A/N: So this is not only my first Teen Wolf fic, it's really the first fic I've ever written. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, review and rate and feel free to give me any tips! I already have most of it done, so we should be able to crank out an update a day. Enjoy!
Stiles Stilinski was pretty sure that his father would kill him if he learned Stiles was using a fake ID to go to Jungle. Or at least sit him down and question him seriously about his preferences. But Stiles just needed to escape. After everything that'd been going on, what with Allison's crazy grandfather trying to kill them all, and Scott being kicked off the lacrosse team and dumped by Allison. Not to mention Jackson deciding to up and move to London, breaking up with Lydia in the same motion. There'd just been a lot. And it was too much to think about, too much to worry about. He just couldn't talk about it. The words got stuck in his throat. At Jungle, he didn't need to talk. He could dance, and drink, and feel wanted. He was wanted at Jungle. After pulling on tighter jeans than he would normally wear, along with a long sleeved black henley that he knew showed off the muscles he gained training for lacrosse, Stiles headed out the front door. His dad was working late, and Stiles had already told him that he was going to Danny's house to play video games and practice for lacrosse. It's not a complete lie, he justified as he pulled up in front of his friend's house. Danny walked across the lawn, getting into the passenger seat of Stiles' car. Danny smiled, and they were off. Jungle was already packed. After waiting in line for a bit, Danny and Stiles got inside, their ID's sparing them from being marked with the dreaded X's on the backs of their hands. While Danny grabbed them something to drink, Stiles scanned the crowd. It was a pretty good looking group of people, though they were all men. Stiles didn't care. It was nice dancing with them, kissing them, knowing that they will take control and that for at least a little bit, he won't have to worry, won't have to plan, could just sway to the music and lose himself. Which is why, when Danny came back with the drinks to find Stiles being chatted up by a strikingly gorgeous boy with blond hair and cheekbones that could cut glass, he just smiled and handed him the drink.
"I didn't know Isaac was your type." Danny called to Stiles over the music. Stiles furrowed my brow.
"He's not," He replied, downing half his beer in one gulp. Danny laughed, and pointed at the boy next to Stiles.
"You sure? Because that guy could be his brother." Stiles saw what Danny was talking about, and immediately excused himself from that conversation. Danny laughed, and patted him on the back. "Now let's dance!"
Stiles smiled at him, finishing his beer. He grabbed Danny's hand, and the two of them danced their way into the crowd. Danny was stolen away by some guy who looked like he thought he could get inside Danny if he just danced close enough. Stiles rolled his eyes, and grabbed the neck of the boy dancing behind him, meeting his eyes over his shoulder and giving a smirk. The boy placed his hands on Stiles' hips, and they danced until Stiles decided he needs another drink. He extracted himself from his dance partner, who pouted in such a way that Stiles just wanted to bite his bottom lip. He was fascinated by the development. While he'd never considered himself exactly straight, he'd never considered himself anything else, either. Bisexuality is a thing though, right? Stiles justified, before smiling at the boy and walking to the bar. There he decided that to celebrate his newfound sexuality, he would get completely wasted. He downed two shots, before grabbing a more reasonable beer and walking back onto the dance floor, feeling pleasantly confident and in tune with the music. Or at least he was, until two overly excited dancers bumped him and he lost his balance, falling into the surprisingly sturdy lap of some poor guy sitting near the bar. Stiles got a wicked smile on his face, figuring that while he was here, he may as well make the most of it. He grinded into the lap, swaying his hips to the beat. He heard the intake of breath behind him, felt the man's hands grab his hips. He bit his lip, leaning back into the guy until he heard a strangled gasp.
"Stiles?" the man asked. Stiles was up on his feet so fast his head spun, and he remembered that fast movements and alcohol do not mix as he almost fell flat on his ass. He blinked multiple times, trying to process the impossible sight before him.
"Derek? What the hell are you doing here?" Stiles could seriously not help looking Derek up and down, like he was expecting to see something proving that this could not be the same irritable, angry werewolf that he knew. All he saw was that damn Derek knew how to dress for the gay club. He was showing off his muscled physique in a way that made Stiles look back fondly on the time he got to hold that up soaking wet for two hours. Focus, Stilinski. You just grinded yourself all over Derek Hale.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You're not even seventeen! And are you drunk?" Derek asked, sniffing the air around Stiles.
"Alright, Fido, back off." Stiles grumbled, pushing against his chest. "You still haven't answered my question."
"And you still haven't told me why you decided to rub yourself all over me." Derek nearly growled, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, like you didn't love it." Stiles scoffed. Derek's eyebrow climbed even higher. "Okay, you don't want to tell me why you're here, I don't want to tell you why I'm here, how about we just agree to pretend like this never happened and never ever tell another soul about this, like ever? Sounds good to me, okay great." Stiles patted Derek's shoulder, and made to move away but Derek grabbed his wrist before he could get very far.
"Nobody knows. Okay, Stiles? Nobody." Derek said, looking at Stiles with his most threatening glare. He cocked his head to the side, thinking for a moment. "You're not driving home tonight, right?"
"That really depends on Danny. He may drive, but if the way he was giggling earlier is any indication, he may be worse off than me. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Stiles shrugged, trying to get his hand out of Derek's grip.
"Stiles. You're not driving home tonight." Derek definitely growled it this time.
"What do you want me to do? Grab a cab with my copious funds that, oh yeah, I don't have? Call my dad, the sheriff, to come pick me up, ensuring that I am never allowed to leave the house again? Good idea, I should come to you for advice more often." Stiles tried to pull his arm away again, though it really only felt like he was doing a fantastic job of dislocating his wrist.
"I will drive you and Danny home." It sounded like it cost Derek a great deal to say this.
"Alright, dude, I know I'm fantastic at giving lap dances, but that doesn't mean I'll go home with you right away." Stiles rolled his eyes.
"I will drive you and Danny home right now," Derek elaborated. Stiles groaned, looking around the club for Danny. He spotted him making out with some guy on the dance floor. Stiles smiled, though Danny could do way better. Derek followed his gaze, narrowing his eyes when he spots Danny. "Is that all you guys do when you come here?"
"Not all we do," Stiles smiled, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Derek groaned, finally releasing his wrist and pushed Stiles away.
"Go collect your friend. And then come straight back here." Derek ordered. Which basically guaranteed that Stiles would do almost anything but that. He walked over to Danny, dancing through the crowd, and when Danny saw Stiles' manless state, he grabbed a random (and exceptionally attractive) guy from apparently out of nowhere. The guy and Stiles danced, grinding on each other, until the guy started placing bruising kisses on Stiles lips, which he hungrily reciprocated. Fingers pulling through hair, Stiles was loving every minute - until he was torn away, rudely wrenched from the good tasting man he'd been kissing. He looked around and saw that Danny had met a similar fate, and had been similarly displeased by it. He twisted and turned, trying to see who had their hand on his shirt collar, only succeeding in falling flat on his ass. Danny found this hysterical, laughing so hard that he fell flat on his ass. Stiles caught him, slightly, knocking the wind out of his lungs and causing him to laugh like an idiot, too. Whoever had decided to rudely pull them from their fun was decidedly not impressed, yanking them to their feet and out the door. In the warm summer night air, Stiles saw who had been ruining their good night.
"Derek, come on, just let us have a little fun!" He whined, tripping over his own feet as Derek half led, half dragged the two to his car.
"I thought his name was Miguel?" Danny asked, and Stiles burst out laughing even harder, because that was ridiculous. This whole situation was ridiculous.
"Alright, get in the car, don't throw up on anything, and where the hell does Danny live?" Derek said, all in one breath as he pushed them into the back seat of his Camaro.
"Hey! We can't leave my baby here. You have to drive us back in that. Or I'm not going." Stiles insisted, climbing back out of the car and falling on the asphalt.
"Yeah, me neither! I wanna ride Stiles...I wanna ride in Stiles' Jeep." Danny said, laughing when he realized what he had said.
"I hate you both." Derek snarled, dragging them over to Stiles' car. He helped them both into the back seat, before getting in the front and starting the engine. "But I hate this car more. Jesus, Stiles, how is this thing still running?"
"You shut your mouth! She is perfect." Stiles defended, and began cooing at his car.
"I live..I live the street over from Scott," Danny said, leaning over Stiles' lap to tell Derek. Stiles wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him closer. "Stiles you're not my type."
"Oh come on, I am so many people's type. How can anyone resist the great and powerful Stiles?" Stiles said in a grand voice, making Danny snort.
"I don't know, witnessing that did a pretty good job." Danny laughed, pushing Stiles. Derek watched the whole encounter through narrowed eyes, before putting the Jeep in reverse, and heading towards Danny's house. Danny and Stiles ended up passing out in the back seat, cuddling each other. Pulling up at Danny's house was relatively easy, there were no heartbeats inside so he figured the Mahealani's were out for the night. He turned the Jeep off and looked at the boys in the back seat. Why on earth was Stiles at Jungle? Why on earth did Stiles have to give him a lap dance? If he had been paying any attention, it wouldn't have been hard to figure out Stiles was the one grinding into him based on scent alone, but he had been too distracted by the skill with which the boy was moving his hips, turning Derek's mind to mush. Then when it was Stiles… well that was confusing. That was beyond confusing. Stiles was annoying, not sexy. Fidgety, talkative, hyper, nosy, infuriating. Not sexy. Not mind-meltingly mesmerizing like the boy who gave him a lap dance that was better than much of the sex Derek had had. He growled, realizing that thinking about this was making his pants tighter, and shook Stiles and Danny awake with more force than may have been necessary.
"Whasshappenin?" Stiles jolted upright, smacking his head on the window. Danny came to more slowly, looking around and blinking slowly.
"We're at Danny's house. Get out." Derek barked.
"Whoa, my car, remember? I'll get out if I want to." Stiles settled back into the seat.
"Stiles, I wanna get out." Danny mumbled sleepily.
"Yeah, me too." Stiles agreed, and they tumbled out of the Jeep. Derek handed Stiles back his keys before turning and walking back in the direction of Jungle. "Hey!" Derek stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow to look at Stiles while a faint blush crept up the younger boy's neck. "Thanks. No one will know." Derek nodded slowly, and then turned and walked back into the dark.
