Archive of Our Own ^beta

Scott was hip-deep into Ghostbusters 2 when an insistent knocking on the door interrupted him. He rolled his eyes and groaned, because he knew that knock, and if he focused he could hear the tell-tale vocal tint to Stiles’ breathing. And Stiles never passed up an opportunity to explain in detail how much better Ghostbusters was than the sequel, while Scott just wanted to watch the Statue of Liberty walk through Manhattan, okay?

But, friendship. Scott got up and went to answer the door.

Stiles, in flagrant disregard for about half a dozen laws, was standing on Scott’s front porch with a six pack of Blue Moon, because Stiles and subtlety had a love-hate relationship or a marriage of convenience, depending on how you looked at it.

“Stiles…”

Stiles just brandished the six pack and flashed a too-cheerful smile. “Dude, I just slept with Derek Hale.”

At least if Jackson were still a kanima, Scott would’ve had a very not-embarrassing excuse for falling flat on his ass.

 “Scott? Scott, breathe dude, come on! Scott!”

Stiles was slapping his face, which was working, but still annoying.

“Okay, that sucked.” Said Scott, picking himself up so he could look a crouching Stiles in the eye. “I didn’t dream that, did I?”

Stiles winced. “Nope. I mean, if you’re talking about the whole thing where I told you I slept with Derek. ‘Cause that happened. That…totally happened.”

“You slept with Derek?!” Scott demanded.

“Nope!” Stiles admonished him. “Not tonight. Not yet. Tonight, your job is to celebrate your best friend losing his virginity to someone so far out of his league the Hubble couldn’t see it. Okay? We’re going to drink beer of dubious legality, watch bad TV, and you’re going to listen to me describing the experience in awkwardly specific detail. Tomorrow you can freak out but tonight?” He hung his head. “I need you to be my bro for this, okay Scott?”

Scott looked him up and down, then he nodded. Because sacrifices were what you did for friends, and Stiles was the closest thing to a brother Scott had ever had, more than that, even. Stiles bypassed brother and dove straight into soulmate, and if that meant Scott had to admit that Derek had a sex life…one involving his best friend, even, then that was what he would do. For Stiles.

“So. How was it?” Scott asked, reluctantly. They were settled in with Domino’s pizza and Project Runway because Stiles insisted gay sex entitled him to unapologetic Tim Gunn time. The pizza had sausage on it, and Scott was wondering if that was another not-subtle joke, or if it was because Scott really liked Italian sausage on his pizza and Stiles was cool that way.

Stiles stared at his pizza, like he was confused or something, which was probably not it because pizza’s pretty simple most of the time. Before molecular gastronamy got involved, anyway.

“Painful.” Stiles said, slowly, like he was figuring out his words ahead of time. Scott kind of wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming this. “Then…sort of squelchy? Then kind of awesome. Then…wow. I mean, it was like he had something to prove, you know? Like making it good would absolve him of something.” He shrugged.

“And…it was okay? Like, he didn’t…you didn’t feel like you had to--”

“Dude, are you high? Would I be here right now, celebrating if this wasn’t something I wanted? I’m way into Derek, okay? I’ve been working for this for so long, do you have any idea how hard it was to convince him to trust me? To let me that close? I mean, he’s sex on legs but the guy has the emotional availability of a pen.”

“Right. Okay. Sorry. Are you okay, though?”

Stiles ate some pizza and took way longer chewing than necessary, watching people with funny hair run around a fabric store like there were dogs snapping at their heels. “I’m still kinda sore. And…it’s kinda getting worse. And I feel sort of, I dunno. Empty? Like I left something behind when I left. But, like, I’m happy. And there was this moment, when he was in me--”

“I’m not above begging, Stiles. There’s only so much I can cope with before I start to wake up screaming.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fine. But there was this moment when he was—er, when it was happening, when we just looked at each other and it was like something connected. Like when they made us make circuits in science class back in middle school, you remember? But it was like that. Like this piece fell into place and a light came on and it was like, ‘oh. I get it now.’ Which is kind of terrifying because I maybe think I might be in love with him and…I’m not ready for that.”

“Yeah.” Said Scott. “Yeah, I…totally get what you mean.”

“Allison?” Stiles asked with a wince.

“Yeah.” Scott agreed. “Allison.”

“Does it get easier? Because if it doesn’t, I take back every time I complained about you having nothing but Allison on the brain. God, it’s like everything is Derek. It’s like he’s under my skin and I want him just…all the time. It sucks but I don’t want it to stop.” He dropped his head and rubbed his hands through his buzzed hair. “God I want him so much.”

Scott shifted uncomfortably on the couch and tried to be interested in whatever the hell “draping” meant while he thought up a way to make Stiles feel better.

“Do you want the bite?” He asked, and hated himself for it. It was like his mouth suddenly decided his brain was too slow to wait for and went off to do its own thing.

Stiles froze, then looked at him. “Why…”

Scott shrugged. Too late to back out now. “Derek’s a wolf, man. It’s kind of a big deal for him. Like, he was born this way. If you wanted to, I dunno, join him or something.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. His heart kicked hard for a few beats and Scott felt like a total jerk. “No, look. I’m sorry, dude. That’s none of my business.”

But Stiles was just staring at him. “Oh my God.” He said, queitly and kind of distant. “Oh my God! Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God—“

“Stiles!” Scott could hear Stiles lungs struggling to pump air, his heart spasming and tripping in its beat. He gathered Stiles into his arms and clung to him, rubbing his back and making little shushing noises.

“He’s a werewolf, Scott!” Stiles was whimpering. “I had sex with a freakin’ werewolf! He could’ve torn me to shreds. Oh God what if he wants me to? What if he says we can’t be together if I don’t take the bite? Oh God, what if his mom made him promise he’d marry a nice werewolf girl and he’s totally just fooling around with me until someone better comes along and then he’ll drop me like spoiled milk? What am I gonna do, Scott?!”

“You’re gonna breathe, first thing.” Scott told him. “Come on, this is so not inhaler-worthy. Deep breaths, buddy, you can do it.”

Stiles inhaled obediently, but Scott could feel cold droplets of water against his neck, and he could smell the salt of Stiles’ tears, and the wolf in him wanted to hunt Derek down and tear him apart for making Stiles cry. But fighting Derek meant either humiliating defeat (again) or else taking the alpha power for himself and he was definitely not ready to be anyone’s alpha. And probably Stiles would just get pissed off about it.

“Okay, first of all, I’m a wolf, and I never hurt Allison. Ever. And, like, Derek’s always had way more control of his wolf than I do. And if you want to know the truth? Sex for werewolves is kinda…snuggly. Like, all the wolf wants to do is show you his belly and lick you a lot. It gets kinda worked up during foreplay, but the sex part? Total pushover.”

Stiles laughed, wet and ugly, against Scott’s shoulder.

“So, you don’t have to worry about that, okay? If Derek’s wolf is anything like mine, he could  never hurt you.” Should it be weirder to talk about this with his best friend? He and Stiles had crossed so many lines by now they tended to forget where appropriate even lived anymore.

“And the bite? Look, Derek’s family had humans and werewolves in it. He’s not, like, some sort of werewolf supremicist, okay? He’s not going to give you the bite if you don’t ask for it. It’s, like, his number one rule or something.”

He took a breath. Stiles was relaxing against him, and his scent was softening as the sharp bite of anxiety started to fade. “And…well, I’m not going to pretend I know Derek very well, but I’ve been in his pack. I’ve seen how ready he was to protect me and keep me safe. I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to offer something he doesn’t want to give. And if Derek…makes you happy, and if he lets you in, trusts you like that? I don’t think he plans on dropping you anytime soon.”

Stiles pulled away and irritably wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Thanks, dude.”

“No problem.”

Stiles looked up at him kind of shyly. “Are…you okay with this? I mean, really. Or are you just pretending not to be disgusted and horrified until I leave the room?”

Scott sighed and took a sip of his beer. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t horrible. “I don’t know, man. You know I don’t trust Derek. But I love you, and if he’s good for you then I’d be a dick if I didn’t support you two. I’m not happy about it, but I don’t want to stand in your way if this is something you want.”

Stiles just stared at him, and blinked a couple of times. “God, you’ve gotten so old lately.”

Scott smiled and hit him with a throw pillow. “Shut up!”

“No, I mean it!” Stiles laughed. “Some crazy guy turns you into a werewolf and suddenly you’re everybody’s big brother. It’s cute!”

“I’ll show you cute!” Scott challenged, and it took all of five seconds for the two of them to end up on the floor, grappling and laughing and gasping at poorly aimed knees and elbows.

They ended up sprawled beside the coffee table, giggling like little kids, and Scott could feel bruises fading on his sides and legs.

“He’s really, really hot.” Stiles said. He sounded amazed.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Scott agreed, because he was supposed to.

“I really like him.” Stiles confessed.

“Okay.”

“I just wish he wasn’t so sad all the time.”

“Sad?”

“Yeah, like. He spends all of his time in that house, with all of those ghosts. It’s like he’s punishing himself for something.”

“Like killing Peter?” Scott suggested.

Stiles shook his head. “No, he was doing it before that. It’s like he won’t let himself forget them, and I totally get that. I do. But the way he’s doing it, I think he wants it to hurt. I think he blames himself for the fire.”

Scott wrinkled his forehead. “Why? It was Kate, wasn’t it? It’s not like he had anything to do with it.”

Stiles was quiet for a moment before he said, “That doesn’t matter. When it’s someone you love, you never stop thinking there was something you could’ve done.”

Scott shifted to prop himself up on an elbow so he could see Stiles’ face. “Stiles.”

“I know I didn’t make my mom get sick.” Stiles headed him off. “Derek knows he didn’t light the match. It doesn’t make any difference. It just proves the world sucks.”

Scott didn’t know what to say to that, so he offered up what he had.

“My world sucked less once you were in it.”

Stiles smiled. “Thanks. But I don’t think I’ll be enough.”

Scott shrugged. “You’re worth more than you think, dude.” He said. “And Derek…Derek’s a lucky man.”