Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why Stiles ever agreed to help him searching for the Arctic Wolf, he had no idea. But Derek liked to think of himself as a pragmatic person, and so he convinced himself that it was only the result that counted. But he also knew his motives well enough to be aware of all the egoistic reasons for asking for help in the first place.

First, he trusted Stiles. He’d saved his sorry ass more times than he dared to admit. Second, he just liked him, a lot. Well enough at least to be spending an extended period of time with him. Although Stiles would probably deny that there was any real sympathy going on. But at this point it was only a bickering game that needed to be played. They both played the part of grumpily acknowledging their presence and of being thrown together by chance and circumstance. It was ok. A peaceful kind of arrangement.

And it allowed Stiles to be steadfast in his trusted sarcastic stance, which was really fun, most of the time. Because Derek could then be growling and scowling at him and remain in his comfort zone of being the unlikeable sourwolf. They’ve known each other for years, and while they never were the closest of hang out buddies, it was good enough for Derek. The third reason was the most difficult to deal with. The hardest to admit. He didn’t want to be alone during the week before Christmas. He usually was alone over the Christmas holidays, which was totally fine. But somehow it was the time before that made him feel sentimental and lonely.

Last year he made himself visiting his former foster parents. Frank and Liza, who took him in for a few years after the fire. They were good people, but Derek was never able to warm up to them. He cared for their safety and was secretly distraught to find out that Liza got cancer a year ago. He forced Frank to accept the fund he’d set up for her recovery. And he’d tried to heal her more than once. As he found out, there was nothing to be done about cancer, not with werewolf healing, anyway. In the end, Frank got angry at him, for not doing enough, and for throwing money at them like it was a sport.

Every year, Derek would write a Christmas card to Beverly, the lady who worked at the Beacon Hills community library. She was always there. Gently smiling at every single kid, over the rim of her glasses. Derek first came to be registered as a six year old primary schooler. Back then, it was a teacher that took him to the library, because his mother was too busy. Beverly was nice to him from the day they met, and she’d always let him read any book from the adult section without ever questioning him about stuff like age appropriate reading material. He spent a lot of time there during his childhood and early youth. When he was finished with his duties at home, he would go on most week days.

He had a lot of responsibilities, especially with his younger twin brothers and sister. Their mother was a fearsome woman, wildly beautiful, influential and admired by a lot of people. She had things to do, that were far beyond those tedious tasks that parenthood would impose. It was basically impossible for her to keep up or even care about the mundane everyday worries of her children. But Derek was good at mundane things, he had an eye for detail and the patience required. As a boy he felt honored that he could help his mom, alleviate some of the workload. It was only much later that he understood how things could have, or even should have, been different. At the library he was looking for something that would be for him exclusively. Some time that would be spent for his pleasure only, without him needing to work for it first.

Derek was able to do the full shift. To change into an actual wolf. To change his physiognomy and everything about his body to become the real animal form. Shifting into it wasn’t hard, it came effortless, even. But shifting back into a human was quite daunting. He needed to be a full wolf himself, in order to track down the Arctic one. He found his tracks up north in Colorado. They were almost cold by then, but there was still some trace of smell that could be retrieved if he concentrated enough and put his nose and mind to it.

It was a long drive up to the hunting lodge and him and Stiles packed the car full of groceries. Of course he would make fun of him for using a huge mom car, instead of the old Camaro. Which, he still loved, but never used for the horrid impracticality of it. Stiles’ jokes ceased to come at him, when they had all the food that needed to be unloaded and to be put away in the kitchen.

The lodge only had one bed, and then there was a small couch. The bathroom was in good condition, the water hot and running. Thankfully the plumbing never froze. If it ever would, there was an outhouse that could be used. Stiles said, he should try that in the morning, just to see how long it would take for his ass and balls to freeze off. Next to the toilet and a working shower, internet was the most important thing. It took an hour to restart the router and connect both their laptops and phones.

Derek had two choices: Either stay a wolf for the whole week, and then having a really hard time when changing back into his human self. Or he could change into a wolf for a few hours, every day, and then having less of a hard time when he was being human again. He chose the second option. Being human after a full shift came with some uncomfortable side effects. The most annoying of them was being dreadfully cold in his human body, like, all the time. The others were manageable. For example, the crazy fast metabolism and the sheer amount of calories he needed to consume. Then of course there was the slightly heightened sex drive, but that was the least of his problems, because he could always venture out and have some alone time in the forest, whenever he needed it. Surely Stiles would appreciate having the hunting lodge to himself, too.

Chapter Text

The next three days were spent by building a routine. Stiles was out at the back of the house, chopping wood. It went slowly at first, but he got better soon. After, he would sit down with his laptop and start research on the Arctic wolf. They had lunch together, then Derek would start to look for traces. He would change outside during the first two days, but on the third he got too chilled in his human body, so it was more convenient to do the change in the bathroom, which, as a wolf, felt absolutely counter intuitive, but it was a minor disturbance in comparison to being stark naked for even just a few seconds as a human out there in the snow.

It didn’t take long for him to get into his wolf, he liked the process, because when it was finished everything felt brighter, lighter, warmer and simpler. His thoughts would shut up and take on the shape of a stream of consciousness and being, rather than doubts, insecurities and arguments that would rumble within his human brain. Being a wolf was easy. Unless he got himself killed, of course. Which was a risk.

In the evenings, after Derek’s return from the forests, him and Stiles would sit down to have dinner and later watch movies. During their first night at the house, it was a crime documentary they had going on for a background.

"Why did you ask me to come here, at all?"

Stiles wanted to know, but made it sound arbitrary, as if he didn’t really care. Derek could hear the undertone of curiosity.

"Because I don’t know how to use the internet."

Deadpanning was the best he could do. Admitting that he just wanted a friend to himself was a little idiotic and could come across as clingy. So he told Stiles more about the Alpha who wanted him to join his pack.

Some months ago, he was asked to join the prestigious Arctic pack. They ran a company of luxury chalet hotels all over Switzerland, and went back and forth between their base at the banks of the Alaskan Tanana river and their homes in Europe. He received an old fashioned invite and knew from the start that he didn’t want to accept. Something about his gut telling him not to. He remembered how his parents spoke about the Arctic pack. It was always in hushed voices, with an edge of concern and worry.

It was only when he was grown up that he learned about a former disgruntled romantic partner of his mother. But there seemed to be more to the story. Evidently, she was plagued by the jealous ex for some years, who also turned out to be the Alpha of the Arctic pack. Derek met their former Omega, a month ago. He told him things that coordinated an awful lot with his uncle Peter’s version of things. In the end, he found the guy on facebook, of all places. Stiles said facebook was for elderly people and for people like Derek who had Explorer for a browser. He was an attractive, nordic looking guy with sharp angles in his face, with light greying hair and piercing blue eyes. Posing as some icon of winter sports and parading a devil may care tan. Looking all confident and smiling and with the human eyes of a predator.

Derek had some trustworthy contacts and the money needed to employ a private investigator. That’s how he learned that his refusal of becoming part of the pack was not taken lightly. But the Arctic Alpha was giving him another magnanimous chance. Now, Derek didn’t give a straight answer but was feigning interest. He needed to buy time and gather more information. The Arctic Alpha was seen out in Colorado only weeks ago. Derek wanted to find out what he was doing there, so he went and decided to do what he was doing best. Lurking, creeping and watching. Only this time in his wolf shift.

The time he spent outside was largely uneventful. He found traces of the Alpha, but they seemed to end in the middle of nowhere. There was no sign of change from one shift to another. No sign of conflict. Nothing. Just a fading smell of dominance and glacial ice, it was disturbingly impersonal. There was also another smell that Derek couldn’t quite pinpoint, but later decided that it was similar to the Omega’s. A wolf spends his life on tiptoes and walking mile after mile was the easiest thing imaginable. Even as a human Derek like to run. When there was nothing he needed to run from, of course. As a wolf, the running was a thousand times better. He took his time and came back when it was long dark.

Derek lied down on the couch after dinner. He was freezing terribly. But after an hour or so, an almost blissful moment of sleepy fatigue allowed him to drift off. He wouldn’t recognize actual thought pictures from early dreams anymore.
Then Stiles shook his shoulder. Derek jerked awake and was reminded on how cold his nose could be when it was not covered by the blanket.

"Get up, Derek. I’m not doing this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Listening to your teeth clattering and watching you freeze to death."

"My teeth were never…"

"Yes, they were. Get up. Get into the bed. Now."

Derek contemplated to be petulant and refuse. But he couldn’t. Stiles was being serious and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Also, the thought of a warm bed that smelled like Stiles was far too comfortable and he kind of needed comfort, more then ever. Then he remembered sleeping on a thin foam mat in an abandoned train car. Yeah, he used to be all tough and independent and stuff. But now, not so much. He did as he was being told, got into bed and under the warm covers.

Stiles huffed in an I told you so kind of way and threw the blanket from the couch on top of the other one that Derek was shuddering under. Not that he absolutely needed the additional blanket to survive, but damn it felt nice. He closed his eyes and buried his nose in the pillow. The contrast between the coldness of before and the sudden warmth of the bed had him shaking badly, but he could do so quietly. Stiles was off to the kitchen, rummaging around the cupboards and drawers for a while. Then he heard water running, and the plastic clanking of the kettle. When Stiles came back, he tugged at the blankets.

"Stiles…?"

He pushed the hot water bottle right onto Derek’s chest. Oh sweet god, this felt heavenly. A true stroke of genius. He would never have thought of looking for a hot water bottle, but then again, certain human remedies didn’t easily occur to his everyday thought processes. There was another remedy, that he didn’t think of. Stiles, after a deep inhale of what sounded like determination and a second of nervous bitter smell, got into bed with him. Of course, it would be downright cruel if he would have asked him to sleep on the couch in his stead. He felt Stiles’ left arm circling around him, the chest snug and solid in his back. So good… Best blanket that ever lived and breathed.

"You’re shaking."

Stiles informed him, as if to explain his actions. But there was no explanation needed, because the shivering subsided and Derek was out flat before he could even say thank you.

He woke up right before dawn. Being warm and well rested brought other vital functions back to life, like an unwavering and almost painful erection. Derek needed to jerk off within the next minute. Doing it right here in Stiles arms was not an option. Waking him up, neither. Doing it in the bathroom… too close. They gave each other the privacy of having the house to themselves on a regular basis, and Derek sure wasn’t that much of an inconsiderate asshole to break an important unspoken agreement. So he extricated himself from the embrace. Slowly, and he did it without touching Stiles junk with his own. Which was no small effort, mind you, because, confined space and… it wasn’t like his body really wanted to cooperate and do the prudent thing.

He came twice in short succession and then took a while to just sit next to the pile of chopped wood. There were two piles, in fact. One very neatly organized and symmetrically placed along the wall of the house (Derek’s), and the other (Stiles’), a huge, messy compound of trial, error and success. He pondered the eventuality of Stiles liking him enough to have sex with him. It was an intriguing idea, all of it. A lot of possibilities came to mind. Even if they were just being theoretical. Derek had a vague understanding of Stiles being bisexual, but that didn’t mean he was up to it with someone like him. He would have loved to just stay in bed, so much.

Then the cold crept back into his bones and he went inside to take a shower. When they were eating breakfast, Stiles had a smell of disappointment around him. Or annoyance, Derek wasn’t sure. It seemed to change from one thing to the other every moment. They skipped lunch, since Derek was out most of the day. And met again for dinner.

Stiles wore a thick jacket with lambs wool lining, it was open and showed his T-Shirt underneath. Leaning next to the fridge, he drank a cup of hot, steaming tea. He was studying Derek rather critically, who pretended not to see it and kept his eyes on the computer in front of him. Who also pretended that he didn’t care for the warmth and the scent under that wool jacket. He had the vision of just coming up to Stiles and snuggle against him, sticking his icy hands under the jacket and having them warmed up.

Were that mental picture came from was quite obvious to Derek. Stiles had become more and more attractive during the last years and his scent had intensified and evened out at the same time. Derek had a true weakness for the quality of his skin, his shoulders and, well, everything. Not to mention that sinful mouth. He must have been mad to ask Stiles on this trip. Only four more days to go. He could deal, somehow.

"What is it, Stiles?"

"Nothing."

"Ok."

"Well… What about the sleeping arrangements for tonight?"

"I can take the couch again. If you prefer."

"I don’t think I could sleep if there’s a freezing werewolf tossing and turning. Is it always this bad after your full shifts?"

"Yeah… But it’s ok. You need your sleep, too. And…you’ve been really nice to me, I don’t want to impose."

"Nice, huh. You liked it?"

"Yeah. Maybe. Yes… You?"

"Don’t deflect. I asked first. So it wasn’t like a total annoyance for you to share a bed with me?"

"No! As I said, I liked it, a lot. Ok? Happy now?"

"No reason to get all defensive. It’s almost fun, though, to see the big bad wolf like that."

"Like what."

"Like actually wanting some company."

"What kind of company are we talking about here?"

"Ok, forget it, Derek. If this is too much of an inconvenience for you, we can just drop it. I’ll have the couch, then. Won’t be ideal, I admit, but I don’t get cold like you. Not as much, at least."

"Don’t take the couch. It’s uncomfortable."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I’m sure. We should both take the bed."

"And you won’t just run off in the morning, all disgusted and anxious to get away? I might only be a friend, but that was some really shitty bedroom etiquette you were displaying."

"I’m… sorry. I never meant to be rude. I needed to be alone, ok?"

"You could have come back."

"Come back to bed with you?"

"Yeah."

"I didn’t know that was an option you cared for."

"You do, now..."

"Let’s do it, then. With better etiquette in the morning. I promise."

They both took some reading to bed with them. Stiles had five PDFs opened simultaneously and was down to just one after an hour. Derek had a print out of the bestiary section on arctic wolves. He actually concentrated on reading, while Stiles seemed to be a little less at ease. He said good night first, and wrapped himself tight into his blankets. With his back to Derek, who was switching the light off only minutes later.

Stiles’ breathing was very low, almost inaudible to human ears. He concealed his scent. There was this strange, minty fogginess that sometimes surrounded him and Derek had figured out that this was some sort of camouflage he got. He shut his eyes and tried to get to sleep, but it wouldn’t happen. Stiles’ concealment started to wear off. He was uncharacteristically still. Under the fading mint fog there was arousal. It got stronger by the minute. Derek wanted to reach out and embrace him, but didn’t dare to. He might have, though, was building up his nerves for it. Or maybe he should ask, before he touched him. Before Derek finished to make up his mind, Stiles spoke.

"I’m so sorry, Derek. I’m kind of past that point were I can make it go away…"

His voice sounded small and timid. Derek took this at his clue to come closer and snuggle a little bit against Stiles’ tense frame. Not too much, though. But enough to have at least some sort of intimacy.

"Nothing about you ever made me feel disgusted, you know. And I don't ever want you to be sorry when being in bed with me."

"Ok…"

He wanted to know what Stiles’ hair felt like, so he started to lightly caress the short locks at the back of his neck. The delicious smell of his hard on and want became stronger still, but it was also mixed with surprise and uncertainty. And sadness, which was confusing.

"Why are you sad, Stiles?"

"No reason."

"Ok… I can hear you lying, though."

"I don’t want to talk."

"You want me to leave, or stop?"

"No! Please… I like this."

Derek did what he wanted to do for a while now and put his arms around Stiles, with all of his body as close as possible. There was still a lot of blanket in between them, so there wasn’t too much obvious contact. That was for later. Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ hair and breathed him in. A smile on his face, eyes closed. This needed to be enjoyed and savored as best as he could.

The fabric was a helpful barrier at first, but soon became an obstacle more than anything. Derek moved the blankets around to fit both him and Stiles under them. Who didn’t loose the tension. Neither of them was moving for a while. All the muscles in Stiles’ back and shoulders were rigid. Yet the arousal hadn’t lost any of its potency and Derek loved every aspect of it. When Stiles finally was able to let go a little and took a few deeper breaths, Derek pulled him even tighter, started kissing his neck. He was turned on beyond repair now and couldn’t hold back the moan that was trapped inside his throat.

“Touch yourself if you want to…”

Derek whispered to him in between kisses and his hands became a bit bolder than before, moving down to Stiles’s stomach. They changed their position, so that Stiles could lie in Derek’s arms more conveniently. When they figured it out and found the right spot, Stiles started to move his right hand along his dick. He didn’t go under his sweats, though. Hopefully he would do that soon. Derek was gently kissing and stroking everything he could get a hold of. He tried to be mindful of not pressing too much of his own erection into Stiles backside, but made all the sweet, passionate gestures he didn’t know he would ever have the courage to utter.

Chapter Text

How and when he became a real life sexual interest to Derek Hale was totally incomprehensible to Stiles. Early next morning, it was him who left the bed. He figured it would be better for his mental state. Best to get up and feign some indifference, than to get heartbroken over a closed off guy regretting every single action of last night.

Although he’d been intensely caring and endearing in the moment, Stiles felt there was a high chance of Derek being a total jerk about it now. Maybe he would be embarrassed, by being gay for one night. It never really dawned on Stiles that he might have somewhat varied preferences, but then again, it could have been a total one off.

He heard him waking up and busied himself with fixing up breakfast. While the shower was running, Stiles got eggs and bacon ready. He contemplated to make them for himself only. But he changed his mind and made enough for two. They had breakfast together before, it wasn’t totally awkward if he prepared it today like he would have on any other day.

He forgot to breathe, when he felt him coming up and snuggling around him. This was a surprise. Not a total jerk, then. Derek was nuzzling his neck and clearly enjoyed having him close. He smelled warm and a little soapy.

"Morning, Stiles, thanks for making breakfast."

"You’re uh… welcome."

"You seem tense. It’s not ok for me to touch you right now?"

At that, Stiles really didn’t know what to say, he just turned over and hugged him back, fiercely. This was nice, more than nice and he felt his stomach clench. Not from uncertainty or awkwardness, but because he wanted more.

"I thought this was just a one time thing for you."

"Well, it was not. Not from my side."

"Ok! That’s good! Breakfast?"

Stiles never had much experience with guys. There were few occasions, when he found someone to make out with, at college parties. But it never went any further. Sometimes he ended it because he shy, sometimes the other guy ended it because he got bored with a part time virgin such as himself.

Derek watched him when they were sitting at the small pine table, but tried to hide it. Stiles felt his ears and face going red. This was not the pleasant kind of heat. He hated it, blushing so easily. Like an open book. Derek never blushed, but he also didn’t eat as much as he usually did. He picked at his food and wanted to say something, it looked like. But he never did, and then just stared at his plate.

"I never had sex with a guy before."

Stiles blurted it out. It was the main thing that occupied his mind. Maybe his inexperience was boring to Derek. He wanted him to know that it wasn’t his status quo to be boring. Just, oh boy, nerves.

"That’s ok… You say it as if it was a bad thing."

"It’s not?"

"No. I really liked what we did. I really like you. I only wish you would look at me like you always do. And maybe kiss me again?"

Thank god, this was not what he thought it would be like. He got up from his chair, went around the table and threw his arms around Derek, who got his face buried under Stiles’ wool jacket. He seemed to like that, too, because he pushed his nose into the warmth. His breath felt hot on Stiles ribcage and stomach. He began to press small kisses onto him, through the fabric of the t-shirt.

Stiles’ hands began to roam, stroking Derek’s back and then going through his black hair. He’d lift his t-shirt and began to kiss bare skin. His kisses became open mouthed ones and he had a good taste of Stiles’ abdominal muscles. He enjoyed those much more than breakfast.

He couldn’t wait any longer and felt like he might explode if he did. Apparently he had two modes only: super shy or dangerously horny. He seemed to switch from first to second at an alarming rate. Maybe he should take up meditation or something to lower his blood pressure. Not right now, but like, much later. He pulled Derek up from his sit down position until they were face to face. Then Stiles kissed him back, on the lips, and urgently. He discarded his jacket and tried to get rid of Derek’s sweater soon after. When he opened both of their leather belts, his hands were shaking. Derek broke from the kiss.

"Stiles?"

"Mmhh, yes?"

"You might need to be slow… with me."

Spending time with Stiles, preferably in bed, was his new favorite. They’d taken off most of their clothes, yet still wore their boxers. A last shred of decency was kind of necessary. Derek never let it on, but sex made him nervous as hell. On the outside it seemed as if he was playing hard to get or as if he wasn’t too interested. That’s what he was accused of before, but on the other hand, he never was in a scenario where he would actively plead for something he needed. It was too risky, people might get angry or be careless. But Stiles didn’t get angry, or ill tempered at all, he just went along and gave him sweet kisses that made him feel safe.

It was cold, but holding each other, half naked and with blankets on top, was delightful. Especially when Stiles started to take every single one of his fingers and gently kissed them, warming them up. He took them into his mouth after a while, and Derek watched. The shine on his lips and the lust in his big brown eyes were beautiful. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what else he could do, other than having oral sex with his hands. He moved his left down to stroke Derek through his underwear. He took a long time to caress his dick, simultaneously sucking his fingers.

Derek started to forget a little. He wasn’t very likely to forget himself, or getting lost in the moment. But he sure was lost now, and thought he was blessed by fate for one day.

Getting rid of underwear was effortless and fast. When there was direct dick on dick contact, Derek felt like this was a most unusual sensation, even though he wasn’t a stranger to it. Yet his one time with a guy was years ago. Stiles froze a little, and smelled like he was being nervous again. His scent would take on a bitter note.

Chapter Text

At the age of sixteen, Stiles had never been punched before. Not really. In movies it made a rich and voluminous sound, rather satisfying. Yet in reality it just made those weak, sloppy noises, even if it hurt like hell. Stiles could remember how he was disappointed by them. They gave him the impression that he shouldn’t hurt as much since it didn’t sound saturated enough.

He was being strapped to a chair for three days and beaten up by a guy wearing turquoise scrubs and rubber gloves. He couldn’t remember much, not for years. But after taking up therapy last fall, certain things came back to him. Christmas was over and he was back in Beacon Hills. He took night shifts the week after.

Night shifts were either extremely eventful and a source of distraction. Or they were painfully boring. Stiles couldn’t deal with boredom, so he found ways to work on other things. Like long abandoned paper work, files that had been forgotten and boxed away. Distraction was a good thing because otherwise his mind would constantly be trailing back to Derek.

Who hadn’t called or texted. And neither had Stiles. When they said good bye at the airport it felt like something final. Derek had hugged him tight and very long and then it was Stiles who ended it. He didn’t look back. He wasn’t sure why.

Those days at the cabin were somewhat magical and Stiles felt himself go limp with unfulfilled wishes he never knew he had. Not to that extent, at least. It wasn’t supposed to happen. But it did. Before he would fall for Derek Hale of all people and become a stupidly lovesick puppy, he should brace himself against it and toughen up.

Get distracted.

When he did get a text from him, his heart made a jump and then it got stuck in his throat.

“Hi Stiles, just wanted to let you know that I’ll come back to BH on Monday. I have a new apartment up in West View. Sold the old one. No news on the Arctic wolf. Met his Omega. In case you’re interested in catching up, I’d love to hear from you. D.”

He needed a while to get it together. His brain usually told him to not get too attached, let alone over a simple text. But he couldn’t help the overthinking. Half a day later, he responded.

“Hi Derek, I’d like to hear about the Omega. Last late shift on Monday. I’m off on Tuesday.”

“Would you like to meet on Tuesday and talk it through? We could go to Falcon Creek falls.”

That sounded like a hike up north. From his Dad’s house, Stiles would need two hours on foot. Falcon Creek falls were lovely any time of the year and perfect for two people who wanted to be alone. Or perfect for some recluse like Derek, whose idea of a good time did not involve society.

“We don’t have to go there. It was just a thought b/c I like the place a lot. We can meet wherever you like. If you like.”

“It’s ok, we meet there. It’s kinda hard to picture you in any social setting in town. 1700 would be best for me. Does that work for you?”

“ Yes, sounds perfect. And for the record, I can be social and live amongst humans.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. And I’ll bring food. I consider our meeting a date. You don’t have to think of it the same. Let me pretend for the afternoon, because I’m not only a hopeless cuddle wolf as you say, but also I want to be convincing as a romantic choice. Deal with it.”

Chapter Text

The Omega’s name was Andrew. Derek had led him to the cabin because he was naive and a gullible softie. 

In his wolf, Derek had smelled the difference in the brisk wintery air at once. So he had ventured out and found a trail. He had recognized the faint idea of a scent from before. New was the iron component. 

Blood smelled like iron and a little bit like rust. The guy was walking through the woods and seemed to be very tired. He saw the black wolf and asked:

“Derek Hale…?“

He came a bit closer. After assessing his exhausted state, the black wolf turned, waiting for him to follow.

Andrew was thankful for the warmth of the couch, the hot tea and the meal. Derek had cooked an enormous portion of Mac and Cheese because he wanted something to go with his steak, other than glazed carrots and roast cauliflower. He could live on veggies alone and resist the obvious carbohydrates, but he sure preferred not to. Now that Stiles was gone he needed the comfort all the more. Plus, it was Christmas Eve.

“Thanks man, this is delicious.“

“Don’t mention it.“

“Would it be ok if I just crashed on the couch for an hour or two?“

Andrew had dark circles around his eyes and looked thin and fragile. Derek remembered a time he looked like this himself. He remembered it all too well and said:

“Of course. Knock yourself out and stay as long as you need. I’ll be outside for a while.“

Derek pondered whether or not to take the car into town and watch the lit up Christmas tree in front of the mayor’s office. It was a nice tree, him and Stiles had seen it without the lights. The week before, when they did their insane food shop. People looked at them weird at the grocery store. Derek felt himself compelled to explain to the lady at the register that he had all his cousins over for Christmas.

He parked his car and got out to walk around for five minutes. Watching the tree. They had red stars in between the artificial lights. Derek used to have a grandmother who told him that a Christmas tree should always be bedecked with real candles, never artificial lights. He was wondering what Stiles would say if he would see him like that. Probably making fun of him for good measure and then kissing him. If he was still here. 

Or maybe no kissing, Derek had no idea if their sexual dalliance was something that would warrant romantic interaction in a public place. It had felt right to him, but he was unsure how Stiles saw it. He was enthusiastic for three days and seemed to enjoy the things they tried.

On the last day, when he was due to go back, he became closed off and barely talked. They drove to the airport in uncomfortable silence. Derek had wanted to take his hand during the drive and didn’t dare to. When Stiles left, it had felt final. There was almost a coldness setting in when he disentangled himself from the embrace. His eyes looked cold, too. Derek had seen him like this before. When they were both much younger.

Enough with the pondering. Derek should get back to the cabin. Check on Andrew. 

Who was awake. He had prepared some tea. There were two big mugs on the wonky coffee table. One of them showing an outrageous elephant decor. Stiles’ favorite. Derek immediately got defensive when he saw it and thought that Andrew should not have touched Stiles’ favorite things. Reign it in, Hale, you’re not an animal and Andrew is just trying to do something nice.

“Didn’t know which one was best, so I went with peppermint.“

“That’s cool, thanks.“

Derek sat down and took the elephant mug. Andrew looked pleased as far as he could tell. And a little better. The dark circles weren’t as dark and he seemed to be relatively rested.

“Maybe we talk for a second. Let me tell you what got me here. Then I’ll be out of your hair. Deal?“

“Deal.“

The peppermint smelled like it should, but there was a strange glossy quality to it. A glossy non-smell. It was still hot, too hot to drink. Derek just wrapped his hands around it. Andrew mirrored him.

“So… Reinhold sent me.“

Reinhold was the Arctic Wolf. His germanic name. In the US he had an alias. The kettle did not sit right in its respective corner on the small kitchen counter. Looked as if Andrew had put it back in a haste.

“Ok.“

“He was asking you to meet him. Maybe join his cause.“

“I’m aware.“

“Did you… consider?“

“I did. And I like to be on my own, actually.“

“What a shame. A true lone wolf, aren’t you.“

“It’s just what I prefer.“

“Now that’s all right. To each their own, as they say.“

“Thanks for coming all the way and for asking, though.“

“Yeah, it was kind of necessary. You don’t have a contact we could call. And we figured you were in the area.“

“We?“

“Why, no reason to get defensive. But, you know, I get it, you’re alone out here, and here I am, sitting under your roof, a stranger. You’re kind of entitled to be at least a little suspicious.“

“I don’t mean to give offense. I just want to be by myself.“

“Now, as I said, that’s fine. It’s just a social call and Reinhold would be so pleased to meet you. Just once, you know.”

“I’m… otherwise engaged at the moment.“

Andrew laughed. His posture relaxed and he sat back. His tea had the right temperature and he took a sip. Looking Derek in the eye.

“The simple things in life. This is good.”

Derek didn’t drink. Andrew gave him another look. The kettle didn’t sit right. It was disturbing. 

“You had company the days before, did you, Hale.“

His stomach made a flip and there was the slightest hint of nausea. Andrew appeared to enjoy his drink.

“I think you should go now.“

“All right, all right, I hear you, man. As I said, only a talk. Let me finish my tea. You should drink yours, it gets cold, you know.“

————————

Derek regretted not searching Andrew. After he’d thrown him out, he wanted to pour the tea down the sink. A little voice in his head told him no. So he took an empty Tupperware container, filled it with the strange liquid, closed it and put it in the fridge.

He knew he should get out. Not stay another night and pack up his stuff ASAP. He also had to check on Stiles. God, he hoped he would be all right by the time he arrived. By car, he needed to drive 16 hours a day for the remainder of the holidays. He would crash at motels during the night. He hated motels, but he should do what needed to be done. 

After some time on the road, his nerves had calmed down effectively. He’d received a text from Stiles and was relieved. When he didn’t answer for half a day he had worried himself sick over that. But he could never let it show. 

It would be so counterproductive and if there even was a reason to get worried, then Derek should worry alone and not drag Stiles into it like he did before. He had his job at the police station and needed energy for that. He deserved to have a normal life. 

He would keep him in the loop if he wanted to, though. The suggestion of a date was an impromptu decision. Derek was shooting from the hip here and had no concept on how it would be received. Probably not too well. Stiles didn’t text him back after that. 

There it was, his inner negative Nelly. Maybe something happened to him already. Maybe he just thought the date thing was a bad joke or something and he was angry now. 

Lying in his Motel bed at night, Derek couldn’t keep his mind from circling. He stared at the ugly red curtains and disliked them with a fervor that surprised him.

He dialed Stiles’ number and to his even bigger surprise, he picked up a the first ring.

“Hey, cuddle wolf.“

“Hey…Uh. I didn’t think you’d pick up.“

“Why wouldn’t I?“

“I don’t know. Listen, I just wanted to know if you’re all right. Are you?“

“You sound worried. And yeah, I’m ok.“

No accelerated heart beat. No lie. Thank God.

“Did you have a nice Christmas with your Dad?“

“Uh, yeah, yeah I did actually. We even had roast potatoes and meatloaf and Christmas movies and the whole spiel.“

“Sounds cool, I like it.“

“So… a date. Really?“

“Yeah. Yes.“

“Oh. So it’s not a joke.“

“No. That would be cruel. I’m not that kind of guy.“

“Hm. No, you’re not. I should have known. Well, actually…I feel I do know you, but at the same time I don’t.“

“If we were like close friends eventually, would you like that? Because I would. And we can get to know each other better over time.“

“Hm. This gets stranger and stranger. I kinda can’t wrap my head around the fact that this was not just a Brokeback Mountain episode you’ve had. You know, us sleeping together for a few days and then one of them brushes the other off and good bye forever, the end.“

“I didn’t do the brushing off. Heath Ledger was mean.“

“You’ve seen the movie?“

“Of course, it’s part of a well versed millennials curriculum.“

“Hm. I don’t know what to say.“

“Say I’m better than Heath. And what’s with the comparison, anyway, we didn’t grunt like that and none of us used saliva and there was no rough attack in the middle of the night of any kind.“

“That’s true. I guess I never expected you to be like… like this. And Derek… Can we talk about something else? It’s weird over the phone. I’m at the station. And Stacey Lunderman at the front desk is looking at me.“

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you.“

“You didn’t. It’s just that I would like to talk more in person. About… what happened. For now, just tell me where you are. What are you looking at right now.“

“I’m at a motel. I’m looking at red polyester black out curtains. Red should not be a color used in interior design.“

“Oh, really? So no red curtains in your new apartment, then?“

“Absolutely not.“

“It’s interesting that you think about stuff like that. Since I always assumed that you would never have interior design at your place. Or interior.“

“Haha. Don’t get smart on me, Stilinski, and just so you know, I’ve placed this huge furniture order and it’s due to arrive in ten days.“

“How huge? Did you buy a foam mat? And a camping chair?“

“Ugh. You’re impossible. Don’t annoy me like that.“

“Or else?“

“You’ll see. Or better not.“

“Well, Derek, it’s good talking to you. I’m glad you called.“

“Me too. Did you…kinda miss me?“

“Yes. Did you?“

“Yes. Lots.“

Then there was ringing and rattling in the background. Stacy Lunderman was talking to Stiles in a rushed voice. He was back at the phone, with an equally rushed tone.

“I can’t talk right now, but we’ll talk on Tuesday. See you then, ok?“

„Kay, bye. Have a good night.“

“You too…Bye.“

Chapter Text

The brownish jacket with the lambswool lining was at least a hundred years old and belonged to Stiles’ Dad when he was young. The color had faded. Originally it might have been green, Stiles wasn’t sure. 

At home it didn’t feel that cold, not after spending six snow days in a lofty Colorado cabin without central heating. He could have gone with his warmest hoodie and a sweater underneath. Enough for a hike through the woods.

Yet this jacket, faded and oversized, was the best fashion choice for a meeting-slash-date with Derek. Stiles knew how much he loved the smell of it. 

Might have been a little bit manipulating, but then again he should do whatever possible to enhance his chances. He was still half-convinced that Derek’s direct approach and willingness to be social with him was a glitch in the matrix. Or maybe he had a midlife crisis. Werewolf style. He must have been in his thirties, it wasn’t far off. 

Stiles checked his reflection. He’d bought a full length mirror for his small apartment and never regretted it. Overall he liked how he looked, a bit thin at the moment, but well defined. The mirror thing was a suggestion from his therapist. He said it could help. 

Also he’d quit drinking since starting therapy. He never drank much, never had the head for it. Better to quit when it was still relatively easy and achievable than quitting later when you were doing it for too long and too much. He thought about his Dad who had such a hard time to stay sober. He did it, and Stiles was proud of him.

There were panic attacks, still. He could never shake those. They came and went, mostly during the night, or the early morning. He didn’t have them at work so far and he prayed that it remained like this. 

Work seemed to ground him. Ever since he could remember more events from his teenage years, the attacks came frequently. Once a week, every other week, sometimes the cycle was shorter.

Today, however, would be a good day. He could feel it. The memories he had were stuffed away in a far corner of his overactive brain and played themselves out in this tiny puppet theater. They were there, yet  didn’t overtake everything else. 

He was in a great mood and well rested. That helped with making things manageable. And now a date. Ok. He could do it. Last time he had a date was three months ago and it was very awkward. Getting out there was part of his process as he tried to tell himself.

He got into his Honda Civic and drove to his Dad’s house. Roscoe had well earned his retirement. 

He had promised to stop by this afternoon and say hi. The Sheriff stood on the porch and wore his renovation attire. A tracksuit that was covered in specks of white and blue paint. 

The white was from when they painted the kitchen and living room last year, and the blue was from when they painted Stiles’s old bedroom upstairs.

“Hey, Dad, how’s the painting job coming along?”

“It’s going nicely, kiddo, going nicely. This section of the wall is almost finished. I’ll do the other side tomorrow.”

“Looks good, you need some help tomorrow? Today I’m spoken for, I’m afraid. I have a meeting.”

“A meeting? On your day off?”

“Not work related.”

His Dad gave him this suspicious look. Stiles knew it all too well.

“No insane supernatural mission, I promise. I’ll take a hike up north. The Falcon Creek trail.”

Stiles gestured to the densely forested area beyond the back yard garden and the wild meadow.

“A meeting in the middle of the forest? Sounds an awful lot like a supernatural mission. Remember, Parrish takes care of that side of things, now. It’s not your job anymore. We talked about this.”

“Dad, it’s not a mission, I swear.”

You said that when you went to Colorado. You said it was only help with research. Look, I’m glad that nothing happened to you. I know that Derek is a responsible person and wouldn’t endanger you. Just, Stiles, what’s the secret here?

“No secret. Per se.”

“No?”

“No. It’s uh, some sort of a catch up. With Derek.”

“In the middle of the forest?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s his natural habitat, I don’t even know why I act surprised. What’s this catch up about? Research?”

“Yeah, probably. Nothing major. We won’t talk supernatural stuff, like, all the time. We’re kinda friends and we have other things to talk about, ok?”

“What other things?”

“Ugh, Dad, you want to ground me or something? Because if that’s the case I gotta tell you: That ship has sailed. About seven years ago.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Stiles. I’m trying to keep you from things.” 

“What things?”

Stiles knew exactly what he meant and didn’t feel like repeating those painful conversations about starting a new life despite the trauma of his past and about mental health. 

“I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re the one who has to solve impossibly dangerous situations anymore. It’s like getting sober. Only in your case, it’s about getting past that adrenaline addiction. Nothing new here, we talked about all that before.”

“You’re right. And I’m watching out for myself. Ok?”

“Ok. What’s this meeting about?”

Stiles finally lost his nerves. His Dad was way worse than he would ever be himself. Nosy and relentless to the max. 

“A date. It’s a date. All right?”

“Huh.“

Sheriff Stilinski didn’t look shocked. He was processing, though. Seemed to do a calculation in his head. The to and fro of a thought. He cleaned his paint brush while he did it and then reached a conclusion.

“You’re wearing that old thing to a date with Derek Hale. Are you insane?”

“Bye, Dad.”

“Bye, kiddo.”

The air was humid and cold. There was some brisk, snowy residue that crunched beneath his feet on the forest path. Stiles liked the sound of it. He could hear the highway droning on in the distance. It faded after twenty minutes. 

The trees created this sound capsule. Green and indifferent to human activity. In its own hermetically closed off way, the vegetation never allowed anything but the crazy rules of a chaos  that would perpetuate itself time and time again. 

Stiles felt as if he was the only man in this world. Although his childhood home was only two hours away. The hike became quite challenging when the path was climbing up north. There was another sound, Stiles’ first thought was that it might be another highway. 

He shook his head in disbelief and laughed at himself. Being civilized and all that, he didn’t even think that it was the sound of water, even though he knew on a conscious level that the Falcon Creek Falls were near. 

He wanted to rest for a bit. Night shifts were a bitch, although they had they advantages. Stiles liked to see the range of life and work playing out at different angles. It kept him on his toes. But it also made him tired as hell. Maybe next time he wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to take over shifts that were meant to be someone else’s. 

Stiles listened to the water, to the rustling of the trees and some random birds fighting over whatever they would fight about. The only man in the world indeed. He turned around to get a better view of the clearing he was standing in. 

Derek Hale would be the death of him, the death, he could swear.

“Oh my God, you gave me a heart attack!”

Derek stood right behind him. Maybe a meter away. Stiles never heard him coming, never saw him.

“Really? You look alive and well.”

“I might have died from you creeping up on me! Did you do that on purpose?”

“You’re such a drama queen. There’s no reason to be worried about your heart.” 

“I have a date with YOU, yes, yes I’m very worried about my heart. I’m serious, don’t scare me like that.”

“Ok…I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Did you get here all right?”

Stiles could see the flustered expression on Derek’s face. Telling him off for something usually never got him flustered, but this time it did. He decided to go easy on him for now.

“Yeah. It’s a nice walk, I enjoyed it.”

“Cool. Me too. I came from the other side, though. The north bank of the creek. You want to go up to Falcon Stone? The view over the falls is even better up there.”

“That’s about half an hour from here, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” 

“Great. You can tell me about the Omega on the way. What happened? You met him after I was gone, was it?”

“Um, you sure you want to know? It’s not the most exiting thing in the world.” 

“Exiting or not, I want to know.”

“It was a social call. More or less. We talked for a while, he wanted to convince me to meet up with Reinhold. I said no.”

“What are you not telling me?”

Derek stopped in his tracks. They almost had left the clearing. He looked a little concerned. Worried, maybe. He took off his backpack and opened the flap.

“I… brought something. Just in case you wanted to know more. I wasn’t sure.”

After rummaging through his things, he got out a plastic box filled with liquid. Handing it to Stiles.

“It might be a total turn down or whatever. Ruin the mood.”

“You’re giving me a Tupperware container with urine?”

“I’m aware how nasty that looks. This is not urine.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s peppermint tea. With stuff in it. A sort of poison. Odorless and tasteless to guys like me. We get knocked out from it. Our lungs would close up, and we wouldn’t be able to move.” 

“Like Kanima poison?”

“No, different. I never got fully paralyzed from this, I just couldn’t defend myself and got…weak.”

“You know this stuff? I mean, you had it in your body at some point?”

“Yeah, but injected. Not important.” 

Stiles gave him a high brow and opened his mouth to say something. Before he got around to do it, Derek continued.

“I believe this one is the same, only for ingesting. Anyway, this is what Andrew, the Omega tried to poison me with. I felt sorry for him and was stupid enough to lead him to the cabin. I never fell for it when he made the tea and I threw him out. I just want to know what it is, what it’s made of. I wanted to make sure to run this by you before I got someone to analyze it.”

“You want me to have it analyzed?”

“I have an external contractor for that sort of thing.”

“Or…we can ask Parrish. No external contact needed. Wouldn’t that be better?”

“Yeah, actually. I think you’re right.”

“Ok. He’s working the late shift tomorrow. You should drop this off. I’ll let him know beforehand.” 

“It’s your downtime, ask him when you’re back at work. Or let me do it. I have his phone number.”

“No, that’s totally ok, I’ll just give him a call tomorrow.”

“I wanted to tell you about this… But I don’t want you to worry about that stuff today, or tomorrow. Don’t you need double the amount of sleep when you’re switching between night shifts and day shifts?”

“I’ll just have an early night today. Like a senior.”

Walking side by side was easy and quiet. Stiles liked how they were surrounded by nothing but wintery green. The water was getting louder and farther away at once. 

Falcon stone was an interesting structure. From a certain angle it looked like a giants foot. Fossilized and frozen in time. The giants heel was sloping towards the sky and made some sort of a little platform on the very top. 

Up there was space for two people, three would have been a squeeze. A wooden railing was meant to protect people from falling into the wild river down below. It looked old and dainty. Probably not so reliable for someone very heavy. 

When they reached the platform, Stiles was first to claim the space. He leaned against the grayish planks and was watching the falls. He thought that Derek would maybe wrap his arms around him from behind, like he did before when they were in that tiny kitchen in Colorado.

Derek took his own space, on the opposite side of the platform. There wasn’t much room between them but somehow it felt like a mile. Stiles had no idea how to advance into romantic territory. 

He would have liked that, but simply spending time in nature with him was oddly comforting. He felt contentment and being friends with Derek seemed like a nice place to start. Healthy or something.

Stiles took a deep breath and got immersed in the view. He didn’t wear a hat and his ears were red like beetroots. Not from blushing, but from the cold. The temperature and the fresh air were anchoring him to the moment and had prevented him from thinking about sex for most of the time. 

But that only lasted for so long. Visions started to flood his mind, aided by very real events that included hand jobs, extremely lustful kissing and finger sucking. 

“I’d like to move on to the date section of this meeting.”

Derek sounded as if he wanted to make an appointment at the tax office. A far cry from the impulsive and loving version Stiles had seen before. 

“Wow, you’re spontaneous. Checking things from your todo list willy nilly today, aren’t you? Shaking up your schedule like this?”

“I don’t know how to respond. I want to forbid you to make fun of me but I know for a fact that wouldn’t lead anywhere, so…”

He did falter and lost the detached abruptness. Now it sounded like a tiny bit of insecurity. It made Stiles feel empowered to try something. Although it was unlikely, but maybe even someone like Derek could be shy every now and then.

“So…? You want to get closer?”

Stiles started to open his jacket. Slowly. He looked Derek in the eye while he did it. Watching his reaction. The silly banter mood flew down the waterfalls and sailed away. Nowhere to be seen. Stiles felt the change, in himself and when he looked at Derek’s face. It felt sincere. 

The buttons were almost undone. It wasn’t meant to be an invitation for a make out session. He wanted something else, something that eluded him. He couldn’t hold the gaze. The weight of intimacy made him choke and he averted his eyes. He suddenly felt naked in front of him. 

“Yeah… I do.”

Derek stepped towards him, slotted his arms under the jacket and around Stiles’ torso. When his chest was flush against him, he pulled even closer. A vice grip, and an inaudible, deep sigh of relief. He buried his face in the lambswool collar and breathed it in. 

The tip of his nose ghosted along Stiles’ neck. Not in an overtly sexy kind of way. It simply felt as if he needed to do that all day long. He kept holding onto Stiles. For both their sanity.

Stiles felt a load being lifted from his mind. The body contact and the unexpected sincerity made him lighter. Like a very effective stress release. A couple minutes later, Derek spoke again. His voice had a peculiar edge, a mix of nervousness and decisiveness. 

“You need to be careful with me. I don’t normally date out of my own free will. Casual doesn’t count. This is new.”

Stiles didn’t know how long they stood there. The falls were thundering behind him. They made everything fresh and it seemed they had the power to wash away everything. Every thought and every memory that ever haunted him. It was a great idea to come here. Best first date ever.

“Derek?”

“Hm?”

“I’m hungry.”

They left the Falcon stone and found a dry spot on an otherwise mossy tree trunk to sit down and eat. Derek had brought crispy fresh sourdough sandwiches with grilled veggies and deliciously seasoned pulled pork. 

Stiles ate everything to the very last scrap and licked some veggie sauce from his fingers. Derek was watching him.

“Thanks for that, Derek.” 

“You’re welcome… Are you cold?”

The sun would set very soon. Stiles felt a shiver rippling down his sides and his eyes were heavy. He didn’t think he would become tired so soon. He could close the jacket, lean into Derek’s frame and then sleep on the spot. His ass would freeze, though. Better not spend the night.

Derek stood up, took Stiles’ hands and pulled him up with him. He gave him another hug and ruffled his hair. He let go too soon. Stiles was just getting used to it and wanted to be sleepy held for much longer. It was nice.

“Let’s get you home… It’s getting colder by the minute. It’ll be dark when we reach your Dad’s house.”

“Hmmhm…”

The walk freshened up his senses and Stiles kept a good pace. In just under two hours they could see the light from Sheriff Stilinski’s living room window. Derek came to halt before the tree line gave way to the grayish and wintery meadow. 

“Stiles…I’ll go back now. To West View.”

“Through the forest, or do you take the shortcut?”

“I’ll take the short cut. My car is parked at Baker’s Field.”

“Ok…Mine is parked here at my Dad’s. I think I’ll just crash in my old room upstairs. Don’t feel like driving right now.”

“I like that. I’d feel better if you stay here, anyway.”

“Ok. Cool. Good night. And thanks for the sandwiches, again.”

“Good night… Stiles?”

“Hm?”

“I want to see you again. Can I do that?”

“Ok.”

“Cool. Does Sunday sound all right?”

“Yep, schedule it in, cuddle wolf.” 

“Good, I call you?”

“You better.” 

When Stiles came out of the shower, ready to collapse into his bed, he found a text from him:

“I regret not asking if I could kiss you. Sleep tight, I loved our time together.”

“Ask me next time. And I would have said yes.”

“That’s good to know. And I will.”

There were no panic attacks during that night or the nights after. Just restfulness. And a lot of jerking off in between.

Chapter Text

Switching off during sex was something he had learned as a boy. There was a time, not too far away, when he prided himself on being able to compartmentalize. Now he was slightly disgusted for feeling proud of such a thing. 

As if his body was a fucking glow stick to click on and off whenever, while he would sent his brain into Nirvana to cope. His body was better than that, and his heart deserved so much more.

Letting go of the resentment wasn’t easy. Taking up hobbies and new interests was a useful tactic for distraction. Cooking for example, he really did like the earthy, sensual work around it. He had a new and fully working kitchen and he was good with his hands. Indulging in things he loved made him forget what he wanted to forget, and remember what he wanted to hold on to.

Derek had never sent his brain into Nirvana when he was sharing touches and kisses with Stiles. The whole experience was blissful presence, he had loved being present with him. 

But a thought silently crept up on him since their first date: what if they got really serious? Would he feel compelled to slip back into this glow stick persona just to avoid the potential horrors of sex?

Derek almost chastised himself for overthinking, but then he let the thoughts run wild. He couldn’t help it anyway and being his own worst critic never helped anybody in the history of ever. So no chastising.

He received a text from Stiles a day after the date. It got him out of his head for a little while and allowed him to lean more towards joyful anticipation instead of worry.

“Hi Derek, I know it’s not standard dating protocol to write this instead of hi, how are you, what are you doing: Hopefully you’ll be the first guy I ever have penetrative sex with. In case I wasn’t clear on that before. Also: How are you and what are you doing? S”

“Hi Stiles, I’m doing great. Assembling my new sofa. I also bought camping chairs to appease your opinion of me. The rest of my furniture arrives in a week.”

“So you sleep on the couch until then?”

“No, I have a mattress, a comfortable one. Oh, and this wasn’t meant to be a pick up line. With the couch and the mattress. Although I do think a lot about you, on the new sofa, and on the mattress. 

And thank you for your honesty. What we did in Colorado was already sex in my book, what we will do is just more of it. I hope.”

“Sounds like we’re on the same page regarding future outcome. And what we did was early stages: post-foreplay but pre-penetration.”

“Technically correct. Stiles?”

“Yes?”

“How did it feel for you to be with me? Intimate, I mean.”

“I guess I’ve met an old and loyal friend who turned out to be way different than I thought and full of surprises.”

“Different how?”

“I never knew you’d be so pure. So Innocent.” 

“I’m not sure I understand?”

“I guess I expected someone like you to be totally casual, cool and hard to please, and then I got the impression that it was somehow special to you? I don’t know if that’s true, but it made me feel special. Like you wanted to make sure that I felt safe.”

“I did want to make you feel safe.” 

“That’s good to know, I loved it. Can’t stop thinking about our time together. What was it like for you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean how did it feel for you?”

“It felt like a memory.”

“A memory?”

“When I was in love as fifteen year old kid, I used to envision what it would be like to sleep with my then girlfriend. We never got around to do it. And everything that came after was not like I had envisioned in my early youth. I didn’t think I would get the chance to finally try it with you, Stiles.”

“What?? You trying to say you never had sex before??”

“No. I never made love with someone before.”

“I don’t know what to say. Except that I need to see you as soon as possible. I miss you so much right now.”

Stiles got an urgent call that night and had to deal with a car accident. Luckily, no one died, but there was a lot of damage and it took hours to get the parents and the two small kids out of the totaled car. They all were horribly squashed and trapped inside a Toyota that had seen better days and, thank God, never did catch a fire. The stag they hit was dead, though.

Meeting Derek sooner rather than later was delayed a couple times due to work. On Thursday, Stiles was just too tired to come over, but they did text before he fell asleep. Stiles wanted to know details and asked Derek about his sexual preferences. According to his recently updated learnings, Derek was bi or maybe gay, but he denied it and wrote:

“I’m in between those three things. For me it changes from straight to gay or bi. Depending on life cycle or whom I with. I guess. I can’t give you a clearer picture or a definition.”

“It’s ok. I get it, you’re a shifter.”

“That sounds very true. Thank you…”

“Do you know other guys that are like you?”

“Other werewolf shifters;-)?”

“Haha, you know what I mean.”

“TBH, I’m not sure. It never was a topic of conversation with anyone. With the constant need for saving our lives and other more pressing stuff.”

“I fucking hate the other more pressing stuff. I still think about it, about everything that happened. Even the stuff I don’t fully remember.”

“Still? Don’t be hard on yourself, there is no still or yet. I don’t want you to beat yourself up for not being able to forget. Forgetting is hard.”

“Thanks for that. Would you care to talk about smg else?”

“Sure, what do want to talk about?”

“Hm, tell me about the first guy you ever had a crush on?”

“Ok. I was about 20/21. He was in one of my classes on portfolio management at college. We never did anything, I just knew I liked him.  I must have been a total dick about it. Sometimes I was looking for eye contact, casting a smile maybe, the next moment I didn’t know what got into me and was embarrassed. Then one day I suddenly didn’t like his scent anymore and when he actually wanted to strike up a conversation with me, I just tuned and left. Like the worlds most arrogant prick.” 

“Sorry for asking this, but why so late at 20/21? I don’t mean to judge I’m just curious.”

“I had no capacity to explore my likes and dislikes when I was younger.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can you tell me about your first crush?”

“Ok. I’m still curious, but if you want a distraction: It was you.”

“Sorry?”

“You were the first guy I ever had crush on.”

Derek started to text, then paused, then texted again. Pausing again, then picked up the phone and properly called. Stiles answered at the first ring.

“Yes?”

“Are you… Is this true?”

“Yes. I had this huge crush on a girl at the time, but during that one spring when we first met, I also had one on you. I kind of forgot about it shortly after, didn’t take it seriously. And Lydia was my whole world back then. Kinda impossible to dethrone a queen. So I decided to forget. But I do remember how I thought about you.”

“How old were you?”

“Let me think… Fifteen? Yeah.”

“You were only fifteen? And you liked me? Despite of…me?”

“You’re more than pleasing to the eye. It’s not hard for a horny bi-sexual teenager to loose his mind over you for a bit.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess. I don’t intend to play coy, I know how I look. I know I should be grateful for it, but mostly it makes me sad when I get comments on that. I don’t even know why.”

“…Maybe because that’s the first thing people see without wanting to know more about you. Which I was fantasizing about, by the way.” 

“You were fantasizing about getting to know me?”

“Yeah, absolutely. I had an overactive mind, just so you know, be warned. But it wasn’t really the sexual stuff that got me. I had this little story made up, how you were really crushed about your girlfriend breaking up with you. Then you would come to my room and we would talk. Like friends. You would sit next to me and then we would watch Star Wars. You would like The Empire Strikes Back but then you would want to watch a nature documentary.”

“I love nature documentaries.”

“I was thinking that maybe you’d fall asleep, with your head on my shoulder. And I would hold you for a while before you’d wake up.” 

“And what happened then?”

“Sometimes you would have a nightmare, and I would cuddle with you. Sometimes you would take my hand and we would kiss. Heavy sexual fantasies only took place with Princess Leia. Never with you. I had this valiant idea in my head that I wanted to protect you. Imagine, me the scrawny human protecting the big bad wolf. Kinda funny if you think about it. Hey, are you still there?”

Derek had a hard time to keep his voice straight, and he had to swallow a few times before he could speak. Luckily Stiles couldn't see him in this moment.

“It’s really good to know that I’m dating someone with such strong protective qualities.” 

“Same here. Derek, are you all right? You sound…strange.”

“I’m so in love with you.”

They set up for a date night on Saturday, since they couldn’t wait until Sunday. Then they finished the call. Stiles badly needed his sleep and he took his tender, child like memory into dreamland. No nightmares for him that time. 

Saturday morning, he went through work on autopilot. Only looking forward to the date. He was able to get off a little earlier. Parrish practically shooed him out of the station, telling him to not come back again unless he really had to. His Dad would kill him one day if he allowed him to continue working overtime. 

At home, he found Derek’s new address in their convo. Nice, decent area. On the outskirts of town, but not too remote. Stiles checked the map. Derek would probably have a pretty view over the forests and the Falcon Heights mountain range from his place. He took his time in the shower and did some prep. Just in case. 

He didn’t want to hurry himself into sex, but there was much left for him to discover. A lot of things he wanted to try. He put together an outfit and chose his best pair of jeans and a navy blue long sleeved shirt. He pushed up the sleeves, because he liked the style of that. Nothing special, but it would have to do. The fabric was very soft and he knew Derek would like that. 

Half an hour later, when he wanted to ring at the door, his heart was beating faster than it should. Derek opened before the doorbell made a sound and smiled widely at him. His eyes were straying immediately along Stiles’ torso and up again into his eyes, then towards his lips. Classic pattern. 

Stiles congratulated himself on being able to tell that Derek was just a regular guy and not this beacon of self control he knew from way back. It was really cute to see him unguarded. He gestured Stiles in, who passed through the door by kissing Derek on the jawline. Quick and easy, no built up. See what it did. 

It did not make the smile go away, and it did make Derek’s voice a little bit huskier then it usually was.

“Hey, thanks for making the time… It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. What is this smell? It’s amazing.”

Stiles had left the hallway. The whole place must have been freshly painted. It was almost empty, and white. There was a large, open concept kitchen, a fire place and a well lit table with food on it. The windows were huge. There was nothing but dormant green landscape beyond the glass, and a big, comfortable couch overlooking the mountain range in the north.

“I figured that after last Tuesday there is a lot of room for improvement in regards to my romantic skills. I made dinner.”

Derek sounded a little stiff and made a gesture as if he just remembered how to invite a person helping themselves to food. Stiles stepped closer towards the table and felt this huge appetite coming up.

“I know from before that you cook like a chef. I’ll never forget that steak we’ve had. But this? Looks and smells next level.”

“It’s nothing too fancy, just a selection of random leftover things that I had in the fridge.”

Still a somewhat apologetic tone, but a fresh crunch of humor made it in. Stiles was eying the majestic piece of Beef Wellington, the artfully assembled salmon bites and the vibrant, buttery roast vegetables with fresh herbs. There was some sort of dessert, with a base of dark chocolate brownies and they smelled just heavenly.

“Uh huh. If you say so?”

“I do. I kinda threw it together.”

“How long did it take to make all this?”

“Not long. Three hours?”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to impress me.” 

Then he thought he should add something outrageous to drive home how greatly appealing this food display really was to him.

“Did you go to cooking school in Paris or something?”

“Yeah, and there was this guy from Tokyo. He was my arch enemy. Naturally talented. I was using my God given advantages, whereas he was the real deal. It was so close between us, I hated him. He was a smidge better in everything I ever did.” 

Realization struck Stiles’ thinking and a figurative light bulb might as well have been lit over his head. 

“You went to cooking school in Paris?”

“Yes, pay attention. Anyway, this guy, he was so good at making puff pastry that it got me derailed, emotionally.”

Derek obviously took pleasure in being dramatic beyond his outwardly  indifferent demeanor. Seeing comical shock on Stiles’ face somehow did it for him and he thought it might be fun to pile on a little for show. Knowing that his story was actually true, made it all the more convincing. Stiles quickly got back into his dry witted humor and gravely replied:

“I’m so sorry for you.”

“Thank you for understanding. He hated me too, by the way. If it weren’t for cooking school we might have been friends. It was for nought. I can’t deal with someone who constantly outsmarts me. I’m usually close to perfection when it comes to cooking. He was laughing in my face and I wasn’t perfect anymore.”

“Life is cruel.”

Stiles would not budge. Certainly one who could outsmart him and the only one who could do so to pleasurable ends. Still, he needed to be teased a bit more. And also, this tale was over now, he wanted to move on.

“If I didn’t get irony I’d throw you out. And I like you, so I don’t.”

He didn’t expect the open laugh and the good natured chuckle.

“Yeah, you do like me, don’t you. So much so that you would impress me with your cooking mastery and hidden talent for self deprecating humor… At the same time, as I might add.”

“What can I say… I’m done for and I really want to get into your pants.”

Stiles went to freshen up a bit after dinner. When he came back from the brand new master bathroom, Derek was doing the kitchen clean up. He stepped towards him, with intend. Putting his arms around him from behind while he did the dishes. Stiles took a deep breath, snuggled closer and asked:

“Derek, I was wondering if maybe we could try something, um. More?” 

“What would you like to try?”

Derek was toweling his hands dry and shut off the water from the tab. Put the fancy organic dish soap away.

“I’m not sure, just more? Maybe start with cuddling?”

“Ok. Come to the couch with me?”

They settled down, facing each other. Stiles was lacing his fingers into Derek’s.

“Would you like me to close the curtains?”

“Um, yeah, that would be good. Although I like the view, it’s… splendid.”

“Thanks…” 

Derek found a remote control and took care of the window front. Then he turned back to face Stiles, leaned back into the couch more comfortably.

“Stiles… Do you like it here?”

“I like being with you. And yes, I like your place. It’s empty, but it feels like a home already.”

Derek was beaming at him, and if he was prone to blushing he surely would have now.

“I’m glad you see it that way…”

Stiles wanted to close some of the distance and was seeking another embrace, putting himself snug into Derek’s frame. He laid his head into the crook of his neck and repeated the short and sweet kiss from earlier that night. 

Only this time it wasn’t as short. And he didn’t stop at just one. Soon he was peppering small tokens of his affection on Derek’s clean shaven jawline and chin. He had felt himself harden a few times before, during dinner. Now it was more prominent and getting stronger by the minute.

“I think about you all the time… How we kissed. How you felt on me.”

The intense longing was back. All the want he had felt when they shared a bed… it all came right up, with fervor. He was delicately kissing Derek’s ear, talking to him in between and roaming his hands over his chest and back. 

Caressing his triceps from time to time. Those were nice triceps, he liked them under his hands. He would have liked to touch his thighs and the muscles under there, but he would do that later, with more stable confidence than he would have at the moment. Instead of touching him in such an intimate way, he demanded:

“Kiss me, kiss me now…”

Derek had been very, very still up until this point, only grazing Stiles’ sides and arms with the lightest touches. But he didn’t resist anymore and Stiles felt himself being tightened into a hug. That hug felt as if it belonged to a man close to starvation.  

Derek then licked his throat and gave this half swallowed guttural sound when his lips and teeth made contact with Stiles’ thrumming pulse. Remembering what he was asked for, he pulled himself out of it and kissed Stiles’ lips, more on the chaste side at first, but soon they were deepening it.

Stiles let his hands wander and took delight in being able to make Derek moan into his mouth when he firmly grabbed his upper thighs, thumbs and fingers less than an inch away from the pronounced shape of Derek’s penis. He repositioned and got himself close and flush against Derek’s body with everything he had to offer.

Stiles was hungry for sex and not jerking off right before he left his own apartment did accelerate things over here. His blood stream was rushing dangerously and made him hard to an almost unbearable degree. All thoughts of care and not hurrying were gone now and he was left with one unwavering want to cum.

Derek was slightly taken aback at first but met his urgency with an equal measure of appetite. Stiles made his head swim, the scent of him and the intensity of his hard on pressing onto his own erection. They both were still constricted by layers of denim, buttons and belts. 

Stiles’ tongue tasted faintly like mint and coffee. Its tip was tenderly chasing for Derek’s, catching his lips and proceeding to demand more of the inside, licking and playfully biting into him. He wanted to suck and Derek surrendered, not trying to hold back and shamelessly, breathlessly moaning into this lovely, savage, sinful kiss. He could live with being licked and eaten as long as it was Stiles’ doing. 

Stiles was not satiated yet, and Derek hadn’t lost his mind entirely, so there was a lot to do… His fingers found their way into Stiles’ mouth, gradually gliding into him with awareness, gingerly touching the deep end of his rich, pink tongue. 

Welcoming Derek’s index and middle finger with greed he lost himself in this wonderful suck play. Eagerness and sloppy want at first, he started to slow down with a method and took matters in his own hands. 

Stiles opened his belt and pants, pleasuring himself through his boxers with one hand, and directing Derek’s hand to penetrate him even more while slicking up his fingers. Slapping a little saliva onto them and smiling at him.

There was everything in this smile, the promise of much more action and the consideration of silently asking. The unspoken question became clearer and Stiles’ eyes locked hard and fast to beg: Let me suck your dick, let me do it, and I’ll live to see another day, give me your hard, delicious dick, Derek and I’ll make it so good for you…Stiles never said any of that, but he thought it and the thoughts were all visible in his darkened eyes, with love behind them. 

“Please…”

Stiles heard himself beg, after all. He would not stop until he got his mouth filled with hot, sensitive skin and cum on his lips. He wouldn’t stop, couldn’t, at this point. 

“Please, please… Derek, I want to do it… Let me do it…”

Derek was eerily quiet, but his rock hard dick gave a painful twitch and bucked into Stiles’s hand, who was now caressing his denim package. 

“Please… ”

He whispered once more, bringing his lips close to Derek’s ear and kissing the skin beneath. Derek closed his eyes and saw purple lights behind his lids, they were dancing erratically and turned into stars. This was a telltale sign for him. The dissociation was just about to start. It didn’t do anything for his hard on to show less than enthusiasm, but it made his heart race with the onset of fright. His voice was small when asked:

“Slow down… Stiles?”

He froze. This was it, Derek was sure he had ruined everything for tonight. Maybe Stiles would be angry. Disappointed at the very least. Maybe leave. 

None of that happened. Stiles just looked at him like he did before, his eyes were still glossed over and he hugged him tight, caressing his back and pressing his body against his, wanting to give warmth and comfort instead of lust. 

They laid down and Derek was amazed at how easy it was to go back to cuddling. Stiles continued to stroke himself, as slow as he could muster, and he was trading gentle, innocent kisses with Derek, covering his face with care and adoration, fingers in his hair.

Derek knew that he should not cum right then and there, because he could still see some of the purple lights. He had to wait it out. But he could open his belt and jeans to have at least a tiny amount of relief. 

When he felt safe, he slid a hand into his boxers to get some freedom of movement and with a sigh he intensified the last of Stiles’ kisses. He forced himself to go slow and soon felt assisting hands roaming up his sides and down his waistline. Joyful bliss took up every part of his brain by now and he wasn’t scared of the purple lights because they were gone. 

He began to feel the need for more. More of Stiles. He took one of his long, defined legs and angled them better, pressed his beautifully lean and narrow hips closer to his own. Stiles gave a gasp. He still hadn’t unpacked his dick, but it was obvious that he was slightly thicker and bigger than his overall frame would have suggested. 

Derek wanted to feel more skin and helped him to push down his pants, just a little, to touch those hips. To run his fingertips over them and towards the groin. Stiles turned his face into his shoulder, shuddering. Derek wanted to feel his breath and lovely lips on his bare chest, not just through the T-Shirt. 

So he took it off. In one swift motion, the garment was discarded, landing somewhere on the floor. Stiles snuggled ever so close, as if he wanted to hide. 

For some reason, he had become shy. But his throbbing dick was helplessly pushing for Derek’s groin, for his hand, for his everything. 

Derek didn’t have central heating activated, there only was the dimly lit fireplace. Through his lustful mind it occurred to him that maybe he should ask:

“Are you cold, Stiles?”

“A little. Mostly it’s just nerves…”

“I’ll be right back… Don’t go anywhere.”

Derek got some of his bedding, a condom and lubricant. Then went back to the couch, where Stiles was curled up, trying not to show too much of his desire, although Derek could smell it everywhere, his head and his lungs were filled with it.

He cuddled back next to Stiles and pulled the luxurious duvet over the two of them. He pulled him close into his arms, kissing his muscular, elegant neck and placing more gentle kisses on his shoulder. Stiles bucked into him, holding onto him for strength. While refusing to show his face. Their dicks were rubbing against one another, and desperate for the friction, Stiles held them together. 

Tugging and massaging until Derek decided it was enough. He took off his pants and underwear and felt how Stiles was blindly struggling his own things off. They couldn’t bear any distance and immediately after tossing all of their clothes, they found their way back into each others arms. 

“Please, would you look at me, Stiles?”

His big, brown eyes were staring at him now, wide and beautiful, full of questions and needs.

“Hi… Feels like I haven’t seen you in ages…”

Stiles swallowed. Normally he would find his words within seconds and then get the best of Derek. But he was mute.

“Are you very nervous?”

Stiles shook his head at first, and then gave a small nod. Derek started to take care of his dick while kissing him gently on the hairline, breathing in his smell. And despite of being shy, Stiles pushed into his firm, well trained hand. The first drops of pre-cum were trailing down between Derek’s thumb and index. He removed his hand and licked them off, only to return and make Stiles feel better again.

And what better way to pleasure a guy than to tease and suck at the same time? Derek didn’t really think about it, it was just what he would have wanted for himself, although he would never ask, let alone demand for such a thing.

He lowered himself and kissed Stiles’ chest bone, a trail of kisses and devotion, making its way towards his abdomen. Taking one of Stiles’ legs, he bent it more conveniently, to grant him enough access. The red tip of his aching penis was waiting for his mouth and tongue to continue with the kissing. 

His balls were youthfully tight, twitching and waiting evermore. He was nicely trimmed and freshly showered, Derek appreciated it. He reached beside the sofa and opened the lubricant, two large drops of the clear liquid should do for now. 

Derek didn’t experiment for nothing and knew the amount which was needed. The fingers of his right hand were wet and he got back into position between Stiles’ legs. Licking the thin skin next to his dick, he felt a hot, pulsing vein stretching faintly blue over his stomach. He kissed the vein and got a rush from it. He almost wanted to bite, in a prehistoric corner of his brain, there was this want. 

His lubed up fingers started to explore and gave Stiles’ a gentle stroke  from the underside of his balls down to his pretty to-die-for ass. There was too much need inside of him to stop now. Stiles laid open and vulnerable in front of him and lift his lower back to give him even more opportunity to do whatever it was that he wanted. 

Derek tested and gently pushed forward. He found the sweetest, tightest anus and moved his fingers against it. He wanted to give him more kisses at first, but he felt so incredibly needy and simply took in the penis as deep as he could. It wasn’t very deep, this was a rare sensation for him and he’d only done it maybe twice before.

Stiles’ hips moved towards him, pushing into Derek’s mouth and throat. Derek never left and pressed his middle finger even tighter to firmly massage the very center of Stiles’ ass. 

All he felt was wanting to bite, eat and fuck. He did neither, the alternative was to sloppily swallow and gorge himself on Stiles’ beautiful penis, the tip was in perfect proportion and so soft, the skin so dense, and his own saliva gave such a neat shine to it. He wanted to ride it some day.

He took him in a little deeper, almost hitting the back of his throat, and without pushing on his own accord, the finger tip vanished inside. He wanted to gasp, but couldn’t because his mouth was filled up. It was Stiles who’d done the final push. He was moving against it and started to take control, took Derek’s finger and fucked it, careful and very gradual, but soon he lost himself to it and closed in on him.

Derek wished for his fingers to be replaced by his dick. It was an unspoken wish for now, but the prospect of getting it in the future reminded him very much of his own evident hardness. 

“Derek…Derek, please… Give me…”

He let go of Stiles’ penis to look up at his face, but his right hand continued with rhythm and let itself being ravaged.

“I need your dick inside me… please, please, do it…”

The future was closer than originally anticipated. All he knew was how much he wanted to answer in kind. He would never ever grow tired of Stiles saying please. To have him begging for more, asking, hoping and wishing for him to do it was divine. Stiles was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Derek slowly retracted his hand and Stiles allowed for his fingers to leave his anus.

“How do you want me?” Derek asked.

Stiles pushed his hips upwards, anchoring Derek close between his legs. His eyes giving all the information.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Derek rearranged himself to kneel in front of him, and pushed his knees and thighs under Stiles’ lower back. His knees weren’t likely to give out and he could hold this position easily. For a long while. It was maybe a little advanced for someone new to this, but if he was careful and didn’t go in too deep, it should work. The condom was within reach and he put it on.

Stiles got the lubricant and without breaking eye contact, he got some of it into his hand and reached down. Looking at Derek, he massaged the liquid onto himself. With the cutest smile of all time, he got more wet and ready to be entered. Enjoying the process, making it slow, he wasn’t shy anymore. Derek loved going slow. He loved it very much. And Stiles wanted to be seen like this. 

So Derek’s gaze was raking over him, from his groin, over his stomach and chest, and then melted into his eyes. Stiles refused to let him go, took Derek’s dick and guided him as close as he could. 

Seduced into penetration, Derek gave up and felt his tip to be enclosed and captured by a hot and wanting Stiles. Since he had more leverage, he tried with one push. It was so incredibly tight, but Stiles never showed any sign of wanting to stop. Instead he grabbed his own dick, while his eyes rolled back. His face was getting red, the veins in his temples were pumping delicious heat and life. He was jerking off to Derek inside him.

He was in about half shaft, pushing as careful as he was able to. He had considerable self control in some aspects, but he knew he might not last much longer. Stiles’ breathing almost stopped, all his muscles tensed up as he was clenching around Derek. Oh, to dream and never wake up from this. He had the most wonderfully carved out shoulders and arms, Derek thought for a second, when Stiles finally said:

“I’m gonna cum, please let me cum…”

“Cum for me, Stiles… Do it for me…”

Stiles shot everything over his chest and some landed on his chin. His cum voice was rumbling soft and deep. His moan was what sent Derek over the edge at last. There was nothing he wanted more than to add to the already clearing protein on Stiles’ body. 

He pulled out slowly, to make the movement less harsh through Stiles’ come down. His muscle would need a while to adjust. Then he took off the condom and with Stiles’ helpful fingers and under his loving care he gave himself a couple strokes. 

That’s all it took, he might as well had cum just from Stiles looking at him like he was meant and made for him alone. The heat shot up and wrecked his brain, it also made the purple lights appear in his periphery. Before they could turn into more, he painted Stiles with several thick stripes of cum, three powerful and necessary spurts and he was emptied. 

He could see the stars. Sometimes that’s what orgasms did to him. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing them to diminish and go back to the periphery. It worked. Stiles’ calming voice got through to him, his arms were reaching out, wanting to hold him close. 

Derek lied down next him, breathing heavily. Running a marathon was nothing to him, but this utterly intense delight was too much. Stiles was stroking his hair, whispering gently, kissing his face with little caresses of his plush lips. 

“It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay, Derek…” 

He realized that he was shaking, he never noticed it before. He had successfully pushed away the fear, and he’d done all this without ever escaping into his Nirvana. He had been here all the time, with him.

“I was here with you, I never left.”

“Yes, you’re here with me… You’ll be okay…”

Derek was out within two minutes. Sleep was restful and absolute in Stiles’ arms. 

Chapter Text

Being entirely relaxed, blissed out from sex and sheltered in Derek’s care had made him lower his defenses. In hindsight, that was a what set him off although he couldn’t bring himself to regret having opened up like this. 

Stiles was a vigilant person by nature. Always scanning his surroundings. For information, for curious details, for danger. Past events unfolding right before his eyes, or worse, behind his eyes and on the inside of his head, had made him a vigilante not only by nature, but by choice. 

It was a solid choice, he got by, felt ok. But when he was truly happy and unguarded? Those were moments when the old panic crept in.  Keeping him awake and nagging him to interrupt whatever blessed day he was experiencing.  To go back to being alert. 

Some panic attacks were a long time in the making, a gradual process until a tiny, random thing tipped everything towards the wrong direction. It would start with slight irritation, maybe moodiness. It would feel like adrenalin withdrawal, but not bad enough to really make him pay attention. 

After all, this happened regularly and mostly wouldn’t end in a full blown attack. He had a certain level of control over this. Consuming less sugar and cutting out alcohol did help. 

After saying goodbye to Derek, he went home and had something like an emotional sugar crash. There was way too much traffic in the morning and it was moving too slow. His temper grew short. He was stuck for a few minutes only, at a traffic light. When it turned green, the switch of the light signal gave his heart an uncomfortable pull before it fell into his stomach. 

He made it home just in time, didn’t bother to take off his jacket. He took a blanket from the couch, almost knocked over the side table when he grabbed it. It was very hard to coordinate when panic rose. Also breathing. And his ribs hurt from the stinging sensation in his heart.

In case he needed to throw up later, he wanted to sit this out in the bathroom. For some reason he usually felt safer in the bathroom. So Stiles crouched down next to the tub. He managed to pull the blanket tight around his body, hugged himself and waited for the first wave of nausea to subside. 

After an hour, he was done and the contents of his stomach were still in place. Panic attacks, even milder ones like this, always left him exhausted. Fumbling for his phone, he went back to the living room and lied down on the couch. His small apartment had never been finished. He still had boxes to unpack. They would remain unpacked for the next three years. 

No chance he would ever settle for safety. No chance. His eyes were very heavy and he promised himself that he would get up in a moment and properly undress to go to bed. He didn’t exactly get a lot of sleep last night.

Stiles drifted off, phone in his hand. Firmly holding on to it. He could call Derek if he really needed to, he could. 

He woke up after hours of the deepest sleep he had in a long while. It was the middle of a bright and shiny day. The morning fog was long gone and the first thing he thought about was having sex with Derek. For a split second right there, he thought it was a dream. 

Sleeping like a dead man and the earlier panic episode had made him slightly disoriented. Soon he gathered his senses and opened his eyes with a smile. No work today. Early shift tomorrow. His Dad was waiting for him, to have veggie burgers and help with another paint job, this time at the front porch. 

He had recovered from his morning attack, although he suspected it was due to the general post-sex happiness. His Dad questioned him all afternoon, recognizing some dark circles under Stiles’ eyes. 

He wanted to know why he looked so tired and worn down. Why he seemed to be so happy despite it. Always a pleasure to dodge an impromptu interrogation, Stiles had much practice at it.

When he got back from his Dad’s house, he took a long shower and got rid of the paint stains on his face and hands.

Then he was snuggling down in bed with his favorite pillow, opened his convo with Derek and found a text from him.

“I appreciate your definition of cuddling. Did you have a nice day off?”

“Yeah! It was nothing compared to the night I had with you, but still, decent:-)”

Stiles didn’t have the nerve to say anything about his panic attack. He wanted to keep this good night chat up beat. There was time for heavier conversation later on. Derek came right to the point of what Stiles wanted to talk about the most. 

“Is this meant to be a compliment on my (how shall I put this delicately) dexterity?”

“Oh my God. Yes. Did you learn to do that in cooking school??”

“I want to say no, but actually…Yes.”

“Having your fingers in me while you give me a blowjob… That’s not what I thought you would do.”

“What did you think I would do?”

“I thought it wold feel more harsh.”

“Did you think that I would just enter and fuck right away?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I like intricate things. Going in stages.”

“That’s good to know. Does it mean you like me doing those things for you? Because I would do them. I’d do everything you want.”

“I want you to take me to the Natural History Museum. If you want see it? We could make that our next date.”

Derek had perfected the concept of naïveté as a flirting tactic. Stiles didn’t mind. He wanted to go, for real. To watch Derek in a public setting would surely be something. Trips to the supermarket didn’t count.

During the week, Stiles received some news. Although he couldn’t make the time to go in full detective mode about them, he certainly was triggered. It might have been a good thing that his actual work at the police station, however mundane it could be at times, was demanding enough for him.

In recent years, Danny was texting Stiles, maybe once or twice a quarter. To check in. He’d never set foot into Beacon Hills since he left high school. He was half way through with his doctoral thesis and he was a big shot young academic in Berkeley. 

He was studying Anthropology and specialized in the cultural history of eugenics. Stiles found it quite fascinating. But life and work and obligations got in the way, and they never really got to a point where they would discuss anything more deeply than the weather in BH and the complete vanishing of the Nemeton.

On Monday, he got Danny’s first text of the year.

“Hi, heard you were next in line for a promotion. Congrats. I actually want to ask: Have you ever heard of a werewolf named Reinhold Wallstein?”

Stiles felt intrigued and alarmed at once. This was not about the weather. Or the past, this was about the now. He just sat down for 10 minutes with his lunch and almost forgot about it. He immediately typed:

“Yes. He’s on Facebook. Different name. Here’s the link.” 

Then he quickly added:

“Why are you asking?”

“I stumbled over the name during my work on eugenic enterprises before and during World War II. Hint: they never ceased to exist. Pretty sure that guy is a werewolf. Wanted to make 100% sure and check this with you. He apparently was known for his ties to the Hale pack.”

Stiles practically stumbled over his own fingers, and Danny beat him to it.

“I just saw the FB profile. That’s him. The pic I’m sending you r/n is from my research folder, dates to 1939. He must be at least 140 years old today. Probably more.”

Stiles got a photograph from Danny, binging up on his screen. A grainy black and white portrait of Reinhold in a very sleek, dark uniform with a swastika in plain sight. His currently wavy beach hair was rather short back then and he used to have a razor sharp side parting which accentuated his angled face. Idealistic, steadfast gaze. Cold and impersonal if you looked close. At first glance the persona in the old photo might have looked optimistic and winning.

“Did you hear anything about Reinhold and the Hale pack?”

“A bit.”

“Do you still have contact with cousin Miguel? He still hot? I bet he’s such a Dilf by now.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

“You two friends or something?”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“Hilarious. Think of a better joke, Stilinski, u used to be so good at them.”

“Can you sent me more pictures/info on Reinhold?”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Due to being a responsible adult he weighed the possible outcomes. Stiles could either send an equally crude reply and prove a point to Danny, like he would on any other day… or he could stay as neutral as possible. That would be the most time efficient way to go forth.

After some persuading and discussing, Danny sent him several drafted chapters of his thesis and literature lists. Stiles would need to study, but first he needed to go back to work, there was a mountain to get through. 

The day after, he was approached by Parrish. He waved him over at one of those rare moments when the office was almost empty. He looked around to make sure that no-one could hear them. Then he motioned to Stiles to have seat. Parrish said in a low voice:

“About the peppermint tea issue…”

“Yes? What did you find out?”

This promised to be interesting.

“I had it analyzed. I want to say it’s some sort of synthetic wolfsbane. The effects would be physical weakness, occasional nausea, trouble breathing. If someone wanted to make a werewolf compliant, this is what they would use. The stuff doesn’t seem to numb out the senses, though. You’d be alert and able to see, smell and hear everything, although speaking would be hard. Other vital functions would also work.”

“What vital functions?”

“Well, if you’re a male werewolf and you have this in your bloodstream, you could still get it up. Most likely that is.”

“What do you mean, most likely?”

“I’m just getting to the weird part. This particular liquid has another component. Something they would use for cattle breeding, or horse breeding. It gets the bulls and the studs ready. Whoever made this mixture really, REALLY wanted to make sure that a werewolf would be able to… you know. Get hard.”

“While being otherwise defenseless…?”

“Exactly.”

They were interrupted by Stacy Lunderman from the front desk. She came in to work at the printer in the back and she was eying them suspiciously over the rim of her huge glasses. Nobody in their right mind would even consider to get on Miss Lunderman’s bad side.

Stiles had a lot to think about during the next couple of days and was planning to discuss everything with Derek on his next day off. On the other hand, they wanted to go on another date, and maybe he shouldn’t use their precious dating time for gruesome topics like Nazi werewolves and forced breeding. Imagine the fun he might have then. 

Maybe he could talk to him about it over the phone. Yet, every time they spoke, usually at night, Stiles would push it away. Then, finally, they could meet on a Tuesday. 

THIS STORY IS DISCONTINUED. I AM CURRENTLY UPLOADING "THE SCENT OF LOVE", "CHRISTO IN LOVE" AND TEST OUT SOME NEW IDEAS FOR STEREK. THANK YOU FOR BEARING WITH ME, ALL THE BEST; ZERO:-)