Stiles getting hurt in a fight for the umpteenth time and Derek finally has enough. He demands Stiles show up next pack night to start training with the betas. Of course he can’t do everything but he should at least learn how to fucking dodge.
Stiles gets there, dressed in his track suit, a pencil standing next to Boyd but smiling, just happy to be included. Derek has to reign in a sigh before motioning Jackson forward. “You’re going to spar with Stiles.”
“I could sit on him and break him in half.”
“You’re not going to touch him. It’s a lesson in restraint for you too. You learn to pull yourself back. You so much as nick him you’re running the preserve 10 times.” Jackson grumbles, rolling his eyes but getting into a fighting stance.
Stiles stands in front of him.
“Stiles… just don’t get hit. Get a feel for how he moves and move the opposite direction.” Derek instructs.
“Can I hit him?” Stiles asks and Jackson snorts.
“I’d literally pay you for every hit you can land.” Jackson taunts. Stiles is still looking at Derek though, waiting for permission and Derek waves at him in agreement. If that was the attitude Jackson wanted to have, Stiles is welcome to try.
Stiles nods before mimicking Jackson’s stance.
“You guys, I don’t think this is a good idea…” Scott murmurs worriedly.
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt your token human.” Jackson growls.
“That’s not what I mean…” Scott grumbles but Jackson pulls his arm back and takes the first swing and Stiles is suddenly gone.
Derek blinks in astonishment, watching Stiles sidestep off to Jackson’s right and then spinning so he’s behind him. Jackson stumbles forward in shock and Stiles’ foot kicks his knee in, causing a loud grunt of pain to be heard from the beta.
“How much money per hit?” Stiles asks, semi- serious as Jackson’s eyes glow and he whips around only for Stiles to be standing opposite him again. “Are we talking new Mac book prices or a slurpee at the 7/11?”
“What the fuck…” Erica gasps in disbelief.
“You guys. I don’t think you understand-” Scott tries once more only for Jackson to roar angrily and dart forward again.
“Jackson!” Derek demands only to watch as Stiles moves into his space this time. Lifting his forearm and rolling Jackson’s elbow up and out of the momentum of the punch. It’s fluid, quick, and then the human is using the force of Jackson’s own body, bringing his palm up and letting the beta ram himself into the heel of his palm.
Jackson’s gasps for air as hand meets solar plexus and he crumbles down to his knees. The preserve goes quiet in shock. The only sounds are Jackson’s choking breaths.
“I tried to tell you guys… Noah had him take karate classes since he was 5… Chris has been training him since the Nogitsune. He spars with Parrish whenever he’s at the station…Did you all really think he’s been able to keep pace with werewolves and take literal hits from us because he was lucky?” Scott asked in amusement.
“B-But he always gets hurt!” Isaac cries out in indignation.
“So do we all! He just doesn’t heal immediately after so it always looks worse. If you all think about it though. He actually gets hit the least out of all of us, even when he’s in the thick of it.” Stiles doesn’t say anything just looks over at Derek and gives him a wink.
Derek has never been more turned on in his life.
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