Fic: Don't Want To Be Misunderstood (Teen Wolf, Sterek)

[theron09]

Title: Don’t Want To Be Misunderstood
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some swearing? Set after 3B so spoilers for that, although it’s not mentioned much.
Word Count: 3, 617
Summary: When a rogue omega comes to Beacon Hills, Stiles can't help but notice that Derek's acting a little strange.
A/N: Written for a beacon_hills challenge. Thanks to seraphina_snape for the beta!



It’s at times like this that Stiles really hates his own curiosity, the innate instinct he’s always had that pushed him to investigate, to learn, when something spikes his interest. If he didn’t possess that particular trait, Stiles is fairly sure there’s no way he’d be awake at three in the morning reading up about symbols of the occult instead of sleeping in his nice, warm bed. Tomorrow - later today, actually - he has to go to school and get through a whole day of lessons and there’s nothing he can do about the latest problem the pack is having until after that. So there’s no real reason why he should still be awake now, following a lead that the others don’t even think is a lead.

Except, he’s Stiles. It’s what he does.

“You should be asleep,” his dad says from the door to Stiles’ room, startling him. Stiles hadn’t even heard his dad get in from his late shift.

“I should be.” He nods. “I should be asleep, resting up for school tomorrow and the only thing I should be worrying about is whether Coach will surprise us with an Econ test. Unfortunately, we live in a world where werewolves exist and are my friends so… here I am. Awake. At three in the morning.”

Sighing, his dad gives Stiles the look he always does when reminded of the existence of the supernatural. “This is about the body they found, isn’t it? The one with all the scratches.”

“Yep.”

A moment’s pause, and then. “You’d have more chance of being asleep if you were actually in your bed, with the light out. That’s all I’m saying. Try it.”

His dad leaves, pulling the bedroom door shut behind him, and Stiles sighs, rubbing at his eyes. It’s not as easy as just trying when he can’t switch his mind off.

“He’s right, you know.”

“Jesus.” Stiles jumps, almost falling out of his chair, and spins around to glare at Derek, who is currently climbing in though his window. “I thought we covered the whole no entry to my bedroom through my window thing months ago.”

Shrugging, Derek leans back against the wall. “It’s late - I didn’t know if your dad would be in bed already. He’s right - you should be sleeping.”

“I should know what this symbol is, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

Tilting his head, Derek shrugs. “It’s just some mark you found - I don’t recognise it, Argent didn’t recognise it, neither did Peter. Sometimes a mark is just a mark. You should be sleeping.”

“So go away and let me.”

“I will do, now I’ve seen everything’s as close to normal as it gets here.”

Stiles pulls a face - Derek’s one to talk. “What do you mean ‘as close to normal’? Should I be insulted? I think I’m insulted.”

“Don’t be dramatic. I picked up that scent again, followed it, and it goes right past this house. Figured I should make sure you hadn’t been mauled to death.”

“Aw, you care.” Stiles is only half-joking; Derek’s still got a gruff exterior, but over the last couple of months Stiles has witnessed his softer side a number of times. Truth is, Derek does care about the group of teenagers he calls pack.

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m not sure why I bothered.”

“Well, neither do I - I’m fine, except maybe I’m going to need to start locking my window.” He gives Derek a pointed look, and then turns away to look for a book he needs.

Derek stares right back at him. “You should be doing that anyway, after everything.”

“Okay, thank you, Mr. Security Expert. Going to let me get some sleep now, then, seeing as it’s so important?”

When he turns back around to face Derek, he gets his answer -because Derek is already gone again. “Wolves,” Stiles mutters under his breath, before returning to his research. He’ll sleep in a little while.

~~
“And you’re sure it was the omega’s scent?” asks Scott, for the fourth time, pacing up and down outside the old Hale house. They’ve taken to meeting there lately, where they’re away from curious eyes and less likely to be overheard.

Stiles watches Derek’s mouth as it twists in annoyance - Scott’s thorough, Derek’s impatient; it makes for interesting interactions.

“I’m positive. It was the same as the other night, except stronger because it didn’t rain this time.” Derek sighs. “But it just went round in circles, to one place and then another and then another.”

Lydia purses her lips, thoughtfully, before speaking. “How many places in all?”

“Five, maybe six.”

“Well,” she says, “we should check them out. The omega might be staying at one of them.”

Scott nods. “It makes sense to split up, then - a couple of us each take a place and we call everyone else if we think there’s something going on there.”

Stiles sits up a little straighter on the step he’s been perched on, because he can see where this is going and he’s pretty sure where this is going is an uncomfortable place. “Hang on…”

But it’s too late, and five minutes later Derek’s sitting in the passenger seat of Stiles’ jeep, directing him towards a warehouse that Stiles really hopes will be empty so they can join the others shortly. It’s not that he doesn’t like Derek - in fact, he does like Derek now, maybe a little too much, and that’s the problem. Stiles has an inkling Scott’s worked it out, and resolved to put his friend in as many awkward situations as possible.

When they get to the warehouse, Derek confirms that it’s empty inside, although he can still smell the omega’s scent quite strongly. Stiles wants to leave it at that, re-join the others before he embarrasses himself, as he always does in front of Derek, but there’s a really annoying part of him - the part of himself that makes sure he tries to do what is right - that won’t let him.

“We should stick around for a while,” he suggests instead, “in case our friend comes back. This could be a base. I mean, it’s pretty central, creepy, abandoned. You’d have stayed here, wouldn’t you?”

Derek nods, scowling. “Find a place to keep watch, then - an omega’s not going to enter its base with the two of us in plain sight.”

~~
Stiles hates being a mostly good person; if he had fewer morals, he could be comfortably at home right now instead of stuck hiding in a bush waiting for a possibly evil werewolf with the potential to kill him easily. To make it worse, he’s been hiding in a bush in the rain for two hours now, and there’s been no sign of anything suspicious at all.

He’d spent the first ten or so minutes watching Derek watch the warehouse, until he’d remembered the reason he was positioned where he was had a lot to do with Derek not being able to see the side entrance of the building from where he was hiding. Wouldn’t do to let the omega sneak by because he was busy crushing on Derek - would be a hard one to explain away, too.

Two hours is a long time to keep watch with nothing happening, though, especially for someone like him who gets bored ridiculously easily. Stiles shifts around so he can see Derek, and whistles (not ironically, because dog jokes were so last year) to get the werewolf’s attention. They’re too far away to talk properly, though, and the rain would make it harder to lip read, so Stiles just gestures with his hands, pointing at first himself, then Derek, and making a we should go motion with his fist. The rain makes it hard to see, but Stiles just about makes out Derek’s eyes widening - why, he’s not sure - before he nods. Stiles stands up, ready to go, and then frowns when he sees Derek still hasn’t moved. Stubborn.

Shaking his head, Stiles walks over towards Derek’s hiding spot, nodding his approval when Derek pushes himself up off the ground. “There’s
nothing happening here - let’s go back and meet the others, see if they found something?”

“Sure.” Derek grins, teeth showing. “Whatever you want.”

Stiles makes a happy little humming noise at the thought of getting somewhere warm, and turns back towards his jeep. “I knew you could be accommodating when you wanted to be.”

“Oh,” Derek says, clearing his throat, “I want to be.”

“Of course,” says Stiles. After all, he can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t want to get out of this rain.

~~
They’re the last to reach Scott’s house, where everyone has agreed to meet, and Stiles scowls at his friends, who all look like they’ve managed to avoid the worst of the rain - as opposed to himself, who looks half-drowned.

“Did you have fun?” Lydia sing-songs, smirk playing around her lips when Stiles huffs in response.

“No. We, however, had the integrity to do our job despite the rain.”

Next to him, Derek snorts, and it should sound a bit disgusting but it’s surprisingly sexy and when Stiles turns around to look at him, Derek’s standing very close to him and he has to fight the urge to smell him which, Stiles realises, isn’t supposed to be that strong a human instinct. Besides, he’s sure him smelling Derek would be even creepier than the fact Derek’s standing in such close proximity to another person without giving it a thought.

“Did you guys have any luck?” asks Kira, twisting a stand of her hair with her fingers. “You were gone quite a while.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but Derek and I just figured we should wait around for a bit and see if anyone showed up. They didn’t. Only thing that showed up was a whole lot of rain.”

“Obviously,” Scott grins, glancing between the two of them. “Rain.”

Kira gives Scott a look that Stiles can’t quite decipher, and then voices an idea that Stiles has been considering, too. “Maybe you were supposed to pick up that scent last night, Derek. Maybe the omega wanted to confuse us, or distract us.”

“It’s possible,” says Derek, “but I don’t think so. Omega’s tend to be pretty weak, focused on surviving, not playing tricks.”

At the reference to tricks, everyone’s eyes unconsciously flicker towards Stiles, and he curls in on himself a little. Six months have passed since the nogitsune was defeated, but Stiles still feels very raw about the whole experience, even if he’s good at hiding it. He expects Scott to come to his rescue, distract everyone, but someone else gets there first.

“Sorry.” Derek nudges him in the side, scowling at everyone else until they look away. “Anyway, my point stands.”

Stiles pulls a face. “Maybe - what if it’s not an omega? What if it’s something else that does like playing tricks. That symbol…” he trails off, not sure what he can say when he still hasn’t managed to find out what the symbol is.

Lydia shakes her head. “It smells like an omega - all the wolves think so.”

“Well, then, someone else come up with a theory because I’m all out.” Stiles folds his arms across his chest, not caring if it makes him look like he’s throwing a tantrum. “I don’t know where this thing is, why it’s here, or what to do about it.”

“I don’t think any of us do,” Scott says, voice quiet but steady. “We’ll figure it out, though.”

“You will.” Melissa’s standing in the doorway, and up until now she’s been silent. “For now, you should all go home, do your homework - spend a few hours just being normal kids. Maybe not thinking about the problem will actually make the solution clearer.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “good idea.” It’s not like him to back off a problem, but Kira’s still looking at him strangely, like she always does when the nogitsune is mentioned, and he’s been put on edge by the mention of what happened to him.

Derek straightens up next to him. “I’ll make sure you get home okay.”

“Uh, why?” Derek’s never done that before.

“Because, Stiles, there’s a rogue omega on the loose who passed your house last night and whose scent you’ve been helping to track all day. If it gets your scent and decides to investigate-”

“Derek’s right,” Scott interrupts, “we all need to stay safe. Derek, you get Stiles home, I’ll take Lydia.”

“What about Kira?” Lydia asks, even though Stiles is pretty sure she knows the answer. Lydia enjoys making people uncomfortable on occasion.

Scott’s blushing a little as Stiles follows Derek out of the door. “Kira’s staying a while longer.”

He doesn’t get to hear Lydia’s response to that, as Derek leads him back towards the jeep. Mostly since he’s busy staring at Derek’s ass because, well, it’s not like Derek can see him do it.

“You got your keys?” asks Derek, turning around so suddenly that Stiles walks into him.

Stiles steps backwards, cheeks flushing. “Sorry, clumsy of me. They’re here somewhere.” And if he fumbles for his keys, rambles a little as he looks for them, well, Stiles figures Derek will just chalk it up to him being his usual flaily self.

~~
When Stiles gets inside his dad is already there - back on time, for once, from his shift - and they sit down to eat together. It’s a while since they’ve managed to be around at the same time for a meal, between his dad’s job and Stiles’ own hectic life, and he finds himself almost forgetting about their omega problem as his dad tells him about his latest cases at work. It’s nice, relaxing, and Stiles thinks he might actually manage to get some sleep that night - right up until the moment his dad’s phone goes off.

“We’ve had another one,” the sheriff says, once he’s hung up, “body all scratched up like the one you were looking into. They found her near the library. Should I be more worried than I already am?”

Stiles places his knife and fork down on the table, standing up. “I don’t think so, no - as far as we know it’s just an omega. One that can take down humans, but shouldn’t stand a chance against the pack.”

“Once you find it?”

“Once we find it,” Stiles confirms. “I’m going to call Scott, get everyone down to the crime scene - we’ll be subtle, I promise - and see if any of them can pick up the scent.”

He calls Scott, rushes upstairs to gather supplies, and then hurries outside where he promptly spots Derek leaning against the jeep. “That was quick,” he says.

Derek frowns. “What was?”

“You getting here after Scott phoned you. Duh. Come on, let’s go.”

Derek climbs silently into the passenger seat as Stiles starts the engine and, all the way to the library, the engine is the only noise in the car. Stiles turns to Derek at one point, meaning to say something, but the werewolf looks so focused, eyebrows knitted in concentration, that Stiles decides against interrupting him.

Finally, as they pull up near the crime scene, Derek speaks. “I can smell it,” he says, “even from inside this thing.”

“Good. That gives us a chance.” Stiles gets out, feet thudding against the pavement as he lands, and looks around for Scott. He spots him, already standing with Lydia, Kira, and Chris Argent, and relaxes slightly. They’re really quite a formidable group - one omega shouldn’t stand much of a chance.

It’s only later, when he’s standing watching the omega thrash around, lashing out dangerously at Scott, that Stiles realises he may have underestimated the situation. The clearing they’ve tracked the omega to is familiar to the pack, and should give them the advantage, but Kira’s already been thrown to the ground and even Derek, experienced as he is, has taken a couple of punches.

“Come on, move,” Argent mutters from his position next to Stiles, “move out of the way and I can get a clear shot.”

“Scott won’t move,” says Stiles, watching as his best friend attempts to placate the omega, “not if there’s a chance he can talk it down instead of letting you kill him.”

“He’s going to get himself hurt.”

Stiles is inclined to agree with the hunter as he watches Scott double over in pain after being kicked in the stomach. He doesn’t realise he’s moved forwards to help - stupid, he’s just a human, after all - until the omega turns to look in his direction, teeth bared. “Oh, crap,” he says, and then he’s knocked down, heavy weight landing on top of him. This is it, he knows, the moment he dies or, perhaps inevitably, gets turned, and then a hand touches his cheek. He opens his eyes to see that it’s Derek, who’s landed on top of him. A couple of feet away, Scott and Chris are struggling to restrain the omega, but Stiles doesn’t watch for long before he’s drawn back to look at Derek.

“We’ll talk later,” Derek says, in the softest tone Stiles has ever heard him use, before he lifts himself up off of Stiles to go and help contain the omega.

Stiles pushes himself up off the ground, and goes to help Lydia help Kira back to their vehicles.

“You okay?” asks Lydia, looking at him like he’s strange.

He nods. “An omega’s got super-strength, Derek’s acting more weird than usual, but we’re all alive so I guess yes?”

“We’ll talk later.” Lydia smiles at him, probably meaning to be comforting. But all her words do is make Stiles glance back towards Derek, and wonder what’s going on.

~~
The omega is taken to Deaton’s for examination, and Stiles takes up an unusual spot - for him - in the corner of the room as explanations are given and the relief starts to sink in for everyone; this particular problem is dealt with.

The thing is, Stiles can’t stop thinking about Derek’s weight on top of him. At the time, Stiles had been panicking, worrying about his friends. But now, Stiles has time to think, and fantasise, and then panic some more about why Derek wants to talk to him - because his fantasies are just that, fantasies, and it’s most likely that Derek wants to tell him off for something. Stiles is just not quite sure what he’s done wrong this time. Man, he doesn’t even want to imagine what he could have messed up.

Instead, he focuses on Scott - always a calming influence - as the true alpha apologises to the omega, who just scowls in response, for hurting him. Scott’s unwillingness to hurt even people who perhaps deserve it sometimes is one of the reasons he’s such a good alpha and friend, and it makes Stiles smile to witness it. His smile disappears, though, when someone steps in front of him and he realises it’s Derek.

“I’ll walk you home,” Derek says, and Stiles just nods.

It’s only when they’re half-way back to Stiles’ place that he realises the threat is sitting restrained in Deaton’s office and there’d not actually been any need for the escort home. “What do you want to talk about?” he blurts out, and then resists the urge to slap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from talking any more.

Derek stops walking, grabbing Stiles’ arm to make him do the same, manoeuvring him so that they’re standing facing each other. For a moment, Derek looks like he’s struggling to say something, and his lip quivers ever so slightly, forehead wrinkling in a frown. And then the werewolf sighs, muscles relaxing, and just pulls Stiles in closer, and closer, and closer until-

Stiles splutters against Derek’s lips - his lovely, soft but firm lips that he’s has been thinking about a lot lately - until the werewolf pulls back. “Woah, woah. What are you doing? What was that for?” Stiles demands, wincing at how harsh he sounds to his own ears; it’s not like he didn’t want Derek to kiss him.

“Kissing you, obviously.” Derek smirks, looking pleased with himself.

Stiles nods. “Yes, I understand that part - but why?”

The look on Derek’s face falters a little. “The other day, you gave the impression that-”

“That I wanted you to kiss me?” Stiles frowns, trying to work out when he couldn’t have done that. “I don’t - when did I do that?”

“At the warehouse, when you signalled with your fist in a way that was kind of inappropriate in a public setting.” Derek’s sentence starts out quite firm, but ends more like a question than anything else.

Stiles thinks back; he knows he was pretty tired after their stake-out, soaked through to the bone and desperate to get away. It’s ever so possible he might have accidentally made a lewd hand signal instead of a professional one. “Oh, that was - it wasn’t supposed to be-”

Derek takes a quick step back. “It wasn’t. In that case, I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

“No.” This time, it’s Stiles who grabs Derek’s arm, gripping as tightly as he can. The werewolf could probably pull away easily if he wanted to but he lets Stiles hold on, looking at him warily. “You, erm, may have discovered that I’m rubbish at hand signals, but me? I just discovered through your misunderstanding of my hand signals that I actually stand a chance with you. So kiss me.”

“What?”

Grinning, Stiles raises a finger to his own lips, then moves to rest it on Derek’s mouth, tracing the outline of Derek’s lips slowly. “Kiss me. That clear enough for you?”

“More than,” says Derek, before covering Stiles’ mouth with his own.