Chapter Text
The thing is, Derek didn’t do parties. He didn’t.
But then Laura helped him set everything up (“it’s got to be a masquerade party, Der, those are the best kind”) and insisted he come not just for her, but for charity, and what kind of person would say no to charity? Derek wasn’t a terrible person. Sure, he didn’t like people or crowds, but he could suck it up for a few hours. A masquerade party couldn’t be that bad.
It was that bad.
Derek had gone through four glasses of champagne, even though he couldn’t get drunk, and it had only been an hour. He didn’t think he’d make it through the rest of the night. Not without clawing his eyes out.
Growling, he finished his fifth glass and started to search for another waiter. Only, Derek didn’t make it three feet before a tall, lithe figure was running into his chest and champagne was spilling down the front of his suit. Derek snarled, stumbling backward, and the offender gasped, pinwheeling back too.
“Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so sorry! I smelled fancy cheese and wasn’t looking where I was going, and oh my god, you’re the sponsor of this party thing. I’m so dead.”
Derek looked up— and froze.
The guy before him was startlingly pale, with moles dotting his skin and a fitted black suit that outlined his entire frame. He wore a mask the color of rust, with eyes slitted like a fox’s and a nose curled out around his cheekbones. His scent flooded Derek’s nose; like that of autumn and vanilla, with an addition of nervousness. The guy was unfairly attractive and Derek was at a loss for words.
“I’d totally offer to pay for your suit, but I think that’d have me out on streets,” the guy said, grabbing a napkin from a passing waiter and stepping forward. He dabbed at Derek’s chest nervously, even though that didn’t do much. Derek continued to stare as the amber eyes peered carefully up. “I’m Stiles, by the way, if you want to press charges or something. I don’t know what rich people do when less rich people spill alcohol on them.”
“I’m not going to press charges,” Derek said, startling himself. Stiles looked relieved, stepping back with his napkins. His scent turned less sour and more warm.
“Thank god, really? I guess I owe you then, dude. I mean— Derek, Derek Hale, right? Can I call you Derek? Or Hale? Mr. Hale?”
“Mr. Hale was my father,” Derek said, surprisingly himself again. Stiles looked startled, then barked a laugh, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I’d be uncomfortable if someone called me Mr. Stilinksi too, which is my last name, by the way. And yes, I do know how unfortunate Stiles Stilinski is, though my first name is something far more horrendous.”
Derek smiled slightly, which made Stiles’ grin stretch even wider. He glanced around, then leaned in mysteriously, warm breaths making Derek’s skin tingle.
“I wasn’t even invited to this party, by the way. Totally snuck in with my friend, Scott. Though he abandoned ship the moment his girlfriend texted, which I’m kinda used to that at this point. It’s his loss anyway, the food here is great. Way better than the frozen pizzas we keep in the fridge.”
“You’re here alone?” Derek asked. Stiles looked surprised for a moment, before grinning, a small glint taking to his eyes. He licked his lips and shrugged.
“At the moment, yes.”
“So, you’re not waiting for anyone?”
“I could be,” Stiles said, his auburn eyes flaring behind the mask again. Derek was surprised to feel shivers at the expression, watching Stiles lick his lips again. “If I was waiting for the right guy, that is.”
Derek’s throat went dry. Because yeah, this wasn’t the first time he’d been hit on, but Stiles’s flirting was doing something to him that others usually didn’t. Derek glanced around the party before making his decision, grabbing Stiles’s hand and pulling him out of the crowded room. Stiles made a noise of excitement as the air went quiet around them, and Derek led him further down the hall. He didn’t even know what he was doing— this wasn’t something he normally did. But dam, this guy was addicting.
“You’re not wearing a mask,” Stiles said, breathless as they stopped. Derek smirked and shrugged, wanting to reach out and trace the one Stiles wore. But he restrained himself.
“I didn’t want to come to this party in the first place.”
“Dude, really? But it’s been so epic! I swear, I’ve spotted more celebrities tonight than I have in all my dreams. And my dreams have the weirdest minds of their own.”
“It’s nothing new,” Derek said with a shrug. He was well aware of how that sounded, but it was the truth. He was more than used to these types of parties, to the point where they got tiring rather than fun. “The people are always the same, the conversation is always boring. Not to mention the crowds,” he made a face. “They’re the worst.”
“Well, don’t you sound like a people person,” Stiles teased. Derek flushed.
“Not usually, no.”
“But we’re out here alone, away from everyone else, and I’m pretty sure we’ve never met before.” Stiles’s eyes danced. “So either I’m doing something right, or you’ve had too much to drink tonight, Mr. Hale.”
“It’s definitely the first option,” Derek said with a small laugh. Stiles bit his lower lip.
“Oh? Well, I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”
Derek suddenly felt anxious at the obvious invitation. He leaned back a little and Stiles looked surprised, but Derek quickly covered up the reaction with a smirk. “Have you ever toured around a mansion before?”
“Is that an invitation to stay? Because like I said earlier, I don’t actually have one into this party.”
“It could be,” Derek said, turning away. “If the rest of tonight goes well.”
He heard Stiles’s heart audibly leap and grinned to himself. The guy hurried after him and Derek decided to start upstairs first. He’d never actually done anything like this before. Since the fire, Laura had always been overly protective of their things, and didn’t like people snooping in on their personal lives. Despite the parties, she was a pretty private person. And Derek, well… Derek considered himself to have followed in her footsteps.
“You know,” Stiles said as he looked around. “I’m willing to bet my apartment is smaller than all of your broom closets. Scott and I share, though it’s still pretty small. Thankfully, he spends most his time at Allison’s house. That’s his girlfriend, by the way. He promised to stay at the party with me all tonight, but then Allision called… and one thing led to another.”
“How did you hear about this party?”
Stiles shrugged, though his heartbeat accelerated at the question. Derek thought that was odd, but shrugged it off as nerves. “I know a guy.”
His heartbeat didn’t skip at that. Derek relaxed again. “And sneaking in was really that easy?”
“Oh, don’t bother with your security,” Stiles said with a laugh. “I’m good at stuff like sneaking. Consider it a born skill. Not something they can teach at college.”
Derek shot him a curious glance. But Stiles only grinned and wiggled his fingers, mouthing ‘magic’ before bursting into laughter. Derek chuckled too, even though that hit a little close to home. Thankfully, they finally came over the last stair of the top floor, and Stiles’ eyes widened as he gazed around.
“Woah, dude, your house is gigantic.”
Derek shifted, slightly uncomfortable at that. The insurance pull after the fire had been more than enough for him, Laura, Peter, and Cora to live comfortably, but Derek still hated thinking about why; that their entire fortune had been made off their family’s deaths. Because Derek had made a mistake and it’d cost so much more than he was willing to pay.
Stiles seemed to noticed his change of mood, because his amber eyes softened. The guy reached over, fingers ghosting across Derek’s shoulder, and he offered a small smile. “Hey, man, do you want to show me your treasure room? Which better exist, because I’m gonna be super disappointed if the famous Hales don’t have a treasure room.”
They actually did. Though Derek hadn’t gone in there in years and it contained all of his family’s most treasured possessions, not money. Still, Stiles looked hopeful, and Derek felt himself deflating.
“Come on, then. Only this once, though.”
Stiles cheered and followed. Once more, the guy’s heartbeat was excited, and Derek assumed it was because he’d never seen a treasury before. Not like many people had.
The room was just like Derek remembered it. The Triskele symbol on the floor in the middle, dim lights flickering overhead. Derek knew Laura kept the room as clean as possible, so everything was shining. Stiles gravitated over to his mother’s claws first, a sight which struck Derek with a pang. Stiles tilted his head, staring at them.
“Those are neat.”
“I’m not even sure what they’re from,” Derek lied. “Only that they’ve been in the family for years.”
Stiles made a noise of interest, wandering to the copper Triskele next. Derek followed, but didn’t comment on it, and soon Stiles was moving again. They wandered through the entire room, before coming to the last glass compartment. One that held a silver ring, complete with a shining blue gem.
“That was my mother’s,” Derek said. He couldn’t get anything else out, throat too tight. Stiles only nodded, eyes fixed on the piece of jewelry. Then, after a long moment, he tore his gaze away and they left the room together.
“So,” Stiles said, fidgeting with his mask. Derek raised a brow and the guy blushed. “That was neat.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean, I don’t usually get house tours of all the parties that I break into,” Stiles grinned. “So consider me impressed. And slightly flattered?”
Derek smirked, stepping forward. “You should be.”
Stiles’s heartbeat picked up. Derek traced his fingers over the edges of the mask and just managed to slip it off, when Stiles’s phone was ringing. Stiles pulled back and fished it from his pocket, and Derek tried not to feel too disappointed when he turned away. Stiles narrowed his eyes at the screen, then made a noise in the back of his throat. His scent changed again.
“Is everything alright?” Derek asked. The guy swung back toward him, eyes panicked, before quickly schooling the expression with a tight, half-smiling one.
“Yeah, I just—” Stiles’ heart skipped. “I just need to go. Family emergency.”
Derek opened his mouth, but the guy was brushing past him before he could say a word. His scent had definitely changed; it was sour again. But Stiles was gone before Derek could even wonder why.
Derek stood in the empty hall, the faint sound of music making the floor tremble, and tried not to feel too hurt. Stiles’s mask hung loosely in his fingers and Derek rubbed an unconscious thumb over it, staring at the space Stiles had occupied. Something must have come up, he told himself, though that didn’t make the rejection feel any better. He’d heard the lie in Stiles’s heart. Right before he’d gone back to smelling… off.
Shaking his head, Derek started back down the hall. Something must have come up, he repeated again. And maybe, one day, he’d see Stiles again. Whatever his real name even was.
But Derek didn’t feel like returning back to the party. Instead, he spent the rest of the night drinking champagne, looking at the mask in his hands, and wondering. He thought he smelled Stiles’s scent again at one point, but brushed it off. His nose was playing tricks on him.
Derek didn’t hear the treasury door upstairs open again. Or the sound of shattering glass. And before anyone could, the area was empty again.
And down at the party, the music continued to play.