#sterekbingo2019

[midnightisquiet]

Sterek Bingo 2019 - Triskelion

the past -//- the present -//- the future

[justjimedits]

[jmeelee]

Derek’s not sure what’s more alarming: that he never heard footsteps on the rickety, rusted-out fire escape, or that Stiles Stilinski is lurking in his bedroom in the middle of the night.

His eyes snap open, focusing with pinpoint precision on the intruder, who reaches long, slender fingers toward the vase of drooping daffodils on his nightstand.

“What are you doing?” Derek croaks as Stiles’ hand grazes a soft yellow petal.

He whips the wandering appendage back like he’s been burned, locking startled, bloodshot brown eyes on Derek’s prone form.

“I…” Stiles stops, glances around, eyes falling back to the small, wilting bouquet, the only spot of cheery color in the dark, sparse room. “Really, dude? Flowers? You realize a few blooms won’t cover up the fact that this loft is a shithole?”

Derek sits up, cotton sheet pooling around his waist. Stiles’ eyes rake down his bare chest, a phantom caress leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Did you break in just to insult my apartment?”

“Whoa, rude. Pot, meet kettle.” Stiles shrugs one shoulder. “Besides, your window was wide open. You’re lucky it was only me.”

Derek scrubs a hand down his face. He may not know Stiles well, but he can tell when he’s stalling. “Stiles, what do you want?”

Stiles continues as if Derek never spoke. “I never pictured you as a flower guy. Did a girlfriend give you these? My mom loved daffodils. There used to be a flower sale when I was in elementary school, right around Mother’s Day, and my dad would give me money to buy her a few. I always used the spare change to buy an extra ice cream at lunch. Hate to break it to you man, but fresh air isn’t going to do these suckers any good. They’re past their prime.”

He flicks a cup-shaped corona, spraying a fine sheen of pollen into the balmy night air, and Derek lets loose a low, menacing growl. Stiles’ outstretched hand trembles slightly with his quickening heartbeat, but one deep breath pulls a blanket of composure over his fear. He turns toward the window, shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t… I… Screw this. I’m leaving.”

A hand snaps out, encircling Stiles’ wrist before he can take a step. “What’s wrong?”

The question Derek should ask is what isn’t wrong. In the past few months they’ve faced off against a darach and a nogitsune. And before that, it was a kanima and a homicidal rouge alpha. They’ve all stared hell in the face, but Derek wagers none more so than Stiles. Weakened after his split from the fox demon, Stiles is a shadow of his former frantic self. Dark circles stain the translucent skin under his eyes, and his already-skinny frame is emaciated.

Stiles’ gaze sticks fast to the vase, steady beat of his heart thumping against the pad of Derek’s thumb. “I can’t sleep. I haven’t been sleeping since…” He looks toward Derek, blinking fast. “Everytime I close my eyes, I see Allison’s face.”

Derek speaks many languages, but they all fail him in the face of Stiles’ pain. So he waits for Stiles to inevitably fill the silence, poorly attempting to convey empathy via his eyebrows. His sisters, both living and dead, always told him the expression made him look constipated, but it’s all he knows.

“I can’t go to Scott with this,” Stiles continues, as Derek knew he would. “I don’t want to hurt him—hurt anyone—more than I already have. Lydia is grieving for Aiden, Danny misses Ethan and Jackson, and Malia is… complicated. My father is worried sick and the last thing I want to do is burden him with a crazy son. Again. I don’t…” He shudders on an inhale. “It was stupid to come here, but I have nowhere else to go.”

Silence stretches between them, woeful and taut. Derek wishes, for the hundredth time in a span of seconds, that he’d inherited his mother’s soft, soothing solace, or his father’s confident gestures of comfort. At the rogue thought of his dad, Derek waves toward the sagging daffodils.  

“My father was a florist.” Yeah, Derek sucks at this.

Stiles scrunches his nose. “Uh. Okay?”

He marches on. In for a penny, in for a pound. “It’s how he and my mother met. He was a human florist. Ran a shop outside of town. Floriography was his passion, and she’d heard about him, sought him out when her pack needed help with medicinal herbs. They fell in love and she turned him.”

Stiles is soaking up Derek’s tale like a dehydrated man in the desert, so he charges on. “My father had this book my mother gave him called Le Langage des Fleurs.” The French slides off Derek’s tongue like silk. “We used to read it together, but it burned up in the fire.” The with everything and everyone else remains loudly unspoken. “Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings.”

He slips from the bed, sheet falling to the floor. Thank goodness he wore boxers to bed. Gently, he moves aside the yellow flowers to reveal violet and crimson sweet pea. “These mean thankfulness. It’s a bouquet I arranged after Cora returned. There’s a bunch on her nightstand, too.”

Stiles delicately fingers the petals again. “Why are you telling me this?”

Growing up, his father had filled every room in the house with flowers. On the bad nights, when vivid nightmares rip him from sleep, he swears he can still smell petals burning. “Because, despite everything that’s happened, they help me,” Derek explains. “Flowers make me feel closer to my family, let me express what I’m feeling.”

“I have noticed you’re really bad at that, dude.”

Derek glares. “The point is, you’ve got to find what helps you.” Derek realizes he’s still loosely holding Stiles’ wrist, and quickly drops his hand. Luckily, the awkwardness is broken by the sudden loud complaint of Stiles’ empty stomach.

Stiles laughs, and Derek’s heart breaks a little when he realizes it’s been months since he’s heard the sound. He wraps it around himself like a garland. “Food would help,” Stiles declares.

Derek bends down, grabs a pair of sweatpants off the floor. Stiles mummers something about underwear models under his breath, and Derek flips him off over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s raid the fridge. Cora just went grocery shopping.”

----------

“Derek. Care to explain why I found Stilinski in our pantry this morning, eating Nutella straight from the jar?” Cora crosses her arms over her chest, menacing despite her striped pajamas and bed head.

Derek scowls, bracing for a fight. “He’s struggling, Cora. He didn’t want to be alone, so I told him he could crash on the couch last night. I’ll buy you a new jar next time I’m at Costco.”

She hums, crossing her ankles on top of the coffee table, painted toes almost touching a vase of stargazer lilies. “This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?”

“No.” Derek nips the insinuation in the bud.

It totally becomes a thing.

———-

Derek stills when he enters his room and finds Stiles sitting cross-legged on his bed. He can feel his hackles instinctively rise at the invasion of his personal space, Stiles’ scent already seeping into the mattress. His gym bag thumps to the hardwood floor.

“What do these mean?” Stiles questions, pointing to the fresh purple and white flowers.

“Lavender has lots of meanings, but it’s a healing plant. People have used it for centuries; it calms you down and helps you sleep.” Derek points first to the purple florets on the long, skinny stem, then to the white flowers on the thick green stalks. “And Heather is for luck, protection and making wishes come true.”

“Heather,” Stiles whispers, small smile quickly overtaken by a frown carving deep lines around his generous mouth. He shakes his head like a wet dog, dislodging whatever morose memories have tried to take hold. “So, want to watch a movie or something?”

Derek whips off his white tank top and tosses it in the general direction of the hamper. Stiles’ eyes go wide. “Sure, but I’ve got to shower first. Here,” he chucks his cellphone into Stiles’ lap. “Order us some pizzas, I’m starving.” He heads for the door, speaking over his shoulder. “Get me ham and pineapple.”

“Gross dude!” Stiles yells at his retreating back.

———-

Week three brings horehound and azalea, and a trial run of Claudia Stilinski’s chocolate chip cookie recipe. Derek, Stiles and Cora eat twenty-four cookies between them.

Week four is gardenia, morning glory and blue salvia, and Cora’s thoughtful, “He’s better, more rested. He’s thriving. Don’t you think?”

———

“What was that book called? The one your dad read to you?” Stiles is contemplating camellia, eyebrows drawn.

“Le Langage des Fleurs. The Language of Flowers. He had a first edition from 1819, and handled it like he was holding a newborn.” Derek chuckles, remembering his father’s gentle hands, the memory crisp and sweet as an apple blossom in his mind. “He was ridiculous.”

Two weeks later Derek comes home to hydrangeas, the fading scent of Stiles, and a copy of Le Langage des Fleurs lying on his desk. He picks it up, runs a finger down the spine, and his father bursts into technicolor life before his eyes. It’s not a first edition, but to Derek, it’s priceless.

———

A war rages between Derek’s head and heart, as Stiles peacefully sleeps, belting out an occasional snore and drooling on Derek’s favorite pillow.

It’s your own damn bed. Get in.

You can’t. Not without his permission. Wake him up and tell him to get his ass to the couch.

It’s only sleeping. He won’t mind.

His father might be wondering where he is. Don’t worry the Sheriff or you’ll end up arrested. Again.

“Damnit,” Derek whispers, and crawls into bed, lying down next to Stiles on top of the blankets. As far as truces go, it’s pretty weak.

The movement, though careful, wakes Stiles, and he rolls toward Derek, blinking. “You’re warm,” Stiles mumbles. “Stay.”

Derek does.

_______

“I’m planning on visiting the cemetery Saturday morning,” Derek broaches. “I usually bring some flowers for the graves.” A pregnant pause. “I could gather some for you to take, if you want to come along.”

———

They stop first at Derek’s family plot, and Stiles helps him tend to the zinnias Derek planted around the graves when he first returned to Beacon Hills.

“Ready?” Derek squints in the bright morning light at Stiles’ shadowed face.

A sigh. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Allison’s tombstone is shiny and summer-warm, and Stiles tenderly lays a spray of willow, asphodel lily and wormwood at the base. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Tears track down Stiles’ cheeks, but he doesn’t swipe them away, letting them evaporate in the sun, leaving behind a tang of salt Derek can taste in the air. “I’m so sorry.”

An entirely different Stiles walks back to the Camaro, a familiar one. The effortless, supernatural confidence of the nogitsune and the quiet, sad stillness of grieving are shed with each step, a much-needed abscission. Rosy cheeks replace a pallid parlor, and fidgety fingers dance along the tops of headstones they pass. The return to normalcy rattles loose a content noise from Derek’s chest.

“What is it, big guy?”   

“You’re kind of like a flower, ya know,” Derek replies, before he can internally talk himself out of the confession.

The corners of Stiles’ mouth gradually rise. “If you mean I’m beautiful and smell fantastic, yes, I did know.”

Derek punches him lightly in the arm, and Stiles reels away with a dramatic flailing of limbs. “Some flowers come back year after year, after being buried under snow and ice, and they’re stronger than ever. Take a lotus, for example. It grows in the darkness and mud, but when it reaches the light…” Derek finishes his statement in reverent hush. “It becomes something exquisite.”

“So you’re saying I’m resilient?” Stiles playfully rubs the spot where Derek hit him, but his gaze is shy and tender. Derek refuses to cultivate the seeds that look plants inside his heart, desperately pruning the roots already wrapping around his ribs. “A rose grown in a concrete garden?”

“I’m saying you’re a weed and I can’t get rid of you.”

In slow motion, Stiles reaches out, twines their fingers together like creeping vines, and squeezes once. “I don’t think you want to get rid of me, Derek Hale.”

His mother raised him not to lie, so Derek keeps his mouth shut.

———

He’s roused by the creaking of his bedroom door and Stiles’ shuffling feet. They’d given him a key three weeks ago, when the midnight visits petered off and Stiles started knocking on the front door—in the daylight—like a normal person.

“What time is it?” Derek slurs, fumbling for his phone.

“Three a.m.,” Stiles whispers.

The return to nocturnal visits can’t mean anything good. Derek sits up. “Nightmares?”

Stiles stands at the foot of the bed, worrying the hem of his Lacrosse sweatshirt. “No,” he answers, voice husky. “I haven’t had a nightmare in weeks.”

“Okay. Good.” Stiles shuffles from foot to foot. “Is something… What do you need?” Honeysuckle, wisteria and coriander tickle Derek’s nose.

“You.”

Derek doesn’t hesitate, lifting up the sheets in invitation. “Come on in.”

“Yeah, no.” Stiles shakes his head, eyes bambi-wide. “See, I’m not looking for comfort tonight.”

Derek’s heartbeat trips over itself. He clears his throat, never lowering the blankets. “Well, you’re in luck. I’m shit at comfort anyway.”

“Liar liar, pants on fire,” Stiles whispers, and climbs into bed. Then, “Oh! Look at that. You’re not wearing any pants.”

———-

The doorbell rings at dinnertime, and Derek yells for Stiles to enter, but he remains planted on the hallway doormat, galloping heartbeat beckoning Derek like a siren song.

Derek slides the loft door along the track. “You can come in. You have a key for god’s s—”

The bouquet is bigger than Stiles’ head, bursting with red tulips and yarrow, jonquil and plumeria. Smack in the center is a monstrous sunflower.

“I read the book—well, an English version—before I gave it to you. I hope I didn’t screw this up.” He holds the flowers out to Derek.

Derek accepts them, cradling them to his chest. He plucks out a butter-yellow jonquil, gently offering it back to Stiles with his right hand.

To an outsider, Stiles’ rampant ramblings and Derek’s severe allergy to words would render them incompatible, but Stiles’ smile is so bright it could sustain an entire garden, and Derek knows they’re finally speaking the same language.

“I’m just as much of a mess as you are, Stiles,” Derek warns. “You need healthy soil to grow, and we’re both still healing. Maybe we’ll always be healing. Trees don’t bear fruit on demand.”

Stiles rubs at the back of his neck. “True. But, think about it. All we can do is create the best possible conditions, feed and water the right seeds. I trust nature to take care of the rest. But the parts we have control over? We’ll work on those together.”

Derek grins, and the future unfurls before them, full of potential. He steps back, and Stiles crosses the threshold.

“Together,” Derek agrees. Together.

[nightlight9]

Ride With Me

Theme: Masqurade

Rating: G

—————

Stiles allows a smile to pull his lips up as he’s handed a flute of champagne. Standing here, dressed in a fine suit, no one questions his presence at this party. The intricate fox mask covering his eyes helps too, but even without it he doubts that the people swarming around him would be alarmed by his presence. There are so many people moving through the grand ballroom that knowing all of them would be surely impossible. Lucky for Stiles, he only needs to recognize one person.

Standing stiffly to one side of the room, a lone figure captures Stiles’ attention. The man is wearing a black feathered mask instead of the wolf one that Stiles had been expecting to find, but he recognizes him all the same.

Without taking a drink, Stiles sets his glass down on the nearest table, takes a deep breath, and crosses the room. As he moves, Stiles keeps most of his attention on the people around him. For his mission to be successful, Stiles has to make sure that both Gerard and Kate Argent are too preoccupied with their party to see their wolf getting pulled from the room.

Gerard is sitting at a table with a large group of older men, all of whom are surrounded by empty glasses of champagne. Kate is similarly indisposed; her attention is focused solely on the young man that she’s dancing with, her hands wandering to places that Stiles doesn’t want to think about. Satisfied that they won’t notice him, he takes the finally steps forward stopping only when he’s shoulder to shoulder with the man in the black mask.

“Good evening, sir,” he greets, voice honey sweet. The man jerks back in surprise, as though he hadn’t noticed Stiles’ approach. Moving quickly, Stiles reaches out for the man’s wrist. The blade hidden in his sleeve presses against the stranger’s pulse, enough of a threat for him to know that Stiles means business.

He swallows. “I could scream,” he ponders aloud, though he keeps his voice whisper soft, his attention focused on the room.

Stiles smiles. “You could. But this blade is poisoned with wolfsbane. They might catch me, but you would be dead before they would even think of saving you.”

He almost expects the man to argue, but all he asks is, “What is it that you want?”

Grin widening, Stiles peers at him as best he can through his mask. “Actually, I’m here looking for you, Derek Hale.”

The sound of his name makes the man jerk back, and Stiles is careful to make sure that the blade doesn’t break skin. The last thing that he needs is to accidentally poison him. “I-you-. Who are you?”

Stiles shrugs carefully, keeping his smile locked firmly in place. “It doesn’t matter who I am. All that matters is that I get you out of here.” He presses the blade harder against Derek’s skin. “It would be smart not to try and fight to escape.”

Derek makes a disbelieving sound and inclines his head. “Then by all means, lead the way, sir.”

Humming, Stiles twines their hands together, that way he can lead Derek but also keep his blade at the ready. Derek holds tight and makes no move to try and escape or warn anyone about what is really happening between the two men.

Both Gerard and Kate are too busy to notice them slip by, and to anyone else they look like a pair of lovers turning in early, just like Stiles planned. He’s thankful when they skip out of the room and he has a chance to lead Derek toward the stables at a quicker pace.

“If you’re after money I’m afraid that you will be quite disappointed. I’m not worth anything to Kate or her father.” It’s said simply, matter-of-fact.

Stiles scoffs. “Let me worry about that, will you, Hale?” The stable hands barely spare them a glance as Stiles rounds up the two horses he tucked away for them before the party began. It feels risky offering Derek his own horse, risky enough that Stiles hesitates handing the reins over. Unfortunately, having two grown men share a horse seems like a terrible idea, and so he offers the horse to Derek after all. “Here, she’s for you.”

Unexpectedly, Derek crosses his arms over his chest and doesn’t move. “Why should I trust you?”

Stiles gaps at him, surprised that Derek is suddenly resisting. Schooling his expression, he pulls his lips into a sly grin that helps him feel more in control. “You shouldn't. Last I checked, I was kidnapping you. Now take the damn horse.”

Tugging the masquerade mask from his face, Derek glares at him. “The only reason that we made it this far is because I’ve cooperated with you, but now I think I deserve some answers.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Actually, I think that it had more to do with my knife pressed against your skin then your gracious cooperation.”

Derek’s glare hardens. “If you were smart enough to coat the blade with wolfsbane than you know what I am, which means that you wouldn't have made it very far at all if I didn’t come with you.”

He wants to argue more, but arguing is wasting time. So, even though he was advised against it, Stiles decides to be honest.

“Fine, fine. You’re a strong, intimidating werewolf who I couldn’t take down even with limitless magick at my disposal, how did you ever guess.” Ignoring Derek’s scowl, he barrels on. “You want to know why you should come with me on your own free will? Because, I’m taking you to your sister. Is that a good enough reason?’’

Derek’s jaw drops. “I-. Laura? But she-. My family, they-.”

Stiles deflates, reaching up to undo the knot on his mask so that he can pull it to one side. “Laura survived. She’s working to take back the kingdom, and hired my team to go after you. Everyone thought that it was a hopeless venture, but she persisted. And here we are.” He gestures back to the horse. “So can we please get going? The longer we linger, the better chance we have at getting caught.”

The look of anguish on Derek’s face is hard to look at. “I can’t go,” he mutters, sounding lost. Before Stiles can demand to know why he wants to stay, Derek holds out his wrists. Two golden cuffs, sparkling with magick, circle both of his wrists. “Kate has these created so that I couldn’t run away. They’re bound to her and this house. I can’t-. They trap my wolf too.”

Stiles understands now why Derek never once flashed eyes or threatened his shift, and his heart breaks a little at how lost he must have felt without his wolf for so long, how human this magick has left him. Carefully, Stiles reaches out and rests his hands on the cuffs, feeling the magick work under his hands. He meets Derek’s gaze. “Get ready to leave as soon as I break this enchantment. Kate will probably feel it snap, and then she’ll come to find you. We won’t have time to waste.”

Derek swallows once and nods, gaze intense.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles closes his eyes and taps into his magick, winding his consciousness though the spell on the cuffs until he can unravel their power. The spell is surprisingly easy to unravel, a sure sign of Kate’s arrogant confidence. When he opens his eyes and releases his magick, Derek is watching him intently, eyes glowing a beautiful, inhuman blue.

“I can feel Laura,” he breathes sounding awed. Then his gaze snaps to the stable door. “We have to go!”

Stiles rolls his eyes and swings himself into his horses saddle. “I told you to be ready.”

Derek bares his teeth in response, but the gesture is more playful than threatening. He clambers onto his horse, and then Stiles is taking off, praying that Derek will follow without hesitation. He spares a glance back when he reaches the mansion gates, and Derek grins up at him, eyes wild and reckless and hopeful while Kate’s guards shout helplessly behind them. Stiles smiles back, and turns around to watch where he’s going. He has a prince to return to his sister, a war to win, and then maybe he'll have a chance to explore why his magick has warmed in response to Derek’s wolf. For now though, all he can do is ride.

[halevetica]

Separated(Sterek)

Sterek Bingo Theme: Faeries

The knock on Stiles' door at almost three a.m. wasn't nearly as alarming as the sight on the other side. Stiles was used to the pack showing up at odd hours with questions, concerns, research requests, but the one person who never just showed up was Derek. He would always call or text first, making sure he wasn't bothering Stiles. So when Stiles opened his door to see Derek looking like a terrified puppy, dread washed over him like a tidal wave.

"Derek?" Stiles glanced behind him, expecting someone else but the alpha was alone.

"I-I didn't know where else to go," Derek's voice was weak and quiet, very different from the usual authoritative tone he held.

"What's wrong?" Stiles moved aside, allowing Derek into his small one bedroom apartment.

"I..." Derek's hands were shaking as he ran them over his face.

"Hey, look at me," Stiles took Derek's hands in his, forcing the alpha to meet his eyes.

Derek let out a sob before burying his face into Stiles' chest.

"Whoa," Stiles didn't know what to do. Derek was not an affectionate person, ever. It only made Stiles worry more.

"Hey, talk to me," Stiles coaxed Derek gently, his arms wrapping around the alpha.

"She took it away from me. I'm...I'm nothing," Derek sobbed.

"What? Who took what?" Stiles pulled back so he could see Derek's face.

"The Fairy. You were right, I never should have confronted her," Derek's head dropped to his chest.

"Oh, Derek," Stiles sighed as he led the alpha to the couch. "What happened?"

"I'm...I'm..." Derek buried his head in his hands.

"What did she take?" Stiles urged Derek to continue. He'd never had to console Derek before and didn't know the first thing about how to do it. What was the protocol for when your alpha shows up on your door in tears?

"My wolf," Derek sobbed into his hands.

"Wait, what?" Stiles hadn't been sure he heard that right.

"I'm just human now," Derek looked up, his eyes red from the tears.

Stiles' mouth fell open. Derek had been born a wolf; he'd never had to be human before. He couldn't imagine what he was going through.

"I don't understand, how did she-"

"She split us up. She used some spell and separated me from my wolf," Derek cut in.

"Wait, you mean there is a wolf out there just roaming around?" Stiles gestured towards his door.

Derek nodded.

"We need to find him, er you, or whatever," Stiles shook his head in confusion.

"I thought he'd come here," Derek's shoulders slumped.

"Why would you think that?" Stiles' face scrunched in the way it often did when he didn't understand something.

"It's the first place I came," Derek shrugged, his eyes not meeting Stiles'.

"Right, but this isn't you. I mean...not really you. This is your animal side. They don't think like humans do so..." Stiles waved his hands around as he spoke. "Where would your wolf want to go?"

Derek swallowed. He had genuinely thought his wolf would come here. Nobody knew, but Stiles was Derek's anchor.

"Nothing, really?" Stiles threw his hands up.

"I'm sorry," Derek shrugged again, his tired eyes meeting Stiles'.

"Look, don't apologize, alright? We'll figure this out, I promise. For now, you need to sleep," Stiles gestured towards his bedroom.

Derek's eyes went wide, "What?"

"Come one, you look like warmed up dog shit. I've got some research to do. You can fit in a couple of hours of sleep," Stiles grabbed Derek's hands and pulled him to his feet.

"But you need to sleep," Derek frowned at Stiles.

"Nah, I'm good. I wasn't asleep anyway, come on."

It was true, Stiles hadn't been asleep despite the late hour. He had been researching the faery Derek was supposed to not be confronting. Faeries were tricky and you had to know how to handle them. Derek had learned that lesson the hard way.

Stiles led Derek to his room pulled back the made up sheets.

"Just a few hours," Stiles urged Derek to lie down.

Derek let out a sigh. He would have said no but he was exhausted, and Stiles' scent was always calming to him.

He climbed into the bed and laid down.

"I'll just be in the other room," Stiles gestured to the door. "If you need anything."

Derek only nodded.

Once Stiles was out of the room and the door was closed, Derek buried his face into Stiles' pillow. The scent was there but without his werewolf abilities it was severely muted.

Tears pricked Derek's eyes again. He had hated crying in front of Stiles. He never cried in front of anyone, ever, but he had always been a werewolf and a part of him was literally missing. It hurt in a way Derek couldn't explain.

Stiles started to pace the small living room. He didn't know what to do. It was three a.m. so he couldn't do much yet, but he had to fix this. Seeing Derek like this hurt him deeply. He'd grown to care for Derek over the last few years. Their relationship was odd and looking in from the outside you'd think they hated each other. They fought like a newly divorced couple and always had snide remarks to say about the other. But they also worked well together. They disciplined the pack like seasoned parents. They trusted each other like best friends, and they protected each other like siblings. Anyone who knew the pair well enough knew the snide remarks were out of love and the disagreements were stemmed from concern and worry. And right now was no different.

"Stupid idiot," Stiles huffed under his breath. "I told you not to confront her."

Normally Derek would respond from the other room, having heard Stiles, but not this time and it made something in Stiles' stomach drop. Derek was human. He didn't hear Stiles.

Stiles ran a hand through his hair before grabbing his laptop, he had just sat on the couch with it when his bedroom door opened.

"Derek," Stiles was instantly back on his feet.

"I..." Derek's voice was timid, and his posture read as embarrassed.

Stiles waited patiently for Derek to continue, he knew pushing wasn't the way to get Derek to open up, it had taken years to learn how to handle Derek but now Stiles was a pro.

Derek cleared his throat, searching for an ounce of dignity in his tone, "I'm used to having a built-in alarm system, but I can't even hear you in here and..." Derek trailed off.

The urge to pull Derek into a hug gripped Stiles. He couldn't imagine how hard this was for Derek.

"I was wondering if maybe you could do your research in here, just so I can...relax," Derek was struggling to not sound pathetic. Asking the human to look after him was just insult to injury.

"Oh, of course," Stiles felt a swell of pride that Derek trusted him to look after him, but he also felt strange. Usually Derek was the one to look after him.

Derek settled back into bed while Stiles sat at his computer desk next to the window. He opened his laptop and set to work on his continued faery research.

Derek watched with admiring eyes as Stiles typed away on his computer, eyes scanning the screen, only pausing to scribble something in his notebook on occasion.

Derek wished he could hear Stiles' heartbeat. It was always calming to him. Anytime it was just the two of them working on something Derek would always listen to the soft thud, letting it calm his tense nerves. He often fell asleep to the sound on pack movie night. Without his heightened hearing though, the usual thrum of his personal lullaby fell deaf to his now human ears.

Derek watched as Stiles ran a stressed hand through his hair. It was something Stiles did often. But the little tug at the end showed his frustration. Derek had slowly picked up on the differences in Stiles' many mannerisms. Such as the way he would bite his bottom lip when anxious, or how he would tap his fingers when he was losing patience. Or how he would train his eyes on the ground when he was shy, or how he would reach for Derek's shoulder when he sensed the alpha's tension. It was small things like that that Derek had helped Derek learn how to manage Stiles. Not many people could, shy of Scott and his own dad, Stiles was a complicated person to handle. But Derek had figured him out. It hadn't been easy and he'd read things wrong more than once over the years, but now he had it all down pat and right now seeing Stiles tug gently at the strands of his hair as he ran his hand through, he knew, he wasn't just frustrated, he was stressed and getting nowhere.

"She told me something, but I don't know if it will mean anything to you," Derek spoke up then.

Stiles turned, not realizing Derek was still awake.

"She said distance makes the heart grow fonder," Derek recited tiredly. He'd repeated it to himself, trying desperately to make sense of it, but ultimately gave up.

"Why would you need to be fonder of your wolf? That doesn't make sense," Stiles shook his head. "Did she say anything else?"

Derek struggled to remember the chant she'd mumbled before he'd been separated. "Take from me and I'll take from you, your no longer one but now you're two. Sewing the seam cannot be done, until you find what makes you one."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Stiles threw his hands up.

"I don't know," Derek yawned.

Stiles let out a sigh, "Try not to worry about it. I'll see if I can make sense of her riddle."

Derek stared at the human as he scribbled on his notepad. He tried to imagine the sound of the pen scratching on the paper, the way his wolf would have heard it, but it was no use. With a heavy sigh he rolled over. He couldn't think about that. It was too hard.

-

When Derek woke up the next morning Stiles was still at his computer desk, but this time he had a coffee in his hands as he frowned at the screen.

"You're still up?" Derek commented, causing Stiles to jump. The coffee leapt from the cup and onto his shirt.

"Derek, I didn't wake you, did I?" Stiles asked, grabbing a napkin he had next to him. He wiped at the small stain as he looked over at Derek.

"No," Derek knew that if he'd had his werewolf abilities, he would have heard Stiles but he tried not to dwell on that.

"What time is it?" Derek asked, sitting up.

"Almost nine," Stiles answered looking at his computer screen once again.

"Stiles, you need to rest too. You've-"

"Here, I got you a towel and I swung by your place to get you a change of clothes and also to see if maybe your wolf-self had shown up there, he hadn't. Anyway. I hope that's okay." Stiles cut in gesturing towards a pile of clothes on Stiles' dresser.

"Thanks," Derek frowned but didn't say anything else. He hadn't even heard Stiles leave.

"I called Deaton and the rest of the pack. We're all working on getting this thing figured out. Scott, Malia and Isaac are trying to find your wolf. Lydia and Allison are looking for the Fairy that did this, to try and find out how to undo it. Deaton and Liam are looking into the riddle to see if they can decipher it."

"And you?" Derek looked at Stiles. He looked worn out. His eyes were bloodshot from staring at the computer screen all night. His shirt was stained with fresh coffee and his hair was a mess from his fingers spending half the night tugging at it. His shoulders were taught with obvious stress.

"I'm taking care of you," Stiles gave small lopsided grin.

Guilt washed over Derek. He didn't want to be the reason Stiles was sleep deprived and full of worry.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted her to leave. She wanted you, and I..." Derek trailed off. Stiles had pleaded with Derek not to let her get to him, but it was Stiles. She had taken a keen interest in the human and had offered him a spot in her court. Derek didn't know why a faery would want a human in her court, but she was insistent he was special. When Derek had heard, he immediately put Stiles in 'protective custody' refusing to let him be alone. Which had of course led to a heated argument between the pair. Derek having lost said argument had decided to confront her. He'd threatened her and she didn't take it well.

"I get it, but you shouldn't have, Derek. Was this really worth it?" Stiles gestured to the ex-werewolf.

Derek only dropped his eyes.

"Go shower, we've got work to do." Stiles urged, turning back to his computer.

Derek didn't argue, instead he grabbed his clothes and towel and closed himself in the bathroom.

Once Stiles was sure Derek was in the shower, he let his head drop into his hands. He hadn't told Derek that Lydia and Allison had found the faery less than ten minutes ago, shredded to pieces by what Stiles was guessing was Derek's wolf. He was too afraid to take that hope away from Derek. Not until he had some good news at least. Stiles was actually glad Derek didn't have his werewolf abilities, it made keeping his emotions in check much easier. He didn't have to worry that his scent was betraying his acting abilities. Derek had to take Stiles at his word.

Once out of the shower, Stiles tried to convince Derek to eat something but the ex-alpha insisted he wasn't hungry.

"I figured we could try and find your wolf," Stiles said, grabbing the keys to his jeep.

"I don't know where to start," Derek frowned. He'd been sure his wolf would find Stiles.

"Well Scott, Isaac, and Malia were checking the woods. We assumed he would still smell like you," Stiles gave a shrug, before opening the door for Derek.

"Stiles, I...I don't know how to do this," Derek shook his head. "Being human I mean." His eyes fell the the floor between them.

"Hey, listen to me," Stiles put his hand on Derek's shoulder causing him to look back up. "I'm gonna be right here the whole time. And if anyone is good at being a useless human it's me," Stiles gave a wink before leading Derek outside.

Derek didn't say anything as they made their way towards the parking garage.

Stiles was just about to unlock the jeep when a growling sound caused Stiles to pause.

"Uh, Stiles," Derek said backing slowly away from the jeep.

Stiles walked around to see a wolf crawling out from under the jeep, his teeth bared into a vicious snarl.

"Is that..."Stiles shoved the keys into Derek's hands and dropped to his knees between Derek and the wolf.

"Hey, Der, it's me, Stiles," He put a hand out, palm facing upwards.

"Stiles what are you doing?" Derek went to reach for Stiles, but the wolf lunged with a vicious snap causing him to jump back.

"It's okay, I've got this," Stiles urged Derek to back up.

Hesitantly Derek obliged.

The wolf crept closer his snarl lessening as he neared Stiles hesitantly.

"That's it, see? It's me," Stiles had hoped the wolf would recognize him as his pack member.

The wolf pressed his nose to Stiles' palm.

"I've got you, big guy," Stiles' hand cupped the chin of the wolf, giving a gentle scratch.

Derek watched with curious eyes as his wolf grew closer to Stiles.

"Okay so he doesn't like me, great, that'll make this easier," Derek quipped sarcastically.

"This is a good thing, that means he trusts me, and we know where he is. Now we just have to find out how to put you back together again," Stiles frowned, his hand now scratching behind the wolf's ears. "Like humpty dumpty," Stiles grinned widely.

"Humpty dumpty never got put back together, Stiles," Derek huffed in annoyance. He didn't know why he was so annoyed suddenly. Perhaps it was the way Stiles was so comfortable with his wolf.

"Yes he did, all the kings horses and all kings men...couldn't put humpty dumpty together again, shit, you're right," Stiles frowned as he realized how the rest of the nursery rhyme went.

"What are we gonna do with him?" Derek huffed, gesturing towards the wolf, earning a low growl.

"Derek," Stiles snapped standing to face the now human. "I know you're frustrated, but you need to relax. He can sense your hostility."

Derek's jaw clenched.

"I told you, I'm going to figure this out, didn't I?" Stiles put a hand on Derek's shoulder.

This earned another growl from the wolf.

"Would you stop being possessive, this is literally you," Stiles snapped at the wolf as he gestured towards Derek.

Just then his phone beeped with a message.

"Deaton thinks he has something. Can you two ride in peace together?" Stiles snapped, glaring at Derek and his wolf.

When neither responded he opened the door and the wolf jumped in first. Derek begrudgingly followed suit.

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose. This was beyond frustrating.

-

The car ride was quiet and tense. Derek's wolf rode with his head on Stiles' lap. It made Derek uncomfortable. He hated how needy of Stiles his wolf was being. If he wasn't careful it would give away the fact that Stiles was Derek's anchor. He hoped it was only because Stiles was a pack mate and his wolf was scared.

When Stiles walked into Deaton's office with Derek and a black wolf in toe, the room paused.

"You found Derek, er his wolf," Scott gestured behind Stiles.

"Yeah, he was under my jeep when we left," Stiles gave the wolf a small scratch on the head.

"He likes to be pet," Lydia rose a brow curiously.

"By Stiles only," Derek grumbled.

"That's curious," Deaton said turning to a book of his.

Scott knelt down towards the wolf.

Derek's wolf backed away slightly, hiding behind Stiles' leg.

"Okay why isn't he growling at Scott," Derek threw his hands up.

"I probably smell like the pack," Scott shrugged.

"I'm literally a part of him and he nearly took my hand off," Derek was still bothered by his wolf's reaction.

"Well you kind of smell like a fairy threw up on you, no offense," Isaac piped in then. He gave an innocent shrug.

"Well considering he murdered the fairy that explains the animosity," Lydia nodded with a huff.

"He what?" Derek snapped his head towards the redhead.

"I hadn't gotten around to telling him that part yet. I was hoping for some good news first," Stiles bit at his bottom lip.

Derek's shoulders slumped.

"Which we unfortunately don't have," Allison sighed looking longingly at the pile of books on Deaton's desk.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Derek snapped at his wolf, earning a growl.

"No, she could have undone this. Why the hell did you think killing her was a good idea?" Derek continued taking a hostile step towards the wolf.

"Derek," Stiles put a hand up to stop Derek from taking another step.

The wolf snapped his jaws with a vicious snarl.

"Wow he really doesn't like you, does he?" Liam noted with a dumb smile on his face.

Derek shot his a glare, knocking the smirk off his mouth quickly.

"The riddle," Deaton started, not looking away from his book. "I believe you have to give your wolf what it wants in order to put yourself back together."

"How the hell am I supposed to know what it wants?" Derek snapped, he tossed a glare at the wolf who still held his defensive state.

"I believe it's something you've been depriving him of. Can you think what that might be?"

The room looked at Derek expectantly.

Derek gave an annoyed eyeroll before it hit him. The tension in his shoulder rose and his jaw clenched.

"I can't do that," Derek's tone was low and threatening.

"Do what?" Stiles frowned.

Derek's eyes met the human's. The whiskey brown was dulled with exhaustion from lack of sleep. Lack of sleep that Derek's problem had caused.

"It's not up to me. I can't just..." Derek trailed off, turning away from the group. Tears pricked at his eyes. He hated everything about this.

"Derek," Stiles put a hand on Derek's shoulder.

"I can't fix this, and neither can you," with that, Derek stalked out of the room.

Stiles gaped after the ex-werewolf.

"I don't understand," Liam frowned.

"Do you think it's his family?" Allison asked quietly, looking to Deaton.

"No, that's not possible. I think it's something else," Deaton glanced at a worried looking Stiles. Allison's eyes followed what Deaton was looking at.

"You think..." She trailed off.

Deaton only nodded.

"I'm gonna go after him," Stiles said then going for the door. Derek's wolf was on his heels.

"Der, just...wait here," Stiles shook his head at the wolf. But he continued towards the door with Stiles.

"Stay," Stiles huffed, but again the wolf ignored him.

Stiles held a hand up and snapped harshly, "No." this seemed to get the wolf's attention.

When Stiles walked out the wolf laid down with a whine.

"He'll be back," Isaac offered gently kneeling next to the wolf.

"His wolf wants Stiles," Lydia nodded in understanding.

"We always thought Stiles was Derek's anchor but what if it's more than that?" Allison hummed.

"You think Derek likes Stiles?" Scott snorted a laugh. He couldn't imagine the two of them together.

"No," Lydia shook her head, "I think Derek loves Stiles."

-

Stiles caught up with Derek just outside Deaton's office.

"Hey, Derek, please, wait," Stiles grabbed Derek's arm stopping him as he walked towards the road. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Derek snapped, refusing to meet Stiles' eyes.

"Let me take you," Stiles offered.

"What about...Me?" Derek huffed gesturing towards the building where he wolf was still inside.

"I'll get the pack to look after him for a bit. Right now you need me," Stiles gave Derek's arm a gentle squeeze.

"Stiles," Derek sighed, but before he could object, the human was dragging him towards his jeep.

Derek didn't argue. He knew it was no use and if he was being honest, not having his werewolf abilities made him uncomfortable and not want to be alone.

Stiles stayed silent the entire way to Derek's house. He'd text Scott, asking him to look after Derek's wolf until he got Derek settled.

The ex-alpha was thankful for the silence. It gave him time to think. How could he possibly fix this? It didn't sound like his wolf could be reasoned with and he couldn't give his wolf what he wanted. He didn't even know how. It's not like he could gift wrap Stiles and present him to the wolf.

It wasn't until Stiles and Derek were inside Derek's loft that Stiles finally spoke up.

"Derek, you know I want to help you, and I'll do everything I can but...I don't know how if you don't tell me what he wants," Stiles spoke cautiously, like he would scare Derek off with his words.

"It doesn't matter cause he's not getting it," Derek snapped.

Stiles knew Derek wasn't mad at him, he was just lashing out.

"Why not?"

"I can't just...it's not possible," Derek shook his head. He knew his wolf wanted Stiles, he always had but that wasn't up to Derek and if Stiles knew that he was what was keeping Derek separated from himself, he wouldn't hesitate to do whatever necessary to fix it. That was one of the many things Derek loved about Stiles.

"Are you sure?" Stiles pressed gently.

Derek looked at Stiles with sad eyes. What was he supposed to do? He either chose his wolf or Stiles. He couldn't do that. If he told Stiles that his wolf wanted him, it could ruin their relationship. And while it wasn't the ideal relationship, it was enough, and Derek didn't want to lose that.

"Derek, please," Stiles took a step towards the now human.

If he didn't tell Stiles that his wolf wanted him then he'd be stuck as a human forever. He didn't know if he could do that. How was he supposed to choose between being a werewolf or having Stiles in his life? He wished that was a no brainer question, but he didn't know how to be human. He'd been a werewolf all his life. But giving up Stiles, the one thing he loved most...he didn't know how to do that either.

Suddenly Derek's resolved disappeared and the tears started. He slumped to the couch and buried his head in his hands.

"Derek," Stiles dropped down next to the ex-alpha. "Please, talk to me."

Derek looked up with teary green eyes. "I don't know how to be human. I don't want to be human." His tone was broken and quiet.

Stiles grabbed Derek's hands in his. "Then let me help you, please," Stiles begged, his hands cupped around Derek's.

"I think I need to be alone for a while, please," Derek said standing then.

Stiles closed his eyes with a sigh. He knew that this was Derek putting up his walls.

"Derek-"

"Please," Derek cut in his tone sharp but pleading at the same time.

Derek only nodded. He knew pushing wouldn't help.

"If you need me..." Stiles sighed. He knew it was pointless, Derek wouldn't call.

Derek couldn't watch at Stiles left. He feared he might ask him to stay if he did.

Once the door closed behind the human, Derek dropped back onto the couch with a sob.

Stiles leaned back against the wall just outside Derek's door with a sigh.

Tears pricked his eyes when he heard the sobs. He hated not being able to do anything. He had to fix this and if Derek wouldn't let him help, maybe his wolf would.

-

Stiles stepped inside his apartment to see Isaac sitting on the couch with Derek's wolf next to him.

"Isaac, what are you doing here?" Stiles glanced around as if expecting to see the rest of the pack.

"I tried to take him to my place, but he wasn't having it, so I used your emergency key," Isaac gestured towards the wolf.

"Oh, uh, okay. That's good actually, I was hoping to try and I dunno, get something useful out of him," Stiles nodded dropping his keys on the table near the door.

"He's not just gonna talk, he's a dog," Isaac pointed out.

"Yes, I'm aware," Stiles quipped with a roll of his eyes, "I'm gonna see if I can figure out what he wants, since Derek won't tell me."

Isaac glanced down. The pack had agreed it was up to Derek to tell Stiles.

"I'll leave you to it," Isaac stood up then. If he couldn't talk to Stiles, maybe he could talk to Derek. He had smelled how miserable and stressed Derek had been. Being human wasn't easy for him.

Stiles took Isaac's spot on the couch once he left. Derek's wolf moved his head so it was against Stiles' leg.

"Why couldn't she put a spell on you that made you verbal? She had to go and make this even more difficult, didn't she?" Stiles sighed, petting the wolf as he spoke.

"You know I always wondered if Derek were human if he'd be happier, not having the weight of being an alpha or have to smell everyone's emotions. But I think it's harder for him not knowing. I like him not being able to smell my emotions. It's easier to hide the fact that I'm hopelessly in love with him," Stiles snorted. "I know pathetic right? Huh, I guess I technically just told Derek I was in love with him. I mean you are technically Derek. Just his animalistic side, which honestly, super hot." Stiles chuckled to himself as he continued to pet Derek's wolf.

"You know if this riddle is really saying that he has to give you something that you want but is depriving you of, doesn't that mean he wants it to? What could he be depriving himself of?" Stiles ran his hand through his hair. He didn't have the slightest clue what Derek could want.

"What do you want, huh? What could a wolf want?"

The wolf only let out a deflated huff as his eyes started to close. Stiles' petting was putting him to sleep.

"Safety? He has that. A pack? He's got that," Stiles' hand stopped scratching for a moment earning a small whine from the wolf.

"Affection. That's something Derek never gets," Stiles hummed thoughtfully as he continued to scratch Derek's ears. But was Derek really depriving his wolf affection?

The sound of a knock on his door interrupted his thoughts then.

Stiles got up, with the wolf on his heels.

"Derek," Stiles was surprised to see the ex-alpha.

"I uh...you said if I need you..." Derek looked nervous and beyond stressed.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Stiles scanned Derek for any injury he might not have noticed.

"Not...not really," Derek shook his head.

"Come on," Stiles pulled Derek inside earning a growl from his wolf.

"Hey, knock it off," Stiles snapped at the wolf. He instantly stopped growling but stayed glued to Stiles' leg.

"I've made a decision," Derek spoke in an unsure tone.

Stiles waited patiently for Derek to continue.

"I have a choice to make and it's not easy but...I..." Derek started to pace.

This worried Stiles. Derek was not a pacer. He was always oddly still even when he was under a lot of stress. In fact, the more stressed the more still Derek got. But this, this made Stiles anxious.

"I have to choose between being a werewolf and losing someone close to me and I..." Derek's voice caught in his throat. "I can't lose them," his eyes dropped to the floor unable to meet Stiles'.

"Derek, you can't give up your wolf like that," Stiles took a step towards Derek.

"I don't have a choice," Derek shook his head.

"You just said you did."

"No, I can't."

"Derek, this isn't who you are. You can't give up your wolf like-"

"I can't lose you," Derek snapped cutting Stiles' off.

Derek's jaw clenched as he realized what he'd just said.

"Derek, what are you talking about?" Stiles took another step towards Derek, but the ex-alpha took a step back.

"Derek, please," Stiles' tone was worried now.

"I've made my decision," Derek tried to sound sure of himself but the waiver in his tone gave him away.

"Derek, you're not gonna lose me, please, talk to me," Stiles took another tentative step towards Derek.

Derek took another step back, his back now hitting the door.

"Why would you ever think you have to choose between me and your wolf? I would never-"

"Because what he wants will ruin this," Derek blurted again. He couldn't handle this. He was losing it.

"What are you talking about, Derek, what does he want?" Stiles stepped in closer.

Derek swallowed hard. Stiles wasn't going to let it go. He had to tell him.

Stiles waited as Derek looked at him with worried eyes.

"You," He whispered.

Stiles frowned, "What about me?" He glanced down at the wolf that was sitting patiently behind him.

"He wants you," Derek's head dropped, his eyes closing in shame.

Stiles looked back over at the wolf his eyes going wide.

"You want to turn me?" Stiles asked, his tone horrified. He took a stumbled step back.

Derek's head shot up. The fear in Stiles eyes sent panic coursing through Derek. "What? No, I'm in love with you," He blurted.

The fear turned to shock.

Derek's eyes were wide with terror at what he'd just admitted. Now he'd done it.

"Affection," Stiles mumbled. As he recalled how Derek's wolf didn't want him to stop petting him. "From me."

"What?" Derek frowned. He wanted to reach for Stiles but was afraid to.

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," Stiles chuckled with a shake of his head. "She wanted me in her court so you would admit how you felt. When you threatened her, she knew your wolf would want to stay close and you'd pull away. She was doing me a favor."

"What are you talking about?" Derek frowned.

"She told me she wanted to give me my hearts greatest desire and that joining her court would give me that. I didn't understand then, but she was trying to give me you."

Derek's brows furrowed in confusion but before he could ask any more questions, Stiles' mouth was on his.

The feel of stiles' lips slotted against his sent a warm feeling up his spine.

When they pulled apart, it was like Derek's sensed were in hyperdrive. He smelled everything at once and his ears were suddenly on level ten.

Stiles was grinned widely.

"Wait, my wolf," Derek noticed the lack of canine in the room.

"She wasn't just a regular fairy. She was a pixie. They give someone something that their heart desires most without them realizing and then they owe her and it's usually not something good. She was trying to manipulate us," Stiles recalled his late night research on the different types of Fae.

"When you wouldn't agree to join her court. She spelled me so that I would owe her the favor," Derek nodded in understanding.

"Wait, you said that if you gave your wolf what it wanted that you'd lose me. Why would you think that?" Stiles asked with a frown. Had he done or said something that made Derek think that?

"I was sure you would want nothing to do with me if you knew," Derek dropped his eyes to his feet.

"Derek," Stiles lifted the werewolf's chin. "You were really gonna choose me over your wolf?"

"It wasn't an easy decision, but I knew if I lost you, I'd be lost. At least without my wolf I'd have you to help me."

"You'll always have me, Der," Stiles leaned forward again.

This time Derek pulled Stiles in, keeping him close. His wolf preened at the feeling of finally having what he wanted and Derek was happy to give it to him.

Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!

[sterek-bingo]

                        Theme Spotlight: Pack Parents

Pack Mom, Pack Dad, whatever you call them, it’s clear that Stiles and Derek are the “parents” of the pack, even without either being the Alpha (though if you want to Alpha-nize either of them that’s definitely fine by us) Stiles and Derek have, since the beginning, treated their packmates like children, and with good reason, now is your time to capitalize on that! Be they literal parents or just using that as a figure of speech- maybe even a sarcastic one- it’s time to have a sit down with the pack parents and feel young again

[hakeberhooligan]

TITLE: In-Flight Entertainment

RATED: T

WORDS: 6,218

SUMMARY: “You okay there? First time flying?” The person - a guy - sitting next to him says. Stiles wishes he weren’t trying so hard not to hyperventilate, so he could properly appreciate the silky smooth tones. Instead, he keeps his eyes firmly shut, and shakes his head a little.

“Nope. Just my first time flying alone.” He lets out a harsh laugh. “You’d think that by legal drinking age, I wouldn’t need anyone to hold my hand for takeoff. Yet here we are.”

Or, in which a handsome stranger offers Stiles some comfort, and things snowball from there.

For the 2019 Sterek Bingo prompt: Strangers on a Train

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18763075

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[happyjuicyfruit]

The Mischievous Boy and The Time Traveling Fairies

“Daddy!” Mischief screamed, reaching out blindly. He was falling through air, his eyes squeezed shut and then -

Then he was landing in a pair of strong, warm, arms. “Daddy!” Mischief buried his face into his fathers chest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have climbed the tree!”

“Um…” A voice said above him. Not his dad’s voice. Mischief pulled back, and then his eyes widened in alarm. The man holding him was not his dad. It was some sort of strange, bearded, lumberjack! “Stiles?”

“Yeah?” Another voice called back. Mischief turned to see another man walking up, this one was wearing plaid. Was he a lumberjack, too? “Oh. Oh.” The man stepped right up into Mischief's space. “Oh shit.”

AO3