Au where Derek writes fanfic. And he is kinda fandom big, because his fics are awesome! He’s versatile, he goes from heartbreaking angst, to tooth-rotting fluff, and his porn is so good people claim they masturbate to his fics
(something that always makes Derek blush, because okay, he’s shy)
Anyway, so Derek is a huge fanfic writer and one sweet day, guess who finds out? Stiles! Stiles borrows Derek’s phone (a smartphone at that! A modern one!) to make a Google search and the things that pops when he types the later 'a’ is ‘archiveofourown.org/users/howlingwolves’.
And Stiles blanches because he knows this author, okay? Of course he does! He has pretty much all his fics carefully bookmarked according to what finality they have: cause feels, make Stiles smile, spank bank. And so Stiles, being the sneaky little shit he is, he obviously open the page, because he wants to know what Derek read.
Imagine his shock when the AO3 profile is logged in. Logged in as howlingwolves.
Stiles drops the phone in surprise, because what? What? He actually does splutter and and yells at Derek “What the hell, you are howlingwolves?!”
Derek blanches, face carefully devoid of emotion, before he snatches his phone back and basically power-walks away from Stiles. And Stiles, being Stiles, basically runs after him, because “wait the hell up, Derek! You’re a slash fic writer! What the fuck?”
And Derek pulls Stiles aside, and nervously asks him to let go, because this is Derek’s only hobby, can Stiles please be nice just this once? And maybe it’s how nervous Derek actually looks, or how he’s borderline begging Stiles to leave him alone. But Stiles is suddenly full of unexpected feelings for Derek. Okay, so they aren’t unexpected per se. Or new. Or even unnoticed. But Stiles wasn’t really thinking he would be hit by them like that in that moment. Because Stiles? Stiles wants to hug Derek. He wants to hug and comfort Derek.
Instead, Stiles allows himself to touch Derek’s shoulder, give him what he thinks it’s a reassuring smiles. He can be nice. He’s so going to tell Derek he isn’t saying anything to anyone. That’s it’s fine.
Instead what comes out is “Dude, you’re my favorite fic writer. I always jerk off to ‘Death BeCums him’.”
Which, granted, wasn’t what Stiles had planned to say. At all.
Derek just stares and blushes, and oh my god. This is it. Stiles is so gone. He can’t hold his feelings inside his chest anymore, and before he can physically cut himself off by, say, braining himself against the wall, he is babbling.
“I’ve always imagine Nick as you. You know, he’s tall, dark, brooding. Stubble. He even likes leather jackets? Oh my God, that’s why you write him so well, isn’t it? You get him. Shit. And… And you know, I’ve always kinda seen myself as Alan? I am quirky, I am painfully human. I don’t know. So, uh, what I am trying to say is that I may have fantasized about us while reading my OTP and– omph!”
Stiles would finish his trail of thoughts. He would. But Derek is kissing him, and muttering about how he’s always imagined Alan as Stiles, and how he can’t help it, most of his sex scenes have Stiles face and body as Alan, and oh my God, have they both be fantasizing about each other, mutually, through fanfics?
Later, after they totally recreated a scene of one of Derek’s fanfics, down to the filthy dirty talk (Stiles’ courtesy), and rimming (Derek’s courtesy). They talk about feelings, and headcanons, and plots, and that’s how they co-author their first fanfic for Nick/Alan. It’s disgustingly romantic, with lots and lots of sex, and 100% based on real life. No one needs to know that except them both, though.
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