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Stiles opened the front door and peeked out, holding his breath. The coast looked clear so he darted forward down the porch steps and towards the jeep. Only a few more steps and he’d be home free. A small black blur shot up his side, howling it’s displeasure and claws digging their way through his layers.
He swung in a frantic circle, hands scrabbling at the furious ball of claws until he managed to grab a non spiky part of it. He flung it away from him and he turned to make a dash to his jeep. The demon furball moved too quickly for him—with a death curdling yowl it flung itself onto his back, climbing to his shoulders.
“Dude! Seriously! It’s not my fault!”
He reached behind his head to grab it only for tiny teeth to fasten to his hand.
“Ow! Fuck!”
“What the fuck?”
Salvation! He spun towards the other voice and his heart dropped.
“What are you doing here?” He spat out, forgetting his furry attachment for a moment in his ire at the presence of Jackson.
The monster rumbled, climbing up his back and shoved a wet nose in his ear. He screeched, grabbing at it again but claws slashed at the reaching hand.
“What did I do to deserve this?” He fell to the ground. “Jackson, promise me you’ll say something nice at my funeral. Tell everyone I fought until the bitter end.”
“You are a fucking moron.” Jackson stood over him, shaking his head. “Unfucking believable, only you would get your ass handed to you by the tiniest cat imaginable.”
“Excuse me,” Stiles huffed, sitting up straight then slouching back at the hiss the monster made. “this is not a mere cat! This is a demon sent straight from the pits of hell to torment me for the rest of my very short life.”
“What.”
“Oh you of little faith! This creature terrorizes me day and night for no reason at all!”
The demon bit his ear. He shot up and yelped, slapping ineffectually at the evil thing. Jackson wrinkled his nose, staring down at them in deepening confusion.
“Why does it smell like Derek is here?”
The cat screeched and launched itself at Jackson who caught it, his eyes widening to an almost comical level.
“What the ever loving fuck? Is this cat Derek?!”
“No.”
“Stiles!”
“Maybe.”
“Mie—“
“Okay! Yes! It’s Derek!”
He buried his head in his hands and ignored the angry hiss from Derek.
“Let me guess, you were experimenting on a spell.”
He glared at Jackson, folding his arms. “That’s rather judgmental of you. Maybe I saved Derek's life from evil witches who were about to sacrifice him to the Nemeton.”
“Uh huh. Derek, what do you have to say about that version of events?”
Derek yowled and leapt at Stiles off Jackson's shoulder. He scrambled up and booked it towards the jeep again. This time a hand on his hoodie stopped him.
“Nope, this is too perfect. Tell me what happened and why you haven’t fixed it or I’m calling Lydia.”
“Jackson!” He wailed, struggling against the hold on his hoodie. Maybe if he wriggled enough the hoodie would slip off and he could get away. Derek put an end to the glimmer of hope by landing on his head and digging in with all claws out.
“Fine, fine, I’ll tell! Just let go, please…”
He fell onto his knees, catching Derek as he slid over his shoulder. Derek merted and grumpily curled up in his arms as he sulked his way to a sitting position on the ground.
“There were totally evil witches though, I’m not lying about that.” Derek’s claws dug into his arm and he wilted. “But I may have been in the woods where Derek told me not to go because of the evil witches and he followed me because he’s a total stalker with faith in me—”
“Shocker.” Jackson muttered, rolling his eyes.
“—and the witches may have tried to cast some sort of spell on me and Derek may have jumped in front of it and then may have turned into a black demon fur monster. Ow! Fine! A cat! Derek’s a cat and it’s not my fault!”
“How do you fix it?”
Stiles flopped onto his back and Derek started to kneed his chest with tiny sharp pin-pricks of doom. “I don’t know, I grabbed Derek and ran away.”
“Did you not call or talk to anyone?” Jackson nudged him in the side, causing Derek to hiss a warning. Jackson ignored it and kicked him harder. Derek wrapped around Jackson’s bare leg and sunk in with all four paws and teeth.
“Fuck! What the fuck!”
“Yeah, dude, don’t ignore the hiss.”
Jackson managed to flail around until Derek let go and sauntered back over to lay on Stiles’ chest. Stiles sighed and threw an arm over his face.
“I talked to everyone! Deaton, Morell, my dad, Scott, Malia, Kira, Noshiko, even Peter!”
“And? Hey, what about Lydia?”
“Lydia is in the middle of her dissertation, if I interrupt that she will murder me worse than witches ever would.”
“Fine, well, what did Deaton say?” Jackson leaned against the jeep, glaring down at Derek. Derek ignored him and started to clean between his toes.
“He said spells of changing on a werewolf always have a time limit. We just have to wait.”
Jackson huffed, spreading his arms out. “Then what was the whole fight I walked in on?”
“Because this little demon broke my dad’s favorite coffee mug and dad said I couldn’t let him back in the house so he’s been sulking outside and won’t stay with anyone else so he attacks me out of his pure evilness.”
Derek looked up from his toe washing and hissed. Jackson’s eyes narrowed and he pulled out his phone, tapping away at it for a few minutes while Stiles resigned himself to his fate as a cat’s scratching post.
“Have you tried kissing him?”
“WHAT?”
Stiles and Derek both leapt to their feet with varying degrees of success. Stiles ended up tangled in his shoelaces and the grass and fell back over while Derek avoided his falling body and promptly crawled on top of his head.
“Yeah, like in all the stories. True love’s kiss and all that bullshit.”
“I don’t—” He started to say in tune with Derek’s yowl but Jackson cut them both off.
“You’re both idiots and yes, you both do. Now kiss the cat or I’m calling Lydia.”
Stiles stared down at the small poof of black fur in his lap and slowly picked him up. Derek poofed up larger and a low rumbling growl reverberated out of his chest.
“Okay, if you don’t want me to do this then bite my finger.”
Somehow Derek’s cat eyebrows sent over a deep disgust of that suggestion.
“Well, here goes nothing then.”
Fully expecting to get clawed in the eyes, he leaned forward, pursed his lips and gently pressed them to the cat’s mouth. A sudden weight made him fall back and hit the ground. He yelped but the sound was muffled by the very warm and wet lips now covering his own. His eyes flew open to see a very human shaped and very naked, Derek Hale sprawled over him.
Derek’s eyes grew large and he sprang back, face twisting between embarrassed and angry. Jackson lost it, doubled over, laughing so hard he started to wheeze. Stiles and Derek turned identical glares his way. Stiles opened his mouth but before he could process any of this, Derek hauled him to his feet and towards the house.
“Jackson go away, Stiles and I need to talk about something.”
Derek flung the front door open and spun around, slamming the door shut, and pinning Stiles against it.
“If you don’t want me to do this, bite my finger.”
“Wha—”
Derek kissed him again and the world disappeared. By the time Derek stopped kissing him, biting fingers was the last thing on his mind.