a-mountain-ash:

An anon asked me to write about alpha!Stiles and omega!Derek at a werewolf convention! I don’t remember if human Alpha!Stiles was specified in the prompt, but that’s what this is!! I was super not feeling this fic as I wrote it, but @shealwaysreads was my cheerreader and encouraged me to publish it as it was so I did, and to date this is my most popular fic on AO3!!

Here on AO3!

“You have to go Stiles. Alphas don’t just not go to these things.”

“I’m not a real alpha, Scott. You guys just act like I am.”

“All the more reason you have to go.” Lydia added. “All those other real alphas are just waiting for you to show a weakness. Not going would make you look scared, like you’re not capable of holding your own. Like we’re up for grabs.”

Stiles bristled at that. His pack was not for the taking, whether or not they were bonded to him by bite or blood. They were his and so was Beacon Hills.

“Fine.” He grit out, much to Lydia and Scott’s pleasure.

“I’m going with!” Scott said. “You need to bring a show of strength, and who better than your first beta?”

The conference was an annual, all-expenses-paid extravaganza hosted by this millionaire alpha in Ojai who only really wanted all the California weres to get along. She was ancient, influential, flamboyant, and greeted every guest at the door of the hotel with a huge smile on her face. Stiles wasn’t sure if she kept her rank with money or kindness, but no one messed with her so she obviously did something right.

This was Stiles’ first year being invited to the event and as soon as he stepped into his private room with king size bed and free movies on-demand, he was mighty glad he’d let his betas convince him to RSVP. He wasn’t allowed to enjoy the bed for long however before Scott was pounding on his door.

“Yes, Scotty?” He said wearily as he opened the door for his friend, who was wearing a fresh outfit. “The first event isn’t for another half hour, dude.”

“Yeah I know, but I also know you’re going to try to attend dressed in your travel clothes and that’s a total no-no man.”

Much grumbling and protestation later, Stiles was dressed in a deep red crew neck sweater over a blue and white checked button-up, pair of slim khakis, and blue suede bucks.

“Lydia completely re-packed for me didn’t she?” Stiles whined.

“Of course she did. Couldn’t let you show up in three day old flannel and worn out converse.”

“But that’s who I am, Scotty.”

“Well you bought all these clothes, so some part of you wanted to make a good impression at some point.” Lydia had definitely schooled Scott on his arguments and this was a bloody conspiracy. She was going to hear it later.

“These are my date clothes!”

“Well pretend you’re on a date with the werewolves. Maybe you’ll manage to get yourself an actual date in the process.”

That was admittedly a decent prospect and Stiles stopped arguing. Werewolves had a tendency to be very hot.

Hot indeed, Stiles thought to himself as he walked into the opening reception and caught sight of all the beautiful people. Grabbing himself a mug of coffee, Stiles led Scott around the room as he observed everyone, identifying the alphas from their accompanying betas and catching glimpses of the occasional omegas who were likely in search of new packs.

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