AN: It's my first fanfic. On this account. I haven't been so much of a fanboy since I first played video games, but then I grew up... and lost my old acc. It's atm a one-shot, but I might do the whole shebang if I can bring myself to do it. I lack ambition. Anywho, it's sortof AU, like most of the stories here. I tried to stay IC, but there are a few digressions. You gotta love yerself some Stiles/Derek delishisniss.
Derek was driving back to his house with newly bought groceries. He felt the rumble of his Camaro, the blast of cool wind into his face, and the still, quietness of the forest night all around him. He was driving down the empty streets of Beacon Hills, trying to get home without having to deal with suspicious cops or obnoxious hunters.
As he rounded the corner of the road, a familiar scent wafted into his nose. The scent of a hormonal teenage boy with tendencies to get himself into loads of trouble, the scent of one of those tendencies was also present in the air.
Scanning around, he saw the short haired teen cantering down the side of the road, with a bottle of what was definitely alcohol swinging in his hand.
"Shit," said Derek. What the hell was the kid doing? Was he trying to die? He only been reminded so many times that the Alpha wanted him dead, so getting drunk and walking through the woods at night must've been his overly imaginitve way of commiting suicide. Nothing else could even remotely make sense otherwise.
Derek pulled over in front of Stiles and got out of the car. He examined at the teen with angry eyes. Stiles was wasted as fuck. He hadn't been entirely able to smell the extent of the problem before, but now it was like Stiles had taken a swim through a vat of Jack.
Derek grabbed the bottle of whiskey out of the teen's hand and shook it at him.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Stiles looked at him funny as if he couldn't tell who it was yelling at him. Finally recognition dawned there and smiled.
"Why hello, Hale."
"Are you seriously this stupid? You get yourself wasted and," Derek sniffed, "Is that drugs? Your high and drunk off your ass!What, do you want to die? Walking around the woods while there's a werewolf that'd be only too happy to rip you in half?" Derek was furious. He thought Stiles was the smarter of the two teens. He thought there was at least some common sense in the kid.
Stiles' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh, is that what you're gonna do? You could at leez buy a boy a drink before you proposision them. Unless they happen to be a prostitue. Which I am not, by the way. I, mister, am a probber gentlemen. I require a drink before allowing you to have your way with me."
Derek's eyes narrowed in angry disbelief, clueless as to what the hell this was about.
Stiles lunged for the bottle with both hands out, but he's weak so they fall heavily and it looks as if he's stretching for his toes. Derek had immediately withdrawn the bottle away, and Stiles ended up falling comically on his ass on the road. He made an 'aw shucks' gesture with his hands and shoulders. Then he started to draw in the dirt with his fingers.
"God-fucking-damn it." Derek rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to have to spend his evening babysitting a drunk. Sure he didn't have any plans, but that didn't mean he was free to babysit.
"Hey misser, that kine of langage is nah necessary."
"Come on, you're going home. Let's get in the car."
Derek hoisted Stiles over his shoulders, carrying him like a sack of potatoes to his car. Stiles whee'd like a kid as Derek hauled him. Derek laid Stiles down in the backseat. Thinking ahead, he grabbed a brown paper bag of groceries, the one that held the boxes of mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and other not fragile items and dumped them out on the floor. He handed the emptied bag to Stiles.
"Do not puke on my seats."
Stiles wriggled around, his body loving the feeling of the seats.
"Oooh, sawft. Leather? Of course it's leather. As if you'd have anything else."
"Did you hear me, Stiles? I said no puking on my seats."
"Huh? Oh, you don't have to worry about that. I don't really have a gag reflex."
Oh my god, the thoughts that reeled throughout Derek's mind sent a pulse of blood into his nethers, I hope he's not serious. He closed his eyes against the raunchy images and closed the door.
Derek started his car and made a u-turn. He headed for the drunk teen's home and got his phone out. Dialing Scott's number, he listened to the tones as he sped back towards the town.
"Hello?" Scott is out of breath, as if he's been running or something.
"Scott, it's Derek. Can you tell me why it is I have a plastered Stiles in my backseat?"
"Stiles is drunk?"
"No. Stiles is plastered. Drunk must've been passed over about an hour ago." Derek gripped the wheel with one angry hand as he turned another meander in the road.
"Frick, he said he was just gonna hang out at this party for a little while and just unwind."
"Well, he's officially past unwound, he's completely come apart. And he's... acting weird." Derek didn't really wanna have to explain the extent of the awkward over the phone.
A groan came from the back seat. "Hmmm, your car feels sooo good."
"Did you hear that Scott? My car feels good. Or as he so descriptively put it 'sooo good.'"
"Yeah, Derek, I heard. My hearing is as good as your's. Look, I can't deal with this at the moment. I'm with someone." Derek's nostrils flared out of anger.
"Scott, I told you to stay away from Allison!"
"I know, but I had to tell her I would be busy for awhile! I'll be over as soon as I can. Just... get him home. And make sure his dad doesn't see him like that. Or you! The sheriff would go berserk if he found you and his son incapacitated."
"I pretty much figured that one out myself, thanks."
"Okay, keep him safe, and I'll be there as soon as I can." The call died and Derek tossed his phone to the side. He grips the steering wheel with both hands now.
Derek sighs. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you, Stiles?" The words are spoken aloud for his own benefit.
Stiles giggled from the back. "I got a couple of ideas..."
Derek groaned. It was going to be a long night.
Derek pulled out front of the Stilinski household. Fortunately, with the recent attacks from the Alpha, Sheriff Stilinski had taken to patrol the town till late at night.
Stiles was happily rubbing up against Derek's car seats when Derek opened the door. Derek leans into the car to get Stiles' attention.
"Stiles we're at your house. I need your keys."
"No... dad says I'm not allowed to have strays. Especially bad dogs like you." Stiles batted a hand weakly at Derek's face. He was not rewarded with a smile or chuckle. He got glared at.
"Fine," Stiles turned onto his side, "They're right here." He slapped his own left ass cheek. The sound of a metal clink confirmed the fact.
God help me, Derek prayed silently. He tried to do it as carefully as possible, but as Derek pulled the keys out of the pocket, Stiles used his own hand to force Derek's hand into his crotch. Stiles groaned and giggled at the frictious situation.
Derek felt his own crotch's lustful yearnings for a moment, but quickly withdrew his hand. He fisted his hair in angry impatience.
"Ugh! Stiles, you need to stop. Your drunk. You don't really want this."
"Yes, I do! Pikachu... I choose you! Or would you be a Mightyena? Yeah, Mightyena... you definitely got Scary Face down..."
"Stiles stop! Your drunk and high off your ass!"
Stiles sits up from the seat, feet hanging out of the car.
"I, sir, am not," Stiles paused to still the whirling of the world around him, "Under influence or duress of anything. I only had..." Another pause, "About half bottle each of vodka and whiskey. And what I think was E. I dunno, ithadapairoflipsonit, so I guess it was E... There may have been weed involved too..."
"Why would you take so much?"
"I dunno. Ferfunnzies?" Derek heard a skip in Stiles' heartbeat. But since Stiles' was high off of god knows what, he couldn't be sure of what to make of it.
"Well, you need to come down from your little cloud. Let's get you inside."
Derek came over to the car again. This time he grabbed the keys that had fallen from his hands quickly and withdrew trying to not draw attention from the sexually frustrated teen. He really didn't want a repeat of the earlier forced molestation.
Derek told Stiles to wait there and jogged to the front door. He unlocked and opened the door, leaving it open so he could get Stiles inside.
He went back to Stiles.
"We have to get you upstairs. I'm gonna help you up, but you have to promise to not pull anything."
Stiles nodded quickly, his eyes closed. Stiles was like a child, and it was too fucking adorable. Derek was becoming increasingly infatuated with this younger reversion of Stiles.
He got beside Stiles and wrapped the teen's arm around his neck. Holding Stiles' neck, he helped the teen up the driveway. Once to the halfway point though, Stiles collapsed to his knees and threw up. Derek couldn't help but be a just the slightest, smallest bit grateful that he'd kept it together till he was out of the car.
Stiles groaned, though this time out of dismay at getting a little puke on his jeans. Because that was attractive.
Derek, a little bemused by the turn of events, decided to get this over with. He picked up Stiles very gently and set him over his shoulders again. He carried the dazed teen up to his room and set him on his bed as gently as possible.
Derek started to undo Stiles' shoes, and removed them and his socks. He went up to Stiles and started to tug off his shirt. After that, he undid the button and zipper on Stiles' jeans. Struggling to lift his hips as Derek tugged his jeans off, Stiles smiled.
"I get farther with you after puking. That sends odd vibes."
For the first time that night, Derek smiled down at him as he rolled the denim into a ball.
"Did you really want to wake up with the smell of your own puke on you in the morning?" Derek stared down, trying to be as oblivious to the fact that the only thing that covered Stiles' near-naked body was a pair of ridiculously small black boxer-briefs.
"I guess not..."
Derek helps Stiles under the covers, thankful to have covered the teen more. He now knew he'd be spending at least a fraction of his night in the shower.
Derek made to leave before Stiles called out.
Derek looked at the adorable shirtless teen. Derek's breath had at some indiscernible point become ragged, each exhale consistently inconsistent. His own heartbeat was picking up pace.
"Derek will you answer a," Stiles yawned - adorably -, " Answer a question for me?"
"Yeah?" Derek started to walk back to Stiles.
"I asked Scott, and Danny, this gay guy at school, but neither of them answered me."
"Asked what?" Derek sat next to Stiles on the bed.
"I asked if they," yawn again, "thought if I was attractive to guys."
"Do you think I'm attractive?"
"After that little puking incident?" Derek asks.
"Oh." Stiles' voice is dejected and resigned. He turn on his side, facing away from Derek and lays down onto his pillow.
A moment later, Derek looks at Stiles' pale back.
"Yes, Stiles, I think you're attractive. I wish you knew how attractive I really think you are... I think I'm almost falling in love with you."
Derek looks at Stiles' sleeping body.
He knew that Stiles had passed out before he had responded, but it didn't change the fact he wanted so badly for Stiles to hear his words.
Derek stayed beside Stiles for a long while, rubbing the sleeping teen's back and enjoying the proximity of the frail being beside him. At the sound of a car pulling up, Derek sat up. Then he felt the anxiety in the air, and it was clear that it was Scott. When Scott had gotten up to the room, he saw a casual Derek perusing one of Stiles' many newly acquired werewolf books and a still sleeping Stiles.
"How is he?"
"Passed out. It's three o'clock. I called you at twelve."
"I'm sorry, Allison didn't want me to leave yet. She-"
"Screwed you. Thrice. I can still smell it all over you."
"Dude, that's gross. You don't have to point out everything you smell."
"Yes, I do. Especially when you said you'd be over as soon as you could. Once, was pushing it as it was, but three times is definitely something that requires pointing out."
"Okay! I get it. Stay away from Allison. No need to repeat it more than... Wait, is Stiles' naked?"
Derek's face went from annoyed to perplexed.
"What? Oh yeah. He puked on himself, the puddle's outside. When we got in, he just stripped down and went to bed." Derek forces his heartbeat in check as best as he could. Knowing when someone else lies made it easier to try to insure you're never caught.
Scott looks at him funny. He must've heard something offbeat. Shit. Derek looks back at him and the two look at each in this stalemate. Scott shakes his head, and just shrugs it off.
"I'm gonna go. You should clean up your friend's puke off the driveway. His dad would definitely not approve of his underage son drinking."
"Sure. I'll see you later."
Derek leapt out the window, trying to ignore his heart aching to be beside Stiles all night long.
AAN: I'll be honest, I'm sorta rusty on fanfic writing, so I'm worried. Review me! It'd help me decide if I could do a full 'verse. On our side notes, I'm gonna rant a little about our fellow fanbase members SKIP this if you're a whiteknighter. Derek/Kate is unholy: SHE BURNED HIS ENTIRE FAMILY TO DEATH. HE COULD NEVER LIKE HER. And then there are OC's. I don't mind if you fantasize about being in Teen Wolf, but you're not that cool, not even in fiction. As for the rest of slash fiction Derek/Jackson, Derek/Scott, Scott/Stiles? Eh, idkidc. Go for it. BUT KNOW THIS. DEREK/STILES IS THE RULING COUPLE OF THIS FANVERSE.
Also, if you love Dylan O'brien as much as I do, check out his band! Slow Kids at Play. He plays the skins. And they're pretty good! Just sayin. Who's ready for tomorrow's episode of Teen Wolf? THIS GUY!