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Stupid Peter

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"I love you."

There. He said it.

A wave of relief washed over him and he let out a breath. He kept his gaze steady on the wall, too nervous to look over at the boy in front of him. It was quiet for several moments. Too long in his mind. He inhaled deeply and went stiff when hurt attacked his nostrils once again, stronger this time. He jerked his head to look at Stiles, but the young man wasn't looking at him still.


“No, Derek, you don’t,” was the boy’s response, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

Stiles closed his eyes tightly, waves of distress pouring off of him. “I mean, you don’t l-have feelings for me.”

“I’m pretty sure I know how I feel, Stiles.”

It was then the boy looked at him, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “What, are you trying to torture me? Yes, I get it. You know I like you now! Like, like like you. But did you seriously have to come over and say something like that? Are you trying to hurt me more?"

Derek blinked in confusion. “I...”

“Just get out.”

“Stiles, I don’t-“

“I said get out, Derek!”

The werewolf stilled at the human’s words before he snarled and jumped back out the window from where he’d come.


Earlier that day…

Stiles hurried to his jeep, grumbling and cursing at it when the engine kept rolling over, but not starting. After about the fifth try, nearly ready to get up and pound on it, it finally started. He fist pumped the air and quickly backed out of the driveway, speeding toward Derek’s loft.

He glanced down at his phone before he picked it up and reread the text.

From Sourwolf: Need to talk. Come to loft. Now.

Derek never asked for Stiles to go to him. Usually, if he needed something, he came to Stiles. So when he received the text, he was honestly surprised but he still sent out a quick reply and dashed out of his room.

He sped down the road while also watching for any cops – getting pulled over was the last thing he wanted right now. He pulled up in front of the loft and turned the jeep off, hurrying up the stairs. He was huffing and puffing by the time he reached the top of the stairs, hating and questioning why Derek chose to live all the way up here.

He moved over to the door, ready to pull it open when he noticed it was partially open. An alarm went off in his head; Derek never left his door open. He stepped closer to the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. He paused when he heard two voices, both male. It took him a moment, but he figured out it was Peter and Derek.

“…how you feel,” Peter was saying. “You may not, but I do and you need to admit it to yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek growled.

“Of course you do. We both know how he feels about you.” Stiles stilled. They weren’t talking about him, were they?

“He means nothing to me.”

“Hello?” Stiles poked his head in, not wanting to hear another word, just on the off chance. Neither of them had said his name, but he still didn’t want to risk knowing. It would just hurt and he was completely fine with just being friends with Derek. If that’s what you wanted to call it. Both Hales turned to him as he walked in. Peter looked disinterested and Derek looked… well, like Derek. Grumpy brows and all. “You wanted to see me, Derek?” Derek suddenly glared hard at his uncle, the creeper wolf only chuckling as he walked toward the young man.

“No, that was me,” Peter said. “I just temporarily stole Derek’s phone to reach you.” Stiles narrowed his eyes then jumped slightly as Peter put his arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the loft. “Were you really going to come over if I had sent the text message from my phone?” Stiles didn’t say anything because they both knew the answer to that.

Peter led him back to Roscoe and got inside the passenger seat, giving him a look that had him climbing behind the wheel.


“Just drive, Stiles,” the older wolf responded, sounding bored. Stiles pressed his lips tightly together and drove away from the loft. They both stayed quiet as Stiles drove for several minutes. It only made the uneasiness in Stiles’ gut grow and he found himself slowly tearing his lower lip open with his teeth. Then suddenly, “You need to stop.”

Stiles glanced over at Peter in confusion. “Stop what? The car? Dude, I know these roads are empty a lot of the time, pretty much all the time, but I can’t stop in the middle of the road. That’s kind of stupid. And there’s nowhere to pull over at the moment, so-“

“That’s not what I meant,” Peter said slowly, sounding irritated. “I meant that you need to stop pining after Derek.”

That had Stiles slamming on his brakes.


“You need to stop pining after-“

“I heard you!” Stiles stared out at the road in front of him, both hands gripping the wheel tightly as his heart started to pound against his chest. “How did you know?”

He could practically feel the man’s eyes roll. “It’s rather obvious. You smell of arousal and lust every time you’re near him. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m gonna ignore what you just said and go back to the ‘stop pining after Derek’. First of all, I’m not pining. Second, why would you tell me to stop even if I was? You should know that it takes a lot more than just words to stop me from doing something. But I’m not pining!”

“Stiles, Stiles, Stiles.” Peter sighed and turned in his seat to face the boy, his gaze surprisingly soft. “We both know you’re pining. You’re kind of bad at hiding it.” Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but Peter held up a hand to stop him. “Derek wouldn’t want someone like you anyway.” The teen’s mouth slammed shut then. The older Hale gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re far too loud for his liking. Trust me, I know. I watched him grow up into the young man he is now. No matter what you do, he’ll never return your feelings. You’re just a petty human anyways. No offense.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and looked away.

“I know you all think of me liar,” Stiles scoffed, “but I am telling the truth. You’re only going to get yourself hurt if you try to pursue him.”

“I wasn’t ever going to do anything about it.” His voice was soft and full of pain. His hands slid off the wheel and onto his lap, his eyes downcast.


It was Stiles turn to roll his eyes. “Don’t act surprised. Derek’s way out of my league. I’m a flailing idiot who can’t even defend himself. All I’m good for is research. That’s all he asks me to do anyway. I know he doesn’t want me. I mean, who would?”

A hand rested on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever. Is that all you wanted to tell me?” The wolf silently nodded. “Great. Now get out of my jeep.”


Stiles hands returned to the steering wheel, his grip tighter than before. “You just had me drive to the loft, then drive several miles into the middle of town and told me things I already knew, but made it even more of a reality, therefore making me feel like crap, and you think I’m gonna drive you back there? Now who’s the idiot? Out!”

Peter merely rolled his eyes. “I get your hurting, Stiles, but it’s all for the best.” He opened the door and turned to get out. “One more thing, though. We both know Derek won’t ever return your feelings, but he is rather perceptive. He may even try to be empathetic with you. But unless you only want to get hurt even more, I’d ignore it.”

With that, the older man finally left the car and gave Stiles a small wave before making the trek back to the loft. Stiles shook his head then drove a little further into town.

His heartbeat hadn’t slowed its heavy and fast pace. In fact, it only caused Stiles breathing to quicken and his vision to blur. He pulled into an empty parking lot and shoved the jeep into park. He closed his eyes and squeezed the steering wheel as his chest tightened. Tears pricked his eyes and he clenched his teeth, fighting the panic attack off. But it didn’t work. Seconds later, the attack hit hard and he hurriedly jumped out of the jeep, falling to the ground as he gasped for air.

All he could think about was what Peter had said. He knew Derek didn’t like him, he knew he wasn’t going to do anything about his own feelings. But having someone else voice his thoughts made it so much worse. He felt like he was drowning and it wasn’t just because of the panic attack.

“Stiles!” He glanced up to see a blurry figure kneeling down in front of him. He blinked a few times, but his vision didn’t clear and it made his heart rate pick up, tears continuously pouring down his cheeks. “Stiles, calm down. You need to calm down!” A hand grabbed one of his and pressed it against their own chest, just above the heart. “Focus on my breathing. In, out. In, out.” Stiles listened to words being spoken to him until his heart rate and breathing were back to normal, then he pulled his hands away and wiped his wet eyes. “You okay?”

Scott. Thank heavens for Scott.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied. “Just having a rough day.” He knew his heart didn’t blip because it was the truth. He’d gotten home from school a few hours earlier after taking one of Mr. Harris’ horrible tests and then staying after for an extra forty-five minutes for detention after voicing his complaints about said test. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course. Where were you headed anyway?” Stiles shrugged. “Did you not get Derek’s text?”

Stiles looked sharply at his best friend, eyes wide. “Text? What text?"

“The one about the pack meeting?”

Stiles relaxed slightly. “Oh. Nah. I guess I was still driving when he sent it.” He stood up and reached into his jeep for his phone. Pulling it out, he unlocked to see, yep, a text from Derek.

From Sourwolf: Pack meeting in 20 minutes.

He knew it wasn’t Peter. The creeper was probably still making his way back to the loft.

“Wanna give me a ride?” He glanced over his shoulder to see Scott giving him his best puppy eyes with a half grin. He grinned back and jerked his head to the passenger side as he climbed in. Scott didn’t say another word until they were on the road. “Didn’t do so well on the test, huh?”

“I think I did fine.” Stiles shrugged. “Harris just sucks and can’t take a joke.”

Scott chuckled, making Stiles grin. He could do this. He could totally get through this pack meeting.


Derek could barely keep his eyes off Stiles during the meeting. The boy was unnaturally still and wouldn’t meet his gaze. It was nearing the end of the meeting when he decided he couldn’t stand it anymore and that he’d talk to the boy.

“Any questions?” he barked out, arms folded over his chest as he looked over the teenagers. Heads were shaken, a few no’s mumbled out and he sighed. “Alright, meeting’s over.” He watched them all get up and shuffle out the door, Isaac making his way up the stairs. He looked around for Stiles to find him nearly out the door with Scott. “Stiles!” The teen halted and looked back over his shoulder. Before Derek said another word, he got a whiff of nervousness coming from the other male and he lowered his brows in confusion. “Could you stay a minute?”

“Uh, sure,” Stiles muttered, glancing over at his best friend.

“I’ll get a ride from Allison, it’s fine,” Scott told him. He gave his friend a pat on the shoulder before disappearing past the door.

Stiles slowly turned around, his eyes looking everywhere, but Derek.

“Are you okay?” Derek inquired.
Stiles eyes snapped to his finally, surprise reflecting in them. Derek knew he wasn’t normally one to show concern unless there was a physical injury involved, so seeing the surprise didn’t bother him. Stiles quickly recovered and shrugged. “Just had a rough day, is all. Harris gave us this horrible surprise test that no one was ready for and I called him out on it. Turns out he doesn’t like that much, but that’s not much of a shocker. It’s Harris we’re talking about. Anyway, he gave me detention for supposedly mouthing off. What, a guy can’t share his opinion on something so ridiculous with his classmates?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “As much I enjoy hearing you complain about your teachers, are you sure that’s all? You barely said a word in the meeting tonight.”

Stiles bit his lip and nodded. “Positive. I can be quiet sometimes, sourwolf.”

Narrowing his eyes, Derek decided to let it slide. “Try not to get detention again tomorrow. We’ve got that witch problem to worry about.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Stiles gave him a salute and left the loft a moment later.

Nervousness and some other emotion Derek couldn’t quite put his finger on lingered a few minutes after the teen had left. Shrugging it off, he cleaned up the room a bit, silently questioning himself for the umpteenth time as to why he turned teenagers into pack mates.

A loud huff sounded from the front door before it slid shut. He looked up to see his uncle glowering over at him before he made his way to the spiral staircase.

“You missed the pack meeting,” Derek told him casually as he fixed up pillow on the couch.

“Well, if that pesky little human hadn’t tossed me out of his jeep 5 miles away, I would’ve made it,” Peter retorted.

Derek gave him a blank look as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing! I just had a simple chat and he got tired of me, so he kicked me to the curb. Quite literally.” Peter had always been a good liar, even able to trick the most powerful werewolves. But something in the way he spoke and his body language had Derek narrowing his eyes at the man.

“What did you do?” he asked again, his voice lower and dangerous.

Peter blinked at him then rolled his eyes heavenward. “Why does no one believe me?” He met Derek’s gaze head on, his expression one of boredom. “I had a mere chat with our young Stiles. That was all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going to take a long bath to relax and forget about the brat.” With that, he climbed up the stairs and a moment later, Derek heard a door shut.

He shook his head and glanced around the room. Normally by now, he’d be either working out or reading a book, enjoying the rare silence of his home. But his mind was elsewhere, his wolf worrying about a young mole-dotted boy with a loud mouth and no filter. He sighed heavily, pulled open his front door, closed his shut and raced off toward the sheriff’s house.


He arrived at the Stilinski house in record time. Not hesitating a moment, he climbed to the rooftop and crouched beside the cracked open window to Stiles room. He took a peek in to see the boy hunched over at his desk, his eyes glued to the computer screen. Tapping lightly twice, he lifted the window up further and stepped inside. Stiles was still on his chair, but facing him with wide eyes.

“Dude, you have got to start using the front door,” the brunette stated. Derek only huffed in response. “What are you doing here? Was there something else you wanted to talk to me about? Or maybe you wanted to give me some more information on those witches we’re hunting that you didn’t want the rest of the pack to overhear? But if you did, then why didn’t you just tell me when I stayed after at your place? Oh, duh, Isaac was still there. You probably didn’t want him overhearing, I guess.”

“Stiles,” Derek growled. “Shut up for one second.” The boy bit his lip and looked away. That was when he smelled it – disappointment and hurt coating the room. “You reek.” Stiles scowled at his desk, but he didn’t say a word. “You smell awful. Emotion-wise. What’s going on?” Stiles only shrugged and started tapping one finger on the wood, keeping his gaze steady.

Derek’s wolf whined in the back of his mind, the conversation he had with Peter coming back to him. He sighed and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, glancing at the wall. His mind raced as he tried to figure out how to put it all into words.

Just say it, you idiot! His wolf snapped. If you don’t, I will.

Derek internally rolled his eyes and huffed. He noticed Stiles fidget out of the corner of his eye. Strange. Steering himself, he stared harder at the wall, willing his mouth to work, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The room was suddenly full of tension, whether solely from himself or the both of them, he didn’t know, but it was getting harder to breathe.

He had to do it and do it now or he never would.

“I love you.”

There. He said it.

A wave of relief washed over him and he let out a breath. He kept his gaze steady on the wall, too nervous to look over at the boy in front of him. It was quiet for several moments. Too long in his mind. He inhaled deeply and went stiff when hurt attacked his nostrils once again, stronger this time. He jerked his head to look at Stiles, but the young man wasn’t looking at him still.


“No, Derek, you don’t,” was the boy’s response, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

Stiles closed his eyes tightly, waves of distress pouring off of him. “I mean, you don’t l-have feelings for me.”

“I’m pretty sure I know how I feel, Stiles.”

It was then the boy looked at him, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “What, are you trying to torture me? Yes, I get it. You know I like you now! Like, like like you. But did you seriously have to come over and say something like that? Are you trying to hurt me more?"

Derek blinked in confusion. “I...”

“Just get out.”

“Stiles, I don’t-“

“I said get out, Derek!”

The werewolf stilled at the human’s words before he snarled and jumped back out the window from where he’d come.


It was some unholy hour in the night when Stiles woke to his phone buzzing on his nightstand. Groaning, he picked it up and clicked the green button, shoving it against his ear.

“Hello?” he mumbled into the phone.

“Stiles!” Scott shouted on the other end, making Stiles wince.

“Dude. Sleeping. This better be important or I’m cancelling our game night next week.”

“Stiles, you know it’s the full moon, right?” Scott sounded a bit calmer, but there was still some panic in his voice. The human pushed himself into a sitting position, waking up fully. “Well, after Derek helped me get the others all tied up, he mumbled something about himself being tied up. So I grabbed some chains and went to help him when he roared at me and then bolted out of the loft.”

“Wait. You’re telling me you lost Derek?”

“I’m telling you something’s wrong with him! And, yeah, I kinda lost him…”

Stiles bit his lip hard. His first thoughts were concern for the alpha, then how ridiculously stupid his best friend could be. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Where did he go?”

“The woods. Isaac and I are going after him right now. Meet us there!”

Not needing to be told twice, he leapt to his feet and quickly changed out of his pajamas into a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt and a red plaid shirt. He shoved his shoes on and ran out to his jeep, immediately speeding down the road to the part of the woods the loft was closest to. Once he got to a part where his jeep could go no further, he yanked his keys out of the ignition and ran into the trees.

He hadn’t gotten very far when his phone went off in his pants pocket. He pulled it out, barely registering Scott’s name and answered.

“You here?”

“Just pulled up. Where are you guys at?”

“Past the Nemeton, a little north of it actually.”

“Of course. Why not?” A loud roar crackled through form the other end and he heard it echo through the trees around him. “Who was that?!”

“We found him!” A pause. A loud, menacing growl. “But he’s not himself!”

Moving toward the direction the roar had come from, he kept his phone to his ear. “Scott, what does that mean? Did the witch get him? He’s not attacking you guys, is he? Scott!”

“Just hurry!” The call ended and Stiles pushed himself to move faster. A howl sounded not too far away and not a minute later, he stumbled into a small clearing to see the two betas standing in front of something. He moved closer, breathing heavily, then stopped.

They had found Derek, alright. A Derek with red eyes, fangs and claws out, backed up against a large tree wearing only his boxers. He was growling loudly at Scott and Isaac, his eyes darting back and forth between them.



The wolf lifted its head slightly and sniffed, the smell of cinnamon and honey coating the back of its tongue. It took two hesitant steps forward, closer to the source of the wonderful scent.


A flash of a mole-dotted boy with wide amber eyes full of pain danced to the front of its mind and it shook its head. The stale smell of tears and hurt hit its nostrils, a small whine lodging itself in its throat.

Mate hurt.

It looked past the two young wolves to the human boy standing just behind them. His eyes were wide once more, one hand stretched out toward the wolf. Concern was clear in his eyes, but more memories flashed in the wolf’s mind, rejection clinging to them. The wolf whined, louder this time, and moved back against the large tree it had been cornered against.

Mate doesn’t want us. Mate rejected us.

Whining continuously as the boy slowly moved toward it, the wolf pressed itself further against the tree, the bark prickling painfully against its skin.

“Derek?” The wolf squeezed its eyes shut, pleading with its human side to stay away. Hurt, distress and concern stung its nose and it shook its head.

Pain. Hurt. Rejection. Mate doesn’t want us. Hurthurthurt. Runrunrun.

So it did.

It roared at the two young betas then darted past the human, ignoring the shouts that sounded behind it. Its chest felt tight and tears were pricking its eyes, but it continued to run, refusing to let itself get hurt even more.


“What happened?”

“I told you what happened.”

“This doesn’t make any sense. Derek has the most control out of all of you!”

Stiles was pacing back and forth in front of the tree where Derek had been moments earlier, running his hand through his hair and pulling every few seconds. Isaac and Scott were standing in the same spots he’d found them in, but now they were turned around, watching him.

“Maybe he lost his anchor,” Isaac suggested, shrugging.

Stiles stopped and looked at the curly blond haired boy. “What?”

“He’s right,” Scott interjected. “Kate’s gone. Gerard’s locked up. Peter’s better now… for the most part. The only threat to Beacon Hills recently has been from that witch. But we haven’t heard anything about it in weeks.”

“What are you trying to say, Scott?”

“Derek’s anchor used to be anger, right?” Isaac responded, waiting for the other two to nod in acknowledgement. “Since everything is okay now and what happened with the house fire is taken care of, maybe he lost his anchor.”

“Derek’s a born werewolf,” Stiles said. “He knows that he always has to have an anchor because if he doesn’t, crap like this happens. Why would he let himself not have one?” Isaac merely shrugged, but Scott was looking at Stiles with a strange expression. “What?” Before the other teen could respond, a mournful howl echoed through the air. “Derek!”

Stiles ran off toward the howl, cursing at the branches and twigs that scratched him as he went. Isaac and Scott quickly ran ahead of him toward the direction of the howl. It took him only a moment longer to realize that they were headed to the Hale house. He bit his lip painfully when he remembered that it had been torn down only a few weeks ago. Would this feral Derek remember that?

He stumbled to a stop a few feet behind Scott and Isaac after what seemed like forever, his eyes falling to the crouched figure that seemed frozen in front of the demolished building. Small, pitiful whines had Stiles walking over to the older werewolf, brushing off Scott’s attempts to keep him away.

Derek spun around when he was only a foot away, red eyes glowing brightly in the night. The werewolf snarled at him and backed up toward what was left of his home, his muscles tense. Stiles watched the man he’d fantasized about for a little over a year now, tossing around ideas on how best to help him. He wouldn’t just walk away and let him be alone. Not now. In the end, he sat down Indian style on the grassy ground, not once breaking eye contact.

“Derek,” he muttered softly. The snarling stopped for a second when he spoke then started up again, quieter this time. “I don’t understand. You are the most controlled werewolf I know - and I know a few. You trained your own betas to have an anchor and, most of the time, that anchor keeps them human, keeps you from having to tie them up. I don’t know what made you lose control tonight. What was so different about tonight compared to-“

Stiles inhaled sharply as realization dawned on him. Derek had quieted completely halfway through his rambling and he just glared at him from his crouched position.

“Stiles?” Scott sounded behind him. “What’s going on? You okay?”

A low growl slipped past Derek’s lips as his red orbs moved to watch Scott from over Stiles’ shoulder. But the boy only ignored it, looking at this feral man with new eyes before him.

“It was me.” Derek’s gaze moved back over to Stiles, his growl halting. “I was different. I…” Stiles closed his eyes tightly, guilt rising inside his chest. “Were you telling the truth? Do you really l…love me?” He had to open his eyes. He just had to know. A low whine had him looking back at the werewolf. Derek’s muscles had relaxed and his irises were flickering between red and hazel green. “I love you, too. I do. I’ve had feelings for you for so long now. But I never thought you’d want me, too. And then Peter only made it all the more real today. He told me you’d never want me. That’s why I... I-oof!”

Stiles was knocked onto his back, Derek above him looking down with his beautiful hazel green eyes. His fangs and claws were gone, his grumpy expression replaced with one of hopefulness.

“What did Peter tell you?” Derek whispered. Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to respond since he still believed the crazy man, but a growl had him quickly making up his mind.

“He just reminded me of everything I already knew.”

“Which was?”

“I’m not good enough for you. I’m only human, a wimpy human at that. My only defense is sarcasm, my vast knowledge of completely unimportant facts and research skills. How could I ever match up to someone like you? I mean, have you seen you? I’m all gangly arms and you’re all… you know…”

Amusement displayed openly on the werewolf’s face, his lips twitching as if he were trying not to smile. “You idiot. That’s why I love you.”

“Wha-“ Derek’s lips were pressed against his before Stiles could get another word out. But he totally didn’t mind. In the next second, his arms were wrapped around the older man’s neck, holding him in place.

Derek was the first to pull away. Thankfully, he didn’t go far, just smiled against the teen’s lips. “Stupid Peter.”

“Yeah, stupid Peter. We’re gonna pay him back for screwing with us, right?”


Stiles grinned madly. “Sweet.”

“But first, I want to show you just how much I love every little thing about you.” He kissed him once more, coaxing his mouth open and darting his tongue inside, fighting Stiles’ for dominance.

“Guys, seriously?!”

They broke away, laughing at Scott’s outburst while gazing into each other’s eyes.

Stiles could definitely do this.