"You're disgustingly chipper this morning. Am I paying you too much?" Brynn seemed to teleport in from nowhere, causing Stiles to jump spastically.
"No, Brynn…and I think I'm going to ask Human Resources to make you wear a bell," he snarked back.
"They won't listen. Their motto is "you can't spell 'Who Cares' without HR.' So what's with the goofy grin?"
"Nothing! Er, well…I met somebody and…well I think he's sort of out of my league, but he acts like he's crazy about me. I'm not used to that sort of attention. He wants me to go away with him this weekend…and he probably expects, you know, things to happen."
"Oh, sorry, I lost interest about five seconds into that." She peered at his computer screen. "What the hell is that?"
"That's my first article, it's just about done. I decided to serialize what it's like for a small town guy to date in the big city."
"Well, at least you realize your readers will be made up of idiots. I'll ok this, but I want a photo so the readers have something to look at. Report to Lana's studio immediately so she could snap you. She knows what I like, so do whatever she says. Begone."
{}{}{}{}
Stiles had never been so embarrassed in his whole life. He stood in front of a farm backdrop wearing faded overalls with one strap deliberately left hanging down exposing a nip, a straw hat on his head and a pitchfork in one hand.
"Is this really necessary? I said I was from a small town, not 'Green Acres'. I look like a hillbilly!" He shuffled his bare feet through the fake hay Lana had scattered on the floor.
Lana was a curvaceous brunette in a form-fitting dress. Stiles was amazed it didn't split whenever she moved. She was in her mid-30's and fighting it every step of the way with suggestive clothing and make-up.
"Something's missing…" She walked away and came back with a wheat stem which she stuck in his mouth. "Let it dangle, yeah just like that. Now try to look like someone just tried to explain the theory of relativity to you…like your usual expression, but dumber. Great!"
Lana snapped off a few dozen photos.
{}{}{}{}
Stiles walked into his apartment and left the lights off, just sitting there in the dark. His article and photo were published online that evening and would appear in paper tomorrow. What if Derek saw it? Now that Stiles thought about it, he didn't remember if he even mentioned what his job was to Derek. Stiles prayed he never, ever picked up the Urban Gazette.
His Mac beeped; Stiles had left Facebook open, and he saw that there were a few dozen messages on there. A sick feeling rising in his throat, Stiles went over to look. Dear Lord…
His father regularly updated his Facebook page, and only the day before had posted about how proud he was that Stiles was working as a journalist in NYC. Apparently all of his old friends began following the Sheriff and were regularly checking up on the Gazette's website to watch his progress. Of course, Jackson and Lydia had already seen the farm-boy photo (not to mention his musings on dating a guy out of his league) and sent him a few messages. There were some from his father, too. Stiles shut the monitor before a single one of those comments burned its way into his memory forever.
He had to get away from all of this.
{}{}{}{}
Derek opened the door almost before Stiles knocked.
"Hey, sunshine. What-" Derek looked surprised when Stiles barged into his apartment and flopped down on the nearest couch.
"When did you want to go upstate? I know it's only Thursday, but can we leave tonight?" Stiles tried not to sound desperate.
Derek's mouth opened and closed. "Um, yeah about that…"
Stiles' heart sank. "You changed your mind about bringing me…never mind, I understand. I thought this was a little surreal anyway. I'll see you around, and I'll keep my promise not to tell anyone."
Stiles got up and started walking towards the door. Derek slammed it shut and blocked it with his body.
"Stiles, I am not flaking out on you or breaking up with you. I still want to bring you upstate with me. It's just that my uncle and sister will be there on Saturday. It's going to be uncomfortable, and I didn't want you to feel weird or out of place. We have to do one of those bonding things I was telling you about. It shouldn't take long…but I also hadn't gotten around to telling them about you yet."
"Oh…do you…not want anyone to know about me?" Stiles was still embarrassed about his new notoriety, but it hurt a little to think Derek might want to keep him a secret.
"No, of course I do! It's just that…they don't exactly think I'm a good judge of character when it comes to sharing the family secret, so it might be a good idea if you…sort of…pretended…that you think I'm human." Derek's face turned almost as red as his wolf-eyes.
Stiles started to breathe easier. "Oh, no problem, I totally understand. But, didn't you tell me that you guys can tell when someone is lying?"
"Yeah, but I don't see them actually asking you if you know I'm a werewolf. I should be honest with you…my uncle lost his wife in that fire, and my sister lost her boyfriend along with the rest of our family. Since then, they have treated anyone I have ever dated like crap…I think they feel deep down that I deserve to be miserable and alone forever. Maybe not so deep down."
Stiles hesitated. His nerves were raw after today, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to give even more people, especially wolfy people, a shot at ripping him apart. With Derek's family, it could be literal.
"I don't know, Derek…I really just wanted to be alone with you. If you only knew what's been going on at my job…"
Derek looked like he wanted to kick himself. Then he brightened.
"Maybe we should leave tonight…we'll have Friday to ourselves, you could spend Saturday in town if you want and I'll come get you when they leave. Then we'll have Saturday night and Sunday to do whatever we want."
From the way his eyes smoldered, Derek had a few ideas about what they might want to so. Stiles felt things shifting around below the belt at the thought. He gave Derek a wicked grin.
"Let's leave now."
Derek grinned back at him. "You want to pack anything? Clothes?"
"Nah, don't think I'll be needing them."
Derek actually growled at that.
They left Manhattan behind, only stopping at a diner so they could pick up some food…to go. By nightfall, they were pulling up to a set of iron gates set in a high stone wall that surrounded a large piece of property. Derek hit a button on a remote device attached to the visor of his Camaro (and oh boy did Stiles love Derek's bad-boy car) and they watched the gate slowly open. They pulled through and it clanked shut behind them while Derek drove up the circular drive and screeched to a halt. He was out of the car and hauling Stiles out of the passenger seat in seconds, Stiles laughing out loud at Derek's eagerness. This is what it felt like to be desired, to be wanted completely…it was addicting in a way.
The house was huge, an old Victorian with multiple floors and dozens of windows, gables and ornate embellishments. Derek led Stiles around the back to the Olympic sized swimming pool with attached hot tub. Derek set the water to bubbling then pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. Stiles did the same, and they just stood there looking at each other for a few moments. Stiles reached for the buckle of his jeans when Derek (moving impossibly fast) stopped him gently with his hand.
"Please…let me." Derek knelt down in front of Stiles and slowly unbuckled the belt, gently unbuttoning his jeans in the same motion, keeping his eyes locked onto Stiles the whole time. The jeans fell down around Stiles' ankles, a cool breeze hitting parts of him not usually susceptible to their touch. Derek pulled off his sneakers and socks so that Stiles could step out of the jeans. All of the clothing was gathered and tossed over Derek's shoulder. It had long ceased being embarrassing to be bare in front of Derek, the worshipful look alone made it an ego boost.
Stiles pulled Derek to his feet and got on his knees to undress him, making sure that Derek knew the attraction was mutual. He was tempted to start things right then and there, but the anticipation was too delicious. He leaned his cheek against the rampant source of Derek's heat, inhaling the deeply personal scent with closed eyes (it was almost too beautiful to look at). Stiles teased Derek by breathing against him, promising more, so much more in the near future…but just not now. Derek groaned, and it seemed to come from his very soul.
"Stiles, please…"
But Stiles was enjoying being the master of this particular game, and he rose to his feet, waiting for Derek to make the slightest moan of disappointment before suddenly grasping him firmly. Derek jumped, trying to hump himself into Stiles' hand. Stiles cupped him with the other, gently cradling him as he stroked, feeling the smooth skin and coarse hair, wondering what it would be like to use his mouth instead of his hands, wondering what it would be like to taste Derek, to turn him inside out and swallow him down…
There was a growl, and Stiles was pushed backward onto the wet grass. Derek's eyes were glowing red, and his teeth and claws were out. Yesterday, this might have scared the shit out of Stiles, but he knew that this was just another part of Derek that desired him just as deeply.
"Not yet, Alpha…" Stiles met the crimson gaze steadily. The growl stopped, almost turned into a whine. He stood up again, walking over and running his hands over Derek's shifted face. The killer teeth vanished, and Derek stepped back with a shocked look on his face.
"Stiles…how did you…"
Then Stiles was kissing him, and leading him towards the bubbling hot tub.
"If I'm your mate...and I'm your wolf's mate too…then you both take care of me and treat me like I deserve to be treated. I promise I'll return the favor."
The confusion left Derek's face as he just decided to let Stiles run this part of the show.
"Stiles…I can't promise that the wolf will always listen to you…we're an Alpha, for fuck's sake."
"You're listening this time…besides, that's what makes it fun!"
Derek shrugged, still unsure of what to think about what just happened. The Alpha got in first, groaning in pleasure as the heat seemed to soak into his muscles. He helped Stiles in, then sat down and pulled Stiles to his chest. Derek gave him a slow massage, finding many knots in his tense muscles to slowly work loose with his hands. Now it was Stiles' turn to groan, enjoying Derek's ministrations as the strong hands moved lower and lower. Stiles turned around then, sitting on Derek's lap and locking his legs around the Alpha's hips. They kissed, and Derek was surprised at what seemed to be unleashed in a boy that claimed to have little to no experience with sex of any kind. Derek moved forward, keeping their position but now pressing Stiles back against the wall of the hot tub, pressing into him, trying to find a way inside…
"No…there's other things I want you to do first," Stiles whispered. He stood slowly and looked down at Derek still mostly submerged in the boiling water. Derek made to rise, but was distracted by a part of Stiles that just broke the surface. Derek seemed mesmerized at the sight and glanced up once at Stiles as if to ask permission. That low involuntary whine broke from his throat.
"Yeah…do it, Derek. You'll know when to stop. Um…watch the teeth, if you know what I mean."
Derek did as he was told with wild abandon. Stiles thought Derek was going to pull his sanity out of the length of flesh encased in Derek's mouth. The suction was rhythmic and powerful, and Stiles knew he wouldn't be able to stand long against it…not that he wanted to. When it finally happened, Stiles gave a shuddering cry as muscles he didn't know he had snapped taut and released. He staggered out of the hot tub dripping wet and fell into the cool grass before looking up into the sky and noticing the thousands of stars that were hidden from him in the city.
There was a growl from the hot tub, and the sound of wet feet…or perhaps paws…slapping against the tub before they padded softly into the grass.
Stiles got on all fours facing away from Derek, or whatever Derek had become.
"Do it, Derek…take what's yours, what I'm giving to you," the idea that what was about to happen could be very painful, and possibly lethal for some reason only made him more excited. "Do it…but get me ready first and b-be careful." The slight tremor in his voice did not go unnoticed by the beast. At last, some uncertainty in the surprisingly dominating human.
Stiles felt the hot tongue beginning to open him up, a tongue that felt larger than a human usually possessed. He gave himself over to the unbelievable sensation, burying his face in the cool grass and willing himself to open for any part of Derek the Alpha felt like shoving in there. Stiles reached over and pulled the weave belt from his jeans. For what was going to happen next, Stiles wanted Derek to feel like he was completely in control. He tossed the belt towards the Alpha without looking back, and with his face still in the grass he crossed his wrists behind his back. There was a growl of approval from the beast, and Stiles felt himself bound by long clever fingers that ended in sharp claws. The beast returned to Stiles' preparation, but in what felt like too soon a time, a fur covered body moved between his legs, the hair tickling the bare skin of his legs. Stiles was about to be owned in every way possible. He was terrified. He was impatient for Derek to begin.
The hair covered body leaned over him, fur covered arms caging him in. Words that struggled to emerge from an inhuman throat rumbled in his ear.
"It might be better for you if I started this as a human."
"No…do it the way you are…make me feel it, Derek. And no matter what you hear…"
Derek's length pressed against him and began to push inward. The stretching began.
"What?" the gruff voice spat, sounding impatient and even less human than before.
"Just…don't stop."
Another second of hesitation, and Stiles was screaming as he felt himself come truly alive for the first time in his entire life. It was brutal and mercifully quick, but he had never felt so wanted.
{}{}{}{}
Stiles blinked in what could not possibly be morning sunlight. Birds were singing, for crying out loud. Stiles stretched and shifted in the grass wet with morning dew. Derek lay nearby, human and naked and in a deep black sleep. Grumbling, Stiles sat up and yawned, his back crackling from sleeping on the ground. He was covered in dirt and yeah, other stuff. Derek was apparently equipped with a fire hose.
Stiles hissed as the soreness from last night hit him. Ah well, no one had ever promised him a rose garden. He walked over to one of the outdoor showers that surrounded the pool and hosed himself off. Derek had rolled over, giving Stiles a spectacular view of his backside, which he decided to enjoy from the hot tub. The warmth was heaven, and he relaxed into the jets that pounded into his sore muscles.
Derek woke up at the sound of the bubbling jets and glanced over at Stiles with a wide-eyed look. Stiles waved him over.
"Get in, silly. Mornings are cold, even in summer."
Derek dropped in beside him, but he was still looking a bit freaked out by Stiles.
"What's the matter, Derek?"
"Are you …okay?"
"Of course I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?"
"I never…I never let myself go like that with anyone before. Stiles you could have been hurt!"
"Derek, you didn't hurt me in any way that I didn't want to be hurt. I'm fine, no permanent damage, and if I ever decided to write erotica, I could turn last night into a best seller."
Stiles didn't want to have this kind of conversation the morning after mind blowing sex, so he just moved close to Derek and leaned his face on his chest. Derek took the hint and stopped asking silly questions, holding Stiles close to him as afraid he would disappear.
Now and then, Stiles would look up and place a soft kiss on the Alpha's lips before leaning his head down again and listening to the wonderful sound of Derek's heartbeat.
When they'd had enough of the hot tub, they showered together in the outdoor shower and dried each other off with some towels from the pool house. Stiles left his clothing behind as Derek gave him a tour of the house. At this point, Stiles was mainly interested in the kitchen, so Derek took the hint and made pancakes from one of those mixes where you only add water, along with some frozen orange juice.
"Sorry, didn't have a chance to get fresh groceries,"
"Arghjlklkeufihrf," Stiles told him around a mouthful of pancakes.
{}{}{}{}
Stiles got dessert in the afternoon when he decided to take Derek in his mouth while they were sunning themselves by the pool. There was something amazing about doing this outdoors in full sunlight, and Stiles marveled at how brazen he was becoming. He swallowed down everything Derek had to give (and he had a great deal to give), leaving Derek too drained to resist when Stiles rolled him over and did his best to 'prepare' Derek for what Stiles wanted. Derek didn't resist when Stiles pushed his way inside and slowly built himself up to a wrenching climax.
"Thought you might not let me do that," Stiles whispered in his ear afterward.
"I will never say 'no' to you. Do whatever you want, whenever you want…as long as I get to do the same."
"Will your wolf ever say 'no'?"
"If he were going to, the last forty minutes wouldn't have happened."
Derek sat up and looked Stiles in the eyes. "He's chosen you, Stiles. You're our mate. There won't be anyone else."
"So, what are we gay-werewolf-married?" Stiles asked, half-smiling.
"Sort of. You have to decide how you feel about it. We could go like this forever…or you could walk away at any time. I can't. It's you, or it's no one."
The half-smile faded away. "Derek, this is still so new…"
"Things are different for werewolves. We don't form bonds the way humans do, over time…it happens quick, or not at all. I didn't tell you this to put pressure on you. I just wanted to say…" Derek took a deep breath. "…that if you ever want to fully commit to me, forever, I would need to Turn you. It's not required, and if you never asked for it, that would be your choice…but if you want the Bite, it's yours."
Stiles could not speak. The possibility had never occurred to him.
"Don't give me an answer now," Derek looked like he was on the verge of panic. "Or six months from now, or never if you don't want to. I was just…throwing it out there."
"What about your family? What would they think?"
"I don't need them to turn you, I'm an Alpha. You would be an Alpha's mate, and stronger than them because of it. You'd be as strong as me."
"I don't know, Derek…"
There was a clanging sound from the front hall. Derek cursed.
"They're here, a day early, the bastards."
{}{}{}{}
They hurriedly took another outdoor shower. Stiles groaned when he picked up his t-shirt; it was covered with green grass stains. His shoes and socks were similarly wrecked. His jeans and boxers had somehow managed to stay clean, but his belt was stretched and useless.
"What should I wear, Derek? Your shirts won't fit me!"
"Go shirtless. Don't worry about it; they'll probably think I'm just using you for sex."
Derek ran to his room to grab some clothing which he hurriedly put on.
"Great. What should I do? Be friendly? Make myself scarce?"
"No, I want you near me. Let's just…try not to rub it in their faces that I'm happy. They like it better when I'm moody and miserable." Derek looked pretty miserable already.
"Not too happy…got it."
They were already parked in the driveway. Technically they should have waited to be invited in by their Alpha, but they liked to test their limits with him. The front door opened and a tall handsome thirtyish man walked in, followed by a morose looking young girl that Stiles guessed was in her early twenties. They sniffed the air and immediately focused with laser-like attention on Stiles. The girl especially seemed intensely interested in him.
"Uncle Peter, Cora, welcome. Hope you two are well." Derek had changed into a rather tight set of jeans and a grey t-shirt with patent leather shoes. Stiles was shirtless and barefoot, and the missing belt caused the jeans to ride low on his hips, exposing the waistband of his boxers. He felt even more ridiculous than when he posed for Lana in overalls. Deep inside him, he felt a pulse of anger at constantly feeling embarrassed around people, but he had only himself to blame; it was his idea not to bring extra clothes.
Peter looked at him with an infuriating smirk. "Hello, nephew. You have a new friend I see. Rather proud of himself, is he?"
Stiles reddened, from shame or anger he didn't know.
"He's more than a friend, uncle. And I thought we could have our meeting by the pool." Derek said with a glance at Stiles.
Cora spoke up. Stiles hated her voice the second he heard it. "Oh, he's a new toy. Well, he seems harmless enough, not that you were ever a good judge. Don't leave him unattended like the last one, brother. I'd hate to have to put him away for you."
Cora suddenly barged past them, shoving Derek and actually body-checking Stiles who fell backward over the couch.
"Can't fucking keep it in his pants for one goddamned weekend," she muttered as she stormed down the hallway.
Derek helped Stiles to his feet. Derek looked furious and miserable at the same time, which was quite a trick requiring impossible contortions of various facial muscles.
"I'm so sorry," mouthed Derek silently.
Stiles didn't trust himself to speak, giving just a short jerk of his head to let Derek know he was alright.
Peter approached then, and Stiles tensed himself for another body-check. Peter gave him one, but with his eyes instead of his shoulder.
"Fascinating specimen, Derek. I approve. He definitely looks…agreeable. Maybe I'll borrow him later…" Peter's eyes suddenly shot blue fire. "…if you're not too attached to him, that is." The amused look returned, and Peter walked by and only groped Stiles for a few seconds in passing. Stiles swatted his hand away, and Peter's throaty laugh echoed back as he went down the hall to his room. Derek was hiding his face in his hands.
{}{}{}{}
Derek fired up the barbeque and tossed on about a dozen burgers and hot dogs from the meat freezer in the basement. In a show of solidarity, Derek had changed into a bathing suit and turned Stiles' jeans into cut-offs with a pair of scissors and replaced the missing belt. Cora was wearing a revealing bikini, only slightly smaller than Peter's Speedo that Stiles wondered why he bothered wearing.
They were both very attractive, and would have been more so if Cora would stop scowling and Peter would stop leering. Stiles pondered a life where he would have to put up with these two forever, and his mind promptly shut down at the thought. He wanted to look at Derek and that perfect chiseled body, but staring might give away Stiles' feelings to them which he flatly refused to do. He settled for relaxing on an inflatable raft with dark sunglasses on, away from Peter's eager hands. The uncle was talking earnestly to his nephew in a low voice by the grill. Cora was on the diving board for another Olympic-worthy pin-point splash dive. Stiles ignored her until she swam past him in the water, almost shark-like in her silent predatory way. Then one of her claws punctured the raft. Accidentally, of course.
Stiles sighed as the water began to swallow him up. The men failed to notice him, and Stiles didn't want to draw any more embarrassing attention. He decided to leave the pool and the punctured raft behind for Cora to chew on if she felt like it.
A clawed hand pulled him underwater before he had time to scream. There was barely a ripple or splash. Stiles' last sight was Peter glancing over at him, and then back to Derek as if nothing was happening.
He disappeared beneath a red cloud in the water as blackness took him.
{}{}{}{}
In the dream, Derek was kissing him when Stiles coughed into his mouth. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't stop coughing. In fact, his lungs were on fire. The coughing became retching and choking, and Stiles heaved and spewed a gutful of chlorine-flavored water from his mouth.
"Stiles! Stiles are you alright?" Derek's voice was wracked with worry, his face white with terror.
Stiles coughed some more, trying to catch his breath through the searing pain in his chest. He couldn't speak, but he was able to look around for a few seconds with red, burning eyes. Peter stood nearby sporting five deep gashes across his chest. Cora was covered in bite and scratch marks, and her left arm appeared to be broken from the way she was clutching it to her chest. They both looked angry and sullen…and just a little bit guilty.
Derek gathered Stiles up in his arms and moved towards his homicidal relatives.
"Get the fuck out of my way," he growled at them. Even Stiles felt the Alpha command in his voice. They parted, and Stiles stared at them, his dark eyes meeting their glowing sapphire blue.
"Never saw him get like that before…" Cora whispered to Peter before Derek carried Stiles out of earshot.
Derek carried him up stairs, down hallways into a room almost at the very top of the house. It was enormous, with a huge four-poster bed. There was a large attached bathroom nearby. The door was ornate, beautifully carved wood on the inside, but the outside was heavy iron; not even a werewolf would be able to get through it.
"This was a safe room for the humans in the family on our bad nights."
Derek went to a small fridge built into the wall and took out some bottles of water which he put on the nightstand beside the bed. Then Derek went and got some bandages from the bathroom and wrapped them around Stiles' forearm, which Stiles only just noticed was bleeding. Cora must have sliced into him when she pulled him under. Derek sat on the edge of the bed, unable to look at Stiles.
"I'm…I'm sorry. I'll take you home if you want. I'll never bother you again, and I'll see that they leave you alone too."
Stiles still could not speak. He wasn't sure what he would say if he could. He struggled to get out of his wet cutoffs which were soaking into the sheets. Derek stood and tried to help him, but Stiles swatted him away. He didn't want to be touched just now.
Stiles finally freed himself from the cutoffs and boxers and hurled them across the room where they knocked a vase off a tiny table in front of a window. The vase shattered into a million pieces, and Stiles crawled under the blanket to a dry part of the mattress and closed his eyes. Derek stayed with him until he fell asleep.
{}{}{}{}
Stiles woke up in darkness, his throat on fire. He reached blindly for the light switch and managed to find it by pure luck. Derek was somewhere below with his homicidal freak relatives, probably. Stiles still felt wet and gross, so he took a hot shower and vowed that when he was done he was not going to be wet again anytime soon. He was done with showers, baths, hot tubs and swimming pools for a while. He dried himself vigorously with a clean towel and plopped into a chair, pondering the fact that he had almost died this evening.
His father told him that it was like this…you never knew when death was going to come for you. Every officer that went out on a call wondered somewhere in the back of their mind if this was it, the night their number came up. Stiles worried himself sick over his father, but never imagined that death might come for the younger Stilinski instead.
He didn't like these thoughts.
Stiles looked out the window which had a great view of the driveway. Only Derek's Camaro was there, and he tried not to sigh in relief.
He tried the door, and it opened readily, realizing it could only be locked from the inside…there was no keyhole on the outside of the door.
Derek was asleep on the floor outside the doorway. Stiles looked down at him, trying to figure out what he felt for the Alpha.
'He stayed outside…he didn't think he deserved to be in the room.'
The inner voice came from nowhere, but Stiles didn't doubt it for a moment. Derek didn't even allow himself a pillow to be comfortable.
"Derek," Stiles' voice was a raw whisper.
The Alpha snapped awake and was on his feet and looking at him with panicked eyes.
"What do you want me to do?" was all he asked.
A dozen answers went through his mind, not all of them nice. Then: "Come inside with me,"
Derek came in and shut the door behind him, locking it firmly. He sniffed the bed and wrinkled his nose, quickly walking over and stripping the damp chlorine-smelling sheets off and replacing them with clean ones from a bureau. The wet bedding was dropped down a laundry chute built into the wall that Stiles hadn't noticed. When the bed was remade, Stiles got back in, sighing with relief at the feeling of being dry. Derek waited by the bed, like a butler ready for his next orders.
Stiles rubbed the sheets. "Lay down with me. Please."
Derek's face just…broke. There was no other way to describe it. He looked so relieved that he wasn't going to be sent away that Stiles warmed up to him even more. He was reminded again of how much Derek cared for him, worshipped him almost. He had ripped apart his two remaining family members for Stiles.
'He should have killed them.' came that weird inner voice again.
Derek shucked his bathing suit and crawled into the bed. Stiles let Derek spoon into him, enjoying the raw heat that sprang from the Alpha's body. Against his will, he started smiling.
"Sty, I am so god damned sorry…"
"It wasn't your fault, Derek." Stiles noticed his voice was beginning to come back.
"It was, I let them near you, I turned my back on you, didn't see what Cora was up to…"
"Derek…drop it. You saved me; that's all that matters. You were there for me when I needed you."
Derek leaned his face into Stiles' back, even sniffling a few times. "I thought for sure you were done with me. I want to carve an apology into my own skin with my claws. I want to make it scar so you always know."
Stiles sighed. "I like your skin unscarred. It's enough. Don't you see this is what they wanted? Either I died, or I lived and wanted to get away from you. This was their revenge. Well you know what? They don't get to have it. I'm alive, and I'm still with you. We are going to be the most sickeningly happy couple in the world…and we are going to rub their faces in it but good."
Derek gave a small laugh. "Yes. Anything."
They talked some more and fell asleep again, far more deeply than when they were alone.
{}{}{}{}
They were alone together Saturday and Sunday, and spent the days holding hands and the nights curled into each other, but sexual intimacy was off the table for the time being. They fished on a boat at a nearby lake, they explored trails through the woods, and they went shopping in town and bought food to cook (and some extra clothing for Stiles to wear). They read books together in the library, and watched TV in the living room. Derek played the guitar, Stiles the piano. There were even a few songs they both knew, and playing them together was amazing experience for him.
All too soon the weekend came to an end. Despite almost being killed, the Alpha had taken up residence in a dusty, long-unused chamber of Stiles' heart. Stiles was falling in love with both the man and the wolf, and both seemed to be equally enamored of him. Derek drove them back to the city and they spent the trip in silence, though their fingers remained intertwined the whole way. It irked Stiles that Peter and Cora had spoiled what would have been an otherwise perfect weekend. He resolved that they would never get the jump on him again. He didn't know what it meant to have a Spark yet, but he would throw himself into researching it like he never had before with anything else in his life. If they came for him again, he would be ready for them.
{}{}{}{}
There was a pile of mail on his desk that Monday, as well as reams of printed comments from his article. New York City was in the throes of Stiles Madness. There were love letters galore from men and women alike, all promising to make his 'dating adventure' something he would never forget. His picture had been a smashing success, and people sent him their own...many of them were tasteful, some were scandalous, and a few were…really disturbing.
The advice column had to be put on hold; it was impossible to find genuine questions in the thousands of fan letters.
Dear Stiles; What is the easiest way to get into your pants?
Dear Stiles; I would give anything to carry your baby!
Dear Stiles; I live in a polyamorous relationship with six other people. How would you like to be number 8? Just IMAGINE the possibilities…
Stiles threw most of them out, making sure they went into the shredder rather than regular garbage.
Brynn pounced him just as he was leaving for lunch.
"Stilinski! Where do you think you're going?" She seemed almost nervous, as if worried Stiles might leave and never come back.
"Er, Panera Bread. Why, can I pick you up anything?" It was a few minutes early, but he was pretty hungry. He hoped Brynn wasn't going to rip him a new one.
She blinked at him for a few seconds as if he had spoken in Klingon.
"Let me take you to lunch, my treat. We have some things to talk about." She snatched her purse and dragged him to the elevators, giving death glares to anyone who tried to talk to them.
Brynn took him to Nobu, which was on the pricier end of things. Brynn didn't order anything, just sat and watched him glance through the menu while he tried to decide. He settled on Beef Teriyaki Donburi. It cost about 4 of his previous lunches combined.
"So, your article was pretty well-received," she began uncertainly.
"Really? Oh, good. I guess I'll continue it then, I have a lot more I want to write anyway."
"You do? Excellent. I guess you spent the weekend with your new man?"
Stiles nodded. Brynn suddenly got a knowing smile on her face. "I thought there was something a little different about you…"
Stiles blushed. "Don't judge me, I'm 26 for crying out loud. I held on to my V-card long enough."
Brynn snickered. "I'm not judging, honey. Far be it from me. In fact, I'd be very interested in meeting the man who finally broke down the Gates of Venus." She stared at him for a minute then. "You really don't know, do you?"
Stiles gazed at her blankly. "Know what?"
"Have you checked your Facebook page? Personal e-mail? Fucking Twitter?"
"Nope." Stiles hand reached for his cell phone, curious about what he would find in his social media accounts.
"Stiles, before you look…I may as well tell you. If you're going to leave, you'll leave. You're a sensation! My readership has quadrupled, the website keeps crashing because so many people are trying to find out more about you, and I've had other magazines…big ones…asking me frankly how much I'm paying you so that they could make you an offer of double or triple what you're making now."
Stiles took a few minutes to digest this. Then he shrugged. "I'm happy here. Besides, you took a chance on me when absolutely no one was hiring. I owe you. Maybe this is just 15 minutes of fame anyway. You really think my article was that good?"
Brynn took in his words, her eyes actually becoming moist. She reached in her bag and snatched out some tissues.
"Oh, sweetie…I thought it was puerile garbage when I read it, and part of me still thinks it is…but you really struck a chord with our readers. It was the article, it was your picture and your story…you've become that underdog that people see as a hero…the last unflinchingly honest and decent man in a corrupt and jaded world. People would watch you peel potatoes with baited breath. I've seen this phenomenon before, and I wish to God I knew how to trigger it…but you did it. Play your cards right, and you'll be able to write your own ticket. You mean it when you say you'll stay? You're not having me on?"
"I'm unflinchingly honest, remember?" Stiles sat back, bemused, thinking about the left handed praise Brynn gave him as well as this unexpected notoriety. This news should have excited him more, and probably would have a week ago, but his mind was still filled with thoughts of Derek…and of being nearly drowned by a crazy werewolf. This just didn't seem that important.
He scratched idly at the bandage on his forearm.
"What's that? God, tell me you're not shooting heroin!" Brynn practically shouted, drawing the eye of everyone in the restaurant.
"What? Are you insane? My dad would kill me! Derek has a…pet that didn't like me too much. It's nothing."
"Derek? Hmm…what do you say we have lunch together tomorrow…just the three of us? Again, my treat. I want to spin a few ideas I have to make some big bucks out of this. What do you say?"
"Er…gee, I don't know. Derek's kind of private. I mean, I'll ask him, but I'm sure he'll say 'no'."
'I will never say 'no' to you,' Derek's voice echoed in his head.
"I'll bump your salary up to $600 per week, just to get him here." Brynn looked desperate. "All the other magazines want the scoop on who managed to land you. Please, do this for me and if there is anything I can do for you in return, just name it! My magazine is on the verge of going from cheap rag to household name! I will never have this chance again! Promise me, just get him here!"
"Alright, I will!" Stiles looked down at his half-finished plate. Some foreboding had just killed his appetite. No good was going to come of this.
{}{}{}{}
Stiles spent the rest of the day working on his article and shredding even more fan mail. When he got home that evening, all he wanted to do was relax and veg in front of the television. Just as he got settled in to watch the latest Game of Thrones episode, his doorbell rang. He grumbled, and then brightened thinking it might be Derek. The Alpha said he would drop by later that night after he took care of some business…maybe he couldn't get enough of Stiles and rushed back early. How could Stiles reward him? He chuckled as a thought came to him. Stiles stripped down and put on just his cutoffs from the past weekend. He looked like the male equivalent of Daisy Duke in them, which should be enough to drive the Alpha wild.
The doorbell rang again, and Stiles smirked at the Alpha's impatience.
Adjusting his crotch for maximum effect, Stiles yanked open the door.
"Get in here and get on your knees!"
Lydia and Jackson stood there, stunned. They both looked him up and down in shock.
"Uh, sure…could I have a beer first?" asked Jackson. "I told you he'd be into it, Lydia."
"Fine, I was wrong, whatever." Lydia breezed in. Stiles watched as they began to pull off their clothes.
"What do you want to do first?" Lydia cooed in his ear.