Stiles is twenty-two years old and a day post-graduation when he gets turned into a werewolf.
And of all the ways he thought it would happen…
- Life-threatening danger and it’s the only way to save him, leading to a very dramatic moment between him and the hottest Alpha he knows (Derek, always Derek)
- Peter “the sassiest zombie” Hale returning from whatever hole he disappeared into to throw another Alpha-level tantrum
Sex-accident (sexident?) with Derek
wishful thinking? He’s not fucking immune to it yet
- Alpha Pack 2.0
- Magical werewolf transformation
This is definitely not something he’d ever put on the list.
Honestly, he’s been rooting for #3 for like five years now. He likes (fuck, liked ) being human, but he doesn’t hate wolfhood (Wolfdom? Wolfiness? His inner Wolf goddess? Ugh) enough to die a human. Or die without being with Derek, if option #3 was ever to come up. Which it won’t.
Which means dying without ever being with Derek is still an option now. It’s not like Derek’s been holding back on him because Stiles used to be a boring old human. That would just be ridiculous. And wishful thinking.
Derek’s actually been more distant in the three days since Stiles has been turned. Which, to be honest, is just really fucking disappointing. Stiles can’t learn how to be the best wolf he can be from Scott . Stiles was better at being a wolf than Scott when he was still human - because Stiles doesn’t resent his newly wolfy nature.
It’s weird, of course. Like, hella weird, what the fuck is he hearing/seeing/smelling/feeling all the damn time? Don’t get him started on taste, because eating is even more of a religious experience than it used to be. He can taste every single pinch of spice on his curly fries and there is no risk to eating a fucking shitload of them. Like, that’s encouraged. Werewolves should eat a lot, because of his new weird metabolism.
Shit, does that mean that he’s finally gonna get toned and hot? Sweet!
That particular transformation probably skipped Scott - apparently making fun of his best friend is in his DNA whether it’s all-human or all-werewolf. Though yeah, Scott did get the whole “hot girl” popularity transformation moment.
Which is so far beyond Stiles that it’s laughable. He’s a senior in college and he doesn’t really have a lot of friends outside the pack - because, well, how is he ever going to be able to talk about his teenage years without getting committed? Sure, he knows that these institutions won’t be as creepy as Eichen House (that’s a low fucking bar to clear), but it’s not like he’s really interest in being a repeat visitor to any kind of psych ward.
And now that he’s a wolf, it’s probably going to be even harder (just like his dick - which is just, really displaying how sensitive he is now and it’s just rude that he’s been single for so long).
“Stiles,” Scott is pouting. “You know I can smell that.”
Well, that’s just payback. Because Stiles has never been able to smell this kind of stuff before and he still knows more than he ever wanted to know about Scott’s time spent with Allison, Kira, and even Malia (and yeah, that’s just really awkward okay).
“Derek thoughts,” Stiles explains with unholy glee. “Can’t be helped.”
It’s true - it’s not even a lie. Which Scott will be able to hear. And Stiles is going to be able to hear it all soon too - as soon as he figures it out and learns how to tune out other stuff. All by himself, because Scott has been zero help so far. Or, like, negative help.
Wait, Stiles is going to be able to hear it when his Dad is lying about cheating on his doctor-approved foods. This is a glorious day.
And yep, he can also hear his own heartbeat. That’s just weirdly awesome.
“Okay Scotty,” Stiles is going to give Scott one more chance to be helpful. “So I’ve got this anchor thing all figured out. Now how do you do the whole scenting thing?”
There’s just so much happening right now - and that’s not just talking about the things he’s getting off Scott. (Sweat being one of them, and ugh, he thought they’d moved on from locker room stink by now - it’s been a few years since high school lacrosse.) There’s a slightly sour hint to his scent that Stiles really wants an explanation for.
“All figured out?” Scott was having some hearing issues, apparently.
“Yeah, dude,” Stiles shrugs, because…well…
What, like it’s hard?
“I hate you,” Scott is pouting.
But Stiles is just weirdly distracted by the odd thump he hears when Scott says that. Is that? Did he just? Has he figured out what it sounds like when Scotty is lying? Because clearly his best friend is lying about hating him - Scotty has better taste than that, usually (yes, Stiles will never stop lording the Theo thing over Scott’s head).
“Lie,” Stiles tells him, triumphant. “I heard that.”
Ain’t that a kick in the head? As one of those old-fashioned singers would say. Something about being a werewolf is just really driving it home for him, that it’s just really fucking cool. Yeah, he’s still not wild about the ridiculous facial hair (but at least he still has eyebrows so suck it Derek), but all of these extra senses are killing him with awesome.
He might actually be able to do half of the cool stunts he’s seen Derek pull off. And since Stiles is about twice as extra as Derek on a good day, he has to fucking try. All of them. It’s not going to impress Derek, probably, but holy hell Stiles is going to impress himself.
“How are you miracle wolf right away?” Scott is still pouting.
“Because I’m better than you,” Stiles doesn’t even try not to be a little smug about it. “Clearly.”
Is he lying? No. He can hear that he’s not lying. And it’s kind of everything, because Scott can hear that too, and yeah he’s being shitty, but objectively Stiles is killing it at this whole creature of the night thing. No need to pelt him with lacrosse balls, no sir.
Though he will absolutely sign up for training sessions with Derek, all hot and sweaty, telling him all about the bite being a gift. Like, Stiles is up for that in several different ways.
To Big Guy: Once again I’m better than Scott.
To Big Guy: Or he’s just a terrible liar.
To Big Guy: Probably both.
To Big Guy: Unless you have an argument to the contrary?
To Big Guy: Where is my speech, Alpha? About the bite being a gift? I was expecting you (being super extra about vaulting your way into my dorm) three days ago.
To Big Guy: I demand a speech, Derek. You’re my Yoda now.
He manages to get back to Beacon Hills before the next full moon - because no one actually wants Stiles to run through Berkeley unchecked. Not even Derek, who’s barely sent more than a perfunctory “welcome to the pack” text.
Which is just rude. And he thought he’d trained Derek out of that, Pavlov style.
“Alpha my Alpha, wherefore art thou Derek?” Stiles climbs through the window of Derek’s apartment, because payback is sweet. “And yeah, I know that’s not the same as asking where you are, but I feel like I’m climbing onto a balcony or something. With my badass wolf powers. Which are the baddest of badassness. Derek, being a werewolf is kind of awesome.”
Sure, he didn’t actually intend to ever become a werewolf, but now that he is… He isn’t exactly mourning his fragile human state. Maybe this way his friends won’t have to trouble themselves saving his pale ass all the time. Or well, maybe they’ll have to save it in different ways, because wolfsbane is kind of a thing, and mountain ash could be a problem - but Lydia is a certified genius and they’ll figure something out.
Right now he’s just trying to figure out why on earth Derek’s apartment smells so good that he just wants to rub up against the scent and lick it and whoah… Wolf instincts are no joke.
“Something smells really good,” he remarks, because he says everything he’s thinking. “Are you cooking or baking or something? Because I’d definitely eat this. Smells delicious, and I’m pretty much always starving these days. It’s like I’m having another growth spurt.”
He isn’t, which kind of such because that last inch or so of height between him and Derek would be much cooler if Stiles were the taller one. Not that that’s ever going to happen. It’s fine, Stiles can deal. He’s been dealing with Derek’s… everything for about five years now. More like struggling to deal, but he’s been dealing.
By jerking off a ton and doing a lot of wishful thinking, but hey, if it works.
And it does work, because it’s gotten him here, leaping into Derek’s apartment through the window, grinning at his Alpha all smug-like.
“Why didn’t you use the door?” Derek clearly does not get it.
“Did you, cousin Miguel?” Stiles is just going for the gold today. “Sorry, I’m having one hell of a flashback right now. Only the roles were reversed. Is this where I buy a leather jacket and scowl at you threateningly? Do I threaten to rip your throat out with my teeth? Do I take my shirt off a lot and do one-handed push-ups and angry pull-ups? Teach me your ways!”
It doesn’t matter that Derek hasn’t invited him in - because this is payback and Stiles has been surprised many a time by a wolf at the window. And doesn’t that just sound like the title of a supernatural romance novel, with a teenage Bella Swan-esque frowning protagonist who is basically stalked by a completely different creature of the night (a not so sparkly one). She has no idea that the wolf is in love with her, even though he shows every sign.
Yeah, he should write that (under a pseudonym, naturally, because no way is he putting his real name on anything) and make millions.
“Why are you here, Stiles?” Derek asks, as if Stiles hasn’t just explained that.
And Derek has werewolf hearing too, so clearly he’s heard everything that Stiles has been saying for the past couple of minutes. It’s nothing all that embarrassing, not in comparison to the shit’s Derek already heard him say over the course of the last five years, so Stiles is happy to stand here and wait for Derek. While he tries to figure out what the fuck that smell is and where it’s coming from, because he wants to roll around in it and lick it and have its babies or something physically impossible like that. It smells like everything right in the world, and it’s in the apartment somewhere - and Stiles can’t figure it out.
Which sucks, because Stiles is the master of figuring stuff out.
“Reporting for duty, Alpha,” Stiles salutes sloppily just as Derek finally walks into the room. “I figured I’d save you the trouble of hunting me down to give me the whole bite is a gift speech. I can’t believe I thought you were wrong about that. I mean, I may not be thrilled about the gift-giver, but I get it now. Under the right circumstances, unlike your creepy uncle’s attack on Scott, this is a gift. I can protect people now. I can keep my Dad safe.”
So maybe Stiles doesn’t understand why Scott seemed to think becoming a werewolf was such an issue. Sure, Stiles isn’t dating the daughter of hunters, but if he had a physical ailment and being a wolf cleared it up? Well, he would have been a whole lot more grateful about that - because Stiles knows that lycanthropy doesn’t make a monster. A man does.
“You’ll make a good wolf,” Derek says, awkwardly, hesitantly.
And he’s not lying about it either, which he can still hear (suck it, Scotty!). Derek actually believes that Stiles is going to be good at this, and that’s a whole lot more faith than he’s gotten from his best friend. Still, he knows that’s not fair to Scott. Derek was born with this, Scott… Well, clearly it’s Maybelline. And a painful memory for him.
(Tied up in Allison, someone they all still miss, even Derek.)
“Already am,” Stiles thinks he can be forgiven for being smug. “But I’ll be a great wolf after you train me. Help me, Derek-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope. And a scruffy badass mentor.”
Derek would rock the Jedi look, and he’d be fucking fierce with a lightsaber. He wouldn’t be all that great at the calm and collected and balanced thing - though, to be fair, that’s mostly Old Derek now. The one from when his sister just died and he was lashing out. The person he’s grown into over the course of the last few years would be an awesome Jedi.
“Yoda was the better comparison,” Derek gets a bit snippy.
Stiles is too busy trying not to have an inappropriate boner at Derek’s Star Wars knowledge to call him out on how rude he just sounded.
“Yeah, you know I’d never go Dark Side,” Stiles breathlessly responds. “Even though they apparently have cookies. Probably not as good as your cookies, though.”
Yeah, has he mentioned that Derek is also good at cooking, and at making cookies? Actual pastries don’t usually go his away, but he has somehow memorized Stephen Hale’s old cookie recipes and those are too delicious for words. Also, the brownies. Any and all variations of them - because Derek may only be able to make a few dessert options, the ones he does know how to make are glorious. And don’t get Stiles started on dinner at Derek’s.
Fuck, he’s hungry again. That’s gonna get old real quick.
“I can hear your stomach rumbling,” Derek is not body-shy. “Have you figured out how much you need to eat yet? Have you just been eating human portions?”
Stiles looks at him fondly, because he’s good at this, no matter how much he may still try to deny it. Derek is a good Alpha now - he has worked really hard to take care of his pack and treat them as friends and family rather than soldiers in his war against the world. He’s learned to trust their opinions and learned to let them all voice their concerns about plans or even about stupid stuff. Stiles wonders if Derek knows just how lucky they all are that he stuck around.
“I’m a good wolf, remember?” Stiles tries to temper Derek’s actual worry over him. “I’ve been eating about twice as much as I usually do, but I’m a bit more active as well, and I haven’t quite figured out just how much I need. It’s only been a few days - but since you’ve clearly agreed that you’re going to be my Yoda… Great Alpha you are.”
He even does the Yoda voice, because even as a werewolf he is still a trainwreck in front of the hottest werewolf of his acquaintance. Yes, that’s objectifying Derek, and that’s definitely not all there is to Stiles’ pathetic on-and-off crush on Derek that has lasted like five years. The trainwreck thing has been pretty permanent though.
Stiles Stilinski, permanent mess in front of the guy he’s crushing on. Not even lycanthropy could fix that.
“Shut up, Stiles,” that sure sounds a lot more fond these days.
“Did I mention that something smells good in here?” Stiles thinks that bears repeating, because damn . “Because this wolfy scent thing is no joke. I probably followed my nose all over my house to find all the junk food Dad has been hiding from me. Oh man, I would have made a dog joke before, but now it’s just… Not nearly as fun.”
That is disproportionately disappointing - like, it shouldn’t matter that much that it’s no longer fun to make stupid jokes about the pack’s more canine traits. But it’s a reminder that he’s really one of them now, and while that’s a wonderful and marvellous thing, having a tangible reminder that he really isn’t human anymore is… slightly scary. Is he ever going to stop being super aware that he’s a wolf now? Is this going to feel natural at some point?
Derek just gives him the “you’re an idiot, Stiles” look that he’s perfected.
“How did your Dad take it?” Derek still sounds off, a bit.
There’s a different hint to his scent now, something sour and… Worry? Is that worry? Is that what worrying smells like? No wonder that scent had been all over his Dad.
“I mean,” Stiles tries to put it into words in a way that Derek might be able to understand. “I think me coming out was more of an issue than this. Not that he’s homophobic or anything, he just really did not know all that much about bisexuality and then he did a bunch of reading and was aggressively okay with it for a while until he was just normal about it. I think he’s been expecting that the wolf thing would happen at some point. Just not yet, apparently.”
His Dad had said something about Derek at first, and Stiles’d had to shut that shit down right away because his Dad was not allowed to adopt Derek as a son in law until Stiles was actually dating Derek. He didn’t phrase it quite that way to his Dad, though.
“That’s good,” Derek looks flushed.
Stiles can smell a hint of sweat that had not been there before, and he wonders if Derek is about to drop some kind of metaphorical bomb on him. Because the worry scent is there, but also something softer like relief, and then sweat, and something like… confusion?
Smelling emotions has got to be the weirdest thing about being a wolf.
“There was a very awkward question about knotting though,” Stiles promptly puts his foot in his mouth because he is just that guy. “But don’t worry, I put him straight.”
The sweat smell gets a bit heavier, and Derek looks even more flushed now. That other thing he’s smelling might be something like embarrassment, even though that doesn’t seem like the right word for how soft it smells. Yes, scents have a distinct feel. Shut up, he knows being a werewolf is ridiculous. Explaining it is just so bizarre. Even when it’s Derek.
Derek grew up with this - he’s always been like this.
“Do you ever think before you speak?” Derek sighs.
It sounds a lot more fond than it used to, and Stiles is starting to figure out the scent of fondness, composed of several different elements that make up Derek’s particular brand of fond: a teaspoon of annoyance, a dash of frustration, a generous helping of happiness, a more than heavy portion of pride, and something that’s all warm feelings. Stiles doesn’t want to name that one. That would get… awkward. Real quickly.
“No time,” Stiles has to crack the joke. “My brain and mouth move too fast.”
Wait, is Derek looking at his mouth now?
There is a new scent in the room, or well, it’s been there the whole time but it’s heavier now, like thick syrupy caramel all around. It’s delicious. Stiles can practically taste it.
“How’s your anchor?” Derek goes back to professional Alpha mode and Stiles pretends not to be disappointed. “Better than Scott’s, or so I heard. What do you need my help with?”
Thanks for recognizing that Stiles is the superior wolf here, Derek. Thanks for at least reading the stupid texts, even though he’s barely been responding since he heard the news. Which is, that just kind of bums him out because he’s always thought that Derek would like him better as a wolf. Right now, it just doesn’t feel like Derek likes him much at all.
He’s treating Stiles with the utmost professionalism, like a new Beta. Like a stranger.
And because Stiles is a little shit, he has to break through that veneer of professionalism - and not in a subtle way. He is just going to bulldoze right through and get them both back to their normal levels of awkward banter and stupid jokes.
Because Derek is hilarious and Stiles is probably the only one who knows.
“Can we spar?” Stiles suddenly finds the perfect question. “Scott was too scared.”
No blip in his heartbeat, because it is all completely true. Scott is way too used to holding back around Stiles, because Stiles is just the breakable human buddy. Derek will be able to turn that off - he’s fought all of the Betas many a time. Because how else are they going to improve?
It will be his first time fighting Stiles though, because he’s used to sitting on the sidelines, taking notes about fighting style and abilities so that the pack could be placed in their most advantageous positions when another enemy slash monster slash evil human showed up. And yes, he says “when” on purpose, because this is Beacon Hills after all.
There is no “if” here.
“I’m still stronger than you, Stiles,” Derek is warning him, which ugh.
“I know I’m not an Alpha,” Stiles makes a point of rolling his eyes at Derek and then sniffing out that lovely smell of fondness. “But I can surprise you. I’m lithe. I’m wiry. I’m 152 pounds of badass werewolf and I’m only gonna get more buff. Not as buff as you, but I could do it.”
The scent of fondness gets even stronger, now with a hint of that syrupy caramel that Stiles had liked so much before. Stiles takes a deep breath and tries to inhale it all.
And then it’s gone.
“I have to go,” Derek says, and then he’s gone.
Because he’s Derek, he doesn’t even use the door. Even in his own apartment, he’s still using the window.
Stiles doesn’t know what scared him so, but the smell of fear is burned into his wolfy nose.
Derek Hale is a coward and an asshole and still fucking avoiding him.
Stiles refuses to get wolf help from Scott - because really, how helpful is he going to be? It’s Scott ! When Stiles tried to talk to him about the scents he’d managed to figure out, Scott just gave him a look that said that once again Scotty’s fragile ego was not able to handle how quickly Stiles was putting it all together. And their friendship was more important than bruised egos, so Stiles would just have to find a different coach.
There aren’t a lot of wolves around that he trusts, especially not born wolves. There’s no one like Derek - he wants to do this with Derek. He wants to continue teasing Derek about the way they’d met, wants Derek to put him through his paces like the then Beta had done to Scott. He wants to spar and grapple and roll around in nature with his claws out and that scent in his nose. He’s not sure if he likes the syrup scent more or the other one. No, okay, that’s a lie, because while the caramel makes him feel all liquid-y and warm, that other scent is all kinds of indescribable.
One time he thinks he smells it at the grocery store in town, but when he tries to look for it - using that awesome werewolf nose he has now - he only finds a faded version of it near the strawberries. He ends up buying a fuckton of strawberries, of course.
When it becomes clear, after a week of waiting, practicing his backflips in the California heat (they’re closing in on summer after all) and being every kind of extra he used to mock Derek about, that Derek isn’t going to reach out and offer to help him in person…. Well, Stiles does the only sensible thing and finds another werewolf Yoda.
“I can’t believe how much of a drama queen you are,” Lydia sits on her blanket, half-reading a Marie Curie biography while ordering him around. “You’re so much like your boyfriend.”
What? Like his werewolf Yoda had to be a werewolf. Stiles had managed to sort Scott out just fine, and he’d known basically nothing at the time. And since Lydia Martin is a strawberry-blonde goddess who is the smartest person Stiles knows, she seems like the best choice.
(Derek is the best choice, but he’s still moping, apparently.)
“Unless there’s something going on I don’t know about,” Stiles is just now breaking a sweat after thirty minutes straight of running and leaping in the empty clearing, “I don’t actually have a boyfriend. If this is a joke about Scotty and I being codependent again… I think we’re a lot better about that these days. I let him off his leash to date and everything.”
To date Stiles’ ex-girlfriend and everything. Yeah, it’s probably going to take some more time to feel normal about Scott and Malia living together (in sin, because Malia clearly is not the marriage type). But yeah, that has definitely helped with the codependent thing.
That and fucking Theo the friendship ruiner.
No, Stiles still isn’t over that and if he ever sees that no good asshole again, he is going to rip his throat out. With his teeth. Or at least threaten to.
Because maybe he’s a bit more like Derek than he’s willing to admit.
“Future boyfriend, my bad,” Lydia does not sound sorry in the slightest.
Her heartbeat is just slightly off rhythm because of it, and Stiles is smart enough not to point that out to her, because she’s already told him it wasn’t cute after the third time he’d done it. In less than five minutes. What? He’s just enthusiastic about his new skills!
“No more blind dates Lydia,” Stiles warns.
The last… however many had not been a success. Not just because Stiles is just a little bit hung up on Derek (yeah, he knows that “little bit” thing is an outright lie, that’s why he’s not saying that out loud), but also because while Lydia had managed to find him both attractive and intelligent guys, she’d yet to find one who was both and also not a complete fuckboy. So Stiles was happy (lie) to be single for now.
“You’re an idiot,” Lydia says it like it’s a statement of fact.
“But I look cool,” Stiles attempts another silly acrobatic maneuver - and sticks the landing.
It is possible that he is just a little bit obsessed with the physical side of this, with the sudden gracefulness that has been bestowed upon him by the werewolf gods. Wait, do werewolves have gods? What’s werewolf culture like? Is it very separate from regular human culture or is it mostly the same with a werewolf twist?
The books have not been able to tell him everything, after all.
“Derek is in love with you,” Lydia tells him, and Stiles trips over his own feet.
He mostly sticks the landing because of his awesome werewolf reflexes - which is a huge improvement over what would have happened before. But…
The statement in itself is not what shocks him. What shocks him is that Lydia’s heart is perfectly steady as she says it, like it is the God’s honest truth and he is an idiot for not knowing it. But how could he know? It’s not like Derek…
Oh. That scent . Oh.
“Lust smells like caramel, doesn’t it?” Stiles asks Lydia.
It’s mostly a rhetorical question, but he has to know for sure. Because Stiles technically has all of the pieces of the puzzle already. All he has to do is put them together so that they make the correct picture - a picture he hasn’t recognized before because he’s always thought that it was impossible. There was no way that Derek Hale was in love with him.
Only he is, if Lydia is to be believed. And she is.
She is also looking at him with a look that is a mixture between fond annoyance and some disdain. It’s her “boys are stupid” look, one he’s seen on her many, many times.
“I think that’s enough training for now,” Stiles tells her, already halfway through an epic plan. “Would you happen to know how Derek feels about Powerpoint presentations? No, never mind, I’ll figure it out myself. I’ve gotten good at all the special transitions, and I’ve got so much photographic evidence. Strings are a little bit too old-fashioned today, even though I still have a lovely shade of green that would look great on Derek. Oh, werewolf bondage!”
He trails off there, because Lydia gives him a Look. It deserves a capital L, because he’s basically an apex predator now and it silences him right away. Lydia is now and always will be completely terrifying when she puts her mind to it.
“Look, if you’re really interested in exploring bondage,” she sighs, because Lydia will always show off her superior knowledge when she can. “There’s a club in Beacon Heights that…”
Stiles makes a sound, cutting her off. Nope, doesn’t want to hear that right now. Maybe if Derek, later… But not now. Right now he has a wolf to win.
Ugh, another great romance novel title. He should be writing this shit down, for sure.
The Powerpoint presentation is a more comprehensive project than he thought it would be, but that’s fine. It’s not like Derek is taking Stiles up on any of the opportunities he’s had to talk or come visit or check on him. The full moon, Stiles’ first, is rapidly approaching, and he’s barely heard from Derek at all, which is just… not like him.
So… The Powerpoint. It’s done. All thirty-seven slides of it, with transitions and graphics and some auditory elements to improve his whole presentation. He’s got a rough idea of what he wants to say - anything more than that and he’s just going to end up ruining it by being too nervous and rambling through the whole thing. He’s ready.
Or, as ready as one can be for something like this.
He enlists Lydia to help him get Derek in the right place at the right time. Because she is a Machiavellian mastermind and Scott both doesn’t know about his plan and is a terrible liar who would put Derek onto the plan within the first five seconds.
Scotty has many, many qualities. Lying, or even stealth, just isn’t one of them.
Lydia, however, does exactly as promised. She gets Derek into a room with him, and then promptly exits before Derek gets the chance to talk her into letting him leave without talking to Stiles. Not that Derek can’t leave, it’s not like that, it’s just… Stiles just wants a chance.
“Hey Der-Bear,” Stiles knows the nickname is stupid the second it leaves his mouth.
“Stiles,” Derek’s scent is not exactly reassuring.
There’s a lot to it, from fear (fuck, Stiles really dislikes it when Derek smells like fear - or more like he really fucking hates it because Derek should never have the scent of fear on him), to some anger and sadness (also fucking terrible) with an underlying hint of that thing that he’s defined as fondness. So Derek doesn’t completely hate him.
At least there’s that.
“I know you’ve been avoiding me,” Stiles comes right out and says it, even though he knows that Derek isn’t the greatest about confrontation. “I’m not judging you, not a lot anyway, and I just… I have a couple of things I wanna get off my chest, and if after that you don’t wanna talk, you can just leave. And hopefully still be my Alpha on the full moon, because I really don’t want to think about the idiot who thought biting me was a good idea.”
That guy? Not something Stiles wants to think about. Because some random guy was not on Stiles’ getting turned list. Derek has always been at the top of his list when it comes to how he’d want to be turned, and Peter had basically been at the top for realistic expectations. Because even though he hasn’t seen that guy around in ages, he wouldn’t be surprised if Peter was an Alpha again. And if that were the case, well… Peter has always liked power, and has always liked messing with Derek. Turning Stiles would do that.
But that’s not what happened. Instead, some rando…
“It was a bad idea for him ,” Derek growls.
And wow, yeah, that’s definitely still doing it for Stiles, the growling thing. He’s not sure if it’s gotten worse because of his new animal instincts, but holy shit is it working. Which means he’s probably giving off a whole bunch of caramel scent to Derek.
But Derek ignores it, or doesn’t seem to realize it’s there. Which is… disheartening, to say the least.
“It was,” Stiles nods, awkwardly trying to smooth things over. “Which is why you’re my Alpha.”
The best Alpha. The only Alpha for him. Scott’s True Alpha shtick had been surprisingly temporary - some kind of war-Alpha thing that faded away the second there was a stable Alpha present to take over the pack. Enter Derek, who’d saved a group of homeless kids from an unstable Alpha and ended up with the power that always should have been his.
Fucking Peter and that stupid ritual. He’d just been hoping that would lead to Derek dying and/or Peter getting the Alpha power. Sucked for him it didn’t work that way.
But Derek is Alpha again, now, and he’s Stiles’ Alpha. Always will be.
He’s listening, but that’s all there is.
“Not why we’re here though,” Stiles continues, because Derek can’t seem to say more than his name right about now. “I have prepared a presentation. It got a bit long, because I’m a terrible editor when it comes to my own bullshit, and Lydia refused to be involved.”
And he really had tried to get Lydia involved in a more substantial way - because Stiles is very aware of how ridiculous he can come across and there’s already about a million reasons why Derek wouldn’t be interested. He really doesn’t want to make it a million and one.
Why we should do something about that tension and fuck already
By Stiles Stilinski, BSc
It’s straightforward, his title. No sense in putting together a thirty-seven slide Powerpoint presentation if the title doesn’t immediately grab the reader’s attention and makes it very clear what his speech will be about. It’s just… good, common sense.
And now that he’s looking for it, waiting for it, the scent of caramel makes him salivate almost instantly. Derek reeks of it now, even though there’s at least as much of the not so happy scents, the fear, the sadness… Stiles has thirty-sex (six, he means six) slides left to convince Derek that he has a solid point here (hah!) and they should give this a real shot.
Maybe the title is a bit crude, but Stiles is almost itching with the tension. The “I love you”s and cuddling would just have to come afterwards.
“What the hell, Stiles?” Derek lashes out first, because that’s what he does.
“Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” Stiles starts in his announcer voice, even though he knows it’s ridiculous. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride. And well, I don’t care who’s riding who, but Derek… Something’s gotta give. And not like that old people romance movie with Diane Keaton. Like, we can’t keep doing this dance. There’s so much other stuff that we could be doing. I have several slides with lists of just what we could be doing.”
Well, okay, so maybe he is nervous and he’s going to ruin it regardless of how well or how poorly he prepared for this. He’s terrified because this is Derek and he’s only going to get one chance at this. Derek’s trust is rare and precious, and he doesn’t want to break it.
“Did you hit your head just now?” Derek’s brows of sass are out in full force.
Fuck, Stiles is so ridiculously into him. Even when Derek is looking at him like he cannot believe what Stiles is doing this time, Stiles just wants to smile at him. Because he’s made Derek notice him, made him sit up and pay attention, and he’s made Derek’s often hidden sense of humor come out of hiding. And Stiles could never fall for anyone who doesn’t have a sense of humor.
“Werewolf healing,” Stiles argues triumphantly.
“You are going to be such a pain in the ass,” Derek’s scent is ripe with fondness. “I should just make Scott my second.”
Stiles doesn’t even need to check Derek’s heartbeat to know that he’s being ridiculous just to mess with Stiles. Because Derek and Scott are never going to be best buddies, and the Alpha power struggle is still there, somehow (not as bad as it was with Peter, because not everyone can live up to “killing a family member” levels of wackjob). If Derek really wanted Scott to be his second, Stiles would do an exorcism and or have him committed.
Because that guy would not be Derek.
Still, he supposes he can play along because Derek smells amazing and he’s wearing this tight shirt and he’s almost smiling and Stiles’ weak bisexual heart can’t take it.
And Derek possibly just suggested that Stiles would be his second. So. Yeah.
“Rude,” Stiles huffs.
“Scott doesn’t do shit like this,” Derek has to argue, because he’s really fucking competitive when it comes to him versus Stiles. “He doesn’t create a… Does that really say this thing has thirty-seven slides? For fuck’s sake, Stiles!”
Oh, right, he should do the proper full-screen view thing. Should not have let Derek get a glimpse of what’s ahead, especially not because the next couple of slides are meant to establish the players, and Stiles has dug up a couple of ridiculous slash adorable pictures of Derek because he’s a smug asshole and it’s nice to know that Derek hasn’t always been this level of chiseled and perfect. Once upon a time his ears were too big for his face and he had an awkward middle school haircut. Thank the Lord for old yearbooks at the high school library.
Of course all the pictures of Stiles are of moments when he’s truly looked better than average. He has got to balance this shit sometimes. Derek is supernaturally hot, and while Stiles is now supernatural, he’s mostly a supernatural badass who’s not bad to look at. Slightly above average, he would say. Which is fine, but like, really unfair in comparison to Derek.
Not the point. He keeps going off on these tangents - clearly his Adderall isn’t working like it’s supposed to… Because he’s a fucking werewolf and his metabolism is different. He’s an idiot.
“It started as a pro-con list,” Stiles shrugs, the movement perfectly graceful now.
At least he’s an awesome werewolf in every other way. Derek has noticed that, and that definitely helps.
“I kind of miss the strings,” Derek is rolling his eyes as he says it.
But Stiles knows he isn’t lying, and so his own heart thumps a little louder. It’s not even the bondage joke he made to Lydia before, it’s Derek enjoying how Stiles’ mind works, how he keeps track of everything even when things get complicated.
“I’m willing to table a significant amount of slides,” Stiles is ready to start bargaining, “if, and only if you at least let me show you the pro-con list part of this. I feel like that may be the essential part of this. But I’m still a little hurt, because I worked hard on this, Der-Bear. I’m trying to do a little wooing here, but no one explained werewolf courting to me. You could have done that, if only you’d been answering my many, many texts instead of avoiding me.”
Okay, so Stiles is not kidding about the werewolf courting thing. He really wants to know how that works, and then he’s going to make a battle plan and woo the shit out of Derek. The other slides in the Powerpoint can wait until he’s managed to lock that down.
“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Derek is pouting, and very much lying.
“Lie,” Stiles calls him out. “You were avoiding me because I’m a totally awesome werewolf and I would have smelled your crush on me within like five more seconds.”
Derek’s sudden departure from his own damn apartment makes a ton of sense when taking that information into account. He was starting to get all gooey and caramel-y because he wants to get all up on Stiles (or let Stiles get all up on him, please Werewolf God), and so he had to do the whole tactical retreat thing before Stiles figured him out.
Because once again, he’s the best damn werewolf.
“You’re too smug,” Derek still has the scent of caramel around him, though.
“You like it,” Stiles gets even more smug. “Now, will you just let me get through the pros and cons? I’ll let you tell me your pro-con list after.”
Stiles shoots a pointed look at Derek, and takes a good sniff of that caramel scent - and the other scent, the inexplicable one that is just surrounding Derek because clearly he is the source of the scent that is just what everything nice in the world smells like. It reminds him of something he’s read in one of Deaton’s books and…
“Hold on, I have an edit to make,” Stiles goes back into the editing panel.
He skips ahead to the pro-con list and tries to keep Derek from looking at it until he’s finished making some adjustments. It’s gotta be perfect.
The list isn’t balanced, not at all. He’s listed every single pro he could think of, with only a single con - because Stiles is a damn Slytherin, that’s why.
Pros and Cons of boning it out
Ending both our dry spells
You’re better than any blind date Lydia’s ever sent me on
I’m a wolf now, so we can be as kinky as we want
I’m almost as strong as you now
You keep staring at my mouth like you have capital I Ideas
I’d like to hear said Ideas
I’m in love with you
Have been for years
We’re fucking mates you asshole you should have told me
It’s true Der-Bear
I can smell it
You might fall in love with me and live happily ever after.
Derek is blushing when he gets about five arguments in (Stiles has been nice enough to make a separate slide about all of the sex pros - or well, all of the sex pros that fit on one slide). It’s a very good look on him, and now Stiles is probably the one giving off that caramel scent - but he’s not embarrassed about it, not like Derek. Stiles is proud, Stiles wants to show Derek how ridiculously into him he is, wants Derek to smell him and be certain that Stiles wants and loves and needs him. That Stiles is fucking his as much as Derek is Stiles’.
The mates thing though, that’s when Derek looks at Stiles, wide-eyed.
“How did you know?” Derek almost whispers.
“You smell good,” Stiles breaks it down as simply as he can, so that there can be no doubts about this. “I smelled it when I was at your place, and again just now. I even smelled it at the grocery store. Did you molest those strawberries or something? Did you run away because you caught my scent? You know how good of a detective I am.”
Look, Stiles knows that he can occasionally be oblivious, especially when it comes to his own love or sex life - but not this time. Not with his awesome werewolf nose helping light the way - metaphorically, not full on Rudolph style - making it very clear to him just how Derek feels about him. He gets that Derek wanted to keep a secret because he didn’t actually know about Stiles’ feelings for him - though clearly Derek could have smelled them on him, the dumbass.
“I didn’t know until you were turned,” Derek ducks his head. “You’ve always smelled right to me, but now? I would send that asshole a thank you note if I didn’t want to kill him for touching you.”
Alright then, possessiveness is a thing with Derek, that’s good to know and definitely not something that Stiles is going to occasionally attempt to toy with to tease Derek. Because the idea of Stiles going to anyone else is just… laughable. Why would he even want anyone else when he has the chance to actually be with Derek fucking Hale? Exactly.
“Can you smell what that does to me?” Stiles doesn’t even care about playing fair anymore.
“Yes,” Derek is doing the growl thing again.
That’s just making it worse, and Derek is probably figuring that out, his eyes briefly flashing red at Stiles. His own probably flash in return, and Stiles is keeping a metaphorical tight grip on his anchor to keep from shifting just a little bit at his Alpha’s display.
“You should have been smelling this for years,” Stiles is happy to gloat a little bit. “I’m sure I’ve been giving off “do me and then cuddle me” scent for years now.”
It’s a solid description, but Derek still rolls his eyes at him. That’s not nearly as effective now that Stiles knows exactly how much Derek loves it when Stiles gets snarky with him, but Stiles doesn’t care about its effectiveness. The sass is still totally working for him
“So, what do you think of my arguments?” Stiles is using his every advantage, even tilting his head to put his neck on full display for Derek.
The mating bites stuff from all those romance novels might be a bit ridiculous, but Derek would still have the impulse to bite down until Stiles gives and… Yes. Just, yes. Preferably somewhere with a bed, and preferably soon. The biting kink didn’t come with the werewolfdom, that’s been there for a while, and Stiles looks forward to telling Derek just that and watching him lose it.
“Mine,” Derek growls, and Stiles pumps his fist in victory.
“Yes, yours,” Stiles is gloating like a total asshole because Derek is practically pre-verbal right now because of him. “Now unless you have any objections, you need to come and get it.”
Like right the fuck now, Derek. Stiles isn’t good at patience right now.
Derek stands up right away, and then he just doesn’t move, visually composing himself - Stiles tries really hard to convince himself that he isn’t disappointed by that, and doesn’t succeed in the slightest - and trying to actively keep himself from reaching for Stiles. Which, to be honest, is pretty much the last thing that Stiles wants right now. He wants so much, and he’s feeling so many things, everything so much more intense than it was when he was just a fragile little human with a thing for the Alpha werewolf. He can handle it, but it’s a lot.
And he’d rather handle something else.
(Yep, he’s still got it.)
“Well?” Stiles is done waiting. “Are you going to move? I’ve only been waiting for like, four years and change, but I’m sure I can wait a minute or so more.”
A minute is stretching it, though. A couple seconds, maybe. A whole minute? Iffy.
“You’re impossible,” Derek strides forward and pulls him in for a kiss.
Fucking finally, GOD. Clearly Stiles’ arguments are solid and Derek has no rebuttal - he’s not kissing like he’s got any arguments to the contrary. In fact, Derek is kissing him like he is wholeheartedly on board with the biting kink and the horizontal surface (bed!) idea that Stiles has never even voiced out loud to him.
It’s a kiss people would describe as a panty-dropper - and yes, it does make Stiles want to immediately get the both of them naked so that he can get at all of Derek’s skin at once and lick the sweat off his abs and bite at his biceps and maybe get a little fangy while they fuck.
“You’re really good at that,” Stiles pulls back to catch his breath.
But he doesn’t need to yet - his endurance is in the realm of the ridiculous now. It’s a stupid little human reflex that makes him gasp a little before pulling Derek back in for another kiss. He’s almost smiling as they kiss, almost because it makes kissing difficult to actually smile.
Even as a wolf.
“About that con,” Derek pulls away for a second, not even out of breath.
Oh fuck .
“Yes?” Stiles tries not to show how worried he is.
“It’s way too late for that,” Derek is the smug one now, bunny teeth on full display.
Stiles tackles him onto the floor and actually ends up on top. For about ten seconds.
Still, ten seconds more than he would have lasted before.
He really is the best werewolf.