Title: Shake on It

Pairing: Stiles/Derek – Slash, m/m

Show: Teen Wolf

Author's Note: This story doesn't fall anywhere specifically in the storyline.

**Quick update, but this is a little shorter than usual. Love all the reviews! Thanks so much guys!

His dad was working late again. As the clock hit 1 a.m. Stiles rolled over in his bed, his mind littered with anxious thoughts. It was normal for him to worry about his dad, but lately, after discovering the true terrors that haunt their small California town; his worries had grown to agonizing concerns.

He had tried to sleep, but to no avail. He kept expecting the phone to ring, knowing that when he answered it, it would be the dispatcher on the other end. All they would say was, 'Stiles… It's your dad…' and he would automatically know the rest. And in that moment, his life would fall to pieces, shattering into the past where it was once whole. That's all it took. The ring of the phone to kill the life he now had.

It was these kinds of thoughts that kept him staring blankly up at the ceiling.

He glanced at the clock again: 1:04.

Great, four minutes had gone by since the last time he had looked.

He sighed loudly, finally admitting defeat and coming to terms with the fact that he would be awake until his dad got home. With this being the case he would need distractions. Something to keep his mind off of his father.

What was exciting in his life? Oh yeah, the fact that he had kissed Derek freaking Hale. And it was him that kissed Derek, granted Derek had strongly influenced the situation, but it had been Stiles to press his lips against the werewolf's.

Why had he done it? It seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time. If he hadn't it would've been like leaving someone hanging that was trying to give him a high five. Awkward. And it would've left things unresolved. So, kissing Derek was the logical action to take.

The kiss had officially sealed the deal on their arrangement, which Stiles still held some reservations about. But with his new rules, it appeared that he would get the answers he had been craving.

As far as feelings went… he hadn't felt any stirrings when they kissed. And honestly when he thought about the lip lock he was tempted to grab his pillow and place it firmly over his face. Technically it had been his first kiss (granted this was because he was excluding the kiss he had with Lucy-Ann back in the 5th grade). As far as kisses went, he figured it had been alright. Never in his life did he ever think that his first kiss would be with a half man half werewolf, but hey, made the story more interesting.

He could just see it now: him describing his first kiss to his future kids. 'Yes, daddy's first kiss was with another man. And he could turn himself into a werewolf.'

Okay… that actually sounded pretty badass.

So maybe he had scored a good first kiss. But at the end of the day, it hadn't done anything for him. Not in his nether regions, anyway.

There was a legitimate chance that he was not and never would be attracted to Derek sexually… which would make this entire pact a little ridiculous.

But there had been that one moment… when Derek had advanced on him in the locker room. He had been threatening his life, yes, but his proximity had been so close that it had undoubtedly sent a rush of arousal through Stiles. Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it, but that was unlikely because Derek tended to shove people into walls and up against hard surfaces. Maybe it was what he had said… you know, the part about him doing things to Stiles' body with his teeth. Something about that confession had stuck with Stiles… and still was.

Just then Stiles felt a small twinge of stimulation run through his crotch. He shifted his body slightly, liking the sensation he had felt. Lazily he let his hand travel down, beneath the covers. At first he let his fingertips run lightly across his lower abdomen, stopping at his pant's line.

He closed his eyes, picturing Derek standing in front of him… close, like he had been in the locker room. He could see Derek's lax lips, revealing a slither of his teeth.

He angled his fingers differently to get just the sensation of the nails, sharper and harder. They could be teeth. Derek's teeth against his skin.

And another shot of arousal ran through him and he spread his legs a little wider. His fingers broke the clothes barrier and he felt his own hot flesh, already semi hard. His fingers remained yielding, trying to entice himself as much as possible before hardening or quickening his touch.

He found himself exhaling heavier and his back arched slightly, his hips coming up to meet his hand. He began adding pressure intermittently, beginning to stroke a little faster.

He bared his teeth momentarily as a longer, deeper wave of pleasure coursed through his small frame. His hips bucked uncontrollably as the sensations mounted. And the last image he had before he climaxed was of Derek, leaning into him… his firm body pressing itself against Stiles.

He came, hearing his mind scream the name Derek, but he managed to control his actual mouth. Some moans might've escaped but he'd be damned before he screamed out Derek's name in ecstasy.

Of course, a couple days ago, he would have probably said the same thing about masturbating to Derek and look at where he was now.

Sticky and drained.

His breathing had finally settled and he felt relaxed for the first time in a while, until… there was an extremely loud bang on the outside of his window and within seconds a figure was inside his room and at the foot of his bed.

"Holy shit!" he yelled, almost scaring himself off the bed.

Derek stood, panting slightly as his eyes searched frantically around the room.

"Jesus! You have to stop doing that!" Stiles screamed. "What the hell are you doing here?" He had managed to bunch the comforter into his lap to cover his still naked downstairs.

"I thought you were in trouble," Derek said as he realized that whatever he thought had been a false alarm.

"What?" Stiles asked. "Why?"

"Because I felt your heart race increase drastically… it had been calm all night until just recently," he answered.

Stiles closed his eyes, quickly putting the pieces together.

Shit.

"Have you ever heard of a nightmare?" Stiles said, (desperately) trying to make an excuse for why his heart rate would increase significantly at 1:30 in the morning.

"Of course, but…" Derek trailed off, obviously not content with the whole nightmare excuse. "This was different." His light eyes landed on Stiles and stayed there, lingering as if he was just now realizing how uncomfortable Stiles was acting. And then, ever so slightly, he inhaled a little sharper than usual and his head began to cock to the side.

He was putting the pieces together and there was nothing Stiles could do to stop him.

"Oh God," Stiles said, covering his face with his hands.

Had he really just been caught masturbating by the person he had been masturbating to?

"Oh," Derek said, understanding the situation fully now.

"Yep!" Stiles said. "So you can leave now… obviously there is no emergency here so…" He made a shooing motion towards his open window. "If you could please leave so I can proceed to kill myself."

Derek continued to stand where he was. "But…" he said, the gears in his head still turning.

"What?" Stiles snapped.

"You called out my name," Derek said, his eyes suddenly darker than they were before.

"What?" Stiles said. "I did not."

"You did." Derek nodded. "I heard you. In your head you called out my name."

Stiles froze, urgently trying to think of anything to say. Anything that would exonerate him. And when he couldn't, he grabbed the nearest pillow. "So I'll just be over here smothering myself to death." With that he slammed the pillow against his face and collapsed back onto the bed.

He didn't have to hear Derek to know that he had walk over to him. A second later the pillow was pulled off his face and thrown to the end of the bed.

"Derek, just please… go away," Stiles said, not looking at the man standing over him.

Derek moved his hand as if to rest it on Stiles' chest.

"Don't," Stiles said, putting his finger up as a warning.

Derek slowly retracted his hand. "I'm not going to do anything," he assured. "Although it seems my work here has already been done."

A look formed on Stiles' face that was the epitome of shut-the-fuck-up.

"But next time, can I please be present as well?" Derek asked.

"Go away Derek," Stiles said.

"But—"

"If I say yes will you go away?" Stiles asked.

Derek just smiled down at Stiles.

"Then yes, fine," Stiles said. "The next time I…" he hesitated. "Just yes, okay?"

Derek began to backtrack away and Stiles rolled over so that his back was facing the werewolf. And at that very moment, the sound of the garage door opening resounded through the room.

"Oh," Stiles said, sitting up. "My dad is home so you'll need to go out…" He looked around his room. Derek was already gone. "…the window."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The next morning Stiles awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking. He stretched his body, reaching his arms high above his head. His muscles quivered slightly at the strain, but it ultimately felt good. He breathed the intoxicating smell in, feeling his stomach already growling for sustenance.

He shifted his body, the sheets getting wrapped around him as he did.

There was a weight on him, but it was distant and intangible. He cleared his mind wondering why he felt so… off, when he remembered the happenings from the night before.

"Oh… right," Stiles mumbled. "I singlehandedly (no pun intended) lost all of my dignity last night."

What a great way to start the day.

He ambled down the stairs, acting a lot happier than he felt. He smiled as he met his dad's gaze.

"Morning," his dad said. "I made breakfast." The simple smile that accompanied his words was enough to turn Stiles' smile into a genuine one as well.

"Thanks, dad," he said, sitting at the table.

"Perfect timing too. Bacons almost done."

"Great," Stiles said, already losing himself to his thoughts.

How could he avoid Derek… forever?

The only answer that kept popping into his head was: kill him. And since he was no where near strong enough to accomplish that, he'd just have to live with the immense embarrassment of last night.

Maybe if he got Scott in on it too… they could possibly tag team together to kill Derek. But in that case Stiles would have to explain why he wanted the werewolf dead. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

"Stiles?" his dad said, setting the plate in front of his son. His eyes conveyed soft concern.

"Yeah," Stiles said, breaking out of his thoughts.

"Are you okay?" his dad asked. He inhaled as if he wanted to continue, but he stopped himself. Instead he just studied his son quietly, knowing something was wrong but not willing to ask what.

Stiles could tell his dad wanted in. Wanted to know about Stiles' life. Wanted to be there for his son, but for so many reasons Stiles just couldn't bring himself to fully let his dad in. First and foremost, it would put his dad in danger and he could never do that. And secondly, he didn't want to disappoint his dad in any way. And he feared if he knew about certain parts of his life… he would inevitably be disappointed.

"I'm fine, dad," he said, putting on that smile again. He was going to add, 'I'm just worried about school' but that would be highly improbable.

His dad still didn't buy it. "…Alright," he said, dropping it. "Oh," the dad changed his features to lighter emotions. "I found this for you on the front steps this morning."

The dad held a single red rose out. With it was attached a small, folded note.

Stiles took the present, reading his name on the outside of the note. He opened the piece of paper and inside was written:

Meet me after school

My house

He closed the note, placing it onto the table.

"Someone special?" his dad asked.

"Not quite," Stiles said.

"Are you going to go meet… them?"

Stiles noticed the avoidance of a distinct pronouns… not, are you going to go meet her, but them. His dad totally knew.

"No," Stiles said, getting up from the table.

"But your breakfast?" the dad said.

"Right," Stiles said, stuffing half the food into his mouth. "So good… thanks dad," he said, voice muffled. He left the table, leaving a trail of food behind.

When he got back to his room he threw the rose onto the floor.

"Send me a freakin' rose," Stiles said. "I'll just return the favor and send you a huge, fucking bouquet of wolfsbane!"