Work Header

Erasing Him

Work Text:

Derek was 15 when he thought he met his soulmate. She was beautiful. She was blonde, older, sexy, and she hugged him really tight after she showed him the mark on her lower stomach. The mark that looked like a howling wolf, the same mark he had on his own stomach.
He felt so happy, even with the wolf whining inside his head. He had finally found his soulmate, the quest was over.
Obviously, since Kate was over 18, they couldn’t tell his parents : Kate had said they wouldn’t understand, and they had to keep quiet, at least until he was 18.
Two months later, he learnt that the mark had been fake when his house burned to the ground, killing his entire family, except for Laura and Peter.
Derek was sitting in the sheriff’s office with his eyes fixed on the wall, clutching a teddy bear between his fingers, when Laura rushed in. She was sobbing and she hugged him tight, tighter than Kate had after she showed him her soulmark.
It’s because of the mark, Derek had repeated, over and over again. I hate it. I hate the mark. I never want to meet them. I hate it. It’s all because of the mark.


Stiles was 8 years old when he met his soulmate. He was with his father at the police station, because there was no one to keep an eye on him while his father was at work. His mother was living in the clouds now, and Miss Melissa couldn’t always take care of him when his dad was called into work. So, he was supposed to sit very quietly in the break room, and keep himself occupy with toys or books.
That night, the station was more busy than usual, everyone was running everywhere, the phone was always ringing, and Stiles knew something bad had happened, because his father had hugged him really tight before rushing out of the door again. His father hadn’t hugged him since his mother left them, but tonight he had. So Stiles knew, because he was smart.
He saw the boy, sitting in the sheriff’s office, looking alone and sad. Stiles knew he wasn’t supposed to move, but it was like a voice at the back of his head was telling him to get up and do it.
The boy’s clothes were dark with soot and he smelled like smoke and fire, but Stiles didn’t say anything about it, because his dad had told him there had been a terrible fire at the Hale house, and he knew that it would make the boy sad. So Stiles just sat on the seat next to the dark haired boy, and put his teddy bear on the boy’s lap.

« His name is Bear. My mom used to say that he’s a magic bear, and that he can make the sadness go away. » Stiles scrunched his nose. « I don’t think he’s really magic but… » He shrugged.

The dark haired boy finally looked at him. There was something very sad, and very beautiful at the same time in his eyes. He opened his mouth but, before he could say anything, Stiles’ father bursted into the office, grabbing Stiles by his collar and dragging him out, apologizing to Derek on behalf of his son.
Stiles had just enough time to see the dark mark on the boy’s stomach.

« Stiles, I told you a thousand time not to leave the break room!
- But daddy! He’s my soulmate ! I saw the mark ! »

The deputy pinched his nose. Three weeks ago, the boy had assured him that Lydia Martin was his soulmate, and that they would have the cutest baby when they’d be older.

« Look, Stiles. Something really bad happened to Derek… So please, don’t go bother him, okay? »

Stiles nodded. But as soon as his dad left the room, the little boy ran out, needing to hug Derek, and tell him that he would make everything better. He knew how to make a really great hot cocoa! No one could resist hot cocoa.
But when he reached the office, he saw Derek hugging a dark haired girl, repeating I hate it. I hate the mark. I never want to meet them. I hate it. It’s all because of the mark, over and over again.


Derek was 23 when he came back to Beacon Hills to bury his sister. He was still 23 when he had to kill his uncle and became the alpha of a pack of bitten teenagers. Erica, Boyd, Isaac and, surprisingly, Stiles.
Scott still refused to join the pack, and kept claiming that Stiles was in his own pack, but Derek could feel it. Deep in his bones, that Stiles was his. He had submitted to Derek, he had helped him, he had showed loyalty. There was just something about him.
But Stiles was also 16, so the alpha showed him into doors and snarled at him, to hide the feeling in his stomach whenever Stiles was in the same room.


Stiles was 16 when he saw his soulmate again. In the last eight years, he never forgot about Derek Hale, and the mark on his stomach. The same mark he had on his own skin. The mark Derek so clearly hated.
Stiles had wanted to tell him, so many times, but it never seemed like the right time. And after a while, it started to feel like it would never be the right time.
So he started dropping hints. Talking about how Scott and Allison were soulmates, and Boyd and Erica also. About how Lydia and Jackson had different marks, yet they still claimed to be soulmates, and people didn’t say anything because it was Lydia and Jackson and, frankly, they were terrifying. Especially Lydia. Because if there was one thing Stiles was good at, it was talking, and being annoying while doing it.
It got him what he was looking for, though. Derek snapped at him, telling him that soulmarks where nothing but jokes, and that he would have had his removed a long time ago, if his skin didn’t heal laser surgery.
Stiles didn’t ask how he knew that. He just nodded, and kept quiet for the rest of the afternoon, unaware of Derek’s glances in his direction. He didn’t see how worried Derek was, didn’t see how Derek hesitated to reach out, to apologize and tell him that he’d find his soulmate eventually.
Derek didn’t do anything, and Stiles left the loft, booking an appointment at the tattoo shop two towns away.


Derek was celebrating his 25th birthday, and Erica had insisted - threatened - that they go out for the occasion. Obviously, going out didn’t mean go have a milkshake or a frozen yogourt. It was more along the lines of « go to the Jungle ».
Derek absolutely hated it. The music was too loud for his werewolf hearing, and the whole place reeked of cheap beer, cheap cologne, vomit, arousal, and sex. He didn’t like being touched, groped by strangers, didn’t even like dancing.
The only thing he really liked was watching Stiles, and even that was torture.

Erica had winked at him when she caught him staring at the human, and he’d growled in response, which only made her laugh and drag Stiles to the dance floor, where Derek could only watch, helpless.
He hated himself for that, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the teenager. The very legal, extremely hot teenager. The Sheriff’s kid.
Stiles had a way of rolling his hips, of moving his arms, of baring his neck to strangers that drove Derek wild. The way his too-tight-shirt clung to his skin, the way the skinny jeans hung his ass perfectly, and fell just low enough to show the happy trail disappearing into the pants.
Derek felt his claws piercing his skin.
But he had no right to be jealous, because Stiles wasn’t his like this. He was pack, but that’s all he was.
Even if he was so, so much more.

The club was plunged into the dark, and suddenly all you could see was bright white, teeth, eyes, UV paints. The bright green snake on that guy’s back, the pink flower on Allison’s arms, the white wolf on Stiles’ stomach, the…
Derek got up from his stool as soon as he saw the wolf on Stiles. He bumped into people rushing to the human, still dancing with the fake blond who had his hands all over him, and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away from the other guy.
He ignored the yelp from Stiles, the insults from the douche, and kept dragging Stiles towards the rear of the club, where the music wasn’t as loud.

« Derek! What the hell are you doing! You just cockblocked me! »

Derek felt his fangs dropping, and had to turn his face towards the wall, because he was sure his eyes were bright red. Alpha red.

« Dude, what the hell is happening yo you. You’re freaking me out! »

But Derek couldn’t speak. Couldn’t say anything. He just had to touch. He lifted the shirt.


Stiles felt the cool air caressing his skin, and looked down at his stomach. The skin, usually bare, was now displaying his soul mark again, the dark wolf howling at the moon turned white.
The human bit his lips, avoiding Derek’s eyes by staring at the wall.

« What… »

Derek’s voice sounded strangled, but Stiles couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He didn’t want to see the way his mouth would be turned down in disgust, or the angry look in his eyes.
It’s not my fault, Stiles wanted to tell him.
He never chose it. He was born with it. He didn’t chose to be Derek soulmate.

« I never… I never saw it… »

Stiles snorted.

« Yeah, I had it removed a couple of years ago. »

Stiles could have swore he heard Derek’s breath catch in his throat.

« Wh… Why did y… Why didn’t you tell me? »

That, that he couldn’t let slide.

« Are you kidding me? Are you seriously asking me this Derek ? After I heard you, countless times, repeating that you hated your soulmark, that you hated what it represented, and that you hated the person wearing the same one? »

Stiles was so angry his hands were shaking, and he didn’t notice that Derek’s were shaking as well.

« You had made yourself pretty clear, Derek. That you never wanted to meet your soulmate. So what choice did I have? What choice did I have but to remove mine? I deserved to have a chance too! A chance to be happy, even if it would never be as good as it was supposed to be. So don’t you dare look at me like that, Derek! What was I supposed to do?! Tell you?! So that you’d reject me?! »

The whine that escaped Derek’s throat was loud enough that Stiles heard it, despite the music, and he stopped, eyes bulging, looking at Derek, truly, for the first time. At the way his lower lip was trembling, the way his breath was coming out sharp and fast. The way his eyes were bleeding red, yet looking both lost and devastated. Like he’d been gutted. Like he’d found half his soul, only to lose it half a second later.
Like Stiles had felt, all these years back. Or every time Derek made it clear that he didn’t want to meet his soulmate.


Derek wasn’t sure who kissed the other first. All he could remember was the way Stiles lips felt against his, violent yet tender. The way the boy felt against him, backed against the wall, skin heated under Derek’s touch. The lights were turned back on, but Derek’s eyes were still shifted, looking at the tattoo under his fingers. The tattoo he could still see with his wolf’s eyes.
The tattoo that meant that Stiles was his.

They ended up at the loft. Biting kisses and loud moans echoed in the empty loft, their scent mixing together and filling the loft. Everything was DerekAndStiles, and nothing had ever felt so right.

Except maybe the next morning, when Stiles smiled at him, still soft with sleep, and Derek didn’t have to flash his eyes to see, on lily white skin, the black wolf howling in response to the one on his stomach.