Hey hi! So what about a Monsters Inc AU for the Disney prompt challenge? I think that would be so cute! Thank you!
well how about it??? how about derek as sully and stiles as boo? YOU’VE GOT IT!
thanks to @oncetherewasapirate for reading through this!
The door was supposed to be a hiding spot– anempty storeroom that Laura had assured he wouldn’t be followed through, or someabandoned cabin in the middle of the woods. He’s bleeding from the chest andthe mouth, stumbles blearily through and straight into the abyss before he’sstepping through the other side.
He hates the sinking feeling of transportationbut then there’s a light flicking on and shit– shit, there’s a young boystaring blearily at him from beneath the sheets rather than a storeroom. Andthe sheets have monsters on them, so he’s not going to be scared of Derekwhatsoever.
The kid is probably four years old, little handsgripping the blanket and he moves them to the side. Too young to be scaredshitless (it’s always six and up), but he doesn’t even look wary whatsoever.Brown eyes are intensely watching Derek’s every move (mostly swaying fromexhaustion). He tries to hide the spine sticking out of his chest because hisjob is to scare kids, not scar them for life, and what is Derek doing hereanyways?
The little boy doesn’t speak, but he does waveonce from across the room.
And Derek waves back, leaning his head backagainst the cool wall. With that, he dives back into the opened door and slamsit shut.
It’s the Argent kid again, and she is ready withsmall deathstars to throw at Derek when he emerges through the doorway. One issticking from his arm when he dives into the door nearest to hers, growling “Iswear I need a new job” before he’s engulfed in darkness.
He feels wrong as soon as he steps into the roomand he growls into the darkness, already baring his teeth. When the room isbathed in light and Derek blinks into focus, he stops short.
Because it’s the same boy from the past week,and he’s older now, but Derek can tell the bed is slightly larger and thesheets are different. Now it’s a picture of all the constellations.
He stops focusing on the blankets when the boysits up in his pajamas, and Derek hustles back towards the door, ready to openit and escape back.
“It’s okay,” the little boy hastens to say, andDerek can’t help but crane his head in shock because what. The boyshuffles up and sits up farther, leaning up on his hands.
“I’m Stiles; you don’t have to be scared of me.”Reaching a hand out, he comes out from under the star-covered blankets andslides out of his bed, little feet thudding on the wood. He still can’t be morethan six, bravely shuffling closer to Derek, eyes bright and–
He’s not even scared, and is acting like Derekis the frightened child instead.
Derek tries to retract his teeth since thisisn’t his job and he doesn’t want to be frightening all the time, but finds hehas very little energy to do so. Stiles’s eyes go wide at the snarl Derekproduces in frustration, but doesn’t stop moving closer despite that. “What’syour name?” he asks, blinking up at Derek’s hovering form, eyeing the handDerek still has clenched on the knob.
Derek is still bleeding because he hasn’t pulledthe ninja stars out. “Derek.”
“Hi Derek, I’m Stiles.” Stiles puts his hand outfor Derek to presumably shake. Derek does, and his hand engulfs his butStiles’s grip is strong for his age. “My dad says I shouldn’t talk tostrangers, but I’ve seen you before, so I assume it’s okay now.”
“I’m going to go, Stiles,” Derek tells him,because he’s not supposed to be trusting Derek.
Stiles’s face falls, and Derek is thankful it’sdark enough that the little boy can’t see the blood on his back when hedeparts.
The next time, when Stiles is a little older,possibly in middle school. Derek crashes through the doorway, and Stiles ishunched over a book in the dark, under his blanket, a flashlight pointed at thepage, pretending that he’s asleep.
Derek’s arrival is enough for Stiles to jolt andDerek watches him clumsily collapse under the blanket, and all at once thelight is out. Derek sucks in a sharp breath through his pained abdomen andStiles seems to realize it’s not his father checking on him because his headpeeps back out.
“Derek!” And Derek almost regrets coming back,but Stiles is off the radar anyways. And Stiles is hopping out of bed andflipping the lightswitch. Derek had almost forgotten about his bleeding woundsuntil Stiles’s eyes scan them over and they go wide. “Dude, you’re bleeding!”
“You’ve gotta let me look at those,” Stilesrequests, tugging Derek towards his bed and pushing at his sides. Derek goeseasily. First, Stiles runs into the hallway and leaves the door open, butthen is back in a flash, shutting it behind himself. He tears open a packet ofsomething, and when he was gone, Derek had tugged the tiny arrowheads out ofhis arms and shoved them into the pocket of his leather jacket. Stiles beginsdabbing at Derek’s wounds and it stings, so Derek hisses.
Stiles tosses the wipes into the garbage andDerek takes the packaging and does the same, still holding toilet paper to thelargest gash. Stiles begins searching through the first-aid kit with tinymumbling sounds that even Derek’s advanced hearing can’t recognize.
“So what do you do? Why do you keep poppingthrough my room?” Stiles asks, sitting cross-legged, and Derek stands onslightly unsteady feet. He wads the toilet paper up and tosses it in the trashcan.
“I’m a monster,” Derek tells him, because whatelse can he say?
Stiles snorts, surprising Derek again. “Yeah,you don’t look very monstery. For a werewolf, at least.” Derek’s entire bodystiffens up with a panic response. “You’ve gotta show me again, by the way,” hesays nonchalantly. “I read about werewolves all the time.”
Derek stares at him, dumbfounded. But he figureshe doesn’t have much to lose if Stiles’s room is off the records, and lets histeeth drag out of his gums. Stiles stops short, hands still buried in the box.
“Is that all?” he questions, and Derek can’thelp but huff out a laugh. “No! I mean, do you have more things that happen?”
“Yes,” Derek says, and it’s funny trying tospeak past the teeth. “This isn’t all I can do.”
“Cool,” Stiles nods. “You’ll have to show mesome time.”
“Maybe,” Derek relents, turning his face back tonormal. There’s some quiet shuffling where Stiles goes back into his bathroomand Derek just sits and stares at the wall for a bit, but then he returns.
“Funny enough,” Stiles huffs as he climbs hisway up the bed that seems way too big for him. Constellations cover the sheetsand blanket still. He brandishes a few large bandages and Derek resists theurge to snort. “I only have small ones. You got into a huge fight this time,didn’t you Derek? Scott gets hurt a lot, so we keep these here.” Derek seesscratches littered across Stiles’s arms, probably from tree branches, andfigures that statement might be a fib.
Derek nods as he placatingly lets Stiles rubalcohol onto the large gash in his arm one more time, then hisses with thesting. The night is quiet, drifting past, the moon filtering into Stiles’sroom. Then, Stiles insists on putting a bandage on (Derek knows he has toremove it as soon as he leaves, but lets him do it anyways).
“Thank you,” Derek says when Stiles is jumpingback into his bed, and Stiles smiles and waves as he leaves this time.
It’s the wrong door he thinks as soon as he’s enveloped in darkness, a familiar scenthitting him like a smack to the face. His hand is on the knob already, sweatcool against the metal, but from the other side of the room, a upturned nose isturning his way, dimly lit by a laptop screen and brown eyes are widening.
Derek feels like he’s suffocating because hecan’t be here again; this door shouldn’t still be here. He had been avoidingthis place on purpose because one of the government employees named JenniferBlake had caught wind of Derek’s visits and he’s been keeping it quiet so theydon’t have to look into the company. But now, working double hours and notsleeping as much as he could, Derek feels exhausted. He’s told Laura about thedoor and that it should be destroyed because there’s no use for it.
But here he is. And can’t talk to Stiles nowthat so much time has passed.
“Shit–” there’s a crashing sound first, andDerek’s traitorous mind forces him to turn and check if Stiles is okay, but allthe boy is doing is stumbling so fast towards him, fingers digging into hisbicep. “Holy shit,” he repeats, mouth open slightly, so much older, andDerek is finally looking.
How many years has it been? It’s been months forDerek, but time passes so quickly in Stiles’s world.
There is still the habit Stiles has of rubbinghis eyes sleepily, even though he had been awake at his computer seconds beforeand not sleeping like he should be. He’s in a ratty t-shirt and pajama pantscovered in pizza slices and the way he stands is lazy and relaxed but his facebetrays his confusion. He’s much taller, just as tall as Derek. Instead of abuzz cut, his hair is longer and his face is thinner and he looks good.
Derek feels his throat close up because how hashe become so attractive in this time?
Then, all at once, the expression changes. Hismouth splits into a large grin, arms “I knew they weren’t just dreams,” he saysnear a whisper before throwing himself forward. Derek goes still but keeps themboth from falling down.
All Stiles does is clap him once on the shoulderbefore he pulls away, mouth curling up at the edges. “Where the hell have youbeen?”
And there it is; Derek is completely off-kilteragain by just those words. Stiles always has been like this, jump-the-gun andhe could, should be panicking. Stiles places a hand on his own neck,brushing over his pulse point as he waits for a response, and Derek listens.
“Come stay a bit,” Stiles offers, and Dereklooks at the open room with no toys littering the shelves but books upon booksthere in their place.
“I shouldn’t,” Derek says, and the smile fades abit, but then it comes back full force.
“Sure you can, if you want. I’ve got some foodcooking.” Stiles jerks his head, and Derek, with a resigned sigh, steps inside.Stiles leaves and returns with some pizza and cups of soda for both of them.
“Thank you,” Derek says quietly, taking the cup.
“No problem,” Stiles sits down on the bed andDerek takes a seat at the edge. “So, I’m still not quite understanding why youkeep showing up here.” Derek opens his mouth but then Stiles hastens to say,“Not that I mind. You’re great company for the few minutes you stay.”
And he’s smirking knowingly, so Derek gives aone-shouldered shrug. “It’s a company. Where we scare children.”
“You’re the monsters in the closet?” Stilesinterrupts, going silent when Derek glares at him.
“That’s…” Stiles begins. “That’s really weird.That there’s a company that would do that.”
“It’s necessary to children growing up toacknowledge fear,” Derek recites, but it tastes bitter in his mouth.
Stiles takes a sip from his drink and nods, eyesboring over Derek’s skin.
Derek comes back sometimes. Every day after hisshift, he takes a trip for some length of time. Ten, maybe twenty minutes.Stiles talks to him about his friend Scott sometimes, and all the homework hehasn’t done.
And Stiles lets him play video games with himonce and crushes him because Derek hasn’t played since he was a kid.
As he gloats, Derek groans in defeat, but triesto hide a smile behind his hand.
“Is it always nighttime in your world then?”Stiles asks after a while of silence. They have the TV paused, and Derek issitting on his floor, back to the foot of the bed, one leg bent up in case heneeds to make a quick getaway.
Derek breathes in and looks outside at the darksky. Then he looks back at Stiles. His eyes twinkle like the stars. “Yes.”
“That’s so sad,” Stiles says. He smirks a littlebit. “Not that I go in the sun much anyways. But it’s nice to know it’s there,you know?”
Derek just nods and clenches his fist againsthis thigh, trying not to think about how Stiles makes the night just brightenough on his own.
Derek stumbles into the fake darkness of thebuilding with all the doors. He sees Erica and Boyd on their rounds and theywave as he stalks past. Derek hasn’t seen the real sun in years, he thinks ashe looks out of the window bathed in artificial darkness.
Laura waves him in and he takes a seathurriedly.
“Laura, I have to quit. I have to get out ofhere.” He sits with his palms flat on the surface of her desk.
Laura, one eyebrow twitching up, leans forward.“Where do you presume to go?”
“You know.” Derek swallows when Laura smiles,shaking her head in what he thinks is sadness. “You did this.”
“Yeah,” she lifts her shoulders. “I think youwere drowning in here. It’s good for you to see the sun.” And he did see thesun. He saw Stiles.
Derek thinks he can remember the beach when theywere kids, before they were taken to this place and told it was the only placethey could live. He hasn’t seen the sun since then. Their mom died trying toprove differently, that they could be free. But now Laura is in charge and theycould both be– “Leave with me,” he tries.
Laura blinks at him, eyebrows going up, but itfades into a sad smile. “You know I can’t.”
“You can. Sell this place, or leave it.”He takes her by the hand and hers shakes in his. “We can leave.”
It’s a few days later when she returns toDerek’s room, empty save for a few books and a mattress. She whispers “okay,”and Derek feels the tension in his back dissipate.
Laura is going to shred all of the doors. Derekstares at Stiles’s, the brown cedarwood, and takes hold of the doorknob, hisonly way out. “I’ll see you on the other side,” Laura says, and Derek isstepping through and into the light.
This time, the room is empty.
The bed is there, and the desk has been moved toface the wall. And Stiles isn’t there.
But it’s soon after Derek comes in that the doorcreaks open, and Stiles steps in, wearing ragged pajama pants and holding aplate of pizza rolls and a glass of juice. “Derek, jesus,” Stiles’s heart skipsa beat but it doesn’t speed up, and he overall looks pleased to see him.“You’re back already.”
“How long has it been?” Derek asks Stiles, firstthing.
Stiles sits on the bed and sets the plate downnext to him. His fingers run over the edge of his glass. “Since the last time?I’m still nineteen, so only a month.” But it isn’t only a month, they bothknow.
“I quit my job,” Derek says, blurts.
Stiles pauses halfway through a bite. “Wha’?” hemumbles, eyes wide. “‘You’re kidding. What does that even mean?”
“It means I’m– I’m here now.” Derek looksaround the room and thinks about how hard it will be to get everything set upagain.
“That’s great!” Stiles jumps off the bed andsets the glass on the table before tugging Derek into a hug. “Why on earth didyou do that?” He still has a hand on one of Derek’s shoulders, and Derek shrugsit off. Stiles is thrumming with energy.
“I figured.” Derek swallows. “Maybe it was timeto stop scaring people.”
Stiles laughs, a full noise that echoes throughthe room and terrifies Derek because his dad could hear. Then, his face sobersup, but it doesn’t eliminate the happy expression completely. “This wasn’t forme, was it?”
Derek steps back, letting himself fall into theshadows, because at least he can be ominous while spilling his heart out at anear stranger. “And if it was?”
Stiles just grins larger. “You idiot,” heexclaims, walking swiftly over to Derek, and kisses him once, “You’ve neverbeen scary to me,” he says, and Derek leans forward to meet him this time.
“Why weren’t you scared of me?” Derek asksStiles, because he has to know. Stiles is laying on his chest, arms crossed andhis face resting there. They’re fully clothed, just lying and enjoying thequiet drifting night. Now, Derek owns his own apartment on the other side oftown near the forest, and Laura doesn't live far. He doesn’t work scaring kids anymore (no one does in the company); he’s been working towardsbecoming a police officer.
The sheriff seemed to like him a lot more beforeStiles had introduced them as, well, whatever they are.
He purses his lips and then smiles when Derekruns a hand over his shoulder blades, the shirt he’s wearing rasping in thequiet.
“What, when you did that growling thing an hourago when I wouldn’t give up my pillow? It wasn’t very threatening. Orconvincing, now that I think about it.” He bunches the pillow back under hishead and turns to lay sideways facing Derek now.
“No,” Derek says, contemplative and Stiles’sexpression evens out. “When you were younger. You weren’t scared of me, but youshould have been.”
Stiles, shifting his body to a more comfortableposition, looks at Derek. Thinks for a long while. Eventually, his eyes meetDerek’s in the dark and he says, “You tried to snarl at me, and you.” Hepauses, as if recalling the memory. Derek can only really see parts of his face. “You were bleeding. I remember that. I don’t know if your boss thought itwould be a good idea to send you like that, but I knew you couldn’t or wouldn’tkill me in that state.” He huffs. “I thought something that last time, though.When I was in like seventh grade. I thought maybe I did something wrong.” It’squiet, the last part, but Derek hears it loud and clear.
“I wasn’t assigned to you,” Derek admits, andStiles lifts his head at the change of subject. “Your door was in the dump tobe shredded soon, because you weren’t scared of any of us.” He can see Stiles’sproud smile and rolls his eyes. “Brat.”
It grows quiet after Stiles’s quiet chuckle,feels tranquil. “So what, you were like dumpster diving and happened upon myroom?”
Derek sighs, trying not to rehash the memories,but Stiles has his genuinely curious expression and Derek knows he won’t winout, doesn’t even feel up to arguing. He’d rather lay here and not fight. “It’sa long story, but I was assigned to a kid who grew up in a family ofknife-fighters. I needed a place to take a break after she tried to kill me, soI tried a door.”
Stiles leans in to kiss Derek. “Lucky me, Iguess. Unlucky you though.”
Derek pinky traces over Stiles’s moles,remembering in the dark where they are. “No. I’m lucky too. I thought your doorwas gone for a little bit.”
It takes Derek a few moments of silence torealize it’s tense in the room now, then he tears his gaze away from Stiles’sdotted skin. Stiles’s mouth is twisted into a barely restrained frown. “And youwouldn’t have avoided me, if you knew.”
Derek can’t bring himself to look up for amoment, because he doesn’t think he can affirm that at all. The bed shifts asDerek tries to sit up and go somewhere else, sit in the corner against theheadboard, but of course Stiles follows after him, eyes boring needles into hisskin, burning, though his expression is easy. There’s even a smirk tugging atthe corner of his mouth. He sits on Derek’s legs and reaches with one hand,taking hold of Derek’s shirt. “Hey, man, cut it out. I was like twelve. There’sno hard feelings anymore.”
Derek shakes his head and sighs. “What would youhave been doing, if I didn’t come back?”
Stiles purses his mouth and shakes his head,shifting even closer, whiskey eyes blinking so quickly. “Nope.”
Derek’s face falls, he can feel it, buthe has a feeling that his mouth is shaped angrily rather than lookingcrestfallen. “Nope?” He repeats, voice even.
Stiles shakes his head again; he’s coming to asimple solution in his head that somehow Derek can’t see. “No, we’re not goingto have a discussion about what could have happened. Would it have beenbetter, if you were in a job you hated?”
“Maybe for you,” Derek can’t help but bring up.
“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard,”Stiles snaps, lacking any heat. “Not that your thoughts aren’t valid, butthey’re so self-deprecating, for Christ’s sake. There was a way we couldn’t endup here, but we did anyways. And I don’t know about you, but I enjoy this. I’mnot miserable right now.”
Derek swallows and looks down at Stiles’s hand,the fingers lightly entwined with his. He looks up and says, “I’m not either.”
It weighs heavier than he means, and it’sobvious Stiles has caught on. “Good. Now can we make out or something?”
Derek sighs like Stiles is tiring but his nerveendings have truly never felt so alive. Stiles smiles and laughs and theirteeth clack when their mouths first meet, but Stiles shifts forward and it’seasier to adjust then, easier to mouth at Stiles’s neck and drag him down tomeet him.
There are three things Derek has always beenhyper aware of, to infuriating extents. There are Stiles’s hands (brushing upand down his sides, a whisper over the sensitive skin of his neck), alwaysmoving. Then there’s his eyelashes (that flutter whenever he’s mad, wheneverhe’s too tired to blink fully, whenever he’s feeling too much) that close whenhe sighs contentedly. And then there’s his eyes (that can ask a millionquestions that Derek can only hope to answer), brown and gold and encompassedby laugh lines that crest, showing that he hasn’t really grown up so much.
There’s also his nose that wrinkles when helaughs as Derek falls off the bed later, and his stupid teeth reflecting in thelight like fangs.
Derek is okay where they’re at right now.
