Feral States and Spellwork
Themes: Magic Stiles; Feral Derek
Rating: T
AO3
“We’ve got another one,” Scott says in greeting as he approaches Stiles’ desk. His mouth is turned down in a frown.
The update makes Stiles lean back in his chair with a heavy sigh. When he got to work that morning, he had been hoping that he was going to have an easy day. He should have known better. “Where are they?”
His best friend makes a vague gesture and replies, “Allison got him into one of the holding cells out back.” His shifts from foot to foot, a tell that he’s anxious. Stiles picks up on it immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
His fingers tap an unsteady rhythm on the surface of the desk. “It’s not good, Stiles. This one, he’s really gone. There’s hardly any awareness in his gaze. He nearly ripped Jackson’s arm off.”
Stiles gets to his feet, having heard enough. “Alright, let’s go have a look.” Already the tattoos on his arms are humming with energy, ready to help in whatever at they can.
But Scott reaches out and grabs his elbow. “Stiles, there’s something else. He’s an alpha.”
That makes his body lock up. Since they started working at Allison’s families’ rehabilitation center for the supernatural, they’ve had a variety of feral creatures come in in need of help. But they’ve never brought an alpha to the facility before. In fact, they haven’t even come into contact with an alpha since Scott and Jackson were changed in high school. That alpha was beyond help, and for the safety of the people around, Allison’s father had to put her down. Chris took them in afterwards, helped teach them control along with the local emissaries, and then put them to work at his agency, helping creatures from all over. Stiles, who had his own Spark of magick awaken at an early age, loves being able to help others. And he loves working at the center.
But even so, the prospect of seeing another feral alpha makes his skin crawl uncomfortably. Scott’s grip tightens. “You don’t have to go, Stiles. Someone else can do his initial screening, see if he’s beyond help.”
That resolves his effort. “No, I’ll do it.” Even though everyone that works at the rehabilitation center has been trained to work beyond their bias, alphas are rare and there are enough horror stories of them that it would be too easy for someone else to pass judgement without giving this alpha a chance. Stiles is always the first choice for dangerous creatures because he can keep calm under pressure and get accurate readings on their conditions. “Let’s go.”
Scott looks unsure, but he doesn’t question his friend’s decision. Instead he clamps his jaw tight and leads the way to the holding cells, the ones that they use for the feral creatures. Stiles can hear the growling before the doors are even pulled open.
Lydia and Allison are huddled close together, staring into the only occupied cell. Lydia looks up at the sound of their approach. Her eyes are dark. “It doesn’t look good,” she says in lieu of greeting.
Stiles lets the comment roll away and peers past the plexiglass door. The werewolf is huddled in one of the corners, fangs on full display, eyes gleaming red where they once were blue. “Oh shit.”
Scott catches his elbow again. “Dude, you really don’t have to do this, someone else can-.”
“Do you know who it is you’ve caught,” Stiles breathes, mind racing with what the werewolf’s feral presence could mean for the people at the agency.
That stops Scott short. “You know him or something?’
Lydia snorts, a harsh sound. “You really are a terrible werewolf, Scott. Do you not pay attention to anything important in the supernatural world? That’s Derek Hale.”
Scott might not have been able to recognize the half-shifted werewolf, but he knows the name. Everyone, supernatural or not, knows about the Hales. He echos Stiles’ sentiment, “Oh shit.”
Allison, who has remained silent during their conversation, sighs deeply. “Someone needs to contact Mrs. Hale, let her know that we have her son.”
Stiles winces. He’d much rather be stuck in a cell with the feral werewolf than be the one making that phone call to one of the most powerful figures in the United States. Before Stiles was born, young Talia Hale was at the forefront of the media, fighting for equality for supernatural creatures of all kinds. As the alpha of one of the biggest werewolf packs in the United States, Talia was a force to be reckoned with, and when supernatural right activists came out victorious, she graciously accepted the role as their representative in the United States government. Stiles definitely doesn’t want to make that call. Luckily, that’s not his job.
He rubs his hands together. “Okay, well, while one of you takes care of that, I have a werewolf to try and calm down.”
Lydia steps forward and places a gentle hand on his arm. She’s hardly ever soft with him, so it gives him pause. “Stiles, maybe you should wait until his mom gets here. He’s gone a lot farther than most of the feral wolves we bring in. It might be better for her to handle him.”
He frowns at her concern. “Lyds, I understand where you’re coming from, but look at him.” Everyone turns to do just that. “Who knows how much worse this can get by the time she gets out here. Who knows how much farther he can go before-.” He trails off, not wanting to add that if it got much farther than he might not be able to turn back.
Her eyes narrow at him, then turn back to examine Derek, who bristles at the attention. She sighs deeply. “Fine, but be careful. Maybe one us of should stay here. Or we should bring in one of the other mages to help you out.”
He’s shaking her head before she can finish making the suggestion. “No, the more people that are around, the more nervous that he’ll be. I’ll be fine, Lydia. I’ve done this enough to know that I need to be cautious.”
She raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t argue. Instead she starts ushering everyone away. “Come on, we all have a lot of work to do, and Stiles needs to get started.”
Only Scott hesitates, looking at his best friend with wide and concerned eyes. Stiles waves him on. “I’ve got this, buddy. Don’t worry.”
He waits until he’s alone to turn back to the feral werewolf. Derek is glaring at him and growling threateningly. Stiles rubs his hands together, calls on his magick, and opens the cell door. Immediately, Derek dashes at the open space. Stiles calmly takes a step back, and crosses his arms. The werewolf hits the mountain ash barrier and is pushed to the back of the cell looking dazed. The growling cuts off and is replaced by a low whine. Stiles steps into the cell. The barrier moves in as he walks, tightening in a circle around the werewolf.
“Hello, Derek.” He kneels in front him, ignoring the growling which has started back with a vengeance. In response, the werewolf snaps his jaws. Stiles ignores the threat. “My name is Stiles. I don’t know how you got this way, but I’m going to try my hardest to help you, okay?” A soft purple haze appears around his hands as he focuses his magick to start the assessment. Derek makes a harsh sound at the sight and sinks back against the wall, tucking his face into his shoulder. It makes Stiles frown. Normally, the sight and smell of spell-work makes feral creatures uncomfortable, but he’s never seen a reaction so full of fear. And they’ve never willingly turned away from someone they see as a threat. A feral alpha especially wouldn’t leave themselves so vulnerable.
“Woah, hey. It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” Without considering how stupid he’s being, Stiles reaches one hand out and rubs it through Derek’s hair. The werewolf tenses under his hand, and turns to stare at him. His jaw is hanging open, fangs on full display, but he doesn’t move to bite him. Instead he just watches him with a sharp expression. His pupils are still huge, leaving only a ring of red around them, and he doesn’t appear to have any more control than he did before, but the curiosity is better than outright hostility.
“I just want to do a quick diagnosis to try and figure out how you got this way and how I can help fix it. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” He reaches out with his other hand, crossing the barrier, and calls on his magick again. Derek whines and pulls back, even though he doesn’t have anywhere to go. Instead of moving away, Stiles focuses on getting his analysis. Lowering his guard, Stiles lets the magick take over. He’s swept into Derek’s consciousness, moves past his obvious fear and unease, and tries to find the source of what made Derek lose control and whether or not that control can be re established.
What he finds is a cloaking spell locked tight around Derek’s identity, which explains why Derek was so afraid of Stiles’ magick. Someone put a spell on Derek to make him feral, stripping him of his control and identity. It makes Stiles pull back with a frown. He runs his hand through Derek’s hair again, trying to calm him down. “Why would someone do this to you?” Not only is it illegal to use magick against someone like that, but it also doesn’t make sense that someone would want to make Derek feral. What could their purpose for that be?
He sighs, thinking about how he can break the spell. Before he can figure out what ingredients he needs, Derek moves. He wraps his hand around the wrist Stiles has buried in his hair, and tugs him forward, pulling him past the line of mountain ash and into his lap. Stiles curses at his own stupidity and closes his eyes when he feels Derek’s breath on his neck. But the werewolf doesn’t bite down like he expects. Instead, with a whine, be buries his nose against Stiles’ neck.
“Um, buddy? Derek?”
The werewolf whines again, and holds his captive tighter. “Okay, gentle with Stiles! Stiles is too human to withstand werewolf strength!” He looks up at the camera positioned in the corner of the cell. “A little help here,” he calls out to it, hoping someone is paying attention enough to show up before Derek gets hungry.
Actually, the werewolf seems calmer now. When Stiles turns to look at his face, he allows the movement. There is more awareness in his expression than there was before, despite the fact that he’s obviously still feral. A plan is forming in his head when Greenberg and Scott appear at the cell door.
Stiles raises his hands quickly to keep them at bay when Derek starts growling again. “Please don’t freak out. It may not look like it, but I have everything under control here. I just need you guys to bring me some ingredients for a spell.”
Scott looks at the claws tucked too close to his best friend’s abdomen before looking at him like he thinks Stiles has finally lost it. But before he can protest, Chris walks into view behind his employees, making Stiles wince.
“Hey, Boss. This-. Uh. Trust me, this looks worse than it actually is.”
The older man pinches the bridge of his nose. “How exactly did you end up in this situation, Stiles? You know better than to get too close to feral creatures, especially werewolves. They’re dangerous.”
“I know, but I needed to do his initial assessment and-.”
“Those can be done outside of a mountain ash barrier.” His eyes narrow as he sighs. “You take too many risks, and this isn’t the first time that I’ve told you that. You’re reckless and impulsive.”
Stiles snorts. He wants to point out that this isn’t exactly the right time for an employee audit. Besides, Chris should have known what he was getting when he hired Stiles. He’s always been reckless and impulsive. Patting at Derek’s arm to try and get the werewolf to quiet down, Stiles isn’t the only one surprised when it actually works. “Listen, I know that it looks bad, and I know I definitely got too close, but he’s not going to hurt me. Someone used a spell to make him feral, and I need some ingredients so that I can break it.”
That stops Chris’ rant. “What do you mean, someone did this to him?”
He shrugs as best he can in the werewolf’s hold. “I mean there’s a spell binding him in this form, an intricate one too. Trauma didn’t make Derek feral. Someone wanted him this way.”
“Shit,” he mutters. There’s a long moment where Chris considers the implications of what Stiles reported. Finally, with a sigh, he turns back to his employees. “Just-. Scott, gather whatever Stiles needs. Do whatever you can to get him out of this.” He points a finger at Stiles, looking stern. “But I’m sending Lydia in to help you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Derek pulls him closer and growls at Chris’ threat, making the older man step back. Stiles hides a smile against Derek’s arm. “Lydia can stay, that’s fine. I’ll do my best to help him.”
Finally, Chris sighs. “Yeah, I know you will. Just be careful. Greenberg, you come with me. There’s something we need to check.”
When they’re gone, Stiles grins up at Scott’s dumbstruck expression. “You ready, buddy?”
Scott shakes his head in disbelief. “How is it that you’re so calm right now? And how is it that Chris just lets you do whatever you want? You both are crazy!”
Stiles snaps his fingers, trying to get his best friend’s attention. “Dude, this is not the time for you to have a break down. I need you to get everything I ask, okay. And if you can’t find it, Lydia will know what I need. Now, are you ready?”
He doesn’t look happy about it, but Scott sighs and nods. Stiles rattles off everything he can think of that would help, then sends him on his way. He pats Derek’s arm again. “Don’t worry, dude. I’ll do whatever I can to help you get back to normal.”
Derek makes a low rumbling sound and buries his head back into the crook of Stiles’ neck. They’re still sitting that way when Lydia shows up, looking unamused. “Really, Stiles. I tell you to be careful and instead you go and get adopted by a feral werewolf?” She shakes her head. “Whatever, let’s just get this done. Are you going to stay there for the spell?”
“Yeah. I’m keeping Derek calm, and that’s important.”
She watches him for a long moment, but doesn’t protest. Instead, she gets to work setting up his elemental stones. Stiles’ doesn’t need to direct her for the setup; they’ve worked spells together enough times that she knows where everything goes. And her banshee energy purifies the environment as she moves around, connecting everything together. Stiles takes it all in, allowing the magick she weaves to wind through him. Derek keeps making low, distressed sounds, but he doesn’t get hostile again.
When everything is set up, she turns to look at him, an unspoken question in her gaze. Stiles nods, and watches as she breaks the mountain ash barrier. Her final step is to place a bowl full of water in front of the pair. Then she steps back.
Stiles closes his eyes and bows his head at the bowl. Derek rumbles uncomfortably, tightening his grip and panting into Stiles’ neck. The mage pushes his back against Derek’s chest for comfort, and bridges their energies. Diving into Derek’s unconscious is uncomfortable. It feels like a complete intrusion of his privacy, and he tries his best to skip past Derek’s memories to get to the spell binding his identity, but he still gets parts of an intense young love, an act of mercy, and a fight for survival before he finds what he’s looking for.
The spell is a deep red bind, ugly in comparison to Derek’s soft blue aura. It’s well crafted, the work of someone with years of experience. As he begins to unravel it, Stiles can feel Derek relax into him, making the connection easier. Stiles sends feelings of gratitude his way, then allows himself to get swept up in the magick.
He doesn’t know how long it takes, whether it’s minutes or hours. But finally, the red bind unwinds. It makes Stiles breathe easier, allows him to relax. He starts pulling away, drawing back from Derek’s consciousness. But a spot of brilliant gold catches his attention. And he knows he shouldn’t, knows better than to meddle more than he already has. But he can’t help but nudge it a little, give it some warmth and attention.
He’s snapped out of the spell when his body hits the cell floor. Returning to himself so suddenly makes him nauseous. He spends a few seconds dry heaving, his body shaking with the effort, before he registers how quiet it is in the room. Stiles looks at Lydia first. Her eyes are wide as she looks past him. He turns slowly to look at Derek, and his jaw drops.
“Well, shit.”
Instead of seeing Derek in his human or beta form, Stiles comes face to face with a large, black wolf. The wolf nudges his face against Stiles’ and whines.
“Lydia, how common is it for a werewolf to achieve a full shift?”
It takes her a moment to respond, though he already knows the answer. “The statistic is very low. It’s a rare occurrence for werewolves to achieve the shift. Aside from Talia Hale, only five other alphas across the world have reportedly reached this form.”
He keeps his eyes of the wolf. “And Derek was never one of these reported cases, was he?”
“No.” There’s a long pause. Then, “Stiles, what did you do?”
Finally, he turns to look at her, ignoring the instincts that scream at him for turning his back on the predator in the room. “Why do you think I did something?” She glares at him until he gives in. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t even know what it was. There was just this spot that was repressed, and it was so gold and bright that I thought giving it some energy would be beneficial.”
“Stiles! Do you know how irresponsible that it?” Lydia is understandably furious. “You can’t just dig around in someone’s head, especially without permission. You know how bad that is. It could get you fired and sued, or worse. Are you really that dumb?”
Derek barks, breaking the tension in the room. He positions his body between them, pressing his side against Stiles’ chest and watching Lydia in a less than friendly way. Stiles is baffled by the obvious act of protection.
She rubs her temples and lowers her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s just, sometimes you’re so reckless. One of us need to watch out for you, and since you obviously won’t, that means I need to.”
He sighs. “I know. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. It just kind of happened.”
Her eyes soften. “I know you didn’t mean to. I’ll stand with you, no matter what way this goes.” Gathering herself, she regains her control. “For now we have work to do. Chris is trying to track down someone that could put a spell like this on Derek. Obviously, that includes a huge range of mages and other types of magick users, but a crime has been committed so he’s trying his best to figure it out and he could use your help sorting through the group of mages. Allison has been in charge of contacting Mrs. Hale, who should be here in a few hours. Until then, we have to try and figure out a motive. It would have been helpful to have Derek’s input on what happened, but he’s a giant wolf now, so unless he can change back, he’s no help.”
They both watch Derek for a drawn out moment. When he remains in his wolf form, Stiles sighs and gets to his feet. “I’m not going to try and break this form. Not only have I done way too much already, but who knows if I’d even be able to help without unraveling his ability to shift into this form completely. Talia should be able to help him figure it out.”
Lydia nods in agreement. “There’s just one thing; what are we going to do with him until she gets here?”
Derek bristles at the questions and bumps back against Stiles knees. It makes the mage smile. “Well, he’s not feral anymore, so he’s not a threat to anyone in the agency. He can hang out at my desk until his mom gets here.”
She doesn’t argue. “Whatever. I have work to do. You can clean this up.” Before she leaves she adds, “I’ll tell Chris about what’s happened and let him know that Derek will be with you.”
He thanks her, watching as she struts away. Derek turns to look at him, a question in his gaze. “She’s always been like that,” Stiles reassures as he gathers his equipment. “Ever since we met in grade school, Lydia Martin has always been a force to reckon with. Come on, I’ll tell you the story of how we all ended up here, just so you’re clued in. Plus, you’re probably wondering just exactly where you ended up.” He leans down to look the wolf in his eyes before they leave. “I’m really sorry for this, Derek. I didn’t mean to meddle. I understand that it broke your privacy when I had no right, and I’m so sorry.”
The werewolf tilts his head in understanding and butts their noses together softly. Stiles takes it as understanding, and climbs back to his feet. “Alright, we have work to do, buddy. Let me give you a tour of this place.”
Derek walks alongside Stiles as they move around the agency, listening closely to his stories. The few people that they run into during the tour greet both of them, not questioning why Stiles is walking with a wolf companion. When the tour is finished, Stiles leads them back to his desk. There is a pile of documents waiting for him to sift through, and he starts immediately getting to work trying to narrow down the list of mages. Derek, though he remains stuck in his full wolf shift, proves to be a lot of help. He manages to, with the help of a large map, pinpoint where he was when the spell was cast, which helps them narrow down their search. However, they don’t really get anywhere. There are just too many mages to sort through, and no way to pick the right one amongst the group.
Instead of continuing to work in circles, Stiles starts filling out his report on Derek. He is relieved when the werewolf clambers to his feet, his tail wagging in excitement. Seconds later, Lydia appears by his desk. “Come on, Stiles. Mrs. Hale is here and she’s wants to see her son.”
Even though the wolf is obviously excited to be with his family again, he waits until Stiles is ready to go and then walks by his side instead of leaving him behind. It makes something warm curl in Stiles’ chest.
Talia Hale turns out to be an intimidating woman, not because she looks mean or scary. It’s just that her aura is all powerful control and confidence. Even standing beside Chris, she is obviously the one in charge. Derek bounds up to her, making a series of excited yips and wagging his tail. Talia brushes her fingers in the fur at his neck, and smiles. “I see you’ve managed a full shift, my son. You’ve had a very exciting few days.” She looks up, locking her powerful green gaze on Stiles. “Thank you for helping him, for removing the spell making him feral.” She smirks. “And thank you for keeping him company until I got here.”
Something about her knowing smile is unnerving. He clears his throat, barely managing to maintain eye contact. “Mrs. Hale, I was able to break the spell that was keeping Derek in a feral state, but instead of returning to a human form, he’s been stuck like this.” He considers holding back his involvement in the shift, but ends up admitting, “I may have accidentally pushed this shift as I was breaking the spell on him.” He lowers his eyes, carefully demonstrating a show of submission. “My apologies.” A cold nose bumps into his hand, but he ignores the nudge.
Derek doesn’t like being ignored. He barks, startling everyone in the room, and jumps up against Stiles’ chest so he can look him in the eye. Immediately, Stiles raises his hands up and buries them in his fur to help support the weight on his chest. His eyes are glowing bright red. Stiles can’t look away.
Talia’s bright laughter breaks the tension in the room. Derek hops off of Stiles, but presses against his side. Stiles can’t help but keep one hand curled in the wolf’s fur. Talia’s eyes are bright in amusement. “I see now. Please, don’t worry about Derek’s shift. I can help him control it.”
Chris clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to the problem at hand. “Mrs. Hale, we would like to discuss this attack with you. We have been trying to narrow down who could have done this, but there are too many options.”
Stiles jumps in at the pause, effortlessly picking up his queue. “Sometimes, magick uses will leave a signature on the spell, a thread to pick up.”
Lydia takes the lead. “Think about it the same way that bombers will add some signature piece to the bombs they make. It helps to distinguish them and link their bombs together, but it doesn’t necessarily make it easier for them to be tracked. And with magick users, sometimes leaving a signature makes the spell stronger because it feeds off of the person crafting it.”
“When I was unraveling the spell, I couldn’t pick up on any signature. Not at first anyway. But just before it fell apart, there was a small one tying it together.” He holds out the paper where he drew the symbol. “Unfortunately, it didn’t help us find anything. Obviously signatures are often times very personal and secret; but this one was actually too vague to be helpful.”
Talia frowns as soon as she sees the drawing. She traces the spiral with a closed off expression, then sighs. “I know this mark. It represents revenge.” When she looks up, her eyes are bright red. “I know who’s behind this. And I know why they had the spell cast.”
Chris makes a sweeping gesture, inviting her to explain. “I’m sure that you’re all aware of the backlash supernatural creatures received as we fought for our rights. As the person at the forefront of the fight, I watched first hand as groups of protesters fought against us. After we won, these problems of hate and discrimination never went away, though they got better. However, there was one group particularity that refused to back down and stay quiet. They call themselves the Hunters, and this is their brand. When I was elected into my office, I received an anonymous phone call from one of their members, promising that one day everything in my world was going to crumble down, and that they personally would make sure that people saw me for the monster that I am.” Her expression is hard. “What better way to show the people that supernatural creatures are nothing more than monsters than to have the representative’s son go feral and kill someone.”
Derek whines and shrinks down to the floor. Talia kneels beside him, running her fingers through his coat. “Thank you for finding him before someone got hurt.”
Chris rubs at his face. If Talia is right, the problem their facing is much bigger than they anticipated. “Mrs. Hale, if you’re willing to work with us with might be able to expose this plot to the public so that it can’t be used again.”
“Of course, I will do anything you need.”
“Excellent.” Chris starts delegating tasks that needs to get done, excusing Stiles as he goes. The mage’s work is done. With one last look in Derek’s direction, Stiles exits the conference room and goes back to his desk. There are other projects that he’s working on that could use his attention, and even though a part of him wants to stay and help Derek and his mother in any way he can, there are other people more qualified to track information down.
Instead he focuses his energy on other things, quickly losing himself in the work. As he’s finishing up and getting ready to head home, someone taps on his desk, effectively breaking his concentration. Looking up, Stiles comes face to face with Derek Hale.
Stiles has seen quite a few pictures of Derek over the years, but seeing him in person is altogether different. Being able to watch firsthand as his lips quirk up into a smile and his eyes crinkle at the corners makes Stiles take a sharp breath. He’s beautiful, and Stiles is trying so hard to decide what color the other man’s eyes are that he misses the question directed at him.
It makes Derek laugh. Stiles’ cheeks color. “Oh, um. Hey. What did you say?”
The smile that Derek sends his way is full of warmth. “I asked if you were getting ready to leave?”
“Oh!” He straightens some of the files on his desk. “Yeah, this is about the time I head out. Um. Is there something that I can do to help with the case?”
Derek shakes his head. “No, everything is pretty much under control now. Lydia is working with my mom’s publicist to write the story, and once that’s done it’s just handling the responses that come with it. Trying to figure out where the threat and the spell came from directly will be taken care of later, with my mom’s team. Your agency has been a huge help.”
Stiles scratches the back of his head. “Oh, uh. That’s great to hear. I-.” He takes a deep breath. “Listen, I’m so sorry that I knowingly messed around in your head, and if you feel the need to take legal action, I totally understand.”
The expression on the werewolf’s face softens. “Stiles, I don’t want to take any legal action. I’m not even mad at you.” He bites his lip, looking shy suddenly. “Actually, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner.”
He blinks, confused. “I dig around in your head without your permission, and you want to take me to dinner? Why?”
“Well, first of all, you saved my life.” His nose wrinkles up in concentration. “It’s hard to describe what it feels like to be feral. It’s a complete loss of control, but more than that it’s forgetting that you ever had control in the first place. And everything is a threat. It’s one of the worst things that can happen to a wolf. But then you showed up and you weren’t afraid of me, uneasy sure, but not afraid. You helped me remember that I had a human form, and then you broke the spell. Then, as if that hadn’t been enough, you saw something bright within me and gave it life. I probably never would have reached a full shift if it wasn’t for your digging.”
Stiles feels himself flush at the awe and praise in Derek’s voice. “I-. I just wanted to help you.”
The smile Derek gives him is bright. “I know. That’s why I would like to take you to dinner.”
Just to make sure that he sees the whole picture, Stiles asks, “So you want to take me out as a thank you?”
A blush appears at the tips of Derek’s ears. “Not entirely. I-. You smell really nice, like home sort of, and I think you’re beautiful.” The words come out in a rush. “So, I guess what I’m asking is-. Will you let me take you to dinner, as a thank you and as a date?”
Stiles, who prides himself on being intuitive, can honestly say that he didn’t see that coming. But he’s more than happy to say, “Yes, yes absolutely. I would love to go out with you.” He probably sounds too excited, but it makes Derek smile bigger and hold out his hand. Picking up his jacket, Stiles lets the werewolf pull him closer to his side and lead the way.
