Merry Christmas, @kevaaronday!
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*****
Heard you were tough (but you don't look it)
1 - That Asshole 0 - Derek 1
Usually Derek got a different response after he’d saved someone’s life.
Depending on if the person was in the know or not, he either got some very surprised screaming about monsters, or a sincere thank you and the occasional offer to be thanked in some other way. Which he always declined, because that would be taking advantage.
This guy, this… asshole. He was different.
“I had that,” he was immediately yelling at Derek.
Different, and clearly delusional.
“You were seconds away from death,” Derek wondered if The Asshole was on something. “The Omega’s fangs were inches from tearing your throat out.”
Derek had jumped in immediately, without a thought for his own safety. As an Alpha, he’d heal pretty damn quickly from anything a crazed Omega could do to him. And the guy almost getting his throat torn out was human - at least at first glance.
“As if,” The Asshole was actually laughing at him.
“I get that you probably have a weapon or two in hand,” Derek did not have the patience to be dealing with a hunter who thought himself invincible. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be killed.”
Though, he couldn’t smell any wolfsbane on this guy. He couldn’t smell much of anything, which was probably a bad sign. If hunters had somehow learned how to block their chemosignals, that would take away a large part of the advantage the wolves had over them.
They needed that advantage.
His pack was probably going to call him paranoid, since they had very little problems with hunters anymore, now that Chris Argent had turned out to be a decent person. But it wasn’t paranoia if it kept all of them alive.
“I don’t need weapons,” That Asshole rolled his eyes at Derek.
That was a new one. He hadn’t ever heard a hunter say that before. They were always so dependant on their guns and their wolfsbane - or even bows. This guy seemingly carried none of those things. Though he was wearing so many layers it was hard to tell.
“Do you have claws hidden underneath that plaid?” Derek had to ask.
Because that was the only way that The Asshole would have made it out alive. There was no way a human got that close to a rabid Omega without any weapons on him and still lived to tell the tale. Not without some kind of interference. Or someone saving their ungrateful ass.
“Nothing up my sleeves,” the guy pushed up said sleeves.
Nothing to see there. There was nothing special about this guy, until Derek turned to look at the Omega (the corpse) lying on the ground, and then looked up to find that The Asshole was nowhere to be found.
Well, fuck. Clearly this was no random human. The smell of petrichor told him that much - funny how that he could smell, when there was nothing about the magic-user himself that Derek could get a scent on. So he was powerful, and could have probably handled himself against that Omega - but was it worth the risk?
And still, a ‘thank you’ wouldn’t have been out of place here. Derek was just saving a life, it was That Asshole who had to make it into a big fight. Just because Derek hadn’t wanted him to die at the hands of a feral Omega.
That was about as kind as he got.
2 - The best Spark ever 1 - Grumpy Wolf 1
So clearly the Beacon Hills Alpha was a self-righteous ass, but it wasn’t like Stiles could just let him die. That would be… less than ideal for his standing in the local community. Also, he wasn’t actually that much of an asshole. Not usually, not to anyone who didn’t deserve it.
He was just in doubt about how much the Alpha deserved it.
Still, there was a difference between actively being an asshole to someone and letting them die because of a troupe of egomaniac hunters. Beacon Hills needed an Alpha, and Stiles was going to get one over on the asshole Alpha - so clearly two reasons to do the right thing. That and Stiles’ hatred of hunters. That made three.
Ugh, guess he had to show off now. He hated doing that (no he didn’t).
“Hello there fellas,” Stiles did enjoy playing the harmless human card when it gave him an advantage. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but it feels like the start of a bullying PSA.”
That stopped these rednecks in their tracks - and seriously, why were hunters usually rednecks? Was it the racism or the love of guns? Or both? Both.
“You’d best get on your merry way, boy,” the one with the baseball cap started threatening him.
And that meant he really didn’t know what he was up against, which was awesome for Stiles but not so much for these guys. And not so much for the Alpha’s ego, clearly, because he was halfway to growling at Stiles before he even spoke up. Right, because it was perfectly fine for Stiles to be the damsel but this guy is too manly to be put in that position?
Fucking toxic masculinity!
“I’m going to need your pet Alpha for that,” Stiles grinned. “I kinda called dibs.”
That surprised them enough that Stiles could get off the first spell with a quick flick of the wrist - a modification of the mountain ash circle that allowed nothing or no one to enter or exit the circle without Stiles’ permission. And since the asshole Alpha was very much outside that circle…
“You’re welcome,” Stiles cocked his head, waiting for some appreciation from said Alpha.
He got none.
The Alpha was basically growling at him. “You called dibs?”
Maybe that wasn’t the best thing he could have said about an apparently extremely paranoid Alpha. But he’d already said it, and well, he stood by it. Because underneath that anger, and the heavy brow, and the asshole behavior… Well, underneath all of that the Alpha was kind of hot and Stiles would have hate-sexed him in a heartbeat. If, you know, he wasn’t an ungrateful ass. Or if he seemed like the kind of guy who was into hate-sex.
“I’m sorry, are these rednecks more your type?” Stiles had no trouble keeping the circle intact. “I am not sure you’re kink-compatible.”
The joking just riled the Alpha up even more, which was a whole different level of entertaining. And watching the Alpha’s eyebrows twitch when Stiles easily tightened the circle the hunters were still trapped in, well that was just the icing on the cake, really. The guy was really pissed off that Stiles was powerful enough to save himself and others - such a savior complex.
“Well, I’d best be off,” Stiles wasn’t going to let the Asshole Alpha get another word in. “I have some criminals to hand-deliver to the Sheriff. You’re welcome.”
And with that, he left an Alpha werewolf in the dust. Like a BAMF.
3 - Dangerous magic user 1 - Derek 2
There was no way that Derek was going to let a dangerous magic user run through Beacon Hills unchecked. This was his territory, and it was his job to keep people safe, and therefore it was his job to know when dangerous people were around who risked tipping the balance.
And this guy - there was no way that he wasn’t dangerous. Someone that powerful, who could trap groups of hunters with a flick of his wrist and casually drag a protective circle after him… Maybe Derek had trust issues - and he knew he did - but he couldn’t trust the intentions of anyone that powerful. Especially when this person hadn’t even introduced himself to the pack, which was supposed to be tradition.
It almost made him miss Deaton. At least he remembered how things were supposed to work, enigmatic as he might have been before randomly bailing two months ago. He never even explained why he left or where he’d gone. And he’d left no forwarding address.
The wendigos were a bit more of an urgent issue, though.
Derek’d had to look through his mother’s old journals, the one she always locked up in the vault because she didn’t want the kids to get their hands on them. She’d spoken of the creatures, mentioned how dangerous they were and how imperative it was that they be kept far away from humans - especially those who were born with magic in their blood.
Did he mention that wendigos had an immunity to most spells?
Clearly the pain in the ass magic user hadn’t done the research, because he was still out there, in the Preserve in the middle of the night, flinging spells at an advancing wendigo. Derek knew his pack was dealing with the rest of the family, but they’d left the most dangerous one to him - as they should. Derek healed faster than they did.
“Get out of the way,” he threw himself into battle without another thought. “They’re mostly immune to magic. You need to get to safety.”
The magic user didn’t listen, not right away. But Derek couldn’t spend too much energy keeping track on him, not when he had a cannibalistic creature to get rid of. Looking back once already earned him a slash across the ribs, and he was lucky it wasn’t worse.
“What the hell is that thing?”
So clearly the magic user wasn’t leaving.
“Wendigo,” Derek shouted at him. “Now leave. Please. I’ve got this.”
The please just… came out. It was completely unlike their previous interactions, but Derek had said it and now he had to deal with it. Or he could just pretend he’d never said it and deal with a dangerous monster instead. That sounded like the better option.
Sometimes he wished there was another way to deal with a wendigo. But there wasn’t. His mother had tried, several times even, and if Talia Hale couldn’t do it… It had to be impossible.
He took a deep breath, trying to center himself, trying to anchor himself to his pack as he let the wolf into the driver’s seat. Against a creature like this, it is best to shift completely. Like his mother had.
It hurt to have his bones completely rearrange themselves, but he was used to pain. It helped him heal the scratches from the wendigo a bit quicker too.
“Holy shit, did you just?” Mage was still there.
Derek-wolf growled at him. Not safe for Mage with nice scent .
Not until after he shifted back, his body too tired to maintain the shift after he’d managed to defeat the angry wendigo singlehanded, did he realize that the magic user had never left. That he’d stuck around to watch Derek save his stupid life, for some reason.
Though he disappeared as soon as Derek’s pack came to find him.
He didn’t say thank you. Not surprising.
4 - The Amazing Mischief 2 - Sexy Wolf 2
So apparently the Alpha could actually turn into a wolf. Stiles was reluctantly impressed. Reluctantly, because the guy was still an asshole who thought Stiles couldn’t handle himself against one single wendigo - and yeah, okay, maybe he was right about the whole immunity to magic thing, but still.
But the full shift? Impressive. Saying please? Heartbreaking. Protecting Stiles even in full wolf form? Confusing. Stupid. Weird.
Grudging acceptance was not the way he wanted to go with this guy.
And so, when he saw another chance to piss the Alpha off by saving his ass, even though he had a whole pack he could call in for backup instead… Stiles just had to take it.
And yeah, technically he was the protector of the town now, after that vet had just disappeared and his Dad had dragged him back from Poland because they really needed the help. And after the weeks he’s had, with the Omega and the hunters and a family of wendigos - well, Stiles is never dismissing the Hellmouth-like quality of Beacon Hills ever again. So technically it was now his job to protect idiot martyr Alphas - even though his job description just said “consultant”.
Ugh, damn Alpha werewolf and his martyr complex.
“We have got to stop meeting like this, Sourwolf,” Stiles leaps in front of the monster with a smug grin on his face.
Is that actually a fucking kanima? He’s never seen one of those in the flesh before.
“Of course you’re here,” the Alpha is not amused.
“Danger’s calling,” Stiles shrugged as he erected a magical shield. “Did you murder anyone recently? Other than the wendigo? Because he shouldn’t be after you like this, sexy wolf.”
That one just kind of slipped out, but Stiles was certainly not going to walk it back. No, he was totally going to own it - he’d hit on Alpha werewolves before. Sure, those were probably less hot - and less of an asshole. Infuriatingly, that made this guy just Stiles’ type.
Which was something he’d have to contemplate after he saved him from the kanima.
“Please just call me Derek,” the Alpha hid his face.
Because he was actually… blushing? That was awesome. Even the kanima seemed to think it was funny, which was just…
“Is he our new Daddy?”
Where the kanima had just stood, a smug douche-looking guy had taken his place. There was still a slimy quality about him, but it didn’t seem like they were in any kind of real danger, so Stiles figured he could drop the shield.
“You interrupted our sparring session,” Alpha Derek had crossed his arms over his solid chest.
And no, Stiles, that was a terrible road to go down.
Best to focus on the fact that there was a fucking kanima in the pack, and no one had bothered to inform him of that. He was going to have to have words with his Dad about this. Yes, his father would hear about this.
“Still saved your wolfy butt,” Stiles had to argue.
“I was in no danger whatsoever,” Derek rolled his eyes.
Ugh, the sass was a great look on him, and that was just unfair. He was just glad he was good at masking scent, because he did not want the wolf to have that kind of advantage.
“Still counts.”
Figuring that was a decent enough exit line, Stiles made a magical escape. Sure, it was a waste of his power, but he was trying to make a good impression here. Sort of.
5 - Mr. Stilinski if you’re nasty 3 - Derek freaking Hale 2
Research was key, especially when dealing with a pack that he was going to be having dealings with for a long time, if his Dad had his way. Dad was so happy to finally have Stiles close again, that he was about five seconds away from setting up a play-date with Alpha Hale and his pack. He only dropped it when Stiles assured him that he had it handled.
Sure, his Dad only dropped it long enough to seriously laugh at him, but it worked.
So the next time he approached the Hale pack, he followed the protocol that Babcia had drummed into him. Which was all well and good, until they got attacked like ten seconds after Stiles had finally properly introduced himself to Derek.
“Chimeras,” the blonde girl cursed. “Fucking chimeras.”
Oh, his Dad had filled him in on those, and Stiles was not in any way looking forward to this, but he was prepared to handle them. If he had to, because those kids had probably not asked to be turned into this, had not asked to be made feral.
“We just have to hold them off long enough for Lydia to get the cure,” Derek showed why he was actually a good Alpha. “Stay safe. Be careful. Don’t go after them alone. You know Theo and his traps.”
Fucking Theo was still around? Of course he was. He was never happy until he was making everyone in this town miserable. Sucked for him that Stiles was back now, because Stiles had never had any patience for his brand of dangerous bullshit. Also, Stiles was way more powerful than he was, and he was going to enjoy rubbing that in Theo’s face.
Just, well, he still didn’t want to hurt any innocent people.
“There’s a cure?” Stiles turned to Derek. “I can hold them for a while. How long do you need?”
The look on Derek’s face was just unfair. It was grateful, warm, pleased - Derek trusted him, trusted Stiles with his life and his pack’s lives. And that was… stupid of him. Sure, Stiles had saved his life… well this would be the third time’s charm.
Okay maybe it wasn’t stupid.
And maybe they made it work, with the girl named Lydia - he vaguely remembered her from elementary school, before his Mom died and he went to live with Babcia to get a handle on his abilities - and all of Derek’s pack. But Stiles’ powers were the only reason no one was harmed while they waited for the cure to work.
That wasn’t arrogance, that was the painful truth.
“Thank you,” Derek looked at him way too sincerely.
“Yeah, had to save that hot ass,” Stiles was babbling, he knew he was. “Disregard that. I’m just going to go. Because well, it’s your turn next. Or whatever.”
It was. Stiles was in the lead now, and it wasn’t like Stiles wanted to be saved… He just wanted to be chased, a little. Maybe wanted Derek to like him. He wanted this not to be the last of this thing they were doing. He didn’t want to go back to the politics of it, the usual business of the pack and the protector.
He kinda just… wanted Derek. Which was stupid, but it was what is was.
6 - Stiles 3 - Derek 3
It took Jackson about fifteen jokes about getting a new daddy to get Derek moving. Yeah, he was disappointed in himself too.
But Stiles - and what even was that name - was different. He was the Sheriff’s son, a good old boy from Beacon Hills, but he was also a powerful mage and the most immature asshole Derek knew outside of his own pack. Derek was drawn in by him, like magic, but it was also terrifying.
But when he saw those hunters, those very same hunters that Stiles had chased off a few weeks ago, trying to move in for some revenge… Well, he didn’t even think. He just leapt, growled at them like they couldn’t just put him down with a single bullet.
“Stay away from him,” he growled out from a suddenly fanged mouth.
So much for his fabled control. Because they were threatening Stiles, and Stiles was…
Not his. Not like pack, no matter how badly Derek wanted just that. Because Stiles had proven himself worthy, putting himself out there for Derek, risking himself to keep Derek’s pack safe. It made him special, made him worth taking note of as a potential ally. It was the humor, the flirting, the seeming fearlessness that made Stiles worth taking note of as a potential partner.
“Did the beast find himself a pet human?” Hunters were never original.
“A friend,” Derek growled. “A mage. A powerful mage. And the son of the Sheriff.”
Maybe he thought of Stiles as just another harmless human at first, as someone who needed protecting. He knew better now, knew just how dangerous Stiles could be to people who meant harm. Staying back and letting Stiles handle things was never going to be his first instinct, but having Stiles and his bag of tricks around could make such a difference in this dangerous town. They could really make a difference here.
“Skip the mating rituals,” the hunters were not impressed.
“I have Chris Argent on speed dial,” Derek warned, and somehow that worked.
Derek kept his claws out, kept up the beta shift just to be sure, but the hunters backed off Stiles and walked away. Sure, they’d be back, but Derek could handle it. Or he could let Chris do it.
“Guess we’re tied now,” Stiles turned to him, impish grin on his face.
“I’m sure we’ll have more opportunities,” Derek responded, because he knew exactly what this was. “But I’m not just going to let you win.”
This was actually a mating ritual - it was courting in the most roundabout way. And he didn’t have to doubt Stiles’ interest, because he was right there with him. They could bicker and get to know each other later, but the interest was obvious from both sides.
“Good,” Stiles stepped in closer.
“How about we go on a date that doesn’t involve violence?” Derek found himself making the first move. “Tomorrow night?”
That put him in the lead in another competition, and Stiles was already getting pouty that he hadn’t been the first to score. It was childish and overly competitive and perfect for Derek.
“I had that,” Stiles huffed. “I was going to ask you.”
Good, so at least they were definitely on the same page. And Stiles was going to say yes when he got over not being the one to ask.
“You snooze, you lose,” Derek pointed out.
“You’re terrible and I can’t believe I’m dating you,” Stiles rolled his eyes.
Okay, so maybe Stiles wasn’t over it yet, but he could work on it. His pack was going to mock him for all eternity, but Derek kind of couldn’t wait for Stiles to be a real part of his pack.
“I’m assuming that’s a yes,” Derek grinned. “Pick you up at seven.”
As Stiles huffed and puffed and groaned, Derek was the one making a perfectly-timed exit this time.
Score for Hale.