Could have been a wolf that wanted you for himself. Derek's words were ringing in his head and Stiles' knees were weak. "Could we go for a coffee?" the man continued. He stepped closer when Stiles didn't answer and panicking, he flailed backwards.
"No. Nope. Absolutely not." The smile didn't falter. Instead the man tilted his head to the side slightly. As if he'd never considered a negative answer.
"But we have so much to discuss," he protested silkily.
"I'm t-taken." Stiles shoved Derek's keys into his pocket so he didn't do something really stupid like drop them. He'd never make it into the car anyways.
"I'm aware you are temporarily claimed Stiles." Stiles scowled. Temporarily. As if he needed the reminder.
"Then what do you want?" he snapped, tempted to cross his arms over his chest. There actually wasn't a reason not to because it wasn't like the werewolf in front of him couldn't hear his racing heart. He could probably smell fear too. He looked like he could smell fear at least.
"I already told you Stiles. Coffee. With you. It'll be my treat."
"I don't want coffee," Stiles muttered petulantly. He blanched when he was grasped firmly by the elbow. "I have to get back to my mate. R-Right now."
"Stiles please don't lie to me." Damn his heart.
"You're scaring me," Stiles admitted.
"If you don't make me angry you have nothing to worry about."
"If I don't make you angry," Stiles echoed weakly.
"Exactly, now come for coffee. There's a lovely shop just around the corner and we will be back in plenty of time."
"Okay," Stiles agreed slowly. "Do you need to hold on to me though?"
"I'd prefer it." Stiles resisted the urge to squeak as the man started walking, pulling him along.

Entering the coffee shop didn't make Stiles feel any better. Just because they were in public didn't mean he was safe. Shouldn't it have been obvious he was a hostage anyways? But at least the man had been honest; the coffee shop was very close. Stiles had made the decision not to out and out panic until the man tried to take him further from Derek. For now it was okay. It wasn't great but it was okay. He could breathe. His arm wasn't released until they chose a corner table, the man effortlessly balancing both saucers in one hand. Stiles pulled his feet up to the edge of the chair, wrapping his arms around his knees. After another moment he propped his chin between them, not caring how odd it looked.
"Now what do you want?"
"You aren't going to try your coffee? I think it's the best on this coast." He sounded offended but Stiles didn't move.
"I'm here, we're having coffee. Talk." Stiles left out the fact that he'd all but been kidnapped.
"I want you to leave with me," he said bluntly. Stiles felt his eyes widen.
"No way." There was no response and several awkward moments of silence passed. "You're creepy I don't even know you and he'd come after me anyways."
"And if I told you it would save his life?"

Stiles' heart thumped painfully.
"What did you just say?" The man lifted his mug and took a long sip of coffee rather than responding. "Did you just threaten my mate?" He was so angry, so suddenly, that it shocked him.
"People are staring Stiles." But he didn't care. He was all but seeing red. Had he ever been this angry before?
"No," he shook his head emphatically. "You're psycho."
"What I am is older and stronger. My blood line is pure. My pack is not one to be trifled with."
"You're threatening my pack?" Stiles exclaimed, only noticing the slip once it was out. "His pack," he corrected firmly, "his pack."
"I'll do whatever I need to. Are you smart enough to do the same?"
"This isn't happening," Stiles protested, mostly to himself. "Just supposed to go along with you? And what happens if he follows after me?"
"You'll convince him you want me instead. Or I'll kill him."
"What if I don't believe you?" The man shrugged and took another sip of coffee.
"I suppose we'll find out. If that's a risk you're willing to take." His body was starting to tremble.
"Why are you doing this?" Another smile and Stiles couldn't stop himself from shuddering.
"I won't explain myself to you. If you won't play nice then make a decision. Come with me or risk your mate's life."
"Please," Stiles tried, panic shooting through him.
"Yes or no." He took another sip of coffee, calm as could be. Stiles wanted to scream.
"I'll do what you want. Don't hurt him."

As if he really had a choice in the first place. The man smiled again but it was different this time. Broader. Stiles hesitated to use the word grin but…it could apply.
"Oh very good," he let out, "naïve to be sure but still I appreciate this course of action." Stiles frowned. "Please Stiles," he gestured to Stiles' untouched cup, "do try the coffee it's divine." Stiles dropped his legs slowly, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with it. He tried to remind himself that this made him no less vulnerable than he was before. It didn't work very well. His hand trembled slightly as he lifted the cup. Even though he took a small sip it burned all the way down and he felt ill. It was good coffee but that didn't make him feel any better. Where was Derek's weird wolfy sense now? He was actually in danger here! Or…well maybe he wasn't in danger so much but still this was not a great situation to be in. "There that wasn't so hard? We'll get along very well Stiles I assure you."
"Or maybe I'll kill you in your sleep," Stiles suggested.
"That will be entirely unnecessary, I assure you." He laughed then, eyes bright with it. "Though your pout is adorable." Stiles wiped the expression from his face immediately. The man laughed again. "I understand now," he allowed. "It had to be you."
"You're confusing as fuck." The man looked over his head so Stiles took another sip of coffee. It went down just a bit easier.
"Derek. Nice of you to join us." Stiles' head snapped around before he could stop it. His heart reacted painfully and it was almost ridiculous how much better he felt in that moment.
"Uncle Peter."
"Uncle Peter?" Stiles demanded, shifting back and closer to Derek. "Gross," he exhaled before his brain caught up with his mouth.

No one spoke for a stilted moment.
"Allow me to apologize Stiles I simply had to be sure that I was leaving my nephew in good hands. But in the future if someone approaches you as I have the appropriate reaction is to get to Derek…or wait for him to come for you."
"I don't want to know," Derek said stiffly, "we're leaving." He hauled Stiles up by the shoulder of his shirt without another word. Stiles stumbled out of his chair more than willingly, not even shooting a backward glance at Peter. They were pushing out the door when he spoke again, having followed after them.
"Come now Derek what am I supposed to tell your mother when she asks? That I didn't even meet the boy?"
"I don't care what you tell her," but there was a catch in his voice. Stiles' lips curved down. He caught Derek's arm and clung.
"Derek wait. Talk to him." Derek kept dragging him along instead.
"No I'm getting you out of here." Stiles dug both heels in, letting his body go to the sidewalk when Derek didn't stop. "Stiles!"
"Talk to him," Stiles repeated. "I am fine. He didn't hurt me. He's just…weird." Derek yanked him back up, Stiles fearing his shirt was going to rip for the first time.
"I don't want to talk to him," Derek protested softly. They both looked back to where Peter stood, maybe four feet away. His expression was mostly blank and Stiles thought he was trying to look meek. Innocent was probably impossible.
"I promise I'll leave you alone," he offered, "just give me something to go back with. Everyone misses you Derek."
"Don't lie to me."
"You can hear my heart."
"You know how to fake it."
"I'm not lying," he offered. Derek looked like he wanted to bolt. Stiles thought if he wasn't still standing between them he already would have.

"Let's go talk to him," Stiles offered eventually. "We'll do it together."
"Stiles…"
"I'm here." The for now went unspoken. "Come on," he gripped Derek's arm with his free hand and gave a tug, knowing they weren't going anywhere unless Derek allowed it. He did. Stiles let his hands drop away, surprised when Derek released his shoulder, catching one of his hands instead. "You're not wearing any shoes," Stiles noticed quietly.
"No," Derek agreed tonelessly.
"How did you know?"
"I knew you weren't in the building…I was worried when you didn't come back…your scent," he explained haltingly. Stiles let it go at that, wary of another argument.
"Thank you," he offered instead. Derek stared at him as if he was insane but didn't say anything. Peter was holding the door of the coffee shop open for them and Stiles didn't let Derek go, even when they returned to the table. He ended up in the chair between them, Derek's hand sandwiched between his in his lap. "So," Stiles murmured, unsure how to get the ball rolling.
"I wasn't thrilled at first Derek, hearing you'd chosen a mate. But seeing you together," he smiled softly, "I'm very happy for you."
"It's not permanent," Derek told him.
"No," his uncle agreed, lifting his coffee, "not yet," he let out before taking a sip.
"Not ever." At this Peter's eyebrow rose.
"Why ever not?"
"He has a family to return to."
"That hasn't stopped you," Peter said stiffly. Derek's hand tightened on Stiles' painfully. He couldn't help a quiet hum of protest.
"He didn't kill anyone."
"Neither did you," Stiles cut in. Peter's lips were slightly open, as if he'd been about to say the same thing.
"We're not discussing that."

Peter didn't argue and Stiles followed his lead. He was grateful when Derek's hand loosened.
"Fine but the fact remains you should keep him. The boy's clearly in love with you." Stiles, who'd already been mentally arguing against the phrasing keep him, felt his jaw drop open. Well thanks a lot you psychotic douche bag it's not like I didn't just figure that out or anything why don't you just go blabbing it to the whole god damned world? Had it even been five minutes since his revelation? Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn't okay. No one was saying anything and the racing of Stiles' heart was becoming painful. "Had you not exchanged pins yet?" Peter asked, smirking. Stiles was too tempted to reach for his coffee and toss it on him. He would have had the perfect opportunity as Peter leaned over conspiratorially. "You see back in the 50s-"
"Yes I got the reference," Stiles snapped, cheeks on fire. Peter sat back, still smirking.
"I quite like it because even then it was a double entendre." He sighed wistfully and Stiles eyed the coffee, nearly echoing him. "The trouble your father and I got into in our youth. Mm. Before your mother of course." Derek didn't respond. Stiles didn't blame him. Peter was like the creepy uncle that everyone tried to avoid at Christmas parties. "That's neither here nor there." Peter spun his coffee cup slowly. He looked to Derek. "You really intend to let him go?" Derek nodded once, pointedly not looking at Stiles. Peter tsked. "You think you'll find someone else?"
"No."
"God's sakes Derek." There was a pause and Stiles barely resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "What about him? You think he'll be able to settle with a human after this?"
"He's young," Derek dismissed, "he'll find the right person." No. Stiles couldn't rectify the pain in his chest for a moment. He didn't want someone else. Derek was the right person. It hurt enough to steal his breath.

His chin ducked down and he focused on breathing. In and out. You've always known how. But another silence was pressing down on the table and Stiles wanted nothing more than to break it. He wanted something to distract him. Something to take this pain away. But there were never simple answers. Especially now.
"You don't care that it hurts him?"
"What do you want Peter?" Derek gritted, hand tight on Stiles' again.
"So you're going to be alone again? Once he leaves?"
"I have a pack." It was feeble at best.
"I repeat you're going to be alone again?" Derek glared at him. Peter pinched the bridge of his nose for several seconds. "I don't understand," he exhaled softly, "why you don't just come home then? Leaving you with a mate is one thing but Derek why do you insist on staying alone? We miss you. We are not complete without you. You know that."
"I can't," he shook his head.
"You won't," Peter disagreed quietly. Stiles agreed with Peter, scarily so, but felt now was not the time to press matters. He stayed silent. "Annabelle has never met you," Peter continued softly.
"Who is Annabelle? A girlfriend?" Peter smiled sadly.
"Annabelle is my daughter Derek. You haven't met her mother either." Derek shook his head again and Stiles could only guess what that was in reaction to. "Amelia and Will asked after you every night for nearly five years."
"So you're just going to guilt trip me and manipulate me until you get what you want?"
"If I have to. Yes."

Derek scoffed, pulling his hand from Stiles' grasp.
"Unbelievable," he spat.
"Your grandfather passed away."
"And I suppose his last request was to see me?" Peter snapped his teeth together and Stiles flinched. It was so alien seeing a human do it.
"Derek." Derek's head snapped to the side and at first Stiles thought he was looking out the window. It took another moment for him to realize it was a show of submission. "He was killed," Peter added. "He didn't have a last request." There was a tense pause.
"I'm sorry," Derek murmured.
"I never should have let you walk out the door knowing you thought it was your fault. You were a child."
"None of you wanted me to stay." The words were hard and Derek's eyes were guarded. "Not even the children." He did look out the window then and Stiles wanted to take his hand again. He wanted to save him from this.
"We thought you had to leave to heal. We never thought you weren't coming back."
"Why are you doing this?" Derek questioned softly. "Why are you saying these things?"
"Because it's time for you to come home. If there's nothing keeping you here it's time to come home Derek." The words were met with more silence.
"Why you?" Derek questioned next. "Why not Dad? Or Mom?"
"Because you have to forgive me Derek. Forgive me and come home."
"Forgive you?" Derek's lips moved soundlessly for a few moments. "For what?" he demanded finally.
"For holding you back. For keeping you from going to her. For not saving her." It was only then that Stiles wondered how long they'd been waiting to have this conversation. Had they just never talked about what happened? How was that possible?

Maybe all the Hales were not so great with the talking.
"It wasn't your fault," Derek denied. Another awkward silence reigned.
"Um do you guys want to talk in private because…this seems like…family…uh….matters."
"Well you are family," Peter told him, "for now." Stiles frowned at him. "Plus Derek would already be gone if you weren't sitting here." Derek didn't deny it.
"Okay. It's a bit late to bow out anyways."
"A bit," Peter agreed with a hint of a smirk. He spun his cup again, reaching out and taking Stiles' after another moment. "Will you at least consider returning with me?"
"I can't," Derek repeated, not looking at either of them.
"Think about it," Peter murmured, "promise." Stiles suddenly had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach that this conversation was rapidly drawing to a close. Maybe Peter knew the signs better than he did.
"Yeah alright," Derek agreed very quietly. "You ready?" Stiles nodded, half surprised when Peter didn't protest. Derek shoved his chair back and stood, Stiles hurrying to follow.

He didn't point out that they weren't headed towards the car. He didn't speak at all until Derek stopped suddenly, sagging against an alley wall. His hands went into his hair and his body curled in on itself.
"Hey," Stiles protested softly, "I'm here, I'm right here," he pushed close, fingers gripping at Derek's triceps and trying to get his face in Derek's line of vision. "I'm here it's okay." He tried again to fit his body to Derek's, nearly sighing when he couldn't get close enough. Derek's arms wrapped around him suddenly, hauling his body forward and crushing the air from his lungs. Stiles' knuckles scraped against brick and he deliberately ignored it. Derek shoved his face into the juncture of Stiles' neck and shoulder and Stiles shifted his neck to make more room. "It's okay, it's okay," he whispered, knowing he was all but lying. Still he had to say something. He had to do something. One hand shifted to the back of Derek's neck, fingertips easing into his hair slowly. "It's okay," he murmured again, stroking through Derek's hair.
"Stiles," Derek breathed raggedly, "I miss them."
"I know." And he did. How could you not miss your family? "How long," he breathed, holding him tighter, "how long has it been?"
"About eight years," Derek admitted. "My baby brother is your age by now." Stiles didn't say anything. His fingers were cramping shoved against the brick but Stiles didn't move. He still didn't say anything. What was he supposed to say? Derek had been in self inflicted exile for almost a decade. There was no way he could make that better. He moved his fingers through Derek's hair again, settling at the nape of his neck briefly and squeezing. Maybe he could say I'm here, I'm listening without actually saying anything at all.

His hand was asleep by the time he was released. It was another moment before Stiles stepped back.
"H-uh…you wanna go back to your place?" Stiles stumbled over the words, very nearly saying home. He had to get his head on straight. Derek's house wasn't his home. It wasn't either of their homes really. Nor was Derek's current pack either of their packs. Stiles didn't have a pack. He was human. Still these were thoughts for a different time.
"You're bleeding," Derek said softly. Stiles scoffed lightly, flexing his tingling knuckles.
"I'm fine." Derek brought his hand up for inspection, frowning.
"Let's get you patched up. I need to clean out my locker anyways." Stiles didn't protest. He had the feeling his mouth would only get him into trouble right now. What Derek needed was his proximity. Not his proclivity for saying exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time. He did that a lot though. They were greeted with another wide eyed stare from the woman behind the desk.
"Derek…um…" she leaned forward, "Mona is looking for you and she is pissed," she dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
"It's alright Danni."
"No but-"
"It's okay." Derek pulled Stiles again, turning for the locker room.
"Was that Hale?" someone screeched down the hallway. "Hale! You get back here this instant!" Stiles slid a cautious glance over his shoulder, half cowering into Derek as he saw a woman with nearly more hair then head rushing after them. "I need you in my office right now!"
"Don't bother," Derek didn't even look back, still tugging Stiles along. "I quit."
"Q- You can't quit!"
"I just did." Mona apparently didn't have a comeback because the door swung shut behind them in silence.

"Come here," Derek breathed, moving for the sinks. Derek still had hold of his good hand and Stiles gave a squeeze.
"I'm okay," he repeated gently.
"Humor me," Derek returned. Stiles was finally released as they reached the row of sinks. Derek ran cold water, rinsing Stiles' hand slowly.
"Are you okay?" Stiles asked when Derek shut the water back off. There was a moment's pause before Derek shook his head simply. "Let's get out of here."
"Yeah," Derek said slowly. Stiles laced their fingers together because Derek was already halfway there and proximity was supposed to help right? Right. So proximity. They moved to Derek's locker and yanked out clothes, Derek shoving his feet back into his sneakers and draping his jacket over his free arm. Between the two of them they got everything and left with two bundles of clothes. Stiles was surprised when Derek stopped at the desk. He managed a small smile that Stiles had a feeling was purely for Danni's benefit. "Tell everybody I'm sorry and I said bye yeah?" She stared back with wide eyes.
"Are you really leaving?"
"Yeah. I'm really leaving." Stiles stomach curled uncomfortably. The statement felt so final. It felt like it could mean more than just Derek's job. He berated himself as soon as they hit the street. How could he be so selfish? If Derek did in fact decide to go home with Peter, back to his family, that would be the best thing for him. Derek should go home to his family. He should be happy and loved and he should smile all the fucking time. The fact that Stiles could even be uncomfortable with the idea of it felt unbearably selfish.

At the car he offered Derek the keys, eyebrows rising when he shook his head. "Would you mind?" he questioned, stopping at the trunk. Stiles fumbled to unlock it, jaw actually dropping open when Derek dumped his stuff in the trunk and walked around to the passenger side door. He got in without looking back and Stiles put the clothes in his arms in the trunk too before shutting it gently. He was driving? How was he supposed to drive Derek's car? What if he hit a tree? He forced his feet to stop and took a deep breath before swallowing. He wasn't going to hit a tree. He was a good driver. Not to mention Derek was probably too upset to drive. So this only made sense. It wasn't until he was sitting in the adjusted seat, carefully buckled in; key hovering in the ignition that he realized he didn't know where to drive.
"Uh," he offered brilliantly.
"Just head north for now," Derek returned.
"Cool," Stiles breathed. He tried to be subtle as he glanced to Derek but Derek was already staring back at him.
"I'll be fine." Stiles didn't believe him, not even remotely, but he let this pass too. He had the feeling that Derek needed to lie to himself right now. The quiet lies we all tell ourselves. It doesn't hurt. I'll be okay. Everything will be okay. He still felt helpless and thought again that his silence was all he could offer. When Derek took his right hand Stiles glanced to him again, smiling barely. He pushed thoughts of driving into trees firmly out of his mind and drove with one hand.

"What did he say to you?" Derek questioned eventually, "How did he get you to go with him?" Stiles hesitated, sighing when Derek's thumb rubbed over a knuckle.
"He didn't really give me a choice actually."
"When he said 'if someone approaches you as I have' what did he mean?"
"Oh," Stiles exhaled. He hesitated again. "He said he wanted me. That if I didn't go with him or convince you I wanted to he'd kill you." The silence was suddenly heavy.
"Pull over," Derek breathed. Teeth digging into his lip, Stiles flicked the turn signal and did as asked.
"I'm sorry," he said in a rush, "but he was scary and I believed him I know I shouldn't have jus-" he was cut off as Derek released his seat belt and yanked him into his lap.
"Shut up," Derek sounded just a bit amused and Stiles obeyed instantly. "Don't ever do it again," he added.
"Well I don't think your uncle is ever going to proposition me again so I think we're good." Derek shook his head and pressed a kiss to Stiles' collar bone.
"You're insane."
"I know." Stiles relaxed into him and it was nice. It felt so good, so right, to be this close.
"It's not your job to protect me," Derek breathed finally. Stiles pushed himself up just enough to look down at him, ignoring the way the top of his head was brushing the roof of the car.
"Yeah it is."

Derek stared at him for the longest time, a sliver of teeth barely visible through his parted lips. Stiles wondered what he'd been about to say when he changed his mind. Probably some type of argument. But then he'd stopped. And now he was still staring at him. Stiles' cheeks began to heat uncomfortably and he glanced to where his knees framed Derek's thighs. "Well it is," he huffed. Derek's lips finally closed, shoulders slumping slightly. He pulled Stiles close again, cheek pressing to his chest. He didn't say anything, simply exhaling deeply. Stiles let his head drop down so his jaw was resting on the top of Derek's head. He sighed, hands smoothing down Derek's shoulders and coming to a rest at the insides of his elbows. "You know what," he let out eventually.
"Hm," Derek hummed, not moving.
"We should do something stupid."
"Something stupid," Derek echoed. Stiles smiled.
"Yeah something stupid. We should go see a dumb movie and throw popcorn at each other. Share a slurpee and then buy booze." Derek hummed again.
"Stiles I'm not buying you booze. You're underage." Stiles flicked his ear. "Ouch," Derek protested, pulling up and forcing him to do the same. "What was that for?" Stiles tried to arch an eyebrow, unsure if one or both went up. After a few beats of silence Derek seemed to get it. "Yeah I guess you've got a point," he muttered.
"I do have a point; I have a very good point." He ruffled Derek's hair before dropping a kiss to the tousle, unsure what exactly had sent him into mother hen mode. "So we're going to do something stupid. And then if it makes you feel any better I won't even drink," he paused, climbing off Derek and more falling back into the driver's seat than settling in, "in front of you," he added with a smile. Derek flicked his thigh before sending a smile his way and Stiles couldn't help a grin. Yeah this was a good idea.

Derek wasn't as impressed by The Avengers as Stiles had hoped. It wasn't exactly the stupid movie Stiles had promised but with all the…well…kidnapping he'd completely forgotten about it. Nothing else looked even remotely as good.
"It was too long," Derek complained again as they walked towards the store.
"If you had let me explain it to you," Stiles sighed.
"You were muttering so fast you couldn't even hear the dialogue yourself," Derek pointed out.
"I was doing just fine."
"Whatever you say," Derek agreed, tugging open the door.
"Well there's no way this part of the plan is going to fail," Stiles told him. Derek arched a brow, lips curling barely.
"You're going to talk me out of this before we even get to the right aisle."
"How can you say no to this face?" Stiles questioned, pouting quickly, "Plus I'm working extra hard to cheer you up so if you don't start showing some appreciation I'm not even going to drunkenly make out with you later."
"Drunkenly making out doesn't sound like a great idea," Derek pointed out.
"Are you kidding? It's going to be awesome."
"That's what you said about the movie." Stiles scowled briefly.
"Well it was at least fun to look at," he pointed out. "Pretty colors. Explosions. Scarlett Johansson."
"I'm going to ignore the fact that you just tried to use a woman as eye candy to entice me."
"Chris Evans? Jeremy Renner? RDJ?" Derek rolled his eyes before stopping at the mouth of the aisle.
"You can pick two things."
"Jack Daniels, vodka." Derek had both bottles cradled in his arm surprisingly fast.
"You're not getting drunk."
"Only if you do." Derek drunk, now there was an idea.
"I'm buying the alcohol; you have no pull in this argument." He set the bottles down on the conveyor belt. "I still say this is a bad idea."
"Trust me this is a fantastic idea."

Derek didn't get asked for ID and Stiles honestly wondered if the cashier was too intimidated to ask. It was possible. He couldn't seem to wipe the smile off his face. Really he should considering why he launched this massive distraction plan in the first place but right now if they just…ignored it. If Stiles just glanced out the side of his eye and looked at Derek as they walked together. If the thought of the way their bodies pressed when they fit into each other. The fact that Derek just bought him alcohol even though he didn't seem particularly thrilled by it. The idea that Derek did a lot of things just because Stiles wanted him to. It was a heady feeling. He couldn't help but think back to him convincing Derek to talk to Peter. Would Derek have done that on his own? For anyone else? He didn't think so and had to repress a shiver. The feelings were too much for just a split second for too long and words were tumbling out of his mouth suddenly. "I really like you…" his cheeks were on fire, "you know?" He wasn't sure making it a question was a great idea but it had to be better than some parking lot declaration, right? Derek pulled him closer for a moment and kissed his eyebrow, Stiles squirming away as he laughed. "Your aim sucks," he teased, firmly shoving every thought from his brain. The last one to go was at least it was like and not love.
"It was closest," Derek replied.
"Nice to know I'm worth a little effort." Derek just looked at him like he was being stupid, which Stiles ignored. He rounded the car and tossed the keys over the roof, Derek catching them effortlessly.

"How do you not have shot glasses," Stiles sighed, gazing into the half empty cabinet, "why did I expect you to have shot glasses?" Derek ignored him, opening the vodka and taking a small sip. He winced before swiping at his mouth.
"You know this tastes about three times worse for me than you right?"
"The more you drink the better it tastes," Stiles offered, handing him a cup.
"That I already knew thanks."
"Oh?" Stiles poured himself some vodka, filling maybe a fourth of the cup.
"I worked in a bar for a while."
"Were you legal?" Derek shrugged, pouring vodka into his cup.
"They didn't care."
"And you're on my case." Stiles snorted quickly before taking a sip. The heat was almost soothing as it tore down his throat. "Sounds like a charming establishment in any case." Derek shrugged again.
"It was fine."

He wasn't telling the truth and Stiles could tell without even looking at his face. He tugged Derek closer with a fistful of his shirt. His mouth tasted like vodka. Stiles' mouth tasted like vodka too. For half a second Stiles felt like they were both drowning in the taste of it. The burn of it.
"Drinking can be good," he mumbled, barely drawing away enough to breathe. Derek drained his cup in one long gulp, Stiles' wide eyes tracing the movement of his throat as it worked.
"That's horrible," Derek was smiling though, letting his cup clatter to the floor. He took Stiles' cup, draining it too. "Still horrible."
"That was m-mm," Stiles let himself be lifted onto the counter, pushing the unopened bottle of Jack aside with his hand. Derek's mouth was soaked in vodka now and Stiles thought he liked this much better than just drinking it. The alcohol was thinner and hotter and it was making Stiles' head spin. Derek's hands fell tight on his hips, drawing him closer as Derek bit his lip.
"Need you," he breathed out, the words harsh past Stiles' open lips.
"Right here," Stiles answered.

A/N: I almost almost beat my deadline by a week.

How sweet is that?!

Also it looks like weekly updates will be a thing.

I apologize for my bi-polar Peter. Really.

It's just weird…writing him with Derek. Because their relationship is so strained. Which you know..duh.

Anyways. I am rambling yet again.

Sorry.

I'm about to go to bed though why I get chattier the more tired I am makes absolutely no sense.

I am shutting up.

Thank you all so so so much! You're amazing!

Everyone who visited me on tumblr too. Heart cookies for you.