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tamingthemuseTitle: good riddance
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 485 - argumentum ad baculum
Warnings: Canon divergent after S2. Stiles/OC. Pre- Derek/Stiles.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~915
Summary: Stiles is celebrating his birthday at Jungle. Derek’s late to the party. Stiles’ boyfriend is not a card-carrying member of the Derek Hale fan club. Everything works out in the end.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
-- = --
Derek’s late getting to Jungle. He’d actually thought about skipping altogether—he’s quite a bit older than the rest of the pack and Stiles’ boyfriend isn’t exactly his biggest fan—but it’s Stiles’ birthday and, even though Erica’s texted him thirteen times asking where he’s at, it’s Scott’s two texts that finally prompt him to leave the loft.
It’s close to eleven when he finally enters the club and he weaves his way through all the sweaty bodies on the dance floor on his way to the bar. He uses the time he waits to order his drink trying to find the pack because he can’t scent them out with so many people and their smells assaulting his senses. And he’s not even going to try to listen for their heartbeats or voices over the music. It takes a couple of minutes, but he spots Scott and Kira at a table tucked into a corner opposite the DJ booth and its wall of speakers.
Derek takes his drink and makes his way over, finding Stiles and Erica have joined Scott and Kira. Erica spots him first, squealing loud enough Derek can hear her over the bass, and launches herself at him. “You made it!”
Derek releases Erica and moves over to Stiles, opening his arms for a hug that Stiles easily falls into. “Sorry I was late.”
Stiles is slow to let go of him, leans in close even though Derek can hear him fine from a couple feet away. “You’re here now. And that’s what matters.” His eyes are bright and his face is flushed from more than just the heat inside the club. He’s not drunk, but he’s not exactly sober, either.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Derek tells him, moving into Stiles’ space so he can be heard. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Stiles grins. “You wanna dance?”
“Do you think Andy would approve?”
“Andy’s gotta get over it sometime. You’re one of my best friends. You’re my alpha.”
It never fails to make Derek feel like preening when Stiles says that. “Have you told him yet?”
Stiles shakes his head. “Not yet. I’m waiting. I need to be sure.”
Before Derek can say anything, Andy interrupts them. He tends to get possessive in a way Stiles hates whenever Derek’s around, and tonight’s no exception. Andy wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist and pulls him in close, kissing the side of Stiles’ neck. “Hey, babe,” he says to Stiles. “I though I told you I didn’t want him here.”
Stiles stiffens in Andy’s hold and Derek can see Scott and Kira tune into the conversation out of the corner of his eye. “And I told you Derek’s one of my best friends.”
Andy’s grip on Stiles’ hip tightens. “Can I talk to you outside?”
Stiles pushes Andy’s hand away. “You can say whatever you need to right here.”
Shaking his head, Andy turns his back to Derek, probably trying to block him from hearing their conversation as much as keeping him from seeing Stiles. “Look. I just don’t like the guy.”
“You don’t even know Derek. You haven’t even tried to get to know him.”
“I just have a gut feeling about him. I mean, he’s what? Like, thirty or something? He’s a bit to old to just want to be friends with you.”
Derek can see Stiles stand up a little straighter, sees the way his eyes narrow and the redness in his cheeks darkens slightly. “I’ve known Derek for years. You don’t have the slightest idea of the things we’ve been through together—not just me and Derek, but all of my friends. And Derek’s one of the kindest, most loyal people I know. And you, what? Want me to stop being friends with him because you’re feeling threatened?”
Andy stands taller at the accusation, like he’s trying to loom over Stiles and intimidate him. But Stiles is one of a few humans in a werewolf pack and he’s seen and done things that would make Andy run scared or piss his pants. “I want you to tell him to leave.”
“Or what?”
“Or,” Andy says, like he wasn’t expecting Stiles to argue. But it’s clear to Derek that this isn’t the first time they’ve discussed him. It’s likely to be the last, though, judging by the look on Stiles’ face. “Or we’re done.”
“Fine,” Stiles says, with a shrug. “Then I guess we’re done. Bye.” He leans around Andy to look at Derek. “So. That dance?”
Derek barely spares a glance at Andy. “Sure.”
“Awesome.” He reaches for Derek’s hand, quirking an eyebrow at Andy before leading Derek onto the dance floor. He wraps his arms around Derek’s neck, leans in to talk into his ear. “And that’s what I was waiting for. He might’ve had a gut feeling about you, but I had one about him. I mean, I wanted to be wrong, but he just couldn’t get over the fact that we’re friends.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek tells him.
Stiles shakes his head and tightens his arms so they’re dancing even closer together. “I’m not. Good riddance.”
Derek rubs his cheek against Stiles’, partly to scent him, partly to hide his own smile, and partly to make Stiles laugh. “Good riddance,” he echoes.
Stiles buries his face in Derek’s neck. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Derek traces his nose along the edge of Stiles’ ear. “Me, too.”
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 485 - argumentum ad baculum
Warnings: Canon divergent after S2. Stiles/OC. Pre- Derek/Stiles.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~915
Summary: Stiles is celebrating his birthday at Jungle. Derek’s late to the party. Stiles’ boyfriend is not a card-carrying member of the Derek Hale fan club. Everything works out in the end.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
Derek’s late getting to Jungle. He’d actually thought about skipping altogether—he’s quite a bit older than the rest of the pack and Stiles’ boyfriend isn’t exactly his biggest fan—but it’s Stiles’ birthday and, even though Erica’s texted him thirteen times asking where he’s at, it’s Scott’s two texts that finally prompt him to leave the loft.
It’s close to eleven when he finally enters the club and he weaves his way through all the sweaty bodies on the dance floor on his way to the bar. He uses the time he waits to order his drink trying to find the pack because he can’t scent them out with so many people and their smells assaulting his senses. And he’s not even going to try to listen for their heartbeats or voices over the music. It takes a couple of minutes, but he spots Scott and Kira at a table tucked into a corner opposite the DJ booth and its wall of speakers.
Derek takes his drink and makes his way over, finding Stiles and Erica have joined Scott and Kira. Erica spots him first, squealing loud enough Derek can hear her over the bass, and launches herself at him. “You made it!”
Derek releases Erica and moves over to Stiles, opening his arms for a hug that Stiles easily falls into. “Sorry I was late.”
Stiles is slow to let go of him, leans in close even though Derek can hear him fine from a couple feet away. “You’re here now. And that’s what matters.” His eyes are bright and his face is flushed from more than just the heat inside the club. He’s not drunk, but he’s not exactly sober, either.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Derek tells him, moving into Stiles’ space so he can be heard. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks,” Stiles grins. “You wanna dance?”
“Do you think Andy would approve?”
“Andy’s gotta get over it sometime. You’re one of my best friends. You’re my alpha.”
It never fails to make Derek feel like preening when Stiles says that. “Have you told him yet?”
Stiles shakes his head. “Not yet. I’m waiting. I need to be sure.”
Before Derek can say anything, Andy interrupts them. He tends to get possessive in a way Stiles hates whenever Derek’s around, and tonight’s no exception. Andy wraps an arm around Stiles’ waist and pulls him in close, kissing the side of Stiles’ neck. “Hey, babe,” he says to Stiles. “I though I told you I didn’t want him here.”
Stiles stiffens in Andy’s hold and Derek can see Scott and Kira tune into the conversation out of the corner of his eye. “And I told you Derek’s one of my best friends.”
Andy’s grip on Stiles’ hip tightens. “Can I talk to you outside?”
Stiles pushes Andy’s hand away. “You can say whatever you need to right here.”
Shaking his head, Andy turns his back to Derek, probably trying to block him from hearing their conversation as much as keeping him from seeing Stiles. “Look. I just don’t like the guy.”
“You don’t even know Derek. You haven’t even tried to get to know him.”
“I just have a gut feeling about him. I mean, he’s what? Like, thirty or something? He’s a bit to old to just want to be friends with you.”
Derek can see Stiles stand up a little straighter, sees the way his eyes narrow and the redness in his cheeks darkens slightly. “I’ve known Derek for years. You don’t have the slightest idea of the things we’ve been through together—not just me and Derek, but all of my friends. And Derek’s one of the kindest, most loyal people I know. And you, what? Want me to stop being friends with him because you’re feeling threatened?”
Andy stands taller at the accusation, like he’s trying to loom over Stiles and intimidate him. But Stiles is one of a few humans in a werewolf pack and he’s seen and done things that would make Andy run scared or piss his pants. “I want you to tell him to leave.”
“Or what?”
“Or,” Andy says, like he wasn’t expecting Stiles to argue. But it’s clear to Derek that this isn’t the first time they’ve discussed him. It’s likely to be the last, though, judging by the look on Stiles’ face. “Or we’re done.”
“Fine,” Stiles says, with a shrug. “Then I guess we’re done. Bye.” He leans around Andy to look at Derek. “So. That dance?”
Derek barely spares a glance at Andy. “Sure.”
“Awesome.” He reaches for Derek’s hand, quirking an eyebrow at Andy before leading Derek onto the dance floor. He wraps his arms around Derek’s neck, leans in to talk into his ear. “And that’s what I was waiting for. He might’ve had a gut feeling about you, but I had one about him. I mean, I wanted to be wrong, but he just couldn’t get over the fact that we’re friends.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek tells him.
Stiles shakes his head and tightens his arms so they’re dancing even closer together. “I’m not. Good riddance.”
Derek rubs his cheek against Stiles’, partly to scent him, partly to hide his own smile, and partly to make Stiles laugh. “Good riddance,” he echoes.
Stiles buries his face in Derek’s neck. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Derek traces his nose along the edge of Stiles’ ear. “Me, too.”
