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“Oh my god, I love you Scott, but if you go up there again, I’m getting a divorce!” Malia protested, grabbing her husband’s hand, and forcing him back down into his chair. “Jackson, go again! Please?!”
The rest of the pack echoed her pleas, and the handsome werewolf gave in almost immediately, glowing with pleasure at their approval. Stiles might not like Jackson very much, but he had to admit the asshole could sing. Andalmost anything was better than listening to his best friend’s god awful screeching.
“You guys are mean,” Scott pouted while Jackson ran to pick out a song.
“We’re just trying to save our ears from bleeding,” Stiles replied, grinning at the alpha.
“Not all of us have supernatural healing abilities,” Corey...sweet, quiet Corey chimed in, drawing hoots and howls of laughter from the others. His boyfriend, Mason, looked like he was going to literally explode with pride, but he settled for kissing his almost painfully shy partner on the cheek.
“You’re one to talk,” Scott said, addressing Stiles scornfully. He glanced sideways at Corey as he said it, giving Stiles a look that said he was thrilled the younger man had joined in the teasing, even if he was the target. “You can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” he added, keeping up the banter.
“And you don’t see me going up there, and torturing everyone, do you?” Stiles shot back, shrugging carelessly. “It’s okay to admit your limits, Scotty,” he said, patting him on the back in mock condescension.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Stiles?” Lydia joked, pretending to squint suspiciously at him. “Stiles Stilinski never admits failure!”
“Hey, I was the one who admitted we weren’t working,” he reminded her quietly, then winced when a hush suddenly settled over the table. He was about to apologize for joking about their breakup (despite the fact it had happened a few years ago, and he thought everyone was over it). He certainly was. Then, he realized that his (possibly) tasteless joke wasn’t why everyone had gone silent.
“Hi, guys!” Braeden exclaimed, waving cheerfully as she approached the cluster of tables the pack had pushed together in the corner of the karaoke bar they’d all but taken over. It was two days before Christmas, and apparently most people had better things to do than get drunk, and try to destroy their friends’ eardrums. The bounty hunter was wearing her usual tight, black leather ensemble, but had a bright, friendly smile on her face...in sharp contrast to the man behind her, who looked like he was going to throw up.
After greeting them, the rest of the pack turned to look expectantly at Stiles, who forced himself to mumble, “Hi, Braeden...” Taking a deep breath, he added, “Derek,” though he couldn’t bring himself to look the other man in the eyes. He’d known that the former alpha was coming...it was a pack gathering, after all, and Derek was pack. He’d thought maybe he could handle seeing him, but realized now that it was far too soon to see him with Braeden after what had happened before the last pack meeting, three days earlier.
It was so surreal to think that until just three days ago, Stiles had thought there was something between the former alpha and himself. No, scratch that, he knew there was something between them...something that had slowly developed from the unexpectedly close friendship that had grown between them over the last few years. Neither of them had acknowledged it aloud, yet, but even Stiles (who was told he tended to be oblivious to others’ attraction to him) couldn’t deny that the lingering looks, and not-so accidental touches every time he and Derek were in the same room over the last several months meant something . He’d finally worked up the courage to talk to the older man about it when he’d arrived early for the last pack meeting, walked into Derek’s house...the rebuilt Hale house that Stiles himself had helped (more than anyone else in the pack) to design, build, and then decorate. He’d followed the sound of soft Christmas music into the kitchen, where he found Derek standing near the marble topped island (marble Stiles had picked out), wrapped in a tight embrace with Braeden, whom Stiles hadn’t even known was back in town.
His stomach had dropped somewhere to the vicinity of his toes, and his heart clenched painfully at the sight, but Stiles hadn’t said a word. He’d just turned on the spot, and left as quietly as possible. He still hadn’t said anything about what he’d seen to anyone. He’d texted Scott that night, saying that he was feeling sick (which wasn’t really a lie). He’d heard from Lydia, later, that the group had planned this karaoke night, and that attendance was mandatory. He’d been idly contemplating moving to Alaska, or maybe Siberia, to get out of it, but Scott, Malia and Lydia had shown up at his house, and literally dragged him here tonight. They’d told him that he was being ridiculous, since they wouldn’t force him to sing...but that was easy for them to say, because they didn’t know what he had seen.
Judging by the strange looks on most of their faces, they might be aware that something was up, though. He was sure, if they knew how close he’d come to humiliating himself, that they would have shown at least a little hostility toward Braeden. However, most of his friends looked like they were rather amused, and maybe a bit too excited over the prospect of an evening of ear drum torture. Scott was practically vibrating with the effort to hold something back, and the rest of the group seemed practically giddy. Everyone, that is, except for the source of Stiles’ personal misery, who seemed to be turning paler by the second, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, drawing attention to the fact that he was wearing the soft, dark red thumbhole sweater Stiles had always thought made the werewolf almost impossibly more adorable.
“How’s it going, Derek?” Scott asked, smirking rather evilly at the older werewolf. Malia elbowed him sharply in the ribs, causing him to grunt in pain, but it did nothing to remove the gleeful expression on the alpha’s face.
“Fine,” Derek ground out, frowning at him before briefly... very briefly...glancing at Stiles, and immediately dropping his gaze to his hands. He moved to sit in the empty seat beside Malia, but his cousin swung her leg out to block him.
“Oh no. You’re going next,” she announced, smiling sweetly at him, gesturing toward the stage. “Best to get it over with.”
“‘Lia...” he sighed, his coloring beginning to turn from deathly pale as he developed a splotchy smudge of pink across his cheekbones and ears. “I don’t think I can...”
“No one’s paying you to think, hot stuff,” Braeden declared, patting him on the back before plopping down in the vacant chair. Malia inexplicably allowed this, even sharing a knowing, distinctly amused look with the bounty hunter when Derek let out a low whine.
Stiles stared at them in confusion, then glanced over at Lydia, to see if she had any insight into their friends’ bizarre behavior. To his surprise, he found her staring at him with a soft, slightly teary expression on her face. His stomach clenched when he realized that she must have figured out what he’d seen...that she knew Derek and Braeden were together now, and how much it was killing him . “I...I don’t feel so hot. I don’t think I’m over that stomach bug I had a few days ago...I’m gonna go...” he muttered, twisting in his seat to grab his jacket.
“No!” Several voices rang out at once, so Stiles couldn’t really decipher who had objected to him leaving. All that registered was that Derek was now staring at him with an expression of sheer panic, his mouth hanging open slightly as he shot anxious glances at Malia, Lydia, and then Braeden before settling back on Stiles, his eyes wide. He continued to stare at Stiles for several seconds before taking a deep breath, and murmuring, “Stay?”
Stiles opened his mouth to respond, (he honestly wasn’t sure how), when he noticed that Braeden was smiling very flirtatiously at one of the bartenders on the other side of the room. His eyes narrowed, rage filling him that the woman who had won over Derek...simply waltzed back into his life after being gone for literally years , and snatched him up with seemingly zero effort...was so unappreciative of what she had as to flirt with someone else right in front of him . “I really feel like I’m gonna hurl,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“One song,” Lydia stated firmly, leaning across the table, and nodding her head emphatically. He absently noted that Jordan and Liam, on either side of her, nodded as well. “Stay for one more song. I promise you won’t regret it.” Her tone made it clear she would brook no opposition, and when Stiles nodded reluctantly, she glanced sharply at Derek. “Well? Go!” she ordered, making shooing motions.
Derek swallowed visibly, nodded, and then, wobbling slightly, headed over to the host, who was waiting to help people select which song they wanted to sing. Stiles hadn’t even noticed that Jackson was giving what was probably a fabulous rendition of “All I want for Christmas,” but Stiles hadn’t heard a word of it until just now. Jackson wrapped up his performance, to thunderous applause (as thundrous as it could be from only a couple dozen people), just moments after Stiles saw Derek point at the screen in front of him, and nod at the host. After seeming to hesitate a moment, Derek leaned closer, and said something to the man, who turned to look at their table, meeting Stiles’ gaze for a brief moment before turning back to Derek. The host said something, which made the splotch of pink on the werewolf’s cheeks darken and spread; visible even in the dim lighting of the booth. After patting Derek encouragingly on the shoulder, the man bent toward the mic in front of him, announcing, “Up next, we have Derek, who would like to dedicate this song to a very special person who’s here tonight. You know who you are...”
After Jackson finally returned to the table, plopping down into his seat, and kissing Ethan on the cheek, Derek slowly made his way to the middle of the low stage. Looking more than ever like he was going to vomit, he picked up the mic, his hand trembling badly enough for even Stiles’s human vision to make out from across the room.
“He’s going to choke,” Jackson predicted. When Stiles turned to shoot him a glare, he realized that the former jock wasn’t mocking the older werewolf, he meant it literally. The blond looked sincerely worried, and with good reason, since a quick glance back at the stage showed that Derek was now turning an alarming shade of red.
“Breath!” Lydia yelled, rising from her seat, and catching Derek’s gaze. She took several deep, exaggerated breaths, until he appeared to follow her instructions, taking a breath or two, and closing his eyes.
“You’ve got this, Der!” Stiles glanced at Braeden, rolling his eyes a bit when she gave Derek an enthusiastic thumbs up sign. Then, she yelled. “Go get ‘im!” Confused by this, Stiles looked back at Lydia, and found her staring intently at the stage, her elbows propped on the table in front of her, fingers on both hands crossed, as she seemed to be trying to will Derek to do something other than stand there.
It seemed to work, because after taking another, slower, deeper breath, Derek opened his eyes, and nodded at the host; a second later the opening bars of an unfamiliar song began to play. Derek kept his gaze locked on the mic, and his voice shook slightly as he sang, “I go a little crazy sometimes. Can you believe it?” Stiles snorted quietly to himself at the veracity of the lyrics. As much as he didn’t want to to watch the man he’d fallen in love with serenade someone else, he found himself entranced as Derek continued, his voice becoming steadier, richer...
“Yeah, I swear I'm fine, that I'm alright,
When I'm barely breathing.
Thought I could find my way back home,
but I get lost alone..”
Having gotten lost in the sound of Derek’s remarkably pleasant singing voice, Stiles jumped a bit when the werewolf suddenly raised his eyes, directing his gaze at their table, flashing a quick, sheepish grin at someone at the other end of the table...probably Braeden, Stiles realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Then, Derek’s eyes snapped directly to Stiles. His smile softened slightly, his eyebrows creasing in the way Stiles knew they did when he was especially nervous about something. His attention stayed focused on Stiles as he picked up the chorus,
“But when I'm with you, I'm no longer wandering.
And when I'm with you, I swear I can breathe.
When I'm with you, I know who I am, and who I want to be...”
Someone poked Stiles in the ribs, and he blinked, tearing his gaze away from the stage just long enough to see Scott giving him an expectant, rather impatient look. “What?” he snapped at his friend, not waiting for an answer before looking back at Derek, who was definitely staring intently at him, an almost longing expression on his face that Stiles had never seen before, while he stood there clutching the mic in his hand like a lifeline.
“Oh my god, you’re an idiot, Stiles,” Lydia declared loudly.
Obviously having heard her, Derek chuckled softly into the mic, nodding at her. He then shrugged somewhat apologetically at Stiles before continuing.
“I'm not trying to be dramatic, no.
Most times I'm pretty normal...”
Stiles snorted again, but felt himself grinning despite his abject confusion about whatever was going on...and then Derek winked at him, singing,
“Oh, but let's be clear and honest here,
And do away with anything formal.
I can fake it on my own, but I am lost alone...”
Stiles was beginning to wonder if Derek was secretly a songwriter, and had somehow slipped a recording of his own work to the host. He glanced over at the booth, and then noticed Braeden standing at the bar, which was just beyond it, leaning over to talk to the bartender he’d seen her flirting with earlier. His heart jumped, and he looked back at Derek, shocked by her callousness. Derek must have heard his heart skip even over the loud music, because he glanced toward the bar, then looked back at Stiles, giving him a questioning look. A moment later, it was almost like Stiles could literally see a light bulb going on, because his expression suddenly morphed into mild shock. Laughing quietly into the mic, he shook his head dismissively. Pointing directly at Stiles, he sang, more loudly than before,
“But when I'm with you, Stiles !” he jabbed his finger more firmly toward Stiles, eliciting excited squeals and whooping from the other members of the pack, who almost drowned out the rest of the chorus. Stiles stared at him, his heart rate skyrocketing as the realization that Derek was not singing to Braeden finally sunk in.
“I'm no longer wandering,
And when I'm with you, I swear I can breathe.
When I'm with you, I know who I am,
And who I want to be,
Who I want to be,” Derek crooned into the mic, his gaze growing more heated, a slow smirk spreading across his face as he finished the second chorus.
“Me?” Stiles asked breathlessly, pointing at himself during the brief pause that followed. Receiving an emphatic nod, and an eyebrow wiggle that did odd things to his stomach, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and laughed giddily. “Oh my god...”
“Idiot,” Lydia muttered affectionately, while Scott patted him on the back so enthusiastically he almost knocked him off his chair. Stiles was too stunned and elated to even care who the redhead was referring to.
“Shhhh!” he hissed over his shoulder when Derek raised the mic again. His demand was met by scattered snorts, and snickers, but he couldn’t care less because Derek was singing again.
“I am wide-eyed,
With a penchant for running-” Stiles rolled his eyes at this.
“But how many times does it take 'til I find that I'm lost when I'm alone?
And that's not where I belong,” Derek shook his head as he finished the verse. Lowering the mic, he murmured something the mic didn’t pick up, apparently directed at Scott.
“You thought he was with Braeden ?” Scott blurted suddenly, smacking Stiles hard on the back of the head, and staring at him like he’d grown a second one.
“Well, yeah. I saw them hugging the other night, and I thought...you know...” Stiles admitted, embarrassed by his mistake.
Derek muttered something at Scott, and shook his head in obvious exasperation, though he smiled warmly at Stiles as he started to sing the chorus again.
“Cause when I'm with you I'm no longer wandering,
When I'm with you I can finally breathe,
When I'm with you, I swear to God,
I swear to God I'm who I want to be...”
“What did he say?” Stiles whispered to Scott when he didn’t pass along the older werewolf’s comment.
“Oh, he agreed that you’re an idiot,” Scott informed him with obvious amusement.
Stiles grunted his objection to this, but Derek just smiled, and winked at him again, and Stiles found himself incapable of feeling any real resentment over the comment. “Fine, but he’s the idiot who’s serenading this idiot,” he pointed out, deliberately licking his lips, and smirking at Derek, who seemed to lose all interest in the fact that the song wasn’t quite over. Shoving the mic back into its stand, he walked off the low stage as the music continued to play, despite a half-hearted, laughing protest from the host, who was grinning madly. Stiles jumped to his feet, nearly tripping over the leg of Scott’s chair as he lurched forward to meet him.
“How could you think I wanted to be with her?” Derek asked, grasping him by the hips, and pulling him closer. “I-I love you .”
“I don’t know, I saw you hugging her, and I just thought-” Stiles began, resting his own hands on Derek’s shoulders as he moved even closer.
“I had just told her I was planning to ask you out, and asked her for advice on how to do it,” Derek explained, sighing softly. “She was just saying she was happy for me. For us . Idiot,” he murmured fondly, cupping Stiles jaw, and stroking his cheek with his thumb.
“Okay, fine,” Stiles agreed, chuckling softly as he slipped one hand to the back of Derek’s neck, running his fingers through the short, silky hairs there like he’d been wanting to for months. “I’m an idiot.”
Derek grinned, and leaned forward, rubbing their noses together affectionately. “My idiot?” he asked, pulling his head back slightly to offer a sweet, almost shy smile.
Stiles heart leapt in his chest, and he found himself literally breathless. “I’d have to be a special kind of stupid to say no after all that,” he murmured, gesturing vaguely toward the stage before lightly pressing his lips to Derek’s. The werewolf let out a soft groan, and surged forward, deepening the kiss. Stiles had, of course, imagined kissing him many, many times, but had never quite imagined Derek being as enthusiastic as he now proved to be. After nibbling lightly on Stiles’ lower lip (was that a hint of fang?) he licked it teasingly until Stiles moaned, and allowed his tongue to slip inside. Derek growled softly, and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, bringing their torsos closer together. He’d just begun what seemed to be a very determined mission to explore every bit of Stiles’ mouth, when they were interrupted by the very loud clearing of someone’s throat. Stiles tried to move away, but Derek simply growled again, a bit louder this time, and tightened his grip.
“Gentlemen,” Lydia stated, her voice dripping with amusement. “Perhaps you ought to take this somewhere else?”
“Yeah, we’re happy for you and all, but...ewww,” Scott chimed in.
“Oh, leave them alone, it’s kind of hot...” Ethan said, chuckling.
That’s what finally prompted Derek to break the kiss, pulling his head back just far enough to direct a glare at the other former Alpha. “Fuck you, Ethan.”
“I think your boyfriend would object,” Ethan replied, smirking wickedly. “But if he’s okay with it...” he said, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly.
“Oh my god, gross,” Stiles muttered, having finally caught his breath. Grabbing Derek’s hands before he could use them to separate Ethan from his head, he tugged him toward his seat. Seeing that there were still no other empty seats, he just pulled the werewolf into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist to keep him from slipping. Once upon a time, they would have looked ridiculous, but since Stiles had filled out quite a bit since high school, and Derek had stopped working out as obsessively as he used to, they were about the same size now, and it felt perfectly comfortable to sit this way. More than comfortable. Sighing happily, he tilted his head so he could nuzzle at Derek’s neck. “That was so amazing. What was that song? It was like you could have written it. Did you write it?” He was aware that he was babbling, but he was too overwhelmed to even attempt to calm himself down yet.
“It was Laura’s favorite,” Derek murmured, turning in place so he was facing Stiles more directly, and wrapping his arms around his neck. “It seemed fitting,” he chuckled softly before leaning down for a sweet, lingering kiss. When they finally separated to breath, he mumbled, “I can’t believe you thought I would do that to you...” Stiles tilted his head questioningly, his brain a bit too wrecked to figure out what he was talking about. “Braeden. Seriously? We’ve practically been dating for at least three months now, Stiles. How could you think I would...”
“I think it’s been thoroughly established that I am an idiot, Der,” Stiles murmured, shrugging meekly. “I didn’t really think you would...I mean, it’s been more like six months,” Derek nodded, smiling fondly at him, and Stiles continued, “I trust you , I just don’t really trust her , I guess. She can be pretty...aggressive, and I was just so shocked...” sighing, and running his hand through Derek’s hair, he said, “I guess I didn’t really think about it. I know you wouldn’t let her push you into anything, and...I’m really sorry. I overreacted,” he sighed, nuzzling into Derek’s neck again.
“You should be sorry,” Derek grumbled, making Stiles’ heart skip nervously. When he raised his head to look at him, he found the werewolf smirking at him. “If you’d been there the other night, I would have just pulled you into the kitchen after the meeting, and asked you to be my boyfriend. But you weren’t there, and in your absence, these lunatics got it in their head that I needed to make a big romantic gesture, thus landing us here...” he waved his hand vaguely toward the stage.
Stiles bit his lip, and gazed up at the ceiling, pretending to think. “Um, so you mean if I’d just stayed for the meeting, I wouldn’t have been serenaded by literally the hottest person I have ever met, in front of all my friends, and a bunch of strangers?” he asked in a tone of mock dismay. “Tragic!”
“Whatever,” Derek shook his head, grinning slightly. “You also wouldn’t have had to listen to Scott butchering ‘Uptown Funk,’” he pointed out, shuddering. “We could hear him from the parking lot. Waited to come inside until he was done...”
Stiles snorted out a laugh, pressing his forehead to Derek’s shoulder. “Still worth it,” he told him, turning his head to press a series of soft kisses up his neck to behind his ear.
“Totally worth it,” Derek agreed, shifting so that they could kiss again, this one a bit more heated than their previous kisses. Stiles happily lost himself in finding out exactly what he could do to make Derek let out these soft little moans that really did things to Stiles’ heart rate, and were making him start to worry about the situation in his jeans. Suddenly, Derek went totally still, pulling away abruptly, and looking toward the stage. “Holy shit, is that Corey ?!” he blurted.
Stiles would have been a bit more offended that his new boyfriend was so easily distracted from making out with him, but when he realized that the soft voice, beautifully crooning Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” was, in fact, coming from timid little Corey, his jaw dropped. A quick glance at the rest of the pack showed that even Mason was stunned by the astonishing revelation that the unassuming were-chameleon (they’d decided a while back that this was the simplest designation for whatever the chimera was) could sing like an angel. The group watched in mutual astonishment as Corey proceeded to blow the minds of nearly everyone in the room (judging by the expressions of the patrons at the other tables, even they were surprised on some level by his performance). He finished the song to a brief silence, in which he began to look like he might literally vanish into the background from embarrassment. Fortunately, before he could resort to this in front of a bunch of strangers, the room exploded in applause that exceeded the cheering Jackson had received earlier. The normally narcissistic werewolf didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by this fact though, cheerfully clapping Corey on the back as soon as he was within reach.
Derek stood to offer the younger man his own congratulations after Mason had enthusiastically embraced his boyfriend. “That was awesome! You definitely outdid my thing,” he told him, grinning.
Corey glanced at Stiles, then grinned back at Derek. “I don’t think mine had quite the same impact...” he murmured diffidently.
“Oh, baby, it totally did,” Mason interjected, grabbing him by the shoulders to pull him into a heated kiss that quickly had everyone looking away in embarrassment.
Derek glanced down at Stiles, then offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet. “You wanna get out of here?” he asked quietly. “I’ve, uh, got the house to myself tonight.”
Stiles, who knew that Hayden and Liam were staying at the unofficial “pack house,” over winter break, raised an eyebrow suspiciously at this news. “Just how much planning did you all do for this evening?” he asked, teasingly.
“Shut up,” Derek chuckled, blushing. “You can always stay in your room if it’s too soo-” he began, referring to the guest room (one of many) that Stiles had claimed in the large house.
“Yeah, I think I’m giving up my claim on that room,” Stiles cut him off, shaking his head slightly as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around his waist. “It’s a little on the small side, and since I’m moving in after graduation...” he murmured, giving in to the urge to nuzzle against Derek’s neck again.
“You are,” Derek murmured, kissing the side of his head. It wasn’t a question. “I guess I could share mine with you...it is the biggest,” he mumbled, trying to act put out, but then hissing when Stiles gently bit down on the side of his neck. “Oh my god, can we just go home now?” he blurted, his voice cracking.
Pulling away, Stiles’ noticed Derek eyes were shining with unshed tears as he stared at him with the same longing look he’d had on stage. Suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed himself by the realization that months of...okay, he could admit he had been pining...were finally over, he swallowed thickly, and pulled him into a hug, trying to pour everything he was feeling...love, happiness, relief into it. “Let’s go home,” he whispered, nodding happily.