Little Red and the Black Fox Chapter 2: Curious, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Little Red and the Black Fox || Stetopher || Teen Wolf

Title: Little Red and the Black Fox – Of Heroes, Villains and Vigilantes

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, superheroes/supervillains, werewolves are known, Pack Alpha Peter, Spark Stiles, Nogitsune Stiles, post-Nogitsune, PTSD, Pack Feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, explicit intercourse, anal, oral, f/f, m/f, m/m

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Scott/Allison, Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Malia/Kira, Ethan/Danny, Ennis/Kali, Deucalion/Stiles (past), Aiden/Lydia (past), Ethan/Jackson (past), Isaac/Allison (past)

Teen Wolf Characters:

Alpha Pack: Deucalion Blackwood | Visionary | Demon Wolf, Marin Morrell, Ethan Steiner, Aiden Steiner, Kali, Ennis

Other Characters: Danny Mahealani, Bobby Finstock, Noah Stilinski, Gerard Argent | Benefactor

Summary: Chris and Peter are happily married. They also work as vigilantes, who finish the job when the big heroes are too lenient. Little Red is the man in the chair for their country's greatest hero, True Alpha, and thus one of the biggest thorns in their sides. The Black Fox is a vicious vigilante they'd love to court into their team. What they don't know is that both are not just the same person – both are really Stiles, the seemingly so normal best friend of their son-in-law.

Little Red and the Black Fox

Of Heroes, Villains and Vigilantes

Chapter 2: Curious

There was a saying that Stiles liked to think described him very well. Curiosity killed the cat. But Stiles liked it so much for its second half. And satisfaction brought it back. He liked it because it reflected some key things about him. 1.) Stiles was curious. 2.) Stiles worked very hard to satisfy that curiosity. 3.) Stiles was very hard to kill. 4.) Stiles knew things that other people were often unaware of, such as the fact that there was a second half to this saying.

His curiosity had made him what he was now. One of the rising investigative journalists in the states and beyond. He had never been able to leave a mystery unsolved. Even as a kid, he used to poke around in his dad's files and had solved a couple of the unsolved crimes.

Commissioner Noah Stilinski had hoped that meant Stiles would go into law enforcement too, follow his dad's footsteps. Sadly, Stiles also lived to disappoint his dad. Law enforcement wasn't for him, the law had always been a bit too strict and rigid for Stiles' liking. He'd learned at a young age that sometimes, rules needed to be bent for real justice to be served.

The kind of lesson one learned when their best friend got bitten by a rogue, feral Alpha when both boys were only sixteen years old. Another testimony to Stiles' curiosity. If he hadn't dragged Scott into the park that night, too curious about the torn up body the cops had found the night before, still looking for the other half, then Scott may have never been bitten.

So Stiles' curiosity was a bit of a double-edged sword. As often as it had saved their lives, because his research binges were thorough and brought the solution to their problems, as often was it that very curiosity that got them into trouble in the first place.

Sixteen, with a freshly turned werewolf and no pack to guide them, Stiles had felt like he had pretty much ruined both their lives. Thankfully, there were contingencies in place for situations such as these. The Alpha of the pack local to the district they'd lived in was approached and asked if he would take on a young beta and teach Scott about his wolf. That was how Stiles and Scott had ended up joining the Blackwood Pack. A year later, their classmate Lydia also joined the pack, when she came into her banshee heritage and realized she wasn't wholly human either.

It had been good. Deucalion Blackwood was a good Alpha, a good leader. Kali and Ennis taught the teens how to defend themselves, one with cunning and the other with brute force. There were two more members to Deuc's pack, Ethan and Aiden, who went to school with Stiles and the others. Not long after joining the pack, Lydia and Aiden started dating. And their friend Danny, who was much like Stiles a human who got dragged into this by association, started dating Ethan. And life, overall, seemed pretty good. They had their pack, their friendships were stronger than ever.

Until Stiles' curiosity got them in trouble again. There had just been something about Deucalion – beyond his good looks, hot accent and overall DILF energy that had been Stiles' type even back in high school. In the end, Stiles discovered that Deucalion used to be the superhero Visionary, back before a villain had blinded him and killed Deuc's entire team slash pack at the time.

And that revelation had sent Stiles and Scott onto a whole different path in life. After all, Stiles had discovered his Spark around that time and had taken to studying his magic under Deuc's Emissary Marin Morrell. Between Stiles' curiosity and Scott's sense of righteousness, and Stiles' newly found magic and Scott's supernatural healing and strength, the two teen boys who'd grown up on comic books of fictional superheroes and news reports of real ones decided to become heroes too, knowing that their own Alpha used to be one of the country's greatest heroes.

Needless to say, Deuc had not been a fan when he discovered what his unruly betas were up to. But he also acknowledged their determination. So while he forbade them from any more reckless missions on their own, he did agree to train them for more than just self-defense purposes.

He trained them to fight like heroes so they could, once they finished high school and would be adults, make an informed choice on what they wanted to do. If becoming a hero was just a fun pastime for the energetic teens, or if they truly did want to make this their careers.

They went through college sneaking around as a duo of vigilantes – since superheroes had to be sanctioned by the government to claim that title. The two helped anyone who needed it, fought the good fight. Earning their stripes in hopes of earning the recognition that'd allow them to be true superheroes. Lydia discovered their secret night time activities not long into this and joined them, all the while glaring pointedly at them for keeping her in the dark.

In college, the trio met Malia Tate and Kira Yukimura and their friend group seemed to separate itself more and more from the Blackwood Pack, especially after discovering that Deuc's past wasn't all rosy and heroic. After he'd lost his sight he had gone on a revenge-fueled rampage as the supervillain Demon Wolf. Another example of Stiles' curiosity causing problems for them. Because this was something Scott couldn't reconcile with. The rift between Scott and Deucalion grew more and more, until Stiles discovered what he could do with his Spark and found a solution.

There was a reason an Alpha werewolf's power was referred to as an Alpha spark. Because that power – the additional strength, the even faster healing, the red eyes, all of that – wasn't natural to werewolves. Back in the day, the only thing that separated an Alpha from a beta was leadership. Everything else was magic. Magic granted by the Sparks of old. And Stiles? He rediscovered that magic and he forged an Alpha spark of his own for Scott.

That was how the McCall Pack had formed. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Malia and Kira. They were a good pack and a good team, because it didn't take long for Malia and Kira to join the other three on their heroics. Together, they finally earned the status of superheroes.

Things were good. Life was good. They were quickly gaining admiration and respect from the public, building a reputation for themselves. Scott as the True Alpha became a beacon of hope and a symbol of virtue, righteousness and what it meant to be a modern day superhero.

And then Stiles' curiosity nearly cost him his life. While exploring the limitations of his Spark and his magic, he opened a door in his mind. He shouldn't have opened that door, then the demon would have never gotten in. He'D been possessed by a Nogitsune, a dark trickster spirit. The Nogitsune had spent months torturing Stiles in his own mind while using Stiles' body to cause chaos and rise to become one of the most feared supervillains in the states at the time.

Things were less black and white after that. Stiles found solitude with Deuc, leaning more into the man who had once been one of the country's greatest heroes and fallen to be one of its greatest villains. Stiles' story was a different one, of course. He'd been forced into villainy, whereas Deuc had chosen that path – though forged by trauma and a loss of sanity that needed to be recovered and healed. Stiles found himself in his own need for recovery, and Deuc was there to catch him. As more than just Stiles' former Alpha; as his lover and once again as his mentor.

Stiles was Little Red, the boy who ran with wolves and the man in the chair for the True Alpha Squad. The naive human with a Spark that hadn't fully know what to do with that Spark just yet, in the beginning. Colored with optimism and enthusiasm to do the right thing.

After the Nogitsune, Stiles needed more. Needed something else. Needed more permanent solutions. If the good guys hadn't just trapped the Nogitsune seventy years ago, if they had eliminated the threat altogether, all of this wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have had to suffer, all the innocent lives the Nogitsune took using Stiles' body wouldn't have been snuffed out.

So Stiles decided to become something more. Something different. Deuc once again became his mentor, but for a very different purpose. Under the former Demon Wolf's guidance, the Black Fox was born. Not a villain, but someone who wasn't above doing bad things for the right cause.

So Stiles healed and Stiles became more than he used to be. With that, he of course also got into more trouble. And this time, not all of that trouble was brought on by himself. A high percentage of his trouble was caused by the Red Phoenix and his partner Silver Bullet. The duo and their merry band of vigilantes were such a headache for Stiles. On multiple levels!

Not only did they love to get involved in the True Alpha Squad's missions and presented a real pain in the ass for Stiles as Little Red, no, they also had to straight up stalk him as the Black Fox. At first, Stiles had felt really paranoid that the two vigilantes knew who he was – or at least that they knew he was Little Red. But nope, they managed to make it infinitely weirder by flirting with him.

Ever since, they had practically been trying to court him into their team and also into their bed. And sure, hot, growly DILFs were his type, but these two hot, growly DILFs were also more or less the enemy and Stiles tried not to sleep with the enemy. Not to mention how messy this would be. Clearly, Stiles couldn't reveal his real identity to them, it'd jeopardize his family, friends and pack and also risk exposing his secret of being Little Red, which, considering their vendetta against the True Alpha Squad, would probably also be a relationship killer.

But then, he supposed, any relationship was doomed that way. How could he date someone normal, unaffected by the world of heroes, villains and vigilantes? At one point he'd have to come clean, but how would one determine that point? If he waited too long, he'd lose the other person's trust. If he revealed it too early, he'd risk telling the wrong person.

Things with Deuc had worked because Deuc knew him, knew he was Little Red and knew he was the Black Fox. Then again, things with Deuc also hadn't worked out because Deuc knew him too well. He'd known Stiles since the boy had first been introduced to the supernatural world, had helped Stiles find his footing and watched Stiles learn about his Spark and hone his skills. Even though they'd only gotten romantically involved when Stiles was twenty-five, sometimes Deuc still made him feel like the clueless sixteen year old who'd needed the Alpha's guidance.

Besides, there wasn't really a point in trying to seek out a relationship right now. It wouldn't be fair to the other person because they'd just be a rebound, an attempt at getting over the worst choice his stupid heart and his even stupider dick ever made. Falling in love with his best friend's dads.

When Stiles was twenty-four, an angel entered his life in the form of Allison Argent. She'd been the photographer assigned to Stiles during his first real actual investigative gig at the Beacon. The two had been joined by the hip ever since. Her and Scott quickly fell in love and she ended up joining their pack and, ultimately, also their team – because she was a damn deadshot with a bow and arrow. By now, she was happily married to Scott and she was Stiles' best friend.

(Even though Stiles had been officially forbidden from using the term best friend, because he was known to refer to every single member of their pack as his best friend. It wasn't his fault that Scott, Lydia, Malia, Kira and Allison all were different flavors of best friends to him! He'd always only had Scott, all their lives it had just been the two of them, so Stiles was still getting used to this whole having other people he loved thing. They were all equally important in different ways.)

The problem was that Allison's dads were possibly the hottest men alive. Stiles was fairly sure that if one were to look up the term DILF in a dictionary, there was a photo of Christopher Argent Hale next to it. The silver fox with his well-trimmed beard and laugh lines and steel-blue eyes made Stiles dizzy with desire. Not that Peter Hale could be scoffed at, the man was drop-dead gorgeous with that thick neck and those ice-blue eyes and long lashes and his broad chest and he had recently started spotting just a little gray too. Stiles knew he had a problem, okay?

He thought he'd outgrow this. When he was sixteen and first crushing on Deuc, he thought he'd find more appropriate partners as he got older. He had not. His preferred type of man kept being about twenty to thirty years older than him. Because he was hopeless.

Only that unlike Deuc, or Robert Hayes, or Michael Harlow, this wasn't as simple. Because Deuc had known everything, there was no secret to fret over. And his other relationships predated the True Alpha Squad; he'd dated Robert in college and Michael during his early months at the Beacon. Sure, he had his vigilante thing going on, but sneaking around at night was different than being national news levels of actual superheroes. Now? Now things were more complicated, on top of Chris and Peter being 1.) happily married to each other, 2.) Allison's dads and 3.) Scott's fathers-in-law. Just so many reasons why this was hopeless and pointless and stupid.

Maybe the Black Fox should just hook up with Silver Bullet and Red Phoenix, just to get laid and take his mind off of Chris and Peter. He'd probably feel less guilty about rebounding if there were secrets all around. There was no way this could ever be anything more than hooking up, after all. Plus, keeping the mask on during sex would be kinky, he supposed.

A dizzying pain shot through his side, bringing him out of his musings. So distracting his mind hadn't worked, that wound was still there. Great. Taking a deep breath, Stiles pressed his hand against his side to stop the bleed somewhat. Who was he kidding? If he hooked up with them, he'd just grow attached too. And he was already somewhat fond enough of the two nuisances and their team as was, otherwise he wouldn't be here, bleeding all over the tiled floor of the vet clinic.

"Oh my fucking god, Stiles, what are you doing? What happened?!"

Scott's voice had this very particular high pitch of distress whenever one of them got injured. Stiles turned to look down at the huge gash along his side that had torn the black kevlar suit he wore as the Black Fox. Urgh, that was gonna be expensive to fix again.

"Ran into a problem. Then ran into Red Phoenix," Stiles frowned annoyed, reaching one hand up to remove his mask. "The idiot wolf had to play gentleman again and try to shield me. All it did was put him in danger. And I had to hold back because I couldn't risk him getting hurt."

Glaring, Stiles tossed his mask onto the examination table. It landed so the kitsune was looking at Stiles as though it was mocking him. The mask was traditional Japanese style, in the shape of a fox's face complete with the ears on top, pitch-black in color with red markings on it. It felt appropriate to him, in a way. After all, the powers he used as the Black Fox were those he'd siphoned off the Nogitsune when exorcising the demon from his own body.

"Stiles," Scott's voice did that distressed pitching again as he grabbed Stiles by the arm and helped him up onto the examination table too. "I wish you wouldn't go out alone."

And here came the damn puppy-dog eyes of guilt. Stiles narrowed his eyes at his best friend, even as he slowly peeled the suit down to reveal the huge wound. He hated the sight of blood. Especially his own. Scott got something to clean up the worst of the blood so he could take a look.

"I'm not putting our pack in danger, Scotty. And you and I both know I can't take you with me."

This time, Scott made a tired and frustrated sound. A smile twisted Stiles' lips as he watched his best friend clean up the wound and examine it. Scott was a paragon of good, an exemplar hero, he'd set the gold standard for what it meant to be a hero in the states.

What the Black Fox did wasn't heroic, it wasn't good. But it was necessary.

Stiles could afford the double secret identity, because the public didn't know who had been possessed by the Nogitsune. There was nothing linking Stiles, or Little Red, to the powers of a Nogitsune. Not to mention that even to those who knew he'd been possessed, the fact that he'd retained the demon's powers had been a surprise. So these? These were things nobody knew Stiles or Little Red could do, so nobody would make a connection based on the powers he used.

But Scott? Scott was an Alpha werewolf and that was it. He was a good fighter and he was brave, but he had no special powers he could apply to only one identity. He'd be fighting and at one point, he'd risk someone noticing that this vigilante and the True Alpha fought the same way, spoke the same, were the same person. If Scott became a vigilante and the world learned the truth, then everything they had worked for would be for naught. True Alpha and their entire team would cease to exist. For the sake of their hero status and for the sake of what Scott meant to the world at large, he needed to stay a hero and he needed to keep his hands clean.

"I just hate that you're carrying this burden alone, Stiles," Scott sighed heavily.

"Whelp, can't be changed," Stiles chimed in a fake, chipper voice. "Less bitching, more stitching."

Scott shot him a disgruntled look but finally got everything out to stitch Stiles up. One of the upsides of the possession was that Stiles retained some accelerated healing. However, this asshole had torn into him badly and even with acceleration, it'd need a while and he would prefer to not bleed out until then. Squeezing his eyes shut, Stiles braced himself. Getting stitches without anesthetics was always such a bitch.

Honestly, Stiles was so damn grateful to have Scott. He hadn't told his best friend at first. The Black Fox had been his and Deuc's secret for months, before a close call – much closer than today's call – had nearly cost Stiles his life and, not knowing where else to go, he'd transported himself through the shadows into Scott's clinic, just like today. There had been growling and threats at first, until Stiles took off his mask. Then shock and hurt. They'd pinned all of that until Stiles was no longer in danger of actually dying and then they had the longest conversation of their lives.

About all the things that went wrong. All the villains they couldn't take out. Because the laws around heroism were strict. Killing was only a last resort in a life or death situation. Otherwise, one could lose their license and face a prison sentence for it. And the maximum security prison facilities for the supernatural were no joke. Stiles had spent a stint in Eichen House Prison during his investigation into the Nogitsune and he'd come home with scars and more trauma from it.

Besides, Stiles knew that Scott couldn't do it. He may not condemn Stiles for the path he had chosen, but Stiles was also fully aware that this was a path Scott couldn't follow him onto. That just wasn't the kind of person Scott was, it'd eat away at him, break him.

Stiles? Stiles was already broken. Shattered into a million pieces, so what more could a couple deaths do? He'd seen the abyss in a way Scott hadn't. Yes, Scott had gone through his own trauma and Scott shouldered his own burden, but it was so jarringly different from Stiles'. That night in the park with the feral Alpha had forever changed their lives and ever so slowly, their paths were growing further and further apart.

Scott kept walking into the light with his head held high, shouldering the burden of expectation that goodness brought. Stiles ducked into the darkness to be embraced by it, shouldering the burden of hard decisions that needed to be made sometimes.

"Promise me you're not going home after this," Scott requested softly. "Someone needs to keep an eye on you, in case this reopens or infects or I don't know – since I don't know what did this."

"I don't need a babysitter, Scotty," Stiles heaved an annoyed sigh.

"You do," Scott frowned at him. "I will call Ally right now-"

"No—o," Stiles whined. "Don't threaten me with our better half. Fine, fine, I'll find someone to babysit me, but don't bother Ally. She's been doing research for our current case all night."

Allison, both their better half, as Stiles liked to call her. Scott's actual wife and Stiles' work-wife. And someone who really did not need to be worried about this. She'd been working so hard on this assignment, she needed her rest. Scott nodded pleased after a moment of making sure that Stiles hadn't lied to him. Urgh, great. Now Stiles needed to find a place to curl up and suffer at.

/break\

When they opened the door for him, Kira was beaming brightly and Malia was glaring at him. Malia glaring at him always meant that he'd interrupted sexy times between the mated pair. She usually adored Stiles, but when it came to Kira, Malia knew no friends or family.

"He—ey," Stiles waved with one hand, the other clutching his side. "Doctor's order is someone babysit me so I don't get an infection or keel over."

A heavy sigh came from Malia as she stepped aside. "Why do you keep getting hurt? Stop that."

Well, he wished it were that simple. He rolled his eyes at her and followed them into the apartment. As soon as he reached the couch did he allow himself to collapse onto it. Kira smiled down at him, leaning over him to look at him.

"What do you need, Stiles? Pain meds? Cooling? Heat? A blanket?"

"You are my favorite person ever," Stiles declared. "Cuddles and ice-cream?"

The other kitsune grinned at that and got onto the couch with him. Out of everyone in the pack, Stiles was probably the most tactile with Kira. Even though Stiles' kitsune nature was a leftover from the possession, it still left him with some instincts and one of them was to seek out kin. He'd gotten much more physical with all his pack, but there was a special kind of comfort coming from the other kitsune and he knew Kira felt the same way. Not long after Kira had curled up against him did Malia enter the living room with a tube of ice-cream.

"Scoot over," Malia nudged him with a glare. "And seriously, stop getting hurt. I don't like having to worry about you all the time."

A small, tired grin spread over Stiles' lips as he got to settle in between the mated pair, snuggled up in safety. The coyote and the kitsune were not going to let him die of an infection and he'd be safe here until he was all healed up again. Before he got his first spoonful of ice-cream did his eyelids grow heavy and close on their own account, the exhaustion of the day and the strain of his injury finally catching up with him.

/break\

"Bilinski! Where is that report on the Pink Panther?"

Stiles winced, his ears ringing from his boss' loud, booming voice as he blinked up at the man.

"Pink… You mean the Blue Jaguar?" Stiles asked slowly.

"The colored cat, whatever," Finstock glared at him and waved a demanding hand. "You and Argent were supposed to hand that in yesterday."

"Ye—ep. And we did," Stiles motioned past his editor-in-chief. "It's on your desk. On the leaning tower of Pisa, the fourth one on the top. You should… You should really work through those."

Stiles peeked past his boss, whose office was right opposite Stiles and Allison's, so he had clear view on the man's desk. Four piles of papers, one of them about as tall as Stiles and leaning dangerously with a risk of falling over any minute now.

"That's what I have an assistant for," Finstock's glare deepened as he left. "Greenberg, damn it!"

Stiles heaved a relieved sigh as he watched the man stomp off. Allison at her own desk snorted softly and shot him a look. Years ago, Stiles had started out in a cubicle in the cube farm two floors below, with all the wide-eyed newbie wannabes. Four years later, he had his partner in crime and they had their own office. Their names were on some high profile articles that even won them awards and hung framed on their office walls. Well, they had to arrange their own articles around the Beacon's mandatory office decoration article, but still.

The Bigger They Are, The Bigger They Are, by Bobby Finstock. The Pulitzer winning article about doping in high school and college sports that had put Finstock on the map and set him on the path to building the Beacon and turning it into one of the best-selling newspapers worldwide. How much Stiles hated that article's name though. And since Finstock enforced it to hang up framed in every single office (and broom closet) in the building (also some toilet stalls), Stiles had to see that stupid headline multiple times a day. It was torture (it was also in the break room, as a giant poster).

"Did your…" Allison's voice dropped and she motioned at her side. "From the other day heal properly? Scott spent three hours whining about it. You know how much he worries about you."

Stiles grabbed his shirt and lifted it up to show his unblemished side. Not a scratch, not a scar. Only moles. It took a lot of energy and it took decidedly longer than werewolf healing, but the dark kitsune came in handy with these things, most of the time. Some injuries, he was forced to keep, because he didn't want to tip anyone off about his powers. Couldn't just always magically heal if there were witnesses to his injuries; it'd give away that he wasn't so human after all.

"I'm all good, Ally. You know your hubby fusses too much," Stiles rolled his eyes. "I'm fine."

"You always say that, Stiles," Allison heaved a sigh, her eyebrows drawn together. "You don't have to always be fine, you know that, right? Say the word and any of us will be at your side."

"And risk the team?" Stiles glared at her. "No way. We talked about this. Your archery skills are unmatched. It'd raise suspicion. Kira and her katana? Our redheaded banshee? Malia and Scott have their distinct fighting styles. If any of you doubled as a vigilante and word got out, we'd all lose our license and the people's trust and everything we worked so hard for."

Allison made that soft little noise that meant she knew where he was coming from but didn't like that there was no alternative. Maybe there could be, if Stiles was any less stubborn. Maybe he could find a partner or team of sorts that wasn't his team, but he had trust issues and he wouldn't put his life in the hands of strangers. Couldn't. He was fine on his own.

With a heavy sigh did he lean back in his chair for a few moments, just staring at the wall (and at that infernal newspaper article with the stupid name), before his phone buzzed next to him on his desk. He frowned when he saw the message from Erica.

Catwoman: I KNOW YOUR SECRET

His heart stopped beating for a couple seconds as his eyes widened in panic. He scrambled up and ran out of the office, even as Allison called after him in worry. No panic attacks in his office. He had a broom closet specifically for that. If Erica knew, if anyone knew-

Catwoman: come to the house 2nite

/break\

Stiles tilted his head as he looked at the massive, impressive Hale Mansion. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself for what was to come next. Erica had ominously texted him I KNOW YOUR SECRET and summoned him here this morning, which had naturally resulted in him being absolutely unable to concentrate on anything all day. His first instinct had been a panic attack, because he had too many dangerous secrets and Erica was too curious for Stiles' own good.

After he'd calmed down, he reasoned with himself that this was Erica. So the ominous message could mean anything from her finding out that he was Little Red, or that he was the Black Fox, or that he was madly, deeply, pathetically in love with her Alphas, or she finally figured out his real name (she'd been trying to ever since she realized 'Stiles' was just a nickname. She'd thought his legal name was Stiles McCall for the first couple months they'd known each other because she assumed the way Stiles and Scott called each other brother was a literal thing), or that she now knew the secret ingredient in his chocolate cookie recipe. He hoped it was the cookies.

He took another deep breath and knocked. Cora opened, with one cocked eyebrow, like she knew something. It didn't look too bad though. So maybe his three biggest secrets were save. Though he faltered a little when Cora led him into the living room, where the entire Hale Pack was gathered. Chris smiled at him, in that way that made his eyes crinkle and Stiles' knees weak.

"Michelangelo Stilinski, I know your secret!"

That cracked him up just a little and eased some of his nerves. "Not my name, Catwoman."

Erica glowered just a little. "I will figure out your real name one day. I know it starts with an M. There is only a limited number of names that start with M, one day I'll guess the right one."

Stiles smiled fondly at her. "So, clearly the secret you figured out is not my name. What is it then?"

"How many secrets do you have, darling?" Peter asked with a greedy look.

The Alpha wolf's undivided attention was something that always got to Stiles, so he had to deflect before his heart or scent did anything stupid that may give away just how gone he was on the man.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Stiles winked playfully at the Alpha and sauntered over to sit next to Derek. "An investigative journalist never tells his own secrets. Only other people's secrets."

He allowed himself to relax when Derek ran a casual hand over his shoulders to scent-mark him. The Hale Pack were his favorite people outside of his own pack, which was beyond wild to him. All his life, it had just been his dad, Melissa and Scott, until Scott got bitten and they joined the Blackwood Pack and then later built their own pack and suddenly, there were non-family people he cared about. But those had always been pack, his pack. The Hale Pack? They had fully hit him by surprise. One day, he went on assignment with this new photographer with her cute smile and dimples, the next day he had accidentally grown attached to her entire familial pack.

Well, it hadn't literally happened in a day. It had been a progress. Especially softening Derek up had been a long progress. Now, Erica and him on the other hand had hit it off right away. But especially after Scott and Allison started dating, his own life became more and more entangled with the Hale Pack, to the point that he may consider them as much his pack as the McCall Pack.

"Why are we here, Erica?" Jackson asked with an annoyed sigh. "You promised me something embarrassing on Stilinski. I am running late on my date with Lydia and I swear, she is going to actually murder me if I stand her up for nothing."

Erica and Stiles both rolled their eyes at Jackson. Okay, so growing on Derek had been a challenge, but Jackson growing on him had been half a miracle. The boy was a total asshole. Unfortunately, Stiles had grown font of him, but Stiles blamed Lydia for at least 40% of that and Danny shouldered another 40% of the blame. Because Danny was Jackson's best friend and how Lydia and Stiles had even met the guy and Lydia had made the questionable decision to start dating Jackson.

"I have found out some… juicy things about Stiles," Erica's red-painted lips were stretched into a broad, wicked grin as she produced… oh no.

Stiles' face twisted in disbelief and he tried to be swallowed by the couch, while most of the pack made confused noises as an issue of Neckz 'n Throats was put onto the living room table. The biggest name werewolf soft porn magazine in the world. And Stiles knew this issue well. Erica cackled and opened the magazine smack in the middle of the two page spread that saw Stiles sprawled out on a black leather couch, in nothing but a half-buttoned wine-red dress shirt and black briefs. One leg stretched out over the length of the couch, the other hooked over the backrest, showing off some hickeys on the inside of his thighs. His head was tilted to bare his throat, showing off more hickeys there that trailed down over what was visible of his chest. His hair was messy, his eyes were half-lid, cheeks flushed and lips red and open just a little.

"Holy shit, is this for real?" Isaac stared at the magazine, then up at Stiles again.

Taking one deep breath, Stiles tried to calm himself and regain some of his composure, shrugging. "Yeah. You know my mom died when I was a kid and she was in the hospital for… a long time. We had a lot of medical bills to pay off, so there was never exactly a college fund for me. Sure, I got a scholarship, but those don't cover housing, food and car repairs. I was halfway through my second year when Roscoe broke down badly and I knew N'n'T was hiring and I got curious, so figured I'd try my luck. It paid off. Big time. I could pay for Roscoe, stop living off of ramen and even managed to pay off the rest of mom's medical debt. I worked there for two years, it earned me enough so I could quit during my final year and fully focus on my Bachelor thesis."

Stiles reached out to tap the credits on the picture. "I'm not ashamed of it. It was a job, it paid real well and I never went fully nude for it. But I still signed up under a pseudonym."

Model: Mitch McCall. Maybe bot the most creative alias of his, but in his defense, he'd been nineteen and had to quickly improvise. Biting his lip, Stiles turned to look at Chris and Peter. Their judgment would hurt. He'd absolutely hate if they thought less of him because of this. Both were just openly gaping at the magazine in disbelief. No disgust. That was good. Great, even.

"Who are you," Boyd asked stunned. "How did you hide this for so long?"

Oh, they were adorable. Stiles grinned and shrugged. They had no idea what else he was hiding.

Author's note: Oh, I had fun figuring out how I want Scott to fit in. You know I'm always ping-ponging on good and bad friend Scott depending on the story and with the set-up, this could have easily gone both ways. But in the end, I really do love the complexity of being a paragon. That one big hero who gets assigned a role, whose whole personality is reduced to what the public wants to see in them. The pressure of that and how they will have to live up to that if they want to mean something and change something. This is gonna be sooo much fun to play with

Also, I promise, there will be less exposition from hereon out. There was just so much past to catch up and establish first. But now we are ready to dive right in!

Next chapter, we're gonna dive a lil more into the Beacon and everyone's normal civilian life. And maybe we'll kidnape Stiles