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We Hunt Those Who Hunt Us

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Derek was going about his normal business.

That business being, of course, following Stiles around town. It wasn’t for any particular reason.

He just liked stalking Stiles once in a while!

Sue him.

Sometimes he just liked watching Stiles go about his normal day. Liked watching him do mundane things.

It wasn’t out of possessiveness. It wasn’t!

Derek just liked seeing Stiles being happy and himself, is all.

If it also happened to satisfy his more predatory instincts…

Like hunting and stalking and such, well, he was a werewolf.

Stiles knew that. Accepted Derek.

So it was fine.

What’s a little stalking between mates, huh?

(Did he just think ‘mates’!? No. File that away for later.)

He caught a familiar but unexpected scent in the air.

He looked around and there was his uncle. Peter was stalking Stiles!

How dare he? Stiles was Derek’s damn it!

Derek wouldn’t stand for this. But he knew that he wasn’t a match for Peter’s intellect.

He’d watch and observe. See if Peter gave away whatever nefarious plot he had.

Then he’d tell Stiles.

Stiles was at home wondering where Derek was when he burst into the apartment.

(Yes, Stiles had moved in with Derek about five seconds after they got together. It’d been a long time coming, okay? He didn’t care and wasn’t sorry.)

“Derek! What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, alarmed.

“Peter was following you around! He’s stalking you,” Derek looked almost panicked.

“Yeah… I know. He’s been doing that for years,” Stiles slowly responded.

Didn’t Derek know? He was the werewolf. How could he miss the fact that Peter popped up every so often to stalk them both.


How did Derek know Peter was stalking Stiles if he’d never noticed before…

“Wait. Wait! You knew. Aren’t you worried about his nefarious plans?” Derek demanded.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “If you never noticed before, how did you notice today? I haven’t seen you all day, Derek.”

Derek suddenly looked shifty. Probably alarmed because Stiles usually used a nickname. Only used his real name when he was mad.

“I wanted to meet you for lunch and I saw him,” Derek lied. Stiles remembers Derek being a better liar. When had he gotten so bad?

Man, he’d really gone soft (in more areas than just his wonderfully squishier tummy).

“Derek. Admit it, you were stalking me too,” Stiles demanded.

“No…” Derek insisted, “I was stalking Peter because I saw him stalking you.”

That was true. But not the whole truth.

Stiles decided to let it go.

For now.

“Uh, huh. To answer your question, no, I’m not worried about Peter’s nefarious scheme. He doesn’t have one, well, not for me anyway,” Stiles said.

“But… he’s Peter. He’s always up to something. You say that all the time,” Derek’s eyebrows were doing this cute ‘I’m confused’ dance.

“Well, sure. He is always up to something. Just with me – and you – he isn’t up to anything nefarious. He likes me. You and Cora are his only family. He likes to keep tabs and manipulate our lives so we have nice things. How do you think we managed to reconnect in a city with millions of people? Chance?” Stiles scoffed.

“But– He–” Derek’s mind seemed to have melted.

“Weren’t you listening the other day when I said Peter must be behind all the rumours about us?” Stiles asked. He was a little hurt that Derek didn’t listen to him like Stiles did.

“I thought it was a conspiracy theory!” Derek protested.

“It isn’t a conspiracy when he’s really out to get us, sourwolf,” Stiles sighed. It really was a shame he found Derek’s haplessness so fucking adorable, “I think the real question is how you never noticed him following you.”

And, fuck, now Derek looked chagrined and it took the wind out of Stiles’ sail. It wasn’t fun teasing Derek when he felt legitimately embarrassed about something.

The guy was a surprisingly delicate flower, once you were past his defences. Enough people had made him feel bad about past failures, Stiles wasn’t going to be another.

“Shit. You know that look always slays me. I fucking love you–” Stiles paused. He’d never said The Words before.

Derek’s head snapped up and that terrible, no good look was gone. In its place…

Something soft, sweet, and so very vulnerable.

Derek really was the worst sort of person. He had beautiful eyes.

It was a universally acknowledged truth.

When those eyes went all wide and adoring? But also a little disbelieving and vulnerable?

Stiles challenges anyone not to be moved.

“I love you too,” Derek whispered and, well, Stiles just had to kiss the shit out of him.

It was, like, a rule.

Later, when Derek was ruminating over the conversation with Stiles, he came to a very important realization:

Stiles hadn’t known Derek was stalking him. He’d known Peter was.

But not Derek.

That meant Derek was better at stalking than Peter!

He could feel his lips curling up with smug satisfaction.

“Sourwolf… if that smug look is because you’re realizing that you’re a better and bigger creeper than Peter, maybe it’s time to rethink your life’s choices. Being a better creeper than Peter is not something to be proud of,” Stiles wryly said.

Derek smiled wider. Stiles just said he was better than Peter.

“Oh my, god,” Stiles groaned, “you’re impossible. How are you real?”

Derek rolled on top of him and smothered him in grateful kisses.

There was something different about Stiles today, Peter thought.

A certain… pep in his step.

Probably because he was light in his loafers, Peter sniggered to himself.

In all seriousness, though…

Something had changed. Peter needed to know what. It could disrupt his plans.

Sure, based on Stiles’ scent it was something good.

Still… Peter didn’t like not knowing things. He especially didn’t like it when those things he didn’t know interfered with his plans.

He was busily strategizing how to gain this new information when Stiles stopped to make a call.

Peter had to focus his hearing carefully. He was too far to hear the other side of the conversation but he could hear Stiles.

“Hey, man.”


“Yeah things are good. Really good. Derek said ‘I love you’ yesterday! It was fucking epic, dude…”


“Oh, fuck off. How many times did I have to hear you wax poetic about Allison, huh? So you can buck up and take it like a man. Or wolf…”

Peter grinned to himself.

(He didn’t notice the old lady or businessman who got seriously creeped out and swerved to avoid him.)

He left Stiles to his conversation. Peter had to update his plans to include this new information.

The love confessions were ahead of his schedule but Stiles had a way of creating chaos and messing up his plans.

It was one of the reasons Peter liked him. He’d also known that Stiles would take care of the romance since the gods knew his nephew could not be trusted in that department.

Stiles smiled to himself as he watched Peter walk away, a little pep in his step.

He wasn’t actually talking to Scott. They did not talk on the phone. Text, yes. Video chat, of course.

Only old people – like Peter – talked on the phone.

Stiles had known it would bug Peter to no end if he didn’t know what happened last night.

This was his way of thanking Peter. Stiles usually made him work to get info – which he knew Peter also enjoyed.

If Stiles was normal. If his life was normal, he’d be able to just walk up and thank Peter.


He enjoyed playing this game with Peter. It was the nicest thing he could do for the guy.

Plus, it kept him occupied and reduced the chances that he would start making nefarious plans.

His life wasn’t normal. He’d accepted that. Finally understood that normal wasn’t possible.

Hell, didn’t even want it anymore.

Who cared about normal when he got to be with Derek? Or when he had a creepily affectionate stalker who was kind of like his (evil) fairy godmother?

Fuck normal. His life was awesome!

Almost abnormally so…