#fullmoonficlet

Written for @fullmoonficlet

“Hello?” Stiles grumbled into the hotel phone.

“My apologies, Mr. Hale. This is the front desk. We have a message for you,” the chipper voice of the midnight desk clerk greeted him.

“What is it?” Stiles asked, blinking up at the ceiling before glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It was just after midnight. He’d only been sleeping for a couple of hours; no wonder he felt like death. He’d gotten very little sleep the night before his flight, preferring to spend the time with the Pack before they would be separated for two weeks.

“It’s private,” the clerk said, sounding odd.

“Well, someone had to have taken the message, so it can’t be too private,” he grumbled, but he was already getting out of bed. He hoped it wasn’t some kind of publishing emergency, although what it could possibly be, he couldn’t even imagine. “Give me a minute.”

“Yes, sir!” she said, sounding almost relieved as she hung up.

Stiles grumbled and grabbed his hoodie off the back of the desk chair. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to energize himself a little more. He glanced at the bed, frowning. He hadn’t been sleeping well, but it had been the first night he’d spent alone in a long time. He smiled as he thought about Derek, the crazy werewolf mate who had shown up naked, frozen, and shot and stolen his heart.

His new book that he was touring to promote included a character very much based on Derek. Stiles had read over the selection he’d be reading at the signing that night to try and help him sleep, but it only made him miss Derek even more. He’d never realized just how difficult it would be to be away from Derek for even one night; if he didn’t get through this night, he didn’t know how he would manage to get through two whole weeks of nights.

Stepping into the hall, he closed the door behind him and headed toward the elevator. He stretched as the doors opened. Riding down in silence, he wondered if anyone else was awake in the hotel. When the door opened in the lobby, he saw the clerk standing behind the counter give out a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Stilinski,” she greeted, holding out an envelope. “Here is your message.”

Stiles shuffled across the lobby, wishing he’d remembered to put shoes on as his sock-clad feet slipped on the tile. He took the hotel stationery envelope, studying his name on the front, surprised by the familiar handwriting. “Can you tell me who took the message?” he asked, looking up to find the desk empty. “Strange,” he muttered, flipping the envelope over and slipping a finger under the flap, tearing open the envelope.

Reaching inside, he pulled out a brochure for helicopter tours he’d noticed in the display near the front doors. Frowning, Stiles flipped it over and saw something scribbled in black marker, the handwriting as familiar as he’d thought when he’d seen it on the front.

I miss you. 

“Derek?” Stiles said, keeping his voice low. He smiled when he saw Derek peek around the corner of the desk, looking rumpled and adorable to Stiles, but had probably looked threatening to the clerk. “Why are you scaring the employees?”

Derek looked down at his feet. “Didn’t mean to scare her,” he said. “I just asked which room you were in, and she wouldn’t tell me.”

“And you didn’t just call my phone to tell me you were flying across the country because…?”

Derek reached into his jacket pocket to reveal Stiles’ phone. “Because you left it at home. I didn’t realize until I messaged you that I missed you.”

“How did I not notice that?” Stiles asked, reaching for his phone and noticing the numerous missed messages from Derek. 

“No sleep, and then Red Eye to New York,” Derek said with a shrug. “As soon as I saw it, I got a flight out.”

“So you didn’t really miss me. You’re just being wonderful and looking after me,” Stiles said, smiling around a yawn.

“No. I missed you,” Derek said.

Stiles opened the messages and saw the first one from Derek said, “I can’t sleep without you. I’m coming to New York.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I can’t sleep without you either,” Stiles responded, reaching for Derek’s hand and pulling him towards the elevator. “Although, you know that Erica will have a lot to say about your stalking tendencies.”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” another familiar voice spoke up, and Stiles turned to see Erica, Boyd, and Isaac standing next to the desk with luggage. 

“What the hell?” Stiles asked, laughing.

“We missed you, too,” Isaac said, grinning as Erica tackled Stiles in a hug. Stiles knew that a good old pack puppy pile would be just what he needed to sleep.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Deucalion & Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Alan Deaton & Scott McCall, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Dr. Geyer & Scott McCall, Scott McCall & Noshiko Yukimura (Teen Wolf), Scott McCall & Ken Yukimura (Teen Wolf), Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura Characters: Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Deucalion (Teen Wolf), Alan Deaton, Stiles Stilinski, Nogitsune (Teen Wolf), Dr. Geyer (Teen Wolf), Noshiko Yukimura, Ken Yukimura, Kira Yukimura, Allison Argent (mentioned) - Character, Chris Argent (mentioned), Lydia Martin (mentioned) Additional Tags: Episode: s03e11 Alpha Pact (Teen Wolf TV), Episode: s03e19 Letharia Vulpina (Teen Wolf TV), Episode: s04e08 Time of Death (Teen Wolf TV), Post-Canon, Movie Events Referenced, Dreams, Nogitsune Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Demons Summary:

The word demon has a different definition, depending on who you ask. Four times Scott wrestles with the word.

For @sterekdrabblesgonelong​ - Sterek Drabbles: February 23: approve, secret, pale Theme Week: Change, and Full Moon prompt 474: Treat

554 words

Read on AO3

The last thing that Stiles remembered was that he was attacked out of nowhere when he was in the wood and then hell break loose, not remembering why he has a body next to him.

Stiles wants to shout for help, but he couldn’t say a word, still in shock.

That’s how Derek found him and tried to anchor him, so Stiles could focus and maybe tell him what’s wrong.

A few minutes later, Peter and McCall’s pack appeared.

“What’s going on in here?” Scott asked as he flashed his bright red eyes toward them.

“What does it look like?” Peter asked as he turned to look over Stiles noticed something strange about him, even his scent changed, but he couldn’t put out what was that.

“Did you kill another one, Stiles?” Scott was accused when no one replied to him.

“What do you mean exactly by your words, McCall?” Peter asked not letting him come near his nephew and Stiles.

“Didn’t he tell you that he killed Donovan in cold blood?” Scott asked in a mocking tone, and then he added, still mocking, “It’s not like it’s a secret or something, the pack knows and I’m sure that his dad knows that his son is a cold blood killer too.”

“Now wait a minute, McCall,” Derek moved closer, flashing his blue eyes over as he glared at him, “He didn’t kill him in cold blood, Stiles told you that, but you believed that snake Theo, didn’t you?”

“Is that true, Scott?” Peter asked, flashing his red eyes at him.

“Yes, but he did kill Donovan in cold blood, and I believe Theo, he is like the rest of us, Theo is family,” Scott replied with a smile.

“Oh, really? Your family, huh?” Peter asked, mocking him.

“How’s Stiles?” Peter asked his nephew.

“Not good, I don’t know what’s attacked him, his scent changed, he is no longer human,” Derek replied with worried, looking at his paler mate, who looked like he is in trance.

“Isn’t Stiles in your pack?” Peter asked.

“Why would I keep a murderer in my pack? I say good riddance,” Scott replied.

“The way that you treated my mate? He is better off without your pack, McCall.” Derek told him, he was angry at the alpha, was still trying to assure his mate that everything is alright, but it fell on deaf ears.

“So, why did you come with your pack over here?” Peter asked.

“I thought that Derek is in trouble, your nephew is still in my pack!” Scott exclaimed.

“Well, as his uncle and alpha, I will be glad to take them into my pack, but I also disapprove about your antics, and one day, you better remember my words, McCall, one day when you need friends the most, they will go, one after another, and all your allies will be burning, do you understand my words, McCall, or do you want me to growl to you so you could understand?” Peter asked as he flashed his eyes toward him.

“Next time, I won’t be that nice toward you, you better remember that McCall,” Peter told him when he got no answer.

“Are you threatening me, Hale?”

Written for @fullmoonficlet

Everyone knows Stiles can be salty as hell, especially when he’s reminded that despite being a spark, he is still very much human. Most of the Pack had learned not to point out his humanity, but sometimes they forgot. Honestly, Scott forgot. Derek shook his head as he crouched in the tree, watching the two best friends face off in the middle of the clearing.

“C’mon, dude, I said I was sorry!” Scott snapped; his voice was tight.

“For what?” Stiles asked. He pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows while waiting for Scott’s response.

“For…pissing you off,” Scott said, sounding uncertain. It seemed that Scott had finally realized the severity of the situation.

Stiles snorted and turned away from Scott. He took a couple of steps. Scott let out a whine, stilling Stiles’ forward momentum. “What’s the matter, Scott? Do you need the feeble human’s help?”

Derek smirked, trying to hold back his laugh at the bite in Stiles’ tone. He knew that Scott wasn’t in any real danger, but he was enjoying the situation more than he probably should. He knew that if he didn’t keep it quiet, he’d be dealing with an extra-whiny Scott when everything was said and done.

“I mean, really? You don’t need me. Having me around will only be, what did you say, ‘a distraction’? So, I think I’m going to do like you requested and go back home and watch a movie or something.” Derek shook his head when Stiles glanced up to where he was sitting. Mere human or not, he could always find Derek with unerring accuracy.

Stiles walked away again, and Derek had to laugh at how Scott tried to grab for him, but the mountain ash ring surrounding him thwarted the gesture. Derek hadn’t witnessed how Stiles had trapped Scott, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with Stiles. Thankfully, the evil they were chasing through the preserve that night would not be able to cross the line any more than the wolves. 

Derek stayed in the tree, wondering how long Stiles would let Scott sulk. Leaning back against the trunk, Derek relaxed, keeping his hearing open for any trouble. There was still a monster on the loose, and Stiles was only human. Derek sat up when he heard a twig snap behind him. He turned carefully not to disturb the branches, nearly falling when he came face to face with a smirking Stiles.

“So, are you keeping an eye on Scott or me?” Stiles asked. 

Derek knew there was only one correct answer. “Scott. Was afraid his ego would get himself into trouble.” That wasn’t a complete lie; Scott had been feeling pretty invincible lately and was liable to make mistakes.

Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes. “Sure.” Stiles moved to settle next to Derek on the branch. 

“How long are you going to leave him there?”

“I have no immediate plans for his freedom,” Stiles responded flatly, and Derek winced, knowing he meant it.

“The monster is still out there,” Derek pointed out. Stiles shrugged and gestured in a circular motion to indicate the mountain ash. 

“He needs to stop underestimating me.”

“He doesn’t underestimate you. He worries about you,” Derek pointed out.

“You worry about me, but you never tell me to stay home,” Stiles argued.

“If I thought I could avoid an attack of Sir Stiles the Salty, I would tie you to your desk chair every time we go on a hunt.” Derek could feel Stiles’ anger growing, and he held out a hand. “I have faced things that would give Dementors nightmares, and nothing has come close to terrifying me as much as you when you’re pissed.”

Stiles snorted and shook his head. “You just know that you won’t get laid if you piss me off,” he said, shoving at Derek.

“That, too,” Derek agreed, laughing.

“I can hear you, too!” Scott shouted. “Please stop before I vomit!”

“Jealous much?” Stiles shouted down at Scott, but he waved his fingers, and the mountain ash surrounding Scott dispersed, flying towards Stiles and into the glass vial he pulled out of the pocket of his flannel shirt. Scott was off and running as soon as the line broke, muttering unkindly about Stiles.

Stiles raised his eyebrows and wiggled his fingers. The mountain ash started moving again, this time forming into the shape of a large bird that chased after Scott. “Stiles…” Derek started.

“It’ll just chase him home,” Stiles said with a shrug before dropping out of the tree. Derek moved more quickly and managed to catch him before he could hit the ground. “You did not just do that because you thought I couldn’t handle it, did you?” 

Derek snorted. “No, sir. I just wanted to get us home as fast as possible,” he responded, pressing a kiss to Stiles' head before breaking into a sprint. “No need to sick Sir Stiles on me.”

Stiles let out a peal of laughter before ducking his head into Derek’s neck and hanging on for the ride. “Sir Stiles the Salty,” he whispered, giggling against Derek’s skin.

Written for @fullmoonficlet

Derek sat at the desk set up in the library, a pen gripped in one hand and his phone in the other. He’d spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out why he’d woken with the feeling he’d forgotten something. The feeling intensified when Stiles greeted him with a kiss and an expectant smile. The smile faded as they shared breakfast before Stiles left for the station, barely pausing for a kiss goodbye.

Derek should be writing, but he couldn’t get his mind off Stiles’ face. He checked his calendar, but there wasn’t a birthday or any big anniversaries that Derek had discovered were important to Stiles. Their dating anniversary was in August. Their second wedding anniversary had just passed in December. He smiled as he remembered the wedding and distracted himself by starting to plan what he would get Stiles for their next one, eleven months away.

Stiles called at lunchtime, pulling Derek away from his search for the perfect leather jacket for Stiles for the anniversary. He’d been debating between one that looked like the one Derek had gotten from his dad or a brown bomber jacket with a sheepskin collar. “Do we have plans tonight?” 

Derek froze, detecting a trick question. He took a deep breath before making a non-committal sound. He could hear Stiles’ teeth click together, and Derek hung his head, waiting for his tirade. “Great. Well, then Scott and I are going hiking.” 

“Alright,” Derek responded after a minute. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Stiles snorted. “Not really. After all, why would I possibly want to spend time with you in the woods today?” He hung up before Derek could respond.

Stiles’ words echoed through Derek’s head as he went downstairs to make himself something to eat. There had been something strange in the inflection of Sitles’ voice. He’d been saying something with them, but Derek couldn’t put his finger on it.

As Derek added garlic aioli to the pretzel buns he’d picked up at the market, he thought about all the times he and Stiles had spent in the woods together. He laughed at the camping trip when a bear stumbled into their camp, and Stiles climbed a tree to escape. He’d screamed as the bear tried to go up after him. Derek shook his head as he reached into the fridge for some ham, freezing when his eyes fell on the dry-erase schedule Stiles had started, so they would know where each of them was at any given time.

January eleventh. The date seemed familiar as he stared at it, his eyes tracing the drawing of woods that Stiles had added. Frowning, he tried to identify the small red and white l-shaped item in the middle of the trees. His eyes went to January ninth, and he saw fangs digging into a stick figure. He let out a deep breath. It was January 11, 2021. Ten years ago, he’d stumbled across two stupid kids, one a newly turned wolf and the other his mate. It had been one decade since his entire life was turned on its head, and he’d forgotten.

“Fuck,” Derek muttered. He checked his watch and knew he didn’t have much time. He pulled his phone out to text Scott.

Several hours later, Derek watched Stiles stumbling through the woods. He shook his head, wondering how after all of these years, Stiles got lost in the preserve, which was basically his backyard at that point. Stiles reached the clearing and looked down at his phone, frowning and cursing Scott’s name. 

When Stiles turned to head back out of the clearing, Derek purposely stepped on the twig he’d noticed at his feet. He bit back a laugh when Stiles froze; he could smell the adrenaline racing through Stiles and felt bad. Before Stiles could slip into full-on panic, he opened his mouth and called out, “What are you doing here?” He remembered saying those words all those years ago and the shock that raced through him when Stiles had whirled around, their eyes meeting for the first time. It happened again, just like the first time. “Huh? This is private property!”

“You asshole!” Stiles shouted, laughing. “I thought you forgot.”

“I did,” Derek admitted, stepping forward. He held out the bouquet he held in one hand. “It wasn’t until your comment earlier that I remembered.” 

Stiles took the bouquet. “What the hell is this?”

“Ten years, one decade together. The traditional gift for that is tin or aluminum,” Derek explained. “I spent the afternoon drinking the beer in the garage fridge to make you flowers from the cans. That cheap shit is awful.”

“You know you could have poured out the beer or used some of the cans in the recycling bin?” Stiles teased, his eyes tracing the intricate buds. “How did you learn to do this?”

“YouTube,” Derek said, smiling when Stiles barked out a laugh. 

“Now I look like a jerk because I don’t have anything for you,” Stiles said.

Derek reached behind the tree and pulled out a case of beer. “Well, I can show you how to make the flowers,” Derek said. He pulled out a picnic basket as well. “While we have dinner.”

Stiles smiled. “I’d like that.”

Derek pulled a blanket out of the basket and laid it on the ground, holding down the corners with battery-operated lanterns. Once they settled onto the blankets, Derek opened two beers, handing one to Stiles. 

Stiles held the can up. “To us.”

Derek tapped the cans together. “To the happiest decade of my life.”

“To many more just like it,” Stiles added.

“To decades of decades,” Derek countered, leaning forward to kiss Stiles with a smile.

Written for @fullmoonficlet

Stepping off the train, Derek took a deep breath. The crowds poured around him while he attempted to get his bearings. A sign over a doorway showed the street Derek needed. He forced his feet to move, heading out of the darkness and into the bright sunlight of his new life. 

Stiles hurried down the street. He couldn’t believe he’d overslept. His anxiety over his new job had kept him up too late, and he’d forgotten to charge his phone. Thankfully, his next-door neighbor had a loud-as-hell alarm that sent Stiles off his bed daily. He had ten minutes to get to his new job three blocks away before he was officially late.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me,” he shouted as he pushed through the crowds pouring out of the train station. He sometimes missed the slower pace of Beacon Hills, but moving to New York for college had been the right choice. He needed to put as much space between himself and the horrors of his high school years.

Now he’d moved to the city and had a job with a private sector cyber security company. He couldn’t wait to get started, but he needed to avoid getting fired before that could happen. He glanced at his new watch, a college graduation gift from his father, and ran smack into something solid and fell backward, landing on his ass.

“Shit,” a voice said before someone grabbed him by the arms and yanked him to his feet. “Are you alright?”

Stiles shook his head and then nodded before looking up and freezing. “Derek?”

Derek’s eyes widened. “Stiles? What are you doing in New York?”

Stiles ran a hand over his face, catching sight of his watch. “Risking getting fired before I even get started,” he shouted. “I’ve gotta run.”

“Stiles!” Derek called after him, a part of him not wanting to let go of this small part of his past, even if he was starting over.

“What?” Stiles called, not looking behind him. Derek wondered where he was headed.

“My number hasn’t changed!” he shouted, smirking when Stiles stumbled before writing himself and waving a hand over his head. Derek doubted Stiles would call, but at least now he knew someone might. His phone had been silent in the years since he’d left Beacon Hills behind after the fire that had killed his family.

He’d spent a few years in the middle of nowhere in Colorado before continuing East. Only recently did he know he needed to find something to do with his days, or the madness that had begun setting in would take complete control. He’d spent months searching for a job that wouldn’t drive him completely crazy and found one in New York.

Now, he stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring at the space Stiles had occupied only moments earlier and wondered if fate had somehow led him there. Shaking his head, he checked the GPS on his phone and started heading toward his new job.

Stiles stood in the elevator, bouncing on his toes. He should’ve taken the stairs, but he’d been winded from the shock of seeing Derek and his race to work. The doors slid open to reveal Trend Point’s home offices. A young woman with red hair stood at the front desk with a welcoming smile. She reminded Stiles of Lydia, his high school crush that a wild animal had killed, and he felt a twinge in his chest.

“You must be Stiles,” she said, holding out a hand for Stiles to shake. “We have one more new employee starting today, so if you’ll have a seat until he gets here.”

Stiles nodded and moved to sit on the seat closest to the desk. He pulled his phone out and stared down at it. Derek had said he hadn’t changed his number, but Stiles wondered if he’d meant it. It had been many years since Derek had left Beacon Hills, and no one had heard from him since. He should’ve listened to his father and called Derek when Scott had died on the lacrosse field, an asthma attack taking him out before the paramedics could get there.

Stiles shook his head, blinking back tears. He’d lost so many people growing up. His mom. The Hales. Derek. Scott. Lydia. He’d nearly lost his dad, but thankfully Melissa, Scott’s mom, had stepped in to pull him back from the edge. Hell, the woman pulled Stiles off a literal ledge at one point. She’d been the one who’d encouraged him to leave Beacon Hills, and he’d only done it knowing his father would be in good hands.

Now Derek was in New York. His memories went over the years, and Derek and his family played in so many of them that he felt tears spring to his eyes. He rubbed at them and hoped that the receptionist didn’t notice. Great first impression, crying in the lobby. He pulled up Derek’s contact info, thumb wavering over the screen. He took a deep breath. Just because he was starting a new life didn’t mean he needed to discard everything from the old one.

“Mine didn’t change either,” he typed. He pushed send just as the elevator doors opened.

Two things happened at once. A phone went off, and the receptionist called out. “Derek? Excellent. Now that you’re here, we can start this orientation.”

Stiles looked up, mouth hanging open as he studied Derek, who looked as stunned as he did. A smile spread across Derek’s face, and Stiles couldn’t miss the dampness in his eyes. “Hey, Stiles,” he said.

Stiles stood up and moved to stand next to him. “Derek.”

“You two know each other? Excellent! My name is Lisa Idaho, and I’m the front office coordinator,” she said. “Now, let's get moving.” 

She moved down the hallway, and Stiles started after her, stopping when Derek touched his arm. “You okay?” Stiles asked.

“Just making sure you’re really here,” he said. He would never tell Stiles that he’d imagined his childhood best friend and first crush too many times over the years.

“Dude, I’m here. You’re here. I think New York is going to be the new life I needed,” he said.

“New life for us both,” Derek said. They looked up when Lisa called their names, smiling fondly and shaking her head. “We should go before we both have to get new new jobs,” Stiles teased, grabbing Derek’s sleeve and pulling him along. Derek knew if they weren’t at work, he’d be taking his hand, and he hoped Stiles would want to get dinner that night.