notes: another tumblr prompt fill. I think I may have rushed the ending but I was sitting on this for awhile and just needed to get it done.
prompt was: Could you write a fic where Stiles and Derek are together and Stiles is still in High School, but everyone knows they're together and he starts to get bullied by members of the school and pack, and his friends are oblivious, but Derek isn't. And he tries to get one of Stiles' friends to do something, but he finally acts himself when Stiles is injured badly.
"You should tell your friends."
"About us?" Stiles squawked, looking up at his boyfriend. Derek rolled his eyes.
"About Jackson."
Stiles slumped back into his seat. "Oh. No, I can handle it."
"You have a huge bruise on your shoulder." Derek lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt and raised his brows pointedly. "Seriously, someone needs to punch the guy."
"He's made of rocks," Stiles said, pushing his sleeve back down. "And has a lot of friends who are also made of rocks."
Derek frowned and pulled the younger boy closer so that they were flush against each other on the couch. They were enjoying a few peaceful hours alone at Derek's house which for once was free from the prying eyes and ears of his family.
"I could punch him for you."
"As sweet as that is, and it is really sweet, I don't really want my boyfriend in handcuffs. Well, not unless I'm the one with the key." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Derek gave him an affectionate shove with his shoulder. "Don't be crude, I'm being serious."
"First off, that's impossible. Second off, so am I. You can't punch him. We already happen to be breaking a law, in case you'd forgotten, and we shouldn't be pushing the boundaries of other laws on top of it."
Derek sighed. He was right. Technically, Stiles was still a minor and Derek was, well, not. They'd been dating for a month or two in secret. Derek had just come home from college and upon going to one of his sister Cora's lacrosse games he'd found himself unable to look away from a certain mole-spattered, pale benchwarmer. Stiles had grown into himself since Derek had left Beacon Hills four years ago. He wasn't the gangly young teen Derek remembered seeing around town. His cheekbones were more defined and his shoulders broader. And he had an ass that Derek had instantly wanted to reach out and grab.
He hadn't stood a chance.
And it wasn't like Stiles was super underage or anything. He'd be eighteen in a month and then their relationship would be perfectly legal. In the meantime they just didn't tell anyone about it. They had a pretty good system, mostly meeting out of town or out on the preserve, away from curious eyes. For now it was enough. Derek was a patient person, and he didn't want to screw up what they had by being careless, not when they were so close to Stiles' birthday.
The only real problem was that while Derek found Stiles insanely attractive and incredible, he was still a giant nerd. Admittedly, that was a part of his charm, but that charm didn't extend to everyone. Stiles was more often than not the butt of Jackson's jokes and an easy target for his bullying.
Mostly Stiles didn't let it bother him, he just made sarcastic comment, flipped the guy off, and went on with his life. But lately it had gotten worse and he was leaving school with bruises. Stiles said it was because he'd had a chemistry project with Lydia and the two had actually developed a sort of friendship. One that Jackson wasn't too happy about.
It wasn't a secret that Stiles had practically worshipped Lydia throughout their entire school didn't anymore of course, but there was no way he could convincingly tell Jackson that. Not without letting their secret slip.
Derek just wished somebody would do something about it. He wished Stiles would tell his friends. Scott would stick up for him in a heartbeat. Scott would do anything for Stiles.
"I think you should punch him," Derek said, dropping a kiss on his boyfriend's forehead.
Stiles snorted. "Yeah, okay, I'll also wear a hula skirt and ride a moose through town."
Derek hummed his approval. "I look forward to it."
"So what's that one from?" Derek asked, eyeing the scrape on Stiles' elbow.
"That one was totally me I swear," he said quickly. "Jackson has actually let up a bit. I think Danny bitched him out or something."
"Good, I hope it stays that way."
"You worry too much."
Derek huffed. "Someone has to look out for your ass."
"You can look as much as you want," Stiles said, climbing onto his boyfriends lap and straddling his thighs with his own. "As long as you promise to touch it to."
Derek rolled his eyes but happily obliged the request.
At least two weeks passed without incident and Derek was breathing a bit easier about the whole situation. He knew he was being overprotective, maybe a little paranoid (it wasn't like Stiles was completely incapable of taking care of himself) but he was worried all the same. He was pretty sure he was in love with Stiles. Like the big, all-encompassing, rest of their lives, getting a dog together, in love. And he wanted to protect him.
The reprieve doesn't last though and the next time Jackson tries to use Stiles as a punching bag, Derek is there.
The Tornadoes had not been doing well in the lacrosse game all night. Stiles and Scott were warming the bench per usual, Lydia and Scott's girlfriend Allison sitting right behind them and talking animatedly. Derek wanted to sit near them but both he and Stiles had decided awhile ago that it wouldn't be wise. Instead Derek was sitting with Erica and Boyd, Cora's best friends, sneaking glances over at the bench whenever he could get away with it.
He honestly wasn't paying that much attention to the game despite his insistence to Cora how much he loved lacrosse.
Suddenly though Jackson was storming off the field, Coach calling for a time out. The blond was swearing about something while his teammates tried to calm him down. Derek glanced over to where Stiles was sitting and found him looking over at Jackson and then turning back to Lydia, talking about something. The redhead didn't seem particularly interested in her boyfriend's meltdown.
Unfortunately Jackson clearly thought she should be interested and when he realized his girlfriend was ignoring him and talking to Stiles, Derek could see his face turn red even from the other side of the bleachers. He felt himself twitch while he resisted the urge to run over. He told Stiles he wouldn't interfere.
Jackson had made his way to the second string bench and was towering over Stiles, silently fuming. Stiles arched a brow at him like a challenge. Jackson took it.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing with my girlfriend Stilinski?"
"Nothing dude, calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down you fucking loser. Get away from my girlfriend."
"Jackson please, you're embarrassing yourself," said Lydia, casually inspecting her nails as if this was a normal occurrence. Maybe it was.
"What are you even doing talking to this loser Lyds? He's trash."
Lydia straightened her spine at that, eyes narrowed.
"You really need to relax bro," Stiles said, leaning back against the bleacher behind him. It was a dumb thing to do and Derek could see Jackson's agitation grow, his fists twitching. And that was all he needed before he found himself moving towards them. Stiles' eyes widened as he came up behind Jackson just as the blond raised his fist.
Derek grabbed it and swung the boy around to face him.
"You need to back off."
"What the fuck, who the fuck are you?"
"Back. Off."
Jackson yanked his fist away and glared. "Why don't you get lost and stay out of my business."
Derek took a menacing step forward so that they were almost nose to nose. "If you put your hands on my boyfriend you make it my business. Now back off."
Silence. Derek let his words roll around in his brain for a moment before he realized what he'd said. Shit.
He was definitely not supposed to refer to Stiles as his boyfriend. They still had a week before he turned eighteen. He could have just screwed up everything.
Derek glanced over at Stiles who was looking at him wide-eyed and mouth gaping. But then the silence passed and Coach was yelling and Jackson huffed and pushed past Derek to rejoin the team. Stiles leapt from his place on the bench and punched him lightly on the arm.
"You idiot, we had one week and you had to go and spill the beans." His voice was light despite the accusation and he was grinning.
"I'm sorry," Derek said, running his hand through his hair and trying to look apologetic. Stiles reached up and pecked him on the cheek, still smiling, and then turned to his friends.
"So guys, this is my boyfriend Derek."
