Work Header

Slow Burn

Chapter Text

"I can't wait!" Stiles was practically vibrating with nervous energy as he tore through his room like a whirlwind of manic energy. "This right here," he said as he pointed at the suitcase he was packing with a ferocity that made it seem like his house was dropping into a sinkhole and he had limited time to save his possessions, "This is going to contain everything we need for the most awesome weekend ever."

Scott, whose suitcase was already packed and leaning against the wall near the door to Stiles's room, grunted noncommittally from the chair at Stiles's desk. Stiles cast him a disapproving frown. "What?" Scott asked. He hunched his shoulders as Stiles stared at him.

Stiles's eyebrows shot up, he flailed his arms trying to drive his point into his utterly lame werewolf best friend's brain. "What? What? Did you seriously just ask me what?" Stiles licked his lips in anticipation as he grabbed Scott by the shoulders and shook him lightly. "We are going on a vacation. A sour wolf funded vacation of awesome, awesome at a beach. This is actually whatever comes right after awesome, maybe… maybe two stages past awesome even."

"Super awesome?" Scott said trying to be helpful but his voice came out in a bewildered monotone.

"Don't. Just don't, I'm afraid your D plus vocabulary doesn't possess the kinds of words needed for this." Stiles teased.

Scott sighed but didn't reply. Stiles thought he was going to argue at first. If his friend had, he'd been ready to throw out a litany of times where Scott had ditched him to be with Allison. Stiles knew how much he cared about her. He supported his friend, but sometimes he wished Scott had just a little more time for him too. He missed late nights eating pizza and playing video games. Scott could get so focused, so caught up in the moment that sometimes he didn't realize he was excluding other people who cared about him. Stiles would never say anything about it though. He was happy for Scott.

"What?" Scott asked. His eyes were slightly unfocused, gazing towards the window. He let out a short wistful breath. Scott didn't seem to want an answer, but Stiles was going to tell him anyway. That's what Stiles did, he talked. It was his thing.

"We need to tell Jackson to bring some of his parents' booze. You know Frowny isn't going to buy us beer," he said.

"Is…" Scott paused as if collecting his thoughts, "is Derek 'Frowny'?"

"Of course Derek is Frowny! Who in the world is more frowny than Derek? No one, no one is frownier. In fact, I think if Derek met the Grinch and Ebenezer Scrooge, they'd both be like 'Dude, smile once in a while', and do you know what he would do, Scott? Do you?" Stiles waited impatiently for Scott's answer.

"Frown?" Scott asked.

"You're damn right he would frown!" Stiles gestured emphatically to drive his point further home. "But he wouldn't stop there because he's Derek flippin Hale. He'd get all red glowing eyes on them and be like 'I am the Alpha, yes that has a capital A in it as you can tell from my overtly threatening manly voice. As the Alpha, I am above things like smiles, and laughing. Kittens tremble as I walk past and laughter dies a peasant's death." Stiles took a deep breath and started to pace back and forth in front of the window, he was just getting started on the topic.

He turned towards Scott with a small flourish; ready to unleash the next line of his completely accurate Derek impersonation when he noticed Scott was looking over his shoulder. The expression on his friend's face was acute horror with a side of pants wetting primal fear. Stiles licked his lips and thought about what could cause that. "He's… he's right behind me isn't he?"

Scott nodded; face a few shades paler than normal. The teen wolf opened his mouth, a strangled noise of some sort came out but Stiles couldn't identify what it was. Maybe it was a gasping hiccup? That was sort of adorable, he'd be sure to bring that up at every opportunity to heckle his friend.

"Is he glowing?" Stiles asked. He gesturing towards his own eyes, tried to play it cool and not acknowledge that his voice cracked on the 'he'. Scott nodded and the expression of horror on the young werewolf's face slowly started to become one of amusement.

Stiles sighed and let his arms fall to his sides, arms that had already embraced the inevitable. "He's probably about to grab—" Stiles was interrupted as strong hands seized his arms, spun him around and slammed him into the wall. "Me…" he finished with a squeak.

"This is not a frown. This is a scowl!" Derek snarled into his face.

Stiles licked his lips nervously. Derek's eyes faded from pulsing red to soft green. Derek was once again very much up in his business. He looked over at Scott for help, but his friend shrugged in a way that said 'D plus Vocabulary that bitch'.

Now it was Stiles's turn to sigh. He might have to grovel. He tried a smile but Derek's scowl got… scowlier. He corrected himself, he'd definitely have to grovel.

"Heya, boss… I mean, awesome guy… I mean, Alpha my Alpha! I was just talking about how awesome this weekend is going to be. How you yourself, the orchestrator of that awesome, awesome's very maestro if you will, were the cause of it." Stiles tried to keep his breathing steady and licked his lips nervously.

Derek's scowl lost some of its power. The werewolf tilted his head at Stiles as if he couldn't understand the things coming out of Stiles's mouth.

Stiles's vertigo inducing babbling: one, Derek's scowl powers: zero. Booya!

"Tell me you are ready," Derek commanded.

"I'm ready," Stiles lied. It was a futile exercise, Derek would know that he was lying but the werewolf had also told him very clearly what to say.

"You're lying." Derek's voice became exasperated as he released Stiles and walked over to lean against the wall near Stiles's dresser with his arms crossed. "You know I can tell."

Stiles took a deep breath, finally able to get more air in his lungs after being released from Derek's impromptu wolf hug. He wasn't sure when he had started to think of them as 'wolf hugs' and not threats, probably when every guy he knew except for Danny and his father started partaking in the tradition of the impromptu wolf hug. "But you said—"

"Shut up, pack your suitcase, walk out the door, and get in the van," Derek commanded.

Stiles muttered something he thought was under his breath. The flicker in Derek's eyes of angry red told him that the Alpha had heard his 'well there goes the idea of Jackson getting booze'. He'd have to hope that the jock turned werewolf would have had the sense to have thought of it on his own. Stiles was dubious. Jackson might be pretty, but a cunning master of party planning? Not so much.

"Well, I don't know about you wolf guys, but this guy, this guy is excited for a weekend of bro-bonding no girls allowed shenanigans. Go wolf pack plus token human." Stiles said as he tried to force his suitcase closed over the veritable mountain of clothes and supplies he'd piled into it.

Stiles grunted as Derek came over and casually swatted him away from the suitcase. His mouth fell open in shock as Derek easily forced it closed. Well if the Alpha thing didn't work out Derek could easily make a living as a one man packing and moving outfit. He was about to let Derek know about the brilliant Plan B when Derek crushed his hopes for the weekend into a little itty bitty ball, set it on fire, and then hit it with a nuclear missile.

"I said it's a pack outing." Derek explained in his 'Shut the Hell Up I'm Talking Stiles' tone of voice. "Lydia and Allison are both coming as well, they are pack, you are pack, not a token human, it is one pack, we go together. This is not negotiable."

Stiles deflated like a clown's balloon animal that had been stabbed with a pitchfork. He glanced over and saw Scott sit up and even though it wasn't possible, Stiles would have sworn that the teen's tail was wagging excitedly. It wasn't until that moment that he wished he could perform his own impromptu wolf hug, one that would end with Scott sailing out the window. He imagined Derek starting a slow clap of appreciation with stunned admiration on his face, perhaps a little pride beaming in his eyes.

"Crap," was all Stiles said though. For once he didn't have the words to express his dismay.