It's About More Than Love and Sex

[xo_swan_ox]

Title: It's About More Than Love and Sex
Author: xo_swan_ox
Pairing: Derek and Stiles
Rating: pg-13
Summary: Maybe pushing him against walls was an excuse to break Stile’s personal bubble and bask in his glory.
Warnings: swearing
AN: Uh it's like 3:00 in the morning and I don't have a beta so yeah...enjoy.



Stiles cannot think of any current realm in which this situation would make sense. It just doesn’t, make sense that is. It just doesn’t make sense okay. Stiles vaguely thinks about a time in future where he is Zen and wiser and can easily piece together the pieces of his past. But at present time without the promise of wisdom, Stiles is just stuck on how nothing about this makes sense and how there were absolutely no signs what so ever….

Okay Stiles thinks maybe pushing him against walls was an excuse to break Stile’s personal bubble and bask in his glory. But under no circumstances does smacking a person’s head into a steering wheel communicate anything more than tangible hate. Yeah that’s right tangible because when person smacks another person’s head down onto a hard steering wheel you can taste the blatant unamused emotions of a person.

So yeah no sense. Derek has obviously been replaced with his twin except it isn’t his evil twin it’s his odd twin. It’s Derek from another universe, and that totally proves Stile’s suspicions about the parallel realms and what not, which is convenient because he was about theorize the hell out of string theory and all representations of other worlds in science fiction. But now that he knows that there are definitely other universes he can cross that research off of his list. Thank God for that.

“Stiles,” Derek’s gruff voice echoes around his head. He hopes that it isn’t that loud outside of his head because Stiles is pretty sure that tonight is Dad’s night off which means that is like right across the hallway and

Oh hey Derek’s hand is waving in front of his face.

“So can you like repeat that one more time?” Stiles asks blinking as Derek’s hand stops its journey.

“I think we should be mates,” Derek says plainly like it’s a completely normal phrase and for the record just because this like the fifth time that Stiles has had made Derek say it, it still does not make sense. Stiles blinks some more, because it seems like a completely reasonable stalling method. Stiles is a master at blinking. He could win trophies. Derek could win medals for staring though and looming and sneaking into bedrooms via windows and wait…wow, all of that sounds bad in Stiles’ head. He can’t imagine how much worse it would sound out loud if like let’s say the Sheriff woke up and handcuffed people and started asking questions-

And oh God Derek wants Stiles to be his mate!

“Uh,” Stiles articulates because he is also a pro articulator, “I’m not sure that I understand.”

“I want you to be my mate,” Derek repeats slowly.

“Yeah I heard like the first 80 times,” Stiles also excels at exaggeration, it’s a gift really, “But I don’t-I guess uh - Why?”
Stiles fumbles a bit because he doesn’t really know what he wants to know. An explanation maybe? He also doesn’t know if he really wants to hear it.

“You’re loyal, brave, and intelligent,” Derek pauses, “And cute and I think we would be good together as mates taking care of the pack. I think you will stabilize it. Make it so Iasac isn’t so scared and Scott is more willing to be pack. So mates?” Stiles returns to his blinking while the whole scenario replays in his mind and holy grates batman! He’s the fucking girl in any paranormal romance ever. Stiles should know he watched a couple while researching werewolves (his Netflix preferences will be forever skewed) and no just NO!

“No,” Stiles says.

“No?” Derek’s thick eyebrows draw together.

“I will not be the girl that is just so attracted to Mr. Tall, dark and broody. I will not cave at your simple request and the fantastic view of your abs like some shitty portrayal of a hormonal teenage girl,” and oops he accidentally let that bit about the abs slip out.  Derek smirks at Stiles before remembering that he was shot down.

“Go flirt with another deputy,” Stiles says and gestures to window from which Derek had rode in on his high horse. Derek turns to go but not before grabbing Stiles at the hips and pulling him so, one he can hear Stiles gasp (which he does not do because he just doesn’t okay he is man and men do not gasp) and whisper lowly in his ear,

“I’m not going to let this drop you know,” Derek breathes, “and I knew that you liked my abs. I was stripping for you not Danny.” Stiles blinks again and Derek is gone. Out the widow and off to do whatever. Stiles sits down on his bed and tries to not think about how got himself into a situation where he is about to wooed/courted/ other romantic bullshit by the big bad werewolf Derek Hale.

Derek makes his first gesture swiftly. When Stiles opens the door to his Jeep in the morning, there is a folded t-shirt on the driver’s seat. Stiles stares at it for while before curiosity get the best of him and he grasps the collar letting the shirt fall open. The black shirt has the batman emblem across the chest. Stiles then notices a piece of paper fluttering about his feet.

You’re Batman to me. Never Robin.

The paper crumples where Stiles in gripping it because he is holding onto it way too hard and is maybe a little more than freaking out because Holy Hell! Derek is actually serious about this. Stiles gets into his car and throws the shirt and the paper into the back. He speeds off and tells himself that he’ll think about it later. Right now he is going to focus onto getting to school.

Stiles mantra of “School, school, math, chemistry, lacrosse, don’t get into trouble, don’t take the fall for anything today, school, yeah school” is pretty darn effective. In fact it works perfectly until he is ten seconds late for the pre-class Lacrosse Meeting. Stiles sneakily opens his locker while the coach rambles on about games and what not and sexual innuendos and such. And well Stiles is being sneaky until he sees what is in his locker, then promptly slams it shut and leans against it blocking the locker from the world.

“Problem Stilinsky?” Finstock asks. Stiles glances at the everyone in the locker room who are currently staring at him.

“No sir,” Stiles says not moving from the locker. Coach Finstock looks like he is boldly going to spill more words so Stiles puts a stop to that,

“And don’t we have a Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy concerning the lockers anyways?”

“Very true Bilinsky, moving on…” Coach says before talking more about Lacrosse. Scott sends him a questioning look that Stiles ignores.

When Coach dismisses them it’s still two minutes before the bell so seven minutes before class. Finstock’s final words are about reporting Isaac if anyone sees him, and everyone except for Stiles bolts out of the locker room. Scott gives
Stiles another look before his phone chimes and then he too runs from the locker room.

Stiles opens his locker again and pulls out a tan torn book and another folded scrap of paper. The gold lettering has faded but he can still read: The Lycan History. The note reads: So your research can be accurate. Stiles gapes at the book because one he has come to the realization that he is being recruited just as Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were. He also realizes that Derek is not playing off of his weaknesses but Derek is exploiting his loves and Holy Shit Derek knows what Stiles loves. When did that happen? Wasn’t it like four days ago that Derek had thought about punching Stiles in the face?   Stiles slips the note and book into his bag and then pretends like he didn’t, for his sanity you understand, and because he does really appreciate accurate research.

Nothing else happens until lunch. Stiles is just standing in line waiting for his turn to served when Erica moodily approaches and drops a white bag into his surprised hands.

“I cannot believe that you’re next,” she hisses before stomping away. Stiles blinks then looks inside the bag…it’s filled to the brim with curly fries and well Stiles can’t just let them go to waste so he leaves the lunch line and glances at where
Boyd and Erica are sitting before joining Scott.

“Dude where’d you get the fries?” Scott asks.

“Oh my Dad dropped them off,” Stiles shrugs and offers a few to Scott who greedily takes them.

Neither Derek nor his gifts make an appearance for the rest of the school day. Stiles lets out a deep breath as he approaches his car and…nothing is there. Everything is just as he left it. And Thank You God and Mary and those other two things that’s he’s supposed to thank, and thank you Lady Luck and whoever else is the master of his fate.
Stiles drives home with a smile on his face. He maybe even whistles a bit. That is, until he pulls onto his street and sees a Camaro parked in front of his house and…his Dad’s car in the driveway. Yeah that can’t be good. Stiles pulls in next to the cruiser and slowly emerges from his Jeep.

Sooner than he’d like, Stiles is at the door and entering his house. There is a ringing in his ears and it stops only when the door shuts with a resounding click.

“Dad,” Stiles calls out taking another step into the house.

“In the living room son,” the Sheriff calls back. Stiles walks past the kitchen and turns into the living room to see his Dad sitting in his armchair and Derek sitting calmly on the couch.

“Why don’t you join us,” Stiles’ Dad gestures for Stiles to sit on the couch. On the couch next to Derek. What the hell did Derek do? Stiles makes a grand attempt at sitting about a foot away from Derek. Unfortunately the couch is old and if two people sit on it then they slide right to the center. So Stiles sits out of touching distance but slides, by fault of the couch, right into cuddling, intimate, lack of distance…next to Derek…on the couch…with his father sternly looking at them both…

“So son,” the Sheriff pauses, “Derek has just explained to me that he and Scott, and other kids like Isaac are Werewolves and there has been a war going on with Werewolf Hunters, a war which Kate was responsible for and that you have known about and been involved for about six months. Am I right so far?” And wow Stiles can hear it when he capitalizes key words like ‘Werewolf.’

“Dad I-uh Derek uh,” Stiles gapes (and great he’s gone from blinking to gaping. What a great improvement!!!) and nods his head.

“Derek has also informed me that you harbored him while he was a fugitive and you grew close and he says that he recognizes the age difference between you two and therefore thought it only appropriate for him to ask for my permission to ask you out.” Stiles, still gaping, sneaks a glance at Derek who is looking down and twiddling his thumbs like he’s nervous and well Stiles bolts.

“Excuse me,” he says, stands, and runs up the stairs till he is leaning against his closed bedroom door and trying not to hyperventilate. And he is succeeding until someone knocks on his door.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice asks through the wood. Stiles thinks about pulling a Derek and jumping out his window but it’d be useless since Derek is werewolf, and his father knows this, so Derek would catch Stiles before he could get anywhere.

“Stiles?” Derek asks again. Stiles sighs, unlocks his door, and steps away hoping that it’s enough of an invitation. Apparently it is because Derek steps into his room and closes the door behind him. They stare at each other before Stiles breaks the silence,

“You told my father,” he states…okay, he accuses.

“Well yeah,” Derek looks like he’s physically restraining himself from making awkward hand gestures, “I thought that you would appreciate not having to lie to him.” And yeah Stiles does appreciate that but,

“No warning you barge into my house and tell my Dad everything.” This time Derek’s left hand rubs the back of his neck.
“I thought,” Derek starts, “I thought I should make a grander gesture since my gifts weren’t making a big enough impact.” Stiles sits down on his bed and grasps at his face in frustration.

“I know you said it enough times but I still don’t know what you want from me?” Stiles admits eyes closed, not that makes a difference he can still sense it and feel it when Derek kneels in front of him.

“I want us to be mates,” Derek states.

“But mates insinuates love and sex and you’ve never expressed interest in either of those things before,” Stiles fires back.

“I did. I just didn’t know how to deal with it during the whole Alpha fiasco,” Derek admits and Stiles opens his eyes, “Come on I did strip for you and use any excuse to touch you.” There is a smile on Derek’s face. It’s small and it’s humorous and Stiles can tell the difference between this smile and the one he used to flirt with the deputy. Stiles removes his hands from his face and looks at Derek.

“And it’s not just about the love and sex,” Derek says, “it’s about taking care of one another and taking care of the pack,” Derek pauses, “Stiles you’ve taken care of me for the past six months and you’ve always taken care of Scott. You’re perfect for the pack. You’re perfect for me. I’m not trying to recruit you, I genuinely want you.”

Stiles opens his mouth and closes it again. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Let me take you on a date,” Derek continues, “Let me hold your hand and order for you. Let me kiss you on your doorstep. Let me prove you to you that this can work.” And hey when did Derek wrap his hands around Stile’s.

“My dad said yes?”

“He did,” Derek confirms and Stiles doesn’t know what else to do so he leans forward and plants his lips on Derek’s. And wow that’s nice. The pressure and the movement and the subtle graze tongue and yeah…

“Okay,” Stiles says as he pulls back, “Just let me change my shirt.” Derek’s response is the biggest and brightest and most attractive smile that Stiles has ever seen. Stiles runs down to his car and grabs his stuff.

The book takes residence on his bedside table. The notes in his top drawer. The shirt slides over Stiles’ shoulder and onto his torso. Stiles’ hand slips into Derek’s as they walk down the driveway to Derek’s car.

As Stiles buckles his seat belt, he glances at the front window in time to catch his Dad’s smile and the closing of the curtains.