Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/652820.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale, Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf), Jackson
      Whittemore, Lydia_Martin, Allison_Argent, Erica_Reyes, Vernon_Boyd, Isaac
      Lahey, Danny_Mahealani, Peter_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      OC, Tengu, a_little_dark, Fluffy, has_a_plot_(shocker), Necromancy
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-24 Updated: 2013-04-14 Chapters: 10/? Words: 60595
****** Ghosts of the Heart ******
by MonkOfTheNorth
Summary
     Derek, needing help to track down a mysterious scent of mountain
     flowers and death, goes to Stiles for assistance. After finding the
     source, the pack is on their guard against powerful magics and
     mysterious ghosts. But other problems spring up for the pack after
     they butt heads with and unknown group of hunters, problems that come
     in the form of a type of werecreature the group has never seen
     before. Stiles and Derek find something in the midst of the chaos,
     but with their attention turned to the werecreatures, they lower
     their guard against the source of the mysterious scent. Will they be
     able to survive one of their most threatening challenges yet, or will
     the pressure tear the group to shreds? And what will become of Stiles
     Derek?
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Burt's *****
Stiles’ eyes squinted suspiciously at his bed, covers in hand. It was the third
week in a row that he woke up to the right side of his bed tousled and warm. He
didn’t know why, he made it a point to only ever sleep on the left. It was his
good side of the bed. Maybe he had taken to thrashing around in his sleep, he
didn’t know. He was taken out of his thoughts by the fact that he simply
stopped caring about three seconds before. It was Saturday, which meant no
school! He leapt from his bed and pulled on a grass-green tee-shirt and some
old jeans over his Green Lantern boxers and hopped down the stairs, happily,
with a huge smile after quickly brushing his teeth, not even bothering with a
shower.
Oh, the things that day would bring! He was so excited for it to start that he
quickly grabbed a bagel as breakfast and flew out the door, completely blazing
by the routine “I’ve gone to work and I’m going to be home late” note his dad
left. He opened the door to his jeep and hopped inside, making the car bounce.
He was so excited and he didn’t know why! All he knew was that today was going
to be awesome! It had to be! The first thing he was going to do was!... was… He
absentmindedly tapped the bagel against his head in deep thought. What was he
going to do today?
He had just remembered he had nothing to do…at all! His eyes stared at the
garage as he nibbled on the very tip of the bagel in the silent car. He knew
that Scott was playing lacrosse with Isaac, the jerk, and that everyone
else…well, would never want to hang out with him alone unless they had to. He
rolled his eyes and ripped off a huge bite of the bagel and barely chewed it
before he swallowed, a little painfully. He didn’t know what he was going to
do, but he’d be damned if he was going to be cooped up in the house all day. He
started his jeep and turned his head to back out of the driveway when his heart
practically stopped and his eyes widened in shock.
“Oh my God! What the hell, dude?! How?!-Why are you in my car?!” He was face-
to-face with a certain dark-haired, broody sourwolf, being assaulted with a
hard scowl.
“We need to talk.” He growled out. As soon as those words hit Stiles’ ears he
knew it. That day was going to suck!
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Stiles led Derek up to his room (probably the first time Derek had ever used
his front door) with a pout on his face and he stomped up the stairs like a
child. Every fucking time! Every time he wanted a great, feel-good, care-free
day, something like this had to come up. Stupid sourwolves with their stupid
leather jackets and perfectly gelled hair… He threw himself on his bed,
dramatically, and buried his head in his pillow. He heard a click as Derek shut
the door behind them and moved into the room. “Stiles.” Derek growled.
“Stiles isn’t here right now, please leave a message. Beep!” Stiles said, his
voice muffled by the pillow. He knew the werewolf could understand him though.
“All right. Hey Stiles, it’s Derek. If you don’t sit up right now and stop
acting like a fucking child, I’ll rip your throat out… with my teeth.” Stiles
could hear the bite in his voice. He threw his fist into the mattress before he
turned over and sat up. “Real original, Derek, you really need to come up with
some new material.” Stiles mocked. Another glare from Derek made him throw his
hands into the air with a defeated groan. “Fine! What is it?”
“Something’s different.” Derek said. Silence hung in the air and Stiles
twitched, waiting for more, but it never came.
“You’re kidding me, right? Can you elaborate?!”
“I smell something…in the air. It’s something I’ve never smelled before.”
“A smell…” Stiles couldn’t help but become a little frustrated by the broody
man’s lack of the ability to use words. Derek huffed in annoyance. “A smell of
power, a power I can’t identify.” Stiles snapped to attention after hearing the
word ‘power’. Some unidentified source of power definitely wouldn’t bode well
for future awesome days…if they ever came. He stood only to walk over and plop
down in his desk chair, swiveling around to look at Derek again. “Alright, what
do you want from me then?” Stiles asked, truly curious.
“I need you to help me find out what it is.”
“What, like information? I need a little more to go on if you want me to find
out what it is.”
“Like what?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows and turned his head like a confused
puppy dog.
“Well, do you know where this ‘smell’ is coming from… or who it’s coming from?”
“No…” Derek said quietly, almost mumbling. Stiles let out a quick huff of
breath. “Well then the first thing we should do is track where the smell is
coming from.” Derek narrowed his eyes.
“We?”
“Yes, dude, we. You did ask for my help.”
“No. It could be dangerous and I don’t feel like babysitting a hyperactive man-
child.” Derek turned to leave but Stiles sprang from the chair and moved in
front of him, blocking his path to the door. “Derek! I wanna help!” he whined.
Stiles didn’t even realize what had happened until his back hit the door with a
painful thud. Derek pinned him against the door, getting up in his personal
space. That seemed vaguely familiar… Stiles was brought back to reality by
Derek’s gritty, threatening voice. “I said no.” His hot breath ran over Stiles’
face as he spoke.
“Come on, man! I’m not going to be cooped up in here all day with nothing to
do. Let me help.” Derek glared at him. “Please?” he begged, throwing in a
cheesy-looking smile. He saw Derek thinking it over and soon his hand dropped
from its grip on Stile’s shirt. “Fine.” He said in a grudging tone. Victory!
“Great! Come on boy, let’s go find Timmy!” Stiles slipped out the door and was
down the stairs before Derek even had a chance to respond. He heard Stiles yell
from downstairs. “We’ll take my car!” He heard the door slam shut. Derek rolled
his eyes. It was going to be one of those days…
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
They had been driving around for about an hour with Derek’s head hanging out
the window, sniffing the air. Stiles was getting bored already and the groaning
in his stomach didn’t help things either. He never did finish his bagel. “Dude,
I’m booored! How long does it take to track a smell? You have wolf-powers for
God’s sake!” Derek took his head back in the car and rolled up the window. “You
were the one that insisted on coming along!” he responded. An awkward gurgle
erupted from Stiles and Derek eyed him. “What? I’m hungry.”
“Didn’t you eat breakfast?” Derek asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft
and laced with something Stiles couldn’t quite identify.
“Not unless you count one bite of a bagel as breakfast.” Stiles quipped.
“There’s a burger joint just up ahead we can go to.” Stiles’ face turned up
with a huge grin. “A burger joint?” he mocked, with a small snicker. Derek just
glared at him but Stiles kept smiling anyway. They pulled into the parking lot
of the ‘burger joint’ and parked next to a sign sitting on top of an old, rusty
barrel. “Burt’s?” Stiles asked, scrunching up his face. He was met with silence
as Derek got out and started walking toward the restaurant. Stiles just
shrugged and followed him inside, half jogging to keep up. He coughed a little
as they entered the small place from the heavy smoke in the air. The place was
more of a bar than anything else, complete with a long counter along the far
wall with an assortment of liquor behind it and scruffy-looking suspects
occupying the stools. Two pool tables graced the right, over near the
bathrooms, and Stiles observed the men playing pool, big biker men covered in
tattoos and denim. There were a few tables in the left corner and he followed
Derek as they seated themselves.
“This place is…nice?” Stiles tried to make small talk, but he wasn’t really
sure what to say about the dirt-hole he was sitting in. Derek just gave a
little smirk, barely even noticeable, and Stiles almost thought it was just in
his head before a bubbly woman appeared at their table. “Hey. Sweetie.” She
said to Derek. Stiles’ heart almost stopped beating. What did she think she was
doing?! No one could call Derek ‘sweetie’ and not get their throat clawed out!
To his complete and utter surprise Derek smiled at her with a big, toothy grin.
Smiled! Derek! “Hey, Pamela, how’s it going?” he asked.
“Oh, not too bad. What can I get ya boys?” She asked, taking a pen from between
the bun of her dirty blonde hair. The middle-aged woman took a moment to give
Stiles a once-over and he blushed as he saw Derek smirk again. “I’ll have the
usual. Get my…friend here the same, but well-done.” Derek made piercing eye
contact with Stiles at the word ‘friend’ and his storm-grey eyes lingered for a
few moments, making Stiles forget about his witty ‘I can order for myself’
comment. Stiles blushed a soft pink and cast his gaze awkwardly to the table,
although for the life him he didn’t know why.
“All right, I’ll tell Burt.” She winked at Derek with a smile and walked off
toward the kitchens. Stiles’ mouth was open like a fish’s as Derek looked at
him with a blank face. “What?” he asked. Stiles’ mouth closed and a mischievous
smirk appeared in its place. “Come her often…sweetie?” He asked, playfully, his
smirk evolving into a huge grin at the last part. Derek pressed his lips
together angrily and glared at him. “Oh, so she can say it but I can’t?” Stiles
complained. Derek didn’t say anything and just kept glaring. After a while
Stiles gave up, not really feeling threatened by Derek. He rested his elbow on
the small, two-person table and looked up at the walls. They were covered in
pictures, sports related items, and alcohol logos.
He was completely entertained with looking at the stuff on the walls, probably
fueling his ADD. They even had a bull’s head and a dart board! They sat in a
surprisingly comfortable silence before Stiles jumped as he heard a heavy glass
hit the table. “Here ya go.” Pamela said, placing a mug of beer in front of
Derek who accepted it with a nod. “I got you,” she gestured to Stiles, placing
a mug of a dark, bubbly liquid in front of him, “a Coke, hun. Your food’ll be
done soon ‘n I’ll bring it to ya.” She glided away with another smile as Stiles
watched her disappear through the smoky room.
He turned his attention back to Derek, his eyes lingering on Stiles’ throat
with his mouth open just slightly and his eyes glazed over. “Um…” Stiles said.
Derek snapped his eyes up and looked away. Stiles could swear he saw some color
in his cheeks but he chose to ignore it. He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly
before breaking the silence. “So if you had to guess, what do you think this
power is?”
“That’s the whole reason I came to you, I don’t know.” He answered, apparently
brave enough to look Stiles in the eye again.
“Humor me.” Derek’s face pinched together slightly as he thought.
“Well, it smells strange, like meadow flowers and death mixed in with the smell
of massive power.” It was an odd description, but at least it was something.
“Death? That sounds…gross.” Stiles said, scrunching up his nose. Another smirk
met Derek’s lips and Stiles couldn’t help but smile in response. “It is gross,
that’s why I want to know what it is. Generally things that smell like death
are bad.” Stiles couldn’t argue with that logic.
“What do meadow flowers have to do with it?” he asked.
“Everyone has a distinct smell, for instance Scott smells like salt and freshly
cut grass. I’m guessing the meadow flowers are the smell of whomever or
whatever we’re looking for.” Derek explained.
“Really? What do I smell like?” Stiles blurted out, not really thinking.
Derek’s eyes sunk to the table which, for some reason, annoyed Stiles a little.
“Come on I want to know! What’s my scent?” he pushed. Derek slowly looked up at
Stiles.
“Chocolate.”
Derek held his gaze and Stiles blushed again but couldn’t look away. Time
ticked by and Stiles could feel himself sinking into the vast ocean of beauty
and mystery that were Derek’s eyes. Something was in his eyes that Stiles
couldn’t identify and he desperately searched them for an answer. His breath
slowed to the point where he was barely breathing and his heart sped up,
feeling like it was going to burst through his chest. The moment hung for what
seemed like an eternity and Stiles couldn’t escape it. He jumped again at
another clunk on the table. Two large, steaming plates were placed in front of
them. “There ya are.” Pamela said, “If you need anything else just holler.” She
practically skipped away back to the kitchen. Thank God she came when she did
because that moment was getting way too heavy for his little Stiles heart to
handle. He watched as Derek skewered a large piece of meat with his fork, not
even bothering to use a knife, and brought it to his mouth, tearing at it with
his teeth.
Stiles just registered what they were eating and rolled his eyes. “Steak? Are
you serious? It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning! I thought we were
getting burgers!” He threw his arms up in an outrageous gesture. Derek just
eyed him from across the table with blood dripping down his mouth from his
apparently incredibly rare steak, still trying to rip off a bite. “I rike
sterrrk.” He said, his voice distorted by the meat in his mouth. Stiles just
sighed and picked up a knife and sawed into his steak. They ate in silence, and
Stiles did everything in his power to avoid Derek’s gaze, not wanting to get
pulled in again. Derek finished his food long before Stiles and just sat there
staring at him. Stiles hesitantly brought the last piece of his incredibly
delicious steak to his mouth, trying not to notice Derek staring at his lips.
“Soooo…” Stiles started to say, “Where are the bathrooms?” Derek pointed past
the pool tables and Stiles audibly gulped, seeing the big, burly men that could
easily rip him in half were blocking the entrance. “I’ll be right back.” Derek
just shrugged, taking the check to pay the bill and walked off toward Pamela.
Stiles hesitantly walked toward the bathrooms, coming up on the pool table. Did
he really need to pee that bad? The pressure in his groin told him that, yes,
he did. The best route around to the bathrooms was past the biggest man there.
He was bent over, preparing to make a shot and Stiles was sure he could quickly
slip behind him. He crept forward but being the awkward, clumsy person he was,
tripped over his own feet and bumped into the biker.
His pool stick hit the white ball at a strange, unexpected angle and knocked
into the eight ball. Stiles watched in slow-motion horror as the ball slowly
rolled toward the corner pocked and plopped in. He stood there, frozen, as the
huge bearded man spun around with fire in his eyes and grabbed his arm. “You
little shit! You just cost me three hundred dollars!” the man ground out
through gritted teeth in a vicious, out for blood voice. He squeezed Stiles’
arm painfully and he could feel his knees giving out as he screwed his eyes
shut. Just as quickly as the pain had come, it vanished, and Stiles cracked
open his eyes to see Derek had grabbed the man’s wrist and wrenched his hand
away from Stiles’ arm. He unconsciously moved behind Derek, grasped his shirt
and buried his face into his back.
“Don’t fucking touch him!” Derek snarled.
“Or what, pretty-boy?” The biker questioned, his hands balling into fists.
Derek’s eyes narrowed.
“Or I’ll fucking kill you.” His voice was ice and his eyes flashed red. That
seemed to surprise the biker but after a moment he swung his fist at Derek
anyway. Stiles moved away as Derek caught it mid-swing and squeezed hard. He
could hear bones crack under the pressure and he winced at the sound. The biker
sunk to his knees and Derek used his other fist to knock the massive man out,
easily. Derek turned, not even looking at the utterly shocked Stiles as he
grabbed his wrist and guided them toward the door. “See you later, Pamela!” he
said, not looking back. “See you later, sweetie!” she answered acting like
Derek knocking out customers was completely normal, which it probably was.
Derek finally released his wrist as they got into the jeep but instantly had
his hands on Stiles arm, inspecting the already forming bruise. Stiles tried
not to blush at the attention and hot hands sliding gently across his pale skin
but he failed miserably. Derek pulled away after a while and looked at Stiles
with a hard but concerned face. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the
werewolf and settled for staring at the steering wheel. “Thanks…you know, for
what you did in there…stepping in I mean.” Stiles bumbled out awkwardly. “It
wasn’t your fault, that guy was an asshole. He got what was coming to him.”
Derek said, his voice dripping with anger toward the biker.
They sat in silence for a minute or two, Derek staring at Stiles and Stiles
staring at the wheel. He slowly raised his eyes to look up at Derek.
“Derek?...” he said tentatively.
“Yeah?” His voice came out even and controlled.
“…I still have to pee.”
Derek just rolled his eyes and sighed.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Stiles and Derek spent over seven more hours out on the town searching for the
mysterious meadow flower power child, or whatever it was. Stiles didn’t mind,
though, he liked spending time with Derek a lot more than he thought he would.
After searching for a few hours and finding nothing, Stiles had convinced Derek
to go to the mall. It took a lot of convincing and begging and pleading for
mercy when Derek grabbed his throat in annoyance, but Stiles eventually got his
way like he always did.
He could clearly see by the permanent scowl on his face that Derek wasn’t
having a good time as he excitedly searched the isles of a gaming store and
that only made it all the sweeter. “Stiles, I’m this close to actually killing
you.” Derek said, finally having enough. “Oh, why do you always have to be such
a sourwolf?” Stiles said, never looking away from a game case he was studying.
Derek lifted up his arms. They had about ten fully loaded bags from various
stores hanging off of them. “Don’t you think you have enough stuff?!”
“You can never have enough stuff when it comes to the mall, my friend.” Stiles
looked over at some girls giggling in the corner. They were smiling stupidly
and pointing over at him and Derek while whispering. Derek’s face had a hint of
pink in it and Stiles guessed the girls were talking about them. “Stiles, can
we please go?!” Stiles groaned in exasperation. “Fine, just one more store and
we’ll go, I promise!” Stiles happily led Derek to his favorite store in the
whole world ‘Simply Super’. It was an entire store devoted to superhero
merchandise! How awesome, right?! He caught Derek acting a little strange in
the corner if his eye but disregarded it and excitedly started to browse.
Everything was so amazing and he wanted it all. Batman alarm clocks, Thor
toolboxes, Wolverine kitchen knife blocks, even Power Puff Girl bed sheets! He
stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the most amazing thing ever across the
way.
He absentmindedly walked over to it, standing next to the person that was
already looking at it. It was a Green Lantern lamp. The base was Green Lantern
himself with his arm thrust into the air and the light shade was the green
energy pouring out of his ring. It was perfect. He was pulled out of his
thoughts by a voice next to him. “Pretty cool, huh?” it said. Stiles looked up
at the boy next to him. He met striking blue eyes contrasting heavily with
short, thick, black hair done up into a fohawk. He looked about the same age as
Stiles and wore a cautious smile. “Yeah it is! You like Green Lantern?”
The boys smile widened. “Yeah, he’s my favorite. I was gonna get this for my
room. I don’t have much stuff, I just moved here. I don’t really need it,
though, so… you can take it.” The boy said. Stiles saw a blush come through on
his pale cheeks but shrugged it off, holding out his hand to the stranger.
“Welcome to Beacon Hills, my name’s Stiles.” He said with a smile. “Jacob.” The
boy replied, grasping his hand with a smile and another blush. Stiles let out a
small noise of protest as Derek swatted his hand away from Jacob’s and stepped
between them, using his hand to move an unwilling Stiles behind his back.
“Dude, what the hell?!” he protested. “Stiles, get away from him.” Derek said
his eyes never leaving Jacob. Stiles could hardly believe his ears. He knew
Derek could be a jerk but that was just plain rude. “What, no!” Stiles objected
again. Derek growled low in his chest. “Stiles! Get…away…now!” he said, clearly
trying to control his temper. Jacob looked hurt and confused about what was
going on. “Maybe I should just go…” he said, sadly.
“No! Derek is just being a jerk. Just-Can you excuse me for one second?”
Jacob just slowly nodded and eyed them both suspiciously. Stiles angrily
grabbed Derek’s wrist and pulled him off to the side. “Dude, what the hell?!”
he whispered loudly. Derek looked at him with a serious face. “It’s him.”
“What?” Stiles asked, genuinely confused.
“The smell? Meadow flowers and death? It’s him!” Stile’s face turned even paler
as he realized what Derek was saying. He threw a glance at Jacob and forced a
smile as they made eye contact. Stiles pulled Derek a little further away. “Are
you sure?” he asked in disbelief that the innocent-looking teen could be
anything evil or malicious. “Yeah, I’m positive.”
“What do you want to do?” Stiles asked.
“We need to get away from him for right now and we need to make sure that we do
it in a way that won’t raise suspicion.”
“Well how do you suggest we do that, I was in the middle of introducing
myself!”
“Just say you have somewhere to be!”
Stiles’ mouth dropped in playful disbelief. “No, man, that’s rude and I don’t
want to seem like an asshole!”
“Well until we know what he is, does it fucking matter?!” Derek huffed out in
annoyance.
“Yes! I have an image to uphold as the fun and perky nice guy that I am you
know.” Derek pressed his lips together in thought.
“Tell him I’m your boyfriend.” Stiles’ breath hitched.
“Wha- What?...” he asked in shock.
“Tell him that I’m your… that I’m your boyfriend and I get easily jealous.”
Derek said, stumbling around the word ‘boyfriend’. Stiles could not believe
that what they were discussing was reality. Did Derek Hale, the master of
macho-ness, just tell him to pretend he was his boyfriend? “Stiles!”
“Ok, ok!” They nodded at each other silently acknowledging the plan. Stiles
spun around with a smile on his face, ready to face Jacob. His smile faded,
however, when he saw that he was gone, along with the awesome Green Lantern
lamp. They both frantically looked around the store, not seeing him anywhere
and Stiles angrily turned to Derek and smacked him on the stomach, hand meeting
rock-hard muscle. “Nice going, Derek! Not only is he gone now but you managed
to make me look like an asshole!” Derek just gave him yet another trade mark
glare and Stiles sighed.
“Should we follow him?” he asked. Derek looked like he was thinking. “No. He
looked about your age, right? And he said he was new. That means he’ll probably
be at your High School, right?”
“I mean it’s possible. Unless he decided to go to Midtown High, but that school
is shit, so probably not.”
“Good. Now listen to me carefully. Do not talk to him by yourself. Tell Scott
and let him handle it. The pack wastes enough time protecting you from danger.”
Derek said in an almost too uncaring tone. Stiles face sunk into absolute hurt.
“A waste of time? I can fucking take care of myself, asshole! How many times
have I saved your ass?! Huh? How many?!” Stiles seethed with anger.
“I-I didn’t mean-” Derek tried to say but Stiles cut him off.
“No! I don’t want to hear it! You made me mad, dog-boy! Bad dog!” Derek glared
at his use of the terms but Stiles didn’t care as he continued. “Now, I’m going
to make you walk home and storm off angrily in my jeep but before I do you’re
going to carry my stuff out to the car…because it’s heavy and I don’t want to!”
Derek opened his mouth to protest but Stiles held up a finger silencing him.
“Nope. Come on, I’m not getting any younger.” Stiles said as he moved out of
the store. Derek followed with an annoyed face and clenched fists. When he
finished loading Stiles’ bags into the car it was Stiles’ turn to give him a
glare and he sped off leaving Derek in the parking lot.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Stiles was mad. How could Derek say that about him?! He knew he wasn’t a
werewolf, that he was just a human, but he could fucking take care of himself!
Right?... He had just finished brushing his teeth and getting ready for the
night and he came into his room and sat on his bed.
Maybe he was overreacting; he tended to do a lot of that. He pulled off his
shirt and pants, stripping down to his Green Lantern boxers and slipped under
the covers on the left side of his bed.
Now that he thought about it, he was overreacting. I mean, Derek was wrong for
what he said, but it did have some truth behind it. Maybe he should apologize
the next time he saw Derek. A snicker slipped from his lips. ‘Apologize to
Derek’, words he never thought he’d say. It didn’t matter now, though. It was
late and Stiles was tired. He rubbed the bruise on his arm from where the biker
had grabbed him and remembered how Derek had stepped in to rescue him. He
wasn’t such a bad guy.
Stiles made up his mind, he would apologize to Derek the next time he saw him.
A smile crept onto Stiles’ face and his eyelids started to droop as he fell
into sleep thinking about Derek.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
He was such an idiot! Why had he said that to Stiles?! He should have known how
much it would have hurt him and seeing the look on his face after he said it
had nearly killed him. Derek walked the streets of the neighborhood in the
darkness of the night. It was almost one o’clock in the morning and he couldn’t
sleep, just like he couldn’t for the past few weeks. Every time he closed his
eyes he’d think about a certain hyperactive man-child and he would become
restless and irritated.
Derek walked across the lawn of a house and came to the side, looking up and
the second story window. He could hear a calm, steady heartbeat and knew that
the occupant of the room was asleep. He easily scaled the wall and perched on
the segment of roof just outside the window, slipping his claws under the seal
to pry it open. A warm familiar smell hit his senses and he could already feel
his restlessness ease from him. He quietly crept inside and moved over to the
bed, content with just looking down at the beautiful pale fool in the bed, but
only for a moment.
He took off his leather jacket and hung it on the back of the desk chair at the
end of the bed before stripping off the rest of his clothes until he was in his
underwear, hard muscles glowing in the moonlight. Slowly he peeled back the
covers and slipped inside, scooting up against the teen until he chest was
flush against the slightly smaller boy’s back. Derek draped and arm around his
waist and froze when he mumbled something and squirmed against him. After a few
moments the teen seemed to drift back into a calm slumber and Derek used his
arm to pull the boy closer and bury his nose in the crook of his neck,
breathing in the familiar scent.
Chocolate.
A smile tugged its way onto Derek’s face as he could already feel himself being
lulled to sleep in the comfort of the warmth in his arms.
Thank God Stiles was such a heavy sleeper.
***** Ghosts and Chocolate Snuggles *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Derek stood in the living room of the burnt husk of the old Hale house with his
arms crossed and a scowl plastered on his face. He had called a pack meeting to
discuss what he and Stiles had discovered yesterday. That ‘Jacob’ kid had
gotten too close to Stiles and Derek hated himself for letting it happen. He
knew he should have smelled the danger, but every time he was around the pale-
skinned boy his senses were invaded by everything that Stiles had to offer. He
was so distracted by his scent that he didn’t even notice until it was too
late. He couldn’t even imagine if something would have happened to Stiles
because he had been too caught up by the boy to even protect him from danger.
He was such an idiot.
“Is there a reason we’re all waiting for Stilinski?” he heard Erica ask in her
typical ‘I think I’m so badass’ tone. Derek growled at her and she rolled her
eyes but still submitted. The entire pack had already been briefed about what
they knew and they had been waiting for twenty minutes for Stiles to arrive so
they could discuss a plan of action. Apparently Erica was getting restless and
Derek scanned the room to see if anyone else shared her feelings.
Scott had been the first to show up, aside from Erica, Boyd, and Isaac who had
gotten there a few minutes after the meeting was called. He looked like he
didn’t mind waiting for Stiles, but then again he was used to it. He and Isaac
were just chatting off to the side about God knows what. Lydia and Danny were
there, to Derek’s distaste, still not used to the two new humans invading his
pack. They had come with a very reluctant and very snarky Jackson who was also
chatting away with both of them, none of them seeming to care about the wait
either. The only other person who seemed to share Erica’s views was Peter, who
had turned to look at his nephew.
“Although it pains me to say it, I agree with Erica. Why are we waiting for
him?” he asked, his voice smooth and cold. “Because I said so.” Derek growled
through his teeth. Erica and Peter eyed him, probably expecting more of an
explanation, but they soon dropped it when they realized he wasn’t going to
give them one. They waited for a few more minutes when all of the wolves’ ears
twitched at the sound of a car pulling up and they all stopped chatting and
looked at the door expectantly. After a moment Stiles came trudging through the
door, almost tripping over the threshold as he rushed in. “Hey guys! Sorry I’m
late. What did I miss?!”
Derek’s nose was instantly assaulted by the familiar smell of chocolate and he
had to force himself to keep up his Alpha image and not just tackle Stiles and
cuddle him until the sun sank below the horizon. Instead he chose to stay in
his comfort zone. “You’re late.” He said, curtly, adding a glare for good
measure. Stiles sauntered over to stand next to Scott, Derek’s eyes following
his every move, and they exchanged a nod as a greeting. He felt a little sad
that Stiles didn’t come to stand next to him but he tried to push it out of his
head. “Yeah, well, I’m not really a morning person.” Derek just huffed and
turned to face to group en large.
“Now that Stiles has finally graced us with his presence, we can discuss a plan
of action.” Derek started.
“I still don’t see why we’re here. We don’t even know if this Jacob guy is
dangerous. You two barely even met him!” Lydia said, stating the obvious.
“That’s why we need to find out more about him, to see if he is dangerous.”
Derek replied. Scott’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion.
“I agree, though.” He said, “Why should we even care?” Derek could feel a swell
of rage bubble up inside him at the comment. Why did they think it was just
some menial matter? He had explained the smell of power on him, and the smell
of death. That was never a good combination.
“Because, you buffoon, the last thing we need is to let a potential enemy catch
us off guard.” Peter chimed in.
“That’s all good, but aren’t you forgetting something?” Jackson asked the
group. They all turned and looked at him in question, making him roll his eyes
and huff. “He and Stilinski actually had nerdy things in common. There’s no way
he could be a threat.” The group sighed at Jackson and ignored him, going back
to the matter at hand.
“Aside from Jackson being a complete idiot, he’s right about one thing, Stiles
was the one to meet him and they actually had something in common. It’s obvious
he should just befriend him and then get info that way. Like a man on the
inside.” Danny added. Derek’s heart flipped at the thought of putting Stiles in
potential danger and he was about to protest but Scott jumped on it before he
could say anything. “Yeah, but is that safe? I don’t want Stiles to be in any
danger. It’s hard enough to protect him when he’s not intentionally running
into danger.” Scott was only half joking and Derek saw Stiles’ face sink a
little but he didn’t say anything.
He remembered what he had said to him yesterday and how it had hurt him. He had
to dig his claws into the palm of his hand just to prevent himself from clawing
Scott’s throat out after his comment. “I can take care of myself.” Stiles said.
A snort from Jackson was met by the entire group snickering. “I can!”
“No offense, but you’re the most fragile out of all of us here. If this guy is
dangerous, I don’t think you’d stand a chance.” Boyd said. It wasn’t meant to
be hurtful, just truthful, but it made Stiles’ face sink again and his eyes
dropped to the floor. Derek couldn’t hold back a full roar with his eyes
flashing red and teeth extended. The betas in the room cowered in fear, while
the humans jumped, a little startled. “If he says he can take care of himself,
then he can!” he yelled out into the room. Silence hung in the air while the
group exchanged glances. They hadn’t expected Derek to defend Stiles and even
the boy himself looked a little confused. Derek just glared at all of them
until Danny finally had the courage to speak again, if not a little timidly.
“S-so we agree then? Stiles should talk to him?”
The group didn’t answer but they all nodded. Derek was slightly caught off
guard. “Wait… No, that’s not what I-” he began to say, but was cut off by
Lydia.
“Great. Well now that we got that out of the way, I have an appointment at the
salon.” She tapped Jackson on the arm and the two of them turned and walked out
of the room with Danny.
“We should probably go too, we’re gonna play some lacrosse.” Scott said
gesturing to Isaac and Boyd.
“Wait I thought we were going to hang out today!” Stiles said in a desperate
tone. Scott looked a little confused.
“We were?” Stiles nodded. “Oh…I’m sorry, man, but I made plans. I’ll see you on
Monday.” They started to walk out of the room followed by Erica who let out and
annoyed growl but sped off to keep up with Boyd. Stiles had a completely
shocked look on his face as he watched them leave. “And I,” Peter said, already
heading out the door, “don’t want to be here either.” Derek couldn’t believe
what had just happened and he stood there, stunned, before he realized that he
was alone with Stiles and he gulped. Dear God, please help him with his self-
control.
He had hoped that the glare he was giving Stiles would make the teen turn and
leave like his friends but he actually started to walk towards Derek. Derek’s
fingers started to twitch as the smell of chocolate was pouring off of Stiles
and into his nose at the close proximity, only standing about three and a half
feet from the boy. He gulped again as he spoke.
“Listen, Derek,” his tone was soft and low and it drove Derek wild just hearing
it, “I wanted to apologize…for yesterday.” He had to say he was a little
surprised, he hadn’t expected those words from Stiles. He continued, “I was a
jerk and I overacted…Although I still know I can handle myself!... I just… I’m
sorry.” He finished by looking at the ground and Derek felt like he was going
to explode if he didn’t wrap Stiles up in his arms right at that moment, but he
couldn’t… Could he?
“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He settled for saying, “I shouldn’t
have insulted you like that… I’m sorry too.” Stiles hesitantly looked him in
the eyes again and when he saw that the werewolf was sincere he smiled, making
Derek’s heart skip a beat. He unconsciously took a step toward Stiles making
the other boy take a step back, although he didn’t seem to notice what he was
doing either.
“That’s good! I felt like such a jerk, and after you treated me to brunch too.”
Stiles said with a goofy laugh. Derek took another step forward and Stiles
another step back. Every time the teen spoke, billows of his chocolate scent
would float towards Derek, wearing down his control over his wolf who was
screaming at him to scoop the teen up and carry him to the bedroom. “Listen
Stiles,” Derek forced out, his voice gritty as he struggled to keep from
growling with want, “I want you to be careful. I don’t trust that kid.”
“But we barely even met him, like Lydia said, neither of us really knows what
to expect. He could be the nicest guy ever!” Stile replied. More of the
chocolate filled the air and Derek stepped forward while Stiles scooted back,
continuing their involuntary dance. Derek was losing it and he had to close his
eyes and take a steadying breath. That was a mistake, though, as all he smelled
was Stiles. He took another step forward and Stiles took one back but this time
he hit the wall. He looked a little startled as he realized that he had just
been backed into a corner with no escape route by the werewolf. Derek just
inched forward, so close now that their chests were almost touching, and he
leaned his head into Stiles’ neck before he spoke.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” He said slowly in a low, breathy
voice. He could hear the teen’s heart beating in his chest. It was fast and he
smirked knowing that he was the one causing Stiles’ blood pressure to rise. He
slowly and lightly dragged his nose up Stiles’ neck to the underside of his
jaw, breathing in his intoxicating scent. His wolf was going mad, telling him
to take Stiles right there and then, against the wall. He tried so hard to
ignore it but honestly, he didn’t know if he could. He felt the teen’s hands
against his chest, trying to push him away, but he didn’t care. He grabbed
Stiles’ arms firmly and held him against the wall as he pushed their bodies
together, enjoying the whimper that Stiles made at the contact.
The teen was squirming against him, still trying to push him off, and Derek had
to clench his jaw to keep from nibbling down his neck. “Um…D-Derek?...” he
heard Stiles say, his voice cracking. He was unrelenting in his efforts to get
away and Derek was almost shaking in his attempts to keep himself from getting
too turned on. He was failing. He moved his nose to nuzzle behind Stiles’ ear.
“Yes?” He breathed out with want. “Can-” he heard Stiles swallow nervously,
“can I go now?...” Derek was pulled out of his lust at that comment. He had
forgotten that, even with Stiles’ constant attempts of escaping, the other boy
might not want the same things Derek did. He could smell the arousal on him,
but maybe it wasn’t intentional. His heart dropped as he unwillingly had to
face reality again, even with the chocolate still swirling in the air.
He slowly released Stiles’ arms but didn’t move away, keeping their bodies
together. He didn’t want to look Stiles in the face as he was afraid at what he
might see. “Yes.” He said quietly. Stiles stood there awkwardly expecting him
to move, but he didn’t. Instead the teen shimmied to the side and Derek inhaled
a quick sharp breath at the feel of Stiles’ body rubbing against his before he
was free and the sensation was gone. He could feel the boy stand there for just
a moment before hearing his quick steps and the sound of an engine starting and
a car zooming away. Derek had taken things too far, hadn’t he?
Shit…
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Stiles sped down the road, halfway in reality and halfway in his head. What the
hell had just happened?! Derek had practically just molested him against a
wall! The worst part about it was that Stiles had actually enjoyed it a little.
What was wrong with him?! He heard a honk as he nearly clipped a passing car
and he jumped. Maybe he should take the less busy way home. He veered off from
the main roads and took the long way home instead. The traffic was
significantly less already.
Stiles had enjoyed it! A little more than he should have…right? It was Derek
Hale for God’s sake! The broody sourwolf that loved to cause Stiles physical
harm and to drive him crazy! Stiles thought Derek was entering a whole new ball
park in ways to make him go nuts. He took a second to giggle at the word ‘nuts’
before he snapped back into his thoughts. He was so confused. If he had enjoyed
the contact did that mean?... Oh, God… did he actually like Derek?! No! No way!
That’s not possible! He knew that he was always a little bi-curious…ok maybe
full on gay, but Derek Hale?! Again, not possible! He thought about it for a
moment. Maybe it was possible.
Derek had protected him from the biker at Burt’s, and he had saved Stiles so
many times before. The time when he had saved him from Peter, he had saved him
from Isaac, from the Kanima! Stiles couldn’t wrap his head around it though.
What if he actually liked Derek?... Something flashed in front of him and he
squinted. It was too late to slow down before he saw there was a man in the
road. Stiles’ eyes widened as he slammed on his breaks, but he couldn’t avoid
the man, even after swerving, and he hit him. Instead of making a thud and
rolling against the car, the man exploded into a blue mist that phased through
the windshield, through Stiles, and out the back of his car. His car lurched up
as he ran over the curb before coming to a shaky halt.
He flew out of his car to see if he was mistaken, if the man hadn’t in fact
become blue mist and disappeared and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on
end when he saw no one was in the road. What the hell was that?! “Hey, are you
ok?!” he heard someone say from behind him. Stiles turned to see who said it
and his face paled as he saw that it was none other than Jacob. He forced
himself to answer, his heart speeding up a little. He had to admit, with Derek
not trusting him, Stiles was a little afraid of Jacob. But he had to stick to
the plan anyway. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s Jacob, right?” Stiles asked choosing to
not mention his possible hallucination. He saw the boy grin.
“Yeah! You’re Stiles, right? We met at Simply Super.” He said.
“Yeah. Hey, listen, I’m sorry about my friend yesterday. He’s a
little…strange.” Stiles explained, “He doesn’t really trust new people very
easily.”
“That’s ok, he didn’t offend me. I had to go because I was late for…something.”
Jacob said. Stiles already got the feeling that he was hiding something but he
couldn’t show it to Jacob. He chose to smile instead. “So, you said you were
new? Where are you going to school?”
“I was going to go to Midtown, but that place looks like it sucks, so I’m
starting at Beacon Hills High tomorrow.” Perfect!
“That’s where I go!” Stiles said excitedly. He had intended to pretend to be
excited but for some reason he actually was. “You should find me tomorrow. I’ll
show you around and introduce you to my friends.”
“I’d like that.” Jacob said with a smile. Stiles couldn’t help a huge grin from
appearing on his face. He started to walk back to his jeep after giving Jacob a
nod but he turned around again. “Do you need a ride? I can drive you if you
want. Where do you live?” Jacob looked horrified at his offer which made Stiles
frown.
“No!... Err, umm… That’s ok, I’ll walk.” Stiles thought it was strange and
definitely something to mention to Derek but waved at him anyway. He got back
in his jeep and backed off the curb before driving away back towards his house,
watching Jacob drift away in his rear-view mirror. When he pulled up to his
house he immediately stormed upstairs and into his room, taking out his cell
phone. He was about to dial Derek’s number when he felt something… a presence.
He knew something was behind him and he hoped it was Derek or Scott, hell, he’d
even take Erica. But the static that charged the air let Stiles know, almost
for sure, that it wasn’t.
He slowly turned around to see an old man, completely blue and semi-transparent
with blue vapor pouring off his body, standing in his room. Stiles’ heart
started beating quickly and his breath was shaky. The man looked angry and
Stiles was frozen for a moment. They stood there, looking at each other before
Stiles slowly tried to dial Derek anyway. A terrifying shriek rang through the
room. The man turned his eyebrows down in rage and he bared his teeth. His face
started melting, slowly, like molasses, and Stiles jumped as his door slammed
behind him and he tripped and fell to the ground as he tried to back away.
“Derek!” He yelled and squeezed his eyes shut while the creature made its way
for him, not even realizing what he was saying or who he was calling to. He
heard the lights explode and felt a gust of wind pick up in his room. He opened
his eyes when he was picked up by his throat to come face-to-face with the
creature. It raised him up, not even using its hands, although it felt like
someone had him by the throat, and shrieked again. Stiles watched as the wind
tore his room apart, items getting thrown around like they weighed nothing at
all. Even though it was morning his room was dark like it was night.
He struggled to breath and thrashed around, desperately trying to get away. He
felt streaks of burning pain run along his arms, chest, and legs and he
realized that wounds were opening like slash marks, ever so slowly. The pain
was incredible. His eyes widened as he heard the creature speak in a shrill,
raspy voice. It sounded like a demon and Stiles shook with fear. “Vos mos
mori!” it said and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut in pain as the grip tightened
around his throat and the slashes sank deeper. Then, just as soon as the pain
had come, it stopped and Stiles dropped to the floor, the little breath left in
his lungs escaping unexpectedly.
As lay on the floor of the now destroyed room and sunlight once again poured in
from the window he gasped for air, blood running from his gashes. He saw his
cell phone not far from him and he weakly tried to crawl to it, falling a few
times. He dialed the first person he thought could help him, the first person
who would help him. The person he needed to help him. It rang only twice before
the line picked up. “Hello?” Derek said with hesitance in his voice. Stiles
tried to speak but the only thing that came out was a strained breath and some
coughs. “Stiles? Stiles, are you ok?!” Derek asked frantically. Stiles tried
again, this time mustering up everything he had to form three words.
“I…need…help…” he rasped out. Saying just that tired him out and he started
gasping for air again. “I’ll be right there, Stiles! I’m coming!” With that
Derek hung up the phone and Stiles was left bleeding on the floor in silence,
gasping for breath.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Derek had sped his way into down, not giving a damn for the law of the road. He
sure as hell hoped Stiles was his house because he didn’t even ask if he was
somewhere else. When he made it to his house and saw Stiles lying on the floor
bleeding amidst the wreck of his room he felt his world shatter. He would have
thought Stiles was dead if he hadn’t heard a heartbeat. “Stiles!” he exclaimed
flying toward the teen and gently pulling him into his lap. A scent hit his
nose, a scent even more powerful than Stiles’ and they were in Stiles’ room! It
smelled of death and power, the same that he smelled from Jacob, although there
was a distinct lack of mountain flowers. Sticky blood stained Derek’s hands and
his eyes widened as he saw the gashes on Stiles’ body, five lines like claw
marks that ran down his arms, legs and chest, cutting through his clothes as
well as his skin. There was a strange blue mist emanating from the wounds and
Derek didn’t know what it was.
Derek didn’t know what to do and his heart was thudding in his chest so hard it
actually hurt. Relief poured into him, even if it was only a little, at hearing
the sound of Stiles’ voice. It was strained, but he seemed to manage. “There’s
a…first aid kit in… the bathroom…I need to… get bandages.” He said. Derek shook
his head. “No! I need to take you to a hospital!” He felt Stiles weakly squeeze
his bicep in protest. “No!” he coughed out, “Just get the kit…please.” Derek
knew he should take him to a hospital, but he also knew the teen was right. It
might be difficult to not only explain how he got the gashes, but also what the
energy pouring out of the wounds was.
Instead he gently scooped Stiles up into his arms and lightly laid him on his
bed after brushing off some debris. “I’ll be right back.” He told him but
Stiles took his hand and squeezed it hard. “NO! I don’t…want to be…alone…” he
wheezed. Derek looked worried but scooped him up again anyway to carry him to
the bathroom. “I think I…can walk…”
“No.” was all Derek said. He set him down on the toilet and froze when he heard
the teen gasp but Stiles waved him off. He looked through the cabinets until he
finally found the kit and opened it. He knelt in front of Stiles and started to
rip off his shirt and pants. “Hey! Those could have been fixed!” Stiles
protested, apparently finding it easier to talk again. “They were ripped up
anyway, Stiles, just forget it.” He replied, taking out the bandages and
alcohol. He sat there cleaning out Stile’s wounds, stopping to rub his shoulder
affectionately when Stiles hissed from the sting, and wrapped them up. The
silence wasn’t bad but the tension in the air was heavy.
He guided a wobbly Stiles back to his room after he insisted on walking and
helped him sit on the bed, taking a seat beside him. He wrapped an arm around
Stiles and was pleased when the teen leant into him, resting his head against
his shoulder. “What happened Stiles?” he asked. He felt him tense up and he ran
his thumb over his arm. “I was driving home after we…after…” He saw Stiles
blush and felt a rush of regret and affection clash inside his heart. Stiles
continued “…well, after the pack meeting. I was driving and I saw a man in the
road and tried to avoid him but I couldn’t. I hit him but I guess it was just a
hallucination. When I got out to check I ran into Jacob.” A low growl erupted
from Derek’s chest and he unconscious pulled Stiles tighter against him. “I
wanted to call you to tell you about something suspicious he said but when I
got home I…I…”
“What?” Derek said, his voice just a soft breath of concern. “There was a man
in my room. He looked like a…like a ghost and the air felt charged. I was going
to call for help but he pinned me against the wall and this crazy-ass wind was
blowing through my room! His face was…” Stiles stopped and Derek could see that
he had started to cry, hot tears running down his face and soaking into Derek’s
shirt. “It looked terrifying, like it was melting and he had long, pointed
teeth. He was choking me and… and was cutting through my skin… He spoke in a
voice that sounded demonic! And then just like that he was gone, just suddenly
gone!”
The tears were pouring now and Stiles had begun to shake against him. It must
have been a really traumatizing experience for him. Derek was curious, though.
“What did he say?” he asked. Stiles looked like he was searching through his
thoughts before speaking again. “Vos…Vos something mori…” he thought again.
“Vos mos mori. What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know.” Derek said, taking out his cell phone and let his thumbs click
over the keypad, sending a text.
“What are you doing?” Stiles asked.
“Texting Lydia. I’ll bet she could translate it.” He said. He sent the text and
waited a few minutes, still cradling Stiles in his arms before his phone
buzzed. When he read it his heart dropped.
--This looks like Latin. It means “You will die.” Why do you need to know
that?--
Derek didn’t even bother replying and just let out a helpless huff. Great! It
looks like some malicious spirit thing was out to kill Stiles. “What did it
say?” The teen asked, looking up at him.
“Nothing.” Derek lied, obviously not expecting Stiles to believe him.
“Derek! What did she say?” Stiles pushed. Derek regrettably handed him his
phone and Stiles shot up when he read it, wincing in pain as he irritated his
wounds. “Oh my God… Oh my God! What the hell, man?!” he said, starting to freak
out. “That thing is going to kill me! It’s going to kill me! How did it even
find me?! How did it get in my house?!” Stiles’ heart beat sped up and his
breath was becoming erratic. Derek recognized it as a panic attack. “Stiles,
calm down!” he tried to get through to him but the boy was hysterical.
“Oh my God! Can I even get away from it?! It’s going to kill me!” Derek reached
out and firmly but gently took Stiles face in his hands and forced him to look
at him. “Stiles! Calm down!” he said in a hard but caring tone. After he made
eye contact with the teen he could hear his heartbeat start to even out as he
calmed down. Derek wiped the tears running down his face with his thumb and
pulled Stiles into hug, being careful not to hurt him. “I promise I won’t let
it kill you. That thing will never kill you as long as I breath!” Derek was
aware of how corny that sounded but he didn’t care, and he meant it. He would
die before letting that thing take Stiles’ life! Stiles just sobbed into
Derek’s shoulder and let his feelings pour out of him. Derek wanted nothing
more than to fix everything for Stiles and a part of him was actually enjoying
that he was being allowed to comfort Stiles. His Stiles. He made a vow to
himself just then, that even if the teen didn’t want him, he would never stop
protecting him, even until death.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Derek stayed with Stiles for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to be alone
and Derek didn’t mind at all. They, or rather Derek, had cleaned up Stiles’
room until it looked as good as new, even replacing the light bulbs. Stiles
just sat there chatting away about everything and nothing and tossing him big,
goofy grins when he told him he missed a spot. They had moved downstairs after
that to watch TV and Derek had made some dinner. Nothing special, just some
grilled cheese which he slightly burned. Stiles ate it happily though.
The only thing that Derek didn’t like was that, after he was feeling a little
better, Stiles wouldn’t touch him. He would move away when Derek got close and
it was annoying the shit out him! Sitting on the couch watching TV next to him,
six inches felt like six miles. He wanted to pull the teen against him and
snuggle into his chocolate warmth like he did at night, but he had to respect
that the teen might not want that. Even though it was killing him slowly…
During the time, Derek had called the pack and relayed the information about
what had happened. They had all asked if Stiles was ok, even Jackson, and they
all breathed a sigh of relief when they heard he was fine. He told them to
start researching what the creature might have been and if they found anything
to call him.
It was getting late and Stiles had fallen asleep to old reruns of a
Supernatural marathon. Derek sat there and watched him sleep, totally in denial
that he had a smile on his face and thought that Stiles looked cute, but he did
anyway. After a while he heard a car approaching from down the road and he
recognized it to be the Sheriff’s. He gently took Stiles in his arms for yet
another time that night, not that he minded, and carried him up stairs into his
room. By the time he laid him in bed the Sheriff was already coming up the
stairs and Derek sunk back to hide in the shadows.
The door opened and he saw the Sheriff peek his head in. When he saw Stiles was
sleeping he whispered a ‘good night’ and quietly shut the door. Derek waited
for almost an hour for him to go to bed and when he finally did let out a quiet
sigh and got up. He wasn’t planning on leaving but Stiles must have thought so
and he froze when he heard the teen whisper. “Derek?” Derek turned and walked
up to him. Stiles propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at him with
big, honey-brown eyes. “Please don’t leave. I know it’s not the most manly
thing to say but I’m… I’m scared…” He saw Stiles blush even through the
darkness in the room and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Ok, I won’t.” he said. He walked over and plopped down in the desk chair and
prepared himself for and uncomfortable night. Stiles watched him curiously for
a second before whispering again. “What are you doing?” Derek just shrugged.
“What do you mean? You asked me to stay so I am.”
Stiles just huffed and peeled back the covers, patting the bed next to him.
Derek was surprised that he wanted him there but didn’t hesitate as he got up
and climbed in with his clothes on and lay on his back. Stiles covered them up
with the blanket and then silence hit the room. It wasn’t how he was used to
spending the night with Stiles but this time he knew Derek was there so what
could he do? After about a minute Derek’s eyes opened when Stiles slid over and
snuggled into him, resting his head on his chest. Derek’s heart fluttered and
he happily pulled the teen closer, nearly having him rest on top of his body.
“Are we going to talk about what happened today?... After the pack meeting?…”
Derek asked. He wasn’t one for talking but for some reason he felt like that
was something they should discuss.
“No.” Stiles said sleepily.
“Why?”
Stiles sighed. “We’ll talk about it when it’s not sleepy-time…” Derek dropped
it but only for a second.
“I’m sorry I pushed myself on you like that…” he said, having to fight through
regret and sorrow to just say those words. He was met with a slight snore.
“Stiles?” He could already tell by his heartbeat that he had fallen asleep and
he sighed, content to just nuzzle the teen’s neck and inhale the smell of
chocolate.
Stiles was right, it was sleepy-time.
Chapter End Notes
     If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
***** Zombies *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles’ eyes slowly fluttered open and were met with the early morning light.
He hated waking up so early for school, but the oppressive school board would
never waver on what time school should start so he just gritted his teeth and
got over it. He closed his eyes again, trying to snuggle into the warmth behind
him before he absolutely had to go to school. He didn’t want- Wait… Warmth?
Stiles froze as the events of the day before came rushing into his mind. He
hadn’t even noticed the body behind him or the strong arm that was holding him
against said body until he felt the tickle of breath against his neck.
Stiles’ heart started to beat quickly. He remembered that he had invited Derek
into his bed last night. He was too scared to sleep alone. He was still scared
now that he thought about it and the fact that Derek was still there, holding
him, made him fell so much better. But there was still a problem. Derek Hale
was snuggling with him… in bed! Not that it was a bad thing but it was all so
knew to Stiles and it happened so fast. One day it was heads bashing against
steering wheels, then brunch at Burt’s, and now snuggles?! Stiles needed some
space, feeling choked and trapped at that moment. He needed time to process
what had happened, to process what was happening.
He very slowly leaned forward, away from Derek, and attempted to move his arm
away but was having some trouble. The muscular appendage was much heavier than
he thought and was hard to move but he eventually managed to make it budge and
started to slowly move it off his hip. He was holding his breath but it came
flooding out when the arm simply came alive and wrapped itself around Stiles
again and firmly pulled him close. He jumped as he heard the voice in his ear,
the breath tickling his skin. “Good morning.” Derek said in a sleepy voice.
Stiles didn’t know what to do. ‘Good morning’s and snuggles?! What happened to
hard glares and physical pain? It was so beyond what Stiles knew Derek to be
and it kind of scared him. Who was the man in his bed? “Ummm…Good morning?”
Stiles answered not really sure about what to say. Derek let out a sleepy sigh
and rubbed his legs against Stiles’ in the tangle under the covers. His nose
nuzzled its way behind his ear and he could hear Derek take in a breath before
speaking. “Your heart is racing. What’s the matter?”
Stiles wasn’t stupid. He knew that the werewolf knew exactly why his heart was
racing! He squirmed against Derek and frowned when he made a noise at the
movement. He had to admit that it was surprising even him. Yesterday he had
wanted exactly what they were doing now. Why then, today, did it bother him so
much? “You know why.” Stiles answered, a little more bite in his voice than he
intended. He squirmed again and was partly pleased and partly saddened when
Derek released him. Stiles scooted away and sat up to face Derek. The man sat
up as well, wearing a confused look.
“I…I thought…” he said, searching for words to match his sad, hurt puppy tone.
It made Stiles’ heart sink and made him furious at the same time.
“You thought what, Derek? I’m not some pillow you can cuddle!” Stiles had no
idea why he said that! Of course he was Derek’s pillow! For the love of God,
cuddle away!
“But yesterday you… yesterday we-” Stiles cut him off, his involuntary rage
spitting out words he didn’t want.
“Yesterday you forced yourself one me at the Hale house!” he snapped. Derek’s
look of confusion turned to a hurt expression that made Stiles want to shoot
himself but then, just as quickly, turned into anger.
“But after that! You had no problem with it when I came over to help you,
Stiles!” Stiles knew he was right and his brain was screaming for him to
apologize and jump into Derek’s arms but his mouth kept spouting the hurtful
words and he couldn’t stop it.
“You took advantage of me yesterday! I was hurt and scared and you just used
me!”
“You were the one who called me, Stiles! You were the one who invited me into
your bed!” Their voices were loud and Stiles’ stomach dropped as he heard the
bed squeak in his dad’s room and footsteps walking on the floor. When he looked
back at Derek he couldn’t say he was surprised when he was up and walking
toward his window. Stiles let out a disapproving sound and more words spilled
from him. “No, wait!” he pleaded. Derek looked back at him with a confused face
laced with anger. He was already halfway out the window and Stiles felt like he
might as well be jumping off the edge of the world.
Stiles stared into his storm-grey eyes for what seemed like an eternity before
the werewolf sighed. Stiles had hoped he would climb back through the window,
back into his bed, so that they could cuddle again, but he didn’t. He just
silently slipped through the window and was gone in an instant. Stiles sprang
to his feet and ran to the window, peering out into the morning. He couldn’t
see Derek anywhere. He jumped when he heard a voice behind him. “Son? What are
you doing? Who were talking to?” Stiles didn’t want to answer the questions and
he really just wanted to jump on his bed and start crying, but he couldn’t do
that in front of his father. So instead, he decided to play dumb.
“What?”
“I heard yelling. Someone else was in your room?” It was more of a statement
than a question. Stiles pinched his eyebrows together.
“Ummm…nooooo? It’s just me dad. Should I be concerned right now?” he said,
trying to sound like his sarcastic self. He forced out a laugh and walked past
his father, who was giving him very suspicious looks, and went to the bathroom
and shut the door. When he was alone he sank to the ground and cradled his head
in his arms. Stupid brain! What the hell?! He honestly had no idea where the
hostility had come from. He had been a little freaked out, sure, but it’s not
like he didn’t want Derek! So why then had he said those things?! Why didn’t he
tell him how he really felt, how being in his arms made him feel safe and that
he was glad he was there!
He sighed in annoyance and let his head hit the door. He had fucked up big
time… Stiles got to his feet again and trudged over to the shower, turning on
the water. He stripped out of his clothes and was surprised to find the
bandages on his skin. He had completely forgotten about them. He hadn’t
forgotten about the gashes and how he got them, but he had forgotten that they
were there, just for that moment. When the air was filled with steam from the
shower Stiles started to carefully unravel his bandages, preparing to be met
with gruesome flesh wounds. But as the bandages slid off his body he was
startled to see absolutely nothing at all. No gashes, no scars, not even the
bruise from the biker stained his skin.
He couldn’t believe it! He ran his fingers over his body. Nothing at all, like
it was as good as new! He could honestly say he was happy, but the thought of
what needed to come after made his heart heavy.
He needed to tell Derek.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Stiles was on auto-pilot the whole way to school. His mind was swimming with
thoughts and he wished he could just shut it off! He walked through the hallway
like a zombie and came to his locker. He took out a book, not even knowing if
it was the one he needed and he didn’t even care. He stood there, staring into
his locker, until he heard a voice call his name. When he saw Scott walking
over to him he had to hold back a sneer. He loved his friend, even though he
drove him nuts sometimes, but he really didn’t want to deal with him right
then. Ha!…nuts…
“Stiles!” Scott said again, standing next to him. He looked worried. “Are you
ok, man?!” Stiles just nodded and didn’t even move when Scott took his arm and
inspected it. “I thought Derek said you had gashes?” He let out a huff.
“Yeah, well I woke up this morning and they were gone.” He said with no emotion
in his voice. Scott gave him a weird look. “How is that even possible?” Stiles
didn’t know the answer and he just shrugged. He heard his name again, this time
seeing Lydia, Danny, and Jackson walking toward him. He rolled his eyes as they
did the exact same thing Scott had done and searched his arms. They didn’t seem
as surprised as Scott, though, and Stiles looked at them curiously.
“I knew it!” Lydia exclaimed with a smile. She and Danny exchanged knowing
glances and Stiles was so curious now he could feel the words bubbling up.
“What? What did you know?” he asked, forgetting about his troubles for the time
being. Lydia put on the face she gets when she spouts smart talk and gestured
at Stiles.
“I was researching and think I know what attacked you. It was a ghost, but not
just any kind.” She rummaged through her book bag before she took out some
papers and handed them to Stiles. He looked them over as she continued.
“Apparently, ‘ghosts’ is a massively generic term. When we say ghost usually we
think of the spooky ones that float around but don’t really hurt anyone. I
think the one that attacked you was a phantasm.”
“What’s the difference?” Stiles asked.
“A phantasm has the ability to be coherent in our world, interact with objects,
and even seek and harm targets. The thing is, though, that since they aren’t
powerful enough, the wounds they inflict disappear if they didn’t kill the
victim.” Stiles cringed as he remembered how afraid he’d been and how much the
gashes had hurt.
“What happens when it is powerful enough?” he asked.
“It becomes a specter. A specter can permanently harm someone and has control
of elements, like the wind that tore through your room.”
“But his wounds healed, doesn’t that make it a phantasm?” Scott asked. He
obviously was as in the dark as Stiles. Lydia just nodded.
“The phantasm must be evolving. I was looking through some old bestiaries and
found that ghosts can move up the ladder by gaining certain amounts energy.”
She explained.
“How do they get the energy?” he asked.
“In rare cases it happens naturally, like when a spirit haunts a place of power
and absorbs the energy. But in most cases…” She paused.
“What?”
“In most cases they get the energy from ritualistic aid.” Scott still looked
lost but Stiles’ brain instantly made the connection.
“Jacob…” he said. He heard Lydia make a mall gasp and the werewolves growl
before hearing a familiar voice behind him.
“Are you guys talking about me?” Jacob said playfully. Well his timing
was…eerie. Stiles spun around, not trusting the boy enough to have his back
turned on him. It took everything in his power to force a smile and pretend
that he didn’t want to run away from him, but he managed…barely.
“Jacob! Hey, it’s good to see you!” He slapped the boy on the shoulder and
moved to stand next to him, gesturing toward the group. “These are my friends.”
He pointed to each member as he spouted their names while they gave little
greetings to him. Stiles ended with the tallest, his brain assuming it made
perfect sense to go in order of height and not just left to right. “And this is
Danny!” Danny actually went out of his way to shake Jacobs hand and Stiles
watched as he saw a scarlet blush stain the pale teens face.
Jacob looked up at Danny and their hands lingered for a while. “N-nice to meet
you.” Jacob said nervously. Stiles had to clear his throat to snap the boys
back to attention. “Sooo, Jacob, what’s your schedule look like?” Jacob smiled
and pulled out his schedule, handing it to Stiles. He looked it over and passed
it to the others. “I guess the only class we have together is chemistry…” he
said a little bit relieved but also annoyed. Befriending him was going to be a
lot harder if they couldn’t spend much time together. “Hey, it looks like you
have the same schedule as me.” Danny said, sounding a little too excited.
“Really?” Jacob asked.
“Yeah. I can walk you to class and show you the ropes…If you want.” Stiles saw
a blush reappear on Jacobs face. Curious…
“I’d like that.” He said. Danny just smiled and gestured down the hallway. He
and Jacob walked off, not even saying goodbye to the group and Stiles gaped.
What had just happened? He looked at the others who shared his ‘What the fuck?’
expression. He was about to say something but the bell rang and apparently
class was more important as everyone just started to walk to their respective
rooms. Stiles pouted and stomped off to his classroom.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
God classes were boring! Stiles was so glad when the bell rang for lunch.
Halfway done! He had quickly scooted down the lunch-line and brought his tray
over to the group’s regular table and sat down next to everyone with a quick
‘hey’. He noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Danny?” he asked. Erica rolled
her eyes and pointed to the lunch-line. He and Jacob were up getting food,
smiling and laughing. Stiles was a little shocked at the instant liking Jacob
took to Danny… or was it the other way around. Or was it mutual? Stiles gasped
and the others looked at him strangely. He remembered that humans and
werewolves couldn’t read minds. How useless.
“Jacob’s sure taken a liking to Danny.” He pointed out. The table agreed and
continued snacking on their food. Well so much for a conversation starter… He
watched as the two made their way over to the table, still chatting, and sat
down. “Hey, guys.” Jacob said like he had known them most of his life. Stiles
heard Erica scoff and flash him a look. The table was quiet and Jacob looked
uncomfortable before Danny broke the silence. “So, Jacob was thinking about
joining the lacrosse team. He was wondering if you guys could put in a good
word for him.” The lacrosse players exchanged glances and Jacob’s faced fell in
sadness.
Danny glared at the group. How very Derek-like of him. Reluctantly the lacrosse
players nodded their heads. Erica was the next one to peak. “Who are you?” she
said bluntly to Jacob. Stiles nearly choked on a bite of apple and he shot a
disbelieving look at Erica, joined by the rest of the group.
“What?” Jacob looked like he was caught off guard.
“Tell us about yourself. I have no intentions of ‘befriending’ someone I don’t
know just because the group does.” Stiles had to hand it to her, she knew how
to get her point across. Jacob nervously stabbed at his peaches and said
nothing. Stiles new Erica would fuck things up royally if she was allowed to
continue and he stepped in when she opened her mouth to say something.
Something cold and snarky no doubt. “How about,” Stiles said, “we ask you
questions and if you don’t want to answer you can pass. I think it would be
good to get to know you a little better too.” He finished with a smile, trying
to be friendly.
Jacob looked and Danny, a little unsure, but nodded his head when Danny gave
him a ‘what the hell?’ shrug. Lydia immediately stole the first question. “You
said you moved here, right? Where’s are you from?”
“I’m from Vacaville.” He said, short and to the point. Boyd chimed in for the
next question. “What’s your favorite food?”
“I love sushi. I don’t eat meat but I could never give up seafood. It’s my
favorite.” That question seemed to pull a smile out of Jacob. Stiles noted that
Danny smiled too.
“Do you have any pets?” Isaac asked.
“No. I used to have a dog but when it died I-” he stopped himself and his smile
faded, “Well…it died.” Suspicious. Stiles nibbled on his apple, watching Jacob
curiously.
“Do you play sports?” Jackson asked. Stiles was surprised he even cared enough
to think of a question.
“I keep myself active and fit but I’ve never been involved in an actual sport,
no.”
“Have you ever had someone you love die?” Erica asked. Stiles closed his eyes
in disbelief. Damn it, Erica! He tossed her a tight lipped glare but she just
shrugged. Jacob looked a little startled at the question and his faced took on
an air of anger, ever so slightly.
“Pass.” He said pointedly. There was an awkward silence for a moment but it
passed as Scott asked another question.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Jacob giggled at that.
“No. I’m… I’m actually gay…” Danny perked up at hearing that and it was his
turn to ask a question. “Are you single?” he said with a smirk. Jacob blushed
furiously.
“Yes.” Danny spoke again. “Interesting.” Well, Stiles knows how Danny feels
about Jacob at least. Everyone had asked their questions and they were looking
at him expectantly. Stiles didn’t really know what to ask so he stuck to what
he valued most. “What’s your family like?” It was an innocent question, but
something in it made Jacob scowl. He curled his fingers into fists and clenched
his jaw. Stiles felt a wave of power wash through him, making him nauseous for
a moment. He was sure by the reactions the others had that they felt it too.
Jacob spoke in almost a growl. “Pass.”
The group looked at each other, no one sure of what to do. Danny didn’t seem to
have felt anything, though, because he was giving the pack a confused look. The
tension was thick and Stiles jumped when he heard the bell ring. Everyone
watched as Jacob rose to his feet and nodded at them. He looked at Danny and he
got up as well and walked Jacob out of the cafeteria. One thing was for sure.
That was damned suspicious.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
It had been a long day. Tip-toeing around Jacob had turned out to be quite the
chore. Stiles was lucky that he didn’t have to deal with him as much as he
thought because Danny had taken a liking to him. He kept following Jacob around
like a lost puppy, holding doors open, laughing with him in the hallway, and at
one point Stiles had even seen him carrying Jacob’s books! He didn’t like it.
Stiles didn’t really fully trust Jacob before but after today he knew he didn’t
trust him. That boy was hiding something and he was almost one hundred percent
sure that he was behind the phantasm attack.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at just thinking about the
phantasm and he looked around quickly to see if anything was there. He was home
alone, a fact he didn’t really enjoy. He cocooned himself in a couple of
blankets and sat on the couch watching TV. He was too afraid to go upstairs. He
knew he was going to have to eventually but he postponed it for as long as
possible. He had asked Scott to stay the night over at his house but apparently
he had invited Isaac to stay the night already. Fucking traitor!
He and Isaac had been spending a lot of time together and Stiles felt like
Scott was pulling away. Actually, he knew that Scott was pulling away. There
was nothing he could do about it, though, and the teen just let out a sigh. He
sat there, watching TV for a few more hours before he knew it was time; time to
do what he had been dreading. It was time to go upstairs. He cautiously
unwrapped himself from the blankets, feeling exposed to the outside world, and
made his way to the base of the stairs. His heart started to beat faster as he
walked up and through the hallway.
He made quick work of brushing his teeth and getting ready for the night,
casting frightful glances over his shoulder at small noises the house made.
When he finished he slowly crept toward his door and peered into his room.
Everything appeared to be safe and there was no charge in the air. He timidly
slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He didn’t even look around as he
made a b-line for his bed after stripping to his underwear and practically dove
under the covers. He peeked his eyes out over the top and scanned the dark
room.
His heart was beating hard in his chest. That phantasm had appeared behind him
out of nowhere before. It could appear at any time that night. He was so
scared! He lay in his bed, terrified for a full half an hour, flinching at the
sounds of the night, before he couldn’t take it anymore. He quickly snatched
his phone from the bedside table and instinctively dialed Derek’s number. He
didn’t expect him to answer after what he had said to him earlier that morning
and he was very surprised when Derek picked up on the third ring. “What?” he
said in a hard tone. Stiles knew he shouldn’t be asking it of him, but he was
selfish in that moment.
“Can you-…Will you-…I’m scared.” He said after searching for the right words.
There was silence on the phone and he thought maybe he should be more specific.
“Can you come over?” He was met with silence again. It made him sad to think
that Derek didn’t want to talk to him but he didn’t have time to pout as he
almost had a heart attack. He flew out of bed and cowered in a corner as his
window opened and a dark figure stepped through. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut
and screamed. “Derek!” he cried out. Ok, he really needed to stop doing that,
it was almost embarrassing. “Relax, it’s me!” he heard Derek’s familiar voice
say.
He opened his eyes to see Derek standing there, pocketing his phone, and he
didn’t even hesitate as his sprang up and threw himself at him. He wrapped his
arms around his muscled body and squeezed. After a moment he felt Derek’s arms
gently wrap around him and immediately felt safe. Stiles blushed a hot red when
he realized he was in his underwear but he couldn’t seem to care. They stood
like that after minutes passed before Stiles finally found his voice again.
“Were you outside my window the whole time?” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s chest.
He felt the vibrations rippled through his body as Derek spoke in a low voice.
“I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He said. Stiles squeezed him tighter.
“Derek…I’m sorry about what I said this morning. I was just…scared and
confused.” He explained. He was going to continue but apparently that was all
the explanation Derek needed and he hushed Stiles. “It’s ok, Stiles.” Derek
shifted, moving them both to the bed and they slipped under the covers. Stiles
snuggled onto Derek’s chest and a comfortable silence filled the room. Derek
rubbed his arm lazily and Stiles felt that same rumble in his chest as he spoke
again. “Where are your gashes?” He didn’t sound surprised that they were gone
and Stiles guessed someone had already told him what had happened but he played
along anyway.
“Lydia said that the thing that attacked me was a phantasm. The wounds it
inflicts aren’t permanent.” Derek hummed in approval and the silence fell
again. Stiles could feel the irresistible erg of sleep taking over his body but
he forced himself to stay awake to ask one last question. “Derek?” he was met
with another hum. “Did you really mean what you said? When you told me you
wouldn’t let that thing kill me as long as you breathed?” Stiles blushed into
the silence that hung in the air. He thought he might have scared Derek with
his question but was relieved when he heard him speak.
“Yes.” he said. Stiles smiled and nuzzled into Derek’s chest. He felt so safe
lying next to Derek and he let himself fall into sleep next to the broody
sourwolf, one last thought passing his mind before he succumbed.
He wished he had told Derek to strip before they got into bed.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob walked up the walkway of the house, passing by the dead flowers lining
the cement. He opened the door and stepped in, met by the screaming already and
he sighed. “You’re not my real parent, you can’t control me!” a teenaged girl’s
screamed at a middle aged woman in the living room. “I’m your foster parent,
your legal guardian, and it is in fact my job to control you!” Jacob rolled his
eyes, ignoring the fight. He slipped past the women after dropping his backpack
on the ground, making it to the sliding glass door on the other side of the
living room but he flinched when her smoke ridden voice yelled his name.
“Jacob! Where are you going?” she demanded. He turned only slightly and forced
out a semi-civil reply.
“Out.” He said. She huffed but rolled her eyes. “Be back at seven for dinner,
I’m not going to save it this time!” He just nodded and strode through the door
and slid it shut behind him. He instantly made his way to a large pot holding a
long-dead tomato plant and snatched up an old tennis ball hidden inside. He
broke out into a run, making his way to the forest on the edge of the property.
When he felt safely concealed in the trees he slowed to a stop. “Phasma!” he
yelled out into the trees. He waited a moment and smiled when he felt the
familiar charge in the air. He turned to see an old man, blue vapor pouring
from his semi-transparent body.
“Jacob.” It said in a hollow almost echoing voice.
“Hi, grandpa!” Jacob said excitedly. He started walking into the forest again
and the phantasm followed him. “How was your day?” the spirit said making small
talk with the teen.
“It was great. I made some new friends, they’re Stiles’ friends, the boy I told
you about, remember?” The phantasm grunted. “Yes…Stiles…” he replied. Jacob
smiled and started combing the ground with his foot. A wretched scent was
wafting around the area and he knew he was close but couldn’t quite remember
where he had hidden her. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more?” his grandpa
asked. Jacob looked at him, a blush creeping up on his cheeks.
“Well, I met this boy. His name’s Danny.” He said. The phantasm chuckled. “A
boy? My, my but you do work fast don’t you, Jacob?” He just laughed as he bent
done and pulled at some fallen branches, looking for the right one. “He’s
really great. I think he might like me, but I don’t know for sure.”
“Do you like him?” the man asked.
“Yeah I really do. He’s nice to me and I feel like he’s the only one besides
Stiles who actually wants to let me into their lives.” He finally found the
branch he was looking for and when he removed it, it revealed the rotting
corpse of a dog, a golden retriever. Whole chunks of the dog’s flesh were
missing, showing bone. He could see maggots squirming around inside her body
but it didn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. “There you are,
Sandy!” he said excitedly and sat on the ground in front of the dog.
His grandpa watched him as he crossed his legs and took in a breath, inhaling
the smell of death. “Spiri-” he started to say, trying to summon another spirit
to aid him but his grandpa cut him off. “No!” he exclaimed. “Do it without a
spirit.” Jacob looked at him with a cautious face. “Grandpa, that kind of
necromancy is impure! You know what it could lead to!” he argued. The phantasm
just shook his head.
“You said once you wanted to be as powerful as I was. If that’s still true you
have to learn to do it without the aid of spirits. Depending on them will only
cap your potential. I believe in you, you won’t lose control.”
Jacob still looked unsure but a nod from his grandfather urged him on. He
turned to the dog’s corpse and took a pocket knife out from his pocket. He
flipped it open and ran a cut along his left palm without hesitation. He could
already feel the power inside him becoming tainted as he let the blood drip
onto the dog’s corpse. “Control your thoughts. Command yourself to not be
corrupted and you won’t!” he heard his grandpa say. He closed his eyes and
looked inside himself and willed the darkness snaking itself around his soul
away. He felt it recoil in in response and his grandpa spoke again.
“Do it now!” Jacob’s eyes snapped open. They were completely white, not any
color present anymore and black veins crept into life on his face, dancing as
the power flowed from him. “Vita!” he commanded and a filthy black smoke poured
from his mouth and swam into the dog’s nose. When the smoke disappeared inside
of the dog, its corpse started to shake with wild spasms and after a moment it
sprang to its feet. “I did it!” Jacob said excitedly, his features returning to
normal. The dog’s tail, or rather what was left of it, wagged at seeing her
master. She shook like a wet dog would and maggots flew off of her like water
drops.
Jacob got to his feet and waved the ball around. “Here Sandy!” he said and
tossed the ball into the woods. The zombie-dog ran after in happily and brought
it back to him. “So, have you figured out a way to capture the Alpha yet?” his
grandpa asked. Jacob looked at him and sighed.
“Not yet, but I’m sure that Stiles’ friends have a connection. I could sense
that some of his friends were werewolves. I think they might be the Alpha’s
pack.”
“Good. It’s only a matter of time then. When we capture it we’ll have access to
all the power we need for the ritual.”
Jacob kept tossing the ball for the dog to fetch happily. “Speaking of which,
are we doing the power siphon again tonight?” He saw the phantasm shake his
head.
“No. I have…plans.” Jacob just nodded and tossed the ball again, a smile on his
face. That was when he was at his happiest. He missed his grandpa so much, but
after searching the spirit realm and finding his spirit he made it a point to
help him re-enter the corporeal world. All they needed was a good source of
power to fuel the jump. His grandpa had found one, one that they could access
because they knew for a fact that Beacon Hills had it.
The soul of an Alpha werewolf.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Derek’s eyes snapped open. He had woken up once before that night, to hide when
the Sheriff got home and checked up on Stiles, but this time it was different.
The air was charged and he smelled the power. The same power he smelled after
Stiles was attacked. He stiffened as he saw it, the phantasm, lurking in a
corner of the room, staring directly at him. He didn’t make a move, not wanting
to make one until it was absolutely necessary so he didn’t startle the
chocolate-smelling teen sleeping in his arms. His eyes flashed red in a silent
threat and the old man just cocked his head to the side, studying him. Derek
didn’t know what it was doing but whatever it was it wasn’t good.
In an instant he watched the man break into a blue mist and disappear. The
smell faded from the room, already being replaced by the chocolate coming off
of Stiles. Derek still lay in bed, stiff.
What the hell was that?
Chapter End Notes
     If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
***** Desire *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles sat on the tall chair in Burt’s and watched as Derek attack his steak.
He had a happy look in his eyes and was making tiny, gleeful noises, like a dog
with a chew-toy. “Dude, use a knife!... Or at least a fork!” Derek stopped and
looked up at him with the entire slab of meat dangling from his mouth but soon
went back to his attempts at ripping off a bite. Stiles rolled his eyes and
took a bite of his hamburger which he had insisted he get that time.
It had been eleven days since he’d been attacked by the phantasm, he’d been
counting, and things had changed a lot for him in the short time. Danny was
almost always hanging with Jacob and he rarely saw them without one another. He
wondered what they did all the time. Probably made out. Scott had been getting
really distant. His friendship with Isaac had sapped all of their quality time
away and Stiles was getting annoyed. They were as close as he and Scott used to
be and he couldn’t help but wonder how they had started to drift apart in the
first place. Maybe Scott was just going through a bromance phase, or maybe it
was some sort of werewolf thing, he didn’t know.
What he did know was that Derek had been spending a lot of time with him. He
didn’t mind, in fact he enjoyed it, but sometimes it still confused him. He
looked up when Derek made a frustrated noise, still not able to tear the meat.
He saw his eyes shift to a bright, glowing red and he sank his werewolf fangs
into the steak, this time easily ripping off a bite, and he nommed it happily.
Stiles couldn’t help but smile. Derek looked so cute when he was just
being…Derek. Not the Alpha Derek with the glares and the hurting things, but
the mellow and fun Derek that Stiles had gotten to see for the past eleven
days. He never thought that he would ever be calling Derek ‘fun’, or ‘cute’ for
that matter, but he had to admit that he was.
Stiles was getting used to waking up with him too. He liked watching him sleep
and would trace his fingers over his triskelion tattoo when he released him
from his protective hold to roll onto his stomach. Derek had insisted on
staying over every time Stiles was home alone, which he liked, but he got the
feeling that something was wrong, like Derek wasn’t telling him something.
Regardless, things were good, and he was happy. He took another bite of his
burger and finally noticed that Derek was staring at him. He was already
halfway done with his food and had blood all over his face. The savage. “What?”
Stiles asked with a smile.
“Why are you so quiet?” Derek asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I don’t know, I’m just thinking.”
“‘Bout what?”
“You.” Derek swallowed and Stiles awkwardly fumbled over his words trying to
make himself not seem like a pathetic teen with a crush. “Ah… and Scott and
Isaac! About Danny and Jacob and just- everyone, you know?! ‘N things!…” He was
such an idiot.
“You looked sad. Is everything all right?”
“Oh yeah, sure! I just haven’t seen my friends outside of school in over a
week!” He said sarcastically and raised his eyebrows. Derek tilted his head to
one side and looked at him curiously.
“Are they avoiding you?”
“What? No! At least I don’t think so…” Stiles hadn’t even thought about that.
What if they were avoiding him? “I don’t know, man. I think they just have
other, better things to be doing rather than hanging with the spaz of the
group.”
“I can’t think of anything better.” Derek said with a smirk. Stiles’ cheeks
flared red but he grinned despite it.
“Why, Mr. Hale, you flatter me.” He actually managed to pull a laugh out of
Derek and he made an ‘o’ face in shock. Derek didn’t seem to care that he was
utterly stunned by his use of real life emotions. “I’ll be right back.” he
said, getting up from the table. Stiles watched as he disappeared into the
bathrooms behind the pool tables. The bikers playing pool moved away from him
as he walked by and Stiles smiled remembering his first time at Burt’s. He
jumped as he heard a voice next to him.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen ‘im laugh. What’d you do?” Pamela asked
curiously as she refilled their glasses. Stiles just looked at her with a blank
face. “What did I do?” he asked.
“Hun, I’ve known that boy for a long time, and he hardly ever laughs, even when
he was a kid.” Pamela explained. “What’d you do?” Stiles didn’t know what to
say.
“I…I didn’t do anything. Wait, did you say you knew him when he was a kid?”
Stiles’ curiosity was dripping off his words and Pamela chortled at him.
“Sure thing, hun, I knew all the Hales. They were our first and best customers
back when me ‘n Burt started this place. O’ course that was when both of us
were barely out o’ college ‘n had a lot less grey in our hair.” She cackled at
her own comment. Stiles wanted to ask her so many questions but she spoke
before he could even open his mouth.
“Well, whatever you did, hun, keep it up. It’s good to see ‘im smile.” She
winked at him and sashayed away into the kitchen. Stiles stared at the kitchen
door as he ate more of his delicious burger. Seriously, he’d have to meet this
Burt guy because damn his food was good. His eyes flicked up to Derek as he
returned and sat back in his seat. Stiles gave him a disbelieving look.
“Are you kidding me? You were just in the bathroom and didn’t even wash your
face?!” He said, looking at the blood smeared over Derek’s face. He just
shrugged and Stiles rolled eyes. Before he even thought about what he was doing
Stiles took his napkin and reached over and wiped the blood off of Derek’s
face. Derek didn’t move away, though, so he figured he wasn’t going to kill
him. In fact, he made a low, almost inaudible growl of approval. Stiles thought
maybe he was used to the contact from the nights of snuggles.
They chatted as they finished eating their food about nothing at all. They
hadn’t talked about the phantasm much, or Jacob for that matter. Jacob didn’t
seem all that bad to Stiles but for some reason Derek insisted he was. And,
then again, Stiles was almost sure he was connected to the phantasm somehow. It
was just strange to think that he could be anything evil, he was a really nice
guy once you got to know him.
Derek paid the bill, as usual, and they walked out and got into his Camaro and
sped off back towards his house. When they got there Stiles sighed as they went
in. He didn’t want to be at home. It was great having Derek there but the
werewolf loved his rut and it was boring Stiles. Every day for the past eleven
days it had been the same thing: Wake up, eat breakfast or have Derek growl at
him, get ready for the day, watch TV, go to Burt’s. That was his life. No…No,
he wouldn’t let himself become a boring person! Something had to be different
today, even if it was just a small change.
He searched his desires for something that he really wanted, something that
would make him happy…besides cuddles. He spun around to face Derek, who was
already sitting on the couch flipping through channels. “Let’s get some ice
cream!” Derek turned his head slightly but not all the way to look at him.
“What?”
“Sugary, delicious, frozen cow-juice, let’s go get some!” Stiles jumped over
the back of the couch and landed upside down next to Derek, looking up at him
with a smile.
“I just drove you back home and now you want to go out again?”
“Yes!”
“No. The last thing you need is anything sugary.”
“Come on, don’t be such a sourwolf!” Stiles groaned. Derek took a pillow and
playfully smacked him in the face. “Dude, what the hell?!” Stiles saw Derek
smirk and he knew it, it was time for the big guns. He flipped right side up
again moved in close to Derek. He looked at him, making his eyes big and pouty.
No one can resist the puppy eyes. They stared at each other for almost a full
minute before Derek caved.
“Fine!” He growled, throwing his hands up in defeat. Stiles sprang off the
couch and made a fist pump into the air. He was jumping around like a little
kid as they walked out to his car. He was so excited he could barely sit still.
Ice cream!
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob watched Danny typing away on his computer from his perch on Danny’s bed.
Danny was sitting on the floor doing homework and Jacob like watching him work.
He got so serious when he worked and it made him feel happy that he was allowed
to sit in his room with him and just be around him. They didn’t even have to
talk, it was just comfortable all the time. Jacob had never experienced that
before and it made his heart dance every time he thought about it.
His smile faded, though, as he thought about his heart…his soul. His grandpa
had been getting more adamant that he use necromancy without the aid of
spirits, but that kind of necromancy was messy and almost always led to
corruption. He could feel his soul already being tainted. His grandfather had
insisted he was fine and had showed him how to control the taint from latching
on to his soul.
Jacob didn’t think it was working, though. It had been manageable when all he
was doing was reanimating Sandy or using simple spells, but his grandpa had
made him use it once for the power siphoning ritual. Blood magic can almost
never be used on living humans without corrupting the user. He had seen people
corrupted into darkness and it was terrible. People he’d known all his life,
who would never harm anyone, went mad for power and his family had to put them
down. Jacob’s family had been spell casters, every one of them, and he was
furiously taught to never let that happen to him, and if it happened to any one
of them, to put them down too.
It was happening to him now, though. After the last ritual he felt it, the
spots staining his soul. He had pushed back the taint but somehow it had
stayed, hiding from him and now he could not be rid of it. All he could hope
was to keep it from spreading, but that was taking a lot of his energy already
and he didn’t know how long he could keep it up. He was pulled from his
thoughts when he heard Danny’s voice. “So what do you want to do now?” He had
shut his computer and was looking up at him with a smirk.
Jacob returned his expression. “I can think of something.” He said. He watched
as Danny put his computer off to the side and he jumped off the bed to sit next
to him. He leaned his head in and Danny crashed his mouth against his, kissing
him with a desire the Jacob wanted, that he craved; the desire to be loved. He
felt himself being pushed down and Danny climbed on top of him, holding himself
up on his left elbow and cupping Jacob’s face with his right hand. Jacob let
out a pathetic moan of approval when Danny ground his hips against him. All
right, his tainted soul could wait a few minutes…
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Erica ran through the thick forest, dodging branches and jumping over logs. She
had felt something strange, something other than Jacob. It was something she
knew all too well. It was the feeling of being hunted. She had first felt
someone stalking her a few weeks ago, even before Jacob, but she never told
Derek because she wasn’t sure if she had just been imagining things. She
definitely wasn’t imagining things now, though. Someone was following her
through the forest, just like they’d been following her all that time, and she
was going to find out who they were!
She kept running full speed through the forest, the area she had scouted so
many times before. She knew the place like she knew she was a sexy goddess, and
it was time to put her plan into effect. Erica already saw the drop and smirked
as she came up to it. She leaped down off the ledge but instead of continuing
to run she ducked back into a small nook. It was partially covered and someone
would never know it was there unless they, well, already knew it was there.
Once she was sufficiently concealed, she waited. It took almost a full two
minutes before she heard them coming.
From the sound of their footsteps there were three of them. They were heavy and
ungraceful so she suspected all men. She waited again until the three men came
into her view. One of them tripped and stumbled as he dropped down. She would
have laughed at him if she hadn’t been so terrified at seeing the crossbow he
was holding. Her mind instantly snapped to Allison. It was safe to say that
Erica didn’t like arrows very much…or Allison, that bitch. She jumped in
surprise as she heard one of them speak. “Where did the bitch go?”
“I don’t know, she’s crafty that one, I’ll give ‘er that.” Another said.
“She’s leaving a trail, should we follow it?” the one that tripped said.
“Nah, we’ve been at it for hours. Besides, Malcolm just said to tail her for a
while. Thinks she’s getting suspicious. Seems a bit paranoid if you ask me.”
“Getting suspicious? Why are we tailing her then?”
“It’s almost time, that’s why. You know how much Malcolm loves the mind games.
Psych ‘em out then take ‘em down.” One of them snorted.
“Yeah. Well let’s go then, I’m done with this shit-hole of a forest.”
She watched as the three men walked away and waited until she couldn’t hear
their footsteps anymore until she let out a breath of relief. She whipped out
her cell phone and dialed Derek’s number. It was time for her to mention it to
him like she should have when she had first noticed. It rang a few times and
she waited. God, Derek, pick up the fucking phone!
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Derek watched as Stiles licked at his vanilla ice cream and walked with a happy
bounce in his step. He had convinced Derek that they should go for a walk
because it was such a beautiful day and although he was going to say no, the
excited look on Stiles’ face made it worth saying yes. They trudged down a path
leading into the forested area of a park. It was a nice walk, one that he had
taken before. It was infamous for being dangerous, though, because of the
mountain lions that roamed the hills, but Stiles didn’t seem to be afraid.
Derek tried to keep him close, though, because he knew that there were more
things in the forests of Beacon Hills than just mountain lions.
“Hey, Derek?” Stiles asked. Derek gave him a questioning look as he slurped up
some of his melting chocolate ice cream. “How long have you known Pamela?”
Derek was surprised. Why did he want to know that?
“Why do you want to know?” He said, voicing his thoughts.
“Well she said she knew you when you were a kid, that she knew all the Hales.”
“She told you that?” Derek honestly hadn’t expected Pamela to tell Stiles. He
trusted her to not mention it but for some reason she did, even though he asked
her not to. Why?
“Yeah, she did. Is that true?” Derek didn’t know what to say. He liked Stiles a
lot, but even he knew he had a hard time talking about his family. Derek
thought it over for a while and Stiles must have gotten impatient.
“…I’m sorry, Derek, I was just curi-” Derek cut him off.
“No! It’s just… Yeah, she knew my family. Her and my mother were good friends.
They loved sharing gossip and Burt and my father liked sharing cooking tips.”
Derek cooed at the memory. “Sometimes they would get into huge fights about
whose steak was better.” He tried not to, tried with all his might, but he
couldn’t help a sad smile from sneaking onto his face at the memory. Stiles was
silent for a while before he spoke again.
“Did…do Pamela and Burt know about…about…” Stiles wildly moved his hand up and
down, gesturing at Derek.
“That my family was werewolves?” Stiles nodded. Derek thought over his answer
again. He trusted Stiles. He didn’t know why he did, but he did. It was
something that he tried to deny from the beginning, from when he first met him,
but he couldn’t deny it any longer.
“Yeah, they know.” He said. Stiles shot him a smile and Derek had to bite his
lip to control himself. He was so beautiful. Every time he saw the teen he was
hit hard, like someone ran into him with a train, right in the heart. It was
physically painful to look at him and try not to ravage him.
“That’s cool! I thought I was the only human who knew about the Hale
werewolves. Well, aside from Allison, but she doesn't really count, being a
hunter and all...” Stiles said. His face contorted in confusion when Derek
laughed.
“Pamela and Burt aren’t human.” He smiled at Stiles for being so clueless.
“They’re not? Then…what are they?”
“Just because Pamela tells my secrets doesn’t mean I can tell hers. Take it up
with them.” Derek said, giving him a smirk. Stiles pouted but apparently got
over it because he just shrugged and licked at his ice cream again. Derek
clenched his jaw and swallowed hard at seeing his tongue flick over the
dessert. Stiles watched him with curiosity, oblivious to the massive struggle
going on between Derek and his wolf. God, he wanted the teen so bad.
Stiles must have thought that Derek was just uncomfortable about the topic
because his ‘I’m a social idiot’ personality kicked in. “Hey, Derek?” he asked.
“Wha-” Derek didn’t even finish before Stiles reached up and smeared some of
his ice cream on his nose. He blinked a few times in shock. It was cold and
Derek was so stunned he almost tripped over his own feet. He was not amused and
he let Stiles know by growling at him. He must have gotten the picture because
he paled and his face sunk in fear. Derek took a few slow steps forward, his
eyes never leaving Stiles as he stepped back, stalking the teen like a wolf
would a rabbit.
“D-Derek? I’m sorry. What are you-” Stiles bumbled and when Derek raised his
ice cream cone up realization hit Stiles’ face. “No! No, no, no, no!” He
started yelling as he turned tail and started to run away. Foolish human, he
couldn’t outrun an Alpha werewolf. Derek was on him in a matter of moments. He
was impressed that Stiles managed to make it to the edge of the path, trying to
make an escape into the forest, but Derek would have caught him regardless. He
wrapped his left arm around him, keeping him from running away, and flipped him
around. Stiles made a small oompf noise as Derek pinned him against a tree.
He looked a little afraid but mostly he saw happiness in his eyes. He had a big
smile despite the carnal look on Derek’s face. “Derek, don’t you dare!” he
challenged. Derek smirked and brought the ice cream up and smeared it over
Stiles’ cheek. “Oh my God! Stop it! Derek!” Stiles pleaded between giggles and
laughs as Derek smeared more of it down his neck. Stiles finally managed to
knock the cone out of Derek’s hand and it fell to the ground with a splat,
hitting the forest floor. Derek didn’t care though.
Stiles looked up into his eyes, still fighting off giggles, and Derek clenched
his jaw again. His eyes were hypnotizing. The honey-brown orbs searched his own
eyes and then flicked down to his nose. Stiles brought his hand up, maneuvering
it around Derek’s body and up to his face and wiped the ice cream off with his
finger. He let his hand rest against Derek’s chest and they stared at each
other again. Derek pressed closer, so close that could feel Stiles heartbeat
against his chest. He was still breathing hard from being chased and captured
and each breath sent out a puff of intoxicating chocolate.
Derek’s wolf was screaming at him to take what he wanted, to take what he
needed, to take Stiles! He tried to fight it but the teen made him so weak,
made his self-control crumble into a pile of hopeless rubble. Derek leaned in
and licked the ice cream off of Stile’s cheek. The teen’s breath hitched and he
heard his heart do backflips in his chest. He reveled in the taste of sweet
chocolate, not from the ice cream but from the taste of Stiles’ skin
underneath. He finished licking up what was on Stiles’ cheek and continued down
his neck, making the boy moan a delicious noise.
Derek was sad when all the ice cream was gone and he had to force himself not
to keep licking his skin. He ground his hips into Stiles’ and their breath
became heavy at the sensation. Derek kept grinding, bringing his head up to
Stiles’. Their lips were only an inch away and Derek could feel little
chocolate puffs of breath against his lips as Stiles made tiny noises at the
feel of Derek moving against him. Derek needed to feel more of a connection. He
wanted to feel himself come together with him, one way or another. He leaned
in, preparing to take Stiles’ lips in his own, but all he was met with was
Stile’s jaw.
The teen had turned his head away. Derek stopped in confusion. He took Stiles’
chin in his hand and turned his face towards him and tried again. Stiles turned
his head away again. “What’s wrong?” he asked between heavy, lust-filled
breaths. Stiles didn’t answer. He just kept his head turned and stared into the
forest. Derek was confused but he couldn’t think as his wolf was biting at his
mind. He ground his hips again and when Stiles moaned he latched his lips on
his neck, kissing everywhere he could.
The hand against his chest fisted his shirt as he thrust his hips again. Just
as soon, though, it was a flat palm pushing against him. “Derek, stop…” he
heard Stiles say, so low that he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he
wasn’t a werewolf. Derek had heard but he didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop.
Stile’s other hand joined in at his attempts to push Derek off of him. “Derek,
stop.” He said again, this time clear and firm. Derek still didn’t listen. Why
did he want to stop? It wasn’t fair!
Stiles was getting frantic and started thrashing, or at least trying to,
against Derek, trying to get away. The noises he was making weren’t out of
pleasure anymore and instead were out of panic. “Derek!” he yelled. It took
everything he had, every ounce of willpower he could muster, but he stopped. He
didn’t move away, though, just stopped. Stiles continued to struggle for a
little while, but when he realized Derek wasn’t going to move away he settled
down anyway. “What the hell, Derek?!” Stiles yelled.
Derek didn’t say anything. He just stared at the ground, not able to look
Stiles in the eye just yet. Stiles tried again. “What’s wrong with you?!” Derek
felt rage flood over him in an instant. How dare he ask that question! Didn’t
he know how much Derek needed him?! How could he not want the same thing? How
could he let himself fall asleep in Derek’s arms every night and not want him?
“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?!” he retorted, grabbing Stiles’
shoulders and shaking him slightly. Derek clenched his teeth together. The rage
left him and all that was left was confusion and loneliness. He spoke again,
through clenched teeth, in a soft but intense growl. “Why are you doing this to
me?” He searched Stiles’ eyes and all he saw was confusion.
“I’m not doing anything to you, Derek.” He said.
“That’s the point! Can’t you see how much I need you?” Stiles winced and Derek
realized he was squeezing his arms. He let him go and let his hands rest at his
side, looking away from Stiles again. It was quiet for what seemed like ages
before he heard the breathy response. “You…need me? What does that mean?” His
voice sounded like he was actually oblivious.
“I need you, Stiles. I’ve needed you for so long…” He didn’t know what else to
say. How could he express the raw emotion he felt for the teen? He felt like
such a fool. How could he ever expect Stiles to share his feelings? “I don’t
know what it means…All I know is that I want to be with you.” Derek closed his
eyes as silence filled the air again. Stiles was so still next to him and he
was barely breathing but his heart was beating so fast Derek was afraid he
might fall over dead.
“Say something!” Derek demanded, finding Stiles’ eyes again. Stiles’ face was
blank and unreadable and Derek couldn’t take it. He needed to get away from
him. He turned around and started to walk away but he stopped at Stiles’ voice.
“Wait!” Derek felt a flutter of hope deep inside his chest as Stiles came
around in front of him. He looked up at Derek and moved in closer.
“Derek…I’m sorry. It’s just…It’s only been a little over a week for me. It’s
all so new and it’s overwhelming. I’m just…not ready yet.”
“A little over a week? You had no feelings before that?” Derek asked.
“Well I…I did, but I didn’t know what they were. It’s only recently that I’ve
had to think about how I feel…How I really feel.”
“What are you saying then?” Derek moved closer again and rested his hands on
Stiles’ hips.
“I’m saying…I’m saying I’m not ready yet, to go further. Snuggling is alright,
but kissing and…other things…I just can’t yet.”
“You seemed to enjoy it.” Derek raised a good point. Stiles just rolled his
eyes.
“That’s not the point, Derek. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to either. Just give
me some time.”
“I can’t wait, Stiles. It’s killing me to not be with you.” He squeezed Stiles’
hips, trying to show him he was serious.
“If you ever want to be with me, Derek, you’re going to have to wait.” Derek
looked into his eyes. He didn’t know if he could. It would be torture to wait.
He knew, though, that Stiles was serious. If he wanted him he was going to have
to tough through it until Stiles was ready. Derek slowly nodded and Stiles
smiled. He pulled Derek into a hug and Derek held him tight. What kind of magic
did Stiles possess that made him want him so badly. Why did he need him? He
didn’t know. All he knew was that he was going to have him, no matter how long
it took. He was going to be with him.
He felt Stiles jump in surprise as his phone rang in his pocket. Derek sighed
and continued hugging Stiles. It rang two more times before Stiles spoke up.
“Are you going to get that?”
“No.” It rang again.
“What if it’s important?” Derek rolled his eyes. He reluctantly let go of
Stiles and dug into his pocket, retreating the phone. Erica’s name flashed on
the caller ID and he answered it. “I swear to God, Erica, this better be
importa-” He paused as Erica frantically jabbered in his ear explaining
everything in a quick almost undistinguishable rush. Derek understood, though,
or at least the pats that mattered.
“Hunters?” He asked. Erica confirmed he had heard right and he ground his
teeth. “Go to the house, I’ll get the others. Make sure you’re not followed.”
He hung up the phone without saying goodbye and looked at Stiles. “What’s going
on?” he asked.
“Hunters. Come on, we need to go, now.”
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob giggled as Danny threw a pickle slice at him. They were making sandwiches
for lunch after a hot and heavy make-out session upstairs. “Hey, watch it!” He
said playfully. Danny stuck him tongue out at him and finished the sandwiches,
giving one to Jacob. Jacob was so happy. He was never allowed to be with anyone
like this before when his were…well, before. Fate was funny in that way.
Something good always come out of something bad and Danny was his good. He
didn’t know if was completely finished with the bad part yet…
“So, what do you like to do for fun, Danny?” Jacob asked. Danny raised an
eyebrow.
“I already told you what I do for fun. I play lacrosse, go shopping, and play
video games. You know, stuff like that.” Jacob waved his hand.
“You don’t fool me, that was just first date bullshit. What is it you really
like?” Danny blushed and shrugged his shoulders.
“I like computers. Not to sound full of myself, but I’m kind of a genius when
it comes to technology.”
“Really? I think it’s fitting. You’re a smart guy, it’s only natural that you
do smart things.”
“Smart things?” Danny mocked with a smile. It was Jacob’s turn to blush. Danny
just laughed and kissed him. He quickly stole a bite of Jacob’s sandwich and
Jacob protested. “Get outta here, you have your own!” They laughed and
continued eating.
“So, what do you do for fun? And no first date bullshit.” Jacob froze. For a
split second he debated whether he should tell Danny about his necromancy, but
the thought left just as soon as it came.
“I like to read comic books and watch TV and movies with superheroes. I like
superheroes.” He said.
“Oh yeah? Who’s your favorite superhero?” Jacob laughed at that.
“I like so many, I can’t just choose one! They all have qualities that I like.”
“Well, tell me some of the qualities you like.” Jacob thought about it for a
moment or two before answering.
“Well, I like Toph because she works with her disability and even sees things
differently because of it. I like Green Lantern because he is the embodiment of
bravery, using his willpower to tackle anything. I like Spiderman too. With
great power comes great responsibility…although I guess that was more Uncle
Ben.”
“Toph? From Avatar? She’s not a superhero.” Danny said. Jacob looked at him in
disbelief.
“Like hell she isn’t! She’s the greatest earth bender in the world!” Danny just
shrugged and Jacob rolled his eyes.
“Dude, you’re useless!” They laughed but it was cut short by Danny’s phone
ringing. He answered it and his smile faded. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob
looked at him curiously.
“What is it?” Danny didn’t answer, just asked him another question.
“Can you get home on your own?” Jacob felt shame swell up inside of him. He
hadn’t told Danny where he really lived just made up some bogus story about
liking to walk from a certain point in the city. He didn’t want Danny to see
where he really lived.
“I guess? I can walk home, yeah.”
“How far is it?”
“I’m not sure…” Danny sighed. He looked really conflicted.
“Alright…come with me.” He said gesturing toward the door and grabbing his
keys.
“Where are we going?”
“To the forest, an old house…I just…it will only take a little while, I swear,
but you’re going to have to wait in the car, ok?” Jacob just nodded. He
followed Danny out to his car and got in and they sped off to… wherever the
hell they were going.
Chapter End Notes
     If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
***** Counter-tops and Couches *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Derek pulled up to the old Hale house in his Camaro, Stiles riding shotgun next
to him. He saw the other cars already parked outside the house, apparently most
of the pack was already there. They walked inside the burnt-out structure and
into the living room. Derek took his place at the back of the room, overlooking
the pack, and he was glad when Stiles walked past Scott to stand next to him,
so close that Derek wasn’t even sure if it was within the ‘just friends’ social
norm. The hurt and questioning look on Scott’s face shouldn’t have made him as
happy as it did but he fist-pumped in his head anyway.
Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Peter were already there. They were just waiting
on Lydia, Jackson, and Danny. They stood in the room with Erica and Boyd
chatting about school to each other and the others. Derek didn’t miss Scott’s
awkward glances at him and Stiles and, as fun as it had been to see his
reaction at Stiles choosing him over Scott, it was starting to annoy him. The
pack looked to the door as Lydia and Jackson walked in, Jackson looking about
as amused as a cat thrown in a pond. Derek waited a moment for Danny to come
into the house, but when he didn’t he got a little confused.
As though Stiles had invaded his mind, he asked the question Derek was about to
ask. “Where’s Danny?” Jackson shrugged.
“Like I know, Stilinski. I don’t follow him around demanding his attention like
you do with Scott.” Derek didn’t like the way he was talking to Stiles and he
couldn’t help the low growl he made, cutting off Stiles’ witty come-back. The
growl was simple, but it had a vicious tone. Jackson swallowed hard and his
face turned to an apologetic expression. The other betas in the room backed
away a little too. Stiles looked up at him with an almost invisible smile, but
Derek understood he was grateful.
The room was filled with an awkward silence, well, awkward for everyone except
for Stiles and Derek, who seemed happy to exchange quick glances and cute
smiles. Stiles would sway a little and brush his shoulder against Derek’s
“unintentionally”, but Derek new it was just a show for the pack. Although, by
the looks of confusion, disgust, and even horror, Derek knew they weren’t
buying it, but just didn’t say anything. Stiles, however, was pleasantly
oblivious. Peter just stared at the two of them with a creepy smirk. They
waited for another minute or so before they heard Danny pull up to the house.
Derek tensed up immediately at smelling the familiar scent and the other wolves
in the house must have smelled it too, as they were on guard. He instinctively
moved to cover Stiles’ body, trying to protect him from the unknown. The teen
just looked as confused as ever, but when Danny walked through the door he
understood why. That is, if Derek’s angry scolding hadn’t been a clue. “Danny!
What the HELL?! Why did you bring him here?!” Lydia and Stiles looked around
the room before exchanging a ‘what the fuck?’ glance at each other. “Who are
you talking about, Derek?” Stiles asked, gently placing a hand on Derek’s arm.
Derek didn’t turn to face him but he answered, his rage-filled eyes focused on
Danny. “He brought Jacob here!”
Derek felt Stiles squeeze his arm in fear and distrust and that just made him
want to rip Danny apart even more. Surprisingly, it was Jackson who spoke
first. “What the fuck, Danny?! He was the one that attacked Stiles!” Stiles
looked utterly dumbstruck at his willingness to defend him but Jackson didn’t
seem to acknowledge that he had.
“No, the phantasm is what attacked Stiles and we don’t know if that had
anything to do with Jacob!”
“Like hell it didn’t! It happened right after Stiles crashed his jeep and found
Jacob!” Scott spat. Danny looked like he was getting frustrated.
“That doesn’t prove anything. He just happened to be there and wanted to see if
Stiles was alright!”
“Oh yeah, he just happened to be there right as Stiles just happened to hit the
PHANTASM with his jeep!” Erica added. She just loves picking a fight doesn’t
she? The room erupted with angry voices and flailing limbs as the pack argued
over the situation. Everyone’s voice was indistinguishable from each other and
it just became one loud cluster of noise inside the crisp of a house. Derek
didn’t say anything more, though. The only thing he cared about was protecting
Stiles and when the teen leaned up and whispered something in his ear all he
really wanted was to do what Stiles wanted to make the situation more
comfortable for him.
“Derek,” Stiles whispered, his hot breath on Derek’s skin and hint of annoyance
in his voice, “make them shut up, please.” Derek didn’t hesitate as he let out
a full roar, his eyes flashing red, and the charred wood of the house shook at
the intensity of the sound. He brushed his fingers against Stiles’ as he
realized that the roar hurt his ears but the teen recovered quickly, turning to
face the group. “Will you guys stop it?! God, you’re worse than old women at a
bingo tourney!” Stiles yelled. He continued after everyone had settled down.
“Now, Danny is right! We don’t know that Jacob was involved in the phantasm
attack.”
“Of course he was! He-” Scott began to say. Derek let out a growl and cut him
off, however, after feeling Stiles pat his arm. He agreed with Scott, but he
let Stiles say what he needed to say.
“Calm your tits! Danny, where is Jacob?” Stiles asked.
“I told him he had to wait in the car…”
“Good. He’s not in the house, guys, so just SHUT UP! We have more important
things to deal with!” Everyone looked a little ashamed and they knew Stiles was
right. Derek laughed as Stiles gave him a surprised look at the fact that he
had sufficiently shut the pack up. He cleared his throat, awkwardly, when the
others gaped at him for the show of emotion. “Stiles is right, Erica said that
some hunters were following her. If we’re being hunted again, that takes
priority over Jacob. Is that clear?” Derek said in his ‘I’m the Alpha and I
know best’ voice. The others nodded their heads, quickly. “Erica, tell us what
happened.”
“Well, I felt like something was different for a while now. I couldn’t quite
place it, though, until now. I was being chased through the forest today by
three men. They were talking about how it was almost time for something and
they mentioned someone named Malcolm…” Erica trailed off, letting her words
fall into the air and waiting for someone else to pick them up.
“Malcolm, who’s that?” Lydia asked.
“From the way they were talking I’d say it was their leader.”
“Malcolm…” Derek said, escaping for a moment into his head to think about the
name. “I don’t know who he is.” He said after finding nothing.
“Whoever he is, he’s obviously bad news.” Stiles added, squeezing Derek’s arm
again.
“Well then,” Peter said, “what do you propose we do?”
“I want everyone to travel in pairs or more. No one is to be alone at any time.
We don’t know what’s going to happen and I don’t want this Malcolm asshole or
his goons getting the drop on us.” The pack nodded in agreement. Peter got up
from his seat on the soot-covered couch and stretched, although Derek suspected
it was just for show. “Well, that covers that. I’m a big boy, though, Derek, I
can handle myself.” Peter just gave a lazy wave and sauntered out the door.
Derek thought about saying something, but, to be honest, it wouldn’t be that
bad if the hunters killed him when he was alone.
He snapped back to the matter at hand when he heard Scott’s voice. “I…I know
she’s not everyone’s favorite right now, but I think we should call Allison.”
His timid comment was met by a fury unlike no other from Erica.
“WHAT?! There is NO WAY we’re letting that BITCH anywhere near the pack again!”
She shrieked. Boyd nodded his head. “I agree, not after what she did!” Derek
was caught off guard by Scott’s comment but he had to admit it was a good idea.
When Erica saw that he was thinking and hadn’t shot the idea down in flames she
freaked out again.
“You can NOT seriously be thinking about this. She hurt the pack! What is there
to think about?!” Derek was mad, but he had made up his mind while Erica was
running her mouth. Allison and the Argents would know a lot more about Malcolm
than his pack would or could find out. Or at least he hoped they would. “Erica,
enough. It’s a good idea. Scott, I want you to get her help. Try to-”
“WHAT?! NO WAY!!!” Erica was hysterical. Derek almost jumped as he heard
Stiles’ voice. It was a strong and commanding tone, very unlike Stiles. It kind
of turned Derek on… But, then again, everything about Stiles turned Derek on.
“Erica SHUT UP!” Stiles commanded. As if Stiles saying that wasn’t shocking
enough, Derek was even more surprised when Erica obeyed, just as she would if
Derek had been the one giving the order. She wrinkled up her nose and let out
an annoyed huff as she stomped her foot like a child but didn’t even retort
with a smart-ass come-back. As the situation and the conversation died down, so
did the meeting. Everyone started to file out and as Danny turned to leave
Derek shot him a look that said ‘never fucking again!’ Danny nodded and ducked
out of the house.
As Scott and Isaac went to leave, Scott looked back with that same face at
Stiles and Derek. Derek glared at him until he left the house and it was just
Stiles and him alone. Derek wasted no time in pulling the boy into his arms.
“Am I going to have to start calling you Alpha Stiles now?” Derek joked with a
smirk on his face. “Don’t look at me, I’m just as surprised as you that they
listened to me.” Stiles looked up at him and Derek felt the urge to kiss his
perfect lips wash over him like the tide. He remembered the conversation they
had in the forest not an hour before, though.
Stiles wasn’t ready for that yet, and as much as it almost literally killed
Derek to obey, he respected Stiles’ wishes and fought the urge. The teen just
leaned his head against his chest and Derek rested his chin on top of his head.
He supposed that was alright. It was better than nothing. Nothing really would
kill him.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob could tell that Danny was nervous as they pulled up to the mysterious
house in the forest. He looked out the window at the burnt building and
wondered why anyone would go inside. “All right, I’ll just be a few minutes.”
Danny said. Jacob could hear the tension in his voice. “Wait in the car and
just…wait in the car.” Jacob nodded and Danny’s eyes lingered on him,
worriedly, for a moment before he got out and disappeared into the house.
Jacob wasn’t an idiot. He knew what was happening and what that place was. It
was a gathering place for the pack to hold meetings like they were doing just
then. It was the place the pack felt safe and the place the pack trusted to
always be a “home”. Perfect. “Phasma.” Jacob whispered into the stale air of
the car. His eyes flashed white for the briefest of moments before returning to
their normal blue. The air became charged as the phantasm appeared.
“Jacob.” His grandpa said. He had manifested in the back seat of Danny’s car
and Jacob turned around in his seat to face him.
“Grandpa, I think this is their den!” He said, excitedly. His grandpa looked
pleased.
“Perfect. Set the seals quickly before anyone notices.” Jacob nodded. He opened
the door and stepped out onto the leafy forest floor. His grandpa phased
through the side of the car and caught his arm. Jacob felt electricity skip up
his arm at the contact. It wasn’t painful, though, it just felt like and
intense shock. “Wait! The wolves will hear you! Make yourself silent and
control your scent!” Jacob couldn’t believe he had been so stupid and nodded at
his grandpa again.
“Furtim et non odor.” Jacob said, weaving the Latin spell. A spirit appeared in
a blue mist and wrapped itself around Jacob before disappearing again. Feeling
protected Jacob snuck toward the edge of the house, not making a sound at all
even though his feet pounded heavily against the ground. He froze, crouching
down behind the side of the building, at hearing a roar from inside the house.
“Don’t worry, it’s not for you. Continue, quickly!”
Jacob needed to place three seals, one on the door, one on a window, and one on
the side of the house. He decided to start with the hardest ones first. He
crept toward the door, still not making a sound. He placed his hand on it and
spoke another Latin spell. “Meum observabunt prædam.” His eyes flashed white
again and another spirit sprang up from nothingness. The ghost traced its hands
over the door and he saw the glowing seal appear, activate, and then vanish.
The first seal was set. It took him a while to find a window that would work as
most of them were utterly destroyed but he found one and set another seal.
Finally, the easy part. He quickly crept around the house to the side and spoke
the spell. “Meum observabunt prædam.” Another spirit set the last seal and
Jacob was relieved that he had finished. “Good, now get back to the car before-
” His grandpa stopped mid-sentence.
“What is it?” Jacob asked. His grandpa didn’t say anything, though, he just
vanished in a blue mist. “Grandpa? Where did-”
“Well, well, what have we got here?” Jacob jumped and spun around at hearing
the eerie voice behind him. He saw a man standing there with a smirk on his
face. Something about him seemed off. “What are you doing?” Jacob asked, not
even realizing what he was saying.
“What am I doing? I think I should be the one asking you that.” The man said.
Jacob knew what he was, a wolf, he could feel the energy on him, but for some
reason he wasn’t afraid of him. It was odd because he knew he should be afraid.
Being caught by a wolf after snooping around his territory was not good after
all…but he wasn’t afraid at all. He felt like the man was no threat, like he
was nothing. Strange.
“I…I was just…”
“I suggest you go back to the car before anyone else finds you out here. The
rest of the pack won’t be as…understanding as me.”
“You aren’t going to kill me?” That pulled a laugh out of the stranger but it
was hollow and empty. This guy was fucking creepy.
“No, no I’m not going to kill you. I’m not my nephew, you know. I find you
completely…intriguing. Jacob, wasn’t it?” Jacob just nodded his head. The pack
must have been talking about him if he knew his name.
“I see potential in you, Jacob. I see an ally. We’ll see where the future
brings us…for now. Now, scurry on back, the others are done with their
meeting.” He didn’t even wait for a response or to see if Jacob was heading
back to the car before he turned around and walked away into the forest. Jacob
sprinted back to the car and got in. It was perfect timing as he saw Danny open
the door and come to the car.
“Are you all right?” Danny asked as he got in and started the engine. Jacob was
breathing heavy and his heart was pumping hard, but he tried to play it off.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Hey listen, I’m sorry about this.” Danny said as they pulled out and started
down the road going back into town.
“That’s alright. Like you said, it was only a few minutes.” Danny smiled at him
and Jacob did his best to return it. He was mad at himself, though, mad at
getting caught. Why hadn’t the wolf turned him in… or killed him for that
matter? And why did he say he wanted to be allies? Jacob didn’t want to think
about that now, though. He just closed his eyes and leaned his head back
against the seat. The seals had worked and that at least was a small victory.
He had to try to remember to commune with them when they reached their prime to
see what happened in that house.
He was very curious as to what did happen, but he had to be patient. If he was
lucky, the seals would uncover something he could use to lure the Alpha into a
trap.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Stiles’ eyes fluttered open and the light of the morning sun trickled in. He
squeezed his eyes shut again, not fully prepared for the morning yet. Waking up
was the worst. He never was a morning person and he hated that he was already
up this early on a Saturday…again. It had been two weeks since the pack
meeting, two weeks since the prospect of the pack being hunted again had been
introduced. So far nothing had happened. Everyone had played by the rules. They
travelled in pairs and were always cautious. It seemed to be paying off. In
fact, the only trouble the pack had seen in those two weeks came from Allison.
Allison… ‘The bitch was back,’ or so Erica had said. She was still so mad, so
angry at the world for her mother’s death, for her messed up family…she was
still mad at Derek. She hadn’t actually seen Derek in person since Scott
convinced her to help a few days ago and Stiles wasn’t looking forward to when
she would. It was bound to stir up some drama. Stiles smiled at the thought of
Derek. He was still hanging around Stiles, clinging to him like he was air and
he was suffocating. He quite liked the attention.
Stiles leaned back a little, trying to snuggle into Derek’s warmth, but he was
met with nothing. That was odd. He had gotten so used to waking up that way
that it completely caught him off guard when he was robbed of the experience.
He lazily rolled over to look behind him. Derek wasn’t there. Stiles
immediately felt fear take hold of him. He was definitely up now that the
adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He sat up, hurriedly, and called out
for his…for Derek. “Derek? Derek where are you?” No one answered. He pushed the
blankets off of him, the air hitting his bare chest, and went to the stairs,
calling for him again as he went down. “Derek?!” He was relieved when he heard
him answer from the kitchen. “I’m in here, Stiles.”
Stiles shuffled into the kitchen, smelling the scent of toast as he entered,
and he let out a pathetic meep noise as he was pulled into a surprise embrace.
Derek rested his hands on Stiles’ hips and he looked down at him, chewing a
bite of toast. “Well, don’t bother getting dressed on my account.” Derek said
sarcastically with a smirk. Stiles blushed a cherry red when he realized he was
only in his boxers. Derek didn’t seem to mind, though, so why should he? The
werewolf wrinkled his nose at smelling Stiles’ breath and his blush deepened.
“Sorry, imma go brush my teeth, be back in a second.
Stiles shot Derek an ‘I can’t believe you just did that’ look when he slapped
him on the ass as he went to walk away. He just gave Stiles an ‘innocent’ look,
well, innocent except for a devious smirk, and went back to munching on his
toast. Stiles quickly brushed his teeth and pulled on some clean clothes.
Showers were so overrated. He bounced down the stairs, happily, and was pleased
to see some eggs and toast waiting for him on a plate. “Well, it’s nice to know
I have my own personal wolfy chef waiting on hand.” He said with a mouthful of
eggs after taking a seat next to Derek.
Derek flashed him a smile, sparkling white teeth flashing as he did. “Well, I
try.” Stiles had gotten used to the kind Derek. He showed himself a little more
lately and Stiles really felt like he was getting somewhere with Derek. The
whole “I need you” situation had been a little overwhelming at first, but
Stiles had to admit he was quickly getting over himself. Derek just looked
so…perfect! In all the time he spent with him, lately, he never once thought
about how lucky he was that someone like him would want, no, need someone like
himself. He wondered why Derek had randomly admitted it to him too.
When they had met Derek had hated him. To be honest, Stiles kind of hated him
too. So what was it about Stiles that made Derek need him so badly? He decided
to ask. Hell, if the werewolf hadn’t killed him already his chances of
surviving that question were looking pretty good. “Derek?” Derek just hummed as
he read the paper. Who reads the papers anymore? “What made you…” Stiles
hesitated. He still wasn’t sure if he should ask or not, but once Derek looked
up and gave him his attention he figured he had to follow through. “What made
you…pick me?” Derek looked a little stunned.
“Pick you? What do you mean?” he asked. Something told Stiles he knew exactly
what he meant but was just playing dumb.
“I mean…why do you like me?” Stiles half expected Derek to get up and leave,
although he should have guessed he wouldn’t, but he didn’t. Instead he looked
into Stiles’ eyes with an intense stare.
“I like a lot of things about you, Stiles.” He said with sincerity. Derek never
failed to surprise him.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” Yeah? Well that simply wouldn’t do.
“Like what?” Stiles did his best not to sound too eager to know, but he failed
miserably. He poked at his eggs nervously and Derek turned to face him, resting
his hands on Stiles’ thighs. Stiles hesitated to look at Derek but gave in
after only a moment. The man loved his intense stares, didn’t he?
“Well I like the way you smell for one.” Stiles rolled his eyes and Derek
flashed another toothy smile. “It’s true. It drives me crazy. You smell like
chocolate and it makes me think of the chocolate chip cookies my mom used to
bake whenever you’re around.” Derek accentuated his point by leaning in and
nuzzling the crook of Stiles’ neck, breathing in a deep breath. Stiles’ pale
skin turned pink at the proximity. He loved when Derek was close to him, when
he was touching him. It made him feel safe and wanted.
“What else?” Stiles asked.
“I like how you see the world. How you’re almost never down. I like how you
never know when to shut up, even when it drives me nuts.” Ha! Nuts… Derek’s
hands were creeping up Stiles’ arms and he shivered at the contact. Derek
smirked at him. “I like the way you feel and the way you react when I touch
you.” Derek had moved in close to Stiles and he could feel his breath against
his skin as the werewolf’s eyes flicked across his face. Stiles didn’t know
what happened, honestly. He didn’t really realize he had leaned forward until
it was too late, until his lips brushed against Derek’s.
Derek froze, his muscles locking up, and he stopped breathing. Stiles pulled
away. The kiss, if you can even call it that, was almost nothing, just a tender
graze against each other. It felt like someone threw Stiles in a furnace,
though, as his body exploded at the feeling. Derek still sat there, dumbstruck,
and Stiles thought maybe he had overstepped. Isn’t that what Derek had wanted
though? Why was he just sitting there like an idiot?! Stiles licked his lips
and swallowed hard as he noticed Derek’s eyes crept down to his lips. He leaned
forward slowly, so very slowly, and gently pressed against Stiles’ mouth. It
was another chaste kiss, just the pressure and nothing else. Stiles figured he
was waiting to see if he was allowed to continue so he snaked an arm around
Derek’s neck and pulled him closer.
Derek got out of his chair and pulled Stiles to stand with him. In that
position he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and
crushing their bodies together. Stiles couldn’t help a small hybrid of a squeak
and a moan let loose from his throat as the kiss deepened. Derek turned his
head slightly to the side and started sucking on Stiles’ bottom lip, his teeth
nibbling every once in a while. Stiles just stood there with his eyes closed
like an idiot. He had never really been kissed before, at least not like this,
and he didn’t know what to do. He had hoped that instinct would just kick in,
but it really didn’t. Derek bit against his lip particularly hard and Stiles
gasped, opening his mouth a slightly.
Derek used the opportunity to dart his tongue into Stiles’ mouth. He tried to
pull back a little, not really sure how he felt about the intrusion, but Derek
just followed him back, not letting him break the kiss. They stumbled a little
before he felt his back hit the counter and Derek pressed their bodies together
again, wrapping his arms back around Stiles. It was strange to feel someone
else’s tongue in his mouth and… a little disgusting. He tried not to think
about it or the fact that Derek’s stubble was really scratchy. He stood there
awkwardly for a few more seconds before Derek broke the kiss. He was breathing
heavily when he looked at Stiles. His eyes were glowing red and it would have
scared him if he hadn’t been used to it.
“Why are you just standing there? Did I do something wrong?” Derek asked. His
voice was all breath as he panted out the questions.
“No! It’s just…I’ve never done this before. I’m not really sure what to do.”
Stiles couldn’t look him in the eyes and dropped his gaze to the floor in
embarrassment. Derek just took his chin in his hand and forced him to look at
him.
“Just do…something. We can…” Derek looked like he was struggling with what to
say. “We can stop…if you need to.” He looked sad after saying that and Stiles
didn’t like that one bit. Stop? Aw, Hale no! He crashed his lips back against
Derek’s, this time coming alive and actually participating in the kiss. He was
surprised how quickly the kiss turned into deep passion. Finally, instinct was
kicking in. Their teeth clicked together as they desperately attacked each
other’s mouths. Derek bit his lip again, using the same tactic to thrust his
tongue back inside of Stiles’ mouth.
It was still a little gross having Derek’s tongue in his mouth, and a little
intimidating, but it was also strangely…hot. Derek started to grind against
Stiles and he couldn’t help but make little squeaks and moans at the feeling.
The kiss broke for the briefest of moments as Derek picked Stiles up on plopped
him on the counter. Stiles spread his legs so Derek could get close again and
the kiss continued. He was a little sad that Derek stopped grinding on him and
left him painfully hard with no friction, but when his hands slipped under his
shirt it didn’t really matter.
His hands were like hot iron on his skin, and he moaned as they slid up his
sides. Before he knew it, his shirt had disappeared and Derek was trailing hot,
sloppy kissed along his chest. He threw his head back in pleasure, his hands
squeezing Derek’s biceps when he licked up to his collar bone and nipped at the
skin. Stiles was in complete bliss but the fact that the counter was hard and
cold made him a little frustrated. He patted Derek’s arm trying to get his
attention. “Couch…” he breathed out. Derek caught his lips again and scooped
him up. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waste he carried him to the
couch, kissing him wildly.
Stiles made an oompf as Derek practically through him down rather
unceremoniously, but he didn’t mind. Derek’s eyes were a bright red and he let
out a savage growl as he climbed on top of him. Stiles let his head fall back
against the armrest as Derek began grinding against him again. The way he made
Stiles feel should be illegal! Actually…it was…but that’s not the point!
Derek’s lips latched onto the tender flesh of his throat and Stiles moaned
again. He honestly couldn’t help himself from making the ridiculously unmanly
noises.
He shifted, moving his knees apart and wrapping his legs around Derek’s waste.
It was different feeling Derek grind against his ass, but not entirely
unwelcome. He gasped when he felt the hard length of Derek grind against him.
Derek smirked and kept doing it, harder after that. His hands tugged up the
bottom of Derek’s shirt but he couldn’t get it off. “Derek, lose the shirt.” He
sat up, stripping off his shirt and throwing it on the ground. Stiles only had
a glimpse of his ripped body before he felt it against his own. Derek attacked
his lips again. They were starting to hurt a little from all the sucking and
biting, but Stiles found that he didn’t care. He jumped in surprised at hearing
a phone go off.
It sounded like it was Derek’s. They both silently agreed to ignore it and the
phone stopped ringing. More kissing and grinding tugged growls from Derek and
Stiles giggled as he felt the rumble tickle his chest. “You’re so beautiful
Stiles.” Derek moaned into his ear. He couldn’t believe those work just came
off of Derek’s lips, those perfect, kiss-swollen lips that he had been allowed
to nibble at and suck on. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He said with a smirk.
Derek growled as his phone went off again.
“Are you going to get that?” Stiles asked. Derek pushed him hard against the
couch with a thrust of his hips and Stiles let out a loud moan, far louder than
he would have wanted. He was glad no one was home…
“No.”
“What if it’s important?” Derek growled low, this time at Stiles, although he
knew it wasn’t malicious.
“We’re a little busy right now, Stiles!” he said, grinding again and squeezing
his hips to make his point. And, oh, what a fantastic point it was. Stiles let
it go and they went back to it. A few moments later Stiles’ phone rang and
Derek huffed. Stiles couldn’t take it. What if it was important?! He reached
into his pocket, pulling out his phone after swatting Derek’s hand away when he
tried to stop him. He rested his hands on Derek’s shoulder and looked at the
caller ID. It was Scott. “Stiles, I swear to God if you answer that phone!...”
Derek said into his neck. It rang again. Stiles really didn’t want to, but he
also really did want to.
First things first, the pack over his…pleasures. He pressed the answer button
and put it to his ear. “Scott, is this ngggn!... Is this important? I’m a
little busy.” He said, trying not to moan into the phone when Derek thrust his
hips again and nipped at his jaw. He did that on purpose! What a naughty
sourwolf!
“Dude, is Derek with you?!” Scott asked. His voice was full of panic. Stiles
hesitated but he answered anyway.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You both need to get down to the vet clinic, now! Isaacs’ hurt bad!” Stiles
felt his stomach drop and he froze. “Stiles!” Derek ripped the phone out of his
hand. “We’re on our way.” He said and hung up immediately. He was never one for
a lot of questions. They flew off the couch, Derek getting his keys and Stiles
picking up their shirts. They were out the door and on their way without a
word. Stiles just hoped it wasn’t as bad as the fear in Scott’s voice had
suggested, but knowing their luck, it was.
Chapter End Notes
     So, yeah, I'm not some crazy writing machine, in case you haven't
     already noticed. I've just been posting what I've already had done
     from FanFiction.net. I have 9 chapters finished already and am
     working on chapter 10. It's been like fo'evah since I posted because
     of school and things, but, yeah, I'm trying. If you like my writing,
     tell me you're a Monkie!
***** Werepigeons *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Derek sped down the road at full speed, not even caring about the speed limit.
He occasionally glanced at Stiles to see if he was alright at the speed they
were going. He was holding on to the armrest like it would save his life and
ground his teeth when Derek ran a few red lights, but other than that he seemed
fine. It didn’t take long to get to the clinic and when they arrived they both
sprang out of the Camaro and ran inside. Stiles pushed ahead of Derek with a
furious passion. Why was Stiles so concerned about Isaac? He had never really
cared much about Derek’s pack before. When they got to the back, Boyd, Scott,
and Allison were standing around the table with Deaton. Allison glared at him
as he entered.
Derek’s face paled when the gasp he heard from Stiles made him look at Isaac.
He was lying on the table in his undergarments with massive gashes all over his
body. They were deep and red and in one Derek swore he saw bone. The skin
around the wounds was shredded and small chunks hung there, barely attached. He
could see the flesh meshing together inside the wounds, very slowly, as Isaac
tried to heal. He was conscious and was staring up at Stiles who had run to his
side. “Oh my God! Isaac!...What the hell happened?!” Stiles asked frantically.
Isaac’s voice sounded surprisingly normal, almost like he wasn’t aware that he
looked like he had gone through a massive blender. “It was the hunters! They
took Erica!” Derek stiffened and he saw the sad, lost look that Boyd had on his
face. They would regret taking a member of his pack, mark his words.
“Hunters did this to you?!” Stiles asked, scanning over his wounds before
gagging and retreating to stand next to Derek. Even through the situation they
were in, he didn’t miss Scott’s disproving glare. Isaac shook his head.
“No, something else attacked me. It was with the hunters, though, and it
definitely wasn’t human. His skin made a squishing noise as a large part came
together and a chunk of dead flesh fell off. Stiles gagged again and buried his
face in Derek’s arm and squeezed it hard with a tight grip. Derek guessed he
wasn’t very good at handling gruesome situations, which was understandable. He
tried to control his feelings of desire as the boy touched him. Isaac looked
like he had almost died for God’s sake! He needed to get a hold of himself!
“What do you mean it was with the hunters? How is that possible if it wasn’t
human?” Derek asked.
“Simple. Here.” Deaton handed him a steel feather. It was covered in blood, he
guessed Isaac’s, and had strange black symbols carved into it.
“What is this?” he asked.
“A warning and a very, very bad symbol.”
“A warning and a symbol for what?” Stiles asked, feeling brave enough to look
at Deaton. He couldn’t help but glance down at Isaac, though, and buried his
face back into Derek’s arm after grimacing.
“It’s a warning for war. The symbol of the Tengu.”
“What’s a Tengu?” Scott asked. Derek admitted he didn’t know what it was
either.
“The Tengu were creatures that embody the spirits of birds. In Chinese,
Japanese, and many other Asian cultures they were described as demons that were
harbingers of war and did malicious things to the common folk. They weren’t
isolated to Asia, though, and had inhabited places around the entire world
once.” Deaton explained. Pops and cracks clicked into the air as Isaac’s
fractured bones mended. How the hell did he survive that attack?! He felt
Stiles shiver against him and he wrapped his arm around him and rubbed his
back, soothingly. Stiles pressed his face into his chest and came to stand
closer. Scott vibrated with rage at seeing it but still didn’t say anything.
“Once?” Allison asked, eyeing Derek and Stiles with a hint of disgust.
“Yes, they were thought to be extinct years ago. Apparently, they aren’t…”
“What does any of that have to do with why they were working with the hunters?”
Derek asked, trying to steer the conversation back.
“Tengu are war driven creatures, natural hunters. Most enjoy hunting, and for
many years were even bred and brought up for it. Years ago, it was common for
Tengu to hunt other supernatural creatures alongside human hunters.”
“Hunters trained and bred them to hunt with them?” Scott asked. Deaton threw
his head back with a full-bellied laugh.
“No, Scott, Tengu are very intelligent. They are a form of were-creature just
like the werewolf. They are just as human as you are and yet…not. Chances are
they’re even leading the hunters themselves.” Scott blushed when Deaton laughed
at him. Some things in life were too good not to smirk at.
“You mean to tell me that a fucking werepigeon did this to Isaac?!” Stiles
asked, his voice muffled by Derek’s chest, but they all heard him. Deaton
patted Stiles’ arm after tossing a blanket over Isaac. He seemed relieved but
Derek was sad at the loss of contact. He’d never let it show, though.
“I thought Malcolm was the one leading the hunters.” Derek stated. “Allison,
have you found anything on him yet?” Allison just glared at him and didn’t
answer. A few awkward moments passed before Scott cleared his throat.
“Allison?” he asked, expectantly. She gritted her teeth and grudgingly answered
Derek’s question.
“No. My dad has been making calls and researching, but no one knows who he is.”
She admitted. Well a whole lot of good she was.
“Not anything? Isn’t there, like, a hunter Facebook page or something?” Stiles
asked with an exasperated huff. Allison laughed.
“If there was it would be a lot easier, but there isn’t, so you just have to be
patient.” Although he was covered with the blanket, more pops and squishes
could be heard coming off of Isaac. Derek heard Stiles swallow and rub his
eyes, trying not to think about it.
“We need to go after them and get Erica back!” Scott exclaimed. Stiles nodded
his head and looked at Derek.
“And we need to find whatever attacked Isaac and kill it!” Stiles said, making
stabbing motions with his hands.
“Hold on, now. Tengu aren’t easy creatures to fight. You have to understand
there is more than likely a group of them.” Deaton warned.
“Well you said you thought they were extinct, maybe there is only one. Like the
last of its kind.” Allison said. Deaton shook his head.
“No, they wouldn’t have left the feather if there was only one. They are making
a challenge, coaxing us into battle. They wouldn’t do that unless they had a
war party ready to attack.”
“What should we expect then?” Derek asked.
“The Tengu will go by their bird names. For instance, a Tengu embodying a
pigeon,” he glanced at Stiles with an amused look, “would simply be called
Pigeon. The abilities of each Tengu will be reflected by its bird. You can use
that to your advantage as it will not only reveal their strengths, but also
their weaknesses.”
“We still need to know what they are, though.” Deaton nodded. They all jumped
as they heard Boyd’s stern voice.
“None of this matters. WE NEED TO GET ERICA BACK!” he screamed. Derek nodded,
quickly, and turned to Scott.
“He’s right. We need to go now.” Scott nodded to Allison and after a moment of
glaring at Derek, she moved with him, Scott, and Boyd toward the door. Stiles
turned and followed but he let out an oompf when Derek stopped him with his
arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“I’m coming with.” Stiles answered, resting a hand on Derek’s forearm. Derek
dropped his hand from Stiles’ chest and took a step into his personal space,
placing a hand on his hip.
“No, you’re not.” He said with a firm tone. Stiles looked at him with a shocked
face.
“Yes I am, Derek, I wanna help!”
“No, you’re not, Stiles!” The hand on his hip tightened and Stiles let out a
small noise, although whether it was in pain or surprise, Derek didn’t know. He
turned around to Boyd and Scott.
“Go, now!” They both turned and left, Allison following behind. Derek guided
Stiles by his hip out of earshot of Deaton, although he knew Isaac could still
hear. “Promise me, Stiles. Promise me that you’ll stay here.” He said. His
voice was low and serious but also had something else in it. It almost sounded
like…pain.
“No, Derek, I can help. Just let me!”
“Stiles, damn it, no! I…” he paused for a moment before he spoke again, his
voice softer and quieter, “I can’t risk you.” He looked into Stiles’ eyes,
silently begging him to do as he was told for once. He didn’t know what he
would do if anything happened to him. Just the thought of it made him
physically sick. “Promise me…” Stiles searched his eyes, although Derek didn’t
know what for. The teen wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him
into a kiss. It was sloppy and quick but altogether passionate. When he pulled
away he just as quickly captured Derek in a tight, desperate hug and rested his
head on Derek’s shoulder.
“I promise.” He said, just a whisper, a breath against Derek’s neck. He wanted
to stay there, stay there and hold Stiles like that forever, but he couldn’t.
The Tengu had taken Erica and he needed to get his Beta back. He lingered for
just a few more moments, enjoying the smell of chocolate before he pulled away
and strode for the door. He turned around right before he exited and looked at
the teen, begging him again to stay, but just as quickly, he was gone.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob sat in his shared room, enjoying the fact that his foster-siblings
weren’t around to bother him. He had spent most of the day trying to tip-toe
around fights and screaming children and he reveled in the peace and quiet. It
was the perfect time now to activate the seals, with the sun setting along the
horizon. They had been collecting information for nearly two weeks and he could
feel that they were ready to be activated, to spill the secrets of the
mysterious den house.
He blocked the door with a desk chair as it didn’t have a lock. He was alone in
the house, everyone else went out for dinner, but he still didn’t trust that
someone wouldn’t walk through the door. As soon as he was sure it was secure he
quickly summoned his grandfather. The phantasm didn’t even bother with a
greeting, a habit that he had just picked up. Jacob couldn’t say that he
minded, it was just that he missed it a little. It didn’t really matter in the
end, though. He sat in the center of the room inside a carefully drawn seal
drawn in chalk on the wooden floor. It was one of the only times he was fine
with there not being a carpet in his room.
Keeping with the theme of silence, his grandpa just nodded to him as a way of
saying ‘go ahead’ and Jacob did. He hated himself for doing it, hated that it
felt so natural, that it was so easy. He didn’t even think as he activated the
link with necromancy without the aid of a spirit. He felt the fingers of
corruption around his soul again, squeezing and snaking around him like a
python. He tried to push them back, although this time it was much harder. He
managed, but only just. The corruption was still there, though, like it always
was, just sitting like a stain on his being.
The information from the seals flooded his mind like the rush of water after a
dam broke. He had trouble sorting through the rush, as it all came to him so
quickly. He saw the house’s construction, from a time period he couldn’t place,
but he knew it was old…very old. The family that moved into it was large and he
could feel them, the werewolves. He saw the years flash by, quickly, and felt
the emotions of all those that stepped foot into the house. It was so
incredible, the rush, that it threatened to tear him apart. He wasn’t used to
seeing all the emotions, to seeing all the memories at once.
He wrenched his face up in pain and cradled himself on the floor as more kept
coming. The feeling as loved ones grew up and died in mere moments, their whole
lives whizzing by in seconds, was terrible. He knew them completely and shared
the grief when they died. He could feel what the inhabitants of the house felt,
every one. The happiness of family gatherings, the frustration of feuding
siblings, the sadness of death… And it was a lot of death. The years ran by and
he recognized the time period he was hurdling toward.
He saw the pack-family in the house, not all as some were gone, two of the
teens. But most were there. The rush of information slowed significantly as he
came to that part. He guessed he was nearing the end of the history. Jacob saw
them, laughing and playing in the house with smiles on their faces. He couldn’t
help a smile from appearing on his face at the feeling, but that didn’t last
long. It was all so sudden and he didn’t know how it happened. The information
being fed to him was skipping, almost like a movie would if its disc was
scratched. It had flipped completely from happiness and love to fear and dread.
He could smell the scent of gasoline and smoke in the air, he could feel the
panic. The house was alight with massive pillars of fire. Another skip jumped
him ahead and the house was engulfed in flame. The pack was trapped and the
fear and hopelessness he was feeling was so real he wasn’t at all surprised
when the tears started streaming down his face. He felt it! He felt when the
fire nipped at their skin, when it caught them and latched itself to them. He
writhed in pain and convulsed as he felt himself being burned alive. He
screamed as he felt the flame burn him down into nothing. Another skip took the
pain away instantly, well, the physical pain at least. He had felt them all die
and now the sadness and pain that he felt coming from the two searching the
remains of the house was so tangible and so sour that he couldn’t help the
wails from escaping him as he shared their grief.
Another skip brought him into silence…nothingness. The burnt-out, husk of a
house sat in the forest, completely abandoned. Time passed, although how much
time wasn’t certain. And the stillness was so…cold. It felt like he had
actually died with the family…with the house. He could barely breathe as yet
another skip dragged him forward again. He saw people, people that he
recognized, and some that he didn’t. He saw Derek and Laura, Allison and
someone he didn’t know. He saw Scott and Stiles, Peter and Jackson, Lydia,
Danny, the three betas. They all came with their own stories, their own reasons
for being in the dead house. He saw torture, unwanted family “talks”, threats,
and attacks from hunters…
He finally reached the part that he had wanted, the pack meeting that had
occurred two weeks ago. The information he gleaned from it was interesting, the
introduction to Derek’s pack being hunted again, but something else caught his
attention. It was something that had happened before that. It was right after
another pack meeting. The others had left and Derek and Stiles stood alone in
the house. Stiles was apologizing for something which didn’t really matter.
What did matter was when Derek pinned Stiles up against the wall. The feelings
pouring from him were delicious.
It was a warm feeling, bubbly and light, but also heavy and hot. He felt the
lust that was coming off both of them, but there was something else there,
something which he couldn’t place. It was sweet and hopeful, scared and unsure.
It made him go crazy and filled him with sanity all at the same time. It pulled
in apart in all different directions and put him back together again with ease.
He could guess what that feeling was, although he had never truly felt it
himself, but he almost couldn’t believe it. Too soon, the link weakened and
faded as the seals had divested all the information they had gathered to him.
The voice of his grandpa forced him to open his eyes. They stung from the salty
tears that had run from them and it was uncomfortable to look up at the
phantasm.
“What did you see? Was there anything useful?” his grandpa asked. Jacob slowly
nodded his head, still unable to unfurl himself from the perfect defensive ball
he had rolled into. “What? What did you find?” He was silent for almost a full
minute before he spoke.
“A way to capture the Alpha.”
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
It was dark in the forest. Derek and the pack had spent all day searching for
Erica and he was afraid that by the time they found her it would be too late.
Boyd was frantic. He had run off into the forest looking for her after they
didn’t find anything in the city. It was strange. Her scent was nowhere in the
air, almost like it had been intentionally stripped it. It made finding her
very difficult but Boyd had insisted that she was in the forest. Derek would
have protested but he knew better. Erica and Boyd shared something, a bond that
his kind could make. It was a mate bond, one of the strongest connections a
werewolf could make with another being. He didn’t bother asking how they had
forged it but he knew better than to question it.
The only real question was why it took so long for Boyd to pick up on the bond.
Something magical was definitely in play there, it had to be. The shifts and
crunches of the leaves under his heavy, running feet were the only sounds that
could be heard in the stillness of the night, that and the breathes that came
with running. He tried to keep up with Boyd but it was hard. Scott stayed back
with Allison, running at the human’s speed. Derek really didn’t know why she
was going with them. Erica hated Allison after the arrow incident and probably
wouldn’t react well to her being in her rescue party.
They ran for almost ten minutes non-stop before Derek halted, almost running
into Boyd. He saw Erica tied to a tree with a gag in her mouth and she was
struggling against her ropes. They must have been tied expertly if she couldn’t
break free. He extended his claws as he saw two figures standing next to her.
One was a man. He was tall and dressed in very plain clothes. He wore a grey
button-down shirt and sharply pressed khakis and brown shoes. He looked like a
blue-collar businessman. He was older, not as old as Gerard but older than
Peter. The grey in his hair overtook the light brown and his time-worn face was
cut into a cold, hard, expressionless guise.
The woman that stood next to him was different. She wore a very tight full
leather suit that almost resembled something that Catwoman would wear. Derek
let his heart flutter as he thought about Stiles from the reference but he
quickly pulled himself back into the seriousness of the situation. She was
young, maybe a little older than Derek, but not much. Her fair white skin
reflected the glow of the moonlight and her long, black hair was pulled back
into a pony-tail. She had dual guns drawn and at the ready as they approached
and Derek could smell the wolfsbane. He heard Boyd growl at them and moved
quickly to stand in front of him before he did something stupid.
Allison and Scott came up behind them and stopped just as they had. The man was
the first to speak. “Derek Hale I assume.” His voice was rough and he had a
southern accent. It wasn’t suave like Derek imagined a southern accent to be.
Instead it was gritty, almost like a tough, bad-ass cowboy.
“Yes. Who are you?” He answered cautiously. He had expected the man to not
answer the question but to his surprise, he did.
“My name is Great Horn and this,” he motioned to the woman, “is Heather
Malcolm.” Wait…Malcolm? Malcolm was a woman?! The glances that the others
exchanged showed that they were just as surprised. The woman nodded at them
with a large, knowing smile on her face.
“Why did you take a member of my pack?” Derek asked, getting straight to the
point. The laugh that Great Horn gave was hollow and unfeeling.
“Why do you think, boy? I know what you’re thinking, but if I had wanted to
kill her, she would be dead already.” Boyd growled, loudly, and lunged forward.
He stopped in his tracks when Malcolm pointed her guns at him. Erica was
screaming against the gag, probably trying to yell at Boyd for pushing matters
into the red zone… or, knowing Erica, encouraging it. It was incredibly
surprising when Great Horn reached a hand out and Derek and the others watched
as it morphed into a feathered talon. It still resembled a hand but the long
hooked talons were definitely not human, as well as the brown feathers that
sprouted from nothing and climbed up his arm. The swipe was quick and no one
even had time to react before the action even registered with them.
The ropes that bound Erica fell to the ground along with her. She wasted no
time in ripping off the gag and running into Boyd’s arms. They both retreated
to stand behind Derek as quickly as possible. Even though she looked terrified
Erica still found it necessary to growl at Allison. The hunter just ignored it.
It was safe to say that Derek was thoroughly confused.
“Why are you letting her go?” he asked. The hunters and the Tengu had attacked
Isaac, nearly killing him to get to Erica, and now they were just going to
release her? Why?
“She’s already served her purpose.” Malcolm said.
“What purpose?” Scott asked. Derek could feel that he was curious but also
terrified.
“The purpose of getting the pack here.” Great Horn answered. Derek’s eyes
glowed red at hearing the statement.
“Is this a trap?” he growled out through long, pointed teeth. Another hollow
laugh from Great Horn made his skin crawl.
“Yes, but not for you.” Not for them? What did that mean? It was curious how it
happened, like the universe had planned it out perfectly. As soon as the Tengu
said those words, he felt it. It was the feeling of fear and danger. He was
flustered at first, not really knowing where it had come from, but he paled as
he realized what it was.
“Stiles…” he breathed out. The pack growled around him. Malcolm smirked at them
and the two of them had the audacity to turn their backs on the pack and start
to walk away. Derek didn’t care, though. All he could feel was the overwhelming
urge to go to Stiles. He needed him, needed his help. Derek just knew!
“We’re just going to let them walk away?!” Allison asked, drawing her bow.
Great Horn stopped in his tracks. His head turned…and kept turning. He didn’t
move to face them but his head was turned almost completely around. It was
unnatural and a little terrifying.
“My dear, there’s really nothing you could do that could stop us from leaving.
I suggest you try to help your friend. If I know Eagle, he’s already done with
his work by now.” That was it. Derek didn’t even think, he just let his legs
carry him away, towards Stiles. He could feel the way to go as he cut through
the night air, not looking back or even bothering to see if the rest of the
pack was following. He didn’t even care that Great Horn and Malcolm had just
walked away. The only thing he cared about was finding Stiles. He was in danger
and time was running out.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Stiles sat on the step in front of the door to his house. He had left Deaton’s
clinic a while ago after Isaacs miraculous recovery. The boy had actually
managed to get up and walk around, although he stumbled around almost like he
was shit-faced drunk. It had been boring waiting there for Derek. He was
worried; worried that Derek was in danger. He was seeking out the werepigeons
and crazy bow-wielding hunters after all. He had promised Derek that he
wouldn’t go looking for Erica, and even though it was hard, even though he was
twitching to do something, he didn’t. He wanted Derek to trust him and he knew
that as long as Derek thought he was safe it would help him stay calm and
rational and hopefully not do anything brash or stupid.
It was cold outside but he wouldn’t go in. His dad was still at work and Stiles
hadn’t been inside the house alone since the phantasm attack. Although it was
almost shameful to admit, he was afraid to go in. Instead he decided to wait
outside until either his father got home or Derek did. Stiles smiled at the
thought. The homeless werewolf spent so much time at Stiles’ house it might as
well be his home. He slept in bed with Stiles, showered there, even ate there,
well, when they weren’t eating at Burt’s. His dad had even been getting
suspicious as to where all the food was going. Derek felt comfortable enough to
walk around in his underwear in his house, although that was when his dad
wasn’t there.
Stiles wished for a moment that it was just the two of them in the house, him
and Derek. His dad was gone so much it might as well be, but whenever he got
home Derek had to hide and it was a little depressing. Sometimes he’d let
himself imagine that his father knew and was fine with it. It was a fantasy
that he knew would never come true, though. Derek was an ex-wanted man. Hell,
he was still a criminal as far as his dad was concerned and finding him in bed
with his son curled into his arms was not a scenario Stiles looked forward to
testing. Not to mention that he was underage. That alone made the whole
situation totally fucked up. He let a heavy sigh escape him and laid his head
on his knees. Why was his life such a soap opera? As the Wolf Turns. He laughed
at his joke although there was no one there to hear it…or so he thought.
He heard a noise out in the distance. It was the sound of footsteps. They
seemed like they were meant to be hushed and fear imbedded itself into Stiles.
He could barely see past the porch light as the night was dark. He slowly got
to his feet and backed up against the door. “Derek?” he asked, timidly out into
the darkness. No one answered but he heard more footsteps. They were louder
this time, like the person had given up on hiding. They sounded like they were
coming toward him and after only a few moments a man came out of the shadows in
front of him and stood in the light. He was tall and blond with dark eyes. He
couldn’t really tell what color they were in the dim light. He wore a long
black jacket that hugged him perfectly, almost like it was tailored. The front
of his sand-colored shirt under the jacket was tucked into his low-hanging,
faded jeans.
He looked young, handsome, and put together, almost like he had climbed out of
a Macy’s catalogue. Stiles would have thought he was sexy if he hadn’t been
staring at him like a creeper in the darkness of the late afternoon. His palms
started sweating and he spoke with a shaky voice. “W-Who are you?” he demanded.
It didn’t help him sound threatening when his voice cracked and he cursed
himself for it. The man smiled, his perfect white teeth glistening in the porch
light.
“My name’s Eagle, pleased to meet you.” He said. His voice was deep and
mysterious and it made Stiles instantly think of the Master Chief from Halo.
God the man was sexy. He should have known, though, with his luck, that he’d be
a Tengu. Of course he was! Stiles was always the one running unintentionally
into danger. At the hospital with Derek’s uncle, at the auto shop with the
Kanima, at the police station with the hunters. It was just his luck! His heart
started beating hard in his chest and it was becoming difficult to breath.
“What do you want?” he asked sounding out of breath. Eagle took a step forward
and Stiles pressed himself against the door. He would have run inside but the
door was still locked and he doubted very much that he could get it open before
Eagle swooped down on him. Instead he stood there, fear melting him into a
useless puddle. The Tengu came right up to him, only about two feet away.
“I need you to come with me.” His voice was even and suggestive. He must be
crazy, though, if he thought Stiles was going anywhere with him.
“No way, dude!” he said when Eagle grabbed his arm. He tried to wrench it from
his grip but he was holding too tight. It hurt and Stiles just knew it was
going to bruise badly.
“You don’t really have a choice in the matter.” Stiles was scared, even more so
if that was possible. Where was Derek? All he could think about was when Derek
would come to help him. Wait… what the hell was wrong with him?! He was
perfectly capable of handling himself! Ok, so that was a lie, especially when
he was being dragged away from his porch by the muscled Adonis of a werepigeon.
Hadn’t he been the one who had tried to convince Derek that he could handle
himself? What would he say if he saw Stiles not even trying to fight back? He
wouldn’t be happy, that was for sure.
Stiles succumbed to a burst of energy, digging his heels into the ground and
pulling his arm away from the Tengu’s grasp. He scrambled away and made a b-
line for the door. The keys from his pocket were in the lock in an instant and
he fumbled around trying to unlock the door. He heard a shriek from behind him,
and he’d be damned if it didn’t sound just like an eagle. He tried to turn the
key but the old lock was being so fucking stubborn! He was too late, though. He
felt sharp talons dig into his arm, blood leaking out from the puncture wounds.
Forget bruising, that was going to scar!
It was painful when Eagle turned him around, his talons still embedded in his
arm. His other taloned hand reached up and wrapped around his throat. The man
had changed. Under the sleeves of the jacket Stiles could see sand-gold
feathers poking out. White feathers had replaced his hair, standing slightly on
end as he yelled at Stiles, his pale, yellow eyes burning with fury.
“There’s no way you can escape, so it would be better for you,” he twisted his
talons in Stiles arm and he let out a pained cry and squeezed his eyes shut,
“if you just cooperated.” Stiles was angry at himself for nodding, but the
searing pain in his arm made him weak. His eyes snapped open when a roar rang
out into the air. He felt brief pain again as the talons were ripped from his
arm. Stiles looked over at the two bodies that were on the ground, tousling
around and slashing at each other like crazy. It was Derek, thank God! The
Alpha had tackled Eagle to the ground and was clawing at him with a fury Stiles
had never seen him possess. “Stiles, run!” he heard a voice from behind him
yell. It was Allsion running up to him, bow drawn and knocked, with the wolves
following closely behind, wolfed-out and growling. He saw Derek fly through the
air as Eagle threw him off. As the Tengu stood up he was met with an arrow
imbedding itself right into his chest, then another, and another. Stiles was
frozen in place, too shocked to move.
“Stiles!” Derek yelled as Eagle bounded toward him. It was like the arrows
didn’t even bother him even though he was covered with them. He looked like a
feathery pin-cushion. He felt himself being scooped up into Derek’s arms and
carried away just as the vicious talons were about to slash into him. The three
Betas pounced on the Tengu but he didn’t even budge. Instead he threw them off
of him with and angry shriek. Allison had emptied all the arrows she had into
him, fifteen, but he wasn’t even fazed. Scott, Erica, and Boyd scrambled to
their feet when Eagle let out another shriek.
His body folded in on itself and started spasming violently. The perfectly
tailored jacket he wore ripped, as well and the rest of his clothes, as
feathers burst through the seams. His face contorted and stretched transforming
into the head of an eagle. A long, curved, sharp yellow beak protruded from his
face. Stiles gasp when two large wings unfolded from his back and the entire
pack staggered when he shrieked again. “Holy shit! Definitely not a pigeon!”
Stiles yelled, pulling at Derek’s jacket. Eagle had his eyes still fixed on
Stiles and started charging towards him. Derek moved in front of him, trying to
protect him.
Stiles was scared. The fully transformed Tengu was three times the size of
Derek, what did he hope to accomplish?! He was going to get himself killed.
Just as the creature lunged towards them, Deaton appeared out of nowhere. He
had something in his hand. It looked like a dagger, but had three sides. Stiles
didn’t really get a good look before he thrust it into the Tengu’s side. Eagle
shrieked and writhed in pain. His taloned hands grasped his side and Stiles
could see red vapor pouring out of the stab wound. It reminded him of the time
that Derek was shot with the wolfsbane bullet, only instead of blue the vapor
was red.
The Tengu hissed at Deaton but with a wave of the dagger, it retreated. The
gusts that its massive wings made as it picked up off the ground were so strong
Stiles had to hold onto Derek to keep from literally blowing away. The Tengu
soared into the air and flew away. Its shrieks and caws could still be heard
fading in the distance. The pack all ran towards Stiles, and Derek had rolled
up his short sleeve, inspecting the talon wounds. Stiles felt himself being
pulled into a bone-crushingly tight hug. Derek pet the back of his head as he
nuzzled into his neck, apparently not deterred by the present company. “Stiles,
are you all right?!” He heard Scott ask with worry in his voice.
“Yeah, I’m fine. What the hell did you stab that thing with, doc?” Stiles asked
the doctor with curiosity. He was having trouble breathing as Derek’s hug
didn’t show any signs of letting up any time soon. He didn’t mind, though.
Deaton handed him the dagger and he inspected it over Derek’s shoulder. It was
golden and intricately designed. The dagger did have three blades, each one
radiating from a center, golden rail that they were connected to. It looked
very ornamental with beads and gem stones in it shaft and finely chiseled
designs and symbols on the blades.
“It’s called a phurbu. Tibetan Buddhists used them to fight away evil spirits.
They work particularly well on the Tengu.” Stiles nodded and tried to hand it
back to him but he just shook his head. “Keep it, Stiles. You need it for
protection.”
“You’re bleeding badly.” Scott said as her reached for Stiles’ arm. He pulled
his hand back, though when Derek growled at him and snapped his jaws. Deaton
smiled. “I think we should leave these two alone for a while. Let’s go check up
on Isaac.” He said to the pack.
“But Stiles is hurt!” Allison protested.
“I think Derek has got this handled.” He waved a hand at the pack and after
some hesitation they started to walk away with the veterinarian.
“Stiles, call me later?” Scott asked. Stiles craned his neck around but
couldn’t face him as Derek wouldn’t let him turn around. The damn werewolf was
too strong for his own good.
“I will, Scott.” With that, the pack left, and Stiles didn’t even get a chance
to think before Derek picked him up bridal style and carried him into the
house, the phurbu hanging limply in his hand. Derek didn’t look happy when he
laid him on the couch. Stiles blushed when he remembered exactly what had
happened on that very same couch just that morning. When he looked into Derek’s
eyes, though, he didn’t see anything but…anger? Oh God…was he in trouble?
Chapter End Notes
     The Tengu are, indeed, real legends in Asian culture. I chaged some
     things around, though. I made them a type of werecreature as to
     better fit in the Teen Wolf universe. You like? :D If you like my
     writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
***** He Likes It Rough *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles bit his lip and fidgeted nervously under the heavy eyes of Derek’s less
than pleased looking glare. He hadn’t said a word as he carried Stiles upstairs
to the bathroom. He didn’t even listen to Stiles protests or react to his
struggling. He had plopped him down on the bathroom counter rather roughly and
he gasped when Derek ripped his shirt off and Stiles blushed again as he
remembered the morning.
Now Derek was knelt in front of him and was staring at his hurt arm. When he
put a hand on Stiles’ bare chest and rested the other gently on his shoulder as
he inspected the wound, Stiles couldn’t help but squirm. “Stop that.” Derek
commanded with a thick, rough voice. Stiles imagined that the contact affected
him too and he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. It was soon replaced by
a frown again, though, as Derek glared at him. If he wasn’t sure that he was in
trouble before, he was sure now. Silence hung in the air again. It was thick
and not necessarily uncomfortable, but charged and loaded. Stiles felt like any
moment the situation could explode and he definitely didn’t want that.
So, instead, he chose to sit in silence, the only sounds being the quick
breaths and hisses he made when Derek dabbed a cloth soaked in rubbing alcohol
over his wound, wiping up the blood and sanitizing it. He could see Derek pause
and clench his jaw every time he made a pained noise. The hand that had dropped
to his thigh as he cleaned the wound squeezed gently, almost like he was trying
sooth him, at the noises as well. Derek put away the cloth after the wound was
cleaned and reached for a bandage. The crinkling of the wrapping as he took out
the large patch was too much for Stiles. He had to say something or the silence
was going to choke him to death.
“Are you mad at me, Derek?...” he asked, timidly. His voice was low and quiet
and sounded pathetic and childish, even to his ears. Derek froze for a moment
but just continued what he was doing. There was more silence as he finished
putting the bandage on, rubbing over Stiles’ arm, gently. His fingertips
brushed his skin so lightly that it tickled. Derek hung his head low,
apparently not able to look Stiles in the eyes. A few more seconds passed
before he spoke. His voice was quiet as well and it sounded like it was tense.
“Why didn’t you stay at the clinic, Stiles?” he asked. His head was so close to
Stiles’ leg that his cheek would occasionally brush against his knee. Stiles
didn’t really feel like freaking out about it, though, as he was a little too
confused and curious as to why Derek asked him that question.
“I was bored, so I went home to wait for you.” Stiles said like it was the most
obvious thing in the world. Derek’s hand was still resting on his thigh and
Stiles meeped as he squeezed his it again, that time harder.
“I told you to stay. You promised me you’d stay.” Derek answered in that same
quiet yet tense tone.
“I did, Derek.” Derek looked up, finally meeting his eyes. They looked full of
anger and…pain.
“Stiles, are you seriously trying to lie to me about this?! I found you at your
house, of course you didn’t stay!” Derek was raising his voice now and it was
making Stiles uneasy.
“Wait, you actually wanted me to stay at the clinic? I thought-”
“Of course I wanted you to stay at the clinic!” Derek had stood up from his
kneeling position and shook Stiles by the arms, getting up in his face. His
teeth were clenched hard and he looked really pissed off.
“O-Ow!” Stiles yelped, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. Derek had clenched his
fingers right over his wound and it hurt like a bitch! He froze and a look of
horror crept onto his face as he realized he had hurt Stiles. He ripped his
hand from his arm like he had touched a hot flame and quickly turned around,
his back facing Stiles. Coward! Stiles was a little mad after that.
“What the fuck, Derek?! That hurt!” He yelled, holding his injured arm.
“I…I’m sorry…”
“You’re damn right you’re sorry! And for your information, when you said stay I
thought you just meant not to go after Erica!” After saying that out loud
Stiles could see how stupid he’d been to actually think that’s what Derek
meant, but he’d never let the werewolf know that. The loaded silence fell into
the air again, crushing them both. A full two minutes passed before Derek
turned around. He knelt in front of Stiles again and looked up into his eyes.
He took Stiles’ hands in his, after kissing one, a gesture that Stiles refused
not to let his heart melt at, even though he wanted to, and rubbed his thumbs
over them.
“I’m sorry…It doesn’t even matter, none of it matters. The only thing I care
about is that you’re safe now…” He let his gaze drop to their hands. “I just…Do
you know how scared I was? I felt it. I felt that you were in trouble. It made
go a little crazy.” His eyes flicked back up to Stiles’. “It’s just, I couldn’t
see you get hurt. I couldn’t see you die too, like everyone else I ever cared
about. I… I lo-” Derek paused.
Holy shit of all the shits that are holy! Please, don’t let him say what he was
thinking he was about to say! Stiles swallowed and Derek must have sensed his
unease. The words he was saying just floated out into space and died and Stiles
had never been so relieved in his life.
“Well…I care about you, Stiles. A lot.” He held onto Stiles’ hands like they
would save him from drowning.
“I know, Derek. I care a lot about you too.” That wasn’t a lie, he really did.
It’s just, if Derek had said what he thought he was going to say…He’s really
not sure what would have happened, actually. All he knew was that he really
wasn’t ready for that. Or was he?... Oh, God! Did he-
He didn’t have time to finish his thoughts, though, as he was pulled into a
tight hug. Derek lifted him off of the counter, unintentionally, but Stiles
used the opportunity to wrap his legs around his waist. They just stayed like
that, hugging each other with Stiles hanging on to him, as the minutes passed
by. After a while, though, Stiles moved his head to look at Derek. The man
sensed his shift and looked at him. Jesus, the man was so beautiful! He didn’t
even think, just leant in and kissed him. His scruffy stubble was scratchy, but
to be honest, it kind of just turned him on. How was he so lucky to be able to
just kiss someone like Derek? Forget Eagle, Derek was truly the sexiest man
alive! They broke the kiss as Stiles stomach made a pitiful noise. Derek just
raised an eyebrow at him, the cute bastard.
“Derek?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you make me some food?” Derek’s face turned up into a smile and he kissed
Stiles again. He walked them both downstairs while they were still kissing and
while Stiles was still wrapped around him.
Fuck yeah, noms!
                                 //Oo,,.,oO\\
The clack of gun parts rang through the cement room as Malcolm and her hunters
messed around with their weapons. Great Horn stood in the center, under the
single light that hung off a beam in the ceiling by an extension cord, and
watched them all with curiosity. Humans were such strange creatures. They were
so inferior in strength, speed, and, in most cases, intelligence, yet they were
always such formidable opponents. Well, except against the Tengu of course.
His ears flicked back as he heard someone approach him from behind. He didn’t
need to turn to know who it was. Great Horn was gifted with the ability to move
silently, but others were not. The sounds they made as they moved were so easy
for him to identify. It didn’t matter if he could identify him or not by his
movements, though, because the man spoke, his voice thick with a French accent.
“We have been waiting for such a long time. Is he ever going to return?” the
man asked.
Great Horn turned around to face him. The man’s skin was the color of wet dirt
and the light from the bulb made it glow with a slight aura of gold. “He’ll be
back, Falcon, he always is.”
“Always? Ha! What about the time he vanished for nearly three months?! Knowing
him he’s probably dead.” Great Horn couldn’t help a small, hollow laugh from
escaping his mouth.
“I doubt a pack of adolescents could best Eagle.” He heard Malcolm scoff from
her place at the table behind him. More noise crept around him from two more
bodies. The movements of the two were much more graceful than Falcon’s,
however.
“I don’t know, Great Horn. I’ve been watching these kids for a while now. They
can hold their own pretty well.” A very young woman said. Her light brown skin
had a similar affect to Falcon’s in the light.
“Ha! Do not be foolish, Raven, they do not stand a chance!” another woman said.
She had a heavy Japanese accent and she wore a decadent pink, silk kimono on
her body, the patterns on the garment being of streams flowing from the
mountains into the ocean. Birds dotted the kimono, flying around and dropping
feathers which lined the garment in decadent arcs and swirls. The back of the
kimono was strange, however. It was missing completely, the fabric just draping
down onto her lower back and leaving the rest exposed. It wasn’t exactly like
the kimonos from her native country, and instead had been altered specifically
for the Tengu.
Raven just shook her head, strands of her long black hair falling into her
face. “You shouldn’t be so arrogant. I’m telling you, this pack isn’t as weak
as the others, they’re not going to go down easily.”
“And we are supposed to take this advice from a raven? It is a wonder how your
people even survived the Genocide of the Tengu! Ravens are weak! It is no
wonder you find these children formidable!”
“The Lakota Tengu aren’t weak, you hag!” Raven responded with venom practically
dripping from her voice. She looked like she was ready to slash the other
woman’s throat out, her talons already extended. Great Horn stepped in before
that could happen, though. He heard the sounds of another coming down the
entrance way to the bunker and he knew it was Eagle.
“Raven, Osprey, stop! The sound of you two arguing is like listening to a dying
werewolf, it’s so pathetic and unnecessary.” He said, rubbing his eyes, “Eagle
is back.” The other Tengu turned to face the doorway. Something wasn’t right.
Eagle sounded…hurt. Impossible!...wasn’t it? Great Horns suspicions were proved
right, however, when Eagle stumbled into sight. He was clutching his side and
had arrows stuck in his body as though he were an unfortunate practice target.
His clothes were torn to shreds and barely covered his body.
Although he could barely stand, the others didn’t move to help him, and he fell
to the floor in front of them. Raven looked at Great Horn with an unsure
expression, though, and he eventually nodded to her. She rushed to Eagle’s side
and immediately started pulling out the arrows. If they weren’t removed, he
wouldn’t heal properly and could die. Great Horn knew that even a juvenile
Tengu could take twice as many arrows directly to the heart, the real injury
must be the one he was clutching at his side.
He turned his head, and only his head, around to look at Malcolm and her crew
with a slight sideways glance as he wasn’t able to turn his head completely
around. They stood there, gaping at Eagle like the idiot humans they were.
“Malcolm, make yourself useful and get an injury kit.” His voice made the
entire crew of hunters jump and with a quick nod Malcolm went to get the kit.
Falcon let out a sinister laugh. “It looks like the children were too much for
him to handle after all. And it appears that he couldn’t even take the most
nonthreatening human out of the pack.” His face turned up into a large, mocking
smile.
“Shut up, you French ass-hole!” Eagle said, weakly, although he had attempted
to sound threatening. That just made Falcon laugh harder.
“What happened to you, Eagle?” Raven asked in concern.
“Can’t you see?” Osprey said, “He was obviously overwhelmed by arrows.” Both
Osprey and Falcon burst into laughter and even Great Horn let a chuckle escape
his lips. Malcolm returned with the injury kit and Raven immediately went to
work patching up the wounded Tengu.
“Shut up! You all know damn well that’s not what happened! One of those fuckers
had a phurbu!” Eagle said through gritted teeth. The whole room fell silent.
Raven even stopped cleaning his wounds for a few moments but it didn’t stop her
for long.
“A phurbu? Impossible!” Osprey said in denial.
“Does this look impossible to you, you Japanese bitch?!” Eagle moved his hand
and showed the stab wound that the phurbu made. It was still leaking the red
vapor. The other Tengu let out disapproving sounds.
“How is that possible? A legitimate phurbu has not been seen since the
Genocide.” Falcon said. It was true. All of the existing phurbu had stopped
being enchanted and maintained after the Tengu were thought to be wiped out.
It’s curious that one was still able to affect Eagle in that way, but even more
curious was that someone had the knowledge and the initiative to maintain the
enchantment, even though the Tengu were thought to be extinct.
Raven finished patching up Eagle’s arrow wounds and looked to the stab wound.
“How can we help him?” she asked. Great Horn walked over to the weakened Tengu
and knelt down. He forced him to move his hands away and inspected the wound.
“This doesn’t look too bad, although I have to admit that even I don’t know
much about phurbu wounds.” The southerner said. “It’s my guess that you’ll
probably die.” That got a smirk out of Falcon.
“What?! There has to be something we can do!” Eagle yelled. He sounded so
pathetic.
“I agree, we can’t just let him die!” Raven chimed in.
Osprey scoffed. “And why not? He failed a simple task. He could not even bring
us a weak human!”
“They stabbed me with a phurbu, how was I expected to be prepared for that?!”
“You were not expected to be prepared. However, you should have been able to
avoid it.” Falcon chided.
“What, Frenchie, you could have done better?”
Falcon just smirked and made a rude gesture with his hand. “Oui.” Great Horn
turned his head around and looked at Falcon.
“Good. Give it your best shot. Get the boy in a week, no more. Are we clear?”
he said. Falcon laughed at him.
“I do not know why you think you can command me, but regardless, I will get the
boy in a week.” Falcon didn’t even wait for a response. Instead he just walked
out the doorway and headed for the surface.
“Now,” Great Horn said, directing his attention back towards Eagle, “let’s see
what we can do for you.”
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Monday rolled around eventually. Sunday had been torturous. It was his father’s
day off so he hadn’t seen Derek almost the entire day because his father had
wanted to spend quality time with him. It wasn’t a bad thing, though. Stiles
actually quite enjoyed spending time with his father. The problem was that
Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about Derek and no matter how much he tried the
only thing he wanted on Sunday was for the night to come so that he could
cuddle with Derek in bed. His father had sensed something was wrong and asked
him if he was alright several times.
He said he was fine every time even though he wasn’t. What was he supposed to
say? ‘Sorry, dad, I’m just thinking about my ex-criminal twenty-four-year-old
boyfriend.’ Somehow he thought that wouldn’t go over well. But when the night
finally did come around he literally jumped into Derek’s arms as soon as he
climbed through his window and showered him with kisses. He didn’t know he
could miss someone that bad. They practically spent every day together,
actually they did spend every day together, so it was amazing that neither of
them wanted to kill each other.
So as he was standing in front of the school, just staring at the doors, it
went without saying that the only thing that he could think about was when
school would be over and he could see Derek again. They had found each other in
the parking lot before and had a heavy make-out session, but when people
started showing up and staring as they walked by they figured it was best to
wait. He said goodbye and walked up to the school, even though he really didn’t
want to.
Stiles let out a heavy sigh as he accepted defeat and trudged up the walkway
and went into the school. He was startled when someone grabbed his arm pulled
him into an empty room before he even reached his locker.
“Wha- Hey, what the hell?!” The door clicked shut and he turned around to see
Allison staring at him. Her face was a mix of concern and anger and Stiles had
to admit that he was a little afraid of the girl. When she spoke she was quick
and to the point.
“Stiles, what the hell are you doing with Derek?” Stiles froze. He really
didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone because he wasn’t exactly
sure what his answer would even be. What was he doing with Derek? He was pretty
sure they were together, like, you know…together, but he’d be damned if he’d
admit that to anyone…voluntarily.
“What are you talking about?” he feigned innocence. Allison shot him a look
that sad ‘come one, really?’
“Stiles. What are you doing with Derek?” she asked again.
“I…nothing, God!” he threw his hands up in the air, resorting to his overacting
as a subconscious defense.
“Really, Stiles, do you think we’re blind? Are you with him?” He chewed on his
lip nervously.
“Well I…you know.”
“What the hell, Stiles?! Are you out of your mind?!” Yes, yes he was.
“What?”
“He’s dangerous, Stiles, a murderer!”
“Derek hasn’t murdered anyone!...Well, anyone who didn’t deserve it.” He bit
his lip hard as he realized what he just said. Allison looked livid. She
slammed him against the door and took a choke hold on his throat.
“What did you just say?” her voice was cold and quiet and that was way fucking
scarier than if she had just yelled at him.
“All-Allison, you know what I mean.”
“No! No, I really don’t Stiles!” She tightened her grip on his throat. “My
mother DIDN’T DESERVE IT! He MURDERED her, Stiles!” Stiles struggled against
her grip. It was kind of pathetic how long it took him to pry her hand from
around his throat. He should work out more or something. He rubbed his neck
idly and glared at Allison.
“Do you even know why Derek bit your mother?!” Stiles shot. Allison looked
surprised at his question. It looked like she really didn’t know what to say so
Stiles just continued. “You mother tried to KILL Scott!” Allison’s breath
hitched.
“She what?...”
“She tried to kill Scott, Allison. With a vaporizer full of wolfsbane.” His
voice dropped to a soft, nonthreatening tone. “Didn’t anyone tell you? Scott
called for help and when Derek came she attacked him. He was just defending
himself and Scott.”
“I…I…” Allison’s face was pale and she looked like she was about to throw up.
Stiles could see tears welling up in her eyes but she was too tough to let them
fall. “I need to go.” She said, brushing past him and practically running past
him out the door.
Well…that was awkward.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Lunch came soon enough to Stiles’ enjoyment. Allison was nowhere to be found
and Scott had asked him where she was. When he told him what had happened the
teen freaked out. “You WHAT?!”
“I told her why Derek bit her mother…”
“Why would you do that, Stiles?!”
“Weeeell, she was choking me and it was about time someone told her the truth
about Derek.”
“You shouldn’t have done that!”
“What, I was just supposed to let her keep thinking that Derek is some kind of
monster?!…Well, aside from him being a werewolf, but you know what I mean!” The
rest of the pack stood and watched and it was getting really awkward for
Stiles.
“Yes! It would have been better for her to not know! Just because you’re
sleeping with Derek doesn’t mean that everyone else has to see the ‘good’ in
him!” Stiles heart stopped. The rest of the pack shuffled around awkwardly, no
one willing to meet each other’s eyes.
“I… I’m not-” Stiles tried to say, completely stunned. Scott didn’t want to
hear it, though. He just waved his hands at him and scowled, running off
somewhere and leaving Stiles in a very unpleasant situation with the rest of
the pack.
So now that lunch was finally here he was glad that he could have a chance to
breath, even if he did have to sit at the same table with everyone after that
incredibly embarrassing moment. No one seemed to be willing to talk about what
had happened and everyone just ate in silence. Well, everyone except for Erica
and Jackson who had huge mischievous smiles on their faces and kept letting
little giggles erupt from them. Finally Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. He had
to clear the air.
“I’m not sleeping with him, guys!” he said, waving his arms around. He slunk
down in his chair a little as some people from the other tables gave him weird
looks. He really needed to learn to control the volume of his voice sometimes.
“Then what are you doing with him?” Erica asked, her grin widening. The others
stared at him expectantly. Why did he always get himself into these situations?
“Well…you know…I, uh… We’re just friends?” Real convincing there, Stiles…
“With benefits?” Jackson added. Stiles gaped at him.
“No!”
“Friends? You really expect us to believe that, Stiles? On minute you both hate
each other and the next you’re sharing passionate embraces?” Lydia said. Her
tone was unenthused, like she was bored with the conversation already.
“P-Passionate…embraces?” Stiles really didn’t know what to say and the huge
lump that took up residency in his throat made it hard to breath. Danny and
Jacob sat down with the pack and Danny looked around the scene with confusion.
“What’s going on, guys?” he asked. Erica was the one to answer, the bitch.
“Stiles was just about to tell us about all the hot, crazy sex he’s been having
with Derek.” Her eyes were burning with mischief. Stiles couldn’t even answer
and just let out a rather unmanly squeak.
“I knew it!” Danny chirped, a little too excitedly. Stiles was frozen in a
state of shock and although he tried as hard as he could, he couldn’t find
words. Stiles, couldn’t find words! What the fuck?!
“You did?” Jackson asked with curiosity.
“Well, I had my suspicions.”
“I bet it’s rough. Derek looks like he likes it rough. Is it rough, Stiles?”
Erica asked. He swore, if she said ‘rough’ one more time he would fly across
the table and rip her hair out.
“Of course it’s rough, but Stiles looks like he can take it.” Jackson said. The
table erupted into laughter. Were they seriously talking about this?! A fiery
red blush exploded on Stiles’ face and after that he finally was able to speak,
albeit not very well.
“I- What?! There is no sex, or roughness- We’re not- I’m not- I- Oh my God!” He
buried his head in his arms and wished he were dead.
“Awww, so it’s soft and sweet? That’s so cute.” Isaac said, his voice mocking
but actually had an undertone of sincerity. Stiles glared at him and really
wished he had the ability to strangle people with the Force like Darth Vader.
“No! There is no sweetness, no roughness, NO SEX! I’M NOT HAVING SEX WITH
DEREK!” He yelled. The cafeteria was silenced and everyone was staring at him.
Oh God, please kill him now. He was pretty sure his skin tone permanently
changed to a flush red.
“Well then what is with you two?” Boyd asked in a serious tone after the other
students went back to their own lunches and conversations. Stiles really didn’t
want to talk about it anymore, but he knew if he didn’t then everyone would
just jump to their own conclusions.
“We’re just… We’re kind of seeing each other. But there’s no sex! God, guys!”
“No sex yet.” Erica smirked. Stiles really hated her right now. Lydia huffed.
“No sex? How boring. Give me an update when you get some, though. Until then,
you’re going to tell me everything about your relationship.” She said. Was she
serious?!
“What? No! That’s kind of personal guys! Why are we even talking about this?!”
“I don’t know, but I haven’t been this entertained in a long time.” Jacob said
with a smile.
“Look, I just-” Stiles began to say but he was interrupted by the bell. Thank
God! He quickly got up without a word and ran for the door, not even worrying
about his tray.
“Don’t think you can get out of this, Stilinski, you will tell me everything!”
He heard Lydia yell as he bravely ran away. God, he needed to get out of there!
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob lay awake in his bed in the dark. The other kids in the room were sound
asleep, but he wasn’t. He glanced at the alarm clocks dim, green glowing
numbers. They read 12:23pm. He figured it was good a time as any. He very
quietly snuck out of his bed and slipped out the door. The rest of the house
was quiet and the darkness was broken occasionally by the moonlight shining in
from the windows. He walked through the living room, his bare feet tapping
quietly against wood as he came to the door leading to the basement and
traipsed down the stairs after shutting and locking it securely behind him.
The basement was pitch black and he couldn’t see a thing but he had come down
here so often over the weeks that he stepped through the darkness and just let
his instinct and memory carry him to where he needed to go. The charged air let
him know he wasn’t alone even before he turned on the light and when he did his
grandpa gave him a quick nod. With the light shone on the cold cement of the
basement floor and revealed the symbols that he had drawn on it. Each one of
the eight representing a different power and they were connected by a circular
line drawn through them. Jacob stood inside the circle and looked to his
grandpa.
He had done this so many time before now that he didn’t even need time to
prepare anymore. “Are you ready?” he asked. He was going to start anyway, but
his grandpa held up a hand.
“No. This is taking too long, Jacob.” He said.
“What do you mean?”
“The Power Siphoning isn’t giving out enough energy. You can’t give me what I
need and at this rate it will be years before I become a specter.” Jacob was
confused. He had always been the one to share his energy with his grandfather.
How was he supposed to find more to give when each session drained him too
badly already?
“Where am I supposed to find more energy?” he asked. His grandpa didn’t say
anything, just slowly looked up at the ceiling. Jacob looked at him in in
confusion before realization hit him like a train.
“Are you insane?! We can’t use them!”
“Why not? It won’t kill them if you balance the Siphon between them.”
“They have no business in this! I can’t take advantage of them like that!” His
voice was a raised whisper, not wanting to alarm the rest of the house.
“It wouldn’t hurt them. In the morning it would just be like they had a bad
night’s sleep.” Although that was true, how could he do that to the other
teens, to the children?!
“I can’t take advantage of them like that!” His grandpa looked at him with
disappointment.
“If you don’t do this, I will never make the transition.” Jacob was torn, but
not for long. He drew the line there! This wasn’t the first time his grandpa
had made him wonder. When his grandpa was alive he would have never supported
this. Why would he abandon his morals so quickly then?
“Grandpa, no. We’ll do it the normal way.” His grandpa didn’t look happy, his
ethereal face turning down in anger. Jacob shifted nervously when he walked up
to him. He placed a hand on his chest and the sparks skipped through his body.
There was something else, though. Jacob could feel the tendrils of the
corruption spring to life at the touch. They started to constrict around him
like they would if he had used dirty necromancy. He tried to push them back but
he couldn’t.
Jacob was afraid and when he tried to pull away he couldn’t move. His grandpa
looked him in the eyes and spoke. “Do it Jacob.” Something inside of his
snapped. His fear, his morals, everything, just crumbled away until the only
thing that he felt was an overwhelming urge to do as he was told. He nodded and
his grandpa released him with a smile. Jacob knew it was wrong, knew he
shouldn’t, but his body didn’t feel like it was his own as they both made their
way up the stairs after Jacob grabbed a bag from a chest downstairs.
He wanted to tell his grandpa that this was wrong, that it was evil and that he
didn’t want to do it. Every time he tried to speak, though, he felt the
corruption swell up and silence him. They went into the first room, the
children’s room. There were four in here, sleeping in the bunk beds. He heard
his grandpa speak next to him. “Dormite… Just in case they wake up.” The smile
he gave him was malicious. What had happened to his grandpa? He walked to the
first bed he could find. A little girl, Terra was her name, only ten years old,
slept soundly in it and Jacob tried to fight his body as he took out chalk and
a knife from his bag, but the corruption crushed his attempts again.
He took her arm in his hand and drew one of the eight symbols on her skin. She
stirred as he did it, but he knew she wouldn’t wake up because of the spell his
grandpa put over them. After the symbol was drawn he took the knife in his hand
and pressed the blade against the skin he’d drawn the symbol on. He fought hard
against the corruption but it was no use. If anything, trying to push it away
was only making it stronger. He clenched his jaw as he cut her arm. It wasn’t
deep, just enough to draw some blood.
He knew what would come next. He needed to speak the symbol’s name to activate
the Siphon. Latin wouldn’t work with this kind of necromancy. It was and old
practice and required an older language, the first language of necromancy. He
wouldn’t do it, though. He refused to speak the name. He tried so hard,
clenching his jaw tight, but he should have known it would be inevitable.
“Fixsusk.” He growled. His voice wasn’t his own and the complete and utter lack
of control over his own action made his eyes start to tear up. A blood red aura
was lit around her after he spoke and he watched as it swirled around like lazy
smoke and drifted to the phantasm. His grandpa absorbed it without hesitation
and in a split second it was over. The symbol had vanished and the cut had
healed. The only evidence left that anything had happened to her was that she
would feel weak in the morning. It seemed so innocent. Who was really hurt by
it, right? But Jacob knew it was wrong, he knew it was evil to do that to
someone against their will. The corruption in his soul grew and he knew it.
This is what his parents had warned him of. He was already too far gone.
“Good.” His grandpa said. “Now the others.”
Chapter End Notes
     If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
***** Runes *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Derek made a noise of protest when Stiles playfully elbowed him in the ribs. He
was standing behind the teen with his arms wrapped around his waist and his
nose buried in the crook of his neck as Stiles stirred sugar and flour together
in a large, glass mixing bowl. He knew Stiles liked it, though, so he didn’t
bother moving away and instead pulled him closer. Stiles giggled when the nose
on his necked turned to lips that peppered kisses up and down his pale skin.
“Derek, stop, I’m trying to mix.” Stiles said, struggling slightly, although it
had no real worth. He squeaked in surprise when Derek roughly spun him around
and pressed himself against his body. Derek couldn’t help a smirk at seeing a
blush creep onto his face. He loved it when he made Stiles blush. He looked
into the teen’s eyes for a few moments until he heard him swallow with
anticipation which made him press his lips to his. The kiss was soft but the
want behind it was almost painful.
“How about, instead, we go upstairs and I can mix you up.” Derek said against
Stiles’ lips.
“Really, Derek? That didn’t even make any sense!” Stiles said with a goofy
grin. A blush painted his nose and Derek couldn’t help but nuzzle it with his
own. “And besides, I told you I wanted to make these cookies.” Derek just
huffed, and went back to sniffing Stiles’ neck.
“Does it have to make sense?” He nipped at the teen’s neck to make his point
and smirked against his skin when Stiles let out a small sound. He didn’t have
much time to enjoy it, however, before he was pushed away by a very red and
smiley Stiles.
“No, Derek! Get me the eggs, please.” Derek pouted but the look that Stiles
gave him made him groan, angrily, in defeat. He went to the fridge as Stiles
went back to his mixing and took out a carton of eggs. “Hey, grab the vanilla
extract too.” Derek rolled his eyes but obediently brought him the ingredients,
setting them down beside the other ingredients, and then taking up his spot
behind Stiles again. He wrapped his arms around him and rested his chin over
his shoulder to watch him work.
Stiles mixed in some baking soda and… “Salt?” Derek asked with curiosity,
“Wouldn’t that make it… you know, salty?” Stiles just laughed and turned his
head to kiss his cheek.
“Awww, how sweet. How about you just enjoy the cookies and don’t ask
questions.” Stiles said, although there was really no bite in his words. Derek
just chose to nuzzle his neck some more as Stiles mixed in the butter, eggs,
and chocolate chips. He perked up when he smelled the chocolate. Derek could
say he had a thing for chocolate. It always reminded him of home and family
when he smelled it. Admittedly, it was a little painful to think of his family
every time he smelled chocolate, but now he had something else to associate the
smell with. He couldn’t help himself from inhaling a deep breath of Stiles’
scent, loving the fact that the teen emanated the intoxicating fragrance.
The hum of the electric mixer snapped him out of his trance and he watch again
as Stiles expertly mixed the dough and then rolled them into little balls and
placed them on the cookie sheet. Derek moved away when Stiles went to the oven
and slid it in. “How long do you think?” Stiles asked.
“What, you don’t know?”
“It’s been a while and I remember how to make them but cook time is usually a
preference. Do you like them doughy or crunchy?”
“When my mom made them they were soft and delicious.” Derek’s heart fluttered
when Stiles smiled and set the timer. He felt like he could honestly melt every
time Stiles smiled for him.
“Soft and delicious it is then.” Derek couldn’t help himself when he grabbed
Stiles and held him close, wrapping him up again in his muscled arms.
“I know something else that’s soft and delicious.” He said.
“Really, Derek, you’re so corny!” Stiles just struggled out of his grip and
sauntered over into the living room. Derek watched the swish of his hips,
whether intentional from Stiles or not, and it made him a little crazy.
“You’re such a tease.” He said, following him to the living room and sitting
down on the couch. Stiles scooted up into his side and he wrapped his arm
around his shoulders.
“You love me anyway.” Stiles said. Derek felt him tense up immediately after
saying it. To be honest, it made him a little mad that Stiles would be so
uncomfortable with the thought of Derek loving him, even in just a figurative
sense. “Umm… I-”
“I know what you meant, Stiles.” Derek snapped. He couldn’t help the anger from
sneaking in his voice. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes before
things finally mellowed down as they watched Wizards of Waverly Place. Derek
started to growl and he felt Stiles shift against him.
“Would you stop that? It’s all…rumbly. What’s the matter?” Stiles asked,
letting his head fall back against Derek’s shoulder to look up at him.
“This is such a childish show.”
“Haha! Yeah…” Stiles laughed. Derek raised an eyebrow at him.
“Why are we watching it then?”
“Um, because it has Selena Gomez in it? Duh!” Stiles answered like it was the
most obvious thing in the world.
“So?”
“So she’s awesome! And her looks aren’t bad either.” Derek ground his teeth as
he couldn’t help another growl from escaping him.
“You like the way she looks?”
“Awww! Are you jealous?” Stiles laughed as yet another involuntary growl
rumbled in Derek’s chest. God, why can’t he control himself?! “Oh my God! You
are, aren’t you?!”
“No.” Derek said sternly, a scowl plastered on his face. He blushed when
Stiles’ laughing just got stronger.
“Ok, whatever, grumpy cat!”
“Grumpy cat?”
“Yeah, grumpy cat, you know?” Derek looked at him like he had tiny spaceships
orbiting his head. Stiles studied his face with a smile for a while before it
slowly faded into a look of disbelief. “Oh. My. God. Are you serious? You don’t
know what grumpy cat is?!”
“Should I?” Stiles just gaped at him and Derek felt like an idiot, even if he
shouldn’t, for not knowing what the hell he was talking about.
“Oh my God! Why am I even dating you?!” It was Derek’s turn to tense up.
“Dating? We’re…dating?” Stiles shot him a confused look and shifted uneasily.
“I thought we were…” Derek opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.
Derek did enjoy what Stiles had said and was jumping for joy on the inside, so
why couldn’t he say anything?! Another awkward silence floated in the air. They
sure have had a lot of those lately…
“I…we…” Derek tried to force words but there was still nothing. Why can’t he
just say something?! It’s not even that big of a deal! Only it was a big deal
at the same time. Whatever he said, he didn’t want to say the wrong thing and
fuck everything up with Stiles. Although, not saying anything at all probably
wasn’t helping either.
“Listen, Derek… I… I thought we were dating and I-” He didn’t let Stiles finish
his sentence before he attacked his lips. He caught Stiles completely off guard
and when he managed to scoop him up and position him to straddle his lap, Derek
smirked with victory. He deepened the kiss and Stiles finally seemed to wake up
and return his enthusiasm, their teeth clicking together every so often. By the
time they broke the kiss they were both blushing furiously, panting heavily,
and were both particularly…excited. That was to say that Derek had a raging
hard-on that he was shamelessly grinding up against Stiles’.
He enjoyed the look on Stiles’ face and the small sounds he made every time he
thrust his hips up. He kept grinding and loved watching Stiles turn to jelly in
his lap. The teen’s mouth was hanging open as small puffs of chocolate breath
escaped it, and his eyes were closed, his head tilted back slightly. Derek
moved his hands up to stroke his sides as he thrust up particularly hard.
Stiles let out a loud moan and buried his head in Derek’s shoulder. Derek
didn’t like the position he was in. It was hard to do much of anything that
way…well, while clothed that is.
Instead, he pushed Stiles off him just enough so that he could slide the shirt
up and over his head, revealing his pale chest and Stiles gasped when his lips
found a nipple. Derek licked it slowly and nipped at it a few times. The noises
Stiles was making were enough to make even the straightest man ever spring a
boner, he was sure of it. Derek growled when he thought about someone else
getting Stiles to make those noises. Only he was allowed to do that to Stiles,
to make him lose control and sputter those maddening sounds, and he wasn’t
going to share! But luckily for Derek, Stiles was his and so he didn’t have to
share. He’d make sure no one else got Stiles but him!
Derek could feel that his wolf fangs had extended when he ground his teeth
together and rubbed his face on the soft skin of Stiles’ chest. Stiles made
another needy sound when the stubble on Derek’s face scratched his skin and
that was it. Derek practically exploded with desire. He roughly picked Stiles
up and slammed him down on the couch. The boy breathed a shaky gasp when he
connected with the cushions and Derek all but ripped his shirt off before
pressing himself down against Stiles, reveling in the feel of his skin against
his. He aggressively pushed Stiles legs apart and slid in between them,
crushing their groins together again.
Stiles moaned when Derek started grinding against him again. He hooked his arms
up under Stiles’ and wrapped his fingers over his shoulders, pulling his body
impossibly closer to his. He was sure that their chests were pressed so hard
together that not even air could be pulled through them in the vacuum of space.
Derek didn’t even think, he just kept grinding against Stiles. His hands found
their way to Derek’s muscled back and his finger pressed into his skin,
hopelessly trying to find purchase. Derek attacked his neck with sloppy wet
kisses and fierce bites. He tried incredibly hard not to break the skin with
his fangs and the effort just made him even harder.
And, oh God, the sounds that Stiles was making! They sounded so pitiful, so
needy, and so…slutty all at once! How was it even possible for one person to be
so damn sexy?! Stiles wrapped his legs tight around Derek’s waist and his arms
around his back, trying not to fall. Derek didn’t even realize that he had
picked the boy up off the couch and was holding him against him as he ground
harder down against the teen, one arm bracing himself on the arm of the couch
and the other wrapped around Stiles’ back. He licked a slobbery trail from the
boy’s sternum all the way up his throat and nipped at his chin with long,
pointed fangs. Derek growled angrily when the sound Stiles made from the action
was mixed with the annoying beep of the oven timer.
He ignored it though and tried to distract Stiles from thinking about it with a
deep, tongue-twining kiss. He knew he failed though when Stiles turned his head
to break the kiss. “Derek,” he said, although it was only a breath, “the
timer.” Derek ignored him to nip at his neck again. He thought it worked when
Stiles just let him keep taking advantage of him for another minute or two, but
when he felt the teen try to struggle away he just let him fall back onto the
couch and pressed him into the cushions, preventing his escape. “Derek, if we
don’t take them out now they won’t be soft and- ngn!... Soft and delicious…”
Stiles choked on the air when Derek replaced his aching groin with his palm and
pressed a cupped hand over Stiles denim-clad hard-on.
“I don’t care, Stiles.” Derek growled in his ear, smirking when a firm squeeze
of his hand made Stiles throw his head back with a moan, exposing his neck.
Derek didn’t waste time as his lips clasped onto the teen’s pale throat and he
sucked and licked and nipped every centimeter of the soft, alabaster skin,
although it was stained with a furious pink blush. That just made Derek even
hornier. Derek rubbed his hand against Stiles for another minute or so. His
fingers found the button of Stiles’ jeans and he effortlessly unlatched it and
unzipped his pants, letting his hand cup over Stiles through the much thinner
cotton of his Green Lantern boxers. Really, Stiles? Green Lantern again? That
thought only skipped across his mind for not even a second before he was pulled
back by his need.
The new contact must have spooked Stiles, though, because the boy was freaking
out. His heart was pounding extremely fast in his chest, and that wasn’t just
because of his arousal, and his breathing was on the verge of hyperventilating.
“D-Derek… ah! The cookies…”
“Don’t worry about them, Stiles…” Derek said, stroking up his length through
the cotton. Stiles arched up into him and ground his groin against his palm.
The sight of it made Derek forget to hold himself up and he accidentally fell
on Stiles, making the boy let out an oompf. He picked himself up again, though,
pretending it didn’t happen.
“If we don’t take them out now they’re going to burn!” Stiles said in between
moans of desire. Derek growled deep in his chest.
“Damn it, Stiles, will you forget about the cookies, we’re a little busy!”
Derek would be damned if fucking cookies were going to come between him
finishing what they had started on that very same couch four days ago.
“But, they’ll burn!” Derek roared, not growled, roared, teeth extended, eyes
red and everything. The sound made Stiles cower into the cushion with a look of
fear on his face. Derek took Stiles’ chin in his free hand and forced him to
look into his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust.
“Fine! But if you think we’re not going to finish this…you’re dead wrong.”
Derek picked the teen up, guiding his legs to wrap around his waist, and
carried him over to the kitchen. Stiles hung on to him and Derek caught his
lips in a hot kiss as they walked. He stumbled around on his way, even running
into the wall once when he tried to guide them into the kitchen, but they made
it without falling over. Derek moved over to the oven and opened it.
“The oven-mits are in the-” Stiles began to say but gasped when Derek just
reached in and took the cookie sheet out with his bare hand, threw the sheet on
top of the stove, and slammed the oven shut again. “Oh my God, Derek! Are you
ok?!” Stiles practically shrieked in horror. Derek was fine. The metal sheet
had burned and hurt like a son of a bitch, but he didn’t care. The look of
worry and concern on Stiles’ face, concern for his well-being, made him lose
all control. He quickly knelt down and laid Stiles against the floor, covering
him as quickly as he could. Stiles gasped as he was laid down and Derek hastily
pulled his pants down and off his ankles in no time at all, leaving him
shirtless but still in pants and Stiles in nothing but his Green Lantern
boxers.
“Derek, the floor is cold.” Stiles said underneath him. At that point, all
Derek wanted to do was whatever Stiles wanted. So far the teen hadn’t protested
anything that was happening and Derek didn’t want to fuck that up. He moved
Stiles up and spun him around. He sat on the floor, leaning against the
cabinets under the counter, and pulled Stiles between his legs, his back
pressing into his chest. Derek wrapped one arm around the teen’s chest, holding
him close, while his other hand grazed over the trail of hair leading down to
his crotch and slipped under Stiles’ boxers to grip his cock. The boy moaned
and leaned his head back against Derek’s shoulder and the werewolf used the new
position to bite at his jaw, his fangs never really retracting from before.
He pumped one firm stroke as an experiment, just to see the boy’s reaction.
Stiles moaned out an ahh! Derek smirked and did it again, earning the same
reaction. He wanted to try something else. He took his thumb and roughly slid
it against the slit of his member, making it sticky and slick with pre-cum.
That time he screamed out a ‘fuck!’ The sound of him cursing made Derek’s own
dick twitch in his pants, painfully reminding him that he was still trapped in
the confines of his jeans. “Oh, God, Derek, please, stop fucking with me!”
Stiles managed to get out, although it was strained and raspy. Derek didn’t
need to be told twice.
He started pumping his fist, hard and fast. Stiles started to moan and didn’t
seem able to stop. He squirmed and writhed and bucked against Derek and up into
his fist. The feel of him moving against his chest was making Derek lose
control. He desperately wanted to make this last longer, but he knew he
wouldn’t be able to. All he needed now was for Stiles to cum and that was it.
That was all he wanted. He pumped harder, his fist moving so fast that it
blurred with the motion. Stiles’ hands found his arm that was wrapped around
his chest and they squeezed hard into his forearm, his vocabulary reduced to
one word: Ahh!
He was surprised that Stiles lasted as long as he did at that speed. The horny
teen must do a lot of masturbating in his spare time. It was odd, though,
because in the weeks Derek has been with him he had never seen or smelled any
evidence of it. That must mean that this was going to be his first release in
over a month. “Ah, fuck, Derek, I- I-” Stiles moaned as an attempted warning,
but he wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Derek just kept pumping as think
spurts of cum shot from Stiles and painted his hand in the white, gooey liquid.
“Ah, Derek!” The sound of Stiles screaming out his name as he came and his
incessant squirming in the ecstasy of his release was enough to push Derek to
the edge and he came in his pants. Only the sound of Stiles’ voice was enough
to get him off. It was both embarrassing and extremely hot at the same time.
His fist slowed and eventually stopped as Stiles rode out the orgasm,
completely spent. He couldn’t even hold himself and he just slumped back
against Derek, both of them panting. They were sweaty and sticky and gross, but
neither of them cared.
They sat in silence, although it wasn’t awkward that time, with Stiles leaning
against Derek for nearly ten minutes as they both wound down from what they had
just done. Derek was the first to move, turning Stiles body and head to capture
his lips in a kiss. It was quick and sloppy, but the meaning wasn’t missed.
“Oh, by the way,” Derek said after breaking the kiss with a wet smack, “we are
definitely dating.”
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob sat at the large wooden dinner table. The light cast down from the cheap
chandelier was harsh because the light bulbs were missing the covers that
should have been over them. Although the light shined directly in his eyes, he
didn’t squint…or blink. In fact, he was staring. He was staring at Terra, the
little girl from that night. The night he tried to block from his memory. She
looked so innocent, not even aware of what had happened four days ago…none of
them were. As far as they knew, everyone had woken up tired and grouchy, but
they just chalked it up to a bad night’s rest, just like his grandpa had said
they would.
Jacob cringed at the thought of his grandpa. Who had that person been? His
grandpa would have never done something like that. Maybe…Maybe it had just been
because he was…dead. His father used to tell him stories about wraiths, spirits
who had been kind and loving in life but couldn’t accept death and went insane.
Maybe his grandpa wasn’t a phantasm after all…maybe he was a wraith. He was
pulled from his own head when the sound of his foster-mother’s voice met his
ears.
“Jacob, you’re awfully quiet. And why aren’t you eating?” she asked in her
raspy voice that could only belong to a long-time smoker. Jacob looked down at
his plate. There was pork chops sitting on it slathered in barbeque sauce and
he crinkled his nose at it. He had already eaten his share of side vegetables
but he was still hungry given the fact that it was a pitiful amount of food for
anyone.
“I’ve told you before, Sandy, I’m a vegetarian!” he snapped. The other foster-
kids looked at him in shock at the tone he shot the woman. Her face was raised
high with disbelieving shock as well.
“Excuse me? Don’t yell at me, young man!” she boomed. She stared at him with
hard angry eyes for a moment or two before they softened. She continued staring
with a pitying gaze. Jacob had seen it before, so many times. It was the ‘I
know your family is dead, but hey, cheer up’ face. A face he had come to
despise. She looked like she was about to say something but when she opened her
mouth Jacob cut her off before she could say anything.
“Can I be excused?” he said quickly and coldly. Sandy eyed him for a second.
“Did you get enough to eat?”
“Yes.” Jacob lied. She nodded at him, watching as he got up and walked to the
kitchen. After he was done rinsing off his dishes and putting them in the
washer, he slunk off across the house to the door of the basement. He glanced
around and listened to make sure no one was around. When he was sure he was
alone he slipped past the door, shutting it and locking it behind him. No one
ever came down to the basement but him, he wasn’t even sure if the others even
knew they had one, but he locked the door anyway.
He braced himself against the door, his breath coming in long shaky drags. He
hadn’t been in the basement since that night. He didn’t even want to think
about it. He should never have been so stupid! How could he have let himself
get corrupted?! The corruption… After that night he hadn’t been able to push it
away. It was just constricting him, a constant presence and a physical ache. It
was suffocating! He should have known since his grandpa first suggested blood
magic that he was in deep shit… He was so blind… He hadn’t seen his grand- or…
the wraith since that night either. He was a little afraid that what he was
planning on doing would attract him again, in fact he was sure of it, but he
needed answers and this seemed to be the only way to get any.
Taking a steadying breath he slowly crept down the stairs. His bare feet padded
across cold concrete floor as he came up to where he knew the light was. He
reached up and pulled the string to turn it on, his heart pounding in
anticipation. Light illuminated the basement, or at least some of it. Most of
the basement was still covered in darkness, but he had enough light for what he
needed. He was glad that when he turned it on his… the wraith wasn’t waiting
for him. He took the opportunity for exactly what it was and hurried over to a
large chest sitting up against the far wall. He knelt down and opened, sifting
through junk until he finally found what he was looking for.
It was a grey bad, made with simple and rough material, the kind he didn’t
know, and was bound by worn leather string. Some things inside clinked together
as he took it out and placed it on the floor in from of him. He sat down,
cross-legged, on the floor and opened the bag. He was trying to hurry, not only
because he didn’t want the wraith to interrupt him, but also in case someone
came looking for him. Jacob carefully turned the bag over and dumped its
contents onto the floor. His lips curled up into a smile at seeing the familiar
shards.
They were rune stones, Norse rune stones to be exact, although they weren’t
really ‘stones’ at all. They belonged to his family, passed down from
generation to generation. Each one was made from a shard of bone, the bones of
his past ancestors, and had a unique symbol carved into it and then stained
with the blood of the same family member that the bone belonged to. The set was
very, very old. It should have been creepy and disgusting, but all he thought
about was family… and how much he missed them. He quickly went to work turning
over the shards so they were all face down and mixed them up so they would be
random.
He was going to a do a rune casting. His father used to do them, he was
somewhat of an expert, and he had taught him about it. Jacob remembered quite a
bit about it, it used to be one of his favorite activities to do with his
father, oddly enough. When he was sure they were well mixed he took a breath
and began. He was going to do a five rune spread. It was very basic but would
give him the answers he sought. First, he needed a clear issue in his mind.
Something that needed resolving, like a question of sorts, that the runes could
answer. He thought hard for a moment before he came up with his issue:
What have I gotten myself into? Who am I truly associating myself with and are
they hurting me or helping me? What can I do to make things right?
Good, now for the next step. He stared at the assortment of runes, each one
face down and locked in mystery, and selected five that he felt call to him.
They drew him in, he felt strangely connected to them, which was good, it’s
what he wanted. He was careful not to turn them over as he laid them going down
in a column on the ground. Finally, the reading, and hopefully the answers to
his questions. He reached for the top rune and gently turned it over. He
studied the symbol painted in blood and contemplated its meaning. The symbol
went from a deep burgundy red to a bright red glow as his power interacted with
the rune.
The first symbol was Isa, ice. The first rune in a five rune spread was meant
to give a sort of overview of his current situation in life, the situation he
was asking about. He thought back to his lessons with his father and what the
rune meant. Isa, or ice, symbolized a sort of standstill. It suggested that the
caster was holding on to something old, something which no longer belonged and
that the same thing wasn’t good. The thing that couldn’t be let go would blind
you, fool you, and lead you astray from yourself. It didn’t take a genius to
see how that applied to him. It was his grandpa. He figured that rune would
state as much.
 
He huffed as he reached for the second rune and turned it over, the blood
glowing as it had for the other. The second rune was meant to show the
challenge, or the optimal outcome. He had cast Othila, the rune of separation.
Othila encouraged the caster to move on from old things and forget the past
because it’s unhealthy to dwell on them. The rune suggests that without the
separation the caster becomes poisoned… He paled as he remembered the exact
word his father had told him: corrupted. He shook his head, trying to ignore
how the thought made the blackness in his soul slither and constrict.
Time for the next rune. He turned it over and stared at the glowing symbol. It
was Thurisaz, the rune of the gateway, only it was reversed, or not in it
correct position. That gave the rune a different meaning. In the spread, the
third rune was meant to give a course of action to realizing the caster’s goal,
or lead him to the answer of his question. In its reversed position, the rune
encouraged change. It wants the caster to bring in the new and push out the
old. He was beginning to see a theme. However, it also meant that he should
never go into a new decision without thinking or while in the wrong state of
mind. It wants the caster to put himself in a good position for healthy
decision making.
Next, the fourth rune, meant to show the sacrifice that must be given to
achieve a solution. He cast Inguz, the rune of new beginnings. It wasn’t a good
rune to have as a sacrifice. The rune deals with personal relationships and,
well, new beginnings, which coupled with the sacrifice, meant that he was meant
to give it up, to never possess it. Having Inguz as a sacrifice meant that he
would never know love or have a truly fresh start. He felt sick thinking about
it. That was at the core of anyone’s life, relationships and second chances.
What did it mean if he never got them?...
He decided to move on to the last rune. The final rune was meant to show the
caster what was to come in the future. He hesitated, his hand hovering over it.
Should he even turn it over? He thought for a moment. He had come this far
through the reading, so it would be pointless to just not turn it over. He
slowly turned it so the other side was facing upwards. Jacob stared at the
shard of bone. The surface had no symbol, just a bright red, glowing surface.
It was blank. Odin, the rune of the unknowable. The rune was the ultimate
unknown. It symbolizes a fresh start, a new beginning and a freedom from the
old. The only thing was that the freedom often came at a price. A deathWhat are
you doing, Jacob?” he asked in an icy and quiet voice. Jacob couldn’t speak, he
just stared. After a moment of not answering the spirit took a step forward.
Jacob panicked. “GET AWAY FROM ME!” he yelled, springing to his feet.
He didn’t look back, just ran. He ran up the stairs. He ran through the house,
ignoring Sandy calling to him, asking if he was alright. He ran out the door
and through the streets. He ran fast and far, not stopping for anything. He ran
until his lungs exploded with sharp pain every time he breathed, until his legs
burned and turned numb. He ran until he reached the place he didn’t even know
he had been running to. He came up to the door of the house and banged on it
loudly, not caring if he was making a disturbance. “Danny!” he yelled into the
afternoon air. He waited for almost a minute but no one answered, so he tried
again. “DANNY!” he screamed, pounding on the door with both fists.
There was still no answer. He must be out, which meant, of course, he wasn’t
there. He wasn’t where Jacob needed him to be. He needed to see Danny, needed
to feel safe in his arms. He collapsed on the porch in a heap, not even caring
if he looked ridiculous, and pulled out the cell phone in his pocket and dialed
Danny’s number. He waited for two rings before he picked up.
“Hey, Jacob, what’s up?” he said over the line. Jacob felt himself relax a
little just at hearing his voice. He had started to shake and tears were
running down his face, rolling off and dripping onto the wood of the porch. He
prayed that he wouldn’t sound too upset when he answered, but his voice
betrayed him.
“D-Danny, where are you?” he whimpered.
“I just left to go out with friends. Are you alright?” Danny asked with an
abundance of concern in his voice.
“I…no. I need to see you. Can…I need to see you.” Jacob said.
“Yeah, ok, where are you?” Danny asked with a tone that suggested that Jacob
was a bomb ready to explode without warning.
“I’m outside you’re house. Just…hurry.”
“I’m on my way. Be there soon. I-” Jacob didn’t even listen to the rest and
just hung up the phone, although he didn’t know why. Oh, God, Danny, hurry. He
needed to be with him so badly at that moment that it hurt. He sobbed as fresh
tears started running down his face.
Chapter End Notes
     If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
***** Falcon Punch! *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles stood in the kitchen next to Derek, who was sitting reclined in one of
the table chairs. He watched as the pack snacked on the cookies that he and
Derek had made and fervently swatted Derek’s hands away every time he tried to
pull him onto his lap. It’s not that Stiles didn’t want to sit in his lap, or
anything, it’s just that it was hard enough just standing there with all the
looks the pack was giving them. Erica wouldn’t stop grinning like some sort of
twisted, maniacal cat, and every time Stiles pretended that it wasn’t getting
to him she would snicker, knowingly.
Scott was chatting with Allison, thank God, instead of casting disapproving
glares at Derek. Allison, apparently, was back, pretending like nothing was
wrong, and maybe she even believed it herself. She had tried incredibly hard to
make amends with the rest of the pack and they seemed to have responded
well…well, except for Erica. She still held a grudge even though Boyd had
forgiven Allison. It seemed to Stiles that Erica was the type of person to
forgive someone only after they’ve proven themselves again and again to make up
for whatever they did. In short, she was a stubborn hard-ass. But, then again,
that’s what Stiles liked about her.
Jackson had his nose crinkled up ever so slightly and would sniff the air every
once in a while. The faces he made would have made Stiles laugh if he wasn’t so
embarrassed about what he probably smelled. He stole a glance at Derek who just
smirked up at him. Asshole! Why wasn’t he freaking out like he was?! It was
like he was enjoying it! Stiles rolled his eyes and let out a tiny huff which
turned into a little squee when Derek finally succeeded in pulling him onto his
lap. Stiles didn’t miss the raised eyebrow that Lydia shot their way and he
blushed a rose-pink. He tried to get up and away but the arm that was thrown
around his waist was keeping him in place. After a few more seconds of
struggling he finally gave up.
The pack chatted amongst themselves, surprisingly, after that, not even caring
about Derek or Stiles like he thought they would. They were eating through the
cookies like they were all starving and that the sugary treats were the last
food on Earth. Stiles heard a bing and looked up at Jackson who was checking
his phone. He gave a disapproving glare at it before he looked up at Derek.
“It looks like Danny isn’t coming.” He said. His tone sounded more hurt than
annoyed, which was strange for Stiles to hear.
“Why not?” Derek asked in his ‘controlled tone’, although it had undertones of
anger. Jackson shrugged and let his fingers skip over his phone, texting Danny.
They waited a few seconds in silence before they heard another bing.
“He’s meeting up with Jacob.” Jackson said. Stiles heard Erica scoff and looked
over just in time to see Scott and Isaac share looks at each other. He felt
Derek’s grip tighten around his waist but when he squirmed uncomfortably Derek
instantly relaxed his hand.
“Why does he keep blowing us off for Jacob?” Boyd asked.
“They’re dating, hun, why wouldn’t he?” Lydia answered, waving a hand, palm up,
and rolling her eyes.
“That doesn’t mean he can get out of pack activities.” Derek growled. That
earned a laugh from Erica.
“I hardly think eating crappy cookies at Stiles’ house counts as a ‘pack
activity.’” She said.
“Hey! I- er… We worked really hard on those cookies!” Stiles protested. He felt
a familiar rumble come from Derek’s chest as he growled at Erica. She rolled
her eyes but backed down anyway.
“Hardly!” Lydia chortled, “Look, these ones are burned.” She pointed to the
cookie that Jackson was currently shoving into his mouth. Derek smirked a smirk
to end all smirks. Oh, God…
“We were a little…preoccupied when we were making that batch.” He said and
Stiles’ face lit on fire and burned a hot cherry red. Oh, God, kill him now!
Jackson’s face paled when he sniffed the air again and realization dawned on
him. He made a gagging noise and pushed the half-chewed cookie out of his mouth
with his tongue.
“Oh my God! I’m gonna be sick!” Jackson said, overdramatically.
“Please say that by ‘preoccupied’ you mean making out…” Boyd said, setting down
his cookie. Derek just shrugged and shook his head. The pack made disgusted
sounds and groaned after throwing the cookies back on the large plate they were
placed on. Scott just looked around at everyone with a confused expression.
“What?” he asked. Stiles loved Scott like a brother, but to be honest, the guy
was such a dumbass. Isaac leaned over and whispered something into his ear.
After a second he finally got it and slowly set down the cookie he was holding.
“Aww, come on!” Stiles whined.
“Yeah, it’s not like we jizzed in the dough.” Derek added. Stiles just slowly
closed his eyes and sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. Derek chuckled and
kissed his shoulder. Funny how he thought that helped the situation.
“Riiight…” Lydia said, drawing out the word, “I’m gonna go set up in the living
room.” She turned to go into the living room and the rest of the pack hurriedly
followed her out of the kitchen, their gazes cast anywhere but Stiles and
Derek. As soon as they were in the other room Stiles turned and hit Derek on
the arm. He just laughed and gave him a pouty face.
“Derek! What the hell?!” Stiles scolded in a loud whisper.
“What?” he asked in a tone of feigned innocence. Stiles glared at him.
“You know what! Do you have to be so… blah in front of everyone?!” Derek didn’t
answer, just pulled him down into a kiss. Stiles’ mind went completely blank
for a second when his lips met Derek’s, but he recovered quickly and pulled
away. “Derek! What if someone sees?”
“Who the hell cares, Stiles? The pack doesn’t seem to mind, and, to be honest,
I wouldn’t give a shit if they did.” He answered, trying to pull Stiles down
for another kiss, but he just shimmied out of Derek’s grasp and tried to escape
into the living room. Apparently, however, Derek didn’t like that, and Stiles
didn’t even make it out of the kitchen before he was snatched up and pinned
against the wall next to the entryway. Derek was instantly in his personal
space and he couldn’t help a whimper from escaping him when Derek’s leg slid
between his.
“Derek, what the- Mmmpf?!” Stiles tried to protest, but was cut off when Derek
shoved his tongue into his mouth. He tried to push the werewolf off him but the
man was like a damned immovable boulder of muscle and hot skin! The kiss didn’t
last long before Stiles felt the werewolf’s lips pull away from his mouth and
move to his neck. The guy had an obsession with his neck… not that Stiles
cared. Well, actually he did care in that moment! He moaned and immediately
regretted it.
“Derek! We can’t do this now, the wolves can hear us!” Stiles whispered in a
harsh tone. Derek’s head snapped up to look Stiles in the eyes. He slid his leg
up and against Stiles groin, causing him to moan again. “Derek!” Stiles
scolded, although with his lustful, breathy tone he really didn’t sound very
threatening. Derek rolled his eyes and moved his head to peek out into the
living room. Stiles saw his usual, mischievous smirk appear on his face.
“Oh my God… They can hear us can’t they?” Stiles asked in horror. Derek just
shrugged and went back to his assault on Stiles’ neck. He tried to not make
noises when Derek’s kisses turned into licks, but it was really hard not to.
“Derek, nggn! …Please, stop…” He had to bite his lip when Derek’s teeth grazed
over his skin. His hands ran up Stiles’ sides and back down again to rest on
his hips, and to his surprise, Derek actually stopped, but still kept his head
in the crook of Stiles’ neck. Stiles waited for a moment, half expecting Derek
to start back up again, but he never did.
“Well?...” Derek asked, breaking the silence and looking up into his eyes.
Stiles’ muscles twitched at the sound of his voice and, for a moment, all he
could do was gawk. He regained his composure soon enough, though.
“Well what?” he asked.
“Well, I stopped. That is what you wanted isn’t it?” Derek asked with a hint of
annoyance in his voice that caused Stiles to gulp. He really didn’t want to
annoy Derek. Every time he did it wound up having a bad outcome. Although,
Stiles didn’t really know how he would react now that they’re technically in a
relationship. Would he still be the short-fused, physical kind of guy he used
to be? Stiles thought about it for a minute before deciding it didn’t matter.
All he knew was that if Derek wanted anything from Stiles he sure as hell
better know not to be an asshole.
“I just want to watch the movie.” Stiles said. Derek looked at him with hard
eyes but they didn’t even stand a chance against Stiles’ and they soon melted
into a caring gaze and Derek smiled.
“Fine,” He said, “but we’re cuddling.” Stiles tried to protest but Derek
stopped him before he got the chance with a peck on the lips. “Nothing too bad,
Stiles, just cuddling. All I want is to be close to you.” His voice was soft
and lacked his usual ‘tough-guy’ tone. Stiles liked it when he spoke to him
that way. It made him feel special and wanted… and loved. He heard gagging
noises come from the living room and blushed, remembering exactly what they had
been talking about not even a few seconds before. The pack could hear them…
He fought through his embarrassment, because he knew, on some level, Derek was
right. Why was it such a big deal to Stiles for the pack to not see them being
intimate? Maybe he was just shy… or maybe he was a coward. It didn’t really
matter, though. Derek didn’t seem to mind, and as long as he had the werewolf
by his side, he was pretty sure he could face anything, as corny as it sounded.
Stiles snapped forward and crashed their lips together, smirking into the kiss
when Derek let out a grunt of surprise. He didn’t waste any time, though, in
gripping Stiles’ hips tight and pulling their bodies closer together.
Stiles pouted when he had to break the kiss. He would have loved to continue
it, but after Derek started grinding against him he knew it kind of defeated
the whole purpose of what he was just saying. Instead he took Derek by the hand
and led him into the living room. When they arrived, the entire pack stared at
them, Erica with that same damn grin. Bitch. Correction, bitch, but he loved
her anyway…but only just if she kept that up. Stiles’ heart began to pick up at
being scrutinized by the pack members. Oh God, why was it so awkward for him?!
He was about to have a minor freak-out, but when he felt Derek squeeze his
hand, he looked back at him. He gave him a look that said ‘don’t worry’ and
Stiles instantly calmed down.
It was no big deal, right? Derek was there, and even though the pack kept
giving them looks, none of it mattered. Derek took the lead from there, guiding
them to the large leather chair that Isaac had claimed. Derek just growled and
bared his fangs and, with a look of fear, Isaac scrambled out of the chair and
took a seat on the ground, pouting that he was kicked out of the comfy chair.
Stiles smiled and when Derek sat down, he sat next to him, the chair being
large enough to almost fit both of them on the seat, and leaned against Derek’s
chest as he wrapped and arm around his waist.
“What are we watching?” Stiles asked, trying his best to not sound too shaken,
which he did pretty well.
“The Last Airbender.” Scott said, getting up to press the play button on the
DVD player, having never found the remote control after Stiles’ dad lost it
years ago. Stiles’ features stiffened into a look of anger and horror mixed
into one.
“Scott…” Stiles said, his voice cold, even if it was a little theatrical, “I
hope to God you didn’t just say what I though you said. You’re my best friend,
and it would be a shame to have to get Derek to rip you to pieces.” Scott’s
face paled when he looked from a very serious looking Stiles and a scowling
Derek who then began to growl, low and threatening. He swallowed audibly.
“Er...” Scott said with a shaky voice, ejecting the DVD and picking up another
movie case, “What I meant to say was Tron: Legacy?…” His voice turned up into a
half statement, half question. Stiles smiled with approval.
“Good boy.” He said.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob didn’t know how long he had been lying on the porch. He was curled into a
ball, his knees brought up to his chest, and his face felt raw with dried
tears. It was dark outside and he didn’t know just how much time had passed
since he had gotten there. He knew it hadn’t been very long, maybe just a few
minutes or so, but it felt like years. When he heard the engine and saw the
lights as a car pulled up in the driveway he couldn’t even bring himself to
move. He just laid there, curled in on himself.
“Jacob?!” he heard someone say after a door slam. It was Danny, finally. The
teen ran up to him and fell to his knees, gently laying his hands on his arm.
“Jacob, are you alright?! What happened?!” he asked in a hurried and frantic
voice.
“Nothing.” He responded. That was all that Jacob could think to say.
“Nothing? Don’t give me that! Look at your feet!” Danny all but yelled and
pointed at Jacob’s dirty, bloody feet, “Did you walk here barefoot?!” Jacob had
to think about it for a second. He had actually ran there barefoot, having
forgotten to put on shoes in his rush to get out of the house. He looked up at
Danny and nodded.
“I…” Danny said as if he were going to say something else altogether but seemed
to change his mind, “Can you stand?” He tried to help Jacob to his feet but now
that their condition was brought to his attention Jacob started to feel how
much pain they were actually in.
“I don’t think so.” He said. Danny just nodded and easily picked him off the
ground. He spent an awkward moment fumbling with the keys to get the door open
and when he finally managed he brought them inside and shut the door behind him
again.
“You’re lucky my room is on the ground floor, I don’t know if I could carry you
up the stairs.” Danny said. Jacob smiled despite his mood.
“Are you saying I’m fat?” He asked, his face resting against Danny’s shoulder
as he carried him.
“God, no, Jacob!” Danny reassured with a laugh. It wasn’t a happy laugh,
though. It was the kind of laugh that people give when they’re not quite sure
if it’s appropriate to laugh but they don’t know what else to do. It made Jacob
all the more depressed. He knew that Danny had no idea why he was so upset and
he silently thanked whatever was out there that he didn’t ask questions. Danny
walked them to his room and then gently laid Jacob on his bed. “Stay here, I’ll
be right back.” Jacob nodded and sat up on the edge of the bed.
He’d been in Danny’s room many times before but for some reason, under the
circumstances, it seemed like it was his first time in the place. It made him
feel awkward and out of place. Jacob had taken up twiddling his thumbs,
nervously, when Danny came back with a large bowl of water, some wash cloths,
and an old-looking, beat-up shoe box. He made a gesture for Jacob to hand his
legs over the edge and when he did Danny rolled up the bottoms of his pant
legs. He let Danny lift his feet and place them in the warm water. It stung at
first, Jacob guessed he put something in the water that would disinfect and
help clean the cuts and scrapes, but after a moment it brought nothing but
relief.
No words were spoken while Danny took the wash cloths and very gently washed
the dirt and blood from his feet, being very careful not to hurt him as he did
so. Instead, a very strange atmosphere filled the air, one that fluctuated
between a comfortable silence…and an extremely awkward silence. The trickle of
the water, which was now a filthy, murky color, was the only sound. It was a
small, timid, and quiet sound in reality, but to Jacob it was deafening. Each
drop seemed to scream and shout at him about how awkward the whole situation
was. He could only imagine what was going through Danny’s mind just then.
Finally Jacob couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“Is this weird?” he asked.
“Uuummm…” Danny said, thinking of something to say, “Yes.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No, I don’t think you’re crazy, Jacob. Why would I think that?”
“Because I ran here with no shoes and collapsed on your front porch.” Jacob was
really grateful that Danny’s attention was focused on his feet because he
really didn’t know if he could look Danny in the face without falling apart.
“That doesn’t make you crazy, Jacob, it just means that you’re upset
about…something.” A quick caring glance up at Jacob made him feel like he could
melt into a puddle. The silence came back and hung around after that while
Danny dried his feet off after he was done. Jacob watched as he lifted the lid
off of the shoe box. It was filled with fuzzy white socks. Danny took two of
them out and slipped them onto Jacob’s feet. They were the softest socks Jacob
had ever felt. It felt like he had clouds between his toes.
Danny smiled up at Jacob for another quick second that sent warm feelings
shooting through Jacob before he gathered up the things he’d brought and
slipped out of the room door. Jacob scooted up the bed and made himself
comfortable as he waited for him to come back. It didn’t take long, and when he
did return he climbed on the bed and laid to Jacob who instantly cuddled into
Danny. Danny threw his arms around him and held him close.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Danny asked. Jacob thought about it.
He obviously couldn’t tell him what was really wrong and how was he supposed to
come up with a fitting lie? Silence wasn’t a good option either but it seemed
like the most appropriate choice. He looked up at Danny with a worried face.
“Is that a no?” Danny asked. Jacob nodded his head.
“I mean…it’s not like I don’t want to tell you it’s just…I can’t.” Danny
shifted and stroked Jacob’s cheek with his thumb.
“Do you trust me?”
“What?” Jacob asked. He had heard well enough, but had asked none-the-less.
“Do you trust me?” Danny repeated.
“Yes, of course I do.”
“You can tell me anything, Jacob. I won’t ever judge you, or think any less of
you, or think you’re crazy.” The last part was spoken with a weak laugh that
made Jacob smile. Danny was good at that, making him smile, even when he wasn’t
trying.
“Danny…” Jacob sighed, “You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t understand.”
“I can try. I promise, there is nothing you can tell me that would be
farfetched to me.” Jacob could hear the smile in his words. Somehow he doubted
that ‘hey, I’m a necromancer’ was something that Danny heard every day. He
doubted that he could handle hearing something like that. Then again, he was
pretty sure Danny knew about the existence of werewolves, so maybe hearing
about other supernatural things wouldn’t be such a shock. He thought about it
some harder. Could he do it? Should he do it? Could he really tell Danny? He
knew Danny cared about him, a lot, but if he told him everything what was to
stop him from going to the Alpha?
Danny must have gotten impatient because he spoke up again. He took Jacob’s
chin in his hand and forced him to look up at him. “You can tell me, Jacob. I
promise I’ll still care about you just the same as I did before.” A large lump
was forming in Jacob’s throat. He tried to will it away but the effort just
made him start to shake a little. Jacob didn’t want to run him off but at the
same time, he was tired. He was tired of feeling so alone. His necromancy was
nothing to be ashamed of…well, aside from some of the things he had done
lately. He supposed he would have to tell Danny about that as well. He would
have to tell him everything. But was it really worth it?
He didn’t want to feel so alone anymore, especially since he didn’t know what
was happening with his grandpa’s spirit and with the corruption in his soul. He
needed someone to help him, to understand, or at least try to. Danny had
offered and…Jacob had decided.
“All right then,” he said, “I’ll tell you.”
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Raven walked along the sidewalk of the neighborhood. A slight breeze caught her
long, black hair and tossed it around in gentle waves. She had been in that
neighborhood before, when she had been watching the hyperactive one called
‘Stiles’. She would be lying if she said she didn’t like the teen, even though
he was supposed to be the ‘enemy’. He reminded her of some of her family back
in the Black Hills. She felt her chest tighten a little at the thought. It had
been five years since she chose to leave the Unkindness of the Ravens, time
that she would never get back. Raven wondered what her family and friends were
up to, what they had done over those years. It had been so long…
Dull noises flopped out into the night air as her rubber-soled shoes padded
against the concrete. She was curious as to where Falcon had gone. It had been
four days since he went on his hunt for Stiles and he still had yet to come
back with anything. Raven knew that he wouldn’t succeed. She tried to tell the
other Tengu, the Hale pack wasn’t going to go down so easily. Great Horn seemed
to think that after they took out the Roteaugen pack they could do the same to
any other pack. He was an idiot. She had seen first-hand what the Hale pack
could do.
The Roteaugen pack may have been organized and ruthless while the Hale pack was
disorganized and were constantly fighting each other, but the Hale pack’s
dynamic of the ‘dysfunctional yet functional’ family always seemed to work in
their favor. Each pack member brought something special to the mix, making the
pack diverse and unpredictable instead of rigid and oh so unoriginal. In fact,
one member in particular played a very important role in the pack, a role that,
if removed, could make the whole pack come crumbling down. That pack mate was,
of course, the spazzy one, Stiles.
Raven had been watching the Hale pack for quite a while. She had seen the role
Stiles took. It was funny how everyone seemed to overlook it, though, even the
teen himself. No one truly realized just how important he was. Not to mention
that he had a deep connection to the Alpha of the pack. Or rather, the Alpha
had a deep connection to him. It seemed like the Alpha had gone and found
himself a mate in the unsuspecting teen. She scoffed as she saw a figure in the
distance, perched in the branches of a tree overlooking Stile’s house. Well,
she was right, Falcon was there.
She half-jugged up to the base of the tree and just stood there, not even
bothering to acknowledge Falcon’s presence. He seemed content to do the same.
It also seemed to Raven that Stiles wasn’t even aware of just how much he meant
to Derek. She knew for a fact via expert espionage that Derek had told Stiles
what he meant to him…or at least tried to. The Alpha wasn’t very good at
verbalizing his emotions she noticed. Regardless, Stiles didn’t really show any
opposition to his affection. No, he seemed to even welcome it. No matter what
happened between the two factions of the Tengu and the Hale pack, it would be
interesting to see how it all played out.
Raven jumped and let out a small gasp when Falcon jumped down from the tree
right in front of her. She regained her composure very quickly, though, and the
cocoa-skinned Frenchman turned to face her. “What are you doing here, Raven?”
he asked. Raven always found it so taxing to have to try and figure out what he
was saying through his accent. It wasn’t too heavy, but it was just heavy
enough to annoy her.
“Seeing what’s taking you so long.” She answered. Falcon scoffed and curled up
his lip.
“I am on the hunt vous imbécile, what do you think is taking so long?!” he shot
back. She didn’t like his tone. Raven never understood the other Tengu’s
incessant need to try and prove themselves each other’s betters. If one was
truly better than the other, they should show it deeds and not through empty
words.
“And how is that going, Falcon? It’s been four days, and what, still no catch?”
she said, her tone mocking and laced with venom. Falcon just scowled at her.
She smiled in her small victory before taking pity on the poor soul. She never
was very good at watching others suffer or fail, even if they deserved it. “Do
you need help?” she asked with sincerity.
“I don’t need help from the likes of you!” Falcon resisted.
“Oh no, then what are you doing out here?”
“The stupid boy never leaves the house, and when he does he’s always
accompanied by almost the entire pack!” he huffed out in anger. A moment of
silence crept by before he spoke again. “It is impossible to get to him with so
many people guarding him!”
“It sounds like you could use a distraction.” Raven stated. Falcon raised an
eyebrow.
“I suppose I could…” he said, trailing off as if he was pondering the
situation. To say Raven was surprised would be an understatement.
“What, so quick to change your tone? I thought you didn’t need help?”
“I don’t need help,” he said, “ but that that doesn’t mean I couldn’t use it.”
He smirked at his own clever words.
“Alright then, what did you have in mind?”
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Derek couldn’t help but let his hands wander over Stiles body while they
watched…er… whatever it was they were watching at that moment. They had already
finished two movies and, to be honest, Derek was far too distracted by the teen
curled up in his arms to even care about anything else. Stiles had his head
resting against his chest, his eyes half-open and drooping. He looked tired,
but then again so did the rest of the pack. It was already eleven thirty-eight
at night and most, if not all of the pack had fallen asleep after they
descended on the pizza they had ordered like locusts.
He didn’t care, though, because the only thing that mattered was that Stiles
seemed to be trying to force himself to stay awake to finish the movie. It was
so adorable to see his head nod and fall and then shake himself back into
consciousness only for it to repeat again. Oh God, he did not just admit to
having feeling of adorableness… Actually, he did admit it, because when it came
to Stiles, everything Derek thought he knew about himself went flying out the
window. Stiles even tried digging his fingers into Derek’s shoulder a couple of
times, as if he could use him as a physical life-line to keep him from falling
asleep. It was so futile, though, and all it did was make Derek smile. He
watched as Stiles’ head nodded again and his eyes fluttered closed. That time,
it seemed, was the breaking point, as Stiles didn’t shake himself awake again.
Instead he let sleep overtake him and Derek listened as his heart started to
even out as he slept. He couldn’t help himself, not that he would have tried to
stop it, from leaning down and kissing Stiles on the forehead.
He nuzzled his cheek on the top of his head, loving the feeling of his newly
grown-out hair. It was possibly the one of the softest things Derek had ever
felt, and the chocolate smell that was trapped in his messy locks was enough to
drive him to the point of insanity. He inhaled, deeply and slowly, relishing
the scent like a connoisseur would relish wine. He let his hands idly stroke up
and down Stiles’ sides for a moment before he rested his palm over his ribcage.
Derek liked to feel Stiles’ lungs fill up with air as he breathed. As strange
as it was, it made him feel closer to the teen. Like maybe listening to his
heart beat and feeling him breath would somehow impossibly bind them together
in some way.
He looked up, prying his eyes away from Stiles’ perfect, innocent face as he
was deep in sleep to look over at the rest of the pack. They all were asleep
too. Scott sat against the couch and Allison had her head rested in his lap.
Erica was curled up into Boyd’s side with Isaac sprawled out over Boyd’s feet
on the ground. Lydia and Jackson were, of course, laid out in the perfect
position on the opposite chair, cuddling each other. Jackson’s chin rested on
her head and she laid her head and hand against him. Derek couldn’t help the
feeling of what could only be described as pure happiness overtake him.
It had been so long since he had felt like a true pack. Seeing the pack, his
pack, sleeping together…well it brought back memories of his family. He felt an
odd feeling of a happy sort of sadness when he thought about them. He loved his
family, his old pack, so much, but he had a new pack now. He had people to
protect…and people to love. Derek brought his attention back to Stiles when he
made a snorting noise and muttered something about evil demon kittens, but his
head just flopped back a little and he was soon sleeping soundly again.
Derek sat there cuddling Stiles for about fifteen minutes, listening for the
Sheriff’s car, when he heard something else. It was a hum. It sounded like
someone humming a tune of a song, and it sounded close…too close. He was
instantly on defense. It was most likely just someone walking by the house on
their way to God knows where, but he was still a little wary. He tightened his
grip around Stiles and listened. After a while the humming faded for a full
minute before he heard someone start to sing instead. It was so close, too
close then for someone to just have been walking by.
Derek’s eyes flashed red when he heard something scrape against the side of the
house. It sounded like someone was dragging a knife along the side. His eyes
flicked over to Scott and Jackson when their heart beats started to pick up.
They looked to him, unsure of what was happening, both of them absentmindedly
moving to protect their girlfriends just like Derek was trying to protect
Stiles. He saw their eyes flash yellow when he heard a voice come from outside.
“Here doggy, doggy!” a woman said. She singsonged it like a lunatic and Derek
thought that she and his uncle would get along nicely before he forced himself
back into the seriousness of the situation. The other wolves were waking up,
already sharp, alert, and ready to attack. The humans of the pack were also
blearily sitting up, woken from the stirrings of the others.
“What’s going on?” Stiles asked with a yawn. Derek looked down at him, and, as
if something deep inside of him activated at seeing his face, he went into
full-on protection mode. He got up quickly from the chair, maneuvering so that
Stiles wasn’t too jarred and went for the door. “Wait here.” He told the pack
without even turning around. He stopped at the door and peered out the window.
A woman stood out in the yard, looking through the bushes. He couldn’t really
see her face because waves of long, black hair were covering it. She was tall
yet thin, even more petite than Lydia surprisingly.
“Snuggles, here doggy!” she singsonged again. She appeared to be looking for
something and Derek could only assume it was this…Snuggles. He heard the others
creeping up behind him and he turned to glare at them. Why did no one ever
listen to him? They didn’t seem to care about his threatening looks, however,
and were all stealing glances out through the window.
“Who is that?” Lydia asked with curiosity and her ever present air of
superiority.
“How should I know?” Derek grumbled.
“What should we do?” Isaac asked.
“Stay here, I’m going to see what she wants.” Stiles said, walking towards the
door. Derek blocked him with his arm and gripped his shoulder.
“I don’t think so Stiles, I’ll go.” He said. Stiles must be crazy if he thought
he’d let him go out there at nearly midnight to see what some crazy-sounding
woman was doing in his yard.
“Derek, it’s my house. And besides, I’m perfectly capable of holding my own if
she turns out to be a crazy.
“You’re my boyfriend, Stiles…er, and pack. It’s my job to protect you. And no,
you’re not capable of handling yourself. I’ll go.” Derek went to open the door
and walk out but when he did Stiles just brushed past him and out onto the
lawn. “Stiles, damnit!” Derek scolded, running out after him.
“Um, can I help you?” Stiles asked as Derek came up behind him. He gripped his
shoulders as if trying to preventing him from moving. He knew that dragging him
back to the house wouldn’t only look strange to whoever that lady was, but
would also be damn near impossible with how stubborn Stiles was. They woman
straightened and looked up at them. Derek was caught off guard by just how
beautiful she was. Her caramel skin was flawless and her face was young and
soft and kind. She stared at them with honey-brown eyes that rivaled Stiles’
before she answered.
“I lost my dog, Snuggles.” She said. The way she sounded…something was off
about her.
“What makes you think it’s here?” Derek asked in a harsh voice. She cocked her
head a little and pinched her eyebrows together as if trying to figure him out.
Stiles elbowed him in the ribs.
“Derek, don’t be rude.” He said before turning his attention back to the woman.
“Did you see it out around here?” he asked. She nodded.
“Yes, I saw him poking around your bushes. I think he’s still somewhere around
here.” The way she had sounded before, like she was a little off, it broke
while she was speaking. It sounded like someone accidentally breaking an accent
they were trying to speak in. That made Derek all the more suspicious. She was
either acting, or really was just crazy in bits and pieces. Neither of the
options sat well with Derek, especially when said crazy was so close to Stiles.
She took a few steps forward while she was talking. The distance wasn’t
anything out of social norms, but Derek had to bite back a growl regardless.
“What does he look like?” Stiles asked hesitantly. Derek thought he must have
been feeling a weird vibe from her too.
“Oh, you know, he’s big, black, with cute pointy ears… and red eyes.” She
smirked at saying the last part and all the crazy was back in her voice. Derek
pulled Stiles closer to him, protectively.
“Right…” Stiles said, drawing out the word, “Who are you exactly?” he asked
suspiciously. She smiled and put out her hand.
“My name is Raven.” She said. Stiles just let her hand hang out in the air
until she dropped it, awkwardly. Derek did growl that time, taking a few steps
back and pulling a willing Stiles with him. They backed up to the concrete in
from of the door and the pack poured out of the house, surrounding them and
looking threating at Raven. She just stood there, her smile long since faded
and replaced with a look of…sadness? Derek took his eyes off her for just a
second to look at the side of the house. Five long marks ran alongside the
house. They looked like claw marks, or…
Derek paled. They were talon marks. “Stiles?” he asked very softly, “Where is
the phurbu?”
“Upstairs on my desk.” Stiles responded. Derek looked to Erica who got what he
wanted right away and, with a nod, ran into the house and up the stairs. Derek
saw Raven’s gaze shift upward to the roof of the house. “Stiles, go inside.”
Derek said, pushing him toward the door.
“What? Why?!” he said, trying to dig his heels into the ground and stop Derek
from pushing him but he just picked him up and plopped him across the
threshold. Derek didn’t have time to answer before he heard a commotion behind
him. He turned around just in time to Boyd get throw across the lawn. Derek
looked up towards the roof. There was a Tengu, a very, very large Tengu perched
on the edge, looking down at the pack. It hung over the edge a little, almost
like a bat. “Stiles, go!” Derek said, but Stiles had already shrunk back at
seeing the large black, white and gold feathered werecreature.
The other humans of the pack ran inside as the betas wolfed out, Erica joining
them with the phurbu. The large Tengu shrieked at them and leaped from the roof
and took to the skies. Derek watched as Raven just stood there. He expected her
to make a move, but she didn’t. She just…watched. Derek looked back up to find
that he had lost the Tengu. By the looks of the others, they didn’t know where
it went either.
“Where did it go?!” Scott asked with a little fear in his voice. A tenses
moment hung in the air but was broken when a brown, blurry streak and a gust of
wind tore through the group and Scott just disappeared. “Scott!” Derek yelled.
The damn Tengu moved so fast and it was almost impossible to see in the night
sky. After a moment Scott simply fell from the sky, landing on the lawn with a
loud thud, making a large and very evident crater. He didn’t move and Derek ran
to him with the other betas.
“Scott?!” he heard Allison scream. She ran out onto the lawn and knelt down
next to him. Derek looked back up into the skies, looking for the Tengu with
the others. “Scott, oh my God, Scott!” Allison yelled at him, panicking and
shaking his shoulders. Derek was relieved when he heard Scott speak, his voice
weak and he sounded out of breath. “Ooowwww…” he moaned.
“Boyd, Isaac, take Scott. Erica, give me the phurbu and then all of you get
inside!” Derek commanded. Erica handed him the phurbu but still took the time
to protest.
“Are you crazy, Derek, we can’t leave you out here alone!” she said.
“Erica, just do it! Go, now!” he shot back. Isaac and Boyd picked up Scott and
they all hesitated for a moment, well, except for Jackson, who was already
headed for the house. They all followed him soon enough, though, and left Derek
out there alone. Derek turned his attention back to Raven when she spoke. He
had almost forgotten she was there.
“Falcons can reach speeds of up to two hundred miles per hour while diving for
prey.” She said, “I doubt you’ll be able to resist.” She sounded like she
actually cared, like she was…concerned. Derek had a hard time pegging just what
she was all about, but he didn’t really have time to think more about her
before he was ripped off the ground and brought up into the air. Large, hooked
talons sank into his chest, gripping him while in flight. Derek watched as the
ground got further away as they ascended and he had to do something fast or he
was never going to survive the fall.
He took the phurbu in hand and slashed up into the white, feathery underside of
the Tengu’s wing. It shrieked in pain and the red, glowing wound spat out blood
as the wing folded involuntarily. They both were sent plummeting to the ground,
Derek taking the time to free himself from the grip of the Tengu. The ground
rushed towards them and he braced himself as he made contact with the lawn,
making another, deeper crater. The earth even cracked as he hit the ground,
making small fissures in the lawn.
His back had pain shoot through it and he could barely move, but when he saw
the large bird-creature falling toward him he somehow found the strength to
roll out of the way. The Tengu hit the ground with greater force than he did,
cracking the ground even more. Falcon didn’t take any time to recover, however,
and sprang back to its feet. Derek struggled to get up and watched as the Tengu
flapped its wing. It made pained noises at the action. Good, Derek had crippled
it from flying. At least he won’t have to worry about any unexpected trips into
the sky.
The Tengu was mad and it cawed at him, coming towards him with its talons ready
to strike. Derek was still recovering and, even though he tried, he couldn’t
dodge out of the way. The Tengu’s talons tore at his chest. He moved just
enough so that the gashes weren’t very deep, but they were still pretty bad. He
fell to the ground, looking up as Falcon raised its arm up to seemingly finish
the job. He felt pathetic in that moment. The fall shouldn’t have incapacitated
him that much and he should have never been put down that fast. He was useless.
If he were to die in that moment, who would protect Stiles and the pack?!
Falcon’s arm started to swing down and Derek knew he was about to die but,
then, seemingly out of nowhere Stiles was there. He had picked up the phurbu
and positioned himself between Falcon and Derek. “Stiles, no!” Derek screamed
in a panic. Stiles didn’t even flinch when Falcon’s talons came down on him.
Instead he slashed up with the phurbu. Derek heard the Tengu shriek. Stiles had
cut off two of its fingers which had fallen to the ground in a bloody puddle.
Falcon recoiled for a moment, but Stiles didn’t give him a chance and leaped
forward, driving the phurbu into the creature’s gut.
Nothing happened for a moment. Stiles and Falcon just stood there, paralyzed,
with the phurbu still in its abdomen. Derek watched as the wings on the Tengu’s
back receded and its form shrank down. The feathers looked like they were
dissolving away as the Tengu changed back into human form. Stiles lurched back
as the Tengu became a cocoa-skinned man…completely in the nude. He grasped at
his stomach and looked at Stiles like he was the devil himself. The other pack
members had ran out onto the lawn and surrounded Derek and Stiles, watching as
the man just took some very clumsy steps back and then turned and ran into the
trees across the road.
“Well.” Everyone jumped at hearing Raven’s voice. “It seems Eagle was right.
Surprising that an Alpha wasn’t more of a fight, though. Not much like a wolf
and more like a…wani yanpi.” She took the time to make a small, forced laugh.
The others watched her as she turned her back on them and started walking
across the street. “Goodnight!” She called over her shoulder. With that, she
disappeared into the same trees that Falcon escaped into. The pack stood
stunned on the lawn for a while but Stiles was already down next to Derek,
poking at his gashes.
“Ow, Stiles, Jesus!” Derek hissed, swatting away his hands. He looked up at
Stiles whose eyes were welled up with tears waiting to be spilled. The look on
his face was one of worry and concern. Derek sighed and pulled him into a loose
hug, careful not to irritate his wounds. It didn’t matter though, they were
already healing. As an Alpha, it wouldn’t take him nearly as long to heal as it
had taken Isaac.
“Are you alright?” Stiles sobbed into his shoulder.
“Relax, Stiles I’m fine.” Derek cooed. He rubbed his back and tried to sooth
him as he cried. In reality Derek was in a tremendous amount of pain, but at
least Stiles was safe.
Chapter End Notes
     Can you find and translate the three phrases that were in different
     languages? Anyone who can gets a cookie! :D If you like my writing,
     tell me you're a Monkie!
***** Stirrings *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“Derek, I’m telling you, it’s on the other side!” Stiles groaned, pulling at
Derek’s shirt. The werewolf looked up at him with an annoyed look that would
probably make any lesser man wet himself, but Stiles was no lesser man! Derek
had his hand slipped in between the cushion and the arm of his dad’s reclining
chair, fishing around for Stiles’ phone. They had fallen asleep on the chair
while watching a movie and Stiles’ phone had slid out of his pocket and fallen
somewhere inside of the crude, mechanical monstrosity.
“Stiles,” Derek said pointedly, grinding his teeth in annoyance, “I have
heightened hearing, I think I’d know which side it’s on!” Stiles could tell he
was trying not to lose his temper. “Oh my God! You’re impossible!” Stiles
snatched Derek’s phone from the coffee table and dialed his own number again.
He let his heart flutter when he saw his contact name was Fuzzy Head, but he
soon remembered that Derek was being a dick! After a second or two his phone
started ringing. Derek cocked his head to the side and Stiles saw his ears
twitch as he listened. Stiles thought, for brief moment, that it wasn’t fair
that the Universe packed so much perfection and cuteness into one man, but,
then again, Derek was his, so maybe he should be grateful instead.
Derek eyed him when the phone stopped ringing and Stiles eyed him right back.
Stiles smiled, knowing what was coming. Derek took in a steadying breath,
closing his eyes for a moment, before he pulled his hand out and switched it to
the other side. He mumbled something that Stiles thought might have been an
insult, but he was too busy blatantly laughing at him. He sat on the coffee
table, fiddling with his thumbs in boredom and watched as Derek fished around
inside the chair. He let his mind wander into naughty places, thinking about
how nice it would be to be that chair, but soon, even that was boring him. He
dialed his number again and the phone ringed. That time it sounded like it was
coming from the other side again. Derek growled in frustration and glared at
Stiles.
“Don’t give me that look, Derek! You must have made it shift to the other side
again with all your fishing.”
“Or it was on the other side to begin with!” Derek snarled. Stiles threw his
hands up in frustration. Damn chairs and damn werewolves!
“Call it again.” Derek ordered. Stiles just threw the phone at his forehead and
Derek made a squeaky whine when it hit him, and he scowled and rubbed his head.
He almost felt bad, but he was too prideful for that. “Fine!” Derek scrolled
through the contacts again and dialed Fuzzy Head. Stiles was quickly becoming
annoyed with Kids of ‘88 after hearing ‘Just a Little Bit’ play for the
millionth fucking time from his phone! Judging from the deepening growl coming
off Derek, he was too. Stiles flinched when the chair was flipped up, rather
roughly, and Derek was frantically searching for the phone from the underside.
The damn chair had so many folds of leather that it was impossible to tell
where the phone was! It was a new kind of torture that Stiles wasn’t sure they
could survive, especially not with Derek’s temper. “Hey,” Stiles warned, “be
careful with the chair.” When he took Derek’s phone again and dialed his
number, something must have snapped in the werewolf. Stiles’ eyes widened when
he saw his claws slowly extend. “Derek…” Stiles said very carefully, “Think
about what you’re doing…” He put his hands, palms out, in front of him, like he
was trying to sooth a wild animal. Actually, when he thought about it, he kind
of was. It was futile, though, and on some level, Stiles knew that. Derek just
shot him a smirk and, without a moment’s pause, viciously tore into the leather
of the chair. “Derek, stop!” Stiles yelled over the sound of the ripping
leather. He would have tried to pull Derek off the chair, but he knew it would
be useless.
Within a matter of seconds, the underside of the chair was shredded. Bits and
strips of leather fluttered down to the ground after being tossed into the air
and Derek sat amidst the carnage with a pleased smile on his face, Stiles’
phone in hand. “How the hell am I supposed to explain this to my dad?! It was
hard enough explaining the lawn craters!” Stiles griped with his hands on his
head. His face was pale. That was his father’s favorite chair! God, he was
going to get in so much trouble!
Derek went to sit next to Stiles on the coffee table and handed him his phone.
Stiles glared, but took his phone anyway. He was about to say something,
scolding Derek for his misdeeds, but lost his train of thought when Derek
pulled him into a kiss. He wrapped one of his hands gently on the back of
Stiles’ neck while the other moved up to cup his check. His hands were hot and
they felt like heaven itself against his skin. Derek pulled away with a wet
sort of squelching sound, and looked into Stiles’ eyes. “I’m sorry.” He said in
a tone of voice that made Stiles’ spine tingle. Damn him!
Stiles rolled his eyes, but still smiled, and moved over to flip the chair
right-side-up again. He looked at it, the damage nearly unnoticeable, hidden
underneath. “Well…I guess you can’t really tell…” Derek smiled up at him,
almost like he thought he’d won! That asshole! That just made Stiles narrow his
eyes at him. “But you’re cleaning this mess up!” he said, trying one last time
to assert his dominance in the non-fight. Derek laughed at him and just sprang
up and tackled him to the floor. He moved over Stiles and pinned him to the
floor with his body weight while he was still in shock.
Stiles blinked up at his smirking face, still trying to register what had
happened. “Hey!” he protested—although not really protesting—when he finally
snapped to it. Derek already had his face buried in the crook of his neck,
sniffing like some kind of crazy person, and had moved his leg between Stiles’.
His nose tickled the sensitive skin of Stiles neck and he giggled, not even
bothering to try and stop himself. He had become used to Derek’s affections,
well most of them… It was nice to have him touch him and snuggle him… among
other things. They still hadn’t gone further than a little touching, rubbing,
and…stroking, but that seemed to satisfy Derek. For now… Even still, Stiles was
quickly becoming more comfortable to being in a relationship with Derek and all
the things that that brought with it.
“Um, are we interrupting something?” Stiles jumped at the sound of Lydia’s
voice, honestly startled close to the point of death. He felt a familiar
grumbling in Derek’s chest when he growled at her and he blushed when he looked
up. The entire pack was standing in a sloppily formed semi-circle, staring down
at them with impish grins on their faces. Damn, Scott, he must have let them
in! Stiles knew that he had promised himself not to be embarrassed about
situations like that, but he couldn’t help himself from burying his face in
Derek’s chest and hiding under his body as a hot blush invaded his features.
The vibrations from Derek speaking, or rather growling out words, tickled his
nose. “Yes, you are!”
Lydia, who seemed to be more than willing to slash through the awkwardness and
take control of the situation, just huffed and rolled her eyes. “Well too bad.”
She said with little empathy, it seemed, for their feelings, “It’s pack time,
now get up.” She stepped over the two with a kind of grace that only she could
possess, and the rest followed, claiming their spots on the couches and chairs.
They all learned to leave Stiles and Derek the large fluffy, leather chair
after Isaac had a few unfortunate, erm…accidents that involved Derek’s strength
and the hard floor. Although, Stiles wondered if the old thing would even
retain its legendary comfyness, let alone work, after Derek slashed it up.
Stiles fought the urge to whine when the comforting weight of Derek’s body
lifted off of him, but it was soon remedied by Derek picking him up and
plopping them down in the broken chair. Well, it was still soft and plushy, so
that was good. Stiles snuggled into Derek’s side, a little disappointed that
they were robbed of what might have been a very satisfying experience. Ok,
maybe he was a lot disappointed. It didn’t matter, though, because Stiles had
recently taken up studying Derek’s face. He liked to try to gauge how he was
feeling, which was quite the challenge, given that Derek rarely showed any
emotion except grumpiness. Well, when he was in public anyway. He had learned,
however, through his oh-so-enthralling studies, that Derek was happiest when he
was with Stiles and the pack.
He could see it in the way the corners of his eyes turned up when he was
fighting off a smile. In the way he almost purred when stories were being
shared and laughter filled the air. He could see it in the way he held himself,
like he wasn’t as tense or so afraid to just let himself be comfortable. But
most of all, he could see it in his eyes, every time they would lock gazes. It
was a sort of sparkle that twinkled down deep, a sparkle that Stiles liked to
think only he could see. It was odd to think of anything having to do with
Derek as ‘sparkling’, but there it was. So, instead of moping about missing out
on some sexy-times, he just let it go, because he wanted nothing more than to
see Derek happy.
“Right,” Scott said, interrupting Stiles’ thoughts with a clap of his hands,
“who wants to watch The Matrix?”
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
“Get away from me!” Falcon protested, weakly trying to shove Raven’s busy hands
away from his body. Raven tried to breathe evenly and not get grossed out when
the stubs of his newly-forming fingers touched the skin of her arm. She scooted
a little further away from him where he was on his bed, but not for his
benefit, just out of disgust. He had been trying to shove her away for the
better part of ten minutes, and, to be honest, it was starting to grate at her
nerves. Everyone was so standoffish in the War Party. They never let her help,
even when they were injured like Falcon. He tried another lame shove, barely
managing to nudge Raven in his weakened state, and she just continued working
in silence, a hard scowl plastered across her face.
“Didn’t you hear me, Passerine? I said get away from me!” Raven clenched her
teeth at the name. Under any normal circumstances, being called Passerine
wouldn’t offend her. After all, that was what she was. But the way he said it,
there was venom in his words. He slanted them just so they would sting. He
thought himself so perfect, being a Prey-Bird like the others. As if they had
some kind of higher right to be just by their birth! Raven scoffed at the
thought. So what if her fingers curled and ‘accidentally’ dug into the phurbu
wound in his gut? She would never admit to doing it purposefully, or to
enjoying the shriek of pain it pulled from the Frenchman.
Falcon was still weak, so much so that the gasp and wild flailing he did was
enough to tire him out for Raven to actually finish changing his bandages in
silence. It didn’t stop him from assaulting her with a glare that could curdle
milk, however, but she didn’t mind, as long as he wasn’t attacking her with
words. She had gotten used to the War Party’s hate toward her over the years.
She had been shunned for times, blamed for things she didn’t do, verbally
abused, physically abused.
Any one thing could be considered minor, but when she had to live with it
nonstop for five years…they grew. The little things became bigger things, the
bigger thing became the worst things. A name would become a curse, and that
curse would be hers to bear. Eventually she had gotten used to it, even come to
expect it. She had gotten used to being torn down, to being the punching bag.
Yes, she had gotten used to their cold and hostile attitudes…but that doesn’t
mean it didn’t hurt. Her resolve was wearing thin, and she could feel it, the
proverbial ‘snap’ coming on. She knew that one day, very soon, she wouldn’t be
able to take anymore. She knew, she just didn’t know when. Until then, however,
she had to wait. She still needed the War Party for protection. Things get a
little hairy after you traipse across the country killing innocents. People
tend to hold grudges…
Raven quickly packed the things back into the first aid kit and snapped the lid
shut. Falcon was still glaring and she met his eyes and held his gaze for a
moment before she had to look away. She saw such anger and hate and disgust in
his eyes, all directed toward her. It was sad, really, the way the Prey-Bird’s
prejudices frothed out of nowhere. A moment of silence stuck in the air before
she spoke. “You know you’d be dead if it wasn’t for me.” She heard a scoff
erupt from his lips and looked back just in time to catch a particularly nasty
sneer.
“I could have managed on my own.” Falcon responded, stubbornly. Raven stood
from the chair beside his bed and looked down at him, her face blank and
unreadable.
“You were passed out when I found you in the woods. You know the others
wouldn’t have helped you. I carried you back! I spent four days keeping you
from slipping off the edge!” Her voice began almost as a whisper but grew
louder as she spoke.
“I didn’t ask for your help!”
“You did!” Raven rebutted, jabbing a finger in his face, “You asked for help,
we made a plan, and then you fucked it all up, didn’t you?!” Falcon looked
stricken and shocked at her tone, as if someone had just slapped him in the
face with a wet fish. Raven continued, “All you were supposed to do was grab
the boy, but you didn’t! Why?! You could have taken him as soon as he stepped
outside. That was the plan!”
“His mate followed him! Trying to separate them on a dive could have killed the
human!” Raven opened her mouth to shout back, but she snapped it shut to
prevent something stupid from coming out. She knew he was right. There was a
very good chance that he could have accidentally killed the boy. She huffed and
turned her back on him. She could have stayed there and argued for the sake of
arguing, pressured under his bigoted glare, but she knew he was right, so they
were done. The door was slammed a little too hard as she left his room and
angrily stomped down the hallway.
She followed the long path as it led her down towards her room. She passed
hunters and their sleeping quarters on her way, but, after seeing the scowl on
her face, they side-stepped her in fear. A few even scuttled away, not even
bothering to hide the fact that they were pathetic worms. Raven shook her head.
No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t think like them. They were just people
and they didn’t deserve to live in fear. She knows how it feels… Her feet came
to a halt in front of an open door when she heard her name.
“Raven…” a voice said in a calm, chilling, almost seductive tone, “Come here.”
Raven recognized the voice. Osprey. What she said, she didn’t even try to hide
it as a command. Raven debated whether or not she should just turn and leave to
spite her, but after a faltering moment, she hesitantly stepped into the
doorframe. Osprey sat in her room. It was lit with candles, casting long,
dancing shadows, and had various Japanese artifacts placed around the room and
hanging on the walls. Osprey was sitting on an ornately embroidered cushion
with her back turned to raven. Her posture was perfectly erect, the kimono she
wore falling gracefully over her body, almost like it was painted on. Raven
heard a smooth, metallic scraping sound and saw Osprey glide her arms smoothly
forward and then bring them back again. Whatever she was doing, Raven couldn’t
see.
“I said come in, not loiter.” Osprey snapped, somehow still managing to make
her voice seem even and graceful. Raven hesitated again. She had already
acknowledged that she was listening and had come that far, she might as well
just bite the bullet. She slowly crept her way inside, pinning her arms to her
sides and watching her step. She knows first-hand how vicious the Prey-Bird
could get when the order of her room was disturbed. A soft pluf sounded into
the silence as Raven plopped down on the cushion next to Osprey, as well as
another long scrape.
Now that Raven was sitting next to her, she could see what she was doing. She
held a blade in her hand, the long curved blade of a katana. She held it with
her right hand, carefully gripping it with a cloth to avoid being cut, while
her left hand rested over the blade and gently guided it over a whetstone
secured in a wooden clamp on a small table. She slid the blade across it with
another milky, metallic scrape. Raven flinched when she heard Osprey click her
teeth. “So clumsy. You are not a bag of rice to be thrown to the ground, you
are a woman!” Raven rolled her eyes.
“I didn’t come here to be insulted. What do you want?” Osprey clenched her jaw
and a tense moment rolled by before she continued sharpening her blade. Scrape!
“You still tend to him.” She said, stating it as a matter of fact and offering
no further explanation. It didn’t matter, though. Raven knew what she talking
about.
“Yes, I do.” …Scrape! The glisten of the oiled blade caught her eye as Osprey
slid it across the whetstone. She let her gaze linger over the sheen, entranced
by its glistening beauty.
“Why?” Raven snapped back up to Osprey when she spoke.
“He needs help. No one else seems to care, so I do.” She answered.
“He failed. You should have let him die in the forest like the worthless worm
he is.” Raven ground her teeth.
“I can’t do that.”
“And why not?” …Scrape!
“I can’t just let someone die when I know I can help them!”
“And why not? Falcon was never kind to you, you owe him nothing.”
“I don’t do it for him, I do it for myself.” Osprey paused for a moment, still
not managing to even glance at Raven the entire time.
“I see…” …Scrape! They sat in silence after that. Raven watched as Osprey
continued to sharpen her blade, her focus unwavering and precise. After a few
minutes, Osprey picked the blade up and inspected the edge. Raven noted the
fine grooves that marked the blade where it had grinded against the whetstone.
They were even and elegant on the silver metal. Osprey rose to her feet,
gliding up using the power of her legs to form a graceful illusion, as opposed
to Raven who fumbled onto her hands and forcefully pushed herself up. The Prey-
Bird walked over to another table where the hilt of the katana sat. After she
secured the blade back on and tested its hold, she sauntered over to a wooden
dummy sitting by the far wall. Raven stood next to her.
“Do you know, Raven,” Osprey said after a long moment, “why we operate the way
we do?” Raven didn’t answer, just kept looking at her expectantly. “Because,”
she continued, “when you attack the weak points,” she slashed the wooden dummy,
the blade moving so fast it was just a flash of silver light, “of a larger
foe,” another slash, “it seems harmless,” two slashes, “ like just an
annoyance.” Three slashes. She continued, “But when your attacks strike with
that amount of precision,” another slash, “every annoyance has a purpose that
helps topple the greater threat.” She let loose a flurry of blindingly fast
slashes, the sleeves of her kimono ruffling in the wake of her movements like a
ribbon in the wind. Suddenly, she stilled, and stayed her blade.
The dummy was covered in thin cuts and tiny nicks. It looked like someone had
attacked it with a sword, yes, but apart from that, it still held. Raven failed
to see what Osprey was on about until she brought the hilt of the katana up to
the wood and gently knocked it. The dummy let out a strange groan before
splitting into pieces and falling apart, chunks toppling to the ground. Raven
snapped her jaw shut, not even realizing her mouth was hanging open, when
Osprey spoke again. “You see, when you attack the weak points, and you have the
proper tools,” she elegantly brought the blade up to glisten in the light, “you
can bring down any enemy.” Raven stood in silence for a moment.
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying, I understand the importance of caring for and maintaining the
weapon, but if it cannot fulfill its duty, it has no purpose.” Raven ground her
teeth. She knew exactly what she was suggesting, but she wouldn’t stop caring
for Falcon, not so long as he needed to be cared for. She couldn’t just abandon
someone in need. She couldn’t… Osprey studied her face, finally looking up at
her. It was brief, however, as she sharply uttered, “Leave now.” with a wave of
her hand, and turned her back to Raven. Raven didn’t hesitate that time.
Instead, she turned and quickly exited and returned to her room.
                                 //Oo,..,oO\\
Jacob shifted his peas around his tray with the flimsy, plastic spork, his gaze
fixed intently on the tiny green spheres. He sat at a table against the far
wall of the cafeteria with Danny, away from the others. He missed them, the
rest of the pack. He knew that he really didn’t have a place with them, that
really his only connection was Danny, but he still missed them. It was
interesting to listen to their conversations when they talked, and comforting
to be close to laughter. If he tried, Jacob could even fool himself into
thinking he actually had friends. Real friends. But that was all a memory now,
stolen in just a few short days.
After he had told Danny about his…practices in Necromancy—what he had been
doing, what he had been planning—Danny freaked out. “We can’t let them find
out!” He had told him. Jacob didn’t like how the new information changed the
way he acted around him. He went from sweet and care-free to paranoid and
spastic. Jacob thought that Danny might still care a little for him if he was
still with him. He must care if the way he tried to block Jacob away from
everyone for his own ‘protection’ was any indicator. Jacob still didn’t like
it. He wished he could just take it all back, that he could just keep his
secret, but at the same time, he didn’t. Regardless of Danny’s reaction, he was
glad to have someone to share it with, glad to have someone who cared for him
enough to stay.
When school was over, Danny ushered him away from the crowd and drove them to
Jacob’s house. He had been surprised to learn that Jacob was an orphan—a fact
that was just one part in the massive confession a few days earlier—but still,
he stayed. Jacob hadn’t spoken to his foster mother much since that night and
she often threw him looks, an odd mixture between worried, annoyed, and uneasy.
Most times he tried to avoid her completely, and he and Danny would wind up in
the woods, messing around. He had shown Danny Sandy, foolishly not thinking
about how taxing it would be on the teen. It was so normal to him, raising her
corpse to play. Danny didn’t say much at first, just turned a ghastly pale
color and gagged a couple of times. Jacob was a little saddened at that, but
after a while, Danny came around. Jacob suspected he just forced himself to be
calm for his sake.
Unfortunately, the very day Sandy met Danny, it was also her last resurrection.
She had become too decayed over the days—over the weeks—and she couldn’t hold
herself to together. Jacob could use stronger necromancy to hold her together
with magic, but that required delving deeper into his power…into the corrupted
depths of his soul. The corruption never left since the first time it stained
his purity, and since, it had been slowly growing. Sometimes Jacob found it
difficult to fend off its temptations and halt its suggestions. His attempts to
push it back were failing, and every day he crept closer and closer to losing
his mind. He had become very good at fooling himself into thinking that
everything would be alright, that everything would work out. Deep down, though,
he knew it wouldn’t.
The days went on and the more time he spent alone with Danny, the more anxious
he felt. He loved spending time with him, loved it more than anything else in
the world. But it was in the peace of their time together that the corruption
called to him the most. It seemed to feed off killing the happiness inside
Jacob’s heart, so with every blissful moment, it stirred. Most recently, it had
been whispering to him from deep in his soul, telling him to…kill things. It
didn’t tell him to kill people, just small things. A cricket hopping in the
grass. A bird resting on a branch. The thing that scared Jacob the most,
though, was that he wanted to. He felt such an overwhelming erg to kill the
creatures. Just kill them. For no reason other than existing… But he fought the
erg, because he knew it was wrong. He tried so hard. It seemed like he was
always trying. Trying to hang on to something that seemed damned long ago.
So it didn’t surprise him, not in the slightest, when the corruption taunted
him further. He was lying in bed with Danny asleep and curled against his side,
naked skin on skin, when he felt the corruption well up inside him. His gaze
was tracking small movements in the far corner, the darkness of night flooding
the room. It would be difficult to see, but after lying awake in the darkness
for hours, his eyes had adjusted, and he could see clearly a spider shaping a
web. He watched, fascinated, as it dropped from a strand of web and brought it
over to connect to the other side of the wall, building its snare up in the
corner of the ceiling. Kill it… the corruption whispered. Jacob ignored it and
tried to turn away, but his gaze soon found its way back to the spider.
The spider was oblivious to the whole thing, continuing on its mission. Jacob
watched it, grinding his teeth against the urge to obey the corruption. Kill
it… No! He can’t! He won’t! Minutes passed and the spider finished its web,
settling in its center, waiting for prey to fall victim to its trap. Jacob was
sweating, then, with the physical effort it took to not simply end its life. It
was innocent, oblivious to the turmoil inside his heart. But nonetheless, the
corruption pushed. KILL IT!... It hissed in his ear, seemingly coming from
nowhere and everywhere around him, seeping into his mind. He could feel it
slithering around inside of him, nipping at his heels. KILL! And that was it,
Jacob crumbled.
It was such a disappointment, to resist for so long, to gather so much
strength, only to have it shatter in a moment. He lost his control, lost his
will to fight in a split second and without warning. There was no build up, no
epic battle of wills until only one was left standing. He merely…caved. He
could feel the shift of power, the way the corruption seemed to expand freely,
without hindrance. It had won, and strangely, Jacob didn’t feel resistance.
“Venire.” Jacob whispered into the night, extending a hand at the arachnoid.
The spider was plucked from its web and floated over to Jacob, stopping and
inch from his fingers. He watched as the spider struggled against his magical
hold, its legs squirming and writhing as it tried to escape. Then, with a blink
of his eyes, turning white as he activated his power, the spider was ignited.
It burned for only a few short moments, the fire hot and intense. Its legs were
spasmodic, but it took even less time before they stopped. Soon, it was nothing
but a tiny plume of ashes floating down against the blanket. Jacob would be
lying if he said he wasn’t sickened by what he had just done, but he would also
be lying if he said he didn’t find pleasure in it.
The corruption purred in approval and Jacob felt its tendrils snake further
into his being. He felt a charged surge in the air and his stomach dropped. He
locked eyes with the spirit of his grandpa…of the Wraith, both staring at each
other in silence. Jacob was afraid, but another part of him wasn’t, a stronger
part of him wasn’t. He wanted to scream and to banish the spirit, but that same
part of him was pleased of his presence. More time passed, his grandpa’s face a
mirthful guise all the while.
                                   (~O\/O~)
“Awww, come on, man, you’re not even trying!” Stiles whined as yet another M&M
bounced off Derek’s face. The werewolf was trying to concentrate on a book he
was reading, but Stiles was bored! He had taken up a position behind the sofa
and was bombarding Derek with the small, chocolate candies. Derek’s lips were
pressed thin, but it looked more like he was fighting away a smile than getting
irritated. “Ok, at least try this time. Catch it in your mouth. Ready?... go!”
Stiles threw another candy at him Derek turned to look at him and raise an
eyebrow, and the M&M bounced off his forehead.
“Derek! Come on!” Derek shook his head and returned to reading his book.
Alright, no more Mr. Nice Stiles! Stiles tipped the bag of candies and poured
himself a handful. “Barrage imminent!” he wailed, and tossed them all at Derek.
Derek turned his head again to see what Stiles was yelling about and all the
chocolate projectiles collided with his face. There was a long moment where
Derek was still stunned and Stiles was unsure of what to do, but when Derek’s
eyes narrowed, flashing a vibrant red, and he started to growl, Stiles new he
was screwed.
“Oh shit… Tactical retreat!!!” Stiles yelled, bolting for the stairs. Derek was
too fast, though, and Stiles barely made it halfway up before he grabbed his
leg and tripped him. Stiles’ body was dragged down and then hauled up as Derek
pressed him against the wall, pinning him there. Stiles mewled at their
proximity, the heat from Derek seeping into his skin. Derek’s face was inches
away from his.
“Stiles?” Derek said in an even and wily tone.
“Yes, Derek?”
“Stop. Throwing. Candy at me!” Although Derek was trying to put up a front of
‘badass fun-killer’, Stiles knew he was enjoying himself.
“I wasn’t throwing, them at you, I was throwing them to you. You just wouldn’t
catch them in your mouth!”
“You expected me to catch all those…in my mouth?...” Derek deadpanned.
“I—Well no, I… You weren’t being any fun!” Stiles stuck his tongue out at Derek
only to slip back in when Derek nipped at it. Derek leaned forward and nibbled
on Stiles bottom lip, coaxing a small moan from him.
“I can be fun…” Derek gripped Stiles hips and smashed their lips together,
forcing his tongue into Stiles mouth. Stiles moaned again and wrapped his arms
around Derek’s neck. Stiles didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feeling of
someone else’s tongue in his mouth, but he really didn’t care, just as long as
that tongue was Derek’s. The kiss soon became hotter and more passionate, and
when Derek slipped a hand down Stiles’ pants and grabbed his cock, he found it
difficult to stand. It was awkward, the way their bodies moved when Stiles
bucked up into Derek’s fist. Derek held his arm at a strange angle and was
unable to get a decent grip with Stiles’ pants still buttoned.
They continued like that for a while, Stiles bucking into Derek’s fist and
Derek holding his arm twisted and uncomfortable, before Stiles broke the kiss.
He brought his arms down from around Derek’s neck and worked on unbuttoning his
jeans. His shaky hands failed a few times, he but soon unlatched the button and
slid the zipper down. Stiles gasped and moaned out a ‘fuck’ when Derek took
advantage of the freedom to pump harder and faster at a much better angle.
“Derek, slow down or I’m gonna cum.” Stiles breathed, slumping against him and
resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder. “That’s the idea, Stiles.” Derek said,
equally breathy.
Stiles didn’t want to cum so soon, and he definitely didn’t want to do it
without Derek getting something out of it. He moved his hands and unbuttoned
Derek’s jeans, grabbing a hold of him and pumping him, matching his own speed.
Derek growled deep in his chest, and it didn’t take long before he was
breathing heavily with pleasure. The air was filled with pants, huffed praises,
and strained expletives. A twist of a hand pulling out a moan. An exposed neck
begging to have bites trailed up soft skin. The scratch of stubble against
cheeks. It wasn’t long before Stiles was close, and it became difficult to
match Derek’s speed. It wasn’t fair that the werewolf had so much more stamina
and could out-last him. Derek seemed to sense that Stiles was close and he
started to speed up, his pace becoming one that only a werewolf could achieve.
Stiles’ bones felt like they were turning to jelly, and he absolutely couldn’t
hold himself up while Derek was putting him through that amount of pleasure. He
abandoned Derek’s dick and wrapped his arms back around his neck, quite
literally hanging on for dear life while Derek pushed him further. He wouldn’t
last much longer, he could feel his orgasm building. Derek started to bite
along his neck with his elongated teeth, and that was it. Stiles dug his
fingers into Derek’s back as his orgasm ripped through him, cumming hard on
Derek’s hand and on their shirts.
Stiles hung on to Derek, his body no more useful than a wet noodle. He really
loved moments like this. He could never achieve such an amazing climax with
just himself and his hand. Not to say that Derek was just tool for his
pleasures—Stiles giggled, weakly, at the word ‘tool’—but he truly loved the way
Derek could take him places he never thought he could go. A few moments passed
as Stiles enjoyed the afterglow, Derek still biting at his neck, before he
realized that Derek was grinding against him, his dick still rock hard.
Stiles didn’t get him off, and it seemed like Derek really needed it. Derek
seemed to have pried his way into Stiles’ mind, because he was guiding Stiles’
hand back inside his pants. Stiles gripped his throbbing member, squeezing with
as much energy as he could muster. After his orgasm, though, he didn’t have
much. Derek growled, thrusting into Stiles’ fist and seeking the pleasure that
Stiles couldn’t give him. “Wait…” Stiles said. Derek looked at him with hooded
eyes, pupils blown wide. “What?...” He asked. He sounded distressed, not sure
why Stiles stopped. Stiles didn’t answer, just took his hand out of Derek’s
pants and gripped his biceps, turning them so Derek’s back was against the
wall. “What are you doing?” Derek asked. Stiles still didn’t answer, just
slowly sank to his knees in front of Derek, his head level right his Derek’s
crotch. Derek watched him with fascination as Stiles pulled down his pants and
boxers a little more, letting his dick free.
Stiles’ had seen Derek’s cock before, but somehow it seemed a little larger and
more intimidating when it was in his face. At the same time, though, that
wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. For some reason Stiles became fascinated with
the small twitches it would give, and he was locked into a trance. Derek must
have gotten impatient, though, because it was broken when he ran his fingers
over Stiles’ cheek. Stiles looked up at him. Derek was panting and sweating,
looking altogether wrecked with anticipation. But there was something else in
his expression, in his eyes and in the way his jaw flared when he clenched his
teeth. Hesitance. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” Derek panted, his voice a
hard grit. Stiles nodded and took Derek’s cock in hand.
He wasn’t exactly sure where to start, so he tentatively flicked his tongue
over the tip. Derek sucked in a gasp which encouraged Stiles to lick it again.
Well this was…different. Derek growled when Stiles—apparently—stopped and just
stared at his dick, which just urged him on even more. He took the tip—which
felt much larger in his mouth than he expected—into his mouth and suckled it.
Derek grunted and thrust his hips forward, but only slightly. It started Stiles
a little, but he kept going on, taking more of Derek into his mouth. After a
while of just sucking and listening to Derek moans, Stiles decided that giving
a blowjob wasn’t exactly as bad as he thought it would be. In fact, it was kind
of nice. Especially the satisfaction he felt at being able to make Derek
squirm.
Stiles became more adventurous, swirling his tongue around the organ and
licking up its base. He paid special attention to the underside of the head
when Derek practically barked with pleasure. Ha…barked… He licked the underside
of the head with a flat tongue for a while before he started teasing Derek with
the tip. Derek’s fingers found their way into his hair and started tugging. It
was a little painful, but Stiles wasn’t afraid to admit he kind of liked it.
When he continued teasing Derek, however, the werewolf must have gotten
impatient, because Stiles soon found his head being pulled forward, Derek
thrusting into his mouth. Stiles gagged a little when Derek pushed a little
deeper than was comfortable for him. “Fuck!” Derek cursed. Stiles didn’t like
him being so rough with him. Well…that was a lie. He didn’t really mind it at
all. What he did mind, though, was Derek being so rough when it was Stiles
first time. Stiles wanted to be the one controlling the pace.
He swatted Derek’s hands away and pulled off of him, looking up at him with a
stern face. “Derek, let me. Please?” Derek eyes widened a little. “I’m sorry.”
He said. Stiles flashed him a smile to let him know it was all right and then
just jumped back in. He took Derek back in his mouth and started bobbing his
head, combining the movement with swirls of his tongue. Derek seemed to be
enjoying it, if the string of curses he was moaning was any indication. Derek’s
fingers started tugging at his hair again. Stiles looked up at him, silently
pleading for him to control himself. He really didn’t have to worry, though, as
Derek was usually pretty good about forcing himself to stay in control. After
that, Stiles started to get into a rhythm. Bob, bob, bob. Pause. Suck the tip.
Repeat. He wasn’t brave enough to try deep throating, though. He’d save that
for another time.
Derek had to remind him a few times about his teeth, making Stiles a little
embarrassed. As much as he wished he could be some sort of prodigy at giving
head, he knew that was a little unrealistic. Derek took up thrusting his hips
again, even though it looked like he was practically killing himself in an
effort not to. It didn’t really matter much, because Stiles started to get used
to the action, so he just let him. He didn’t know exactly how long they were at
it, but soon Derek was tugging harder at his hair and his breaths were becoming
heavy. “Stiles, I’m about to cum!” he warned.
This was it, the moment of truth. Stiles had read that it was “enjoyable” for
the receiving party if the ‘giver’ was to let him cum in his mouth. He was
ready. “Stiles…” Derek warned again, trying to pull him off, but Stiles was
having none of that. Eventually—meaning after about a second—Derek gave up, and
with a roar—an actual legitimate roar—he came in Stiles’ mouth. It was safe to
say that it was not what Stiles had been expecting. Actually, he really didn’t
know what he had been expecting. The taste wasn’t actually that bad, really,
but the feel… He was so completely unprepared for the viscosity of it. He
gagged a little, and that just made it worse, leading to him heaving. “Stiles,
are you okay?” Derek asked, tucking himself back in his boxers and zipping his
pants up. He knelt down next to Stiles who was nodding his head frantically,
trying to convince him he was. He failed.
“Stiles, you don’t have…” Derek paused, rubbing a thumb over the back of
Stiles’ hand, “You don’t have to swallow. Go spit it out.” Stiles had his nose
crinkled up, looking around the room, desperately, like something would help.
Yes. Spit. Spitting was good. They both rose to their feet and Stiles ran for
the sink in the kitchen, spitting with less grace than he had hoped. He turned
on the sink and washed down the glob that came from his mouth, leaning down to
gargle and rinse with some water. Derek came up behind him and wrapped his arms
around him, pulling his back against his chest and resting his head on his
shoulder. “Was it really that bad?...” Derek asked timidly. Stiles chuckled at
that. “No, it wasn’t bad. I just…it felt weird.” Derek kissed his neck.
“Hopefully it wasn’t too yucky.” He said. Stiles blinked in shock.
“Yucky?... Did that word really just pass your lips?” Stiles asked in
disbelief. Stiles couldn’t see Derek’s face, but he felt the smile against his
skin. Damn, he loved Derek.
Stiles paused. Love? Did he really love Derek? He thought about it for a while.
There was evidence. The way his heart fluttered when Derek kissed him. The way
it ached to be apart from him on the few occasions his father wanted to spend
quality time. The way he couldn’t imagine life without him anymore. It was a
scary thought, even though he knew it shouldn’t be. Stiles was rigid and he
felt clumsy around the man that was planting kisses up his neck. He knew it was
silly to feel awkward when Derek had no idea what he was thinking, but he did
any way. Derek seemed to sense his discomfort. “Are you alright, Stiles?”
Stiles’ heart was thundering in his chest, which he knew Derek could hear.
“Derek. I think… I think I—” Stiles stopped and cleared his throat. No, he
couldn’t. Not yet. He just…couldn’t. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He turned around in
Derek’s arms and attempted a reassuring smile. Derek eyed him suspiciously, but
dropped it anyway. Stiles kissed him, a quick peck on the lips, and then
glanced over at the time. It was late, almost midnight. “C’mon, let’s go to
bed.” He led Derek upstairs by the hand, the thought of love still rolling
around in his head.
                                   (~O\/O~)
Deaton closed the glass cabinet with a click after putting away the last of his
supplies. He had been working late—very late—into the night, and he was glad
that he could finally go home and rest. He gathered his things and pulled on
his coat, shutting off the main lights in the clinic, leaving the room dim and
full of shadows, when he heard the jingle of the front door-bell. He froze, not
so much in fear, just out of instinct. Now that was strange, he was sure he had
locked the front door. Who could that be at this hour, anyway? Maybe Scott?
Derek? Deaton sighed and turned to wait for the ‘intruder’ to come into the
back. If it was some kind of robbery, he knew he could handle it with ease, but
he was certain it wasn’t.
Deaton stared at the doorway that led to the front lobby for a long while
before a figure came into the light from the darkness. A tall woman with
flowing golden hair stood in front of him. She was young and beautiful with
fair, pale skin and flashing ice-blue eyes. To say he was shocked would be an
understatement. He knew her. An old friend. A very…old friend. Although they
kept in touch, he hadn’t seen her in person for years. Many, many years…
Strange. What was she doing here? And why was she…like this?
“Pamela?” He asked, even though he knew it was her, “What are you doing here?
Why are you?...” He trailed of, gesturing his hand up and down at her. She
finished his sentence.
“Like this? We haven’t seen each other in so long, I wasn’t sure you’d
recognize me in my older form.” She flashed him a smile of perfect white teeth,
and he couldn’t help but return one of his own. It faded, though, when the
tension in the room picked up.
“Forgive me if I sound rude, but why exactly are you here?” It was nice to see
an old friend, but he knew that with her arrival, there was bad news. It was
only confirmed when her smile faded as well.
“Something’s wrong, Alan. There was a change in the Spirit Plane tonight. A
shift.” Deaton’s brow furrowed.
“A shift? I didn’t feel anything.” He said.
“You and I both know that I possess more of an aptitude for the Plane than you.
I am a Valkyrie after all. It’s my business.” They both kept their distance,
neither one approaching the other. Whether it was a comfortable distance or an
awkward one… Deaton wasn’t sure.
“What is happening?”
“I don’t know for sure.” Pamela said, “But I can feel it. Something is forcing
its way from the Depths. Something evil…”
“Impossible. We have precautions, wards and rules, to prevent that from
happening. There is no way—” Deaton was interrupted by a deep voice from an
unseen source. “Alan.” It said. Deaton’s focus turned to the blackness of the
doorway as a figure stepped through. He wore a long, black trench-coat coat and
a black fedora hat with a red band around it. His hands and face were wrapped
in ribbons of white cloth, resembling a mummy. He was completely covered from
head to toe. Everything but his mouth and his eyes, which, when he removed the
sunglasses he had been wearing—even though it was night out—revealed almost
luminescent light-violet eyes. His right hand flipped a coin and he examined
its face with a sigh.
“Burt?” Deaton asked. It was truly a surprise to see him! He very rarely
ventured out into public, even in the old days. He gave Deaton no answer, but
he wasn’t really expecting one. Burt continued.
“You should listen to her.” He said, “There’s been a shift in luck as well. A
shift in Fate. Something is seriously wrong here.” Deaton sighed. This was just
what they needed. The Hale pack was fragile right now, fighting the Tengu. He
wasn’t sure if they could handle another threat. A greater threat. Whatever was
out there, it must be extremely bad if it had Pamela and Burt spooked. The two
guests made their way inside and sat down on some chairs. Deaton removed his
coat and made his way over to the coffee-maker.
It was going to be a longer night than he expected.
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry I havn't updated in a while. I'm gettng back to it. If you like
     my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
End Notes
     Bear with me, I'm new to Ao3. This was originally posted on
     FanFiction.net (pen name: Monk of the North) , but I thought I'd try
     my hand here. If you like my writing, tell me you're a Monkie!
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