Derek's tense. Derek's almost always tense, but today is especially bad. The pack is picking up on his mood, feeling it through their bond, and acting accordingly. It makes him feel worse, and so it goes. A feedback loop of negative emotion, and Derek can't do a thing about it. He feels helpless, and not in the good way. Not in the way he needs to feel, the way that means freedom.
Being the Alpha means not getting to feel that anymore.
They're in the forest, training. Derek knows it's only a matter of time before another pack comes after them, thinking them weak, thinking they can take over Hale territory. Derek's got to keep his pack strong. He has to push. Maybe he pushes too hard at times, but he doesn't know how to do better without appearing weak. He can't be weak. Even when he feels like he's going to lose it and break down entirely.
"I know you did that on purpose," Erica is saying to Scott. Boyd is frowning at both of them while he jerks her arm back into the socket. "Ow, motherfuck."
"I barely touched you," Scott growls.
"That's a lie," Erica says, rounding on him. Derek can see her claws growing. "You're pissed because I fucked with your sweet widdle princess today." She makes a pouty face when she says it, and Scott doesn't look like he's expecting the swipe of her claws across his cheek.
"Shit! What- You," Scott says, and he's ready to jump her. Isaac moves to stop him, but Jackson holds him back. Jackson looks gleeful at the prospect of a fight.
"ENOUGH!" Derek roars, moving almost between them and pushing them both back in opposite directions, hard enough to send them flying.
It's so tiring being the Alpha. He watches them all cower at his anger, and he wishes he could just let go. He hates being in charge all the time. He was never meant to be the Alpha. That was his mom's — and then Laura's — job. He was a beta, through and through. He was meant to submit to someone, not … this. It's constantly wearing on him.
But he can't let go. He has responsibilities. It's his burden to bear.
At least Peter isn't around anymore, giving him looks that say, I know you. I see right through you. He's off visiting another pack in Oregon and has been for months now. Good riddance, Derek thinks.
"Did I come at a bad time?" Stiles is standing in the middle of the clearing with what looks like a giant cooler. "I brought snacks."
Immediately, some of the tension leaves Derek's body. Stiles. Stiles's presence used to be grating, but now it's soothing. Familiar. There's something in Stiles that he recognizes, but he's not sure what it is.
Derek sighs and eyes his ragtag pack, who are looking interested in the idea of food. "Go ahead."
Everyone grabs sandwiches and Stiles offers Derek one of his own.
Derek takes it. "Thanks," he says gruffly. He tries not to notice how Stiles smells like sex again. Not like he's been having sex, but more like he's just really receptive.
"No prob," Stiles says and smiles. It makes Derek forget himself for a moment and he smiles back.
In hindsight, Derek really should have seen it coming.
He's been falling for Stiles a little every day since they defeated the Alpha pack, maybe even before that. He should have known, suspected, that Stiles was falling right back. He smelled it on him, but mostly Derek put that off as normal teenage hormones.
So when Stiles leans in and kisses him one night after they've watched a movie together, once everyone is gone and Derek's living room is empty, Derek shouldn't be surprised.
He is, though. For a long moment, Derek forgets everything and lets Stiles explore his mouth. Derek wants to surrender to it so badly. Wants to fall to his knees and let Stiles have anything he wants.
But he's the Alpha, and his secret is a secret for a reason. He knows if he lets Stiles too close, he'll have to give him the truth, and that's just-
He can't even finish the thought. He pushes Stiles away. Not hard; he doesn't want to hurt him, just put him off. "Stop."
Stiles opens his eyes and then frowns. "What?"
Derek swallows. He can taste Stiles on his lips and licks them without thought. It's good. He wants more, so much more. But he can't have it. "I don't want it." It's one of the biggest lies he's ever told.
"I don't believe you," Stiles says. He sounds more frustrated than angry. "I've seen the way you look at me, how you act. I got tired of waiting for you to make a move."
Derek closes his eyes. How you act. Is he that transparent? Maybe just to Stiles. He takes a deep breath. He has a pack to think about, responsibility so heavy he can almost feel it physically. He opens his eyes, lets them bleed red. "I don't want it," he growls. He turns to leave.
Stiles grabs his wrist and holds tight. It feels amazing, that firm touch. "I don't know why you're doing this, but I'm going to find out."
I'm sorry, Derek wants to say. He wants to beg for Stiles's forgiveness. He's sorry he can't come clean. He's sorry he can't let go. He's sorry for putting this distance between them. "Let go of me."
Stiles drops Derek's arm and shakes his head. "Fine. Have it your way. But don't think I'm not going to figure you out."
If only Derek could let him.
There's no one in the house to listen to Derek's conversations, so he makes a call. It's been awhile since he's talked to Fess, and he's desperate for something. He can't have Stiles, or rather he can't be had by Stiles, not the way he wants. He needs to talk it out.
Fess picks up and says, "Derek, hey. How's it going in California?"
"It's going," Derek says, and lets out a deep breath. With Fess, he can be himself. He doesn't have to pretend. He doesn't have to posture. "This job, it's … intense. Too much, sometimes."
Fess doesn't know he's a werewolf, so Derek can't say he's the Alpha of his own pack. He's taken to calling it a demanding job to most of his friends from New York, the ones he still keeps up with.
"You still haven't found anyone, have you?" Fess asks.
"No, sir," Derek says. The 'sir' slips out. It's not Derek's favorite mode of address, but it's what Fess likes.
"I swear I can hear it in your voice. You're hurting," Fess says.
"Yes, sir," Derek admits quietly.
"Tell me," Fess says.
It's good to hear a command and be able to obey it. "My head isn't a good place to be most of the time, and without being taken down, it's..." He doesn't want to say 'unbearable', because he can take it. He can take anything. "It's unpleasant."
"You need a Dom," Fess says. "I wish I could be there for you, but you're there and I'm here."
For a moment, Derek wonders if he could take a trip back to New York. But he knows the answer to that. He has to protect the pack. He's got duties here in Beacon Hills.
"My job-" Derek says.
"You've told me. You don't want this to get out. There's really no one you can trust?" Fess asks.
It isn't that Derek doesn't trust Stiles. It's been awhile since he didn't. There are other reasons not to tell him, though.
"Well, isn't that a telling silence. You've got somebody, don't you?" Fess asks.
"Not really. He's not a Dom," Derek says.
"Have you told him what you need?" Fess asks. "Maybe he could at least try."
Just the thought of Stiles dominating him is enough to make Derek's cock twitch in his jeans. But would Stiles even be interested? Stiles wants him, yes, but maybe only in a vanilla, ‘let's get off together’ way.
"I don't even know how to tell him," Derek says.
"You've never had any trouble telling me or any other Dom what you need," Fess points out. "Why is this one so different?"
Derek thinks. "He's young. And I — I care about him. I don't want to ruin anything." Besides, he's hiding himself all the time, unable to be honest. Maybe Stiles won't even like this side of him.
"I was eighteen the first time I held a flogger," Fess says. "Didn't know what the hell I was doing, but my sub talked me through it."
Derek's never had to do that for a Dom. But he thinks he could. For Stiles.
Jesus, the thought is making him hard.
"You're thinking about it now, aren't you?" Fess asks.
"Yes, sir," Derek whispers.
"You want to touch yourself for me?" Fess asks.
Derek's hands ball into fists. "Please."
"Not yet," Fess says. "Tell me about him. What's his name?"
"Stiles," Derek says.
"What do you want Stiles to do to you?" Fess asks.
Derek shuts his eyes tight. "Everything."
"Right now, I just want you to think about sucking his dick," Fess says. "You like that, sucking dick, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," Derek says. "I love it."
"Take yourself out and think about Stiles fucking your mouth," Fess says.
Derek moans and does it. It's so good to be told what to do, and so easy to do it. He doesn't miss Fess per se, no more than any of his friends in New York, but he's missed this.
It's over almost before it begins. Derek is on the edge and Fess must be able to tell.
"Come for me, Derek," Fess says, and Derek does.
After, Fess talks to him while Derek comes back down to earth, a low murmur in Derek's ear. And then once Derek is back in his head, Fess talks him through getting cleaned up and tucked into bed. It's almost like having someone there with him.
"I want you to tell Stiles," Fess says right before they say their goodbyes.
"I don't know how," Derek says again.
"Email him an invite to FetLife," Fess suggests with a laugh. It's just a joke but it gives Derek a glimmer of an idea.
Derek hasn't messed with his profile in years, since before he left New York. He doesn't even have his new state listed. But his profile is otherwise up to date so far as his interests.
The chair Derek is sitting in creaks a little as he leans forward. Stiles is due home soon, and then he'll know. The username isn't enough to give the game away — wolfboysub could be anyone — but the main profile picture is all Derek. True, his face isn't shown, but Stiles will know the tattoo. Derek is proud of the pic. He'd just been beaten with a crop and the marks look nice on the skin of his back. They'd healed quickly after, but his Domme at the time actually knew what he was. Lady Vanessa was a little disappointed that he wouldn't be wearing her marks for long, but she understood. He was praised for being so good, for only squirming a little while she administered the beating, and he'd felt amazing both during and after.
He brings himself back to the present. He has a blog post to write. It has to be short, but he's sure he can make it to-the-point. Stiles will read it and then...
Then he'll know.
I want you to take me over, give me freedom, Derek writes. The post is basically a letter to Stiles. He's been thinking it over for a couple of days, and he knows just what he wants to say. It doesn't make it easy to write, though. He's still unsure, not knowing Stiles's reaction.
I want to hurt for you, cry out for you. I want you to take everything I give and demand more of me. I want you to take my body, my heart, and keep it for your own. I want to be yours.
Derek sighs. Is he asking for too much? Is he giving too much away?
I want to please you. I want to follow your every command. I want you to take me out of my body, let me fly for you.
He feels selfish saying what he wants. It should be all about what Stiles wants, shouldn't it? But he has to be clear. Communication is so important. He's seen bad things happen to subs and even to Doms when the lines of communication weren't open or clear.
He hits post and sits back for a moment, reading over what he's written. He's stripped down for Stiles. Not completely, not yet, but enough to make him doubt what he's doing. He could still delete the post and clear the browser history. He has time.
Then he hears the downstairs door close, hears Stiles's footsteps as he walks into the kitchen and looks for a snack. Derek lets himself out the window, leaving the computer on, tabs opened to what he wants Stiles to see.
Derek doesn't hear anything from Stiles until two days later. He's not expecting anything immediate, but waiting feels like torture.
In the end, Stiles doesn't call or text first, he just shows up after school. Derek doesn't know what he says to the others, but they either clear out or don't show up at all. Derek and Stiles are left alone in the house. Derek prepares himself to be let down.
Stiles looks as if he's been keeping late nights; he's pale and there are shadows under his eyes. His eyes are bright, though. Inquisitive.
He starts with an easy question. More of a statement, really. "You do want me."
Relieved, Derek nods. "Yes."
"I don't know if I can be what you need," Stiles says slowly. "I don't know if I have it in me to be a good dominant." He trips over the word, but he says it. It's out in the open.
He's probably done some research, like Derek thought he would. Derek says, "I don't think I'd be attracted to you if you couldn't be." After Kate, he got something of a sixth sense about people. Something about his experience with her had given him way of looking at a person. He's never picked a bad Dom. He gets feelings, sometimes, about a person. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. He goes with his gut then. Stiles is one of the good ones.
"I'm not saying I've never thought about it," Stiles says. "Because I have. Maybe not... not in detail, but I've had my share of fantasies."
"Do you want to sit down?" Derek asks, gesturing to the living room. He's hopeful. What Stiles has said so far is encouraging.
Stiles nods and moves to sit on the couch. Derek hesitates to sit next to him. Stiles tilts his head and says, "You can sit on the floor if you want. Or, um. Kneel. Your choice."
Derek kneels at Stiles's feet and looks up at him. He knows he'll have to be patient.
He's rewarded by Stiles running his hand through Derek's hair. It's gentle. Hesitant. But it's good, so good to be treated this way. Such a little thing, but Derek wants to whine his appreciation. But he stays quiet, waiting for Stiles to continue.
"I've done a little research, but not nearly enough," Stiles says. "There's a lot of information out there, and I don't know what's good advice and what's dead wrong. I don't want to hurt you."
Derek knows what he means but he smiles and says what he's thinking anyway. "Sometimes I like being hurt."
Stiles's hand tightens in Derek's hair and he pulls Derek's head back, exposing his throat, forcing him to look into his eyes. They're clear and searching. Almost calm, as if what Stiles is doing is natural to him. "What do you like the most?"
Derek whines low in his throat from the sharp pain at his scalp. For a moment, he can't even think, but then the answer comes to him. "Pleasing. Obeying."
"What's it like when you can't? How long since you've had this?" Stiles asks, fingers loosening and carding through Derek's hair again.
"A year," Derek says. "And it- it doesn't hurt, exactly. Not physically. It just fucks with my head, puts me on edge, makes me angry and frustrated." It's been awhile since he's been honest with someone like this. It's such a relief.
"That explains so much," Stiles says. He tilts his head in that way he does when he's figuring something out. "I've never seen you like this before. It's good. You're much more relaxed."
Derek wishes he could give himself over completely, but it's not time for that yet. Stiles isn't ready. When he is, Derek will be able to let go fully. He doesn't know how to explain that, so he just nods.
"You wrote that you want to be mine," Stiles says. "That was to me, right?" He doesn't sound insecure, just like he's making certain. "I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around that. I don't know what I'm doing."
"I know you'll figure it out," Derek says.
"You have a lot of confidence in me," Stiles says with a slight smile.
Derek shrugs and tells the truth. "I know you. You'll research and talk to people and probably go to a few demonstrations. You'll do your best, try your best, just like always."
Stiles seems shocked for a moment. Derek knows this is the most he's ever said to him, and that he's rarely this open or direct or praising. Stiles swallows and looks as if he's taking in the information. He straightens and says, "If I'm going to be a Dom, I'm going to be a good one."
"If?" Derek asks. He has hope. The way Stiles is acting is right. It feels natural, like it's supposed to be this way.
Stiles bites his lip and pets Derek's hair. Derek leans in to the touch, closing his eyes. Stiles says, "I like this. I like you like this."
Derek opens his eyes again and looks at Stiles. "I'm sensing a 'but' coming."
"Give me some time," Stiles says. "This is big."
He doesn't feel disappointment. Stiles is right; Derek's sprung a lot on him all at once. Stiles needs time to process, to decide, to research, to talk to people. Derek can be patient.
"Just don't tell anyone who knows me," Derek says. He doesn't think he needs to say it, but he's got to be sure.
"I wouldn't. I figure you've been keeping this a secret for reasons," Stiles answers.
"I'm the Alpha now," Derek says, almost morose. "I can't be weak."
When Stiles grips his hair again Derek is caught by surprise. Stiles says, "You could never be weak. Whether you're the Alpha or my sub, you'll always be strong. Okay?"
A shiver goes through Derek's body at the possessive wording. It's exactly what he wants, to be Stiles's sub. To hear it come out of Stiles's mouth is like a warm balm on the frayed, hurting places.
"Say it, Derek," Stiles says. "Say I'm strong."
"I'm strong," Derek says softly. He doesn't believe it, can't believe it. But he'll obey, because that's just right.
Stiles gives him a look. Derek drops his gaze and bows his head now that Stiles's grip has eased.
The problem is shame. Oh, he never feels it when he's with a Dom, not really, but it's always in the back of his mind. He's the Alpha now. He can't be weak, can't let himself go.
"I can't say I know everything about this," Stiles says slowly. "But the way I see it, it takes a strong man, someone who knows himself and what he wants, to decide to … surrender. That's what you're doing, here. Surrendering, right?"
"It takes strength. I'm sure there are weak subs out there, and weak Doms, too. But that's not you, Derek," Stiles says. He sounds so sure, so confident now.
Derek finally raises his head again, looks at Stiles's face. His heartbeat is steady; he really believes Derek is strong, even seeing him on his knees and practically begging to be used.
"Say it again," Stiles commands.
"I'm strong," Derek says, much louder this time. He's still not sure he believes it, but Stiles does, and that makes it powerful.
Stiles nods like he knows what Derek's thinking. "Good," he says, and then leans down to take Derek's mouth with his own.
It's their second kiss, but this time is so much better. Derek is more relaxed and there's no reason to pull away. Stiles kisses him deeply and Derek sighs into his mouth. Stiles becomes more aggressive, pulling Derek closer to him, making Derek moan. Then Stiles is pulling Derek up to him.
"C'mere," he says, and Derek moves where Stiles puts him, straddling his lap.
Stiles kisses Derek some more, then drags his lips down to Derek's now-exposed throat. Derek's heart is racing, his instincts screaming at him. Then Stiles bites, making Derek whimper soft and low.
"Yeah," Stiles breathes. "You really want to be mine." He sounds awed.
"Please," is all Derek can say. He knows not to rush, but he wants this so much. Needs it.
Stiles kisses him again, this time almost sweetly, but with an edge of something Derek identifies as possessiveness. "Tell me what you need right now," he says.
It's spoken like a command, so Derek answers easily. "Use me. Let me suck you off." He's been thinking about it for so long, and he's sure the reality will far outdo the fantasy.
Stiles makes a low noise. "Jesus, Derek. Yeah, okay."
Derek sinks to his knees again and looks up for permission to go farther. Stiles doesn't tell him to undress him; he's undoing his pants and lifting up to pull them down before Derek can ask.
Stiles's cock is bigger than in Derek's fantasies. Not a lot, it's not huge, but it's the perfect size to stuff Derek's mouth. He wonders if Stiles will make him choke on it. He hopes so.
"I like it rough," Derek says, hoping that will do the trick. "Don't hold back."
Stiles moans again and takes Derek's head firmly in both hands, guiding him toward his cock. Derek doesn't need more direction. He licks his way up the length and then takes Stiles in without any more preamble.
"Your mouth," Stiles groans.
Derek hums happily, getting Stiles's cock good and wet, taking him down deeper. He knows, or at least suspects, that Stiles is a virgin. If he's gotten a blowjob before it was probably a bad, untutored one. Derek knows he's good at giving head. He figures Stiles won't last long once they get going, so he intends to enjoy it while he can.
Stiles is staring down at him, at where Derek's mouth is taking his cock. "That looks amazing. Fuck. Can I..." he says, and then rolls his hips, thrusting shallowly into Derek's mouth.
Derek moans his appreciation. His own cock is hard in his jeans, pressing against the zipper in a painfully good way. He wants to touch, wants to jerk off while he's being used, but he hasn't been given permission. In a way, that's even better. He doesn't mind being denied. Likes it, at least when his Dom is conscious of it. Stiles probably has no clue what he's doing to Derek right now as he thrusts a little harder.
"There's no way I can keep this up," Stiles says. "You're too good."
A warm feeling floods Derek at this praise and he does his best to make the blowjob better. Later, he'll tell Stiles what he can do, all the things Derek gets off on. He knows Stiles read his list of kinks on his profile, but they haven't negotiated. Derek has hope that they'll get to that point. Soon, maybe.
Stiles thrusts harder and his cock hits the back of his throat. Derek makes a choking sound and Stiles stills, says, "I'm sorry, sorry."
Derek pulls off and says, "No, it's good. I like it." He watches as Stiles's cock jumps at the fact.
"Seriously?" Stiles asks. "Dude, you're like a wet dream come true."
It's good that Stiles likes it. Likes him. Derek asks, "Will you come in my mouth?" Maybe he's too eager. He feels eager. He feels like he's on the edge of the full moon, the edge of freedom.
Stiles gets a thoughtful look on his face. He says, "I'll think about it." It's clear that he's still lacking self-confidence, but Derek thinks he's a natural. One day, if Stiles gives this a chance, he'll be a good Dom.
"Thank you," Derek says, lowering his eyes back down to Stiles's neglected cock. He wants to worship it. He wants to nuzzle Stiles's balls and breathe him in deep. But it doesn't matter what he wants; this is about Stiles. That Derek is getting what he needs on top of that is just icing.
"Suck me," Stiles says. "Make me come."
Derek nods and then Stiles is fucking his mouth again, harder, until Derek is gagging on it. Stiles looks like he'll stop the first time it happens again, but Derek just moans, broken and appreciative, and urges him on.
God, it's been ages since Derek's been able to let go like this. He can feel the euphoria kicking in, and he doesn't mean to start floating but he does. It's been so long, and he knows he's safe with Stiles, and no one is around to catch him being submissive. So he lets go without thought and then he's flying, every thrust of Stiles's cock sending him further.
"Look at me," Stiles says, and Derek obeys. "You're so good. So good." And then he half-chokes on a moan and comes down Derek's throat.
Derek is aware enough to pull back a bit and let the come flood over his tongue so he can really savor the taste. Stiles's words are crashing across his mind like waves. He's good. He hasn't felt good in too long. He's had to be bad, authoritarian, in charge, rough, decisive. He's done a shit job of most of it. But now, in this moment, he can be himself. He can forget that he's the Alpha. He can-
"Take your dick out, I want to see," Stiles says, still a little breathless.
Derek obeys, sighing with relief as his cock breaks the confines of his jeans.
"You're so hard," Stiles says. "Come back up here. I want to touch you."
It's so easy like this, for Stiles to make decisions for him, to tell him what to do. For a moment, Derek forgets it's going to end, that it might not even happen again. He's just happy, content with a Dom he cares about, who cares about him. And no matter what Stiles thinks, he's a Dom already. It's coming to him as naturally as breathing.
Once Derek is straddling Stiles again, his cock hard and leaking, standing straight and proud, Stiles licks his palm and wraps a hand around him. "I'm going to get you off. You're going to come for me."
Derek seems to have lost his ability to speak, but he can nod. He understands.
"Good," Stiles says, and begins to stroke. The spit on his hand isn't enough lubrication, so it's a little more friction than is comfortable. Derek likes it. Stiles goes on with, "I read everything in your profile, checked out every kink you listed."
Derek whimpers when Stiles twists his grip. He lets his head drop down to Stiles's shoulder. It's a safe place where he can turn his head and nuzzle Stiles's neck. He smells so good there, like grass and sweat and faded soap. He mouths at the skin gently, just his open mouth, no teeth.
"You need a lot, don't you?" Stiles asks quietly, but Derek knows he doesn't have to answer. "I want to give you everything. I want what you said, to take you over. Let you fly. You have no idea how much I want it."
Derek's getting close, his breath is coming faster, his heart beating hard. Stiles thumbs over the head of his cock and then kisses his hair.
"You're gonna come for me," Stiles says. "Now, Derek."
Derek whines high in his throat and rocks into Stiles's hand. He obeys, come spurting over the ring of Stiles's fist. It splatters on his shirt but Derek doesn't care.
Stiles strokes him even after Derek's finished coming; he's still half-hard, oversensitive. He whimpers. Stiles stops and pulls him forward, forcing Derek to look at him. "You were awesome."
Derek smiles. He's not flying quite so high now. "So were you." His voice is still a little hoarse from the blowjob.
"I only did what felt right," Stiles says. "It got easier. God, you sound good like that."
Derek leans in, slow, and takes the initiative. He kisses Stiles gently. Stiles runs his fingers through Derek's hair and sighs, sounding content.
"Thank you," Derek says against his lips. Then he puts his head on Stiles's shoulder and lets out a long, happy sigh of his own. Maybe it will work out and maybe it won't; right now, Derek is only living in the moment.
"I'll do it," Stiles says suddenly, pulling away to look at Derek with a serious expression. "I'll be your Dom."
"You mean it," Derek murmurs. A burst of something like happiness explodes quietly inside him.
"Yeah," Stiles says. "I do. This feels right. I want to be this for you."
Derek feels so much relief he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. He doesn't do tears though, and laughter seems out of place. He settles for a wide smile.
Stiles smiles back.
He's more confident, less on edge. The pack has noticed; even Scott's been friendlier with him and more at ease.
Of course Derek and Stiles smell like each other and sex, so it doesn't take much for the pack to put together that their Alpha has (finally) hooked up with their human. There's a couple of smirks, some knowing glances, but no one seems to mind. There's a general air of approval, even.
It's been less than a week since Stiles agreed. They haven't gone too far beyond what they did the first time. But Stiles has been in research mode when he's not at school or with Derek, so Derek knows more is coming. Stiles just wants to do everything right. He's thorough when it comes to this. It's one more way Derek can tell he cares.
"Is your dad working tonight?" Derek asks Stiles. The others can hear, so he doesn't bother trying to whisper.
Stiles smiles. "Yeah. You coming over? We can watch Road Warrior." There's a gleam in his eyes, something that tells Derek he's got a plan beyond a movie.
"I'll be there," Derek promises.
It's funny how the others think they know what's happening. They'd never think Derek would spend the evening on his knees at Stiles's feet, or whatever else they'll get up to. They'd never imagine Derek would give himself to Stiles the way he has, the way he's going to again and again. They probably don't give the relationship much thought at all.
And that's just fine with Derek; he can still keep some secrets. Just not from Stiles.