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The fact that Stiles watches most of the lacrosse games from the bench is pretty normal to him by now. He's not offended by being benched because he knows he's not the best player, but he really likes the game. Also the fact that it's a great outlet for his ADHD- if he gets to play. That being said, when some of the players are injured and the coach puts him in, it takes him a second to process.
"BILINSKI, GET YOUR ASS MOVIN'!"
He's off the bench like a light. Stiles joins the huddle and can already see them losing the game. Well, Scott- being his wolfy self- is still going strong but all their best human players have been taken out. Stiles groans while running his gloved hands over his buzzcut. Scott sends him a look like 'what can you do?'.
He sighs,"Alright we've lost our best players apart from Scott." He looks across the field at the opposing team. They're muscular, tall, and Stiles can distinctly remember them being less threatening while he was on the bench.
"So, sorry buddy, you're definitely going to be carrying the rest of this game." He hears a couple sighs of relief. Stiles straightens at that and starts devising a strategy. They can't win in a game of muscle and they're not that much faster than them either. The only thing they can do is try to trip them up and keep them away from Scott.
He clears his throat, "We need to do form C. And whatever you do. Do. Not. Net. It won't work."
"Who made you Team Captain, Stilinski?" A voice piped up from the back.
Stiles refrains from rolling his eyes. But just barely.
"Anyone with a better idea is welcome to speak as well, Sims."
A moment later, Finstock steamed over.
"FORM C. GET OUT THERE." The coach nodded to Stiles before returning to his spot and staring at his clipboard in disgust.
Out on the field was a different situation. The buzzing crowd made him antsy and the lights made him doubt his vision they were so bright. Scott clapped him on the back and sent him a reassuring smile. Bless him.
The game was going pretty good considering the circumstances, but there was about a 0% chance that they'd take the win using normal human capability. At the end of the game the opposers left victorious. Greenberg was taking a tongue lashing from Coach while the rest of the team hit the showers. Scott was being peppered with kisses by Allison, and Lydia was sitting by an irritable Jackson. Prim and proper as always.
Melissa came over and rubbed some of the dirt off his face in a motherly gesture and told him what a great game he played. She talked with him for a few more minutes before leaving to break up Scott and Allison. Stiles winced as his shoulder throbbed and headed to the showers. It only stung a little bit that his father couldn't make it to the game. He'd had to work another shift and couldn't get out of it. Needless to say, Stiles reassured his dad that it was fine. Once again.
Nearly everyone had finished in the showers when Stiles had finally gotten there. Scott would already be heading home with his mom, and Alison would have split as well.
Jackson was leaving the showers when Stiles was going in, giving him a single glance before continuing on his way to the lockers. Stiles winced at the shower temperature as goosebumps erupted across his body. His shoulder ached from acting as a human shield, and he was beginning to regret even suggesting the strategy when he knew they couldn't win. Well, it had helped their pride. And they wouldn't suffer as much at the hands of Finstock. So, maybe he didn't regret it that much after all.
Regardless, if he stayed in the shower much longer, he might lose a toe to hypothermia. The water shut off with a squeal that sounded much more eerie with the locker room presumably empty. His towel was haphazardly thrown around his hips as he walked to his locker. He barely registered the opening and closing of the outside door. He was applying his deodorant when he heard a low growl from across the room. Stiles instantly froze.
"Scott?" he whispered.
The growling stopped and the sound of long, unkempt nails repeatedly smacking the floor echoed within the room. Stiles' heart jumped into his throat, and he bolted. Being hyper-aware of his bare feet, he skirted the edges of the lockers and dashed for the door leading to the parking lot. He felt animalistic nails scratch across his left hip right as he pushed the door open and was then dragged back at the ankle by a set of sharp teeth. When he jerked back, a pair of yellow bloodshot eyes stared back at him. He let out a scream that felt like it shook his bones, enough to rival Lydia's even. The creature flinched, and Stiles took the moment to catch the beast under the chin with his foot. It skidded a bit further than he expected, and then both of his feet hurt. Either way he'd already jumped back up, secured his hand on the top of his towel, and was high tailing it to his jeep. Before it could occur to him that his jeep was locked and his keys were still in the locker room, a familiar voice called his name.
"Stiles!"
His panic reduced slightly but rocketed as he heard nails scrapping against pavement. Immediately, he booked it to where he saw Derek standing at the other side of the school. A now familiar panic pushed him to run faster as Derek jogged to meet him. Stiles had a constant stream of "oh my god"s and "Derek Derek Derek"s coming out of his mouth when he practically jumped on Derek and swung behind him for protection. Derek stumbled a bit in surprise but pushed Stiles further behind him.
"Isaac."
Stiles didn't even notice Isaac was there, but, in his own defense, Isaac does tend to slip back to his former, invisible self sometimes. He also didn't notice how bad he was shaking until Isaac pulled him into his chest and wiped the tears (he chose not to notice) from his face.
Stiles watched Derek have a brief stare-down with what he now realized was a fox. It ran with visible difficulty, and he almost winced at how painful it looked. The fox had its eyes trained on him, but Stiles still felt safe where he was despite it. No matter how weird it was that he was hugging Isaac for comfort. He couldn't stop looking at its matted dirty coat that practically hung on its skeleton. It tried to dart past the alpha at Stiles and Derek grabbed the were by the scruff of its neck . Stiles flinched, but it was quickly restrained and pinned to the ground. Stiles felt a blush heavy on his cheeks when he noticed something.
"Dude, why is it hard?"
Isaac coughed in an attempt to stifle a laugh, "It was trying to.. mate you?"
Stiles jaw hung limply, "I'm sorry!?"
Derek shot a glare at Isaac, who merely shrugged in response. Stiles felt Isaac's heat seep into him a bit more, calming Stiles' racing heart. The fox started whining underneath Derek's restraint. Stiles cleared his throat.
"Putting that aside. As much as I would love to keep standing here and I would, I really would, I'm kind of bleeding and naked."
Derek and Isaac both jerked as if shocked and Isaac moved on impulse to try and take his pain.
Stiles swatted his hand, "I'd much rather feel it but thanks."
Derek was strung taut like a bow with his eyes bleeding red.
"Stiles." His jaw flexed. "Is that a bite."
It wasn't a real question, but he nodded anyways.
"Yeah, but I'll be fine. Right? I mean, it's not an Alpha. Its eyes.."
Derek stayed silent, and Stiles loosened his hold on Isaac's shirt.
"Derek? Seriously, what's the problem?" A spike of panic rolled through him.
"Foxes are a bit different from wolves." He breathed out slowly from his nose. "But we shouldn't talk about this here. Isaac, help him back to the locker room."
He looked at Stiles next, "Can he drive your car back to the loft?"
Stiles was taken aback for a moment that he had actually asked but nodded in response. Isaac lifted Stiles up under his knees and began carrying him back immediately.
"ISAAC. DUDE. MAN. NO. PUT ME DOWN I CAN STILL WALK. AND I'M IN A TOWEL." He screeched while thrashing around and clutching the cloth.
"I was trying to be considerate." He dropped Stiles down slowly to the ground.
After he'd changed into a pair of sweat pants and a big t-shirt he'd packed, Isaac had insisted on at least piggy backing him to his car.
Despite Isaac not liking to drive, he was pretty good. Better than Scott at least. Neither of them spoke on the ride. It was more out of habit for Isaac and fatigue for Stiles. Derek wasn't at the loft when they pulled up, but Isaac didn't look surprised. When they got out, Stiles happily allowed him to piggy back him up the stairs.
"You could totally do this all the time. Like, I wouldn't even mind not walking up stairs." Isaac gave him an unimpressed look and continued upstairs.
He slipped the key into the lock with a click and popped open the door, but Stiles still didn't get down. Isaac huffed but didn't say anything more and went to the kitchen to make food. Stiles noticed the ingredients for a sandwich and whispered a request for one as well. By the time both of them had their sandwiches and were seated on the couch enjoying them, Derek pulled up in his Camaro. Stiles was bouncing with energy by the time Derek walked in. Isaac has a protective hand on his leg restricting him from getting up. He wouldn't stop trying to leech away his pain even with Stiles continually swatting him away. Sweet but annoying.
Derek walked in, and Stiles started to question him, "Where were you?"
Derek didn't even look at him and continued on to the kitchen after dropping his keys and wallet on the table.
"I dropped the fox off with Deaton. He's probably not gonna make it to morning."
A pang of pity went through his heart at that.
"Don't feel too bad. It was feral. Not much could've been done anyways."
He didn't respond. Isaac was undeterred though. He'd since stopped battling with him over the pain leeching and just started massaging his feet. Both of their plates were empty by now, and Stiles relaxed in his reclined position on the couch.
Derek cleared his throat, "You should probably stay the night here, Stiles."
He felt an implacable niggling in his stomach, "Will you please just tell me what's going on?"
He desperately hoped he wasn't right this time and the burning in his ankle was an infection- not the healing process beginning. Derek looked like he'd rather be anywhere else than here having to have this conversation. Isaac continued to be the gentleman he is.
Derek predictably took a breath, and Stiles knew he was gonna try to steamroll over everything.
"Different were creatures have different methods of turning. Some can be similar or the same. Werefoxes turn by a mating bite. Although the mating bite only turns humans, it can have small or big affects on both parties. This werefox was going on basic instinct. The instinct to breed and create a den. Having a family makes you stronger, and he was grasping at straws to save himself."
Stiles had closed his eyes to listen to Derek talk. He was talking faster than normal and finished strongly. Like he was giving a report. He tipped his head back over the couch and sighed.
No more human Stiles. No more having a chance at being normal. No more being safe. Tears leaked out behind his closed eyes but otherwise he gave no physical response to his emotions. Isaac whined low in his throat, and Stiles opened his eyes to look at him. He had tears in his eyes, too. He sat up more and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Isaac, it's okay." But his voice sounded watery and made Isaac's tears topple down his cheeks. Then that got Stiles going again, and they couldn't stop.
Isaac was clinging to him. He was clinging back. Derek stayed in the kitchen.
Eventually, he got Isaac to calm down, and his hand was locked in his curls. After a minute, he realized he'd fallen asleep. He tried to wipe his face without jostling the sleeping boy too much.
"Derek, I know you're super awkward and everything but could you take the sleeping boy to his room, please?"
He huffed but made his way into the living room. He typed out a quick text to his dad that he was staying over at Scott's.
Once Isaac was tucked in, Derek plopped down on the sofa beside him. He could feel the incoming awkwardness and knew that Derek wouldn't do anything to stop it. Hesitantly he said, "Is this gonna be similar to the wolves at all?"
Derek creased his brows, "It should be. Um..I know you're pretty..upset..about this but you've uh..still got the pack."
He wouldn't meet his eyes, but Stiles gave a small smile.
"Look at you stepping up to your Alpha role." He reached over and ruffled his hair. Derek huffed, but it was more out of exasperation than annoyance.
The game was finally catching up to him, and he was having trouble fighting back the yawns. Derek noticed (of course he did) and offered his bed. He's too tired to say no.
Derek takes the couch.
Waking up feeling restless is not something unfamiliar to Stiles Stilinski. However, it usually stops after he untangles himself from the bed. This is not usually. Stiles Stilinski is continuing to be restless. Everything feels empty and cold. His eyes burn pleasantly as he stalks out of the bedroom. He can hear the steady breathing of his Alpha, and then he's running. Derek is standing over the stove and looks surprised when he sees Stiles. Stiles doesn't know what he's doing when he wraps his arms around Derek and tries to shimmy between him and the stove. Doesn't even realize he's not really in control. Derek's chest rumbles when Stiles rubs his face on him. The entire loft is screaming pack pack pack pack, but it's more comforting than overwhelming. Like coming home from a really long trip and wanting to lay down on every piece of furniture you own. In this scenario, the pack is the furniture. So when Stiles hears Isaac moving about, he's out of the kitchen in a flash. Isaac didn't even get to shut his bedroom door before he's got an armful of Stiles. He teetered from the added weight of a freshly turned teenager but held on nonetheless. Stiles purred and clamped on tighter. Isaac had to swing him around into piggyback position before actually being able to shut his door.
"Do foxes purr?" He asked once he entered the kitchen with Derek.
"It's more of a grumble than a purr."
All three of them jumped at the new voice. Derek cursed as he dabbed at the bacon grease he'd gotten on his shirt. Peter stood by the dining room table looking far too smug.
Isaac felt Stiles tense on his back and winced at the prick of claws. Stiles' eyes were glowing orange and soft growls were vibrating his throat. Isaac would have called them cute if he wasn't sure it would cause him bodily harm at the moment. Peter dropped his smug look and rolled his eyes dramatically.
Derek looked at him like he'd gone crazy- again, "Peter."
He rolled back on his heels, "Oh please, nephew."
"I already told the entire pack about the situation."
"Oh, yes. They'll be here within the hour."
Derek's eyes flashed, "What."
Stiles' growls hiked up a notch along with his Alpha's anger.
"Derek, calm down. You're only helping to stress him out." Isaac said while trying to declaw his skin.
Peter scoffed, "Just let him come check me out. It'll be fine."
Stiles looked to Derek and flashed his orange eyes. Derek flashed his back and watched as he dropped from Isaac. He rubbed against both of them before stepping out. His canines weren't as large as the wolves', but they were sharper. He bared them threateningly when he caught the other's eye. Peter stayed perfectly still as Stiles circled him. Hands still in his pockets, jaw squared with a blank face. Isaac keeps sending confused glances to Derek who keeps ignoring them. Finally, Stiles stops skirting Peter and smells him. He makes a confused noise and then without warning just goes to fucking town on Peter's neck with his nose. Derek had to smack a hand over Isaac's mouth so his laughing wouldn't disturb them. Peter's teeth are clenched so hard he might need a dentist, and there's a vein poking out on his forehead. Derek is near choking Isaac to get him to shut the fuck up. Stiles is content with Peter's smell and noses at his jaw before nipping roughly at his ear and dashing to the couch. Isaac is in hysterics when Derek let's him go.
It gets a little better when the others arrive- from Isaac's view at least. Stiles kind of dozes in and out for about an hour until Erica shows up with Boyd. The door bangs open the way it only does when she's the one opening it, and Stiles has vaulted over the couch to see what's what. Her and Boyd are already in the doorway of the kitchen, that nobody seemed to want to leave for the last hour for fear of messing with Stiles.
He freezes up when he sets eyes on their backs. Two new predators in the den. Erica hears his heart pick up and turns to face him. Her grin is positively cheshire, and she prances over to greet him. His nails sharpen at the perceived threat, and he growls. She looks surprised and is no longer smiling. He feels the pleasant burning in his eyes and bears his teeth. She holds up her hands uncertainly and bears her throat. Stiles finds it odd that she does this but approaches her cautiously. He stays on the balls of his feet and gets close enough to smell her before flinching back and doing it again.
She huffs, "Stiles, come on."
He looks at her and flashes his eyes. Confused, she blinks and does it back. He closes the distance between them and smells her again. There's a little spark in the recess' of his brain that brings forth the feeling of being swaddled in a blanket on a cold night, and he practically yips. Erica jumps and then has an all you can carry Stiles hanging off her side. He rubs his face in her long beachy hair and hums in delight. She walks over to Boyd and he follows, unconcerned with where they're going in the loft. He buries his face in her hair, and she can't stop laughing because he's scenting her like they haven't been in contact for months.
Boyd let's out a quiet annoyed growl, and Stiles picks up his head and looks. Stiles stares, and Erica is giggling now. He decides that the she-wolf's mate is jealous and switches targets. He expertly disentangles himself and hangs off Boyd's arm. His golden eyes meet with burnt orange and everyone relaxes. Erica sides up next to him and locks their arms together with Boyd being the pure embodiment of embarrassment. He purrs, content.
Eventually, Erica drags them all to the living room for "bonding". Derek sits in front of the couch with Stiles behind him. His legs are thrown over Derek's shoulders and Erica has her phone out taking pictures. Stiles has a healthy flush on his cheeks as he smiles at everyone. The orange of his eyes flits on and off as he musses up Derek's hair. The alpha is surprisingly not bothered by anything that's happened so far and actively enables his antics by being pliant to them. Everyone already knows why but won't say anything to embarrass their leader too much. Derek is even smiling in some of the pictures.
Isaac is still in the kitchen trying to make enough food for everybody when Allison and Scott arrive. There a swift rapping at the door- which could only be Allison because Scott doesn't knock- and then Scott opens the door while asking why she even bothered.
"It's just polite." She replied.
Stiles could smell his best friend's arrival and launched himself at him on sight. Thankfully Derek rolled out of the way to avoid any collision, but Scott did get taken down on the way. While they play wrestled, Allison sat down by Erica and asked what was going on. Erica, while not very close with her, delighted in retelling the events of the past hour and showing her the adorable pictures she got.
When Stiles finally sniffed her out, he was cautious but curious. She smelled dangerous and human but everyone was comfortable around her. Derek saw his reluctance and called Allison over to him. He set his hand on her shoulder and flashed his eyes at Stiles. He padded over and looked at both of them before nosing her hair and gently butting his head with hers. Her smile was blinding, and he hid behind Derek until she went back to the couch. He could feel Derek's chest rumbling and peeked around at his Alpha.
Laughing.
Derek Sourwolf Hale was giving a full bellied laugh, and it made Stiles' heart skip. He bounced on his feet, unable to contain his excitement, and pecked Derek on the cheek. An odd trill came out of his throat as everyone stared at him, and he looked to Derek again. An unrealistic shade of red covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Stiles yipped in delight and decided to pepper more kisses on his face, but two firm hands kept him in place on the ground. He rolled with it and just wrapped his arms around Derek while making nonsensical sounds and humming in happiness.
It really wasn't fair that Jackson crashed the party.
Well, he was invited, but Stiles didn't know that.
Cut to: Lydia walking in like she owns the place and seeing Stiles and Derek looking adorable.
She has her phone out so fast that everybody doubts their own memories of seeing her empty handed when she walked in. She continues to snap pictures even as Stiles breaks away and walks over to her with a grin. He felt the same spark he did when he met Erica but it was a lot quicker because he was not as threatened by her banshee status. He examined her red hair with intrigue because of its playful color. She had a light smile on her face as she batted his hand away and went to sit with Allison. He was following her when the smell of another wolf reached his nose and stopped him stiff. There was an unpleasant crawling on his spine as he slowly turned around. Jackson was stood in the doorway with a disgusted look on his face.
"Really, Stilinski? Did you have to make the place reek of you? You're like a bargain brand air freshener."
His patronizing tone registered with Stiles and a hair raising growl dripped from his lips. The tone triggered other memories from the hibernating part of his consciousness. The tips of his nails sharpened and turned black from the root down. The wolf's eyebrows were raised in surprise as he looked him in the eyes. Everyone watched as Stiles' ears pointed up and his brow lowered slightly to enhance his burning orange eyes. Barely-there red-ish sideburns appeared, and Jackson looked confused at the shift.
He remembers feeling hurt over and over again and not always physically. He's stalking across the room as his brain sorts through threat threat threat threat. His joints ache to jump onto the other predator. He can hear the wolf's heartbeat escalate the closer he gets. Stiles is angry. He's so angry, and he doesn't know why. Jackson is talking, but Stiles doesn't care about any kind of communication to be had with a threat. His ears ring
Just as Stiles leaps to pounce on the threat, there are hands on his hips pulling him back. He thrashes and spins around to slash at who has him but stills when he sees Derek.
No Alpha eyes. Just beautiful light green. He slaps lightly at Derek's hands in reprimand so he'll let go but get's raised eyebrows in return for his efforts. He huffs and ducks under Derek's right arm before climbing onto his back. He will look scarier from an elevation and powerful with his Alpha under him. He lifts himself up higher over his Alpha and a sound like rattling silverware comes out of his mouth. Jackson grimaces and curls into himself a bit at the volume and frequency of the scream, as do most of the room. Stiles is satisfied as he slides down a bit to wrap his legs around Derek's waist, and places his chin on his shoulder. The thunderous beat of his Alpha's heart was music to his ears.
Jackson strode over to Isaac with quick steps. Isaac smugly patted his shoulder when he sat down. As Stiles' features return to normal, he hears Erica giggling and turns his bright eyes to her. Everyone on her side of the room is looking at her phone. Boyd gets closer and tries to do something on it that has her battling him away. Boyd hits a button on the phone and the flash goes off in rapid succession. Because Stiles was staring in intrigue at the situation unfolding, he catches the full force of it. Derek tries to hold on to him, but he rears back and off of him. He rolls out gracefully and grinds the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop the pain. Slamming into a wall, he whines. Derek grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his face. Looking into his eyes, he saw the other's pupils dilate back and forth until they settled into slits. Stiles groaned.
"Derek, what are you doin' with your big hands on my face?"
Everyone gaped at Stiles as he struggled to get up. His eyes stayed orange as he looked around the room in curiosity. When he finally stood on his own, ignoring Derek's offered hand, he flexed his hands and walked over to Erica. She gaped like a fish at his agile approach. Before she could move, he snatched her phone and threw it against the wall, shattering it indefinitely. Gasps were heard from everyone as Stiles crossed his arms defensively. She jumped up like a bullet: fast and with dramatic effect.
"Stiles, what the fuck?" She snarled around her now canine teeth, eyes flashing.
He sneers, "Back off, she-wolf."
She pauses and gives him a dirty look before skirting him to get her phone. The remnants of it at least.
The pack is shocked into silence. Nobody notices Lydia slide her phone back into her purse. An atmosphere of confusion settles comically in the living room. Erica still looks burning mad with pieces of her broken phone in her hand but like she's still second guessing going near Stiles to get back to her seat. Everyone is at a loss for words at just what exactly Stiles has transitioned to. Except, of course, for the man who always has something to say.
"Oh, my. This is interesting."
Peter stands leaning against the frame of the kitchen with a mug of something fruity smelling held close to his chest. Stiles inclines his head, just so, and approaches. The man stays perfectly calm, though takes a swig of his drink. Stiles eyebrows are raised slightly with a small pleased smile on his face. Once he's close enough, he slides his wrist across his neck and drops his head onto the other's shoulder.
"And how are you, delta?"
Peter raises his own eyebrows in consideration. The overly articulate way of speaking that Stiles is using is something he has rarely experienced.
"Delightful, Stiles. Now, where did you happen to learn that term?"
Stiles either ignored him or didn't listen because just after that, he glided back to Derek's side. The back of his neck prickled, and he turned to find the whole of the pack staring at him.
"Is there nothing else worth your time? Stop ogling me, uilebheistean cù." He snapped.
They jerked and looked at each other in dubiety. Completely ignoring them, he turns and sidles close to Derek. He's stone stiff and looking carefully over Stiles' shoulder, avoiding eye contact. Blocking out any other sensory intrusions, he wraps his arms around Derek's waist and lays his head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His partially shifted nails snag the back of his shirt.
Lydia has apparently deemed it safe to take out her phone again. Erica's looking at her jealously while cradling the broken pieces of her own phone. Boyd, bless him, tries to console her but receives a warning growl in return. Stiles would be cute and cuddly right now if he hadn't turned on her flash. She pouted while everyone else was trying to figure out what to do with themselves. Well, they were mostly just waiting for something to happen. Allison was scrolling through the pictures she'd managed to get Erica to send her and was forcing Scott to look as well. Isaac was having some weird power trip by propping his feet on Jackson's lap and watching him fume. Lydia found it hilarious and took pictures of that, too.
Stiles tiredly rubbed his face against Derek's shirt, "Take me to bed."
The Alpha seemed to freeze up even more but then thawed enough to guide him through the hallway. Stiles clung possessively to Derek's arm. Nervous energy leaked out of him in waves as he turned his back to the rest of the pack. They reach his room, and he tries to stall at the door. Unfortunately, this whole personality flop has done a lot more for Stiles in the way of being parsimonious, so he drags him forward without question. Stiles lands in a graceful arch, while Derek is a sprawl of stiff awkward limbs beside him. For a moment, he thinks Stiles has gone straight to sleep. There's no movement, and his heartbeat is slow and steady.
The snaking hand over his chest makes him flinch. What he thinks is about to dissolve into an animalistic sexual advance on him is decidedly incorrect, he finds out. The uncomfortably intimate touches aren't the kind he expects, at least not from the attitude he's seen displayed so far. Stiles is obviously coming back to himself if he can clue into human body language again. He clings to that thought while Stiles moves his hands more delicately.
Deft fingers rub into his muscles, and he's practically forced to relax. Stiles ends up laying half on top of him as he works his shoulders. Derek thinks it's completely unfair that he's actually getting drowsy. Despite the goosebumps he gets on his arms from Stiles nosing his jaw, he drifts asleep.