Not Exactly According to Plan (Part 1)
Title: Not Exactly According to Plan (Part 1)
Rating: Going to be probably around PG-14
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairings: Derek/Stiles, Erica/Boyd, One sided! Isaac/Scott
Summary: Derek wasn't exactly sure when things became this complicated. He thought he was doing the right thing. That was until the right thing felt like the wrong thing, and then all of it became an entirely different thing. It was all Stiles' fault. Him-his washing machine, his conflicting advice, and how he created something that Derek couldn't stop.
Notes: This was written for a prompt given to me on my tumblr asking for miscommunication. It's not completed yet, and I'm still tentative whether I should post more.
Derek really didn’t like teenagers. He never really thought of himself as one either. His teenage years had whirred by in blur of misery, death, and Kate. So maybe, maybe he was just a little bitter as well.
But Derek was usually a bitter person, so anything said would just be brushed off by his usually temperament.
Teenagers were also incredibly annoying. Incredibly annoying when they were over-excited, anxious, angry, or even more so mopey, and Isaac lately, had been the most mopey teenager in existence.
He sulked around and even Erica’s attempts to persuade him to engage in things that usually spawned from bad intentions, and something Boyd disapproved of but lately Erica had…charmed him.
God, Derek really needed to stop being around these kids. It got terrible when he was actually keeping track of their romantic interests. Then again, is this what having a trying to be recovering functional pack was like? Erica and Boyd were tentative members because even though they would always feel that very close bond to Derek, they still tried to leave once and once was enough to make Derek suspicious.
Also the Alphas were circling the area of Beacon hills ready to strike at any moment. And seeing how Scott had absolutely no intention of joining his pack, he had to keep their strength up with as many members he could collect.
Oh, and of course there was Peter constantly on his back.
So with all of these problems, having pining and sexual tension was even more annoying than usual. The combination of everything was pushing every button, and testing his ability to not lash out at his barely working pack.
Today, after the ninetieth time Erica and Boyd made desperate eyes across the room at each other, and Isaac let out deep heavy sighs; Derek excused himself to having Alpha business to attend to.
Peter just gave that God-awful smirk, because Peter knew everything, and that bothered Derek as well.
So, that’s how he ended up walking aimlessly around Beacon Hills in the middle of the day with people starring at him, as he still had not lost that accused of murder title.
That was also how he ended up with coffee all over his shirt.
“Ah damn it, there goes another batch. Why does this keeping happening? You think people would pick another building to stand outside because does this look like some place to loiter, really.”
That was a very familiar voice.
Ugh.
Three cups of coffee lay on the ground after hitting Derek, all spilled over on the pavement. Picking them up was another teenager he knew. He looked up with the ever so slightest of grins.
“Hey sour wolf, finally came out of your cave?” He collected the cups in his arms and tried to place them back into the broken holders.
“It’s not a cave, Stiles.”
“Might as well be,” he shrugged and then continued, “you know, I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but standing outside a sheriff’s office may not be the best action for you.”
Derek snorted, “and spilling coffee is any better?”
Derek had not seen Stiles in awhile. He saw Scott all the time, with all the difficulties going on, but lately Stiles wasn’t with him. It wasn’t like Derek noticed or anything-okay yeah he had, but that was only because Stiles was so loud and so obnoxious that it was impossible to not notice.
“Well, you know, I wouldn’t have spilt the coffee if someone wasn’t blocking the entire entrance.” He countered with an eye roll and dumped the coffee cups into the trash bin propped against the wall a few steps away from the doors.
That was somewhat true. Derek was standing right in front of the doorway of the sheriff building. In fact if anyone had passed by inside they would have probably seen everything happen behind the clear doors.
The only counter he could really think of was, “well I don’t see anything on your shirt.” He gestured with a wave of his hand to Stiles’ completely clean light blue Captain America shirt.
“Oh please you are not the victim here,” his voice raised ever so slightly.
“Stiles, I’m the one with the stains,” Derek couldn’t help it. Whenever he was with Stiles they just ended up bantering. There was just something about him that sucked him into these irritating arguments.
They made him irrationally angry too, it was a cup of coffee, Derek trained werewolves; this should not be even a problem.
Stiles may have about to have said something back, but his father and two other lower-ranked officers burst through the doors. They looked slightly shocked to see the two standing there, especially Derek who was clearly not a face they expected to see.
“Stiles?” The sheriff looked between his son and Derek, before focusing on Stiles’ empty hands. He looked tired, absolutely exhausted. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days; there were wide dark bags hanging under his eyes.
“Heeeey dad,” he raised his hand to his father in a stiff wave, and rubbed his lips against each other nervously. The tension that filled the air was thick enough to even make Derek feel uncomfortable. Well, okay, no he didn’t feel uncomfortable because he spent time with his undead uncle who invaded into Derek’s private life on a daily basis.
But he could understand that this was the point where someone would feel uncomfortable.
The sheriff looked at Derek’s shirt and then at Stiles’ hands. “Coffee?” He asked with a sigh, as if he already knew the answer.
“You see that’s a funny story…”
He sighed again this time, deeper, and heavier than he had before, and gave Stiles a look with those tired eyes. There was a silence that followed.
Him, and the two other very young officers pushed past them and to the van parked on the street edge. He yelled and waved goodbye without turning around. “We’ll be back later on…just don’t get into too much trouble.”
It wasn’t until the car was out of view that the strained smile left Stiles’ face and he groaned. He rubbed his temples and started to murmur to himself, “great. That was just great. Wonderful. Really helping out Stiles.”
Derek didn’t say anything back; he wasn’t sure exactly what to say. There was clearly something going on that he wasn’t informed of; he wasn’t blind. He wasn’t going to ask about it, because he was not interested in forming any sort of connection with Stiles that was outside of werewolf necessities.
Then again, he was still standing here.
Stiles eventually acknowledge him, and more importantly his shirt. “Ugh alright. I’ll get you a new shirt.”
He could either get one here or have to go back to the ridiculous teenagers.
He chose the first.
___________________________________
“There’s a washing machine in the back. Sometimes there’s a need for washing machines. Like one time my dad investigated in this place that I swear to Jesus was made of a giant mud puddle and he came back looking like a monster,” Stiles began to ramble, “so we decided that a washing machine was needed, but I’m the only one who ever does any-of course. Because it’s kind of like I’m their lackey but not really. I’m like a sidekick to the sidekicks. Or like they’re the Justice League and I’m a pending member.”
Derek was listening but he was also stripping off his shirt and handing it to Stiles who threw it in. He pressed a series of buttons before it started to make a vicious whirring noise.
However he didn’t say anything.
“It’s like wow yeah, I’m not an intern but still I’m the sheriff’s son and like I should get something other to do than delivering coffee and washing clothes because that’s so lame. I know it’s because of all the suspicious activity because of the Alphas and all but it’s not fai-“
“Stiles.” Derek stopped him in mid-sentence. “I don’t care.”
Stiles made a face at him, a wrinkled up, nose scrunched, puckered lip face, “I was talking to the washing machine, excuse you.” He climbed up and sat on top of it; the gyrations bounced him up and down as well.
It was apparently, the only way to keep the machine from jumping away from the socket or falling over.
Derek raised an eyebrow, “Usually people don’t talk to washing machines.”
“Well, usually people don’t linger outside of sheriff’s offices when they look like serial killers, but I don’t judge. By the way, what exactly were you doing out there?”
Derek didn’t say anything.
“Dude, we seriously need to discuss how silence is not a socially acceptable answer.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“Oh my God, I’m washing your clothing you might as well talk about your life. You clearly didn’t show up here for nothing.”
No response.
“Is it the Alphas?”
Derek looked down at the shaking machine.
“Your creepy uncle?”
Nothing.
“The pack?”
Derek straightened up against the adjacent walls and his glare could burn down villages. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss things-he was never really in the mood to discuss things. “Shut up Stiles.”
For the next twenty minutes, Stiles would try to bring something up but every time be bitterly and usually wordlessly shut down. When Derek’s shirt was done Stiles basically threw it at him.
He kicked him out right after, before Derek could say anything.
__________________________________________
“Well, well you’re finally home,” Peter gave him a body scan, “and wet.”
Stiles had kicked him out of the station without putting in the dryer. So Derek walked home with a sopping wet shirt. Peter was fiddling with something on his laptop, which was suspicious already in the first place.
Derek was always guessing what Peter was up to. He had to either inquire (which never happened) or wait for Peter to reveal his grand master plan. Like coming back from the dead, Derek got no warning on that one.
Derek growled and started to tromp up the stairs to change. Peter however wouldn’t let it go and swiveled in his chair to keep Derek in eyesight. “Where have you been?”
The parting had left Derek with a weird taste in his mouth. It wasn’t because they fought-they usually did that. Maybe it was because he saw Stiles when they weren’t in a time of crisis, and therefore to just leave seemed kind of…odd.
It was different, and Derek didn’t like it.
“Nowhere.”
____________________________________
Erica and Boyd were sitting across from each other. Erica was batting her eyes and uncrossing/re-crossing her legs with her chest thrust outwards. Boyd was half grinning and both of their hands were sliding towards each other so very slowly.
So that was disgusting.
He got them to train for about two hours, before they started to make mistakes and started to drink water sexually. It was mostly Erica’s fault to be fair, but Boyd was playing right into it. He didn’t seem to care at all either.
Which was even worse. God damn these horny teenagers. They were filling his house with the stench of suppressed hormones. It was actually suffocating.
Isaac on the other hand had not become detached from his phone and was down right distracted the entire session. He also hung his head when he walked but there were times when he was happy and bouncing around the house. The next he would be kicking the ground and pouting.
His exercises were unbalanced and he lost control of his own power during almost the entire duration. Either he was jumping around too much or slugging along. Almost every time his phone buzzed he was on it
Overall, his pack was useless.
That, and Peter was just egging them on. He would purposely try to distract them. Or if he wasn’t doing that, he was typing away at his computer. He only looked up to make snide remarks.
He also spent a good portion of his time testing Derek’s patience. Because he knew that Derek wanted to lash out at them, he knew. But he also knew that Derek couldn’t because he didn’t want to scare off them again. That’s where the amusement factor came in.
About five o’clock Derek couldn’t stand it anymore. He excused himself to official Alpha business.
Peter in his smug, smirk, gave him a two-finger salute, “try to not come home too wet this time.”
___________________________________
This wasn’t creepy.
This wasn’t creepy because technically Derek didn’t know that this was the exact same time he had appeared yesterday.
It was his inner wolf time clock, so it wasn’t like he was conscious of the time he appeared or why he came to right outside of the station again. It was just a werewolf aspect, returning to a place that was once visited right?
Right.
He found Stiles outside of the door handing his father and those two other officers their in tact coffee cups. Derek couldn’t exactly hear what he said when he called out after them, but he guessed that it was parallel to how he was trotting behind and up to the window of the car.
They drove off with another exchange of words, and Stiles ran a hand through his hair with his fingers getting lost in the tangled mess. It was only when he headed back to the station that he caught sight of Derek.
“Oh, hey, wandering around looking to get arrested again?” Stiles’ off hand grin was back in place, and his slouched shoulders straightened up just a little. “Because I’m pretty sure we talked about this already.”
Derek remembered there was a time when he used to strike fear into this kid’s heart with just his appearance.
Where had that time gone? When had Stiles stopped being terrified of him? Stiles had always had a big mouth, but when had his breath not caught slightly after saying something? When exactly had his eyes stopped to widen, and he stopped gulping after every sentence they exchanged?
It must’ve been because of the amount of time they had not seen each other. Some how Stiles had just forgotten that Derek could rip someone’s throat out with his teeth. It must’ve been during then.
So it was only natural that he growled, low and deep, as a response. Stiles jumped a little in his skin. There we go.
“Dude chill, I was just joking. Jokes are a thing, like I don’t know if you heard of them but they’re real. But if you’re going to be all growl-y and shit than take it to another station,” Stiles was only inches away from the door. He was tense, and Derek could tell that he didn’t have total confidence in his words.
Derek’s glower could freeze fire. Derek thought Stiles would melt into the ground.
“O-or you could come in? That’s cool too.”
Derek followed him inside.
_
Stiles wasn’t kidding when he said he only did laundry. Laundry and coffee, because he lead Derek straight back towards the laundry room, or rather the far back wall where they kept the machines and there was a pile of laundry waiting for them.
He threw another load in of grease stained police uniforms that as he informed him were from the all-nighter they had pulled. Apparently, the packs weren’t the only one struggling with the Alphas. The series of irregular crime patterns had put the sheriff in frenzy.
When he closed the door, pressed the buttons, and sat on top to make sure the machine did vibrate away from its place he asked, “So, not that it isn’t like normal…but okay yeah this is weird.”
Derek resumed his position from before of leaning against the adjacent wall. In this situation it felt like Derek should say that they were under attack, or that he had wolf’s bane running through his veins, or the hunters were at the door ready to strike, or everyone was in danger.
But he didn’t.
“Uh, so like is there something up? Like should I prepare my non-existent weapons or something?”
Stiles thought so too.
There was a pause. It was only when he started to get antsy and opened his mouth again that Derek interrupted, because God knows what Stiles would say.
“The pack.”
Stiles seemed to lean forward on the machine, as if he missed what Derek said. Which couldn’t have been true, because even over the loud knocking of the machine, he still spoke loud enough. Stiles heard; he just didn’t understand.
“The pack, they’re…” Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “being annoying.”
Stiles seemed slightly surprised. His eyebrows scrunched together and he pointed into the air as if he had just found the answer to an invisible problem. His voice next was more of wonder than his usual slightly sarcastic undertone.
“Woah, so they’re being so annoying that you came to me? Dude, there must be serious issues.”
Derek rolled his eyes, and then ended up explaining the entire story. First he started off with Erica and Boyd, and explained how they couldn’t stop seducing each other every second. He explained that he couldn’t possibly train any werewolves who acted like they were in heat every minute of every day.
Then Peter. Peter who had been typing away on his laptop and only pulling away to make snide remarks. Peter who at any moment could change his mind about not being Alpha, and kill Derek in his sleep-family or not. Peter who was clearly planning something but had no intention of telling Derek until the very moment the plan had to be executed.
Lastly Isaac. Isaac who was at sometimes performing excellent in all of his exercises and then in the next second was moping around and performing at a below human speed. He never left his phone, and at one moment had a beaming smile on his face as he read a text and the next he looked like someone kicked him in the stomach.
It was affecting the strength, emotional stability, and overall cohesion of the pack. Also testing Derek’s abilities to not threaten each and every one of them. As Peter constantly reminded him, that they had tried to leave and with all the other Alphas scouting the area they could if they wanted. It would be a stupid mistake, but they were stupid teenagers.
But it would be a mistake that would leave Derek even more powerless than he already was. He couldn’t do anything.
When he was done with this, and practically chocking for breath from making the lengthiest speech he had made in the past year-which showed just how long it took because he did have to explain several detailed plans and make several backhanded motivational speeches; Stiles responded with a solid, “that sucks”.
Derek gave him a similar glare as before, which made Stiles practically jump for a better response.
“Okay uhhh…I’m not the best for advice. Like usually the only one who comes to me for advice is Scott and that’s usually with Allison problems, and I keep like a storeroom full of answers-which he never listens to anyways. So advice isn’t really my thing…but like uh, Erica and Boyd there’s really no dealing with that I guess. Throw condoms at them? Tell them to use protection? I mean like, I’m not sure what else you could do there. Maybe have them like get it out of their systems?” Derek cringed at that, and Stiles realized what he had just said too.
“Okay, yeah, gross, never mind that one. Sexual experiences aren’t really my expertise.” He gestured at his 147-pound, pale skin, fragile bone, complete virgin being.
Derek remained silent, and Stiles took it as a sign to continue.
“Peter is creepy.” Derek gave him his one eyebrow raised, which made Stiles raise his arms wide outwards in the air before slapping them back down on the machine. He had shifted over to the dryer, which was only slightly better than the washer. He debated funding the sheriff station for new laundry machines just so they didn’t have to shout over the noise.
Not like this would become a regular thing or anything.
“It’s true! He totally is creepy!” He flailed again, “he abused a young, beautiful girl’s mind to come back from the dead, and flirted with her as his younger self! It pretty much gets no creepier than that !”
Derek’s expression did not change, but he crossed his arms and slouched back into the wall.
“Okay, but I’m sure if he wanted to kill you by now he would’ve, plusss I’m not sure if he really can become an Alpha again. But I don’t know how that whole werewolf-zombie business works, that was not covered in the search range.”
The machine dinged, and Stiles slid off to pull clothes out of the dryer. He placed them on top of the washer and climbed back on top. Then, he began to messily fold each of the articles that ended up looking just like a cluster balls of fabric.
In between doing this he finished his answer with, “and Isaac, I mean just talk with him?” Derek must have made the most disgusted face that was capable in his range of expressions, because Stiles grimaced and opened his mouth as if trying to suck the words back out of time. Or maybe he was trying to figure out what to say. Derek didn’t know.
Stiles tried to run his hand through his hair again, but apparently he had not learned from before and his fingers got stuck again. He had a buzz cut for so long that Derek guessed having a decent haircut was completely foreign to him.
God, when did he start to notice these things?
Stiles shook the gel off of his fingers before trying again. “Look it…I mean, Isaac doesn’t really have anyone to like…talk to. Like I guess he has Scott, but I don’t know how much he has moved in on my best friend territory-it’s hard to tell.” He was getting off track, “but what I mean is that he doesn’t have a dad or mom or anyone to talk to, and though it’s kind of weird, I think you-being the Alpha and werewolf connections- are the closest thing.”
When he ended his long advice session, his tone was more serious than Derek usually heard it.
“Maybe just try talking…it could at least give you some ideas?” He rubbed his hands together and his easy casual voice was back in place, “but like that’s all I got. Sorry bro.”
Derek didn’t like this. It wasn’t until he finished that he realized how much he didn’t like being here right now. He didn’t like the fact that he had spent over an hour talking with probably the most annoying kid on the planet in the back of a police station.
He also didn’t like that they just had a…friendly conversation. It was weird. It was different. He didn’t feel like an older man who had been through hell talking to a young boy who still had the world ahead of him. He didn’t feel like he towered over him and held this power that could make Stiles shake in fear.
Those feelings…just weren’t there, and Derek really didn’t like it.
He shifted in his position and grumbled, “I didn’t ask for advice.”
Stiles face made that disbelieving one. His wide-open mouth, narrowed eyes, and wrinkled forehead one. It was also the same one that made him raise his arms as if they were another sentence all on their own. He usually made it right before he started a rant about how incredulous the previous statement was.
But instead he bit his lip and bobbed his head before saying, “well that’s what you got.”
Derek left shortly after.
__________________________________
He tried to ignore Stiles’ ‘advice’. He really did. But when he saw his pack next all he heard was the obnoxious voice in his head repeating the same words over and over. He couldn’t look at them without hearing his words.
He opted to deal with Isaac first, because giving Erica and Boyd any sort of sex talk was not something he had mentally prepared himself for. Or would ever really be.
It was during one of Isaac lows that he caught him. He was sulking in the corner, phone clutched in his hand and eyes looking down at it waiting impatiently for it to buzz.
Isaac adjusted his personality for everyone he talked to. With Erica and Boyd he tried to be this confident, bad ass, who was willing to get in trouble and not give a damn. With Scott he was this sensitive friendly open different kid, and with Stiles he was defensive and there was always a bitter undertone in his words.
With Derek, he was cowardly and the perfect definition of a beta.
“You’re not training.” Derek started gruffly, awkwardly. How did one actually go about those things? Stiles had not really been specific on those details.
Isaac’s eyes only flickered up briefly to Derek before hanging down again. “Yeah…’m not in the mood.”
It took every ounce of Derek’s self-restraint not to start yelling at Isaac that he couldn’t just ‘not be in the mood’. What would he do when the Alpha’s attacked and he wasn’t in the mood? Absolutely ridiculous. But he knew screaming would not be the best course of action.
So as awkwardly as possible, he slid down in a squat next to Isaac, and cleared his throat. “Is there a uh reason?”
For a minute, a brief hopeful minute, Derek believed Isaac would not admit to whatever was bothering him. But as Stiles would explain from months of Scott experience, whenever someone was lovesick they would always want to talk about it.
He looked at Derek with the saddest expression he had seen on his face since Derek found him in that graveyard. “Derek have you ever,” he seemed to be searching for the word, “liked someone?” He fiddled with his phone in his lap, “like really liked someone?”
Of course he had. He had been in love with a hunter who had broke his heart, and burned down his house. He wasn’t sure if that was the response Isaac was looking for.
He leaned his head back against the wall, and answered, “yes” with no elaboration on the subject.
His answer didn’t really seem vital to Isaac’s current state; Derek wasn’t even sure if he heard him. “It sucks really sucks.”
It was true what Stiles said about lovesick people, they didn’t take much prying. Isaac continued without Derek even having to question.
He kept fiddling with his phone and refused to meet eye contact, “because like it’s terrible, and he doesn’t even realize anything. I mean when we hang out, it’s just like it seems like he…”
“I mean, I guess I should’ve know-he isn’t into guys. It makes sense an’ all but he’s just really.” Isaac buried his face in his hands and then slid them down slowly rubbing his eyes in the process. “Confusing.”
Derek didn’t know what to say back. This was not a situation he could begin to compare to; Derek had never had any attraction towards the same sex before, or at least he never thought he had. He guessed it just wasn’t something he thought about.
It wasn’t like he went through thinking about the different men he knew, and whether he would be attracted to them or not. He had only been spending time with Peter, Boyd, Scott, and Isaac. None of them seemed remotely appealing.
Well, there was Stiles too, more recently he had seen. But Stiles was different, Stiles was like a different species. Stiles wasn’t normal.
He was losing focus.
They just sat there for a while. Stiles hadn’t really covered the actual giving advice section. Isaac eventually became embarrassed over the situation and excused himself with a blush spread to the back of his next.
Well, this was more problematic than he originally imagined.
__________________________________________________
Derek went back to Stiles at the same time the next day. This time he came with a bag of his own laundry. He saw a similar sight from before of Stiles chasing after his father and the other officers, but being left behind.
This time he yelled what looked like a “come on!” behind them.
When they were completely out of sight Derek came out from behind the wall with a bag of clothes and a stiff stance. Stiles gave him a once over before huffing and focusing on the bag.
“That better not be for here, because I will not even start to tell you how unbelievable that is.”
Derek threw the bag at him, which Stiles sloppily caught, and it knocked him back a few steps. “Oh my god. You are so one of those people who cross traffic without looking both ways and expecting people to stop for you.”
Derek made a face at him with his arms flexed and crossed over his chest.
Stiles wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue between his teeth, “fine. Fine. I hope you end up creating a traffic jam for a very important governor or presidential person who tracks you down and exposes your sketchy life pattern.”
Stiles opened the door and Derek filed in behind him, and in his mock offended voice responded, “none of my activities are,” he spoke the next word as if it was in a foreign language, “’sketchy’”.
Stiles looked at him like he just said that pigs could ice skate and then in mid jump grow wings and fly. “Derek, you house three teenagers and a man who is supposed to be dead in a burnt down home. You are about as sketchy as it gets.”
Derek couldn’t find an argument back.
Stiles repeated the same series of actions as he did before. When he sat on top of the vibrating machine Derek decided it was time to reveal what happened previously. He shortened what happened into one sentence, “Isaac seems to have…feelings for another boy, who does not return them.”
Even though this sentence was simpler than the lengthy speech Derek had given before, but the pause that followed was longer. When at least five minutes passed, Stiles reply was quiet and barely heard over the washing machine.
“Oh.” That, was a little too short of a reply for Stiles.
Derek was expecting some sort of advice. He was expecting the same thing as before; that’s what he came here for.
Instead Stiles rubbed his hands along his jeans and did not make eye contact. “That’s rough. Um it’s not easy to like someone that who doesn’t…” He looked more uncomfortable than Derek had ever seen him. “Who is a guy...”
When he looked up, Stiles eyes were not their usual bright, vibrant, expressive selves. Instead they were dull and his mouth was in a tight thin frown. He kept moving his hands and kicking his feet-his entire body was uneasy.
“I don’t know what to tell you. There’s really no way of fixing that…I don’t think you can uh help.”
Derek made a noise of somewhere between a snort and a sigh, “you act like you know.”
There was that same silence. The machine started to make its occasional ferocious roaring noise. Stiles’ unplugging and re-plugging the machine usually fixed this. This time, however, he did not. After a couple of minutes (in which Derek supposed he should’ve said something) he slid off the machine, and pulled Derek’s laundry out.
He handed Derek the clothing in a wet still dirty mess and his voice cracked when he spoke, “you know I should really fix that, uh maybe you should come by later.”
Stiles looked…small like this. Even though, yeah, he wasn’t the most confident kid-he acted like he had confidence but this-he wasn’t even trying. It made Derek feel…bad.
It was about then that Derek thought that he said something.
________________________________________________________________
He knew that he did something wrong when Stiles was not at the station the next two days he went. On the third, he began to actual think about what happened. On the fourth, he finally put things together.
Stiles had feelings for a guy that’s why he was so knowledgeable about the subject, clearly that’s what Derek missed and should’ve said something.
Isaac had feelings for a guy, they both had feelings for each other, but they weren’t aware of it. Maybe he should’ve put that together before, but Jesus Christ Derek’s life was not supposed to be a television show.
If they were to solve whatever muddled mess the two had going on then things would be better right? Derek would have at least one member of the pack back.
Derek approached Peter about this plan. Because if there was one person who always liked to scheme it was Peter Hale, and this particular scheme had him grinning like a maniac.
But really, his smile practically split his face in half, and it was probably one of the most terrifying things Derek had ever seen.
Before he started to create his plan, he asked Derek a strange question.
“And you’re okay with this?”
This was cryptic even for Peter. Not only was it confusing, but also it made Derek feel like this was something he should be indecisive about. Peter usually did know not a more moral route, but a more efficient. But any hint of weakness Peter would take as an opportunity to take the situation, control it, and expedite it into something purely for his pleasure.
So in all the assurance of an Alpha he answered, “yes of course.”
Peter’s smile widened and he swiveled back to his laptop.
Derek didn’t realize that Peter was even more observant than he gave off. Not only was he more observant but also he was also far more twisted than he let off. Because even if Derek thought his life was like a television show before, he had no idea that it was about to become the difficult soap opera he could even think of.
Plans never really worked out the way he intended, and by the end of the day tomorrow this entire thing would be one of his biggest regrets. Right now though, he didn’t know anything that would happen in the future. The only think going through his head was one question.
Why would Peter even ask him that?
He had no problem with Isaac and Stiles getting together. It would help his pack, why wouldn’t he be okay with that?
There as nothing wrong. He was doing the right thing.
Right?
Part 2
Rating: Going to be probably around PG-14
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairings: Derek/Stiles, Erica/Boyd, One sided! Isaac/Scott
Summary: Derek wasn't exactly sure when things became this complicated. He thought he was doing the right thing. That was until the right thing felt like the wrong thing, and then all of it became an entirely different thing. It was all Stiles' fault. Him-his washing machine, his conflicting advice, and how he created something that Derek couldn't stop.
Notes: This was written for a prompt given to me on my tumblr asking for miscommunication. It's not completed yet, and I'm still tentative whether I should post more.
Derek really didn’t like teenagers. He never really thought of himself as one either. His teenage years had whirred by in blur of misery, death, and Kate. So maybe, maybe he was just a little bitter as well.
But Derek was usually a bitter person, so anything said would just be brushed off by his usually temperament.
Teenagers were also incredibly annoying. Incredibly annoying when they were over-excited, anxious, angry, or even more so mopey, and Isaac lately, had been the most mopey teenager in existence.
He sulked around and even Erica’s attempts to persuade him to engage in things that usually spawned from bad intentions, and something Boyd disapproved of but lately Erica had…charmed him.
God, Derek really needed to stop being around these kids. It got terrible when he was actually keeping track of their romantic interests. Then again, is this what having a trying to be recovering functional pack was like? Erica and Boyd were tentative members because even though they would always feel that very close bond to Derek, they still tried to leave once and once was enough to make Derek suspicious.
Also the Alphas were circling the area of Beacon hills ready to strike at any moment. And seeing how Scott had absolutely no intention of joining his pack, he had to keep their strength up with as many members he could collect.
Oh, and of course there was Peter constantly on his back.
So with all of these problems, having pining and sexual tension was even more annoying than usual. The combination of everything was pushing every button, and testing his ability to not lash out at his barely working pack.
Today, after the ninetieth time Erica and Boyd made desperate eyes across the room at each other, and Isaac let out deep heavy sighs; Derek excused himself to having Alpha business to attend to.
Peter just gave that God-awful smirk, because Peter knew everything, and that bothered Derek as well.
So, that’s how he ended up walking aimlessly around Beacon Hills in the middle of the day with people starring at him, as he still had not lost that accused of murder title.
That was also how he ended up with coffee all over his shirt.
“Ah damn it, there goes another batch. Why does this keeping happening? You think people would pick another building to stand outside because does this look like some place to loiter, really.”
That was a very familiar voice.
Ugh.
Three cups of coffee lay on the ground after hitting Derek, all spilled over on the pavement. Picking them up was another teenager he knew. He looked up with the ever so slightest of grins.
“Hey sour wolf, finally came out of your cave?” He collected the cups in his arms and tried to place them back into the broken holders.
“It’s not a cave, Stiles.”
“Might as well be,” he shrugged and then continued, “you know, I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but standing outside a sheriff’s office may not be the best action for you.”
Derek snorted, “and spilling coffee is any better?”
Derek had not seen Stiles in awhile. He saw Scott all the time, with all the difficulties going on, but lately Stiles wasn’t with him. It wasn’t like Derek noticed or anything-okay yeah he had, but that was only because Stiles was so loud and so obnoxious that it was impossible to not notice.
“Well, you know, I wouldn’t have spilt the coffee if someone wasn’t blocking the entire entrance.” He countered with an eye roll and dumped the coffee cups into the trash bin propped against the wall a few steps away from the doors.
That was somewhat true. Derek was standing right in front of the doorway of the sheriff building. In fact if anyone had passed by inside they would have probably seen everything happen behind the clear doors.
The only counter he could really think of was, “well I don’t see anything on your shirt.” He gestured with a wave of his hand to Stiles’ completely clean light blue Captain America shirt.
“Oh please you are not the victim here,” his voice raised ever so slightly.
“Stiles, I’m the one with the stains,” Derek couldn’t help it. Whenever he was with Stiles they just ended up bantering. There was just something about him that sucked him into these irritating arguments.
They made him irrationally angry too, it was a cup of coffee, Derek trained werewolves; this should not be even a problem.
Stiles may have about to have said something back, but his father and two other lower-ranked officers burst through the doors. They looked slightly shocked to see the two standing there, especially Derek who was clearly not a face they expected to see.
“Stiles?” The sheriff looked between his son and Derek, before focusing on Stiles’ empty hands. He looked tired, absolutely exhausted. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days; there were wide dark bags hanging under his eyes.
“Heeeey dad,” he raised his hand to his father in a stiff wave, and rubbed his lips against each other nervously. The tension that filled the air was thick enough to even make Derek feel uncomfortable. Well, okay, no he didn’t feel uncomfortable because he spent time with his undead uncle who invaded into Derek’s private life on a daily basis.
But he could understand that this was the point where someone would feel uncomfortable.
The sheriff looked at Derek’s shirt and then at Stiles’ hands. “Coffee?” He asked with a sigh, as if he already knew the answer.
“You see that’s a funny story…”
He sighed again this time, deeper, and heavier than he had before, and gave Stiles a look with those tired eyes. There was a silence that followed.
Him, and the two other very young officers pushed past them and to the van parked on the street edge. He yelled and waved goodbye without turning around. “We’ll be back later on…just don’t get into too much trouble.”
It wasn’t until the car was out of view that the strained smile left Stiles’ face and he groaned. He rubbed his temples and started to murmur to himself, “great. That was just great. Wonderful. Really helping out Stiles.”
Derek didn’t say anything back; he wasn’t sure exactly what to say. There was clearly something going on that he wasn’t informed of; he wasn’t blind. He wasn’t going to ask about it, because he was not interested in forming any sort of connection with Stiles that was outside of werewolf necessities.
Then again, he was still standing here.
Stiles eventually acknowledge him, and more importantly his shirt. “Ugh alright. I’ll get you a new shirt.”
He could either get one here or have to go back to the ridiculous teenagers.
He chose the first.
___________________________________
“There’s a washing machine in the back. Sometimes there’s a need for washing machines. Like one time my dad investigated in this place that I swear to Jesus was made of a giant mud puddle and he came back looking like a monster,” Stiles began to ramble, “so we decided that a washing machine was needed, but I’m the only one who ever does any-of course. Because it’s kind of like I’m their lackey but not really. I’m like a sidekick to the sidekicks. Or like they’re the Justice League and I’m a pending member.”
Derek was listening but he was also stripping off his shirt and handing it to Stiles who threw it in. He pressed a series of buttons before it started to make a vicious whirring noise.
However he didn’t say anything.
“It’s like wow yeah, I’m not an intern but still I’m the sheriff’s son and like I should get something other to do than delivering coffee and washing clothes because that’s so lame. I know it’s because of all the suspicious activity because of the Alphas and all but it’s not fai-“
“Stiles.” Derek stopped him in mid-sentence. “I don’t care.”
Stiles made a face at him, a wrinkled up, nose scrunched, puckered lip face, “I was talking to the washing machine, excuse you.” He climbed up and sat on top of it; the gyrations bounced him up and down as well.
It was apparently, the only way to keep the machine from jumping away from the socket or falling over.
Derek raised an eyebrow, “Usually people don’t talk to washing machines.”
“Well, usually people don’t linger outside of sheriff’s offices when they look like serial killers, but I don’t judge. By the way, what exactly were you doing out there?”
Derek didn’t say anything.
“Dude, we seriously need to discuss how silence is not a socially acceptable answer.”
He still didn’t say anything.
“Oh my God, I’m washing your clothing you might as well talk about your life. You clearly didn’t show up here for nothing.”
No response.
“Is it the Alphas?”
Derek looked down at the shaking machine.
“Your creepy uncle?”
Nothing.
“The pack?”
Derek straightened up against the adjacent walls and his glare could burn down villages. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss things-he was never really in the mood to discuss things. “Shut up Stiles.”
For the next twenty minutes, Stiles would try to bring something up but every time be bitterly and usually wordlessly shut down. When Derek’s shirt was done Stiles basically threw it at him.
He kicked him out right after, before Derek could say anything.
__________________________________________
“Well, well you’re finally home,” Peter gave him a body scan, “and wet.”
Stiles had kicked him out of the station without putting in the dryer. So Derek walked home with a sopping wet shirt. Peter was fiddling with something on his laptop, which was suspicious already in the first place.
Derek was always guessing what Peter was up to. He had to either inquire (which never happened) or wait for Peter to reveal his grand master plan. Like coming back from the dead, Derek got no warning on that one.
Derek growled and started to tromp up the stairs to change. Peter however wouldn’t let it go and swiveled in his chair to keep Derek in eyesight. “Where have you been?”
The parting had left Derek with a weird taste in his mouth. It wasn’t because they fought-they usually did that. Maybe it was because he saw Stiles when they weren’t in a time of crisis, and therefore to just leave seemed kind of…odd.
It was different, and Derek didn’t like it.
“Nowhere.”
____________________________________
Erica and Boyd were sitting across from each other. Erica was batting her eyes and uncrossing/re-crossing her legs with her chest thrust outwards. Boyd was half grinning and both of their hands were sliding towards each other so very slowly.
So that was disgusting.
He got them to train for about two hours, before they started to make mistakes and started to drink water sexually. It was mostly Erica’s fault to be fair, but Boyd was playing right into it. He didn’t seem to care at all either.
Which was even worse. God damn these horny teenagers. They were filling his house with the stench of suppressed hormones. It was actually suffocating.
Isaac on the other hand had not become detached from his phone and was down right distracted the entire session. He also hung his head when he walked but there were times when he was happy and bouncing around the house. The next he would be kicking the ground and pouting.
His exercises were unbalanced and he lost control of his own power during almost the entire duration. Either he was jumping around too much or slugging along. Almost every time his phone buzzed he was on it
Overall, his pack was useless.
That, and Peter was just egging them on. He would purposely try to distract them. Or if he wasn’t doing that, he was typing away at his computer. He only looked up to make snide remarks.
He also spent a good portion of his time testing Derek’s patience. Because he knew that Derek wanted to lash out at them, he knew. But he also knew that Derek couldn’t because he didn’t want to scare off them again. That’s where the amusement factor came in.
About five o’clock Derek couldn’t stand it anymore. He excused himself to official Alpha business.
Peter in his smug, smirk, gave him a two-finger salute, “try to not come home too wet this time.”
___________________________________
This wasn’t creepy.
This wasn’t creepy because technically Derek didn’t know that this was the exact same time he had appeared yesterday.
It was his inner wolf time clock, so it wasn’t like he was conscious of the time he appeared or why he came to right outside of the station again. It was just a werewolf aspect, returning to a place that was once visited right?
Right.
He found Stiles outside of the door handing his father and those two other officers their in tact coffee cups. Derek couldn’t exactly hear what he said when he called out after them, but he guessed that it was parallel to how he was trotting behind and up to the window of the car.
They drove off with another exchange of words, and Stiles ran a hand through his hair with his fingers getting lost in the tangled mess. It was only when he headed back to the station that he caught sight of Derek.
“Oh, hey, wandering around looking to get arrested again?” Stiles’ off hand grin was back in place, and his slouched shoulders straightened up just a little. “Because I’m pretty sure we talked about this already.”
Derek remembered there was a time when he used to strike fear into this kid’s heart with just his appearance.
Where had that time gone? When had Stiles stopped being terrified of him? Stiles had always had a big mouth, but when had his breath not caught slightly after saying something? When exactly had his eyes stopped to widen, and he stopped gulping after every sentence they exchanged?
It must’ve been because of the amount of time they had not seen each other. Some how Stiles had just forgotten that Derek could rip someone’s throat out with his teeth. It must’ve been during then.
So it was only natural that he growled, low and deep, as a response. Stiles jumped a little in his skin. There we go.
“Dude chill, I was just joking. Jokes are a thing, like I don’t know if you heard of them but they’re real. But if you’re going to be all growl-y and shit than take it to another station,” Stiles was only inches away from the door. He was tense, and Derek could tell that he didn’t have total confidence in his words.
Derek’s glower could freeze fire. Derek thought Stiles would melt into the ground.
“O-or you could come in? That’s cool too.”
Derek followed him inside.
_
Stiles wasn’t kidding when he said he only did laundry. Laundry and coffee, because he lead Derek straight back towards the laundry room, or rather the far back wall where they kept the machines and there was a pile of laundry waiting for them.
He threw another load in of grease stained police uniforms that as he informed him were from the all-nighter they had pulled. Apparently, the packs weren’t the only one struggling with the Alphas. The series of irregular crime patterns had put the sheriff in frenzy.
When he closed the door, pressed the buttons, and sat on top to make sure the machine did vibrate away from its place he asked, “So, not that it isn’t like normal…but okay yeah this is weird.”
Derek resumed his position from before of leaning against the adjacent wall. In this situation it felt like Derek should say that they were under attack, or that he had wolf’s bane running through his veins, or the hunters were at the door ready to strike, or everyone was in danger.
But he didn’t.
“Uh, so like is there something up? Like should I prepare my non-existent weapons or something?”
Stiles thought so too.
There was a pause. It was only when he started to get antsy and opened his mouth again that Derek interrupted, because God knows what Stiles would say.
“The pack.”
Stiles seemed to lean forward on the machine, as if he missed what Derek said. Which couldn’t have been true, because even over the loud knocking of the machine, he still spoke loud enough. Stiles heard; he just didn’t understand.
“The pack, they’re…” Derek sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “being annoying.”
Stiles seemed slightly surprised. His eyebrows scrunched together and he pointed into the air as if he had just found the answer to an invisible problem. His voice next was more of wonder than his usual slightly sarcastic undertone.
“Woah, so they’re being so annoying that you came to me? Dude, there must be serious issues.”
Derek rolled his eyes, and then ended up explaining the entire story. First he started off with Erica and Boyd, and explained how they couldn’t stop seducing each other every second. He explained that he couldn’t possibly train any werewolves who acted like they were in heat every minute of every day.
Then Peter. Peter who had been typing away on his laptop and only pulling away to make snide remarks. Peter who at any moment could change his mind about not being Alpha, and kill Derek in his sleep-family or not. Peter who was clearly planning something but had no intention of telling Derek until the very moment the plan had to be executed.
Lastly Isaac. Isaac who was at sometimes performing excellent in all of his exercises and then in the next second was moping around and performing at a below human speed. He never left his phone, and at one moment had a beaming smile on his face as he read a text and the next he looked like someone kicked him in the stomach.
It was affecting the strength, emotional stability, and overall cohesion of the pack. Also testing Derek’s abilities to not threaten each and every one of them. As Peter constantly reminded him, that they had tried to leave and with all the other Alphas scouting the area they could if they wanted. It would be a stupid mistake, but they were stupid teenagers.
But it would be a mistake that would leave Derek even more powerless than he already was. He couldn’t do anything.
When he was done with this, and practically chocking for breath from making the lengthiest speech he had made in the past year-which showed just how long it took because he did have to explain several detailed plans and make several backhanded motivational speeches; Stiles responded with a solid, “that sucks”.
Derek gave him a similar glare as before, which made Stiles practically jump for a better response.
“Okay uhhh…I’m not the best for advice. Like usually the only one who comes to me for advice is Scott and that’s usually with Allison problems, and I keep like a storeroom full of answers-which he never listens to anyways. So advice isn’t really my thing…but like uh, Erica and Boyd there’s really no dealing with that I guess. Throw condoms at them? Tell them to use protection? I mean like, I’m not sure what else you could do there. Maybe have them like get it out of their systems?” Derek cringed at that, and Stiles realized what he had just said too.
“Okay, yeah, gross, never mind that one. Sexual experiences aren’t really my expertise.” He gestured at his 147-pound, pale skin, fragile bone, complete virgin being.
Derek remained silent, and Stiles took it as a sign to continue.
“Peter is creepy.” Derek gave him his one eyebrow raised, which made Stiles raise his arms wide outwards in the air before slapping them back down on the machine. He had shifted over to the dryer, which was only slightly better than the washer. He debated funding the sheriff station for new laundry machines just so they didn’t have to shout over the noise.
Not like this would become a regular thing or anything.
“It’s true! He totally is creepy!” He flailed again, “he abused a young, beautiful girl’s mind to come back from the dead, and flirted with her as his younger self! It pretty much gets no creepier than that !”
Derek’s expression did not change, but he crossed his arms and slouched back into the wall.
“Okay, but I’m sure if he wanted to kill you by now he would’ve, plusss I’m not sure if he really can become an Alpha again. But I don’t know how that whole werewolf-zombie business works, that was not covered in the search range.”
The machine dinged, and Stiles slid off to pull clothes out of the dryer. He placed them on top of the washer and climbed back on top. Then, he began to messily fold each of the articles that ended up looking just like a cluster balls of fabric.
In between doing this he finished his answer with, “and Isaac, I mean just talk with him?” Derek must have made the most disgusted face that was capable in his range of expressions, because Stiles grimaced and opened his mouth as if trying to suck the words back out of time. Or maybe he was trying to figure out what to say. Derek didn’t know.
Stiles tried to run his hand through his hair again, but apparently he had not learned from before and his fingers got stuck again. He had a buzz cut for so long that Derek guessed having a decent haircut was completely foreign to him.
God, when did he start to notice these things?
Stiles shook the gel off of his fingers before trying again. “Look it…I mean, Isaac doesn’t really have anyone to like…talk to. Like I guess he has Scott, but I don’t know how much he has moved in on my best friend territory-it’s hard to tell.” He was getting off track, “but what I mean is that he doesn’t have a dad or mom or anyone to talk to, and though it’s kind of weird, I think you-being the Alpha and werewolf connections- are the closest thing.”
When he ended his long advice session, his tone was more serious than Derek usually heard it.
“Maybe just try talking…it could at least give you some ideas?” He rubbed his hands together and his easy casual voice was back in place, “but like that’s all I got. Sorry bro.”
Derek didn’t like this. It wasn’t until he finished that he realized how much he didn’t like being here right now. He didn’t like the fact that he had spent over an hour talking with probably the most annoying kid on the planet in the back of a police station.
He also didn’t like that they just had a…friendly conversation. It was weird. It was different. He didn’t feel like an older man who had been through hell talking to a young boy who still had the world ahead of him. He didn’t feel like he towered over him and held this power that could make Stiles shake in fear.
Those feelings…just weren’t there, and Derek really didn’t like it.
He shifted in his position and grumbled, “I didn’t ask for advice.”
Stiles face made that disbelieving one. His wide-open mouth, narrowed eyes, and wrinkled forehead one. It was also the same one that made him raise his arms as if they were another sentence all on their own. He usually made it right before he started a rant about how incredulous the previous statement was.
But instead he bit his lip and bobbed his head before saying, “well that’s what you got.”
Derek left shortly after.
__________________________________
He tried to ignore Stiles’ ‘advice’. He really did. But when he saw his pack next all he heard was the obnoxious voice in his head repeating the same words over and over. He couldn’t look at them without hearing his words.
He opted to deal with Isaac first, because giving Erica and Boyd any sort of sex talk was not something he had mentally prepared himself for. Or would ever really be.
It was during one of Isaac lows that he caught him. He was sulking in the corner, phone clutched in his hand and eyes looking down at it waiting impatiently for it to buzz.
Isaac adjusted his personality for everyone he talked to. With Erica and Boyd he tried to be this confident, bad ass, who was willing to get in trouble and not give a damn. With Scott he was this sensitive friendly open different kid, and with Stiles he was defensive and there was always a bitter undertone in his words.
With Derek, he was cowardly and the perfect definition of a beta.
“You’re not training.” Derek started gruffly, awkwardly. How did one actually go about those things? Stiles had not really been specific on those details.
Isaac’s eyes only flickered up briefly to Derek before hanging down again. “Yeah…’m not in the mood.”
It took every ounce of Derek’s self-restraint not to start yelling at Isaac that he couldn’t just ‘not be in the mood’. What would he do when the Alpha’s attacked and he wasn’t in the mood? Absolutely ridiculous. But he knew screaming would not be the best course of action.
So as awkwardly as possible, he slid down in a squat next to Isaac, and cleared his throat. “Is there a uh reason?”
For a minute, a brief hopeful minute, Derek believed Isaac would not admit to whatever was bothering him. But as Stiles would explain from months of Scott experience, whenever someone was lovesick they would always want to talk about it.
He looked at Derek with the saddest expression he had seen on his face since Derek found him in that graveyard. “Derek have you ever,” he seemed to be searching for the word, “liked someone?” He fiddled with his phone in his lap, “like really liked someone?”
Of course he had. He had been in love with a hunter who had broke his heart, and burned down his house. He wasn’t sure if that was the response Isaac was looking for.
He leaned his head back against the wall, and answered, “yes” with no elaboration on the subject.
His answer didn’t really seem vital to Isaac’s current state; Derek wasn’t even sure if he heard him. “It sucks really sucks.”
It was true what Stiles said about lovesick people, they didn’t take much prying. Isaac continued without Derek even having to question.
He kept fiddling with his phone and refused to meet eye contact, “because like it’s terrible, and he doesn’t even realize anything. I mean when we hang out, it’s just like it seems like he…”
“I mean, I guess I should’ve know-he isn’t into guys. It makes sense an’ all but he’s just really.” Isaac buried his face in his hands and then slid them down slowly rubbing his eyes in the process. “Confusing.”
Derek didn’t know what to say back. This was not a situation he could begin to compare to; Derek had never had any attraction towards the same sex before, or at least he never thought he had. He guessed it just wasn’t something he thought about.
It wasn’t like he went through thinking about the different men he knew, and whether he would be attracted to them or not. He had only been spending time with Peter, Boyd, Scott, and Isaac. None of them seemed remotely appealing.
Well, there was Stiles too, more recently he had seen. But Stiles was different, Stiles was like a different species. Stiles wasn’t normal.
He was losing focus.
They just sat there for a while. Stiles hadn’t really covered the actual giving advice section. Isaac eventually became embarrassed over the situation and excused himself with a blush spread to the back of his next.
Well, this was more problematic than he originally imagined.
__________________________________________________
Derek went back to Stiles at the same time the next day. This time he came with a bag of his own laundry. He saw a similar sight from before of Stiles chasing after his father and the other officers, but being left behind.
This time he yelled what looked like a “come on!” behind them.
When they were completely out of sight Derek came out from behind the wall with a bag of clothes and a stiff stance. Stiles gave him a once over before huffing and focusing on the bag.
“That better not be for here, because I will not even start to tell you how unbelievable that is.”
Derek threw the bag at him, which Stiles sloppily caught, and it knocked him back a few steps. “Oh my god. You are so one of those people who cross traffic without looking both ways and expecting people to stop for you.”
Derek made a face at him with his arms flexed and crossed over his chest.
Stiles wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue between his teeth, “fine. Fine. I hope you end up creating a traffic jam for a very important governor or presidential person who tracks you down and exposes your sketchy life pattern.”
Stiles opened the door and Derek filed in behind him, and in his mock offended voice responded, “none of my activities are,” he spoke the next word as if it was in a foreign language, “’sketchy’”.
Stiles looked at him like he just said that pigs could ice skate and then in mid jump grow wings and fly. “Derek, you house three teenagers and a man who is supposed to be dead in a burnt down home. You are about as sketchy as it gets.”
Derek couldn’t find an argument back.
Stiles repeated the same series of actions as he did before. When he sat on top of the vibrating machine Derek decided it was time to reveal what happened previously. He shortened what happened into one sentence, “Isaac seems to have…feelings for another boy, who does not return them.”
Even though this sentence was simpler than the lengthy speech Derek had given before, but the pause that followed was longer. When at least five minutes passed, Stiles reply was quiet and barely heard over the washing machine.
“Oh.” That, was a little too short of a reply for Stiles.
Derek was expecting some sort of advice. He was expecting the same thing as before; that’s what he came here for.
Instead Stiles rubbed his hands along his jeans and did not make eye contact. “That’s rough. Um it’s not easy to like someone that who doesn’t…” He looked more uncomfortable than Derek had ever seen him. “Who is a guy...”
When he looked up, Stiles eyes were not their usual bright, vibrant, expressive selves. Instead they were dull and his mouth was in a tight thin frown. He kept moving his hands and kicking his feet-his entire body was uneasy.
“I don’t know what to tell you. There’s really no way of fixing that…I don’t think you can uh help.”
Derek made a noise of somewhere between a snort and a sigh, “you act like you know.”
There was that same silence. The machine started to make its occasional ferocious roaring noise. Stiles’ unplugging and re-plugging the machine usually fixed this. This time, however, he did not. After a couple of minutes (in which Derek supposed he should’ve said something) he slid off the machine, and pulled Derek’s laundry out.
He handed Derek the clothing in a wet still dirty mess and his voice cracked when he spoke, “you know I should really fix that, uh maybe you should come by later.”
Stiles looked…small like this. Even though, yeah, he wasn’t the most confident kid-he acted like he had confidence but this-he wasn’t even trying. It made Derek feel…bad.
It was about then that Derek thought that he said something.
________________________________________________________________
He knew that he did something wrong when Stiles was not at the station the next two days he went. On the third, he began to actual think about what happened. On the fourth, he finally put things together.
Stiles had feelings for a guy that’s why he was so knowledgeable about the subject, clearly that’s what Derek missed and should’ve said something.
Isaac had feelings for a guy, they both had feelings for each other, but they weren’t aware of it. Maybe he should’ve put that together before, but Jesus Christ Derek’s life was not supposed to be a television show.
If they were to solve whatever muddled mess the two had going on then things would be better right? Derek would have at least one member of the pack back.
Derek approached Peter about this plan. Because if there was one person who always liked to scheme it was Peter Hale, and this particular scheme had him grinning like a maniac.
But really, his smile practically split his face in half, and it was probably one of the most terrifying things Derek had ever seen.
Before he started to create his plan, he asked Derek a strange question.
“And you’re okay with this?”
This was cryptic even for Peter. Not only was it confusing, but also it made Derek feel like this was something he should be indecisive about. Peter usually did know not a more moral route, but a more efficient. But any hint of weakness Peter would take as an opportunity to take the situation, control it, and expedite it into something purely for his pleasure.
So in all the assurance of an Alpha he answered, “yes of course.”
Peter’s smile widened and he swiveled back to his laptop.
Derek didn’t realize that Peter was even more observant than he gave off. Not only was he more observant but also he was also far more twisted than he let off. Because even if Derek thought his life was like a television show before, he had no idea that it was about to become the difficult soap opera he could even think of.
Plans never really worked out the way he intended, and by the end of the day tomorrow this entire thing would be one of his biggest regrets. Right now though, he didn’t know anything that would happen in the future. The only think going through his head was one question.
Why would Peter even ask him that?
He had no problem with Isaac and Stiles getting together. It would help his pack, why wouldn’t he be okay with that?
There as nothing wrong. He was doing the right thing.
Right?
Part 2