#sterekwritersnetwork

For every new episode of Teen Wolf this season, I am going to to an installment of FBI Stiles and his Werewolf Informant Derek. To make up for what is bound to be a trainwreck to my favourite characters.

A bit of info:

So the lovely @withmyteeth posted this 

with FBI Stiles going with to meet a scary informant for a touch supernatural case. Only for Stiles to start SHOUTING in surprise that it’s a certain leather-clad, angry-eyebrowed werewolf. 

Cue confused partner and cliche and wonderful bantering and bickering a la Sterek style.

And because the Sterek fandom has EXPLODED in excitement since the release of the 6B trailer, and we all know that Jeff and Co. aren’t even gonna begin to do Sterek justice, I want to do this fic to make up for our lack of deserving Sterek content.

Stiles wants to thank Rafe a thousand times over and he wants to throw him in the nearest pit of hell for all the shit he's had to put up with since he was offered the ability to work with the FBI. Sure, he was used to skirting the law, hell it felt weird when he WASN'T. But this was the FBI for fuck's sake. And okay, there were a lot of people involved in the application process, and things easily could be lost or messed up, but on the chance that he got found out, Stiles could go to prison. Guantanamo Bay at this point, for all the things he'd seen on FBI time.

Not to mention all the people that he'd come in contact since he got his official FBI badge. Would he drag every one of them down with him too?

Okay, okay. So maybe he could convince the big guys in charge that it was all on Rafe for this? He was the one who said he could help Stiles in to the FBI. He never said it would involve ILLEGALLY entering the agency without the usual four years of college, the strenuous background check, and security clearance.  

Well, the security clearance was a work in progress. Even just the basic clearance takes about 60 days and he'd only just been in DC for a month. He may have been given the account info of his superior so he can access the more top-secret databases. (Top Secret clearance can take up to 9 months, and there were important baddies Stiles had to help catch. Legal channel could wait, apparently.)  

For the background check, god, the favors Rafe must have had to use to interview Stiles' neighbors and practically everyone in Beacon Hills about him, and NOT make him sound like a psychopath or serial killer … The FBI personnel file on Mieczyslaw "Stiles" Stilinski was wrapped in blackmail, secrets, lies, and NDAs of all involved so that Stiles looked as wonderful and sought-after as possible.  

On paper, he was the well-behaved son of the Beacon Hill's sheriff. Glowing school record; salutatorian, right below Lydia Martin, of course; edited compliments from Finstock (the original of which Stiles found and vowed to frame in the future). Every interview of neighbors and acquaintances (especially nosy Mrs. Carson) were nice and normal. Comments from the staff at Sarah's Café was void of any mention of supernatural events or odd mentions of him having bruises constantly and blood always showing up on his clothes when he'd show up at their diner at ridiculous hours of the night. He looked so stellar, Stiles didn't know if anyone would believe he was the same person as his file.

*     *     *     *     *

By the time Stiles was leaving Beacon Hills after the Ghost Riders disaster, Rafe had already begun processing Stiles' FBI application. (He still thought about finding someone to complain to and demand recompense for his pain from that nightmare)

Sometimes Stiles had to stop asking questions, because the whole goddamn town was a disappearing act for three months before he left. That almost definitely meant that Rafe had people working on him getting in to the FBI for a while.  

Thankfully Scott's dad had realised that there were things that went bump in the night and the rag-tag group of teenagers and Derek were actually trying to fight off those creatures.  So it was only slightly surprising that Stiles was offered to work with agents on the more supernatural cases. Stiles may have tried to ask about the X Files division a bit to enthusiastically as soon as Rafe told him the news.  

It was actually quite a quick thing, because one minute Team Good Guys finally defeated the Big Bad of the Month (the semester, really at this point), and the next Stiles was told there was a spot at the FBI waiting for him if he wanted it. It was really only after Stiles was packing up the most helpful magic books and clothes that weren't flannel and screen tees, did Rafe decide to mention that bringing Stiles on as an agent involved all kinds of illegal actions. Yet, because of unexplainable and gruesome crimes reaching dangerous levels and Stiles' extensive experience, the people in charge of "It's Not the X Files, Stiles" Totally the X Files were willing to do whatever it took so Stiles could work for them.

*     *     *     *     *

After a decent flight and barely a second of reprieve in the almost swanky hotel room, all paid for by the lovely people at the FBI, thank all the deities that shine upon him, Stiles had to report to some random business building to meet the people in charge of his fate.

He had another X Files joke on the tip of his tongue the moment he entered the right room, but was instead intimidated in to sitting down in the nearest chair by the angriest, buffest guy in a suit he'd ever seen.  Perhaps he had a history in the military, maybe a bodybuilder. Definite possibility of both.

"I have been fully briefed on you Mr. Stilinski," the man glowered at him. Well, that was DEFINITELY not a good sign. Stiles' eyes went comically wide in concern and slight fear.  

"Yes, I do mean fully." The man showed no signs of letting Stiles speak any time soon. "Agent McCall has used resources in extreme measures to help get you here, and my people speak very highly of you. I have seen what you can do." Stiles began to open his mouth to respond, but the man didn't allow him. "My people have our ways. As soon as Agent McCall found our office and informed us that all unexplained events had not only been explained but handled by you and your friends, we began doing what we could to keep an eye on you. You aren't the easiest group to keep track of."

Despite the importance of the situation, Stiles was already getting distracted by his surroundings, specifically the stacks and stacks of papers covering the handful of tables that filled the room. It was a pavlovian response of sorts; whenever his father had case files strewn across the dining room table, he did whatever it took to get as much info as he could when his dad wasn't looking. So being surrounded by manila folders, envelopes, and the occasional photo peeking out of the papers, they were all just calling his name to be looked at.  

He had started running his hands across the papers the moment he sat down, but he was about to reach for one of the files, when he thought better of it. "Can I..." he thought twice about waving a folder in the guy's face. "If these are above my clearance, this is severe cruelty to my curiosity," Stiles flailed his arms in the general direction of the mountains of paper.  

"Technically everything you do and see here will be above your security clearance." The man looked both smug and severe at this, which only made Stiles want to mentally swear louder. "The legal aspects of your work will be handled by me and the rest of the team. You will be officially documented as an intern with us, but will act with the capacity of a fully-fledged agent."  

Stiles spluttered in surprise. "You actually trust me with that much power? Didn't you just say you were fully briefed about me?"

"With the amount of cases and depth of research you will have to go through to solve them, you'll want all the resources available to you."

"Hey Giles!" A voice started from the hallway, getting closer to the room. "You even tell the kid what our division is, or are were you planning on shrouding us in a shadow mystery for a few more hours?" Someone with frazzled hair poked their head in to the doorway, eyes quickly narrowing in mock annoyance at Giles (if that actually turned out to be his name, Stiles might have to rethink his life choices. And maybe sharpen a stake or two.) "You know we got a shit ton of cases to solve by the Winter Solstice so if you could hurry this up, that'd be great." The door quickly opened the rest of the way, and they more or less swooshed in to the room, now clearly panting. And maybe smoking a bit? Yep, there were definitely singe marks and wisps of smoke throughout their clothes.

They quickly walked over to Stiles and patted his shoulder. "Actually no, scratch that. There's a dragon manifesting itself in the relics library and the ghost of Hannibal haunting my ass, so I'm gonna steal our illegally acquired prodigy here and get to work on saving the day. You know where the timer is, I'm trying to beat my personal best of the week." Trying to keep track of what was happening, Stiles hadn't realized he was being whisked away by the crazy scientist type agent.  

Halfway out the door, as his brain restarted, Stiles halted. "Wait, what are you timing? Are we saving the day or working on your lap time?"  

Scientist Agent smiled so brightly as they answered. "I'm trying to beat my personal best. Current winner is when I stopped the rise of zombie Hitler, a coven of witches planning on killing all readheads – no really, they were close, I was a bit slow on that one, and solved an argument between two different culture's angels of death. In between breakfast and lunch."

God, okay. What kind of lives do these agents have? "That must have been quite the morning," Stiles eyes couldn't get wide enough. Maybe he could pick the team's brains for their adventures and knowledge on different creatures. Good thing he had a copy of the bestiary encrypted and hidden in his suitcase. If he could just ask a few questions about the crazier days, he'd probably put the whole Hale library to shame, he'd have to find a larger file system to hold it all, he could...

"What? No. Just a slightly shorter morning. That was just last week. And I've been trying to get as fast as the rest of the team. I'm one of the slower ones when it comes to saving the day. That's why I've got the timer."

Shit. What kind of abilities did Rafe think Stiles had? They know he's human, right? And this division of supernatural crime fighters expected him to what, be able to do what they couldn't do?  

The smell of smoke was getting stronger, and yep, he just heard a lion sized roar blended with the sound of paper rippling.  

"You know how to calm down book dragons, right? This one's in a rarer dialect of Arthurian Welsh, and whatever monk copied this did a really bad job. But it shouldn't take too long. God, you're lucky today's apocalypse is so easy."

Oh fuck.

(A/N): Sorry for the late posting, had some terrible car troubles. I should have this up on AO3 soon. Check back for new updates on this as 6B continues 

“You make me so happy.”

Derek can’t help it. He can’t help but smile whenever Stiles is around. Their constant back and forth with the insults has become more fond then a way to show each other how much they dislike each other.

His pack has started to notice. Erica will smirk and wink at Stiles, making him blush and will have private conversations with Derek about his feelings for Stiles. Which he has. Strongly.

Isaac is the one to fill Scott in because he can also sense Derek’s random spikes of happiness when Stiles is in the apartment. 

Boyd keeps it to himself, but he always pats Derek’s shoulder when Derek watches Stiles leave for the night. Tells him that he should go for it. Stiles feels the same way.

Cora always makes sure Derek is next to Stiles on the sofa, pulling Stiles to a seat and sitting beside him, moving when Derek comes in and Cora slinks off to Lydia. Stiles just blushes and pats the seat for Derek to sit down.

The whole pack knows Derek likes Stiles and that the feelings are mutual for Stiles. Derek even knows.

But Derek still has that voice in the back of his head, the one that tells him Stiles deserves better. That Derek doesn’t belong with Stiles. The voice always sounds like Gerard Argent. That one night has always plagued him. 

It’s when Stiles and Derek are alone, something that happens regularly now, when everything changes. Stiles will come in from work, tired and asks if he can crash on the sofa because Derek’s apartment is closer to work and fifteen hour shifts always knacker him out.

Derek just nods and drapes a blanket over Stiles when he falls asleep.

This time though Derek knows Stiles hasn’t been working today. This time Stiles walks into the loft and straight up to Derek.

Derek is glued to the spot, stood still in the middle of his room, between his sofa and bed. He was just about to tuck in for the night. 

Stiles walks up to him, stops a few feet away and takes a deep breath. “We need to talk.” He says, letting it out all in one breath. His fingers are playing with the hems of his sleeves. A nervous tick that Derek sees often.

“Okay.”

Stiles nods and steps forward slightly. “The pack were at mine tonight. They told me that if I hurt you or break your heart, then they’ll kill me and they’ll do it the most painful way possible.”

Derek gulps and in his mind he makes a note to make training extremely difficult on them tomorrow. 

“I mean, that is the kind of thing you do when two people are dating. Your friends threaten them to never hurt you. And they threatened me. I mean, that makes me wonder why they think we’re dating.”

Derek bites at his lower lip. He’s thankful that Stiles stays quiet as he thinks. Stiles has been doing that a lot lately. It’s Derek’s turn to take a deep breath. He might as well admit it. Stiles is old enough to make his own choices. If he wants nothing to do with Derek then fine. Derek will sulk for a few weeks, but he’ll get over it. The voice in the back of his mind will help with that. But Derek can’t just admit to Stiles that he’s falling in love. That would be sure to scare him away. He looks at Stiles, making sure Stiles is looking his way when he finally lets out. “You make me so happy, Stiles.”

Derek can hear Stiles’ sharp intake of breath. Can hear his heart start to race. Knows what Derek is saying without him actually needing to admit it. That’s the main thing he likes about Stiles, they know each other so well that Stiles can pick apart at what he’s saying, know the real words he wants to express underneath.

Stiles closes the distance between them, hesitantly resting his hands, palms flat, against his chest as he leans in. Their lips are barely touching, but Derek’s heartbeat has finally matched Stiles and he’s sure Stiles can feel it beneath his hands. 

“Can I?” Stiles asks and Derek nods, knows what he’s asking for as his eyes move to look at his lips. Stiles swipes his tongue over the bottom one and Derek chases it, leans in and presses his lips against Stiles.

Stiles sinks into Derek’s chest, pressing back, their lips moving in such a tender way that Derek aches. His hands find his way to Stiles hips, squeezing softly as he returns the kiss.

I’m so so sorry to hear about that! To try and cheer you, I wrote some apartment!sterek :) feel better, my love!

Stiles fumbles with the doorknob at first buteventually he steps into his new apartment with a huge grin. “Man, this placeisn’t tiny!” His last apartment, down in the middle of town, was tiny and atleast two-hundred years old, but this one is completely new and doesn’t haveseeping walls and an odd smell. In fact, everything smells new. Derek must belosing his mind.

Speaking of Derek, the door slams open behindStiles and the walls shudder when the knob hits the painted surface with a dullthump. He’s carrying at least four boxes and Stiles can’t even see his face,but he’s sure that it looks pissed off, as always. Stiles thinks it’s his faultfor insisting on making as little trips as possible.

The couch is already in there, and there’senough room for a good amount more.

“This isn’t a big place,” Derek remarks, losinghis grip on the bottom box and adjusting his grip with a heavy huff. He setsall of them amongst the large pile on the floor. “It’s still a shoebox.”

“Yeah, but it’s better, kind of shoebox, likegoing from Walmart brand to Adidas; more expensive and kind of cooler!” Stileslays on the couch and watches Derek’s muscles working as he moves some boxesout of the way. He’s sweating straight through his t-shirt and his face is sportinga red blush. Moving even gets to werewolves, apparently. But Stiles is beyondexcited that they’re doing this despite the pain in the ass that moving is;this place is going to be theirs. Derek is used to living in the loftwith no ceiling at all (Stiles thinks he got the upgrade there) and the onlyfurniture being a couch, a table, and a bed.

Derek raises an eyebrow his way when Stilesstarts to whistle a slow tune, deep in thought.

“Oh, don’t mind me at all,” Stiles comments. Hefeels sweaty and gross too, and feels like he at least deserves a break, or awater, but all of those are still in the truck. Derek sighs and takes anothertrip, returning with three more boxes, larger ones this time. This time when hesets them down he puts his hands on his hips and looks at the piles.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

Stiles chuckled. “You know, for someone withsuperhuman powers, you’re awfully lazy.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Coming from you. All youcarried was the box of photos, and that weighed a collective five pounds.”

“Shut it, the weight of your big head added afew hundred,” With a gesturing motion, he widens the space between hislegs, opens his arms. Derek shuts the door and stalks over to him, falling downinto the space Stiles had made, snuffling into his neck then sighing. Stilesdrags a hand down the slope of Derek’s spine and marvels in the grumble hemakes in return.

“This place is nice,” Derek mumbles.  

Stiles’s face breaks out in a sarcastic grin. “Avery nice shoebox.” That earns him a slap to the thigh and a kiss on thelower arch of his neck. Derek’s head moves up and Stiles meets his mouthimmediately. The hand on Stiles’s thigh moves up and down slowly as they kissand Stiles starts to curl his leg around Derek’s ankle before he pulls back.

“There’s gotta be a joke in there aboutChristening some stuff in here,” Stiles laughs.