"So… you and Derek huh?" Scott asked, once they were sitting in Stiles' familiar Jeep. He had "borrowed" it, helping make things look a lot more like a prank than someone having kidnapped him.

Stiles really figured that it wouldn't help with the situation between him and his father. He glanced over at his best friend, noticing the way he sat just a little more tensely, his grip on the steering wheel firm and his eyes on the road and pointedly not looking at Stiles. Well he had never imagined that he would be having this conversation in circumstances like this…

"I guess? I mean I don't really know and I don't think he knows," Stiles grumbled out.

"What about… Lydia?"

"She's only got eyes for Jackson," Stiles sighed.

There was so much more than that to it, but he didn't really want to get into it. Seeing Lydia free Jackson from Gerard's control and revert him into something more natural had been a true sign of love and Stiles couldn't exactly ignore that. Complicating matters was how heartbroken she was since Jackson and his family had moved out of State, but apparently they still had plans to get together and were arranging Skype dates and everything. He wasn't blind. And then with everything with Derek… he couldn't say he was still in love with her, but he couldn't say that he was in love with Derek either.

"I-I don't understand… why didn't you ever say anything?"

Stiles frowned, turning to look out the passenger window. "I didn't think… I really had to. I mean it's not…" Finally he shrugged. "I thought I was being transparent about it."

"Is that why you were always hounding Danny about if he thought you were hot or not?"

Stiles smiled at that. "Yes and no. Curiosity, mostly and it was fun bugging him about it." He glanced over at Scott, glad to notice that his friend was beginning to relax.

"Why… Derek?"

"I don't know why, it just happened, kind of like you and Allison just happened."

And that was the truth of it. Why Derek. Really. Well it could have been worse -marginally. He was spared the agony of someone like Jackson or god forbid Jackson himself -and how could anyone ever like that obnoxious prick anyways? He was just Jackson. Derek wasn't Jackson.

Stiles glanced over, seeing Scott's pained face and he winced. His weekend away wouldn't have fixed Scott and Allison's problems. Unfortunately. Unable to just let the silence settle, Stiles flew into a very long and poorly strung together hypothesis about how Derek's kidnapping was supposed to bring the pack closer. It probably would, but not for the reasons they had expected. The pack was more likely to bond over having nearly caught Derek and Stiles together, and even them knowing about it seemed weird.

Then again, Stiles was still half-expecting this whole thing to be a dream. The awareness that it was most definitely not a dream, flew into his face when Scott stopped in front of his house. And this was going to be bad. Like awful bad. What was he supposed to tell his father now? It had barely been two weeks since Gerard kidnapped him and now… well their already frayed relationship wasn't about to get any better. He had to stick with it being a prank and let his overactive mind/mouth ability chatter on about whatever came to mind.

Stiles said an awkward goodbye to his best friend before tentatively letting himself into the house. Where his father was waiting, clearly unimpressed and annoyed. So, he did believe the pranking excuse then. Well, that was a relief.

"Stiles!"

"He-hey Dad," he laughed nervously, flashing him a grin. "I'm fine. It was a great joke -Scott totally bought it."

Derek wasn't sure why he did it. Maybe it was all Peter's nagging, or Erica's whining. But either way, he grudgingly signed the contract. It was a lease for an apartment in Beacon Hills. One bedroom, bathroom and enough space for a desk in the corner with a kitchen and a living room that tumbled into each other. He liked the cramped living quarters, it would discourage Peter from staying any closer than he already was.

As he carried his duffle bag of clothes into the apartment, he realized that he would probably have to do something about the futon in the living room. Peter might take it as an invitation. He folded it back into a regular couch, flopping himself down onto it and hearing a satisfying crunch. He would replace it if the owner ever noticed or cared for him to. The money wasn't a problem for either him or his uncle. And the best part about this apartment was that the other rooms were currently rented and no one's lease would be up for at least two years.

He liked how dim the apartment was, with its dark and heavy curtains that only let an outline of the sunlight in. The place was comfortable enough. It smelled of disinfectant and bleach and there were faint residual scents of the previous occupant behind, most of which was overpowered by the scent of cleaning products. This place would do. It would have to.

He could still smell the teenager's scent, clinging to his clean laundry as stubbornly as the boy had fought Derek's silences. Stiles had given him heck about his 'creepiness' being even more so considering that he lived in the burned down Hale house where most of his family had died. Derek scowled. Peter had been nagging him about how morbid it was for awhile now and Erica hadn't stopped whining since he took her, Isaac and Boyd out to meet Peter. A choice that had been very far from his control. At least Isaac and Boyd hadn't complained about the place.

Peter's laugh still rang in his ears and he spent a moment on turning his clawed hand back into a human one. He wished Peter was wrong about needing help -he would rather turn to Scott or even Stiles before he ever went to his uncle. And worse yet, dumb and dumber would never be able to help him. He knew that much without having to ask. Accepting Peter was the obvious solution, which only made the situation worse. It made it shift towards Peter's favor.

The time Derek could get to himself, he would like to keep to himself. Which was why he was here, in this apartment, by himself. Although his pack was important, for the time he had left before someone found out he was here, he was going to enjoy it. At least he had traded numbers with them, which made this whole thing a lot easier. The only trouble he could get were from the Argents, the Alpha Pack and the law.

The cold hand of dread stabbed into his gut viciously. Stiles could tell his father a number of things -including the truth -and Derek would find himself in trouble with the sheriff's office again. Only this time, he had done something. He kidnapped the teenaged son of the sheriff and he had let feelings and physicality mix -which was never and would never be a good thing. Then he had all but shoved said teenager out of his house, to Scott, without ever dealing with what had just happened.

He didn't need anyone else telling him how badly he had screwed up. The shame was firmly lodged there, right beside his wolf, both of which were ready to knock him over the head. Similarly, anger and frustration coupled with a sense of mortifying guilt weren't helping him out. He half wanted to tear his uncle to pieces for what he had done, but he needed the bastard and they both knew it. The other half of him wanted to run straight to the teenager he had probably hurt -but he wouldn't. If he apologized for it, he would be forgiven and Stiles would get a different idea about their friendship and would want more.

More was not something he had to give. It was better of Stiles was hurt and angry about the whole thing. It would keep things from getting out of hand and from getting complicated. Explaining it would only make the whole situation worse than it already was.

He exhaled, settling his antsy wolf as he sensed his uncle's approach. If there was any other option, he would take it. Nearly anything was better than having to endure the traitorous Peter. He didn't make a move to let the man in when he knocked. His uncle was not welcome.

"Oh come on, Derek, really now?" Peter breathed out.

Stubbornly, Derek did not move.

"You don't want our neighbors meeting me like this, Derek," he replied affably.

With a long-suffering sigh, Derek got up and slowly made his way to the door before allowing Peter in

"Nice place," Peter commented. "Very nice. Can't say much for the scenery."

"You're not staying," he growled.

"Not for your poor, aging uncle, surely," Peter drawled.

Derek scoffed dryly. "What do you want?" he snapped.

"It's been eight years Derek. Maybe I just want to catch up."

Derek shot him a flat, unimpressed look. The day he believed his uncle's motivations stemmed from genuine care, would be the day he rolled over and asked for a belly rub from the nearest human.

"Alright, so you caught me," he sighed, throwing his hands up as he walked past Derek.

He considered blocking his uncle and throwing him back out for waltzing in; but it was Peter, and there wasn't much point to it. It wouldn't have been anything other than his wolf trying to rip his head from his shoulders in retaliation.

"I... may have caught onto some rather interesting rumors. About you, and a young man, in particular."

"Of course," Derek growled out tersely. "I don't want to hear what you have to say. I don't care. My sex life is off limits, officially." It wasn't surprising they had discussed it. It was surprising that Peter had been in the vicinity to hear.

"Not when it's pack business too," Peter retorted, spinning on his heel to look back at Derek as he perched against a wall. "Pack business is pack business and the fact that said young man is underage, the sheriff's son and, from my understanding, possibly left heartbroken by your brutish manners... I'd say we need to talk."

Derek growled lowly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You have to tell someone," Peter practically crooned, a smirk flashing onto his face. "It's okay if you're gay, nephew, I still accept you." Derek snarled, lunging towards him, slamming his hand around his uncle's neck. "Such a loose cannon," he laughed, looking barely phased by Derek's attack.

"Shut up," he growled threateningly.

"You're so out of control, you'd kill him if you ever-"

Derek pressed harder, feeling dry wall crumble over his hand as he cut off Peter's air supply. "Shut up."

Stiles was not something he was going to bring up around the pack. It would happen eventually, but he would assert his point and they would have to live with it. He was living with what he had done, and Stiles was living with it. He didn't need anyone else's opinion; in fact, he didn't want to hear them. Sure, it was stupid to do what he had done with Stiles -he was underage and the sheriff's son. Derek could be sentenced to jail. Could be. He had a hopeful feeling that Stiles wouldn't sell him out... not that he had done much since he booted him out to deserve that.

But, first priority was to deal with this problem. Peter was choking and gasping for breath, finally tilting his head submissively. Derek slowly withdrew his hand, teeth clacking together in a warning.

"Well... lessons then?" Peter coughed out, rubbing along his slower-healing neck. "Need to work on that temper Derek."

He scoffed dryly, letting his wolf recede even though it didn't want to. Instinct warred with humanity for a second longer before he reestablished his control and turned to Peter sullenly, ready to learn from the one person he wanted nothing to do with.

So... does anyone mind me switching to Derek's point of view every now and then? I'm a lot more comfortable at writing his perspective. I understand him better than Stiles, at any case.

Thanks for all the faves/follows and reviews! I love hearing from you guys.