Alright, update time again. I'm completely exhausted from work and getting sick, BUT I didn't forget about you guys. Sorry, it took so long; some things got out of hand, and I couldn't really focus on the story. But, I am (partially) good now and the universe has become balanced in my life; well, for the time being. I know I kinda left you with a cliffhanger in the last chapter and kind of hinted some mysterious shizz about Michael but it'll make sense later on, trust me. Really hope you guys like this chapter. It's a bit longer, actually a whole lot longer, than the others because of the date scene and some other fun stuff. Nothing serious yet, but there will be (and hopefully soon, really excited). Also, super happy that I got some more followers and faves for the story. You guys are too kind, love you so much.

And I promise I won't take over like 3 months for me to post unless something serious happens.

As stated before, I do NOT own Teen Wolf, sadly, only the idea of this story and OCs are mine. And again, thanks for those who read the last chapter and are staying onboard this crazy boat I call a story; for those of you who just began reading the story, welcome! Hope you like it so far. Also, this chapter is broken into two parts.

This story has malexmale relationships. Don't like or just not your thing, don't read cause I don't want to have to read your negative comments. Simple as that.

Chapter 4

When Stiles woke back up from his nap, he noticed it was already dark out. However, he didn't move an inch because he felt so comfortable and warm and began dozing off again. 'So warm, don't want to move. Wait, I have to get up. Have to make dinner for dad and take Michael home.' He groaned and tried to get up but realized something was wrapped across his chest. Stiles looked and noticed it was Michael's arm wrapped loosely around him. He chuckled and gently shook Michael to wake him from his slumber.

"Michael, wake up. I gotta get up and make dinner then drive you home." he said, successfully maneuvering out of Michael's loose hold on him. In response to his statement, Michael groaned and turned over to continue sleeping. "Come on, get up; I have to make dinner."

Michael opened eye and turned over to look at Stiles for a minute before sitting up reluctantly. "Alright, alright. I'm up." he groaned, taking his phone out and looking at the time. '8:55...I should probably call them, let them know I'm alright.' he thought as sat up completely. "Hey, is it cool if I call my guardian? Let him know I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah. That's cool, I'm gonna head to the kitchen and whip something up for dinner. Dad should be coming home soon." Stiles replied, walking into the kitchen and rummaging through what was in the fridge to cook a delicious yet healthy meal for his dad.

"Thanks, I'll be right back." Michael said as he opened the front door and went out on the porch.

~On the porch~

Michael pressed and held the number 1 on his phone. He waited for the person on the other line to pick up and listened to the soft buzzing. After a minute, there was a slight crackle notifying that said person had answered. "Hey, just wanted to call and tell you that I-"

"Silence, Michael." A velvety smooth voice suppressing dark intentions interrupted, slight irritation and anger hidden beneath words. "I give no concern of how you fair. You were supposed to report back 3 hours ago."

"I know. I was...preoccupied with other matters." Michael replied, trying to lessen the lashing he knew was coming. "But, it was a good reason why I didn't check back in with you."

There was small chuckle at the end of the line. "Really, you have a good reason? You know what happened to the last person who said that, don't you." The voice started to get a sinister edge to it, and it sent chills down Michael's spine. "Michael, you should know better than to waste my time with your trivial ambitions."

"I-I'm sorry, Silas. It won't happen again. I'll report to you when I get back." Michael complied, his fist clenching and unclenching unbeknownst to him.

"Good boy, now go back to whatever you were doing. And I expect your report on the subject in the morning. If I don't get it, don't bother coming back." The call ended, leaving Michael alone with the constant beeping of disconnect going off.

Michael cooled down a bit before going back inside and into the kitchen. He had only been outside for a couple of minutes but he was glad to be greeted by warmth and the smell of pasta. "You need any help, Stiles." he asked, seeing stirring what sounded like noodles in a pot.

Stiles glanced over his shoulder to look at Michael and smiled. "Um, no. I'm good, well, actually could you get the plates down from the cabinet."

As Michael got the plates down, the front door opened and Sheriff Stilinski walked in. He began to take his shoes off when he noticed two pairs of shoes: one pair lazily discarded and the other neatly lined up against the edge of the wall. The sheriff noticed a light in the kitchen and slowly approached the opening, retrieving his gun from its holster.

"Stiles?" he called, checking to see if his son was in the kitchen. "You in there, kiddo?"

"Yeah, I was making dinner. Come in, I want you to meet a friend." Stiles called back.

Sheriff Stilinski relaxed a little bit and put his gun back into its holster, but made sure it was within reach. He walked into the kitchen and the smell of pasta filled his nose. He inhaled deeply then looked at his son. After his brief moment of happiness, the Sheriff noticed Michael at the table and took a seat across from him.

"So, you're Stiles' new friend, huh? I'm Sheriff Stilinksi, his dad." He said, extending his arm out to shake Michael's hand. Michael firmly grabbed the hand offered to him and shook it.

"Hello, sir. Michael Corbin, it's a pleasure to meet you." Michael said with the utmost respect in his voice toward the man shaking his hand, carefully eyeing the gun in his holster. 'I'll have to be cautious of him in the future, hopefully he won't be a problem.' He thought as his hand was released and both men sat back down.

Sheriff Stilinski eyed Michael for a moment or two as they waited for Stiles to finish cooking. 'He doesn't seem to pose a threat and Stiles seems to like him. I better do little questioning just to make sure and maybe do a background check if anything sounds suspicious.' "So, Michael, I haven't seen you around Beacon Hills before…" He started, leaving the statement hanging to see if he could find out where the boy came from.

Michael expected the question to come up sooner or later and answered calmly. "That's because my brothers and I just moved here about a week or so ago from Scandinavia. I just started school this week, sir." He smiled as he finished the reply, and it's not like he was entirely deceiving the man: what he had told him was all true.

'Scandinavia, huh? That's a pretty long way.' the sheriff thought to himself and made a mental note of that. "Brothers, as in more than one? How many and how old are they?" he asked calmly yet quite shocked that the boy said him and his brothers moved here instead of him and his family. "Where are your parents?"

Michael looked as if pondering how many brothers he had and he could sense that the sheriff was genuinely curious and concerned about him, or at the very least the whereabouts of his parents. "Well, sir, I have three brothers: Silas, Lucas and Gabriel. Silas is 25, Lucas is 22 and Gabriel is 14. Silas and Lucas are the ones taking care of Gabe and I." He looked Sheriff Stilinski square in the eye and the tension that built up was thick enough to be cut with a knife. "And as for my parents, we're not sure where they are anymore. They disappeared."

Before the sheriff could press harder onto the subject, Stiles came to the table with a big bowl of salad in one hand and two sodas in the other. "Dad, you better not be pestering Michael with your interrogation habits." He went set the bowl in the center of the table and one soda in front of his dad and the other in front of Michael. "Sorry about my dad, he's harmless though honest. It's just that overprotective side kicking in." Stiles said to Michael who looked amused at Stiles' way of easing the tense vibe he was feeling between him and his father. He looked at his dad with a stop-bugging-him-NOW-or-else look before he went back to the counter to get the spaghetti he made and a soda for himself.

When he returned to the table, it appeared that the two were making nice: they were talking about cars or something. Stiles set the main dish down on the table and sat between his father and Michael, casually listening to the friendly conversation and unknowingly zoning out. He was startled when Sheriff Stilinski let out a mighty laugh and playfully slapped the table then looked at him. "What, what happened?" He asked as he heard Michael laughing too.

"You have found a good friend, Stiles. Not only is he smart, he's funny too." The sheriff said, wiping a tear from his eye and patting his son on the shoulder.

Michael calmed down a bit from the laughing fit enough to be able to say, "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the compliment."

Stiles was partially shocked that his dad and Michael were on good terms so quickly but he was happy that the tense atmosphere had completely disappeared. "Okay, so now that you guys have had your laugh, how about we dig in? I didn't spend like ten minutes preparing this for nothing." He joked and started to fix his plate.

~1 hour and 30 minutes later~

All of the spaghetti and majority of the salad had been eaten. Papa Stilinski had retired for the night early since he had to get up at 7am to go into the office and check out some missing person(s) reports before the Chief Inspector came by the station. So, it was just Michael and Stiles up. Well, they did have their little watcher who had returned to check whether Michael had left, which he hadn't. Stiles and Michael were back on the couch in their previous position and were watching Seeking a Friend for the End of the World; Michael combing his fingers through Stiles' short hair.

'That feels nice.' He thought as he continued to watch the movie, the slight rubbing of his scalp practically lulling him to sleep. "Hey, it's getting late Mikey. Want me to drive you home?"

Michael mulled it over for a bit then figured he should be getting home to report to Silas so he didn't get lashed out at. Again. "Hmm. I guess I should be getting home. And, it's okay, Stiles." He got up and slowly moved out of the comfortable position so he could stand up. Michael stretched before checking the time. 'It's almost 11, shit. I better head out so I can do that report for Silas.' He thought as he went to the front door to get his shoes. "I live like a mile or so away. I'll just run home. Besides after that delicious meal you prepared, I kinda need the exercise."

Stiles followed him to the door and laughed at his comment. "Thanks for the praise. Are you sure you don't want me to drive you home? I mean it's no trouble at all." He said trying to convince his friend not to walk home in the dark, I mean who knows what could happen to him.

"Stiles, really, it's fine. There's nothing to worry about. I'm sure I'll be fine." Michael reassuringly, he looked at Stiles and smiled at the concern he was showing him. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, okay?" He walked to the door and opened it.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Mikey." Stiles said as he watched Michael leave the house and start jogging down the street. He sighed then closed and locked the door before going back into the living room to turn off the TV. He walked up the stairs and went to his room to sleep, oblivious to the black Camaro that left his yard not two minutes after he started walking up the stairs.

It had been awhile since Michael had begun jogging through Beacon Hills and he had the eerie feeling that he was being followed. At first, he just assumed that he was imagining things. He stopped to take a quick break to catch his breath and to check to see if his suspicions were right. Michael did not see anything suspicious and so he began to jog again. Once he got further away and into the more heavily wooded country side, Michael was sure he was being followed as soon as he heard the soft purr of an engine a couple miles away from him. He assumed it was some fool possibly trying to mug him or was completely lost, either way he had to deal with it. He turned around to meet his 'shadow' only to see a black Camaro approaching.

Derek had been following Michael for a good hour or so and was starting to worry on where the hell he was going. As they approached the much more densely forested outskirts of Beacon Hills, he noticed Michael had begun to slow down up the road until he stopped completely. Then Michael did something Derek never would have thought, he turned around to look dead at him. He hadn't seemed to notice he was the one following him but when he did, Derek could have sworn that he saw a smile plaster the kid's face before he took off running into the woods. 'That cocky bastard, did he just smile at me?!' Derek thought, enraged that Michael had the audacity to do that. 'He's gonna regret doing that when I get my hands on him.' He got out of his car and swiftly locked it before chasing after Michael.

Derek chased Michael down but did not pounce; he kept a good distance between him and his prey for two reasons: (1) he wanted to make sure Michael knew he wasn't getting away and (2) he was unfamiliar with the terrain. Then, all of a sudden, Michael's figure disappeared which caused Derek to stop dead in his tracks. He scanned the area for the slightest movement among the brush or intake of breath or a sliver of a heartbeat, but he got nothing. 'Fuck!' Derek mentally exclaimed, punching a nearby tree. 'How the hell did he just vanish like that?' He turned to walk back to his car; Derek didn't even walk two feet before he was grabbed by the back of his jacket collar and chucked further into the woods. Derek managed to land on his feet and looked back up to face his assailant but all he was able to catch a glimpse of was a pair of bright grey eyes before they dissipated into the darkness.

Frustrated that he had lost Michael and was thrown further into the forest, Derek let out a snarl and proceeded back to the Camaro. When he finally arrived back to the car, he got in and sped back to Beacon Hills. It took about 45 minutes for Derek to get back to the Hale House while avoiding any patrol cars. As he approached the front porch of the house, he saw that Isaac was sitting on the top step. Derek walked over to Isaac and they walked into the house.

Somewhere out in the countryside

Michael approached the small house with caution, knowing full well if he even made one mistake, Silas would wake up. When he was at the front door and reached for the spare key hidden inbetween two of the floor boards, Michael saw the living room spark to life with light from what he assumed was the lamp nearest to the door. He cursed hastily under his breath, fearing that Silas had actually been waiting for him to come back. He heard the door open and braced himself to be scolded or hit but it never came. Michael looked up to see that it was Lucas who was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a look of concern on his face.

"Where have you been, it shouldn't have taken you so long to get here?" Lucas asks, turning on heel to walk back into the living room and let Michael come in and close the door behind him. He sat on the loveseat and patted next to him, signaling Michael to sit there. Michael obliged without complaint and they sat there in awkward silence. Well, awkward for Michael.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Luke. I ran into some...trouble. Don't worry, I took care of it." Michael said softly, he hated making Lucas worry about him. "Why aren't you asleep, it's not good for you to be up so late?" He inquired after a brief pause to see if Lucas would press on his previous statement.

"I could ask you the same, and it's alright. I'm not mad at you, just worried that something had happened to you." Lucas says, hugging Michael and ruffling his hair. "Anyways, I'm not the one you should be concerned about. Silas is really upset with you for reporting back on time." Lucas looks at Michael when he feels him tense up.

"Is he..." Michael started but was cut off but by Lucas shhhh-ing him. They waited for awhile before Lucas began talking again.

"Relax, I was able to stifle his anger. But, please, just text me the next time you're going to be late so this doesn't happen again." Lucas chuckled and felt the mood lighten up a bit. "You know he's only hard on you and Gabriel cause he wants what's best for you guys. And because he knows we can't make you stay, we won't actually." Lucas let go of Michael and stood up.

"I know, Luke. I am sorry, really. And I'll finish the report right away and put it in the office then go to bed." Michael said, getting up and walking to his room before wishing his brother a good night's sleep.

Well, that's all for chapter 4, part 1 anyways. Hope you enjoyed it and review. Sorry, I left you with a partial cliffhanger. But, don't worry; you'll get some of those questions I know you're holding in answered. Seeing people give good reviews on my story makes me really happy so I'm trying super hard with the writing. Been kinda slacking cause i started like three other stories, not sure if that number is correct it might be more.

Anywho, I know Derek seems like a total twat but it's only because he's jealous and possessive of Stiles (you'll understand more in part 2). And those of you who like Stiles living independently and don't want him to go back to Derek (cause he clearly doesn't deserve it), don't worry; Stiles isn't going to give in to Derek. And those of you who want Stiles and Derek to get back together, tell me. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

HOWEVER, I can't say who Stiles is going to end up with in the end, hell I don't even know. Seriously, I have no idea. I might have a poll and let you guys decide. Dunno yet, but I'm sure it'll work itself out. Aish, wish me luck you guys.

Annyeong-hee gyeseyo, saranghae! (Goodbye and Love you in Korean). See you next time I post, which won't be as long as months on end, promise.