Playing with Wolf-ish People 1/1
Playing with Wolf-ish People
Rating:~pg
Pairing:Derek/Stiles
Wordcount: 5457
Summary:In which Stiles makes decisions for himself and he and Derek have common ground. The fantasy genre also gains appreciation.
A/N:Takes place after the events of the finale. Completely unbeta’d and bound to have mistakes.
Not three hours after Jackson’s transformation, Scott rushes at and starts yelling obscenely loud at Derek’s doorstep.
“Go ahead and change into a big hairy monster. Try to scare me.”
Derek remained unnervingly in human form. “He wanted to be changed. I need a pack. And like it or not there is safety in numbers. Scott.” He tilted his head down and red skimmed the surface of his eyes, “you should join my pack.”
“What so I can be your, pet or whatever?”
“It wouldn’t be my preference to make you the bitch.” The way Derek seemed to say that more to himself than to Scott almost had him crossing his arms over his body self consciously. But body language was everything here and he was barely managing his offensive shoulders as it was.
“Look whatever, I’m not joining your stupid clique, okay? I have a life, and friends.”
“Your girlfriend.” Derek said ‘girlfriend’ in the same dry tone he’d use to criticize wallpaper.
“Yes, but I have to worry about her family too. And Stiles,”
“Stiles would be protected in the pack.” Derek cut in swiftly and firmly.
Scott processed this sentence and his mouth hung open for most of the thought processing. “You’re not changing him.” He fisted his hands to indicate seriousness. Derek didn’t even look.
“He doesn’t have to be changed to be in the pack.” The word ‘idiot’ was left hanging and unsaid. “There were humans in my family’s pack too.”
“Yeah and they burned alive, remember?”
Derek’s eyes turned red.
~
“You told him that?” Stiles jumped and swerved dangerously in his computer chair before standing and expanding his arms wide around his head.
“Obviously.” Scott hissed as he applied the rubbing alcohol Stiles gave him to the wound on his shoulder.
“Well now you know you can’t take him at least. Derek Hale is as good as immortal. Shit. Why would you say that?” Stiles’ incredulity could only be communicated by tone pitch. Or at least that’s what he believed.
“He was talking about,” he moaned as a particularly large piece of glass had to be removed from his side. “joining his pack.”
“Which you said no to.”
“Of course.” He placed the glass on the bed and noticed Stiles wince at the blood stain on the brown sheet. He’d apologize later. “But then he talked about you being protected by the pack too.”
“Me? What? I” Stiles stuttered repeatedly before settling on, “I don’t want to be a werewolf.” His voice wavered but he thought his conviction came off firm. It didn’t matter because Scott was still busy dislodging glass from his side wound.
“No, he said you’d be protected by pack as a human, I don’t know, man. But Allison’s family is totally out to get me right now,” Stiles tuned out the rest as he reached for the towel to start picking up bloody glass off his bed.
When Scott was done talking about Allison, or rather when Stiles saw a paragraph ending, he jumped in.
“Derek hates me. Why would he want to include me?”
“Probably to get to me. I mean Allison would be”
Stiles groaned and threw the glass out.
~
“You’re afraid of me.” Derek wasn’t wearing a shirt and he was looming ominously over Stiles. The red eyes weren’t helping Stiles contradict him.
“The death threats don’t help. Same for the glowing eyes. The fact that I saw you claw someone’s throat out. Oh yeah, and the death threats.” His voice was jumpy but it kept going like a three year old’s erratic but constant stream of urine in the middle of a disney store.
Rewind to five minutes ago, and it was just Stiles walking up the stairs after seeing Scott drive off with Allison, and then walking into his room to see Derek with his face planted in his sheets.
“My room is the new werewolf hangout apparently. Great.”
Derek’s eyes snapped to his and a few movements later here they were.
“I thought Scott would be here. I smelled his blood.”
“That would be you leaving him hard to heal ‘alpha’ wounds”, Stiles used air quotes around the word Alpha maybe to convince himself it might not actually mean anything, “and then he bled all over my bed. End of story big guy.”
Derek sniffed him. “And do I smell like Scott’s blood too or do I just smell good to wolf people now? Should I bottle it? Market it maybe?”
Derek had the permanent look of annoyance he usually wore around Stiles. He turned away and paced around his room without saying anything.
Anything.
It drove Stiles crazy.
“Scott still wants to find a cure you know. That’s why he doesn’t want to join.”
Derek flashed him a glance and then continued walking around, looking at some of Stiles’ books and then finally stopped in front of the window.
“You’d be included in the pack too. He told you?”
“He may have mentioned it.” And his voice pitching was not planned.
To his credit, Derek never seemed to call him out on his shitty betraying vocal chords. Which made the guy almost likable.
“You wouldn’t be turned.”
“He thinks it’s a way to get to him.”
Derek snorted. Then he looked seriously at Stiles when Stiles wasn’t laughing along. Like there was a joke to get.
“Scott is a puppy.” He put on the face one might adopt when talking to a three year old about why it was wrong to pee in stores. Like he was worried Stiles wouldn’t believe him.
“And you think Jackson…”
“They’re all young yeah.” Derek rolled his eyes dismissively. “But if I can train them, I can make them smarter, stronger, better wolves than they’d make alone. A pack is stronger together. That night with the old alpha proved that.”
“I’m not exactly a hairy super powered half beast with the ability to become a raging psychopath once a month.”
“Being in a pack is about more than fighting. Your friend Scott doesn’t understand. You should make him.”
“Why?” Stiles would not say he could hear his own heart beat, and that if he could hear it Derek was definitely listening in. He didn’t want to think about whatever Derek was thinking about it. He was nervous. That’s why it was doing that thing. The speed up thing.
“Because you want to be part of the pack.”
--
“And then he was gone? Just like that?”
“Yes, Lydia, just like that. I mean I had to see him crouch down and jump from the window, but same basic principles.”
“How Buffy.” She sighed and looked past stiles into the blue skies and whatever else she thought she saw in their fifth period math class.
“Yeah, sure, except he’s no angel and I’m not a super warrior chosen by destiny no matter how awesome that would be.” Sometimes he used to get giddy about thinking how awesome that would be. It was a feeling mutually shared on the rpg message boards he was a part of two years ago.
Lydia didn’t seem to hear him.
“So romantic.”
“Hey, whoa, no romance.” He jerked in his seat. “Stop thinking. Hey.” He snapped fingers in front of her face to literally snap her out of her train of thought.
She glanced at him and her jaw clenched subtly.
Stiles sighed. “By the way, how’s the… bite?” he lowered his voice. Yes they were supposed to be working on fixing their mistakes from the last quiz, but Lydia had fixed Stiles’ one error and now they had thirty minutes to spare.
She jumped. “Fine, it’s fine. Healing. No problems.” She smiled and then beamed and then scowled. “And Jackson could care less. I’m so over him.”
She said it in a convincing tone that meant she wasn’t.
Stiles ignored that tone.
“So do you want to grab a bite to eat later, maybe? Afterschool?”
“Can’t.”
“Right, yeah of course.” Stiles didn’t question it further.
~
“What are your plans for Friday?” Lydia entwined her arm with Allison’s and Stiles’ ear trailed behind them.
Allison gave her a hesitant look before smiling and starting her sentence with a very predictable name that began with S and rhymed with squat.
Lydia cut her off. “Let’s have a Buffy marathon. You, me, some Chinese.”
“But-“
“Allison, I’ve had this injury on my side for the past six weeks and it is really crippling my social life and it hurts and I can’t dance so please have a Buffy marathon with me and I will do something very nice for you in return one day.”
Allison seemed to understand what she thought was really happening but she didn’t say anything, just gave Lydia a sympathetic nod and said she’d bring popcorn.
Lydia, for her part, really was just in the mood to watch Buffy.
“I like Buffy.” Stiles’ voice died and he wondered what would happen if he revealed to Lydia his secret rpg message board history. Not that he did it anymore.
“She’d probably think I was a geek.” He said outloud.
“You are a geek.” Jackson passed him by and tossed the sentence out like it was a simple truth.
Stiles watched him walk down the hall and almost wondered if he should ask how training as Derek’s bitch was going.
-
“What makes you think I’d want to be part of any pack that had Jackson in it and,” he started gagging emphatically, “oh god what is that smell?”
He’d found Derek on Derek’s own property, in a hole. Predictably wearing no shirt.
“Trying to get running water in my home. Do you mind?” He held up a wrench and Stiles snapped to and took it from his hand, placing it in the toolbox.
“Why don’t you have your little pack partner doing this huh? Isn’t that the whole point of being an alpha to a back? Have others do your dirty work?”
“They’re busy. Pass me the Phillips head.”
Stiles did. Derek looked at it with mild surprise before using it.
“What, out to go bully people? He does that enough.” Stiles did a quick mental rewind. “What do you mean they?” His question got a horrifying answer when another voice spoke
“Okay Derek, we got your stupid firewood or whatever. Can we go home now?”
Stiles turned around and he was gaping at the very obvious image of Lydia and Jackson holding up pieces of wood and very clearly there for Derek. And then it was very clear that Lydia had no bite scars anymore. Probably no injuries for a while.
“Shit.”
Jackson frowned but didn’t say anything, just looked at where Derek was in the ground.
Derek jumped out and observed the wood in their arms. He nodded. “Put it near the fireplace, do five laps around the property and then you can go home.”
“Yes sir.” Lydia smiled facetiously at him, turning to give a tight smile directed at Stiles. Jackson’s frown just deepened but he followed Lydia.
Derek watched them walk indoors and narrowed his eyes.
“You make them do laps? What is this, training for the Olympics?”
“Exercise releases tension and stress. It helps relieve aggression. It helps them keep control. Something Scott barely has at the best of times. Something he’s dependent on Allison for.” His sentence morphed into a sneering snarl and Stiles felt the need to cut in.
“Hey, hey, human me. No need to wolf out now. Hi. Hello.” Derek looked down at him and Stiles felt his stomach jump. He pushed that down.
“You still haven’t talked to him.”
“You haven’t given me much of a reason to. Except your ominous mister scary guy “You want this” dramatic statement. Real humans, not people raised by wolves but real humans rely on words to communicate.”
Derek seemed unconvinced.
He placed a hand on Stile’s shoulder, and slid his palm up to the curve juncture of his neck. Stiles froze and tensed, but Derek didn’t move, just kept his hand still. The grip wasn’t strong, there wasn’t really a grip. His face was blank but looking straight at Stiles’ face. The hand was warm and it made the skin around the back of his neck tingle a little. Stiles measured his breaths out, at first too afraid to speak but now feeling no need to, just the desire to fall asleep surrounded by that warmth somewhere.
Derek’s lips hinted at a smirk. Stiles had a very good view of them.
The hand moved away and Stiles felt very cold.
“Body language is everywhere, Stiles. Humans too. I know you wouldn’t join without Scott. You’re loyal. I wouldn’t want you in the pack if you weren’t.”
Stiles would have jumped on that statement in an instant, if he weren’t still trying to remember the warm feeling and if they hadn’t both just heard a crack in the distance. They both looked over to see a tree falling slowly, and another looking to follow.
Derek pinched the bridge of his nose then walked past Stiles, hand touching his shoulder like a goodbye.
“Puppies.” He was muttering before he started running off.
~
Next time Stiles saw Derek, he thought he was alone in the locker room. Then he looked around the corner and saw Not one but two of his friends-PEOPLE HE ASSOCIATED WITH BUT NOT ALWAYS ON FRIENDLY TERMS-baring their wolf-y fangs at each other.
Scott and Jackson were “up in each other’s grills” and growling. Stiles almost wished he had a windex bottle to spray them with. He made it a note to self to start carrying some around. This was actually a very common incident after practice so Stiles wasn’t too bothered except it took them fifteen extra minutes to leave what with all the posturing they did and then Stiles missed his chance to catch Lydia before she left to her other afterschool activities-which he now knew were pack practice sessions with Derek- and which also meant that he’d miss his chance to catch her today and try to convince her he’d be down for a Buffy marathon with her and Allison this Friday.
But nope, Scott and Jackson were too busy.
Until out of nowhere, Derek showed up and started growling until Jackson was growling back. A lot of nonverbal shit went down and Stiles figured it was almost like watching a foreign cartoon, until Jackson finally backed down with his shoulders hunched and walked out with a little less pep in his step.
But then Derek turned his glare back to Scott and his eyes were red and, oh shit Stiles thought, Scott’s eyes were yellow.
“Guys, we need to leave before they lock us in here.”
Scott narrowed his eyes and fuck it, Stiles was never going to see Lydia this afternoon.
But Derek straightened up and his eyes turned less red.
“There’s no cure Scott. So shut up and let me help you.”
“What, so you could boss me around?”
“A pack is a family, Scott. We help each other.”
“I have a family and I don’t need to make one up like you.”
Stiles was familiar with this argument, recognized it by the particular pitch in Scott’s voice. It’s the kind of argument that ended with Scott storming off and then running somewhere to be alone and/or with Allison.
However, before Scott could storm off, he got slammed face first into the lockers-hard enough that Stiles could now see where the lockers were dented.
Everything was dead silent as Derek hovered over Scott’s neck. Technically, if Derek killed anyone he was open game for the Argents. This meant that hypothetically, he wouldn’t kill anyone. The hypothesis never took Scott into account.
Derek was breathing very heavily over the space of Scott’s neck.
When he spoke, it was in a low and measured tone. “I am done with your callous bullshit. I don’t need you. The pack doesn’t need you. I am only trying to help you.” He let each word hang, putting space between them to let them sink in. He breathed in. “But do not make an enemy of the pack. And no, this is not a threat, you sixteen year old child. I am helping Jackson, and Lydia as best as I can so do not screw around with them while they’re new. I’m not going to ask you again. There is an open invitation you can individually consider for yourself, even though that would require your brain to function at a higher level than it’s used to.”
Scott turned viciously and Derek stepped back and bared his teeth in exactly the same way.
After circling each other for another five minutes, it was clear neither were going to make a definitive move. Derek straightened up. “Just something for you to consider. Stiles too.” And then he walked out, and Scott was punching the locker and angrily packing his things up.
When Stiles got home, his father was passed out on the couch. A photoalbum laid open on his lap. Wedding pictures of his mom.
Stiles swallowed back the burn in his throat and climbed the stairs.
No one was there, which was nice. He shut the window, but didn’t lock it, and fell asleep, dreaming into a wet pillow.
~
When he woke up, it was 3 am and he was really warm. His window was open. He fell back asleep and fell further into the warmness.
At three thirty he realized someone was loosely spooning him and they were much bigger than Scott. He was still half asleep and his survival instinct probably wouldn’t kick in for another fifteen minutes.
“Derek or Jackson.”
“You do smell nice.” Derek mumbled. He wasn’t pressed against stiles or anything. He had an arm thrown over him and his body had kind of curved to accommodate his but his face was a good few inches away. Stiles could tell by how close he felt the warm breath on his neck.
“Scott doesn’t get what it’s really like to lose someone you loved.” He said as way of apology, because he fell asleep thinking about his mother and there was a left over sense that he had been dreaming about her and it still hurt to think about it.
Derek didn’t say anything but Stiles felt like he understood.
“Not used to being taken advantage of in the middle of the night.” It was a joke he could only make when he was almost sure there was a dream going on, but why he’d be dreaming about Derek was beyond him. Or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t want to think too much about it.
“I don’t have a bed and sleeping on a rug isn’t as romantic as it used to be.”
“Can’t you sleep on Jackson’s bed? Or Lydias?” he said it easily but if he were more conscious he never would have mentioned Lydia. Right now though, they seemed very far away, and Derek was tangible. He initiated a move back and Derek let him further into the space of his arms.
“You smell nicer.”
“Well as long as we’re being logical.” Derek hummed close enough to the back of his head that Styles could feel the vibrations.
“You know, if you want to win me over, or my heart or whatever, it’s going to take more than just sneaking into my room and surprising me with cuddling.”
“Really.” Derek sounded amused.
“Yes. Really. Like no more death threats.”
“And what else?” he asked, his lips very close to Stiles’ skin.
“The usual you know, flowers, dating, movies.” Stiles wasn’t thinking but he liked the sound of his own voice at this point.
Derek snorted.
“Sure.”
“What?” something registered that this wasn’t normal behavior or that something wasn’t right.
“I’ve had girlfriends who didn’t sing to that tune, but if it’s your thing,” Stiles felt Derek give a lazy shrug behind him.
“I was kidding you know.”
“I’m not Scott.”
Somehow it very easily communicated that Derek meant to say “I know you weren’t being serious.”
“I’m supposed to hang out with Scott on Friday, but,” Derek stayed silent, “I’m actually more interested in doing things other than watching him try to control his anger for an afternoon.”
“You have good ideas, he just needs more focus.”
“Yeah, well don’t tell that to him.”
“What would you rather do?”
Stiles was conscious enough to mutter instead of clearly mumble his answer.
Derek had wolf hearing.
“A Buffy marathon?” Derek seemed to tense behind him even though he didn’t move. “Lydia is having one with Allison tomorrow.”
“Yeah I- how did you know.”
“Lydia told me.”
“What, so as pack members we have to tell you everything we’re doing?” Stiles valued privacy very much. The patriot act was bullshit and he was very vocal about it to his father.
Tension flooded out of the room and Derek adjusted himself just a centimeter closer to Stiles, his palm folded gently into the fabric of Stiles’ shirt.
“Well, anything to do with the Argents. The family that wants to kill us. Don’t you think that sounds reasonable?”
“Oh.”
“Lydia and Jackson are very opinionated about their relative independence. It makes things…difficult. But I’m not a tyrant Stiles. That’s not what an alpha is.”
“So what was that thing with Jackson and Scott in the locker room?”
“I think Jackson is going to be the first to challenge pack ranks.”
“What, he’s a beta and wannabe alpha? I see that.”
“Omega. Lydia is the second in command right now, she’s most capable of maintaining control and order.”
“Well that explains his more dickish than usual behavior at school.”
“Not that rank really matters in this case. We’re humans too.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve never seen Buffy before. My sister watched it when she was younger.”
“…oh?”
The air was still and Stiles waited for something. Derek was holding his breath.
“We should watch it. On Friday.”
“I don’t think Allison and Lydia…”
“Not with them.”
“Oh. Okay.” Stiles was 80% buffered and closer to realizing he was setting up a date.
“Like a date?” he asked awkwardly and regretted it immediately after. Derek passed the question by though.
“Maybe you can explain to me what my sister liked about it so much.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
~
Text message
To: Scott
From: Styles
Time:4:00
Can’t practice today, have a date. Yeah. Shut up stop grinning and just go study dog boy.
To: Stiles
From: Scott
Time:4:03
Dude! Who??? Allison is @ Lyd. watching buffy all night.
To:Scott
From:Stiles
Time:4:30
G2g, date’s here.
To:Stiles
From:Scott
Time:5:30
Do you have my gamestop card? I think I left it there when ordering the last Assasin’s creed
To:Stiles
From:Scott
Time:5:40
Omg dude your phone is off?
To:Stiles
From:Scott
Time: 5:42
Do I have to call your dad? Is he okay?
To:Stiles
From: Scott
Time:5:55
Your dad says you’re at home? I didn’t tell him about your date but getting so serious on a first one? WHO IS SHE??????!!!!
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:6:00
Or he.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:6:30
It’s not Danny is it?
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:6:45
I’d be cool with it if it was you know.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:7:00
Allison said Lydia took her phone and turned it off. She just took a bathroom break and was allowed to talk to me for ten minutes.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:7:10
I expect you to call me with details after the date.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:7:20
I’m coming over to get my game card, it’s definitely at your place. If I see anything through the window I swear I won’t interrupt.
~
“I hope you know there’s no such thing as vampires.”
“That’s what Scott said about werewolves.” Stiles went to change dvds to disc two. If they made it to the mid season finale he’d be happy.
“Whatever.” Derek moved and situated himself more comfortably on the couch. Stiles had demanded his jacket as a condition of entry, so he was left to move around in a faded gray shirt. His arms covered the entire corner of the couch and he was half laying down on it. Stiles wondered if it was an alpha’s need to dominate space.
Stiles sat down neutrally in the middle, though Derek’s side seemed to be trying to draw him in. “Lydia compared you to Angel.”
“Really.”
“I don’t know why I just told you that.”
Derek leaned forward in a small movement. He brushed his fingers lightly up and down the hair on the back of Stiles’ neck. Petting him? Stiles shoved the definition down and liked the warm sparks he felt.
“I guess it’s the tall dark and handsome thing. And the brooding. Appearing in people’s rooms while they sleep. Inability to use doors.”
“I can use doors.” Derek’s voice was quiet and nice to listen to.
Stiles thought he should speak more.
But then they didn’t speak at all and that was much better.
~
~
Nothing matches the mood killer of a cold shower as much as when the guy you might be attracted to and is really teaching you the definition of a French kiss and is lying on top of you suddenly whispers your best friend’s name into your mouth.
Thirty seconds later and his room was full of half wolfed out growling faces. One of his best friend and the other of his… something else.
Instinct said run.
Panic said run.
Mouth didn’t have much of a drive but talk.
“Scott.” He yelled.
“Leave him alone.” Scott wasn’t even paying attention to him.
“I’m right here and I don’t need my battles fought. Scott, look, yes, look at me. Me. Right. We were watching Buffy. I’m attracted to him yes. I don’t know, he looks good and it makes me uncomfortable in areas to think about it. Stop that, stop- Scott.”
“Why didn’t you pick up the phone?” Scott was angry at him. About not being able to reach him.
“Wow, ironic. I told you I was on a date. I turned off my phone so I wouldn’t get any interruptions, and, “ Stiles pulled out his phone, “oh look. 32 messages. From you.”
“It’s Derek, man. I thought you hated him?”
“Don’t you think this is a conversation that can be left for another time? Hm?”
“How can you even trust him?”
Stiles rubbed at his eyebrows. “Another conversation, Scott. I mean, we were just watching Buffy. Things happened.” He made gestures to express things ‘happening’.
Scott tried to move towards his position behind the couch but as soon as he advanced Derek started growling and moved more offensively without moving at all. Scott growled back but stayed where he was.
“Both of you stop pissing everywhere, okay. Scott, I will talk to you later I swear. But seriously, go home and think about shit, if you are this bored,” he held up his phone with the 32 text messages, one he had skimmed through said something about a lint roller and pubic hair, “when you don’t have me or Allison to hang out with.”
“You,” he directed his pointed finger at Derek, and figured if this was going anywhere he wasn’t going to go down as someone’s bitch, “put the fangs away and sit your ass back down because we are getting to the finale tonight.”
Slowly, the red left Derek’s eyes and the fangs changed back to normal teeth.
Scott followed. He flashed one last look of anger at Stiles before walking out and slamming the door behind him.
The room was silent. Stiles turned to Derek, who waited, sniffed the air, and when satisfied, looked at Stiles.
“He handled that pretty well, all things considered. Glad I don’t have any broken furniture to show for it. Awkward reveal, bad timing, but not that bad.”
Derek walked toward him and there was something playful in his posture.
Stiles felt brave, grabbed his grey shirt at the center and tugged him the rest of the way. Derek leant down compliantly into the kiss. It was kind of sweet and the kind of kiss that made Stile’s stomach jump and his heart flutter in what he imagined as a very cartoonish occurrence. It made his head feel half baked when he pulled back.
But he steered them back to the mission.
“Buffy, play button. Press the play button.”
He sat down on the couch with his legs crossed and leaning comfortably into Derek’s side. Derek pressed play. His dad wouldn’t get in until 5am and Derek was warm and Joss Whedon dialogue was always entertaining.
~
Scott doesn’t join the pack on Saturday, but Stiles does.
He doesn’t get much of a difference in treatment. Jackson sniffed him once and rolled his eyes. Lydia winked. Derek tells them to run two laps but at least he runs with them. Stiles isn’t powered up enough to keep up but it’s only two laps and Derek doesn’t expect anything out of it. The rest of the day until noon is Derek testing their anger and Stiles monitoring it on his phone. There’s a brief skirmish with Jackson that ends in Derek full on wolfing out and biting the back of Jackson’s neck.
Derek sends them home and keeps Stiles behind.
Sleeping on rugs isn’t romantic, but making out on them is something new.
Making out in the house where your entire boyfriend’s family died is a little macabre, but Stiles thinks that’s just where his life is right now.
~
Stiles tries calling Scott on Sunday but Scott never picks up.
He goes back to Derek’s, and Lydia and Jackson are wolfed out and fighting.
“It’s just practice. I got cable installed.”
After Lydia takes a shower, and Jackson and Derek talk heatedly in the kitchen, the pizza Stiles ordered in secret arrives and they watch news for any animal attacks, but Jackson convinces them to change it to channel 2, where they’re playing ‘Werewolf’, a notoriously bad b-horror film.
He checks his phone every five minutes until Derek starts rubbing at the back of his head.
~
Derek calls him but he thought it was Scott. Scott hadn’t been at school.
“Be over as soon as you can.”
He’s not sure what it means.
“What happened to him?” He should probably be freaking out at the sight of his best friend’s body unconscious on his something’s couch. Possibly dead. Oh wait no he was breathing.
Derek held up a small metal thing. “Tranquilizer. Apparently Scott wolfed out on Allison and one of the Argents was there to put him to sleep. Pretty heavy if he was knocked out this long. They just dropped him off.”
“Dropped him off like…”
Derek gave him a significant look.
Dropped off like literally dropped him.
“I’ll…take him home.”
“No. has to be now. The Argents are holding me responsible for his bullshit and, like it or not, the wolves of this town have to stick together and get rid of any who won’t join.”
Under the condition that he could still look for a cure and assurance from Stiles that Derek wasn’t a tyrant, Scott grudgingly accepted he needed some help if he ever wanted to have sex with Allison.
If someone were to psycho-analyze Derek, they might say he liked Stiles because he always spoke his thoughts, wanted to or not, he was completely unguarded. Maybe the noise was at first grating, but it was much more welcome to the silent manipulation of Kate Argent.
But no one will ever get him on a couch to analyze him, unless it’s Stiles under the right conditions, and he doesn’t think about Kate. Except for when he does, but Stiles is usually there to help him forget with a Buffy marathon or questions about what they’re going to do for lunch or when he needs a random part for his car that Derek knows how to put in.
By the following Sunday they’re watching Lord of the Rings.
“I can’t believe you’ve been deprived of the fantasy genre all your life.”
“It’s different when you kind of live in it.”
“Yeah but this is all the shit you love basically, misplaced. World war two, the evil eastern Nazis! The honorable west. That stuff.”
“That’s it. We’re watching Casablanca later.”
“Casablanca? A chickflick?”
“If you’ve ever seen Casablanca you’ll know that’s not all it’s about.”
“Guys, shut up, you’re ruining Galadriel’s intro.” Lydia and Stiles apparently benched for the same genre.
Jackson and Stiles looked mildly uncomfortable sitting next to each other and the situation in general. But at a certain point in the film they got very into the war sequences.
~
Casablanca was better than Stiles expected. And Derek appreciated Stiles’ appreciation very emphatically. With his mouth.
Rating:~pg
Pairing:Derek/Stiles
Wordcount: 5457
Summary:In which Stiles makes decisions for himself and he and Derek have common ground. The fantasy genre also gains appreciation.
A/N:Takes place after the events of the finale. Completely unbeta’d and bound to have mistakes.
Not three hours after Jackson’s transformation, Scott rushes at and starts yelling obscenely loud at Derek’s doorstep.
“Go ahead and change into a big hairy monster. Try to scare me.”
Derek remained unnervingly in human form. “He wanted to be changed. I need a pack. And like it or not there is safety in numbers. Scott.” He tilted his head down and red skimmed the surface of his eyes, “you should join my pack.”
“What so I can be your, pet or whatever?”
“It wouldn’t be my preference to make you the bitch.” The way Derek seemed to say that more to himself than to Scott almost had him crossing his arms over his body self consciously. But body language was everything here and he was barely managing his offensive shoulders as it was.
“Look whatever, I’m not joining your stupid clique, okay? I have a life, and friends.”
“Your girlfriend.” Derek said ‘girlfriend’ in the same dry tone he’d use to criticize wallpaper.
“Yes, but I have to worry about her family too. And Stiles,”
“Stiles would be protected in the pack.” Derek cut in swiftly and firmly.
Scott processed this sentence and his mouth hung open for most of the thought processing. “You’re not changing him.” He fisted his hands to indicate seriousness. Derek didn’t even look.
“He doesn’t have to be changed to be in the pack.” The word ‘idiot’ was left hanging and unsaid. “There were humans in my family’s pack too.”
“Yeah and they burned alive, remember?”
Derek’s eyes turned red.
~
“You told him that?” Stiles jumped and swerved dangerously in his computer chair before standing and expanding his arms wide around his head.
“Obviously.” Scott hissed as he applied the rubbing alcohol Stiles gave him to the wound on his shoulder.
“Well now you know you can’t take him at least. Derek Hale is as good as immortal. Shit. Why would you say that?” Stiles’ incredulity could only be communicated by tone pitch. Or at least that’s what he believed.
“He was talking about,” he moaned as a particularly large piece of glass had to be removed from his side. “joining his pack.”
“Which you said no to.”
“Of course.” He placed the glass on the bed and noticed Stiles wince at the blood stain on the brown sheet. He’d apologize later. “But then he talked about you being protected by the pack too.”
“Me? What? I” Stiles stuttered repeatedly before settling on, “I don’t want to be a werewolf.” His voice wavered but he thought his conviction came off firm. It didn’t matter because Scott was still busy dislodging glass from his side wound.
“No, he said you’d be protected by pack as a human, I don’t know, man. But Allison’s family is totally out to get me right now,” Stiles tuned out the rest as he reached for the towel to start picking up bloody glass off his bed.
When Scott was done talking about Allison, or rather when Stiles saw a paragraph ending, he jumped in.
“Derek hates me. Why would he want to include me?”
“Probably to get to me. I mean Allison would be”
Stiles groaned and threw the glass out.
~
“You’re afraid of me.” Derek wasn’t wearing a shirt and he was looming ominously over Stiles. The red eyes weren’t helping Stiles contradict him.
“The death threats don’t help. Same for the glowing eyes. The fact that I saw you claw someone’s throat out. Oh yeah, and the death threats.” His voice was jumpy but it kept going like a three year old’s erratic but constant stream of urine in the middle of a disney store.
Rewind to five minutes ago, and it was just Stiles walking up the stairs after seeing Scott drive off with Allison, and then walking into his room to see Derek with his face planted in his sheets.
“My room is the new werewolf hangout apparently. Great.”
Derek’s eyes snapped to his and a few movements later here they were.
“I thought Scott would be here. I smelled his blood.”
“That would be you leaving him hard to heal ‘alpha’ wounds”, Stiles used air quotes around the word Alpha maybe to convince himself it might not actually mean anything, “and then he bled all over my bed. End of story big guy.”
Derek sniffed him. “And do I smell like Scott’s blood too or do I just smell good to wolf people now? Should I bottle it? Market it maybe?”
Derek had the permanent look of annoyance he usually wore around Stiles. He turned away and paced around his room without saying anything.
Anything.
It drove Stiles crazy.
“Scott still wants to find a cure you know. That’s why he doesn’t want to join.”
Derek flashed him a glance and then continued walking around, looking at some of Stiles’ books and then finally stopped in front of the window.
“You’d be included in the pack too. He told you?”
“He may have mentioned it.” And his voice pitching was not planned.
To his credit, Derek never seemed to call him out on his shitty betraying vocal chords. Which made the guy almost likable.
“You wouldn’t be turned.”
“He thinks it’s a way to get to him.”
Derek snorted. Then he looked seriously at Stiles when Stiles wasn’t laughing along. Like there was a joke to get.
“Scott is a puppy.” He put on the face one might adopt when talking to a three year old about why it was wrong to pee in stores. Like he was worried Stiles wouldn’t believe him.
“And you think Jackson…”
“They’re all young yeah.” Derek rolled his eyes dismissively. “But if I can train them, I can make them smarter, stronger, better wolves than they’d make alone. A pack is stronger together. That night with the old alpha proved that.”
“I’m not exactly a hairy super powered half beast with the ability to become a raging psychopath once a month.”
“Being in a pack is about more than fighting. Your friend Scott doesn’t understand. You should make him.”
“Why?” Stiles would not say he could hear his own heart beat, and that if he could hear it Derek was definitely listening in. He didn’t want to think about whatever Derek was thinking about it. He was nervous. That’s why it was doing that thing. The speed up thing.
“Because you want to be part of the pack.”
--
“And then he was gone? Just like that?”
“Yes, Lydia, just like that. I mean I had to see him crouch down and jump from the window, but same basic principles.”
“How Buffy.” She sighed and looked past stiles into the blue skies and whatever else she thought she saw in their fifth period math class.
“Yeah, sure, except he’s no angel and I’m not a super warrior chosen by destiny no matter how awesome that would be.” Sometimes he used to get giddy about thinking how awesome that would be. It was a feeling mutually shared on the rpg message boards he was a part of two years ago.
Lydia didn’t seem to hear him.
“So romantic.”
“Hey, whoa, no romance.” He jerked in his seat. “Stop thinking. Hey.” He snapped fingers in front of her face to literally snap her out of her train of thought.
She glanced at him and her jaw clenched subtly.
Stiles sighed. “By the way, how’s the… bite?” he lowered his voice. Yes they were supposed to be working on fixing their mistakes from the last quiz, but Lydia had fixed Stiles’ one error and now they had thirty minutes to spare.
She jumped. “Fine, it’s fine. Healing. No problems.” She smiled and then beamed and then scowled. “And Jackson could care less. I’m so over him.”
She said it in a convincing tone that meant she wasn’t.
Stiles ignored that tone.
“So do you want to grab a bite to eat later, maybe? Afterschool?”
“Can’t.”
“Right, yeah of course.” Stiles didn’t question it further.
~
“What are your plans for Friday?” Lydia entwined her arm with Allison’s and Stiles’ ear trailed behind them.
Allison gave her a hesitant look before smiling and starting her sentence with a very predictable name that began with S and rhymed with squat.
Lydia cut her off. “Let’s have a Buffy marathon. You, me, some Chinese.”
“But-“
“Allison, I’ve had this injury on my side for the past six weeks and it is really crippling my social life and it hurts and I can’t dance so please have a Buffy marathon with me and I will do something very nice for you in return one day.”
Allison seemed to understand what she thought was really happening but she didn’t say anything, just gave Lydia a sympathetic nod and said she’d bring popcorn.
Lydia, for her part, really was just in the mood to watch Buffy.
“I like Buffy.” Stiles’ voice died and he wondered what would happen if he revealed to Lydia his secret rpg message board history. Not that he did it anymore.
“She’d probably think I was a geek.” He said outloud.
“You are a geek.” Jackson passed him by and tossed the sentence out like it was a simple truth.
Stiles watched him walk down the hall and almost wondered if he should ask how training as Derek’s bitch was going.
-
“What makes you think I’d want to be part of any pack that had Jackson in it and,” he started gagging emphatically, “oh god what is that smell?”
He’d found Derek on Derek’s own property, in a hole. Predictably wearing no shirt.
“Trying to get running water in my home. Do you mind?” He held up a wrench and Stiles snapped to and took it from his hand, placing it in the toolbox.
“Why don’t you have your little pack partner doing this huh? Isn’t that the whole point of being an alpha to a back? Have others do your dirty work?”
“They’re busy. Pass me the Phillips head.”
Stiles did. Derek looked at it with mild surprise before using it.
“What, out to go bully people? He does that enough.” Stiles did a quick mental rewind. “What do you mean they?” His question got a horrifying answer when another voice spoke
“Okay Derek, we got your stupid firewood or whatever. Can we go home now?”
Stiles turned around and he was gaping at the very obvious image of Lydia and Jackson holding up pieces of wood and very clearly there for Derek. And then it was very clear that Lydia had no bite scars anymore. Probably no injuries for a while.
“Shit.”
Jackson frowned but didn’t say anything, just looked at where Derek was in the ground.
Derek jumped out and observed the wood in their arms. He nodded. “Put it near the fireplace, do five laps around the property and then you can go home.”
“Yes sir.” Lydia smiled facetiously at him, turning to give a tight smile directed at Stiles. Jackson’s frown just deepened but he followed Lydia.
Derek watched them walk indoors and narrowed his eyes.
“You make them do laps? What is this, training for the Olympics?”
“Exercise releases tension and stress. It helps relieve aggression. It helps them keep control. Something Scott barely has at the best of times. Something he’s dependent on Allison for.” His sentence morphed into a sneering snarl and Stiles felt the need to cut in.
“Hey, hey, human me. No need to wolf out now. Hi. Hello.” Derek looked down at him and Stiles felt his stomach jump. He pushed that down.
“You still haven’t talked to him.”
“You haven’t given me much of a reason to. Except your ominous mister scary guy “You want this” dramatic statement. Real humans, not people raised by wolves but real humans rely on words to communicate.”
Derek seemed unconvinced.
He placed a hand on Stile’s shoulder, and slid his palm up to the curve juncture of his neck. Stiles froze and tensed, but Derek didn’t move, just kept his hand still. The grip wasn’t strong, there wasn’t really a grip. His face was blank but looking straight at Stiles’ face. The hand was warm and it made the skin around the back of his neck tingle a little. Stiles measured his breaths out, at first too afraid to speak but now feeling no need to, just the desire to fall asleep surrounded by that warmth somewhere.
Derek’s lips hinted at a smirk. Stiles had a very good view of them.
The hand moved away and Stiles felt very cold.
“Body language is everywhere, Stiles. Humans too. I know you wouldn’t join without Scott. You’re loyal. I wouldn’t want you in the pack if you weren’t.”
Stiles would have jumped on that statement in an instant, if he weren’t still trying to remember the warm feeling and if they hadn’t both just heard a crack in the distance. They both looked over to see a tree falling slowly, and another looking to follow.
Derek pinched the bridge of his nose then walked past Stiles, hand touching his shoulder like a goodbye.
“Puppies.” He was muttering before he started running off.
~
Next time Stiles saw Derek, he thought he was alone in the locker room. Then he looked around the corner and saw Not one but two of his friends-PEOPLE HE ASSOCIATED WITH BUT NOT ALWAYS ON FRIENDLY TERMS-baring their wolf-y fangs at each other.
Scott and Jackson were “up in each other’s grills” and growling. Stiles almost wished he had a windex bottle to spray them with. He made it a note to self to start carrying some around. This was actually a very common incident after practice so Stiles wasn’t too bothered except it took them fifteen extra minutes to leave what with all the posturing they did and then Stiles missed his chance to catch Lydia before she left to her other afterschool activities-which he now knew were pack practice sessions with Derek- and which also meant that he’d miss his chance to catch her today and try to convince her he’d be down for a Buffy marathon with her and Allison this Friday.
But nope, Scott and Jackson were too busy.
Until out of nowhere, Derek showed up and started growling until Jackson was growling back. A lot of nonverbal shit went down and Stiles figured it was almost like watching a foreign cartoon, until Jackson finally backed down with his shoulders hunched and walked out with a little less pep in his step.
But then Derek turned his glare back to Scott and his eyes were red and, oh shit Stiles thought, Scott’s eyes were yellow.
“Guys, we need to leave before they lock us in here.”
Scott narrowed his eyes and fuck it, Stiles was never going to see Lydia this afternoon.
But Derek straightened up and his eyes turned less red.
“There’s no cure Scott. So shut up and let me help you.”
“What, so you could boss me around?”
“A pack is a family, Scott. We help each other.”
“I have a family and I don’t need to make one up like you.”
Stiles was familiar with this argument, recognized it by the particular pitch in Scott’s voice. It’s the kind of argument that ended with Scott storming off and then running somewhere to be alone and/or with Allison.
However, before Scott could storm off, he got slammed face first into the lockers-hard enough that Stiles could now see where the lockers were dented.
Everything was dead silent as Derek hovered over Scott’s neck. Technically, if Derek killed anyone he was open game for the Argents. This meant that hypothetically, he wouldn’t kill anyone. The hypothesis never took Scott into account.
Derek was breathing very heavily over the space of Scott’s neck.
When he spoke, it was in a low and measured tone. “I am done with your callous bullshit. I don’t need you. The pack doesn’t need you. I am only trying to help you.” He let each word hang, putting space between them to let them sink in. He breathed in. “But do not make an enemy of the pack. And no, this is not a threat, you sixteen year old child. I am helping Jackson, and Lydia as best as I can so do not screw around with them while they’re new. I’m not going to ask you again. There is an open invitation you can individually consider for yourself, even though that would require your brain to function at a higher level than it’s used to.”
Scott turned viciously and Derek stepped back and bared his teeth in exactly the same way.
After circling each other for another five minutes, it was clear neither were going to make a definitive move. Derek straightened up. “Just something for you to consider. Stiles too.” And then he walked out, and Scott was punching the locker and angrily packing his things up.
When Stiles got home, his father was passed out on the couch. A photoalbum laid open on his lap. Wedding pictures of his mom.
Stiles swallowed back the burn in his throat and climbed the stairs.
No one was there, which was nice. He shut the window, but didn’t lock it, and fell asleep, dreaming into a wet pillow.
~
When he woke up, it was 3 am and he was really warm. His window was open. He fell back asleep and fell further into the warmness.
At three thirty he realized someone was loosely spooning him and they were much bigger than Scott. He was still half asleep and his survival instinct probably wouldn’t kick in for another fifteen minutes.
“Derek or Jackson.”
“You do smell nice.” Derek mumbled. He wasn’t pressed against stiles or anything. He had an arm thrown over him and his body had kind of curved to accommodate his but his face was a good few inches away. Stiles could tell by how close he felt the warm breath on his neck.
“Scott doesn’t get what it’s really like to lose someone you loved.” He said as way of apology, because he fell asleep thinking about his mother and there was a left over sense that he had been dreaming about her and it still hurt to think about it.
Derek didn’t say anything but Stiles felt like he understood.
“Not used to being taken advantage of in the middle of the night.” It was a joke he could only make when he was almost sure there was a dream going on, but why he’d be dreaming about Derek was beyond him. Or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t want to think too much about it.
“I don’t have a bed and sleeping on a rug isn’t as romantic as it used to be.”
“Can’t you sleep on Jackson’s bed? Or Lydias?” he said it easily but if he were more conscious he never would have mentioned Lydia. Right now though, they seemed very far away, and Derek was tangible. He initiated a move back and Derek let him further into the space of his arms.
“You smell nicer.”
“Well as long as we’re being logical.” Derek hummed close enough to the back of his head that Styles could feel the vibrations.
“You know, if you want to win me over, or my heart or whatever, it’s going to take more than just sneaking into my room and surprising me with cuddling.”
“Really.” Derek sounded amused.
“Yes. Really. Like no more death threats.”
“And what else?” he asked, his lips very close to Stiles’ skin.
“The usual you know, flowers, dating, movies.” Stiles wasn’t thinking but he liked the sound of his own voice at this point.
Derek snorted.
“Sure.”
“What?” something registered that this wasn’t normal behavior or that something wasn’t right.
“I’ve had girlfriends who didn’t sing to that tune, but if it’s your thing,” Stiles felt Derek give a lazy shrug behind him.
“I was kidding you know.”
“I’m not Scott.”
Somehow it very easily communicated that Derek meant to say “I know you weren’t being serious.”
“I’m supposed to hang out with Scott on Friday, but,” Derek stayed silent, “I’m actually more interested in doing things other than watching him try to control his anger for an afternoon.”
“You have good ideas, he just needs more focus.”
“Yeah, well don’t tell that to him.”
“What would you rather do?”
Stiles was conscious enough to mutter instead of clearly mumble his answer.
Derek had wolf hearing.
“A Buffy marathon?” Derek seemed to tense behind him even though he didn’t move. “Lydia is having one with Allison tomorrow.”
“Yeah I- how did you know.”
“Lydia told me.”
“What, so as pack members we have to tell you everything we’re doing?” Stiles valued privacy very much. The patriot act was bullshit and he was very vocal about it to his father.
Tension flooded out of the room and Derek adjusted himself just a centimeter closer to Stiles, his palm folded gently into the fabric of Stiles’ shirt.
“Well, anything to do with the Argents. The family that wants to kill us. Don’t you think that sounds reasonable?”
“Oh.”
“Lydia and Jackson are very opinionated about their relative independence. It makes things…difficult. But I’m not a tyrant Stiles. That’s not what an alpha is.”
“So what was that thing with Jackson and Scott in the locker room?”
“I think Jackson is going to be the first to challenge pack ranks.”
“What, he’s a beta and wannabe alpha? I see that.”
“Omega. Lydia is the second in command right now, she’s most capable of maintaining control and order.”
“Well that explains his more dickish than usual behavior at school.”
“Not that rank really matters in this case. We’re humans too.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve never seen Buffy before. My sister watched it when she was younger.”
“…oh?”
The air was still and Stiles waited for something. Derek was holding his breath.
“We should watch it. On Friday.”
“I don’t think Allison and Lydia…”
“Not with them.”
“Oh. Okay.” Stiles was 80% buffered and closer to realizing he was setting up a date.
“Like a date?” he asked awkwardly and regretted it immediately after. Derek passed the question by though.
“Maybe you can explain to me what my sister liked about it so much.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
~
Text message
To: Scott
From: Styles
Time:4:00
Can’t practice today, have a date. Yeah. Shut up stop grinning and just go study dog boy.
To: Stiles
From: Scott
Time:4:03
Dude! Who??? Allison is @ Lyd. watching buffy all night.
To:Scott
From:Stiles
Time:4:30
G2g, date’s here.
To:Stiles
From:Scott
Time:5:30
Do you have my gamestop card? I think I left it there when ordering the last Assasin’s creed
To:Stiles
From:Scott
Time:5:40
Omg dude your phone is off?
To:Stiles
From:Scott
Time: 5:42
Do I have to call your dad? Is he okay?
To:Stiles
From: Scott
Time:5:55
Your dad says you’re at home? I didn’t tell him about your date but getting so serious on a first one? WHO IS SHE??????!!!!
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:6:00
Or he.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:6:30
It’s not Danny is it?
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:6:45
I’d be cool with it if it was you know.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:7:00
Allison said Lydia took her phone and turned it off. She just took a bathroom break and was allowed to talk to me for ten minutes.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:7:10
I expect you to call me with details after the date.
To: Stiles
From:Scott
Time:7:20
I’m coming over to get my game card, it’s definitely at your place. If I see anything through the window I swear I won’t interrupt.
~
“I hope you know there’s no such thing as vampires.”
“That’s what Scott said about werewolves.” Stiles went to change dvds to disc two. If they made it to the mid season finale he’d be happy.
“Whatever.” Derek moved and situated himself more comfortably on the couch. Stiles had demanded his jacket as a condition of entry, so he was left to move around in a faded gray shirt. His arms covered the entire corner of the couch and he was half laying down on it. Stiles wondered if it was an alpha’s need to dominate space.
Stiles sat down neutrally in the middle, though Derek’s side seemed to be trying to draw him in. “Lydia compared you to Angel.”
“Really.”
“I don’t know why I just told you that.”
Derek leaned forward in a small movement. He brushed his fingers lightly up and down the hair on the back of Stiles’ neck. Petting him? Stiles shoved the definition down and liked the warm sparks he felt.
“I guess it’s the tall dark and handsome thing. And the brooding. Appearing in people’s rooms while they sleep. Inability to use doors.”
“I can use doors.” Derek’s voice was quiet and nice to listen to.
Stiles thought he should speak more.
But then they didn’t speak at all and that was much better.
~
~
Nothing matches the mood killer of a cold shower as much as when the guy you might be attracted to and is really teaching you the definition of a French kiss and is lying on top of you suddenly whispers your best friend’s name into your mouth.
Thirty seconds later and his room was full of half wolfed out growling faces. One of his best friend and the other of his… something else.
Instinct said run.
Panic said run.
Mouth didn’t have much of a drive but talk.
“Scott.” He yelled.
“Leave him alone.” Scott wasn’t even paying attention to him.
“I’m right here and I don’t need my battles fought. Scott, look, yes, look at me. Me. Right. We were watching Buffy. I’m attracted to him yes. I don’t know, he looks good and it makes me uncomfortable in areas to think about it. Stop that, stop- Scott.”
“Why didn’t you pick up the phone?” Scott was angry at him. About not being able to reach him.
“Wow, ironic. I told you I was on a date. I turned off my phone so I wouldn’t get any interruptions, and, “ Stiles pulled out his phone, “oh look. 32 messages. From you.”
“It’s Derek, man. I thought you hated him?”
“Don’t you think this is a conversation that can be left for another time? Hm?”
“How can you even trust him?”
Stiles rubbed at his eyebrows. “Another conversation, Scott. I mean, we were just watching Buffy. Things happened.” He made gestures to express things ‘happening’.
Scott tried to move towards his position behind the couch but as soon as he advanced Derek started growling and moved more offensively without moving at all. Scott growled back but stayed where he was.
“Both of you stop pissing everywhere, okay. Scott, I will talk to you later I swear. But seriously, go home and think about shit, if you are this bored,” he held up his phone with the 32 text messages, one he had skimmed through said something about a lint roller and pubic hair, “when you don’t have me or Allison to hang out with.”
“You,” he directed his pointed finger at Derek, and figured if this was going anywhere he wasn’t going to go down as someone’s bitch, “put the fangs away and sit your ass back down because we are getting to the finale tonight.”
Slowly, the red left Derek’s eyes and the fangs changed back to normal teeth.
Scott followed. He flashed one last look of anger at Stiles before walking out and slamming the door behind him.
The room was silent. Stiles turned to Derek, who waited, sniffed the air, and when satisfied, looked at Stiles.
“He handled that pretty well, all things considered. Glad I don’t have any broken furniture to show for it. Awkward reveal, bad timing, but not that bad.”
Derek walked toward him and there was something playful in his posture.
Stiles felt brave, grabbed his grey shirt at the center and tugged him the rest of the way. Derek leant down compliantly into the kiss. It was kind of sweet and the kind of kiss that made Stile’s stomach jump and his heart flutter in what he imagined as a very cartoonish occurrence. It made his head feel half baked when he pulled back.
But he steered them back to the mission.
“Buffy, play button. Press the play button.”
He sat down on the couch with his legs crossed and leaning comfortably into Derek’s side. Derek pressed play. His dad wouldn’t get in until 5am and Derek was warm and Joss Whedon dialogue was always entertaining.
~
Scott doesn’t join the pack on Saturday, but Stiles does.
He doesn’t get much of a difference in treatment. Jackson sniffed him once and rolled his eyes. Lydia winked. Derek tells them to run two laps but at least he runs with them. Stiles isn’t powered up enough to keep up but it’s only two laps and Derek doesn’t expect anything out of it. The rest of the day until noon is Derek testing their anger and Stiles monitoring it on his phone. There’s a brief skirmish with Jackson that ends in Derek full on wolfing out and biting the back of Jackson’s neck.
Derek sends them home and keeps Stiles behind.
Sleeping on rugs isn’t romantic, but making out on them is something new.
Making out in the house where your entire boyfriend’s family died is a little macabre, but Stiles thinks that’s just where his life is right now.
~
Stiles tries calling Scott on Sunday but Scott never picks up.
He goes back to Derek’s, and Lydia and Jackson are wolfed out and fighting.
“It’s just practice. I got cable installed.”
After Lydia takes a shower, and Jackson and Derek talk heatedly in the kitchen, the pizza Stiles ordered in secret arrives and they watch news for any animal attacks, but Jackson convinces them to change it to channel 2, where they’re playing ‘Werewolf’, a notoriously bad b-horror film.
He checks his phone every five minutes until Derek starts rubbing at the back of his head.
~
Derek calls him but he thought it was Scott. Scott hadn’t been at school.
“Be over as soon as you can.”
He’s not sure what it means.
“What happened to him?” He should probably be freaking out at the sight of his best friend’s body unconscious on his something’s couch. Possibly dead. Oh wait no he was breathing.
Derek held up a small metal thing. “Tranquilizer. Apparently Scott wolfed out on Allison and one of the Argents was there to put him to sleep. Pretty heavy if he was knocked out this long. They just dropped him off.”
“Dropped him off like…”
Derek gave him a significant look.
Dropped off like literally dropped him.
“I’ll…take him home.”
“No. has to be now. The Argents are holding me responsible for his bullshit and, like it or not, the wolves of this town have to stick together and get rid of any who won’t join.”
Under the condition that he could still look for a cure and assurance from Stiles that Derek wasn’t a tyrant, Scott grudgingly accepted he needed some help if he ever wanted to have sex with Allison.
If someone were to psycho-analyze Derek, they might say he liked Stiles because he always spoke his thoughts, wanted to or not, he was completely unguarded. Maybe the noise was at first grating, but it was much more welcome to the silent manipulation of Kate Argent.
But no one will ever get him on a couch to analyze him, unless it’s Stiles under the right conditions, and he doesn’t think about Kate. Except for when he does, but Stiles is usually there to help him forget with a Buffy marathon or questions about what they’re going to do for lunch or when he needs a random part for his car that Derek knows how to put in.
By the following Sunday they’re watching Lord of the Rings.
“I can’t believe you’ve been deprived of the fantasy genre all your life.”
“It’s different when you kind of live in it.”
“Yeah but this is all the shit you love basically, misplaced. World war two, the evil eastern Nazis! The honorable west. That stuff.”
“That’s it. We’re watching Casablanca later.”
“Casablanca? A chickflick?”
“If you’ve ever seen Casablanca you’ll know that’s not all it’s about.”
“Guys, shut up, you’re ruining Galadriel’s intro.” Lydia and Stiles apparently benched for the same genre.
Jackson and Stiles looked mildly uncomfortable sitting next to each other and the situation in general. But at a certain point in the film they got very into the war sequences.
~
Casablanca was better than Stiles expected. And Derek appreciated Stiles’ appreciation very emphatically. With his mouth.