Work Text:
"He's...rather..." Laura looked over at her brother with an almost-frown, the Hale traditional scowl of thought.
Derek grimaced, but knew he could fill in the word she was looking for. "Pretty."
She nodded and the scowl deepened. Her eyes blazed red a moment as she inhaled deeply. Laura turned to her younger brother and reached out her long, delicate fingers to his arm. They curled around his thick forearm and Derek could both feel and smell her concern.
"We are careful with him." Derek’s voice was quiet, meant to downplay her nerves.
"The other packs might not be so careful."
It was Derek's turn to scowl. "They will respect every member of my pack if they expect to gain treaty with me." His eyes flared as red as his sister's. It wasn't unheard of for two family members to both have alpha abilities, but it was rare enough that many packs across the country sought alliance with the two Hale packs.
Of course, Laura had forced the packs' meeting to "quiet" Beacon Hills under the hospitality of "baby brother" Derek.
She sighed and uncurled her fingers from his arm. "What's his name again?"
"G- eh, Stiles."
"Guhstiles?"
"Stiles, just Stiles." Derek growled. He folded his arms over his chest and stood a little taller.
Laura looked at him, mocked his posture, then turned those honey browns to Stiles.
The lanky, lithe young man was currently perched on the arm of the couch, shouting at the tv as Scott shot at creatures in a game. His hand reached out towards the screen, fingers curling then stretching out as if he could reach through the screen and grab whatever was in there. He let out a yowl when Scott's character fell and died. He respawned but Stiles acted as if it was permanent. When he turned, the Hale siblings got a face full of large smile. You wouldn't have expected that from what he'd been yelling.
"Oh my god!" Laura gasped.
Derek turned towards his sister and when he found her staring at him, Derek realized that a smile was on his own thick, normally downturned lips. He dropped his look back to a Hale-scowl and a rumble reverberated his chest. He stifled voicing a 'what'.
That didn't mean anything to Laura though because she still asked, "You like him, don't you?"
If it didn't sound so accusatory, Derek might have reacted better. "No!" He partially shifted, claws extending and teeth unsheathing. "What does that even mean? He's pack; I generally like all of them, when I don't want to kill each and every one." If he didn't escape, he was going to drown in Laura's sarcastic gaze. Shuffling into the kitchen, he assumed there he could find something to occupy his twitchy hands. It took a few breaths to retract the claws, but he managed.
Eyes were turning towards them and Derek could feel them following him. His heart was hammering even as pulled down a container of coffee. A few alphas were coming tonight, personal friends of Laura. He brought the pot over to the sink and filled it with water, poured it in the back of the coffee maker and set the filter with the grounds. Somehow he managed to screw it up and grounds started overflowing into the pot and all over the counter.
"Shit!"
Long, pale, and steady fingers touched down on the back of Derek's hand, making it still in his frantic movements of attempting to clean up the spillage. He seemed only to be making it worse anyway.
"Easy there sour wolf," Stiles' voice lilted.
If Derek hadn’t wanted him to, Stiles wouldn’t have been able to push him so easily when he nudged away from the mess, but Derek allowed it. Stepping aside, he watched Stiles' hands. They were quick and sure, and the mess was gone as if it hadn’t just been a huge disaster.
"What's up big guy?" Stiles turned mahogany-brown eyes to him.
Derek could smell his concern even though he was pretty well practiced at keeping a flat face after a few years around the wolves. He made a grumble of a noise and knew Stiles wouldn't accept that as an answer. Still, he would hold off from answering as long as possible.
"It'll be fine ya know?" Stiles tossed the hand towel in the sink. "Laura and Scott will do most of the talking. I’d be surprised if they even want to talk to you for very long. You’re kind of an asshole.” He said it with a smile on his lips, mouth slightly parted so Derek could see the tips of his white teeth.
Derek rolled his eyes and leaned his shoulder against the fridge as he watched Stiles wipe his pianist-long fingers down his red jeans. "Oddly, that doesn't make me feel better."
"We could just ditch, go hide out in a library or something." Stiles drops his voice low as if the loft full of wolves couldn't possibly hear him if he was quieter. There was little privacy to be had in the loft unless explicitly requested.
His eyes lit up with the thought of mischief, Derek could see it a mile away. The slight twitch in the right corner of Stiles' mouth where he fought from breaking out in a wide smile made his whole face... Well, fuck, but the only really correct word to describe the boy was pretty. He was impossibly so and now Derek was having thoughts of his human being jumped on and absolutely devoured by another pack.
"Uh, Der?"
The shortening of his name drew his attention more than anything. Derek was suddenly aware of more than just Stiles' face and he found that he was growling, deep and threatening. Stiles was pressed back against the counter and the half smile was replaced with apprehensive creases across his forehead.
"Shit...sorry. That wasn't directed at you." Well, not entirely. Derek decided that a retreat was needed. He turned tail and fled to the stairs that went up to his designated alone space.
Of course, the pack takes that term 'alone' very lightly. As soon as Derek settled his ass on his bed and reached across the the floor on the other side where a pile of books sat, footsteps sounded coming up the stairs. Derek closed his eyes and put on his best frown, expecting Laura.
Opening his book he pointedly didn't look over.
A solid body flopped across the bed in a flail of arms and legs and Derek sighed. Stiles.
"What are you doing?" Derek gruffed.
There was a knowing smile in his response, "Laying."
Derek couldn't help but correct him even though he knew Stiles damned well knew the difference. "Lying."
"Whatever. Either way it's comfy."
"Didn’t we finish our conversation?" He turned his head slightly and found Stiles with his arms stretched above his head, jeans low on his hips and shirt riding up his flat stomach to reveal a trail of dark hair from his navel to below the jeans. Derek could not escape his thoughts with the boy...man... Young adult... literally following him around. Derek swore Stiles knew more than he let on and enjoyed the torture of his non-human counterparts.
Stiles answered with a quick shake of his head, confirming to Derek that he was just looking to torture another of his packmates. After too long of a silence, Derek supposed he’d missed some non-verbal cue and turned his eyes to Stiles’ face. His eyes were closed and a half-smirk sat across his lips making Stiles look content.
Derek let out a short sigh and twisted on the bed so that he could lie back next to Stiles. The book was dropped off the side of the bed and he tucked his arms under his head. He stared up at the ceiling contemplatively. The quiet was different considering his company, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, Derek found himself rather quickly fighting the urge to fall asleep. It wasn’t often that he was at enough ease with someone to allow himself such a vulnerable state, considering how his last few nightly encounters with people had ended.
“You want me to leave?”
“Hmm?” Derek hummed and glanced over.
Stiles was half-sitting up, putting his weight on his elbow, leaning in towards Derek. “You uh, I know you prefer not to have people in your space or whatever when you’re...yeah.”
Reaching a hand out from beneath his head, Derek pushed Stiles’ shoulder. It might have been a little rough because the younger male dropped back with a huff of breath. “It was nice, when you weren’t talking.”
“Thanks, douche.” The way Stiles pulled his face back in mock hurt was pretty cute, actually.
Shutting his eyes to that thought, Derek re-tucked his arms under his head and sunk his weight fully into the bed. The warmth of another body next to him drew him closer, slowly and subtly. When Stiles didn’t pull away from the contact of their sides pressing together, Derek smiled and drifted off.
“DEREK!”
When Derek shot up in bed, he found his head crashing into a flailing Stiles, their foreheads smacking together and then both pitching to the side. Unfortunately, Derek had been close enough to the edge that the too late avoidance maneuver ended with him sprawled on the floor at the foot of his bed. He sat up and shot a glare at Stiles who was curled with his head in his hands up near the headboard.
Pursed lips and a pinched face, Derek shook his head and hauled himself upright once more.
“Derek!” The high pitch screech sounded again and he had the sudden fear that his pack was under attack while he was just lying in bed.
He scrambled for the stairs and vaulted down them two at a time, claws popped and teeth snapping into large fangs. He could hear the gangly steps of Stiles piling down after him. Seeing Laura standing not far from the bottom of the stairs with a group of new wolves standing harmlessly behind her, Derek came to a quick halt, claws and teeth uselessly out. Stiles took that moment to collide right into his back and end up the one sprawled on the floor now.
Derek closed his eyes for a few long seconds, retracted his claws, then turned to collect his human from the floor. Stiles was easily enough hauled up, so that wasn't the issue. What was an issue was the interested hum from one of the wolves standing behind Laura. Derek's hand perhaps lingered around the thin wrist he'd been gripping to help Stiles upright a bit too long.
"Laura," Derek said flatly. "Offer them a seat?" He was growling though bared fangs which had scared other wolves before, but Laura took the threat with a smile.
"This way," she hummed and dumped her smug lips into a Hale-scowl once more. As she led them off into the large sitting room, a few glanced over their shoulders at Stiles.
"I think they're going to eat me. Seriously do I smell like barbecue or something?" Stiles' hands were fluffing through his hair, lips slightly parted as he watched the pack of wolves move away.
Derek huffed. "No, you smell like..." He had to pause and inhale deeply since he was so acquainted with the male's scent. "Hmm. Like a human that has spent far too much time with wolves." Because he wasn't going to tell him that he smelled of warmth and home and comfort...
Dropping Stiles' wrist, Derek moved to the living room. His normal spot was taken by a tiny woman with pretty blue eyes who looked up at him innocently. He barely resisted a groan and looked around, a bit lost in front of wolves he didn't know. Stiles came into the open area with his usual flouncy movements and snagged Derek’s arm. He let himself be pulled to the open chair slightly off to the side of the group and then sat stiffly in it. Stiles himself perched his butt on the arm of the chair and leaned into Derek’s shoulder. It calmed Derek enough that he put on his best Hale-scowl and spoke up, "Welcome to Hale territory. We have a few guidelines to follow while you're here."
Everyone quieted down, settled, and watched the Alpha with critical eyes. They may have wanted an alliance outright because of the name they'd be associated with, but they were wolves after all and they would only follow the strong and intelligent. Derek was ready for any pounce on a perceived weakness.
"We have worked out a deal with the Argents and we wish to keep it in control, meaning you don't fuck around with them. They are respected as a Pack here, as long as they don't attack first."
A grumble sounded from one of the large Betas who stood behind the couch of Alphas, but that was the only dissent. Derek felt Stiles shift on the arm, digging an elbow into Derek's ribs unintentionally.
He grabbed the boy and yanked him down so that he was on Derek's leg, leaning back against his chest. Stiles was tall though so his head poised slightly above Derek's, chin brushing into his hair. Again, an odd feeling of comfort settled into his belly and he felt like he could talk to these Alphas all day.
"We have mixed pack, humans, Banshee... Be careful with them. While they understand and live as wolves, they are not werewolves."
Derek saw the eyes of the wolves focus on Stiles as if his words were the final invite they needed to gawk. He felt the growl building up this time and quelled it with a bite of his tongue.
He could almost feel the tension of Stiles wanting to talk and not being able to. Those damned fingers started their fluttering, a soft erratic dance across his own thigh. Then they moved up and found Derek's forearm. The wolf hummed a content noise and some of the other wolves drew up their eyes to him, clearly questions at the edge of their lips.
"Particularly," Laura said stepping into the main area. "Don't mistreat this human." Her red painted nails flicked out, pointing to Stiles. "Obviously." She drew her hand back and took forefront of the conversation knowing Derek was hitting or close to hitting his saturation point of other-creature-contact.
Derek eased back and smiled when Stiles finally let loose and started whispering in his ear. "Seriously, you've gotta protect me dude. I haven't felt this vulnerable since the Coach and Bus Incident."
"You're an idiot," Derek returned. They both knew the other wolves could hear if they wanted to, even though they were whispering.
"Thanks. You're such a di-"
"They're not going to-"
"...do you even care if they decide to take me?"
Derek couldn't bite his tongue on this one. The growl emanated low and deep, his eyes flashing crimson. "You're mine, no one is taking you anywhere Stilinski."
The way Stiles' pink tongue darted across his parted lips drew Derek's attention directly. He was leaning away from Derek now, halfway back on the arm of the chair. It wasn't exactly fear or panic that permeated the air from Stiles' pores, but it was something just as rich and heady. It clearly affected all of the wolves as the boy's heartbeat quickened and his blood flushed along his cheeks. They all stirred which drew another growl from Derek. Stiles looked ready to flee.
Everything froze for about six of Stiles' rampant heartbeats, the sound thudding in all the wolves' ears.
Then the movement began in a flurry of bodies. Stiles was the first to stir. He leapt from Derek's lap and pushed off the arm of the chair. It was clear his intentions were to make it to the stairs of the loft. Seven sets of red eyes, five sets of gold, and four sets of blue tracked his movements. Six wolves very easily stepped in front of Stiles, blocking his retreat to Derek's bedroom. Stiles sputtered to a stop, arms flailing and his body starting to tumble backwards.
He made a quick shift in his weight and skirted the table, stepping on the couch and launching upwards, over the back end of it where the wolves had just vacated. Derek watched every movement, claws gripping the chair arms, body hunched and ready to spring. His intentions were quite different from the rest of the wolves who eyed Stiles like some toy.
When Stiles landed on the other side, Derek saw a couple large males dart in and that’s when he shifted. The panic that now pervaded their senses coated Derek’s tongue in a taste he never wanted to experience again. He was over the couch behind Stiles at the same time the two males were grabbing at the human’s arms.
Derek dropped, a fist hitting the ground, his other arm clawed outward along where a leg stretched out for further balance...
Derek roared.
The loft shook with the force of the sound and things froze again. The two that had their hands on Stiles slowly let go and slunk backwards from him. The others shifted on the edges of the scene, clearly still debating. Flashing his eyes at them and growling low, Derek fought down the urge to attack. He forced himself upright and stalked towards Stiles.
Stiles held perfectly still, until Derek heft him over his shoulder. He gripped at Derek’s shoulders and squirmed, “Put me down!”
Turning his head, Derek nipped at Stiles’ hip to make him hold still. When the flailing stopped and he felt Stiles’ elbow rest on his shoulder blade, head in his hand, Derek turned his attention back to the other wolves. “Don’t. Touch. What’s mine.”
They moved out of his way as he headed for the stairs with Stiles still tossed over his shoulder.
“Welcome to Beacon Hills. Make yourselves at home,” Laura said with a laugh.
