#Sterekweek2019

[midnightisquiet]

STEREK WEEK 2019: Day 3 - Outdoors

[aussiebee]

Eligible bachelor Derek Hale has announced that whomever can take the key from around his dog's neck will be the person he marries. Stiles Stilinski think this is utterly ridiculous.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182045

[jmeelee]

Trick or Treat (You look good enough to eat)

Derek didn’t mind working Halloween night.  It was notoriously dead (pun intended), lacking the usual pain-in-the-butt patrons, and gave him time to catch up on his year-end book orders.  Cindy made him a double batch of her famous salted-caramel brownies as thanks for covering her shift, and proceeded to show him no less than thirty pictures of her one-year-old dressed in a bumblebee costume.  “It’s her first time going trick-or-treating,” she said for the umpteenth time.  “I’m so grateful I don’t have to miss it.” He hummed politely at the pictures (he liked kids, just, you know, not thirty pictures of the same one) and snatched the proffered plate of caramel-chocolate goodness, mouth already watering.

“Trick or treat, smell my feet.  You look good enough to eat.”

At first, Derek thought the statement was directed at him.

The words echoed through the silent, almost-empty library like a tomb. The digital clock in the bottom right corner of his monitor read 5:39 PM. The only other staff working tonight were two elderly clerks clad in sparkly pumpkin sweatshirts and the teenage page who was too old for Halloween but still wore a cat-ear headband. 

Derek glanced up from the computer, over the top of his black-rimmed glasses, mouth set in a firm, no-nonsense line.  It was his best librarian face, the one he slid on to deal with censorship challenges and patrons who loved to loudly announce, “I’m a taxpayer!” when the movie they wanted to borrow was already checked out. But the guy—tall, wiry, with shaggy brown hair in need of a cut—wasn’t trying to sweet-talk Derek at all. 

Shame.  He was devilishly handsome, and just Derek’s type.

Instead, cute-guy was buttering up the bowl of candy corn sitting on the circulation desk, next to a festive sign with smiling black bats proclaiming, “Bat-ter take one before they’re gone!” A grin stretched his generous mouth, dimpling into pale cheeks dusted with tiny dark moles.  He reached a long-fingered hand into the orange plastic dish.

“I wouldn't do that,” Derek warned, voice soft but commanding. 

The patron tore his laser-focused attention away from the sugary treats, large teddy-bear brown eyes going wide when they landed on Derek’s face. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. He dropped a single tri-colored kernel back onto the heap, cleared his throat and slowly reeled in his hand. “Oh, uh…sorry? I thought the sign said they were free.”  

“They are,” Derek informed him. “But they’ve been sitting here since my shift started at noon, and about a dozen kids have dug through them.” Derek inclined his head and lowered his voice, tone intended to strike terror. “And Dave, too.”

The candy corn caper’s eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned a little further over the desk.  “Is Dave the monster who made you work on Halloween night?”

Derek took great satisfaction watching the guy’s reaction.  “No.  He’s a regular who always picks his nose.”

“Gross,” the cute guy said, looking at the bowl with a grimace.  “These things are terrible, but they’re my favorite and I couldn’t resist. You really did me a solid.”

He stepped away with a sad sigh. Derek found himself not wanting to break the spell, so he added a flippant, “Trust me, you’re better off buying a discount bag in a day or two.  Less chance of contracting the plague.”

The guy threw his head back and howled with laughter, the sound liquid and warm, hitting Derek’s veins like a double shot of espresso, giving his heart palpitations. “Well, thanks—“ big brown eyes slid down Derek’s face, his neck, catching on the magnetic name tag clipped to his tan cardigan—“Derek, for saving my life. Unfortunately, there’s no corn-syrupy goodness lurking in my near future.”

He gestures to a young, brown-haired boy bedecked in a DJ Yonder outfit, quietly pulling puzzles out of the activity bin. “I’m Stiles, and that’s my son, Jordan.  He has some pretty serious food allergies. I only have partial custody, but I don’t keep anything in my house that might cause a reaction. He’s anaphylactic to most nuts and has celiac disease.”  Cute patron—Stiles—shrugged, holding his large hands away from his body in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Hence why we’re visiting the library on Halloween, instead of Trick-or-treating.”

Derek blinked, brain working overtime to absorb the information dump.  Cute guy.  Lickable moles.  Pornographic hands. No ring on his finger. Sweet, well-behaved kid. Single dad.

“You guys didn’t want to hit up some Teal Pumpkin spots?” Derek asked.

Oh.  Add adorable nose crinkle to the list.  “Some... what?”

Derek spun forty-five degrees in his chair, kicked off the file drawer and rolled to the reference shelf, where he pulled down a green binder.  

“Impressive.” Stiles raised an eyebrow as Derek glided back to the desk and stood, opening the binder and handing it to him.  

“A lot of people are starting to provide non-food treats for trick-or-treaters since food restrictions are so prevalent.  It’s called the Teal Pumpkin Project.  You put a teal-colored pumpkin on your porch, and add your house to the online map.”  Derek pulled a copy of the local map and an informational brochure out of a laminated sleeve. “This map was printed yesterday morning.  You can have it if you want.” 

Jordan looked up from his puzzle, eyes hopeful.  “Can we go, Dad? Can we?” 

Stiles turned toward his son, face softening, and Derek found himself wondering how it would feel to have such unadulterated joy directed at him.  “Sure, dude.  Let’s give it a shot.”  Jordan hooted, fist-pumping the air. 

“Thanks again,” Stiles said, waving the map between himself and Derek.  “I can’t believe I’d never heard about this. You’re a lifesaver.”  

Derek shrugged, half-satisfied at providing excellent customer service, and half-guilty for not wanting Stiles to leave so soon. “That’s what I’m here for, to help you find information.”

“And to protect me from contaminated candy corn.” Stiles winked, and Derek’s stomach swooped like he’d eaten one-too-many brownies. “Not all heroes wear capes. Some wear cardigans.”

“Have fun tonight,” Derek said to both of them in parting. It was the first time in ten years on the job that he didn’t want a reference interview to end.  “And be safe.”

Jordan dragged his father toward the automatic doors, and Derek definitely did not lean over and covertly check out Stiles’ retreating back side from behind the staircase to the second floor.

If he hadn’t been paying such close attention, Derek might have missed Stiles halting them at the door with a soft, “Hey bud.  I forgot one thing.  Wait here for a second.” As Stiles turned and jogged back to the desk, Derek quickly grabbed some loose papers from the desk, shifting them around in his hands and burning holes in them with his eyeballs.  Too late he realized one sheet was upside down.  

“Hey, Derek?” Stiles asked, a little breathless.

Derek cleared his throat and laid down the paper armor. “Yeah?” 

“I know stuff like this probably happens to you all the time, since you look, you know…” Stiles gestured to Derek’s face and broad, sweater-clad shoulders.  “Like that. And I promise I’m not trying to be creepy here, though technically Halloween is the perfect night for creepy-”

“Stiles,” Derek expertly interrupted.  “How can I help you?” 

“I was wondering… I was hoping…” He took a deep breath. “I have to drop Jordan off at his mom’s tonight at 8:30, and if you’re free after work…”

Derek exhaled the manic butterflies tickling his ribs.  “You want to go trick-or-treating?”

Stiles blinked, then burst out in a cackle loud enough to rival a witch. “As long as it involves you, me and some caffeine, I’m game for anything.”

Derek scratched at his bearded jawline. “Well, there’s a live ghost story reading happening at the coffee shop down the street.  It starts at 9:00.  I could meet you there?” 

And oh. So that’s what it felt like to have Stiles’ soft, happy look directed at him.  It felt frighteningly good.   

“It’s a date,” Stiles said, backing away, smile big enough to make sweet little laugh lines crinkle around his eyes .  “See you in a bit.”

Derek munched another brownie and watched the swing of Stiles’ slim hips as he walked away.  

Yeah.  Definitely good enough to eat.

[chrysthebadwolf]

STEREK WEEK 2019- DAY SIX- CANON HIGHLIGHTS (TEEN WOLF 3X01)

“You are sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed. ‘‘

                                                           The Miniaturist, Jessie Burton

[lifebeginsbyleaving]

Eggroll

My first time writing smut and don't even open it if you aren't ready because we jump right the fuck on in.

This is for the sterek week prompt canon highlights. It's somewhere after S3 E1. During the past few months Stiles and Derek got closer. I changed a lot. Boyd and Erica never left, neither did Jackson or Allison. Also Stiles is eighteen, idk how but he is. And I changed some other things. The scene is the one they are planning to break into the vault, but right before it.

Or the one where Stiles eats Derek out like the last eggroll at the buffet.

*******************************************************************************

"Wait no, stop."

Derek's actions haulted as his eyes switched from an angry looking, pinched brow, face to eyes wide as saucers. "Fuck I didn't hurt you did I?! Shit!" Derek began to slowly ease out of him.

Stiles' hands flew down from the headboard, one to curl around his bicep the other to hold his waist. "No wait."

"Does that hurt more?" Derek looked stricken, which give the circumstances seemed hilarious.

A low laugh escaped Stiles. "No, you didn't hurt me."

Derek's eyebrows furrowed again, but less looking like he was in pain and more in confusion.

"Well then why woul-" His eyebrows shot up. "Unless you didn't want to anymore. Shit." He once again tried to pull out, but Stiles dug his fingertips in.

"Hey, hey." Stiles moved his hand from Derek's arm to gently cup the side of his face. He leaned up and softly kissed his lips. "I still want to."

Stiles tried to look into Derek's eyes as reassuring and loving as he could.

Derek softly smiled and leaned in for another kiss, quickly trying to get their night back on track. Stiles indulged him till Derek bit his lip and roughly grabbed his hips.

Stiles broke the kiss. "No."

Derek looked confused again and this time slightly frustrated. "If I'm not hurting you what's wrong?"

"Derek more can be wrong with sex than just pain."

"What does that even mean? Do you want me to stop or no. If so I'm completely fine with that, you know that Stiles. Just tell me what I'm doing wrong." He sounded slightly angry until the last part betrayed his self doubt.

Stiles took a deep breath. "You're being too rough."

Derek's face was shocked. Stiles didn't grab him this time when he pulled out. "Fuck Stiles! I thought you said I wasn't hurting you!" Derek's eyes searched Stiles' skin in a frenzy looking for bruises or blood.

"And you didn't."

Derek looked up at him again. "Oh. Oh! I- I um- it seemed- I mean I thought- I thought you liked it?" Derek self consciously bunched up the sheet around his waist.

"I did. God did I love it. Especially the part when you slammed the bedroom door and then me against it then had me jump up. Fuck. Meeee! That was hot. Like seriously I am going to dream about that for months."

"What? Stiles stop lying! You're confusing me."

Stiles put a comforting hand on Derek's thigh and stroked it with his thumb. "I'm not lying." He grabbed Derek's hand and put it over his heart. "You did not hurt me. I did enjoy it."

Derek squinted like somehow he missed a lie.

"I just don't think you did. I think the person being hurt by that wasn't me." Stiles looked at him with sadness. "It was you."

Derek looked at him deadpan. "Werewolf Stiles."

Stiles lightly hit his chest. "Not what I meant, asshat." Stiles looked serious again. "I just don't think you were enjoying it like I was."

"Could you not feel how hard I was for you?" Derek said it blaśe, but it made Stiles blush.

"Yup. Definitely. I could feel it, all up in my business. And pressed against my thigh earlier. Yup definitely. For sure. And I liked that too. That was great. An-"

Derek could see Stiles collect himself to get back on track. He took a deep breath.

"I think you enjoyed fucking me, not how you were fucking me."

Derek stared blankly. "I think you were thinking too much when you should've been focused on being fucked. Is there seriously a difference?"

"Yes Derek. You can fuck different ways just as much as you can fuck different people."

Derek nodded bitterly. "Right, and you don't like how I fuck."

Stiles groaned. "No, I love how you fuck, but it doesn't feel like you love it."

Derek sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. I know we've only been dating for a little bit, and you wanted this to be great, but I have no idea what you mean. I'm sorry I'm doing something wrong."

"You're not doing something wrong, you just don't seem really in it. I am kind of new to all of this, so tell me if your experience is different. If you don't know what a partner wants to do, what do you do?" Stiles asked like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

"What do you mean?"

Stiles scoffed. "You can't tell me I'm the first one that's ever- Oh my God I'm the first one that's ever called you out on your caveman fucking!"

Derek looked embarrassed.

"Don't call it that! Look Stiles I get you might be new to this, but when people see me they assume things. I look a certain way so people expect me to act a certain way. When they see me, the leather jacket, and the car they know what they want."

Stiles looked at Derek with a fond considering look. "And what about what you want?"

Derek looked thrown. "What I want?"

Stiles huffed and moved to sit in Derek's lap. "Look, those other people might want to fuck Derek Hale, or the leather jacket, or the car, but not me. I don't want to fuck Derek Hale the macho alpha."

Derek looked at him quizzingly.

"I want to fuck Derek. Who I've only been dating for a couple weeks, but I've known long enough to know what every eyebrow twitch means. Who will sometimes look at me across pack meetings with a smile so beautiful and fond it knocks my breath out. Who breaks for bunnies and gasps till he knows it's safe then grumbles about it. Who is my alpha that takes care of our pack."

Derek's eyes flashed and his hands moved from being loosely on his hips to wrapping around his back.

"Who can make me feel as frustrated as I've ever been as easily as he can make me smile and laugh till I feel like bursting."

Derek tried not to look at Stiles as he swallowed thickly and tried to will away the shine in his eyes. Stiles grabbed his chin and pecked his lips.

"I want to fuck you Derek. The real you. I want you to fuck me how you want to fuck me, not how you think everybody wants to fuck you. You can want things from sex Derek." Stiles leaned back and saw the shine in his eyes, so he kissed under each eye. When he finished he crawled into the center of the bed and turned around to face Derek. Stiles laid down and spread his legs as he splayed his hands above himself like they were bound.

"Fuck me Derek. The real you."

Derek's eyes flashed as he let out a pitiful whine.

"H-how?" His voice cracked halfway though.

Stiles smirked. "However you want."

Another whine escaped Derek.

"No. I mean- I- no one has ever- I don't-I don't-" He looked overwhelmed and unsure.

Stiles set free from his imaginary bondage once again moved closer to kneel next to Derek with a look of understanding. "Okay. That's totally okay. How about I help you? I've read a lot of helpful stuff on being open with your partner. Would you be okay with me talking while we figure this out together?"

Derek vigorously nodded from where he was breathing in Stiles' scent in the crook of his neck.

"Alright first things first, safe word."

Derek's head shot up and looked fearful. Stiles laughed.

"Relax I'm not about to get out the whips, whenever you try something new both partners have to have a way out. Besides I've always wanted to make a safe word."

Derek nodded then smirked. "So whips later?"

Stiles returned the smile. "Whips later. Now think. Hm... how bout, 'This is private property.'"

Derek swatted Stiles' ass then grabbed it. "You're damn right this is. But it's too long."

"Wait I have it. Miguel."

Derek looked unimpressed.

"Too bad it's Miguel now. You shouldn't have been a smartass."

Derek gave him the eyebrows that meant, 'Look who's talking.'

"Do we have any no goes? Mine would be don't call yourself daddy. I have a healthy relationship with my father, thank you."

Derek was quiet for a bit. "Don't lick my abs."

Derek looked small.

Stiles gave an acknowledging and encouraging nod.

"I like it a lot when you kiss up them, but don't lick up."

Stiles nodded again before he leaned down and pecked him three times up his chest and kisses his lips for longer. "Okay."

"One other thing?"

Stiles grabbed Derek's hand and kissed the back of it. "Anything."

"You fuck me."

All the breath was knocked out of Stiles and Derek was overwhelmed by the scent of lust pouring out of Stiles.

"Yo-you want me to fuck you? Just clarifying. Making sure I didn't just hear wrong. Yes. Totally. For sure. Abso-fuckin-lutely."

"It's just I never have done it that way. And I mean I don't really know how to do not caveman sex, so why not start here. And I trust you."

"You don't have to justify yourself, and you don't have to answer, but why haven't you ever?"

Derek shrugged. "People assume I'm always a dominant top, and no one I've ever dated asked. It's okay though I know what I look like, so I'm okay with being top and giving-"

Stiles shook his head. "Just because you're the top it doesn't mean you can't get things out of sex."

Derek nodded. "I- okay. And I guess it's also because if they see me and they don't want me to screw them, they want to screw me as a power trip. Like if they could top me it makes them more, and I don't like that. My wolf really doesn't like it. So I haven't. Well mean she was dominant, Kat-"

"Uh uh nope stop right there. If I'm to get it up at all tonight we aren't talking about her whatsoever. We can, but not tonight." Stiles got serious as he ran his fingers through Derek's hair. "Tonight is about you, me, us, and sex. Happy sex. Good sex. Lots of sex."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Is that all you think about."

"What no!" Stiles said in a faux affronted tone. "I also think about you..." Stiles batted his eyelashes. "And having sex with you."

Derek shifted in the bed and made a face.

"What was the purpose of those eyebrows?"

"What do you mean they're my eyebrows."

Derek did an eyebrow wiggle. Stiles had a small amused smile.

"No, I mean the face you made. You made a face a couple times just now. When I sai- Oh my God! Derek does the word sex make you uncomfortable?!" Stiles seemed amused.

Derek groaned and leaned forward to press his face into Stiles' neck. "Maybe." Stiles laughed.

"Why?"

Derek pulled his face back to look at Stiles with a look of cute confusion. "I don't know it just sounds too biological or medical."

"So you prefer fucking?"

Derek scrunched his nose. "Screwing and fucking sound like I'm gonna leave you in an alley."

"Well then what would you prefer," Stiles snorted. "Love-making?"

Derek's cheeks burned.

Stiles' eyes went wide.

"Wait no-"

"Oh my god!"

"Stiles no. I didn't mea-" Derek was cut off by Stiles crashing his lips into Derek's.

"I love it." Stiles kissed him again, but this time starting to lovingly caress Derek's tongue with his own, unlike any fast and biting kiss they'd shared before. Stiles moved his hands down Derek's shoulders and continued languidly down his body till one of his hands lightly started stroking Derek's cock.

When they parted they were both breathless, but somehow Derek was struggling more. Derek had his eyes on Stiles' puffy flushed spit coated lips.

"Derek?"

Derek met his eyes.

"I want to make love to you."

That's all it took for Stiles to feel Derek harden again completely under his touch.

"Yes."

Stiles couldn't quite tell if it was permission or a plea. "Okay do you want to ride me so you are on to-"

"No. I want to be under you."

Stiles knew how much that meant from a wolf, especially an alpha and it affected him as if he was one too. Stiles could feel his dick already wanting to fuck Derek senseless, but he got the feeling Derek had never made love to anyone and Stiles wanted to be that person.

Derek was staring at his mouth hungrily.

"Do you want me to blow you?"

"I love your mouth, but we've done that before." It looked as if it pained him to say no, but Derek's words were coming easier and more truthful.

"So you want to do something we haven't done before?"

Derek nodded, unsure, after a bit.

"Do you have something in mind?"

Derek shook his head no.

"I- I want to- Maybe just-"

Stiles smirked. "Derek do you want to experiment in bed?"

His cheeks flushed in just the perfect shade to let Stiles know how right he was.

"Do you want to have super kinky sex?"

"No! Well I guess. I just want to try something that isn't just this goes there."

"This goes there?" Stiles teased.

"You know what I mean." He snapped. Stiles put his hands up placatingly. Then one dropped down to stroke Derek's dick again.

"Relax babe. I'm not making fun of you, just light teasing. Besides," Stiles took one of Derek's hands and placed it on his dick. "I think you can feel I am also interested in something new."

Derek teasingly swiped his thumb over the tip of Stiles' cock, something he learned days into their relationship that he loves.

He sucked in a breath. "Toys?" Stiles lifted a questioning brow as he spoke.

Derek turned red. "Do you even have any?"

"Not here. This is your loft. Where are yours?"

Derek flushed more.

"If you blush anymore tonight you might as well stay that color... I've always thought red suits you." Stiles gave a conspiratorial smirk.

His eyes flashed red at the compliment.

"How am I more embarrassed to talk about and get sex toys than my teenage boyfriend."

"Legal, say legal or it's creepy."

"Legal."

"Good boy. See now we can do this, and a good thing I think I'm starting to get blue balls" He kissed Derek as he manhandled him to the center of the bed. Stiles laid on top of him as they kissed and stroked each other.

Stiles broke the kiss. "Do you trust me?"

It was out of his mouth as soon as Stiles finished speaking. "Yes."

"Turn over."

His words sent a jolt up Derek's spine.

Stiles moved to make room for him to move.

He did.

Somehow he felt more bare like this. Not knowing where Stiles was, or what he was doing. He expected to hear the lube cap, but he didn't. He expected a slap on his ass maybe, for swatting Stiles earlier.

He could feel him settling in between his legs.

Maybe Stiles would bite his ass hard enough to draw blood to mark him. Or maybe Stiles would raw him with no warning to see what he would do. He hoped he didn't take the kinky thing too far and he didn't suddenly feel warm piss on his back. That is definitely in the no gos. Maybe he should look back and mention it.

Just as he was about to he spoke. "I want to rim you. Is that okay?"

Derek expected a lot of things, but he did not expect that. And he definitely did not expect to be asked. He was so surprised his dick almost forgot to react, almost.

"I already said I want you to fuck me, I said yes. You don't have to ask. Fuckin hell, especially not for that!"

He heard a frustrated sad noise before he felt a comforting weight drape across his back.

Stiles kissed the back of his neck and hugged him from behind, which was a kind of an awkward position.

"Yes I do have to ask. You can't just give blanket permission in the bedroom when you don't know your partner sexually yet. I'll always ask. So can I?"

Derek lilted his head up for a kiss. "Yes."

After their kiss Stiles was gone again. He didn't hear the cap, but he felt the cool plastic of the lube bottle against his leg. Then he felt the warmth of Stiles in between his legs, but chills and bumps raced up his legs as Stiles danced his long delicate fingers down his thighs. Stiles started to knead his ass and he could already tell he was stretched too thin he was not going to last long, not if Stiles kept being this gentle. He started leaving lovebites, that faded within moments, on his inner thighs.

Derek felt calm.

Derek jolted, not realizing kneading had turned to spreading, and now there was a smooth slick tongue lapping at his hole.

The sound he made was inhuman, but Stiles didn't mind.

It seemed like he had made a game of seeing how far he could stretch his hole with his tongue without dipping in or how many times he could go around. Derek couldn't tell if it was entirely comfortable or was going to be the best thing ever. Stiles slowly swept a wide stripe up and Derek made an inpatient growling noise.

Once Stiles began fucking his tongue in and out feverishly and then with his fingers Derek quickly decided it was the best ever. Derek started moaning loudly, and Stiles was a quick study of what made him the loudest. Stiles had his face smushed up against him as he ate him out like he was the last eggroll at a buffet. He could feel his face, and his hot breath, and the spit rolling down. He could feel him, but god he could smell Stiles reeking of sex and happiness.

His boyfriend was happy because he was doing something that made Derek happy. His claws were ripping the sheets and started to dig into the mattress.

"Please. Fuck. Please touch me Stiles." Derek whined.

"Stiles! Stiles! Fuck Stiles!"

He took his name as a sign he was doing well and another plea so he crooked his fingers.

"Stiles!" Derek came with a pillow muffled shout of Stiles' name.

Stiles startled back. "Holy fuck!"

Derek was breathing heavy. "Sorry."

Stiles could tell if he had more breath he'd continue. "Sorry? Are you kidding Der? I just made you come with my tongue and fingers up your ass! That is the most awesome sex thing I have ever done!"

"We have different definitions of awesome." Derek's face was still smushed to the pillow.

Stiles looked skeptical. "Are you trying to tell me you didn't like it? Because I'm pretty sure you did." Stiles sat up on to his knees so he could massage Derek's shoulders.

"No I loved it, I'm just not so sure it was great for you."

"Are you kidding? I loved having you writhing under me."

Derek shivered.

He remembered what Derek said earlier and what he just said could come off a little power trippy.

"I mean, knowing I was pleasing you was great." He seemed to have known what he meant.

He moaned as his muscles relaxed.

"I'll be right back."

That seemed to crash him out of his post orgasmic bliss. "Where are you going?"

Stiles placed a kiss to his forehead. "Right back." Derek watched his beautiful naked ass walk from one dresser to his closet.

"What are you loo-"

"Found it!" Stiles triumphantly held up a bottle of eucalyptus lotion. "Why was it in your closet?"

"It's not ready to say it's gay yet."

"Har har. Seriously Derek its weird. Who keeps lotion in their closet."

"You checked the closet."

Stiles threw the lotion at his back. Before jumping right on his ass facing his legs.

"Oof."

"I think you're getting too far away from the glow, you're starting to get mouthy."

"Look who's talking." Stiles squirted the cold lotion right onto the back of Derek's thighs.

"Cold!"

"Ha! You bastard." Stiles began rubbing it in and soothing his muscles.

He worked his way all the way down to his feet and back up.

Stiles mixed the lube and lotion and circled his finger before pushing in easily. Before he had gotten up to two fingers and his tongue. He quickly added a second as Derek let out a content hum of approval. He kissed all up Derek's back after adding a third finger.

Derek was ready and whining for him and he was aching with the need to be inside of him, but he wanted this to be perfect for Derek. Derek needed to know sex could be about him, and not just a weapon or tool.

"I can't wait to feel you. You are perfect. I could stare at you all day. I could fuck you all day, just to see what makes you moan my name the loudest. I think I could make you orgasm so hard you black out. I could make you feel so good. I will make you feel good Der. I promise."

"Fuck you were made for this. Those fingers, and that ass, and fuck don't get me started on that mouth. If it isn't doing dirty things it's saying them."

Derek was always quiet, Stiles was the loud one. He never expected him to dirty talk him back, and that's what made him loose it. Derek made a shocked noise at the loss, but was silenced by the crinkle of a packet.

"Werewolf. Don't need condom." It was like his mind couldn't speak properly.

"I know darling, but it's easier to clean up. Unless you want a buttload of my cum."

Derek stuttered out, "N-no co-condom."

At that Stiles grabbed the base of his dick, because he waited too long and he honestly didn't know if that would shoot him over the edge. "Jesus christ Derek! If I was a werewolf you would've killed me by now."

Derek could hear the cap popping off the lube and slick noises. He expected to feel the press of Stiles' dick, but he felt his still slightly slicked hand slap his leg. "Roll over."

"What? Is that a dog joke?"

"Roll over. I need to see you. I need to look into those beautiful eyes as I wreck you."

Derek obliged.

"There we go."

Fucking finally Derek feels Stiles slide into him. They both let out moans of bliss and satisfaction.

Stiles started to speak as he waited for Derek to adjust. "Oh god Derek! I'm not going to last long you feel so good. Oh god look at you. God Der you look so beautiful right now. I would take a picture, but I don't ever want anyone to see you like this. How you are for me. All laid out and wanting. God you don't know what you do to me."

Derek mumbled his own words along with Stiles'.

Derek started moving his hips so Stiles started to shallowly move in and out. He made inpatient noises. When that went unanswered he pulled Stiles' hair and started thrusting up.

"No." Stiles pinned his arms above his head. "Keep these here."

Derek frantically shook his head. "No. Can't. Need to touch you. Can't Stiles."

"Keep them there," Stiles said sternly.

Derek whined and reached for the bedside table, he dug around in the drawer before coming back with a pair of handcuffs. Stiles could tell they were coated in wolfs bane. Flashes of a cruel blond chaining Derek clouded his mind.

"No." Stiles still had the stern, but now mixed with an edge. Stiles threw the cuffs across the room and pinned his hands down once again with one weak hand. "You keep them there not because of those, because of this," Stiles kissed him full with emotion neither of them were sure they were ready to say.

"Keep them there because I asked you to, not because I made you."

After he spoke he tenderly kissed him again. When Stiles pulled away Derek didn't know when Stiles had moved one hand firmly to his hips and the other to lightly stroke his dick, but his arms weren't moving regardless. Derek had tears in his eyes from that kiss.

"God so beautiful, so perfect. I wish I could see you like this forever. Stretched beneath me like I deserve to be able to touch you. You're so good to me, for me. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met. God look at you, you take care of your pack so well. You're a good alpha. My alpha is so beautiful." Derek's eyes bled crimson. "He takes care of me so well, I take care of him too. Der, you take care of me so well. Let me take care of you. Let go Derek."

Stiles' control was slipping. He started thrusting and jacking Derek off faster.

"Look at you. God. I love this. I wish I could see you like this all the time. I wish you always looked like I just got done making love to you. So beautiful."

Derek came with a deep roar and Stiles could see his half shifted face and claws with tears streaking down his face. Stiles collapsed into Derek's neck and breathed out heavily as he fucked Derek through his orgasm. He finally let go with a shout of Derek's name. Derek pulled him as deep as he would go as he came.

They laid there breathing heavily in each others arms for what seemed like hours and mere seconds at the same time.

"We should've been doing that years ago."

Derek nodded into Stiles neck.

"Woot woo! Batman finally got some." Erica ruffled his hair. Boyd rolled his eyes, but gave him that head nod of respect thing.

The pack had a weird thing about sex. Because everyone instantly knew everything it wasn't a big deal and they talked about it.

"Dude! How come you didn't text me?!"

"Bro I just got done having sex with Derek, you coming over for pack night in an hour?"

Scott wrinkled his nose. "Okay I see your point." Allison smiled at Scott's stupidity, and gave Stiles a thumbs up.

"So did you stop planning out our wedding and the names of our kids?"

"Leave Jake and Dia out of this, but yes I don't think you're the most perfectest person in the world anymore." Lydia looked shocked and a bit hurt like she never expected him to move on. He grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. "Close second though my dear." She smiled and it seemed like a slight against her perfection she could handle.

"If I ever get bumped to third I will bury someone."

"Noted."

Cora glared and said, "He's my brother."

"Yup. Sure is."

"Don't mess him up." If they were talking about anyone else he would've thought she meant don't mess it up, but knowing his ex's she meant don't hurt him in a way he can't heal.

"He's already messed up." Her eyes narrowed. "I just hope I can take care of him long enough for him to realize that he's worth taking care of himself. And if he lets me, even after that."

She gave a sort of half smile. "Mom would've hated you." Stiles' heart sank. "But Laura and dad would've loved you. They would've gotten her to come around."

He knew how much that meant. When he spoke his voice was thick. "Thanks."

"Thank you." She nodded towards where Derek was hiding in his room.

"If you ever need a man with more... experience just le-"

"I will kill you... again."

"Well that would be unpleasant. Especially since I couldn't see my nephew glow whenever you walk into a room."

He looked interested in the non-existent dirt under his nails.

"Hurt one of the two living family members I have left and I will hurt you. And if my nephew is being more than his usual pig brained self let me know I'll hurt him."

"Thanks... I guess? Now go away you're creepy." Peter slunk away.

Isaac took him by complete surprise. He hugged him and buried his nose in his neck.

"Um I'm sorry are we friends... or even not hate each other now that I'm screwing Derek?"

"Sorry you just smell like him when he's happy."

"Do I have to worry about you stealing both of our sheets so you can smell my boyfriend's jizz?"

Isaac looked like he was about to retch. "No! Not like that! Not like sex happy! Just happy happy!" Stiles sniffed his shirt, he will never get used to people telling him about smells he can't smell.

He smiled at the thought that he made Derek happy. "Oh okay well cool. Thanks bud." He ruffled Isaac's curls which wasn't met with immediate dismemberment so, progress. Yay!

Derek finally came down so they could start.

Halfway through the meeting Jackson burst in like he owned the place with a, "What's up dipshits?"

They tried to resume, but he kept interrupting.

"Along the northern sid-"

"Whoa whoa. Wait!"

There were eye rolls all around. This has to be like the eighth time.

"Did Stilinski actually get fucked? Wow, what poor bastard took one for the team?" Jackson was smirking, but no one else found it funny.

"Shut the hell up Jackson." Scott snapped.

"Really. We know you have to be a douche, but why not do it on non meeting hours. We have more important issues than your fragile ego and masculinity." Stiles could always count on Erica to get dirty when he needed her.

Jackson's nose flared. He was still a bit slow with identification of people, but he was good with emotions, how ironic.

"Seriously? Wow Derek, if I'd known my alpha was that desperate I'd have taken you to The Jungle myself."

Stiles rolled his eyes, but the pack looked defensive and Derek looked murderous.

Jackson better shut up.

"I know a few cheap whores."

Derek was lunging before anyone even registered what he said, all except Stiles. He moved in between the two stopping Derek in his tracks by a hand on his chest.

"Aww are you gonna protect me from your boyfriend?"

Derek bared his fangs.

"He's not worth it. Last week his mom and dad flew out the day before his birthday and he stormed out of our party so he's probably still sore."

Jackson saw red. "Oh yeah you, little bitch, well at least I'm not so pathetic I had to beg my own alpha to fuck me."

Derek's eyes were flashing red, but Jackson was too focused on Stiles, and he was standing now.

"Jackson stop."

"Oh why Lydia? Do you feel bad for him because of his little boy crush?"

Jackson turned back to Stiles. "He probably felt indebted to you because you're weak and nothing."

Stiles holding Derek's gaze steady was all that was holding him back.

"How sad you are Stilinski, but you probably take it real good."

Derek would've leapt. He would've torn him to shreds of not for the fear that Stiles would defend himself. Tell them that it was Derek that took it. Derek their alpha took it up the ass from the weak human pack member and cried when he came. Derek was frozen he saw his pack in a flurry of motion screaming and pointing fingers at Jackson. Boyd the only one daring to hold back Erica. Slinging insults, but none of them dared harm a pack member without orders.

Orders he wasn't giving. Because he was frozen in place by how weak he was.

Everything snapped back into place all at once and the screaming grated his ears till they all stopped at the sound of laughter.

It was Stiles. Was it crying? No, he was laughing. Maniacally.

"You know what Jackson? I did take it from him, and he gave it to me good. Harder, better than you ever could for anyone. And he fucked me like you could never understand, and never get the way you are right now- with care."

Stiles got more and more worked up till he was shouting.

"So go ahead call me no better than a whore, but the only one getting a cheap fuck here is you!"

"Sure. Whatever Stilinski, whatever helps your pathetic ass sleep."

And then Jackson did something stupid. He got Stiles angry. Not upset, not disappointed, not sad.

Angry.

He looked at Derek and said, "Man someone really fucked you up for you to want Stilinski."

"That is enough!" Stiles yelled with fury and power.

"You know what Jackson? I feel pity for you. You're just a piece of shit who likes to pretend they're a worth while person sometimes. I'm done with it! For all your barbs and jokes at my expense do you know who the only person keeping you in this pack is?"

Jackson scoffed and looked around like can you believe this guy to be met with confirmation of its truth.

Jackson sobered a bit at that, but then his venom was back.

"So what I've finally pissed you off enough I'm kicked out? Hallelujah."

"You don't seem to get it Jackson. Lydia broke up with you because you don't deserve her, you're shifting between a werewolf and kanima because you can't get that poison out of your veins, Danny your best friend wants nothing to do with you because you are such a douche, the team won't talk to you, and your parents leave you-"

Stiles could see the crack in Jackson's perfect face at that.

"Because they don't see what kind of person you could be if you had someone who wouldn't give up on you."

All the air, confidence, and superiority left him in one big whoosh.

"I- I- I don't understand?"

Stiles sighed. "No, you don't. You have no one Jackson. No one that cares about you, the real you. No one that loves you for who you are completely. Look at us. This pack is filled with nobodies. People who don't have people. People who do, but there'll always be something they can't accept or know about, but not here. We are what the others need. We are a pack. We have people because we chose each other. Understand this, you have no one, but you could. You could have a pack. It's your choice whether or not you're willing to work for it. You choose, but know if you walk out that door it won't open for you again. So choose." Stiles looked impatient.

"Now!" Stiles shouted forcefully. Derek flinched, still being close to him.

"Stay."

"What? Sorry weak human hearing."

"I want to stay."

"Yeah I know you want to stay, but are you willing to?"

"Yes."

Stiles nodded. "Good. Now apologize to your alpha. You were rude, disrespectful, and insulting. Don't make me make you do it twice, because you've only got one shot."

"Derek I am sincerely sorry for my actions. I was disrespectful and I'm sorry. I will do whatever it takes to make up for my actions." When it was clear he was done Derek and Jackson both looked at Stiles to see if it was enough.

He rolled his eyes. "Sit down and shut the fuck up."

The meeting finished without a peep from Jackson, but the entire time Derek felt his guts twisting. He felt the shame of not standing up for his boyfriend. The guilt of not dealing with his own beta. And most of all he felt the fear of Stiles being angry at him for not correcting him. Derek decided what to do.

"Alright that is all for this week's pack meeting. You guys know the rules." As people started to get up he added on. "Oh and Stiles fucked me." Immediately he could tell that was not the right thing to do. Everyone froze, Stiles looked at him with wide eyes, and he felt himself turn very red. "I just thought everybody should know that."

"Oh no, I could've lived my entire life not knowing that." Cora said with a look of disgust and disappointment as she scrubbed a hand down her face.

Stiles was next. "No, Derek! Everyone should not have know that!" Stiles threw his hands out to his sides and walked closer. He whispered to Derek. "Look is this like some type of voyeurism?"

"Dude ew."

"Dereeek that's gross."

"Keep me out of your kinks."

"Count me and Boyd in."

Derek shouted, "What!? No!" He looked stricken. "I just thought I should set the record straight, and I felt bad for not doing it earlier! I just didn't want you to get mad. Are you mad?"

Stiles cupped his cheek and smiled. "I am not mad. It's kinda sweet in a messed up way."

Stiles cocked his head. "A really really messed up way."

"M'kay can we get back to how we're going to deal with this?"

[halevetica]

Same Old Song and Dance

Being trapped in the middle of the woods with an alpha werewolf was not part of Stiles' plan. In fact he hadn't planned to be in the woods at all, but of course when he gets a call from Allison saying that she's tracking a rogue and could use the help, he doesn't hesitate. Allison is the closest thing he has to family and he'd do anything for her, which is how he finds himself in the woods at dusk with a full moon only hours away, searching for the huntress.

The air was already starting to cool without the sun's rays to keep it warm. Pulling his jacket up around him, Stiles scanned the brushy underground for any of Allison's signature traps. Spotting only three, he carefully maneuvered around them. He only wondered if the alpha would be able to spot them as easily as he had. Sure, Stiles was a trained hunter and knew Allison's traps like the back of his hand, but the alpha had been hunted for years and yet still was untouched by any hunter.

Stiles had only been hunting the alpha for nearly a year. It was like a game to the werewolf. Stiles was sure one of them should have killed the other by now and yet they both continued this dance.

The deeper Stiles got into the woods the darker it became, the trees shielding what little light was left in the sky. His hands clasped around the hilts of his twin daggers that sat tucked into his thigh holsters, one on each leg. If Allison were with him, she would be going on about how he should really learn to use a bow. Hunters rarely used guns when going after their prey, it drew too much attention with how loud they were. Stiles preferred his ten inch double edge Damascus daggers.

"Awfully late of you to be out here alone."

Stiles froze at the all too familiar voice. He slowly pulled his blades from their spots.

"Oh put those away, you and I both know you aren't going to use them," The alpha's voice was louder.

Stiles turned to see the familiar red eyes.

"Derek Hale," Stiles spoke between clenched teeth.

"Stiles Stilinski, we meet again," Derek's eyes faded from their alpha red as he stepped forward.

Stiles made no move to attack, but his blades were at the ready just in case Derek did.

"What are you doing in my woods at nightfall on the night of a full moon? Tired of your simplistic hunter life already?" Derek quirked a brow.

"Hunting a rogue," Stiles answered vaguely. He wouldn't let Derek know that Allison was out here alone and in need of his help.

"Ah, yes, the lone wolf causing mayhem. I've taken care of him," Derek looked up at the sky as if trying to spot the still rising moon.

Stiles frowned. "Taken care of him?"

"Like I told you before, I'm not the bad guy here," Derek's tone was easy, as if he were talking to an old acquaintance and not a deadly enemy.

Stiles scoffed in response.

"Did you do what I asked?" Derek turned his eyes back to Stiles. It was getting too dark to see but Stiles knew them to be a soft green color.

"Why would I?" Stiles snapped. He didn't like to be told what to do, especially by some mutant dog.

"Why wouldn't you?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the Werewolf.

"Unless, it's because you're afraid of what you'll find. You know there's a chance I'm right and you can't stand the thought of it."

Stiles' patience was waning, and he knew it.

"You're wrong," Stiles spoke between grit teeth. He knew attacking from the front would only get him hurt, he would have to wait for Derek's guard to drop further or for him to attack.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" Stiles asked. The alpha could have snuck up on him and weakened him. Instead he chose to talk.

"Why haven't you killed me?" Derek countered.

"I know a losing fight when I see it," Stiles answered honestly. He knew Derek would hear his lie so there was no sense in trying.

"It burns you to know that I'm right here an you can't kill me, doesn't it?" Derek taunted, taking a half step forward.

Stiles took a step back. If Allison weren't out here alone, maybe he would try and take on the alpha, but Allison was more important.

"Does it not burn you to know that you can't kill me?" Stiles' tone was cocky and confident despite his unease.

Derek smiled, "Your wolfsbane dipped blades are no match for me."

"You really don't think so?" Stiles smirked. He could see the hesitation on Derek's face. They both knew this fight was far too equal. They'd done it already. Both bruised and bloodied until one of them became outnumbered by arriving backup, forcing them to retreat.

"It's the same old song and dance, Derek."

"Then perhaps it's time we changed the tune," Derek stepped forward lifting his hands as if in surrender.

Stiles frowned, refraining from taking another step back. "What are you doing?"

"If you truly think that there is no truth to what I say, then kill me, but if there is even a hesitation..." Derek was now less than two feet from Stiles.

A swipe with his left blade would sever the alpha's carotid artery in a second. Derek would likely bleed out before he could heal, but just to be sure, Stiles' right blade would plant nicely into Derek's heart. Even if his neck healed in time and he pulled out the blade in his heart, the wolfsbane would end him.

"I can see you planning how you would do it, and yet you haven't," Derek took another half step forward.

"Take another step and I will," Stiles refused to let Derek get too much closer, at this range he had a chance. Any closer and he wouldn't be able to escape any attack the alpha tried.

"Do what I said," Derek's tone was almost pleading.

"Why are you so insistent I do this?" Stiles demanded. He hated the part of him that wanted to know if Derek was right. He hated the part of him that wanted to trust this monster.

"Because I don't want to be your enemy, Stiles."

Stiles swallowed.

"I know you're curious about how you escaped the woods last year."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. He and Allison had gotten ambushed by a pack they had been hunting. They got the wrong intel and found themselves surrounded. He and Allison got separated and the back up found her. Stiles had been knocked unconscious and when he woke on Allison's couch, she had said she found him on her front porch. She assumed he drug himself out of the woods, but he knew that wasn't the case. He never told her otherwise.

"I suppose you're going to tell me that it was you who left me on Allison's door?" Stiles sneered.

"It was," Derek answered as if it was some safe guarded secret.

Stiles had suspected but had no proof and couldn't understand why Derek would do that; so instead he tried convincing himself he had done as Allison said, and dragged himself out.

"The pack that attacked you was not mine. I would never have-" Derek cut himself off. His eyes skipping past Stiles.

The hunter knew the alpha had heard something.

"Do what I said. Find out what really happened that night. Find out who really set that fire and who was inside."

"Stiles?" Allison's voice called. "Is that you?"

Stiles turned to see the huntress emerge from the woods.

"What's the matter?" She asked, noticing his unsheathed blades.

Stiles looked back to see Derek was gone. He shoved the blades back into their place. "Nothing. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a few scrapes," Allison nodded.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Stiles grabbed Allison by the elbow and gently pulled her towards the way he'd come.

"Wait, what about the rogue?" Allison frowned, though she didn't fight against him.

"He's been taken care of."

"What? How do you know?"

"Just trust me, come on," Stiles' eyes scanned the woods, as he pulled Allison towards the safety of the town. He knew Derek was nearby; he could feel the alpha's eyes on him, even if he couldn't see them.

**For the sterek week prompt: Outdoors

I had so much fun with this one I might make it into a full story...Let me know if you’d be interested!

Update: I turned it into a full story which you can find here!

Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!

[tabbytabbytabby]

Disney Movie Night Aesthetic for @sterekweek2019 Day 4: Movie Night

[sterekweek-2024]

Hey hey Sterek Fans! Today is the day that we announce our 2019 Sterek Week Schedule!! Without further ado, here’s the theme schedule for this year’s Sterek Week!

Friday October 25th- Mystery: Who doesn't love a good mystery? Be it a serious murder mystery, a film noir, or just wondering who stole the last cookie, we ask you to get creative and give us a mystery to solve! .. Or, for Stiles and Derek to solve, or even for someone else to solve ABOUT Stiles and Derek, really, we're not picky, as long as there's a mystery element, you've got this covered!

Saturday October 26th- Lyrics and Quotes: This is one theme that can truly, easily bridge across any fanwork medium with ease, be it a video set to music, a songfic, graphics covered in quotes, or art inspired by lyrics, let your imagination run free with any words that inspire you! They can be dark, light, romantic, angsty, from fiction or real life, there are no limits, and CERTAINLY feel free to include more than one if you’re so inspired!

Sunday October 27th- Outdoors: Ah the great outdoors... or.. not so great, if you're in the world of Teen Wolf- the outdoors can be a source of relaxation and joy, from running through the woods to looking at the stars... or horror and tragedy, from finding a dead body to getting chased by hunters, you can use any type of genre or tone you want to portray this one, just as long as the outdoors are heavily featured!

Monday October 28th- Movie Night: Possibly the most relaxing experience, it's time to let Stiles and Derek off the hook from terror and give them a movie night! .. Unless that movie night INDUCES terror, also possible... October in particular is a great season for movie watching, with the cold just beginning and all sorts of things airing for Halloween, from cutesy kid flicks to terrifying horror movies, time to have a night in and enjoy a movie!

Tuesday October 29th- Scene Stealer: Take a scene, any scene, from any show/book/movie, and Sterek it! Do Stiles and Derek have to stop Thanos from getting the Infinity Gauntlet? Maybe Stiles is an exceptional assassin… with an exceptional desire for Detective Derek Hale? Do the two of them take part in the annual Purge? Or maybe they both want to save the world of their favorite virtual reality? Maybe someone can fix that Bleach redux, if you’ve ever thought “Hey this scene would have been SO much better with Sterek..” then this is the theme for you!

Wendsday October 30th- Canon Highlights: We know, we know, canon can be a fickle beast, and we all have things about it that we don't like... but we all have things about that we DO like as well, otherwise, we never would have gotten into Sterek in the first place! If it weren't for canon, Stiles and Derek never would have existed, and there's certainly something to be said for the show that created a couple- even if it didn't canonize them- that's endured so strong for so long, it's time to pay tribute to the birthplace of this ship and highlight your favorite moment from canon! Or modify a moment, that's fine too! Choose a moment that made you fall in love with Sterek and draw it out, or a moment that you wished had MORE Sterek and write your version of what should have happened, all that matters is that the scene in question originated from canon

Thursday October 31st- Halloween: Our last day this year is my personal favorite day of every year: Halloween!! From ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties, let your love for Sterek rule the night! The best part of Halloween themes is that you can use the actual holiday as Halloween for your theme- picking out costumes, trick or treating, and carving pumpkins, or you can just use what Halloween REPRESENTS- the celebration of all things magic, haunted, and living in the shadows, or hey, you can always combine it! You could also mix Halloween mythologies and modern day Halloween, maybe something special happens to werewolves on Halloween, maybe the Hales have always had a history of Halloween parties and some wicked pixies take over, maybe Stiles goes to the woods as Little Red Riding Hood and his Big Bad Wolf is waiting there for him… this may be the end of Sterek Week this year, but mark my words, as long as there is Halloween, there will be Sterek Week!

We’re so excited to announce these themes, and even more excited to see your work in October! Now that the themes are here, it’s time to start your engines, and gear up for Sterek Week 2019!!

[ravenclawkward-art]

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Santa Monica

*Slides in three days late with my first fic in 84 years*

For Sterek Week Day 2, Music & Lyrics. Inspired by Santa Monica by Everclear (one of my favorite bands ever). I've wanted to use this song for a Sterek fic for ages, and it was supposed to be mostly happy. This isn't really that, even though it is a happy ending, it ended up way angsty for such a short thing (I may eventually write that happier version, but who knows, really).

(I may have cried a little writing this, but I'm kinda a mess lately, so you probably won't.)

The previously muted noise of the party filters out at full volume into the still night air for a brief moment as the sliding door opens and shuts again, and Derek takes a deep breath to steady himself upon recognizing Stiles' heartbeat. He lets a lungful of Stiles' scent wash through him, and readjusts his arms where they're propped against the railing of the Stilinski's deck.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," Stiles says sincerely, settling into the space next to Derek, despite the fact that the entire deck is empty; there was a time, long enough ago that it seems practically unreal, when that would have pissed him off, but it's been ages since he's felt anything but comfort in Stiles' proximity.

"Looks like you did a pretty good job, then," Derek teases, just to hear Stiles' snort.

Stiles bumps their shoulders together, and then doesn't move away, and it's kind of torture, but Derek can never bring himself to break contact when Stiles offers it so easily. Just like he can't bring himself to tell him how much it means to him--how much Stiles means to him--and how much he craves both him and his touch. 

"Y'know, you have a habit of sneaking out of my parties, Der. If I were a less secure guy, I'd think you didn't think my accomplishments were worth celebrating," Stiles says, mostly sincerely, but Derek knows there's a thread of uncertainty underneath the joking and the bravado, even six years out of high school, Stiles occasionally forgets his confidence.

Derek leans into Stiles' shoulder more heavily, sliding over so their arms are touching, too. He debates telling him the truth--that celebrating another thing that's taking Stiles away from Beacon Hills, away from him, hurts enough that he needs to step away to keep himself grounded. He settles on a half-truth. "Just needed some air, you know I'm proud as hell of you, Stiles."

Derek hears Stiles exhale deeply, and then Derek's heart skips a beat as Stiles relaxes fully against Derek's side, his head resting on Derek's shoulder and his free arm wrapping around to fiddle with the sleeve of Derek's jacket. Derek lets himself pretend for a minute, that he gets to keep Stiles like this, and rests his cheek on the top of Stiles' head.

They're both quiet for a few long minutes, and when Stiles breaks the silence, the words squeeze around Derek's heart. 

"Um, Santa Monica, is like, really far away," Stiles begins, pulling away gently when he feels Derek stiffen, but he keeps his hand on Derek's wrist as he turns to look at him.

Derek nods, and as much as he'd like to ignore the topic, he turns to face Stiles, careful not to dislodge his hand. "Almost can't be farther." He adds from me, mentally, but he's pretty sure Stiles knows he's thinking it.

Stiles clears his throat, "Yeah. But I was thinking that that night be a good thing."

Before Derek can yank his arm away, Stiles has somehow managed to take Derek's hand in both of his. "Hey, hey, hear me out, okay? Just--"

Derek is frozen. Here feels as though his heart has stopped and his body has somehow stopped getting the giant flashing run run run messages that his brain is sending, because Stiles is about to tell him that he's glad to be getting away from him, and Derek's whole world is about to fall apart. Again.

Stiles is much closer, suddenly, right in front of Derek, their chests separated only by the space created by their clasped hands between them. "Breathe, Derek," Stiles says urgently but softly, and apparently that's what Derek's body needed to get back online, because he can breathe then, even if he still can't think.

"Der," Stiles asks, searching Derek's face as though checking that he's still there, "Come with me."

Derek feels the shock overtake his expression. Stiles' lips quirk ever so slightly upwards, and he continues, "Come with me, Derek. My place is right near the ocean, we can get away from here, leave all the bad stuff behind. We can spend our weekends swimming and counting palm trees, and starting over. Just you and me and the slightly West-er Coast. Say yes."

Derek is frozen for a whole new reason now, it's like he's been sleepwalking, and all of the sudden woken up to a world that's a few shades brighter. He can't do anything but stare at Stiles in wonder and smile.

At least, he thought he was smiling. He may have missed the mark, because Stiles is anxious and a little scared when he adds "Please, Der? I kinda need you to say something, because if you don't I think I might--"

"I need a new suitcase," Derek says, squeezing Stiles' hands and definitely smiling this time.

"A new suitc--" Stiles trails off questioningly before a bright grin blooms on his face, too. He inhales as though he's going to say something else, but it's as though all of Derek's inability to move the past few minutes has given him a new sense of urgency, because before he can speak, Derek is cradling his face in both hands and pressing their lips together.

Stiles doesn't hesitate to respond, going soft and pliant for Derek immediately, like this is something they've done a million times. The kiss is almost chaste, their lips meeting and parting unhurriedly for several long moments, but it's perfect, and when they pull away, they only part enough to be able to look at each other, each wearing matching looks of awe.

"So, that was a yes, right?" Stiles asks after they've been grinning at each other an indeterminate amount of time.

Derek laughs, and it catches him by surprise. "Yeah, Stiles," he says, running his thumb along Stiles' cheek, "Let's live beside the ocean together."

[purpleyin]

Teen Wolf moodboards: Sterek - mystery AU

Made for @sterekweek2019 and Day 1 prompt ‘mystery.’

---

Stiles likes being Agent Stilinski. He likes the thrill of the chase and solving case after case. Turns out, no matter how much his praises are sung by his boss, he likes it too much for the HR department because he gets reluctantly ordered to take a holiday.

You can take the case away from the Stilinski but you can't take the case out of the Stilinski. Or something like that. Stiles does go on holiday. He just might have happened to pick a small town with the aesthetics of a low-budget horror film and four times the amount of missing persons per capita. No biggie. Besides, they have good local beers and a strangely adorable cryptid themed B&B. Stiles checks into The Mothman room and spends his evening drinking while he peruses digitized case-files with his tablet. But then he sees him and a chill goes down his spine as their eyes meet for a second. Then the man is gone, leaving only a nagging sense of recognition.

The bartender tells him the guy's nickname is Blue, he lives out of town in a small cabin by himself, and no one seems to know any more than that. Stiles scours his files for that face and eventually finds it - a much younger, hopeful version with eyes shining out in the photo: Derek Hale. Sole known survivor of a tragic house fire two states over and a decade ago, who disappeared days after, never to be seen again. Until now.

Stiles starts asking around and can't get a clear picture of who he is – half the town believes he's a dangerous lone wolf, and the other half appears indebted to him, convinced he's a man of few words but no shortage of heart.

A week's holiday changes into two, eagerly taken with flimsy excuses as to why. No one else knows what's gotten into him all of a sudden. Stiles never has been able to leave a mystery alone once he's stumbled onto it. He wants to know the truth and the only version of the truth that matters is the one he intends to coax from the wolf's mouth...

[midnightisquiet]

STEREK WEEK 2019: Day 1 - Mystery

[fishcommander]

I Want Strings Attached (Sterek Fic)

Human AU. ~15.6k. Rated T.

Posted for Sterek Week 2019 Day 3: Outside.

∪･ω･∪

"And that," Tall Blonde says, "is why you should really change her collar. It's blue. That's a boy colour." She frowns over at Stiles' dog like Zephyr is causing her physical pain. All Zeph is doing is frolicking, aka doing exactly what a dog is supposed to be doing at the dog park. Stiles has no idea why Tall Blonde is even talking to him. "What if people think she's a boy? What will you do then?" She raises her eyebrows smugly, like she's just raised the most salient of salient points. Like no one could ever even hope to try and refute her logic.

Little does she know, Stiles lives to refute logic.

He squints at her. "Okay, so. Like, you know colours don't have genders, right? Only people can have genders, assuming they want one."

She blinks at him. "Excuse me?"

"Also," he continues, because if college was useful for not much else, it certainly did an amazing job of providing him with even more ways to combat people's bullshit, "gender roles are just a social construct. Blue is a primary colour in the RGB colour model. It lies between violet and green on the spectrum of visible light. It's pretty. But that's all it is. You understand that, right?"

"Um." Um. She's a master debater.

"Especially for dogs, like, they're dogs. Dogs. You get that, right? I wouldn't be shocked if you didn't, but please tell me you at least get that. Like, she," he gestures to his gentle, possessive yes, but mostly sweet eight year old Labrador X Golden Retriever, "isn't gonna care what kind of collar she gets, as long as we still go walkies. Dogs can't even see colours."

Tall Blonde frowns. She seems to recognise there was some sort of insult directed towards her, but it's obvious she has neither the brains nor the balls to engage. "Um. Okay?" She glances about herself for her dog—a purebred poodle in a fairy costume, of fucking course—and quickly makes her way out of the park, refusing to look back at Stiles.

Stiles looks down at Zeph, who's just finished her first round of sniffing and is in the process of writhing around on the grass, probably in something gross that Stiles doesn't wanna know about. He's nudging her head away with the toes of his sneaker, about to ask her if she's done her business yet, when an amused, leading voice sounds from behind him.

"For someone so eager to insinuate someone else is an idiot, that was a pretty idiotic statement."

Stiles stiffens. "Excuse me?"

"They're not really colourblind."

"I know that," he snaps, spinning around. "I'm not an amateur, I know they can still see shades of blue and yell...ow..." He trails off. He doesn't mean to, but it's just what he does around Pretty People. He trails off, falls off, pisses off, takes off, runs off and puts off alllllll the Pretty People. It's a skill, honestly.

The Pretty Man (so very very pretty, dear God) raises an eyebrow. It's magnificent. The most majestic eyebrow Stiles has ever seen, only to be rivalled by his other eyebrow.

Stiles quickly looks away from the eyebrows, but the rest of his body is just as distracting, because he's wearing some sort of jogging attire, and there are leggings involved. Man-leggings—meggings, Tall Blonde would probably call them. They look excellent. There are so many leg muscles on display. Stiles didn't even know that many leg muscles existed. Or that they would be so attractive.

He gulps. Pretty Man's yellow Labrador stares up at him judgmentally from between Pretty Man's legs.

Stiles envies Pretty Man's Labrador.

Read more on AO3!

[jmeelee]

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Stiles and Derek’s Cat

Sterek Week 2019 • Mystery

Rating: T (for swearing and lite innuendo)

Word Count: 2.1 K

***********

Derek flips on his blinker, and the taxi driver riding his ass swerves around the Camaro, rolling down a window and shouting something indecipherable while Derek pulls into the fire lane in front of the airport. His sister walks through the automatic doors as he climbs out and pops the trunk, a parting blast of air conditioning blowing her dark shoulder-length hair around her head like a demonic halo. She’s dressed in an old band t-shirt with a black blazer layered over top, and ripped skinny jeans, one hand gripping the handle of her rolling luggage, the other pressing a ratty book to her chest.

“It seems stupid for a werewolf to be superstitious,” Cora greets, handing Derek the leather-bound album, “but I didn’t want to take the chance of it getting lost in the mail.”

He pulls her close in a one-armed hug; Cora was never the overly affectionate type, but distance and pseudo-death make the heart grow fonder. “I appreciate you lugging it all this way. Stiles has been asking me a lot of family questions since he started emissary training, and I wanted to put some faces to the names he’s been hearing.” Pictures that aren't attached to obituaries, he silently adds.

She tosses her suitcase into the trunk, dusty wheels leaving a streak of dirt across the upholstery, and slams it closed, climbing in through the passenger door Derek holds open. “Alpha Varela had a decent amount, and Alpha Ogden gave me a half-dozen,” she supplies as he slides behind the wheel and pulls out into traffic, “but they only fill up a quarter of the pages. It’s pretty pathetic.”

She reaches out a hand, lovingly runs fingers over the brown cover embossed with a triskelion.

“It is,” Derek concedes, “but it’s better than nothing.” His fingers itch to flip through the meager pages immediately, pour over the pictures like Cora’s been able to do, and bring his long-dead family back to life, but it will have to wait through rush hour traffic and a trip to the pet store. They’re out of cat food, and Agnes Nutter—the stray orange tabby Stiles fell in love with when he started spending so much time with Deaton at the vet clinic, and proceeded to drag home—has been known to take claws to the curtains, leather couches and freshly painted walls when dinner isn’t served on time.

“We’re back!” Derek calls through the front door an hour later, pulling his key out of the lock.

Cora drops two five-pound bags of dry food to the entry-way floor. “How much does this damn cat eat?” She laughs. Derek shrugs, wet food cans clanking in the bags hanging from his hands. The album is tucked securely under his armpit.

“I’m in the family room!” Comes Stiles’ disembodied voice. Derek detours to the kitchen to stock the cat food in the walk-in pantry and Cora heads to the back of the house to greet her brother-in-law. He’s only moments behind her, but when he finally rounds the corner into the family room, his little sister’s face is shifted, snarls twisting out of her throat through elongated teeth, and Stiles is sitting on the couch, eyes wide, laptop in one hand and the other raised, palm out, sparks sizzling along his fingertips. Acrid ozone spikes the air.

“What. The. Hell.”

“I don’t know, dude!” Stiles’ voice trills and Derek doesn’t have the time to admonish his husband for calling him dude. “She rolled in here and didn’t even say hello! Just went all grrrr-” his nose does the scrunchy little thing Derek secretly loves, top teeth bared like an adorably angry hamster- “and scared the shit out of me.”

“It’s that...thing,” Cora rasps, pointing a claw-tipped finger at Agnes Nutter, calmly lording over the room from Stiles’ blanketed lap, like a ginger queen on a throne.

Stiles drops his laptop to the couch cushion, wrapping his now free arm around Agnes, who’s yellow eyes squint in annoyance at the vigorous display of affectionate protection. “What’s your problem with my cat? Does the lupine-feline rivalry actually run that deep?”

“Really, Stiles? Dog jokes? Now?” Derek rubs at a tension headache brewing over his left eyebrow.

“Stiles,” Cora commands through sharp white teeth, “get away from it. It’s a demon.”

Agnes answers the accusation with a charming little “meow,” and rubs a paw over her docked left ear.

“Put your teeth away. She’s my pet!” Stiles shrieks.

“Derek. Get the photo album,” Cora orders.

Derek glances back toward the kitchen. He can see the book sitting on the granite countertop, but is loathe to leave the room. “Is this really the best time for a Hale family history lesson?”

“You bet your hairy ass it is. Go get those pictures. Now.”

Derek’s never been more grateful for supernatural speed. “Here.” He hands the album to his sister, who flips open to the second page, turns the book around and hands it back to him.

At first, Derek’s baffled. What do his unearthed family photos have to do with a c—

An orange and white striped cat that’s sitting on his grandmother’s lap, when she was roughly thirty years old. A cat that twists around his mother’s ankles as she stands on tip-toe to kiss his father on the cheek, while toddler Laura plays in the background. A cat that lingers behind his great-grandfather as he cuts the ribbon at the dedication ceremony for the Beacon Hills preserve. The last photo is in black and white, but this cat, like the others, has a docked left ear.

“Stiles…” Derek looks up at his husband. Agnes stares at him with slanted eyes. He does the math in his head. At least fifty years…

Stiles groans, head lolling on the back of the couch. “Don’t tell me she’s a Flerkin. I knew I should have named her Goose.”

“Not a Flerkin,” Cora says. “But definitely something.”

Agnes jumps off Stiles’ lap and calmly pads over to her empty food dish, flops down next to it, and lets out a loud, piercing howl.

“Get the cat carrier,” Derek says. “We’re going to Deaton’s.”

———-

“Why did you let me adopt a time-traveling cat?!”

Deaton, as usual, says nothing in face of Stiles’ hysterics. Agnes dangles from Stiles’ outstretched arms, held at a forty-five-degree angle like a domesticated lion king. She blinks, whiskers twitching. Derek feels her pain; the overlapping scents of animal, iodine and industrial-grade disinfectant makes him want to hurl.

“I was surprised you even got a cat,” Scott chimes in from the waiting room chair. Having a pet who turns out to be old enough to collect social security merits calling your alpha right away. “I didn’t think you liked them. Remember my old Maine Coon, Louis? You used to pelt him in the ass with spitballs.”

Everyone’s mouths drop collectively, and Stiles reels Agnes back to his chest, hiding part of his blushing cheek in her soft orange fur. “I was seven, Scott! And in my defense, Louis used to bite my toes through my sleeping bag.”

“Well, thank goodness it was in retaliation,” Derek deadpans. “I wouldn’t want to be married to an animal abuser.”

A war plays out on Stiles’ flushed face; narrowed eyes shooting daggers at Derek, while the corner of his generous mouth cocks up. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you the other night.”

“Gross,” Cora bemoans. “Get a room.”

“Already did.” Tucking Agnes under his arm like a football, Stiles holds up his free hand and wiggles his fingers, white-gold wedding band flashing under the fluorescent lights. “Made it legal and everything.”

“Did you bring the photos?” Deaton inquires, enigmatic face as placid as the surface of the little pond in the preserve. Cora hands them over, and everyone watches Deaton slowly flip through the pages, eyes skimming over each picture. “Hum,” he says, laying the album on top of the reception desk, open to the picture of Derek’s parents with Agnes at their feet.

“Hum? That’s all you have to say?” Stiles scoffs.

“I’m surprised at you, Stiles,” Deaton says softly, crossing arms over his lab coat. “I thought you knew what Agnes was when you took her home.”

“Obviously not,” Stiles grumbles. “I’m supposed to be learning from you, aren’t I? One would assume the teacher would tell the student if the class pet was an immortal demon waiting to eat their face off when they fell asleep.”

Derek feels a hysterical giggle crawl up his throat and clamps his lips closed.

Deaton spins the album around to face the waiting room, and Scott extricates his butt from the chair to creep closer. Deaton taps the top right corner of the Hale’s photograph. “I took this picture in nineteen-eighty-eight. Derek,” he says, glancing up into his face, “your parents had just gotten the news they were pregnant with you.”

The giggle threatens to turn into a sob.

“Talia and Sebation celebrated their good fortune with a pack dinner. As you well know-” Deaton turns toward Scott- “emissaries are invited to important pack events.” He turns back to the room at large. “I came that evening, and Agnes, as you are fond of calling her, came with me.” He flips to the picture of Derek’s great-grandfather. “Emissaries protect their alpha’s, so I assume the former Hale pack emissary was somewhere in the crowd during this ceremony.” Deaton blinks, letting the pregnant pause come to full gestation. “Familiars tend to follow witches wherever they go.”

“So…” Cora trails off, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips while she studies Agnes. “She’s a familiar? Familiars are demons, right?”

“Fantastic,” Stiles sighs, shoulders slumping. “We all know my track record with demons.” His face is carefully blank, except for the bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“No concrete evidence exists to say familiars are demons,” Deaton lectures. “In fact, that tends to be an antiquated belief held over from the witch trials. Some believe they are fae, or goblins, sent to assist fledgling witches in the practice of magic. Others believe they’re guardian angels.”

“Ha!” Stiles crows, sticking his tongue out at Cora. “She’s not a demon after all. She’s an angel. Take that!”

“Hey!” Scott helpfully adds. “You could change her name to Aziraphale!” Stiles looks like he’s considering it.

“I’m not trying to rain on the parade,” Derek cuts in, ignoring Stiles’ mumbled Sourwolf, “but you’re saying Agnes is here to help Stiles? She mostly just eats, craps, coughs up hairballs in my shoes and knocks shit off the counters. Like that time she broke the vial of ground-up Mucuna pruriens, and we all broke out in that horrible rash.” Derek’s butt itches just thinking about it.

Scott snaps his fingers, goofy smile stretching across his face. “Yeah! And then Stiles used it to make those smoke bombs we attacked the hunter’s compound with the following month. It’s like she knew exactly what he needed to use.”

Everyone stares at Agnes, baffled and impressed.

“Legends say familiars most often take small animal forms,” Deaton continues, “but some are human-like, or can shape-shift. One was a horse.”

“No,” Derek says to both his husband and Agnes, on the off chance any ideas are forming in their heads. “No horses in the house. We don’t have the room.”

“So, you’ve told us what legends say, and what other people think about familiars.” Stiles bounces on his toes, jostling Agnes. She yowls, and he plops her onto the reception desk next to her portraits. “You’ve been an emissary for years. What do you believe?”

Deaton inhales deeply through his nose, exhales through his mouth. “I believe they’re an extension of our souls.”

Stiles smiles, scritching Agnes behind her mangled ear. “You’re the Pantalaimon to my Lyra. The Salem to my Sabrina. The—” Agnes hoists one leg straight into the air and starts licking her butt.

“Yup.” Cora smirks. “That makes total sense.”

“In conclusion, Stiles, your pet is not a demon who’s waiting to eat your face off. Now, can I please go home for the evening?”

It takes half a bag of treats to coax Agnes back into the cat carrier, and Deaton locks the doors to the clinic on their way out.

“I thought she was a stray,” Stiles says as they all head out into the moonlit night, voice a little wobbly. “I didn’t realize she was... Do you want her back?”

Deaton’s smile is as mystifying as ever. “She’s yours now, Stiles.”

Derek notes that, unsurprisingly, Deaton didn’t actually answer the question.

“One more thing,” Derek says, loading Agnes into the backseat of the Camaro. He’s strangely curious, even though he’s heard what curiosity did to the proverbial cat. “If she was yours for years, you must have given her a name. What was it?” Even arcane Dr. Deaton must be human enough to name his cat. Right?

“Some things,” Deaton answers before he slams his car door, “will have to remain a mystery.”

[thedaughterofkings]

Nobody puts Stiles in a corner

Written for @sterekweek2019​ Days Four and Five: Movie Night and Scene Stealer - I think you can guess which movie I went with!^^

Movie pack nights are Lydia’s idea.

“If we are supposed to grow together as a pack, we need to include group bonding experience that do not have literal death and destruction stakes,” she’d said and amongst all suggestions, watching a movie together had seemed the safest bet. Of course, they’d then all promptly almost come to blows over Lydia’s choice of movie - The Notebook, what else, but once that had been settled, it had been a surprisingly fun experience for all. At first they rotated not just film choice rights, but also hosting duties, but once Derek’s loft boasted the biggest screen of them all, movie nights always ended up there. 

The TV had, inexplicably, been a gift from Stiles.

He’d just turned up one day with it, rambling about something or other that Derek couldn’t follow in his wildest dreams and when he left, Derek had a brand new, huge flat screen TV. That alone probably wouldn’t have made him take note - Stiles had calmed down significantly, but sometimes he just did things and you had to learn to roll with it. But then Lydia had seen the TV and heard it came from Stiles, and she’d had such a knowing look on her face that it drove Derek crazy because he had no clue what said TV had told her. And even more infuriatingly, apparently Stiles could read Lydia’s face as well as Lydia could read Derek’s brand new TV, because he blushed bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears and then quickly disappeared with an absurd excuse to avoid Lydia’s knowing face.

The Sheriff had done his part to complete Derek’s eternal confusion. When Derek had come to him to repay him for the TV - because the poor guy’s credit card did not have to pay for Derek’s TV, no matter what Stiles might have reasoned, he had refused the money, claiming that Stiles had all paid for it himself.

“Let him, son, it’s better for all involved if you don’t fight him on this,” the Sheriff had said, sounding both resigned and a little bit proud. “He wanted to gift this to you, and he’d not want to see his gift rejected. Take him out to see one of his Marvel movies some day; he’d like that, I think.”

And then he’d patted Derek’s shoulder and walked away, leaving Derek standing there, gaping after him.

That almost sounded like the Sheriff telling him to take his son out on a date, but surely that can’t have been right. Derek must have misunderstood something, somewhere. Laura did always tell him that he was no good at human-ing. 

Derek still took Stiles to see a film. Well, he took the entire pack, so even if he sat next to Stiles and paid for his jumbo popcorn, it still didn’t make it a date. Not really.

Either way, the TV stayed, and with it, the pack. Movie nights happen at Derek’s now, and he even finds himself looking forward to them now, has fun coming up with new snacks and drinks, matching his choice of film when it’s his turn. (Ever since no one turned up to Lydia’s third showing of The Notebook, the grand reveal of what film they’ll watch has been moved to immediately before they start the film. They have also since forbidden reruns - no repeating films seemed the safest decision.)

Often Stiles joins him a little earlier than the rest, helping with the preparation of food or rearranging the sofas until he’s satisfied with all the viewing angles. Or rather, he makes Derek rearrange them, shouting orders from atop the couch table. If he didn’t know better, Derek would almost say that Stiles does it to ogle Derek’s muscles, because when they are done, Derek at least can’t tell how the sofa arrangement differs from how it was before he had to move them around.

Stiles always comes over early when it’s Derek’s choice of film, though. He likes to guess at what they are watching, just from what Derek is preparing. And usually he’s quite good at it, too, but to Derek’s surprise, he seems stumped this week.

“Watermelons?” Stiles asks, lifting one skeptically and promptly almost dropping it on his foot. “What are those for then?”

“Well, for carrying,” Derek jokes but only gets a blank look in reply. “You know, ‘I carried a watermelon’?” he tries again, but Stiles still doesn’t seem to recognise the line. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner?” 

Stiles frowns and asks: “Since when do you have a child? Derek, these are the kind of things I, we need to know! For pack reasons!”

He smells genuinely upset and Derek does not gets what happening right now.

“I don’t have a child, for goodness’ sake, Stiles! Not a baby, ‘Baby’! What Johnny says, you know!”

“Who is Johnny?” Stiles asks, scent less sour with turmoil, but still tangy with suspicion. 

“Johnny, the dancer, you know, Johnny and Baby! The watermelon, the corner, the mambo?” Derek lists, but none of that sparks any recognition in Stiles and Derek suddenly realises: “Oh my god you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Have you really never seen it?”

“Wait, this is for the film tonight? What are we watching? Who are Johnny and why is his baby a watermelon?” Stiles demands and Derek just grins. Stiles has never seen Dirty Dancing. Derek is going to milk this to every last drop. Usually Stiles knows what film Derek has chosen within a few minutes, if not seconds, and then typically teases Derek about them mercilessly until the rest of the pack arrives. So Derek is going to enjoy having the upper hand for once. 

Dirty Dancing had been Laura’s favourite film and she watched it at least twice a year, or whenever she needed a pick me up. She’d gone through both a phase where she’d wanted to be Baby and one where she’d decided she’d rather be Johnny, which is why Derek knows that lift from both positions, because of course loving Dirty Dancing means knowing all the steps and who better qualifies as a dancing partner than your helpless younger brother. 

After Laura’s death, Derek couldn’t stand any reminders for a long while, but now he finally feels ready to watch it again. He thought about watching it alone, but in the end decided it would be better to start a new tradition, with his new pack. They’d probably tease him for the choice a little bit, especially Stiles, but they’d be gentle about it, having learned by now each other’s scars and tender places. What he didn’t factor in was the possibility that Stiles would not know the movie.

It adds an unexpected element of hilarity to the otherwise very bittersweet experience.

Stiles gets increasingly antsy when Derek won’t reveal what their movie of the night will be before the others get there and offers increasingly outlandish suggestions, starting with Ice Age and culminating in some obscure British TV film. Derek doesn’t even know how he found that one and yet still hasn’t thought of Dirty Dancing. 

Watching the film with Stiles - and the rest of the pack of course - is an experience.

Derek doesn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been Stiles absolutely loving the film. 

Stiles clocks Robbie immediately, absolutely adores Penny, heckles Lisa, teases “Broody McBroodster Sexy Hips” Johnny and identifies very strongly with Baby. Derek guesses it makes a strange sort of sense - an adored, almost larger than life father, more intelligent than they are supposed to be, plus a marked challenge to coordinate all of their limbs. ‘And then there’s the strong bond to the broody hottie with a heart of gold,’ his inner Laura says but Derek resolutely ignores her.

When Baby carries her watermelon, Stiles flails and smacks a hand on Derek’s knee. It remains there for the rest of the film and Derek finds that his attention keeps drifting back to it. Stiles taps his fingers in time with the beat of the songs, digs his fingernails into Derek’s thigh during Baby’s and Johnny’s performance at the rival resort and then sighs in disappointment when the final lift doesn’t work. 

He is very pissed when Dr Houseman mistakenly assumes that Johnny got Penny “in trouble”, going on a rant about preconceived opinions and premature condemnations that ends with him muttering something about ‘and he was only ever questioned, never charged with anything.” Derek studiously avoids Lydia’s gaze. She is far too often of one opinion with his inner Laura. In the corner of his eye he sees Erica whispering something to Isaac who snorts loudly and is promptly shushed by Stiles who is totally engrossed in the drama on screen.

When Johnny gives his “Nobody puts Baby in the corner” line, Stiles gasps and then turns to Derek, grinning slightly maniacally: “I dare you to say that to my dad!”

Derek simply rolls his eyes and ignores Boyd’s knowing look from behind Stiles.

The final dance is without a doubt Stiles’ favourite. It helps that everyone else is finally focusing on the film again, too, and cheering Johnny and Baby on along with the people on screen. When Baby prepares for the final lift, Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and squeezes it hard until she’s up in the air. Then he whoops and does a strange sort of wiggle dance of celebration that ends with him pressed tightly against Derek who loses track of anything else that happens besides the sensation of Stiles’ thigh pressed against his and how his shoulder keeps bumping into Derek’s and how much easier it would be to just put his arm around Stiles and draw him in and hold him still that way.

He regrets not paying attention when everyone suddenly starts rearranging his furniture. It all gets shoved aside, Stiles pulling Derek up by the hand when it’s time for their couch, and before Derek knows it, there’s a wide open space on the floor.

“What- ?” he finally manages to ask - or begin to ask, but before he can come up with a fully formed question, Stiles starts rearranging him. With just a few touches, Derek finds himself standing in the middle of the open space, still without a clue as to what’s going on here. 

“What?” he repeats himself, but Stiles is already backing away. The rest of the pack is sitting on the couches again - Erica and Jackson are even munching popcorn. Derek would really like to know where they kept that hidden while they were watching a movie. 

“Isaac said you wouldn’t be able to do it, but I know you can,” Stiles answers cryptically and gives Derek no chance to make any sense of his statement before he starts to run.

Derek stares at Stiles barrelling towards him at full speed and it’s only the endless practices with Laura that allow him to catch and lift Stiles as he throws himself bodily into a jump and at Derek. He has got his hands on Stiles’ waist and his arms stretched up high and for one long moment, Stiles flies, yelling excitedly, his voice mixing with the chorus of the pack’s exclamations and applause. Then he moves ever so slightly and Derek can feel his balance slipping. At least he manages to make sure Stiles’ fall is cushioned by his own body, though the idiot probably doesn’t deserve as much. 

There’s a brief moment of silence when Stiles doesn’t even seem to breath and Derek thinks he’s gotten hurt after all, but then Stiles sighs out a long breath and starts babbling:

“Dude, that was so amazing! Imagine how that’s going to look once we practice!”

“I know the steps to the whole dance,” Derek admits spontaneously, and it feels like he’s admitting to something more profound. Stiles looks at him with wide, hopeful eyes and then asks:

“Will you make sure no one puts me into the corner?”

They are definitely talking about something beyond the dance now, and even though Derek isn’t sure he’s quite understood the rules of this strange code language, he nevertheless promises: “I’ll even carry your watermelons for you.”

That makes Stiles laugh out loud and bury his face in Derek’s shoulder. Over his head, Derek can see the rest of the pack sneaking out of the loft, Scott giving him a thumb’s up and Erica making kissy faces at him. Lydia just smiles smugly as though this had all been engineered by her and then quietly closes the door behind them. 

When Derek focuses back on Stiles, he’s already looking at him, face unreadable but his head betraying his hopes and his scent his fears. The sour notes of it make Derek’s nose itch and he decides to finally listen to his inner Laura and dare to jump himself, trusting Stiles to catch and lift him.

“Come here, loverboy,” he says quietly and Stiles relaxes, a grin growing from the corner of his eyes, quickly spreading across his whole face, cheeks flushing lightly pink.

Then his mouth opens: “Baby, my sweet baby, you’re the one.”

And then Derek quickly curves his hand around Stiles’ head and draws him into a kiss before he keeps up that caterwauling he’d call singing. 

After all, Baby only lipsynced, too. 

All of my Sterekweek fics can be found here!

[lifebeginsbyleaving]

Totem poleing through the woods 101

Stiles didn't know why he ended up with meatball gravy dripping down the side of his face and mashed potatoes globbed in his hair, but he was certain it was Lydia's fault.

But that is no where near the beginning, so let's back up.

***

After Boyd and Erica almost died, after Boyd almost didn't survive Derek's claws things changed.

It started the moment Boyd was gurgling it wasn't Derek's fault, that it was okay, around a mouthful of blood. Derek told him it wasn't and let out a heart wrenching roar that set Stiles in motion. As Derek held Boyd's wounds while sobbing he was sorry, Stiles grabbed his shoulder like he could hold them both together. He called Deaton and Melissa before helping Derek stop his most staunch beta's bleeding. Stiles remembered what Deaton said about being a spark. He needed to be a bridge between the two points to connect the power. He had to envision the path to create the destination. He needed to be the spark in between that let the power flow back and forth, maybe he could do that here. Maybe, but he definitely had to try. He moved to Boyd's other side and started to pry Derek's hands away.

Derek reacted immediately. "Stiles what are you doing, stop!" Derek looked into his eyes questioning with an edge of danger.

"We both know Melissa or Deaton won't get here in time." As if to prove his point Boyd spit up more blood.

"No! He's not dying! He can't I- I can't be the reason he dies. Stop Stiles let me save him. I can save him." Derek pleaded like convincing Stiles was all it would take to make it true.

"It's not your fault, and we both know you can't save him."

Derek looked ready to protest.

"But maybe I can. I don't know for sure but let me try."

Derek's eyes wavered down to Boyd and back to Stiles, but his hands held steady.

"Please. Do you trust me?"

Derek's head turned slightly to the side before hesitantly shaking up and down while moving his hands.

Boyd moaned in pain. That drew both of their attention to his face in time to see his eyelids flutter shut and his head became dead weight in Derek's grip. Derek looked wrecked and Stiles couldn't even begin to think about what he would look like if this didn't work.

Stiles placed one hand over Boyd's wounds and the other on Derek's chest.

He willed that this would work. He willed it with every fiber of his being. The power Derek absorbed from his beta would flow out of Derek, through Stiles, and then back into Boyd. He would take his power back and use it to heal himself. Boyd would be okay. Boyd would be okay. He saw it. He willed it. Boyd will be okay. I am a bridge. Boyd is where I envision the power going. The power will flow through me. Derek will not lose a beta. Boyd will be okay. Boyd wil-

He felt a tingling sensation in the fingers pressed to Derek's chest.

This is working.

I will take the power from Derek, it will flow through me and into Boyd.

It was no longer tingling in favor of wrapping itself around his arm burning it's way to his chest.

It will flow through me.

When it reached his heart he let out a scream as his eyes shot open with a beta gold shine. It felt like he was on fire.

It will flow into Boyd.

He felt it gripping its way down his other arm.

It will flow into Boyd. It was just the faintest feeling on his fingertips now.

Boyd will be okay.

Boyd sat up with a roar and shining eyes.

***

Then they had to get Erica back. Defeating the alpha pack wasn't easy, but they now knew what it felt like to almost lose a pack member so they fought. They willed her back. They got her back, and she was okay.

After that things started changing. Even if it was a snail's pace things were changing. Derek was different. Like almost losing two of his betas reminded him that he could, and that it would hurt. No matter how much he tried to keep them from his heart, they had it. He was their alpha and they were his betas for a long time, but almost losing them was the first time he realized they were a pack. Then he realized it wasn't just them. Scott and Stiles had crawled into his heart no matter how many times he would deny it. Every new threat they grew together more. Soon Lydia was added, then Jackson, and even Allison won her way into his favor. The first big change was when the alpha pack reminded them that they needed to be a pack or at least fight like one, but all the little changes were what started making them a pack. It didn't happen the first time it was suggested or even the second but slowly they all realized it, so pack training started. With it came trust exercises and bonding. They slowly became less and less hostile and more like they were actually trying to learn.

After one too many train yard training jokes from Stiles they moved it to the preserve, and after one too many complaints about getting slivers in his ass from sitting on tree stumps Derek told them to meet by the Hale house next time.

***

Everyone knew this was a bad idea. The wolves could feel the tension in the cool autumn air, they could almost cut it with the claws begging to come out. Stiles was vibrating with anxiety. Nobody said anything because what do you say, 'Oh hey are you sure about meeting by the house where your family got brutally burned alive? Are you totally sure because we could move to left a little bit, you know, right over where you buried your dead sister. Or are you not emotionally over that enough to be here?' Stiles had to talk or he would explode.

"So Derek isn't here yet. Anybody find that strange? He's never late to a pack meeting or training. He's usually the first one. No scratch that, always the first one." Stiles kicked some dirt.

Jackson scoffed. "I bet he's eager to get here Stilinski."

Stiles crossed his arms to match his mocking face and to warm himself, damn super heated wolves weren't even shivering and he was the only human not dressed appropriately. "I know that assbag, I was just pointing out maybe this isn't the best idea." Stiles flung his hands out to gesture to the scorched house.

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Well why do you think we're here? You couldn't shut up about your little tush being sore."

Stiles smirked. "I love that you said tush and not ass. It totally doesn't discredit your whole asshole rich bad boy vibe."

The corners of Jackson's mouth lifted slightly. "Shut it."

The rest of the pack snickered.

"Oh yeah why don't you make me... bad boy." Stiles added the dramatic pause to goad him.

Jackson was full on smiling now. "You're on Stilinski!" He rushed Stiles and took him to the ground in .2 seconds flat.

Stiles yelped. "Scott! Erica! Help me!" He managed to not get trapped into a headlock while they dove to the rescue.

"Isaac! Get Stiles' legs!" He could barely get it out around huffs of laughter.

Isaac went to move Erica out of the way and Boyd came up behind him to pin him. Lydia started yelling strategy to her boyfriend as Allison twisted an arm away from hers. There was a writhing mass of fighting limbs and lungs heaving in breaths and letting out laughter that was visible in the chilled air.

Scott was finally triumphant. "I got you buddy. Go! Save yourself. Remember me." Scott acted like he was drowning deeper into the sea of moving bodies writhing on the dirt and crunchy leaves.

Stiles wriggled free with a dramatic, "I'll always remember you Scottie!" He stood up just in time to see Erica get elbowed in the face.

"Oh it's on Lahey!"

Stiles let out a laugh over his inevitable demise. His laughter was cut short by seeing Derek across the yard. His fists were clenched and his face was tense as if to try and stop the torrential mixture of emotions that were on his face. His eyes were flashing in between colors so fast that any other time Stiles would make a joke about not having clear driving instructions, except this time he could tell green or red they meant stop. It was out before he could stop it.

"Derek."

It was like his voice was a curse freezing the pack and, after a deadly silent pause, banishing Derek to a dead sprint into the woods. He could not tell what it did to himself, his heart seemed to be running with Derek and frozen in place all at once.

There was a silent pause.

Isaac spoke up. "Should someone go after him?"

"I think he needs some time, but I don't think we should stay here." Scott spoke the first part plainly from his experience with spooked animals, and the second disguised from meaning we shouldn't have been here at all yet they knew both.

Slowly everyone left, all but Stiles, Scott, and Allison.

"Hey Scottie can you take Ali home on your bike?"

"I thought we were going to go over 18th centu-" Only she could look so dejected after not being able to talk about daggers for three hours.

Stiles looked apologetic. "Can we do that next weekend? I promise I'm not canceling on you. I want to clean up here a bit so we don't leave anything here." He gestured to the dozen or so empty water bottles and four towels scattered along with the crisp leaves.

"Sure Sti. Just text me." She smiled at him. "We could wait? Or help?"

"Nah I got it. You guys go."

Scott handed her a matte black helmet that matches his except it had a shiny black fleur-de-lis on the side. It had been Stiles' idea for their first year anniversary, but it was still so coupley it made him want to throw up in his mouth a bit. Scott looked at him strangely, then as Allison moved to the bike he gave him a hug. He looked into his eyes and told him, "Maybe he's not ready to talk about it."

Stiles looked at him puzzled until he spoke, "I know Scottie, you said that already."

Scott gave a sigh like something already happened that he warned against. "Okay."

With one final indecipherable look they sped off.

Stiles was humming "All I want for Christmas" while he was cleaning up.

He had gone through a few more songs and he still had a water bottle and two towels to pick up as he started softly singing, "Cold hands." Every time he'd get close to something that needed to be picked up he'd get distracted by a branch that should be cleared, or an abandoned nest that he needed to look at, or a worm he had to help to a more wet puddle. His feet seemingly took longer to take him where he wanted to go. He leaned up slowly with a groan and stretching out like he was too old to pick things off the ground after each item.

As he reached the last water bottle his thoughts drifted from his eclectic music choices to Derek. How he was alone. After being betrayed by his pack. They had played a game on the sacred ground that served to him as a shrine to his family- they fucking wrestled on it. They basically spat at his past. He confronted a place with so many bad memories- no he invited them there. He invited them there because Stiles was uncomfortable, and they didn't even think twice.

And now he was alone, because none of them knew how to comfort him. They didn't know how he would react so they didn't even make sure or ask if it was okay. He was alone, because he lost people close to him and that made them uncomfortable. That made Stiles feel terrible, he remembered what it was like after he lost his mom. How everyone would approach him with pitying eyes and too gentle hands like he wasn't Stiles anymore, like he was only broken.

Stiles hurriedly picked up the towels and threw them in the back of the jeep to be washed later. He stalked out into the woods with purpose.

His purpose was quickly derailed as he found that trees share a striking resemblance to each other and do not go, 'Hey you over there! Yes you! Follow the yellow blinking tree road and you'll find Toto,' but they do have very trippable roots especially if you're a Stiles.

He was lost. Very lost.

And did he have signal? No. Why ever would the universe shine in his favor like not getting stuck in the middle of the woods! To die of hypothermia!

Well the hypothermia was not as likely because it was Cali, and it isn't even night yet, and it was only the beginning of fall. But still! He was alone! And that thought got him back on track, Derek was alone too.

"Derek! Can you hear me? Where are you? Derek!"

He went on trekking and yelling Derek's name. He turned his face upwards to curse the sky and missed a tree branch that blocked his path.

"Whoaaa- Ow!" Stiles moved to sit up.

"Ow! Great! Just great! Sprained ankle. Yay fun." He grabbed a stick to help himself up.

"Stupid self for being inconsiderate. Stupid pack being stupid and making me feel bad so I have to go find Derek. Stupid Derek for running so far into the woods. I bet he's laugh his ass off while listening to me struggle. Uuuugh. Derek! Hurry your sourwolf ass up and find me already!"

He hobbled a few more steps and he felt something in the air. He stopped.

"You're either Derek or something that might as well just eat me now, cuz I'm not running."

"You're hurt." Came a gruff voice he would know even if he couldn't hear a Lydia Martin level deafening scream anymore.

Stiles let out a long suffering sigh. "It's about time. Did you stop to eat a little fluffy bunny on your way to resc-" Stiles started turning around and saw the puffy red marks already healing on his arms, neck, and face. "You're hurt." Stiles said with emphasis.

Derek finally got to his side and grabbed his shoulder and arm to lead him to a near by log. "I asked you first."

"Technically neither of us asked questions."

Derek rolled his eyes as he knelt down in front of Stiles. "Stop being a pain in my ass. How did it happen?"

"I thought I'd be funny to mortally wound myself." Stiles flailed on the log. "What do you think dumbass. I fell. Now you. What happened to you?"

Derek looked up from where he'd been inspecting Stiles' ankle and had started to pull the pain.

He mockingly threw out his unoccupied hand. "What do you think dumbass. I ran through the woods." Derek smirked and Stiles scoffed.

"Yeah but-" Stiles poked his finger into Derek's chest as he said the next word. "You- oh graceful werewolf- do not run into things, like us mere humans."

Derek quickly looked back down at his ankle. "I was running fast."

Stiles let out a disbelieving noise. "Oh whatever. You always run fast, but you don't always get these-" Stiles brushed his fingers under what was a gash when he first saw him, now an almost completely healed minor cut on his face. Derek snapped his gaze up and into Stiles' eyes at the contact. Stiles' throat seemed to forget what words to form next. "Um they-they are um-" Stiles seemed to realize his fingers were still stroking Derek's face. He pulled his hand away.

Derek seemed to be drugged by the contact and unconsciously leaned into it.

He ached to touch Derek's face again, but Stiles' hand was still retreating until he realized it was gone. He brushed his fingers against his cheek again. Derek's eyes fluttered closed. "It's gone."

His eyes opened again and he spoke with a dry throat. "Wh-what is gone?"

Stiles' fingers still danced along his cheek. "The cut. It's gone." Stiles smiled at him. "I must be your magical healing drug."

Just like that whatever fragile moment they were having was shattered. "Stiles why are you here?" There goes Derek being distant again.

"You mean what is my purpose in life or wh-"

"Why are you in the middle of the woods alone." Derek asked annoyed.

"Oh you know looking for unicorns I've heard if you ask really nicely they'll stab bearded green eyed were-men that get on your nerves and here's to hopin." Stiles clasped his hands together and batted his eyes at the sky with a dreamy expression, one that was quickly wiped from his face to be replaced by a no shit Sherlock face. "I was looking for you dumbass."

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles knows that eyebrow raise. That is the eyebrow raise that means I'm about to say something very mean, but it's because we are edging into sensitive feelings area. "Sorry Stiles, I thought even you would know not to follow someone who, very clearly, didn't want to be followed. But forgive me for being a dumbass by not realizing how pathetically dumb you are. I'll make sure to spell it out next time, dumbass." He finished with none of the earlier lighthearted banter and all the edge he could muster. He stood up and turned like he was going to leave.

Stiles grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry. We weren't thinking. We shouldn't have messed around like that. It was disrespectful and crass. We can go back to the reserve. I'll pack lawn chairs. Just please forgive me. Forgive us. We didn-"

Derek turned back with wide puzzled eyes. "You think I'm angry at you?"

Stiles floundered for words. "Um. Well I mean I- Yes." Stiles looked puzzled now and squinted. "Aren't you?"

"Why would I be mad?" Derek asked like he couldn't think of a single reason.

"Um for starters? We wrestled on the ground that used to be the home that got taken away from you. That place holds so many bad memories for you and you found us laughing. We basically laughed at your past trauma. And I'm sorr-"

Derek waved his hands. "Stiles do you know why I don't go back to the Hale house anymore?"

Stiles could tell this was serious. "Uh... because of the trauma, and bad memories, and stuff?"

Derek shook his head unflinching in Stiles' insensitivity. "The silence. It is deafening. Especially to me. I can hear things you never even knew made a sound."

Derek moved to sit beside him on the log and stared down at the ground in front of them, he knew how much that meant. It meant Derek was trusting him enough to speak to him, trusting that Stiles would listen.

"And sure I can hear the leaves rustling outside, and the birds, and everything else, but inside? It's dead noise. There's nothing except me." He looked at Stiles haunted. "I don't go to the house not because of bad memories, but because of the good ones."

Derek looked down at his hands. The only way Stiles could tell he was crying was because he brought his hand up to wipe his face. "I still remember what Cora's little feet sounded like tottering down the hall. I remember hearing my little brother watching cartoons on Sundays. I remember Peter playing Marco Polo with my cousins, but instead of saying Polo he'd say, "Daddy loves you." I remember my dad singing while cooking and my- my mom hugging him from behind so she could sing him the next line. I-" His voice cracks and Stiles doesn't know how much more he can take and he doesn't know if he's thinking of himself or Derek. "I remember when I would wake up from nightmares and I would focus on every single heartbeat in the house till their rhythm soothed me to sleep. I remember focusing on every little sound every one of them made when I was learning to control my shift. Now there-" His voice broke, too filled with emotion. "There is just silence."

There was a pause and after hearing how much he hates the quiet now Stiles ached to fill it for him, but could not find the words.

Stiles finally spoke, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry it wasn't your-"

Stiles waved his hand and bulldozed over him. "No I'm not sorry about the fire. Oh shit no! That's not what I mean! I mean I am sorry for the fire, but not now. Well I mean I'm still sorry for the fire just that wasn't what I meant and-"

"Stiles." Derek said plainly.

"Derek?" Stiles looked uncomfortable.

"What did you mean."

He let out a deep breath before speaking. "I meant I'm sorry we went there, and we caused you pain."

"You still don't understand. I wasn't mad because you were laughing and having fun. Stiles that was my home. There are far more good memories there than bad, even if the bad are the most memorable. That's not why I left, I left because I was overwhelmed with having a pack to fill the silence, but then as soon as you all saw me you stopped. I left because I couldn't be the reason for silence again. Not again." He could tell he was crying steadily now.

Stiles spoke softly, "Derek."

He didn't look up at him. Stiles turned towards him, and cupped his hand around the back of Derek's neck. He looked absolutely wrecked.

"Derek, that wasn't your fault. You know that right? We've been over this. What she did was not your fault, and the reason we were quiet was because we didn't know how you were going to react."

Stiles started wiping his tears.

"They do it every practice. As soon as I start talking, they stop joking."

"Because you are their alpha."

Derek's eyes flashed.

"Exactly. That comes with power and respect. They respect you, and when it's time to get serious, they do. They are not falling silent Derek. They are listening, listening to you. We're always ready to listen to you. Or to fill the silence, which I am particularly good at. You just have to tell us what you need."

Stiles' thumb started stroking his neck at some point, and with how much more relaxed Derek had become, he wasn't about to stop.

There was a pause.

"Thank you. And you're actually surprisingly good at both." He mumbled the last bit, but he said it with honesty.

Derek looked lighter, like he had let something heavy off his chest. Curse werewolf healing, his eyes weren't even red or puffy anymore he was already back to Greek god mode like it never happened.

Stiles' hand left his neck to squeeze Derek's shoulder into him, in a half hug. "Anytime man." Then he slapped his back lightly.

Stiles looked around and noticed that it was getting dark out. "Well I'd love to stay forever, but mosquitoes are getting a little too chompy on the first date so..."

"Forever? You couldn't handle it for more than five minutes, you baby. Besides I have more important things to do than stay here, with you." Normally Stiles would brush it off, but he said it with a note of bitterness and any hit towards their reciprocal, but half unwelcome feelings made him upset.

"Right... okay. Let's go jackass."

Stiles moved to get up, away from Derek, and forgot about his hurt leg, so he promptly landed in a heap on the floor.

Or he would've if Derek wouldn't have caught him and sat him back down.

"You have to do that on purpose. Nobody could be that clumsy."

"Believe it or not it's god given."

Derek smirked. "More like baby dropped."

Stiles put a hand over his heart. "I take great offence to that."

"Yeah well, my recompense will be carrying you to your jeep."

Stiles stilled, like he hadn't thought about how he was getting back. "Don't be stupid. I can walk. Like a man." He was still stinging from Derek's dismissal of him.

"Stiles already without a sprain  you don't walk like a man. You flail like a baby horse."

"1. Baby horses are called foals. 2. I most certainly do not! And 3. You are not carrying me, you ass."

"Stiles just get climb on my back." Derek said flatly.

"I am most certainly not getting a piggy back ride from you like a fucking two year old!" It was spoken with conviction, but punctuated with a stamp of the foot. At this point he realized he was being ridiculous.

"Why not, you're acting like one?" Derek looked entirely unimpressed at Stiles' gaping face. "Besides you do it with the pack all the time."

Stiles realized that this was a stupid thing to argue about, what Derek said was already forgiven, even if he didn't want to, because he knew why he said it. It wasn't even that bad, but he had chosen his rock and god damn him if he wasn't going to die upon it! "I would rather starve in these woods than be piggy backed to safety!"

Derek let out a growl of frustration. "So I'm guessing princess carry is out."

"Do not doubt my ability to find wolvesbane in this forest."

Derek scoffed as he scrubbed his hand down his face. "Stiles I doubt your ability to find your own ass in this forest."

"Maybe mistletoe then." Stiles started looking around.

"Mistletoe doesn't grow in this forest." A fond look found its way to Derek's face.

Stiles leveled him with a glare. "I'll plant it myself."

Derek laughed genuinely and Stiles forgot what they were arguing about.

"Fireman?"

Stiles looked over his shoulders. "Where?"

"Tch. No you idiot! Fireman carry."

Stiles thought about Derek fireman carrying him to safety and somehow when they got back to his jeep Derek was in complete gear sans shirt and jacket. He let him down with a 'You're safe now' and who was even dousing him in water!? Why was Isaac in his daydream and who gave him a fire hose!

"Absolutely not."

"Well then what else is there!" Derek threw his hands up. "Stop being ridiculous. You have to be out of stupid shit to say by now! Just get on my back."

Derek should have know Stiles will never be out of stupid shit to say. In fact he should have known it would come across as 'I dare you to say even stupider shitier things' in great big flashing neon letters.

"I could get on your shoulders."

If he wasn't an atheist Stiles had never seen a more impressive Jesus give me strength face worthy of the second coming.

"Let me- You kno- How- What ev-" Derek moved his hands and paused them with every start and stop.

"Do yo-" Stiles began.

"Oh no. Nope. Em em. Ah ah." He gave the zipping motion to Stiles.

A few seconds later Stiles was about to start talking again and he made the motion again. He let out a groan.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to carry you. On my shoulders. Two miles. Through the woods. All the way back to your jeep."

"Yes." Stiles replied like it was obviously the best solution and made no sense why it had taken him so long to catch up.

"Okay. Okay. Stiles?"

"Yes?"

"Explain me this, how is getting a piggy back ride less dignified than TOTEM POLEING THROUGH THE WOODS AT DUSK!" Derek was heaving and his eyes were wild.

This is the part any sane person would have been like, 'You're totally right dude. My bad. Thank you for carrying me. Let me just hop on your back.'

This is the part Stiles said, "We would be piggy backing at dusk too." When Derek gives him the murder eyebrows he continued, "I mean it's a moot point. They both would be at dusk so why even bring it up?"

Derek's face flashed 'how is this my life' briefly before pinching the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep breath, flinging both of his arms out, then letting them slap against his legs. "You're right Stiles how dare I bring up that it's dusk. It was stupid of me."

Stiles gets a shit eating grin before saying, "Well, at least you admit it was stupid." Stiles planned to take advantage of what was going to be a dark drive home to thank his lucky stars, because of how many times he'd seen Derek smile in one night. Even if this time it is heavily riddled with exasperation and eventually reluctant affection.

"We do need to get you home soon. And although I am in favor of letting your head whap against countless tree branches along the way, I'll have sore shoulders in the morning."

"You won't be sore, you have werewolf strength."

"Stiles. You're heavy." Derek almost added a duh, but didn't.

Stiles' mouth fell into an O shape. "Did you just call me fat!"

Derek growled and stalked closer to growl in Stiles' face. "Pick a position or I'll pick one for you!" He spun and walked to lean against a nearby tree.

Stiles was glad for the falling darkness because of his rosy cheeks. "Piggy, fireman, princess, and totem are all out. What if I just put an arm around you and limp along?"

"That would take forever."

"Hm. True."

"I could always carry you under my arm like a dead piece of wood." Derek offered disinterested while staring at another tree right in front of him.

"Ha ha."

"I'm serious.  I'm two seconds away from knocking you out and doing as I please."

"Okay fine I think I have it. Come here."

Derek pushed off his tree and met the hobbling Stiles next to a wide tree. He stood in front of Stiles.

"Okay now wh-"

Stiles pushed off the ground with his good leg and the stick while jumping up. Stiles' arms grappled around Derek's shoulders, after dropping the stick, and his legs secured as well as he could, but he new he was going down without werewolf reflexes.

Derek's hands roughly grabbed his ass, but the surprise momentum pulled him forward and Stiles' back crashed into the other tree.

"Ow!"

Derek's voice came out muffled from where his face smooshed into Stiles' shoulder, "Well then next time warn me!"

Stiles adjusted himself in Derek's grip and moved his hands to Derek's neck. "Move! My back is getting bark imbedded into it."

Derek stood up straight and took Stiles with him. "I wasn't the one wh-" Derek stopped. It was dark, but not dark enough that he couldn't see that while he was looking at Stiles' eyes, Stiles was looking at his lips. Nor was it dark enough for Stiles to not be able to see how beautiful Derek's lips were when he was sassing him. Stiles looked back up and my God his lips were beautiful, but his eyes were majestic. Stiles loved them even more when they trailed down to look at his lips. He smirked and started to lean in.

Now this would be a terrible time for Derek to drop him.

"Wham! Crack! OW!"

"Holy shit! Fuck! Sorry!" Derek knelt down in a hurry.

Stiles was moaning in pain. "Not only did I hit my ankle you dropped my tailbone right onto a tree branch asswipe!"

Stiles saw black veins crawl up Derek's arm and he slapped it away. Derek looked about as hurt as Stiles felt.

"If you take too much pain, you'll be too weak to carry me dumbutt. And I'd rather not die from freezing to death in these woods, which is becoming increasingly more likely!"

"You're hurt. And did you just call me a dumbutt?"

Stiles was starting to get seriously irritated from the pain of quite literally being dropped on his ass because Derek didn't want to kiss him. Whatever, it was a bad idea anyway. "Yes. We've established that cave wolf. Me hurt. You Derek. Fire hot. Tonight cold."

Derek seemed to be snapped out of his trance. "You're cold?"

Derek was getting on his last nerve. Stiles started moving his hands wildly while getting up with Derek's help. "Oh gee I don't know. Why would I be cold right now? In the middle of the woods! At nightfall. With only a flimsy jacket. Should I say a list of things I am right now and save us some time? Okay first, I'm cold. We've established that. Second, I'm tired. Because even though I should've been catching up on all the sleep I've missed while researching every possible threat under the fucking sun that decided to mess with us just these last few months, I haven't been able to sleep since the last pack meeting, too busy worrying about what to say to you! Third, I'm hungry as shit. No lunch today because I had to help Malia, Issac, and Scott cram study. Fourth, I just want to be home, but I'm stuck out here with you! Which, by the way, I have no idea how that keeps happening! And fifth, I'm hurt. Both of which I'm blaming you for! I don't care if they both happened because of me! They are both your fault, and you are letting me pick what kind of takeout we get for the next three pack meetings!" He finished his rant by sticking a finger right in Derek's face.

Derek nodded his head and seemed to be taking it all in.

He dropped his finger and let out a deep breath.

Derek broke the charged silence. "You forgot upset and frustrated with me."

He narrowed his eyes looking like he was trying to decide whether to take it as it was intended, as a lighthearted olive branch, or to blow up again. He started to open his mouth.

Derek interrupted before he could speak. "I'm sorry Stiles. I didn't mean to upset or hurt you-"

Stiles scoffed.

"Even if it does happen without me meaning it. I am sorry." Derek looked sincere.

Stiles nodded his head as he yawned. "I know I'm just-"

"Just tired? Cold? Hungry? Upset?" Derek smirked and he could never stay mad at that face.

"S-something like that." Stiles' teeth started chattering.

Derek moved close to him and gingerly brushed his cheek with his knuckles in mirror of what Stiles had done earlier. Stiles' eyelashes fluttered and the white clouds momentarily stopped billowing from his mouth.

"You are really cold. We should hurry." Derek said with concern.

He moved back a little and Stiles couldn't tell if he was swaying because his balance was off or because he was at war with himself on whether or not to follow that wonderful warmth. He focused back to reality and saw Derek moving.

"What are you doing?"

Derek gave eyebrow raise number forty -eight, 'Go on. Try reeeally hard you'll figure it out.' before Stiles felt a calming, comfortable warmth settle around his shoulders. He almost moaned out loud at the heat seeping down to his frozen bones.

"This is your jacket."

"How very intuitive of you." He snarked as he held both sides of the collar so it wouldn't fall off as Stiles put his arms in.

"Your favorite jacket." He started to put his arms in slowly.

"What makes you think it's my favorite? I have a lot of leather jackets."

"Because you wear it as often as you can without wearing it too much so you don't ruin it. You always wear this one to important things. It reminds me of one time when I was at Scott's I almost borrowed one of his hoodies, but he nearly clawed me to pieces because it's the one that Allison always wears. You're like that with this jacket. I've seen you openly avoid letting people touch you when you're wearing this, even the pack. Wait I think it wa- Was it your-" Stiles trailed off.

Derek nodded knowing what he meant. "It was my dad's. It survived the fire because a week before Cora had spilled fruit punch on dad and it got on the liner, so it was at the dry cleaners. My mom would steal it sometimes because she said it smelled more like him than he did some days because of how much he wore it. Now it's the only thing I have that smells like both of them without smoke."

Stiles felt his stomach drop out. He hurriedly started to take it off. "Oh my god Derek! Why would you let me wear it then!" Derek stopped him from taking the coat off.

"No it's okay. Whenever my mom said he was going to tire out his jacket from wearing it too much my dad always said 'you can have useful things, but they're only things worth having if you use them fully'. When I first found out that they had his jacket I never wanted to wear it, but then I thought about him. He would've wanted me to wear it. I felt guilty whenever I saw it just hanging in the closet. It made me feel empty looking at the jacket my dad used to fill. Eventually I grew into it and wore it as a comfort, but lately the only reason I still smell them on that jacket is because I picture their scents. Besides you're cold."

Derek looked like it was genuinely okay that he was wearing it, almost like he approved while zipping the zipper.

"I- I don't even know what to say... Thank you Derek."

Derek smiled at him. "You always know what to say."

They shared a pleasant pause before Derek spoke again.

"Now we have to get you home."

"Alright turn around and crouch down."

Derek shot up a questioning, amused brow. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"I haven't a possible idea what you're talking about. Maybe you are referring to, how did you put it, 'I am not getting a piggyback like a fucking two year old' hm?"

They both were trying to conceal rapidly growing grins.

Derek continued with a wide smile. "Maybe you would prefer to totem pole through the woods?... At dusk."

They both lost it. Stiles doubled over in laughter, and Derek's face betrayed nothing besides pure glee and happiness as laughter shook his shoulders.

Stiles was nearly breathless as he attempted to stifle his giggles in a leather sleeve. "You ass."

"You're the one that said it." Derek spoke still with a face splitting smile. "I still can't believe you did."

Stiles shrugged and looked at him. "Now I'm glad I did." His eyes trailed down. "I love it when you smile with your teeth."

Derek looked down then away at the completely fallen night. "We should start heading back."

He turned and crouched. Stiles settled in as a soothing weight and calming warmth on his back. After he wrapped his hands securely around his neck, Derek slowly lifted to his feet while gently grabbing Stiles' thighs, careful not to jostle his hurt ankle. They could never do this again and Derek would still never forget what it felt like to have Stiles this close, even if it had only been for a couple seconds so far.

"Giddy up werewolf."

"I can still leave you here." Derek said even as he started moving.

"You know I don't believe your threats anymore."

"All alone with no one to save you."

"The moon would guide me back."

"Last I checked she's more my ally then yours."

"Exactly. You need me, so she'd bring me back to you." Derek steps seemed to falter for a moment and he gripped harder into Stiles' legs.

Derek seemed uncomfortable. "Oh? She would, would she? And did-did you read that in a book?" Derek asked cautiously.

"What? No. Should I have? Is there a book about the moon guiding people?" Stiles scoffed. "Tales and tails: Lunar sherpa edition?"

"Mythos of the moon mates." Derek said seriously.

Stiles snickered and Derek started to chuckle as well.

They were silent for awhile, and Derek could get used to being this close to him. His normally jackrabbiting heartbeat was calm against his back. His breath was gently fanning across his ear and neck keeping Derek warm. He ached thinking about how similar curling up on the couch with him would be.

"Does it hurt when I'm this close?"

Derek nearly choked. "Ah uhm how di- what?"

"Oh sorry I was just thinking does it hurt when I'm this close and talking? Like are your super ears sore? What would happen if I screamed this close?"

"Oh. Well it's kind of uncomfortable, but the 'super ears', as a literal five year old put it, are easy to deal with once you learn control. I can almost dial it. And what might happen is I might drop you on your ass, but on purpose this time." Derek softened his senses because he knew the shit. He had no doubt Stiles would 'see something' and 'have to' scream.

Stiles took him by surprise. "Is this better?" He whispered right by his ear.

Derek nearly dropped him. "You know I think it's about the same. It must be a directional thing. You can just talk normally. Please talk normally."

Stiles turned his head away and laid it on his shoulder. "Better?"

It was slightly better and slightly worse. "Is that comfortable for you?"

Stiles yawned. "It's so comfortable I could fall asleep." The only thing that bothered Stiles was that before the heat from Derek radiated to half his face now the cold was biting at his face.

"Then go to sleep."

He yawned again. "I shouldn't. I have to get back."

"I'm carrying you. Then, I'll drive you back. Go to sleep Stiles."

"Okay bossy." His words sounded muffled from how his cheek was smushed into his shoulder.

Stiles was slowly drifting off with the rhythm of Derek's steps. He was in the tired delirious stage right before slipping into unconsciousness. He groggily lifted his head up to the sky.

"Oh wait, I forgot to thank the stars."

Even though Stiles couldn't see it Derek's eyebrows rose. He too looked up at the crystal clear sky and bright twinkling stars. "What?"

"I forgot to thank the stars that I got to see you smile and laugh so much tonight. Tonight was a good night." Like he had never spoken Stiles' head thunked back down, but this time he faced the other way. Stiles' frozen nose burrowed into his neck and his breath came out in warm puffs. Normally he didn't get the whole werewolf deal with smell, but with his nose pressed against Derek, his cologne and scent smelling like safety made him think he could.

Derek could feel his neck and face heat despite not having the warmth of a jacket, he had something better, the warmth of a Stiles.

"You sprained your ankle tonight Stiles."

"I don't care. Doesn't-" Stiles yawned, "matter. I made you laugh... I love you when you- when you la-"

Derek could tell Stiles lost his fight against sleep as his heart rate calmed. His own however was beating faster than he had ever heard Stiles'. This wasn't an 'I love it when...' thing, he had said 'I love you when...' and some how that made a big difference.

He always tried denying and fighting this thing they had and both were aware of because he knew he was only good at two things. Hurting people and getting hurt. Derek knew Stiles wasn't going to hurt him, well at least not on purpose, not with how many times he's saved him. Still, he knew he could never really love someone, not if he cared for them. Because that's how he felt, he cared for Stiles, he didn't love him. Because everyone Derek loves ends up hurt or hurting him. They end up dead or making Derek wish he was instead.

He cared for Stiles because he really should've been using a different word, but it scared him and it didn't matter before. Stiles didn't even like him that much, before. Before Stiles was softly snoring in his ear and drooling on his neck. Before Stiles said something stupid. Before he said something that snapped Derek out of his denial, and reminded him just how much he wanted. Derek knew what he would've said if he hadn't fallen asleep, but he couldn't help only hearing what he wanted to.

Stiles loved him.

AN This is part one for Sterek week prompt outdoors. Part two will be published tomorrow for movie night. Thanks for reading!

                                                                                             Carter :)