Freak Storms and Hot Chocolate (Teen Wolf. Derek/Jackson. 1/1)
Title: Freak Storms and Hot Chocolate
Fandom: Teen Wolf.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore; Mentions of Scott McCall/Allison Argent and the rest of the gang.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 780.
Spoiler(s)/Warning(s): A Few Choice Words. General Spoilers. I don't think anything explicit but they are some brief mentions to current events in Season Two.
Author Notes: Written for This prompt at comment_fic. I'm still trying to find my voice for the characters so i apologize for any OOCness.
All mistakes are my own as I don't have a beta.
It’s just his luck that California gets hit with a freak snowstorm the day Derek decides to push him to his limit. The Alpha has him running laps in the woods surrounding the burnt Hale house. Jackson wonders what he’s done now to warrant the ‘run until you can barely stand anymore’ training. He doesn’t see any of the other pack members out there with him. Hell McCall is probably cozying up to Allison at that very moment, doing that hopeless romantic shit and just staring out a window as they watch the snow fall. He doesn’t even know what the new recruits are up too and to hell if he can figure out what Stiles is doing.
Jackson stops at the base of the stairs leading to the Hale House to catch his breath, cursing Derek for his heartless methods of training. He doesn’t care that the Alpha can hear him, nor does he care that the rest of the pack can as well. He’ll damn Derek to hell and back again until the older man stops torturing for whatever it is he did.
Squaring his shoulders, the blonde enters the house, half expecting Derek to be standing at the top of the worn down flight of stairs with some type of overbearing smirk on his lips. He shakes himself of the snow that stuck to his skin and groans at the fact that his clothing was damp. Derek owe him for this.
“Derek?” he calls, dusting off more snow from his shoulder.
A low growl came from somewhere off to his side, “in the kitchen.”
Jackson turned and headed towards the kitchen. He stared at the blacken room in distaste, “you owe me a new outfit. That damn snow ruined these.”
Derek only arched a brow in response, taking a sip of the steaming cup in his hand before he pushed another towards the blonde. Wary of the drink, Jackson slowly pulled it towards him, fully aware of the Alpha’s eyes on him. He blinked at the cup, surprised to see hot chocolate.
“What’s this for?”
The Alpha remained focused straight ahead, “You drink it.”
Jackson snorted, “no shit.”
Derek rolled his shoulder, turning his intimidating stare to the younger man, hazel eyes traveling over his body, “you’re shivering.”
The blond’s brow rose, he hadn’t even realized he was cold. At least not until it was pointed out to him, his eyes narrowed slightly, “Yeah and I wonder whose fault that is.You and your fucking training. Who the hell makes someone run for hours in the fucking snow.”
Red eyes flashed in his direction as a warning for his tone and Jackson tried not to make it too obvious that he was actually scared. He swallowed the lump in his throat that came whenever Derek gave him that intense stare. Braving up, he squared his shoulders, shifting in the chair he’d sat on to get into a more comfortable position.
“Why am I cold anyway? Shouldn’t I be like a walk furnace?” Jackson half-joked.
Derek chuckled against the rim of his mug, “You aren’t exactly the poster boy for a normal werewolf.”
Jackson scowled, not liking the fact that Derek always liked to remind him of all the troubles he had faced to get where he was today. Between the bite failing and his body trying to fight off the one thing he had wanted more than anything in the world, it was a enough to drive him mad.
Instead of facing the cocky smirk he knew to be playing on the older man’s lips, he tried to focus on the cup of hot chocolate in front him. He still hadn’t taken a sip from it and from the slight chill he just felt, he was thinking maybe he should. Tentatively, he wrapped his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth that spread through his palms. Jackson brought it up to his nose and sniffed, he could feel Derek rolling his eyes at the action but he wouldn’t exactly hold it pass the Alpha to try and poison him. Deeming it safe enough, Jackson took his first sip. It was warm, not scalding hot, thank God.
He smacked his lips together and took another sip, feeling Derek’s eyes bearing into him, “Not bad.”
The older man made a content noise and before Jackson could utter another word, his chair was dragged as close as possible to the Alpha. Derek’s arm coming to rest around his shoulders, providing just a bit more warmth. Jackson tensed, this was still all new to him, but he was sure this was a normal reaction when you were the Alpha’s bitch, literally.
End.
Fandom: Teen Wolf.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore; Mentions of Scott McCall/Allison Argent and the rest of the gang.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters used
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 780.
Spoiler(s)/Warning(s): A Few Choice Words. General Spoilers. I don't think anything explicit but they are some brief mentions to current events in Season Two.
Author Notes: Written for This prompt at comment_fic. I'm still trying to find my voice for the characters so i apologize for any OOCness.
All mistakes are my own as I don't have a beta.
It’s just his luck that California gets hit with a freak snowstorm the day Derek decides to push him to his limit. The Alpha has him running laps in the woods surrounding the burnt Hale house. Jackson wonders what he’s done now to warrant the ‘run until you can barely stand anymore’ training. He doesn’t see any of the other pack members out there with him. Hell McCall is probably cozying up to Allison at that very moment, doing that hopeless romantic shit and just staring out a window as they watch the snow fall. He doesn’t even know what the new recruits are up too and to hell if he can figure out what Stiles is doing.
Jackson stops at the base of the stairs leading to the Hale House to catch his breath, cursing Derek for his heartless methods of training. He doesn’t care that the Alpha can hear him, nor does he care that the rest of the pack can as well. He’ll damn Derek to hell and back again until the older man stops torturing for whatever it is he did.
Squaring his shoulders, the blonde enters the house, half expecting Derek to be standing at the top of the worn down flight of stairs with some type of overbearing smirk on his lips. He shakes himself of the snow that stuck to his skin and groans at the fact that his clothing was damp. Derek owe him for this.
“Derek?” he calls, dusting off more snow from his shoulder.
A low growl came from somewhere off to his side, “in the kitchen.”
Jackson turned and headed towards the kitchen. He stared at the blacken room in distaste, “you owe me a new outfit. That damn snow ruined these.”
Derek only arched a brow in response, taking a sip of the steaming cup in his hand before he pushed another towards the blonde. Wary of the drink, Jackson slowly pulled it towards him, fully aware of the Alpha’s eyes on him. He blinked at the cup, surprised to see hot chocolate.
“What’s this for?”
The Alpha remained focused straight ahead, “You drink it.”
Jackson snorted, “no shit.”
Derek rolled his shoulder, turning his intimidating stare to the younger man, hazel eyes traveling over his body, “you’re shivering.”
The blond’s brow rose, he hadn’t even realized he was cold. At least not until it was pointed out to him, his eyes narrowed slightly, “Yeah and I wonder whose fault that is.You and your fucking training. Who the hell makes someone run for hours in the fucking snow.”
Red eyes flashed in his direction as a warning for his tone and Jackson tried not to make it too obvious that he was actually scared. He swallowed the lump in his throat that came whenever Derek gave him that intense stare. Braving up, he squared his shoulders, shifting in the chair he’d sat on to get into a more comfortable position.
“Why am I cold anyway? Shouldn’t I be like a walk furnace?” Jackson half-joked.
Derek chuckled against the rim of his mug, “You aren’t exactly the poster boy for a normal werewolf.”
Jackson scowled, not liking the fact that Derek always liked to remind him of all the troubles he had faced to get where he was today. Between the bite failing and his body trying to fight off the one thing he had wanted more than anything in the world, it was a enough to drive him mad.
Instead of facing the cocky smirk he knew to be playing on the older man’s lips, he tried to focus on the cup of hot chocolate in front him. He still hadn’t taken a sip from it and from the slight chill he just felt, he was thinking maybe he should. Tentatively, he wrapped his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth that spread through his palms. Jackson brought it up to his nose and sniffed, he could feel Derek rolling his eyes at the action but he wouldn’t exactly hold it pass the Alpha to try and poison him. Deeming it safe enough, Jackson took his first sip. It was warm, not scalding hot, thank God.
He smacked his lips together and took another sip, feeling Derek’s eyes bearing into him, “Not bad.”
The older man made a content noise and before Jackson could utter another word, his chair was dragged as close as possible to the Alpha. Derek’s arm coming to rest around his shoulders, providing just a bit more warmth. Jackson tensed, this was still all new to him, but he was sure this was a normal reaction when you were the Alpha’s bitch, literally.
End.