Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

AUTHOR’S NOTE: 

This is a stand-alone fic and is not linked to my story Somebody’s Gotta Tell Him.

______________________

How Stiles had been nominated to act as teen-Derek’s chaperone, she would never know. It mainly boiled down to the fact that, after the danger from Kate had passed, Scott was tied up in his own drama and there was no extra room at the McCall residence. That left Stiles in her current predicament – standing in her living room with Derek and her father, asking if Derek could stay in their spare bedroom until the whole de-aging magical whammy eventually wore off.

Thus far, it was not going well.

Noah eyed the teenage werewolf with barely concealed apprehension, taking in the unhealthy measure of swagger and self-confidence oozing off the kid. He was entirely too good looking and built for 16 years old and it was clear that he damned well knew it.

Derek smiled back at the Sheriff, self-assured and showing off just a few too many teeth to look strictly human.

“Alright. Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” Noah began, rubbing his forehead as he prayed for strength. “You want me to allow a teenaged boy to sleep directly across the hall from my teenaged daughter with zero parental supervision while I’m pulling overnight shifts?”

“Daaaad!” Stiles groaned. “It’s still Derek! I mean, yes, he is a miniaturized version of himself at the moment, but he’s still the same person.” She smacked Derek on the chest with the back of her hand as she urged, “Tell him, dude.”  

Derek’s eyes flicked from his chest to her hand a few times in palpable disbelief before his face scrunched up in annoyance.

Stiles’ jaw dropped, her head tilting to the side as she eyed him suspiciously. No way. No freaking way was he this predictable. And yet… No, yeah. She totally recognized his expression anywhere. Which meant she knew exactly what came next. And so, she waited for Derek to open his mouth so that she could say at the exact same time:

“Don’t call me ‘dude’.”

“Don’t call me ‘dude’,” Derek groused, only to flinch in surprise as her voice echoed his, matching his tone and words perfectly.  

“Oh, Lord,” Noah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Stiles smiled smugly and held up her hands as if she had just completely proven her point. “See? Same old, predictable Sourwolf. Trust me, being trapped under the same roof with me will provide all the motivation he needs to transform back of his own volition. I give him 24 hours tops.”

When Noah’s hand dropped from his face, he found Derek eyeing Stiles in a mixture of bewilderment and, alarmingly, open wonder.

SHIT.

Noah returned to scowling, his eyes locking on the werewolf and voice taking on the unmistakable tone of a protective father. “Derek…”

The teen flinched, looking back at Noah guiltily, as if he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Noah’s scowl grew more severe. “You may be young enough at the moment that it would not technically be illegal were you to take any liberties with my daughter… my only daughter…”

“Oh, God. Kill me now,” Stiles groaned as she let her head fall back.  

Noah patted his gun as he continued. “…but I can assure you, I would feel no guilt whatsoever shooting you in the ass with one of the wolfsbane rounds your adult-self so kindly provided me with. Are we clear?”

Derek paled considerably and nodded. “Crystal clear, sir.”

Noah grunted incredulously. He knew it would take more than the threat of physical harm to scare off a cocky, smitten 16-year-old boy. He turned to Stiles. She was Noah’s only hope of preventing the likelihood of this going badly. He was relying on Stiles’ impulse control here – and wasn’t that just a horrifying position to find himself in? He really did not want to have to leave a litter of furry grand-puppies fatherless.

“I’m heading to the station. Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” he begged as he kissed her cheek.

Stiles worried her bottom lip and eyed her father curiously as he pulled on his coat. “Like, did you have something specific in mind that I should avoid, or just anything generally stupid?” she asked in feigned ignorance as she flailed her hands. “Because I gotta be honest, you’re casting a pretty wide net there, Dad. I mean I have such a vast and varied catalogue of stupid acts I could partake in on any given evening that –”

Noah clamped his hand over Stiles’ mouth and sighed when he felt her smile behind it. “Don’t do anything generally stupid. Please.”

Stiles gave her father a mock salute when he released her. “Got it, pops. Now, get out there and catch some bad guys. But no supernatural ones, please! Leave those to our resident beasties. Even the beasties that happen to be presently pint-sized.” She grinned over at Derek at that, earning a harsh glower in reply.  

Noah shook his head and hoped for the best as he headed out the door.

As soon as he was gone, Stiles turned towards Derek and clapped her hands together. And then her lips were moving, and Derek was left struggling to follow along.

“Right. So, you’re probably starving. I mean you typically are after a battle, but add on top of that the fact that you’ve still got at least two solid growth spurts ahead of you and you’ve gotta be ready to hulk out and eat a whole herd of cattle at this point, right? Feel free to raid the fridge and cabinets for whatever. If you’re still hungry in a little while, I’ll order some pizzas. Or wait…” Her eyes narrowed on him suspiciously, passing over his physique as she asked, “Are you already in that whole ‘my body is a temple’ stage?” She shrugged, her features softening as she grudgingly conceded, “Which, I mean, okay, to be fair, it will most definitely classify as a monument to masculinity when you’re fully grown.” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes locking on a point on the far wall and going out of focus for a few seconds before she blinked rapidly and plowed on in her tangent. “Any-who, are you still eating normal teenage stuff at this age? Or am I going to have to go find some of that organic, raw, free range, pricey bullshit you usually eat? I mean, I’m lost here. You didn’t exactly come with a manual. Like ‘The Proper Care and Feeding of Your Growing Grouchy Wolf’.” She snorted to herself at that, declaring in amusement, “Oh, man, I should totally write that.” She laughed again, then waved her hands, barely pausing for him to even attempt to formulate a reply to any of her previous questions. “Whatever, we’ll figure it out. Um… Feel free to play any of the games on the PlayStation. You can watch whatever you want or order a movie if you see something you’re into. I’ll just make you pay me back for it when you’re big again.”

“You talk… so much,” Derek breathed in a mixture of horror and awe.

Stiles cracked up at that. “Oh, you have no idea. This is but the tip of the iceberg, big guy.” Her features twisted as soon as the nickname left her mouth. “Or shit, wait… I guess like… ‘medium-sized guy’ at the moment? Hmm. Gonna have to work on that.”

And then, without any warning at all, she turned to head upstairs, leaving Derek floundering.  

“Whoa – wait. Where are you going?” he asked in confusion as he caught her by the wrist.

“Um, hello, paws?” she said, eyeing his hands until he let her go. “Thanks. Geez. I’m going to get your room ready and do my homework… if that’s okay with you?” she snarked. When he reluctantly nodded, she turned and clomped noisily up the stairs grumbling under her breath, “Grabby wolf.”

Derek’s face contorted in amusement and uncertainty. A conversation with Stiles left one feeling as if they had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. But like… in a puzzlingly pleasant way? It was really weird. And disorienting. He had no idea how to handle the human, but it seemed he at least had a temporary break from trying to figure her out. He sighed and headed into the kitchen to find something to eat.

Chapter Text

Stiles did end up ordering pizza a couple of hours later. Evidently not needing to confirm whether he was still hungry after raiding her fridge (he definitely was), she placed the order from her room. She only bounced her way downstairs when the delivery guy knocked on the door.

They sat together in the kitchen, eating silently at first.

Derek ate without pause, unable to carry a conversation as his mind busily pondered Stiles’ scent. For some unknown reason, ever since she had returned from upstairs, she smelled like him. More specifically, like older him. He glanced over at her a few times, half expecting to find her wearing a blatantly oversized shirt or hoodie or something, but she had not changed clothes. It was so widespread. It clung to her hair, skin, and clothing. It was as if she had rolled around in his scent the entire time she was doing her homework. It was terribly distracting. The smell was blatantly possessive. Claiming. Like a note from his future-Alpha-self saying: ‘MINE.’ His wolf preened at that. Any other werewolf would pick up on the warning with ease. He had to fight to resist the urge to investigate – to find out which locations of her body had been most thoroughly marked.

He frowned thoughtfully into his meal, absolutely demolishing two large meat lovers’ pies while Stiles watched in amusement.

“God, you’re such an animal,” she teased, taking a sip of her soda. “I could totally sell tickets to watch you eat, dude.”

“Quit calling me –” he grumbled around a mouthful.

“How about a compromise?” Stiles suggested. “How do you feel about ‘were-dude’? ‘Dude-wolf’? Der-dude?” she offered instead, then grinned in reply to his glare. A second later, she gasped before pointing at him and crying out gleefully, “DUDE-REK!” She gave a victorious little grunt and fist pumped at the look of utter disgust he gave in response. Giggling to herself, she relented. “Okay. Fine. Shut up. Stop yelling at me with your eyebrows. I’m working on it. But you have to understand, ‘dude’ is like, a cornerstone of my vocabulary that you’re forcing me to uproot. It’s like… a loadbearing word. The entirety of my linguistic empire may very well fall to ruin as a result of its removal.”

Derek rolled his eyes and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Oh, somehow I think you’ll still manage to run that mouth just fine without it.”

He smiled at the laughter that comment earned and took a moment to study Stiles appraisingly. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her plate balanced on top of her knees, her ass using her heels as a seat, defying the very laws of gravity with the precarious way she was perched in her chair. Jesus, she couldn’t even sit normally.

“So… what’s our deal?” he finally asked, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer.

Stiles frowned and looked up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He pointed back and forth between them. “You and me. Us. What’s our deal?” he pressed.

Stiles arched a brow. “Um, no deal?” she answered awkwardly. “I mean I know we already filled you in on the horror highlight reel of everything you’ve missed but…” She thought back, trying to come up with a summation of their non-relationship. “We’ve had a lot of misunderstandings along the way. Admittedly contributed to, in part, by my unfortunate paranoid response to learning about the existence of the supernatural. And then, you know, as a result, suddenly finding myself in situations of mortal peril 24/7. And, of course, there was your – frankly breathtaking – lack of communication skills. Basically, you and I started out hating each other. And we were all dealing with the whole shitstorm surrounding your Uncle Creeper Wolf’s little stint as a psycho killer and trying not to get killed ourselves. I mean, personally, I think he’s still nuttier than squirrel shit, but as far as I know, he’s not out there actively murdering anyone at the moment. So, I guess that’s progress?”

She paused, frowning and licking sauce from her long, slender fingers in a thoroughly distracting manner as she considered it. Derek’s brain completely malfunctioned for a few seconds as he became fixated on the combination of her tongue, lips, and fingers.

Oblivious to his struggle, after a moment, she nodded to herself and declared, “Yeah, by Peter standards, that is definitely progress.”

Derek shook his head, trying to focus. “So, um, why exactly did we hate each other?”

Stiles shrugged. “Well, bodies were piling up. My best friend had just been bitten by an honest to god werewolf and then wham! There you were, all creep-tastic. It seemed sort of like a no-brainer that you were the one killing everyone, and I kind of had you arrested for murder at one point, which – from the bottom of my heart, my bad,” she proclaimed, clutching her heart in overly dramatic apology. “I was more than a little terrified of you for a while – which you so did not help by lurking in the shadows, glaring all the time, and delighting in making me flinch. Plus, there was all the shoving, growling, and being an all-around grouch. It’s how you earned the very special name ‘Sourwolf’.” With a pleased smile, she recalled, “I even got that on a dog tag for you for Christmas last year. You did not find that nearly as amusing as I did, though,” she pouted. With a sigh, she went on, “Anyway… where was I going with this? Oh, right! Reasons we hated each other in the beginning. Um… oh, there was that time we thought you were actually dead, soooo we kind of used you to explain away a werewolf rampage. But then you turned out to not be dead, which – awkward! So you were a wanted fugitive and you had to hide out in my bedroom for a while. You were not a happy camper, I assure you.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed at that. “I was hiding out in your bedroom?” he asked, watching closely for any indication there was more to that story.

“Yeah. Fun times,” Stiles recalled sarcastically. “You were there to scowl accusatorially at me all hours of the day and night. 2 AM? Angry Derek. 7 PM? Angry Derek. Such a joy.”

“When was that?” he asked, figuring it must have been too long ago to explain her current saturation with his scent.  

“Uh, like over a year and a half ago? Man, time flies when you’re trying to survive,” she mused. “But after all that, I guess we sort of became… frenemies? Like you were still all growly and openly hostile and you clearly contemplated ways to bring about my untimely demise at least once every few minutes, but like, in a nicer way?” She tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as she considered it.

Derek arched a brow at her descriptions of his future self. He sounded like an absolute prick.

Stiles went on, “But then I guess after saving each other’s asses so many times, it shifted more to grudgingly working together. Think: unspoken mutual respect, drizzled with a liberal amount of vexation on your part. I mean we don’t hate each other anymore. I still annoy the crap out of you, but I think you’ve reluctantly come to accept that I’m useful. You obviously would never refer to me as a friend. We don’t like, hang out or anything. Unless, of course, you count the fact that you climb through my window fairly regularly without warning to ask for help with research or to warn me of the latest big bad in town.”

Derek arched a brow at that. It still didn’t explain her scent, but at least he knew his older self was definitely making regular appearances in her bedroom. He really needed to get in there to investigate.

A second later, she was laughing to herself as she remembered, “I actually just put a mat on the roof outside my window that says, ‘Wipe Your Paws.’ Man, and older-you hasn’t even seen it yet. Ah, I can’t wait. It’s gonna be freakin’ hilarious.”

Derek huffed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You said we ‘saved each other’s asses’?”

Stiles scrunched up her face as if it were obvious. “Sure. Loads of times.”

“Such as…?” he prompted, wanting to hear a bit of their history.

She arched a brow as she thought back. “Well, there was the time you stopped your Uncle and his crazy ass nurse from murdering me. Which – seriously, greatly appreciated.

“And there was that time you got shot and were walking around with a wolfsbane bullet in your arm. I ended up driving your half-dead, absolutely rude ass around all day, hiding you from the hunters while Scott tracked down another bullet for you to use to cure yourself. You literally almost forced me to saw your arm off. Like, the bone saw was in my hands, tourniquet was on, you were yelling at me to do it, and I was actually about to pull the trigger and be traumatized for life when Scott stumbled in at the last possible second.” She curled her lip at another glob of tomato sauce on her hand, wiping it off this time rather than licking it. “That memory features in many of my nightmares, so yeah, thanks for that shit.

“Then there was the time one of your betas was about to shred me into itty bitty pieces and you jumped between us, all red eyes and roaring, and forced him to submit. You even gave me a machismo, ‘I’m the Alpha’ growly response when I asked how you’d done it.” Stiles laughed and shook her head at the memory. “Aw, man. You’re such a tool sometimes,” she said, although it was said too fondly to feel like an insult.

Derek watched as she took another bite of pizza, only to immediately begin trying to talk around it as politely as possible. As if she did not want to talk with her mouth full, but she physically could not prevent herself from voicing thoughts as quickly as they popped into her head.

“Mmm! Oh… and there was that time you were paralyzed by the Kanima and fell in the pool at the school,” she recalled, chewing faster to free up her mouth. “That was some top-shelf pissed-off Derek Hale right there. Such a grump. You’d figure I would have been the grouchy one. I mean, I had to tread water holding up your heavy wolfy ass for more than 2 freaking hours before Scott finally showed up to help us. And – lemme tell you – you as an adult? WAY heavier. Like easily an extra 50 lbs. of muscle.”

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. His mouth dropped open as he eyed her slender form in amazement. “And you…? You held me up…?”

“For 2 mother lovin’ hours. That’s right,” she confirmed, pulling a piece of pepperoni from her pizza and popping it into her mouth with a grin. At his flabbergasted look, she chuckled. “Yeah. Tell me about it. I don’t know how the hell I managed it, either. Just pure, stubborn will, I suppose. I swear I still get muscle cramps remembering that night.” She winced for dramatic effect and massaged her bicep. “Hey, maybe I can convince grownup you to give me a gift card for a massage as a thank you?”

Derek was too busy trying to understand what had happened that night to pay her any mind. “Wait. So, where was the Kanima while we were in the pool? Where was Scott? Why didn’t you just run?”

Stiles’ features twisted. “Uh, in the interest of full disclosure, you did tell me to run… but then you were hit with the venom and I knew you were gonna be helpless in less than a minute. That venom is no joke. I had already been hit with it a few days earlier. I knew you were going to be down for the count.”

Derek sputtered and held up his hand, unable to process what he was hearing. “What the hell? You had already somehow managed to survive it once and you didn’t run when you saw it? You do realize you’re human, right?”

“It has occurred to me,” she snarked. “But the Kanima was literally right freaking there and could have killed you as soon as you were down. I tried to help you get away… but then you fell into the pool, so I jumped in. What was I supposed to do, just let you drown? And as for Scott, he was off with his girlfriend and her psycho family trying to find the bestiary.” Stiles picked at her pizza and frowned. “He actually hung up on me when I tried to call him for help. I had one freaking chance to call – hell, I had to let you fall under the water to do it. And he. Hung. UP. Ugh.” She shook her head. “I had to toss the phone again to pull you back up to the surface. So, yeah, we were stuck after that. It was just lucky for us that the Kanima was scared of water.”

Derek sat back in his seat heavily, eyeing Stiles in bewilderment. It seemed more like he was lucky he had found himself in the presence of such a determined human that night.

Stiles continued her trip down memory lane, recalling fights with all manner of supernatural creatures and hunters. When he pressed her for information on her dealings with the Argents, however, she became evasive for the first time. Her answers became increasingly clipped and she did her best to steer the conversation away from the subject. Like a dog on a bone (a comparison which she was all too happy to make), he had latched on and eventually dragged a confession out of her.

“Okay, well…” She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. “Big-you doesn’t know about this. I mean… Not that it would matter, but… the Argents have always been a sore subject for you for obvious reasons, so I just sort of… never said anything. And besides, you had a lot going on that night, what with being forced to bite a geriatric Argent psychopath… And everyone else was super busy with everything that was going on… And afterwards, well, there was just problem after problem, and we were worrying about the Alpha pack and there didn’t really seem to be any point in mentioning –”

Derek watched as her posture gradually changed as she spoke. Instead of a ball of energy bursting outward at every opportunity, she slowly drew in on herself. It was disturbing to witness. He immediately decided that he hated it. She was meant to be happy chaos: loud and erratic and joking. Anything less felt impossibly wrong.

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted quietly, waiting for her to reluctantly meet his eyes. “What happened?”

Stiles gritted her teeth, swallowing back the fast-rising lump in her throat. He sounded too much like his older self in that moment and there was still this small, broken part of her that wished she could have run to him that night and had him make it all better. She had fantasized about it at least a million times while she recovered. But that wasn’t reality. In reality, she had dealt with it alone.

“It’s no big deal. I just sort of ended up… getting taken and uh… tortured… a bit,” she answered in a jarringly subdued voice, shrugging repeatedly throughout the halted admission. She was shredding her pizza crust into tiny bits, swallowing with notable difficulty. “It was supposed to be a message to Scott, but, uh… I made sure it was never received. No one… um… No one actually knows about it. So if you could keep it to yourself, that would be awesome.”

Considering the severity of the stories Stiles had gleefully regaled him with up until this point, he realized all too well just how much she must be downplaying this event.

“What… did they do to you?” Derek growled, feeling his eyes flash as he fought back a surge of rage at the thought of her being hurt. His wolf was frothing at the mouth with the instinct to protect, to put down the threat, but there was nowhere to direct his rising fury. It left him struggling for control. Adding to the problem was the fact that he could smell her emotions as she recalled her experiences – fear and shame and sorrow and intense loneliness. She had been left to deal with this alone. Her pack had failed her. He had failed her. And even now, she was reluctant to tell him the truth. “And how can no one know about it?” he ground out. “Didn’t you go to the hospital? Didn’t we see the injuries?”

“Uh, no and no?” Stiles answered with a wince, fidgeting anxiously, and avoiding his eyes at all costs. “Like I said, everyone was busy. I just sort of… bandaged and wrapped and iced everything down as needed and waited for it all to heal. I mean, I didn’t see anyone for like a month after, so it was pretty easy to hide.”

“Tell me.” Derek demanded. “Everything.”

Stiles’ heartrate doubled and her breathing grew shallow. After a moment, she managed to calm herself enough to reply. “Can I not?” she whispered, meeting his eyes with tears glittering in her own.

Derek partially shifted in response to her uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. He had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to hold it back. It took several minutes before he was able to retract his claws and fangs.

“Right! So, no more trips down memory lane!” Stiles announced in an overly cheerful tone, surprising him with the fact that she was now standing in the living room. “Want to watch a movie? I could go for a movie,” she declared as she turned on the TV. “Still too early to hit the hay. We would be the shame of teenagers across the globe if we turned in at this hour. I mean not that real-you is still a teenager, but you’re only 23, so not exactly ready for an AARP membership, either. Do you want popcorn? Do you even have any room left after all that pizza? Whatever, I’m making popcorn. Feel free to steal some or make your own. Ooh, I want chocolate, too. Definitely bringing some out from my emergency reserves. Which you know nothing about, by the way. My father must never know there are Reese’s peanut butter cups in this house, or he will call out of work for a week to find them. Or maybe enlist the help of Scott to sniff them out.”

He opened his eyes and watched in a daze as she flitted around the kitchen, busily putting together a mass of snacks and sodas before loading them all up on the coffee table. Once her popcorn was finished, she went and jumped onto the couch, sitting with her legs crossed up under her body and a pillow across her lap.

With a bit of effort, Derek managed to shake off his lingering rage and joined her on the couch. She had returned to her earlier full-speed chattering, and he found it oddly soothing. Her manic rambling settled his wolf for some strange reason.

They watched some superhero movie Stiles loved, but she talked through the entirety of it. He was mostly silent, his attention split between studying her animated movements and thinking over what he had learned. There was something about her that left him entranced. She was beautiful and clever, and also clumsy and crazy. He liked the way she filled the silence – it was impossible to feel alone in her presence.

He let his eyes pass over her features, over the lines of her body, and found himself licking his lips hungrily. He wanted her. His wolf wanted her. Why the hell should he resist? This girl had risked her life for him on numerous occasions. She was loyal, brave, and gorgeous. And plus, she was still absolutely covered in his scent. It was driving him crazy. He balled his hands up into fists to resist the urge to lean over and kiss her, guide her to lay back on the couch, cover her body with his own, have her wrap those long legs around his hips, grind his hard-on into her through their jeans…

Fuck, he had to have her.

When she stood and stretched, her breasts pressed deliciously against the thin material of her shirt. The material rode up just enough to expose a strip of smooth skin above her jeans. Derek had to bite back a groan.

“You ready to head up?” she asked, unaware of his plight. “I have some research to do if you’re not tired yet and feel up for helping. With you speaking Spanish and all, you could probably help me cover more ground while I look up Aztec rituals, you know? A lot of the source texts I’m gonna find will be in Spanish.”

“Sure,” he answered, helping her clean up and shut things down for the night before following her up the stairs.

He bit his bottom lip and measured his movements, keeping pace so her cute little ass was in front of his face as they went up the steps. He seriously wanted to fucking bite it. With human teeth, but damn. He needed to get into those jeans like yesterday.

Chapter Text

As her bedroom door closed, Stiles felt Derek’s hand on her elbow, slowly turning her toward him.

“Derek, what – ?” she began to ask, only to trail off abruptly as she found herself backed against the wall.

A memory instantly replayed in her mind in response, and she drew a tremulous breath as she fought back her instantaneous and intense arousal. She could recall the warring fear and excitement she experienced when last in this position. This time, however, was different for so many reasons. Not only the amount of history she had shared with Derek since that day and how much respect she now held for him, but also because this Derek – the one gazing down at her in this moment with such blatant interest – was several years too young.

She stared up into the simultaneously familiar and all-new face as she asked worriedly, “What are you doing?” 

He flashed a cocky, self-assured smile, bracketing her shoulders with his hands against the wall before leaning closer.

“Testing a theory,” he whispered with a wink.  

Stiles’ heart leapt up into her throat as he leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes locked with hers as long as possible as he moved, until he was bringing his nose to the nape of her neck and breathing her in. Her lips parted as her eyes closed of their own accord. Purely on instinct, her head fell back against the wall as she offered her throat up to him.

Derek rumbled in approval at what he was smelling, pressing his body firmly against hers and bringing his hand behind her head, threading his fingers through her hair. She was instantly shaking like a leaf in response to the unexpected intimacy. Her nipples drew into tight peaks as goosebumps covered her body. Moving his mouth up the side of her throat, his lips dragged against her soft skin as he drew in deep, open mouthed breaths.

Swallowing hard, she struggled to find her voice. “You need to sto–”

Derek’s mouth claimed hers hungrily, effectively swallowing up the protest before she could voice it.

His pleased groan matched the needy moan that escaped her. He kissed her breathless for several minutes, seemingly committing the taste of her to memory.

Finally pulling back, he whispered against her lips, “…mmm… taste so fucking good…”

Stiles’ brain was a puddle of insanely turned-on goo, but she somehow managed to snap herself out of it enough to speak, albeit dazedly. “Derek… Hey. Stop. You have to stop.”

He backed away slightly. Not releasing her entirely, but at least his toned body was no longer pressing up against the length of her. With one hand pressed to the wall beside her head, he brought his other up to run his fingertips across her cheek, dragging his thumb along her thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

Tilting his head to the side, he gazed into her eyes. “Why? I know you want me. Fuck, just look at you, baby. You’re trembling with how bad you want it,” he groaned, his voice turning wrecked with need. “I want you, too. So much. You’re so fucking sexy. Let me take care of you.”

To punctuate that offer, he pressed his body against hers again, rolling his hips to make it clear how mutual the desire was. Stiles whimpered at the feeling of his hard length straining against his jeans. She had never felt so empty in all her life. The only thought playing on repeat in her head was how amazing it would feel to have him buried inside of her already. Her body was shaking so hard with need she could barely catch her breath.

“Don’t say no,” Derek pleaded breathily against her lips as he shook his head. “Don’t say no, Stiles. I swear, I’ll make you feel so fucking good if you let me in. Let me in, baby.”

“Jesus Christ,” she whimpered desperately as her brain short circuited in response to his words.

Overcome with arousal, Stiles’ body relaxed into his touch. When he crashed his hot mouth against hers, all tongue and teeth and wild hunger, she found herself kissing him back just as enthusiastically. She vaguely realized she was gripping the back of his head with both hands, tugging on his hair, and earning the most delicious hisses and groans from him in response.

But reality was lurking in the back of her terribly aroused brain, and the image of Derek’s usual scowling face served as effectively as a bucket of ice water to snap her out of it.

With great difficulty, she squeezed her eyes shut and withdrew her hands from him. She tilted her head down, pulling her mouth out of his reach to end the kiss.

Panting heavily, Derek backed away slightly, trying to understand why they had stopped. “Stiles?” he asked, and his worried tone sounded so achingly familiar in that moment, she had to open her eyes to confirm he had not somehow returned to normal mid-kiss.

“We can’t… We can’t do this,” she managed breathlessly.

“Why not?” he asked, sounding profoundly confused.

Stiles laughed bitterly, bringing her hands up to cover her face as she drew a few steadying breaths. “Can you maybe back up a little bit?” she asked, her voice muffled by her hands. “I can’t think when you’re this close, let alone form coherent sentences.”

Grudgingly, Derek took a couple of steps back. “I don’t get it,” he admitted sincerely. “Why can’t we?”

Sighing heavily, Stiles allowed her hands to drop. “Because you… normal you… the you that’s supposed to be here now… THAT you, definitely doesn’t want this. Doesn’t want me.”

Derek arched a brow. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

She rolled her eyes. “Trust me. Other-you is not into me. Like, at all.”

He scoffed as he declared, “Then that me is a complete moron.”

Stiles snorted. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.” She frowned as she realized that would involve telling him why his younger self had come to such a conclusion, and she was quickly shaking her head. “Actually, no. No, no, no, scratch that. I will not tell him because that would involve having to explain… this…” She pointed back and forth between them and paled considerably at the thought.

“Why would that be so bad?” he asked.

She sighed heavily. “Because you… the other you… would never want this. Like ever. Like not in a million years. Like, maybe you are into spastic, annoying, lanky, bookish humans at your present age, but you must outgrow it at some point because I swear you barely tolerate my existence most days.”

He frowned severely. “Is that really how you see yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” she answered as if it was a no-brainer.

He shook his head. “I don’t see you like that. I wouldn’t see you like that at any age.”

Stiles threw up her hands and huffed. “Welp, agree to disagree, pal.”

Derek grunted in irritation before turning and walking around the room for a moment, scrutinizing the space. “You really don’t know, do you?” he asked and shook his head in disbelief. The room was so thick with his scent, he could smell himself with every breath he took. “Do you not realize how thoroughly I have marked your bedroom? The air in here is basically one giant warning to other weres to back off.”

Narrowing his eyes on one of the strongest scent sources, he picked up her favorite pillow. Peeling back the pillowcase, he sniffed at the pillow inside with a smirk.

“See? Like right here. You cuddle this one against you while you sleep. And you know what? It completely smells like me.” He held it up like Exhibit A in his argument. “I guarantee you; I scented this pillow heavily on purpose knowing that you would get my scent all over you every night. Why would I be marking territory like this if I ‘barely tolerate’ you? Why would I make sure everyone could tell you were under my protection?”

Stiles arched a brow at that, trying and failing to stop her brain from picturing future Derek in her room alone, in her bed, rubbing his face and chest and stomach and… oh, sweet, merciful JESUS… all over her pillow.

“Uh…” she tried, but shuddered and had to give herself a forceful mental shake.

He smiled knowingly.

She cleared her throat and barely managed, “No idea. Maybe you’re just calling dibs on your go-to research human?” she offered with a shrug. “I have no idea what goes on in that broody brain of yours.”

“That’s exactly my point. You don’t really know. But I’m telling you: future me wants you. Badly. And I don’t know why I’m not acting on it. Maybe I’m waiting for you to turn 18. Or maybe I really do hate myself so much that I think I don’t deserve to be with someone like you. But no matter what stupid reason my human side has for holding back, my wolf still ensured you were marked as ours.”

Stiles winced guiltily and played with her fingers. “See… I really don’t think you should be saying that stuff to me, either. If the older-you didn’t tell me, you must have had a reason. And this feels like I am reading your fucking diary or something. Like I’m invading your privacy just by hearing it.”

Derek blinked and reminded deadpan, “I was literally in your bedroom without your knowledge rubbing my body all over your bed to make sure you smelled like me. Seems like there’s mutual invasions of privacy going on here.”

Stiles took a deeeeeep, choppy breath at that visual and shook her head again.

Fuck, had he been naked?

Her imagination decided the answer was most definitely YES and played out the scene in graphic detail.  

God. She was never going to look at her bed the same again. She was so sleeping naked from this day forward. Like, the very minute they were finished this conversation, she was kicking Derek out and rolling around in her sheets while getting off to that image.

“Okay… that’s fair,” she finally managed, her voice breaking as she fought to slow down her thundering heart. She held up a finger and closed her eyes. “But I am choosing to forgive you scent marking my bed because I realize it was instinctual.” She took a deep breath before she rambled, “Like, I get that being a ‘born-wolf’ doesn’t mean you have an innate superpower of smoldering and being dark and mysterious. I mean, yes, you totally have that, but that’s not my point. What I mean is I fully understand that being a ‘born-wolf’ means that half of your consciousness is literally a freaking wolf. So, yeah, I get that you’re gonna have canine instincts, too. And I get that they won’t always mesh with human societal norms. We used to have a German Shepherd named Opiekun when I was a kid, and he used to knock over my hamper and roll around in my clothes. He stole my dirty socks and underwear like, all the time, and would chew on them and hide them in his bed. His behavior from a human perspective? Holy shit, so fucking creepy! Like, grounds for a restraining order level of creepy. But from a canine perspective? Completely natural behavior. So, your wolf gets a pass. Clearly your human side didn’t want to get close, but your wolf wanted me safe. You compromised between the two. By putting your scent in my bed, you were able to offer a layer of protection without touching me. I totally get it. HOWEVER, it means you clearly made a choice in how your human side interacted with me directly. You decided on your boundaries. And I am going to respect those boundaries.”

Derek studied her for a moment, awed by the level of understanding she had for how his mind and instincts worked.

“But… you want me,” he said, frowning as he approached her slowly. “Like… so fucking bad. I can taste it. And God, I want you, too.” He closed his eyes to breathe her in. When he opened them, they were lit up electric blue. His wolf was fighting for control. And damn it, that should not be as hot as she was finding it to be. “You smell so damned good…” he growled. “Like mine and need… and, fuck, you’re so wet for me…” he groaned shamelessly.

Stiles’ knees trembled and heart raced.

Derek’s eyelids grew heavy. He looked intoxicated as he breathed through his mouth, his fangs descending and jaw working restlessly as he tasted the air. His voice was low and rough as he told her, “I just want to peel off those jeans, spread your thighs, and take you apart with my tongue. I want to put you up against that wall and fuck you so good, you’ll lose your voice screaming my name. I want to make it so you never want me anywhere other than buried inside of you ever again, so deep you swear you can taste me in the back of your throat. I want to pump you so full of my cum, you’ll smell like me always.”

Stiles whimpered pitifully as her jaw dropped open and brain suffered a systemwide failure.

“Holy… fuck,” she gasped, leaning forward, and bracing herself with her hands on her knees. “I am not equipped to handle this level of temptation,” she declared, because, for real? So much yes to everything he just said. If he were his regular age, she would have launched herself at him. Unfortunately, that was not an option, and her poor, Derek’s-tongue-deprived clit was grieving that fact. She squeezed her thighs together and exhaled choppily. “Regular-you owes me a mother fucking gold medal for restraint after this.”

She swallowed hard as she watched him losing his own battle for control. She knew she might stand a chance at talking down his human side, but she had a feeling the wolf would be far less inclined to listen to reason, not to mention a whole HELL of a lot more convincing. She did not stand a chance of saying no to the wolf. She would not be able to recall why she ever wanted to say no if he got a hold of her.

“Easy now…” she urged anxiously. “Rein it in, big guy. Alpha, Beta, Omega… right?” she whispered. “Breathe… Although, maybe stop breathing through your mouth so much, though?” she suggested with a nervous smile.

Derek’s entire body was rigid as he reluctantly fought to follow her words.

It took several tense moments for him to regain control.

He was breathing heavily when he managed to come back to himself, looking exhausted as he met her gaze. “Stiles… are you sure?” he asked desperately. “I mean… I could be back to normal tomorrow and not even remember this. Why not just let us have one night?”

Stiles winced at the impulse to do precisely that. Denying him was literally physically painful at this point. Her entire body ached with the desire to give in.

“I’m sure,” she somehow managed.

Derek looked so defeated as he asked, “But why? Why can’t we have this one good thing?”

Stiles sighed, her eyes glittering as she said, “Because you’ve had so many terrible people use you in your life, Der. People who lied to you. People who just took what they wanted from you with no consideration for what you wanted or how you felt or how their actions hurt you. And no matter how hard this is, I am not going to be one of those people. Not ever. I care about you, Derek. So much.” She had to look away as she admitted with a sad laugh, “Way more than I’ll ever work up the courage to tell you, I’m sure.” She took a moment to swallow back tears before saying, “I am not going to hurt you, no matter what I want. No matter how badly I want it. The bottom line is, you can’t make the call while you’re like this. So I’m calling it. And I’m choosing to respect your older-self’s wishes.”

Derek looked so confused and saddened by her decision that it pulled at her heart.

She played with her fingers as she tried to lighten the mood. “That said, I am probably going to spontaneously combust with sexual frustration at some point. But, hey, if that’s how I die, that’s on me.”

Derek gave her a weak smile in reply.

“So… I, uh… got the spare room ready for you,” she said, opening the bedroom door and motioning for him to follow her out into the hallway. Once he was in the guest room, Stiles tapped against the door frame and said anxiously, “You should probably get settled in before my aforementioned combustion. And, hey, on a completely unrelated note, if you could maybe dial down your super sniffer and put on some music to distract your wolfy ears for the next… at least 30 minutes… I’d really appreciate it.”

Derek laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll be plenty busy ‘distracting’ myself in here.”

Stiles’ mouth hung open at the cruelty that was her life. I mean, yeah, of course he was going to have to… handle things, too. She gritted her teeth and groaned as she gripped the doorknob. Oh well, as long as they weren’t getting off together, she was technically still respecting older-Derek’s wishes. Right?

“Stiles?” Derek called.

“Hmm?” she asked, biting her lips to keep her internal thoughts from tumbling out.

She flinched in surprise when Derek placed his hand under her chin and pressed his lips to her forehead. Looking up, she met his gaze.

“I’m lucky to have you in my life,” he said softly.

Stiles inhaled through clenched teeth and nodded. She was all out of self-restraint and needed to get away.

“Okay. G’night,” she squeaked before practically slamming the door shut and racing back to her own bedroom.

She closed her bedroom door and spent a solid minute trying to slow her breathing. She looked at her bed and whimpered. It took Herculean effort not to run right back down the hall. She could simply explain that she had made a terrible life choice and beg him to spend the rest of the night showing her the error of her ways.

In the end, she settled for stripping off her clothes and climbing into the Derek scented sheets, closing her eyes, and getting off repeatedly to a montage of all things Derek related. His body, his voice, his eyes, his face, the feeling of his body pressing against hers… All set to a soundtrack of his delicious dirty talk.

Yeah, it was a long time before she managed to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

The morning came and Stiles found herself staring at the closed spare bedroom door, lost in thought for a moment. Part of her had honestly expected to find the room empty and Derek long gone. But, evidently, he was still in there.

Shaking her head and adamantly refusing to check on him lest she accidently fall into bed with him (‘Oops! Oh no! My clothes fell off!’), she instead went to take a nice, long shower. The time spent under the hot water was partly due to her spacing out repeatedly, but it was also because she washed her body at least four times in an effort to get rid of the scent of Derek’s saliva and arousal where it was undoubtedly ingrained in her skin. No need to make things harder for him when they came face to face, right?

She dressed and went downstairs, making a pot of coffee and taking a seat at the table. She heard him wake up, listened as he went in for a shower and got ready. When she heard him coming down the stairs, she tensed, fully expecting the fully grown Sourwolf himself to turn the corner and scowl at her as if to say, ‘I know what you did.’

But no. Teen-dream Derek was still very much around.

Stiles let out the breath she had not realized she was holding as he walked into the kitchen with a grin.

“Relax. It’s still me,” he teased, giving her shoulder a squeeze before making his way over to get a cup of coffee for himself. “You look like you were expecting the executioner.”

“Hardy-har-har,” Stiles answered sarcastically. “You joke, but that’s not far from the truth. Older-you is not going to find any of this even remotely funny, I assure you.” She took a gulp of her coffee before adding, “Honestly, you turning back and having zero memories of this period is probably the safest option for me.”

Derek frowned incredulously as he sat down across from her, lounging back in the seat and manspreading all over the damned place. “Come on. ‘Safest’? I may be a grumpy bastard, but you have to know I’d never actually hurt you.”

When she did not reply, he swung his leg to the side under the table, bumping his knee against hers until she grunted in grudging agreement.

“Hey. What are you really worried about?” he asked quietly.

Stiles winced. When he used that quiet, sincere voice, he sounded way too much like his future self and it made her heart clench with longing. She sighed reluctantly.

“You… don’t let people close. I mean, you have plenty of reasons to distrust everyone as a rule, but… it makes it hard for the people who actually…” Deciding against finishing that sentence, she trailed off for a minute. “It’s taken literally almost two years of near-constant life-or-death situations to get to where we’re at. This? It has the very real possibility of setting us back to square one. With you lurking in the shadows, grunting one-word responses at me, and threatening bodily harm to get your way – regardless of whether those threats happen to be empty.”

“I threatened you?” Derek asked in genuine surprise.

“Repeatedly,” Stiles assured.

Derek eyed her incredulously. “What exactly did I say?”

Stiles thought back. “Well, there was the standard ‘I’m going to kick your ass.’ A few promises to lock me in various rooms or gym lockers. Promises to use the puppy chains on me if I didn’t shut up. Oh, and a general recurring theme of your teeth ripping out my throat.”  

“Really?” he asked in feigned disbelief. “Huh. I can’t imagine why I was so fixated on your ass… or the idea of getting my teeth on your throat… or chaining you up. Such a mystery.”

He flashed a smoldering smile and licked his lips.

She shuddered involuntarily and he chuckled. The rotten bastard.

“Behave,” Stiles warned with a smirk, trying to ignore the effect his words had on her.

Shit, had all of Derek’s ‘threats’ really just been werewolf flirting?

________________________________________________________

They settled into a comfortable routine in the following weeks. Derek flirted as easily as he breathed. Because apparently that was a thing that teenaged Derek Hale did. But there was no pressure behind it – just him teasing her and making sure she knew the offer still stood if she was ever up for it. The UST between them was on a whole new level, but they managed to avoid any more physical encounters at least.

The first night the Sheriff was off work, the three of them sat together for dinner. Derek took the opportunity to ask if he could be dropped off at the loft later in the evening.

“Should it concern me that you only want to sleep here when there’s no supervision?” Noah asked, half-teasing, half-suspicious.

Derek shrugged as if it were obvious. “Stiles won’t be home alone,” he offered without looking up from his plate. Not because he was avoiding the Sheriff’s gaze, rather because he was too focused on the task of enthusiastically scarfing down his dinner.

Stiles watched with a pleased smile, deciding to add: ‘Egg Noodles & Italian Sausage with Gravy’ to the approved list of meals in her forthcoming, ‘The Proper Care and Feeding of Your Growing Grouchy Wolf.’

Once Derek finished chewing his latest oversized mouthful, he added, “I want to go check out my place. My wolf feels better doing it when she isn’t going to be here by herself.”

Noah arched a brow at that – grudgingly impressed by the reply. He pushed his food around his plate for a moment before noting, “Your… wolf… seems to have taken quite an interest in Stiles lately.”

“It’s not new,” Derek stated matter-of-factly. “Stiles is pack. Out of everyone, my wolf is closest to her by far. That bond was already in place when I woke up like this. However distant I may come across when I’m the correct age, the fact is, I’m most protective of her. Probably part of the reason I made sure you had wolfsbane bullets.” He skewered as many noodles as he could possibly fit on his fork and another piece of sausage as he mused, “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I patrol the neighborhood whenever you’re on the night shift.”

Noah’s eyes widened at that. His brow furrowed as he tried to decide how he felt about this information. On one hand, Derek was normally several years older than Stiles and it set off all the Dad alarms for a grown man to be bonded to his daughter while she was still technically a minor. On the other hand, an Alpha werewolf was likely taking a personal interest in ensuring she was safe from danger in her father’s absence. He was simultaneously greatly displeased and grudgingly comforted.

“And just so you know, you don’t have to worry about anything going on between us,” Derek assured. “Stiles calls the shots and she has informed me under no uncertain terms that she and I are in no way involved.”

At Noah’s equal parts surprised and relieved expression, Derek grinned over at Stiles and winked.

“Well… alright, then,” Noah commented, smiling down at his plate. Who would have guessed that Stiles’ impulse control could have averted a crisis?

Stiles offered to drive Derek to his loft, which he agreed to – under the condition that she needed to be back home before sunset.

“Ugh. Okay, Dad-rek,” she huffed as she picked at her nails. “You know, regular you is far less obvious about this so-called protectiveness for me.”

“Yeah, because that me is a moron. I thought I already established this?” Derek asked with a mock scowl as he packed a bag with his meager teenaged possessions.

Stiles frowned thoughtfully as she watched him, wondering at what point she would need to cave and take him clothes shopping for more than the 3 outfits he had so far. She supposed she could ask Lydia to help. Although, with him already looking like a damned model, having Lydia dress him would probably prove detrimental to Stiles’ health. She winced at that thought.

She was jarred from her her ponderings when Derek cleared his throat purposefully. Looking up, she found that he had snagged several items from her room. Like her favorite furry, fluffy throw blanket. And a couple of her shirts. She gave him a light scowl as he held the items up hopefully and gave her his best puppy dog eyes. Jesus, he could give Scott lessons. Maybe it was because he was a born wolf? She took a moment to be thankful that adult Derek had never broken out this particular expression. Her heart would not be able to take it. With a sigh, she waved for him to go ahead and keep his wolf happy. He gave her his broadest, most sparkling grin in reply.

When they reached the loft, Stiles walked up with him. She tensed as she looked around the space, greatly disliking the idea of leaving him there.

Derek turned in place, taking in the interior with a look of distaste on his face. “This place is so… depressing,” he declared. “Why would I choose to live like this?”

Stiles sighed. She had her theories. Derek blamed himself for the murder of his entire family and the arson of the Hale home. He probably didn’t think he was worthy of ever having a real home again, or any of the comforts that went along with one. Like this was his penance – living in the charred shell of his former house, or an abandoned train station, or this hollowed out husk of a former industrial building. His choices in residences were all similarly bleak, cold, and empty.

“Everyone handles trauma differently,” Stiles answered in a soft voice.

He frowned as he looked back at her. “Add this to the growing list of reasons I climb through your window on a regular basis. Jesus. I might just end up back in your room before the night’s through.”

Stiles’ features softened sympathetically, and she walked over to him. “Hey. You can come back with me right now if you want, you know. You’re welcome any time.”

Derek turned and hugged her in reply. And if he leaned down and breathed in her scent for a moment, she did not call him out on it. Before it could cross any lines, he sighed and forced himself to let her go. He might hate the feeling of this place, but he had things he wanted to do here.

“I appreciate it. But… I want to get a look around. Try to figure myself out.” After a moment, he looked around in confusion. “Where do I sleep?”

Stiles arched a brow and pointed. “Uh… I think there might be a bed back that way, through the hole in the wall? Maybe? I’ve seen you come out of there looking decidedly rumpled and extra grumpy a few times when we showed up here at random hours, but I really don’t know. I have most definitely never been in your bedroom.”

Derek gave an ill-behaved grin. “Wanna come look?”

Stiles squawked in protest.

“Come on,” he coaxed and tugged her hand playfully. “Turnabout’s fair play, right? I’m always traipsing through your bedroom uninvited. Seems only fair to return the favor.”

Stiles waved her hands and took several steps back. “ABSO – and I cannot stress this enough – LUTELY not. There is no way I am entering the Fortress of Solitude.” She pointed down at the space between them. “See that? Right there, that you are trying to get me to overstep? That’s a boundary, pal. And this is me, safely backing away lest you spontaneously return to your proper age solely to kick my ass.”

“Aww, baby girl,” he flirted with a cocky smile. “I promise I can think of far better things to do to your sweet little ass than kicking it…”

Stiles huffed and shook her head, somehow keeping her tone steady despite her temperature soaring in response to his words. “Behave, puppy.”

She scowled suspiciously after a moment, wanting to ask a question, yet knowing – just KNOWING that she did not want to hear the answer. Damn her stupid reckless curiosity and unreliable brain to mouth filter. The question popped out of her mouth entirely without her permission.

“Can you smell it every single time I get turned on?”

Derek’s grin reached epic wolfy proportions before he – oh-so-slowly – nodded.

Stiles let her head fall back to groan loudly in defeat. Covering her face in embarrassment, she griped, “FUCK! And here I thought I was getting away with it. Regular-you has the world’s greatest poker face, I swear to God.”

Derek cracked up at that.

Chapter Text

The next night her Dad was working, Derek showed up at her bedroom window unexpectedly.

“Well, this certainly takes me back,” she teased as he landed on the floor behind her desk chair. She spun around to face him, smiling as she said, “But you were way too noisy. If you really want the full climbing-through-Stiles’-bedroom-window experience, you have to climb in without making a sound, make yourself comfortable on my bed, start reading a book for good measure, wait for me to mumble something to myself about my homework, then REPLY to whatever craziness I’ve just said, and watch me nearly jump out of my skin.”

He stood up straight with a bemused expression. “Jesus, older-me is so fucking creepy.”

She snorted at that. “Ah, it’s never going to get old, hearing you agree with me. To what do I owe the pleasure of this Creeper Lite visit?”

“Want to get wasted?” he asked and held up a couple of bottles of booze – one of which was tinged purple, undoubtedly laced with wolfsbane to ensure he could get drunk with her.

Stiles scoffed. “You and me? Wasted, alone, with hours to ourselves? This is very clearly a terrible idea.”

Sitting the bottles on her desk, he held up his hands. “I swear, I will be on my very best behavior. Pinky promise.”

He held up his pinky and Stiles died a little inside. She accepted his pinky and – holding his gaze challengingly – leaned forward to kiss the back of her thumb to seal the agreement. To her shock, he did the same without hesitation. As if this was a thing he did regularly. Holy shit.  

“Oh my GOD, why are you so freaking adorable at this age?” she griped.

He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

“Or a curse,” she challenged. “You’re messing up my entire understanding of the known universe, you do know this, right? How the hell does Derek Hale even know what a pinky promise is?”

“My kid sister was a firm believer in the sanctity of a kiss-sealed pinky promise,” he swore in a grave tone, his features serious despite the way his eyes sparkled in amusement. “I can assure you that I would never enter into one unless I was absolutely sincere.”

Stiles let out a long, overly dramatic sigh. “I still think this is a bad idea,” she groaned. Curiosity got the better of her and she asked, “What brought this on, anyway?”

His posture changed in response. He sat on her bed and shrugged. Pressing his lips together tightly, he looked down at his nails for a minute. In a hoarse voice, he finally managed to say, “I just… saw the date and it’s… uh… it’s actually my Mom’s birthday today… so…”

And yeah.

That settled that.

They got hammered. They listened to music entirely too loud and danced. They talked for hours. They ate junk food and watched TV. Stiles painted his toenails with glittery black nail polish and outright cackled at the idea of him changing back to his adult self overnight and finding the goth pedicure. They shared stories about their moms, and both cried a little.

When the evening was winding down, and their wild antics slowly shifted into a cozy, comfortable companionship, they sprawled out together on the floor of her bedroom. Propped up by pillows, they entertained themselves by playing stupid little games they found online.

“Stiles! Smile!” Derek coaxed out of nowhere.

“What? Why?” Looking up in confusion, she found that he was holding his cell phone out in front of them. A glance at the screen revealed that he was recording them. She immediately flailed and groaned and covered her slightly-red, drunken face. “Bleh! Bad wolf!” she chided. “No fair making videos. I’m all sweaty and even less coordinated than usual.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tried one-handed to pry both of her hands away from her face. “Stop. You look great!” he insisted. After a moment, he gave up and whined, “Come onnnn, Stiles! We’re making memories here!”

“Ugh. Fine. Such a softy,” she grumbled in feigned annoyance as she moved her hands. But she understood. They had each admitted earlier that evening that neither of them had any videos of their mothers. They drunkenly vowed to start recording random moments in their lives from that day forward.

Stiles leaned back on the pillow next to him so he could easily fit both of their faces into the frame. Upon getting a clear look at the two of them, side by side, she gave a beaming smile.

“Aww, we look so cute!” she gushed, reaching up and squeezing his cheeks in a way that forced his lips into a pucker. She shook his face from side to side as they both laughed. When she let go, she said, “Hey, when we’re done, take a still from this and send me a pic.”

“Yeah… you’re gonna have to show me how to do that,” he admitted as he laid back beside her.

“You and fully-grown you both,” she snorted. “Trust me, you’re still technologically challenged.” She shifted her head on the pillow, getting cozier next to him and letting out a sleepy little ‘hmm.’ Her voice was notably lower and drowsy as she asked, “Okay, next game. What were the instructions?”

“Uh…” Derek frowned for a few seconds, trying to recall what he had read a couple of moments prior. “Oh, yeah. We have to take turns using words to describe each other for each letter of the alphabet. You start. Describe me with a word that starts with the letter A.”

Stiles tried unsuccessfully to suppress the smile that formed on her lips at this golden opportunity. “A bit of an Asshole.”  

“Rude,” he huffed playfully.

“Oh, but so true,” she declared, reaching up and patting his cheek. “Your turn. Letter B.”

His eyes flashed mischievously, and she held up a finger in warning. “Do and die, Hale,” she jokingly cautioned whilst trying and failing to hold back laughter. “If that ‘B’ word leaves your lips, I swear I will inundate you with dog jokes for the next month. Choose wisely.”

He let his mouth drop open in feigned innocence. “What? I was only going to say ‘Baffling’!”

Stiles watched on the phone’s screen as he fought to suppress a grin. “Sure you were,” she said, rolling her eyes as she gave him a shove.

“Letter C,” he said, turning slightly and resting his head on her shoulder. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathing in her scent contentedly.

“At this age? Cuddly,” she teased. He laughed as he nuzzled her shoulder and unrepentantly buried his nose into her hoodie. After a moment, she added, “Older you? Cranky.”

“Right. Cranky because I’m not cuddly with you,” he insisted.

Stiles rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure that’s it,” she said incredulously. “Your turn. Letter D.”

“Distractable,” he muttered, opening his sleepy eyes, and looking back up at the phone he was still holding up above them.

“Dude, don’t drop that on my face!” she warned as he jostled the phone. She squealed a second later when he growled and poked her in the ribs. “I’m allowed to say dude whilst inebriated! It’s like, a rule. I get a free pass!”

He grunted in reply. “It’s your turn. Letter E.”

“Exhausting. Ooh! Easily enraged!” she said, holding out her arms with dramatic flair.

He gave her a baby version of his future scowl in reply.

“Okay, fine! Umm… Eyebrows,” she amended, and reached over to blindly stroke one of the aforementioned brows. Considering the fact that she was drunk and using the phone as her guide, he was lucky she did not poke him in the eye. “You’re the only person I’ve ever met who can have a whole ass argument with me using only eyebrows.”

He quirked a brow at her in reply.

“See? Like that,” she laughed. “You’re up. Letter F.”

He thought for a long moment, then finally answered fondly, “Friend.”

“Aww, sweet-and-sourwolf! You big sap,” she teased with a smile. She gave his shoulder a light shove and said, “You’re my friend, too.”

“Letter G,” he said, then held up a hand. “And no – I don’t want to hear grouchy, grumpy, growling, grabby, or goober.”

Stiles mouth dropped open and hands flailed in indignation. “But you ARE a grouchy, grumpy, growling, grabby, goober! Hey, if the shoe fits, Der…”

“Nope,” he stated firmly. “You use all of those too much. Come on. Think of the first word that pops into your head. And you’re describing future me.”

She groaned and closed her eyes, shaking her head as she recalled the sight of future him giving one of his exceedingly rare and devastating bashful smiles. The ones where his ears turned pink. “Gorgeous,” she sighed involuntarily.

Her eyes popped open guiltily before she winced and scrunched up her face.

Clamping a hand over her mouth, she said, “SHIT. You have to delete this immediately.”

An epic battle for the phone ensued. After a moment, she groaned and gave up. “For the record, my brain to mouth filter is sieve-like at best, but nonexistent while drunk,” she stated.

“That doesn’t change the fact that: You think I’m gorgeous!” he sing-songed, looking far too pleased with himself.

Stiles rolled her eyes. “Well, you are! It’s like, actually not even up for debate. I’m just stating a fact. With your leather jacket and your scowl-y brows and your 1,000 kilowatt wolfy grins and your general aversion to wearing shirts or shoes and your penchant for doing pullups and pushups at the most random times – like while I’m researching! Hello! How the hell am I supposed to READ with that going on in the same room as my weak, easily tempted eyeballs?! A girl’s not blind, you know!” she huffed. When he gave one of those 1,000 kilowatt wolfy grins in reply, she declared, “Okay. That’s it. I’m taking my answer back. It’s recanted. Stricken from the record entirely.”

“Nope. No take-backs,” he argued.

“Too bad. Already done.” She frowned briefly, deciding, “Besides… I don’t like that I went with that. I mean, shit, you definitely are… the aforementioned G word that is so totally not my final answer… but… I don’t think that deserves a place on the list. You are absolutely a bit of an asshole, who is cuddly now and cranky in the future. You are exhausting and easily enraged, and you do have your own unique eyebrow language. But you’re also… Good.” She turned her head to look at him as she said sincerely, “You’re a really good guy, Der.”

He turned to look into her eyes, and if he had not been able to hear the truth in her heartbeat, he would have easily been able to read it in her gaze.

Stiles frowned as she said seriously, “And I don’t think you even realize it. You are always so down on yourself, but you always try to help. Always try to do the right thing. Always try to do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe. So yeah. Good.”  

With a warm smile, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead in appreciation.

They got lost for a moment, staring at one another, before they both seemed to remember they were on video.

Clearing her throat and blinking repeatedly, she said, “Your turn. Letter H.”

Derek ran his fingers along the side of her face, whispering the answer with no hesitation, “Home.”

Stiles’ cheeks flushed as she held his gaze, a watery smile spreading across her lips.

They fell asleep there on the floor, cuddled up close, arms and legs entangled. And if each of them woke up a few times the next morning, only to close their eyes and force themselves to fall back asleep in order to prolong the closeness as long as possible, well, that went unspoken.

Chapter Text

Things continued on between them comfortably after that night. They were pretty much inseparable, and the mutual affection and desire was most definitely still there, but the tension seemed to shift and recede into something significantly more relaxed. They just clicked together and, even without the sex, it was clear that they were each happy with whatever nameless thing they were sharing. They would exchange warm, wordless smiles sometimes, as if to agree, ‘This is enough.’

Which, of course, meant it was time for things to turn to shit.

One night, while the pack was out patrolling, they encountered a group of werewolves with their sights set on challenging for territory. Things instantly turned bloody.

After using mountain ash to contain two of the crazy bastards and landing a few good hits with her bat, Stiles attempted to get to safety. The rest of the pack were involved in fights of their own. She had already been tossed and punched and nearly clawed and she was well aware of her own limits, thank you very much. Unfortunately, one of the wolves had just managed to knock Scott on his ass at that exact moment. The sight of the fleeing human was far too good to resist.

In a flash, Stiles was tackled to the ground. She gasped, her eyes going wide as the wolf drew back his arm and prepared to slash her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to witness her own cause of death. She felt her body jostle violently, but after that… nothing.

No pain. No mortal wound.

In shock, she opened her eyes and sat up, hand grasping her throat protectively as she took in her surroundings. A few feet away, a black wolf was tearing apart her would-be killer.

At the sight of the fully shifted wolf, the remaining trespassers abandoned the fight and made a break for it. Stiles watched them go in a daze, wincing and turning back to the wolf at the wet sounds of flesh and bones giving way under powerful jaws.

She breathed out in surprise as her mind made sense of what she was seeing. “Derek…”

At the sound of her voice, the wolf gave one final violent jerk, ensuring his prey was truly dead. Turning toward her, the wolf tilted his head, studying her carefully. He approached slowly, using his muzzle to shove her hand aside so he could check her throat for injury.

“I’m okay, Sourwolf,” she whispered with a watery smile. She ran her hand over his head, laughing lightly at the little chuffs he gave in reply. “You saved me again,” she sighed as she brought her forehead to his and leaned into him. Exhaling to calm herself, she rolled her forehead against his, nuzzling and soaking up the comfort of the contact.

The wolf stiffened in response before taking a few steps back.

Stiles studied him in confusion. “Der? You okay?”

The wolf turned and ran.

________________________________________________________

Receiving a group text calling for a pack meeting at the loft the following morning, Stiles was not surprised to walk in and find Derek silhouetted against the windows, standing in all his King-Sized glory.

She winced and swallowed against an overwhelming sense of loss. The realization that she was never going to see teenaged-Derek again hit harder than expected. She clenched her jaw and kept her grief to herself, forcing a smile with the others as they celebrated Derek’s return to normal. She kept her distance from the Alpha and managed to never speak to him directly, hoping that if she stayed back, her scent would not betray her sadness.

She ducked out as soon as possible, using her exhaustion from the prior night’s craziness as an excuse. In reality, her heart hurt.

She went back home and stood in the doorway to the guest room for a long time, silent tears streaming down her face as she accepted the loss. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door, wanting to preserve it as it was.

She climbed into her own bed and spent the rest of the weekend grieving soundlessly. No small feat – her spending more than 24 hours without speaking. But she needed it. It was her own private, silent vigil for the friendship no one else had been privy to.

Monday morning, she forced herself to get up and function. She showered and dressed, then plastered on a smile for her father at breakfast even though she knew he could see right through it.

“So… Derek’s back to normal now, huh?” he asked knowingly.

“Uh, yeah,” she answered weakly, then cleared her throat and gave her best effort to sound normal. “Yup. Back to himself. I’m sure you’ll see him around at some point. Probably has a busy schedule, though. Will have to catch up on his backlog of brooding from the shadows and whatnot,” she rambled, attempting to focus on her breakfast to avoid her father’s gaze.

She was relieved when he stood from the table, but a moment later, he was leaning over her, covering her back with his chest as he wrapped her up in a hug.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he said quietly.

Stiles’ bottom lip trembled, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

“What – uh – sorry for what, Dad?” she asked hoarsely.  

“I know you two were close,” he answered. “I’m not blind. You two really hit it off.”

She shook her head. “We weren’t… anything, really. It’s not like that,” she denied.

“Stiles?” he said, looking down at her sympathetically and waiting for her to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to be dating someone to be sad they’re gone. You can grieve the loss of a great friendship, too.” After a pause, he added knowingly, “Even if that friendship was clearly on a direct course for dating…” 

“Whhaaattt? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she insisted dramatically.

“Sure you don’t,” Noah teased, running his hand through her hair playfully as he stood.

________________________________________________________

The next couple of weeks were sort of a blur for Stiles. She was well aware of the fact that her sadness clung to her like some sort of uber depressing designer fragrance, but she kept up the façade of being fine. Her posture was rigid. Her flailing was less energetic. Her laughs weren’t quite as loud. Her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her rambling was a bit more subdued. But she managed somehow.

Derek was back to his former distant, scowly self as if nothing had ever happened.

Stiles left it alone and kept her distance. She would have loved to tell herself it was because she was being strong and respecting his boundaries, but in reality, it was simply too painful to be in his presence. She still felt the loss like a missing limb.

Nearly three weeks after he changed back, Stiles was sitting at her computer desk when she heard the familiar near-silent slide of her window opening.  

She spun in her seat and froze, staring at him in wide eyed astonishment.

Derek quirked a brow at her reaction and pointed out the window behind him. “You put a damned dog-joke doormat out there just to mess with me… yet you somehow still seem surprised to see me?” he asked incredulously.

She looked down at the carpet, willing her heart to stop racing. She took a calming breath, cleared her throat, and swallowed back her emotions. Forcing the expected smile, she joked, “Hey, that mat is comedic gold. You’re laughing on the inside, I’m sure.”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her, clearly aware of the fact that she was putting up a front. “Everything okay?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yeah. Yeah. No, fine. Everything’s… everthing’s fine,” she answered, scratching at the back of her head, and averting her eyes.

He scowled at the blatant lie and opened his mouth to say something… but trailed off.

His posture changed as he turned and looked around her bedroom, his brows drew together as confusion passed over his features. He tilted his head to the side, walking a bit further into the room. His nostrils flared, and she knew he was catching lingering remnants of his own scent.

When his perplexed gaze locked on the floor beside her bed, Stiles panicked.

“So what brings you? New big bad?” she asked , drawing his attention.

Derek frowned as he looked at her, then back at the floor for another moment, before finally shaking his head and blinking repeatedly.

“Right… what can you tell me about ghouls?” he asked, expression shifting to his standard scowl.

And just like that, it was business as usual and she was returned to the status of designated research human. Conversation between them was clipped and focused on the task at hand, aside from her going through the motions of teasing him. Her heart wasn’t in it, though, and it felt flat. She caught herself wondering how the hell she was supposed to do this now.

A part of her wounded heart just wanted to run away from it – from him. Go off to college on the other side of the country, maybe another part of the world. Get to a point where she only occasionally crossed Derek’s path when she came home for breaks.

But the rest of her heart was unwilling to abandon him or the rest of the pack like that. No matter how painful it was to look into his eyes and find none of the affection she had come to rely on, she would not leave.

By the time he was ducking back out of her window, she had resigned herself to this being the new normal. She would keep going, keep her grief and longing to herself, so long as it meant she was around the help keep Derek and the rest of them safe.

Would it suck? Undoubtedly. But she would deal with it. And hopefully, someday, her heart would mend to the point where she would not physically ache with longing every time she was in his presence.

Chapter Text

The plan had been for Stiles to go on a research binge for the next couple of days – scouring the bestiary, a few of the more pertinent books from the Hale vault, and every reputable source online for information on ghouls.

Which, by the way, gross. Like, seriously, fuck those guys. She was going to need brain bleach after what she learned about them in the first hour alone.

But anyway, yeah, Stiles was supposed to dive into research mode, and then, at the end of the weekend, she would bring her findings to the pack meeting. That was the plan as discussed and agreed upon when Derek had left.

You can imagine her surprise when, not even 2 hours later, the subject of her intense and unspoken longing was climbing back in through her window.

With an expression of supreme confusion, she looked over at him. “Uh… Der? Did you forget something?”

The harsh glower he gave her in response to that seemingly innocent question made her flinch.

“Yeah. I think that’s a safe assumption,” he answered angrily.

She frowned and tilted her head to the side. “Ummm… Okay? What did you forget?”

Without a word, he pulled out his phone, set it up on the desk in front of her, and started the video.

“Stiles! Smile!” teen-Derek coaxed.

Stiles drew a deep breath as every muscle in her body went rigid.

Closing her eyes she sighed, “Oh, shit.”

“What? Why?...
Bleh! Bad wolf! No fair making videos.
I’m all sweaty and even less coordinated than usual.”

“Stop. You look great!...
Come onnnn, Stiles!
We’re making memories here!”

“Ugh. Fine. Such a softy...
Aww, we look so cute!”

Stiles was torn. As much as she wanted to run from the room to avoid incurring Derek’s inevitable wrath, she also could not take her eyes away from the screen – it was the only proof left in the world of what she had lost. She quickly decided it was worth facing her fate to have this. She tried to memorize every frame, every word…

By the time the video was coming to an end and she was watching teen-Derek kiss her forehead and tell her that she was ‘Home’ for him, she was sniffling as discretely as possible and wiping at her cheeks with her sleeve. When it stopped, she exhaled choppily into the tense silence of the room.

“So yeah, Stiles,” Derek snarked behind her before reaching around her to retrieve his phone. “CLEARLY, I ‘forgot something.’”

She nodded and chewed her cheek, refusing to turn and look up at him.

He huffed in frustration and spun her chair around. She kept her eyes locked on the floor.

“Well?” he prompted after a moment, sounding supremely irritated.

Stiles scoffed. “Well, what? What do you want me to say?” she asked miserably.

“I want you to – !” he began heatedly but caught himself.

After taking several calming breaths, he tried again.

“I… I want you to… help me… remember,” he admitted hesitantly.

She frowned and finally looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“I can’t… I can’t remember what happened and I… I hate it,” he growled. “I hate the feeling of not being able to trust my own mind. I don’t want you to tell me. I want to remember for myself. And I think… I think I can do that if I just…”

He turned away and ran his hand roughly over his face as he tried to find the words.

“The only reason I found that video was because when I was here earlier, I kept feeling like something important happened right there,” he said, pointing down to where they had been lying on her floor in the video. “And then I got this little glimpse of a memory of looking up at my phone screen and seeing us smiling up at it.” He turned and looked at her over his shoulder as he confessed, “I haven’t been sleeping much since…” He shook his head. “The loft just feels…” He winced, trying to get it out. “I was living here, wasn’t I? Because I can almost feel it.” He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling. “At the loft, there’s nothing. But here. Here I feel the blank spot. I feel the missing piece.”

Stiles swallowed hard and asked weakly, “What do you want me to do?”

Derek’s eyes opened slowly, and he met her gaze. “Take me through it, but don’t tell me. Just… show me things that might help me remember.”

She rubbed the back of her neck as she stood from her chair. “Um… sure. I guess… come on, follow me.”

She led him across the hall to the still-closed guest room. Pausing for a moment to fight back a wave of emotion, she reached out and opened the door. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself for comfort before nodding for him to go ahead in.

Watching him standing in the room’s interior at his proper age was surreal. She had to count her fingers to make sure she was not dreaming this up. He moved through the space slowly, picking up items and frowning. He found a rumpled shirt in the corner and lifted it to his face, breathing in the scent.

Stiles watched silently as he closed his eyes and went still for a moment. When he dropped the shirt and turned back to her, she struggled to find her voice.

“Got something?” she asked weakly.

Derek nodded. “A bit. Keep going.”

“Okay… uh… let’s go downstairs,” she said, turning and heading to the steps.

She led him through the living room, and he stopped, staring at the couch thoughtfully for a few moments.

He let out a put-upon sigh a moment later as he said, “You finally got me to watch those damned Marvel movies.”

Stiles laughed at that. “Yeah. I did. And I’m fairly certain if you’re remembering that, you’ll remember that you loved all of them.”

Derek rolled his eyes and shook his head. A few seconds later, a concerned look passed over his features. He looked down at the couch and cocked his head to the side. After sifting through his thoughts for a moment, he finally nodded. “What else?”

She motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen and watched him take a seat at the table. Again, seeing the fully grown Sourwolf in this setting felt completely unreal.

He sat for a moment in silence before pointing over at the chair across from him and looking up at her expectantly. She frowned but obliged, taking a seat, and holding her tongue.

She had no idea how she was managing to stay quiet. Usually she talked even more than usual when she was nervous. But this time she was so conflicted, it left her unable to fall back on rambling. She somehow simultaneously did and did not want him to remember everything. There were things that she was not prepared for him to know. For example, this:

He drew in a sharp breath suddenly, his eyes widening and locking on her face as his hands suddenly had a white-knuckled grip on the table’s edge. She fidgeted worriedly at his reaction and had to look away from the intense emotions swirling in his eyes.

“Stiles…” he whispered dejectedly, his shoulders sagging.

“Oh.” she managed hoarsely. She chewed the inside of her cheek. “For the record, I still don’t want to talk about that.”

He winced and looked down at the table.

“Gerard?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah… uh… he was there, too,” she answered reluctantly before clearing her throat and standing. “And this is me, officially not talking about it anymore.”

He nodded and grudgingly climbed to his feet.

“Someday, though… you’ll tell me?” he asked quietly.

“Highly doubtful,” she snorted. “But… who knows? Maybe,” she offered honestly.

He studied the tile floor for a few moments in silence.

“Not much else down here,” she sighed with a shrug. “Aside from… that… particular conversation… and our movie marathons which you already recall, we mostly hung out upstairs.”

With that, she turned and went to the staircase. When she was on the third step, a strangled sound escaped Derek’s throat. She stopped and turned, studying his expression curiously. Arching a brow, she noted that his line of sight had been locked on her ass.

Sighing and shaking her head she muttered, “Ah. That,” before continuing up the stairs.

She went into her room and had to wait at least three minutes before he worked up the courage to follow.

“So…” she said worriedly, closing the door once he was inside. “This is gonna be awkward.”

His brow was furrowed severely, and his body was tense as she turned back to face him.

“Don’t…” he tried, shaking his head.

Stiles held up her hands. “I got it: Don’t tell you. I’m not saying a word.”

Derek took a step forward but stopped, his eyes flicking to meet hers. “Can I…?” He winced as he looked at her throat, then huffed and looked away, seemingly reluctant to put the request to words.

Her lips parted in understanding. “OH – you wanted to…?” She motioned to her neck and blushed. “Uh, yeah. I mean, I know I’ve read somewhere that olfactory triggers are supposed to be great for helping people recover memories. There’s gotta be an even stronger link between smell and memory for a wolf. So, yeah. It’s okay. Do… uh… do what you gotta do.” Her casual words were in direct opposition to the way her body was shaking nervously.

He frowned and bit his bottom lip, staying rooted in place for the longest moment of Stiles’ entire life.

Then, he was moving.

She took a deep, steadying breath as she watched him close the distance between them.

Reaching out, he gently touched her elbow before guiding her to back up against the wall. “Right… here…” he said quietly.

Her eyes rolled closed and she felt a nearly dizzying rush of arousal. Her jaw flexed as she clenched her teeth and let out a nervous laugh. “Well… evidently walls can act as triggers to bring back hella strong memories, too.”  

She looked up at him and struggled to stay calm as he leaned in slowly, bringing his nose to the nape of her neck. Her brows drew together, and she knew the scent of her arousal must be off the charts.

He gave a low growl and she shuddered in response.

“Jesus…” she whispered shakily.

He stayed like that for a couple of long, tense moments, just breathing her in, before finally pulling back and studying her. His eyelids were heavy, and pupils were blown wide with want, but a look of confusion was passing over his face. Again, moments passed as he remained in place, his thoughts racing as he recalled what was lost.

“You… you stopped…” he recalled, sounding thoroughly surprised.

She laughed and nodded before huffing, “Trust me, it was no easy feat.”

His brows drew together, and he tilted his head to the side, looking over his shoulder into the room behind them but keeping them in place against the wall.

She gazed up at his profile curiously, realizing that he must be watching his memories play out. She kept quiet, hyper aware of the warmth of his body just inches away from her own. She greedily took in all the details. The way the dark, coarse stubble on his neck grew in different directions. The smooth skin of his neck as it stretched over tendons and veins. His long, dark lashes and the bright, hazel green of his irises. God help her, he was beautiful.

He turned back to her suddenly with a look of astonishment.

She let her head thud back against the wall and sighed. “Yeah. I can’t believe I managed to say no to you, either.”

His brow furrowed and he marveled, “You meant it. Everything you said.”

She nodded. “I did.”

“And… even after that night, we never…” he said roughly, searching her eyes.

She shook her head and agreed simply, “We never.”

“The video… we were like that after. Close,” he said more to himself than her. “And then I shifted to protect you…” He considered it for a moment longer, then nodded and swallowed hard, looking down into the small space between them. “Stiles, I…” he tried, shaking his head as his mouth worked soundlessly, searching for the right words.

She cleared her throat and tried to sound normal despite her turbulent emotions. “It’s okay, Derek. You don’t have to… say anything. I mean, I get it. Things were different. You were a teenager. I’m not expecting…” She trailed off and shrugged before her voice could break. She hated the lump in her throat and the way her vision was going blurry with unshed tears. She needed to pull herself together and see this through. Clearing her throat, she offered, “Look, we can just pretend it never happened if it’s easier for you. I mean… I wasn’t going to put you in a weird position by even mentioning it. It’s fine. It’s no big deal. You can – ”

“Stiles,” he growled. “Shut up.”

She bit her lips and nodded. “Right. Shutting up.”

It did not escape her notice that he had yet to move at all. She frowned as she wondered why that might be.

He looked into her eyes finally, and her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his gaze.

“What if I… don’t want to pretend?” he asked huskily.

Her heartrate picked up as he brought his hand up slowly to cup her cheek.

“You turn 18 in… what? 2 months?” he asked.

Her eyes widened as she slowly nodded.

He pursed his lips as he took that into consideration. “Shit,” he sighed. After a moment, he shrugged and joked, “Well… I almost made it. Close enough, right?”

Her heart skipped a beat and the corner of his mouth lifted in a hint of a smile.

He shook his head as he declared, “I’m not going to be able to pretend I don’t know what it feels like to have you shaking with need against me. Won’t be able to pretend I don’t know how you taste,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to drag his thumb along her bottom lip.

His own lips parted as he watched her mouth intently.

Looking back into her eyes, he asked, “So, what would you say… if I suggested… now that there’s no reason to stop… that we should see where we go… from here?” He punctuated that question by bringing his body flush against hers.

She gasped and trembled in reply, every single nerve in her body instantly lighting up like a damned Christmas tree in response, eagerly awaiting any and all sensory input from the smoking hot werewolf.

“I’d say…” Her eyes darted to the clock. “… that we have 6 hours to find out,” she said with a heated smile.

He bit his bottom lip and looked down at her hungrily. “Next time we do this at my loft,” he rumbled. “I want longer than 6 hours to work you over… but it’s a start.”

She grinned. “There’s that Alpha arrogance. Already so sure there’s gonna be a next time?”

He leaned in closer and nipped sharply at her bottom lip before sucking it gently and earning a moan from her. He chuckled low and victoriously and whispered, “Oh, I’m sure.”

He let his fingers slowly and purposefully drag down her throat, over her taut nipple through her thin shirt, down her belly, and finally dipped in between her thighs. His eyes lit up with interest as she gasped.

“Mmm…” he purred in approval. Bringing his mouth to hers, he let their lips brush, but did not allow her to kiss him as he breathed, “See, the last time I had you in this position, I was a boy. But now…” He stroked her through her pants, applying just the right amount of pressure to cause her knees to shake. “Now, I’m a man. And baby, the things this man is gonna do to you…”

He shook his head and clicked his tongue, arching a devilish brow.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed in relief, earning a throaty laugh.

“Aww, what’s the matter, baby girl?” he teased. “Did you think I’d let you keep denying yourself?” he asked, picking her up swiftly and guiding her to wrap her legs around his hips.

She let out a whimper and pressed down against him eagerly. “I was afraid you would,” she managed breathlessly.  

He shook his head. “Not a chance. You’re gonna get all of this,” he assured, gripping her ass, and pressing her down against him as he rolled his hips and thrust up into her through too many layers of clothing.

“Hnngg…” she moaned and bit her lip as she nodded. “Yes, please.”

His smile turned darker, more possessive as he asked, “Nobody else has been inside you, have they?” When she shook her head, he let out a rumbling growl of approval, eyes flashing Alpha red. “Mmm, that’s right. Those little boys you ran around with at school may have touched you, but not like I get to. Nobody else is ever gonna touch you again. I’m gonna make this pussy mine.”

“Derek… God, your fucking mouth…” she whined, trembling from head to toe.

He grinned, loving the effect his words had on her. “You always tell me to talk,” he said with a shrug.

“Had I known you were saving up all of your words for occasions like this, I’d have kept those comments to myself,” she laughed breathlessly.

He chuckled at that, then sighed in consideration. “Now, where to start…” His hazel eyes swept down her body purposefully. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you up against a wall since the very first time you got mouthy with me, you know that? Always such a brat. Dreamt about claiming you all the time, just pounding into you until you couldn’t talk back to me anymore. I’d always wake up hard and leaking… Jerked off so many times thinking about it. Hmm… I think I’m gonna start with that. You want that, pretty baby? Want me to fuck you into this wall?”

“Oh my God, yes, please,” she begged.

He gave that wolfish grin of his, flashing a few too many teeth before biting at her jaw. “You dreamt of it, too, didn’t you? Dreamt of me taking you right here? Did you get yourself off thinking about me, baby? Filled this hungry little cunt with fingers and toys wishing it was my thick cock stuffed inside you instead?”

She moaned and nodded as she wiggled against him, desperately seeking friction.

“Good girl,” he praised roughly. “Love the way you smell when you get hot and wet for me.”

He pressed his chest against hers, using his body and one hand on her ass to hold her in place. With his other hand, he reached down and made quick work of his belt. She took a tremulous breath at the sound of the metal buckle clinking as it was unfastened. He held her gaze and popped the button on his jeans. The sound of his zipper slowly being pulled down was insanely hot in the silence of the room.

“God, I want you,” she hissed. “Wanted you for so long.”

“Oh, I know, sweetheart,” he whispered as he shoved his pants and boxers down his thighs. “I always knew. You were so good at pretending, running this fucking mouth of yours…” he groaned before biting at her bottom lip. “…but I knew when you were soaked and aching to have me inside you. Loved riling you up. Walking around with my shirt off covered in sweat, then I’d come over here a few hours later and I could smell that you’d gotten yourself off.” He gave a cocky grin as he recalled, “Loved being in here breathing in the smell of your cum, sitting on your bed acting all casual, watching you blush and wonder whether I knew.” He laughed at the memory before reaching down and tugging her pants and underwear over her ass and up her thighs a bit. He pulled her legs up higher, letting her ass hang down just enough to give him access. “It’d be so much easier to just strip you down… but I always pictured taking you like this the first time. Been fantasizing about it for so long. You ready, baby?”

She let out a strangled sound of assent and he chuckled.

“Use your words, Stiles. Isn’t that what you always tell me?” he teased and pinched her nipple roughly through her shirt.

She hissed and begged, “Please fuck me, Derek.”

“How can I say no to that?” he purred. He reached down and brought the head of his cock to her entrance, sliding through her juices as his eyes rolled closed. He bit his lips and shook his head. “You’re gonna feel so good around me. Can’t wait to get in there. You ready? That’s it. Let me in, baby…”  

He groaned and thrust up into her, the intrusion made easier by how drenched she was, but it was still a tight fit given his girth.

She cried out and gripped his neck, nails biting into flesh as she threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. “Derek! Fuck!” she sobbed in pleasure.

“There we go…” he panted against her throat as he withdrew and drove back in a few times. “Almost there… just a little more…” His body shuddered when he was finally buried to the hilt in her heat. “Good girl. Took it all. So good.” He started off slow, getting her used to the sensation of it. “Fuck, baby, you feel perfect. Like you were made to take my cock.” He brought his mouth to her ear, panting wetly and telling her, “I’m gonna fuck you hard now, baby girl. Gonna make you cum so good for me. Get my scent deep inside you where no one else can ever touch. Everyone’s gonna know you’re mine.”

With that, he was off – setting a punishing pace as his hips snapped up into her. She held on for dear life, barely cognizant of the cries, moans, and sobs he was driving out of her.

She lost track of time as she clawed at his shoulders and back through his shirt. He growled thunderously and snarled in appreciation, his eyes glowing and fangs presenting when she yanked back on his hair.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” she cried.  

He leaned in, his fangs receding just before he crashed his mouth against hers and kissed her ravenously. “Mmm… you, too, baby…” he groaned against her lips. “You should fucking see yourself. Look so good taking my cock. You wanna cum for me? Come on.”

He shifted her, leaning back, and angling his hips to hit her G-spot on each thrust. Sliding his hand down between them, he stroked her clit in time with the movement of his hips.

Stiles gasped and sobbed, nodding frantically. “Oh my God… FUCK! Right there. Don’t stop. Don’t you fucking stop.”

Derek smiled and panted, “That’s it, pretty baby. I got you. Come on. I wanna watch you fall apart.”

She wailed as her entire body rocked in orgasm, her mouth hanging open and features contorting in a mask of pure ecstasy. She could barely breathe through the intensity of it all, and when she finally came down from it, her body still twitching with aftershocks, she felt Derek pressing kisses all over her face.

“God, that was so good, Stiles,” he was muttering as his hips rolled against her, helping her to ride it out. “So fucking good. I wanna make you cum every day, baby. So perfect. My Stiles. Mine.”

She sighed in approval of that. “All yours, Sourwolf.”

He pulled back and grinned down at her. “Gonna mark you mine now. You ready?”

She nodded and licked her lips. “Yeah, I want you to fill me up. Want to feel it inside me.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice strained as he started fucking her harder.

“Yeah, big guy. Come on. Give it to me,” she coaxed and held on tightly to his shoulders, kissing and biting at his throat, smiling at the way he whimpered in response as his hips stuttered. “You like that, my wolf? Like me biting you back?” He rumbled in agreement and she moaned before attacking his neck and throat. Had he been a human, he would have been covered in bruises by the time she was through.

“Stiles! Fuck!” he sobbed as his thrusts became frantic. “God, here I come, baby girl. Here I come…”

He let out a choked off groan and gasp. Every muscle in his delicious body tensed and trembled as he drove in deep and let go.

Her jaw dropped open at the sensation of him pulsing inside of her as he came. “Mmm… that is my new favorite thing,” she swore with a heated smile, stroking the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck as his body twitched and shivered. “That is so hot, Der.”

He leaned back, gazing down at her through the haze of his orgasm, sweaty and dazed, hair mussed as he worked to slow his breathing.

She marveled at him. “Jesus, I didn’t think you could be any sexier,” she teased with a grin.

He laughed and shook his head, panting and licking his lips. “I’ve been waiting to do that for so fucking long.”

“Hmm… same. Did it live up to expectations?” she asked playfully.

“Exceeded them,” he insisted with a smile. “Although…”

Her brows drew together. “Although…?”

“Well, now we need to do it naked,” he stated.

Stiles snorted at that. “Uh huh. Is that so?”

He nodded and looked over at the clock. “It is. We still have 5 hours.” He kissed her before informing her, “First we fuck again like this naked. Then I fuck you in the shower. Then I spend an hour eating you out…”

She laughed… right up until he started peeling off their shirts. “Oh… Oh, fuck, you are so not joking,” she breathed in realization. She squeaked as he tore her pants and underwear apart so he would not have to put her down to remove them.

He gave her a dazzling grin and agreed, “So not joking. You’re mine now. And we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

____________________________________________________________

The next day, Derek was sitting in his loft, basking in the knowledge that he and Stiles were now officially together and looking forward to her getting out of school later that afternoon. The wolves would all be able to tell they were together instantly, by scent and the change in their bonds. He and Stiles had agreed to wait a bit before informing Stiles’ father, though.

Which is why, as he listened to the Sheriff coming up the elevator to his loft uninvited, Derek frowned worriedly and briefly considered using the fire escape…

He opened the loft door and waited, internally cringing, and knowing this visit absolutely did not bode well. He recalled the man’s warning to his 16-year-old self about shooting him in the ass and tensed up, expecting to receive at least one bullet wound in the next few minutes. He supposed that was fair. If he had to get shot in exchange for keeping Stiles, it was totally worth it.

“Derek,” Noah greeted as he stepped off the elevator in full uniform.  

“Sheriff,” he greeted, inclining his head, and doing his best not to glance down at the man’s gun.

Was that wolfsbane he was smelling?

Fuck. Yes, that was definitely wolfsbane.

Derek swallowed hard.

“Got your memories back, I take it?” Noah asked with an unnerving smile.

“I did,” Derek replied.

Noah nodded and clicked his tongue, putting his hands on his hips and not-so-subtly revealing the gun on his hip. The scent of wolfsbane grew more intense.

“Didn’t quite make it to Stiles’ birthday before sealing the deal, huh?” Noah asked pointedly.

“…”

Derek froze in place.

Any minute now he was getting shot.

Any.

Minute.

Now.

Noah squinted at him as his jaw flexed. After leaving Derek to sweat it out a while longer, he finally said, “Let’s just pretend like you did, shall we?”

Derek’s eyes widened and he barely managed to reply, “Gladly, sir.”

Noah let out a ‘hmm’ and sucked his teeth before turning and heading back to the elevator. Once he reached it, he called, “And Derek?”

“Sheriff?” he asked worriedly.

He turned back with a scowl. “Next time? For God’s sake, don’t do it in my house. Or, at the very least, close the damned window behind you. That way I don’t spend another night fielding reports of my daughter being mauled to death in her bedroom by a wild animal.”

Derek blushed bright red right to the tips of his ears.

“Understood, sir,” he wheezed.

The Sheriff nodded and pulled the gate closed. Holding up a finger in warning, he added, “Oh, and if you ever hurt her? They will absolutely never find your body. And I promise, I will get really inventive before I let you die.”

“I would never hurt her, sir, but I hear you loud and clear,” Derek answered, fighting to suppress a smile.

“Good. Dinner Sunday night at 5. Be there,” the Sheriff ordered before pressing the button for the ground floor.

“Absolutely, sir. See you then,” Derek said, waving down at the man.

Once he was out of view, Derek clutched his chest and let out a breath he had not realized he was holding.

____________________________________________________________

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Annndd scene! I think that does it for this fic. I really wanted to play with Derek dirty talking, so I had fun writing that. Thoughts? Loved it? Hated it? 

Remember - your comments = writing motivation! <3