Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1070686.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Vernon_Boyd/Danny_Mahealani, Cora_Hale/Lydia
      Martin
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Lydia_Martin, Danny
      Mahealani, Vernon_Boyd, Cora_Hale, Allison_Argent, Isaac_Lahey
  Additional Tags:
      Spells_&_Enchantments, Recreational_Drug_Use, Underage_Drinking, Alpha
      Scott_McCall, Beta_Derek_Hale, Dancing, Semi-Public_Sex, Top_Stiles
      Stilinski, Bottom_Derek_Hale, Underwear_Kink, Fluff, Fluff_and_Angst,
      Body_Worship, Rimming, Panic_Attacks, OOC_Derek_(whilst_under_the_spell),
      elements_of_dub_con_(sex_whilst_under_a_spell)
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-05 Words: 19936
****** Don't Kill My Vibe ******
by Robomantic
Summary
     Derek's has a run in with a prankster witch who decides to remove the
     proverbial stick from his ass via spell.
     Now Derek is in the best mood he's ever been in and he has no idea
     why. He's hugging people and sliding around the floor in his socks
     and getting high with the pack and... finally showing Stiles his true
     feelings for him (at a party Derek decided to throw, no less).
     When Derek finds out the truth about the spell he's under, he has to
     choose between being happy and carefree or being himself, issues and
     all.
Notes
     Written for Teen_Wolf_Big_Bang featuring art by Cybel that you should
     definitely check out over here.
     Just a warning, toward the end there is a description of Derek having
     what could be seen as a panic attack, so if that's a trigger please
     read cautiously.
See the end of the work for more notes
                      [ photo VibeBanner_zps32fc6f45.png]

Derek did not consider himself the supernatural sheriff of Beacon Hills,
despite what Stiles may have said (on more than one occasion). He just liked to
keep things in check before they got out of control and the pack had a full-
scale issue on their hands. He knew that he should relax a little and trust
Scott to take care of things, but as relieved as he was to be a beta again
(honestly, he was), he still had trouble letting go of control.
Scott had given Derek the position of second in command rather easily, probably
because he was surprised at how willing Derek had been to join his pack and
combine forces. Apparently, Scott didn't remember that Derek had wanted them to
be a unified force from the get-go. Derek was many things, but an omega he was
not, and he'd never really been power hungry. Becoming the Alpha had been more
about survival than anything else. Once he got over his initial surprise, it
didn't take much for Scott to see the wisdom (with a little coaxing from Stiles
and Isaac) in having a born werewolf and former Alpha as his second in command.
Derek had settled into his new position quite comfortably, but recently there
had been an increasing number of sketchy things happening in Beacon Hills that
had him on high alert. Of course, no one else in the pack was taking the issue
seriously, due to the fact that every magical happening so far had been
completely ridiculous and harmless.
It started with the literal stampede of hamsters down the halls of Beacon Hills
High School. Animal Control had never been so confused by a call in its life,
Derek was sure of that. Before they managed to gather up the majority of the
hamsters, Stiles had caught two of the little fluff balls and set them up in a
cage in Derek's living room because he thought the pack needed “mascots” and
Derek apparently had NO control over what or who came in and out of his loft.
Then came the grocery store turning into an impromptu bubble party; foam
pouring out of nowhere and the lights suddenly flashing in several different
colors. Cora had come back from the store, sans groceries, with a huge grin on
her face and bubbles behind her ears to tell Derek about that one.
Things pretty much continued on in that fashion. The authorities were convinced
it was a series of highly elaborate and well planned pranks, but Derek could
smell magic all over it, sometimes literally, and he wasn’t going to let it go.
Just because it was fun and harmless didn’t mean it was okay. In Derek’s
experience, magic almost always lead to very bad things. Maybe he was a little
biased on the magic front after what had happened with Jennifer (or Julia?),
but it wasn't as if he didn't have a damn good reason.
“Derek! Dude, chill. It’s probably nothing. I mean, a couple harmless magical
pranks aren’t worth getting all freaked out over, “Stiles said, barely looking
up from his laptop. Scott was perched on the arm of the couch next to him
leaning over his shoulder to stare at the screen and nodding absently. Derek
was pretty sure he had barely heard a single word that had been said. Derek
huffed out an annoyed breath, crossed his arms over his chest, and did his best
to glare a hole straight through Stiles’s laptop.
“They’re not even escalating, Derek. What if you go out and intimidate them and
it pushes them to do something worse?” Isaac asked. He at least had the decency
to look at Derek when he spoke to him, but he was still a damn traitor for
siding with Stiles.
The pack was currently sprawled out across Derek's loft because, true Alpha or
not, Melissa McCall had been very clear that Scott wasn't going to be using her
home for their pack meetings. Despite his claws and fangs and well-honed
glaring skills, Derek would never be able to put the fear of god into someone
the way a pissed off mom could. They'd all experienced that the first (and
last) time they tried to have a pack meeting at Scott's house and accidentally
ended up putting claw marks in the living room wall.
“Let it go, Derek,” Lydia added. Apparently she had only come to the meeting
just long enough to make Derek’s life a little more difficult before she went
on to her nail appointment.
“Weren’t you leaving?” Derek snapped at her. Lydia gave him a sharp glare that
Derek returned with as much venom as he could muster. It was moments like this
that had Stiles calling him “He-Lydia” and Lydia “She-Derek”. Neither of them
was pleased with the nicknames, but Stiles was pretty exceptional at not giving
a shit about what pleased other people.
“Look, you may not see the danger here, but I do. I’ve got a lead on where the
spells are coming from, and I want to check it out,” Derek said. What he didn't
tell them was that he’d traced the spells back to the local head shop. He had a
feeling that wasn’t going to help if he wanted them to take the threat
seriously. Scott gave him a dismissive nod of approval, luckily too engaged in
whatever Stiles was showing him on the computer to argue Derek down. The rest
of the pack barely gave him a wave goodbye as he stormed out the door to the
Toyota.
Admittedly, Derek was not in the best of moods when he arrived at the little
shop. It certainly didn’t help that the place reeked of the incense that was
playing hell with Derek’s amped up werewolf senses. Needless to say, he was a
little bit on the edgy side when the girl behind the counter greeted him.
“Ooh, hey! You’re a werewolf! Finally! I’ve been dying to meet one of you
guys!” She chirped, leaning forward with her elbows on the glass counter
(despite the sign telling patrons not to do that very thing). She was a tiny
little thing with blonde dreads pulled up in a ponytail and thick horn plugs
through her earlobes.
“How do you know what I am?” Derek growled. The girl just snickered and tilted
her head at him.
“Whoa there, what crawled up your root chakra and died?” she asked. Derek
flashed his eyes at her, but she was not impressed.
“You’re the one that’s been doing the spells,” Derek accused. The girl’s grin
didn’t falter.
“Yeah! Did you like ‘em?”
“You need to stop. You quit with the spells and we won’t have a problem,” Derek
stated. Finally her grin dropped.
“Whoa there buddy! Who died and made you sheriff of the supernatural?” she
huffed. Derek had to wonder when the hell that had become a commonly used term.
“I represent the Beacon Hills pack. We have a right to defend our territory,”
Derek explained.
“From what? I’m not a threat to your territory. A threat to your policy of
making sure everything is a HUGE bummer, maybe…” she said trailing off and
absently fiddling with a bead on the end of one of her dreads. Jesus, was no
one going to take him seriously?
“This is the only warning I’m giving you,” Derek said. At that, the girl
snapped to attention and leveled Derek with a fierce look. He wasn’t quite
startled enough to drop his glare, but it was a near thing.
“Or what, wolf boy? You know what? Maybe you’re the one that needs to be kept
in check. You want to be the fun police? Fine. That just makes me the bummer
police,” she said, walking around the front of a glass cabinet filled with
various pipes and bongs. Derek growled and half shifted, hoping she'd back off.
He had a bad feeling Isaac was about to be proven right on his whole “being
intimidating will only make things worse” theory.
The girl cracked her knuckles and took a deep breath and then…
“Chill. The fuck. OUT!” she yelled. There was a short strong breeze that seemed
to come from nowhere, making all the hairs on Derek's arms stand up... then
there was nothing.
Derek stood there stunned for a moment and then started laughing; a genuine
laugh that might have actually made his abs ache if he were human... and not so
invested in his grueling ab regimen.
“You’re- You’re kidding? Chill the fuck out? What was that?” Derek asked,
wiping tears from his eyes. The girl's face relaxed into a grin.
“You know what, you’re totally right dude. Shouldn’t have yelled at you. Here,
take this. On the house with my apologies,” the girl said as she went to grab
something from behind the counter. She popped her head back up and handed Derek
a decal of a wolf silhouette filled in by a swirling galaxy.
“Cool. Thanks.” Derek said, checking out the decal. He looked up and gave her a
nod and a smile before heading back out toward the Toyota. She grinned back and
gave him a little wave in return. Derek turned back around in the doorway
before he left. He honestly couldn't imagine how he'd been in such a shit mood
on his way in.
“By the way, I’m Derek,” he said.
“Phoenix,” the girl replied.
“No shit.”
“Yes shit.”
“Huh. See ya later, then,” Derek said.
Derek thought that everything turned out a lot better than it could have.
Everyone was getting such a huge “I told you so” when he got back. Derek had
great people skills and his pack had no clue what they were talking about.
Derek came home to find Isaac had left and had been replaced on the couch by
Danny and Boyd. Scott and Stiles were in the kitchen and something smelled
awesome. Derek gave a little inner fist pump because good smells and Stiles in
the kitchen usually meant awesome food.
“Hey guys!” Derek said throwing a wave their way and grinning a little at the
way Boyd had his arm stretched out behind Danny’s shoulder, just shy of
actually resting on him. God, they were so obvious. They gave him a weird look,
but he ignored it in favor of bee-lining it to the kitchen.
“Please tell me you’re making enough for me,” Derek said leaning over Stiles’s
shoulder to look at the grilled cheese he was making. Stiles went hardcore on
his grilled cheeses. He used something like four different kinds of cheese,
minimum.
“Oh fuck! Dude, what did we say about sneaking up on Stiles?” Stiles gasped,
jumping back from the stove a little. Derek just chuckled.
“Yeah yeah, you’re gonna get me a bell, right? Now back to this grilled cheese
business. You're in my loft and I demand lunch.” Derek said, poorly imitating
his own usually demanding tone. Stiles stared at him, mouth hanging open. Scott
narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.
“Um yeah. I can hook you up. You want one or two?” Stiles asked, apparently
shaking off whatever weirdness had temporarily taken hold of him.
“Two. Definitely. Oh shit, check this out!” Derek said, pulling the decal from
his pocket and handing it over to Stiles, “The chick at the store gave it to
me.”
Stiles gave the decal a long hard look, as though he were examining some
ancient text, and then passed it to Scott. Scott gave it the same solemn
treatment.
“Are you guys alright?” Derek asked, looking between the two of them warily.
“Uh yeah, are you alright?” Scott asked.
“Yeah… be a lot better if you guys would stop giving me creepy looks, though.”
Derek said, lifting an eyebrow at them.
“Ok, sure,” Stiles said, exchanging another significant glance with Scott.
Whatever. Derek brushed it off as some weird psychic best friend shit that had
nothing to do with him.
“Ok… Well you make me sammiches and I’m gonna go change and put this thing on
my car,” Derek said, waving the decal. The stupid ass jeans he had decided to
wear had suddenly begun to irritate the hell out of him. Why did he buy
everything so tight?
“Sammiches?” Scott muttered under his breath as Derek walked away.
Derek turned away from the still incredibly weird looks Scott and Stiles were
exchanging and jogged up the spiral staircase. He shucked off his leather
jacket (it honestly wasn’t near cold enough for it), boots, and stupidly tight
jeans in exchange for a pair of sweat pants and a black wifebeater. He figured
he wasn’t going anywhere for a little while so he was free to bum around in
sweatpants and sock feet.
Derek suddenly realized there was something he hadn’t done yet, not since he'd
moved into the loft. He jumped over the railing, bypassing the stairs, and
appraised the state of the wooden floors. They could definitely use a wax, but
they still looked pretty slick.
Derek took a short running start and then slid across the floor on his socks.
He had to do it a couple more times before finally looking up to see Danny and
Boyd giving him matching judgmental looks.
“What? Don’t tell me you’ve never done it,” Derek said, folding his arms over
his chest.
“No,” Boyd said flatly, but Danny just pointedly looked away. Boyd noticed and
snorted in laughter.
“Really?” he asked. Danny just shrugged and Derek pointed at him as if to say,
“See! It's not just me,” before heading back toward the kitchen and the
delicious smells of Stiles and food.
Derek was pretty sure he didn’t mean to mentally include Stiles in the
“delicious smells” category, but shit, now that he thought about it, Stiles did
smell pretty good, even when he wasn’t cooking. Kind of like fresh cut grass
and lemon lime soda. Even his sweat smelled good, and yes that was a thing.
Some people had that rancid taco meat b.o., but Stiles just smelled sort of
warm and masculine and... Derek really needed to adjust that train of thought
quick or things were going to get really embarrassing.
Derek pointedly ignored the sketchy looks he was still getting from Scott and
Stiles as he walked into the kitchen. They were going to give him a complex if
they didn’t cool it. He dipped down under the sink and grabbed the Windex and a
roll of paper towels.
As Derek headed toward the elevator, he overhead Scott saying, “Dude, I think
he was serious about the decal… should we stop him?”
What the hell did they have against the decal? Derek thought Stiles, at least,
would have liked it. He loved pointing out random wolf themed items to Derek
and he was always telling him he should buy the stupid wolf calendars and tee
shirts they saw at Walmart or the big truck stop gas station on the edge of
town.
By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, Derek realized he’d
completely forgotten to grab his shoes from upstairs. He thought about going
back up to grab some sneakers, but instead he just headed outside in his sock
feet. It wasn’t wet out and he could always wash the socks anyway.
Derek went out to where the Toyota was parked and scoped out a decent looking
spot on his back bumper before cleaning and drying it and carefully applying
the sticker. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and smiled. He thought it
looked pretty awesome, if he did say so himself. The others would like it once
they saw it on the car, he figured.
The dirty socks got thrown off by the door when Derek walked in. He figured it
was better to walk around barefoot than track dirt in the house. He'd just
throw the socks in the laundry later. He'd always been such a stickler about
things like that, but with the mood he was in, he just didn't see the point in
getting stressed over a couple dirty socks.
Derek had finished up just in time for food, apparently. Stiles had managed to
whip up a stack of grilled cheeses that he was splitting up onto paper plates.
“You want something to drink?” Stiles asked, handing him a plate. Derek took it
from him and set it down.
“Go sit down. You cooked, I’ll grab drinks. What do you guys want?” Derek asked
Scott and Stiles. They paused for a moment before answering that they both
wanted Mountain Dew. Derek opened the fridge and grabbed three cans of Dew,
shooing Scott and Stiles away with the multiple plates of grilled cheese they
were balancing.
“Boyd, Danny, you guys want something to drink?” Derek called into the other
room. Another weird pause before they both answered that water would be fine.
Derek grabbed two bottles of water and managed to arrange everything in his
arms so that he could grab his plate too without making two trips. He made it
over to the couch and leaned forward to let everyone grab their drinks from
their precarious places in his arms.
“Who’s the extra soda for?” Stiles asked.
“Um, me?” Derek replied, bemused. Who else would it be for?
“You don’t drink soda, dude.” Scott said, looking at Derek like he’d just grown
an extra head.
“I’m a werewolf, Scott. I don’t think one soda is going to kill me,” Derek said
rolling his eyes. He then folded his legs under himself and sat down on the
floor in front of where Stiles was sitting on the couch. He realized he could
easily have taken the empty seat on the other side of Scott, but he didn’t
really mind sitting by Stiles and sitting on the floor made it easier to reach
his food on the coffee table.
“Ok, that’s the last straw. What the hell happened to you today? Did you find
the witch?” Stiles blurted out.
“Yeah, but it was fine.” Derek assured him, taking the first bite of his
sandwich and moaning in appreciation. He leaned back against Stiles’s legs and
looked up at him, giving him a smile and thumbs up in lieu of thanking him with
his mouth full. Stiles just stared at him, his cheeks flushed. He hadn’t known
Stiles to get all embarrassed over compliments to his food before, but it was
pretty adorable so Derek didn’t question it.
“It was fine? Derek, you come back acting all- whatever! Something had to have
happened,” Scott said.
“I’m not acting 'whatever’! If anyone’s acting weird, it’s you guys! Look, I
found her and it turns out you guys were right. Completely harmless. She even
apologized and gave me free stuff. Everything’s fine,” Derek reassured them
with a shrug before opening his can of Mountain Dew.
“Jesus Christ, Derek. You’re… you’re barefoot and being nice and- and you’re
not even using a coaster! Nothing is fine!” Stiles sputtered.
“You’re the one that’s always telling me to relax! Apparently I can’t do
anything right. Either I’m an asshole or something’s wrong with me!” Derek
cried out, exasperated. He was kind of surprised how much that hurt. His
appetite fully lost, Derek set his food down and got up.
“Derek-“ Stiles started, but Derek cut him off.
“No… I get it. Just drop it, Stiles,” he said and headed up the spiral stairs
to the space he'd sanctioned his room when the pack started hanging out at the
loft more often. He made sure to grab his dirty socks on the way. God knows
Stiles would have something to say about it if he’d forgotten them. Apparently
everyone but Derek was allowed to be a slob in his own house. How many times
had Derek complained about the coaster thing only to be ignored? Now that he
didn’t care, coasters were suddenly a big deal.
Derek went to his room and collapsed on the bed. He hadn’t thought past the
storming away part because now he was sitting in his room alone and bored and
maybe still a little bit hungry. He rolled on his back and looked around his
room. How had he not noticed how boring his room was? Just bare brick walls. No
wonder he never came in here when he wasn’t going to sleep. Maybe he should get
a couple posters or a TV or something.
Derek had made a point of not listening to what the others were whispering
after he walked away. He didn’t really feel like hearing any more complaints
about his weird attitude and apparently shocking lack of footwear. He couldn’t,
however, ignore the sound of Stiles coming up the stairs.
“Derek? Can I come in?” he said, standing at the top of the stairs. God,
sometimes Derek really wished he had a door because he was pretty sure he
looked every bit the part of a teenage girl throwing a temper tantrum, the way
he was hanging listlessly across his bed.
“I guess,” Derek grumbled. His acquiescence to Stiles’s request may have had
more than a little to do with the fact that Stiles had brought Derek’s sandwich
up with him.
“Here, I come bearing sammiches,” Stiles said, sitting down at the edge of the
bed and passing over Derek’s lunch. Derek narrowed his eyes for a moment and
then accepted the plate.
“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek grumbled, already scarfing down the rest of
his grilled cheese.
“I just wanted to come apologize. I didn’t mean to be a dick. You just… caught
us off guard. I mean, you come back from seeing a witch and you’re acting all…
different. What were we supposed to think?”
“You do realize how much it sucks that me acting nice and enjoying myself is
apparently a sign of magical interference, right?” Derek said; his mouth still
half full.
“Yeah, I guess. It just seemed really out of the blue, ya know?” Stiles said.
“Well you guys were kind of hassling me about being uptight and intimidating,
right before I left,” Derek pointed out.
“Yeah, I guess we do give you a lot of shit,” Stiles admitted.
“You know, it’s not like I want to be the bad guy. I just feel like I still
have a lot of responsibility for this pack. I worry about everything all the
time. I feel like it’s my job to be the bad guy, whether I want to or not.
Apparently all I was doing was making everyone hate me,” Derek said, setting
the emptied paper plate on the floor next to his bed and leaning back against
his headboard.
“Dude, we don’t hate you. No one hates you. We just don’t want you to go crazy
and snap from stress. Honestly, if you’re trying to chill out, I’m happy for
you! Chilling out is excellent. I shouldn’t have bitched at you for it. I was
just worried,” Stiles said, nudging his elbow into Derek’s knee. Derek nodded.
“So are we cool?” Stiles asked. Derek rolled his eyes and instead of answering
pulled Stiles in for a hug. Stiles sputtered for a second before relaxing into
the hug. Damn… Stiles really did smell good.
“We’re cool,” Derek said. Stiles gave him an awkward pat on the back before
pulling away from the hug, his face flushed once again. Ok, admittedly Derek
didn’t exactly have a history of being free with the physical affection, but
Stiles would just have to get used to it because Derek really wanted to do that
again. Soon. In fact, he had to stop himself from immediately pulling Stiles
back in again because he knew two hugs in a row would definitely freak Stiles
out.
“You coming back downstairs?” Stiles asked, standing up and awkwardly rubbing
at the back of his head. Derek nodded and got up off the bed. He grabbed his
paper plate and threw it away before heading back into the living room.
Naturally everyone was giving him sheepish looks because they’d heard the
entire conversation he’d had with Stiles.
“Hey, sorry if we were being dicks,” Scott said from behind a mouthful of
melted cheese.
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t really have room to talk, ya know?” Derek said.
He went and sat back in his previous spot, this time not hesitating to lean
against Stiles’s legs. After all, they’d hugged so the casual physical contact
dam had already been broken.
Derek noticed the pointed look Danny and Boyd were giving him from the loveseat
and he made a point of flipping them off to where Stiles wouldn’t notice it. He
could feel his face flushing, but he ignored it. Like Danny and Boyd had room
to judge him with the way they were plastered against each others’ sides. Danny
snorted in laughter at Derek’s obvious embarrassment.
“What’s so funny?” Stiles asked, peeling his eyes away from the movie.
“Oh, nothing. Just thought of something funny,” Danny said, still giving Derek
an obnoxiously smug smile. Derek rolled his eyes and settled against the warmth
of Stiles’s legs. Haters gonna hate after all.
After the movie, Scott and Stiles got up to leave. Danny and Boyd were staying
(no surprise there). Without thinking, Derek pulled Stiles in for another hug
(trying his best not to be obvious about smelling him). Suddenly he realized it
was going to be awkward if he didn’t hug Scott too. He hurriedly wiped the
startled look off his face and pulled Scott into a bro-hug, complete with manly
back slap. He pointedly ignored the laughter coming from Danny and Boyd and the
weird look Scott was giving him.
“What? It’s just something I’m trying out. You don’t want a hug, then fine,”
Derek said, shrugging. Danny just shook his head and continued to chuckle
quietly. Jesus, no wonder he hadn’t done this before. The hugging thing was
turning out to be a disaster.
“Nah, it’s cool! I’m all for some hugs!” Scott finally said, cheerfully patting
Derek’s shoulder.
“What, no hugs for us?” Boyd asked with a smirk after Scott and Stiles had
pulled away.
“Shut up, Boyd,” Derek said, walking toward the bathroom to hopefully drown
himself in the shower.
“Aw come on! Hug it out, Derek!” Danny shouted after him.
“I hate you guys,” Derek grumbled, but there was no real venom in it.
                     [_photo_Vibe-Divider_zps75ba8d94.png]
The next morning, Derek’s alarm went off at six a.m., as it always did. Most of
the time he was up before the alarm ever got a chance to go off, if he'd even
slept at all, but he'd actually managed to fall asleep with no trouble at all.
A small part of Derek felt he should be more interested in the in pinpointing
the reason for the sudden change, but he was too busy enjoying the results to
bother.
Derek shut the alarm off and didn't end up crawling out of bed until nine,
feeling more rested than he had in a long time. He put on the sweatpants and
tank top he’d worn the day before and grabbed his iPod and sneakers before
heading downstairs to find some breakfast. Apparently Derek was just in time to
catch a glimpse of Boyd kissing Danny as Danny headed out to the elevator.
Derek’s mouth was open before he could stop himself.
“Ha!” he shouted from the top of the spiral stairs. Danny blushed and Boyd
glared.
“Hey, don’t give me that look. After yesterday, you guys deserve it,” Derek
said, feeling only a little apologetic for being a total moment ruiner. Boyd
rolled his eyes, but his lips were turned up in a grin. Danny waved as the
elevator doors closed. By the time Boyd headed back in, he found Derek standing
in the kitchen, arms folded and a shit eating grin on his face.
“So… you and Danny?”
“You and Stiles?” Boyd countered.
“What about me and Stiles? There is no ‘me and Stiles’,” Derek said and damn if
he didn’t sound a little put out by that.
“Yeah, but you want there to be,” Boyd said. It wasn’t a question.
“Was I really being that obvious?” Derek asked, cringing a little. The second
hug was probably a bit over the top.
“Definitely. But to be fair, I knew long before yesterday.”
“Bullshit,” Derek said, rummaging through the fridge to find the turkey bacon
and some eggs.
“You used to be a little better at hiding it, but you’ve always been pretty
Stiles-centric. The way you complain about him is downright... reverent at
times,” Boyd said, reaching past Derek to grab a container of yogurt.
“That makes no sense,” Derek grumbled, but he was having a hard time denying it
as fiercely as he would have liked.
“If it helps, I’m pretty sure he remains completely oblivious,” Boyd offered
casually. Derek sighed in relief until Boyd continued on, “but you should tell
him.”
“What? Why? No,” Derek said, sputtering. He’d been repressing his feelings for
Stiles for so long that he was having trouble remembering why they were a bad
thing. Other than the potential embarrassment of being rejected (in what would
likely be the most awkward fashion imaginable, knowing Stiles), of course. The
annoying little voice that constantly reminded Derek that Stiles was too-young-
too-human-too-big-of-a-risk just... wasn't there today.
“Come on. Are you really as oblivious as he is? Figure it out, Derek.” Boyd
said, grabbing a spoon and heading to the table to eat his yogurt in peace and
quiet.
Derek thought about what Boyd said while he made his breakfast and mulled over
it as he ate. After eating, he went out for a run and mentally went through
every recent interaction he’d had with Stiles, looking for evidence that he
might feel the same way. Yeah, there were lots of instances of sickeningly
adorable blushing, but Stiles blushed pretty easily.
If they were in elementary school, Derek would have no doubt that Stiles was
into him. If Derek weren’t a lot bigger and stronger than Stiles, there was a
good chance Stiles would have pushed him down on the playground and pulled his
hair already, but instead he stuck with constantly teasing and annoying Derek.
He even named the hamsters Sourbaby and Grumpster, “after their daddy”. Was
that flirting or was Stiles just naturally that obnoxious and annoying?
By the time Derek headed in for a shower, he had made the decision to keep a
closer eye on his interactions with Stiles. If he was going to say anything…
Wait, was he seriously planning on saying something? Derek’s heart started
pounding loud enough that he was fairly certain Boyd could hear it through the
shower.
Derek forced himself to calm down and just think. He just needed a pressure-
free environment to talk to Stiles in. If they could just relax and spend some
time together without being under the whole pack's scrutiny, then Derek's life
would be a lot easier. Of course, asking to spend time alone with Stiles was
just as problematic and awkward.
Suddenly, it hit Derek. They needed to have a party. Everyone would be relaxed
and they’d be distracted enough that maybe they wouldn’t hassle Derek and fuck
with him for hanging out with Stiles. Then he could see if Stiles was actually
interested in him and maybe… maybe he’d actually make a move.
Anyway, he’d never really had a party before. Not since he was fourteen years
old and his parents had thrown him a pizza party with all his friends from the
basketball team. The pack hung out at the loft often enough and occasionally
they would order out and watch movies, but Derek was pretty sure that didn't
count as a party. That was more of a... gathering or a get-together. They
needed to have a real party. Hell, Derek was actually getting pretty excited
about the idea. Why the hell hadn’t he done this already?
Derek got out of the shower and looked himself over. Jesus, he was getting
hairy as hell. Normally Derek had a fairly strict body hair removal regimen
(not that he would have EVER admitted it), but he hadn’t had time lately and
now he just didn’t want to. He was a damn werewolf. Derek had to wonder if his
previous shitty attitude had something to do with his semi-regular waxing
appointments. It seemed pretty plausible.
New and improved Derek was going to embrace the chest hair and happy trail,
though he had to wonder if Stiles might prefer him all smooth. He decided to
risk it anyway. He had a feeling Stiles wouldn’t mind. He may or may not have
noticed Stiles rocking some body hair of his own. His private Derek time had
been fueled by flashes of a dark trail of hair leading down into Stiles’s jeans
on more than one occasion.
Derek decided to skip his usual hair molding routine in honor of his new au
natural bent. He gave himself an encouraging nod in the mirror and went to grab
his cellphone. He had plans to make. He was definitely going to need Lydia on
this one… and Scott. Scott definitely had a use in his party plans. He decided
to call Lydia first.
”Derek.” Lydia answered the phone like an accusation. Derek had forgotten that
he’d been kinda rude to her the day before. No doubt she was still pissed.
“Lydia, you need to put your irritation with me on hold and get your ass over
here.” Derek said. He heard Lydia huff indignantly through the phone.
”And why is that?”
“Because I'm throwing a party at the loft and you’re helping.”
”You’re fucking kidding.” Lydia said after a pregnant pause. Derek sighed and
rolled his eyes. He was sure Lydia would feel it through the phone if he just…
concentrated….
”Derek, I swear to god, if you are rolling your eyes right now…” Derek smiled
at that.
“Look, I’m not kidding. I want to have a house party. Or loft party, whatever.
We need alcohol and food and music and the whole nine yards. And…. I’m not
exactly a pro at this and….”
”And?” Lydia drawled. Derek huffed out a sigh. She was going to make him say
it.
“And I bow to your superior party planning skills and humbly beseech you to
honor this lowly peasant with your assistance,” Derek said with as much sarcasm
as he could muster. Lydia let out a little trill of laughter.
”Fine, since you asked so nicely, but Derek?”
“Yeah?”
”Answer me honestly. Are you on werewolf cocaine right now or something?”
“Jesus Lydia, not you too,” Derek said in annoyance.
”It’s a fair question. You’re willingly throwing a party at your place, Derek.
This is fairly unprecedented.”
“No, I’m not under the influence of anything... yet. I’m just trying something
out here. I’ve been informed by reliable sources that I need the stick removed
from my ass, so consider this a celebration of my new stick-free existence.”
”Hmm…”
“Hmm? Hmm what?”
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Stiles would it?”
“I’m hanging up now, Lydia. See you when you get here,” Derek said and ended
the call before immediately dialing Scott.
”Hey Derek!” Scott said. God, Derek was really fucking glad Scott didn’t hate
him anymore. Seeing how nice Scott usually was made it even more obvious how
much of a dick he used to be to Derek. Cheerful goofy Scott was a lot more
pleasant by far.
“Hey, I have a favor to ask you.”
”Shoot,” Scott said. Derek could hear the Xbox in the background. He realized
he’d let the line go silent for just a little bit too long because he’d been
listening to see if Stiles was there with him.
”Derek, you still there?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, got distracted. No, I’m thinking of having a party at the
loft and I was wondering if you could help me out with acquiring certain
things.”
”Wait, like… arealparty?”
“Yes, Scott. A real party.” Derek confirmed with another sigh. When the hell
was everyone going to stop acting so completely thrown by everything Derek did?
It was exhausting having to constantly reaffirm everything he said.
“Holy shit! That’s awesome! What do you need, dude?” Scott asked. Derek could
hear excited chatter in the background at the mention of a party. Stiles was
definitely there and he was questioning Isaac about Derek’s side of the
conversation since he was the only one there that couldn’t already hear
everything.
“Well, don’t get offended if I’m totally off base here, but you smoke weed
right?”
”Err… no?”
“Scott, I don’t care either way. I was just hoping you could get some for the
party. I can give you money for it, obviously,” Derek said. He could hear the
background noise go silent and Stiles repeatedly whispering, ‘What? What did he
say?’ to Isaac.
”Derek?”
“Yeah?”
“I just want to let you know that this is the best phone conversation I’ve ever
had with you. And yes, I can get whatever you need. I’ll swing by and pick up
the money later?”
“Ok, great. Thanks.”
” Oh hey, how about we come by for lunch and you can tell us more about this
party idea? We’ll make Stiles cook,” Scott offered. Derek could hear Stiles
making a noise of complaint in the background, but he knew Stiles would cook if
they asked him.
“Make it so,” Derek said. Scott actually cackled at that before hanging up the
phone and Derek couldn’t help but smile. This party was probably the best idea
he’d had since… ever. As long as he could talk to Stiles without embarrassing
himself (and without Stiles embarrassing him and the pack embarrassing them
both) then it would be a total success.
Derek got dressed with slightly more care than he had yesterday, mostly because
Lydia was coming over and would tear him a new asshole if she caught him
wearing sweatpants in broad daylight and without the excuse of working out. He
pulled on one of his many pairs of snug dark jeans and a soft gray v-neck shirt
and headed downstairs to wait for Lydia.
Lydia, of course, had impeccable timing and walked out of the elevator with her
cellphone in hand, smelling magnificent. Derek had to hand it to her; she had a
knack for choosing a perfume subtle and pleasant enough to not make him want to
be sick. He wasn’t a huge fan of overwhelming perfumes and colognes, but he
figured most werewolves weren’t. Stiles only ever used deodorant and Derek kind
of loved him for it.
“Ok, so first things first. We need to start delegating tasks and inviting
people. When are you planning on having this party?” Lydia asked. She wasn’t
wasting any time getting to the point, but she was also simultaneously
assessing Derek’s product free do and probably trying to ascertain whether or
not he was, in fact, on werewolf cocaine.
“Umm, tonight?” Derek said. Lydia flashed him a glare.
“It’s doable, but it’s going to be a pain the ass. Other than the pack, who do
you want to invite?” Lydia asked. She’d moved on from her visual pat-down and
was now swiping through the contacts on her phone.
“I don’t know. You guys have friends. Invite them,” Derek said with a shrug.
Lydia flipped her hair and started typing on her phone in a flurry of fingers.
He’d definitely asked the right girl for the job.
“Ok, the invitations are settled. I told the rest of the pack to invite people
too so we should be set on that front. Now comes the fun part. Making our
friends do things,” Lydia said with a delightfully evil grin.
“Scott’s already picking up weed. He’s bringing Isaac and Stiles by for lunch.
We’re making Stiles cook, obviously.”
“Weed, Derek? Really? God, aren't you a little old for that?” Lydia asked with
a raised eyebrow.
“Lydia,” Derek chastised with an equally potent eyebrow gesture that said to
drop it. Lydia shrugged and rolled her eyes.
“Ok, well when Scott’s done with that he can go get food and snacks with Isaac.
You and Stiles can go get the drinks, alcoholic and otherwise, and Boyd and
Danny can stay at the loft to clean up. I’ll recruit Allison and Cora to come
help me with decorations , music, and entertainment. You do realize this isn't
going to be cheap and you’re going to have to be the party sugar daddy, yes?”
“I know. Want to run to the ATM with me before lunch?” Derek asked.
“As long as I can drive,” Lydia said, holding out her hand for Derek's keys.
Derek shrugged and dropped the keys in Lydia's waiting hand. He hadn't really
been as protective of his new car as he had been of the Camaro. There was no
way he would have let Lydia drive that. Derek sighed wistfully in remembrance
of his old car. The Toyota was fine, it was just... practical, and Derek kind
of missed the way people looked at him when he pulled up in a shiny black
sports car.
On the way to the ATM, Lydia did a little mental math to figure out how much
everyone would need so that Derek knew how much to withdraw and how much to
give each group. All the while she was continuously texting, getting ahold of
people and setting plans in place. She was like party mission control. It was
both amazing and a little intimidating.
Derek did his best not to cringe at the final total Lydia gave him for the
party budget. After all, he'd saved quite a bit of money by spending the better
part of his time in Beacon Hills as a squatter. He could afford to splurge a
little.
By the time Derek and Lydia got back to the loft, the entire pack was there
waiting for them (sans Peter, who was conveniently out of town and had been
since Scott had become the true Alpha). Before Derek could even finishing
greeting the pack, Lydia was doling out assignments and cash. Cora grumbled at
being lumped in with “the girls”, but didn't argue. Derek was pretty sure she
didn't actually mind, but just didn't want to admit it.
“Calm down, Lyds. Let everyone come inside for a minute. Apparently, I'm making
lunch,” Stiles interrupted before Lydia could send everyone on their way. Lydia
sighed and looked down at the time on her cell phone.
“Fine, but make something quick. Allison, Cora, and I are just going to grab
something while we're out,” Lydia said. Cora looked like she wanted to complain
about her lunch plans being made without her input, but she thought better of
it. Probably because she realized Lydia would most likely be paying.
“I, um, think we'll do the same.” Danny said, giving Boyd a meaningful look.
Derek attempted to hold back a giggle. They were definitely going on a lunch
date. It was pretty obvious considering they actually had to come back to the
loft when they were done eating anyway. Lydia raised a perfectly groomed brow,
but refrained from commenting.
“Awesome, less for me to cook!” Stiles said. Cooking for himself and three
large werewolves was, no doubt, enough of a challenge for him. Luckily, Stiles
was awesome at making huge filling casseroles and pasta dishes.
The others headed out on their merry ways while Scott, Isaac, Stiles, and Derek
all headed up into the loft. As soon as they made their way into the kitchen,
Stiles stretched and cracked his knuckles dramatically before digging in the
cabinets. Derek didn't bother fighting back a smile.
Luckily, the kitchen was roomy enough that Stiles didn't complain about having
company as he cooked. They'd tried that in the Stilinski kitchen once, but
Stiles had shuffled them all out, complaining that he was getting
claustrophobic.
“So what's on the menu?” Isaac asked.
“Hm... meatball subs?” Stiles suggested, pulling a giant package of hamburger
meat out of the fridge. Derek, Isaac, and Scott all nodded sagely at his wise
choice. Ever since Stiles had started cooking meals for the pack, Derek kept a
well-stocked fridge and pantry, and it was pretty easy for Stiles to come up
with the ingredients he needed.
“So... what brought on this sudden urge to party hardy?” Stiles asked, working
spices into the ground meat. Derek was very well aware of how odd it was that
he wanted to lick raw meat from Stiles's hands, but that didn't make it any
less true. That was the kind of weird werewolf shit that Stiles would most
definitely not find sexy, but damn if Derek couldn't help it.
“Just seemed like something we should do,” Derek said with a shrug, “Seemed
like fun, I guess.”
“Well, I heartily approve. New and improved Derek is the bomb,” Stiles said,
bumping his shoulder into Derek. Holy hell, when did Derek get that close to
him? Derek tried to casually move out of Stiles's personal space without being
too obvious, but he could sense the smirks on Scott and Isaac's faces already.
“Do people still say that? That things are the bomb?” Stiles wondered aloud,
completely oblivious to the silent, teasing goings-on, just outside his line of
sight.
“No, I don't think so,” Isaac said.
“Oh well, I'm bringing it back.”
Stiles finished making the meatballs, while Derek and Scott cut and toasted
Italian bread to put them on. Stiles talked continuously, as he checked the
oven and stirred the marinara he was heating up.
Derek felt amazingly at peace. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt
that way. He'd always had that little voice in his mind that was constantly
reminding him of all the ways he'd ever fucked up. He was never truly relaxed
because some part of him insisted that he always be on edge, always ready for
the next big disaster. It was an exhausting way to live his life.
“Hey, I gotta make a call really quick. Give me a second,” Derek said, moving
away from Stiles's side (because he'd somehow ended up right next to him
without noticing it... again). The others nodded and continued chattering on
about a drinking game they wanted to play that involved playing Battleship with
shots.
Derek stepped out of the kitchen and did a quick search on his phone. He knew
it was a pretty small chance, but he felt like he should try to get ahold of
Phoenix, the girl from the head shop. After all, he was pretty sure it was
having a stranger call him out like that that had him thinking so differently.
He figured the easiest way to thank her was to invite her to the party. Plus,
she kinda seemed like a fun person to have at a party.
After Googling the name of the store, Derek finally found the number and
called. After a few rings, a familiar, cheery voice answered.
”From the Ashes, this is Phoenix. How's it going?” Derek suddenly understood
the name of her shop and chuckled a little.
“Hey, not sure if you remember, but this is Derek? The guy you gave the sticker
to?”
“Oh, hey! How's it hanging, wolfy?”
“Actually, I’m throwing a party tonight. Thought I'd send an invite your way,
if you're up to it.”
“You know, not to be weird or anything, but I'm kinda seein' someone. I mean,
it's not real serious, but I'm not really lookin-”
“No, no! Not like that! Just like a friend thing! I'm in- sorta taken. Well not
really. It's complicated.” Derek rambled, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that
his mouth was getting ahead of his brain and that there were two guys with
super charged hearing only a stone's throw away. He groaned dejectedly.
”Ok, calm down. I feel ya. I'd love to come!” Phoenix said. Derek then
explained to her how to get to the loft, and he told her to come by around
nine. She'd also asked if she should bring anything, and Derek said she was
welcome to bring anything she wanted... just as long as it wasn't fucking
hamsters. She'd had a good laugh at that.
“Sooo... who was that?” Stiles asked in a casual tone that was clearly forced.
Scott and Isaac were nearly in fits and Derek was trying desperately to guess
how much Stiles had heard.
“Um, it was the girl that was doing all the spells? She ended up being pretty
cool so I thought we should invite her.”
“Oh, cool. She cute?” Stiles asked, still staring rather resolutely at the
meatball sub he was putting together. Derek's heart sank a little. He probably
should have thought about the possibility of Stiles being attracted to her
before he invited the cute and quirky witch. Ugh, she was probably totally
Stiles's type too.
“She's taken,” Derek said, a little too sharply.
“Whoa, okay. Chill. I wasn't interested,” Stiles snapped back. Something was
definitely wrong and it only took one look at Isaac and Scott's red faces to
figure it out. They were literally about to explode with laughter.
“That was bad,” Isaac whispered. Scott snorted and Derek threw his hands up,
completely unsure of his next step. Scott just waved at him before coming up to
snag the two subs Stiles had finished for himself and Isaac.
Stiles was about to follow, but Derek stopped him.
“I'm not interested in her either. Just so you know.” Derek said. He was trying
to imagine how hysterically awkward he looked at that moment, but he couldn't
even imagine it. He just couldn't really think of a smoother way to fix their
current misunderstanding.
“Oh... Ok,” Stiles said, looking at him with more than a little confusion
before walking away. Mother-fuck! Apparently Derek would have to be a little
less subtle. Maybe this was why he'd never tried to share his feelings about
Stiles before. It was frustrating to say the least.
“I just meant that she's only coming as a friend. More like an acquaintance,
really. One that I'm not interested in,” Derek explained. Stiles had turned to
blink at him like a startled goldfish and Derek prayed that his face was not
nearly as red as Stiles's was.
“You know what, I think it's definitely time to eat,” Isaac said, interrupting
a silence that was growing more and more awkward by the second. Maybe Derek had
misread the signs. Maybe Stiles honestly wasn't interested in him as anything
more than a friend. Derek was pretty sure that he'd been painfully clear with
his awkward declaration, but then he hadn't really left Stiles in a good
position to reply in any useful way.
Shit. He'd definitely have to try that again. Derek decided to wait for the
party, like he'd originally planned. Stiles would be more relaxed then, and
maybe he'd have had time to pick up on Derek's obvious hints that there was
some interest there.
Derek felt a little better by the time he finished his meatball sub, especially
when he caught Stiles smiling at him as he licked a stray spot of marinara from
his thumb. Derek grinned and self-consciously wiped at his mouth.
“Well, I guess we're on alcohol duty, so do you want to get going?” Derek
asked. Stiles had finished his sandwich long before Derek and Isaac, but after
Scott. Stiles could eat with the best of them, but Scott's appetite was a force
to be reckoned with.
“Yeah, I'm ready when you are!” Stiles said, standing up and brushing a few
errant crumbs from his pants. Derek could already hear the elevator making its
way up, and sure enough, he and Stiles were met at the door by Danny and Boyd.
Everyone seemed to be running right on time, but then no one really wanted to
be the person that messed up Lydia's meticulous schedule. Derek spared a
thought for his poor sister left in the banshee's clutches, so to speak, but
more and more often he got the idea that spending time with Lydia never
bothered Cora half as much as she let on.
Derek casually tossed his keys to Stiles and snorted out a brief laugh at the
look of sheer surprise and wonder on Stiles's face. He'd had Stiles chauffeur
him around before, but usually it was in Stiles's jeep.
“What? Lydia spoiled me to being driven around in my own car,” Derek said with
a shrug. Stiles didn't argue with him, but instead hopped in the front seat
with a little too much enthusiasm and ended up knocking his knee against the
steering wheel pretty hard. Derek came around to where Stiles was still half
hanging out of the car, cursing and clutching his knee.
“Oh come on, is it really that bad?” Derek asked.
“Yes! Oh my god, look!” Stiles said, hiking up his jeans to show Derek what
would likely be a gnarly bruise in no time. Without even thinking, Derek leaned
forward and gave Stiles's bare knee a light peck.
“There. All better. Now quit being such a baby-” Derek looked up from under his
lashes and was stopped short by the look in Stiles's eyes. He had been
expecting embarrassment or amusement or some combination of the two, but the
way Stiles was looking down at Derek showed that he was all too aware of the
close proximity between Derek's mouth and his lap. Derek flushed at the intense
heat in Stiles's honey golden eyes. He straightened up and Stiles suddenly
seemed to become aware of the charged moment and waved Derek away with a
slightly forced laugh so that he could shut the door, “Ha ha, very funny. Let's
get going before Lydia starts texting to check up on us.”
They spent the rest of the drive filling the silence with awkward small talk,
as they both tried to imagine how many people would actually show up, given
such late notice. Lydia seemed to think there'd be plenty of people, given the
shopping list she'd texted over as they drove.
They decided to do most of their shopping at Walmart, since Derek could pick
out the booze without having to leave Stiles (still woefully under the legal
drinking age) in the car. They stocked up on two-liters, cases of beer, and
mixers while Derek gave a lengthy explanation as to the ways in which marijuana
was superior to alcohol, first and foremost being the fact that it affected him
as it would any human. Stiles listened with an amused smile, as Derek explained
that alcohol only affected werewolves in enormous amounts or if wolfsbane had
been added in small amounts to slow his body's healing response.
In other words, Derek's werewolf physiology processed alcohol like it would any
poison (other than wolfsbane and mountain ash, obviously), but good ol' Mary
Jane didn't set off security in the same way, so to speak. That was all the
reason Derek needed to proclaim weed the superior mind altering substance.
“God, please tell me Scott has heard that speech? Seriously, I think he'd
propose to you if he were here right now,” Stiles said, his clever mouth
stretched in a grin. Derek offered up one of his classic bitch faces to show
just how excited he was by that prospect, and Stiles grinned even wider. They
were both pushing a cart full of purchases toward the back of the Toyota, to
unload them.
“Seriously, Derek. I gotta say, this has been really nice. I mean, just hanging
out with you without you snapping at me or throwing me into something.” Derek
winced a little at that, but Stiles didn't seem to notice.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I mean, I know I can be a little... rough. I just-
Man, I'm just usually so wound up. You don't know...” Derek trailed off as he
noticed the suddenly unimpressed look Stiles was giving him as they unloaded
their purchases into the trunk.
“See, that's the thing. I really do know, Derek. Trust me, you’re looking at
the King of Anxiety right here. I mean, yeah, I express mine a little
differently, but I know what it's like,” Stiles explained, and Derek believed
him.
The truth was, Derek had spent a lot of time channeling his fear and anxiety
into anger without ever making that connection. Fear, in his eyes, was a
weakness, but anger could be strength. Anger was his anchor. Sometimes he'd
felt like he'd snap in two under the weight of all that fear, but he never let
it make him weak. He just couldn't afford it. He'd been that way for so long,
he almost forgot what it felt like not to be afraid. Now for the first time, he
looked for that usual miasma of fear and anger and mistrust, only to find that
it simply wasn't there.
Maybe it was finally having something like a stable pack again that had done
it. He never would have expected to be in a pack full of mostly teenagers led
by Scott McCall, but it worked. When push came to shove, he trusted his pack to
have his back. It was a feeling he hadn't really had since his family had been
alive.
Derek was pulled out of his silent reverie by the car shifting into park.
Apparently they'd made it back to the loft without him even noticing it.
“You're totally carrying most of this crap in, dude. My weak human arms can
only do so little,” Stiles said, looking back over his shoulder at the heavy
assortment of two liters, bottles, and cases of beer. Derek got out of the car
and whistled loudly, calling for any pack members that were inside and able to
help. Stiles covered his ears and winced.
“That is freakishly loud,” Stiles complained, but Derek just smiled smugly.
“My mom taught me that trick. She used to whistle like that to call the kids
home for dinner and even the humans could hear her from pretty much anywhere in
the preserve,” Derek explained with a fond smile, as he remembered the way
everyone would scramble to get home, convinced they had to make it back before
everyone else or all the food would be gone. Despite the fact that there was
always plenty for everyone, Derek suddenly realized how rare it was that he
thought about memories like that, much less discussed them with anyone else.
Isaac, Scott, and Boyd all met them at the car and Stiles actually didn't end
up carrying anything. A turn of events he seemed all too pleased with. Derek
rolled his eyes and transferred a bag with a couple of bottles of Mountain Dew
in it to Stiles. Stiles pouted, but Derek just grinned.
When the elevator opened, they found the loft had been completely transformed.
Lydia was still directing everyone as they put the finishing touches on the
loft, but the place already looked amazing. Derek had been half-expecting
streamers and a playlist set up on iTunes, but he really should have known to
expect better from Lydia. Instead there were beautifully glowing multicolored
lights and an actual DJ setting up under the enormous window.
Lydia was apparently busy directing an equally fond and irritated Cora as to
where she should be hanging a large paper lantern, so Allison stepped in as her
second in command and told the boys where to deposit their haul.
With all hands on deck, the loft was set up for an impromptu party in no time.
Derek was fully impressed, but he was harboring a few secret doubts that anyone
outside of the pack would actually show up on such short notice. Of course, he
wasn't going to tell Lydia that because he valued the general health and well-
being of his testicles.
Derek was making a couple wolfsbane-laced cocktails for Scott and Isaac to try
when people finally started arriving, coming up in the elevator in little
clusters. One of the first people to arrive was Phoenix, carrying a bottle of
something clearly homemade.
“Hey wolfy! Gotcha something good. Way better than wolfsbane laced Jack and
Cokes, I promise!” Phoenix said, with a conspiratorial wink at Scott. Derek
eyed the bottle of foggy purple liquid warily.
“Oh come on. It's fine! My own recipe! Guaranteed to rock your little werewolfy
world,” Phoenix said, popping the cork out and handing it over. Scott took the
bottle and sniffed it warily. He and Isaac exchanged looks before Scott finally
nodded and took a swig, clearly willing to take one for the team.
“Damn! That's actually really good!” Scott said, handing the bottle to Isaac.
Isaac took a swig too and smiled broadly.
“By the way, this is my Alpha, Scott, and that's Isaac. Guys, this is Phoenix,
I told you about her earlier? With the spells?” Derek said. At some point
Stiles had decided to give up the argument he'd been having with the DJ in
favor of investigating the new guest.
“And I'm Stiles,” Stiles interjected, “Thanks for the hamsters, by the way.”
Phoenix laughed and looked over to at the little maze of colorful tunnels that
made up the exterior of the hamster cage. The pack had taken great joy in
slowly expanding the little Habitrail with random tubes and wheels and weird
add-ons from the pet store.
“Glad to see they're being well cared for!” Phoenix chuckled.
“Oh yeah. They live in the lap of hamster luxury,” Stiles said, nodding proudly
at the cage.
“Well, I'm gonna go mingle. Looks like a snack table over there with my name on
it,” Phoenix said, dipping away, but before she did she elbowed Derek in the
side and whispered (or what she thought must have passed for whispering), “Go
get 'im, tiger!”
Derek groaned as Isaac and Scott chuckled at him. They'd had more than their
fair share of schadenfreude over the last couple of days when it came to Derek
and Stiles. Stiles just looked confused and for a second Derek wanted to roll
his eyes at his insane obliviousness.
“What was that about?” Stiles asked after Phoenix had walked away. Scott and
Isaac were still giggling like school girls, clutching at the bottle of
mysterious purple werewolf booze.
“Just... ignore them,” Derek said, “Want me to make you a drink?”
“Yeah, sure,” Stiles said with a shrug.
“Do you care what it is?” Derek asked. Stiles just shook his head.
“Surprise me,” Stiles said. Derek poured a couple shots of Southern Comfort
into a solo cup, added a couple shots of peach schnapps, and then topped it off
with orange juice. Stiles stirred it around with his finger and sucked it clean
and Derek tried not to choke on his breath. For Christ's sake! He'd already
mixed it, and there were straws right there. How often did Stiles need to find
completely unnecessary reasons to put his fingers in his mouth?
Stiles took a swig and then smiled broadly, “Nice job, bartender! That's not
half bad.”
Derek just shrugged and smiled. He grabbed a cup of his own and went to get
some of Phoenix's weird purple drink before Scott and Isaac finished it all and
Stiles followed. Cora had managed to break herself away from Lydia and had
joined Scott and Isaac in passing the bottle around. Derek grabbed the bottle
from her with a grin at her irritated growl. It was pure instinct to piss off
his little sister and he was pretty sure he had lots of catching up to do on
that front.
“Looks like the party's finally starting to get going,” Isaac said, looking
around at the slowly filling loft. The DJ was blasting some upbeat dance music
and a few people had actually started to dance.
“Yeah. You know, now might be a good time to partake in some of that stuff I
got for you earlier,” Scott said, nudging Derek conspiratorially.
“Dude, I'm pretty sure you can say weed. I don't think we invited any narcs. I
mean, I'm the sheriff's kid and I'm not saying shit, so you're probably in the
clear,” Stiles said. Derek laughed at that and Scott just shrugged.
“We can go upstairs if you guys don't mind sitting on my bed?” Derek offered.
“Wow, Der. You're actually willingly letting people in your room. Kudos on the
character growth,” Cora said with a smirk. Stiles barked out a laugh and Derek
elbowed him in the side.
“Right. Not allowed to laugh at the sibling burn. Got it,” Stiles said, rubbing
his side. Derek just rolled his eyes and led the way up the spiral stairs,
ruffling Cora's hair out of her ponytail as he passed and quickly ducking out
of the way of the punch she aimed at his arm.
Derek jogged up the stairs and quickly threw a comforter over his unmade bed
before everyone had a chance to come sit down. He sat and leaned against the
headboard as everyone slowly filled in around him, conveniently leaving the
space next to Derek open for Stiles. Even Cora seemed to be in on the secret
(if you could even call it that, anymore). Derek was pretty sure it was only a
secret to Stiles at that point.
Before Scott could ask, Derek found a flat book and handed it to him so he
could break up the weed and pick out the seeds and stems. To Derek's slight
surprise, Scott handed the baggy, the book, and the papers to Stiles. Derek
held in a groan. There was no freaking way he could handle Stiles rolling a
joint.
Derek tried to keep his attention elsewhere, but he couldn't keep his eyes off
Stiles’s clever fingers and the way he wet the edge of the paper between his
lips. The only thing keeping Derek from popping a seriously inappropriate boner
was the fact that his sister sitting less than a yard away. He shot a pained
look Scott's way and Scott just laughed.
“Sorry dude, I suck at rolling.” he said with a shrug.
“What, my joints aren't good enough for you, Derek?” Stiles asked, holding up a
perfect rolled joint and passing it to Scott to light up before starting in on
a second one.
“I don't think that's the problem,” Isaac said, and before anyone could shut
him up, “I think it's the fact that you roll joints like a porn star or
something.”
Stiles immediately turned beet red and looked down at the partially rolled join
in his hand, suddenly self-conscious.
“Chill, Stiles. Isaac's just fucking with you,” Scott said, laughing.
“Not really,” Cora said. Stiles just rolled his eyes and finished rolling the
joint, face still flushed red.
“I refuse to apologize for my natural sex appeal and animal magnetism,” Stiles
said, determined not to look up from the task at hand. Even Derek had to laugh
a little at that.
Soon enough, the four of them were passing the two joints around and talking
and laughing over the thump of the bass. After a while, a couple people made
their way upstairs, out of curiosity, and settled on the floor around the bed,
as more joints were rolled and passed around. By the time Lydia came up and
told Derek to stop being a stoner and to come socialize, he was well and truly
high and had collapsed on the bed with his head in Stiles's lap.
Stiles had been idly trailing his fingers through Derek's hair as he talked,
making Derek endlessly grateful for his choice to skip the hair product (and
for the fact that the others had gotten tired of embarrassing him by that
point). Derek looked up at Lydia and glared at her for even suggesting he move
out of his current position. She just crossed her arms and glared right back
until Derek gave in. It was his idea to throw the party, after all.
Derek grumbled as he sat up, pulling away from Stiles's soothing fingers,
“Alright, alright. I'm up, I'm socializing.”
“Dude!” Stiles suddenly shouted, jumping up after Derek. Scott was already
laughing and Derek didn't understand, until he realized he was reacting to the
song the DJ had just put on.
“What?” Derek asked. He didn't recognize the song right away, but apparently
everyone else did.
“Come on, I'm teaching you how to Dougie,” Stiles said, dragging him down the
spiral staircase.
“Oh dude, I have to see this,” Scott said, cackling from behind them. Derek had
a very bad feeling about this, but it was hard to argue with Stiles when his
head was swimming, his body was buzzing, and Stiles was gripping his hand
tight, as he led the way to the makeshift dance floor that had formed in the
middle of his loft.
“You can dance, right?” Stiles asked. Derek froze, kind of unsure how to
answer. Back when he was a teenager, before the fire, he'd begged his mom to
let him sign up for hip-hop dance classes, convinced he would be the next Usher
or something. He actually wasn't bad either, and he'd kind of loved it, but he
hadn't even thought about dancing since the fire.
“Umm...” Derek said, but Stiles didn't seem to be too invested in his answer.
He was already swaying to the beat and pulling Derek right along with him until
they found a spot in the center of the floor. Derek resisted the urge to run
and instead focused on Stiles and the way his body was moving.
“Just do what I do, ok?” Stiles said, leaning in to be heard over the thumping
of the music. Derek nodded and watched as Stiles started moving to the beat.
The dance wasn't hard to pick up, but Derek was a little surprised at how good
Stiles looked on the dance floor. How the hell could someone so clumsy look so
confident on the dance floor? It seemed incongruous, but that was probably part
of the reason Derek found it so attractive.
Derek started copying Stiles, taking a few cues from some other people that had
joined in and pretty soon had picked up the dance. Stiles was cackling like a
mad man, clearly triumphant that he'd gotten Derek to dance with him. Cora was
laughing so hard she looked like she might break a rib, but Scott looked
surprised and impressed so Derek figured he must not look like that big of an
asshole.
As one song turned into the next, Derek and Stiles stayed out on the dance
floor. As Derek got more comfortable, he found himself getting closer and
closer to Stiles, until the two were shamelessly grinding against each other.
He didn't give a shit who was watching, whether Scott was pretending to puke or
whether Cora was busy taking shots with her cellphone for future blackmail
purposes (and they both were), all he cared about was the pound of the bass and
the intoxicating feeling of Stiles's over-heated body pressed up against his in
all the right places.
The party had definitely been the way to go.
The next song hit with something a little slower and Derek found himself
suddenly inches away from Stiles's beaming face and it seemed like second
nature to put a hand on his chin and pull him in for a kiss. He was pretty sure
a few people actually cheered for them and Derek had never felt more like a
character in a movie in his life, but at least this time he was starring in
Can't Hardly Wait or She's All That rather than The Road or Othello.
Stiles pulled away with a slightly embarrassed roll of his eyes and began to
drag Derek off the floor and presumably off to somewhere more private. Derek
was fully on-board with that plan, despite the fact that his loft didn't
actually get particularly “private”. Going up the spiral stairs to his room
would at least keep them out of sight and the loud music would do the rest.
Derek felt a faint niggling in the back of his mind that reminded him of how
exposed and unprotected they would be, but as he'd done with many similar
thoughts in the past couple of days, he simply brushed it away.
Derek ignored the new round of cheers, as the crowd realized where they were
going off to, but Stiles made sure to throw up his middle finger with a
cheerful smile. Once they were far enough in Derek's room to be out of sight,
Stiles collapsed down on the edge of the bed and covered his red face with his
hands.
“Our friends are assholes,” he said. Derek just laughed in agreement and
stepped closer. Stiles leaned back on his elbows and looked up at Derek with a
smile that had gone from bashful to salacious in the time took him to realize
that they were alone and in the presence of a bed. If that wasn’t an
invitation, then Derek didn’t know what was. It seemed rude to decline. Derek
had manners, after all.
Derek walked in front of Stiles and leaned down with one knee on the bed, just
to Stiles’s left. He braced his hands against Stiles's shoulders and leaned in
close enough to brush his cheek against Stiles’s neck.
“Mmm, you smell good,” Derek said, letting his lips trail against Stiles’s
skin. Stiles let out a low moan that nearly disappeared in the din of the
party.
“Probably smell like booze and weed and sweat,” Stiles mumbled, his voice low
and breathy. Derek snorted out a laugh and ignored Stiles’s rebuttal in favor
of sucking a kiss into his neck Derek pondered whether or not Stiles would mind
if he gave him a hickey, when he was interrupted by Stiles dropping back,
taking the weight from his elbows.
“Sorry!” Stiles yelped as they collapsed together on the bed. Derek just
pressed another kiss against Stiles's laughing mouth and eased down onto his
lap, adjusting to the new position. He continued kissing Stiles’s neck,
shamelessly unconcerned that he was stretching the hell out the collar of
Stiles's tee-shirt as he tried to get to more skin.
“You should take this off,” Derek said, his words muffled against Stiles’s skin
and reinforced by the way his hand was sliding up under the shirt in question.
“Mm, yeah. Definitely. Just... gotta... let me up,” Stiles agreed, trying
fruitlessly to wriggle out from under Derek enough to get his shirt off. Derek
finally stopped kissing Stiles long enough to sit up, but apparently that only
pressed the weight of his ass down on Stiles's lap a little more firmly. Stiles
moaned and grabbed Derek by his belt loops in an attempt to guide the rough
grind against his denim clad lap.
“S'that good?” Derek asked, rocking down on Stiles’s lap. Stiles groaned and
dropped his head back against the bed, shirt forgotten. Derek started sliding
Stiles’s tee shirt up his chest, dragging his thumbs across the smooth warm
skin. When he got the shirt up as far as it would go, Stiles finally began to
cooperate again and lifted his arms.
“Mm, much better,” Derek said, practically purring as he explored Stiles’s body
with his hands. Stiles, for his part, had been struck mute, his mouth hanging
open as he watched the path of Derek's hand gliding toward his nipple.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Derek?” He finally managed to croak
out. Derek chuckled and looked down at Stiles with a grin.
“Stop being an idiot. I've always wanted you,” Derek said, his thumb lazily
rubbing Stiles’s bottom lip, which seemed to be the sole focus of his world at
that moment and the place he directed his words.
“Since when?” Stiles asked, suddenly more alert than he'd been the whole night.
He pushed Derek's hand away from his lip and raised an eyebrow, obviously
intent on getting a serious answer. Derek tried not to pout and failed
miserably.
“Since…. For a while, I guess. Maybe since the pool? With the kanima? No, I
think it was before that...” Derek said, trying to think back to pinpoint the
first moment he realized Stiles had carved out a home in his thoughts and
settled there.
“But you’re not hiding it now,” Stiles said, blankly.
“I’m tired of hiding it.” Derek said, grinning lazily and rolling his hips
again, just to watch Stiles’s eyes roll back in his head for a second.
“Wh-why?” Stiles asked. Derek wanted to complain about all the questions, but
he was willing to be patient, especially since Stiles had rested his hands on
Derek’s hips. His hands were big and warm and Derek was pretty sure he could
get addicted to the way they gripped tighter when he rocked his body against
Stiles’s. Shit, he’d forgotten the question.
“I forgot the question,” Derek said, out loud for Stiles's benefit.
“Me too,” Stiles said, his hands slowly sliding back to cup Derek's ass. Derek
decided that was as good a place as any to shut Stiles up. He leaned forward
and pressed his lips against Stiles’s and sure enough that strong grip on his
ass tightened just a little. He caught Stiles's plush and kiss-bitten lower lip
between his own and flicked his tongue across it, just to get the taste of it.
Suddenly Stiles’s hands had moved from Derek’s ass to his head. Long fingers
gripped Derek’s hair and pulled him in close as Stiles’s tongue surged forward
into Derek’s mouth.
Derek felt a little rush just below his sternum. He realized that must have
been what people were talking about when they said they had butterflies in
their stomachs. Stiles kissing him did that. Derek didn't know how to describe
it, other than to say Stiles kissed like he meant it, and Derek really fucking
hoped he did.
Derek rolled his hips against Stiles in a slow lazy rhythm as they kissed until
he realized could feel something pressing back; thick and hard even through two
pairs of jeans. He groaned and pulled away from the kiss, standing up just
quick enough that he almost stumbled.
“What-?”
“Just gotta get these stupid jeans off,” Derek said, cutting Stiles off mid-
protest. He unbuttoned his jeans and kicked his way out of them, leaving him
standing there in his briefs. He paused for a minute and decided that he may as
well get rid of the shirt too since he’d stripped Stiles of his.
“Those… those are really fucking hot.” Stiles said, openly staring at Derek’s
crotch. Derek preened and couldn’t resist doing a turn to give Stiles a view of
the backside, not even remotely concerned with the the slim possibility of
someone downstairs being able to see him. After all, what was the point of
having sexy underwear if you couldn’t show them off?
Derek had always been kind of picky when it came to underwear, but he’d never
shown them to anyone before. He was just now beginning to realize what a huge
waste that was, as he took in Stiles’s appreciative gaze. These particular ones
had navy and orange stripes, rode low on his hips, and hugged his ass like
nobody’s business.
“I swear to god, it's fucking Christmas,” Stiles practically growled, suddenly
lunging toward Derek to drag him back down to the bed. Stiles didn’t hesitate
letting his hands do the taking this time. He slid them up Derek’s back as he
leaned in to kiss and bite at Derek’s chest and then slid them back down again
to cup Derek’s ass through his underwear.
Derek groaned and went back to grinding in Stiles’s lap, a lot happier now that
he could feel the hard press of Stiles’s cock against him a little better. His
skin felt flushed and hot, and his thoughts seemed heated to match. He was
suddenly eager to get Stiles's cock out and see if it was really as big as it
felt, but he kind of liked the anticipation. More than that, he liked the way
Stiles’s hands were slipping down the back of his underwear to squeeze his ass.
He didn’t want to pull his eyes away from Stiles’s blissed-out face, but he had
to kiss him, taste him.
“Tell me what you want,” Stiles said, his voice as demanding as his hands.
“I wanna ride you so fucking bad.” Derek practically moaned as he took a breath
from kissing a trail of marks across Stiles’s collarbone. The way Stiles was
massaging his ass and thrusting his hips up to meet every roll of Derek’s hips
was driving him crazy.
“Jesus, yes. You’re fucking killing me, Derek,” Stiles said before pulling
Derek in to kiss him in that same hungry way that made the butterflies in
Derek’s stomach do somersaults. He could not fathom why he hadn’t done this
sooner. Kissing Stiles was amazing; maybe the best thing ever. He figured he’d
decide what the best thing ever was after he had Stiles’s dick in him. Just to
be fair.
Derek got off Stiles’s lap and dropped to the floor, kneeling between the vee
of Stiles’s legs. He went to unbutton Stiles’s jeans and pull them off,
grinning to himself at the way Stiles couldn’t keep his hands to himself even
then. He was running his hands down Derek’s forearms, through his hair, and
anywhere else he could reach. Derek understood the compulsion as he was having
a hard time keeping his mouth and tongue from traveling down Stiles’s treasure
trail. He decided it was best to follow Stiles's lead and give in to the
temptation.
Derek kissed his way down following Stiles’s zipper as he pulled it. Stiles’s
cock pushed out through the opening and Derek realized he was going commando.
The thought that Stiles’s cock was only a single layer of denim away from him
this whole time made him groan. He yanked at Stiles’s jeans and Stiles lifted
his hips so that Derek could pull them off. Finally Derek got to see what he
was working with.
It was just as big as Derek had thought, thick and curved upwards just a little
(and circumcised, which was kind of interesting to Derek). Derek thought that
if a penis could look proud, that’s what Stiles’s penis looked like; almost
smug, really. Derek was suddenly reminded that he was definitely still a little
high and most likely a little drunk too because he kind of wanted to kiss that
smug look right off of Stiles's cock. He had to laugh a little at the strange
things his mind came up with, but he was going to give it a try anyway.
“Fuuuuccckkkk…” Stiles groaned as Derek pressed a wet kiss against the tip of
his cock. Derek pulled back and saw that the damn thing looked as smug as ever.
He supposed that was its default setting, so he gave up on trying to change it,
and instead, focused on enjoying the thick, smooth feel of it in his mouth and
the salty goodness of Stiles’s precome against his tongue. He may have gotten a
little caught-up, actually, because suddenly Stiles was pulling him away.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop,” Stiles panted. Derek
couldn’t remember why that was a bad thing for a moment but when he did, he got
with the program pretty quickly.
“Be right back. Don’t. Move.” Derek said, giving Stiles the sternest look he
could muster at the moment, considering his amazingly good mood. Stiles threw
up his hands in surrender.
“Didn’t plan on it,” Stiles said with a crooked grin that made Derek a little
bit weak in the knees. It always did, he'd just never had it directed at him
while Stiles had his cock out. It made a wolf of difference.
Derek walked over to his dresser, awkwardly adjusting his hard cock as he
turned. He knew Stiles had seen by the soft chuckle, but he didn't really mind.
Since Derek had seen fit to live like a monk for the past… fucking forever, he
had plenty of lube (because monks masturbate, apparently), but no condoms.
Derek turned to Stiles with the pout to end all pouts. How the hell had he
prepared for every other situation this party might throw at him, but that one?
“What's wrong?” Stiles asked, obviously confused as to how someone could look
so depressed when they were standing there in their underwear with a bottle of
lube in hand.
“I... don't have any condoms,” Derek said, wincing, half convinced that Stiles
would decide that was the sign he'd been waiting for to call the whole thing
off. Stiles, however, just laughed.
“Dude, why didn't you just say something? God, you look like someone punched
your kitten or something. I'm pretty sure we'll be alright what with me being a
virgin and you being a werewolf. I’m cool with the um… bareback situation if
you are? Long as you can’t get pregnant, right?” Stiles said with a laugh.
Derek raised an eyebrow at him and rolled his eyes.
“Don’t tell me my lame pregnancy joke is making you want to change your mind?”
Stiles asked. Derek answered that question by tossing the lube toward the bed
and stepping forward to straddle Stiles again, but Stiles stopped him before he
could get down on the bed.
“Wait, turn around for me,” Stiles said, sitting up on the edge of the bed.
Derek obliged him and felt Stiles’s hands sliding up the backs of his thighs
till his thumbs were brushing against his underwear and slipping under. He then
let his hands continue on up Derek’s hips to slowly pull his underwear down
past the curve of his ass.
“Goddamn. Your ass is insane, Derek,” Stiles said reverently. Derek could feel
warm breath against his skin as Stiles leaned forward to kiss the small of his
back, his hands gripping Derek’s ass and kneading. As Stiles kissed his way
down the crack of Derek’s ass, he slowly spread him open more and more. Derek
suddenly felt like he needed to be leaning against something because his legs
seemed like they might give at any moment. When Stiles finally slipped his
tongue out and swiped it over his hole, Derek actually did stumble forward a
little.
Stiles was a man on a mission, though, and he wouldn’t be defeated by something
as simple as gravity. He worked Derek’s underwear the rest of the way down,
pulled Derek back towards him, and directed him with the forethought of someone
who watched far too much porn.
“Straddle me on your knees, just like before, but face away from me,” Stiles
said, and Derek was impressed at his ability to give clear and concise
directions in such a wrecked and desperate tone of voice. He did as he was
asked, Stiles's hands bracing his hips and keeping him balanced as he settled
down on Stiles’s lap again.
“Now can you lean forward and hold on to my legs?” Derek sunk forward slowly,
Stiles still holding him tight by his hips to make sure he didn’t face plant.
Apparently Stiles wasn’t going to trust Derek’s werewolf strength and grace at
this point, after the stumble earlier. Derek tried not to be irritated,
considering how much he liked Stiles’s hands on him. The position had him face
down, ass up and within easy reach of Stiles’s mouth and hands. He was able to
brace himself against Stiles’s legs well enough that he didn’t feel likely to
fall forward any time soon.
“Jesus fucking Christ. That’s beautiful,” Stiles whispered. He wasted no time
spreading Derek open and getting back to the business of rimming him. He licked
and pressed his tongue in deep, and the noise of it alone would have been
enough to send Derek reeling while the actual feeling was almost too much.
“Stiles… please,” Derek moaned and Stiles did his best to push in further,
fucking Derek with his tongue. Stiles went from tongue fucking him to long slow
licks from his perineum back up to his hole, then to little swirls with the tip
of his tongue that made Derek’s toes curl. It wasn’t long before Derek had
broken down to the point of whimpering.
“Fuck me, please. Just fuck me already,” Derek pleaded. Stiles pulled back and
gave Derek a gentle slap on the ass before pulling him up by his hips. Derek
got a little bit of a head rush as he sat back up again, but it passed pretty
quickly.
“Do you still wanna ride me?” Stiles asked, stroking his heavily leaking cock
as Derek got off the couch to stand in front of him. Derek nodded and licked
his lips, and Stiles made grabby hands at him until he was kneeling over
Stiles’s lap again, this time facing the right way. Derek grabbed the lube from
where he’d tossed it on the bed earlier and gave it to Stiles.
“You sure you don't want me to...?” Stiles drifted off, finally looking as
insecure as you would expect from someone with his level of experience.
“No. Please? I mean, unless you'd rather...”
“NO! I mean, this is good. Really good,” Stiles reassured him, pulling him in
to kiss his jaw, “So good.”
Derek huffed out a laugh, but it caught in his throat as he heard the cap of
the lube bottle open. A little rush of adrenaline went through him as he
watched Stiles slick up his fingers. Stiles looked up at him and Derek nodded
his reassurance. Stiles slowly swiped his slick fingers down Derek's crack,
finding his way to the tight hole entirely by feel.
Derek couldn't hold back the shiver that worked its way down his spine or the
way he suddenly clutched Stiles a little tighter, like a lifeline.
“Okay?” Stiles asked. Derek didn't trust his voice so he just nodded. Stiles
pressed the pad of his finger against Derek's hole, slowly spreading lube
around his entrance.
“Just relax, I got you,” Stiles whispered soothingly into Derek's ear.
“How are you so good at this?” Derek asked, a little embarrassed that he was
the one needing reassurance.
“I may have a bit of practice with this part... on myself, I mean,” Stiles
said. Derek was overcome with the mental image that inspired for a moment.
“Maybe next time, you could show me?” Derek asked, his voice almost cracking as
Stiles's finger slipped in to the first joint.
“Definitely. Anything,” Stiles said and Derek grinned at how breathless he
sounded. He was still astounded that Stiles actually wanted him. He couldn't
quite believe that all the teasing and awkward flirtation might have actually
been hinting at something bigger, just underneath the surface. At least he
really hoped that was the case and that he hadn't let his excitement coerce him
into moving too quickly when there was nothing but physical attraction between
them.
“Do you... I know this isn't the best time to bring this up... Oh fuck, never
mind,” Derek said, suddenly more embarrassed than he'd been in a long time.
“What? Talk to me,” Stiles insisted, turning Derek's face towards his with the
hand that wasn't already busy fingering him open. Derek mentally chastised
himself for having the sudden urge to bring up the feelings thing when Stiles
was already finger deep in him.
“I'm really stupid, but I just wanted to know, is this just a sex thing? Or do
you...?” Derek asked, awkwardly.
“Oh my god, seriously?” Stiles asked, suddenly laughing.
“I told you it was stupid. Sorry,” Derek mumbled, resisting the urge to just
cut and run.
“No! Oh man, I'm sorry! I'm not laughing at you, I swear. I just… Derek! I
mean, how could you not know? I'm fucking crazy about you, dude.” Derek grinned
and lunged for Stiles's mouth, completely unable to describe the feeling that
Stiles's words gave him, with anything other than a kiss.
At some point during the kiss, Stiles finally started moving his finger again,
pushing in deeper and letting Derek rock back into it as his own pace. By the
time it shifted from feeling a little awkward and strange to feeling really
incredibly amazingly good, Derek had given up on kissing and had resorted to
leaning against Stiles's shoulder and moaning shamelessly.
“There you go. Fuck Derek, so gorgeous,” Stiles said, whispering a litany of
praise into Derek's ear as he slowly worked him open. Derek felt like his chest
would expand and explode. He almost wanted to beg Stiles to stop, to just stop
talking, but he couldn't. He didn't dare.
“Please, just... I want you now,” Derek practically growled. He was pretty sure
he could feel the shudder of relief go through Stiles's body and realized that
he must have been waiting for Derek's word, afraid of moving too fast.
Stiles gently pulled his fingers out, leaving Derek empty and aching for more
as he searched for the lube. Somehow the bottle had shifted under a pillow and
Stiles snatched it up with a triumphant little shout that had Derek snorting
out a laugh. The music from the party was still blasting loud enough that Derek
was fairly certain the other werewolves couldn't hear them, but someone might
have caught that part if they'd been paying attention.
“Do you mind if I lay down on my back?” Derek asked as Stiles started slicking
up his cock. As much as Derek had enjoyed riding Stiles's fingers, he kind of
liked the thought of Stiles on top of him, holding his legs and taking control.
Stiles nodded vigorously and Derek made himself comfortable on the bed,
propping his ass up with a pillow in a brilliant stroke of forethought.
Stiles took a minute to just look at Derek before leaning in to kiss him,
sweeter and gentler than he ever had up to that point. Derek had to remember to
breathe for a moment, fingers entangled in the careless mess of Stiles's hair.
Stiles looked like he wanted to double check again and make sure Derek was
still on board, but Derek cut the question off in advance by wrapping his legs
around Stiles's waist and pulling him in.
“Geez, pushy much?” Stiles asked with a laugh. Derek just rolled his eyes. He
was a little relieved to have Stiles tease him again. It was good to be back on
familiar territory after they'd become so intimate in such a short amount of
time. Stiles tested Derek with his fingers, making sure he was still ready.
Derek resisted the urge to complain and was rewarded by Stiles positioning
himself at Derek's entrance and slowing easing himself in.
Even with all the prep Stiles had done, Derek still had to remind himself to
relax and breathe rather than clenching up and resisting. The whole while,
Stiles showered him with reassuring touches and words and Derek was yet again
thrown by the sense that somewhere deep inside he was in a complete panic
because when was the last time someone had touched him like that? Before his
mind even let him pinpoint it, the feeling was gone, almost as quick as it had
come.
Stiles began to slowly fuck Derek as his body acclimated and Derek gave himself
up to the feeling. He didn't monitor the noises coming out of his mouth and
Stiles just encouraged him, asking him how it felt and telling him that he
wanted to hear it. Derek wasn't surprised by how vocal Stiles was, but he was
kind of surprised by how much he liked it and how vocal he was in return. He
was certain he'd always been pretty quiet before, even when he was alone.
“Not gonna last, Derek. Come on, let me feel you come,” Stiles begged, rocking
in and out of Derek with increased fervor. Derek guided Stiles's hands over his
cock, showing him just how he liked it. Stiles let go just long enough to pull
Derek's in a bit closer by his hips, tilting his ass up a little more and
pushing his knees back farther. Whatever the change in position had done, it
was good. It didn't take much after that to have Derek spilling over Stiles's
fist.
“Fuck, Derek!” Stiles cursed. He grabbed Derek and crushed their mouths
together in a messy kiss as he fucked him, “Where do you want me to-?”
“Just stay in, inside me,” Derek panted and Stiles let out something really
damn close to a growl as he pounded into Derek harder before finally clutching
him tightly, his whole body jerking as he let his orgasm crash over him.
For a moment, they just lay there entangled together. Derek had hooked his
ankles around Stiles's knees and hadn't let go, gently stroking away the sweat
beads from Stiles's temples as they caught their breath (Derek much sooner than
Stiles, but there was no accounting for werewolf stamina).
“Can we just stay here?” Stiles mumbled, mouth lazily pressed into Derek's
shoulder.
“We should probably clean ourselves up and check on the party,” Derek said,
regretfully. Stiles just groaned. Neither of them were really looking forward
to the walk of shame downstairs, especially since they'd have to cross the
party to get to the bathroom and clean up properly. Derek hadn't really thought
of that when he'd insisted Stiles come inside him, but he'd been a bit caught
up in the moment.
“Come on, let's get it over with,” Derek said, nudging Stiles off of him.
Stiles finally got up and stretched a little as Derek dug through his laundry
for a towel they could use to wipe up a little. Even then, he knew there was no
hiding what they'd been up to; certainly not from the other werewolves. Derek
took a minute to pity his sister before pulling on his jeans and tee shirt.
“Getting dressed sucks,” Stiles pouted as he attempted to pull his shirt on
both inside out and backwards.
“That's only because you apparently suck at it,” Derek said, pulling on the
exposed tag of Stiles's tee shirt with a laugh. Stiles grumbled and then pulled
his shirt off to flip it the right way out.
The two of them went, surprisingly, largely unnoticed as they crept down the
spiral staircase. Apparently more time and more booze had led to an upsurge in
the amount of people on the dance floor. Derek tried to pinpoint the rest of
the pack and found everyone except Lydia and Cora, but he had the sneaking
suspicion that wherever they were, they were together.
Derek pulled Stiles by the hand toward the general direction of the bathroom.
The place was a mess, but other than that, the party seemed to be mostly under
control and Derek was determined to sneak in a quick shared shower before
joining the din again. Before they could escape unnoticed, Derek managed to
collide with Phoenix only a few feet away from the bathroom door.
“Hey! Oh... HEY!” Phoenix said, clearly realizing just what the two of them had
been up to, as she gave them a once over. Derek was pretty sure she didn't need
to use magic to come to that realization.
“Hey! Been enjoying the party?” Stiles asked.
“Oh yeah! I see you've been enjoying my gift!” Phoenix said, directing the last
half of her sentence to Derek, in particular.
“Oh yeah, that stuff was pretty good. You should give us the recipe.” Derek
said, assuming she was referring to the magical werewolf booze she'd supplied
them with.
“Oh sure, but I was talking about your relaxed new state of mind!” Phoenix
said, waggling her eyebrows a little. Derek just tilted his head in confusion.
“You know, the spell?” Phoenix asked, casually bobbing her head along with the
music.
“What the hell is she talking about, Derek?” Stiles asked, immediately
concerned and on edge. Derek's heart was thudding in his chest.
“I have no idea,” Derek said, but even as he said it things began to click in
place.
“What? How could you not realize... Dude, I did a spell on you. At the shop?
When you got all aggro on me?” Phoenix explained, confirming Derek's fears.
“You... you cast a spell on me. This... this was a spell...” Derek said. He
suddenly needed to sit down very badly.
“Woah, relax. I didn't think you'd mind. I mean, things have been better for
you right? Look how much fun you've been having!”
“Undo it, you crazy bitch!” Stiles suddenly snapped, pressing Phoenix up
against a wall.
“Back off, dude. I'll be glad to undo it. All you had to do was ask,” Phoenix
said, pushing Stiles away.
“He didn't ask for the spell in the first place,” Stiles growled.
“Do you want me to undo it, Derek?” Phoenix asked, completely ignoring Stiles
at that point.
“Of fucking course he does! Jesus, just do it!” Stiles said, but he stopped
when he saw the look on Derek's face.
“I don't... I don't know.”
“Derek!” Stiles said, looking shocked. Derek was still processing the fact that
someone had managed to affect his personality like that, and he hadn't even
noticed. Now, he was supposed to decide if he wanted to go back, when the last
couple days had been the happiest and most relaxed he'd had since the fire.
Derek needed to clear his head. He headed up the roof, hoping Stiles wouldn't
follow him, but he should have known better. Derek could hear Stiles's
heartbeat just a few steps behind, fast, but steady. Derek turned on Stiles the
moment he heard his feet hit the gravel-strewn roof.
“What, you really want me to go back to the way I was? You think I wouldn't
rather be like this? God, everything's just... it's been so easy.” Derek said.
He felt that familiar panicked scrabbling at the very back of his mind, but
this time he could pinpoint it for what it was. This time he knew it to be the
part of him that Phoenix had shut away from the rest of his mind and he really
didn't know if he wanted that part back.
“Derek, I can't... I wanted you; all of you. How can I be happy knowing that
the only reason you're with me is because someone put a spell on you?” Stiles
said and Derek could feel the pain behind his words. He wanted to argue and
tell Stiles that they would have gotten together either way, but it would be a
lie. He would have still wanted Stiles, but he likely never would have let
himself act on it. Not after... everything. No, he would have kept it locked
down like he always had.
“Jesus. Please? I promise you, if you want help I'm here. Even if you... even
if you don't want me the way you do now. Just don't let someone change your
whole personality with a fucking spell,” Stiles pleaded.
“It wasn't everything. I mean, you have to understand that, okay? I'm still
me!” Derek insisted, but he knew Stiles wasn't buying it.
“God, we all knew! I knew something was up with you, and I just ignored it. I
just- I wanted you to be happy, but I also... I liked the way you acted around
me. God, I just can't be that fucking selfish, okay? I want to tell you to
leave things the way they are, but it would be wrong. It would be really
fucking wrong and... I loved you before, ok? When you were a grouchy pain in my
ass, I still loved you. So just... change back, even if you don't want anything
to do with me anymore. I want the old Derek back, ok?” Stiles said and Derek
swallowed past the lump in his throat. It was fitting that they were having
this conversation on the roof because nothing he'd ever done made him feel so
much like jumping in his life.
Derek took a deep breath and stepped forward.
“I love you too, okay? I don't care what happens after this, even if I never- I
might not be able to say it again, but I do. Just promise you'll remember that,
okay?” Derek begged before pulling Stiles in for what might be the last kiss
they shared. He wanted so desperately to believe it wouldn't matter; that even
if he changed back to the way he was he could still be with Stiles, but he just
couldn't convince himself.
Derek turned away from Stiles and left him there on the roof. This time the
familiar sound of his footsteps didn't follow behind. Derek found Phoenix
waiting for him just inside the loft.
“I'm so sorry. I didn't know-” Phoenix started to say as Derek walked up to
her, but he cut her off.
“Just do it. Just fix it,” Derek said, afraid he might lose his nerve.
“Alright man, just... just do you,” Phoenix said. The words were as casual and
seemingly meaningless as when she'd done the spell in the first place, but this
time Derek felt more than just a strange breeze. He felt it like a knife to the
gut as a disorienting fog of panic and anger washed over him.
“Derek?” Phoenix asked as Derek backed up against the wall. Derek didn't
respond, though. All he wanted was to escape, but his loft was full of
strangers. It didn't even smell like his anymore. He didn't even smell like
himself anymore. He smelled like Stiles.
“Derek?” someone asked again, but this time it felt like it was coming from
very far away. Derek didn't understand why he couldn't breathe. Maybe something
had gone wrong with the spell.
“Derek come on, let's go.” Derek suddenly realized it was Scott talking to him,
his eyes flashing red as he put a hand on the back of Derek's neck. Derek
suddenly realized he'd been well on his way to wolfing out in the middle of the
party. He took control of himself long enough to follow Scott out of the loft.
Isaac cleared a path to the elevator, just in case Derek lost control again and
wolfed out.
Derek felt his stomach churn, shame washing over him for so many reasons. God,
how did he not realize he'd been under a spell? He wondered to himself if
Stiles was still on the roof or if he'd come to see what had happened and then
immediately realized he couldn't face him. He didn't want to see the
disappointment on his face when he realized that they were stuck with old
damaged Derek in place of fun, relaxed Derek.
Scott directed Derek to his own car and let him collapse back against it. Derek
fought back the shame at having needed his Alpha to step in for him. After all,
he'd been an Alpha first. Scott wasn't pushing him, though. Instead he stood
back and waited for Derek to regain control.
“What happened, Derek?” Scott finally asked when Derek seemed calm enough to
approach. Derek took a breath and began to explain Phoenix's spell. He
recognized the look on Scott's face because it was the same look Stiles had
gotten when heard. The “I should have known” look.
“I guess you were right about that witch in the first place,” Scott said, but
Derek just shook his head, surprisingly unsatisfied with hearing that he was
right.
“No, I think she honestly thought she was doing me a favor. I don't think she's
a bad person, she just... makes really bad choices,” Derek said.
“Kinda reminds me of someone else I know,” Scott said, giving Derek a
significant look and, yeah, Derek kind of deserved that. Images of Paige, Kate,
and Jennifer-or Julia- all flashed through his head.
“Well, you know what they say, the road to hell-”
“Paved with good intentions,” Scott finished, a bit bitterly, and Derek
realized that Scott may have actually been talking about himself rather than
Derek. He thought back to the fiasco with Gerard Argent and was once again hit
with the realization that he and Scott had a lot more in common than he often
realized.
“So what are you going to do about Stiles?” Scott asked, and Derek thought
carefully before answering.
“I don't know. I wasn't ready for this, but I don't want to hurt him either.
I...”
“You love him,” Scott finished. Derek nodded minutely. That much was still
clear as day in his mind, but now he was also burdened with the knowledge that
everything he loved either died or tried to kill him. Some dark and fucked up
part of him thought that the best he could do at that point was just hope that
Stiles decided to kill him before someone or something decided to kill Stiles.
“Don't give up on him, man. Maybe... maybe you don't need a spell to be happy
if you just let yourself.” Scott said, stepping forward to pat Derek on the
shoulder before turning back toward the loft, “You coming back in?”
“No. Not yet. I think I need to clear my head a little before....” Derek
trailed off. Scott just nodded and headed inside.
“I will be back though,” Derek added, hoping that Scott would understand. He
wasn't giving up. Not yet.
“I know,” Scott called without turning back.
Derek didn't bother getting in his car. He just hit the back alleys and ran and
wasn't even remotely surprised when his feet carried him to his old home
without hesitation.
Derek hadn't been back to the old house since he'd helped Scott with his
tattoo, but he'd heard from Sheriff Stilinski when the city finally tore it
down. Cora had gone back to see what the place looked like after, but Derek
couldn't. Whatever Cora had seen, she didn't bother sharing it with him. Now
Derek understood why.
In place of the moldering ruins of his childhood home, there was nothing but a
pit in the ground. A giant scab in the earth where there once was a foundation.
Even when it was a tower of crumbling ash, the house had always seemed so
constant and permanent to Derek. Everything else could disappear, but that
house would always stand.
All it had taken was a few days and a handful of city workers with backhoes and
excavators to tear it all down.
Derek remembered a quote he'd heard once that said, “There is nothing permanent
except change.” Now he was staring at the proof of it. Maybe, Derek thought, it
was time for him to change too.
Derek turned his back on his old home and headed back to his new one to chase
out the hordes of drunk teenagers that he'd let infest it. He only hoped Stiles
had stuck around. He knew it was stupid to expect Stiles to wait for him, but
damn if a little optimism hadn't stuck around after the spell had been lifted.
By the time Derek made it back to the loft, the place had already started to
clear out with a little help from Scott, Isaac, Lydia and Cora (the latter two
had apparently shown up while he was out and were now wearing different
clothes).
 
“Everyone, out!” Derek boomed, his voice echoing throughout the loft. That
seemed to do it for the stragglers. A few people tried to bump Derek's fist as
they crowded past him toward the exit, but Derek resisted the urge to snarl and
kept his arms folded across his chest.
The pack were the last to leave, Stiles following along behind Scott and doing
his best to avoid making eye contact as he walked past. Derek caught him by the
sleeve.
“Not you,” he said. Scott gave Derek a look that conveyed just about all the
over-protective best friend threats he could fit in one glance. Derek just gave
him an exasperated sigh, but Scott seemed to understand and herded the rest of
the pack out into the elevator.
For a moment after the loft had finally emptied, they were left with nothing
except the quiet between them, but Derek wasn't surprised to find he could
still rely on Stiles to break the silence.
“So... I guess you're probably pretty pissed about the party,” Stiles said, jaw
clenched as he continued to do his level best to avoid Derek's eyes.
“Not really,” Derek let the surprise register on Stiles's face before
continuing, “Pretty pissed that you got me to dance in front of people though,”
Derek said, only half concealing his grin as Stiles's eyes finally snapped to
his.
“Yeah? Are you saying you would have danced with me in private?” Stiles said,
his voice carrying a bravado that his heartbeat belied.
“I could be coerced.” Derek said with a flippant shrug.
“Could be? As in, future tense?” Stiles asked carefully. Derek nodded, and with
a speed that was downright impressive for a human, Stiles was on him, kissing
him with an urgency that Derek shared because, oh god, they could still do
this. They could still have this, even as Derek fought back the panicked inner-
voice telling him it could still all go to hell. Derek managed to pry Stiles
away long enough to catch his breath and speak.
“You have to know, I'm not... It won't be easy.”
“Oh, my god. When has anything with you ever been easy? Easy is boring!” Stiles
said, hands gesturing erratically as he spoke.
“I mean it. I'm fucking terrified of you, honestly,”-Stiles snorted out a
laugh, but Derek continued- “Seriously. I don't know if I'll always be what you
want, but I'm always going to want you. I'm always going to think that
everything you cook is the best thing I've ever tasted, even if I don't always
remember to tell you, and I'm always going to think you're funny, even if I try
not to laugh. I'm not really good at this, but... I still think we could be
good.”
Stiles's face did something between smiling at Derek's heartfelt sentiments and
cringing at how unforgivably sappy he was being before he finally spoke.
“I'm a fucked up asshole too, dude, but if you can deal with my erratic moods
and rants and my utter inability to accept even your most well-meaning attempts
at telling me what to do, then I'll try my best to deal with your crazy too,
okay?” Stiles said, punctuating his speech with a gentle kiss.
Derek just nodded into the kiss as the voice in his head said (a little less
bitterly and a little more affectionately), ”Oh, he's definitely going to kill
you.”
                     [_photo_Vibe-Divider_zps75ba8d94.png]
Epilogue
Derek drove toward the Beacon Hills Preserve in an unfamiliar truck. Stiles sat
in the passenger seat with his legs folded into some heinously uncomfortable
looking position as he hummed along to the Usher song playing through the CD
player. Ever since Derek had started opening up about his tastes in music
Stiles had taken great delight in making him a CD of 90's and early thousands
R&B and hip hop.
Apparently Derek's secret love of slow jams was a great source of amusement for
Stiles. Derek didn't mind it, mostly because it meant a break from Mumford and
Sons and The Lumineers. If Derek never heard another folksy hipster rock
ballad, it would be too soon.
“I can sense you thinking negative things about me, you know,” Stiles said,
glaring at Derek from the passenger seat.
“No, I'm just not very good at schooling my features,” Derek replied
flippantly. Stiles scoffed.
“You're not denying it!”
“I'm not confirming it either,” Derek said, turning to flash a quick smile
Stiles's way because he'd learned very quickly that his most charming smile did
more to piss Stiles off than it ever did to get him out of trouble (and Derek
had a weakness for irritating Stiles, it was apparently how he showed love).
Sure enough, Stiles just glared at him and rolled his eyes.
“You know we have a whole pack full of perfectly good wolf-power to help us
with this,” Stiles said, gesturing to the load they were carrying in the back
of the borrowed pick up.
“I know, but I want you to help me,” Derek said. Stiles didn't argue. He'd
never been serious about his complaint in the first place.
They pulled up to the site of Derek's old house and Derek backed the truck up
as close as he could to the wide circle of fresh dirt that filled in the former
foundation of his house. The fill dirt was still too soft to drive on, but
Derek wasn't going to complain since that same softness would make their task
all the easier.
They jumped out of the truck and Derek tossed Stiles a pair of work gloves,
laughing as Stiles fumbled the catch and tried to play it off smooth. They each
grabbed a shovel and got to work digging a deep hole, right in the center of
the new fill-dirt.
Derek was surprised at how well Stiles managed to keep up with him, but he
blamed that on his own propensity to be distracted by the hypnotic flex of the
muscles in Stiles's hands and arms as he dug. Between the two of them, it
wasn't long before they had an appropriately sized square hole ready.
Stiles went to the borrowed pick up and opened the back hatch to let Derek pull
out the birch tree they'd been carrying. Stiles had helped him decide on the
birch tree based on its Celtic symbolism. Apparently it symbolized growth,
renewal, and adaptability, but also stability. Derek had agreed that it was
pretty damn appropriate, all things considered. Once they knew what they were
looking for, they actually managed to find a species that already grew in the
preserve.
Derek centered the tree in the hole and held it steady as Stiles filled the
dirt in around the roots. Once the hole was filled in, they started hauling out
the heavy buckets of water they'd hauled over to initially water the tree. It
would have been a lot easier if they'd had a hose, but they would manage. The
last step was to stake the tree in place, at least for a year or so.
They stepped back and admired their work and Derek felt at peace with the loss
of his home in a way he hadn't since the fire. He remembered the pain he'd felt
at seeing the gaping hole that stood in the place of his old home and he'd
known he had to do something about it or it would continue to gnaw at him. Now
there was something growing and living there again.
“It looks kinda lonely,” Stiles pointed out.
“Give it time. Other things will start to grow here now,” Derek said.
“It's a good start,” Stiles said and Derek couldn't fight the grin that came to
his lips. He didn't know why, but he had the strangest feeling they weren't
talking about the tree anymore.
Derek kissed Stiles's smiling, dirt-smudged face and went to climb back in the
pickup.
“Come on. I borrowed Rock Band from Danny. I call dibs on singing,” Derek
called from the driver's seat.
“You're kidding,” Stiles deadpanned. Derek just laughed and cranked up his slow
jam mix CD as they headed back home.
End Notes
     Huge thank you to Cybel for the rad art :) and a big thanks to the
     folks over at the Teen Wolf Big Bang community! Another big thanks to
     anyone that read and enjoyed this self-indulgent little Sterek
     adventure lol.
     If you'd like to check out my Tumblr, I'm reppin' Teen Wolf and SPN
     right over here.
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