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Fairies.
That's right, friggin fairies. Of all the things to get caught up in it was little winged people with really sharp teeth and actual fairy dust. But the thing about fairies? They were vicious little shits. Oh sure, there were some that were nice and helpful and whatever, but not these little bastards. It'd all started when one of the betas (probably Jackson, that asshole) accidentally ran onto what was considered a patch of their sacred ground and they had demanded retribution for the sullyment of their land.
Derek, better now as an Alpha than he had been in the beginning had apologized on behalf of his beta, who hadn't known any better - in fact none of them did. No one had bothered to tell Derek that they shared land with a bunch of fairies. Though technically not really considering the fairy Court lived in their own dimensional space whatever and never really ventured into the mortal realm. But it just so happened that both being supernatural creatures, their worlds could sometimes collide.
Which, lovely, but whatever. Not the point.
The point was the fairy Queen pretty much wanted Jackson's head on a platter and Derek wasn't giving it up, which props for him because if it'd been Stiles he would have handed Jackson over gagged and bound. Okay maybe not really, but he could pretend.
Of course, like usual it was Stiles to the rescue. With a flamethrower and a bag of mountain ash he got from Deaton. He had done all sorts of research, combing through Google, Wikipedia and the Bestiary he still had a copy of. It seemed fairies were deadly allergic to fire. At least these ones were.
So when the pack showed up at the requested time to try to come to some sort of agreement or arrangement that didn't result in Jackson's death, Stiles got the flamethrower ready, because this was not going to go down well. The Queen wanted Jackson dead for defiling their sacred ground and she was not going to take no for an answer.
And again, like usual, when all hell broke loose that's when Stiles leapt from the frying pan into the fire, so to speak. Except it hadn't gone quite as planned. One of the fae from the Queen's court had caught sight of him with the damn thing, still trying to turn it on, and attacked him.
He was pretty damn tired of being thrown into things, okay, really now. His back ached where it hit the tree and damn, their fairy magic was strong as shit. But he finally got the flamethrower working and before it could cast another spell he burnt it to a crisp. Which pretty much caught everything's attention, fae and werewolf alike.
Oh, Derek was so not thrilled with him, but he kept pushing. Eventually the fairies retreated by use of the fire and Stiles had used the mountain ash to close the doorway between the human and fairy worlds for good. When it was all said and done, the pack was still whole and only a small bit of land was scorched from the fire, the fairy bodies disintegrating into dust now that their magic from the fae world was closed off.
Derek grabbed Stiles by the arm and hauled him off to the Camaro, telling the others to go home and get some rest, that Jackson should thank Stiles later for saving his ass. The teen looked annoyed but still grateful, so he counted it as a win.
They were both silent on the way home and Stiles wondered when the blow up would come, because it would. Derek always seemed ten times more agitated whenever Stiles got hurt. He tried not to read too much into it but it always happened, without fail, every time. More often than not Stiles tried to brush it off as it was their thing, the whole saving each other deal, it was what they did. But more and more it was beginning to feel less and less like that's what it was.
Stiles was more than aware of his own growing feelings for Derek, they'd been growing for the better part of a year now and he knew on some level Derek knew, either by werewolf intuition or scent, because there were times Derek had to know what Stiles thought whenever he'd catch sight of him and the pack running around half naked during training.
Derek never said a word (thank god) but never did anything about it either. So Stiles took it to mean Derek wasn't interested but wasn't going to be an ass and make a big deal out of it, which he was thankful for. But sometimes - sometimes it felt that there was more to it than that. Like tonight, when he'd been thrown into the tree he'd seen Derek's eyes flash red and his teeth bared before he had his hands full, unable to run to his aid as he had done so many times before.
When they got to Stiles' house, his dad thankfully gone into work already, Derek shifted the gear into park and turned off the engine. Okay then, Derek was coming inside. Wordlessly both young men got out of the sleek vehicle and headed up to the front door where Stiles keyed them inside. The moment they were through the door Stiles found himself shoved up against it as it slammed shut.
Well, he didn't miss this at all, nope. "Dude, the fuck?" Stiles gasped out, staring up into Derek's angry face. "The hell was that for? Is that really any way to thank me?"
"I shouldn't have to," Derek growled, pushing him harder against the door. "You shouldn't have been there, Stiles. You could have been hurt, or killed."
"Because I'm human, right? Well, asshole, this human saved your furry, wolf asses tonight," Stiles snapped, shoving Derek away from him and stalking upstairs to his room. He would have slammed the door but Derek was right there behind him, catching the door before he could.
"Yes, because you're human, Stiles. You are human and you can't heal the way we can. I can't keep splitting my attention just to make sure you stay alive," Derek said, staring the teenager down.
Stiles swallowed and tried to keep a neutral face. "So, what, you don't want me hanging around anymore? Need I remind you who keeps saving all your asses?"
"You shouldn't have to!" Derek snapped, shoving the teen back against the computer desk, rattling the contents on top. "You shouldn't be the one who keeps saving us! I'm the Alpha, Stiles, it's my job to keep the pack safe, not yours!"
Stiles got it, he did, honestly. It would look bad for the pack if their Alpha couldn't protect them where as a human could. It would look even worse to outsiders that could potentially challenge Derek if they knew. He knew that, okay, but he couldn't just stand idly by and watch his friends get hurt or killed.
"Well it's a good thing you're not my Alpha then, isn't it? I don't answer to you." Stiles said and he regretted it the moment the words were out of his mouth.
Derek reeled back like he'd been hit, his mouth thinning into a line. "You're right, Stiles. I'm not your Alpha," he said, then promptly turned and headed for the bedroom window.
Panic rose up quick and sharp as he watched the man walk away, Stiles quickly moving forward when he finally got his feet to work. "Wait, Derek, I didn't mean that. I mean - not like that. Derek!"
But the Alpha was gone, out his window and onto the ground, stalking back to his car. "Derek," Stiles tried again, knowing the man could hear him. "I didn't mean it like that, okay, I just can't sit and do nothing when you guys are out there fighting, you know that. So just, come back up here and we'll talk about this like adults, okay? Derek?"
Stiles was silent for a few moments before sighing heavily, annoyed. "I don't even get why you're so pissed, it's not like I'm part of the pack anyway. I'm just the human tag-along, remember?" There was still no answer and the teen scowled. "I can still see your car, dumbass," Stiles said, not needing to shout because he knew Derek could hear him and standing there he swore he could hear a low growl before the engine started up and the Camaro peeled out of his driveway.
Frowning, Stiles shut his window but didn't lock it even though he should. But he never did. He stood there by the window for a few moments before sighing and moving away to get cleaned up and ready for bed. After thoroughly showering and changing into some pajamas, Stiles crawled into bed and snapped his light off, laying there with his phone.
He texted Derek a few times to apologize, again - and again and again - for what he'd said, that he hadn't meant it and that it was just out of frustration and anger and what, like he's never done that before? Hello, steering wheel ring a damn bell? But he got no response.
At least not until three in the morning when he woke up to his window rattling open. Bolting upright he looked over and saw Derek standing there, cleaned up as well in just a pair of cotton pants and a t-shirt. It was probably the least dressed down he's ever seen the man outside of fighting or training.
Moving to the edge of his bed, Stiles sat up, feet on the ground as he looked at Derek standing there in his room by the window. "I'm sorry," he said, heart picking up when Derek walked toward him and it was only then that he noticed the man was barefoot. Had he run here? Drove here?
Stiles moved to stand up as Derek came to a stop in front of him but was pushed back down by a hand to his shoulder, pulse thundering in his ears. "Derek?" He asked, because he had no idea what was going on or running through the man's head. But he watched as Derek bent down and felt it as the werewolf pressed his warm mouth to Stiles own and yeah no, he certainly had not been expecting that.
He made a small sound that suddenly had Derek backing up and Stiles barely got his hand around Derek's wrist to keep him from bolting. "No! No no, don't go, it's okay, really okay, I promise," the teen babbled. "I was just surprised, but it was the good kind of surprise."
Derek stilled and watched him for a moment or two before relaxing his stance and nodding. "Okay," he murmured and when Stiles pulled Derek went willingly.
This time when they kissed it was expected and nice - very nice. Derek licked into Stiles' mouth, the teen letting out a soft groan as he opened up beneath the man's tongue, letting Derek's taste linger on his own. It was the best kiss ever, much better than their first.
Stiles pulled away, moved back onto his bed again and beckoned Derek to follow. This was all new territory to him and likely to Derek too, but he was pleased when the man crawled into bed with him. Stiles was practically buzzing with excitement to know that Derek, it seemed at least, returned his affections - or his attraction at the very least.
Laying down under the covers he waited for Derek to settle with him. They were both quiet, breath soft in the silence of the room before Stiles spoke up.
"I really am sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean it, I was just frustrated and upset. I may not be part of the pack or anything but... I do consider you my Alpha."
It must have been the right thing to say judging by the soft sound Derek made before he rolled over onto Stiles under the covers, pinning him down with his weight. His arms pressed into the mattress, Stiles' head between them, caged in, as he stared down at the teenager.
"You are pack, Stiles," he growled softly, eyes flashing red. "You always were, it's you who thinks you're not."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh," the man murmured, dipping his head in to nose against Stiles' neck, inhaling softly. It made him shiver despite the heat Derek was putting off. The weight of the Alpha settled over him and he couldn't help the way his body responded to it, something he was sure Derek would notice.
Derek did, nostrils flaring as he took in Stiles' scent, a low growl escaping him as he slowly rolled his hips forward into the teen's own.
"Derek," Stiles gasped out at the friction, hips bucking up in response. His hands came up to grip at his back, fingers clutching the shirt in his grasp.
It earned him another low growl and another push of the man's hips into his own, making Stiles moan softly and rock up into it. Like that, they set a slow, rocking rhythm - a push-pull of their bodies on Stiles' bed, the room filling with panting and soft moans alike. Stiles clutched Derek to him and the Alpha slid his hands down under Stiles, between the teen and his bed to grip his ass and haul him up against him even tighter as he ground forward.
The tight, hot friction of their hips grinding together had Stiles crying out, head thrown back and neck bared. Derek dipped down and dragged human teeth across exposed skin and like that Stiles came apart in mere moments, crying out and hips jerking up hard.
The scent of Stiles' come filling his nose had him growling against the boy's throat, his own hips thrusting hard into the teen's a handful more times before stilling and shuddering.
When they both came down from their high, Stiles was absently combing his fingers through Derek's hair and if werewolves could purr Derek would be. It was a calming sensation and rolling onto his side he pulled Stiles with him, curling around the teen possessively.
"We're totally going to talk about this tomorrow," Stiles said, voice soft and tired, the teen turning his head to stifle a yawn.
Derek just murmured and bumped his head gently against Stiles own, "Go to sleep."
"I mean it, Derek, talking. Tomorrow. It's happening."
"Stiles," Derek growled out warningly.
"Right, sleep. Gotcha."
It was a beat or two before Stiles spoke up again. "Derek?"
A sigh. "What, Stiles?"
"Thanks, for like, the awesome orgasm and for, you know, not hating me."
That made Derek snort a soft laugh as he pressed his head into Stiles' shoulder. "You're welcome, now go to sleep."
"Okay." Another pause, then, "Derek?"
"Stiles."
"Goodnight."
Derek relaxed against him and sighed, arms curling tight around Stiles to keep the teen close. "Goodnight."