day with only a few snacks and glasses of lemonade to keep them from starving.

Stiles was already on his third burger, stuffing his face full of fries when his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. Derek frowned, how had he ever seen this guy as sexy?

“You people are barbarians.” Lydia ate primly at her chicken salad. She and Danny were the only ones not eating something with meat, as Danny had opted out for a house special grill-cheese sandwich. Four different types of cheese oozing out between two slices of sourdough bread, the smell of it making Derek’s nose twitch in pleasure.

Jackson crumbled up the last of his wrappers. He had been keeping even with Stiles, both teens finishing their pile of burgers at the same time. “That was wonderful.” The blond burped.

Rubbing his belly, Stiles leaned back in the booth, his feet kicking out and hitting Derek’s ankle across from him. Derek looked at him from under his lashes, wary of any movement Stiles made in his direction. “I feel so fat.” Stiles moaned, not even paying a bit of attention to Derek.

Scott poked Stiles in the stomach. “You look pregnant, man.” The beta werewolf laughed, rubbing at the protruding belly. “It’s Buddha Stiles.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, sipping at his vanilla milkshake. “Yes, I’m sorry Allison but I can’t hide it anymore, I’m having Scott’s puppies.”

Derek almost snorted his drink out his nose, thankfully no one caught him as Allison had pealed into laughter at the same time. Pushing Scott away so she could reach over him to get to Stiles, Allison shoved at Stiles playfully. “You hussy!” Allison giggled, “Trying to steal my man.”

“I think he’d be having Derek’s puppies if he was having anyone’s.” Jackson muttered, making the three teens freeze. Derek paused mid-bite to glower at Jackson.  

Lydia started laughing, “Please, can you imagine the mechanics involved.”

“Please, stop.” Scott whined in horror. He didn’t want to think about his alpha impregnating his best friend. The idea hurt his brain too much. Derek felt thankful someone else had spoken up for him.

“I’m serious.” Lydia ignored them. “The genetics involved and also there’s the whole puppy thing. Does that imply that he’d have to be a dog-excuse me- a werewolf for the fetus to be canine? Puts a whole new spin to doggy-style.”

Derek’s rubbed his fingers against his forehead in frustration. Jackson was looking imploringly at him from the other side of the bench, his eyes begging for Derek to make her stop. 

 “Enough Lydia.” He ordered. Some of the others were looking a little green around the gills, Allison in particular was washed out pale.

Lydia looked like she was about to disregard him, but one glance from him shut her up for good. She flounced back in her seat, crossing her arms and staring out the window in resentment.  

They all sat there for an awkward minute or so. Finally, Stiles belched, ruining the tension completely as everyone turned to stare at him in shock.

“Geez Stilinski.” Danny laughed.

“What? Jackson burped and no one said anything.” Stiles pointed a frosted straw at the blond. “Why goes everyone think it’s gross when I do it?”

“Because Jackson’s a delicate flower and has some grace to excuse himself.” Danny answered, bumping his arm against the co-captain. The two shared a smile.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at them. “I don’t remember--”

“Oh, desserts here!” Allison interrupted, moving her plate aside to make room for her brownie Sunday. Danny had also ordered a dessert, an apple pie with whip cream.

“That looks nice,” Stiles leaned forward to look at it. The teen’s natural scent drifting off him and towards Derek, who shifting in his seat to adjust for a rising problem. It was a sad day when just the smell of Stiles aroused him, but he had spent the whole day around the teen half dressed. Stiles the little tease, hadn’t even needed to try very hard to be sexy and get a reaction out of Derek.

Thankfully Scott was too engrossed with his girlfriend, and Jackson was far enough away the scent of the diner around them would mask the embarrassing smell of his alpha getting turned on. Much less by something simple like Stiles sucking on a straw.

Stiles made a sound in the back of his throat as he watched Danny scrape the whip cream off his pie.

“What? You want it?” Danny asked.

Stiles made grabby hands at him.

Laughing, Danny passed it over. A bowl full of fluffy creamed sugar, just what Stiles needed Derek thought.

As Danny and Allison split up the desserts to those who asked for a bite, Derek was taken aback to find he had Stiles attention all to himself.

Stiles had a spoon full of whip cream paused in the air before him, contemplating his next action, a gleam in his eyes that Derek didn’t welcome.

Stiles licked the spoon slowly, making sure Derek could see every drop of white cream going into his mouth. Smearing a tinny bit on his lips, Stiles swiped his tongue around his lips obscenely to get every sticky bit of sugary morsel. Smacking his lips together and twirling the tip of the spoon on is bottom lip.

Derek narrowed his eyes. More because he suddenly got tunnel vision directly at Stiles mouth and not because he was angry, Derek was far from angry.

Stiles flicked the tip of his tongue against his spoon.

Derek was on a whole other side of the spectrum from angry.

He felt a toe wiggle against the cuff of his jeans. Stiles bare feet skating up the inside of his pants, playing footsie with him and he (tried, and frankly was winning at) seducing Derek with whip cream. Derek’s imagination was going against him, visualizing Stiles as he licked the fluffy dessert off Derek’s chest and working his way down. Something larger than a spoon occupying Stiles mouth as he sucked hard, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed down.

“I feel like I’m watching my parents make eyes at each other.” Jackson muttered, pulling Derek rudely from his day dream.

“I feel skeezed out.” Scott said, staring wide eyed as his friend flirted with his alpha. Jackson was right, it was like watching your best friend hit on your pseudo werewolf dad.

 Derek went rigid. The foot pressing against his thigh froze, pulling away as Stiles dropped his spoon into his empty bowl. Stiles glanced out the window, using a napkin to clean his face.

“Are we done here?” Derek growled. He didn’t know what he was more upset about. The fact that he let things gets so carried away in front of the others or the fact that Stiles had stopped in embarrassment. He could have dealt without the audience either.  

Lydia jumped into action. “Yeah, let me use the bathroom first.”

The others all made similar excuses, promising to meet them in the parking lot. Stiles and Derek sat there for a moment, uncomfortably aware of the other.

“So…” Stiles tore his napkin into little pieces. He looked at Derek from under his lashes, expecting to be yelled at for embarrassing the older teen.

“You shouldn’t tempt me in front of the others.” Derek surprised him by answering calmly. Taking the napkin from Stiles hands and balling it in with his trash. “It makes their wolves uncomfortable.”

“But not you?” Stiles blurted.

Derek smirked. “No. I could care less how they feel about you and me together. I’m just telling you so their behavior is more understandable.”

Stiles blushed, nibbling on his thumb. “So, you don’t mind flirting in public?”

Derek raised an eyebrow at him, hazel eyes flashing in enjoyment. He could care less how uncomfortable the others were, just as long as Stiles didn’t stop. The only thing he had to feel bad about what if he got too out of control, his own emotions could influence the others into doing something they rather would not do. But he was sure he could head that off before it happened.

“Well, good then.” Stiles leaned forward and grabbed Derek by the collar of his shirt. Derek was so startled he let it happen, Stiles pulling him forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek.

Derek sat back and placed his hand on the spot, it tingled where Stiles lips had pressed gently against his skin. “What was that for?”

“Well, I heard you end a first date with a kiss.” Stiles smiled at him, his face flushed and hands jittering. The teen looked like he was going to vibrate right out of the booth if he stood still for a second longer. “I don’t want you to think you’re easy or anything.”

“I didn’t even pay for it though?” Derek was bizarrely shocked by Stiles’ actions.

“So?” Stiles shrugged, finally giving in and moving out of the seat. He did wait for Derek to follow him though. “I think today counted as a date.”

“You have a weird concept of what a date is.” Derek answered, stuffing his hands in his jeans to stop himself from reaching for the other teen. They headed out into the parking lot to wait for the others, it was doubtful that they all had to go to the bathroom at the same time. His pack was like a bunch of teenage girls (well, 2 of them had an excuse), going together to gossip about them behind their backs.

Stiles glanced at him, smiling softly. “Well, I’m sure you can show me how it’s done then.”

 Derek smirked down at him. He had walked right into that one. “I guess I will. You busy Monday night?”

Stiles pretended to think it over. “I’ll have to check my calendar, pencil you in.”

“Just let me know,” Derek said, leaning against Stiles jeep. Stiles sat on the bumper, close to Derek.

“Fuck it! Of course I’m not busy Monday.” Stiles threw his hands in the air. “If I am I’ll find a way around it. I am not missing out of you taking me on a real date.”

Derek laughed softly. “Okay, Monday night then.” He thought about what to do and where he could take Stiles. He had kind of surprised himself with that offer. Not having been on a real date in a long while, he wondered what he could do with Stiles. Something that will hopefully end this game soon, he was going to have an epic case of blue balls if not.

“Does this mean you give in?” Stiles leered up at him.

“Not a chance.” Derek leered back. The game would end when Stiles gave in. Derek could live with a few nights of frustration. He’d gone this long without a partner, what was a few more days? In all truthfulness, he would be surprised if Stiles lasted the week.

They both were distracted from staring at each other when the rest of the pack came out of the building, talking and arguing with each other. Neither one moving away when the group joined them, leery of the actions between their alpha and Stiles. The boys looked confused between the two. Lydia and Allison were the only two who didn’t seem very astonished, lending credit to Jackson’s warning of Stiles’ having back-up.

Well, Derek might not have people backing him up, but he had experience. That had to count for something.

***

Chapter Text

Derek got the call around 10:30 pm. Stiles asking him to come over. He sounded worried and a bit upset, so Derek didn’t question him. Just got in his car and promised to be there as fast as he could.

It wasn’t until he was climbing in the window that smelt Jackson.

“He okay?” Derek stood at the foot of the bed, taking in the two curled bodies. Stiles was back against the headboard with Jackson’s head pillowed on his stomach, stroking his hair and humming softly.

Jackson was half asleep, smelling like misery and vodka.

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered. “Fight with his parents.”

“Ah,” Derek said, getting on the bed with them. He didn’t know everything about Jackson’s family but he knew some of it. About Jackson’s adoption and his parent’s bewildered confusion at Jackson’s attempts to impress them. He knew that Jackson came to him wanting to be turned so he could have that stability and unconditional acceptance he had always wanted. Derek didn’t fault him for it. Some day’s he did wonder though if he shouldn’t have waited, letting Jackson grow into his own skin first before giving him another.

“He asleep?” He asked, sliding into the space next to Stiles and behind the blond, cocooning the young beta between them.   

“Mmhm.” Stiles nodded, blunt nails scratching behind Jackson’s ears. The other teen murmured, pressing his nose into Stiles’ soft stomach at the disturbance.

Derek looked them both over. They both seemed unharmed, physically at least. “So why’d you call me?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. “He was asking for you.”

Derek smirked. “So he came here?”

Shrugging, the teen tried to move Jackson’s head over onto a pillow and only succeeded in getting him to cling tighter. “Well, he wanted to see me too. I think he knew I’d call you though.”

“How did he get here? Did he drive?” Derek had promised to watch over the boys and make sure they didn’t drink and drive. He’d feel like he failed Stiles’ dad if he wasn’t able to uphold that promise.

“No, he called so I picked him up at the park by his house. I tried to get him to sleep in the spare bedroom but he refused to let go.” Stiles said to Derek’s relief, petting Jackson on the back of the neck.

“Good. I think he knew you’d take care of him.” Derek said. Stiles’ warm brown eyes stared right into Derek’s hazel. There was the saying that you weren’t supposed to stare a wolf in the eyes, especially the alpha. And while submission was good, Derek wasn’t looking for that in Stiles. He needed a partner, not another body to look after. “He probably likes the way you smell, that’s why he won’t let go.”

Stiles looked surprised. “Really? You saying I smell good or something?”

Derek nodded, moving his own hand close to Jackson’s nose so he’d catch his scent. He didn’t just want to pull the beta off, he could panic or worse and somehow hurt Stiles. It was best to lure him away with the scent of his alpha, something even unconscious he’d respond to.

Jackson muttered, shifting away from Stiles and turning towards Derek. Hazy blue eyes blinking sleepily at them.

“What do I smell like?” Stiles asked, staying completely still as Jackson moved one arm away from him.

“Bread.” Jackson muttered, nuzzling his nose back into Stiles stomach like he was remembering. His hand was around Derek’s wrist, trembling lightly as he held on tightly.

“What?” Stiles blinked in confusion at Derek. He didn’t seem very surprised at Jackson’s reluctance to let go, just accepted it and moved on.

Derek smiled ruefully. “You smell like bread. Homemade.” He didn’t think he was going to get Jackson to let go anyways. He acknowledged that Derek was there, but was too comfortable where he was at to stir.

“Is that good?” Stiles laughed gently, his stomach jumping and vibrating Jackson’s head. The blond grunted, shifting his face to bury it in Stiles side instead.

Giving up moving the teen, Derek slid in behind him to spoon him. He’d give it an hour at most before the alcohol completely left his system. Then maybe he could get an explanation of all this. He was surprised somewhat that Jackson sought Stiles and not his best friend Danny. The wolf was seeking comfort from its pack-mates in its time of need. Maybe it was just instinctual, find Stiles and one finds Derek.

Unwilling to let Jackson feel vulnerable, Derek stayed.

“Yeah. It’s pleasant.” Derek explained. “Most human’s smell like acid, from their sweat. Not you, you’re pack so you smell like us and home.”

Then again, maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Derek that Jackson had sought Stiles. There was no way to explain to Stiles that to the other he was something like a den mother. They sought him out for comfort, because Stiles made them feel strong and safe when they otherwise were feeling weak. When they needed help and reassurance they came to Derek, they went to Stiles when they needed acceptance and tranquility.

Which sounded odd, considering Stiles’ personality, but it was true. Stiles was good with people and werewolves. He was smart, resourceful, and loyal. All the things normal people looked for in a friend and all the qualities a pack looked for in pack-mates. It was just pealing back the layers of spastic attitude and jittering nerves to find that warm gooey center that was half the battle. Maturity had also helped calm Stiles down a lot thankfully.

“So I smell like a bakery.” Stiles sighed, leaning his head back against his headboard and looking up at the ceiling.

Derek snorted, reaching up to pull Stiles down to lay with them. “Usually. Sometimes like cookies.”

“Cookies!” Stiles stage whispered, shooting Derek an offended look. He wiggled down into the covers with them, letting Jackson nuzzle into his armpits. He adjusted accordingly for the added weight, moving Jackson around like he was another limb.  

“Okay, once you smelt like carrots.”

“Now you’re just messing with me.” Stiles laughed, setting his chin on the top of Jackson’s blond fluff, his face close to Derek’s.

“You probably spent the day with Lydia, she smells like rabbit food most of the time.” Derek smiled, a teasing glint to his eyes.

“I’m telling Lydia you called her an herbivore.” Stiles taunted, freeing up one arm from Jackson and running it through Derek’s hair. Thumb tracing the shell of the older teen’s ear.

Derek relaxed into the calming ministrations. He didn’t see what Stiles was doing to him as ‘petting’, not in the sense of petting an animal, more like the petting a mother does to a child or a lover to their loved one. “If there’s anyone less like a herbivore it’s Lydia. She reminds me of a praying mantis.” Derek admitted.   

Stiles laughed, biting his bottom lip so he wasn’t loud. “That’s so true.”

“She cannibal,” Jackson muttered, pulling Derek’s arm tighter around his waist. Stiles and Derek were quiet, studying to see if the blond was waking up or not. After a few minutes of just listening to him breathe deeply, Stiles shrugged. 

“Give it a few hours.” Derek informed him. “The alcohol will burn off fast and then he’ll just be an emotional teenager.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Goodie.”

Derek wiggled an arm under the pillow, moving it so he cushioned Stiles head. “Could be worse.”

“How so?” Stiles asked in disbelief.

“You could have been in the middle of something.” Derek smirked. “Something…personal.”

Stiles eyes widened. “Are you talking about sex with a fragile Jackson between us?” He mock hissed, covering Jackson’s ears like he was a child.

“I would think that since I wasn’t here, sex wasn’t an option. I was talking more along the lines of masturbation.” Derek huffed. He was trying to get a rise out of Stiles and the teen was ruining it.

Grabbing at him, Stiles cuddled Jackson closer. Like the fact that Derek was talking about sex was somehow going to harm the sleeping werewolf. “Not in front of the others you said!”

“He’s asleep.” Derek said in exasperation.

“M’ not.” Jackson grumbled. “No doing it while I’m in the bed. Therapy couldn’t fix the scaring I would receive.”

Stiles soothed the back of Jackson head and glared at Derek, cooing softly as he nuzzled his face into Jackson’s blond hair. “I won’t let the big bad wolf scare you.” Derek rolled his eyes and didn’t move a inch away. If Jackson was waking up he could get up and disappear, leaving Derek alone with Stiles in bed in peace. It would be the thing a good friend would do. Give their friends a chance to score without an audience.

“Okay, mom.” Jackson grumped, emphasizing on the ‘mom’. “I just don’t want to feel dad’s dick against my ass.”

Stiles shot Derek a scathing look.

“I’m not!” Derek defended, moving the covers aside to show him. There was no way he would get an erection with what his wolf constituted as a pup between them. It would be like having a hard-on with your children in bed with you and your mate.

Seriously, Jackson was a mood killer.

“You feeling any better?” Stiles moved Jackson face around so he could look in his eyes. Testing to see how his pupils contracted and if the blond could focus yet. “You need something to drink, maybe to eat?” Jackson had stumbled around really wasted tonight, drunk off his ass and just waiting on the curb for someone to pick him up like he had no care in the world. Stiles didn’t think Jackson understood how pretty he was, because the dude didn’t worry about some random perv kidnapping him off the street to be his sex slave like a normal person would. The guy made Stiles want to pull his hair out in frustration and maybe make a power-point presentation about stranger danger.

“No, just sleepy.” Jackson pouted pitifully, his puppy-dog eyes at full capacity tonight.

“Aww, come here.” Stiles put both arms around Jackson, tangling their legs together. Derek did not feel a surge of jealousy at this, he knew for a fact that Jackson wasn’t trying to steal Stiles from him. The teen was just looking for someone to cuddle and take care of him. Derek just didn’t understand why he felt like those dad’s on the TV sitcoms who flop around in exasperation whenever they try to get busy with their wife and their kid’s interrupt because of a nightmare.

At least tomorrow he could look forward to the date.

Jackson’s breathing eventually evened out, body going loose as he fell into a peaceful sleep.

“You staying the night?” Stiles yawned into his pillow.

“If it’s okay.” Derek didn’t want to assume. Just because they were in the middle of discovering this thing between them didn’t give him the right just presume his place was in bed with Stiles.

“Yeah, it’s more than okay. Jackson would probably prefer it if you stayed anyways.” Stiles’ eyes were getting heavy, every blink taking longer than the last to open. Derek moved closer to them, his forehead just touching Stiles’. Pulling Jackson against his front and therefore getting closer to Stiles.

“Good. I want to stay.” Derek smiled softly. He didn’t close his own eyes until he was sure both Jackson and Stiles were asleep, tugging the covers over them all and getting comfortable. Tomorrow he’d deal with their problems, for now his presence was just needed here.

Chapter Text

***

Monday morning Derek awoke to the startling realization that he had no idea where he was going to take Stiles on this date. For all his talk about experience and skills, he had no clue what the dating scene was like around Beacon Hills. He had a minor panic attack until common sense hit him like a cattle prod to the kidney and he called the one person who was reasonable and wouldn’t laugh at him for not knowing what to do.

“Hello?”

“Allison, can I come over.” Actually he was already half way to her house.

“Uh…sure? My dad’s home though.”

Derek shrugged even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “That’s fine. I have bigger things to worry about than him.” He smiled pleasantly at the image of Chris Argent finding out that a werewolf was more terrified of a date with Stiles than of a hunter. Then again, Mr. Argent knew Stiles so he would probably understand where he was coming from.

“Be there in 10 minutes.” He informed her, taking a turn too fast and almost hitting a jogger. Oh God, joggers made him think of Stiles in yoga pants. Stiles in downward facing dog, Derek pressed up behind him. He swallowed thickly, vision clearing as he remembered he was suppose to be driving here not driving off the road because his imagination couldn’t handle Stiles in tight clothes any better than in reality.

Allison stuttered. “O-okay?” She still sounded weirdly surprised that Derek was coming to her for help. Derek felt only a tiny bit bad about that. He wasn’t totally use to the idea of Allison being in his pack, voluntarily or not. Her parents were a risk to him and the others, and he had no idea how they would react to anything that happened to their daughter because their association.

“Good.” Derek hung up before anymore could be said. If he explained it now he wouldn’t be able to stop and some conversations just weren’t meant to happen over the phone.

Allison met him on the porch in her bathrobe and pajamas as he screeched into her driveway.

“Everything okay?” She looked a little worried, fiddling with her hair in nervous apprehension.

Derek shook his head and followed the teen into the kitchen, slumping down on a stool as Allison pulled out cereal and milk for breakfast.

“It’s about the date.” Derek groaned, running a hand through his hair.

Allison pretended to look clueless.

“I know you know about it.” Derek muttered. “I’m sure the whole town knows by now. Stiles can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.”

Turning her back on him so he couldn’t see her smile, Allison pulled out another bowl for the werewolf. “Now, you know that isn’t true. Stiles can be very good at keeping secrets that he thinks deserves to be kept.”

Derek swiped the bowl from her hands and glared stonily at her. “He bragged about it didn’t he.”

“Maybe.” Allison teased, knowing for a fact that Stiles had. She tended to walk on eggshells around him, and somehow seeing Derek fret over Stiles just made the guy more relatable. Part of her brain was asking her how she could have ever been scared of this guy, he obviously was a big teddy-bear.

“So what seems to be the problem?” She asked curiously. She really wanted to ask why Derek had come to her and not someone like Scott who was an urban-dictionary on all things Stilinski, but held her tongue. She was strangely appreciative that Derek had come to her instead.

Derek finished chewing on his spoon full of wheaties. “I don’t know where to take him.”

“Oh,” Allison blinked. She would have thought Derek had more experience in this area. “Um, maybe a restaurant? He likes to eat.”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded, filing the information away. “Nothing too fancy you think?” He tried to imagine Stiles in a nice restaurant where the waiters wore suits and the food was in itty-bitty portions on humongous plates.

It would like a bull in a china shop.

Allison really had no clue. “That means you’d have to dress up right?”

“Hmm, yeah. So no where fancy.”

“Please don’t take him somewhere like McDonalds.” Though Stiles most likely wouldn’t care, if Derek was coming to her for advice she didn’t want people to think she considered the place ‘date material’. She already had problems getting Scott to take her to nice places to eat, she didn’t want him to think going cheap was okay with her.

Derek looked around for a pen, grabbing one off the counter and scribbling on a napkin. “So somewhere nice, but not too nice. No dressing up.”

“Well, dress nice at least.” Allison interrupted.

 “Semi-nice.”

“Make reservations.”

Derek looked suspiciously at her. He paused in his list of restaurants he was making.

“You don’t want to sit around waiting if it gets busy.” She explained. “Show him you can think ahead.”

“Of course I can think ahead.” Derek growled, looking insulted.

“That’s not what I meant.” She backtracked. The one time Scott had taken her to a nice restaurant they had ended up waiting for 40 minutes before being seated. They had both been frustrated and too angry to enjoy the meal. “Just…call for reservations. It makes your date feel important. Like you were thinking of them all day and you couldn’t wait to plan it.”

Derek seemed pleased of that answer, going back to his list of local restaurants. “Got it. Call ahead. Beside’s eating what else should we do?”

“I don’t know, what do you usually do?” Allison finished eating and took her dished to the sink.

“In New York there was a lot more to do. Go to a play, see a band at a bar, or explore the touristy destinations. There really isn’t anything like that here.”

Beacon Hill wasn’t exactly a thriving metropolis. Most stores closed at 8pm and 10pm on weekends. There was about three clubs total in the whole town, one of which was a biker bar. Stiles would probably find it interesting and then somehow start a bar fight and get them all killed.

“No, you’re right.” Allison nodded. “How about just somewhere simple, like a movie?”

“You don’t think it’s too predictable?” Derek asked, looking unsure. Allison wanted to take a picture of his face right that second and send it to Stiles. She finally understood what he meant by Derek having puppy-eyes.

“Sometimes the simplest is the best. You already know a lot about each other so it’s not like your dating to get familiar. See it as a moment just to be together, see if you connect on an intimate level.” Okay, Allison might have been dramatizing Stiles and Derek relationship more than it warranted, but ever since she’d been let in on Stiles’ plan to woe the werewolf she’d been excited at the prospect. She was only being a tiny bit selfish in the hope that Derek dating Stiles would loosen the alpha up enough he stopped being a hard-ass about Scott and hers relationship.

Derek snorted, “I don’t think there’s a problem with connecting intimately.”

Allison had taken a shopping trip with Stiles yesterday that said differently. Stiles wide eyed confusion at all the lubes and sex toys spoke of inexperience. Derek only saving grace from deflowering a nervous virgin was Stiles ecstatic enthusiasm at the idea of no longer being that virgin. Also, one should note that you never wanted to go to a sex store with Lydia. The woman was a monster and could apparently tell how big a guy’s dick was by their gait. Allison had been surprised at how accurate she was about Scott, and slightly worried for Stiles about the estimations of Derek’s.

“Either way, a movie means Stiles will be quiet.” She said the first thing that came to mind, something that Scott would say. In all fairness, she didn’t mind Stiles talking all the time. She thought he was funny and insightful, and whoever decided to be with Stiles in the end should appreciate that also.

“True.” Derek chewed on the pen cap. “So, dinner and a movie.”

“If you were going at an earlier time I’d suggest a walk through the woods. Maybe a swim at the lake.”

Derek eye’s flashed red as a smile slowly inched across his face. “A swim…”

“Or paintballing. Do something manly and in full view of a crowd.” Allison started to sweat at the idea she had somehow given Derek. Whatever it was made her worry for Stiles. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind going paintballing on a date. Even target practice would be nice.”

She was giving herself idea here. If Derek didn’t take them she was calling up Scott to ask him on a date later this week. 

“What’s this about target practice?” Her dad shuffled in, blinking sleepily at her in his wife’s raggedy leopard-print robe. He didn’t even see Derek as he rummaged around in the fridge. Taking the milk out and drinking right from the carton.

“Nothing.” Allison squeaked, staring at Derek in alarm.

Derek took one look at what Mr. Argent was wearing and suddenly felt confident enough he could handle the situation. In fact Derek was sure he’d never be able to take anything the man threatened as serious ever again. He would imagine the hunter in woman’s clothing and fluffy frog slippers and die laughing instead.   

Mr. Argent is sitting next to Derek and eating for ten minutes before he notices anything amiss. In that whole time the werewolf could have robbed him, slaughtered his family, and made a sandwich before he was even acknowledged.

“The hell?” He squints at Derek.

Derek smirks, displaying a lot of sharp teeth.

***

Chapter Text

***

Derek texts Stiles that he’s heading over 30 minutes before they have to be at the restaurant.

He doesn’t even have to get out of the car, Stiles meets him at the curve, twitching and bobbing in place. A second later Stiles hops in, slamming the door and buckling up before whirling on Derek. “Go, go, go!”

“What’s the rush?” Derek smirks, putting the car in drive and heading off. He had half expected to wrangle the teen out of his house and now they’re going to have time to spare. Heading off on the long way into town he takes the scenic route.

“My dad,” Stiles fiddles with the collar of his shirt. He looks nice, ironed jeans and a faded blue polo to accentuate his eyes. Nothing fancy, but he looks good. Derek himself is in dark blue jeans and a grey button up.

Stiles looks nervously behind them at his house. “He’s suspicious.”

Derek blinks in confusion. “He doesn’t know you’re going out with me?” 

“Err, not ‘you’ per-say. He knows I’m going out with someone he just doesn’t know who.”

“Stiles…” Derek glares at him.

“What? I just didn’t want to get a lecture about safe-sex or protecting my maidenly virtue. He likes you and I don’t want that to change because you’re taking me out.”

“He’s going to find out anyways.” Derek sighs. He had hoped that Mr. Stilinski would give him a chance since he already knows Derek. He wouldn’t have cared to sit down with the man and hear the ground rules, especially if it meant he stayed on the man’s good side and could continue to see Stiles.

“I’m not ready to tell him.” Stiles bites at his lips, looking at Derek from under his long lashes.

Well, there was nothing to say to that. Derek can’t force Stiles to tell his dad about them, but he could emphasize the importance of telling him soon. “Okay, just, when he comes after me with a gun make sure Mr. Argent doesn’t give him any silver bullets. And no Romeo and Juliet bullshit, I don’t want to sneak around.”

Stiles nods, looking relieved. “I can deal with that. I’ll tell him soon.” He promises.

They are quiet for the rest of the ride. It’s not awkward, just tense. Like neither can decide what to say but aren’t worried about starting a conversation.

“Where are we going?” Stiles asks after a few minutes of driving down the main street.

“To eat.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere with food.”

Stiles stares at him in exasperation. “I know that.”

“Well, stop asking. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” Derek takes a turn, passing the restaurant for the second time. They still have 10 minutes before they have to be there and he hates getting to appointments early. But they didn’t look too busy so maybe they could be seated early?

“You’re not going to tell me anything about this date are you?” Stiles inquired, leaning across the consol towards the werewolf. Derek got a good whiff of Stiles’ cologne, a musky almond smell that blended perfectly with his natural scent. He found himself leaning towards the younger in teen in reply.

“Nope,” He smirked, pulling in and parking between the restaurant and the old theater they’d be going to later. They’ll have to walk but he’s okay with that.

Stiles hopped out and followed close behind, his hand teasingly brushing against Derek’s. “Can I order lobster? I hear that means I have to put out if I do.”

If that was the rules, Derek would buy the whole fish tank of crustaceans. “I don’t think they serve Lobster.” He replies all nonchalant.

“Hmm,” Stiles tapped his chin with his forefinger. “A guessing game. No lobster, so I’m guessing steak?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. Truthfully he hadn’t looked at the menu.

“Of course there is. Do you order your meat raw?” Stiles asked in excitement.

Rolling his eyes, Derek put his hand on the younger teens back to steer him, leading him around a group of college kids and keeping himself between Stiles and any threats-even though the teens looked harmless and paid them no mind, he couldn’t help but be apprehensive. “Not all the time. I can eat it but it’s not great for my human taste buds.”

“Huh,” Stiles leaned closer, his shoulder digging into Derek’s underarm. “So you have specific tastes to what your form is?”

“Kinda. Here we are,” Derek stopped in front of a large German low style house, a sign hanging from the door proclaiming it an establishment of Bavarian cuisine. “You like sausage?” He smirked down at Stiles, his hand tightening at the younger teen’s hip.

“Oh, I do.” Stiles licked his lips, eyes traveling down Derek’s chest to stare at his crotch.

Letting his hand slide down to cup Stiles butt cheek, Derek gave the round rump a squeeze. “Good, let’s see how much you can swallow, because I heard the meat his is…large.”

Stiles giggled, letting Derek lead him inside. A waiter was standing at the front in lederhosen, some kind of live music playing in the back ground.

Stiles looked around at the place in awe. “How did I not know about this place, this is awesome!”

“I asked around.” Derek shrugged all laid-back. In fact he had spent 2 hours online at the library searching for a restaurant before the old librarian had finally felt sorry for him and toddled over to help. The way he’d been huffing and puffing she had thought he’d been doing research for summer school or something and once Derek had explained he was trying to find the perfect place for a date, had scribbled down the phone number and directions to a hidden gem her late husband had taken her. She had promised a first class meal with little fuss and a good atmosphere, warning that it might not be cheap but it would be worth it.  

And it looked like it was.

“Is that an accordion?” Stiles gaped at the musician as they were led to their table.

“Come on Stiles, stop creeping out the guy and order your dinner.” Derek tried to suppress a smile, pursuing his own menu for something to eat. Most of it was written in German with an explanation of what was in the meal in English. It all looked good and hearty, newly made wurst and pickled cabbage. There was even freshly made bread that sent a tingle up his spine once he caught a whiff of it.

Stiles whipped around to look at the menu, brows furrowing as he tried to mouth out the words of the main dishes. “Shoop-ful-noodelnes? I’m taking a guess that it’s noodles of some kind.” He showed Derek his menu, pointing at Schupfnudeln.

Derek shrugged, already trying to decide what kind of sausage or meat dish to get for himself. The house special was some kind of veal that came with sweet mustard, sided with some red cabbage and a pretzel. It was recommended he try that and he was seriously considering it. “Get something you know you’ll eat. Sausage is on the next page.”

Stiles flipped over and drooled over all the selections. He changed his mind 4 times before the waitress came to get their order.

“This is really nice.” Stiles said as Derek took his menu and handed it to their waitress. “I admit I was thinking you’d pick somewhere like Red Lobster- which isn’t bad but half the people working there goes to school with me, and I didn’t want to deal with their harassment tonight. I have to say that you’ve surprised me tonight Derek.”

“Well that’s what I was trying for.” Derek informed him, sipping delicately at his water to quench the sudden thirst in his throat. They both were too young to order any of the house beers, even though Derek probably could have gotten away with it-he looked older than 21- and instead had just opted for water and a cola. “I’m glad you like it though.” He said sincerely.

Stiles’ fingers creeped across the tablecloth, fingertips’ touching Derek’s at the base of his sweaty glass. Derek let his hand spasm, catching Stiles hand up in his. The rough calluses of his fingers sliding against the smooth skin of Stiles’ palm. He heard Stiles gasp, tightening his grip on Derek’s larger hand in surprise.

Derek’s thumb brushing against Stiles’ knuckles as he looked down at their joined hands, a smile spreading across the older teen’s face.

***

“I didn’t even know that was a vegetable, it tasted so sweet.” Stiles shouted, lazily swinging their joined hands as they walked down the side walk in the dark. They had let go of each other to eat, casting salacious glances at each other all through dinner and talking easily about their week. It wasn’t until Derek had paid and they both were heading out that Stiles swooped over and grabbed his hand up again.

“It’s called red cabbage, of course it’s a vegetable.” Derek sighed. He could barely keep up the aggravated attitude though, he just didn’t have the heart for it anymore.

“I know but it tasted like candy.” Stiles tugged Derek along, heading in the direction of the car since he didn’t know that their next destination was right around the corner. Derek felt a little like he was holding back a child, twisting and twirling around at the end of his rope. He felt indulgent tonight, letting Stiles pull him around like he was on a leash.

“Please tell me you’re full, I don’t want to end up buying you any snacks at the next place were going to.”

“Where are we going?”

Derek nodded at the building in front of them, an old style theater playing old horror classics during the weekdays. He had picked it based on the distance from their restaurant and the quirky titles of the movies they were showing. It seemed like something Stiles would like.

“I thought you’d enjoy watching giant mutant ant’s attacking the earth.” Derek pointed at a black and white poster of the movie 1954 ‘Them!’. He really wasn’t expecting it to be scary, if anything they both would get a good laugh at it.

Stiles turned around slowly, wrapping his arms around Derek’s middle and hugging him tightly. “This is so thoughtful.” He sniffed in mock sensitivity, burying his nose in Derek’s sternum. Derek ran a hand through the shorter teen’s hair, his fingernails scratching gently at the back of the shorter teen’s neck.

Derek put his arm around Stiles in a more comfortable position so he could waddling up to the ticket booth, with Stiles still holding on like a limpet, and buy their tickets. The teen behind the counter didn’t even blink at them, staring off to the side at a TV playing Dancing with the Stars hidden under the counter. There was no one in the lobby, which Derek hoped meant they’d have the theater to themselves.

There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation, they both headed to the back of the theater.

Since it was an old movie there weren’t any previews, just a short advertisement for supporting the historic theater and buying popcorn at the stand. The lights were just dimming when Stiles made an exaggerated yawn, his arms stretching high above his head and slowly slumping around Derek’s shoulders.

Derek turned slowly to glare at him.

“What?” Stiles shrugged, his hand twitching on Derek’s shoulder. The teen started to look terrified as Derek never changed his expression, just kept looked at Stiles like he wanted to tear that arm right off. “Dude, you’re starting to scare me.”

Derek reached over and plucked the hand tapping nervously on his shoulder off. Sliding his fingers through Stiles and putting their hands between them.

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek muttered, pulling Stiles closer so their sides touched. Stiles, the big nerd, just cuddled closer, setting his head on Derek shoulder and sighing blissfully.

“German sausage, giant ants, a snuggly werewolf. This has to be the best date a man can ever have.” Stiles whispered into Derek’s ear. Derek snorted, laughing silently.

“Shut up Stiles and watch the movie.” There was an old couple at the front of the theater, but otherwise they were alone. In their dark corner in the back they could talk all they wanted and wouldn’t disturb anyone.

Stiles’ breath tickled against Derek’s neck. “Why don’t you make me.”

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Yanking Stiles towards him, Derek pulled Stiles into his lap. “I thought you’d never ask.” He grabbed the younger teen by his neck and pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw. His teeth nipping at the plump skin of Stiles cheek, licking up until their mouth slotted together. Stiles moaned, hands flailing everywhere and hitting Derek in the side of the head. The werewolf grunted at the impact and kept on kissing. The flavor of the younger teen only made him eager for more.

Finally, Stiles hand’s seemed to settle down, falling in to place around Derek’s shirt lapels. Stiles used the older teen’s clothes to wrench him closer, opening his lips so he could lick into the heat of Derek’s mouth. Tangling their tongues together, the obscene sound of lips smacking was interrupted by the screams from the movie. Flashes of light dances across his vision as Derek’s eye glowing red and the theater darkened around them.

Pulling back gently, Derek left a lingering kiss on the edge of Stiles’ lips.

Slowly, Stiles opened his eyes. His hooded vision made it seem like there was blue fire dancing on Derek’s hair from the projector above them.

“Wow,” Stiles sighed heavily, licking his lips as if searching for a lingering taste.

Derek sat back in his seat, somehow finding the strength to turn back to the movie.

Stiles whined, “Is that it? You just going to leave me hanging like that?” He pulled at Derek’s jacket, trying to get the older teen to turn back towards him. Making odds sounds in the back of his throat until the couple in the front turned around to glare at them.

“Shh, watch the movie.” Derek smirked, slapping Stiles hands away and nudging him over. He was trying to keep his eyes on the ants eating a city scale and not the way Stiles pouted at him. That way led to too much temptation.

A hand slipped down and gripped his thigh. Derek hissed, snatching up Stiles hand and squeezing it in his. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Stiles pleaded, placing a kiss at the edge of Derek’s ear.

“Are you saying you give in?” Derek turned his head towards the other, Stiles swollen lips sliding across his freshly shaven cheek. He shivered at the sensation.

Stiles sucked in a deep breath. “…No?”

They were in close proximity to each other they were breathing the same air, lips teasing and just tantalizingly close enough to touch.

“Then watch the movie.” Derek stared into Stiles eyes, begging him to give in and end this torment. To say right now that he was sorry, that he wanted Derek right now and he would relieve them both. Take Stiles by the hand and lead him outside to the car, drive to a wooded area and make Stiles’ his. All he had to do way say the words.

Stiles blinked. “Okay.” Sitting back and turning to watch the movie. The light from the movies showed his brows were furrowed in either confusion or frustration. Probably both.

Derek groaned, slamming his head back into the seat and adjusting himself. He didn’t care if Stiles saw what he had done to him. Let him know that the affects he was having on the werewolf were successful, and in return he’d know that retribution would be even more horrible.  

 Fuck he was an idiot.

***

Chapter Text

***

After what Derek thought was a rather successful date, the ‘thing’ between him and Stiles had simmered down some. Partly in due fact to Stiles’ dad suddenly wanted to spend time with his son and Derek’s duties to his werewolves and preparing for a full moon in a week. There was enough anxiety between everybody else that whatever was happening between them had been put on hold until things settled down, which Derek greatly appreciated.

So after a few days of talking to Stiles through text alone, Derek found time between assessing the power struggle between Jackson and Scott to visit the human teen. Alone.

Stile saw him walking up the sidewalk from the kitchen, waving the older teen to head upstairs without him while he finished talking to his dad. Derek gave a nod and jumped to the roof, going in through the window so he didn’t disturb the Sherriff’s discussion with his son.

Derek liked Stiles’ room. For a teenage boy he kept the place relatively clean and clutter free (unlike Jackson, where lacrosse equipment and smelly jersey’s covered the floor). The scent of Stiles permeated the whole place, both calming and exciting the beast within Derek. Calming because he knew he could rely on the teen, exciting because he wanted him. It leaned towards either one depending on the situation.

He sat on Stiles’ bed, fingers running down the spines of the books on the teen’s shelf. He thought about grabbing the dictionary, only because Stiles’ spazed out every time he caught Derek’ reading it. Like he couldn’t believe the werewolf knew how to read.

He paused, backtracking to a book that caught his eye. ‘Bend Over: The Complete Guide to Anal Sex for Men’ was wedged in between the school’s Communication textbook and Werewolves: A Field Guide.

“The hell?”

He pulled the book out, knocking the other pile of books to the floor. In the back of his head he noted the sound had probably been heard downstairs but he was a little distracted at the moment. What the hell was Stiles doing with a gay sex guide?

A receipt, stuck to the cover by static, tumbled into his lap.

Stiles has been to an adult sex store in the last few days if the purchases he got recently say anything. Derek boggled at the items bought.

What was the ‘alpha dog’ and why did Stiles need one. Or a prostate vibrator!

There was also the suspicious purchase of 2 boxes of condoms that Derek usually bought for himself (when he got it in his mind he needed to get laid, he usually ended up taking a nap instead) and a large tub of astro-glide.  

Derek looked around, setting the book beside him so he could look for the items in question. Stiles had to have them in his room somewhere. Probably hidden someplace in the hopes a werewolf couldn’t sniff it out.

Stiles didn’t count on how good Derek’s nose could be if he put his mind to it.

He got down on his knees and crawled around, sniffing under the bed and in the closet, he felt like a puppy again, playing hide and seek with his sister’s toys. Only this time the prize was a lot better than a Barbie doll. Oh no, this was a trophy that Derek had to find.

There was an access of pheromones and the stinky smell of plastic in Stiles’ sock drawer. Digging around he found what he was looking for, pulling out a large black plastic sack. The three large ‘X’s’ on the bag was enough that he knew he had discovered what he was looking for. He did a silent fist pump in victory.

The first item he pulled out was the lube and condoms, the brand he liked in his size and a variety pack in what he guessed was Stiles. He dumped those on the bed and got to the big items. The next item was the prostate vibrator, it was strange looking and shaped like a sideways ‘U’. He stared at it cluelessly. How was that suppose to go in? He opened the box and dug out the instructions, skimming down the writing until he got to the diagram.

Oh.

Huh.

That was interesting. He took a moment to think about the mechanics of it. There would be no doubt that Stiles’ wouldn’t enjoy it. It hit every pleasure point in the anal region for the most optimum enjoyment. The prostate and perineum both get a jolt of pulsation, hitting what the instructions called the ‘P’ spot. Derek got shivers thinking about something vibrating against his prostate, the toe inducing delight of it.

He closed the box back up and set that aside also. He totally didn’t blame Stiles for buying that.

Now this ‘alpha dog’ thing was the thing that really concerned him. There was some implications there that he didn’t much appreciate, and as a real alpha he was doing his civic duty by inspecting the toy. Didn’t want the advertising to be false or anything.

He stared at it.

If silicone could talk, he’d ask it what the hell was Stiles thinking buying this? The size and general shape were similar enough to Derek’s own dick (he had to stop a moment to remember if he’d ever been naked around any of the pack-mates who might of gotten a good look. He hadn’t.) so was it just coincidence that the dildo that Stiles bought was comparable to Derek’s penis? Derek knew he had a penis that merit worshiping, but wasn’t something of his size a bit much for Stiles right now? From what he understood you were suppose to work your way up not just start from the top and hope for the best. He would have to do research, find out if there was a dildo starter kit or something.

Having enough of just looking at it and feeling strangely weirded out, Derek opened the box and pulled it out. It was made out of a spongy plastic, flexible but rigid. The details on it was admirable, the veins and cockhead were realistic. Of course it wasn’t perfect though. Derek could find numerous mistakes on it compared to a real cock. It wasn’t warm and fleshy. It smelt like plastic, that clean smell that came from rubber and made his nose itch. It also might have been too stiff.  Taunt so whoever used it could get their use from it, not going flaccid when one was done with it. The major flaw in it though was that it wasn’t soft. Real cocks were like hard steel under a velvety skin, dramatic contrasts to each other but a true work of art. Functioning in perfect harmony for the delight of both the giver and the receiver.

He huffed, clearly not impressed as he held it up to eye level, making sure he got a good look at it under the light.

“Hey Stiles, I just wanted too……..” Scott was half way in the window and frozen in place. “-You know what, I’ll come back later.” The beta werewolf turned around in place, one leg still out on the roof.

Derek looked between the dildo in his hand to Scott’s back. At this point, he had no shame to even feel embarrassed anymore. Stiles had literally made him impervious to any humiliation the world could throw at him. He was numb to any discomfort he might have gotten from this situation.

He sighed, dropping the dildo on the bed with the other treasures. “What did you want Scott?”

Scott’s shoulders hunched around his ears with his back to the room, sitting on the ledge he was almost completely out of the house now.

“I just wanted to see if Stiles wanted to hang out.” Scott squeaked, edging closer and closer out. “I can see he’s busy though so I’ll try back tomorrow.”

Derek massaged his forehead. “Call ahead first.”

Scott slowly peeked over his shoulder, his hand covered most of his eyes except for a sliver between his middle and ring finger. “Dare I ask why?”

The alpha glared.

“Right. Call first.” Scott stood up, shuffling down the roof. “Tell Stiles I stopped by. Actually, don’t tell him. Please, don’t tell him I was here. I beg you. Just forget the last 10 seconds completely. It never happened.” He hopped off the roof, disappearing into the afternoon.

Rolling his eyes, Derek walked over to shut the window and close the curtains. Ten to one, Scott was texting Jackson as this very second, asking what the hell was going on. If the others didn’t already assume Stiles and Derek were dating they most likely would now. Nothing like finding your alpha in your best friend’s room playing with a dildo to crush any aspirations that there wasn’t anything between the two.

Do you have to ask someone before you are officially dating, Derek wondered randomly. Was it just assumed that after going out, then holding hands and making out, and discovering sex toys in each other’s room (although, Stiles would have to hunt to find Derek’s) that they were together? He should probably clear that up with Stiles before it was too late. They had gone on dates, but were they ‘together’, as an item?

He turned to look down at the stuff on the bed. There were still a few novelty items in the bag. Just goofy toys and massage oils that wasn’t as important as these main items.

Crossing his arms he looked hard at each item. Trying to connect the thought that Stiles had when he bought them. Was it a message? A warning? Or even just an actual toy for Stiles’ enjoyment? Knowing Stiles and his dramatics it was probably all three.

He heard someone heading up the stairs, the feet were light and quick, meaning it was Stiles.

Good.

“Sorry about that, he just wanted to talk about school.” Stiles barged in, whispering quietly since his dad was still downstairs and shutting the door behind him. “He was asking about-”

Derek turned to grin at him.

“A-about….what? Why are you looking at me like that?” Stiles looked around the room in confusion, spotting the mess Derek had made in his search. “What happened to my room?”

“Stiles,” Derek just smiled pleasantly at him. He knew his body blocked Stiles’ view of the pile on the bed. “Have you been feeling tense lately?”

“Uh-what?” Stiles stared at him, hands going to his hips as he raised an eyebrow at the older teen. He thought Derek had finally broken down.

Derek shrugged casually. “I’m just asking if you’re tense, like if you want a massage or something.”

“Are you offering?” Stiles voice went high. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well, seeing as you have some oil,” Derek reached into the bag behind him and pulled out some coconut body oil. “I thought I’d offer since you went through all the trouble to buy it.”

Stiles flushed red. Derek could actually see as the blush ran up Stiles neck and to the top of his head. It was like watching it happen in slow motion.

“Y-you-my stuff-bought-” Stiles stuttered, watching in horror as Derek leveled the dildo at him. “Lydia recommended it!” He squeaked, throwing his friend under the bus. In all reality it was her fault. She had suggested it, and even came up with a good argument why buying the toys would be a good idea. He had just nodded and went along with it, completely in a trance at the cornucopia of porn around him.

Derek fisted the plastic flesh, running his hand slowly up the toy. “You know, I don’t blame you for wanting to…practice. I just worry it might be too large for you to handle and a relaxing massage might help you accept this into your tight body. Are you sure you don’t want to start with something smaller?” Derek emphasized each word with a twist of his wrist around the dildo.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his dry throat, trying to figure out how to breathe again. Derek had found his sex toys. Before he even got a chance to use them!

“I, uh, can explain.”

“What’s to explain,” Derek said magnanimously. “I totally understand.”

“You do!”

“Of course. I get that you’re scared of the real thing.”

“Excuse me!”

Derek continued on. “Starting with a toy is completely natural. My cock is pretty intimidating and I don’t want to frighten you by whipping it out and surprising you the first time. Working your way up to it is always the best plan. I have to say though that this vibrator thing looks interesting.” Derek picked up the box, moving it around like he was reading the back of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Stiles stumble back against the door.

Stiles gapped at him. “You want to have sex?”

“Didn’t we already discuss this?” Derek leered, taking in Stiles hands fisted at his thighs. The teen was about to combust.

“I think so, but my brain has currently overloaded so I have no idea. I’m pretty sure I can’t remember my name at this point.” Stiles flailed a bit, if his hair was long enough he’d be tugging on it.

Derek smirked. “As long as you remember mine, that’s all that matters.”

“This is surreal.” Stiles moaned. “How and why are you giving me permission to masturbate?”

“It’s not permission. More like a seal of approval.” Derek tossed both toys back onto the bed. He was starting to imagine Stiles using the toys, spread out on his bed and moaning as he pressed the fake cock into him, calling out Derek’s name. His finger slicked up as he pushed his long finger inside himself, getting use to the feeling. Biting into his pillow at night as the prostate vibrator throbbed against that spot.   

He had to leave before he gave in.

But not before leaving with a parting shot. “Also, I can’t fault you for having your own sex toys.”

“Wait-does that mean you have sex toys!” Stiles almost crawled across the floor to beg Derek to tell him what he had. The idea that stiff-upper-lip Derek maybe had a dildo or some other kind of erotic toy was just mindboggling. He couldn’t see it happening. Just the image of the werewolf walking into one of those stores made him hard.

He could imagine Derek looking at leather collars, maybe testing out a whip.

Stiles whimpered.

“I need to go.” Derek looked around the room, he’d leave the mess he made for Stiles to clean up. “I just wanted to stop by and remind you about tomorrow.”

Stiles shook himself, trying to hear what the older teen was saying and not have his brain melt out his ears at his imagination. “What?”

“Pack meeting tomorrow. Ask Scott about it.” Derek smirked, opening the window and teasingly bending over the rim. “He stopped by also, but I told him to call you tomorrow since you were occupied.”

It took Stiles a minute to figure out that meant Scott had stopped by while Derek was in his room discovering his ‘stash’. That was all the time Derek needed to slip out.

***

Chapter Text

***

Derek hears arguing in the kitchen before he even pulls up the drive. He’s not really concerned that Lydia and Stiles are over at his house while he isn’t there-the Hale mansion is for pack use now- it’s just what he’s hearing that has him worried.

“-like that kind of thing.”

“Not me-wait! No!”

Followed by a ripping noise like clothes being torn off. Derek pauses half way out of his car, cheesecake in hand.

“-Oh God-hell I’m wearing-”

“Relax-men-sandwich.”

Derek walked slowly up to the house, rather perturbed by what he was listening to. Lydia must have heard him on the porch because she met him at the door, smoothing out her skirt and smiling earnestly up at him.

“Nice day?”

Derek sniffs the air. Did he smell steak? “Yeah it was. What are you and Stiles up to?” He tried to look around the shorter teenage and get a view of his kitchen but couldn’t see anything because of an exposed beam.

“Nothing!” Lydia flutters her eyelashes at him. “We just thought we’d do something nice for you today, you know, since you’re always doing nice things for us.”

Stiles huffs somewhere in the kitchen.

“Right.” Derek agrees uneasily. This had trap written all over it. “So why are only you two over and not the others?”

“Scott and Allison are on a date. I think. Jackson and Danny are out playing miniature golf or something, so it’s just me and Stiles. And who says everyone needs to be here to show our gratitude as a group? Do you not appreciate the effort we’re going through to be nice to you?” Lydia puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. Derek takes a step back. This is why he doesn’t date women, they can turn the situation around on its head and somehow make you into the bad guy. He was just asking a valid question.

“No. Just curious.” He’s not going to be scared of her. He’s an alpha werewolf, she’s still human-mostly. Who cares if he maybe clutches his boxed cake closer to him. He just doesn’t want it to somehow get infected with her moodiness.

Lydia eyes him up and down, wrinkling her nose up at his scuffed boots. “Where have you been?”

“Out.”

“What’s that in your hand?”

Derek sighs. “Why the third degree? This is my house and I don’t like being kept from dinner.” He motions over her shoulder where he can smell a feast being cooked inside. If Stiles had made half of what he smells, he’s proposing to him right there. His daddy always said if he could find someone with a sense of humor and a magic touch in the kitchen, they were a keeper. This was after he almost blew up the stove making grill-cheese sandwiches when he was 9. His family rallied around the notion that each of their children should find someone to fill in for their flaws. To find somebody to match them perfectly no matter the species. To say Derek couldn’t boil water to make Ramen noodles was a understatement, if it wasn’t for takeout or the microwave he would have been a goner long ago.

Derek didn’t like the implication that he didn’t have a sense of humor though. That wasn’t fair.

“Oh, well…” Lydia leaned to the side to look into the kitchen. Whatever she saw must have been satisfactory because she whirled back to Derek with a smile back on her face. “I’m glad you’re hungry. I have to go home and I feel so bad about leaving you two alone to eat but I really must be heading out.”

Derek stared at her unimpressed. Yeah, he didn’t believe that lie for a second. He didn’t even have to use any werewolf tricks to check, it was plain as day.

“Really.”

Lydia picked up her purse and a large bag filled with clothes. “Yeah, sorry. You two have fun though.” She pecks his cheek as she walks past, hips swaying as she heads to Stiles’ jeep.

Derek watches her leave, wondering if Stiles’ knows she just stole his car as collateral for whatever they have planned. Taking a deep breath of fresh woodsy air, Derek heads inside. The fumes from the kitchen are almost overwhelming.  Walking into the house, Derek stops right outside the door to the kitchen, finally getting a view inside.

Stiles is watching him right back, staring at him from the other side of the kitchen island.

“Hey,” He set’s the cheesecake on the table. There are already a couple of things there: mashed potatoes with fried onion bits on top, mac-n-cheese, green beans. There was a sautéed flank steak still on the stove, Stiles back to it. “This is nice.”

Stiles flushed. “Thanks.” He fiddled with the edges of the green apron he was wearing.

“You need any help?” Derek inquired, wondering why Stiles was acting so shy. After yesterday and the last week, there wasn’t anything to be ashamed of between them anymore. Derek had discovered the other teen’s sex toys. Why would he be embarrassed about cooking Derek dinner?

“N-no, I got it. Have a seat, I’ll bring everything to you.” Stiles made sure never to turn his back on Derek, always keeping an eye on him as he shuffled around the room.

Derek took a seat at the table, opening the box with the cheesecake and setting it out. He hadn’t even known why he bought the cake, only that he’d been driving down the main street and saw the bakery and desired something sweet. Maybe it was a werewolf craving, stopping mid-afternoon right before they closed, he’d bought it spur of the moment. It reminded him of New York, his sister taking him to Junior’s and them sitting by the window watching people walk past as they shared a piece.

Stiles peeked at him from over the counter. “What’s that?”

“Cheesecake from Bistro Bay.” Derek said.

“Mmm,” Stiles licked his lips. “I like their cakes.”

Derek nodded, setting things out on the table and sitting down to wait for the other teen. Stiles was just finishing the meat, setting it on a plate and standing right at the edge of island.

“What’s wrong?” Derek took a drink of sweet tea, watching Stiles’ nervously shift on his feet.

Stiles face turned red. He took a slow step out from behind the furniture, pale legs coming out in display from his bare feet to thigh. Stiles was wearing daisy dukes, ripped up as far as they could go without actually being made into underwear, showing off miles of skin and lean muscles.

Besides an apron, that was the only thing he wore.

 Derek choked. Pounding his fist against his chest, he had to turn away from Stiles or risk dying from loss of breath.

Stiles was sitting down across from him by the time Derek finally caught his breath. “What are you wearing? Are you trying to kill me?”

Stiles fiddled with his silverware, looking down at his plate and not at Derek’s outrageous expression. He looked self-conscious and half way uncomfortable sitting there waiting for Derek to come out of his shock. 

“Stiles?” Derek gapped, actually leaning over to look under the table to double check that he’d seen what he thought he had. Stiles crossed his legs, only flaunting more skin instead of hiding it.

“Derek, please.” Stiles hissed, tugging at the corners of the apron to cover his legs. Derek caught a flash of pink rosebud nipples as the green cloth was pulled down. It seemed Stiles’ blush really did go farther down.

“Seriously, what are you wearing?”

“Y-you don’t like it?” Stiles muttered. He anxiously played with the fraying hem of his clothes, winding an unraveled thread around his finger.

“Uh…” Derek blinked in confusion. How exactly should he answer that? He wasn’t upset per say, but it was rather odd to have a nice dinner while half the party was in denim hot pants only.

“Lydia said,” Stiles swallowed loudly. “She said that guys like this, coming home to find their girlfriend-or boyfriend- naked in an apron cooking.”

“Seems unsanitary.” Derek said blankly. He really hoped Stiles hadn’t cooked the whole meal naked, with Lydia in the room watching. That would be awkward.

Stiles perked up. “Yeah, that’s what I said, so I was able to negotiate down to shorts at least. Still, it’s not like I have a burning fantasy to come home to find you making me a sandwich while in the buff. I just have this image of my dad getting off early and somehow finding you first and it just goes downhill from there, and there are guns involved and sensitive bits getting potentially damaged, and it really doesn’t sound as nice as she made it out to be.”

Derek winced at the idea of the sheriff’s gun anywhere near his ‘bits’. “Thanks Stiles.” He said sarcastically. “Why don’t you go change and we can eat.”

Stiles nibbled at his bottom lip. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“She took my clothes. All I have left are these shorts she left me and there are some strategic holes in them.”

Derek’s brain short circuited right then. It took him a long minute to reboot and come back online. “I…think I have some spare clothes upstairs.” Stiles looked so uncomfortable that he’d be a gentleman, although he really didn’t want to offer them now.

Stiles looks at him from under his lashes, the sole representative of virtuous purity. “Do you mind getting them for me? I don’t want to walk around like this.”

“Sure,” Derek nodded dumbly. He took off upstairs to his old bedroom, finding an old bag of clothes he brought when he first moved back to Beacon Hill. There was a pair of gym pants and an old superman t-shirt. They might be a little big of the smaller teen but they would do. Almost anything would be better than what Stiles was currently wearing.

At least, you know, out of the bedroom. Derek had plans to keep those shorts hidden until this whole game thing was over before busting them out again to beg Stiles to wear for him. He wanted to assess where exactly these ‘strategic holes’ were.

“Thanks,” Stiles’ face was a permanent red when he took the clothes, walking backwards to the spare bathroom to change. Derek was kind of disappointed in himself for not noticing before how naked Stiles looked. With only the tiny shorts on, all you could see was the apron and skin from the front. An expanse of pale, smooth skin as far as the eye could see.

Stiles came back out tying the drawstrings to the grey pants. They seemed to fit at least, unlike the t-shirt that was too broad for the human, leaving Stiles’ upper body swimming in blue fabric. “That’s better.” Stiles grinned at him, taking his seat back at the table and digging in.

Derek was too caught up in the fact that Stiles was now wearing his clothes.

Stiles smelt like him. Really, like him.

Like, he could be his mate, smell.

Jesus, Derek had a boner at the dinner table over a t-shirt and not the fact that Stiles had cooked him a steak in little more than an apron. How could life be so cruel? Derek slowly went back to eating, never taking his eyes off Stiles. Stiles’ didn’t seem to mind, focused on stuffing his face and looking starry eyed at the cheesecake.

“This is really good. Where did you learn to cook?” Derek asked, tasting the mashed potatoes.

Stiles smiled at him. “My mom. I use to watch her cook all the time, it was our thing. She’d let me have the leftover scraps to make my own experimental foods, and then she’d force dad to eat it. It was great, because if dad wanted to get to her meal he’d have to go through mine first. I was only like 8 or 9, so I could never make anything all that tasty to begin with and he’d like literally turn green just looking at it. It wasn’t until after she died that I started to cook like her, she left me all her cookbooks.”

Derek didn’t know what to say to that. He knew that Stiles’ mom had passed away, he didn’t know how or when, only that in some ways it still affected the teen. A confession like that deserved something in return.

“I can’t cook to save my life.” He admitted. “Once for mother’s day Laura and I decided to make our mom a chocolate chip cake. Yeah, I don’t know, we just knew she liked chocolate chip cookies but Laura wanted to make a cake so we just combined them. It didn’t work out too well. For some reason, I don’t even remember why now, I put the batter in the microwave to heat it up and all the chocolate chips melted so it turned brown. Laura got mad at me, she thought it still might have been salvageable so we just added more chips and stuffed it in the oven.”

Stiles was smothering a laugh, eyes alight in amusement.  

Derek continued. “This house has gone through 3 ovens because of me. It’s like my curse, not being able to cook. Laura’s taught me to make rice crispy treats 5 times because I still somehow mess them up. They’re supposed to be the easiest thing in the world to make.”

“Yeah, it’s like butter, marshmallows, and Rice Crispi’s.” Stiles giggled, setting his fork down. “It takes 5 minutes to make.”

“No they’re not.” Derek argued. He was living proof that they weren’t. He was sure there were Facebook picture’s as evidence. “I follow the instructions every time and still I mess them up.”

Stiles shook his head at him. “Okay, I believe you. If you ever need helping cooking just ask me, I’ll come over.”

Derek watched Stiles cut up his meat, the teen looked relaxed. There was something in the way that Stiles held his knife that was just so elegant. He was poised in a setting where the walls around them were half burnt, talking about their dead relatives and smiling at the memories of happier times. Derek had never believed it was possible to be in this house and talk about his family and not feel angry or bitter at the injustice of their death. And yet, here he was…

He felt something blossom in his chest, stealing his breath away for a second.

“Mm,” Stiles cleared his plate. “Can I have a piece of cake?”

“Huh, oh, yeah.” Derek reached over, moving the cake between them. “Do you need me to cut it?”

“Please,” Stiles said, the collar of the shirt loose around his neck, showing off his collarbone. Derek licked his lips, trying not to stare at Stiles.

Derek cut a large slice for the younger teen, knowing how his appetite was. He went ahead and cut himself one also, since we was almost finished with his meal and would want one in a second anyhow. The cake was thick and creamy, cutting through it was just like butter. He couldn’t wait for a taste.

“Thanks,” Stiles replied, sitting back in his seat across from Derek and digging in. He moaned lewdly at the first bite, hollowing his cheeks around the fork in his mouth. “This is divine. Mrs. Bayton makes the best cheesecakes, she should go pro.”

Derek snorted a laugh. “A pro cheesecake-er?”

“Of course,” Stiles grinned at him. “You think she’d give me her recipe if I asked?”

“I don’t know, we can go by tomorrow and ask.” Already making plans in his schedule to pick up Stiles and take him by the Bistro. He’s going to have to buy a cake for the others anyways, once they hear from Lydia that he brought a cheesecake home and only Stiles and he ate it. It seriously is like having children, whining and begging for things from him when they are perfectly capable of buying things for themselves.

“That will be nice.” Stiles is watching him, brown eyes warm as he slowly eats the last bite.

Derek smiles back.

***

Chapter Text

***

“I don’t see why we are the ones that have to do this.” Stiles grumps, reaching up to grab the shirt hanging above his head.

“Because everyone else is naked.” Derek said, glaring towards the water.

After a lovely dinner alone with Stiles, Derek had heard the others howling for help. Both of them had quickly dropped everything to aid them. Rushing out they had headed in the directions of the call and ended up finding 4 bobbing heads in the water. Sadly, still attached to the rest of their body.

At least for now.

It seemed the rest of the pack (minus Lydia) had all gone skinny dipping together at the lake, except now there was a girl scout troop camping troop right on the shore and they couldn’t get out or risk being attacked by a horde of angry mothers and screaming children.

Stiles sighed, throwing Jackson pants into the pile they had amassed so far. “Problem.”

“What?” Derek looked over at Stiles, who was pointing up at something hanging from a branch higher up.

“Allison’s bra.”

“How’d it get up there?” Derek walked over to stand next to the younger teen. They were going to have trouble getting that item down. It hung at the very edge of the tree, in the middle of a clearing high enough that neither of them could get it from jumping or climbing the tree.

“I’d rather not know,” Stiles smirked at him. They both had an idea that Scott was somehow involved.

“Come on I’ll give you a lift up.” Derek crouched down on his knees, cupping his hands together so Stiles could step on them. The other teen balanced precariously on Derek’s wide shoulders, holding on tightly as Derek lifted him up.

“Almost…got it!” Stiles’ fingertips barely touched the strap, he had to stretch as high up as he could to get it, leaving his well-being in Derek’s capable hands.

Stiles yanked on the bra hard and it finally comes loose, breaking the branch along with it. He tries to cover his head from falling debris and ends up getting pinged in the arm by the thick limb, losing his balance and swaying unsteadily to the side.

“Stiles!”

Derek’s hands disappear out from under him and Stiles squawks, flailing his arms as he topples over. Then both of Derek’s hands are on him again, catching him midair.

“Shit.”

Derek holds Stiles up against his body, large hands cradling the younger teen’s ass as Stiles’ legs go around his waist clinging tightly. Stiles arms clamp around Derek’s neck, clutching at him strongly as he pants into the werewolf’s dark hair, Derek’s nose is pressed into his sternum.

“You okay?” Derek’s voice is muffled against his chest.

Stiles nods, the bra still gripped securely in his trembling hand. He hadn’t expected that. For a second there he had doubted if Derek would catch him or not. Had it been someone like Jackson he probably would have let Stiles fall, just for a good laugh.

Derek lets Stiles down gently, hands still holding him as he allows Stiles to put his feet on the ground. “You get hit?”

“Yeah, just a bruise. I’ll heal.” Stiles sighs loudly in relief.

Derek growls, pulling Stiles even closer to him so he can nuzzle at the shorter teen’s neck. “We should just leave them out there. Teach them a lesson for doing dumb shit. How do these things always happen to them?”

“They’ll freeze if we leave them,” Stiles tries to reassure Derek. “And it’s not like your any better. Remember last month with the wild turkey?” As much as Stiles finds it frustrating sometimes picking up after the others, he’s happy they can rely on him. Besides his dad, Stiles had never had anyone to take care of after his mom died. He’s a take-care-of kind of guy. It wasn’t until Scott got bitten that things had changed.

Derek held Stile’s arm gently as he looked it over, trying to find any cuts or swelling. Not finding anything he slides his hand down into Stiles, holding his hand as they continued gathering the rest of the clothes. Stiles stared blankly at him in the moonlight, oddly at ease with Derek’s protective behavior.

“You done yet?” Scott yells from the shore, a group of campers singing Kumbaya glare at him for interrupting their song.

“Almost,” Stiles yells back. He’s pulling a pair of orange briefs out of a blackberry bush, hoping there aren’t any prickles in it.

“Idiots,” Derek grumbles, pulling Stiles along after him into the brush. “Who goes skinny dipping in the middle of the day?”

Stiles glances up at him, trying not to smirk. “I don’t know, it doesn’t sound too bad.”

Derek quickly looks him over. “In a public park?”

“Okay, not a public park. Maybe, if someone had a private lake on their property.” Stiles smiles deviously at the werewolf. He knew for a fact that there was a lake farther back in the Hale property, hidden back in the woods for their private use. The police had dredged it while looking for the other half of Laura’s body.

Derek grunted, ignoring Stiles to yank a sweater off a tree limb. He tossed it at Stiles to hold.

Gathering as much clothes together as they could, Stiles heads back to the lake to separate them. The boys are closest to the shore, while Allison wades out neck deep in the water.

“I’ll take Allison’s,” Scott offers, pulling the panties and bra along with his own t-shirt out of the pile. He slips on his own boxers and swims back out.

“Ugh, I’m going to be wet.” Jackson mutters, taking some boxer briefs and wiggling into them. Danny smiles brightly at Stiles as he puts on the orange briefs, wading out onto land with Jackson and taking the rest of his clothes from Stiles.

“The water won’t hurt you, you’re not a cat.” Scott jokes, helping Allison out and hiding her from the other boy’s eyes. Allison spots Stiles and smiles ruefully at him, she knew about the plan for this afternoon and felt bad about interrupting it.

“Shut it McCall.” Jackson growls back. Both their hackles start to rise as tempers flare, until a twig breaks and they both shrink in on themselves as they turn to look at their alpha.

“I’d ask what possessed you to think skinny dipping was a good idea but truthfully, I don’t want to know.” Derek stands at the edge of the woods, hands on his hips and glaring with red eyes. He’s still rather upset about the interrupted meal. They had been in the middle of washing dishes and talking about watching a movie when the howls had broken up the pleasant atmosphere, ruining all of Derek’s plans to slowly seduce Stiles into giving in. He’s somewhat grumpy at everyone right now.

“Just some fun of our own.” Danny is really chipper about the whole situation. Jackson and he had only come across Allison and Scott by chance, heading over to the Hale mansion to bug Derek because they were bored when they spotted Allison’s car. They had sat on the beach for 10 minutes heckling the two before stripping and joining them. He had been having a blast playing in the water with two werewolves; they could toss you around like you were a kid again.

Derek doesn’t look impressed with his answer though, so Danny just shrugs.

“We’ll head back to the mansion, there’s a dryer downstairs that still works and we can use that.” Stiles offers, herding everybody towards the road. Since Derek and Stiles had run there, they would have to ride with the others in their cars. Stiles automatically heads over with Scott to Allison’s car, while Derek follows Jackson.

“Where you going?” Derek asks, reaching over to grab Stiles’ hand again.

Stiles blinks at him. “With Scott and Allison, there’s more room.” 

“Come on, Danny can ride with them. You’re with me.”

Danny looks surprised to be kicked out of the car, but gracefully concedes and heads over to Allison’s without any fuss. Derek sits in the passenger seat of the Porsche, as Jackson starts up the car.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Stiles asks. Jackson new car only has two seats.

Derek pats his lap, smirking up at Stiles in glee. Jackson groans, banging his head on the steering wheel in dismay.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles settles on the older teens lap, making sure to plop down in the most uncomfortable manner possible. Thankfully the trip will be short, only a mile or two down the road.

 Grunting, Derek winds his arms around Stiles’ middle, pulling him snuggly back against his chest. One hand presses against Stiles’ beating heart and his chin settles on Stiles’ shoulder. The younger teen fit perfectly onto his lap, just the right size to hold him and still have the ability to move around.

Stiles hands held onto his wrist, wiggling back into Derek’s crotch. He earns a grunt from the alpha, who pinches Stiles side in retaliation.

“Stop wiggling or you’ll regret it.” Derek warns, adjusting enough where Stiles should feel Derek’s erection against his rump. He has the startling realization that Stiles isn’t wearing any underwear.

“You two are sickening.” Jackson scathes, slamming on the accelerator and yanking his passengers around. He even rolls down the window, leaning half out of it to take a deep breath of air. Stiles blushes in embarrassment, he knows the werewolves can smell pheromones and stuff so he can imagine what Jackson must smell stuck in a car with them.

“Whittemore.” Derek growls sternly, holding onto Stiles more tightly so he doesn’t slam his head against the windshield.

“No, I’m serious. If this was like some weird werewolf courting thing than that’s understandable, but it’s not! All it is, is some long drawn-out foreplay between you two. It doesn’t make sense, just fuck already and stop torturing the rest of us. McCall’s about to have an aneurism and I’m tired to being mildly attracted to Stilinski because my alpha is sending out all theses ‘feelings’ and I just can’t help intercepting them.”

Stiles and Derek gape at him. Jackson just keeps on digging his grave deeper.

“All this sexual tension isn’t healthy!” Jackson flails, swerving again. “I mean, to each their own. If you want to have blue balls for a month that’s your own thing, but you both have to remember this is a pack. That shit affects us all. I haven’t beaten off this much since puberty and it’s disgusting, all because Stiles is being a tease.”

Derek feels his claws lengthening and his canines sharpening, the wolf howling in rage to tear the competition apart. Stiles squeezes his wrist tightly, reminding Derek of his precious cargo and who might be injured if he reached over and tore the beta’s head off right this second. He took a calming breath, Stiles scent mixed in with that of his shirts soothing the beast a little, no longer after blood.

Of course just because he wasn’t doing anything now, didn’t mean he wasn’t taking Jackson out back and beating the shit out of him the second he had the chance.

“Jackson,” Stiles says, his tone like steel. “Shut the hell up.”

“But--”

“I’m serious, shut up now.” Stiles commands, his voice making the orders clear. Derek is surprised to watch Jackson jaw click shut, his eyes flutter in shock as he actually listens to Stiles. The wolf in Derek rumbles a little, happy that his pack-mates are listening to Stiles and pleased to have found someone worthy to be his mate.

The rest of the trip is blessedly short, quiet, and unsurprisingly awkward. Jackson bales from the car the second he parks it, heading inside and disappearing from view as the others watch in bewilderment. Derek is going to sniff him out the second he can, the beta wasn’t getting away from his wrath just because he had calmed down some.

Stiles slumps back against him, knocking his head against Derek’s. “Is it really affecting the other’s that badly?”

“No,” Derek’s voice is deep, almost a growl as he gets himself under control. “He’s just being a sensitive prick.”

“Does your attraction really make them attracted to me? I need to know if I’m turning Scott on if we’re hanging out and I suddenly think of you.” Stiles sounds depressed now, miserable at the thought of doing something unconsciously discomfiting to his best friend. In truth though, if it was, he didn’t know what he would do about it.

Derek shifts, moving Stiles so he could look at him in the eyes. “It doesn’t. They are sensitive to my emotions, but it doesn’t force them to feel the same way. Jackson is using our attraction to each other as an excuse, he doesn’t want to admit that he find’s your company pleasing. As a friend.”

Stiles gives Derek a watery smile, eyes shining brightly in the dark. “So he’s just finally falling for my charms. Our ‘thing’ isn’t harming them in any way?”

“No,” Derek presses a kiss to Stiles’ lips, closed mouth. “The pack dynamic is changing so everyone’s going to be uncomfortable until they get use to it.”

“Oh?” Stiles pulled back, looking curious. “So I’m no longer the omega of the pack?”

Derek huffs. “Stiles, you were never an omega.”

“Really? Than what am I?”

“You were a beta.”

“Now?” Stiles smiles excitedly, running a hand through Derek’s hair and down his neck. Derek catches his hand and places a kiss on his palm, smiling against the soft skin.

“Come on, let’s get out.” Derek opens the door, ignoring Stiles wheedling for an answer. He pats Stiles butt, pushing him forward so he can get out.

“Derek…” Stiles whines, jerking on Derek’s sleeve in frustration.

“What? We got dishes to finish and children to clean up after.”

Stiles growls in the back of his throat, stomping off in an exaggerated huff. Derek just follows at a more leisurely pace, whistling a happy tune.

***

Chapter Text

***

The boys stomped into Derek’s apartment loudly, dropping things at the door and piling onto the couch in a sweaty heap.

“Kill me.” Scott whined, throwing his legs up on the coffee table and leaning against Stiles.

“Me first,” Stiles said. He was stuck in the middle of the two beta wolves, sinking between the couch cushions.

“Wimps,” Jackson tried not to pant loudly, and failed. His arm was thrown around the back of the couch, splayed out half on top of the other two. 

Derek came out of the kitchen, in the middle of drying a coffee cup. “Rough practice?” He thought it was bizarre that they had lacrosse practice in the middle of summer, but their coach warned them that they had to stay in shape to stay first string. Poor Stiles, it wasn’t even mandatory for him to be there, but he went anyways. Derek had rather hoped that Stiles would give it up and maybe just come over here and spend that time doing something… productive.

Jackson tried to look tough, “Nothing worse than usual.”

Stiles made a noise like a dying killer whale.

“Okay, it might have been pretty bad.”

“You two suck,” Stiles muttered, “In a few minutes your werewolf powers will kick in and you’ll be right as rain. I on the other hand have hours of agonizing soreness to look forward to.” 

“Guys,” Danny, who Derek hadn’t noticed at first because he was face-planted on the floor in front of the couch, rolled painfully over to glare at the other three teenagers. “Don’t disturb me. I’m trying to become one with the carpet here and I can’t do that if you guys are only reminding me of the physical pain I’m experiencing right now.”

Jackson rolled off the couch and onto the taller teen, starting a wrestling match between the two.

“Ugh, how can you move?” Stiles moaned, spreading out on Jackson’s vacated spot, Scott curling up next to him. They were like two little puppies, snuggling together on the soft leather couch, whining and licking their wounds. Figuratively- about the licking. Derek would have something to say if Scott’s tongue got anywhere near Stiles.

“I think it hurts to breath.” Scott groaned, hand on his chest like he was feeling for an old wound.

“That’s because Jackson broke your ribs twice scoring a goal?” Stiles reminded him.

Derek rolled his eyes at his pack. This is what he gets to taking in a group of teenagers. They barge into his home like they own the place and just make a mess everywhere. Sometimes he wished he could legitimately ground them.

He got them all a water bottle before someone passed out. Scott and Jackson were quickly regaining their strength and energy, while Danny and Stiles just seemed to melt into the furniture even more. Stiles moaning because Derek wouldn’t feed him grapes like he was a Greek God or something, lounging half on the armrest and flailing at Derek to bring him food.

“Get your own food, you know where the kitchen is.” Derek said, moving Stiles head so he could sit down. The younger teen just scooted farther up the couch until he could put his head in Derek’s lap, Scott still cuddled around his middle.

“I would need legs to walk. I don’t have those.”

“You’re such a baby.”

“Nu-uh.” Stiles smiled at him, rubbing his head against Derek’s hip. “You know, I feel like I want a banana instead.”

“And that’s my queue to leave.” Scott hopped off quickly, wrinkling his nose up at them. He headed into the kitchen where Jackson was digging through Derek’s fridge. Danny was dead to the world on the floor, his heart beat slow enough he could be asleep.

“They at it again?” The other beta asked.

“Yeah.” Scott shifted around, trying to grab at something over Jackson shoulder, a small tug of war ensued over a pudding cup. “One second it’s all normal and then ‘BAM!’, a nuclear bomb of potentially dangerous sexual pheromones and I’m in the middle of it getting brain poison.”

“Ugh,” Jackson peeked over the door at them. “Whatever you do don’t say anything to Derek about it.”

Scott cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I will rip your throat out!” Derek hollered at them. Seriously, did they not know he could hear them or were they being obtrusive on purpose. Stiles pinched his side, making a cute frowny face at him.

“Leave them alone.”

Derek huffed, reaching over for the remote control on the coffee table and turning the TV on. Stiles made noises whenever he stopped at a sports or news station so he had to settle for a compromise and ended up on the History Channel and watching something about Dinosaurs instead.

“Who do you think would win: A werewolf or a velociraptor?”

Derek glared at Stiles.

“Raptor.” Danny mumbled into the carpet.

“No way,” Jackson hollered, skirting the edge of the living room. “Werewolves. We can heal they can’t. Easy win. Though I’d shit my pants if a dinosaur popped out of nowhere and attacked us.” Both Scott and he refused to come into the room with Derek as long as Stiles was there with him. Not that they were against them dating, just that it made their wolves twitchy. As it was Jackson had to fight the urge to roll over on his back and ask for a belly-rub from Stiles. How humiliating would it be if he did that in front of the others.

“Point.” Stiles conceded.

Derek settled back into the couch, enjoying the easy atmosphere and security that came with having his pack around him. It was also relaxing just to hang out and not have to worry about attacks or territory disputes, to just act young again and carefree. He listened to Stiles’ heart beat and let himself be lulled into a calm, comforting frame of mind.

Then Stiles had to go and ruin it.

“Can I borrow your shower?” Stiles looked up at him, poking Derek in the stomach, his finger wiggling into Derek’s bellybutton and making him squirm.

“What for?” He slapped Stiles’ hand away.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “To take a shower. I’m sweaty and dirty and sore and a hot bath will do me wonders.”

“Fine,” Derek grunted, heaving Stiles off of him. Once Stiles disappeared upstairs, Scott and Jackson were quick to take his spot (on the couch, not on Derek’s lap).

Scott looked anywhere but at his alpha, finding the ceiling absolutely fascinating. “So…you and Stiles?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then.”

And that was the end of that.

***

“Stiles?” Derek pushed the door to his bedroom open, spotting the teen laying face down on his bed. Stiles had finished his shower half an hour ago but hadn’t reappeared downstairs since. Derek had gone to investigate while Jackson helped Danny make sandwiches for everyone.

“Uggh.”

Derek sat down on the edge of the mattress, taking in the glowing pale skin and graceful arch of Stiles’ back. He was wearing a pair of Derek’s gym shorts and nothing else. He found it downright mesmerizing to see Stiles in his clothes. It was another statement of his link to the human.

“You need some Tylenol?”

“I need a time machine. So I can go back in time and ask myself if joining the team would really be worth all this pain.” Stiles muttered into Derek pillow, moving his head so he could see Derek out of the corner of his eyes. He looked exhausted. Derek glanced over him, taking in the stiff set of Stiles back and rigid arrangement over his bed.

He didn’t even really think about it, just reached over and kneaded his thumb into Stiles’ bare shoulder. Pressing into the tense muscle there and loosening the obvious knot. Stiles moaned, clenching his butt cheeks together as he moved up into the pressure, shifting his chest forward and arching into the contact.

“Oh my gawd,” Stiles groaned. “Derek…”

Stiles whimpered, stretching out under Derek so the older teen would have more room. Derek wasn’t a professional or anything, but the feel of Derek’s hands on him as he rubbed the kinks out of Stiles’ body was 100 times better than even some certified masseuse. Using his strength to unknot any tension in the muscles of Stiles’ back and shoulders, the werewolves’ body was hot over his own, palms leaking heat into Stiles’ stiff body like a radiator.

“Feel better?” Derek said softly.

Stiles bit his lip trying not to moan noisily. “Y-yeah.”

Derek worked from his shoulders down his back, fingers tracing down Stiles spine until his hand spread out onto the human’s hips, thumbs circling a knot of tension there. Stiles couldn’t help but wiggle, his dick already half hard from Derek’s proximity and now he was touching him! Certain parts of Stiles’ anatomy were big fans of Derek, and now it was like meeting their idol in person, screaming at Stiles to do something to get Derek to touch him more. But he could sense Derek pause, looking down at Stiles and thinking hard, fingers dancing around the elastic of his shorts.

Panting appreciatively, Stiles glances over his shoulder and asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Derek says quickly. He goes back to rubbing Stiles down (not in the way he really wants, but beggars can’t be choosers), skipping over his shorts completely and working down Stiles’ legs, much to Stiles ire. Stiles’ calf muscles are decidedly stiff but Derek has him melting into a pile of goo in no time.

He massages him silently, kneeling over Stiles and trying valiantly to ignore the moaning and withering mess he’s making Stiles into. It isn’t until Derek pressing his thumb into the instep of Stiles’ foot that the younger teen squeaks and trembles violently, trying to pull away as Derek holds onto his ankle.

Derek sits back in surprise, blinking down at Stiles and wondering if he hurt him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just, I dunno- sensitive I guess.” Stiles flexes his toes. Reluctantly he turns around, knowing that Derek will be able to see the tent in his pants.

He does, smirking at Stiles with a satisfied glow in his eyes. 

“Did it hurt?” Derek asks curiously, popping each of Stiles toes. Stiles wiggles around, trying to figure out if it’s just too painful or it he just really likes Derek massaging his feet. It’s like there’s a link starting from his foot that travels up his leg to his dick, then shooting straight up into the pleasure centers of his brain. There’s no way to describe it except as ‘too good’. Derek goes back to kneading the arches of his foot, pressing hard into the responsive body.

“N-no,” Stiles moans happily, biting his fist to keep from crying out. “Derek, ahh, Der-” He falls back into the mattress, pulling the pillow over his face to drown out the yells.

Derek chuckles darkly, fishing Stiles other foot into his lap and caressing up the sole of it until Stiles’ arches like a cat to get away. “You like that.”

“Derek, please.” Stiles pleads, fisting the sheets under his hands. “Harder, don’t stop.”

The older teen doesn’t, manipulating between Stiles’ swamp monster toes and even rotating his ankle until it popped. Stiles was a jittering muddle of satisfied nerves, arching his back as Derek massaged back up Stiles’ leg, setting every nerve alight with pleasure.

Leaning over, Derek kissed Stiles at the edge of his mouth, tongue swiping against his bottom lip. “You know…you just have to give in and this could all be over.” Derek’s fingers traveled up the inside leg of Stiles’ shorts, pressing into the thigh muscles and making Stiles’ cock twitch.

“Over?” Stiles says pitifully. He doesn’t want this to ever be over. He wants Derek’s magical hands on him for the rest of his life. He’s going to super-glue Derek’s hands to his body if he has to.

 “Mm-hm.” One of Derek’s hands brush against Stiles dick. “Just give in, say I win and I can take it all away. You don’t have to be so tense around me, let me be the one to win and I can show you such a good time.”

Stiles blinks slowly, his brain trying to catch up with what the other teens saying. Stiles’ wits screeching at him in inquiry, wondering why Derek is talking instead of putting that mouth to better use.  “Huh?”

 Derek’s thighs box Stiles under him, his crotch inches away from Stiles’ own. His hands leave Stiles’ shorts with a whimper, trailing up Stiles’ chest and gently pinching the pink nipples there. Stiles pants wetly, yanking Derek’s head down for a kiss. Derek weaves their fingers together, holding Stiles’ hands above his head and pulling back from the kiss. Stiles feels sort of like a feast laid out for the taking, Derek’s taking that is. “Stiles,” Derek nibbles at Stiles’ ear. “Please, end this. You’re only torturing yourself by not giving in.”

“Not you?”

“Mmm, okay, me too. But Stiles, you have to let me win. If not I can’t show you a good time.”

That didn’t make any sense.

“Why,” Stiles whines. “Good time now.”

How is Derek so articulate when Stiles can’t even work out how grammar works anymore? Is it some special werewolf power? The ability to form sentences while turned on?

“I know, you’re doing really good. But I can be better, just let me-”

There’s a loud crash downstairs following by some yelping and the fire alarm going off.

Derek hauls himself off Stiles and disappears so quickly Stiles has half a mind to believe he had just imaged the last half hour as a very vivid dream. If it wasn’t for the blaring sound that had his ears ringing and a headache starting up, he’d just rolled over and snuggled into the bed. As is, he figured he should head downstairs to see what was going on.

The others are huddled around the microwave watching their alpha spray a fire extinguisher over the remains of a burnt husk.

“What happened?” He asks Danny, the only one not freaking out about the noise. Jackson and Scott are holding the side of their heads and whining pitifully. Stiles might have felt bad for them if he wasn’t so pissed about them messing up his and Derek’s moment.

“Scott forgot to add water to one of those mac’n’cheese cups before putting it in the microwave. It caught on fire before anyone noticed.”

“Oh man that sucks. Derek’s probably going to need a new microwave now.”

Derek swore, after dousing the flames he was pulling rags out and passing them around, waving the smoke around and opening windows. He looked spitting mad, growling and snarling at the two betas like he was seconds away from tearing their heads off.

Scott shot Stiles a panicked look, begging with his eyes to save him. Stiles crossed his arms and stuck his nose up. Scott had abandoned him plenty of times because he was in a mood with Allison, it didn’t seemed fair that once the situations were reversed Scott would ruin Stiles’. This reeked of sabotage. Or stupidity. Could be either with Scott.

 “Mr. Hale?” Derek’s neighbor pounded on the door, Stiles practically leapt over Danny to answer it. Derek was already half transformed, pissed off at everyone for obvious reasons.

“Mindy!” Stiles stuck his head out, not letting the woman peek inside. “Everything’s fine, just a small kitchen accident.”

“Oh,” The woman looked disappointed to see him. “Do you need help or anything?”

“No, we’re fine. Derek’s handling it, thanks for asking.”

“Stiles!” Derek hollered from the kitchen. “Get your ass back in here and help. I’m going to murder the others in 10 seconds.”

The neighbor’s eyes went wide. Stiles smiled at her ruefully, giving her a wink before he shut the door in her face. Turning around he found Derek had Scott in a headlock, his best friends face red from exertion.

“Derek! Drop him or I’ll do something we’ll both regret.”

The alpha werewolf stared at Stiles for a moment. Deciding that he was serious, Derek released Scott, who stumbled into Stiles arms like an errant child. Stiles put a soothing hand of Scott’s back as he sucked in a lungful of air.

“Fine, keep him away from me for the rest of the day. I might kill him if I see him.”

Jackson watched in dismay as Stiles escorted Scott to his car, leaving him and Danny to deal with an irritated alpha.

***

“Okay, I think I learned my lesson.” Scott muttered, slumping into the passenger seat of Stiles’ jeep like a petulant teenager. “Never get between you and Derek.”

“Hmm.” Stiles said distracted, pulling out of the drive and not thinking about the fact he was still only wearing Derek’s shorts.

“Seriously, I think I almost died. He was about to ring my neck in frustration!”

“Scott,” Stiles said dryly. “If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m pretty sure you just saved me from loosing, I would do even worse.”

“What?” Scott looked at him in surprise.

 “Derek was seconds away from winning our game. If it had been the other way around, you cannot imagine the horrors I would reign down on you. Derek would only hurt you physically. I would break you physically, mentally, and spiritually.”

“O-kay. Glad I could help.” Scott squeaked, turning around slowly and staring out the window in alarm.

Stiles smirked.

***

Chapter Text

***

The room was ominously quiet except for the wheezing coming from the bed. The lump under the covers barely moved with each breath, hidden under the thick quilt and goose-down feather pillows. Derek steps lightly, trying to avoid the squeaky boards on the right side of Stiles’ bed.

Stiles mutters, burrowing his bandaged head into the pillows as a cool breeze travels in from the open window.

Derek freezes.

After a couple of heart shattering minutes, Stiles is back to snoring and Derek relaxes. He sinks into the bean-bag chair in the corner, facing Stiles. He knows he isn’t suppose to be there, has been ordered to stay away for awhile but he can’t help himself. He has to see for himself, with his own eyes that Stiles is okay. He’ll wait there until sunrise, and then he’ll leave.

***

“A fucking troll.” Stiles growls, trying to twist out of his bed sheets and sit up to help Allison with his food. She’d been kind enough to stick around and play nurse for him.

Allison looks sympathetic. “It could have been a lot worse considering the size of the creature. Your dad has a broken arm and your injuries are only superficial. In a few days this will all blow over.”

Stiles cringed at the memory. He’d been with his dad on patrol, just hanging out and eating fast food together, arguing over his dad’s curly fry intake. They’d been driving over the old Klamath Bridge when out of nowhere the ugliest, scariest motherfucker had jumped out and rolled the patrol car over. His dad had been able to crawl out, but in his shock had been backhanded into a tree by the humongous troll.

He had to save his dad. With trembling fingers Stiles had dialed Derek, holding the phone in his hand while he crawled across the dirt to get to his stunned father, screaming out an explanation when he heard the click of Derek picking up. Praying that Derek understood what he was saying.

And he must have, because while Stiles was helping his dad hobble away into the woods to hide, a blur of black fur and teeth had passed by. Scott stopping to help, picking the sheriff up bridal style just as his dad passed out in shock. When Stiles’ dad had come to, jabbering about goats and trolls, he’d taken one glance at Scott’s transformed face and fainted. When they were a safe distance away, Stiles had sat down and laughed hysterically until he choked on his own tears.

The rest of the night was just a blur. The flashing lights of an ambulance, Derek growling, his dad yelling at Scott to get away, the bright florescent lights of the ER. Stiles had had a concussion and a cut to the forehead. After being cleaned up and released from the hospital, he’d awkwardly explained things to his dad what was going on, Chris Argent coming in to explain the rest.

His dad now knew that Scott, Derek, and even Jackson were werewolves. He’d banned them from ever seeing Stiles again, warning that he’d find silver bullets if he ever found them around the house again.

So here Stiles was, moping around his bedroom with a visiting Allison. She’d been the only one allowed over, simply because she was human. His dad had taken away his phone and computer, making it even more impossible to communicate with the others like he wanted to, like he needed to.

“How are you feeling?” Allison checked his bandage, making a face at the puffy red skin.

“Fine.” Stiles sipped at his chicken soup and tried not to look as depressed as he felt. He wanted to see the others, to see Derek.

Allison glanced towards the door, listening to Stiles’ dad move around in the living room. “Here,” she pulls her phone out of her purse and pressing it into his hands. “Call him.”

Stiles instantly stopped pouting, taking the phone from Allison and quickly dialing Derek’s number by heart. It rings 3 times before someone picks up on the other end.

“Hello?” Derek’s tone is raw and brittle, like he’d been drinking all night and hadn’t slept a wink.

“Derek…” Stiles says breathlessly. He can’t believe this, why is he so emotional just from hearing his boyfriend’s voice. There are hot tears blurring his vision, something stuck in his throat as he listens to Derek breath heavily.

“Stiles…you okay?”

Stiles sniffles. “Yeah. You?”

“I’m fine. Werewolf remember.”

“Yeah,” Stiles stumbles over his words, wondering what to say. “Did you kill it?”

“We took care of it. How’s your dad?”

“He’s fine. Still freaking out, Mr. Argents has been over everyday talking to him so it’s only a matter of time before he’s making his own silver bullets and buying crossbows.”

Derek makes a noise between a laugh and a snort. “It will be okay, give him time.”

“I want to see you.” Stiles pleads, cupping the phone to his ear and turning his back on Allison. “Can you come over, sneak in through the window?”

“No Stiles, wait until your dad says it’s okay. We’ll see each other, just wait.”

“I can’t…”

“You can. I’m respecting your father’s wishes, so let’s not make it worse just so I can see you for 10 minutes Stiles.” Derek paused, “I-I’ll need more time than that.”

Stiles takes a breath, his chest rattling. “Okay. I understand.”

“Soon, just be patient. Sleep, heal up, and just relax, enjoy the time away from all the drama.”

“I’ll try.”

“I mean it.”

Stiles smiled ruefully, “Your making an awful a lot of demands for someone over the phone. How are you going to know if I’d been doing what you ask.”

“I have ways.”

Stiles knows the conversation is coming to an end. He desperately tries to think of something to say to get Derek talking again. “Is Scott okay?”

“Stiles, go. We’ll talk later, stop worrying.”

“But-”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“Really?”

“Bye Stiles, take care of yourself.”

The lump in his throat made him gasp for air. “I will. Bye Derek.”

Then there is just dial tone, and Allison gently slips the phone out of Stiles’ fingers and hangs up. Stiles hunches over, burying his face in his hands as Allison puts her arms around him, rocking them gently as he sobs.

***

A week later, Stiles is healing and Sheriff Stilinski is on desk duty for the next few months when Scott and Derek are finally allowed to visit much to Stiles’ surprise. He’s reading a book in bed, listening to music when Scott peeks his head around the door.

“Knock, knock.”

Stiles jumps three feet in the air, throwing his book over his shoulder and flailing. Scott laughs, pushing the door open and walking calmly in, like Stiles’ dad hasn’t been grumbling about planting wolfsbane around the yard to spruce up the place. He and Chris Argent have formed some sort of club, grumbling and giggling about dog jokes all week. 

“Scott!” Stiles slams into his best friend, throwing his arms around him in a manly hug. Scott holds him tightly, lifting Stiles off the ground as he hugs back, burying his nose in Stiles’ neck. There’s a moment where they both get a hold of themselves, jostling the other and looking bashful at the over emotional display.

“I guess you’re feeling better huh.” Scott looks him over, checking over the injuries Allison had been doctoring. She’d been his Florence Nightingale all throughout the week, coming over in the early hours of the morning and not leaving until late at night. Stiles had asked her if Scott was jealous yet and been whacked upside the head gently in reprimand. 

“How’d you get inside? Did my dad see you?” Stiles goes wide eyed. “You didn’t sneak in did you?”

“No, we came in through the front door.” Scott snorted. “Derek’s downstairs talking to your dad.”

“Derek’s here!” Stiles squeaked. He doesn’t know who he’s more terrified for, Derek or his dad. Now that his dad is properly armed, most likely Derek.

“Yeah, he called yesterday to talk to him. Your dad said it would be okay to visit you today, the others wanted to come but Derek said it would be best if we all didn’t come at once. Maybe ease your dad into this?”

“No, yeah, that’s awesome.” Stiles is overjoyed. Derek is fixing this, making things right again. Stiles had been worried he’d either be forced out or kicked out of the pack in retribution for exposing them to his dad, even after his dad had promised not to say anything (which had made for an interesting police report that Mr. Argent had helped fabricate, to explain the crumpled patrol car). “When’s he coming up?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“I’m happy to see you too, but I don’t want to make out with you.” Stiles waves him off. “I haven’t kissed my boyfriend in forever, and I’d like to see you go that long without kissing Allison and not whine about it. I’m dying here.”

“Ugh, way more information than I wanted to know.”

Stiles sticks his tongue out at Scott as the other teen takes a seat on the bean-bag chair. He furrows his brows, sniffing the air for a second before rolling his eyes again.

“What?” Stiles asks curiously, cleaning up the mess around his bed. It looks like a pigsty; clothes, books, medical bandages are everywhere. He anxiously picks up after himself before Derek sees it.

“Nothing. So you and Derek are officially boyfriends?”

“Of course we are,” Stiles raises an eyebrow, taking a seat on his half-way cleaned bed. “Where have you been for the last month?”

Scott throws his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just asking. You both never said anything to any of us so we just assumed.”

Stiles bit his lips, trying to remember if he’d ever mention his newly taken status to his friends even though they had been caught in some interesting positions. “Well, it’s not like he got down on his knees and proposed.” Actually now that he thought about it, Stiles had never really associated Derek as his ‘boyfriend’. Sure they’d been dating, but they had labeled it as their ‘thing’. Maybe now was the time to fix that.

“Mmm, okay whatever you say. Do I need to give him the Stiles Stilinski handbook?”

“I’m not a robot,” Stiles glares. “I thought you got rid of that in 7th grade.”

Scott laughs. “Yeah right, some of that stuff we wrote is liquid gold. Like, never let Stiles around--”

“Stiles,” Derek says quietly from behind him. Stiles quickly turns, standing up so suddenly he gets dizzy. Derek is framed in the doorway the light from the hall giving him a halo, a fond expression on his face as he looks Stiles over.

“Derek,” They meet in the middle, throwing their arms around each other as Derek presses kisses against Stiles’ neck. Stiles whimpers, pulling back enough he can properly kiss his boyfriend. Derek licks into his mouth, moaning happily as the kiss deepens.

“Guys?” Scott shifts awkwardly, trying to look unobtrusive as his alpha and best friend make out. “Hello?” He is completely ignored. “Okay, I get it. I’ll just go hang out with your dad, make sure he doesn’t head up here and find even more reason to riddle Derek with silver bullets.”

Stiles flaps his wrist at him, pulling Derek by his hair even closer, tongue sweeping against the werewolves canines.

Unknown to the two locking lips, Scott rolls his eyes and shuts the door gently behind him.

***

“Stiles, stop.” Derek pants, pushing against Stiles’ wrist as his hands wander up the older teen’s shirt.

“Why? I missed you.” Stiles bites at Derek’s collarbone.

“Your dad--”

“So, Scott will keep him occupied.” Stiles mutters into Derek neck, licking at the tan skin. Derek’s like a human salt lick and Stiles just can’t get enough of him.

Derek drags himself away, holding Stiles back at a distance as the younger teen whines and makes grabby hands at him, his lips slowly cherry red from making out. “He knows about us. Argent told him. He knows were dating.”

All the blood rushes from Stiles face as his arms went limp. His dad knew that he was dating Derek? And he allowed him up to Stiles room alone? “How are you still alive?” He asks in wonder.

“There’s stipulations.” Derek explains. Stiles sits heavily on his bed, staring up at Derek in trepidation. “He wants to talk to you about it but I told him we’re serious. I didn’t misspeak did I?”

Stiles takes in Derek’s pleading expression in awe. How did he ever land a guy like Derek? He’s seen Derek sniffle at those ASPCA commercials, he knows the guy has a heart. He must have done something amazing in another life to deserve this. Maybe he’d been Gandhi or something?

He pulls Derek down to his level, cupping his face in his hands. “No, you didn’t. This is serious, dead serious. Dead like a doornail serious.”

Derek laughs, looking blissfully relieved. “Hopefully not literally. You dad’s already threatened me twice.” The werewolf nuzzles his nose into Stiles cheek, his stubble scratching against the younger teen smooth skin. “There will be new rules but nothing we can’t handle together. It means the games have got to end. Your dad would skin me alive if he knew what we were doing.”

“Aww, I kind of wanted a werewolf throw-rug.”

“I’m serious Stiles. No more teasing. I don’t want to lie to your father and I’ve already told him we haven’t had sex.”

“Oh God, you talked to my dad about our sex life?” Stiles moans in horror. Jesus, this is all he needs. A build up to the greatest sex in virgin history and his dad goes and ruins it before anything happens. Cockblocked by his own father!

Derek shrugs. “I had to be honest. I’m 6 years older than you, he’s worried.”

Stiles flops back onto his bed with a dramatic wail. “Why! 23 is not that much older, there’s a girl in my Speech class dating a 25 year old and everyone’s okay with that.”

“This isn’t up for debate.” Derek scolds him, leaning back next to Stiles on the bed. “It’s not just the age thing either, I’m a werewolf and you’re a human. People regularly try to kill me, you’re the sheriff’s son. I’ve been to jail, you’re still in highschool. There are a number of things against us.”

“School is a lot like jail.” Stiles tried to smoother himself with his sheets. “But I lo-like you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Derek smiles fondly at him, carding his fingers through Stiles’ hair and down his neck. “Yeah, that counts for a lot. I like you too, so therefore we are going to work on this. Have a proper relationship that your father approves.”

“I’m not having sex till I’m 30 am I?” Stiles deadpans.

Derek smirks. “I wouldn’t say that. We’re just going to wait.”

Stiles hisses, “You’re not human.”

“No, I’m not.” Derek looks smug, like Stiles paid him a compliment. Stupid werewolf, Stiles hopes he gets unimaginably horny during the full moons and humps a tree stump. Maybe he’ll get splinters in a sensitive area and regret ever saying anything to Stiles’ dad. “Now come on, your dad only gave me a few minutes alone with you.” Derek smacks Stiles in the backside, earning a squeak from the teen.

“I thought you said you’d need more than 10 minutes?” Stiles glares, letting Derek pull him up. He slumps uselessly against Derek’s warm chest, his fingers threading through the loops of Derek’s jeans.   

Derek gives him a kiss, his hands on Stiles hips. “And that’s why I’m staying for dinner.”

Stiles jaw drops. “What?”

With a nervous smile, Derek led Stiles downstairs.

***

Chapter Text

***

Derek’s sitting on his couch in his apartment watching Star Trek when his front door is slammed open and Stiles stands there, the light from outside back-lighting him like he’s Agent K from MIB. The expression on his face is strange, he doesn’t look upset, at least not at Derek, but he sure doesn’t look happy either.

“That’s it!”

Stiles storms inside, throwing the door closed with a loud bang and stomping over to Derek. He picks the older teen’s legs up by the ankles- since Derek has them propped up on the coffee table like a slob- and he just yanks Derek’s jeans clean right off, like those magicians who sweep the table cloth out from under fine china. 

“Stiles!” Derek doesn’t squeak. He doesn’t. That was just a noise the couch made when he fell back on it.

Stiles ignores him, shucking his own shirt over his shoulders and taking a seat right on Derek’s lap. Derek’s hands get caught between them because he was trying to pull his boxers back up and instead he ends up cupping Stiles rear as the younger teen makes himself comfortable.

“Uh…not that I’m not enjoying this, but what the hell?”

Stiles glares at him. “I’m tired of waiting around for you to get your act together.”

“Excuse me?”

Stiles runs his hands down his face like Derek’s the one being frustrating. “Sex. I want to have sex. Right now.”

Derek blinks at him. They had gone almost a whole two month since Stiles’ dad found out their secret, school started in a few days, and now Stiles said something. Derek was under the impression that they were going to wait, since Stiles was the younger of them it would be up to him to make the first move to instigate things further than they’d already gone. It was part of Derek’s compromise with Mr. Stilinski if he wanted to continue dating his son and not die in a fire for pissing the Stilinski clan off (then of course the sheriff looks sad about mentioning the fire-thing and promptly told Derek he’d just riddle him with silver bullets if he hurt Stiles in any way).

So this must be Stiles instigating things.

“Can I at least ask what brought this on?”

Stiles frowns some more, wiggling down into Derek’s lap in retaliation. “No. This is a fuck or die scenario, so choose wisely.”

Derek tightens his hands around Stiles’ waist. “Right, easy choice then.”

“Exactly,” Stiles says and leans forward, sweet breath ghosting against Derek’s lips. He must have been at the cake shop again. “Second choice: here or your bed room?”

Derek is very much willing to fuck Stiles on his couch, he likes this couch, has fond memories of this couch, and it’s rather firm enough to support the fuckage that could happen here. He just isn’t too sure he’s readily equipped to see his couch every day and know that’s were Stiles lost his virginity. He’d get a boner every time he saw it and what if he had company over that wasn’t Stiles?

“Bedroom, come on.” Derek helps Stiles up since the teen refuses to ungluing himself from Derek’s lap. He has to carry Stiles up the stairs and is very, very thankful for werewolf strength because Stiles isn’t exactly light, the kid has muscle. Stiles legs wound tightly around Derek’s waist, holding on just in case.

“Oh thank gawd,” Stiles says in relief. “I thought you’d put up a fight and make us wait more.”

Derek snorts. “What am I, a fucking saint? I’ll wait if you want to but other than that…”

“No, no, no. No more waiting. Now!” Stiles climbs up him like a tree, pressing kisses into Derek’s neck and sucking hickies under his chin. Derek gropes at the door on accident, trying to push it open and hefting Stiles up further so he doesn’t slide down at the same time. He eventually figures it out, just kicking it open in frustration and throwing Stiles down onto his bed with a bounce.

“That’s hot,” Stiles says, licking his lips. He scoots up the bed, kicking his shoes off and staring at Derek from under his lashes as he works the button of his jeans open. “You gonna stand there or join me.”

“Just enjoying the view,” Derek sighs. One day he’ll convince Stiles to wear those shorts from that cooking incident only, but completely naked isn’t bad either. Not bad at all.

Derek helps Stiles out of his jeans, pulling off Stiles’ socks too as the cotton slides down his legs. He takes off his own shirt easily, throwing if off to the side towards his closet and leaving them both just in their underwear. Derek blinks, “There’s a chicken.”

Stiles cringes. “Cock. Choke the chicken, get it? I didn’t exactly dress this morning with the idea that you’d be seeing them later. This is kind of spur of the moment. Next time I promise to dress to impress, I’m sure I have monkey and banana boxers somewhere.”

“I’m going to strangle you,” Derek growls, climbing up the bed over Stiles and straddling him. Stiles squirms, hands going to Derek’s hips, his short human nails lightly scratching against Derek’s skin. 

“I think we should hold off on the heavy S&M choking stuff until later. I saw a dog collar at the sex store that looked interesting and Lydia suggests I buy a whip if we want to work on ‘training’ you. Oh, how about--”

Derek shut’s Stiles up by kissing him. Some days the only thing that will quiet the teen for 5 seconds is Derek’s tongue down his throat. So now Derek has strangely been keen on hearing Stiles talk more. There’s like a reward system and he’s Pavlov’s dog. It’s totally unfair.

Stiles bucks under him as Derek spreads out to lie beside the smaller teen, pressing him down into the mattress as their knees bang together.

“Stop squirming,” Derek admonishes between a kiss, running a hand up Stiles neck and yanking on his ear gently. Stiles whines pitifully, blinking up at Derek with hazy brown eyes.

“Why are you teasing me, no more teasing remember.”

“I’m not teasing you.” Derek rolls his eyes. “It’s called foreplay.”

“There have been months of foreplay. I think we can get to the main event finally before I kill someone in frustration.” He swats at Derek’s side.

Derek huffs, tweaking one of Stiles’ nipples in revenge. “Shut up and let me do my thing.”

Stiles moans, slipping his hands down Derek’s back and into his boxers, palming his ass. Derek growls, hips bucking forwards into Stiles’ as he bites lightly on the skin between Stiles’ neck and shoulder. The human whimpers and squeezes the plump mounds in his hands.

“Stiles--”

“God, I just want to fuck you Derek,” Stiles murmurs. His hands move under Derek’s shorts to cup his erection, cool hands startling Derek as they stoke up his dick.

“Maybe next time,” Derek says, grabbing Stiles wrist to still him. If Stiles kept that up he’d come before things even really started he’s so on edge and while he’s still young it would take some heavy petting for him to get it up again that quick. He shimmied out of his boxers instead and helped Stiles with his, admiring Stiles’ cock as it sprung free.

Stiles blushes a pretty pink under Derek’s admiring gaze. Biting his lips and moving the pillow under him, Derek took position between his legs.

“Can I suck you?” Derek asks, surprised at himself. Stiles perks up, crooking a finger at him and nodding manically. He obviously likes the idea of Derek giving him a blowjob. For the last week they’ve been working up to it between their lazy fumbling and dirty hand jobs, dry humping each other like dogs in heat. Derek was going to give it another month before Stiles broke down and begged for sex but he can’t say he’s disappointed how things turned out.

Derek likes the feel of Stiles’ cock on his tongue. The pillow makes it perfect for Derek to suck and not get a crick in his neck, bobbing his head up and down as he takes as much of Stiles as he can (he hasn’t done it in a while) humming around the thick shaft in his mouth. There’s the salty taste of Stiles’ pre-cum on his tongue as Stiles tries to buck and Derek holding him down by his hips. The sensitive, barely there graze of his canines against Stiles’ cockhead earns him a pained moan.

“D-Derek! Oh-my-gawd, you just--you just keep doing that.”

Derek comes up for air with a wet ‘pop’, licking his lips to chase the taste of Stiles. “Hand me the lube.”

Stiles digs franticly in the drawer at his bedside.

“And a condom,” Derek reminds him.

Stiles nearly dings him in the head with the bottle, slapping his thigh like he wants Derek to hurry up because he is so overcome he cannot verbally express it.

Derek chuckles darkly, squeezing some gel onto his fingers and setting the bottle and condom aside for later. “Relax-”

Stiles makes a pained sound.

“Trust me on this, some of us have actually read that book you bought.” Derek of course refers to the Anal Sex Guide that Stiles bought at the sex shop and then quickly forgot about in embarrassment when Derek found it. How does Derek know that Stiles hasn’t read it? Well, he stole it. Though Stiles could easily look all the information about gay sex up on the internet that he wants, so Derek isn’t too worried Stiles doesn’t know what he’s getting into.

Derek has not yet figured out if Stiles has used the toys though. That’s his next mission.

He goes back to licking and sucking on Stiles cock as he worms his slick hand under Stiles’ rear, spreading the teen’s legs up and open so he can press against Stiles winking anus. Stiles makes a noise when Derek breaches him, knees knocking into Derek’s temple as he clamps down and almost making Derek bite him.

“Stiles,” Derek says scathingly, his finger still inside Stiles but not moving.

“Sorry, sorry.” Stiles looks a little lost, like he doesn’t know what to do about what he’s feeling, where to put all the energy he’s making. So Derek works to resolve this. “It’s just different when it’s your fingers…”

By the time he has three fingers in Stiles stretching him open, Stiles is sobbing into his first orgasm, grabbing at Derek hair –which earns him a growl- as he comes down the werewolf’s throat.  

Derek sit’s up, moving Stiles’ loose legs around his waist as he leans over Stiles. The condom goes on easily as Derek slicking himself up and moves into position.

“Derek,” Stiles moans. “I’m so pissed at you for making me wait for that.”

Derek chuckles, “Whatever, you can return the favor later.”

Stiles looks down his body to see what Derek is doing, curious as he moves one leg up over Derek’s shoulder, his spent cock twitching in interest as he feels Derek’s cockhead against his hole.

The first push into Stiles tight hole almost does Derek in right there. Even though he’s stretched Stiles as best as he can, the taut channel contracting around him is almost too much.

Stiles whines from oversensitivity, canting his hips up as Derek slides deeper. “Ah, a-ah” Stiles clenches his hands on Derek’s thigh, nails digging in. He feels full, his passage tender where Derek’s thick shaft sinks deep inside him.

“Shh,” Derek whispers, kissing gently at Stiles’ shoulder and neck. He resists the urge to thrust in and bottom out, but just barely. The wolf in him wants to rut, flip Stiles over and pound into him like an animal. He grinds his teeth at the thought, Derek has Stiles and that’s all that matters. It doesn’t matter how.

Pulling back Derek strains not to shove brutally back in, instead he gently thrusting back and forth in a rhythm that has Stiles begging in satisfaction not pain. Stiles whimpers and moans, barely coherent in his pleasure as Derek fucks into him.

“O-oh gawd, Derek,” Stiles gasps, hands running down Derek’s back and pulling him closer and kissing him. Derek gives a sharp thrust hitting the perfect spot to make Stiles wail. Stiles’ own dick is already coming back to life, the feel of Derek spearing him open sends shivers down his spine and make his toes curl. Derek is breeding him, hips slapping loudly as his heavy sack smacks against Stiles as he finally bottoming out. Stiles arches and Derek watches his expression change to one of absolute bliss.

“Please, harder. Don’t stop, Derek--”

 Derek feels possessive, pulling Stiles back onto his cock and pounding violently into him. He wants to own him, wishes everyone else had a werewolf nose so they could smell his scent on Stiles. To know he was first and only to have Stiles this way. 

“Oh, oh, ah-Derek…!” Stiles howls and scratches down Derek’s back as he comes again, thick rivets of cum convulsing across his alabaster stomach. “Derek, oh, please that’s so good!”

Derek grounds into him, Stiles channel tightens around his cock as he coaxes more ejaculate out of Stiles by stroking the teen’s dick. Stiles whines desperately as Derek continues to fuck him.

The werewolf gives a startled grunt as he comes balls-deep in his mate. Stiles moaning shamelessly as he feels Derek’s cock twitch inside him, pulsing hotly. Stiles wishes silently that there wasn’t the condom barrier between them, part of him wanted to feel his hole come-slick with Derek’s seed, dribbling lewdly down his thighs. As is, he’ll feel the ache of having Derek spear him open and plowing him within an inch of his life.

“Stiles,” Derek sighs, pulling his softening cock out with a wince and pulling the condom off and tying it. He tosses the used rubber into the trash by his bed, flopping back down beside a panting Stiles. The younger teen looks more than sated, smiling pleasantly up at the ceiling with a dazed expression.

 “Stiles?”

“Hmm…”

Derek smiles at him, pulling Stiles over for a muddled kiss. Stiles is completely slack but chirps happily as Derek licks into his mouth gracelessly. Derek pulls back with a sloppy smack, running sticky fingers from Stiles cheek to ear. Derek’s heart beats erratically in his chest in joy, happy to see Stiles so content and thoroughly debauched.

“I’m gonna get something to clean us up okay?”

Stiles blinks hazily up at him.

“I’ll be right back,” Derek says. “Don’t worry.” He laughs to himself as he gets up, finds a cloth and wets it before returning to the bed. Stiles hasn’t even moved an inch, in fact he doesn’t even look like he noticed Derek had left.

Derek gets a shiver when he sees Stiles slick loose hole, cleaning cum off Stiles’ belly and around his genitals. He’s amazed at his libido because looking at Stiles splayed out in an orgasmic pile just makes him want to go again. Stiles gives a grunt when Derek wipes down his perenium to the sphincter. He tosses the towel away, falling back into the warm space next to Stiles and cuddling close.

The smell of sex and sweat permeate the room, probably the whole apartment. Derek smirks at the thought of the beta’s coming over and smelling it, shooting Derek and Stiles scandalized looks and having conniption fits over the fact that Derek has mated Stiles. If anything they should be happy to the end of all the tension saturating the air between the alpha and his boyfriend.

“Stiles?” Derek looks over at the teen, still curious to know what brought on Stiles sudden desire to have sex ‘right now’.

Stiles is snoring softly, dead to the world and grinning madly in sleep.

Snorting, Derek throws the covers over them both, pulling Stiles closer to him as he too falls into a short nap. They’ll talk later. Or fuck. Doesn’t really matter to him.

***

Chapter Text

*****

Allison had to walk through the house, pausing to pick up her jacket and purse before meeting Scott at her car. It was only by chance really that she glanced into the living room, seeing movement out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh,” she paused.

Derek looked up at her from where he was laying on the couch, Stiles passed out on top of him and a warm fleece covering their legs.

“He’s exhausted,” Derek explained, running a large hand down Stiles neck and back. Stiles murmured, cuddling closer.

“No, it’s fine. I just…” Allison didn’t know how to explain it. Even though she’d been there the whole time and helped instigate Stiles’ plan to woe Derek into his bed, there was something…sweet about seeing them now. It was like there was a burden lifted from them both and in its place was an easy calm. Seeing them together now gave a whole new meaning to ‘meant to be’ in her mind, like even though sex between them was inevitable, it was the simple grace of two halves forming a whole that really brought to light how perfect they were for each other.

 “You both look comfortable.” She finished awkwardly. She didn’t know if the alpha would like to be called ‘cute’ just because he was cuddling with his boyfriend. Derek raised an eyebrow at her anyways, like he could read minds and didn’t quite believe her. She fumbled her keys out of her purse. “I’ll just—I’ll just leave now. You two have fun.”

Derek snorted, making Stiles grab his shirt and burrow into his armpits. Allison picked up her keys so she wouldn’t have to watch, giving a wave over her shoulder and heading out. She heard a muffled ‘bye’ on the other side of the closed door and walked away, smiling to herself.

Scott cocked his head at her. “What’s got you in a good mood?”

Allison smiled, kissing her werewolf boyfriend on the cheek. “Nothing.”

***      

The club beat pulsed in his ears, making them ring while the stench of hundreds of sweaty human bodies clogged up his sinuses. The flashing lights blinded him, making Derek cringe away from the dance floor, where the worse of all the sensory overloading was happening. He really hoped Stiles wasn’t in that. The only reason he was here was to pick up his wayward boyfriend after receiving a text from Lydia.

“Derek!” A distant voice shouted. Catching a glance of a pale hand holding a cell phone up over the crowd gave him reference and he headed towards it.

Lydia leaned against the bar, Stiles slumped over beside her.

“Finally, I thought you’d never get here.”

“I’ve been here for 20 minutes,” Derek growled, shoving a guy away who bumped into him. Thankfully the guy was too drunk to get angry and just toddled away in the direction Derek shoved him in. “It’s hard to find people in these places. I hate clubs.”

“Yeah, we know.” Lydia rolled her eyes. “We’re ready to leave so quit your whining.”

Derek reached over and pulled Stiles up, throwing the teen’s lank arm around his shoulders.

“Derek!” Stiles smiled blissfully at him. “My boyfriends back!” He crowed to the room.

The werewolf ignored the hammered teen while he maneuvered them both around people, Lydia holding onto his belt loops behind him. Stiles continued his drunken version of ‘My boyfriend’s back’ and kissed sloppily at Derek’s neck. When they finally burst into the cool night air and the door closed behind them cutting off the music, Derek sighed with relief.

“Stiles, stop that.” He detached the teen from his neck, it was sort of what he imaged detaching a leach was like. “You smell horrid.”

Lydia giggled. “The club wouldn’t let us have alcohol, so we had some before Jackson dropped us off.”

Derek was a little concerned about Jackson tendencies to do things Stiles asked for and not ask why or question it. He’d have to have a talk with the beta about that. “If he pukes in my car I’m holding you responsible to clean it,” Derek grumbled.

“Whatever.” Lydia flipped her hair, plopping into the passenger seat like it was her throne. Derek laid Stiles out in the back, making sure he was on his stomach. The drive to Lydia’s was mostly quiet except for Stiles messy singing and incessant giggling, which Derek had learned to tune out. It wasn’t until they were in the red-heads drive way that she turned to Derek.

“You know he really missed you,” She said seriously, looking Derek right in the eye. “He was sulky the whole week you were away and then the night you come back you refuse to hang out with him.”

“I had business to take care of so leave off.” Derek wasn’t about to tell her about it before he told Stiles. To tell her he went back to New York for his transcript and then went and applied at Berkley, where Stiles planned to attend. That he looked at houses around the area and talked to the local pack, getting permission to bring his pack there to live temporarily while everyone finished their education (himself included). While his trip might have been pack business, it didn’t necessarily mean he wanted everyone to know right now. He wanted to talk it over with Mr. Stilinski first. “And I don’t like clubs.”

“We only went because you didn’t want to spend movie night with us.”

“Isn’t tonight your human-night or whatever? I didn’t want to interfere.”

“Please,” Lydia shot him an unimpressed look. “Now you’re just making excuses. Tell me why you didn’t want to hang out with your boyfriend tonight and I’ll leave it alone.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red. “Don’t try to dominate me like that. If I say leave it, leave it.”

Lydia huffed, grabbing her stuff together and getting out of the car. She paused before slamming the door, looking at Stiles with something like wonder in her eyes. “Sometimes…I don’t get why I didn’t see how great he was, how deserving. He takes care of everyone and never asks for anything in return but for a little affection, and it kills me now to see him upset. So, if you do anything to ever make him cry I’m going to cut you into tiny pieces using a silver spoon and feed you to my cat. Got it?”

Derek smiled sharply, displaying his canines. “Yes, now go.”

Lydia shut the door and headed inside, Derek waited until she turned the porch light off before pulling away. Stiles still cackled to himself in the back, now making shadow puppets on the back of the seat.

Derek shook his head in bemusement, wondering at the overprotectiveness of his pack for his young mate. They always acted like it was Derek who would eventually break Stiles’ heart when it obviously was the other way around. Derek was a werewolf, he would disembowel himself before he did anything to hurt Stiles, while most days he lived in fear that his human would grow wiser and grow distant to the relationship between them. He lament for the day that Stiles figured out he could do so much better than Derek.

But until then, Derek would cherish and love every second he was with Stiles.

***

“Oh hey guys,” Danny says, pulling his newest boyfriend over to meet Stiles and Derek. They had been in the middle of a date, deciding to see a movie before the end of the night. He was surprised to see the two out together, Derek didn’t like to go out into crowded areas and the newest release of Harry Potter didn’t seem like his kind of thing.

“Meet Daniel.” Danny motioned to his date, who stands stiffly beside him in a posh outfit. Danny takes the seat beside the other couple since the theater is almost packed and he doesn’t think they will mind.

Stiles squints at Danny. “I thought your name was Daniel.”

“It is,” Danny concedes, smiling goofily. “We decided to call him Daniel and I go by Danny to make it easier to remember. “

“That’s weird,” Stiles says, earning a scowl from Daniel. He had been unhappy since they discovered the action movie he wanted to see was no longer showing and Danny had happily said he wanted to see Harry Potter.

“Does that mean when you have sex you’ll be calling out your own name?!” Stiles says in horror, grasping the chair arms for dramatic effect.

“Stiles!” Derek barks, whapping the teen in the back of the head.

“Seriously! Can you imagine having sex and calling out your own name. I don’t think I could, I’d laugh too much. Do you think that count as masturbation?”

“Stiles,” Derek growls, running a hand down his face in frustration.

“Would you say ‘Danny’ or ‘Daniel’?” Stiles asks Danny. “If you said Danny would it count as calling out someone else’s name?”

“Stop Stiles please,” Derek moans. Stiles stops to look at his boyfriend, smiling mischievously.

If anything Daniel looked even angrier but Danny laughed it off, putting a reassuring hand on his dates knee until Daniel huffs and looks away. Derek watches everything with narrowed eyes.

Danny decides to figure out why the two others are there. “What brought you both out to the premiere? I thought you both had other plans tonight?”

“We did,” Derek sends Stiles an exasperated look. “It’s our 6th month anniversary so it was Stiles’ turn to plan the date.”

“I wanted us both to dress up in costume.” Stiles pouts, earning a laugh from Danny.

“Wait,” Daniel buts in. “You’ve been dating for that long?”

“Yeah,” Stiles answers, looking confused. Danny suddenly dreaded where this was going. Daniel had displayed during their first date a lack of self-awareness and common decency regarding others around them to make the date truly pleasurable. Danny had suggested the movie as a way to kind of tune the other out and not listen to his snide comments for a few hours.

“Wow,” Daniel smirks and suddenly it wasn’t as charming as Danny had originally imagined it. “I don’t know how you put up with it dude.” He’s speaking to Derek over Stiles and Danny’s heads. “He must give good head for you to put up with that mouth.”

Danny doesn’t even have a chance to warn his date before Derek is hauling him up and down the aisle, dragging Daniel flailing down the steps and out the theater. The theater is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Douche,” A grandma sitting behind them comments. The people around them burst out laughing while Stiles burry’s his face in his hands. Danny uncomfortably throws an arm around him, trying to figure out if Stiles is laughing or crying.

“I’m okay,” Stiles waves him off, wiping a tear away. His face was red but he’s smiling, “That was hilarious.”

“What? My obnoxious date being dragged away to be pummeled by your hunky boyfriend.”

“No, well, yes.” Stiles says, knocking shoulders with Danny. “God, Derek’s going to be catering to my every whim for the next few days so I can’t help but be happy about that. It’s like I’m some delicate flower that needs to be constantly reassured of his affection for me. He takes these kinds of things so personally.”

“Of course he does,” Danny says. “He loves you.”

“Yeah?” Stiles smiles shyly and the grandmother behind them coos.

“Yeah. You two are sickenly cute together. I get jealous all the time watching you both.”

“Please, stop.” Stiles mutters, blushing profusely.

“You’re a great guy and so is Derek, you deserve each other. Now if we can just find me a Derek and we’ll be set. Do you think you’d mind cloning him?”

Stiles laughs. “Two Dereks? Only in my dreams.”

Derek appears just as the previews start, cleaning his bloody knuckles with a spare napkin. He smiles pleasantly at Stiles and Danny. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Danny says. “You don’t mind if I tagalong for this part of your date do you?”

“No, it’s cool.” Stiles nods. “You need a ride home?”

“Naw, I’ll call Jackson.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Derek put and arm around Stiles and pull him close, whispering into his ear until Stiles is smiling brilliantly, cheeks rosy as he runs a finger over Derek’s knuckles. Danny sends a text to Jackson and turns his phone off.

He can’t wait until he finds what Stiles and Derek have.

***

Jackson curls up beside Stiles, watching the other teen read through his history book.

“You know, if you hurt him, I’ll hurt you.”

“Eloquent,” Stiles replies, marking something on his homework sheet. “Who are we talking about.”

“Derek.” Jackson nuzzles into Stiles’ side, pulling the bed covers over him and leaving none for the other teen. “I mean it,” he mutters.

“I’m sure you do.”

Jackson is frustrated. He doesn’t know how to articulate correctly what he’s trying to say. Stiles doesn’t understand because he’s not wolf, he’s pack, but he’s not wolf.

“You have control over him, use it wisely.”

Stiles finally sets the book aside and pays attention to what Jackson is saying. “Is this one of those ‘use your powers for good not evil’ talks I hear you giving Lydia all the time?”

“No,” Jackson growls. “You’re it for him, you’re his mate. He won’t admit it but I think he’s scared of you.”

“Me?” Stiles pauses, he’d been petting Jackson, trying to calm the jittery beta down. “You act like I’m using him or something?”

“I know you’re not. It’s just…” Jackson needs an interpreter, or Danny. Danny’s always good at figuring out and simplifying what Jackson’s trying to say. Jackson has a tendency to put his foot in his mouth and get off the topic and into a fight.

“Jackson, you know I love Derek. I love all of you.” Stiles says softly. Jackson understands this, he’s known it. Stiles shows his affection through action, not just words, but he has no problem saying it either. Unlike him. It was something Jackson was readily getting addicted to.

 “I know.” Jackson rolls over so Stiles can scratch his back, blunt fingernails digging into the itchy skin. “I wish you were a werewolf, than you could see what I mean.”

“Maybe someday.”

Jackson perks up. “You’re thinking of turning?”

Stiles shrugs, looking sleepy. Jackson’s unexpected arrival had been right in the middle of him getting ready for bed. “Yeah, Derek and I have talked about it. He wants me to wait until after college.”

“That’s smart.” Jackson lies back down. He doesn’t know what it is about Stiles that makes him seek the other teen out for reassurance, Derek says it’s just a pack structure thing. Jackson figures that means Stiles is something like an alpha female, which makes him snicker to himself and enforces the urge to call the other teen mom.

“Hey can I stay the night?”

Stiles looks heavenward. “We have school tomorrow.”

“So.”

“Fine, if Derek shows up in the middle of the night you get to explain things.” Stile sighs, setting his finished homework aside.

“Whatever.”

Stiles grumbles, giving Jackson his spare pillow (which smells like Derek) and an extra set of pajamas (which also smell like Derek) before laying down in bed. Jackson sends his dad a text and sets the alarm on his phone so he can get up earlier to head home to change.

When Derek shows up in the middle of the night, he doesn’t even ask, just lies down between the two teens and falls easily asleep. In the morning, Jackson beats a hasty retreat when he catches whiff of the pheromones being created and sees Derek goose Stiles awake.

***

Scott, is predictably, the last to figure it out. Sure he knew Stiles and Derek were dating, he knew that, he wasn’t dumb. He just hadn’t known that Stiles was no longer a virgin.

And that apparently, Derek lets him top.

Sort of.

“My eyes!” Scott wails, turning around too quickly and tumbling down the roof.

Stiles looks over his shoulder, the strange U-shaped instrument in his hand dropping to the sheets as he scrambles off Derek with a whine to check on his best friend. Derek tries to smoother himself with a pillow.

“Scott!”

“I may never see again,” Scott whines from the rose bushes. He doesn’t think he can ever get the image of Stiles over Derek, bed thumping against the wall, and the slick sounds of sex out of his mind until he hits his head hard enough to get amnesia but he’s damn sure going to try.

“Are you okay?” Stiles is hanging half out of the window, still naked. Scott is suddenly concerned that the neighbors might be watching.

 “Fuck!” Bad choice of words on Scott’s part. “Just, put a sign on the window or something when you two want some alone time. I mean, what if I was your dad?”

Stiles looks amused. “My dad’s away for the weekend and he uses the front door.”

“Jesus!” Scott gives himself a shake, pulling himself out of the bushes. “I don’t-I just, what the hell man!”

“What the hell what? You didn’t know Derek and I were fucking each other’s brains out?”

“Stop…” Scott puts his hands over his ears. “I don’t want to know. I want to live in blissful ignorance that you’re still innocent and pure, and then I won’t have to kill Derek for defiling you.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You sound like my dad. Seriously, you should be happy for me, I was happy for you and Allison.”

“You haven’t walked in on Allison and I inflagrante. There are some things a guy should never know about his friends, like what kind of toys they like to use and who tops.”

“We switch,” Stiles shrugs nonchalantly, like he isn’t ruining Scott’s world one comment at a time. “And we don’t use toys all the time, just to spice things up. You know if you were a good boyfriend you’d let Allison bone you.”

What?!”

“I was there when she bought the strap-on so I know she’s interested in it.”

Scott feels dizzy, like the world is turning on it axes and said ‘lets fuck with Scott and put him in a different reality’. He has sudden visions of dominatrix Allison in black leather with a whip, leading Scott around on a chain and spanking him for being a ‘bad dog’.

He’s not sure how he feels about this.

Neither does his penis.

“Look,” Stiles interrupts. “The only reason Derek isn’t threatening you is because he’s tied up, literally, so unless you have something important to say, tell me, or can I please go back to fucking my boyfriend.”

“Nothing important,” Scott squeaks. “Just wanna hang out but I can see you’re busy.”

“Okay, talk to you later.” Stiles closes the window and shuts the blinds. Ten seconds later there’s a sticky note slammed onto the window pane that says ‘Do NOT Disturb’ in bold writing.

Scott flips open his phone and calls his girlfriend.

Someone has to explain what the fuck is going on here.

***

Sherriff Stilinski hands Derek a brochure application to join the K-9 unit of the Beacon Hills Police Force right in the middle of setting the table for dinner.

Derek doesn’t know if it’s some sort of joke or if he’s serious, so he takes the paper and stuffs it in his pocket without saying anything.

Mr. Stilinski nods, smiling innocently at Stiles when he joins them downstairs a moment later.