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Another year, another fandom, more writing, more fics! My word count for the year isnāt ~as~ accurate this time around because I didnāt keep a word count log this year. But even with just my published works, I beat 2016! 9 Star Wars fics, and 7 Teen Wolf fics updated or completed! The list of all of them are beneath the cut! (Followed by the yearly queue!)
In 2018 my goal is to finish more WIPs! Haha, especially some that have been hanging around for way too long.
Star Wars
|| Gen ||
Bodhi adopts Finn oneshot | T | 1,314 words | Complete |
| 1 |
|| RebelCaptainPilot ||
untitled angst ficlet | T | 1,813 words | WIP |
| 1 |
|| RogueCaptainJedi ||
A New Hope AU notfic | G | 477 words |
| 1 |
|| SniperPilot ||
Bodhi Rookās Guide to Love | G | 2,521 words | Complete |
| 1 |
Hearts in atrophy | M | 8,560 words | WIP |
| 1 | 2 |
My Heart is Calling | G | 3,063 words | Complete |
| 1 |
Something so magic about you | G | 6,746 words | Complete |
| 1 |
Spy notfic | G | 325 words |
| 1 |
Standing Invitation | G | 2,617 words | Complete |
| 1 |
Teen Wolf
|| McHaleinski ||Ā
My Head is an Animal - Side A | T | 14,782 words | WIP |
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |
My Head is an Animal - Side B | T | 19,151 words | WIP |
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |
You donāt have to love me | E | 27,973 words | Complete |
| 1 | 2 | 3Ā |
|| Scerek ||
Iām giving you all | M | 10,021 words | Complete |
| 1 |
|| Sterek ||
All of me uncharted | E | 13,351 words | Complete |
| 1 | 2Ā |
Anything you say can and will be held against you (so only say my name) | M | 60,242 | WIP |
āIād much rather be planning our first Valentineās Day,ā Scott laughs nervously. āIf I promise to make it super romantic, will you let me slip out the back and escape into the Preserve?ā
Derek leans over his shoulder, his smile teasing. āWhat if I wanted to be the one to give the big romantic surprise?ā
āI could be convinced if you let me run out of this meeting?ā
āMm. Nice try.ā Derek leans in again, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple. Scottās insides promptly go, well, gooey. āYouāll do great. I promise.ā
In which a last minute inter-Pack meeting goes, predictably, horribly wrong and forces Scott to consider the werewolf dos and donāts of relationship traditions.
This story includes Pack dynamics, werewolf traditions, misunderstandings, one cliche visiting Pack asshole, werewolf proposals, fluff, talks about the consent issues of werewolf romance tropes (mating/claiming bites), and blowjobs.Ā
This story is NSFW.
So this was supposed to be for the Scerek Valentine Event for Feb 13th, the Proposal prompt. AND I HAD IT DONE. But then... I realized one scene needed serious work. And then I fell into the editing hole and just slowly grew more frustrated by the fic the more I tried to fix it. So Iām putting it out now before I get so angry at its small mistakes that I just delete the whole thing.
Tagging @queerlyalex, @dydia, @sleepy-skittles, and @hobrien who I very much hope enjoy this fic!!! Hope you guys had awesome Valentineās Days!
Swallow my breath and take what is mine.
(Iām giving you all, Iām giving you all)
āāāāāāā1āāāāāāā
Thereās a scared boy looking at Scott in the mirror. Oh, he may be a man, technically - twenty-years-old and more world weary than any man his age has right to be. But despite that, all Scott sees is the same scared boy that thought going into the woods at night was a great idea. āOkay,ā Scott tells his reflection. āYou can do this. Youāve got this.ā
His reflection doesnāt seem too sure about that.
āYou can do this,ā he repeats. As if maybe saying it enough times will make it come true.
Thereās a soft tap against the bathroom door. āScott?ā Derekās voice calls gently from the other side.
Scott flinches, cringing at his reflection in the mirror. āYeah, Iām coming,ā he answers. He takes one last deep breath, one last chance to shake the jitters out of his hands, and finger-combs his hair back into perfect order. When he opens the bathroom door, Derekās expression is sympathetic. āHey,ā Scott mumbles. The sight of his boyfriend usually has the effect of chasing Scottās worries away. But today itās just too much, and all he wants to do is curl up against the man and hide.
āHey. You ready? Alpha Ortega will be here soon.ā
āNo,ā Scott wants to say. Heās not ready for this. Heās supposed to be a college student, only worried about money and putting his life together and making sure heās caught up on classwork so he can take the week of Valentineās Day off to suitably woo his boyfriend. (Heās gone through at least a dozen ideas at this point. All of them range from falling too short to being, well, too much. Especially the gift he really wants to give Derek.) He shouldnāt have to fret about life and death and starting a supernatural turf war at a last minute Pack delegation. But heās the Alpha, and so he sucks it up and lies through his teeth. āAs ready as Iāll ever be.ā
Itās a blatant lie, but Derek only hums in response. He steps easily into Scottās space, doesnāt even hesitate to lift a hand to Scottās shoulder. Itās the simplest touch and yet it sends has the tight vice around his heart easing just a bit. It makes Scott think of all the years theyāve missed out on, on how many years heād thought about being this close to older āwolf. āItās okay to be nervous,ā Derek reminds him softly.
Scott winces. āYou can smell that? Is it that bad?ā
Derek looks like heās fighting not to roll his eyes. āScott, I donāt need to smell anything to see that youāre nervous.ā
Thatās even worse. This is going to be a disaster. Why did Scott ever agree to meet with the neighboring Pack? Life was hard enough when their ragtag group was just fighting to survive. Now they have to add negotiating and politics to it. āThis isnāt going to work,ā he says in a rush of breath, panic overtaking him for a terrifying instant. āWe should call this off. Alpha Ortega is going to see how awful I am at this and sheās going to wipe the floor with meā¦ā
His face is tipped up by a firm hand at his chin before he has a chance to finish. A warm, soft mouth covers his own, smothering the self-deprecating words and even the thoughts. He sways when Derek pulls away, trying to chase after him. The other man grins. āYouāre going to do fine,ā he says, leaving no room for argument, and takes Scottās hand to lead him out into the front room. āYouāve gone over this with Satomi a hundred times. And at least half that much with me.ā
He guides Scott to down into the armchair facing the door. Scottās never paid much attention to the purposeful layout of the room or the floorplanning of the Pack house, but now that he really looks, itās increasingly obvious that this room was always meant to be for meetings like this. The sitting room is almost formal in comparison to the rest of the house, and itās impossible to get to other rooms without going through this one first - impossible to see into the Packās private space without making it past this room.
When Derek had designed his new home - the Packās home, heād done it this in mind. Scott can see that now. And realizing that sends the anxiety spiraling faster through him. Itās one more unspoken thing about being a Pack - about being an Alpha - that Scott doesnāt know. That he doesnāt have the background for, no matter how much training heās had since high school. He could train for this one meeting for years and heād still be going in blind. Which is why agreeing to this meeting was a terrible idea.
Itās not like he had much of a choice. The Ortegas are now the most powerful Pack on the west coast, given the tragedies that befell both the Hale and Ito Packs in the last decade. Their Pack is old and prestigious, apparently; their territory encompassing most of southern California and south-west Arizona. Given that the Ortega Pack and the Hale Pack were neighbors, and that Scott has inherited the territory (Alpha Ortegaās words, which make something bitter turn over in Scottās chest), he couldnāt exactly refuse when Beatriz Ortega asked to reestablish communications.
It was Derek who suggested that the meeting take place at the Pack house, in their territory rather than Alpha Ortegaās. It would be a show of good faith to welcome an old ally into a new territory, especially after they worked so hard to rebuild it. And that is why Scott asked, no, begged, Derek to be there with him. Not just because this is Derekās house, but because he has a background with this Pack and with werewolf customs in general. And heās slightly less likely than Stiles to open his mouth and cause offense, even if he is equally as suspicious.
Andā¦
A warm hand settles at the back of his neck with a gentle squeeze. Scottās been so caught up in his thoughts that he hasnāt noticed Derek stepping up behind him. Scott lets himself lean into the touch. They may have been dating for only a little over seven months, but Scott is away at school so often that everything feels so new. Heās hypersensitive to every touch, and every look. The amazement that these are things heās allowed to have now is still so fresh. So not only does he need Derek here, he wants him here. Having Derek stand by him satisfies something primal in him that Scott isnāt sure how to name, but he takes solace in it nonetheless.
āIād much rather be planning our first Valentineās Day,ā Scott laughs nervously. āIf I promise to make it super romantic, will you let me slip out the back and escape into the Preserve?ā
Derek leans over his shoulder, his smile teasing. āWhat if I wanted to be the one to give the big romantic surprise?ā
āI could be convinced if you let me run out of this meeting?ā
āMm. Nice try.ā Derek leans in again, pressing a sweet kiss to his temple. Scottās insides promptly go, well, gooey. āYouāll do great. I promise.ā
They hear the Ortega Pack long before they reach the house. The two of them sit in stilted silence, straining to listen as Alpha Ortegaās car winds up the forest road towards the house. Scott takes one last steadying breath. āOkay,ā he murmurs. Derek nods and goes out the door to wait for their guestsā arrival. A car pulls to a stop in front of the house a few minutes later. Even if he couldnāt hear the three heartbeats under the rumbling of the engine, the tug of a foreign Alpha in his territory is unmistakable. Scott clenches his hands around the arms of the chair, willing his heartbeat to remain steady.
But something shifts as Alpha Ortega and her three Betas exit the car. Thereās the barest stutter of a heartbeat - quickly smothered into silence. āWelcome, Alpha Ortega--ā Derek starts to greet, but before he can finish, a womanās sharp voice interrupts him.
āDerek Hale?ā
ā...Yes, Alpha.ā
Thereās a conspicuous silence that has Scott all but jittering in his seat. Thereās several seconds where Scott imagines horrible possibilities of a brewing fight right on their front porch. But eventually Derek steps back inside, leading Beatriz Ortega and her two Betas in with him.
Alpha Ortega an imposing woman. Sheās tall and solid and walks with a ornate cane due to an injury from a wolfsbane bullet that never quite healed. Heās met her only briefly before, when he visited San Diego to help settle Lori Talbot in for college last year. Satomi had acted as a buffer, then, and had done most of the formal introduction work to cover the fact that Scott had no idea what he was doing. Still, Alpha Ortega had been gracious. Even kind. And interested, which is what led to this.
But now something is⦠different. As Beatriz Ortega enters the Pack house, sheās wearing a stony frown. Itās as close to tightly concealed anger as Scott has ever seen on her ageless face, and thereās something like disappointment flashing behind her eyes. Worried, Scott climbs to his feet. āAlpha Ortega, itās an honor to have you here,ā he greets, his words coming out only slightly rehearsed. āDid you have any trouble?ā
āEverything is in order, Alpha McCall,ā she returns, but her voice is a measured coldness. Her gesture towards her Betas is almost dismissive. āMy guests: August, my son and heir; Vanessa, our vanguard.ā Scott nods to each of them in turn, growing more ill at ease with each cold greeting.
āItās great to meet you,ā he attempts, gesturing towards Derek in kind. āThis is--ā
āYes, I remember Derek. His mother met with us often.ā His mouth clicks shut, choking back the rise of irritation. Alpha Ortega doesnāt even glance Derekās way, but the others peer in his direction. The vanguardās expression is almost stoic, but August watches with something akin to a sneer on his face.
The meeting goes rapidly downhill from there.
Alpha Ortega is never hostile in her words, but the brittle civility is as subtle as a knife to the ribs. Something has angered her. Itās evident in every masked compliment about their territory and his Packās progress and in every suggestion that both Packs should meet soon. Itās all hollow words and steely eyes, and it makes Scott want to sink into his chair. He finds himself running through every possible misstep, and in the end can only deduce that Derek seems to be the problem.
While Alpha Ortega seems to pretend Derek doesnāt exist, her Betas are not as careful. Every word Derek speaks, or any advice whispered into Scottās ear is met with judgment or outright disgust. When Derekās last suggestion is met with a quiet scoff, Scott actually grips the arm of his chair hard enough for it to creak. Derek isnāt blind to it. His shoulders are growing tighter with every passing minute; his jaw clenching tighter with every near-silent jeer.
āWhy donāt you run along and get us something to drink?ā August finally sighs with a shooing motion. Itās said flippantly, not with hostility. But it turns the room several degrees colder all the same.
āAugust,ā Alpha Ortega growls, at the same time Scott bares his teeth, halfway to a shout. But before he can let loose the roar thatās been building in his chest all through this meeting, Derek lays a hand on his shoulder.
āOf course,ā he says stiffly. āIāll be back in a moment.ā Scott watches with disbelief as the older āwolf simply turns and walks from the room, as if the other Pack hadnāt spent the last ten minutes either silently belittling him or ignoring his existence.
āMy apologies, Alpha McCall,ā August amends sweetly, āis that not what you use him for?ā
āExcuse meā¦?ā Scott trails off, aghast. Heās keenly aware of all the eyes in the room have turned to him, Alpha Ortegaās most of all. Sheās watching him closely now, waiting, not reprimanding her son for speaking of Scottās Pack that way.
Augustās sneer sharpens, a righteous flicker in his eyes. āYou made him to be your servant, yes? Letās not be coy about it, pretending that you wanted him here for his advice. Then again, given how much you smell of each other, maybe you keep him around for something else. It would be easy. I could smell the pining from here.ā
Scott realizes heās on his feet a second too late. āGet OUT!ā The pictures on the wall rattle with the force of his roar. The Betas flinch as if struck. Vanessa leaps to her feet, grasping the Ortega heir by the shoulder as if to drag him behind her at a momentās notice. Their Alpha doesnāt move. Sheās still watching him. āYouāre no longer welcome in our home,ā Scott continues at a quieter, but no less furious register. āLeave.ā
Beatriz Ortega rises sedately from her chair and folds her hands neatly over the head of her cane, unfazed by the sudden outburst. āAs you wish, Alpha McCall. Do you wish us to leave the territory immediately, of may we prepare for the trip home first?ā
The request catches Scott off guard. She doesnāt appear at all worried by how things have turned out. Her eyes are calculating, uncaring of his anger. It makes the burst of rage fizzle out. āI⦠Take as much time as you need,ā he replies weakly.
Alpha Ortega nods, and shows herself and her Betas to the door without waiting for an escort. Scott follows them at a distance anyway, the fury icing over in his chest, joining the dread and the anxiety that had settled there long before this. Even after the door is closed behind them, Scott stands and listens to the group get silently back into their car, and drive the long path back to the road.
His hands are shaking.
āWhy did you do that?ā
Scott canāt help but flinch. Derekās come back into the room, his expression guarded. āWhy? Derek you heard what they said. It was--ā
āHe was just running his mouth, Scott. Trying to get a rise out of you. You didnāt have to kick them out for that. I can handle a little name calling.ā
He sputters. āA little-- Derek. He said horrible things! I donāt care if it was just to piss me off. Iām not going to sit there and let them talk about people I love that way!ā
Derekās eyes widen, mouth dropping open enough to reveal the bottom edge of his - frankly adorable - front teeth. Itās not going to distract Scott from what happened. Heās just ruined their relationship with a neighboring Pack, but Scott doesnāt care about that when it was either that or let them say hurtful things about his boyfriend, about his Pack.
āWhy would he say those things?ā A horrible idea strikes him before Derek can come up with an answer. āDid they always act like this? Did you just go along with us meeting them even if they treat you like that?ā
āWhat? No.ā Derek steps forward, grasping his arms in firm hands. āNo. Itās nothing like that.ā Thereās no stutter in his heartbeat, but no, no, Scott is intimately familiar with what Derek looks like when heās not telling him something. He knows the careful way in which the older man canāt fully meet his eyes, for fear that Scott will notice. āThe Ortega Pack is just⦠traditional. Donāt let it bother you.ā
ā...Okay,ā Scott relents after a moment.
--------------------2---------------------
Itās a lie.
It bothers him. A lot.
It bothers him more every time Derek brushes it off, which happens with increasing frequency over the next few days. He refuses to talk about it, going so far as to ask Scott not to tell the Pack why exactly the meeting went wrong. Or even that it went so badly wrong. It only proves that thereās more to this than Derek will admit.
But the more worried Scott becomes, the more cagey Derek gets about the whole thing. Until by the end of the week, his boyfriend is all but avoiding him. Thatāsā¦
No. Scott canāt handle that.
āYou guys having a fight?ā Stiles asks through a mouthful of cheetos. As if he isnāt aware that Scott asked him to hang out, not entirely subtly, to ask for advice.
āNo?ā
His best friend crunches slowly. āUh-huh. That didnāt sound to sure.ā Thereās silence between them until Stiles swallows his bite, and then pauses Daredevil. āYou guys are fighting right before Valentineās Day. Thatās rough, man. It was something that happened at that meeting with the Ortega Pack, right?ā At Scottās wince, he rolls his eyes. āPlease, like you could hide that. I dunno whatās more insulting: that you chose your grumpy werewolf boyfriend to be at the meeting instead of me--ā
āWell, he does know about negotiating with--ā
ā--Details, Scotty. Or the fact that you thought you could hide that something happened during the meeting thatās causing you and Werebunny to get into a loverās spat. Sloppy, man,ā Stiles admonishes. āJust sloppy.ā
It only takes that and a single, prolonged stare from Stiles for Scott to break his word, and tell him everything. Every out of place word from Alpha Ortega and every veiled barb that had been sent their way. Itās vindicating for Stiles to make outraged sounds as heās retelling it, and even interject with āWhat a dick!ā at appropriate intervals. At the end of it, though, heās frowning thoughtfully.
āHe said you made Derek to be your servant,ā he says. āWhy?ā
āI⦠I donāt know,ā Scott admits. Itās one of the many things about the entire encounter that confuses him. āI mean, he canāt be. Derekās always been one of us. Weāre all equal, right?ā
āFor sure, dude. But thatās still significant. Why would they consider Derek the Pack servant?ā
That, Scott doesnāt have an answer for. And the fact that he canāt worries him - the fact that he doesnāt have the knowledge to answer worries him. āI think I need to ask Deatonā¦ā
Stiles scoffs into his soda. āGood luck with that. Tell me if he gives you a straight answer for once.ā
āHeās helped us through a lot, Stiles.ā
āYeah, but that doesnāt mean he has to be so coy about it. Sometimes I just want to know how to kill something. Not a metaphor for balance in the universe.ā
Scott rolls his eyes, and elects to unpause the episode rather than dignify that with an answer. They donāt get more than a few minutes into Matt Murdock laying into a group of mobsters before Stiles speaks again.
āSo⦠was that the first time you told him you loved him?ā
Scott freezes, soda can just barely touching his lips, and then slowly, carefully, sets it back down. ā....What?ā
āDerek,ā Stiles clarifies, brows arching. āWas that the first time you told him you loved him?ā
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It takes two more tries for his exact words to Derek to resurface. And then he grabs his pillow and brings it to his face. And lets out a low, pained moan.
āYou didnāt even realize you said it, did you?ā
āNooooooo.ā
Stiles pats him on the back, his voice pitying. āHang in there, buddy.ā
@queerlyalex brought this onto my dash, so in honor of that, hereās an excerpt from the Scerek fic Iām working on for V-Day. (I hope you like it when itās finished, Alex!)
The news reaches the Pack quickly, because apparently werewolf inter-Pack gossip goes around as fast as small town gossip does. Heās trying to enjoy a relaxing soak with his boyfriend (Fiance? Mate??) the morning after Valentineās when his phone nearly buzzes itself off towel cabinet with the influx of texts and five very insistent phone calls from Stiles.
Scott doesnāt even get the chance to read Stilesā wall of text before his best friend is calling him again.
āIgnore him,ā Derek huffs, mouth hot against his shoulder. Scott shivers despite the warmth of the bath and Derekās body pressed all along his side.
Scott almost considers it. But then again, heās known Stiles for most of his life. The man is his brother, both in spirit and (hopefully) in name soon. He knows exactly how effective ignoring Stiles Stilinski is going to be. āIf I do, heās just going to show up here,ā Scott warns, smirking as Derek smothers a laugh against his skin. He accepts the call.
āHey, Stiles--ā
āYou WEREWOLF PROPOSED to him?!ā
Derekās entire body shakes, the sharp ridge of teeth at his shoulder now in an effort to keep from laughing.
āSorta. Howāre you? Did you guys have a good Valentineās?ā
āFine. Fine. You know āLia doesnāt do the whole Valentineās Day thing. So we invited Kira over and hung out all night. Donāt try to distract me. What do you mean āsortaā? Thereās no sorta proposing, Scott! Either you propose or you donāt.ā
Scott bites the inside of his cheek, and elbows Derek gently in the ribs. His mateās laughter isnāt helping. āTechnically you donāt start planning the wedding until after the moonflowers bloom, so itās not really a proposal. More like a⦠courtship?ā
Thereās a beat of silence, and then Stiles makes a sound rather like heās been stabbed. Scottās been stabbed before, he knows what that sounds like. āWhy, Scott McCall,ā Stiles coos, and thereās an honest to god piss poor attempt at mimicking a Southern belle in his voice. What. āI do declare you are the most gentlemanly Alpha I ever did see--ā
āStop!ā Scott giggles.
āSeriously, you are the most god awful, cheesy, romantic sap. It would be funny if it werenāt so tragically corny.ā
āLike you would pass up the chance to obsessively woo someone for months.ā
āGoddamned right I wouldnāt!ā Stiles shouts vehemently. āIām seething with jealousy over here.ā
āI can tell--ā Scott is thwarted from teasing Stiles any further, because Derek snatches the phone from his hands.
āStiles,ā he grouses.
āSourwolf, sweet sourwolf! Are feeling suitably wooed today?ā
āI was until you called.ā
āOoohh was I interrupting something?ā
āDonāt be a dick, you know you were. Iām hanging up. If you call back, Iāll make you regret it.āĀ
āLike I havenāt heard that before--ā
Derek hangs up with a growl, and tosses the phone back onto the shelf. āCareful!ā Scott yelps as it clatters around.
I really need to stop waiting until the last minute to finish these.
This is for the Scerek Holiday Special! Saturdayās theme is Mistletoe, and this is a... well, a vague attempt.
Title:Ā Thatās not how you use mistletoe
Word Count: 1,513 words
Itās a week before Christmas, and Scott McCall is having an asthma attack.
An asthma attack. Of all things. He would laugh if it didnāt feel like his lungs were trying to squeeze themselves up through his throat. One of the only good things about becoming a werewolf had been that this wouldnāt happen anymore. And yet here Scott is, having a goddamned asthma attack.
As of this morning the most Scott had been concerned with was whether or not hiding fake mistletoe around Derekās loft would be a step over the romantic line into cheesy and lame. Itās their first Christmas together and Scott wants it to be perfect and free of supernatural crisis.
But instead they get sirens. Not cute Disney-esque sirens. No, instead they get āweāre going to nest in Beacon Lake and sing to lure men out into the Preserve where theyāll die from exposureā sirens.
He lets out a wet cough, the taste of something foul on his lips. Scott reaches blindly up to wipe his mouth, trying to concentrate on his breathing.
His hand comes away smeared with black.
Great.
āScott?ā Deatonās voice flickers into his awareness. āAlright, Scott, I want you to try and take deep breaths. I know thatās difficult right now, but this will help get the mistletoe out of your lungs. Donāt try to swallow any of the discharge. Spit it into this pan.ā A mask is carefully fitted over his face, but Deaton is kind enough to let him work through another bout of coughing before he fastens it on securely. Almost immediately Scott can taste the chemical mist flowing through it. Itās almost exactly like the nebulizers heād be fitted with at the hospital when he had particularly bad asthma attacks as a kid.
Even as a werewolf, apparently, the more things change the more they stay the same.
Whatever Deaton has loaded into the nebulizer starts going to work within seconds, at least letting him focus on something other than how it feels like heās drowning on dry land. Stiles is the only other member of the Pack in Deatonās exam room with him. A few others he can hear in the waiting room - Mason, Liam, and Lydiaās voices filter through the walls. The rest, he assumes, are still clearing out the siren den.
āYeah, yeah, heāll be okay. Heās an idiot, but heāll be okay,ā Stiles is saying. Scott squints at him, chest bubbling around another brewing cough. His best friend is on the phone, he realizes. On the phone with--
The voice on the other end registers far later than it should. Scottās eyes go wide, and his emphatic āNOā gets lost as his lungs spasm. He ends up curing into a fetal position and cough until his feels like itās on fire. Something foul fills his mouth, making him fight not to choke.
Stiles is at his side in seconds, pinning his phone between his cheek and his shoulder. A bowl is shoved under Scottās nose, Stilesā other hand tugging the mask away from his face. āSpit,ā he orders.
Scott does, and watches as a truly disgusting gob of black phlegm goes splattering into the dish.
Ugh.
Stiles holds the bowl there until the coughing subsides again. āHeās giving me the āplease donāt tell my boyfriend I did something stupidā look.ā
Scott glares mutinously at him. He is not.
His best friend grins at him. āToo late,ā he tells Scott gleefully, before focusing back on the phone. āUh-huh. Yeah, man, heās fine as long as he takes his medicine like a good boy. ...Uh-huh. Yeah, sure, whatever. See ya.ā He hangs up, tossing the phone gently onto the exam table so he can get Scottās mask back into place. āWell, Scotty boy, your wolfy knight in shining armor will be here any second to scold and cuddle you or whatever it is he does. Probably both.ā
Scott lets out a raspy huff at him. It takes a few tries before he can pant the words: āYou⦠suck.ā
āLove you too, Scott. Now rest up, okay?ā
Stiles retreats to the door, but doesnāt leave entirely - presumably so someone can still keep an eye on Scott. Which is fine, really. Scott tries to relax and breathe as deep as his struggling lungs will let him. The attack has all but exhausted him anyway, so itās easy to drift a little in the dim light and the relative quiet.
He gets lost in focusing Ā on his breathing, so it seems like no time at all before the service bell at the clinicās door rings. There are low voices in the waiting room, and gentle footsteps, and then Stiles says: āHeās all yours.ā
The exam room door shuts.
Scottās eyes flutter open as footsteps approach, and finds Derek standing in front of him. Scott smiles. āHi,ā he mumbles through the mask. But Derek has that frown on his face, the one thatās simultaneously disgruntled and worried and just a little bit tortured - like heās subtly trying to make sure Scott is still there. He sighs, and it gets caught on a small hiccuping cough. āIām in trouble, huh?ā
Derek holds his glare for another half a second, before he takes a long breath and lowers himself into the seat next to Scott. āBig trouble,ā he agrees. But Derek still lets Scott rest his head on his shoulder, so maybe not too much trouble. The older man tucks an arm around Scottās back, pulling him closer, and turning his face into Scottās hair.
āYou okay?ā Derek asks him softly.
Scott shrugs one shoulder and tries very hard not to make his breathing sound labored. āNot too bad. Iāve had worse asthma attacks.ā
He doesnāt so much see his boyfriendās disapproving scowl as he does feel it. āWhat in the hell made you think it was a good idea to run towards that siren before Lydia threw the mistletoe?ā
Oh boy. Scott really wishes he could go back to this morning, when they were curled in Derekās bed and it was soft and warm and siren-free and Scott could breathe properly. āUh,ā he croaks, āShe wasnāt going to slow down? She was charging us.ā
āThe mistletoe would have slowed her down, Scott.ā
āBut not--ā His lungs spasm, threatening another fit, and he ruthlessly suppresses it. Now is not the time. āNot before she wouldāve gotten hold of one of us!ā he argues. His voice wheezes around the words. āIām the Alpha, Iām supposed to protect--ā
And thatās the moment he breaks off into another bout of coughing. Damnit.
Derek holds him through it, even holding up the bowl without flinching while his lungs spew up noxious black discharge. Thereās comforting kisses being pressed into his hair; a hand rubbing his back as he shakes.
Best boyfriend.
āAs someone who used to pull that āIām the Alphaā thing,ā Derek says when Scott goes quiet again, slumping into his chest, āthatās complete bullshit.ā
āDerekā¦ā Scott whines.
āNo. Youāre the Alpha and the strongest, but youāre also the one of us whoās most vulnerable to airborne toxins. Especially when you run straight into a fight when Lydia throws a mistletoe smoke bomb.ā
Scott barely stops himself from squirming under that gently scolding tone. āIf you were there, you wouldāve done the same thing,ā he grumbles. He peers up at his boyfriend, utterly unsurprised when Derek actually looks ready to argue with him. āYou so would. And then youād be sitting here gagging on this--ā he moves the mask out of the way, and spits a tiny bit of phlegm into the pan, ā--shit.
But Derek doesnāt seem to be too impressed by his reasoning. He leans back so Scott can see him better. So Scott doesnāt miss the sad eyes that Derek is currently giving him. Shit. āI just want you to be safe,ā his boyfriend says.
āDonāt guilt trip me,ā Scott pleads, putting an extra pathetic whine in his voice. Itās not hard to do when itās muffled by the mask and wheezy. āYou canāt guilt trip me when Iām injured.ā
āWatch me, Scott.ā
Heās infuriating. And Scott loves him.
āYouāre mean,ā Scott groans with absolutely no heat. āI was going to spare you my lame attempt at Christmas romance, but not when youāre being mean.ā
āOhā¦? And what horrible fate were you saving me from, huh?ā
āI was gonna hang mistletoe up in your apartment and make you kiss me under it.ā
āMake me, huh.ā A small smile tugs at Derekās lips. Something in Scottās chest, that isnāt the lingering effect of mistletoe, loosens.
āYeah. I thought it might be too cheesy, so I wasnāt going to go through with it. But now? Iām going to hang it up right over the bed. 100% the lamest attempt at Christmas romance youāve ever seen.ā
Derek hums, and leans in. A kiss, sweet and warm, is pressed to his forehead. āIf you promise not to inhale it, Iāll kiss you under the mistletoe as many times as you want.ā
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Hereās the LAST of these Thanksgiving ficlets, and this time itās SCEREK - for @queerlyalex and @elfysparkles88, since I understand theyāve been missing Scerek recently. :D
Title: One to remember
Word Count: 2,042 words
Rafael McCall shifts uncomfortably in the armchair - Melissaās armchair - that heās commandeered.
āThis is the best Thanksgiving ever,ā Scott thinks with truly unholy glee.
āSo youāre Scottās⦠boyfriend.ā
Derek leans back into the couch, throwing an arm over the back of it behind Scott like heās done it a thousand times. He hasnāt, in fact heās never done it before, ever, but youād never tell that by the casual, faintly smug grin on his face. āThatās me.ā Scott truly envies the way Derek can speak in a tone so simultaneously polite and menacing.
āI⦠I didnāt know you were gay, son.ā Thereās a distinct, gut-squirming discomfort in his fatherās tone. āYou always had girlfriends. That Argent girl and⦠your girlfriend from junior year. Uh, Kita?ā
āKira,ā Scott corrects. āAnd Iām not. Gay, I mean. Iām bisexual, and so is Derek.ā
Rafael looks faintly ill.
From the kitchen, Scottās keen ears can easily pick up his motherās muffled laughter.
Best Thanksgiving ever.
Scott had never expected Derek to agree to this so readily - hell, heād never expected Derek to agree at all. When heād come to the Pack with his idea to⦠well, saying āruin his fatherās Thanksgivingā sounds a lot more mean than what Scott actually intended with this. But thereās something implicitly rude about his dad inviting himself to Thanksgiving in the spirit of āreconnecting,ā so Scott canāt be blamed for wanting payback. When heād voiced his idea to everyone, heād expected Stiles, certainly. Probably Isaac and maybe Boyd.
āIf he thinks he can just walk right back into our lives as if nothing happened,ā Scott had told them, āheās wrong. Who wants to help me make him work for it?ā
Erica had suggested Derek - the āolder man,ā the ābad boy,ā the āfelon.ā
āThe ridiculously handsome, leather-wearing softie that can throw sass at a momentās notice and has an ass that wonāt quit,ā Scott mentally added at the time.
What he hadnāt counted on was Derek nodding along with Erica and saying, āSure, Iāll do it. So how did you romantically declare your intentions, huh?ā
And now⦠here they are. On Scottās living room sofa. Curled comfortably together as if they do this everyday.
Scott wishes they did this everyday.
āAnd how old are you⦠Derek, right?ā
āTwenty-four, sir.ā
If Scott imagines hard enough, he can actually see the steam coming out of his fatherās ears. Perfect. āIs that so,ā Rafael grunts. āHowād you two meet?ā
Scott anticipates Derek going through their manufactured love story, maybe. Itās a rather simple one: that they met because heās Coraās older brother and after a lot of pining and friendly meddling, Scott worked up the courage to ask him out on a date. But what Derek says is: āScott accused me of murder when he was sixteen. Twice.ā
He nearly inhales his drink. āI did not!ā he coughs. āThat was Stiles!ā The side-eyed glance Derek gives him is enough to make him rethink his words. āUh⦠well, okay, I might have done that.ā
āYou totally did that,ā Derek agrees. Scott nudges him reproachfully, ignoring the way Derekās smile makes his heart flutter. āNo convictions, of course,ā he adds to Scottās father. āBut for some reason he just kept coming around.ā
āOf courseā¦ā his dadās voice is growing more and more brittle with every answer.
But Derek makes no indication that he hears the threat brewing, or that he cares. He flashes a smirk. āIt was annoying at first. But then it was kind of cute.ā
Oh no.
Oh no, this jerk. This adorable, conniving jerk, heās purposefully making this as embarrassing as possible.
āCute,ā his father chokes on the word. āAt sixteen.ā
āNo, the sixteen-year-old was annoying. It wasnāt cute until⦠what, the end of your junior year?ā Heās terrifyingly good at this act, Scott decides. Thereās not a blip in his heart rate. He even makes the blushing look genuine. āAnd then I tried to ignore it. I didnāt want to be creepy.ā
Itās said so lightly, like Derek is trying to make a joke, but something in that last statement just sticks into Scottās brain. He watches for the slightest twitch in Derekās expression, mentally cataloguing everything he knows of Derekās struggles in the past with that one seemingly flippant sentence - thereās a touch of truth there, Scott realizes. Exactly how much of the truth, he doesnāt dare think on. Butā¦
He swoops in, heart in his throat, and presses a quick kiss to Derekās mouth. Theyād agreed to chaste kisses beforehand, no need to go overboard with the whole ruse. So Scott isnāt ashamed of not warning Derek first, especially not when the other man leans into the kiss with only the slightest hesitation.
He pointedly doesnāt think about how soft Derekās lips are. If he does, heās going to kiss Derek again and never stop.
āYou werenāt creepy. You know⦠after I stopped thinking you were a serial killer or whatever.ā
āOr whatever,ā Derek snorts, but his smile is fond.
Scott pats his knee, and moves to stand. āIām gonna go see if Mom needs help with dinner. You two can⦠chat. Have fun, okay?ā
He slides past them both towards the doorway, and is just out of the room when he hears Derek ask: āSo you like baseball?ā
He makes it all the way to the kitchen before he breaks. All he has to do is share a wide-eyed look with his mother and they burst into breathless giggles. āShhh,ā Melissa hisses through her laughter. āS-Shhh, shh! Heāll hear.ā It takes them a few minutes to get back under control. The stilted conversation coming from the living room doesnāt help. āYou sure heāll be alright out there?ā Melissa asks when the laughter has finally subsided.
āWho?ā Scott teases. āDad or Derek?ā He threatens to fall into a fit of giggles all over again, but manages to stop himself. āDerekāll be fine. Heās playing along really well.ā
āOh, very well. You two looked pretty comfortable out there,ā his mother observes.
āI--ā Scott flushes. āWell, yāknow.ā
āYou sure this wasnāt an excuse for you two to get all nice and cuddly?ā
Thereās a sputter from the living room, a wet cough as Derek chokes on his drink.
āMom!ā Scott hisses.
āRight, sorry,ā his mother concedes, not looking sorry at all. āSilly me.ā
Dinner is awkward and spectacular on all accounts. They manage to make everything look natural, like Derek hanging out with Scott and Melissa is something that happens all the time. (Itās not exactly hard when Derek is over for dinner at least once a week when Scott is home between semesters, or when he brings Melissa dinner during her shift sometimes when Scott is away.) Scottās sure he nearly ruins the whole charade, though, when his dad tries to ask what Derek does for a living. Hearing that his āboyfriendā doesnāt have a āreal jobā but is wealthy enough to buy up and flip entire buildings nearly makes the manās head explodes.
Itās the most wonderful thing that Scott has ever witnessed. A true masterpiece. Scottās going to cherish the memory of his fatherās face as Derek offered to give him real estate advice forever.
Theyāre cleaning up after dinner when Rafael pulls him aside. He canāt say he hasnāt been expecting it.
āWhatās up?ā he asks as his dad leads him out onto the porch. āYou taking off?ā
āIn a minute, yeah. But I wanted to talk to you first.ā
Right, sure, what else is new? Scott shrugs. āOkay, shoot.ā
He patiently lets the man stew over his next words, crossing his arms. āI know I donāt have much right to tell you who not to date,ā Rafael begins.
Scott barely holds back a snort. āYouāre right, you donāt.ā
āBut youāve got to stop seeing that man,ā he steamrolls on. āThat man is trouble waiting to happen, already trouble if him actually being arrested is anything to go by.ā
āArrested but never convicted,ā Scott says blandly. āInnocent.ā
āOh please, that asshole has probably never been innocent a day in his life. Scott, youāre smarter than this. You know this guy is nothing but bad news.ā
Scott had expected some pushback from his father tonight. That had been the entire point of this little ruse - to make his father uncomfortable and indignant.
He just didnāt anticipate how angry it would make him.
āYou donāt know him,ā Scott spits. āYou have no idea what kind of person Derek is. Heās a good man, Dad. And he deserves a chance just like anyone else. He deserves to be loved just like anyone else. You donāt get to decide that. He does. I do. I love him, and Iām the only one that gets to decide that!ā When the words trail off, Scottās breathing a little heavier. His heart pounds against his ribs, his throat tight.
Itās enough to make Rafael back down. āI donāt want to fight,ā he attempts to soothe, raising his hands in a show of peace. āI just wanted to warn you.ā Heās already stepping back down the front steps. Not just verbally retreating, but physically. Running. Just like always.
āWell, warning heard. But not accepted,ā Scott informs bitterly.
āAlright. I think Iāve worn out my welcome.ā The particularly spiteful part of Scott wants to tell him that he did that a long time ago, but Scott manages to keep his mouth shut. āGoodbye, Scott.ā
āBye, Dad.ā
He watches Rafael all but slink away with his tail between his legs, for all that his dad makes it look like a casual stroll back to his car. He watches the entire departure with hands clenched around the porch railings, even as his father is starting to drive away down the street.
But arms sliding around him from behind cause him to jump, nearly out of his skin.
āSorry,ā Derek murmurs, right in his ear. Heās so close, pressed all along Scottās back. Thereās no way he can miss the full-body shiver that races through him. And Scott would be worried about that if he wasnāt so focused on the feel of Derek wrapped around him, smelling of warmth and home. Or on the fact that Derekās face is pressed into the crook of the shoulder and Scott can feel every breath on his skin.
āItās okay,ā he yelps. His voice cracks on the words, and he quickly clears his throat. āUh, dadās gone, so you donāt have to...ā He tries to move, but only gasps when Derekās arms tighten around him. ā...Derek?ā
āYou werenāt lying.ā
āUh?ā
āEarlier. What you said. Your heart didnātā¦ā If Scott were braver heād say Derek snuggles into him then. But no, thatās not what this is. Right? āSay it again?ā
āSay what? That uh, that youāre a good man? Because you know you are--ā
āScott. Please.ā
Yeah, Scott should have known this was coming. āIā¦ā He sighs. āI said⦠that I love you.ā
If he fears Derekās reaction, itās gone in the next moment because the man relaxes against Scott, pressing his weight into him and sighing in what sounds like relief. Scott can hear Derekās racing heart as easily as if it were his own. āI love you too,ā Derek says.
Scott leans back into him, feeling as if the world has been pulled out from under his feet. āReally?ā he nearly squeaks. It must come out so disbelieving, so ecstatic, because Derek lets out a breathless laugh against his shoulder. āHey. Hey,ā Scott urges, grasping Derekās hand where itās clenched in his shirt and nudging him until Derek lifts his head. His eyes sparkle in the darkness, soft and sweet. It takes Scottās breath away. āI love you,ā he repeats.
Derekās smile is so tender, so warm that Scott canāt help but lean into his space again. He canāt help but turn in his arms just enough to kiss him, deeper than their staged kiss in the living room. Their kiss lingers, neither of them wanting to let go of this moment.
āIāve been wanting to do that all night,ā Derek admits, breathing the words against his lips.
āYou can now,ā Scott says, and laughs when Derek gathers him close again, as if he plans to do just that.
Iām so excited! This was my first Scerek fic, and Iām so proud of it. Thank you guys so much for the love that was showed to it! Hopefully Iāll get to add another Scerek fic to my repertoire this week. (Iām trying to get it done before Scerek week is over!) This one doesnāt deserve to be lonely. :D
A Scerek fic, rated T. For @queerleighyours. Happy birthday, lovely! :D
7,274 words | Complete
āSo howās operation āGive Scott McCall a blowjob and a day off from Beacon Hillsā going?ā
OR, Derek Hale shows up on Scottās doorstep with no warning and tells him theyāre going on a vacation. Away from Beacon Hills and all of its chaos.
This story includesĀ hurt/comfort, so much pining, Scott feels, referenced open relationships (Draeden), and a sad lack of actual blowjobs. Whoops.
Scott knows somethingās happened when he comes home from the clinic to find his mother crying. Sheās sitting at the table, in front of their ever growing stacks of bills, just like she always seems to be now. Melissa often adds up their debts when heās not home, especially now that she knows about the supernatural. Now that she knows he can sense her anxiety. But still, itās rare for him to come home to her in tears. And terrifying.
āMom?ā he stands just inside the door, unsure if he should be rushing to her side or searching the house for threats.
But when Melissa raises her head, thereās a smile on her face. Itās out of place, with everything thatās happened in the past two years. Her face flushes a deeper pink at the sight of him, her smile sheepish. She wipes her eyes with a watery laugh. āHi, sweetheart,ā she sniffs.
āIs everything okay?ā Scott is hesitant to ask.
āOh, sweetheart.ā Her smile is positively beaming. Melissa stands and goes to him, taking his face in her hands and kissing his forehead. āSweetheart, yes. Everythingās okay. Iām just⦠Iām so proud of you.ā Her voice is wavering again, doing horrible things to Scottās nerves. āI love you so much, baby.ā
āUm. I⦠love you too, Mom.ā
It doesnāt get any less weird from there. Not that his mother telling him she loves him is weird. But the sudden emotional outburst worries him. A lot of things worry him now.
But his mother seems to worry⦠less? In the days that follow, the tension eases from Melissaās shoulders, bit by bit. Her smiles are more relaxed, even when sheās tired after a shift. And sheās texting someone now. At first Scott doesnāt think anything of it. But the musical jingle of her text alerts become a common sound in the house.
Sheās met someone. That has to be it. Or sheās finally started dating Sheriff Stilinski?
He musters up the courage to ask Stiles about it, pushing past the tension thatās been hanging over them for months.
Things⦠havenāt been the same since they overcame the Dread Doctors, La Bete, and Theoās Pack. The asthma attacks, brought on by the Pathologist and wolfsbane, have finally stopped. But other things - they arenāt fixing themselves with time. His healing, especially. It doesnāt work as it should anymore. Heās healing, but heās not healing right. The flesh knits back together, the muscles and bone realign, but the pain never goes away. Scott can feel them with every breath, every movement. Like his body has been pulled taut, like heās stretched too thin.
Itās like sophomore year all over again - feeling wrong inside his own skin, like his new life is trying to drag him under. He worries about everything. About new threats to the territory. About his grades. About getting into UC Davis, about how to pay for UC Davis. About his Pack, if theyāll ever really be Pack again.
Scott and the others; things are never going to be the same between them ever again. They came together to defeat the Dread Doctors, but it didnāt magically fix their problems, or the fact that Scott failed them as an Alpha. Liam still radiates guilt and hurt, no matter what Scott tells him. Malia is still unsure of where she stands with him. Lydiaās distanced herself, though no one blames her for it at all.
He and Kira - well, they called it ātaking a break to put their lives back togetherā but it plays out a lot like being broken up. Scott still loves her. But the past six months (the past two years) have taught him the difference between loving someone and being in a place where a relationship can be healthy.
Stiles⦠theyāve worked out their differences in the short term, but things arenāt the same. Scott doubts theyāll ever be the same. Theyāve found themselves in the stage where theyāre walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around things that - Scott knows - they need to talk about. Both of them, it seems, are too afraid of losing each other again.But Scottās beginning to see hope with them; that maybe theyāve come out of this with a new understanding of one another that will make them stronger in the end.
Now if only they can get past the awkward part of their reconciliation.
About a month after coming home to his mother crying (and a few weeks after realizing it wasnāt the Sheriff sheās been texting) everyone starts acting⦠odd.
Look, the Pack has never been subtle. Around day two into conversations being hastily cut off when heās in earshot and the Pack steadfastly avoiding his gaze, Scott knows somethingās up. It doesnāt help his constantly growing anxiety any.
What happens is that Scott pushes it out of his mind in favor of other things - his schoolwork and his ever-present worry that the next threat is just around the corner and hiding the fact that every move he makes is a lesson in low, radiating pain.
What happens is that they make it to spring break without being attacked.
What happens is that Scott doesnāt even smell the āwolf ringing his doorbell until heās opening it, and finds Derek Hale standing on his front porch.
And Scott feels weightless, like the floor has opened up beneath him and heās suddenly in freefall. His expression must be ridiculous, because Derek smiles at him. He looks good. He looks happy, and not just in his smile. The flinty ice that had always been behind his eyes is gone. The tension he always carried with him is gone. Heās content, happy, softer. And Scott finds himself launching forward before the thought even finishes, flinging his arms around him before he can think better of it.
But he doesnāt have to worry about the hug being unwelcome. Because Derek only makes a soft, surprised sound and then hugs back, wrapping arms around him in a squeeze that makes his body ache. The momentary pain is worth it. Derek smells amazing, warm and welcoming, and Scottās ashamed to say he presses his nose into his shoulder and breathes it in. His mind whispers, āBeta. My Beta. Mineminemine.ā Itās like all of his more traitorous thoughts come true - no, itās even better in reality.
āWhat are you doing here?ā he asks in an excited rush, pulling away before he can do something stupid.
āIām here for you.ā
And, what.
Thereās no hiding the flutter of his heart. Derekās smile edges into predatory, because heās evil.
āGo pack your stuff.ā
āWhat?ā he blurts.
āYouāre going on vacation. Go pack for a week. Hiking, beach, and swimming.ā Derekās brows arch when he doesnāt move a muscle. āGo on.ā
āI canāt--huh?ā There are two more heartbeats in the foyer. Stiles has come downstairs and Melissa has wandered in from the office at some point. The sly smiles on both of their faces makes him pause. āYou⦠this is what you were planning?ā he asks incredulously, pointing at Derek. āThis is who youāve been texting for months?ā
āThis,ā Derek interjects, āis waiting for you to get going.ā
Scott ignores him in favor of gesturing at his mother. āI thought you were dating someone! Youāre⦠youāre not, right? I mean, if you were dating thatād be⦠but not Derek right?ā
āWhat? No!ā Melissa exclaims, and then cringes sheepishly at the man in the doorway. āNo offense, Derek.ā
āNone taken. Scott, go get your stuff.ā
But when Scott balks, and tries to protest, Stiles steps forward to grab his arm. āYup, heās on it,ā he says before Scott even has the chance to speak, āI started pulling some stuff down already.ā
āStiles--ā He wants to stop him, but itās the first time in so long that Stiles has touched him without reservation - without visibly stopping to weigh the chances. And heās wanted that, heās wanted that since before everything went wrong. So he lets Stiles pull him up the stairs and into his room. His duffle has already been thrown onto the bed, along with his swim trunks and some of his favorite pairs of jeans. Just seeing them makes something cold and sick turn over in his stomach. āI canāt leave.ā
Stiles stops listing all the things Scott will need to pack with an exaggerated sway. āWhat now?ā
āI canāt leave, Stiles. What if something happens? Itās been like eight months since everything happened, and--ā
āNo. Nope. Donāt go talking āregression to the meanā again, Scott. Not this time. Of all of us, you need a break from this place.ā
Scott wonders if he should be offended by that. āWhat do you mean āof all of usā?ā
āOkay fair, I mean none of us are exactly winning any prizes when it comes to dealing with trauma, but at least weāre finding ways to deal with it. You, buddy? Youāve been doing this internalizing, self-sacrificing thing since sophomore year. And donāt think we havenāt noticed. So youāre going to go off away from our lovely little Hellmouth for a week. Weāll call you if anything happens.ā
Scott huffs. āI donāt even need to listen to your heartbeat to know thatās a lie.ā
āTouche,ā Stiles admits, pointing at him. āBut youāre still going--ā
āYouāre going or Iām coming up there and dragging you out!ā Derek calls from downstairs. Actually shouts it instead of just speaking at a normal volume, so he means it to be heard by everyone.
ā--or Derekās going to manhandle you out into his soccer dad car.ā He waits for Scott to relent, and when Scott doesnāt say anything for a few moments, he sighs. āLook, I wasnāt going to tell you this yet, but while youāre gone, Lydia, Deaton, Mason, and I are going to research a way to control everyoneās favorite sentient tree stump. So that when we go off to college we wonāt have to worry about a supernatural disaster every other month. Okay? You can go and relax for a week. Youāve been trying to carry all the weight since this whole thing started. Let someone else have a turn for a while. Weāve got this.ā
āI⦠okay.ā
The admission seems to surprise his best friend, who was already gearing up for another argument. He blinks, and then grimaces. āAw, no, buddy donāt give me The Eyes.ā
Scott flushes. āHuh?ā
āThe Eyes. The sweet, āI donāt know why Iām getting nice thingsā eyes. I canāt handle that. Come on.ā He turns in a whirlwind of motion, a disgruntled sound coming out of his mouth. The back of his neck has flushed pink. Scott smiles gently, which doesnāt seem to soothe Stiles any. āOh, stop smiling and come help me pack for you! Just because this is a pamper Scott week does not mean youāre getting out of packing.ā
So Scott does, even though heās not quite sure what to think about this violent shift in his routine. He helps gather up his clothes and essentials, everything that can fit in his duffle bag. And as the minutes tick by, his anxiety shifts. It doesnāt fade, no, not really. But it feels lighter. A happy kind of anxiety, almost excitement.
āHere, just in case.ā
Scott catches the item Stiles tosses without thinking. And then nearly drops it when he realizes Stiles has just thrown him his box of condoms. āStiles!ā
āWhat?ā he asks cheekily. āThatās still a thing, right?ā
Scott regrets ever admitting that he finds Derek attractive. He contemplates throwing the box at Stilesā head when the other boy stashes his bottle of lube in the side pocket.
āJust in case~,ā Stiles repeats.
āNot gonna happen,ā Scott mutters. And this conversation needs to end now, before Derek can hear them. He zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at Stiles in warning before he leaves. He knows Stiles will follow him, and so he doesnāt wait to trudge back downstairs. He gets there just in time to hear Derek ask: āSo have things been better?ā
HIs motherās heart skips a beat. āOh god, you have no idea,ā she sighs happily. āDerek, I canāt thank you enough - no, really. Things have been getting worse for a long time and⦠and now itās like I can breathe again. And, well, having normal shifts is always nice. Youāve done so much for us, and now this with Scott--ā
āItās the least I could do,ā Derek tells her. Thereās a waver in his voice that sounds suspiciously flustered. āAfter everything--ā And then he stops, his heart rate ticking up for an instant. āScott, you ready to go?ā
ā...Yeah,ā Scott answers slowly. He turns into the foyer to see Derek and his mother waiting for him. Melissa has her āI have no idea what youāre talking aboutā face on, even though Scott hasnāt asked yet. And Derekā¦
The tips of his ears are pink. It is⦠hell, Scott didnāt even know what to do with the Derek that was all teeth and hard edges. How can he be expected to know how to handle this new, softer Derek, who wears soft looking henleys and lets his beard grow out until itās soft and frames his jaw and blushes adorably?
This is a disaster.
Scott hugs his mother goodbye, and avoids Stilesā pointed smirks on the way out. He follows Derek out to the car, questions on the tip of his tongue as they pile in. He waits, at least, until theyāre on the road to⦠wherever theyāre going, to speak up.
āWhat were you and my mom talking about?ā
Derek is suspiciously silent, only tightening his grip around the steering wheel. Scott doesnāt even let him come up with an evasion. Heās seen enough of Derekās āI donāt want to tell youā expression by this point.
āReally, dude? All of this and weāre back to keeping secrets?ā
The older manās eyes widen in genuine distress, and Scott almost feels bad about the accusation. āNo!ā Derek insists. āNo, itās not a secret. I just donāt know how to tell you without freaking you out.ā
āDerek⦠is someone dead?ā
ā...No.ā
āIs there some ancient evil headed for Beacon Hills?ā
āNo, Scott. Christ.ā
Scott gestures pointedly between them. āSo tell me. No oneās dying and no oneās coming to kill us. I canāt be that bad.ā
Derek heaves a sigh, and Scott watches the rise and fall of his chest closely. āIā¦ā Thereās a pause that does nothing to help Scottās nerves. āI gave your mom the money to pay off your house.ā
And Scott promptly chokes on his own breath. āWhat--ā
āAnd set up a college fund for you. Your tuition for Davis is paid for, all four years.ā
āWHAT?ā
Derek is starting to look unsure now, which, good, he should be. Because what the hell? āIf you want it, I mean. Itās there for you - you and all of the Pack. I offered it to Malia, Kira, Lydia, and Stiles too. Stiles is taking his,ā he hastens to say. As if thatās going to make any of this better. āMalia doesnāt want to go to college right now, but itāll be there if she ever decides to. Kira isnāt sure about it. And Lydia told me no. Soā¦ā
āGood!ā he yelps. āGood, she shouldnāt-- you shouldnāt be spending all of your money on us like that, Derek!ā
āItās⦠Peterās money, actually.ā
The rant that had been forming in Scottās head abruptly vanishes. āPeterās?ā he parrots.
āYeah. After he was put in Eichen House, I was put in charge of his assets. All of them, even the money he was getting from⦠some really nasty businesses, Scott. So I gave the rest of his 117 million to people heās hurt. You, the Pack, Isaac, Jackson, Argent, Satomi. Anything that was left, I invested. Anything that gets made off of that money will be put into an account for the Packās use. So when Liam and Mason - and Hayden, if she wants to stay - graduate, theyāll have money for college too.ā
āSo you stole all of Peterās money for us.ā And Scott shouldnāt feel as warm as he does at the idea. He really shouldnāt.
Derek shifts in the driverās seat. āNot all of it. Just his 117 million that he kept in the vault. Anything he was getting from elsewhere has been reinvested in more legal markets. So heāll have money to live off of that when he gets out of Eichen. If he gets out of Eichen.ā He glances at over at Scott, hesitant. Oddly⦠soft. Vulnerable. āWill you use the money for school?ā
Affection swells in his chest, so strong and sudden that Scott nearly leans over and kisses Derek right there. He has to clench his hands into fists, let his nails bite into his palms to stop himself, and hope that the older werewolf doesnāt notice the spike in his pulse or in his scent. āYeah, Iāll use it,ā he answers. His voice comes out strange. He hopes Derek doesnāt notice that either. āThank you. You didnāt have to do that. Or this - this⦠vacation, thing.ā
āYes, I did,ā Derek says earnestly. āFor you, I did.ā
Oh god.
Fuck everything. Scott canāt handle this. He canāt spend a week with this man.
Their destination turns out to be four hours south of Beacon Hills, and along the coast. They spend a good hour just driving along Route 1 with the shoreline on their right. It makes for amazing scenery, at least. But otherwise, Derek is frustratingly silent about where theyāre going, until they turn off into a town thatās not even half the size of Beacon Hills in the early afternoon. In fact, it appears to be five intersections, a main commercial and business district, and a two neighborhoods on either side of said district. Scott peers at the town as Derek drives through it, passing the more populated town center and heading towards the shore.
They pass through a densely wooded lane, and exit right into a hill, on which stands an old Victorian manor. It had to have been breathtaking, once. Itās still a beautiful home, with its spires and sprawling veranda. Scott can see a balcony along the steep edge of the hill, and stairs leading to the beach below But the house old, worn, and in clear need of repairs.
Thereās a Hale Triskele on one of the gate markers.
āDerekā¦ā
āThis was something like a summer home to my family,ā he replies, before Scott can even ask. āA place to be away from Beacon Hills. Thereās nothing supernaturally remarkable about this place at all. Thereās nothing to be protected, here. Itās just a town.ā Scottās heart is in his throat as they pull to a stop in front of the house. He climbs out of the car, wincing as his muscles protest his long hours in Derekās SUV. He stares up at the old house, and finds it oddly welcoming.
āSorry, itās notā¦ā Derek shrugs uselessly. āI had someone from the town come and clean out a few rooms, so itās livable. Enough for us for a week.ā
āNo, no, itās fine. Itās wonderful. Really!ā He shoulders his bag and follows Derek up the front steps. āIām just⦠wondering why you wanted to take me out here, is all? I mean, what are we going to do out here?ā
The manorās foyer is clean, even if the house does smell faintly stale and moldy. The light from the window above fills the room with sunbeams. But Derek, Derek actually looks embarrassed. His shoulders have hunched up, and heās having a hard time looking at Scott and⦠and he canāt handle this. Seriously. āI didnāt plan anything past getting you out of Beacon Hills,ā Derek admits. His pulse, however, flutters just a bit. Not exactly a lie, but hiding something. āMy family used to enjoy the forest and the beach. So you could, too? I can give you space if youād rather--ā
āNo! I want you here with me.ā He doesnāt register just how that sounds until the words are out of his mouth, and then he wants to shrink into the floor in horror. His face heats.
āOh,ā Derek says softly. And just kill Scott now, because Derek ducks his head just slightly, as if thatās going to hide the pleased little smile on his face. āAlright. Uh, Iāll show you where your room is.ā He beckons Scott up the stairs, saving Scott from making an even bigger fool of himself. āHis roomā turns out to be the master bedroom. He wants to protest, but the Beta makes it clear that heās going to hear none of that, and leaves to go unpack in his own room before Scott has the chance.
Derekās footsteps pad down the hall a ways, to the next bedroom. But after the door creaks open, thereās a pause, and a displeased hum. It makes Scott pause in unpacking (in stashing the damning box of condoms and the lube in the back of a drawer) to listen to him walk from room to room, opening doors as he goes.
When Scott is finished putting his things away, he finds Derek in the sitting room on the second floor landing. āYou didnāt pick a room?ā he asks, pointing at Derekās bag on the sofa. He worries, for a moment, that the memories of the house were too much for him. But Derek looks more embarrassed than distraught.
āUh, I think there was a misunderstanding with the woman I hired to clean out rooms,ā he says slowly. āIt looks like yours is the only bedroom that was cleaned out.ā He sighs, gesturing to the sofa. āI can clean out one for myself, but that will have to wait until tomorrow. Looks like Iāll be sleeping out here tonight.ā
āYou donāt have to do that,ā Scott pleads. āItās your house. I can sleep out here for a night.ā
āYouāre my guest, Scott. I canāt let you sleep on the couch. Iāll be comfortable out here.ā He doesnāt have to listen for the lie. The couch looks anything but comfortable. Itās clean, thanks to whoever Derek had prepping the house for them. But it looks like something out of the late 90s. High class late 90s furniture, but still something thatās over a decade old and has seen better days. And Scott doesnāt even have to ask to know that itāll be too small for Derekās frame.
āLookā¦ā The words die in his throat, however. What is he going to suggest? That they share the master bedroom? Probably, and oh, that makes his heart race. No, he canāt suggest that. No, this vacation so far has been one humiliating slip up after another.
This was supposed to be a crush. One thatās been fading in and out of Scottās existence for years. One that Scott was supposed to let fade back into friendship, which is something that seemed like a dream in those early days. Scott wasnāt supposed to miss Derek this much. To want to drink him in and never let go now that heās suddenly back. For only this week, probably.
āJust in case,ā Stiles had teased. But now in Scottās memory it sounds like āTake your chance before itās too late.ā
But Derek is watching him with a perplexed frown, and Scott loses all courage. āWeāll talk about it later?ā he finishes his thought weakly.
They end up going into town for groceries instead of arguing, so Scott is saved from making a fool out of himself again. The little town has exactly two grocery stores - a Wal-Mart just outside of town, and a little grocer thatās probably been there as long as the town has. He isnāt surprised at all when Derek takes him to the latter, with only a mumbled explanation that his family always went to this store when they visited.
The bored looking 20-something behind the counter perks up when they walk in, peering unashamedly at them. āWelcome to Rifeās Market,ā they chirp. And even after Scott waves back, they donāt turn away. Their eyes track his and Derekās movement across the store.
āUm,ā he mutters to Derek once they duck down an aisle.
Derek sighs, but says nothing. He doesnāt really need to when they both can clearly hear the cashier slipping into the back room and announcing āI think Derek Hale just got here! And his friend is with him,ā in a pseudo whisper.
Derek tips his head towards the ceiling, as if asking it for strength. Scott bites his lip to keep from laughing at him. āYou canāt go anywhere, can you?ā he teases.
āWeāre from Beacon Hills. You know how it is. The whole town will know in half an hour.ā
āAre you like a celebrity here to get recognized so fast?ā
āNo, this is just--ā
āDerek Hale, is that you?ā Thereās an older, dark-skinned woman bearing down on them from other end of the aisle, bounding towards them with surprising grace. She heads straight for Derek, enveloping him in a bear hug without hesitation. Scottās mouth falls open in shock as he watches. Barring the single, impulsive embrace theyād shared just this morning, Scottās never even considered other people showing Derek casual affection. But Derek doesnāt shy away, though he looks a bit uncomfortable.
āMissus Rife,ā Derek greets.
The woman tsks and interrupts him. āShonda, sweetheart. No Missus Rife from you.ā And Derek somehow manages to give off an air of squirming even as he stays still. āHow are you? Did you just get in?ā
āWe stopped up at the house to drop off our things. Thanks for clearing out the rooms for us,ā Derek replies, a little stiffly.
āOh, it was no trouble. I had Lonna and Harley to help us. Put their young legs to work! It was worth it, too, to see you back in my store. We never thought weād see you again after what happened.ā She seems to know when sheās hit a tender subject, at least, because instead of letting it descend into awkward silence she refocuses. On Scott. āIs this your friend, Derek?ā
Scott⦠really isnāt sure about the inflection in that. And oh, oh god, this is why only one bedroom was cleaned out. āUm.ā
āShonda, this is Scott McCallā¦ā
She offers her hand, which Scott hesitantly takes. Itās hard not to feel meek when sheās practically leering at him. āItās good to meet you, Scott McCall,ā she says smoothly, but thereās a sly knowing to her words that makes his face heat. āIāve been so excited to meet the young man whoās snared Derekās heart. The way he went on--ā
āWeāre not--ā both Derek and Scott blurt simultaneously. Derek shoots him a panicked look.
āShonda, Scott has a--ā
āAnd Derek has--ā
āBoys,ā the older woman placates, āitās alright. Thereās no need to panic, now. Weāre all very happy for you. And you seem like a lovely young man, Scott.ā
āUm. Thank you?ā Scott glances timidly at Derek, whoās staring resolutely at the shelves behind Shonda, his face growing steadily redder.
From there they are properly escorted around the store for their shopping list by the bustling woman, intent on seeing that their every need is met. They donāt make any further attempts to correct her misconception. The doting, knowing looks she keeps giving them squashes any desire to speak up.
Itās not until theyāre packing the groceries into the car that Scott dares to say something. āYou knowā¦ā he pipes up, āIām not actually with⦠Kira and I split up?ā
Derek freezes, grocery bag in hand. āYou did?ā he asks softly.
āYeah. After everything that happened, we just⦠we wanted to get our lives back together. So we agreed to split up. Take some time. Maybe see other people, if we wanted?ā
āOh.ā The other man frowns thoughtfully. āAnd youāre happy with it?ā
āYeah, I guess. I love her still. But things werenāt great, and I didnāt want to end up hurting her with my bullshit. She has enough on her plate already.ā
Derek looks at him sharply as he says it, his lips pursing as if he wants to say something. āBraeden and I arenāt exclusive either,ā he admits after a few moments, which makes Scottās heart leap in a way it shouldnāt. āSheās still going after the Desert Wolf, and sheās not going to stop until itās over. It might never be over. And Iām⦠Iām ready to settle down.ā
āSettle down? Like getting married and having kids settling down?ā
That brings a smile to the Betaās face. Scottās eyes drop down to his mouth and quickly away, before heās noticed. āMaybe not that far yet. But a home is a good place to start. And maybe someone to share it with.ā
āThatās⦠thatās good, man. Iām happy for you.ā
Derekās eyes catch his, soft and grateful, and Scott tries not to think about just how much he wants to be that person in that instant.
The use the rest of the day as best they can. Derek takes him out into the forest, far off any beaten path. They canāt sense anyone for miles, so Derek strips down (while Scott resolutely does not look), stuffs his clothes into a drawstring bag, and shifts into the wolf. Scott hooks the bag over his shoulders and relaxes into his his own shift, with Derek gently wagging his tail at his side.
They go running through the woods, Derek a dark, fast shape zipping between the trees ahead of him. They take turns chasing each other, challenging one another in low growls. And one they catch one another they go sliding along the forest floor, snapping playfully and wrestling. Derek ends up grabbing him by the waistband of his jeans and shaking him off balance, before Scott pounces on him. It hurts - just like everything hurts for Scott nowadays. But he wonāt stand for Derekās concerned whines whenever a movement makes his entire body throb painfully, and only redoubles his efforts.
They donāt stop until they no longer have the energy to move. Until theyāre sprawled in the dirt with Derekās head resting on Scottās stomach. God, itās sweet. Itās too sweet and everything hurts, but Scott wouldnāt exchange this for anything. He throws caution to the wind and cards his fingers through Derekās soft, dark fur. And Derek⦠lets him. Even relaxes into him.
The sun is setting by the time Derek finally moves. He leaves Scott prone on the ground, padding over to their bag, which had been tossed carelessly away during their playfighting. Scott listens to him walk out of view and shift back, and tries not to think too hard about what Derek looks like naked. (Not that he has to imagine much. Heās already seen him naked once, after Mexico. It⦠It may have featured in some of his more exciting fantasies since then.)
(...That isnāt something Scott should be thinking about right now.)
His phone saves him from his thoughts, buzzing in his back pocket. They mustāve gone close enough to the town, if he still has signal. He drags it from his pocket with a wince, his body protesting every twist.
So howās operation āGive Scott McCall a blowjob and a day off from Beacon Hillsā going?
Sore body be damned, Scott shoots upright, reading Stilesā message over and over again as if it will somehow magically turn into something different.
UM.
The pause before Stiles responds might as well be an eternity with how fast his heart is suddenly racing.
SHIT WRONG PERSON FUCK FORGET YOU SAW ANYTHING.
Heās three words into his reply when Derek comes dashing back into sight. āScott?ā his question comes out panicked, voice raised as if he were expecting a threat. But when he sees Scott sitting on the ground, his brows furrow. Scott doesnāt want to think about what he looks like. His face feels like itās on fire. āWhat happened?ā
Words fail him, so instead of a proper explanation he just gestures dumbly at his phone, eyes wide. āStiles,ā he says. āO-Operation āGive Scott Mc--āā Thankfully, he doesnāt have to actually say it. Thatās all it takes for Derekās face to go bright red.
Neither of them speaks for while.
āStiles, he⦠heās being a little shit,ā Derek mutters. āMaking bad jokes. Heās been doing it for weeks.ā
ā...Oh.ā His heart sinks. Stupid. Stupid. He shouldnāt be disappointed over something as silly as this. Of course itās Stiles making off color jokes. āHe does that, yeah.ā Derekās looking at him funny again, and Scott clears his throat to make up for the silence. āSo are you ready to head back?ā He pulls himself to his feet so fast that the pain is like a lightning strike down his spine. He sways, only to have Derek steady him with hand to his elbow.
The other werewolf has better control than Scott does to not reflexively take his pain right there. Heās always had better control.
The walk back to the house is⦠awkward, to say the least. Dinner isnāt much better, even if they both pretend everythingās fine.
By the time theyāre getting ready for bed, Scott despairs that heās ruined the entire vacation with his stupidity.
āWhat else is new?ā
Derek still insists on attempting to sleep on the couch. Scott peers at him from the hall as he arranges a pillow and blanket on the too small, too cramped sofa. No matter what Scott has tried, Derek refuses to take the bed.
Which, really, leaves Scott with one other option - one that makes his palms go sweaty and his body shake with nerves. But Derek senses him before he can gather the courage to approach, cocking his head back. Scott knows heās listening to his heartbeat. Maybe gauging his mood through his scent. āScott?ā he asks softly, turning to look at him. āThere something you want to ask?ā
Fuck, heās so dead. Derek knows, he has to. āUh, I⦠justā¦ā Miserable and frustrated and far too sore to deal with this, Scott just goes for it. āWe can share the bed, Derek. You donāt have to-- Iām-- Iād like if you did.ā
And now heās being stared at in disbelief, Derekās brows drawn low over his eyes and his mouth dropping open. As if that hadnāt been what Derek was expecting him to ask and Scott wants to crawl into a hole and die. It would be less mortifying than this. Heās just contemplating an escape when something passes over Derekās face. His head tilts, eyes drifting over him, intent. Thereās something⦠Scott canāt name it, but it makes his body tingle all over. His mouth goes dry.
āOkay,ā Derek murmurs. He raises a finger. āOn one condition.ā
Scottās throat clicks as he swallows around the lump in his throat. āYeah?ā
The other āwolf holds out a hand. Scott stares at it until Derekās fingers twitch, beckoning. āGive me your hand,ā Derek tells him. His stomach sinks, and his elation goes with it as surely as a balloon stuck with a pin. He reflexively tries to hide his hands, which doesnāt make him look innocent in the slightest. Derek raises a knowing brow at him. āCome on, Scott.ā
Heās been caught, and outright refusing or denying it will just start a fight. Another pointless fight in the long string of them in their friendship and Scott is so tired. So he sighs, eyes downcast, and shuffles forward to reluctantly place his hand in Derekās. Whatever joy heād have at holding Derekās hand is overcast by the guilt, the dread, when Derekās veins flow black, and the pain ebbs with it.
Derekās eyes widen, and Scott jerks his hand away. āSorry,ā he mutters quickly.
āScottā¦ā Derek breathes harshly. He can practically hear the clench of his jaw around his name. āAre youā¦ā Scott fights not to flinch away when Derek steps closer. āHow long has it been like this?ā
He shrugs. āA while. Itās not that bad.ā
āNot that--ā The man takes a slow breath, like heās gathering his strength. āScott, you shouldnāt be in pain. Is it all the time?ā
His silence is damning enough.
āOkay⦠okay. Come on.ā A hand grasps Scottās arm, but the pain isnāt taken from him again. Heās guided into the master bedroom and Scott tries not to let the more traitorous thoughts take hold. About how good it feels for Derek to touch him. Or about them sleeping in the same bed. Derek climbs right in, movements purposeful, and he stares Scott down until he follows suit. Even hiding his wince as he climbs in doesnāt seem to do any good.
Whatās left is them awkwardly sitting up in bed for a few moments. The only thing in the silence is the steady, sure beat of Derekās heart and (Scottās sure) the nervous flutter of his own.
And then Derek is pulling him down, keeping a hand on Scottās shoulder as he fluffs the pillows and arranges the covers. All Scott can do is watch him, dreading whatās going to come. Are they going to have a Talk? Oh god, Scott doesnāt think they can handle that. He canāt take Derek being earnest and concerned at him.
The slow fade of pain makes him want to struggle again. āNo,ā he pleads, pulling his arm away from Derekās black-veined hand.
Derek huffs in reproach. āScott.ā
āI donāt need that, okay?ā But he does. He does, he does. Those few brief moments of painless existence were like heaven. Scott had almost forgotten what that was like, to not hurt every minute of the fucking day. āYou donāt need to take my pain, Derek.ā
āYouāre hurting.ā
āIām the Alpha,ā Scott exclaims, āI can handle a little pain! I can take more than you can--ā
āDo not tell me how much pain I can take, Scott.ā The edge in Derekās voice has his mouth snapping shut; has his heart withering in his chest. āYou know better than that.ā An apology springs to Scottās lips, but Derekās expression softens before he can say it. The hand at his arm rubs in gentle circles. āYou donāt have to take all this,ā he amends, āAlpha or not. You couldāve asked.ā
But he couldnāt have. He canāt, Scott wants to say. He canāt. Even now the words lodge in his throat. He canāt give someone his pain. Itās his fault, his to bear, his to carry. He canāt shove that onto anyone. It builds in him, these words, until it feels like theyāre suffocating him. Until itās hard to breathe.
āLet me help,ā Derek says, practically begs.
āI donāt want to hurt you,ā Scott whispers.
āYou wonāt. I wonāt take it all.ā He waits, at least, until Scott relents, hand unmoving on Scottās arm. And when Scott forces himself to let out the breath heās been holding and nods, Derek scoots closer. Close enough that he has to move his legs to give Derek room. The touches start slow, working soothing circles up his bicep to his shoulder. Over his back, down his spine and back up. It should feel awkward. Itās not quite a massage, and not quite cuddling, but itās intimate and every few seconds Derek saps away some of the pain. At first, Scott watches him closely, ready to pull away at the slightest flinch. But the Betaās expression stays soft, attentive.
Theyāre drifting closer, Scott realizes with a belated jolt. And in the second before his heart skips a beat, heās being pulled into Derekās arms completely. Heās being cradled up against that warm, firm body with a hand securely around his waist and another drifting up the back of his neck and into his hair. Scottās face is pressed in the crook of Derekās neck and all he can smell is the warm, earthy scent of his Beta around him and he melts. Just lets go and relaxes in Derekās embrace as he cards fingers through his hair.
The painās fading faster than Scott knows how to deal with. It feels foreign. Like he can finally breathe again and itās too sharp, too much. āDerek,ā he calls, voice wavering. The other āwolf is taking too much. He has to be taking too much.
āItās alright,ā Derek comforts. āThatās not me. Thatās you. Youāre healing, a little.ā
Scott squirms, unsure what to do now that every movement doesnāt throb. āH-Huh?ā
āTouch helps. Physical comfort can help the healing process, if itās someone we trust,ā Derek explains. Scott wants to call him on it, remembers saying something similar to an injured woman - what seems like eons ago. But Derek isnāt lying. His voice, so close in Scottās ear, is steady, and so is his heartbeat. Fuck, he can feel Derekās pulse against his face, theyāre so close. āYouāve been keeping everyone at a distance, not letting yourself heal properly. You donāt have to.ā
How can Scott protest that, when heās wrapped up in warmth and comfort? When this is all heās wanted since seeing Derek again? Since before Derek left. (For years, if heās honest with himself.) His hands don't know what to do with themselves, fingers flexing in the fabric of Derekās tank top, reveling in how painless it is. Thereās a new tension building, and Scott doesnāt realize what it is until Derek stills.
Oh.
The warm, shivery tingling sensation isn't just from affection and warmth. And thereās no way Derek can't smell the gently burning arousal coming off him, not this close. And Scott isn't sure if he wants to curl closer, to hide, to act, or to run as far as his legs will carry him.
āSorry,ā he mumbles.
But heās not pushed away. Derekās hold shifts, handing settling at the curve of his jaw, holding him still as he leans back enough and oh, oh, kissing him so gently. Scott trembles, unable to do anything but gasp and clench his hands in Derekās shirt, as if Derek will just disappear if he lets go. The kiss is gentle but itās anything but chaste, the slick slide of lips and the mingling of breaths between them. Itās only when Derekās pulling away that Scott thinks to do something, to press forward and get one good open-mouthed kiss in before he loses his chance.
They just gaze at one another once the kiss is broken. Derek looks⦠patient. Like he knows that this has just turned Scottās world on its head.
āThat wasn't....ā He pauses to wet lips. They tingle, feel swollen. āThat wasn't a part of the uh⦠physical comfort thing, right?ā He does feel better after the kiss - he feels great. But that has less to do with pain and more to do with the elation rushing through his veins.
Derek stares flatly at him, but it loses its effect when his eyes are sparkling and his mouth is shiny and pink.
āI had to ask?ā He placates. The urge to kiss him again is too much, and Scott leans closer, hesitating just enough to give Derek a chance to change his mind, before kissing him. Slower, sweeter this time. It feels like heās flying. The next gaze they share is broken by Scottās soft laughter. āSo⦠about operation āGive Scott McCall a blowjob and a day off?ā he jokes.
Derekās grin is lazy, predatory. āAsk me again in the morning.ā