Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Should I make out the wedding invitations?”

Stiles swallowed his mouthful of soda.”What?”

Lydia smirked. “Well, you and Derek have seemed awfully cozy lately. Just wanted to be supportive.”

“Oh, yeah, because that’s exactly why I went into wildlife preservation.” He rolled his eyes. “Beastiality jokes.”

Besides, Stiles wouldn’t call him and Derek ‘cozy’ precisely. More like Stiles could put on a collar without getting his hand bitten off. It had been a rough road since he had been hired at the wildlife preserve and immediately assigned to be the grumpy wolf’s personal handler. The rest of the staff had been pretty supportive about it, if by supportive you mean being absolute dicks. Even Scott, Stiles long time best friend, teased him mercilessly about his apparent romance. And, given it was Scott’s fault that Stiles ended up working here, that was so not far.

See, it had all started their sophomore year of highschool when Scott had fallen in love with Allison Argent, daughter to Chris Argent and owner of the new Beacon Hills wildlife preserve. Wanting to spend as much time as possible with her, Scott had begged Stiles to work at the preserve with him over the summer, and like the sucker he was Stiles had agreed. One summer turned into a permanent part time job, and Stiles had eventually decided that working at the preserve was what he wanted to do with his life. Scott, forever the romantic, had decided to follow Allison into the field as well. Which is how they all ended up going to the same college (a few hours from town), getting matching degrees (zoology, to be exact), and all being hired at the Beacon Hills preserve (no small part owed to the fact that Allison was, once again, daughter of the owner).

It just so happened that on that particular year that they graduated, in fact in that particular summer, Mr. Argent decided that he was going to expand the preserve to feature an all new wolves exhibit, shipping in a small pack of four. And, at first, Stiles had even been excited about the prospect. He and Scott were going to be the head caretakers of an entire section of the preserve, which sounded pretty damn important. That was of course until Stiles met Derek.

Derek. How to describe Derek... well, he was big, for a wolf. Black fur, bizarre red eyes, he looked more hellhound than Canis lupus. And one hell of a temper, like really, not that Stiles was saying that he was Snow White or anything, but wow. He had never felt that an animal would hate him more than Derek did those first few weeks. And that was saying something, given that Scott hadn’t even been able to walk within five feet of the wolf before setting Derek off. Apparently Stiles didn’t even have the worst of it.

What he did have, however, was a hard ass time doing anything remotely like training for Derek. It wasn’t like the wolves had to be domesticated, but there were wildlife shows put on by the preserve that were suppose to educate guests. And given that Derek was the alpha of his pack, well, it was kind of important for him to be in the show. But even getting a collar on the mutt, much less strutting about onstage... no amount of positive reinforcement via warm hotdog bits seemed to change his mind.

But Stiles was nothing if not tenacious once he was set on doing something. So while Scott paraded around with one of the calmer wolves, Isaac being a personal favorite though Boyd and Erica eventually getting comfortable enough to go onstage, Stiles had done his best to slowly gain Derek’s trust. And it had worked, to a degree.

The truly annoying part was the co-workers, Stiles had been quick to find out.

Lydia had been the worst of it. She was in management, never really working with the animals but still devoted to the preserve. Stiles had wondered why he had ever garnered a crush on her in high school, for all that they were pretty good friends now. She had called Stiles months of effort to get Derek not to try to bite his hand off ‘wooing’ and would tease him mercilessly about the fact that he spent Saturday nights at the preserve rather than on dates. And while Stiles mostly took it in turn, knowing that it was all harmless teasing, it still stung a bit how true a lot of the remarks were. He had to admit that he had spent more time getting Derek to like him than any of his previous relationships.

Stiles finished his lunch quickly, stuffing down his sandwich before Lydia had a chance to direct a few more blows his way. It was Monday, which meant they didn’t have a show to worry about, which was probably why Scott was taking his sweet time chatting it up with Allison. As Stiles walked to the wolf section of the preserve he couldn’t help but wonder if Lydia had a point. Maybe he should stop working so much and try to find some sort of romance life of his own. He had definitely slowed down since college.

Of course that thought dissipated as his wolves came into view. Because yes, they were Stiles’ wolves, through and through. There was energetic Isaac, who was apparently in love with Scott, and really, how was it fair he got all the beastiality jokes when Scott got his face nearly licked off daily? Isaac had a tawny coat and was long and lean, particularly keen to wrap himself around unsuspecting legs. Erica, the ice queen of the pack who didn’t take sass from anyone else despite being the only female, was lounging on the ground. Her coat was the lightest, white with golden highlights. Her mate Boyd was curled around her, a wolf who was always calm and never rushed, though fiercely protective of his mate the first few days of arrival. He was almost as bulky as Derek, and his coat was dark brown.

Derek, of course, was seated at the small rock outcrop at the edge of the enclosure, keeping an eye out for his pack. It was odd, the fact that he hadn’t taken Erica as a mate despite being the obvious alpha. Really should have gone against all his instincts as a wolf. Stiles wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. For a few days he and Scott had assumed that Boyd had been the alpha, but the wolves submissive behavior towards Derek had spoken otherwise. Though it was somewhat sappy, Stiles had wondered if it was because Derek had lost his mate before arriving here, and he wasn’t ready to move on.

Stiles locked the entrance behind him as Isaac came bounding up, quickly tangling himself in Stiles’ legs. “Okay, okay!” he cried, laughing as he bent down to scratch behind the adolescent’s ears. “Yes, I know you’ve been a good boy Sir Isaac, but Scott will be here soon to give you all the attention you could possibly want. So I gotta go give your supreme overlord there some love.”

Isaac whined as he wiggled his body, pressing his nose against Stiles’ pocket.

Stiles stood. “No. You know these are for Derek.” He patted his pocket. “Scott will be here with treats for you soon, so stop being a baby.”

Isaac let out one final whine before bounding away again, knowing when to admit defeat. Stiles was glad the preserve didn’t have a strict no-interaction policy with the animals. Though these were wild animals, and thus would always be dangerous and need a level of caution when being handled, they were animal ambassadors for the public showing that all animals deserved to live and be protected. And that meant that the handlers had to train them to a certain degree, in order to interact with them in shows.

And speaking of interaction, Derek was now eyeing Stiles with a mixture of anticipation and distrust. Stiles hated to think on how he would be received without a pocketful of treats. He walked up to his charge with an easy going smile. “Why hello there King Sourwolf, nice to see you would be so kind as to allow me within your territory without even barking your head off. Such a courteous host, I must say. And how are we feeling about a little bit of collar training today?”

Derek’s head sank at the word collar, his ears pressed back. He was just above Stiles on his rock outcrop. Stiles held it up, a simple red collar with a steel chain leash. It was really meant to be a last measure if a wolf decided to try to break free during a show. Derek absolutely hated it.

Stiles took out a treat, showing it to Derek, causing the wolf’s ears perked right back up. “Yeah, you know what this is. Can you be a good boy and stand for me?”

Derek slowly straightened his hind legs, showing that he obviously didn’t care to do so one bit. But stand he did.

“Good boy.” Stiles let Derek grab the treat. He wasn’t going to bother asking the wolf to get down from the boulder he was on. It would be easier this way to put on his collar. He knew that looming over Derek was a pretty big no-no, and he hated getting dust on his khaki pants from kneeling. “Now I want you to hold still while I put the you-know-what on.”

Derek stiffened, but didn’t move. He let Stiles slowly wrap the collar around his neck, clasping it comfortably tight. Stiles didn’t like to admit this to anyone, but sometimes he made up dialogue for what the wolves were saying. It made him feel a little less lonely when Scott wasn’t around. Right now he imagined Derek saying something snarky like, “How about I put a collar on you and see how you like it?”

“Well, I do have to say that red is my color. I would probably look pretty nice with something like that wrapped around my neck.” He reached out and stroked the side of Derek’s neck, a pleased smile smacked on his face. “You’d get all the bitches with that look, I’m sure. If, you know, you’re into bitches. I go either way myself, so who am I to judge?”

Derek continued to look unimpressed.

“Wow, way to put my hard work into perspective dude. You wouldn’t even let me touch you that first week, remember? I literally had to put treats on the ground before you would eat them. And now look at us, thick as a pair of thieves. Almost makes me want to propose on the spot. You think my dad would be too freaked out if I brought a wolf home as my fiance? He took the liking guys thing pretty well, so maybe...”

Derek sat down and began to scratch his neck, his claws rubbing against the collar.

Stiles sighed. “You sick of my banter too? God, no wonder I can’t get a date if I can’t even hold a conversation with someone who can’t talk. Not to say you can’t talk, I’m sure you communicate in all sorts of ways we don’t know about yet, but-”

Derek leaned forward and gave Stiles face a large lick, from the bottom of his chin to the tip of his nose.

Stiles cringed backwards. “Ugh, dude, gross! This was not what I had in mind when I thought about getting some tongue!”

Derek looked awfully smug as he scratched his neck again.

+++

The boxes were coated in dust, fine powdery stuff that choked the air. Stiles wiped one off with an impatient hand, his palm quickly coated in grey. He made a face at the offending appendage and went to grab a dust cloth.

“How long have these been here?” he asked his father, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Most of it is your mother’s things.” The Sheriff opened a box and took out a blue and white polkadot dress, rubbing the worn fabric between his fingers. “So not for awhile.” His voice held a trace of hollowness.

Stiles patted his father’s shoulder. “We’re doing the right thing. She wouldn’t want this stuff to rot up here in the attic. I’m sure that dress will look amazing on someone.”

The Sheriff chuckled. “Not as amazing as your mother. Do you remember this dress? She bought it for your eighth birthday party.”

Stiles squatted down in front of another box. “Yeah, I remember.” He opened it, the tape old enough to simply rip apart. “But I don’t think we can really pull of the polkadot look, so to charity it goes. That’s what we agreed on, remember? Only the stuff we can use or is really important.”

The Sheriff nodded and paced the dress reverently into the bag designated for clothing. “I know.”

They fell into an easy routine after that, speaking little, recalling a memory here or there. It was good they waited so many years to do this. For a long time it had been too soon, too fresh of a wound to pick at. But sadness scars over with time, a cut that never fades but becomes part of you, a memory of fresh pain. Now was the time for cleaning though, for bittersweet memories to be shared between them.

“Huh,” his father grunted, holding a dark blue text with tea colored pages.

“Hmm?” Stiles put down a necklace and walked over. “What’s that?”

“Don’t know.” He turned the text over, but there was nothing printed on the binding. “Your mother always was a bit of a pack rat with family heirlooms. Seems like this may be one of those.” He opened the book and blinked down into the page before handing it to Stiles. “Well I’m useless here without my glasses. You have a look at it.”

Stiles scanned the text, black and thin, the handwritten letters intertwining like a spider’s web. “Book of Magicks...” Stiles smile wrapped around his face. “Whoa, seriously awesome.”

The Sheriff scoffed. “Magic. Your mom was always going on about that sort of thing. Purifying spirits, good luck charms. Always seemed pretty hokey to me.”

Stiles remembered. Little chants that were sing-song light, whispered to him at night. Teas with strange herbs that had her giggling about being a hedgewitch. A gem- what was it? Something for protection, something she had made into a necklace for Stiles’ first day of school that had rested against his chest. He had worn that so much as a kid. Was is still in the house, trapped inside one of these boxes?

“Mind if I keep it?” he asked, flipping through long paragraphs and strange symbols.

The Sheriff waved a flippant hand. “I doubt Goodwill has many wizards perusing its bookshelves. Go right ahead.”

+++

Allison scrunched her nose. “I doubt keeping bloody gloves on the table is very sanitary for our work environment.” She was in the process of taking off her own gloves, thick leather that went all the way up her forearms for when she worked with the birds of prey.

Stiles glanced up from his book. “Well sorry princess, next time Derek gets his leg sliced open, i'll just leave it be.”

Her brows knitted. “Is he okay? What happened?”

“Hell if I know, I came back from dinner to find his hind leg with a three inch scratch. Any deeper and I would have recommended stitches.” He turned a page. “Isaac was sulking pretty guiltily though. I’m sure it was just some rough housing that got out of hand. I bandaged it myself, so no need to worry. He’s not even limping.”

“Well, nice to see you care so deeply,” Allison scoffed.

Stiles didn’t bother to reply. There was no need for Allison to know how he had basically panicked at the sight of blood, flailing so hard Derek had flinched away. How he had petted and cooed and worried over the wolf as Scott went to go get supplies. How he had slowly wrapped the bandage around the Derek’s leg, whispering sweet nothings to calm him down, swearing Scott to secrecy when the horrible event was all over.

There was no need to tell Allison this because Stiles was sure she would hear all about it in embarrassing detail tonight. And speaking of his soon-to-be traitorous best friend, Scott chose that moment to make an entrance, a white rag spotted with blood pressed against the his forearm.

Allison swooped forward. “And now what’s happened to you?”

He gave his bravest smile. “Derek swiped me with one of his claws when I was holding him down for Stiles earlier. I guess the big, bad wolf isn’t the only one to have earned a battle wound today.”

“I wouldn’t call getting yourself hurt through stupidity a battle wound,” Stiles snarked from his chair. It wasn’t Derek’s fault Scott hadn’t held him down properly.

Scott snorted. “I guess only Derek gets you on Mama Hen mode. So sorry your lifelong best friend doesn’t even get an ounce of concern.”

“Mother Hen?” Allison asked, biting her cheek to hold back a giggle.

Scott deposited the rag next to Stiles’ gloves, going for the first aid kit. “Oh you should have seen him today, calling Derek every pet name in the book. I’m pretty sure Der-Bear was my favorite-”

“Shouldn’t you two be leaving now?” Stiles was quick to cut off. He didn’t like the way Allison was holding in her sides to hold back laughter. “It’s not like you got stuck on the night shift for the second day in a row.”

“That’s because I’m not the one who told Lydia she put on too much eyeshadow right before she assigned shifts,” Allison was quick to remind him.

Stiles sniffed. “Well, it was true.”

Scott finished taping the bandage to his arm. “All right, all ready to leave.” He turned to Stiles. “Make sure to take care of Der-Bear, don’t want him getting an infection or anything now.”

If Stiles wasn’t holding a precious family heirloom, he would have chucked it straight at Scott’s head. As it was he waved goodbye without looking up, Allison chirping a good night before the door shut behind them. God, he needed to get some better friends.

Still, he wasn’t just reading the book to ignore teasing. The first dozen or so pages had been filled with small rituals and descriptions of items, mostly for purity and protection. Some of what he had read had reminded him of little things his mother would do from time to time. Soon after Scott and Allison had left though he turned the page to find a section that looked different from the rest of the book. The pages were older, the yellow of a smoker’s fingers, and crinkled as he touched them. The words were in another language, Latin maybe, or Gaelic. He definitely couldn’t make heads or tails of what was being said.

But these pages had a different feel to them. Pictures of grotesque creatures and diagrams littered the pages. Someone with small, neat handwriting and a blue pen had written notes on certain sections, translating the odd word, things like mountain ash and monk’s hood. He finally settled on a page that was nearly fully translated, the bold title underlined with blue letters.

Transfiguration of Animal to Human

Stiles grinned. “Whoa, what have we here?” This was straight up Harry Potter looking stuff. He scanned the page, but only a few words were translated, things like blood and moon and sacrifice. Very spooky stuff. Unlike the rest of the pages, there was what looked like a short poem scribbled into the side right next to a chunk of indented text. In parentheses on top of it was the sentence, Words of power need no one language!

Well, how could Stiles possibly resist?

“By silver moon I call by blood,” he began, his voice holding the mimicking mimsy of a chant, “to change that which is beast onto my own.”

The full moon shone through the office windows, the table lamp casting a golden glow across the room, throwing hazy shadows onto the wall. A light gust of wind rustled past the window, whistling against the glass. The heater groaned with a metallic clank.

“Let memories from me be taken, and let him know that which human I have known. A sacrifice to nature thus I give, a brother given freely to the wild.”

The animals were silent all throughout the preserve, not a call to be heard. The parking lot was empty besides Stiles’ beat up blue jeep. The sky was like a solid blue piece of construction paper, white cut outs for the autumn moon and the few stars and shone past the town’s light pollution.

“Let that which my heart desires be known, and to this night the bond be forever forged.” Stiles shook his head. “Come on man, that doesn’t even rhyme.”

Placing a piece of scrap paper to keep his spot, he got up and stretched his back, grabbing a flashlight off the table. His eyes skirted back to the white rag that Scott had been using to cover his cut. He picked it up with two fingers, confirming it free of blood. Which was odd, because he definitely noticed blood on it earlier. He put the towel down to then notice that his gloves had no blood stains too, and now he was a little weirded out, because he definitely remembered getting blood on those...

He shook his head. Maybe Allison or Scott had replaced the items when he wasn’t looking. He didn’t remember them doing so, but there were tons of rags and gloves around the preserve, and he had been pretty wrapped up in reading his book to ignore their teasing. He shrugged and flipped on his flashlight.

It wasn’t like the blood just vanished into thin air, right?

Chapter Text

The preserve felt different at night. During the day it was open and light, with large enclosures of land for the animals. It wasn’t a zoo, though zoos were getting better with humane habitations. A preserve is open for visitors but meant to benefit the animals. The grassy knoll were Stiles’ wolves lived was open enough for them to run around in, had trees to shade them from the summer sun, places to hide when they didn’t feel like dealing with humans.

Some people didn’t like the idea of caging in animals at all, would rather they be free and out in the wild, but Stiles didn’t really buy that. He knew what behaviors animal exhibited when they were sad, and the animals at the Beacon Wildlife Preserve were pretty damn happy. They were safe, well fed, and had a territory to call their own. And though not all animals should be taken from the wild, these ones were serving a huge importance to their species by being ambassadors for the human visitors. Derek and his pack had a job in letting people know that wolves weren’t evil tricksters who ate up grandmas.

But at night, at night it was different. Creepy, too open, made you feel small and vulnerable. Stiles was never one to really get paranoid, even after watching horror films, but he at night, alone in the preserve, he would always flinch when he heard something rustling, shining his flashlight on the odd squirrel or rustling branch. Usually night duty was given to two people, but Danny had gotten sick and couldn’t make it. Stiles didn’t really mind, it was just walking around and making sure no one had forgotten to lock up the cages. He was an adult, he could handle the creepy factor.

He always saved the wolf enclosure for last, because he liked saying bye to his pack before leaving. They were always happily piled together, their fur intermixing under the glow of Stiles’ flashlight. Sometimes Derek would still be awake, would lift his head and gaze directly at Stiles, the wolf’s eyes reflecting green like the shell of a beetle. Stiles would walk up to the fence, curl his hands around the links and say a soft goodnight, promise that he would be back in the morning. Wait until Derek dropped his head back down, settling once more with the others. Stiles would wonder if his presence was an annoyance or a comfort, but liked to think it was the later.

Tonight he didn’t see Derek in the wolf pile though. At first he thought that he was mistaken, that perhaps Derek was just in the bottom or off the side, but the swipes of his flashlight began to grow quick and panicked. He started scanning the entire enclosure, moving towards the gate in the fence. Was Derek ill? Or perhaps only restless. But never, never had the wolf not been with his pack this late at night. The full moon suddenly felt ominous as its face was covered by wispy clouds.

“Derek?” Stiles called out, hoping that the wolf would come into view. “Derek, are you there?” There was no way the wolf could have hopped the fence, right? It was far too high. He must be behind something, hiding from sight for some reason. Stiles stuck his hand in his pocket, his fingers curling around his keys, when his flashlight suddenly caught sight of a man behind the fence, lightly obscured by some of the foliage that clung to the links.

Stiles froze, his eyes growing wide. The man was pale, his skin highlighted by the glare of the flashlight. His hair was dark, black and messy, cut to a length similar to Stiles’ own. He was muscular, definition that could put a greek statue to shame, arms and shoulders and biceps and stomach that seemed to be cut from glass, all put on display from the fact that he was, heads to toes, naked. His face was handsome too, that kind of rugged that would look good with some stubble and a leather jacket, though that’s right, he did have stubble, and Stiles couldn’t really convince himself that the man needed any clothes to look better than he did naked. And his eyes-

Holy shit, his eyes were red.

Bright red, like cough syrup or a smear of blood against a white shirt. The kind of red that no human should be able to have without contacts. And they were narrowed under a pair of some truly impressive eyebrows, glaring at Stiles for all they were worth.

Right. Contacts. Or some weird ass genetics, but still, Stiles had to think here for a second, reboot his brain from the private show he had stumbled upon. There was a strange man, albeit an attractive one, in his wolf pen. Naked. Leading Stiles to believe that this man was A.) insane or B.) on something. And that just wasn’t giving Stiles much confidence that the man was an okay companion to spend the night with the wolves.

“Shit, how did you even get in there? Did you steal Scott’s keys or something?” Stiles fumbled for the keys in his pocket. “Don’t move, I’m going to come and get you out. You should be fucking thankful the wolves are asleep, they don’t really like strangers. I don’t wanna call the cops but I will if you get rowdy, okay? I have my dad on speed dial and I’m not afraid to use that privilege.”

“Stiles,” the man said, and he sounded positively exasperated. Not loony, not high off his mind, but actually annoyed, as if Stiles was the one who was being ridiculous right now.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?” Stiles asked with a raised brow. “I would think I would remember...”

But there was something familiar in the man, now that Stiles thought about it. Or at least in the man’s expression. That kind of impatience that bordered on annoyed, that kind of disgruntled with the world but at Stiles in particular, that kind of condescension that seemed too angry to be cocky... Those eyes, hauntingly, supernaturally red, nothing like them, rubies set to a black, furred face.

He didn’t know why he said it. Hell, he didn’t even know why he thought it. But there was something telling him that it was, however impossible, however weird, right. That this instinct wasn’t just an overactive imagination, but an inkling of truth that was heading straight towards epiphany. So, with only a little hesitation, he heard himself asking, “Derek?”

The wolf turned man stared Stiles straight in the eye, unimpressed as always. “Change me back.”

+++

Stiles rubbed his hair frantically, creating a mess out of his short locks. “Okay, wow, let me try to get this straight.” He was pacing, Derek seated on a chair and following his movements with impatient eyes. “You don’t know what happened. One minute, you’re a wolf, and then, bam! You’re a human, smack dab in the middle of your enclosure.”

“That seems about it.” Derek shifted in the chair, obviously still uncomfortable with the clothes. They were just about the same height, but there was no denying that Stiles’ spare clothes were meant for a man with a leaner frame. The orange and blue striped shirt that Derek was currently filling out was stretched taut against his biceps. So sad that Danny was sick and had to miss this view. “You can imagine my surprise,” he added dryly.

Stiles made a face. “Oh, yes, that’s just what I need right now. More of your sass. This is a serious issue Derek!” The speed of his pacing increased. “I have no idea what would have made you a human! Are the Argents doing some sort of weird genetic testing? Did the Blue Fairy decide to make a night call? Is there some weird magic shit going down-” He froze.

“What?” Derek stood up. “What’s wrong?”

“Well I mean... Of course it’s impossible,” Stiles muttered, walking briskly to the table and picking up the magic book. “I mean, yeah, it was a weird, old book from my attic, and it did look pretty authentic but... I mean, it couldn’t be, no way. I’m not a wizard...”

The wolf rolled his eyes, and yeah, some things didn’t change no matter what the species. “This is no time to be quoting children’s movies. Did you figure out what happened or not?”

“I mean- wait, what?” Stiles swiveled his head towards Derek. “How do you know that was a Harry Potter quote? In fact, how do you know what a movie is at all?”

A long suffering sigh. “How do I know how to speak english? And some spanish too apparently, though not much of it. I was a wolf less than three hours ago, I’m not exactly a wealth of information about my current state.” Derek ground his teeth. “Not, of course, that it will matter once you figure out how to turn me back.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess that’s true.” Stiles continued flipping through the pages, looking for the tell tale blue ink. “In movies and books they animals just know how to talk naturally. I guess there is a bit of background knowledge that goes along with it. And apparently there’s a stage in your life when you’re really young that if you don’t get proper language simulation you won’t ever-”

“Stiles,” Derek cut off.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Stiles opened his mouth before clicking it shut again with a glare. “Bet you’re glad to be able to finally say that, huh?”

“Usually your mindless talking isn’t too annoying, but I suppose that was before I knew just how ridiculous the things you said were.” Derek surged forward, glowering down at the book. “Besides, you should be less interested in the human development and more worried about how you’re going to turn me back.”

“I’m working on it, all right? Look, I found the page and everything.” Stiles flourished a hand over said page. “Now all we have to do is figure out what I did, and then we can work on reversing it.”

He sat down at the table, Derek grabbing a chair and scooting in close, reading over his shoulder. Which would have been distracting if Stiles wasn’t so busy writing down every scrap of translated text into a separate piece of paper. Every word, no matter how small or inconspicuous, was meticulously transferred. And of course that gave Stiles a whole lot of scrambled up nothing.

“Okay, let’s start with just the spell itself,” he decided, muttering to himself more than talking to Derek. “By silver moon I call by blood, to-”

Derek clapped a hand over Stiles’ mouth, large and warm and strangely calloused. “Do you want to risk transforming more of my pack?” he asked accusingly.

Stiles yanked off the offending hand. “Look, I’m pretty sure the only reason it worked for you is because of very specific reasons. Like here, by silver moon, right? Which obviously means that this has to be said by night, most likely with a full moon or something hoaky like that.” Which, damn, wasn’t it just his luck that the full moon was tonight?

“It’s still night, last time I checked,” Derek was quick to point out. “And it’s better to not risk it. I’m capable of reading what you’ve written down, just point out the verses.”

“Okay, fine, fine. I still think it won’t work, because of this line right here.” Stiles underlined the words by blood. “The spell needs blood to work, and I’m guessing yours. Makes sense, right, because you were the only one transformed.” He picked up his work gloves. “I was helping bandage you earlier, and I got some blood on my gloves. But now there’s no blood, see? The spell must have sucked it up or something.”

Derek grabbed the gloves and smelled them. “Yes, these are your gloves. And there’s definitely no blood on them.”

Stiles paused for a moment. “Don’t tell you have super smelling or something. Aw, man, I get stuck with an even grumpier version of Wolverine- actually, is your leg all right? I didn’t- well, I didn’t exactly look, but I didn’t notice any blood when we were walking back here.” Stiles was very proud of himself for just how much he didn’t look.

Derek frowned and rubbed his thigh. “It’s healed.”

“Well, that’s odd. I don’t remember that happening when you were a wolf.” Stiles scratched his temple with the back of the pen. “Okay, well this part is pretty self explanatory.” He underlined, To change that which is beast onto my own. “You were a beast. Now you’re human, thus my own kind. So basically I needed to say this at night, with the moon showing, with a bit of your blood, and bam, you’re human. And the next line.” He pointed to, Let memories from me be taken, and let him know which human I have known. “This explains you understanding the Harry Potter references and the bit of Spanish, not really my best subject but still, something I know a little from high school. This spell seems to transfer some of my knowledge onto you.” He beamed excitedly. “That’s seriously cool. Except...” His smile quickly disappeared. “Wait, do you know everything that I’ve ever done? Like, who I took the winter formal junior year? Do you know that?”

Of course, the winter formal wasn’t precisely the embarrassing memory (or memories, let’s be honest) that Stiles was worried about Derek knowing, but it was a specific enough event to test the theory.

Derek scoffed. “Knowing your social skills, I’d have to guess no one. But no, I don’t have specific memories of you. I only knew your name, and even that may be left over from my time as a wolf. I’m not sure.”

Stiles nodded in relief. “Well, that’s good. And I took the beautiful Lydia Martin, for your information, Mr. Let’s-be-mean-to-the-only-guy-who-can-help-him-now.”

Derek smirked. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Okay, so maybe Lydia had only went as Stiles’ friend, and only because Jackson had dumped her a few weeks before. And maybe he had had to badger her to even dance with him once. And maybe the night had ended with her tripping and spraining her ankle and Jackson picking her up and rushing her to the hospital, and then they had reconciled while Stiles had just sat like the loser he was in the waiting room-

But! The big but here was that Stiles was far removed now from those days. He had grown out his hair, gotten a bit of a fashion sense, and as soon as college had arrived he had matured, gotten dates, gotten laid. So he really didn’t appreciate Derek’s sarcasm right now, because he was attractive, damn it! Maybe not as attractive as Derek was right now, but that didn’t count because Derek was actually a wolf.

“Okay, ignoring you being a dick, this is the line that really has me tripped up.” He underlined, A sacrifice to nature thus I give, a brother given freely to the wild. “I mean, what sacrifice? What brother? What does that even freaking mean?”

“Skip it,” Derek grunted. “What about the last line?” He leaned forward and pointed towards the line, Let that which my heart desires be known, and to this night the bond be forever forged.

Stiles pursed his lips. “Well, the first bit sounds like it’s just a bit of fluff that I want you to turn into a human, thus my ‘heart’s desire’. The second though... Apparently we’re bonded? Maybe that’s why you knew my name.” He turned around, tilting his head curiously. “Do you feel a bond with me?”

“Other than the fact that you are, to my detriment, the only human I can currently trust to not believe I’m insane?” Derek shook his head. “No, not really.”

“Okay, well let’s try to think of-” Stiles’ cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out with a small frown. “Who the hell would be calling me so late...” His insides churned when he saw Allison’s name pop up on the screen. He quickly hit the accept button. “Yo, Allison, what’s wrong?”

“Stiles,” Allison sobbed out, and suddenly Stiles felt like his insides were drenched in ice water. “God, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be crying, I’m usually much stronger than this.”

“Allison, shh, calm down.” He stood up and started pacing again. “Is it Scott? Is Scott okay?”

“God, Stiles he’s- you’re not going to believe me when I tell you. I didn’t know who else to call though, I don’t think- god, who do you call when something like this happens?”

And suddenly Stiles knew just what had happened to Scott. Knew, with absolute certainty, what that line of the spell meant. A sacrifice to nature thus I give, a brother given freely to the wild. If there was ever a man Stiles considered to be his brother, it was Scott. “Is he...” He licked his lips nervously. “Is he a wolf?”

Allison paused, and a shocked silence hung between them before she asked, “How did you know?”

Stiles glanced at Derek, who was currently glaring at the magic book, as if to scare it into giving up its secrets. “I think you you need to bring Scott to the preserve.”

+++

Stiles had to admit that Scott made a pretty adorable wolf, in that adolescent way that Isaac had coined. He appeared to be tame too, because as soon as Allison opened the door he had bounded up to Stiles and jumped up to lick his face. Allison told them that was how she woke up in bed before calling Stiles.

“At first I thought a dog had gotten loose in our house, but then I realized that Scott wasn’t there,” she explained, seated at the table, scratching Scott’s head as it laid content in her lap. “And of course at first I didn’t believe it, but Scott would never leave in the middle of the night without leaving a note or something, and his phone was still in the house and I... Well, let’s just say I’m glad I called you.” She eyed Derek hesitantly. “Because it appears I’m not the only one with a transforming boyfriend tonight,” she joked with a strained smile.

Stiles didn’t bother telling her to knock it off with the dating jokes. He was the reason why she was in this mess, after all. “Okay, well me and Derek are trying to figure out how to reverse this spell. We haven’t gotten far, but if we can somehow translate the rest of this text...” He bounced his pen off the yellowed page of the magic book. “I’m sure there’s something in here that can help us. Meanwhile, I think I have a plan on what to do with Scott, but you’re not going to like it...”

Stiles was quickly proven right in that, yes, Allison didn’t like this plan at all. Couldn’t Scott stay with her? She could say he was a stray she picked up. She could get collars and leashes and everything. But no, wolves weren’t dogs, no matter how cuddly Scott seemed right now. They couldn’t risk him hurting someone. Besides, the wolf enclosure now had one less wolf in the pack, and that was bound to cause suspicion. This was the best way to keep the town panicking that a wolf had escaped.

Allison still looked hesitant. “But Scott’s coat is too light to mistake him for Derek. Are you sure people won’t notice?”

“Look, if there’s one thing I know, is that people will always ignore the odd and replace it with the logical.” Stiles put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure this will only take a couple of days, and Scott doesn’t seem too miserable right now. I bet he can’t even remember what happened.” They had already tried to communicate with wolfed out Scott, to pretty much no avail. “He’ll just chill with the rest of the pack for a while, that’s all. And then we’ll turn everyone back into their corrective species and it’ll be all good. You just have to tell Lydia that Scott’s got some horrible stomach bug or something, and won’t be in for a few days, okay?”

Allison nodded, steeling herself, her spine becoming straighter, her gaze reminding Stiles of the hawks she spent all her time training. “Of course. That’s the most logical plan, I can’t let my emotions cloud my judgement right now.” She took a deep breath. “Just... watch over him, okay? Make sure the other wolves don’t bully him or anything.”

Derek gave a dry chuckle from the corner of the table where he was still paging through the magic book. “I’m sure Isaac won’t let anything happen to him. He’s pretty much in love with the guy.”

Strangely, that didn’t seem to comfort Allison.

Stiles shot Derek a glare. “Yeah, I’m sure that they’ll all somehow know it’s him. Or something.” He scratched the back of his head and turned back to Allison. “Look, we’ll try it and see if anything happens. And Derek and I will be there to make sure to stop before anything gets out of hand. But it’s best we do it tomorrow, okay? Come in through the back before we officially open, and meet me at the enclosure, just after dawn.”

Allison nodded again. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Derek stood up, closing the book with a heavy thump. “Good. Then the best thing to do is to get some sleep so we’re not dead on our feet tomorrow.”

And that was when Stiles realized that Derek was going to have to sleep in his house tonight.

+++

“Okay, a few house rules,” Stiles announced as he threw his keys on the kitchen counter. “This is an apartment, so that means we have to be quiet. I do not want to explain to my neighbors why my overnight guest had the craving to suddenly howl at the moon.”

Derek ignored him in favor of opening the fridge.

“And, two, no eating food without asking me first! Dude!” He rushed over and snatched the leftover chinese from Derek’s hand. “I was saving that for breakfast!”

Derek snatched it back and went to grab a fork. “It’s the only thing that smells halfway decent, and I’m hungry.”

“Okay, jeez, fine- don’t eat it cold! Gross!” Stiles pulled a plate out, one of his few clean ones. “At least let me microwave it for you.”

Derek reluctantly gave up the container, still chewing through his mouthful of lo mein.

“Okay,” Stiles continued, the sound of the microwave filling the small kitchen space, “now I’m going to lend you some pajamas because no one should have to sleep in khaki pants.” Not even douches like you, he didn’t add. “And I guess we can wait for showers tomorrow night, we’ll have to work something out because I don’t get much hot water.” The microwave dinged done and he pulled out the plate. “Unless you’re up for sharing,” he added jokingly.

Suddenly Stiles felt Derek come up from behind, pressing himself close to Stiles’ back, causing him to freeze in place, the lo mein still hanging in the air. “Wouldn’t be too off putting,” Derek muttered into Stiles’ ear, eliciting a shiver. Their arms rubbed together as Derek went to grab the plate, backing off quickly to go sit at the counter.

Stiles took a moment to collect himself before turning around and exclaiming, “You just flirted with me!”

Derek frowned and put his fingers to his lips. “Neighbors, remember?”

“You-” Stiles caught himself and fiercely whispered, “You made fun of me back in the preserve and now you’re flirting with me? Dude, what the ever living hell?”

Derek shrugged. “I’m just trying to be reasonable. It’s not as though wolves have so much of a hang up on modesty as you humans do.”

“But- but with the touching!” Stiles arms started flailing as his pitch increased. “And the arms and the-”

“What, touching? I do that with everyone in my pack. Doesn’t mean I’m flirting with them.” Derek took another bite of lo mein. “Just because I’m a human doesn’t mean I’m going to play by your arbitrary rules. As long as we’re sharing a territory, we’re a pack.”

Stiles opened his mouth only to shut it once more. It was true that Derek talked and walked like a human, but that didn’t mean he was going to act like one. Touching, scenting, things like that, that was normal to wolves, no matter what implications it may have with humans. And, if Stiles was going to be perfectly honest, Derek was probably freaking out way more than his calm exterior suggested. Maybe playing pack would help ease him into being a human, no matter how (hopefully) short that time may be.

“Alright,” Stiles reasoned. “But warn me next time, okay? Just so I can brace myself.” His heart was still pounding against his chest. “And no muttering into my ear, okay?”

A smirk. “Weak spot?”

Stiles decided to ignore that, even if it was true. “And let’s get one thing straight.” He held out a pointed finger defiantly. “You are not my alpha!”

Derek didn’t even see fit to grace that with a reply.

But still, Stiles felt pretty proud of himself. He was actually handling this pretty well. The sourest of sourwolves had turned into a human, his best friend Scott was currently a wolf, and he and Allison were pretty much the only ones who knew about it and could try to reverse it. Though, hey, if there was anyone Stiles wanted on his team it was Allison, that chick was the definition of BAMF. And so he was feeling pretty good about himself as he finished brushing his teeth. Tomorrow they would patch things up for a temporary fix before going about solving the issue.

Well, he was feeling pretty pleased until he walked into his room and saw Derek stretched out on the bed with the covers covering his waist, and that was apparently the only thing covering him because the rest of him was wonderfully, gloriously, horribly naked.

To Stiles credit he only stared for a few moments before saying, “No. Oh, no no no. You get the couch, I am not giving up my bed to someone who usually sleeps on the ground.” He flicked his wrists. “Get off, come on. And please tell me you’re wearing the underwear I gave you.”

Derek just glared. “The pack sleeps together.”

“Well I’m not your pack! And humans don’t sleep together unless they’re going to, well, sleep together.” Stiles rubbed his eyes with lethargic palms. “Are you really going to make me do this? In my own house? In my own bed?”

Derek only raised an eyebrow in reply.

Stiles sighed. “Fine, fine, have it your way. I’m sure you’d just crawl onto the couch with me if I slept there. Move over. And I’m serious about the underwear.” He was glad that he had invested in a queen.

Derek scoffed and moved to the side, the covers lifting to show that he apparently didn’t find underwear to be necessary nighttime wear. Which, whatever, not like Stiles was exactly a shrinking violet over here, but at least he had the decency to wear pajamas when sharing a bed with someone who he wasn’t currently romantically involved in. But as long as Derek stayed on his side of the bed there really shouldn’t be any issues about that.

Which, really, Stiles should have known that was too much to wish for.

“Are you seriously cuddling be right now?” Stiles asked as Derek curled his arm around his waist and pressed in close. “Naked. I am being naked cuddled by a guy I’ve known all of a couple of hours. Which, admittedly, use to be a normal saturday night in la casa de Stiles, but usually after some-”

Derek covered Stiles mouth with his hand, because apparently that was becoming a thing now. “Do you ever shut up?”

Stiles yanked off the hand. “I don’t know, do you ever stay dressed?”

“Clothes are... I don’t like them,” Derek admitted with an impatient frown.

“Yeah, well usually I would be completely okay with you life choices if not for how awkward it’s making this whole sleeping arrangement.” He was trying very hard to ignore what he was guessing to be a truly impressive cock pressed against his thigh, because yeah, that was something that was happening. At least it wasn’t hard. “Besides, aren’t you usually covered in fur? You would think that some cotton would be paradise in comparison

Derek scoffed. “There is no comparison to your own skin and the unnatural need to cover your body because you’re somehow ashamed of how you look.”

“Well not all of us can be underwear models,” Stiles muttered crossly. “Or porn stars, given your evident lack of underwear at the moment.”

Silence hung in the air for a large stretch of time, and Stiles was sure Derek had gone to sleep before the wolf asked, “Are you ashamed of how you look?” His voice was lower now, the words vibrating in his chest, close enough that Stiles could feel it.

How did you respond to that? Apparently Stiles first instinct was to start blushing, a blotchy red that he knew would spread from his ears to his chest. So he decided that the best thing to do was to close his eyes and try to go to sleep. Thankfully, Derek wasn’t so much of a dick to call him on it. The wolf just settled down, his arm still curled around Stiles’ waist, their legs still pressed together. And, perhaps because of the adrenaline crash, or perhaps because it was so late, Stiles found himself quickly falling to sleep.

It definitely wasn’t because he felt warm, and loved, and safe or anything.

Chapter Text

If there was ever an unfounded fear, it was that Isaac was going to welcome wolf Scott with anything but enthusiastic yips and an obscene amount of face rubbing. Scott seemed to welcome both with mirrored gestures, and in that moment a true bromance was forged. Stiles couldn’t help but feel a little jealous to see them get along so quickly, and he had a feeling Allison felt the same way. Stiles had asked her to stay back while he and Derek introduced the wolves, and she leaned against the fence, looking lonely and forlorn. Not that there was much Stiles could do about that.

The other wolves were more hesitant. Scott bounded up to them, only to hop away as Erica snapped at his nose. Derek let out a growl, a low warning, his eyes flashing red once more. Erica and backed away with a small whine.

“Whoa,” Stiles said. “Your eyes turned red again dude. You gotta keep that in check.”

Derek had shifted his eye color after a bit of prodding from Stiles in the car that morning about how freaky they looked. The red had slowly receded into a hazel, and it definitely made Derek more believable as a regular human. Stiles was unsure how Derek had pulled it off. All Derek had said was that it was instinctual, that all he had to do was calm his mind and will them to change. It seemed more on the edge of magic than anything else, sort of like Derek’s healing leg. What other sort of super powers did the guy have hidden?

“Can you still control them?” Stiles asked, Erica now unhappily taking Scott’s enthusiastic administrations. Boyd was sniffing cautiously, but Stiles knew that the wolf was used to enthusiastic puppies in the pack. “I don’t even know how they recognize you. Do you still smell the same?”

“No,” Derek admitted. “I smell like pack, perhaps, but not like I did before. I think it’s another... change. From what I was.” His frown deepened. “I don’t know what exactly it is.”

“Instinct?” Stiles guessed.

Derek gave a curt nod.

“Well, I guess we’ll roll with the punches then.” Stiles nodded towards Allison. “Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

Don’t ask him why, but Stiles hadn’t even thought that anyone would find it weird that Derek was eating with the other employees before Danny turned to him and asked, “Who’s the new guy?”

Stiles head shot up, his mouth full of pancakes. His gaze twitched towards Derek, still at the buffet and piling scrambled eggs and sausages into his plate. He swallowed. “Oh, him? That’s my, uh, cousin. Miguel.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. “What, is it bring your cousin to work day or something?”

And, thank god, that was when Allison decided to cut in with, “Didn’t you hear? We’re doing an employee switch program. I thought I had sent out an email weeks ago.”

“I didn’t get it,” Danny admitted. “Did my name glitch out of the listserv again or something?”

“Oh my gosh, actually, you know what? I may have forgotten to send it.” She smacked her head. “I feel like an idiot, sorry! We’re actually switching employees with another preserve. Scott took off last night, and Derek arrived this morning. He’ll be working with Stiles and the wolves.”

Allison deserved all the awards. This was way better than telling everyone Scott had a stomach bug. Not only that, it allowed Stiles to keep an eye on Derek while at work, no questions asked. He hadn’t really thought about it, but leaving Derek alone in the apartment all day to watch daytime television? Yeah, so wasn’t going to happen, not if Derek was half as stubborn as a human as he was a wolf.

Derek sat down next to Stiles uncomfortably close, their knees and elbows touching. Without a word he began to shovel eggs into his mouth, staring forward into the wall. Obviously a social butterfly in the making here.

Danny, though obviously a bit taken aback, was as charming as ever. Didn’t hurt that Derek was handsome enough to get away with being a douche. “Hello, my name’s Danny,” he greeted with a dimpled smile. Why did Stiles know so many dimpled people anyway? He was starting to get a complex. “I didn’t even know Stiles had a cousin, much less one that was into wolves like him. Welcome to the team.” He put out a hand to shake over Stiles’ plate.

Stiles inwardly flailed. He did not need Derek growling or biting or saying something stupid and blowing his cover. But right as Stiles was about to say something about being a germaphobe (which, in hindsight, was a pretty stupid claim to make about someone who worked with wild animals for a living), Derek surprised him.

“Good to be here.” Derek gave Danny’s hand a professional shake, neither hesitant nor particularly warm. “I look forward to working with you. What animals do you oversee?”

Danny’s smiled brightened, because that was apparently possible. “Big cats are my specialty.”

Derek nodded and gave a friendly smile in return. “I suppose I can try to look past that so we can still be friends.”

Stiles nearly spit out his orange juice. Was Derek flirting with Danny now? Seriously, what had he created

Danny’s grin quirked into a smirk. “That’s fine. I’m best friends with the guy who runs the reptile house, and he’s not nearly as slimy as he first seems.”

“I resent that,” grumbled Jackson as he took a seat. “Reptiles are not slimy. That’s a horrible misconception.”

“Has Lydia come in yet?” asked Allison, biting the edge of her lip.

“What, suddenly we’re back together again?” Jackson snorted. “Hell do I know.”

Danny put a companionable hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yeah Allison, best ask him next week when they get back together.” He glanced at the door. “Speak of the devil in prada, I think she just came in.”

Allison stood up with, her legs bumping against her tray with a clang. “Lydia!” She moved towards the woman, her movements mechanical and jerky. Lydia raised a meticulously shaped brow, but didn’t say a word as Allison took her arm and began to whisper quickly to her. Her nose crinkled as she listened, and simply muttered something with an affirmative nod. They walked out together.

“What was that about?” asked Jackson. As always, he hated to be out of the loop.

Stiles shrugged. “Lady things?” He went to take the last chunk of his pancakes, only to find the tray raising up to meet him, pulled away by Derek as he stood up.

“Let’s go,” Derek demanded, pulling back his chair. “We should check on the scratch on Derek’s leg.”

Stiles opened his mouth to ask, what scratch, why are you talking in third person, why are you being mean and taking my pancakes away- before quickly shutting it and giving a professional nod. “Of course.” He swiped the pancake chunk as they walked to the trash cans, licking the syrup off his fingers, ignoring Derek’s pointed look.

“Allison asked Lydia to speak to her privately, and that it was urgent,” Derek said quietly as soon as they were outside. “Lydia suggested they go to the Operations Center.”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Stiles’ eyes widened. “Wait, dude.” He pulled against the man’s sleeve, forcing him to stop walking. “Did you hear it?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Your cousin? Really? And I suppose I’m stuck with the name Miguel, though I don’t know why I couldn’t just be Derek.”

“Oh no, I am not going to start up that slew of jokes,” Stiles grumbled darkly as he proceeded to walk again, heading towards the Operations Center.

“What jokes?”

“Okay then, let’s just bring up every insignificant detail of my life ever. Want to know about what I plan to eat for lunch? First date? Best meal of my life?”

“You’re dodging,” Derek was quick to point out, derailing Stiles with two curt words.

“Okay, fine, fine! You’re obviously not going to let this go- it’s a stupid joke, okay? Because it took me so long to make you like me.” Stiles wasn’t afraid to admit that he was avoiding eye contact, because damn, this was embarrassing, okay?

“Didn’t seem all that long to me.”

Stiles met his eyes then, only to catch Derek’s shrug. “What? Are you serious? It took me weeks dude, before you would even let me in the stupid enclosure without trying to rip my throat out. With your teeth. Do you know how many treats I had to go through? Hell, it was only a few days ago that you let me put on a freaking collar!”

“In my defense, you were a strange human who I had no knowledge about, encroaching on an entirely new environment that I was trying to establish as my territory. Not only that, I had a duty to protect my pack.” Derek gave a brief pause before adding, “And that collar is too tight, I don’t like it.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say to that. Perhaps it was just too logical to really argue against. And, yes, Stiles had realized all that when he was first trying to get Derek to like him. Didn’t make the process any less tedious.

“Okay, then answer me this wolfman. Why did you like me more than Scott?” It was something that he had always been curious about. Him and Scott had pretty much the same training regime, the same methods with working with the wolves. But there was no denying that Derek from the get go had preferred Stiles to handle him.

And Derek, to his credit, didn’t even hesitate. “I liked your voice more.”

“Oh.” And Stiles really didn’t know how to respond to that.

+++

Lydia rolled her eyes as soon as they walked into the Operations Center. “I knew you were in love with the guy, but to go so far as turn him human?” She crossed her arms. “I hope you don’t expect me to ever let you live this down.”

Stiles groaned and turned to his betrayer. “Why, Allison? Of all the people, why did you tell Lydia?”

“Like you really expect me to have believed this whole transferring nonsense. Who do you think would be the one to set that up? Buy the tickets? Communicate with the other preserve?” Lydia’s nails clanked against her bracelets. “Did you really expect Allison to be able to pull the wool over my eyes?”

“Exactly.” Allison matched Lydia with crossed arms and insulted look, directed straight to Stiles. “Do you really think I would just go about telling people without a good reason? Besides, maybe Lydia could help us. She’s already volunteered to try to translate your magic book.”

Stiles did not appreciate Derek’s smirk as he silently pulled out the book. The spell page was already bookmarked with the page of translations he had written out the night before. “This is what I said- I mean, not to say that I knew what I was doing, but yeah, this is it.”

Lydia took the book and began to scan the page quietly as Stiles explained everything he and Derek had figured out the night before. He added the extra details of Derek’s ability to shift his eye color and heal, and that he had no idea what the language even was, much less how to translate it.

“It’s ancient Latin,” Lydia declared.

Everyone stared at her.

“What?” She shrugged. “I got bored with regular Latin.”

“Lydia, I’m serious this time, marry me.” At this point Stiles was ready to get to his knees and bow at her glory. “You can actually translate this?”

“Not at the drop of a hat. It’s been a few years since I picked it up in high school, but I have a few dictionaries still at home. It may take a few days...” Lydia pointed towards one of the translations. “There is a word here though that I know for a fact this blue pen person translated wrong. See, here they wrote down friend, but that’s wrong. It actually means soldier.”

“Soldier?” Derek’s fist clenched.

“I’m not sure in what context, but yes.” Lydia sighed. “Well it seems that it is, once again, up to me to fix other people’s messes.” She gave Stiles a pointed look. “You know you’ll be in my debt forever when this is all through, right?”

“Forever at your mercy,” Stiles promised, nodding enthusiastically.

Derek only scoffed.

+++

“Did you put Erica’s collar on tight enough?” Stiles asked as he adjusted Boyd’s. “Shes been known to try to run off stage before, so make sure you keep a firm grip on her leash.”

“This is degrading,” Derek muttered as he stood up, Erica seated moodily at his feet. “I have to go in front of a group of brats and parade my betas around like they’re something to put on display. Remind me of why I have to do this with you again?”

Stiles stood up as well, hands fisted on his hips. “One, because me and Scott always did it together, and two, we need two wolves on stage so we can contrast and compare during one of the segments.” He gave Boyd a scratch behind the ears, which was met with a stoic allowance. “These two are always popular because they’re mates, and so we can do the whole mating for life spiel. The audience always eats that little fact right up.”

“Why? Don’t humans do much of the same?”

“I mean, in an idealized world, yeah.” Stiles thought briefly of his own parents, of how his father still wore his wedding ring to this day. He quickly shook off the thought. “But I suppose that’s why humans like the idea so much, because it’s one of the epitomes of romance. It’s also an oddity in the animal world, and it makes wolves seem more human.”

An eyeroll. “I don’t take that as a particular compliment.”

“Well I’m not going to keep arguing about this! You work here now, so you have to do as I say! And I say that you’re going to do this show, okay?” Stiles had worked it all out. This way Isaac would stay with Scott so he didn’t get lonely, and Derek would stay with Stiles so he could keep an eye on the guy. Win-win situation, no arguments, no fighting back.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to talk much,” Derek finally conceded with a grumble.

“Just follow my cue, alright? Do that and nothing can go wrong.”

Things quickly went wrong.

Stiles was not sure when Isaac had gained a freaking fanclub, but there were several children who kept interrupting the show to ask where he was, if he was going to be in the later show, if he was sick or something, they didn’t want to hear about Boyd and Erica, they wanted Isaac. He had never realized how Scott had always made sure to have Isaac in the earlier show until now, which made sense because that usually had a larger portion of children.

Stiles form of placating the younger crowd was apparently too ineffective for Derek, because after awhile he barked out, “Children should keep their mouths shut and listen.”

That definitely did the trick of shutting the kids up. Stiles wasn’t sure it was worth the tradeoff of all the glares the parents were giving them now, though.

“Excuse my friend,” Stiles said with a professional smile, his voice amplified by his headset. “He was raised by wolves, so he’s not really used to dealing with humans yet.”

The adults gave a tense chuckle, but the children’s eyes seemed to light right up.

“What was that like?” asked a little girl with curly pigtails.

Stiles stomach sank, and he glanced at Derek with a warning look to behave for once.

“What, being raised by wolves?” Derek scratched his chin, considering it for a moment. “Difficult.”

“Why?” asked another little girl, her white dressed stained by chocolate.

“Because I had to sleep on the ground all the time, and hunt for my own food. Not the cushy lives you guys get to live with ice cream and xboxes.” Derek was smiling now, and he sounded like he was... well, joking. Like he was playing pretend. Which was really weird, because Stiles knew he wasn’t.

And that was when the questions came pouring in, and the Beacon Hill’s Preserve’s wolf presentation quickly became a personal Q & A special on the man raised by wolves.

“Did you wear clothes?”

A scoff. “No, of course not. Where would I get them? Who would make them for me?”

That got a chorus of giggles before someone else asked “Weren’t you ever cold though?”

“I had a really big pack. We would all sleep together, so it wasn’t ever too cold.” Derek flashed a grin. “I always ended up near the bottom of the pile.”

Even the adults were chuckling now. One even joined in by asking, “How did you get your name then? Did the wolves name you Miguel?”

Derek seemed a bit stumped at that one.

“No, he picked it out of a book of baby names the game warden gave him,” Stiles supplied. “It was really lucky of him that the warden was nice enough to tell him that Susie wasn’t the best fit.”

“Susie!” the children cried out, nearly in hysterics.

Stiles returned Derek’s glare with a bright smile.

The questions kept pouring in. What was his favorite food? (Steak.) His favorite color? (Black.) Which wolf did he like the best? (He liked them all equally, which really, was such a political answer.)

And this went on for a few more minutes before a young mother with a carriage besides her asked, “Did you ever fall in love?”

For the first time Derek physically hesitated, jerking back like he had just been punched in the chest. Everyone grew quiet. He looked down, his frown pensive, his shoulders tightening just a fraction. “Yeah...” He admitted, his voice oddly soft, oddly sad. “But it didn’t go well.”

“Well that’s all the time we have for today!” Stiles announced loudly, flinging his arms upwards. “Make sure to check out our later show if you’re still in the preserve, posted outside the theater!” With a wave he took a hold of Derek’s sleeve and tugged it, forcing the man to follow. In truth they had several minutes to go, but Derek eyes looked empty, and it make Stiles chest constrict to see him look so lost.

“Dude, what was that about?” Stiles asked as they walked to the wolf enclosure, Boyd and Erica easily keeping pace with their quick steps.

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted, his voice hollow. “I don’t remember.”

“Why are you getting upset if you don’t remember?” Stiles knew he sounded annoyed, but he couldn’t help it. What kind of trigger had that question pulled?

“It’s like I don’t want to remember. Like it’s in the back of my mind, but it’s too horrible to let out.”

Stiles opened his mouth to snark about how, of all the wolves he had to turn human, he got the one with freaky suppressed memories. The words caught at his throat when he saw just how vulnerable Derek looked, shoulder slouched forward, hands stuffed in his pocket. Erica gave a low whine and nosed his leg in comfort, and Derek returned the favor by patting her head. Stiles felt himself at a loss as to how to follow her lead.

“Well... hey, don’t worry about it then, okay? Next show we do will be strictly by the book. We barely got to the whole mating thing today.” And then there is was, that question that had stuck to the back of Stiles’ mind since he first realized that Derek was the alpha. And yeah, perhaps now wasn’t the best time to ask, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. Still, his voice was soft when he asked, “Do you think that it has something to do why you didn’t take Erica as a mate?”

Derek looked down at Erica in surprise, as if noticing her for the first time. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re the alpha. Alphas usually take mates, right? But Erica’s mate is Boyd, so I was just...” Stiles scratched the back of his head. “I was just curious, I guess. As to why that was. Do you think that’s what the memory is?”

Derek shook his head. “I don’t know. But it feels like it’s something I’m glad I can’t remember.”

Stiles clutched his hand against his chest, and he knew exactly what Derek meant by that.

+++

If Stiles ever had to give a piece of advice to anyone, it would be to never play gay chicken with a werewolf turned human. Or, well, Stiles was technically bi, so did this even count as gay chicken? Perhaps some sort of weird sexual chicken, and wow, that was a weird combination of words right there.

The point was, if Stiles had to give advice to anyone it would be to never play sexual chicken with a wolf turned human.

Because that was just what Stiles had somehow done as soon as they came home. It had all started with Stiles announcing he was going to take a shower and Derek decided that was a cue to follow him into the bathroom. And then Stiles had to explain that, no, this was something that he had to do alone, and Derek had said that no, showering was something that two people could do together. And then Stiles had pointed out that, traditionally, it was an activity done one person at a time, and call him a traditionalist but he was going to keep it that way. And then Derek had asked if Stiles was embarrassed.

No, Stiles wasn’t embarrassed. He was just a freaking normal human being, who wanted some privacy when showering.

Well, why did he mind if Derek joined him? Did all humans have such hang ups about their bodies? Besides, hadn’t Stiles said that his apartment got pitifully little hot water? Derek wasn’t about to take a cold shower, so they might as well shower together.

Stiles had said that, yes, he did mind, but no, he didn’t have a hang up, and urgh, it was true about the limited hot water, but really, Derek would just wait a bit, and Stiles really didn’t appreciate Derek smirking at him, and fine, fine, fine, if he was going to be such a baby about it, Derek could take a shower with him.

Which, oddly enough, resulted in Derek taking a shower with him. Funny how life worked like that.

Not that there was anything funny about it, how Derek was currently naked and Stiles was currently naked and they were currently in the shower. And Stiles was currently, well, freaking the hell out, because he wasn’t sure how this was his life right now. And yeah, Stiles had dated, but underwear models/porn stars were just not his general go to guy, so it was understandable that he was a bit embarrassed, especially given that he wasn’t even dating the one currently in his shower.

“Dude!” Stiles yelped as Derek started rubbing soapy hands on his shoulders. He had taken the position of staring at the shower head because he was not going to give into the temptation of ogling at every slick ounce of toned skin Derek was currently putting on display now. He turned his head back to glare. “Personal space!”

“I’m just helping you wash your back,” Derek muttered as he concentrated on the task at hand. Speaking of hands, his was currently going lower, rubbing circles into Stiles’ shoulder blades, tracing lightly against his spine, moving down to his tailbone...

No. This couldn’t be his life. This was the beginning of a porno. Stiles should know- actually, he had probably watched this one before. When had his life turned into gay porn? Some sort of magical, young adult novel version of a gay porn. Who was even writing this script? Who the fuck would make this so fucking cliche?

Stiles snorted, ignoring the goosebumps and warm heat radiating from the bottom of his stomach. “Yeah, right. And you wanted to shower with me so that we can save on hot water. And you wanted to sleep naked in my freaking bed because that’s what packs do. Right, there is absolutely no ulterior motive here at all.”

Derek was silent for a beat before he leaned forward and whispered into Stiles’ ear, “Guess you caught me.”

Stiles nearly slipped as he spun around, only saved by splaying an arm against the tiled wall and Derek grabbing his waist. Suddenly his mouth felt very dry, despite his surroundings being very wet. “Wh-what?”

Okay, so Stiles had said all that, but in reality he had sort of expected that this was all wolf type craziness. That Derek was just emulating things he had done as a wolf, and that human customs just seemed stupid to him. He had no idea that this was... that this was...

Derek’s eyes glinted dangerously. “You caught me. I’m actually trying to seduce you.”

Stiles could feel his face grow hot as he pushed against Derek’s chest. “Let me go, you bastard. I don’t need you messing with me. I am way too stressed out right now.”

Derek contemplated this for a moment, rubbing his hands against Stiles’ hips in a way that was, at the very least, distracting, lazily rolling his eyes up and down Stiles’ frame. And there was no way that Stiles was going to admit how his cock twitched in interest, or how he could feel his pulse quicken, or how much he hoped that Derek wasn’t messing with him, that Derek really did want to seduce him- which was stupid, really, because the man was, at the core of things, a wolf, an animal, a beast who was only going on instinct and some few borrowed human facts.

“What if I wasn’t?” Derek asked in low voice, almost a grumble. His eyes were now staring fixedly into Stiles’ wide, brown ones.

“Wasn’t what?” Stiles asked, licking his lips besides the fact they were already wet from the showerhead, forgetting the feeling of the warm water in favor of Derek’s very warm hands.

“Messing with you?” Derek’s eyes flashed red, and Stiles wasn’t sure what that meant, or why it elicited a shiver from him. “What if I was being completely serious? Who knows how long I’m going to be in this human body. Maybe I want to see all it has to offer before giving it up.”

And suddenly Stiles felt... better. Better, because this was something he could handle, this was something that made sense. This was sex. It was instinct, desire, need, it was something that the animal kingdom always had, and always would. This was Derek wanting to get laid, and Stiles being a warm body that could help him get to that goal.

Stiles scoffed. “Please. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to seduce me anytime soon, buddy.” It wasn’t like he had exactly been a prude in his past, but Stiles had a little sense of standards. He wasn’t really a one night stand kind of guy, more of a sex prelude to a possible relationship kind of guy. There was no way he was going to bone Derek when he was going to take a one way ticket (hopefully soon) back to wolf-body city.

Derek tilted his head, and looked... damn, he looked adorably confused. Like a freaking puppy. “But you want me,” Derek muttered, leaning in close, closer, his face inches from Stiles. “You reek of arousal. I can smell it on you.”

And apparently Derek could smell emotions, which was exactly what Stiles needed right now. Next the guy would be able to tell a lie from an uptick of a heart or something. “Just because my dick’s interested doesn’t mean the rest of me is.” And that wasn’t even a lie. “Don’t think so highly of yourself. I haven’t been that desperate to get laid since freshmen year of college, all right?”

Derek just stared intensely, like Stiles was a beta who could somehow be forced into submission. Stiles just stared right back, raising an incredulous brow. Really? Derek thought that would work?

Apparently not though, because a few moments later Derek was climbing out of the tub, grabbing a towel. “I’ll get back in when you’re finished,” he said, sounding grumpier than usual as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

Stiles wasn’t sure if he could count that as a victory, but he did feel quite smug as he began to wash his hair.

Chapter Text

It only took a little over a week for the wolves to begin to miss Derek. They would mope and snuffle their noses, curling up in little balls at night. It was obviously that human Derek was just not cutting the bill. The only one who remained obliviously happy was Scott, who was visited regularly by his growingly concerned girlfriend. She could never stay for very long, and the few times she did Isaac began to growl at her.

Stiles didn’t have to talk to ask Derek how he felt about his betas missing him. Every time the man heard them whine or saw their heads droop he would look lost, not knowing what to do or how to convey that he was right there, that he was still watching over them. For some reason it caused Stiles anxiety to see how gutted the man was.

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles told him one afternoon, a few days into working together. Lydia had claimed that she was still brushing up on her ancient Latin, and that the pieces she had scrambled together so far didn’t make much sense without proper context.

A glare. “I know. It’s yours.”

“Whoa there! I’m just trying to freaking comfort you dude, no need to get all defensive on me.” Stiles wiped some sweat off his brow with an irritated hand. “Besides, not every wolf gets an opportunity to be human for a while. Why don’t you, oh, I don’t know, learn to enjoy it a bit?”

“I tried,” Derek muttered, stalking off to grab some collars for the show.

Stiles could feel his ears grow red. He knew exactly what Derek was referring to.

After the wolf show, which seemed to go better with each day no matter how wooden Derek’s performance, Stiles decided that they could both use some relaxation. It was hard to watch Derek volunteer for every night shift, as if spending more time at the preserve could help with his beta’s distress. Even harder to watch when Stiles was forced to take the night shift too, since he was Derek’s ride home. So he put his foot down and exclaimed that they were going to eat out for once, and that Derek was going to drop the grumpy facade and relax for once in his freakin life.

Of course that didn’t happen, but you can’t blame a guy for trying.

Stiles decided that they would eat at the local diner, and tried to encourage Derek to eat things that he hadn’t been able to try in la casa de Stiles. Only no, not that, that was way too greasy to do anything but clog arteries upon entry. And no, not that either, couldn’t Derek at least attempt a vegetable or two? Yes, this one, and Derek should get a salad instead of soup because-

“Why do you care so damn much what I eat?” Derek asked with an exasperated glower.

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up. “Oh, sorry I didn’t... Uh, I guess it’s habit? I usually eat out with my dad, so I immediately go full blown health nazi with dining selection.”

Derek shoved the menu up and muttered about nosy sons who didn’t let their fathers run their own lives.

Stiles opened his mouth to defend himself, to start going off about doctor reports and statistics of heart risk among middle aged men, only to shut it again. To explain about his obsession over his father’s health required explanations of other factors, factors that Stiles wasn’t quite wanting to bring up right now. So all he said was, “If you throw up on my carpet you’re going to have to clean it up. I’m not going to just stick your nose in it.”

Though the menu obscured his face, Stiles was sure that Derek was rolling his eyes.

Dinner passed pretty calmly, discussion leaning towards the wolves and how they were doing. Stiles had been hoping that Derek would be able to give him some insider information about wolf dynamics and perhaps some of the more pressing concerns about individuals in the pack, but Derek had turned out to have a complete and utter mental block about his time as a wolf.

“Seems odd, that you wouldn’t be able to remember anything.” Stiles slurped some of his milkshake before adding, “Wolves are able to remember things. Hunting grounds and members of the pack and stuff like that. Why don’t you at least remember that?”

Derek jabbed his ice cream sundae as if it had done him personal grievance. “I told you, I don’t know. All I remembered was that I was the alpha and they were my pack. I think the only reason I knew their names was because of your memories.”

“Yeah, but you don’t remember other details of my life. Why did you know about yourself then? What counts as general knowledge and what counts as personal? Like, you don’t know that I was concerned with my dad’s health, but you seem to know what clogged arteries were. Where’s the line?”

A shrug. “What does it matter? I’ll be a wolf again soon.”

Something in Stiles stomach twisted at the mention of it. “Okay, yeah, right. I guess it’s just for my own sake of curiosity.” Stiles’ milkshake had gotten too thick to suck down with a straw, so he began to scoop it up with his spoon. He decided to change topic. “How do you like human cuisine, by the way? Way better than the chow we give you at the preserve, I’m betting.”

A scowl. “Just because you humans are so finicky about your food doesn’t mean it’s better.” Derek thought on it a moment. “Though I have to say, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of fresh, warm kill in your mouth, blood dripping down your muzzle...”

“Gah!” Stiles nearly gagged. “That is definitely not dinner time conversation. And I thought you couldn’t remember stuff as a wolf!”

Derek gave him a mischievous smile. “It comes and goes.”

+++

Derek still slept in the same bed as Stiles, naked as ever with an almost stubborn grumpiness. Stiles decided to ignore it, because after all he was fully dressed in decent pajamas. It was almost a relief to know that Derek wanted him- it sure did take a lot of the mystery out of everything. Derek just wanted to sex him up, that was all.

Wait. Derek wanted to sex him up. A week and a half into the whole ordeal, and suddenly the thought came like a personal epiphany.

Okay, so, let’s rewind a bit here. In the shower Stiles had had every reason to deny Derek. Yes, it was quite true that Stiles didn’t really do one night stands, at least not anymore. And yes, it was true that it had been more than a bit satisfying to put Derek in his place by denying him. But there was something that Stiles hadn’t really thought of in the shower, and now as he laid in bed, facing up to darkness of the ceiling, Derek’s warm arm wrapped around his torso in a clingy neediness, he realized it. He really, really wanted to have sex with Derek.

One glance at Derek’s pale face, made paler by the moon’s illumination through the window blinds, showed that there was definitely a factor of pure, unadulterated physical attraction. And though Stiles had only known the wolf-turned-man for less than two weeks (at least in human form), Derek had a dry, quick wit that Stiles couldn’t help but be drawn to. It was enough attraction to warrant a bit of flirting if they had met at a bar, or even exchanging numbers after a round of conversation. And it was obvious after the shower scene that the feeling was at least somewhat mutual.

And then Stiles asked himself something he had never thought of before. Why did Derek want to be a wolf again?

…

Stiles had nothing on that one.

Okay, so he had a few guesses. He was Stiles, he would always have some theory in the back of his mind. One was that Derek was the alpha of a pack, and may feel an obligation to remain with them. Another was that Derek had simply not thought about it, and that he was just going with an instinct. Or perhaps he didn’t like all the complicatedness that came with humanity, because Stiles knew just how complicated that feeling could be, all the brightness and despair. All the hellos and goodbyes. Perhaps it was better to be a wolf, perhaps it was scary to be a human.

But how was he suppose to ask Derek that?

The thought remained though, and it was obvious that there was no getting around it. Stiles instinctually knew that as long as Derek was set on becoming a wolf again, they couldn’t have a physical relationship. But, even as he rationalized it, even as he resolved himself to the fact, he couldn’t really understand exactly why that was.

Afterall, Derek wasn’t human. There wasn’t going to be any weird awkwardness when he turned back into a wolf, though maybe a bit on Stiles part. The guy wouldn’t even remember most likely, just like Scott didn’t remember anything. Maybe Stiles could make an exception, just this once? Give Derek the true human experience, all the bells and whistles. It wasn’t like Stiles ended up dating everyone he slept with. Sometimes things just kind of fell apart, and that was okay. But somehow Stiles still couldn’t bring himself to shake Derek awake, to demand that they just do the deed there and now.

And the worst part of it all was that Stiles just didn’t know exactly why.

+++

From that point on Stiles made it his mission to show Derek the finer things in human life. Took him to eat all the best things in town (within budgetary reason), went window shopping in main street (real shopping was a bit out of the question), made playlists of every song he could think of (he made a special one just on the theme of wolves, much to Derek’s dislike). It wasn’t, absolutely wasn’t, anything like dates. Not at all. Where did you even get that idea? It was just Stiles trying to show Derek around and get a little sense of what it meant to be human. And if Derek just so happened to decide that he did enjoy being a human? That he didn’t want to turn back into a wolf? Well, that would just be a coincidence of fate.

Only that didn’t happen. Derek barred all of these things with easy nonchalance. He begrudgingly admitted when things tasted good, he only pointed out things in stores he thought Stiles would like, and he would only agree that a song was ‘okay’ or ‘listenable’ upon hearing it, and only after Stiles would directly ask. There was only one thing in which Derek showed any true interest in, and that was movies. And Stiles had to admit that Derek’s running commentary seemed to bring new life into old favorites.

“Who’s the alpha?” Derek asked one night as they sat on the couch, leaning against each other. It was almost a natural thing to do at this point, giving Derek’s lack of any sense of personal space. Stiles was getting used to it. And perhaps... perhaps, if only to himself, he could admit that he was starting to enjoy it.

“What do you mean?” Stiles pointed to the screen, his head snuggled into Derek’s chest. He could feel the movement of every inhale and exhale. “That’s Captain America and that’s Iron Man-”

“I know who they are, I just don’t know who’s the alpha. You said the Avengers were like a pack. But which one of them is the alpha?” Derek’s hand was rubbing up against Stiles arm lightly, something that he claimed was scent marking, apparently an important aspect of being pack.

Stiles closed his eyes against the comforting feeling of Derek’s warm hand. He felt like a lazy cat that was being petted. Not that he was complaining. “Neither. They actually fight a lot about who leads, and then there’s this huge arc in the comics about them having a civil war-”

“But how do they do anything then? A pack needs an alpha to succeed.” Derek sounded very certain of this, his idle hand moving up to scratch along Stiles’ hair, right along the temple.

Stiles shrugged as he sagged further into Derek. “Maybe in wolf land, but in human world it’s not quite so clean cut. “

“Well it should be,” Derek resolutely decided, his nails dragging through Stiles’ short locks. “Then they wouldn’t be arguing all the time. It makes everything too... messy.”

Stiles snickered. “Welcome to humanity. Everything is messy.”

“Well that will be just another thing I’ll be glad to get rid of.”

Stiles tensed all at once, his eyes flickering open. He suddenly felt a sense of panic, his lungs tight, his muscles bunching up.

“What’s wrong?” Derek’s voice was suddenly gentle, the way it was when Boyd was grumpier than usual about getting his leash on or when trying to calm down Erika after Isaac had just nipped her tail. His hands moved down to Stiles’ chest, stroking just over the heart.

“Uh, bathroom.” Stiles’ sprang out of couch, suddenly aware of how he had practically draped himself on Derek’s lap. How had that happened? When had he turned from complaining about every odd touch and rub to practically begging to be petted? “Just watch the movie, okay?”

He rushed to the bathroom, suddenly very glad that Derek could not sense a lie.

+++

“A protector?” Stiles echoed, his voice incredulous.

Lydia’s look turned sharp. “Yes. It’s pretty explicitly stated, if you had bothered to read the directions.”

He circled his hands. “And what exactly does that entail?”

“That the spell is used to create a warrior, obviously.” She flicked back a lock of her strawberry-blonde hair. “It’s not a spell for desperate and lonely people to get some, if that’s what you were going for.”

“I’m not-”

“How do we reverse it?” Derek cut in, his voice impatient.

“I was getting to that part.” The stubborn set in Lydia’s lip didn’t falter, no matter how much Derek glared. It would take more than a super soldier wolfman to make her falter. “The reasoning behind the spell isn’t exactly a nice thing. It’s suppose to be used to create someone who will protect the caster. Which Stiles somewhat bunched by not casting a binding spell afterwards, but no matter. He still got you.”

“Binding spell?” Allison asked, nervously wringing her hands.

Lydia turned the page of the book, revealing more text and an intricate rune. “It was suppose to force Derek to obey Stiles in all things, and to feel compelled to protect him. That, paired with the fact that he didn’t know anything about his past life, would have made him completely dependent on the caster.”

“Damn,” Stiles muttered, “that would have come in handy...”

Three questioning sets of eyebrows were directed towards him.

“Never mind.”

“Well you’re lucky you didn’t, because the book doesn’t tell me how to reverse that,” Lydia quickly admonished. “And to be honest, it doesn’t tell me how to reverse the transformation spell either. It may be in another part of the book, but that could take me months to figure out.”

“Months?” Allison stood up, the chair grating behind her. “My parents are coming back in a few weeks, and Scott’s mom is only going to buy the fact that Scott has laryngitis for so long-”

Lydia placed a calming hand on Allison’s shoulder. “Allison, you’ve known me for how many years? You really think I wouldn’t figure a way out of this? The answer is, of course, obvious once you think about it. We just have to do the spell again, only this time in reverse.”

“Of course!” Stiles excalimed. “Why didn’t I think of that? Scott had to turn into a wolf for Derek to turn human, so in order to turn Scott into a human-” The words stuck in his throat.

“I have to turn into a wolf.” Derek nodded curtly. “Makes sense. Let’s do it.”

Lydia gave an exasperated sigh. “If you would let me finish, I could tell you why that won’t work, at least not without some preparation. That is, if you’re interested in not interrupting me.”

Stiles was about to give the affirmative before he felt Derek’s hand wrap around his mouth. He looked up to see the man give him a warning glare, and swallowed his words before Derek released his mouth.

Lydia pursed her lips. “The spell says here, ‘a brother given freely to the wild.’ ” She pointed out the line of text. “But brother isn’t exactly what it means. It’s a close enough translation that it worked for Stiles’ purposes, but it basically translates to ‘bonded one.’ ” She tapped the word once. “Because Stiles and Scott were bonded by brotherhood, or a very close friendship that mimicked one, the phrasing was okay. But without that bond the sacrifice will be incomplete.”

“How horrible,” Allison whispered, her face ashen. “The spell only works with someone you’ve grown to love so deeply. Doesn’t that seem too big a cost?”

“From what I’ve gathered the bond doesn’t have to be mutual, just felt on the sacrifice’s side. Apparently wizards are douchebags, because in further instructions it says that the sacrificed must be charmed.” Lydia glanced up at the men with a poison smile. “In other words, I believe that standard protocol is... seduction.” She let the word slide from her lips like a cold caress.

Stiles was suddenly all too aware of how close Derek was standing behind him. He coughed discreetly into his fist. “And what, exactly, does that entail?”

“Well, there’s just one surefire way I can figure out, to make sure the spell works during the full moon next week, and we can avoid the whole messy scenario of being found out.” Lydia seemed to be taking some sick pleasure from all this, like a cat with a bloodied mouse between her paws.

Stiles glanced up at Derek, and the man met his gaze with a calculated stare. They both knew what Lydia was getting at.

“Don’t worry Stiles,” she quipped. “I’ll keep the beasiality jokes to a minimal.”

Chapter Text

“Derek, Derek, fuck,” Stiles panted, his brow pearled with sweat. His head clanked against the headboard as his back arched, his legs spread wide for Derek’s fingers as they moved within him. “Where did you learn this? Definitely not from me, I never-”

“Stiles,” Derek growled, nipping along the man’s taut stomach. “If you don’t shut up I’ll give your mouth something better to do.” His tongue swirled against Stiles’ navel with a thick stroke.

Stiles gave a breathless chuckle as he shut his eyes. “Maybe we should save that for the next round.” Because who knew how many times they would have to do this to get a proper bond. And Stiles, well, he was just starting to realize how much a problem that wasn’t going to be, the nervous tension leaving his shoulders as he lost himself to Derek’s touch.

---

“You’re nervous,” Derek had said when they came home, sitting on Stiles’ bed

Stiles paced back and forth, the floor creaking slightly under his bare feet, biting his thumb. He snorted. “You think? I was just told we had to have to bang each other in order to turn Scott into a human.”

“And me into a wolf,” Derek added gruffly.

Stiles waved a flippant hand, suddenly feeling his tension spike, a thudding tempo of his pulse that seemed to flood his ears. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, the point is we gotta do the nasty and as soon as possible, and you know, I’m just kind of not comfortable with that decision being taken out of my hands.” Or the fact that Lydia, of all people, was the one who came out with the idea.

Derek shrugged. “If you can think of a better way...” He waited a moment, allowing Stiles’ silence to fill the room before saying, “Then I suppose it would be best to get over with it.” He started to strip off his shirt.

“Whoa! Whoa there!” Stiles flailed his hands in front of him. “Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, talk first? Make a game plan? Or say how we feel or something?”

A glare. “You’re stalling. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

Stiles matched Derek’s glare with one of his own. “Fine! Fine Mr. Sourwolf, not like I’m the one who wanted to do this weeks ago.” Which was a boldface lie, Stiles had wanted to do this weeks ago, just had the dignity to say no. He tugged off his shirt with angry jerks.

---

Stiles moved his hand to jerk himself off, hard and aching for touch. Derek grabbed his wrist with a growl before moving down to begin licking Stiles’ cock. And licking was the right word, not sucking, because all that Derek was doing was giving the heated flesh long strokes of tongue, nothing else, saliva warm as it pooled downwards, fingers heated as they continued to push inside, Stiles’ lungs tightening as he struggled to remember how to breath.

“Derek,” he moaned, his wrist still clenched in the man’s grasp. “Derek, come on, don’t just-” He cut off with a wretched grasp as the fingers curled against him in a way that felt oh too good.

“Don’t just what?” Derek muttered, his lips wet and red, his eyes narrowed into slants that screamed of a predator eyeing his prey. He continued to lick, his tongue slick and fast, like Stiles was a goddamn saltlick.

“Come on,” Stiles urged, surging his hips upward, needing more, needing to be filled. “Fuck me already.”

---

“Fuck!” Stiles yelped as Derek yanked him onto the bed, pinning him onto his back.

“Don’t think I don’t know,” Derek said through clenched teeth, articulating every word carefully. “You’ve been lusting after me this entire time.” His fingers, wrapped around Stiles’ wrists, tightened. “Don’t think I don’t know.”

Stiles struggled against him, trying to squirm his way free, his hips twitching helplessly. Oh god, now was not the time to get a hard on, pull yourself together man! “I told you, I’m not led around by my dick.” His traitorously hard dick. “Just because I find you attractive, which duh, anyone could see that, doesn’t mean I want to fuck you. Damn, you don’t even like me.”

It hurt to say it, even though Stiles knew it was true. But isn’t the truth the most painful thing of all to admit? That Derek begrudgingly spent time with Stiles, begrudgingly got pulled into conversations, begrudgingly got pulled with Stiles life. Nothing wholehearted about any of the time they spent together, always bickering and glaring and why did Stiles have to be the only one who felt this way? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair at all.

---

Derek huffed as he got onto his knees, and it so wasn’t fair how he could look so freaking graceful while doing it. His hot hands grabbed Stiles’ thighs as he lined himself up, his long cock pressing against Stiles’ ass. And then, without a word or a kiss or any warning at all, he silently pressed himself into Stiles, tortuously slow, his eyes never leaving Stiles’ as the man struggled to breath.

Stiles shivered. He knew this feeling well, of being slowly filled. His body knew just how to take what Derek was giving him, and he reveled in it, his hands moving to his cock. Just light strokes, more of a tease than anything, Derek’s spit making the pulls more sticky than slick.

Derek pressed himself forward fully, reaching up to grab the back of Stiles’ neck with possessive fingers, his breath hot over Stiles’ lips. He leaned forward to give a kiss, a slow, lazy thing with plenty of tongue, not the hurried rush of their first one, soft lips replacing the memory of the rigid, frantic press.

---

Derek stilled, his body going rigid as he released Stiles’ wrists. His eyes seemed clouded with an emotion that was hard to place. Confused, or perhaps a little pained. Stiles hadn’t seen Derek look so lost since that first time they had done a show together, when someone had asked if he had ever fallen in love...

Derek brought his hand down, slowly but steadily, softly grabbing Stiles’ chin, his thumb rubbing lightly against Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles tried to calm himself, breathing slowly in and out, his hot pants gusting out of his slightly parted mouth, his chest constricting up and down slowly.

“Do you really think that?” Derek asked, the words thick in his throat.

Stiles’s eyes crinkled in confusion. “Isn’t it true?” It had to be true. No way Derek would have acted this way if he liked Stiles. No way he would want... want to be a wolf, if he felt the same way that Stiles felt about him.

Derek continued to stroke Stiles’ lips, his fingertips calloused as they ran against Stiles’ cheek. “Did you think all that I did, being with you and talking with you... touching you...”

The breath felt stale in Stiles’ lungs as he fought to realize what Derek was saying. “But... you said it was pack. That it was what pack did.” And everyone knew you didn’t always have to like your family for them to be your family.

Derek shook his head, giving a thin lipped smile. “Stiles, you were never pack.”

What did that mean? Stiles wanted to ask, but suddenly Derek was kissing him, his mouth ravenous as it captured Stiles’ own, his hand soft against Stiles’ neck.

---

Derek’s hand was hard against Stiles’ neck, enough to leave a mark, just the other side of bruising. The heated look of his eyes was enough to say just how much he wanted to do that, to mark and claw and tear his way into Stiles, to make his claim in the most animal way. But his hips rolled slowly back and forth, a motion that was sweetly gentle as he moved his way in and out, allowing Stiles to feel his entire length before pressing forward once more.

Stiles panted, his eyes closed in ecstasy, biting his bottom lip to keep from crying out. He hadn’t been lying when he said his walls were thin, and no way he wanted his neighbors knowing what he was doing right now. Right now this moment was for him and Derek only, a private drop of time that consistent of only them, of two hot bodies taking what they needed from each other, what had been building up for weeks between them like static, a heated friction that had gotten under their skins.

Derek’s breaths were growing heavy, and he hung his head on Stiles’ shoulder as his thrusts became sharper, faster, his hips pivoting forward as he struggled to hold himself back. Stiles winced as a particularly eager thrust caused the back of his head to clang against the headboard, and Derek gave a dark chuckle before grabbing his shoulders, forcing him further down the bed. The mattress was far more forgiving to Derek’s thrusts.

Stiles’ gave a breathless laugh of his own, looking up to Derek’s hauntingly beautiful eyes, a mixture of green and browns tinted with just an edge of red. And suddenly it was too much, the look in Derek’s eyes, one of such unguarded kindness, like Stiles was something precious and meaningful, like something that Derek was amazed that he could have...

Like Stiles was something he loved.

Stiles closed his eyes. “I want to do it against the wall.”

Derek stilled, his sweat soaked back growing taut against Stiles’ hands.

Stiles opened his eyes, smiling apologetically. “Sorry,” he said bashfully, his mind racing for an excuse. Why had he even said it? “I just, the guys I’ve been with were never strong enough, so I thought that we could give it a try, I don’t mean that this isn’t great, this is perfect! In fact I just-”

Derek silenced him with a kiss, which was really just so, so much better than a glare, before pulling out of him and silently guiding Stiles’ legs around his waist, Stiles’ arms around his shoulders, picking him up easily as he made his way to the wall. It was cold against Stiles’ back, and he shivered at the contact, pulling Derek in close.

The different position brought with it a new fireworks of senses, and Stiles had a hard time keeping from crying out at the pleasure of it all. Gravity was suddenly so very much on their side, and he could only cling to Derek form, not even shaking with exertion, not showing any signs of struggle as he continued to thrust up into Stiles body, his mouth biting absently along Stiles’ neck, his stomach rubbing against Stiles’ erection in a delicious touch that was threatening to bring him so close to the edge.

“Derek. Derek, I’m going to...” He lost his ability to say anything though, his eyes clouded with lust. Derek looked up, their gazes connecting, his own eyes blown back, glowing a steady red. And suddenly it was if they were brought together, two bodies of one mind, one soul, and Stiles knew why he hadn’t wanted this, wanted to have sex with Derek, no matter how much he really had. He knew this was going to be a breaking point. This was the moment when he would realize how much he wanted to be with this strange wolf man, how much he longed not only for Derek’s body for his company as well. How he was slowly, so slowly he hadn’t even realized it, was slowly falling in love.

And he knew how that was going to break him, knowing that they could never truly be together. Not past this month. Not as two humans, sharing a life together.

He hung his head on Derek’s shoulder, hoping to pass off his tears as pleasure, to pass off his wretched sob as a moan while he came, hard and fast, his body pulsing with pleasure just as his heart pulsed with sorrow. He felt Derek tense up as Stiles tightened around him, a few hard thrusts before he was cumming too, hard within Stiles, and growing, expanding, the base of his dick growing fat inside him...

“Are you knotting me?” Stiles squeaked, and couldn’t believe this was his life right now. He wanted nothing more than to run away, to lock himself someplace quiet and just become lost in his sorrow, and now he was being physically connected to the man who he most wanted to get away from.

Derek didn’t respond, simply slowly back peddled onto the bed, grunting as he sat heavily, immediately sprawling onto his back. Stiles had no choice but to position himself on Derek’s lap, their sweaty torsos still pressed together as Derek had refused to let him move away, hands like steel traps against his back.

Stiles pressed his face against the crook of Derek’s neck, refusing to look into the lazily pleased look Derek had, eyes heavy with exhaustion. He gave a huff. “Stop looking so happy about this. Who knows how long it will last.”

Derek rubbing Stiles’ back in soothing circles, leaning his head to the side to whisper into Stiles’ ear, “I think we’re going to need to call off of work tomorrow.”

Stiles shuddered, muttering, “I don’t think it’ll last that long, wolf-anova.”

Derek chuckled, and it sent shivers along Stiles’ skin to hear such a light hearted sound. “No, I just don’t think I’m going to let you leave this bed for awhile. If we only have a week, might as well start off with a bang.”

Stiles shut his eyes, willing the bile to go back down his throat. He couldn’t let Derek know how he felt, he couldn’t let his own selfish desires effect Derek’s wishes. “Fine, but you’re making the call. I doubt Lydia will buy us both suddenly getting the flu or something.”

Derek chuckled again and kissed Stiles’ temple tenderly. “Fine.”

Please, Stiles thought to himself, his hands clenching the sheets. Please stop being so kind. I’ll never want to let you go.

But he couldn’t fool himself, even for a moment. It was already too late for that.

+++

The preserve felt different at night. Creepy, too open, made you feel small and vulnerable. But Stiles always felt safe with Derek by his side. Really, what thing that went bump in the night could possibly be a match for him?

They had all the supplies they need. The moon hung high in the sky, bright and unobscured by clouds, crystal clear as it shined down upon them. The wolves weren’t asleep, but rather sitting quietly, expectedly. Perhaps they knew what was about to happen, what magic was about to take place. Scott was the most restless, pacing back and forth, eyeing Derek warily. The wound on his leg shone bright red against his brown fur.

Stiles had both knives in hand, small things that he had bought that morning. Two silver blades with ruby drops, one for Scott, one for Derek. The magic book wasn’t needed, the words long since memorized, but Stiles had still brought it along. Just in case.

“Are you ready?” he asked, looking at Derek. The sight of the man naked wasn’t enough to shake him, not now. They had just spent a week with each other, tasting each other’s skin, drowning in each other’s scent. Every morning as they woke, hurried instances at work, long hours at night, leaving them both exhausted and sated. A bit of bare flesh was hardly a surprise now.

Derek merely nodded, looking steadily up at the moon with red, red eyes.

Stiles stared blankly at the page, the words dying on his lips, drying like the crinkled parchment beneath his fingers. There was so many things he wanted to say. Things like how he truly felt, how he wasn’t ready to give Derek up. Not now, not ever, and the only reason he hadn’t said so was... was because this was the only way. Scott had to be human. Derek was born a wolf. It wasn’t fair for Stiles to place his own selfish desires before his friends. Before Derek’s...

He couldn’t ask now, whether this was what Derek truly wanted. And perhaps that was because Derek would still have to do it, still have to sacrifice himself for Scott to turn back. Perhaps Stiles wanted to avoid that heartache, to lead Derek to the realization of all he was giving up. But truly, there was no denying it. Stiles was terrified of that the answer would be yes. That Derek still wanted to be a wolf. That Derek didn’t want to be with him.

More than losing him, more than anything, Stiles didn’t want to hear that. So instead he filled the silent night with the words he knew would seal his sorrow, would take the one thing from him that he had been so quick to love. So quick to lose.

“By silver moon I call by blood, to change that which is beast onto my own.”

There was no wind tonight. The chill prickled against his skin, like a thousand icy needles. He couldn’t imagine what Derek was feeling, with no clothes at all, but the man wasn’t shivering. Stiles had always noticed that his temperature ran a bit higher, that his skin was always so warm against... He quickly shook off the thought and continued reading.

“Let memories from me be taken, and let him know that which human I have known.” Probably unnecessary, since hopefully Scott would regain all his human memories, but he wasn’t about to mess with a spell he didn’t even know about. “A sacrifice to nature thus I give, a... a lover given freely to the wild.”

He stumbled on the word, not daring to look up, not daring to look Derek in the eye. He had long since decided to switch the word. Their bond was not one of familial trust, but of tongue and sweat and cum, and somehow he knew that it was something else too, some emotion that they shared of companionship, of longing. Something that he knew was intensified in himself a thousand fold, a perhaps just as intense in Derek... But not enough, not enough for Derek to say it, not enough for Derek to beg them to find another way, to wait another month.

“Stiles...” Derek said, his voice thick, and Stiles glanced up to see him reaching forward, his face broken in grief.

There were tears in Stiles’ eyes, that was all. Anyone would feel sad to see a friend cry, a lover cry. And Stiles couldn’t stop the tears dripping down his face, couldn’t keep the misery from his voice as he completed the spell. Because he knew if he stopped now he could never begin it again.

“Let that which my heart desires be known.” He closed his eyes and willed his voice not to waver. Did it count if it was a lie? Did it count if this was completely against his heart’s desires, completely against what he wanted most? “And to this night the bond be forever forged.”

Broken, he thought. It’s absolutely broken.

He crumpled to his feet, sobs shaking his body. His cries echoed across the night, broken sounds of a broken man. He opened his eyes to see the blurred image of two knives, their blades clean of blood.

“Stiles?” Stiles heard Scott say, sounding worried and confused.

A warm tongue licked his cheek, and Stiles looked up to see a black wolf with bizarre red eyes, looking at him with tender concern. And all Stiles could do was hold him tight, his one month friend, his one week lover, forever lost to him now.

+++

He hadn’t been to the preserve in a couple of days. Lydia hadn’t even called to complain. Perhaps Scott had explained. What had he even said?

Hey, I think Stiles was in love with Derek, and now he’s pretty sad about the whole his-boyfriend-is-a-wolf thing. Best leave him alone for awhile.

But really, it wasn’t fair, loading all of the work onto Scott, especially since he had been technically ‘away’ for a month. And wallowing in his room, eating nothing but take out while he watched bad comedy movies in a vain attempt to feel better, was really doing nothing for Stiles.

So he got dressed, hopped in his jeep, and went to work. Decided to head to the Operations Center before breakfast to talk to Lydia, at least apologize for not calling. But Lydia wasn’t in when he got there, the only one in the small cabin a smiling, handsome older man.

“Uh... can I help you?” Stiles asked, perplexed.

The man wasn’t in uniform, so it wasn’t a new employee, but rather in dark clothes and a black jacket. There was something familiar about him, something about his face that reminded Stiles of someone he knew, something about his pale eyes that was very familiar...

“Hello,” the man greeted as he went to stand up, his voice oil slick. “My name is Peter Hale. I believe you’ve been taking care of my nephew here. For a few months now, if my information is correct.”

Stiles shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

Peter’s smile was all teeth as he held out a hand to shake. “Oh, I think you do.”

Chapter Text

Lydia never questioned it when Stiles started to request the night shift more and more. It wasn’t something the employees fought over, so no one really complained. If they asked he could always say he needed the extra hours. And that was a truth, in a way. He needed the extra hours to spend with Derek.

Derek, who wasn’t a wolf at all, but rather a werewolf, as if Stiles’ life could turn anymore supernatural. Peter had explained it all, or at least the majority of it. Things about ex-lovers and hunters, a woman and a fire. An entire family burned, and Derek holding that blame unto himself, a heavy burden that slowly crushed his heart to ash. The breaking point of his sister dying, when he began to unravel for good.

Stiles still wasn’t sure what the relationship was between Derek and Peter. Something about bad blood, and the way Peter had smile when he said blood, like it was an inside joke, had Stiles feeling nauseous. He wondered why Peter had even come, for the man had left soon afterwards, not even asking to see Derek.

“He’s a beast, Stiles," Peter had said. "He can’t remember his human life. That’s why he chose to turn into a wolf. To forget.”

Apparently alphas, or werewolf alphas at least, had the ability to turn into wolves. To forget their human memories, to only know the pack, the wild, the instinct. It was dangerous, something that only the most desperate and most broken did. What had driven Derek to such desperation? Stiles couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“I don’t know if he’ll ever realize, if he’ll ever make the decision to transform back. You simply must have patience with him. God knows I never did. But maybe if you could find some way, some magic unknown to me... It’s not likely, but it’s not impossible.

Stiles opened the gate, and was greeted by a group of glowing eyes. The rest of them were just wolves, Peter had reassured him. Animals that Derek had converted into the pack he had lost, a family that he was so desperate to have. If only Stiles could find a way to show that he could be that family for Derek.

”After all, Even someone as burned and dead on the inside as me knows better than to underestimate the simple, yet undeniable power, of human love.”

Derek trotted over on soft paws. He had been calmer ever since he turned back, less irritable and prone to snap. Stiles liked to think of it as a sign that somewhere, deep down, Derek remembered something of his human life. That if Stiles could only find the right spell, say the right words at the right time, Derek could remember all he left behind. And perhaps make the choice to take it back.

“Hey,” Stiles said softly, sinking to his knees. He stroked Derek’s neck, wishing desperately for that feeling of warm skin, of rough stubble and tight muscle. “Today Lydia said she would help me translate the rest of the magic book. I’m hoping there’s someway to return your memories, but it’s going to take a while...”

Derek regarded him with steady red eyes, giving no indication he understood the words. Perhaps all he wanted was a snack for being so patient. Stiles shook the thought away. He had to believe that Derek was still human somewhere in there, and perhaps one day he would remember on his own. Remember Stiles.

“I know you’re still here, with me, but it’s not the same.” Stiles moved closer, his fingers trailing along the black fur. “They told me that when my mom died, during her funeral. That she would still be with me, in my heart. That she would always be watching over me. And I knew it was true, but it didn’t make it any easier.”

The words were sticking to his throat now, difficult to get out. He coughed to clear it, willing himself to calm, his eyes pricking warm with unshed tears.

“And I know you’re still here, with me. You’re still watching over me. But it’s not the same. It’s not the same at all. I want to hear you make fun of movies, and to frown when I play cheesy wolf songs, and do that thing where you almost smile when I make something reasonable to eat. I miss that. And there are thousands of other things I don’t miss about you that I want to know, like if you tan or get sunburn, or what your favorite season is, or if I do things that annoy you more than usual...”

Derek whined softly and licked Stiles cheek, wiping away the tears.

Stiles smiled weakly. “And I’m going to, I promise. Even if it takes me months or years or decades, I’m going to help you remember. I promise.”

He pressed his face against Derek’s black pelt, and let his resolve crystallize over his pain. For tomorrow would be another day, and another opportunity. He had to keep on believing that. He had to, or he would break apart. He was only human, after all.