(Heads up, there's a big ole A/N at the end talking about asexuality and Ares - Animefreak4994, I see you boo boo) (before I forget: I didn't name Ares Aracely bc it had ace in it. I picked Ares before Aracely, and Aracely was the only name I could get that nickname from, but that's a cool catch! I didn't even notice it lol)

After my first alarm goes off, I stay in bed for thirty minutes. Staring up at the dark ceiling and wanting nothing more than to slip back into the abyss of sleep, because my stupid ass- my dumb, drunk ass - fucked up last night with Derek.

You just had to tell him. You just had to throw it out there, didn't you?

I whine, grabbing my pillow and pressing it against my face in hope that I can just smother myself into unconsciousness. Idiot. IDIOT. IDIOT.

Oh, he had said. What does that even mean, Oh. As in, Oh, that sucks, let's never speak again? Or is it more of an Oh, that's weird, but okay I can work with it. Or maybe even a blessed Oh, okay, I respect your sexuality and understand what you need and will work with you-

It doesn't matter what that damn Oh meant, because my stupid stupid self made him leave before he could explain the oh.

He could have stopped me though. He could have asked me to wait. I would have. Probably. Unless he was respecting my decision to to be left alone? Or maybe he wanted an excuse to run away as soon as possible, because "What the hell even is that, asexuality?" as Elliot had blurted when I came out to him.

Ay niña, you done fucked up a perfectly good relationship.

But what if I haven't yet? Maybe-maybe he'll text later, and we can act like last night wasn't a thing. We'll get lunch sometime this week. We'll plot a murder most foul and kill the alpha and we'll be bros again-

"Derek Hale, I like you. Like like."

"Ares Delgado, I like you."

"Like like?"

"Like like."

GOD WHY DID WE HAVE TO SAY THAT.

I let out a frustrated scream into my pillow. I'm going back to Texas. I'm going back to Warren and Sonya and live as a basement dweller with them.

Ya levantate, niña soflamera. I groan at the voice, which sounds suspiciously like Elisa, and can all but feel the phantom hand that would often accompany the voice with a smack across my shoulders. Why can't she just leave me alone, even now? Levantate, huevona!

I force myself up, because as much as I hate that stupid phantom voice, it has a good point. I can't just lay here all morning. Productive things need to happen, especially since I've flaked on running. Twice already. A shower needs to be had, breakfast and coffee has to be made for the McCalls of the house, and then work.

The world doesn't stop just because you fucked up your chances with the residential asshole werewolf.

I hear Scott come down the stairs, and his footsteps pause in the living room. I half expect him to make a break for the door, which would be ridiculous, because he still has an hour before school, and it only takes him at the most fifteen minutes to get there on his bike. But in the end, the smell of fresh bacon, eggs with chorizo, and warm tortillas entices him enough to get him to drag his feet to the kitchen.

He appears at the entrance of the kitchen, hesitant to come in. I look at him, banish the sight of golden eyes before it can manifest in my minds eye, and nod to the table where his plate waits. A rigidness I almost didn't catch before melts away from him, and the closed off expression he seemed to have adopted from Derek is replaced with a hopeful shine in his eyes. A flicker of my idiot little cousin before monday night. A flicker, but there nonetheless.

He makes his way to the table, moving far more carefully than he ever has since I've been here, and I hold off the need to roll my eyes.

"Quieres café?" I ask, already reaching for a mug for both himself and myself. He hums in affirmation, and I pour a healthy serving in both mugs, though more in mine than his so he has room for creamer. There's enough left in the pot for Melissa's thermos, and her breakfast burrito has already been wrapped and set aside for her to grab on her way out. I bring both mugs to the table, setting one in front of Scott and take the other with me when I move to sit across from him at the table.

We sit in silence, and I watch as he pours creamer in his drink, mixes it, and takes a tentative sip.

"Good?"

He looks up and offers a small smile. "Good." He pauses, glancing down at the food before glancing up at me. "Ares, are you… Okay?"

My brows furrow in confusion. "From Monday? Yeah, mijo-"

"No, not Monday-I mean, yeah, Monday too- but I mean…" he hesitates, as if he's trying to decide if it's worth bringing up. "Last night?"

Ah. Right. Of course he heard that. "You… heard us talking?" I ask, blowing at my cup to avoid looking at him.

"Caught bits and pieces. I tried not to listen!" he adds in a rush. "It's just, you can't exactly turn it off." He gestures to his head, and I nod in understanding. "But, it wasn't just that. I mean, you came in and listened to Vicente Fernandez and Juan Gabriel for like, two hours before you fell asleep."

"Con dinero y sin dinero-!" I start singing, holding up my mug to mimic sloshing around a bottle of cerveza.

"Ares," Scott scolds, and I bring my drink back down and take a drink. "I'm being serious. You and Derek are… close, I guess." I avert my gaze, grabbing at one of the tortillas and tearing at it. "What, uh, what happened between you two last night?"

I look at him. "What happened with you two last night?' I counter, and he huffs.

"We went to go see Harris. Apparently Laura went to see him before she died."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I dunno. Derek didn't say. And he didn't get anything out of Harris, because the Alphakindashowedup." He says the last bit in a rush, and its then I realize he's hanging out too much with Stiles. But I hear what he has to say well enough. And it's alarming, to say the least.

"God, is your teacher still alive?"

"Yeah. It ran after we showed up, but we didn't get to talk to Harris." Scott takes a moment to shovel some food in his mouth. "But Derek says Allison's necklace might be another lead, so I'm gonna ask about it today. See if I can find anything about it."

"Huh."

He nods, and we fall back into silence. It isn't… uncomfortable, but it isn't exactly comfortable either. He eats, I drink, and we wait for Melissa to come down to dish out "good mornings." But I can't really take this, and he keeps looking at me like he's waiting for me to say something.

Better not disappoint him.

"I got drunk last night," I tell him, and he straightens in interest, recognizing a story. "And I-I came out." I glance up at him. "As ace."

"Oh." There it is again, that damn oh. But Scott's known about me, found out the day he asked about a pin I have stuck on my battered old backpack, now hidden away in my trunk. He didn't quite understand, but he was respectful. Supportive. "How'd he take it?"

Oh.

"I don't think he took it at all." I huff. "He just stood there. 'Oh' he said. Just. Oh." I shrug. "I dunno, I was drunk. And I don't know what that means! Is he cool with it? Is he not? Jesus, I don't think he'd be like Elliot, but what if he got mad that I made him leave?" I cover my face with my hands. "This is stupid. Get the guy and immediately fuck it up."

Scott is suspiciously silent. I thought he'd be ecstatic with this screw up between me and Derek. No more having him around if we don't fix it. No more having to deal with him any more than he has to. I peek at him between my fingers and remove my hands at the contemplative look he has on his face.

"I don't think," he starts, speaking slowly as if gathering his thoughts, "Derek would be bothered by seeing someone who is ace." He pauses. "I don't think Derek would care that it's you who's ace," he corrects, and his voice is a bit strained, like he has to force himself to say it. Which makes sense, because Scott would never say anything in Derek favor for anything.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Explain your defence," I order, and his face twists in distaste.

"I'm not defending him," he snaps, and I arch a brow. "I'm just saying. Ares, he…" Scott takes a breath, preparing himself for what he has to say. "Derek likes you. Like. Really likes you. You're practically his Allison!"

The words take a second a sink in. Because Scott's feelings for Allison are… something else. And for him to say that… I wave it off.

"Thanks, but even if Derek does like me, I'm probably not gonna be anyone's Allison."

Scott huffs. "Fine, not his Allison." I nod, because that's more like it- "You're his Ares. His crappy human, or whatever it is he calls you." I stare at him in surprise. "Look, I don't like Derek, or trust him, and I hate myself a little talking him up to you, but I'm not saying all this crap for him. I'm saying it for you, because you like him, and he likes you and I don't want you to walk around the house all mopey all the time." He stabs at his eggs in annoyance.

I can't help but smile at his reasoning. But still, there's that doubt that's probably never gonna leave me alone until I hear it from Derek himself, and even then it's up in the air. But Scott's as good as stand in as any. Much better than Stiles, that's for sure.

"Scott, would you still be with Allison if she didn't, you know."

"Want sex?" I huff, but nod. He leans back in thought. "I mean, sex is great, but it's not why I love her. I love her. Her smile. Her eyes. Her dimples. The way she cares and isn't evil like her family."

One of these things is not like the other. But I guess I get his point.

"That's impressively poetic for someone who's barely passing English."

"I could write a sonnet for her."

I roll my eyes at him. "Thanks, Scott."

Melissa chooses this time to make her appearance, walking in the kitchen with a pleased smile. "I thought I smelled something delicious," she says before pressing a kiss to Scott's head and dropping a hand on my hurt shoulder. I wince, just a bit, and she doesn't seem to notice.

"Burrito?" I ask, reaching across the table for the wrapped goods and holding it out for her.

"Thank you, honey. You didn't run today?" She takes the food and moves back to the counter to prepare her coffee.

I glance at Scott. "I think I'm gonna hold off on running for a while," I say. "Considering I keep hurting myself."

"It's probably for the best." She comes back and taps my head. "Let me see." I huff and turn in my chair. She takes my face in her hands, eyes scanning the marks. "Swelling's gone down, which is good. You're incredibly lucky you didn't get a concussion out of it."

"I'm invincible," I assure her. "Soy el Chapulín Colorado."

Scott scoffs. "You fall enough."

"Rude!"

"Alright you two. I'm off. Scott, I'll be at your game tonight, so play your best!"

"Game?" I look to Scott as Melissa leaves, breakfast in tow.

"If we win, we go to State." He pauses. "You're coming?"

"Do you want me to come?"

"Duh, you idiot cousin."

I fight back a smile. "Then I'm there."

It's during my lunch break that Scott texts and orders me outside because he's about to call me with super secret werewolf information.

"What's up-"

"Jackson knows!" Scott exclaims, and I stop short. He sounds panicked as he goes on. "I don't know how he found out, but he knows about me and Derek and he threatened to tell Allison!"

"What."

"I didn't tell him, I swear!"

God. Dios. Why do You test me so? "No, I know you didn't tell him." I throw my head back and run a hand through my hair. "What does he want?"

"What?"

"He's blackmailing you, isn't he? What does he want?" Scott goes quiet, and when he speaks, it's a mumble I can't understand. "Mijo, I need you to speak up."

"The Bite. He wants to be like us." It's all I can do to not throw my phone, because are you kidding me? And I say as much out loud. "No, I'm not kidding," Scott snaps. "Ares, what do I do?!"

"Calm the fuck down, for starters," I tell him, struggling to do the very thing I told him to do. I take a breathe and try to shove down the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. "Fuck," I breathe, closing my eyes.

If Jackson tells Allison, Scott and Derek are fucked. If he tells, he's fucked, because lord knows the Alpha will murder him.

"Is he bluffing at all?" I ask, hoping against hope.

"Didn't sound like it."

Of course not. "Look, you're gonna have to figure something out. Tell him how shitty it is having someone in your head. Tell him the Argents will murder him. Just… get him to back off."

Scott sputters on the other end. "How am I-"

"Dude, I don't know! But you know him better than I do." I pause. "Scott, I can't figure this one out for you. Unless you choose to slash his tires. That's my idea and all I got."

"I can't slash his tires," he says in a defeated voice.

"Can't, or won't?"

"Ares," he says, and I can hear his scowl. "I need you to go to Allison's after work today," he adds.

I cock my head to the side, sure I misheard him. "Uh, what now?"

"She left her necklace at home and I don't have time after school to go with her. So I said you were the one who wanted to look at it again and that you'd see her after school."

Of course he did. "Did you forget that, according to Stiles, the Argents think I'm the werewolf out of the two of us?"

"You'll be fine, Ares. It won't take you more than ten minutes. Just take some picture of it."

"And what if there isn't anything about it that leads to the alpha?" He goes quiet, and I huff, mind already sorting through options should my adventure at the Argents fail. "What about the number that texted us?"

"What about it?"

"Well, Silverman said they tracked it, but wouldn't tell me anything about. Maybe Stiles can find it again and we'll figure out something the deputies didn't."

"That's… not a bad idea."

"I know, I came up with it."

He huffs. "Alright, I have to go. I'll see you at the game."

He hangs up before I can say my goodbye, and I stare down at my phone before shaking my head. That boy. At least we got over Monday. I sigh, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. The universe. Why does it hate me so?

I turn to return back inside to waste the rest of my lunch playing on my phone inside when an all too familiar black car pulls into the lot. I consider, briefly, running inside, telling Deaton I'm hiding in the back with Tiny Feline, and letting him deal with the situation. Because apparently I'm a weaker woman than I thought. But I dismiss the idea almost as soon as I get it, and instead stand awkwardly, nervously, on the sidewalk as Derek turns off the Camaro. He takes a second longer than he should to get out, and when he finally does, he stands by his door for a moment. Awkwardly. Nervous.

And I guess I'm not the only one maybe considering making a run for it.

"Hey," I call out, and hate the faint crack in my voice. I clear my throat and try again. "Hey."

His posture loosens, his expression lightening a bit. "Hey," he repeats, and I absolutely do not twiddle my thumbs as he makes his way up to me after shutting the car door. He stops in front of me, further than he would have before, and isn't even on the sidewalk.

"You just… in the neighborhood?" I ask, and he shrugs, hands shoved in his pockets. "Cool." We stand in silence, and my mind races. What do I say? Hey, sorry I dropped that on you last night, let's be bros and act like it never happened? Or, hey, why the hell didn't you stop me last night? Or maybe just start with what Scott's having me do later-

"I'm sorry,"

"I'm going to the Argents' after work."

We speak in unison, our words overlapping, and it takes all of a millisecond to detangle and realize what we said.

"Absolutely not you're going to the Argents," he cuts in before I can say something about his sorry, and I draw back at his sharp tone. He seems to realize that maybe that isn't the best way to speak to a person, and tries again. "Why?"

"Allison left her pendant at home, and Scott doesn't have time to go with her." I shrug. "He told her I wanted to look at it so into the hunter's den I go, I guess." I pause, remembering Stiles' words only five days ago, when Kate fucked up my car. How they probably think I'm a werewolf too. "I'm gonna die."

"You're not going to die because you're not going," Derek says, stepping up on the sidewalk.

"I have to! It's not like you can waltz in and take a look at the thing." I hesitate, consider telling him what Stiles thought. "Would they… would they think I'm the second beta just because I hang out with you?" I ask, picking at the hem of my sweatshirt, not looking up at him. "Because, I really don't wanna walk in to just get shot in the face. I'm tired of getting my face messed up," I add lightly, but it's lost on him.

His expression is conflicted, and finally he says, "A werewolf would have healed already. They'll know you're human." This doesn't necessarily mean they won't hurt me. He knows it as well as I do. But it needs to get done, and if no one else can, then we might as well throw me to the wolve-wolf hunters?

We lapse into a silence, not quite awkward. I know for a fact I have most of my lunch break left, and Derek might have an idea of this from our meal yesterday. Probably why he showed up now.

"So," I start, rocking back on my heels. He arches a brow at the movement. "Last night."

He nods. "Last night."

"You said you liked me."

"You said it first."

"I was drunk."

The words would have hurt anyone else. But not Derek, because he's an asshole werewolf, and asshole werewolves come with asshole werewolf powers. The corners of his lips tug out. "You weren't lying though."

"No. No, I wasn't lying." I pause. "I also said I was ace." The words come out slowly, carefully, and I watch his face closely for a reaction. There's no annoyance, no disgust or anger. No downward pull of his lips to signal a negative outcome. His eyes stay clear, his expression open, though his brows go up just a bit.

"Yes, you did."

"And?" I ask anxiously, tugging at the bottom of my sweatshirt.

"And," he starts, drawing in a breath and raising his shoulders in the beginning of a shrug. "I think already knew that."

That. I wasn't quite expecting that.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He huffs, running a hand through his hair and looking away. "This is going to sound weird," he mutters to himself. "Werewolves can pick up the chemical changes in people. Scents change, and different scents mean different things."

"So how you and Scott know I'm repressing shit?" He nods. "Huh. That's cool." I look up at him, cocking my head to the side. "How does that-"

"Arousal." My mouth snaps shut. "We can smell arousal."

"Oh."

"And you've never been aroused-"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," I say, holding up a hand to stop him. He doesn't even try to hold back his smile at how he got me flustered. "Derek Hale, that doesn't mean anything. Maybe you're just not my type," I say pointedly, and he actually scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I considered that. As unrealistic as it sounds," he adds with a grin, and it's my turn to roll my eyes. Shallow asshole. "I actually had to go walk around the mall to make sure I still had it-"

"Oh my god." I throw my head back. "You're the worst."

"I'm kidding. I went to a bar."

"Derek Hale, I'm leaving."

He catches my hand before I can, and struggles to hold back his laughter. "I'm kidding."

"So, you knew?"

"I figured," he allowed. "I just… didn't really know what it was until you told me."

I look down at our hands. "And… it doesn't bother you?"

"Ares-"

"Because it's fine if it does," I say in a rush. "I mean, it sucks, and I'm not looking to get invested in something that just gonna explode into nothing, but it's normal for you to not want me-"

"I want to be with you, Ares," he says, cutting me off and taking a step forward. I suck in a breath, having not been prepared, and hold said breath as he goes on. "You, you impossible human. You chase after werewolves and you care and love and Jesus, you're the only one that makes me feel…" He trails off, struggling for words. "Ares, you make me feel." The breath rushes out, and there's a familiar burning lump in my throat as my vision blurs, because Jesus Christ. Derek Hale. Really knows how to make a girl feel special.

"Oh," is all I can croak out. "You're a fucking asshole," I say, letting out a watery laugh, and a smile plays at his lips. "Making me cry."

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all.

"So, you're okay with it?" I ask again, just to be sure. Because pretty words are great, but… Elliot was good with pretty words in the beginning. Derek nods patiently before smirking.

"I can take care of myself."

I crinkle my nose. "And, I'm not, like, completely, you know. Sex repulsed," I say in a rush, and he quirks a brow in interest. "It just… takes some working up to. We can talk about it later," I add quickly-because time and place, Ares, come on-and he huffs out a laugh.

"Sure." He pauses. Opens his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by the front door of the clinic being thrown open.

"Ares, are you-oh." Dr. Deaton stops at the sight of us, and Derek lets out a frustrated breath.

"Dr. Deaton!" I say in default brightness, stepping back from Derek, because while it is my lunch break, this probably wasn't the best place we could have had this conversation. "Hey, hi, what's up?"

He gives us a once over, and seems to have something to say about how our hands are still intertwined, but decides against. "Sorry to interupt your break, Ares, but Mr. Davis just called. His Pom has been sick, and he's bringing it in. I need help preparing the examination room."

"Oh." I glance up at Derek, then back at the doc. "Yeah, I'll be there in a sec." He nods and retreats back into the clinic. Derek groans, and before I realize what he's doing, drops his head on my shoulder. I hold back a laugh and reach up a hand to pat the back of his head.

"There, there, lobito, we can talk later," I assure him, and he huffs, picking his head back up. "When I'm done with the Argents."

"I'd rather you didn't go," he mutters.

"I'd rather I didn't go either, but whatever, am I right?"

He scowls. "Be careful."

I crinkle my nose at him. "I'm always careful."

He arches a brow. "Really?"

"At the very least I always get back up, and that's all that matters." I nod back at the door. "I… better go help him. Mr. Davis is obsessive when it comes to his dog."

Derek sighs. "Alright." He steps back, ready to turn to leave. Before he does, though, he seems to be hit with a split second idea, and turns back to me. I feel my face flare red as he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, because goddammit Derek Hale. He pulls back, and grins. "I'll see you later," he says, and this time does turn back to his car.

"I hate you!" I call after him, and we both hear the lie.

Fucking werewolves.

Happy New Year! Happy chapter end! Super huge thanks to those who left reviews - I always really appreciate hearing what you guys think. Also, shout out to new fav/followers! And my people who have been here forever!

So, a heads up. Didn't write nearly as much as I wanted to over the break, so I don't have my chapter back up. I only have two chapters after this, and the second is kinda intense and I need to know what's going on after, so I probably won't update next week until I write again. But no worries, I will be back!

Okay, Ares and Asexuality. Ares being asexual. (Keeping in mind that it's a spectrum and I'm pulling from what I know and feel and wish I saw represented in characters) Ares, as she said, isn't sexually attracted to people. She doesn't look at Derek and is like, I want to have sex with that man. It isn't that she just doesn't like sex or had a bad experience. She is not sexually attracted to him. No arousal when looking at him. No arousal when looking at anyone. She says she isn't entirely sex repulsed, but it takes some working up to. (Keep in mind, some asexuals do have sex, and that does not take away from their asexuality.) (We'll learn later that she's more sex repulsed than she realizes, but she's more comfortable with Derek and feels safe telling him these things (and gives all the more reason to hate Elliot later)).

But Ares is a romantic asexual, so she still feels romantic attraction. She still Like likes, as she puts it. Has crushes. She still wants a romantic relationship. She wants a relationship, and is completely capable of having one with kisses and cuddles and shitty movie marathons. There's just… no sex. All Netflix. No chill.

(the following links are stylized like that so they don't disappear and if they do I'm sorry, let me know and I'll figure out how to make them stay)

I don't know if I'm doing a good job at explaining this. This is just my perspective, and there's a whole bunch of other perspectives out there. There are blogs and posts on tumblr that talk about it, such as this post: blazinaces. tumblr post/169397328363/the-true-definition-of-asexuality

You can also check out the AVEN (Asexual Visability and Education Network) website at asexuality. org

The subreddit r/asexuality is a thing too where aces discuss and talk about their experiences (and I personally haven't run into troubles with it, but it is reddit sooo YRMV) so you can get their perspective on things. reddit r/asexuality/

There's also a fantastic book called The Invisible Orientation by Julie Decker. I literally cannot recommend it enough. She's an aromantic asexual, and she does a really great job explaining what's up with the ace spectrum and different orientations and literally it's just fantastic. There's a limited preview of it on google books.

A more academic point of view is Anthony Bogaert. He pretty much put asexuality on the map for academics with a paper he wrote in 2004. He has a book called Understanding Asexuality.

I'm sure there's other sources out there (these are the ones I know off the top of my head and a few I used for a paper last semester). But if anyone is interested, feel free to send a message, and I can hunt down more sources. This is probably overkill with sources, but hey. The more you know!

And since this A/N is already a monster, i'm gonna use this time to self promote and remind y'all that the tumblr exists and I'm at thegalanerd . tumblr . com so pls come and send me memes and if I remember I'll post progress reports on how writing is going.

OKAY THAT'S IT IM DONE

Catch ya on the flip flop!

Translations

Ya levantate, niña soflamera - Get up melodramatic girl
Huevona! - Lazy, but with more negative connotations
Quieres café? - Do you want coffee
"Con dinero y sin dinero- With money and without money - From the song El Rey. Vicente Fernandez covered it and that's the one I few listening too. Perfect drinking song /s
Soy el Chapulín Colorado. - I'm the Red Grasshopper. He's a Mexican superhero character played by the late great Chespirito, known for both El Chapulín Colorado and El Chavo de Ocho, among other things. It's great. I love it.