Work Text:
Derek opened his front door to find Stiles on the other side. He was dressed in his red hoodie and jeans and on his face was a mask. Not just any mask, mind you, but one that made Derek want to rip it off his face and howl with laughter in equal measure. It was a partial mask made up of a headband and a portion that hung down the center of the wearer’s face and ended with a piece that covered the nose.
It was a wolf mask, of sorts.
A furry wolf mask with grey and white markings, fuzzy ears perched atop Stiles’ buzz cut and a black stuffed button-like nose.
Derek growled.
“Hell no.”
Stiles reached up with one hand, a grin on his face, and Derek thought the teen was actually going to listen for once. He felt almost…disappointed. Until, that is, Stiles’ hand curled into a fist with one finger pointing towards himself and pushed the black nose.
“Arwooo. Arwooo. Arwooo.” Three poorly recorded, vaguely wolf-like howls issued forth from the mask. Stiles’ grin got wider. Derek’s eyes flashed red and his growl went sub-sonic.
“Take. It. Off.”
Stiles just grinned. And pushed the nose again.
“Arwooo. Arwooo. Arwooo.”
“Stiles. Take it off or I’ll rip it off and stuff it down your throat.”
Stiles stood on the Hale house front porch, grinning. Wearing a red hoodie and a craptastically hilarious wolf mask. He was completely unperturbed by either Derek’s growling or threats of bodily harm. In fact, the only thing that Derek could scent off him was smug amusement. They stared at each other for a moment, Derek growling and Stiles grinning.
Just when Derek was about to reach for the mask, Stiles poked it in the nose. Again.
“Arwooo. Arwooo. Arwooo.”
Derek was faced with the choice of either carrying through his threats, closing the door in Stiles face, or admitting that okay this might possibly be amusing. He found a fourth choice. Reaching out, he grabbed a hand full of the stupid red hoodie and yanked Stiles inside. He pushed Stiles towards the living room and onto the sofa.
Derek pulled the mask off with his free hand and tossed it over his shoulder. When it hit the far wall, the mask howled again. Only this time, the mechanism had obviously taken some damage from its mishandling and the howl that issued forth stuttered and trailed off.
“Ar-ar-woooooo.”
Derek cringed as the recording wound down to a whimper. Stiles glared at Derek for a moment before throwing himself back on the sofa and laughing loud and long.
“That was so worth the five bucks.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“Dude, it was in the clearance bin. I’m just amazed the thing still worked. Or it did until it met its untimely death against the wall.”
“What are you doing here? It’s almost midnight.”
“Yep,” Stiles said with a pop. “And you weren’t at Lydia’s Halloween party.”
“Your grasp of the obvious is amazing.”
“So, I thought I’d bring the party to you,” Stiles proclaimed, shaking the half-full Iron Man treat bag. “I have choc-o-late.”
Derek crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Seriously.”
“Oh come on, sourwolf. It’s Halloween. We survived the summer. We survived the damn alpha pack. We deserve a party. Besides, I come bearing other gifts as well.”
Stiles stood up and pulled out two DVD cases from the pocket of his hoodie. Waggling them in front of Derek and walking backwards, he moved towards the TV.
“So, it’s Halloween therefore we must watch a ghost movie.”
“My choices are Demi Moore or Bill Murray?”
“Pick one,” Stiles growled, all deep and throaty.
“Hell no.”
“Oh come on, dude. It’s practically fucking tradition.”
“Only you would think that Ghost is traditional Halloween film fare.”
“All righty then. Ghostbusters it is.”
“No.”
“Derek. I had to search everywhere for it.”
“Stiles, you OWN it.”
“Yeah, but I had to dig through my stuff to find it.”
“I saw it on top of the TV at last week’s pack night.”
“Stop raining on my parade, Derek, and sit your ass down. We. Are. Watching. It.”
Derek raised an eyebrow, folded his arms across his chest and growled, eyes flashing.
“Make me.”
Stiles tucked his head, tossed the DVD onto the floor behind him and kicked his feet in an awkward imitation of a charging bull. Scowling at Derek, he rushed forward, grabbing the older man around the waist and attempting to knock him back. It was rather like running full tilt into a brick wall.
Stiles bounced.
He shook his head, squared his shoulders and tried to tackle Derek at the knees. This time, he ended up on his ass. Looking up at Derek and glaring, Stiles shook his fist.
“You sir, are a brute.”
Derek just looked at him, shaking his head. Stiles stuck his tongue out him and crossed his arms over his chest, looking for all the world like a 6-year-old kid as he sat on the floor, pouting. Derek chuffed softly and held out a hand.
Stiles looked at the offered hand and then up at Derek who just cocked an eyebrow and waggled his fingers. Relenting with a sigh, Stiles placed his hand in Derek’s and was catapulted to his feet with Derek’s jerk. The sudden movement caught him unawares and he ended up plastered against Derek’s chest, his free hand clutching the standard grey Henley.
They’d been dancing around each other ever since that summer day when Derek worked on Stiles’ Jeep. The pack had grown closer once Scott accepted his place in the hierarchy. They’d grown even closer as a group when the Alpha pack finally followed through on their threats. Combating the alphas mind games had taken true cooperation.
The pack had come out the other end stronger. Despite their losses, the werewolves and their human companions came together to form a family. But as much as the group had jelled, the real change was between Stiles and Derek.
When Jackson died fighting the alphas, Stiles was there to help Lydia through her grief, but their time working together before that horrible never-to-be-forgotten night had changed their relationship. Lydia was his best friend.
Derek had taken Jackson’s death hard. Jax was his first chosen beta. Bringing him back from the kanima curse only to lose him a few short months later had been a blow. Stiles had helped Derek, too. Helped him to see that, while it lasted, Jackson found the sense of belonging that he’d craved all his life. Protecting the pack, dying for it, was something that Jackson had done willingly. By blaming himself, Derek cheapened his sacrifice. Derek fought the growing attraction he felt for Stiles ever since that night at the lake. Their age difference reminded him too much of himself and Kate and he had no desire to be anything like her. Yet, Stiles actions before and during the alpha nightmare proved to Derek that he needed to stop living in the past.
Now as they stood close, hands together and breaths mingling, Derek could scent the sudden spike in arousal from Stiles. It was something that happened more frequently every day. Stiles looked at Derek, eyes wide and mouth open before he shook his head sharply, once, and stepped back breaking the moment.
“So. Movie. Gonna put the disc in and eat my chocolate. If you want to watch you can,” he announced as he stumbled over to the TV stand. Popping the case open, he pried the disc out and fed it into the player. He grabbed the remote and snatched up his discarded bag of candy as he made it to the couch. Flopping down, he turned on the TV and stretched out his long legs in front of him, ankles crossed. “If you ask nice, I might even share.”
Derek smiled, just a small quirk of the lips, but Stiles saw it and answered it with a grin that lit up his face. The older man sat down on the couch, not quite close enough to touch and propped one ankle on the opposite knee. He watched the opening title sequence start and held out his hand.
Stiles looked down at the hand and then up at Derek’s face.
“What?”
Derek just poked his upturned hand at Stiles and kept watching the movie.
“Use your words, Derek. What have we discussed?”
“That you have more than enough for the both of us?”
“Very funny, sourwolf. But, no chocolate for you.”
Stiles reached into the bag and pulled out a Reese’s cup. Opening, the packaging with as much noise and fanfare as possible, he sat the candy in the palm of hand and sniffed it, loudly. He licked his lips and pulled the wrapper slowly away from the treat. Derek had turned to watch the show, his eyes tracing the tip of a tongue. Just as Stiles began to bring his hand to his mouth, Derek snatched the peanut butter cup off Stiles’ palm and popped it into his own.
Grinning, he watched Stiles look of incredulity as he chewed.
“Tasty.”
“You. You. You warthog faced buffoon.”
Derek shook his head and turned to watch the movie. “You’re quoting the wrong movie, Stiles.”
Stiles’ look of amused exasperation was short-lived. He tossed the bag of candy in Derek’s lap and settled in to watch the film. In short order, he was engrossed, quoting along and throwing empty candy wrappers at particularly cheesy lines. Fortunately, there was just enough candy to provide enough ammunition, though Stiles fell asleep before the big show down with Gozer.
Derek moved carefully to keep from waking the younger man as he slept with his head thrown back, snoring softly. He ejected the disc and put it back in its case, turning to look at Stiles. Shaking his head, he happened to catch sight of the other DVD case.
What the hell, he thought. His mom had loved Ghost. He popped it in and settled back on the couch. Stiles shifted as he sat down and turned his head in Derek’s direction, smacking his lips and settling into a slightly more comfortable position. Derek slid close and draped his arm across the back of the couch, giving Stiles a gentle nudge. The sleeping teen pulled up his feet and curled his body towards Derek. Sighing contentedly, he tucked his clasped hands between his knees and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder.
Derek leaned his head against Stiles’ and smiled as he ignored the opening scenes to watch the younger man. Even in his sleep, Stiles moved and made noise. He closed his eyes and breathed in Stiles’ scent until the strains of Unchained Melody caught his attention. He watched the lovers dance and let a hand fall onto Stiles’ shoulder, gripping softly.
He rather thought his mother would have liked Stiles and the swift sharp pain of knowing she would never meet him made him squeeze his eyes shut against the prick of tears. Derek lifted up a silent request for forgiveness towards the spirits of his family, hoping they might be close on this night, and a prayer of thanks, as well. Thanks for his new family and the young man drooling on his chest.