(no subject)
Title: Just Say Yes
Pairing: Derek/Stiles Other/Stiles
Warnings: Swearing, abuse, mentions of sex
Notes: Written for this kink meme prompt
Summary: Stiles wanted nothing to do with Derek Hale. His life was already a mess, and the last thing he needed was his ex-boyfriend back. But when he showed up bruised, beaten, and completely detached from this world on Stiles' doorstep-what else was he supposed to do? Answer: it probably shouldn't have been dragging him into his flat and trying to put him back together, and definitely not hoping Derek to return the favor.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 /
He didn’t take Derek to work. So what would occur next was a whole lot of a surprise. Now, on the other hand Stiles was not shocked that people noticed something had happened. He was completely unable to focus on work. His rounds around the casino were constantly stopped, not by customers but by memories of a few hours before.
“Stiles.” Derek grunted out and his breath was hot against Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ knees dug into the bed, and when his arms shook, Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ stomach and his pace became rougher, less controlled.
Stiles was a mess, he couldn’t even form coherent thoughts. His mouth was wide open, and his eyes crossed when Derek hit that one spot, and locked onto it, his thrusts now concentrated there every time.
Stiles lunged forward with every motion and tried to reach for the invisible headboard. He gave up, and with a strangled moan, fell to his elbows and was completely lost to do anything but rock back against Derek.
“Oh God, oh Derek, oh Derek.”
He didn’t realize that he was humping the slot machine, until it’s user coughed rather loudly, and then Nate slapped him on the back.
“Hey mate, good to see you on time.”
Stiles straightened himself, and replied to Nate with a shaky smile, “Yeah just been losing track of time, ya know. How it goes…clock is broken and all.”
Nate didn’t buy anything. He was one cunning shit-head. He coyly brought up again with his whispered tone, “Really? Has nothing to do with your house guest?” He was grinning from ear to ear now, trailing after Stiles as he turned away from him to serve.
Stiles baited after customers and didn’t even look at Nate when he spoke, “He’s just a friend staying at my house. It’s nothing more than that.”
Nate’s reply was just plain dirty. He looked Stiles up and down, and then came up behind him and spoke loud enough to make Stiles cringe, but no one else to notice, “Is that why you’re limping?”
Stiles elbowed him in the gut, but it was too late the flush already spread up to the back of his ears where Nate could just see. He tried to shield it by casually scratching the back of his head, “It’s nothing man, stop it. It’s just friends visiting, doing visit-y friendly things, not more than friendly things.”
Nate put him into a headlock with a swift motion, and Stiles almost dropped his platter of drinks. He ruffled Stiles’ hair, mostly affectionately, but completely annoying.
“You dog! You totally just got fucked! Before work too! Geez Stiles, you little sex-“
Stiles really didn’t know how the universe hated him this much that this could even possibly happen. But just as Nate had discovered this little fact, their boss flagged both of them down.
He wasn’t upset at the proximity between Stiles and Nate, because it was a daily occurrence. Nate meant no harm, and as Lucas once told Stiles very carefully (in less cryptic words than he had actually used), that if those touches ever got anymore than bromance-y, that he would rip Nate’s skinny arms off.
Or at least that’s what Stiles got from that conversation.
“Stiles good to see you on time.” It was times like this when he realized why so many people loved Lucas, his boss. Why Stiles was originally attracted to him. He held this sense of power about him, confidence that had yet to turn into arrogance. Plus he was really friggin handsome, chiseled jaw and pretty decent suits.
Stiles always wondered if anyone else noticed that he smiled as if he had a secret. That made Stiles wonder if he was the secret.
“Yes, sir. Left the house early this time, you know because my jeeps been having issues, and all.” Stiles at least attempted to sound professional.
Nate’s however was the opposite, “Yeah, of course, got some action before he left though.” He slapped him on the back, again.
The look Lucas sent him was pure fury. His nostrils flared, his pupils dilated, and Stiles could’ve sworn there was steam leaking out of his ears. He could spot his fist clench, and then in a matter of seconds loosen.
His cool was back, Nate had not even noticed. He suavely slid by them and finished the conversation, “Well, congratulations, but in the future please keep your private lives to yourselves, both of you.”
The sentence was a surprise, and Stiles thought that maybe this time it wasn’t just a façade, maybe he actually wasn’t that upset.
Then he turned around, with hands on the either side of his suit, and kept his stern authority tone, “Oh, Stiles, come to my office after you finish your round.”
Once he passed, Nate’s voice turned into a hush mumble, “What do you think that was about?”
Stiles shrugged and lied through his teeth, his eyes never left his boss’ retreating back. “No idea, man, no idea.”
______________________
That was not the surprise. It would be a surprise however for Lucas not to react to such a comment. So he was even less than surprised when he was met with anger and a blow to the jaw at the moment he appeared in the office.
“You little lying slut.”
Stiles was too tired, and a part of him did feel guilty, because yes he had cheated. He had cheated now more than once with Derek, and each time he had really liked it.
The blow to the jaw was expected, and so was him pushing Stiles over. The chair he was sitting in toppled backwards and Stiles fell out of it in the same motion. This was a fiercer fight than the other day, and this time, he was aiming for places that weren’t so easily spotted.
It wasn’t about sex right now, he hadn’t kissed him even once, hadn’t touched him with any sense of arousal. This right now was pure anger, and Stiles hadn’t seen him like this in awhile.
Not to this point at least, the point where Stiles began to use that same calming voice he used for Derek. “There’s nothing between us, seriously, nothing, we didn’t do anything. It’s nothing.” He repeated over and over but a kick to the lower part of his ribs caused his voice to leave him in a whimper.
The surprise came right when Lucas picked Stiles’ up by the collar, and used the knife in his pocket to cut a thin slit of skin right under his bone.
Right then, was when Derek Hale burst into the room.
Derek had been a werewolf for all of his life, and out of all the people Stiles knew, he had the best control. He could keep his cool in the most pressuring situations, and even during the full moon.
He was completely wolfed out when he saw Lucas standing over Stiles.
His eyes were bright red, and before he could get a word out, Derek ripped Lucas off of Stiles and with elongated claws around his throat threw him against the table. It didn’t break, but the legs wobbled underneath.
Stiles sat up at attention but before he could interrupt, Derek was already wailing away on the man. He had no doubt that Lucas had gone unconscious from the first punch-maybe even before that just from shock.
But Derek didn’t stop, he was completely gone, he dug his claws into the man’s cheek, and when blood first oozed out, Stiles grabbed the back of Derek’s shirt and tried to drag him away.
“Stop, stop Derek, oh my God, seriously you’re going to kill him.”
Derek backed away.
“What are you even doing here?!”
He growled then, his features still in wolf form, but the beginnings of human started to show through. He didn’t look the least bit less pissed off. “I followed you. I could smell him on you.”
Stiles would put aside how completely creepy that was, because he had to make a decision right then. Who knows when Lucas was going to wake up, and Derek’s features were starting to shift back to normal. If he woke up and saw him normal-well he’d be able to give the cops an accurate description.
He was one of the most powerful men in Vegas, surely he would be able to find someone to connect his description to Derek Hale, and it wouldn’t help that he had once been blamed for a murder case either. Derek would be locked up in a matter of seconds.
“We need to get out, like immediately, pronto.”
Derek for once, agreed.
_
The car ride was in silence. No radio, no talking, just Stiles’ internally freaking out, and then as soon as they were in park, externally.
“Oh shit, oh shit, what am I going to do? What if he recognizes you? What if he puts together what happened? Oh shit.” He muttered and fumbled with the keys to the door, he dropped them twice before getting in. Derek watched him without saying anything, and when Stiles opened up to a dark apartment, Derek pushed him through the door and kissed him.
Stiles responded with a slap. Or well, he thought he hit the door instead, since it was pitch black in his apartment. They usually had daylight for their source of lighting, but since it was who-knows-when time of night, they had to actually use the overhead lamps.
Stiles wasn’t even sure where the light switches were.
“Oh no, no way are you doing that. I don’t put my foot down often, because you’re well large and intimidating, but there is no fucking way you get to kiss me. You punched my boss, Derek!” He put some space between him, and he didn’t know if Derek’s werewolf vision would allow him to see the incredulous expression on Stiles’ face-but he hoped he could. He was absolutely furious, what was he going to do now? Derek didn’t even know anything about the situation, and then he was just trying to kiss him?!
“You think that makes you some sort of hero?”
Stiles wasn’t a werewolf. He couldn’t see Derek’s expression, but he was almost positive he was making the one he always made when he didn’t get his way. Gritted teeth behind pursed lips, eyebrows arched down, nose wrinkled slightly- the face that was hard to forget.
“You’re the one who should be explaining things, Stiles. I helped you, because it looked like you were getting the shit beat out of you.” His tone wasn’t controlled. It was all over the place, emotions Stiles couldn’t tell. There was one definite thing though; the anger came through clearly, in that growl undertone.
“We’re not talking about this, we’re talking about how you came out of nowhere and beat my boss unconscious!”
He started to grope the wall for a light switch, but Derek grabbed his wrist in mid-search. He held it so tightly Stiles wondered if even for a fraction more, his bones would crush.
“No, Stiles we’re talking about this. We’re talking about this now.” He didn’t let go, even when Stiles’ gave out a groan in pain, “Tell me now, or I’ll kill him.” When he released it, Stiles could feel the warmth still there, the pain still lingering.
“You can’t be serious. You wouldn’t do that, you’re not a killer, c’mon Derek stop messing arou-“
He could see Derek’s eyes glow red in the dark. “I swear to God, I’ll go back there and fucking kill him.”
Stiles shivered and rubbed where the knife had made the small incision into his skin. There was blood sticky on his collarbone. This was something he had promised to keep from the world-Stiles’ dirty little secret. Scott didn’t know, Allison didn’t know, Lydia didn’t know, and his father for sure didn’t know.
Stiles’ breath came out scratchy, and strained as he said, “I owe him money.” There was no dramatic pause, no gasp from Derek or any interruption, and that made it worse.
“When my dad got hurt by the hunters, it was right before my last year in college at Arizona, and no one would hire a kid like me-majoring in Applied Science, and didn’t even have a degree yet”
His voice started to get more steady, “And I decided to quit school because student loans were going to be too much and we couldn’t pay for medical bills, and when one of my college buddies heard that I was quitting because of money-that’s where Lucas came in.”
He could replay the scene in his mind. He was so young back then, and it was an opportunity of a lifetime, he thought he would be like Annie or something. Like a miracle had become along. Yes, as dumb as it always was, Stiles still believed in miracles, and that’s maybe how Lucas gained his power.
“He loaned me the money, and gave me a job. At first he was great…and then he wanted to you know, do things, and I agreed and it was fine but then but then it got bad. I don’t know where or when but things just started to go wrong.”
Derek hadn’t spoken through any of this. Stiles could now only barely make out his frame in the darkness, against the door, and completely still. “He beat you?”
There was judgment in his tone, along with disbelief.
Hearing the words out of someone’s mouth made it all the more real. It made him feel like less of a man for not leaving, for still being here. But it was more involved than that! It was harder to explain than just going or staying.
“He’d say things like if I ever tried to get a job any where else, he’d make sure I couldn’t. He practically owns Vegas, and I can’t runaway without paying him back-that’s wrong. That’s just not okay. That’s stea-“
Derek cut him off before he could finish, “You knew I had the money why didn’t you come to me?”
It was true, Derek did have the money. It was a secret he had revealed to Stiles the first time he mentioned what an awesome car he had. Derek was completely loaded; he just preferred not to spend it. Why? Stiles would never know, but apparently transportation in Derek’s eyes should always be more luxurious than actual living.
Stiles wrinkled his nose, “Oh yeah, ‘hi, sorry our meaningless sex didn’t work out, but I need half a million dollars. That would be really awesome’. There is no way you would’ve given it to me.”
“If I knew this,” Derek threw his arm into the air to gesture to general surroundings “was the alternative, than I would have.”
Stiles could hear blood pounding in his ears. He was entering that haze, and what Derek was saying versus what he was implying started to become two totally different things to Stiles. His voice was hoarse and quiet when he spoke next trying to be as calm as possible, “And then what? What would happen? Would we go back to before? It would’ve been so fucked up.”
Derek on the other hand was not calm, and he had no intention of keeping the conversation so. He wasn’t growling or snarling, he was just plain shouting. Stiles had only seen Derek act this way once or twice, and it was usually in regards to his pack.
“It would be better than the shit you have going no here! You’re better than this Stiles!” It felt like every word in that last sentence was enunciated. It rang through Stiles’ head.
The next phrases that came out of his mouth were not anything he intended to say. Hell, he didn’t even know if he heard them himself. It was getting to that point in a fight, where the original fight evolves something else, and unspoken history gets dragged up from the surface.
“I couldn’t have asked you Derek, I mean seriously, why would you even say that? We both know what would’ve happened.”
Derek Hale never ceased to surprise Stiles. Maybe it was because he always pictured Derek as this emotionless, hollow, brute; so when he did say something human-ish it was completely unexpected.
But this right now was so impactful to Stiles, because it was so different from how he always thought Derek felt. He always thought they shared one belief in common and Derek was about to rip it to shreds.
“You always assume we can’t be around each other without it being fucked up.”
Stiles always thought-always thought that Derek felt the same way. That’s the reason they avoided each other for so long was because it would be totally screwed up if they were ever near each other.
Hadn’t Derek always felt the same?
“Don’t you?”
Stiles found the lights and flipped on the first two switches as he quickly changed the subject. “Let’s forget about this-it’s been a long night, I should probably check on Lucas.”
Derek smacked Stiles’ hand away and turned them back off. He kept the other one securely on his elbow to keep him from going anywhere. “No I don’t.”
Stiles dipped his head down and bit the inside of his cheek. He knew Derek’s eyes were probably still adjusting to the change too right? Or did werewolf senses work that fast? He didn’t want to be having this conversation in the first place.
For some reason though, he was glad he couldn’t see his face.
“Why? I mean dude, how can you say that, we were having pointless sex, and then you told me to leave for no explanation really, in the Stiles’ book that goes under pretty fucked up.”
Derek answered immediately, hardly before Stiles could take a breath, he had been anticipating this. “I wasn’t talking about then.”
That was another thing Stiles hated about Derek, he could map out conversations and direct them in the way he wanted.
“When were you talking about?”
“Now.”
Stiles refused to play into it. He refused to fall back into Derek’s traps and easy words, no matter how short syllabled or angry they were-he refused. This was too different. It was changing how Stiles thought the entire dynamic of their relationship function. He couldn’t process it.
“This isn’t a thing. We just did things, but if anything it was more like before than something…else.” He trailed off, because the words going through his head had become just broken sentences of questions.
Derek tone was snotty and over confident when he replied, “Well I clearly don’t remember sitting through the entire star movies before.”
Stiles’ mouth felt dry and when he licked his lips he realized it had been gaped open in shock, surprise, rage, something. “Star wars.” He corrected, “And that was a friendly thing. Things friends do, and you know my house, my rules.”
“I wanted to rip your T.V. out. If there was any more I was going to,” Then before Stiles could interrupt, “We aren’t fucking things up.”
Derek, when he wanted to be, was so very persistent, that was another mistake he made when he picked Stiles to argue with. Especially the Stiles now, the Stiles who wasn’t afraid, who had been threatened enough, who had seen wolves fight.
The Stiles who wouldn’t back down.
He flailed his arms in the dark, and tried to get the manner across, “Are you kidding me? We’re both in so much shit that anything we do is completely messed up and doing each other is not going to help!” He wrenched his elbow out of Derek’s grip.
“I can give you the money, Stiles.” He didn’t respond to what Stiles said-because Derek knew they were both screwed up too, and maybe he just didn’t want to admit it.
“Yeah, and,” he couldn’t believe what was about to come out of his mouth, “what if you told me to leave again? I wouldn’t have anywhere to go, and it’d be worse.”
Derek’s hand was now on his shoulder, still firm, expecting him to run. “That was different, that was before.”
Stiles tried to squirm away, pushing at Derek’s chest with his palm and slipping against the ground in an attempt to move, “Well, the past comes back and kicks you in the ass, and it is, right now.”
Derek stopped him completely. He put both hands on his shoulders now and was shaking his entire body as if trying to get the message across through there, “Stiles. You’re hearing me but you’re not fucking listening. I said it isn’t the same.”
Then when he stopped struggling, and Derek stopped shaking. Stiles answered with the question that had been plaguing his mind since the day he left Beacon Hills. The question that came up whenever he thought of Derek or werewolves, or anything remotely close.
“If, if it isn’t the same, then tell me why you told me it wasn’t working.” His throat felt raw, exhausted from fighting, “why you told me to leave.”
Derek slowly slid his hands off of Stiles’ shoulder by trailing down his arms, and muttered, “You were a kid. You were barely legal Stiles. I shouldn’t have in the first place.”
Stiles knew he was probably misunderstanding, but that didn’t stop him from replying as offended as possible. “So you dumped me because I was…jail bait?”
Derek sounded just as exasperated as Stiles felt, “That’s not it! God. Why do you fucking assume…” He sighed again, and this thought, this feeling, was something Stiles’ had been trying to get at from Derek for the longest time. “When I was a kid, I got caught up in all this shit, Kate, my family, I didn’t want that for anyone else, for you.”
It was quiet. Stiles didn’t know what to say. His brain was trying to place what Derek said into the pieces of the past that he had always been wondering about.
From that, a new question came, “Why didn’t you find me when I was older then, before now?”
This was what Derek had been dreading-Stiles could tell. He could tell from the way Derek groaned, and how he hit the back of his head against the door, “Years change people, I thought they’d change you-too much.”
Stiles could hear his heart beat in his ears. His stomach was in knots, clenched in fear, that feelings overwhelmed, the anxiousness that caused the color to drain from his cheeks.
“Did they?”
After a pause, a scary, too long pause, “…Yeah.”
Then Stiles was furious, and afraid, and hurt-and too any emotions were coursing through his being. The only word that he could even utter while his head tried to catch up with what was happened was, “Leave.”
Derek didn’t approve. He was on Stiles; he grabbed his jaw and twisted it towards his mouth. He kissed Stiles frantically, all lips smashed together, and teeth gritted. Stiles couldn’t see anything, so he patted his way down Derek’s face, neck, until he felt the soft material of his T-shirt.
Both of their breathing was ragged, and when Stiles felt Derek reach for him again, he spoke, “Am I the right person you were looking for? Like, right here, right now, am I the person?”
There was another excruciatingly long pause before he answered, softer than before, but still clear, “No.”
“Get out.”
He knew Derek was going to open his mouth to argue again, he knew Derek was going to try to prove whatever mysterious God knows what point he had-and Stiles didn’t want to hear it.
It wasn’t any good. Stiles didn’t want to know how he wasn’t the right person, he didn’t want to know how much he’d change, and he didn’t want to know that he was so different from that kid who spent all his time doing research on werewolves.
The thought made him sick to his stomach.
“Seriously, get out, get out before I call the cops or something. I don’t know. Just leave.”
Derek did. He slammed the door behind him, and left Stiles standing alone in the entryway in complete darkness. It was awhile before he actually turned on the lights, before he realized what had just happened, and could cope with seeing an empty space.
That was the last time Derek Hale ever stepped foot in Stiles’ apartment.
Part 8
Pairing: Derek/Stiles Other/Stiles
Warnings: Swearing, abuse, mentions of sex
Notes: Written for this kink meme prompt
Summary: Stiles wanted nothing to do with Derek Hale. His life was already a mess, and the last thing he needed was his ex-boyfriend back. But when he showed up bruised, beaten, and completely detached from this world on Stiles' doorstep-what else was he supposed to do? Answer: it probably shouldn't have been dragging him into his flat and trying to put him back together, and definitely not hoping Derek to return the favor.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 /
He didn’t take Derek to work. So what would occur next was a whole lot of a surprise. Now, on the other hand Stiles was not shocked that people noticed something had happened. He was completely unable to focus on work. His rounds around the casino were constantly stopped, not by customers but by memories of a few hours before.
“Stiles.” Derek grunted out and his breath was hot against Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ knees dug into the bed, and when his arms shook, Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ stomach and his pace became rougher, less controlled.
Stiles was a mess, he couldn’t even form coherent thoughts. His mouth was wide open, and his eyes crossed when Derek hit that one spot, and locked onto it, his thrusts now concentrated there every time.
Stiles lunged forward with every motion and tried to reach for the invisible headboard. He gave up, and with a strangled moan, fell to his elbows and was completely lost to do anything but rock back against Derek.
“Oh God, oh Derek, oh Derek.”
He didn’t realize that he was humping the slot machine, until it’s user coughed rather loudly, and then Nate slapped him on the back.
“Hey mate, good to see you on time.”
Stiles straightened himself, and replied to Nate with a shaky smile, “Yeah just been losing track of time, ya know. How it goes…clock is broken and all.”
Nate didn’t buy anything. He was one cunning shit-head. He coyly brought up again with his whispered tone, “Really? Has nothing to do with your house guest?” He was grinning from ear to ear now, trailing after Stiles as he turned away from him to serve.
Stiles baited after customers and didn’t even look at Nate when he spoke, “He’s just a friend staying at my house. It’s nothing more than that.”
Nate’s reply was just plain dirty. He looked Stiles up and down, and then came up behind him and spoke loud enough to make Stiles cringe, but no one else to notice, “Is that why you’re limping?”
Stiles elbowed him in the gut, but it was too late the flush already spread up to the back of his ears where Nate could just see. He tried to shield it by casually scratching the back of his head, “It’s nothing man, stop it. It’s just friends visiting, doing visit-y friendly things, not more than friendly things.”
Nate put him into a headlock with a swift motion, and Stiles almost dropped his platter of drinks. He ruffled Stiles’ hair, mostly affectionately, but completely annoying.
“You dog! You totally just got fucked! Before work too! Geez Stiles, you little sex-“
Stiles really didn’t know how the universe hated him this much that this could even possibly happen. But just as Nate had discovered this little fact, their boss flagged both of them down.
He wasn’t upset at the proximity between Stiles and Nate, because it was a daily occurrence. Nate meant no harm, and as Lucas once told Stiles very carefully (in less cryptic words than he had actually used), that if those touches ever got anymore than bromance-y, that he would rip Nate’s skinny arms off.
Or at least that’s what Stiles got from that conversation.
“Stiles good to see you on time.” It was times like this when he realized why so many people loved Lucas, his boss. Why Stiles was originally attracted to him. He held this sense of power about him, confidence that had yet to turn into arrogance. Plus he was really friggin handsome, chiseled jaw and pretty decent suits.
Stiles always wondered if anyone else noticed that he smiled as if he had a secret. That made Stiles wonder if he was the secret.
“Yes, sir. Left the house early this time, you know because my jeeps been having issues, and all.” Stiles at least attempted to sound professional.
Nate’s however was the opposite, “Yeah, of course, got some action before he left though.” He slapped him on the back, again.
The look Lucas sent him was pure fury. His nostrils flared, his pupils dilated, and Stiles could’ve sworn there was steam leaking out of his ears. He could spot his fist clench, and then in a matter of seconds loosen.
His cool was back, Nate had not even noticed. He suavely slid by them and finished the conversation, “Well, congratulations, but in the future please keep your private lives to yourselves, both of you.”
The sentence was a surprise, and Stiles thought that maybe this time it wasn’t just a façade, maybe he actually wasn’t that upset.
Then he turned around, with hands on the either side of his suit, and kept his stern authority tone, “Oh, Stiles, come to my office after you finish your round.”
Once he passed, Nate’s voice turned into a hush mumble, “What do you think that was about?”
Stiles shrugged and lied through his teeth, his eyes never left his boss’ retreating back. “No idea, man, no idea.”
______________________
That was not the surprise. It would be a surprise however for Lucas not to react to such a comment. So he was even less than surprised when he was met with anger and a blow to the jaw at the moment he appeared in the office.
“You little lying slut.”
Stiles was too tired, and a part of him did feel guilty, because yes he had cheated. He had cheated now more than once with Derek, and each time he had really liked it.
The blow to the jaw was expected, and so was him pushing Stiles over. The chair he was sitting in toppled backwards and Stiles fell out of it in the same motion. This was a fiercer fight than the other day, and this time, he was aiming for places that weren’t so easily spotted.
It wasn’t about sex right now, he hadn’t kissed him even once, hadn’t touched him with any sense of arousal. This right now was pure anger, and Stiles hadn’t seen him like this in awhile.
Not to this point at least, the point where Stiles began to use that same calming voice he used for Derek. “There’s nothing between us, seriously, nothing, we didn’t do anything. It’s nothing.” He repeated over and over but a kick to the lower part of his ribs caused his voice to leave him in a whimper.
The surprise came right when Lucas picked Stiles’ up by the collar, and used the knife in his pocket to cut a thin slit of skin right under his bone.
Right then, was when Derek Hale burst into the room.
Derek had been a werewolf for all of his life, and out of all the people Stiles knew, he had the best control. He could keep his cool in the most pressuring situations, and even during the full moon.
He was completely wolfed out when he saw Lucas standing over Stiles.
His eyes were bright red, and before he could get a word out, Derek ripped Lucas off of Stiles and with elongated claws around his throat threw him against the table. It didn’t break, but the legs wobbled underneath.
Stiles sat up at attention but before he could interrupt, Derek was already wailing away on the man. He had no doubt that Lucas had gone unconscious from the first punch-maybe even before that just from shock.
But Derek didn’t stop, he was completely gone, he dug his claws into the man’s cheek, and when blood first oozed out, Stiles grabbed the back of Derek’s shirt and tried to drag him away.
“Stop, stop Derek, oh my God, seriously you’re going to kill him.”
Derek backed away.
“What are you even doing here?!”
He growled then, his features still in wolf form, but the beginnings of human started to show through. He didn’t look the least bit less pissed off. “I followed you. I could smell him on you.”
Stiles would put aside how completely creepy that was, because he had to make a decision right then. Who knows when Lucas was going to wake up, and Derek’s features were starting to shift back to normal. If he woke up and saw him normal-well he’d be able to give the cops an accurate description.
He was one of the most powerful men in Vegas, surely he would be able to find someone to connect his description to Derek Hale, and it wouldn’t help that he had once been blamed for a murder case either. Derek would be locked up in a matter of seconds.
“We need to get out, like immediately, pronto.”
Derek for once, agreed.
_
The car ride was in silence. No radio, no talking, just Stiles’ internally freaking out, and then as soon as they were in park, externally.
“Oh shit, oh shit, what am I going to do? What if he recognizes you? What if he puts together what happened? Oh shit.” He muttered and fumbled with the keys to the door, he dropped them twice before getting in. Derek watched him without saying anything, and when Stiles opened up to a dark apartment, Derek pushed him through the door and kissed him.
Stiles responded with a slap. Or well, he thought he hit the door instead, since it was pitch black in his apartment. They usually had daylight for their source of lighting, but since it was who-knows-when time of night, they had to actually use the overhead lamps.
Stiles wasn’t even sure where the light switches were.
“Oh no, no way are you doing that. I don’t put my foot down often, because you’re well large and intimidating, but there is no fucking way you get to kiss me. You punched my boss, Derek!” He put some space between him, and he didn’t know if Derek’s werewolf vision would allow him to see the incredulous expression on Stiles’ face-but he hoped he could. He was absolutely furious, what was he going to do now? Derek didn’t even know anything about the situation, and then he was just trying to kiss him?!
“You think that makes you some sort of hero?”
Stiles wasn’t a werewolf. He couldn’t see Derek’s expression, but he was almost positive he was making the one he always made when he didn’t get his way. Gritted teeth behind pursed lips, eyebrows arched down, nose wrinkled slightly- the face that was hard to forget.
“You’re the one who should be explaining things, Stiles. I helped you, because it looked like you were getting the shit beat out of you.” His tone wasn’t controlled. It was all over the place, emotions Stiles couldn’t tell. There was one definite thing though; the anger came through clearly, in that growl undertone.
“We’re not talking about this, we’re talking about how you came out of nowhere and beat my boss unconscious!”
He started to grope the wall for a light switch, but Derek grabbed his wrist in mid-search. He held it so tightly Stiles wondered if even for a fraction more, his bones would crush.
“No, Stiles we’re talking about this. We’re talking about this now.” He didn’t let go, even when Stiles’ gave out a groan in pain, “Tell me now, or I’ll kill him.” When he released it, Stiles could feel the warmth still there, the pain still lingering.
“You can’t be serious. You wouldn’t do that, you’re not a killer, c’mon Derek stop messing arou-“
He could see Derek’s eyes glow red in the dark. “I swear to God, I’ll go back there and fucking kill him.”
Stiles shivered and rubbed where the knife had made the small incision into his skin. There was blood sticky on his collarbone. This was something he had promised to keep from the world-Stiles’ dirty little secret. Scott didn’t know, Allison didn’t know, Lydia didn’t know, and his father for sure didn’t know.
Stiles’ breath came out scratchy, and strained as he said, “I owe him money.” There was no dramatic pause, no gasp from Derek or any interruption, and that made it worse.
“When my dad got hurt by the hunters, it was right before my last year in college at Arizona, and no one would hire a kid like me-majoring in Applied Science, and didn’t even have a degree yet”
His voice started to get more steady, “And I decided to quit school because student loans were going to be too much and we couldn’t pay for medical bills, and when one of my college buddies heard that I was quitting because of money-that’s where Lucas came in.”
He could replay the scene in his mind. He was so young back then, and it was an opportunity of a lifetime, he thought he would be like Annie or something. Like a miracle had become along. Yes, as dumb as it always was, Stiles still believed in miracles, and that’s maybe how Lucas gained his power.
“He loaned me the money, and gave me a job. At first he was great…and then he wanted to you know, do things, and I agreed and it was fine but then but then it got bad. I don’t know where or when but things just started to go wrong.”
Derek hadn’t spoken through any of this. Stiles could now only barely make out his frame in the darkness, against the door, and completely still. “He beat you?”
There was judgment in his tone, along with disbelief.
Hearing the words out of someone’s mouth made it all the more real. It made him feel like less of a man for not leaving, for still being here. But it was more involved than that! It was harder to explain than just going or staying.
“He’d say things like if I ever tried to get a job any where else, he’d make sure I couldn’t. He practically owns Vegas, and I can’t runaway without paying him back-that’s wrong. That’s just not okay. That’s stea-“
Derek cut him off before he could finish, “You knew I had the money why didn’t you come to me?”
It was true, Derek did have the money. It was a secret he had revealed to Stiles the first time he mentioned what an awesome car he had. Derek was completely loaded; he just preferred not to spend it. Why? Stiles would never know, but apparently transportation in Derek’s eyes should always be more luxurious than actual living.
Stiles wrinkled his nose, “Oh yeah, ‘hi, sorry our meaningless sex didn’t work out, but I need half a million dollars. That would be really awesome’. There is no way you would’ve given it to me.”
“If I knew this,” Derek threw his arm into the air to gesture to general surroundings “was the alternative, than I would have.”
Stiles could hear blood pounding in his ears. He was entering that haze, and what Derek was saying versus what he was implying started to become two totally different things to Stiles. His voice was hoarse and quiet when he spoke next trying to be as calm as possible, “And then what? What would happen? Would we go back to before? It would’ve been so fucked up.”
Derek on the other hand was not calm, and he had no intention of keeping the conversation so. He wasn’t growling or snarling, he was just plain shouting. Stiles had only seen Derek act this way once or twice, and it was usually in regards to his pack.
“It would be better than the shit you have going no here! You’re better than this Stiles!” It felt like every word in that last sentence was enunciated. It rang through Stiles’ head.
The next phrases that came out of his mouth were not anything he intended to say. Hell, he didn’t even know if he heard them himself. It was getting to that point in a fight, where the original fight evolves something else, and unspoken history gets dragged up from the surface.
“I couldn’t have asked you Derek, I mean seriously, why would you even say that? We both know what would’ve happened.”
Derek Hale never ceased to surprise Stiles. Maybe it was because he always pictured Derek as this emotionless, hollow, brute; so when he did say something human-ish it was completely unexpected.
But this right now was so impactful to Stiles, because it was so different from how he always thought Derek felt. He always thought they shared one belief in common and Derek was about to rip it to shreds.
“You always assume we can’t be around each other without it being fucked up.”
Stiles always thought-always thought that Derek felt the same way. That’s the reason they avoided each other for so long was because it would be totally screwed up if they were ever near each other.
Hadn’t Derek always felt the same?
“Don’t you?”
Stiles found the lights and flipped on the first two switches as he quickly changed the subject. “Let’s forget about this-it’s been a long night, I should probably check on Lucas.”
Derek smacked Stiles’ hand away and turned them back off. He kept the other one securely on his elbow to keep him from going anywhere. “No I don’t.”
Stiles dipped his head down and bit the inside of his cheek. He knew Derek’s eyes were probably still adjusting to the change too right? Or did werewolf senses work that fast? He didn’t want to be having this conversation in the first place.
For some reason though, he was glad he couldn’t see his face.
“Why? I mean dude, how can you say that, we were having pointless sex, and then you told me to leave for no explanation really, in the Stiles’ book that goes under pretty fucked up.”
Derek answered immediately, hardly before Stiles could take a breath, he had been anticipating this. “I wasn’t talking about then.”
That was another thing Stiles hated about Derek, he could map out conversations and direct them in the way he wanted.
“When were you talking about?”
“Now.”
Stiles refused to play into it. He refused to fall back into Derek’s traps and easy words, no matter how short syllabled or angry they were-he refused. This was too different. It was changing how Stiles thought the entire dynamic of their relationship function. He couldn’t process it.
“This isn’t a thing. We just did things, but if anything it was more like before than something…else.” He trailed off, because the words going through his head had become just broken sentences of questions.
Derek tone was snotty and over confident when he replied, “Well I clearly don’t remember sitting through the entire star movies before.”
Stiles’ mouth felt dry and when he licked his lips he realized it had been gaped open in shock, surprise, rage, something. “Star wars.” He corrected, “And that was a friendly thing. Things friends do, and you know my house, my rules.”
“I wanted to rip your T.V. out. If there was any more I was going to,” Then before Stiles could interrupt, “We aren’t fucking things up.”
Derek, when he wanted to be, was so very persistent, that was another mistake he made when he picked Stiles to argue with. Especially the Stiles now, the Stiles who wasn’t afraid, who had been threatened enough, who had seen wolves fight.
The Stiles who wouldn’t back down.
He flailed his arms in the dark, and tried to get the manner across, “Are you kidding me? We’re both in so much shit that anything we do is completely messed up and doing each other is not going to help!” He wrenched his elbow out of Derek’s grip.
“I can give you the money, Stiles.” He didn’t respond to what Stiles said-because Derek knew they were both screwed up too, and maybe he just didn’t want to admit it.
“Yeah, and,” he couldn’t believe what was about to come out of his mouth, “what if you told me to leave again? I wouldn’t have anywhere to go, and it’d be worse.”
Derek’s hand was now on his shoulder, still firm, expecting him to run. “That was different, that was before.”
Stiles tried to squirm away, pushing at Derek’s chest with his palm and slipping against the ground in an attempt to move, “Well, the past comes back and kicks you in the ass, and it is, right now.”
Derek stopped him completely. He put both hands on his shoulders now and was shaking his entire body as if trying to get the message across through there, “Stiles. You’re hearing me but you’re not fucking listening. I said it isn’t the same.”
Then when he stopped struggling, and Derek stopped shaking. Stiles answered with the question that had been plaguing his mind since the day he left Beacon Hills. The question that came up whenever he thought of Derek or werewolves, or anything remotely close.
“If, if it isn’t the same, then tell me why you told me it wasn’t working.” His throat felt raw, exhausted from fighting, “why you told me to leave.”
Derek slowly slid his hands off of Stiles’ shoulder by trailing down his arms, and muttered, “You were a kid. You were barely legal Stiles. I shouldn’t have in the first place.”
Stiles knew he was probably misunderstanding, but that didn’t stop him from replying as offended as possible. “So you dumped me because I was…jail bait?”
Derek sounded just as exasperated as Stiles felt, “That’s not it! God. Why do you fucking assume…” He sighed again, and this thought, this feeling, was something Stiles’ had been trying to get at from Derek for the longest time. “When I was a kid, I got caught up in all this shit, Kate, my family, I didn’t want that for anyone else, for you.”
It was quiet. Stiles didn’t know what to say. His brain was trying to place what Derek said into the pieces of the past that he had always been wondering about.
From that, a new question came, “Why didn’t you find me when I was older then, before now?”
This was what Derek had been dreading-Stiles could tell. He could tell from the way Derek groaned, and how he hit the back of his head against the door, “Years change people, I thought they’d change you-too much.”
Stiles could hear his heart beat in his ears. His stomach was in knots, clenched in fear, that feelings overwhelmed, the anxiousness that caused the color to drain from his cheeks.
“Did they?”
After a pause, a scary, too long pause, “…Yeah.”
Then Stiles was furious, and afraid, and hurt-and too any emotions were coursing through his being. The only word that he could even utter while his head tried to catch up with what was happened was, “Leave.”
Derek didn’t approve. He was on Stiles; he grabbed his jaw and twisted it towards his mouth. He kissed Stiles frantically, all lips smashed together, and teeth gritted. Stiles couldn’t see anything, so he patted his way down Derek’s face, neck, until he felt the soft material of his T-shirt.
Both of their breathing was ragged, and when Stiles felt Derek reach for him again, he spoke, “Am I the right person you were looking for? Like, right here, right now, am I the person?”
There was another excruciatingly long pause before he answered, softer than before, but still clear, “No.”
“Get out.”
He knew Derek was going to open his mouth to argue again, he knew Derek was going to try to prove whatever mysterious God knows what point he had-and Stiles didn’t want to hear it.
It wasn’t any good. Stiles didn’t want to know how he wasn’t the right person, he didn’t want to know how much he’d change, and he didn’t want to know that he was so different from that kid who spent all his time doing research on werewolves.
The thought made him sick to his stomach.
“Seriously, get out, get out before I call the cops or something. I don’t know. Just leave.”
Derek did. He slammed the door behind him, and left Stiles standing alone in the entryway in complete darkness. It was awhile before he actually turned on the lights, before he realized what had just happened, and could cope with seeing an empty space.
That was the last time Derek Hale ever stepped foot in Stiles’ apartment.
Part 8