Sterek fic where Stiles gets Derek drunk for the first time.
Stiles is more than curious about what Derek would be like with a few drinks in him. He has his suspicions but there’s also the possibility of an even sour Derek or an angry Derek.
Stiles’ suspicions are confirmed when Derek has smiled at him three times in the last hour. Three different smiles.
One is the kind Stiles gets more often these days, the one when Derek humors him. The one that reminds Stiles of Derek at sixteen, before the fire.
The second is the fake grin, blinding and breathtaking, that Derek uses when he’s turning on the flirt. Derek catches him in a lie. They’re sitting around Derek’s coffee table with the scrabble board between them (Drunk Derek also has a surprisingly good vocabulary) When Derek leans forward towards Stiles a little too far, slapping his tiles down with unnecessary force, clearly very proud of whatever word he’s made:
“Sex…” Stiles sighs, tallying up the points. Derek is winning. Stiles can’t think of words at the best of time let alone pretty drunk.
“You want to have sex with me, don’t you, Stiles?” Derek asks dramatically.
“Jesus chrysanthemums, Derek,” Stiles says, he thinks it’s more of a slur, “No I don’t,” Stiles ducks his head and pretends to do math.
“Your nose is growing,” Derek says. “Or maybe something e–”
“–you do not finish that sentence, Derek,” Stiles interrupts. Derek just leers at him, which is so much worse when he doesn’t have his stupidly sexy aviators on.
The third one is by far the worst of all.
They’re outside on the balcony, laying on a blanket that Stiles thinks is probably too expensive to be laid out on a filthy ground. Stiles tries to point this out but Derek looks devastated and says, “I like the way it feels.”
So, they’re laying side by side on it and staring up at the stars when Stiles asks, “You could have gotten drunk before, but you said you didn’t want to,” Stiles says, “what changed?”
“You asked,” Derek replies, eyes on the sky.
“Yeah,” Stiles sighs, “wait what?”
Derek laughs at him before rolling over onto his side. Stiles mirrors the movement. “I never wanted to drink alone, and I wouldn’t trust anyone else,” Derek tells him, easy. Stiles’ mouth is open he thinks.
“Why?” Stiles asks, fascinated. Derek’s brow furrows adorably, and Stiles reaches out a hand to brush his thumb across it. He pulls his hand back quickly and says, “sorry, dude.”
But Derek just smiles at him. Stiles has seen this smile before, once, and he doesn’t think he was supposed to. This is the part where Derek usually ducks his head, like he’s protecting himself from too much affection.
Except, this time he doesn’t. He’s looking at Stiles in a way that makes his heart stutter in his chest. “Oh,” Stiles says.
“We’ve all made some real bad interpersonal choices in the past, but statistically speaking you’ve never given me a reason not to trust you,” Derek says.
Stiles flushes, “yeah, well same to you,” he stutters out, flustered.
“Not really,” Derek admits. Stiles laughs, hysterically. Derek just smiles that smile at him. It makes Stiles sober enough to lean into Derek’s space and say soft and private,
“When we’re sober, and if it’s still okay, do you think, maybe I could ask you out?”
This was definitely inspired by How I Met Your Mother. No regrets.
2:15 AM
“Dude, admit it,” Stiles slurs. “We’d be great parents!”
Derek nods empathetically. “We would be!”
Stiles looks at him with wide eyes. “We should totally adopt a baby!”
“We should adopt a baby!”
–
Earlier that night, 9:35 PM
“Still bummed out about the breakup?” Derek asks, coming up behind Stiles. It’s a chilly night so Derek’s glad he decided to wear the dark purple cable knit sweater Laura got him as an early Christmas present.
Stiles gives an indifferent shrug. “Meh.”
“Liar.”
“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Stiles murmurs, sipping his drink. “Goddamn, Allison makes a mean drink.”
Derek huffs, taking a sip of his own coke-infused vodka. He makes a face at the burn in his throat. “She does, and it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles frowns. “What? Of course, it’s not. Allison is the best bartender ever. She knows what my heart wants and needs. She’s gifted, not pathetic.”
“I meant about your breakup, dumbass.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, it’s not pathetic.”
Stiles snorts, staring out at the city as he leans on the balcony railing. “You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves, man. Admit it. I’m twenty-eight, stuck in a job that I hate, trying to find the person of my dreams so I can finally settle down, but instead–,” he cuts off, shaking his head. “I’m wasting my time. What am I doing wrong, Derek? I don’t get it.”
Derek looks away, leaning on the railing beside Stiles. Despite the warmth of the sweater, tiny little goosebumps erupt on his skin from the way Stiles leans into him for a moment too brief for Derek’s liking before pulling away.
“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Derek finally manages to say, but this only makes Stiles roll his eyes. “No, hey, listen, you’re not! You’re a great guy. Think I’d hang out with you if you weren’t?”
“I always thought it was because of my sparkling wit.”
Derek snorts. “I think you meant to say despite your sparkling wit.”
Stiles smacks his stomach, making him smile. “Fucker.”
“Stiles, you’re a great guy and one day, you’re going to find someone who not only appreciates that but loves it. And your age is a number. I mean, look at me. I’m almost thirty-three.”
Stiles checks his watch. “Three more hours, buddy.”
“I think the most important part is to keep trying. You might strike out, but at least you’ll have tried.”
“Easy to say when you look like that,” Stiles points out, waving his hand at Derek’s general everything and it infuriates him. If there’s anything Derek hates more than cocky, drunk Stiles, it’s self-deprecating, drunk Stiles. Self-deprecating Stiles never sees what Derek sees; he sees the failed relationships, the minute insecurities, the inability to settle down.
Derek sees the Stiles that’s always trying and hoping for something more, the confidence he gives other people when they’re doubting themselves, and the ability to keep going. Derek sees the strong, loyal, honest version of Stiles and it really gets to him when Stiles turns a blind eye to all of that.
“So why am I single?” Derek asks instead. Truth be told, there’s only one reason Derek’s still single and he’s staring at it.
Stiles squints at him. “Why are you single? You can go to any bar and I bet you can get any guy to bend over backward with just one word.”
“We already made that bet and you already won,” Derek points out.
“Exactly! So why are you single?”
Derek opens his mouth to say it, to finally admit to Stiles something that he’s been wanting to say for close to two years now, but chickens out at the last second. “I don’t know.”
“Another Christmas, another lonely year.” Stiles sighs, gulping the last of his drink. “I’m gonna go inside and get another drink. Want a refill?”
Derek shakes his head. “I’m good with this, thanks.”
–
2:20 AM
“Wait, wait, wait,” Derek shushes him, making Stiles pout. “We can’t do this.”
“But Derek–”
“We have to name the baby! We can’t just call it ‘the baby’!”
Stiles looks at him with awe. “Dude, you are so right! What about Luke?”
Derek wrinkles his nose at him. He opens his mouth but closes it with a pop. “What if the baby is a girl? I like girls better. Means I can have a gun and pretend to clean it when she brings a boy over. Or a girl. Whoever she wants.”
“Leia!”
“We can’t call the baby Leia!”
“Why not?”
“Because! No, wait, because, that’s gonna – hic – our dog’s name!”
“We have a dog?” Stiles gasps, nearly knocking over the red cup. He leans over, smacking both his hands on Derek’s face and holding it tightly. “Der, you can’t lie, kay? We have a dog?”
Derek almost stumbles back at Stiles’s weight but manages to right himself. “Of course we have a dog, idiot. What family with kids doesn’t have a dog?”
Up close, Stiles’s eyes are very shiny and brown. They may also be sparkling.
“Der, we’d be a family! That’s all I’ve ever wanted!”
Derek hiccups again, blinking his eyes. He feels himself leaning over onto Stiles but Stiles steadies him. This is nice, he thinks. It should always be like this. Derek falling over and Stiles catching him.
“I’d always catch you, idiot.”
“Huh?”
“You just said–no wait, back to Leia the puppy. No, wait, before that. If Leia’s the puppy, what do we name our baby daughter?”
Derek thinks for a second. “Can we name her Natalia?”
Stiles gives him a hopeful look. “Natalia Claudia Stilinski-Hale?”
Derek beams. “ Yes!”
–
11:24 PM
“Excited for the big 3-3?” Stiles asks, humming pleasantly.
Derek shrugs, looking at him through his periphery. “Age is but a number.”
Stiles laughs. “C’mon, seriously.”
“What’s not to enjoy? I’m gonna be 33, I’ll be a real adult–”
“I thought that happened at the big 3-0?”
Derek snorts. “Apparently we didn’t get that memo.”
Stiles laughs. “Damn straight.”
“I’m–I’m just so happy, y’know? Like despite all the shitty stuff that we’ve all been through. I’m so glad I get to look around that room–” Derek says, pointing at the living room behind them. “–and see all the people that I love and care about and know that I get to have them all for another year. That I got to have all of them for 33 years and I can have them for another one.”
Stiles gives him a considering look, before slowly breaking out into a smile. “Dude, you’re so drunk. You’re getting all cheesy and shit.”
Derek shoves him half-heartedly, making him giggle. “Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Yuh huh!”
2:30 AM
“We should go adopt Luke or Natalia right now!” Stiles says after a few minutes of quiet, making Derek lose his train of thought.
“Hm? Whazzat now?” Derek squints at him. “Who’s Luke? Is that your new boyfriend?”
Stiles gives an exaggerated gasp. “How dare you, sir? I would never cheat on you!”
Derek gives him a dopey smile. “Good.” He pats Stiles on the cheek. “I’d never cheat on you either. I love you so much,” he emphasizes it by throwing his arms out, almost knocking Stiles down.
“Aw, bro! We’d be the best parents ever!”
“Obviously!” Derek grins before something occurs to him. “We can call this Operation: Bro Parenting!”
Stiles gasps. “Ohmygawwwwwd, yes!” He stumbles upright and punches the air. “Operation: Bro Parenting is a go!”
–
11:54 PM
“Dude, dude, dude,” Stiles grins at him. “You’re going to be 33 in like five minutes. Oh man!”
Derek nods. “I’m going to be so wise and old and you better listen to me. With age comes wisdom and I’ve seen the future, Stiles! I’ve seen, um, wait, you’re 28.” He starts counting on his fingers, blinking when his fingers don’t stop fusing into bigger fingers. He shakes his hands and smiles when everything’s normal again. “Yeah, I’ve seen like five years of the future, Stiles!”
Stiles’s mouth drops open and all he can think of is how pretty Stiles’s lips are and how much he just wants to touch them and kiss them and–
“Do we still have stuffed pizza crusts, Derek? There’s still Uber right? I don’t know how I’d survive without Uber, Derek!”
Derek pats him on the head. “It’s okay. We’ll go first thing in the morning. That way, we’ll beat the – hic – crowd and get the best one.”
“You’re a genius.”
–
1:20 AM
“Okay, you’re cut off,” someone who looks oddly like Scott says, taking Derek’s drink away.
“You can’t do that! My mom said never to waste food or drinks and I still have so much left!” Derek argues. “Also, tell your Scott #2 to stop. When did we get two of you anyways?”
“Yeah, bro, you can’t waste alcohol,” Stiles says wisely. He tries to reach out for the drink but Scott #1 – the rude one – does something with magic and suddenly, the red cup is gone.
“Woah, when did Scott #1 learn magic?” Derek whispers to Stiles.
“I think Scott #2 taught him.”
“True. Okay, Scott #2 can stay,” Derek declares. “I’m the birthday boy and what I say goes.”
“Huzzah!” Stiles crows.
“Yeah, you’re cut off too,” Scott #1 says and takes Stiles’s cup away but Stiles doesn’t even care. In fact, he smiles happily at Scott #1 and then winks at Derek.
Derek grins dopily and elsewhere, Scott #1 and Scott #2 facepalm.
–
2:05 AM
“You’re my bestest friend, Stiles.” Derek says. “I wish – hic – I wish we could just be one, y’know?”
“Like one person? Dude, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. That’s too much awesome in one person. The world isn’t ready for that.”
Derek nods wisely. “You’re right. Okay, we can be two people. But we should like be one unit. Like a furniture unit. Oh, oh, like a bookcase! You’re the shelf and I’m the, um, like the case without any shelves. So we’re both kinda useless but when you put me and you together, we can be a bookcase!”
Stiles claps his hands. “I’d love to be bookshelves with you! But, like who can we get to be the books?”
Derek thinks about that for a second, before snapping his fingers. “Babies!”
“Babies are books?”
“Yeah, like we can get a bunch of babies and they can be the books on our bookcase and all together we’d be the prettiest bookcase in the world!”
Stiles nods with a big smile on his face. “Yes, and we should be the classy bookcase. Like not some shitty Ikea Billy case. We should be an elegant, hand-crafted mahogany bookcase.”
“ Yes! ” Derek agrees. “Wait, but we don’t have girl parts. How can we have books without girl parts?”
Stiles gasps loudly, jumping in his spot. “We should adopt the books!”
“Yeah?”
“Dude, admit it! We’d be great parents!”
–
The next afternoon, 2:33 PM
Derek opens his eyes for less than a second before he shuts them, yanking the blanket over his head and curling up in a fetal position. Too much brightness, too much sun, too much everything. Jesus Christ, what the hell did he do last night?
He lays in bed for a solid twenty minutes, trying to get his head to stop feeling like it wants to melt into a puddle, before pushing the blanket off and slowly opening his eyes.
“Did I drink my entire apartment last night?” he asks, not expecting anyone to answer.
Which is why he jumps when he hears Laura snicker and say, “Um, yeah. Also, Stiles is here.”
At that, Derek immediately sits up, heart thudding so loudly he’s sure Laura can hear. “Stiles is here?”
“Stiles is here.”
“Why?!”
Laura raises a brow at him and motions to the living room. “I think you should see for yourself. You should probably put some pants on first though.”
Derek frowns, but does as she says, hands shaking the whole time. He tries to think of what happened the night before but comes up short. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know how he ended up in bed. All he can remember is being out on the balcony with Stiles and drinking. A lot.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he gets to the living room but he can honestly say that a black husky puppy with a red and silver bow around his neck, jumping up at the sight of Derek isn’t it. The puppy runs straight to Derek, tumbling into his legs, hopping onto its back feet and reaching up.
“What the–,” Derek asks, leaning down to pick up the puppy, checking to see if it’s a girl or boy. It’s then that he notices Stiles standing in the corner, biting his lips with nervousness. “Stiles, why is there a dog?”
Laura snorts. “Um, as much as I’d love to watch this happen, I’ll give you two sometime.” She winks at him before whisking off into her room. Stiles clears his throat, fingers fidgeting and looking oddly out of place in an apartment he should be very comfortable with.
Derek looks between the puppy and Stiles, still stunned.
The silence stretches over for too long before Derek finally clears his throat. “So, the puppy is for…?”
“That’s Leia,” Stiles squeaks. Derek frowns, because that name sounds weirdly famil–
“Oh my god,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut from the embarrassment as the memories from last night flood his brain.
“I–you–the baby store was closed today but I remembered Deaton had the puppy and she always reminded me of you whenever I saw her and I went this morning after to see if she was still there because then it would be a sign, y’know, from like the universe. And she was! She was there and Deaton was there and I was there and all I could think of was you and what we talked about last night and it just made sense. Oh, happy birthday, by the way,” Stiles rambles, eyes widening in horror at the word vomit.
Something like hope flutters in Derek’s chest. “So you got me…Leia?”
“I-I don’t think we’re ready for Luke or Natalia, but oh Jesus, I really didn’t think this through, did I?” Stiles trails off, looking mortified. Derek smiles slightly, clutching Leia tighter to himself.
“We?” Derek asks, just to be a little shit, but his smile grows bigger when Stiles flushes. “I don’t remember being asked to be a ‘we’.”
Stiles narrows his eyes at him. “Today’s Christmas, asshole. You can’t just read between the lines and save me the embarrassment?”
Derek smirks. “It’s my birthday first. I can do whatever I want.”
Stiles snorts, shuffling his feet adorably. He peers at Derek, giving him a thoughtful look. “Technically, you already asked me to be a bookcase with you remember?”
Derek looks at him, bemused, before it clicks and he flushes. “Oh fuck off.”
Stiles gasps, covering Leia’s tiny ears. “Language, Derek! We have highly impressionable minds here!”
“I hate you.”
“Liar, liar,” Stiles sings.
“For the record, I don’t want to be bro-parents with you,” Derek murmurs, staring intently into Stiles’s eyes.
“That’s cool. I don’t either,” Stiles whispers, all shy and cute. He scratches Leia behind the ear, making her yip happily. Derek leans closer to Stiles, shifting just slightly so Leia doesn’t get smushed between them. “I guess I’ll settle for being real parents with you someday.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Stiles admits sheepishly. “I guess I never really let myself hope that I could have you. It was just easier to keep looking elsewhere; it hurts less when someone you’re not really into rejects you.”
Derek looks down at Leia, heart full of warmth and happiness. “I’m glad you tried one more time. I have a feeling it’ll be the last time you’ll have to.”
They grin at each other and Derek finally feels it; that sense of completeness that he’s been aching for.
“Is…soladalary. No, no. Solid-ari-teeeee,” Stiles announces, pointing toward Derek’s inebriation-softened face with the bottle of Jack he liberated from his dad. “If. If you. Mmm hmm. If you jump, I jump.”
Derek considers this for a long, tense minute before folding his entire upper body over until his face is a few inches from his knees. “’M not jumpin’? ’M sittin’.”
“Oh.” Stiles turns his head so he can also focus on Derek’s knees for a bit. “’S good. I don’t wanna jump. Might puke, an’ thas not good.”
“You’re both idiots,” Cora butts in to say, only to roll her eyes and walk away when Stiles hisses at her.
Stiles scooches across the ground on his back until he’s close enough to pat Derek’s face. “Dun listen to her,” he says. “She’s jus’ jealous. The weird plant spores din’t get her drunk. Druuuunk.” Stiles giggles, reaching up to poke at his numb lips with his finger. “Drooonk. Draaaank. Dreeeenk. Hey, Derek?”
Something wet swipes against his hand, making Stiles shriek, high and loud, before he realizes it’s just Derek. Licking his hand. Because Stiles left it patting against Derek’s face.
“Oops. S’ry.”
“Mmm. ’M cold,” Derek says, still sounding like he’s speaking aloud the most profound wisdom of the universe. “Thank you for jumpin’ w’ me,” he slurs, rolling his head to look at Stiles, his eyes wide, their inky black lashes mere shadows in the night.
“Is not right to be drunk by y’rself,” Stiles sighs happily before abandoning the half empty bottle in favor of wrapping himself around Derek. “Am glad you got white girl wasted by the plant thingy. Not…other things.”
Derek snuggles against him, making noises like he agrees even though his mouth is half-parted and smooshed against Stiles’ neck. “Smells good,” he mutters before his light snores start echoing around their clearing.
“Fucking idiots,” Cora grumbles, but it doesn’t count because if a werewolf curses in the forest when no one is awake to hear it, it doesn’t actually happen.
Imagine Derek being so sure that the liquor won’t work, because really? Liquor specifically for werewolf? Sure. So he downs his first glass and feels nothing. It doesn’t taste great, he learns, nor does it feel like it’s working. And then he downs another glass and another. And then he starts getting really drunk, because he’s never had liquor work on him before and he’s got absolutely no tolerance
Imagine Derek being a touchy, sappy drunk. For the first little while, he’s just sitting there, taking it all in and making heart eyes at Stiles. Stiles who’s watching Isaac try to do back flips, Stiles who’s smiling and laughing with the rest of the pack when Isaac fails
And then Derek just walks over and throws himself down next to Stiles, head on his shoulder and arm around his middle. He’s practically sprawled out on him by the time Stiles registers it. “You’re cute,” he tells him, and Stiles just full body flushes because oh my god, Derek is a touchy drunk
Imagine Stiles giving the others a Help Me look, but everyone’s having a blast watching Derek cling onto Stiles, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in. They’re having a blast and probably taking pictures and recording it
Imagine Derek looking up at a blushing Stiles – Stiles whose heart is pounding hard in his chest because Derek Hale, the man he’s been crushing on for years, is clinging onto him and calling him cute – with his head rested on his shoulder and a small smile on his lips, eyes sparkling with love at the human. Imagine Derek murmuring “I want to hold your hand” and then reaching over to grab Stiles’ hand, lacing their fingers together and just holding
Imagine Derek telling him “You’ve got cute moles. I wanna kiss them, lick them, map them out with my mouth” while reaching up to slide a finger along the moles on Stiles’ neck, and Stiles just shudders, tries very hard not to pop a boner in front of everyone. Imagine Stiles trying to laugh it off, like “ahahaha, you’re drunk, Derek, stop it” and Derek just shaking his head and refusing to let go of Stiles. “No, I’m not gonna stop ‘cause- ‘cause I love you”
Imagine Stiles freezing at that, the others burst out laughing but they don’t matter. Because Derek has his face on Stiles’ shoulder and is looking at him like he’s the most beautiful and wonderful thing in the world. Which, to Derek, he is. Imagine Derek shuffling closer and maybe pressing a kiss to a mole on Stiles’ neck, whispering “I wanna marry you one day” in his ear, just for Stiles to hear. And Derek keeps doing that the whole night, keeps being clingy with Stiles, refusing to let go and refusing to stop telling him everything he loves about him
And then the morning after where the pack goes for a Hangover Breakfast, and Stiles does his absolute best to avoid Derek. Derek who looks extra grumpy that morning, probably hungover. Stiles doesn’t bring up all the love confessions from the night before, nor does he bring up the fact that Derek leaned over to kiss him, only to pass out on his chest
But then, after they’re done with their Hangover Breakfast, Derek pulls Stiles aside and apologizes. Stiles just laughs, forced of course, and tells him “nah, don’t worry about it, man. You were drunk, you didn’t mean any of it. It’s okay.” And Derek just looks at him, confused because “No, I meant every word of it. I just didn’t really plan on telling you all of that while I was drunk”
Stiles just stares at him, gapes at him, processing all of it. And then, without hesitating, he grabs Derek’s face and lunges forward to kiss him. Derek doesn’t hesitate to kiss back, his arms moving around Stiles’ middle to pull him close, and they kiss until someone (Erica, probably) yells at them to get a room
Which they do, and Derek gets to map out Stiles’ moles with his mouth
Derek is hit with a spell by a witch and it seems mostly benign, except he acts like its catnip for werewolves and generally clings to stiles and admits things he usually wouldn’t. Bonus points if he traps stiles into cuddling with him and stiles trying to escape the cuddly octopus that is Derek and making lots of squawking noises when Derek flops on top of him. extra points if the pack thinks it’s hilarious and refuses to free stiles"
Stiles is like cooking or baking and gets spices on him. Turns out some normal kitchen spice (cinnamon, ginger, cloves, whatever) is like catnip to werewolves. Cue Derek and/or Scott acting like cats with a pile of catnip all over Stiles.
“Can you rub my belly?” he asked seriously. “Excuse me?” Stiles’ eyes widened. “Can you rub my belly,” he said again, face still serious. “But maybe without making any dog jokes? I just…I feel like I need it and…and I don’t want to ask anyone else.”
OR
The one where Derek gets drugged and just wants Stiles to touch him.
2,022 I General I Sterek I Established Relationship)
Stiles and Derek have this whole Valentine’s Day thing down. Some candles, some chocolate covered strawberries, some champagne and a nice warm bath together. But a pre-gift seem to have gotten in the way, causing Derek to be loopy… or maybe Valentine’s Day is not completely ruined.
Stiles watched in mild horror as Derek let the man swing at him over and over and over again. His face was a mess and it was disconcerting to watch as it grew only worse rather than healing. The guy beating the shit out of him wasn’t much bigger than Derek himself. His expression was smug as he tossed the alpha to the floor, “Next time try to pick a fight with someone you actually have a chance against.” which really? Any other day. Any other night and Derek would have wiped the floor with that guy.
Stiles is under a lot of shit right now. He can’t sleep. He has been haunted ever since he ‘died’ in the ice so they can find the the cellar to where his dad, Melissa McCall, and Chris Argent were. It was the darkness that was left around his heart. He felt there was something big coming their way. He just couldn’t figure out what. All he knew was that his life wasn’t going to be the same after.
“Derek….why is
your hand on my ass?” Stiles’ eyes widen, trying to swallow down a small whine
as he looks around the club.
Derek tends to get a little…possessive over
him at times. Not in a romantic way- although Stiles desperately wishes-but in a back-off-this-is-my-human kind of
way. Apparently Stiles’ 18 year old
hormones, combined with his budding spark, means he’s now some kind of werewolf
cock tease. Kind of like a siren, but for
werewolves, Deaton had said, and wasn’t thatjust what Stiles had wanted to hear from his
slightly shifty neighbourhood vet.
Yup, apparently
Stiles Stilinski actually dogot a booty and apparently all the local
weres want a piece of it. It’s flattering, most of the time. Until it’s not.
Stiles can usually take care of himself, but he can’t go around carrying his
trusty bat with him all the time, and he’s still got a lot to learn about
protection spells before he can actually do one.
And so, enter Derek,
who, for some unknown, slightly painful to Stiles’ long suffering crush on him
and his eyebrows reason, is totally
cool with playing the part of Stiles’ pretend boyfriend when they go out.
(The fact that Derek even goes outwith Stiles at all is baffling in itself, but
hey, Stiles isn’t going to question a good thing. If Derek gets something out
of watching him get his groove on heain’t
gonna ask no questions.)
Usually, Derek just growls a lot when Stiles’
hormones, siren song, whatever, starts triggering overzealous reactions in
people, sometimes pulling him wonderfully close and scenting
him, just a little. (Stiles is super proud of himself for not whimpering during
these moments. He deserves medals, or, at the very least, milkshakes. The good cholesterol
killing kind he never lets his dad have.) Never though, never has Derek touched his ass.
Stiles isn’t too
sure how he feels about it. Should he back up into it? Is Derek trying to
initiatesomething? Shit, maybe he hit his head and
he’s dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time Stiles has dreamt about Derek
groping him in public. (Shut up, he has an exhibitionist kink okay? It’s
normal. Erica said so.)
“Shhh, Stiles, just
let it happen,” Derek…giggles?
Swinging around, Stiles’
eyes widen even further, a surprised laugh catching in his throat. “Are you…are
you drunk?”
Derek never gets drunk. Ever.
“I don’t know,”
Derek frowns, eyebrows pulling down adorably. “What is drunk supposed to feel
like?” He looks up then, face completely earnest, and Stiles’ heart kind of
stops. Not even Scott manages to pull of that
puppy level of cute.
Stiles has caught
glimpses of Derek’s softer side before. He rarely lets people see it, but it’s
there, and Stiles wants nothing more than to find ways to coax it out of him
for the rest of his life.
(He’ll admit, he’s
in pretty deep.)
“It’s different for
everyone,” he finally manages to get out, licking his lips, unable to help it, breath
stuttering as he watches Derek track the movement. “How do you, uh, feel?”
“Wrong,” Derek…Derek
actually pouts. Oh my god. “I like it
when I can touch you, makes me feel safe, and I’m not touching you. So I feel…unsafe.”
Derek’s frown deepens, like he’s a little confused by his own words, but then
he’s looking at Stiles in that way he
sometimes does when he’s struggling with something, like Stiles is the only
person in the whole world who understands him. It takes Stiles’ breath away
every time, that trust, and even now it takes him a few moments to recollect
himself, to focus on what Derek is saying.
shealwaysreads 