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Chapter Text

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It was an ordinary Saturday for Derek Hale, he had breakfast of eggs, bacon, and porridge with the rest of his family and wore a clean outfit consisting of white long-sleeved button-down, leather vest, and trousers with leather boots.

"Derek, you shall come with me to the coal mine of Roberts. We are going to close the deal today and put the mine under our name." Mr. Hale said as he stood up from the table.

"Ok, father." He said, complying.

Derek quickly drank his orange juice and stood up from the table. His father wore his bowler cap and had already stepped out, Derek grabbed his green felt cap and went outside. He caught up with his father and both of them headed to the horse stable. The stable boy, Richard had already prepared their horses. Derek rode a bay brown Quarter Horse that he named Bullet while his father rode a chestnut horse named Apollo.

They rode their horses to the mine which was busy as usual and got off their horses. A stable boy came over and took their horses to the mine owner's stables. Robert Williamson was an old friend of Derek's father and fellow businessmen. His father was not only the governor of Beacon Hills, but he was also a skilled businessman.

"Derek, aren't you going to come inside?" His father said to him.

He was standing at the steps of the porch while his father was already on the porch.

"No thanks, father, I'd rather stay out here and admire the miners." He said, taking no interest in seeing his father and Robert sign papers.

He nods and goes inside the office building, which looked like a normal house. Derek walks a little farther away from the house and goes to stay under the shade of an oak tree. He looks at the miners hard at work. Out of one of the mines comes a boy wearing denim overalls hauling a sack of coal over his right shoulder. He was skinny and looked younger than Derek, he also wore a brown felt cap that looked similar to Derek's. The boy's face, hands, and clothes were blackened by working in the coal mine all morning.

"Hey, you!" Derek calls out to the boy, intrigued by him.

The boys looked around and saw Derek and pointed to himself.

"Yes, you in the denim overalls!" He shouts out.

The boy hurriedly walks to Derek.

"Yes, sir?" The boy said in a small voice.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Mieczysław Stilinski, sir." The boy said, "I also go by Stiles."

"Well, Stiles, I am-" Derek started to say.

"I know who you are," Stiles said, "You're the governor's son, Derek Hale."

"Well, I suppose you would know." He said.

After a pause of silence later, "What's the etymology behind your name?" Derek asked.

"Etymology?" Stiles questioned not knowing what the word meant.

"The origin of your name," Derek clarified.

"My mother's side is Polish and I was named after her father. Stiles is a family nickname from my father's side." He said.

"Oh, and how old are you?" He asked as the boy looked as young as 13.

"16, to be 17 in a month," Stiles said, surprising Derek.

"I assumed you were 13 or 14," Derek said, "not a few months younger than me."

Stiles chuckles, "A lot of people assume a lot of things about me."

"Derek, it's time to go." His father said, sternly.

Derek looks over to his father and sees that the stable boy was bringing their horses, the deal was done and over. His father looked pleased as he shook hands with Robert.

"I'll see you around, Polish boy," Derek said and turned to walk to his father.

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Chapter Text

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On the ride home, all he could think about was the boy he had met. Stiles made him feel different, like nothing he had ever felt like. As they reached their big chateau, they got off their horses and Richard came running to take them to their stables.

"Is it okay if I stay and groom Bullet by myself?" Derek asked his father.

"Be in the house in time for your piano lessons, son." He replied.

"I will," Derek assured him.

He walks towards the house while Richard and Derek turn right towards the stables.

"For the 2 months I've been here, you and your father aren't close," Richard said after Derek's father was out of earshot.

"Hmm," Derek hummed as he nodded, "I don't mind it though."

"I heard that your high school has a prom next week," Richard said.

"Indeed, you are correct," He replied.

"Are you taking anyone?" Richard asked out of curiosity.

"Well, I'd rather not go, but my father told me that I should go along with Paige Krasikeva, she and her family attended the Garden Party we had at the start of March," Derek said.

"Oh, yes, I remember her, she was the one who wanted to see the horses," Richard said, remembering.

We walk inside the elegant stable and they take their bridles and saddles off.

"At the garden party, she seemed to have a liking towards ya," Richard said.

"I know," Derek said as he began to brush Bullet's coat.

The conversation falls apart and both Derek and Richard brush the horses. The other horses in the stable gently nickered at Bullet and Apollo from time to time.

"Do you like her?" Richard asked, out of the blue.

"No," Derek muttered after thinking about it, "but, I have to do what my father says. I'll be asking her to prom this Monday."

"She likes roses and lavender," Richard said.

"And you like her," Derek said, looking at Richard as a small smirk crept upon his face.

"Tis' but a fantasy," Richard said dramatically, making Derek laugh.

They finish brushing the horses and Derek glances up at the clock hanging above the shelf with horse grooming supplies. It was almost 9, and Derek had just enough time to run back and practice before his class began at half-past nine.

"Will you put Bullet back in his stable for me or else I'd be late for piano class," Derek said.

"It's my job, Derek," Richard nonchalantly said.

Derek nods and quickly runs back to the house. He puts his hat on the coat hanger and runs to the study.

His black piano in front of the large 10-foot wall of windows glistened in the sunlight. Longing to be played on. He sits down and stretches his hands before setting them down gently on the keys. He had played the piece every day as it was his favorite to warm up with.

The piece was called Je te veux by Erik Satie. He learned it when he was 14, and his pianist mentor was surprised, he exclaimed that he was able to master it when he was well in his 20s. Derek had been playing piano ever since he was 5 and he used it as a way to relieve stress and emotions, learning multiple pieces that were quick, slow, happy, and sad. He has won more than one national piano competition and countless regional and school awards.

Derek's dream was to become an advanced pianist, to forgo his mentor, and become known for creating melodic pieces, yet his father pressures him to become a businessman and work in politics. The only people who support his dream of becoming an aspiring pianist are his mother, his young sister Cora and Richard. His older sister, Laura was more siding with his father as she thinks Derek would make a fine businessman and governor.

'Oh well,'  he thought as he reached the end of the piece, concluding his train of thought and peace of mind as the mentor walked into the study.

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Chapter Text

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Sunday, a day of praying and family. The Hales never missed a day of the church as they had helped build the cathedral. Today was no ordinary Sunday though. Last Sunday, Derek was asked if he was willing to play piano at the end of the Sunday session, Derek agreed whilst his father was on the fence about it. Fortunately, his mother was able to persuade him into agreeing.

Everyone followed the Priest's prayer and all said Amen, that meant that it was time for Derek to play a piece to end the session. He quickly went up to the piano and sat down in front of it. He takes a deep breath and begins to play. The music resonates through the cathedral as everyone silently listens. The old piano makes clicking sounds which Derek only hears which shows that the piano had been used often and but was in good condition. He finishes playing the slow hymn-like melody and he gets up from the seat. He bows to the audience before making his way down the aisle to his family who had stood up from their seats as Sunday's session was over. He looks over to the doorway of the cathedral and sees a familiar face peeking in from the outside. They make eye contact, making the boy go behind the wall.

His father was busy talking to other acquaintances while his mother was conversing with other wives of wealthy families as she held 10-year-old Cora Hale's hand. Laura was also in conversation. Derek usually would stay beside his father, but he wanted to step outside. He decides he tells his mother rather than interrupt his father.

"Mother, may I be excused outside?" Derek asked.

"Yes, honey, you may go outside." She said, softly and then went back to the conversation.

Derek walks down the aisle and out to the door. He looks to his right and sees Stiles standing against the wall, his cheeks dusted with red from being caught.

"We meet once again, Polish boy," Derek said.

"I guess so, I come down here sometimes to listen to the church hymns." He said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Your piano song was beautiful."

"Piano songs are called pieces and thank you. I assume my father would say otherwise." Derek muttered. He tugged on his bow tie which was tightly tied, too tight for comfort.

"Oh, well, I should get going," Stiles said, walking past him.

"Wait, I have a question for you," Derek said, making Stiles turn around.

"Yes, sir?" He said.

"How come you didn't come inside the hall?" Derek asked, "and there's no need to call me sir, we are of the same age, you can call me by my name."

"Uhm, I don't think I'd fit in with everyone else inside the hall," Stiles said motioning his hand at himself.

He was wearing old clothes, a white long-sleeved button-down which was slightly grey, dirty trousers that had dark patches from working in the coal mine, and finger-combed hair.

"Need some new clothes?" Derek asked, "I have some old clothes that are clean and would seem to fit you. I can give them to you."

Derek didn't know why he felt magnetized towards the boy, he is never this generous towards anyone except his family and Richard. Yet, here he was being attracted to a boy he barely knew.

"No, I don't want to trouble you." Stiles politely refused.

"It won't be any trouble at all, besides I'd rather give the clothes to someone who can wear them instead of being thrown away, waste of fine material isn't that?" Derek tried to persuade Stiles.

"There's surely someone else other than me, who can have the clothes," Stiles said, standing ground.

 "Stiles, I want you to have them, so you will be coming with me," Derek said firmly.

"I'm guessing you never had anyone say no to you ever," Stiles muttered.

"False," Derek replied.

His family walks out and Derek goes up to his father.

"Father, may I bring a friend over to the house?" He asked.

"Who is the friend in question?" His father replied with another question.

"Mieczysław Stilinski, we met when we went to the mines yesterday." I truthfully said.

"Derek-" His father began to say, only to be stopped by his mother.

His mother whispered something to his father and his father sighed.

"Yes, you may, but, he shan't stay for long," His father said.

"Thank you, father and mother," Derek said, smiling at his mother.

His family gets in the carriage that they came in while Derek heads to the tie stalls where horses were kept tied to during church. His father wanted Derek to come with them in the carriage, but Derek preferred to ride his horse to church since he would always be taken to school in the carriage.

"Why aren't we going with them in the carriage?" Stiles asked, walking behind Derek.

"I prefer to ride Bullet on weekends," Derek said.

Amongst the horses tied at the tie stall, Bullet was slightly taller and was delighted at the sight of his master. Derek unties the reins and brings the horse to the steps to get on the horse.

"Do you know how to get on a horse?" Derek asked Stiles, who was gaping at the sight of the horse.

Stiles shakes his head.

"You step up these steps, and put your left foot on this stirrup and jump up and sit on the saddle," Derek said, "I'll help you."

Stiles puts his left foot on the stirrup and as he readies himself to push off to put his right leg on the other side, Derek gets up the steps and holds Stiles' hips firmly. At the touch, Stiles feels butterflies erupt in his stomach.

"On 3," Derek said, "1, 2, 3."

Stiles pushes himself off the step and Derek hoists the boy up and onto the saddle.

"Now, back up a little bit so I can get on as well," Derek said.

Stiles pushes himself as back as he could on the saddle and Derek gets on.

"Now, I assume you have never ridden or got on a horse before, so keep your feet in the stirrups and hold on to me," Derek said.

Stiles awkwardly places his hands on Derek's hip, merely holding on. Derek grabs Stiles' hands and wraps it around him. He was sure if Stiles didn't hold on like holding on for dear life, the frail boy would be flung backward as Bullet took off.

Derek couldn't see, but his action made Stiles' face heat up and turn red with a lot of unexplainable feelings. Derek moves Bullet into a walk that smoothly transitions into a trot and then a graceful canter down the paved road towards Derek's family chateau.

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Chapter Text

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The whole ride home, Stiles felt feelings that were uncommon territory, when Derek held his hips to help him up onto the saddle and having his arms tightly wrapped around Derek made his face red, his heart leap and a feeling of euphoria erupt inside him. He didn't know how to explain the feeling other than calling it bright, fiery red.

The chateau looked small in the distance, but as Bullet cantered closer to it, Stiles realized the sheer size of the house. It was like a palace, a place out of Stiles' dreams, the lawns were neatly trimmed and rose bushes at the sides of the pathway. An elegant black metal gate was at the front. Derek slows Bullet down and two security guards open the gate. He moves Bullet into a trot once they go inside and stop the horse as they reach the stable.

Richard walks out.

"Bring the steps, Richard," Derek tells the boy who rushes back in the stable.

Derek slides off and holds Bullet by reins. He pats the horse's neck.

"Would he buck if I touch him?" Stiles asked.

"No, he's gentle and disciplined," Derek said.

Stiles reaches over and strokes the horse's neck.

Richard comes with the steps and places it near the stirrup.

"Place your foot on the step and slide off the horse, whilst holding onto the saddle," Derek instructed.

Stiles places his foot on the step and as he tries to slide off the horse, he loses his balance. Derek was quick to react and he caught Stiles. Stiles was now in Derek's arms bridal style. Stiles was shocked and Derek quickly sat him down on the steps.

Richard laughed but tried to cover it with coughs as Derek shot him a serious look that meant 'shut up'. He takes Bullet and goes to put him in his stall. Stiles stood up and Derek took the steps to put back inside the tack room.

Stiles follows Derek into the stable and was amazed by the airy, rustic yet grand look of the stable. Richard had tied and untacked Bullet and had cross-tied Bullet's halter to the grooming stall. A palomino horse catches his eye and he goes over to the stall.

"That's Chase, he's the newest member of the herd," Richard said, noticing my fascination with the horse.

"Oh, he looks handsome," Stiles says, reaching out to the horse to pet it.

"Don't do that, he's a feisty one that bites," Richards warns.

The horse snorts and Stiles quickly pull his hand back. The horse walks over from the back of the stall to the front, making Stiles back up. The horse pokes his head over the stall door and droops it down.

"What's it doing?" Stiles asks.

"I don't know," Richard said, turning around with the brush in his hand.

Stiles walks closer and touches the horse's head. The horse flinches but it doesn't move away. He strokes the horse and can touch its ears. The horse's mane looked shorter than the other horses'.

"What happened to his mane?" I asked.

"Well, his mane was full of knots and matted when he first arrived, his mane had to be roached," Richard said.

"What does that mean?" Stiles asked.

"Shaved off," Derek said as he was in earshot, "Now, should we get going to do what we came for?"

"Yes, si- I mean, Derek," Stiles said, correcting himself, "Nice meeting you, Richard."

"You too," He said, pausing as he didn't know Stiles' name.

"Stiles," Stiles said, "that's my nickname."

Derek was already out of the stables so Stiles ran up to him. Going down the big pathway leading to the chateau, Stiles admires the rose bushes along the path. Inside the big manor, the inside was as grand and wealthy as the outside.

"Your house is very grand," Stiles says, looking around the main hall.

Two staircases curl inwards from to sides, framing the doorway to a lounge. Next to the staircases from the sides of the building, leads towards study rooms, a library, and rooms of the servants and butlers. On one side of the lounge is the kitchen and dining room, the other is a lounge with a doorway out to the backyard that leads tennis courts and a pool as well as a greenhouse and shed at the back.

"Thank the architect," Derek said. I followed him up one of the stairs into a big master room. The bed was in the center of the room, it had a silk red canopy hanging nicely over the bed. On the right side was a table, with plenty of space to do school work in, and on the other side of the bed was a big bookshelf. The bedroom also had a private balcony with a table and chair outside.

"Architect?" I ask.

"Person who designed the floor plan of the house, do you not go to school?" Derek asked.

"I used to until I had to start working this year," Stiles said, he was still standing at the door while Derek had gone inside and opened his vast closet, full of clean clothes made fitted for him.

"You could sit down on the bed," Derek said.

"I wouldn't want to wrinkle it," Stiles said, the room looked like it belonged in a palace and he didn't want to dirty anything.

"I insist, it won't wrinkle," Derek said, taking a handful of shirts out from his closet.

"Here are some shirts, place them on the bed while I get the vests and trousers," Derek said.

Stiles took the shirts and they were soft and smelt of lavender soap and put them down next to himself. After some time, Derek pulls out another handful of vests and trousers. He sets them on top of the shirts and he puts them in a cloth bag.

"Derek, it is almost time for your Spanish lesson, your friend needs to go home," Laura said, as she stood at the hallway, "and what are you doing?"

"I'm giving my old clothes to him, better to give away rather than throw away, isn't it, sister?" Derek replied.

She nods and leaves to go to her room.

"Since I do not have much time, I'll get you a carriage home," Derek said, giving me the bag full of clothes.

"That's not necessary, I can walk home," Stiles said, not wanting to be of any trouble.

"What's your address?" Derek asked.

"219 Woodbine Lane," Stiles answered truthfully.

"That's on the other side of town, Stiles, a carriage will be far easier than walking, I assure you it won't be of any trouble to us," Derek said as he went out of the room.

Stiles followed him to the lounge where he called a butler.

"Andrew! Get me a carriage will you." He said at the butler.

"Yes, Mr. Hale." The butler said and quickly went to get a carriage.

Derek accompanies me to the front of the house where a carriage comes after some time.

"Where to, Mr. Hale?" The carriage rider says.

"219 Woodbine Lane," Derek said.

"Thank you, Derek," Stiles said, expressing his gratitude.

"See you around, Polish Boy," Derek said as he closed the carriage door.

The carriage starts moving and Stiles look out the window and waves at him. Derek watches the carriage go out of the front gate and goes inside.

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Chapter Text

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The carriage stops in front of Stiles' house and he gets out. His mother was looking outside from the window, she looked certainly surprised. He walks into the house and closes the door.

"Mieczysław, what on Earth did you do?" Stiles' mother, Claudia said.

Stiles walks into the living room to explain everything, well almost everything to his mother.

"Well, Ma, it's a long story." He said, sitting down on the couch whilst his mother slowly sits down on the rocking chair. "Yesterday, while at the mines in the morning, the governor and his son came to the mines and I was hauling coal out the mine when Derek, the governor's son called out to me."

"What did he want?" She said, as she gently rocked the chair.

"He didn't want anything, he asked me my name, the origin of it, and my age," Stiles answered, "he said that he assumed I was 13 or 14."

"And, what does this have to do with anything with the carriage?" She asked.

"Well, I was outside the church listening to the ending musicals and the governor's son was playing the piano so I was peeking in. He spotted me after he was done and he came outside," Stiles recalled, "he gave me some of his old clothes." He stood up and handed the bag full of clothes to her.

"Stiles, why didn't you say no? You know the difference between you and the governor's son." She said.

"He was adamant about it. Then since he couldn't give me a ride back, he ordered a carriage for me which I tried persuading not to, but he also was adamant about that." Stiles said.

"Ride back? What do you mean by 'ride back'?" She said confused.

"At church, when Derek wanted to give me his old clothes, we went to his chateau on his horse, Bullet and we also met Richard, who I think is the stable boy, so he would have given me a ride back on Bullet, but he had Spanish lessons to go to," Stiles said quickly.

"Oh, Mischief, don't you just get into a lot of things you aren't supposed to get in." She said, sighing. She grunts as she stands up.

"Ma, are you okay?" Stiles asked his mother.

"It's just t-the pregnancy, your sibling's going to be born out any day now." She said, massaging her swollen belly.

"Let's go lay down, I'll heat some milk for you, ma," Stiles said as he helped his mother to her bedroom.

"Could you make sure Stuart comes in by sunset?" His mother asked him.

"Yes, I will, ma," Stiles said, as he put a blanket over her and went to heat the milk up.

He pours the milk in a small pot and puts it over a gas stove when it starts to bubble, he removes it from the heat and pours it into a glass and takes it to his mother.

"Here's the milk, careful, ma, it's slightly hotter than warm," Stiles said as he placed it on the bedside table.

"Stiles?" His mother called his name.

"Yes, ma?" He said, kneeling beside the bed.

"You're such a kind kid, what did I do to deserve you?" She asked.

"Ma, you deserve so much more than me, you deserve a life that's full of luxury and wealth, comfort, and warmth." He said, holding his mother's hand.

"No, mischief, this life with you, Stuart, your pa, and this little one in here, is the best life I could have ever asked for." She said, smiling.

Stiles' eyes watered and he quickly wiped them away before she noticed, "here, drink your milk, ma," He said, as he helped his mother prop up and drink the warm glass of milk.

He stands up and takes the empty glass from his mother and leaves the room, slightly shutting the door behind him. He puts the glass in the sink and goes to his room. He decides to continue reading a book he borrowed from the library two weeks ago.

It was a young adult novel called Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society. He usually reads whenever he gets the time to, whenever he wants to get lost in another reality. The only book he had ownership of was a dictionary since some words in the stories he borrows are uncommon. He wishes he was able to continue high school, but money's an issue and so were resources.

As he lay on his bed, lost in the novel, the afternoon sun shining in through the window, he was suddenly shaken back into reality by a commotion on the road. He puts his book down, upside down to make sure he doesn't lose the page he was on and gets up. Looking out the window, he sees his brother Stuart getting beaten up by two other boys. He runs out the door and onto the road. Stuart was on the dirt road being kicked and punched by the local delinquents, Montgomery 'Monty' Joseph and Jonathan 'Johnny' Cliffe.

"Okay, break it up, that's enough for my brother today," Stiles shouts, pulling both the boys away from Stuart.

"Would you like some brawl, Tiles?" Monty said, saying his name wrong, mockingly.

"Oh yeah? How would you like this for beating my brother up?" Stiles said, giving him a powerful punch right on the nose.

A bloody nose was all that was enough to send them running. Stiles pulled Stuart back up to his feet, he had a few cuts and bruises, nothing serious.

"Mind telling me what you did?" Stiles said, grabbing his brother into the house by the ear.

"Ow, that hurts," he said, holding his ear when Stiles let go, "I did nothin'."

"Stu, did you mock 'em?" Stiles asked.

"Probably, I just called them weasels, nothing big," Stuart said, as he shrugged.

"You see, Monty and Johnny, they are bulls and anything you say that's mildly a threat to them, is like waving a red cloth in front of them," Stiles lectured his brother, "you're a coward for doing that."

"Just because you are probably 3 minutes older than me, doesn't make you my second parent, Stiles," Stuart said.

"It does because if you keep going around and pulling tricks like these out your sleeve, one day, I might not be able to save you before they break your ribs," Stiles said.

He had a love-hate sibling rivalry type of relationship with Stuart, but he was always going to be there for his twin. Even if they fought earlier in the day.

"Are you still upset that I read your journal last night?" Stuart asked.

Stiles nods, "I might never forgive you for that," he said.

"Let's say if I make us something for lunch, would you?" Stuart said, grinning.

"What are you going to cook?" The older twin asked.

"Spicy porridge along with smoked ham leftover from breakfast," The younger twin said, looking in the cupboards.

"Sounds good, but talking about forgiveness comes after lunch, and make sure you make some for pa when he comes back home," Stiles instructed his twin.

"How about ma?" He asked, turning around.

"She's asleep, I'll cook for her when she wakes up," Stiles said.

"So, Derek, the governor's son, how come you were with him today?" Stuart asked, after a while of silence later.

"What do you mean?" Stiles said, surprised, "How come you knew that I was with him today?"

"I followed you to church and hid behind the fence, I saw you get on his horse with him and ride off." His twin answered.

"Well, he had some old clothes that he wanted to give to me, rather than throw away," Stiles recalled, again.

"So, we got some new clothes way before Christmas, eh?" Stuart said.

"Hmm," Stiles hummed as he nodded. He takes a seat at the dining table to watch his brother cook.

~

Lunch was a little while later, and Stuart was a mediocre cook but was skilled enough to make spicy porridge. They spend the evening in their room, Stiles continued reading his novel while Stuart was either staring at himself in the mirror or annoying his brother. Right before sundown, their father, Noah, comes home and immediately goes to wash the coal residue off him. Their mother wakes up as well and Stiles reheats the spicy porridge for his father and Stuart. He also makes steamed vegetables for his mother and him. It was unusual for him to cook, but his mother was too weak to cook, so he decided it would be useful and helpful for him and Stuart to cook easy meals of porridge, eggs, ham, and vegetables. Sometimes fish when they could afford it.

Everyone in the house slept easy that night, everyone except for Stiles who was awake and writing in his diary, using a candle to light up the desk. He finishes his entry with his signature and closes the book, putting it on the shelf and blows the candle out.

~

Chapter Text

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The school bell rings indicating that school ended for the day, all of the students head out the classes and out onto the courtyard. Before Derek got on his carriage home, he had to ask Paige to prom. He watches the girl talking with his friends on the other side of the courtyard.

The school was an academy built also by a member of the Hale family, Derek's great-great-grandfather, one of the founding members of Beacon Hills. Although the high school was only for boys, it was later changed to co-education with only a dozen girls from wealthy families attending when my father became the governor. He is progressive and strives to create a better society. A lot of people hate him for that, but Derek looks up to him.

Paige notices that Derek was looking at him and he quickly looks away. He stood in the same spot, trying to decide whether or not he should ask her to prom. He was listing out reasons to and not to when he noticed that Paige was walking towards him.

"Good afternoon, Hale," She said, smiling.

"Mrs. Krasikeva," Derek formally said, nodding.

"Just call me Paige, I was wondering," Paige said, "why were you looking over at me and my classmates?"

"I'm sorry, I was completely captivated by your beauty," Derek lied and put on a convincing smile.

"Thank you, may I ask, are you going to attend the prom this week?" Paige asked.

Derek was no psychic, but he knew Paige wanted him to take her to prom. So did both of their fathers and Paige's mother. Derek was essentially cornered into having to ask Paige to prom.

"Would you like to attend prom with me?" Derek said, wanting the conversation to already end.

Paige Krasikeva was a disciplined and kind girl, anyone would be delighted to take her to prom. Anyone except Derek. Derek saw Paige as a school mate, nothing more, no feelings or interest.

"Yes, that would be very pleasurable," Paige said, her face lighting up.

Derek internally scolded himself, while Paige walked away, almost skipping like a small school girl. She was happy, he was definitely not. With a scowl on his face, he got on his carriage to go home. At home, Derek silently goes to his room, his hunger was diminished by his mood and so did his motivation for carrying out the rest of the day normally.

His mother passes the corridor and looks into his room to see Derek still in his school uniform, sitting on his bed.

"Derek, why hadn't you changed from your uniform?" She asks.

"I asked Paige to prom," Derek muttered.

"That's splendid news son, why are you sulking?" His mother said, walking and sitting next to him.

"I don't necessarily have any interest in going to prom or of her, honestly speaking," Derek said to his mother.

"Then why did give the invitation of going to prom with you, Derek?" His mother asked.

"That, I do not know," Derek said, looking at his mother.

"Well, you might just be feeling these out of spite, Paige is a nice girl, you'll warm up to her." His mother said, "what lessons do you have today?"

"Piano, French, and Riding." He said.

"Well, get on with preparing for those lessons, you must always be on time and at your best." She said, getting up and leaving the room.

Derek shuts the door and changes out of his school uniform and into his regular clothes which were cotton button-downs, leather vests, and trousers. He then sits down to finish his homework before the piano lesson begins at 3, which is half an hour later.

~

Chapter Text

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Stiles was hard at work in the mines ever since the morning. He and his brother Stuart worked hauling duty while his father was mining out coal. Stuart was like having a parrot that never stops talking. Unless anyone other than Stiles tells him to shut up. Stiles learned to block his voice out as it would be of annoyance to hear his brother's voice talk about everything all day while they were hauling coal out.

"Stiles, watch out!" Stuart said as he pulled his brother back.

Stiles was busy blocking his voice out that he had almost got run over by a truck that had come to collect coal.

"Do you have a death wish to be run over a truck?" Stuart asked.

"Well, I have been hearing you either talk or complain for 6 hours straight, why wouldn't I?" Stiles said to his twin.

"Sorry, hauling coal is plain work with not much entertainment, I wanted to fill the gap." He said, taking coal out of his sack and putting it in the pile of coal that was going to be taken by the truck.

Stiles says nothing else and headed back in the mine with an emptied sack. Stuart ran up beside him and was quiet for a while.

"Do you think our sibling's going to be a brother or sister?" Stiles asked him, out of the blue.

"I don't know, but if I could choose, a brother would be good, I wouldn't want to have tea parties or make flower crowns," Stuart said.

"I wouldn't mind a sister, I don't want any chances of a carbon copy of you," Stiles mumbled to his twin.

"Why? I have the best qualities you could never have!" Stuart exclaimed.

"Name one of your best qualities," Stiles asked his twin.

"Well, my looks are one," Stuart said.

Stiles jabs Stuart in the stomach with his elbow, "we look the same, coward," Stiles remarked.

"I just look slightly better, since all the gals come after me, rather than you," Stuart said.

"What girls? Never seen a girl look at you without any other face other than disgust." The older twin said.

Stuart tries to punch his twin in the arm, but Stiles quickly dodge the punch by moving forward.

"Too bad, just pay attention to the work alright?" Stiles said as they reached where the miners were mining. They put coal in their sacks and started to walk back out.

~

As the evening sun touched the horizon, a whistle sharply blew meaning that work was done and everyone came out of the mines. Their father and both twins were darkened by coal and were ready to go home and hit the haystack.

"Ready to walk home?" Their dad asked them as he put the pickaxe in the shed.

Stiles and Stuart both nodded.

They reached the house when the sun had already set and the sky was the hue of midnight blue. Their mother was asleep and they did silently wash up and ate canned corn and peas.

Both Stiles and Stuart get ready for bed and instead of Stuart laying down to sleep earlier than Stiles, he stayed up and kept Stiles company as he wrote.

"Are you writing about how you almost got run over by a truck today?" Stuart said.

"Or are you writing about Derek?" He whispered.

"It's none of your damn business, Stuart," Stiles muttered, shutting his book and blowing the candle out.

"It is," Stuart said as he laid down on his bed, "I had to spend 9 months inside ma's stomach with you and then, 16 years sleeping in the same room with you."

"You're one to complain," Stiles huffed as he got in bed and covered himself with his blanket.

Silence ensued as both boys settled down to sleep. Minutes later, Stiles felt drowsy and was ready to fall into slumber when he was unjustly woken up by none other than his twin.

"Stiles, stiles, ssstiiiilleessss," Stuart said in a sing-song whisper.

"What is it, you dumb nut?" Stiles hissed at his brother.

"Good night," Stuart said in a happy tone.

"You better have eyes behind your back tomorrow," Stiles threatened his twin.

Both go back to sleep and thankfully, Stuart doesn't interrupt his twin's sleep.

~

Chapter Text

~

The day was mundane and ordinary, Derek had school, then he had homework, Spanish and Piano lessons along with being fitted for a new suit in the anticipation of prom. Stiles had his work from 7 am to 7 pm which was mundane except today, Stuart and Stiles were working in two different mines which were a relief for the older.

It was 8 pm and Derek was having supper with his family. Rotisserie Chicken with Potatoes and Steamed Vegetable stew. Derek left the table early as he didn't eat much and he left to bed, or so his parents think.

Derek goes to his room and makes his bed look like he was in it and asleep. He wears a coat as the spring night was cold and quietly goes down the stairs and instead of going out the front door, which would alert his family, he went through the small side door that was used by servants and butlers. He steps out and makes sure to close the door behind him. He runs to the stables and luckily Richard was still up and brushing Apollo as Derek's father had come home from work right before supper.

"Don't tell anyone that I'm not here, I just have some important business to take care of that nobody needs to know." Derek sharply said to Richard.

"Yessir," He said as he continued to brush Apollo's coat.

Derek gets Bullet out and tacks him up as fast as he could. He gets on the horse and rides off to the front main gate.

"I have important business to take care of, they know that I am going." Derek lies to the gatekeeper.

The gatekeeper cracks the gate open enough that Derek could ride his horse out and he canters down the road into the night.

~

Stiles had already written in his journal and was reading a few pages of the book he was reading before he wanted to settle down to go to bed. He reads a few pages and puts the piece of ribbon that he uses as a bookmark and closes the book. He turns the candle off and gets into bed. He makes sure he was completely covered as tonight was a cold night.

As he was about to fall asleep, he hears horse hooves clop up the road and stop, someone gets off and Stiles thinks nothing of it. Suddenly, he hears a small 'tap, tap, tap.' He gets annoyed and puts his head under the pillow to muffle his ears.

He hears the taps as something hitting his window, hard. He turns around and sees that rocks were being pelted at his window. Stiles sluggishly gets up and sees a figure at the door with a horse behind them. They were throwing rocks at the window. Stiles hesitantly opens the window, letting in a cold draft as he does so. He puts his head out the window and sees that the figure was none other than the governor's son, Derek.

"Can I help you?" Stiles said his voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn't say anything, but he jerks his head to the side, telling Stiles to come out. Stiles, being as blunt as a rock, he shoots a confused face at Derek.

"Could you come out?" Derek whispers.

Stiles unable to refuse from his own will pulls on a coat and jumps out the window as he had learned to do.

"I was about to sleep, what do you want Derek?" Stiles asks, rubbing his eyes.

"I just needed to see you," Derek muttered.

"So you came to the poor side of Beacon Hills for me?" Stiles whisper yelled.

"Where else would you be?" Derek asked.

"Asleep, in the land of dreams and peaceful slumber," Stiles said.

Someone whistles and they both look around in shock. Stiles looks up at the window and sees his nutcase of a brother, poking his head out the window.

"Oh my, is that Derek Hale?" Stuart said, surprised.

"Stuart, get your ass back in bed or else." Stiles threatened.

"Nah," Stuart said, jumping down the window to join them.

"I had no clue you had an identical twin?" Derek said, confused and in awe.

"Well, now you do, buddy," Stuart said, as he slung his arm over my shoulder, "so, what brings you here away from the warmness of your mansion?"

Stiles puts his face in his hands to cover the sheer embarrassment he is feeling.

"Your brother and I are friends, are we not allowed to meet?" Derek asked.

"Well, the way you two keep meeting and spending time is quite, shall I say, uncertainly romantic," Stuart said.

It was dark, but if it was day, both of Stiles' and Derek's face would be red enough to notice. Stiles drops his twin's arm from his shoulder and scratches the back of his neck, while Derek's whole body tenses up.

"Haha, I'm just poking fun with you two, so what's the plan, we going on a horse ride to a magical creek, or your big palace?" Stuart continued to say.

Derek was feeling slightly annoyed and his palms tightly folded into fists. Stiles tries to get his eye contact to calm him down. He kicks a rock to Derek that goes unnoticed by Stuart. Derek darts his eyes at him. Stiles then looks down at the fists and back up at him.

He takes a breath and slowly unfolds his hands.

"I should get going." Derek gruffed.

Stiles pulls Stuart to the house by the arm and says not a word and heads back to Derek.

"11 am, back of shelf 10 of the library. Meet me there." Stiles whispers to Derek.

Derek nods and gets on his horse to head back. Stiles watches the horse trot back and into the night.

Stiles holds Stuart by the shoulder and walks him to the room. Stiles also, makes sure he is asleep before he sleeps. He was going to plan to poke a little passive-aggressive fun at his brother soon.

~

Chapter Text

~

The next day, Stiles got up early before anyone else woke up and went to fetch a couple of caterpillars from the shrubs behind his house. He got 3 and carried them back to the room. He puts them on Stuart's face and waits for Stuart to wake up. The caterpillars move and Stuart's face twitch. He quickly opens his eyes and realizes there were caterpillars on his face. Stiles sat on his bed with the biggest grin on his face, seeing his brother stand up and fling the caterpillars onto the floor.

"Stiles! Why did you do that?" Stuart yelled.

"Why did you do what you did last night?" Stiles contracted Stuart's question with another question.

Stuart doesn't answer, so Stiles picks the caterpillars back up from the floor and walks closer to his twin. Stuart squirms back and hits the closet.

"Alright, alright, I just wanted to embarrass you," Stuart confessed.

Stiles walks back outside to put the caterpillars back in the shrub. He runs back in and quickly goes to his room to get ready for work. He brushes his teeth with a rough cloth and plain water. his brother had already changed into his work clothes so he changed into his and headed down to join the family for breakfast. They ate bread spread with jam and an apple each. The whole family was awake and up for breakfast. Stiles and Stuart quickly ate and had to leave to work as they had to be there by 7.

Their father had a sit down with Robert and the Governor yesterday so that he could stay at home to assist his sick and pregnant wife until she delivers. The governor, Arthur Hale, also known as Derek's father gave their father approval and so had Robert.

The twins reached the mines and began work. When their lunch break began at 11, Stiles quickly went to the library in anticipation of seeing Derek. He had completely no idea why he invited Derek to the library, seeing that Derek goes to school and probably wouldn't come anyways. Yet, here he was, walking into the library whilst he was slightly dirty and sweaty from the morning work.

He walks into the backside of shelf 10 and sees Derek standing with a book in his hands.

"I thought you wouldn't come," Derek said.

Stiles stared at Derek, he looked different yet the same in his school uniform. Unknowingly, Stiles had his mouth agape as his eyes went up and down, surveying and taking in information of the boy standing in front of him. He quickly realizes what he was doing and quickly snaps his mouth shut.

"I thought you wouldn't come," Stiles said back at him.

"Oh, and why did you want me to come here?" Derek said putting the book back on the shelf.

"Well, last night you seemed like you wanted to ask something until Stuart interrupted. So, ask here since Stuart won't come here." Stiles said.

"I," He started to say, "I don't know how to say it, or make words to express what I want to say."

"Oh, then-" Stiles started to say but was cut off by Derek in the most unexpected way.

Both Stiles and Derek's lips met and Stiles' eyes widened from shock while Derek had closed his eyes.

Derek, as quick as their lips had collided, had pulled back. Both boys were shocked but they didn't feel negative about it.

"Stiles, I'm sorry-" Derek started to say when Stiles cut him off this time, "Do it again," the smaller boy said.

This time, both leaned in and Derek's warm lips touched Stiles' tender lips. Derek puts his right hand on Stiles' nape and his other hand on the smaller boy's waist pulls him closer. Stiles keeps his hand by his side not wanting to put coal residue on Derek's clothes nor Derek.

They part ways before anyone could catch them, they know that that was wrong, that what they were feeling was not good, but then again they felt so alive, so free and loved. Derek, especially never had felt like this towards anyone.

"Um, sorry, I should go back to work, and uh, you should probably go back to school." Stiles sheepishly said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You do that whenever you're embarrassed," Derek said.

"Do what?" Stiles asked.

"Rub the back of your neck." He said.

"Oh, yeah," Stiles said, putting his hand down, "I'll uh, go now."

Stiles quickly turned and left the library, when he was walking down the dirt road back to the mine, he kept replaying the event in his head, smiling as he could feel how Derek's lips felt so warm, loving, comfortable, and soft.

'I shouldn't feel this way, but, why did it feel so right?'  Stiles thought.

He puts everything in the back of his mind as he begins work of hauling coal, even though he was working, he just couldn't stop thinking about it. About Derek and the kiss.

~

A/N this is how Stiles looks like in this fanfic, just wanted to let y'all know!

Chapter Text

~

Their hearts longed to meet, yet they can't, they shouldn't. Both Derek and Stiles unconsciously avoided each other. Even when Derek had come to the mines one evening, they made eye contact, but not a single word was muttered. Stiles felt sad, but he thought that this was for the best. Derek simply thought Stiles was angry at him and decided that he shouldn't say anything. A simple case of miscommunication.

It was the day of prom and Derek was getting ready. His clothes were nicely laid on the bed, washed and ironed. He knows he should be happy that he is taking a lovely girl to prom. A lavish ball that only the privileged are going to. He sits on the bed, wearing trousers and a silk button-down shirt. He had been dreading for this night and here it has come. The carriage was ready and Derek was still sitting in his room.

His sister bursts into the room, "Derek, what are you doing? Wear your coat and shoes, the carriage is waiting." Laura said.

"I know," Derek said monotonously.

"No time to sulk for any useless reason, you need to go. Time is precious." Laura urgently said.

"I'm coming," Derek said, sluggishly standing up. He slips his coat on and wears his dress shoes. He ties a white bow tie and wears his silk top hat that was only used in formal occasions like tonight. He walks downstairs to see his family beaming in joy as their son looks lavish and gentlemanly.

"Have a good evening, son." Derek's father said. Tonight was a rare occasion as his father had a pleasant smile on his face.

"Thank you, father," Derek said as he walked outside where the carriage was waiting.

He got on the carriage and it was headed towards the Krasikeva Mansion. He nervously twiddled with his thumbs as the carriage got closer and closer to the mansion. The carriage stops in front of the exquisite mansion and Derek walks out. He walks up the door, holding in his instinct to run, run as far as he could go. He knocks and a butler opens the door.

"I'm here for Ms. Krasikeva," Derek said.

The butler nods and he opens the door to show Paige, coming down the staircase, her family watching her. She wore a champagne pink dress that drapes nicely over her figure while defining her chest and shoulders. She also wore white gloves that were up to the middle of her forearm and a large feathered hat of which was white, with pink faux feathers and a black ribbon. She was definitely happy to go to prom. As she reached the bottom of the stair, her father held her hand as she walked up to Derek.

"Beautiful as always, Paige," Derek complimented her as he took her hand.

She holds his hand and they walk to the carriage. Derek lets her in first and he settled down as well. They waved to her family as the carriage began to the school. Derek stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

The carriage stops in front of the school and Derek helps his date out the carriage. They walked into the school hall and it was bustling with other students with their dates, an orchestra was playing lively classical music, and refreshments were displayed and were attended by servers. Paige nudges Derek's arm, waiting to ask her to dance.

"Would you like to go and get some refreshments?" Derek asks Paige.

"Of course!" Paige said, smiling, hoping that they would dance after they get refreshments.

They head to the table where Derek orders a fruit punch and Paige orders the same. They sit down at a table and Derek listens to the music. Paige stares at Derek. They finish their drinks and Derek doesn't say anything to Paige. He sees Paige looking at him from the corner of his eye.

"Shall we dance?" Paige impatiently asks.

"We shall," Derek said, getting up and holding his hand up.

Paige springs up in joy, her face beaming. He takes her closer to the music where Derek holds Paige's waist and hand while Paige holds Derek's hand with her right on his shoulder. The dance was just them swaying from side to side, Paige was enjoying it, while Derek's mind was thinking about something else. Someone else. After a while of it, Paige notices Derek was aloof.

"Are you okay, Derek?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm fine and dandy," Derek lied.

"Could you excuse me? I need to powder my cheeks." Paige said.

They walked to the tables where Paige left him to go to the restroom. Derek waits, thinking it wouldn't take so long. Fifteen minutes pass, Derek stands up to go check on her. He sees her on the dance floor, dancing with another boy, Thomas. Derek took this as an opportunity to walk out of the school hall.

Outside the school hall, out onto the courtyard of the school. He hears leaves and twigs rustle as someone falls into the bushes on the left of him. Derek walks closer to find out that it was either of the Stilinski twins.

"Which one?" Derek asks the boy who quickly stands up from the bushes.

"Stiles." He shyly replies.

Derek doesn't say anything, he didn't know what to say.

"I- I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry," Stiles said, walking away.

"S- Stiles, wait!" Derek said.

Stiles stops and turns around. "Derek, I don't know why I feel this way to you, but we both know this is not right, it's not and we shouldn't be liking each other," Stiles said the cold, hard, truth.

"But you are the only one that feels right, I shouldn't have kissed you, but my heart has been hurting ever since you began ignoring me," Derek said.

"You think I'm ignoring you? Derek, you don't say a single thing and you don't even try to, and I- I just thought you are angry at me and, and," Stiles said, his voice laced with hurt and uncertainty, "I, I just don't know what I should do."

Both Stiles and Derek were uncertain with themselves, full of doubt and hatred towards themselves for liking each other. They had no one to talk to as they knew what would happen if they did. Beaten, jailed, or even killed. Just for liking someone of the same sex.

"Stiles, I don't know what to say," Derek said, feeling defeated.

"No one knows, we should just ignore this, you should ignore me," Stiles said, a tear going down his cheek.

Derek wants to go up to the boy and comfort him, he can't, he can't move in fear of anyone seeing them. Stiles turns and walks home while Derek stands and watches. Stiles' breath hitches as more tears go down his face. As soon as he thinks he's out of Derek's sight, he runs but not to his home, he runs into the woods. It seemed like the only place he could surely be alone.

Derek, still standing in the courtyard, feels tears springing up in his eyes. He wipes his eyes and instead of walking back in, goes in pursuit of his star-crossed lover. Walking down the road, he wonders where Stiles would go. If anyone was to know, it would be Stuart. Derek walks to the house, in the dark wishing he had never let Stiles run.

~

Chapter Text

~

The forest was dark and damp. The only source of light being moonlight scarcely scattered through the redwood trees. Stiles kept running in the dark, not thinking of where he was running to, just running. He stops when he sees that something was in front of him,  he wasn't able to recognize what it was. He takes a step closer to try and see what it is when the 'thing' jerks up.

It was a deer, more specifically a buck with huge antlers. It lunges towards Stiles and he barely misses it as he falls to the side trying to dodge it. The buck jumps over the boy as if he was a mere log on the forest floor. The sound of clomping hooves fade away and Stiles decides to stand up. He puts his left forearm out to help steady him up only to place it right on the sensor pad of a leg-hold coyote trap. The two claws snap shut with his left forearm inside. The spike digs into Stiles' arm and he screams a loud, piercing cry. He tries to pull his forearm out only to drag the spikes on the claws further into his skin and flesh. Blood trickles down his forearm and it dirties the dirt floor and the trap. He shrieks for help, hoping someone would come, even if it means he had to yell his throat out.

~

As Derek was trying to find Stiles, he heard a scream, excruciatingly in pain, the voice cried out. The echoes make it unrecognizable to know who it was, but all Derek was able to know was that it came from the woods. He heads in the forest and hears a buck moving fast, it whizzes past him, barely missing his head with its antler. He hears calls for help, it was Stiles, his voice coming from the right of Derek.

He runs to the right, knowing his way through the forest as he had been there hunting. He walks closer as Stiles' voice becomes louder.

He finds Stiles on the floor, his left arm trapped in a coyote trap. Derek doesn't know much about coyote traps, but he knows how to disarm one. Two latches on each side had to be pulled down as fast as they could.

"Stiles, it's ok, I'm here," Derek said, taking his coat off for mobility and throwing it on the ground.

"It hurts, Derek," Stiles whimpers as the claw seems to tear into the skin and flesh of his forearm.

"I'm going to disarm it and I'll need you to move your arm at once for me," Derek instructed Stiles.

Derek settles down and takes in a deep breath before pulling down the two latches. Stiles moves his forearm out of the way and Derek takes his hand off the latches which springs back up closing all the way.

"Here, we need to wrap something around it," Derek said taking the velvet coat from the ground and wrapping it around Stiles' forearm to prevent blood loss.

"Derek, your coat," Stiles said, seeing as it would have been expensive to make.

"You are more important than a piece of fabric, besides I don't like velvet," Derek said, he ties it around tightly and helps the boy to his feet. Stiles felt light-headed so Derek slung Stiles' good arm over his shoulder and took him to a house.

He basically had to drag Stiles up the porch steps as Stiles was losing strength.

"Hold on, Stiles," Derek said to the boy.

Derek knocks on the door with urgency and a woman opens the door.

"Oh Lord, come in Derek, quick!" She said.

They lay Stiles down on the floor and in the commotion, Richard pokes his head out his room door.

"Richie, go get your father for me!" His mother tells him.

He nods and runs to get his father. They both come in and Derek steps back to give Dr. Walters some space. Dr. Walters was a trained doctor in Beacon Hills, working in the Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.

"What happened to Stiles?" Richard asked Derek.

"His forearm got trapped in a coyote leg-hold trap, the ones with the sharp spikes like claws," Derek told Richard.

"Oh," Richard said, his eyebrows being slightly raised.

He cleans the blood off and stitches the wounds up, the claw had gone deep and created a deep cut when Stiles tried to force his hand out. Mrs. Walters bandages the wounds up.

"Will he be fine?" Derek asked, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

"Positively, he's one lucky bastard that didn't get his bone crushed by the spikes," Dr. Walters assures Derek.

"I should probably take him home," Derek said.

"I'll go with you," Richard said, like the loyal friend he is to Derek.

"Come back quickly, Richie," his mother tells him.

"Will do, momma," he replied.

"What should I do with the coat?" Richard asked Derek.

"Keep it here, I'll pop in and take it with me when I walk back," Derek said.

"I'll try to clean the blood off it or it'll stain," Mrs. Walters said, taking the coat to rinse it.

Derek nods, he helps a partially conscious Stiles to his feet and out the door.

Richard holds an oil lamp to illuminate the road as he walks beside Derek.

"Aren't you supposed to be at prom?" Richard asked Derek.

"I was but I left," Derek said, "Prom is elegant and fancy and all, but I'd rather not go if I can't take the person I want to prom."

"Who is the person-you-want-to-take-to-prom?" Richard said.

"The person I want to take to prom is, the person I want to take to prom," Derek said, not wanting to say.

"Hmph, I guess that shall remain a secret," Richard mumbled.

We reach Stiles' house and Stuart, who was poking his head out the window, jumps out.

"What happened to him? Monty and Johnny?" Stuart asked.

"Coyote trap," Derek huffs.

Stuart lets them in and his father comes out of his room, shocked to see someone as important as the governor's son with his lowly son.

He stands in shock as Stuart leads them to their room, Richard gives him a small awkward smile.

"Good evening, Stiles' father," Richard said and then strode into the twins' room.

Derek lies Stiles down on his bed, as he assumed the cleaner one would belong to Stiles. Stuart looks at his brother who gets covered by his blanket by none other than Derek. Stiles felt comfortable and the pain seemed to subside a little, either he got used to it or he was just exhausted.

"We should go now," Richard said to Derek who was staring over-protectively over the sleeping boy.

"Oh, yes," Derek said, they walk out the room and Stuart stands at the door.

Derek and Richard walk out the house leaving Stuart alone with his father who was still standing where he was trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.

"Pa, you should probably go to sleep," Stuart said.

"The governor's son was in this house," his father muttered, his face with a frozen shocked expression

"You are correct, father, now you need to rest, look at those eyebags bigs enough to hold a lot of coal, eh?" Stuart said, turning his father around to the bed.

"Son, you will tell me everything tomorrow morning, you and your brother." He said, sitting down.

"Goodnight, pa," Stuart said, closing the door and heading to his room to sleep.

He closes the door and lies down to sleep. He stares at his brother, already fast asleep.

"Goodnight, Stiles," He said to his brother even though he won't reply.

~

Chapter Text

~

Stiles wakes up as the morning sun beats down on his face, his brother had already gone off to work whilst he had to stay behind because of the newly gained injury.

He contemplates whether to stay in bed or to get up and do some light chores around the house to keep his mind reined.

Stiles slowly gets up knowing that doing something rather than doing nothing would be ultimately better. He walks his way to the bathroom and gets ready for the day, he skips the morning shower and changes into a pair of new clothes. The ones that Derek had given Stiles. They still smelled like him with hints of lavender and rose.

He fumbles with the buttons after getting them all on after what seemed like an eternity. He heads to eat something where he finds his mother, sitting at the rocking chair lost in thought. His father was sitting next to her in the armchair reading the morning newspaper.

“G’mornin, ma, and pa,” he said to his mother.

She hums in response and his father nods.

He heads to eat something for breakfast which ends up just being leftover oatmeal and canned fruit from his family’s breakfast. After that, Stiles leaves the house pulling his brown cap over his head.

He doesn’t have anything much to do so he dawdles around the neighborhood, looking at the town bustling with life. He feels detached, distant, and out of place. Stiles didn’t know why, but everything he stood himself on slipped from right under his feet in seconds. He felt that the identity he had created for himself was false.

All his mind told him that he was wrong and this was not right. Boys shouldn’t like boys, Stiles shouldn’t like Derek. Everything he’s been feeling is wrong.

‘Wrong,’ The word echoed in his mind.

‘This is all wrong,’ He kept telling himself.

Stiles was lost in his mind when he suddenly felt a shove from behind, he didn't have time to catch himself and he landed on the ground. He grunts in pain and turns onto his back to see it was Monty and Johnny.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” Monty said.

Stiles stays silent when Johnny doubles down on him.

“C’mon, spit it out, Stiles, you love to talk don’t cha, buddy.” Johnny sneered.

“No one plans a murder out loud, you idiots,” Stiles snarkily replied, getting up from the ground, wiping the dirt off his shirt.

“Who are ya gonna kill? Us? Pah, you can barely throw a good punch!” Monty said, although his nose was still bruised from the time Stiles punched it.

“You imbeciles think he’s doing it alone?” A familiar voice said from behind the two boys.

Monty and Johnny turn around to reveal Derek on his horse, Bullet.

“O-Oh, Mr. Hale, we w-were just y’know saying hi to our v-very good friend, Tiles! I mean Stiles” Johnny and Monty said, wrapping their arms around me, which I quickly push them off my shoulder.

“Go on your day now,” Derek said to the two boys.

Monty and Johnny quickly scurry away, they were afraid of Derek. He had the physique of an olympian, lean and strong. To Stiles, it made him more attractive.

“Are you ok, Stiles?” He asked, getting off his horse.

“Yeah, aside from my left forearm throbbing intensely, I’m fine,” Stiles answered.

“I could do something but you have to promise not to tell anyone, or I will rip your throat out, with my teeth,” Derek said, seriously.

“Jeez, ok, Mr. Threatening,” Stiles said.

Derek looks around and sees no one in sight, he pulls me to the side of the road between two houses and blocks the road view with Bullet. He gently lifts my sleeve and bandage to reveal the stitched wound and hold my arm firmly with both his hands.

“So, you learned magic from Merlin or something?” Stiles asked.

“Shh, quiet,” Derek said, as he closed his eyes, furrowing his brows in concentration.

Stiles sees black veins come from his arm and onto Derek’s hands, the black veins seem to disappear into Derek’s forearm and he lets go. Stiles was shocked and confused at the sight.

“How on Earth did you do that?” Stiles gasped, feeling less pain than he was.

“I can’t talk about it out here, but if you’re fine with it, we could go somewhere I can show you how exactly I can do that,” Derek said.

“O-okay, you’re not like a sorcerer right?” Stiles asks, curiosity taking the lead.

“Trust me, I’m way different,” Derek said, “Now, get on.”

“Uhh, Derek? How do I get up without steps?” Stiles asks.

“Left leg on this stirrup and then pull yourself onto the horse, sliding your right leg onto the right side, I’ll help you,” Derek says.

Stiles puts his left foot securely on the stirrup and as he pulls himself on to the horse, Derek holds him firmly on the waist and pushes Stiles up on the horse.

“You sure do have a lot of strength for someone who’s months older than me,” Stiles says to Derek as he pushes himself a little back on the saddle.

“I do,” Derek agrees as he gets up on the horse, “hold on, tightly.”

Stiles places his hand awkwardly on Derek’s hips and Derek pulls the smaller boy’s hands and wraps it around his waist. With the sudden movement, Stiles is up against Derek’s back.

“I said, tightly,” Derek said as he moved his horse into a canter.

Stiles being up against Derek’s very muscular back makes Stiles feel fluttery inside. Stiles, being both tickled pink and embarrassed, feels his heart race as his body and Derek’s back rub against each other causing friction and warmth. Derek rode Bullet out onto the outskirts of Beacon Hills and Stiles rests his head against Derek’s back.

His left ear being against Derek’s back hears the faint thump of Derek’s heartbeat. Steady and calm, he felt his heartbeat synchronize with the beat.

They walked into a fenced area that was a farm, the place looked run-down, paint stripped on the wall of the barn revealing red bricks underneath. Bullet stops to a halt and Derek slips off whilst Stiles sits on top of the horse, somewhat scared to fall.

“Slowly slide your right foot over the saddle and sit sideways on Bullet before jumping down,” Derek said.

Stiles stands up, balancing his feet on the stirrups, and moves his right leg over the saddle and to the left. He turned the wrong way and was facing the saddle.

“Uhh, Derek?” Stiles said, not knowing what to do.

“Jump down,” Derek said, holding Bullet’s reins.

Stiles jumps down and lands on his two feet. He turns to Derek and they walk into the old barn.

“So, this barn is your little nook of magic?” Stiles asks.

Derek shakes his head and opens the door to reveal the inside of the barn, empty yet lit up by light streaming in from holes on the roof.

“Derek, there’s nothing here,” Stiles said looking at Derek.

He had his eyes closed and when he opened them, they were a blazing red instead of the hazel green he has.

~

Chapter Text

~

Stiles, scared out of his mind, startles backward, trips on a hay bale, and lands in a small mound of hay that wasn’t in bales.

“What- How did you do that?” Stiles asked as the red faded back into Derek’s hazel green eyes.

“Don’t be startled but-” Derek started to say when Stiles interrupted him.

“Don’t be? I already am!” Stiles said, sitting up on the hay, “What are you? A devil?”

Derek sighs and holds the bridge of his nose, “no, I’m a werewolf.”

“Werewolves are a mythical creature,” Stiles said, “or so I thought.”

“Most of the Hales are born werewolves,” Derek said.

“And you go around killing people on full moons?” Stiles asks.

“No, god no! I am a predator, but I’m not a killer,” Derek said.

“What’s your prey, y’know, if you’re a predator,” Stiles said.

“Well, we learn to control ourselves at a young age, when we reach werewolf puberty,” Derek said sitting on a hay bale in front of Stiles, “so, we don’t eat anything except food that’s on the table.”

“So, you’re saying that if a human was on the table, you would eat them?” Stiles asks, grinning widely.

“Stiles, that’s not,” he said, taking in a moment to breathe in, “that’s not what I meant.”

“What else?” Stiles says.

“What do you mean by ‘what else’?” Derek asks.

“Is there anything else I need to know?” Stiles clarified.

“I don’t know, what else do you want to know?” Derek asks Stiles.

“Can silver kill you?” Stiles asks after thinking for a while, “or is that just a myth?”

“Silver can kill only if it’s made and shot by an Argent, and silver isn’t the only way a werewolf can be killed,” Derek answered.

“What are the other ways?” Stiles asked, without the intent of murdering a werewolf but out of curiosity.

“You don’t seem to emit chemosignals of wanting to kill me so, I’ll tell you,” Derek after a while of silence, “Some types of wolfsbane, Electricity in high enough voltages, there are more ways to weaken a werewolf so, the list is pretty long.”

“What are chemosignals?” Stiles interrogated.

“Basically human emotions, animals such as wolves can sense them, and since werewolves are wolf-humans, we can too,” Derek answered.

“Oh, so you know how people are feeling even if they don’t show so?” Stiles said.

Derek nods, “And I also have the rare ability to shift to full wolf form, that most werewolves can’t do.”

“Can you do it right now?” Stiles asks.

“I’ll have to take off all my clothes to transform, so maybe, as long as you’re not uncomfortable,” Derek said, standing up from the hay bale and kicking it to the side.

“Uh- not at all!” Stiles said, awkwardly, “I’ve seen my brother naked, more than once.”

“Ok, well, give me a moment to shift,” Derek said as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

He takes his shirt off and places it nicely on the hay bale, his torso was as if it was beautifully sculpted by Michelangelo and his skin glowed as a ray of light shone on to him from a hole in the tin roof. Stiles admired the body in front of him.

“Is something wrong?” Derek asked, noticing Stiles’ unbroken stares at his abdomen.

“Does the werewolf powers come with beautifully sculpted muscles?” Stiles asks, breaking his stare and moving his glance to Derek’s face.

“That’s mostly good diet and exercise, but being a werewolf does lend some factors in it,” Derek said, taking his trousers off and placing them on the hay bale.

Derek was certainly not only handsome in the face and torso but also what’s below. Stiles felt like he had never ever felt before. His heart pounds against his chest and he feels his trouser tighten up. Both Stiles and Derek notice the evident bulge that Stiles had on the groin. Stiles was quick to cover it with his hands and Derek grinned as he let out a breathy laugh.

“I did not mean for that to happen,” Stiles said, his face hot and red as he reached to rub the back of his neck with a hand.

“Well, I’ll turn around,” Derek said, turning around and taking the last article of clothing off and putting it on the hay bale.

His behind was also as beautiful as his front. Not helping with the elephant in the room at all.

“So, shifting would seem weird, but it’s just going to be my bones, muscles, and organ shifting inside," Derek told Stiles

He sits down on the wood floor, with his back facing towards Stiles and his body starts popping and moving as he shifts.

Fur grows around his body and a tail grows as well. His head changes with two ears and a snout growing. The sounds stop and the creature who is Derek but is a wolf turns around. With Stiles’ mind distracted by Derek’s peculiar shift, his erection had gone back down and perplexion bubbled in his mind.

Derek sits down on the concrete floor, to show that he wasn’t threatening even if he looked like a big, black wolf with red eyes.

“Is that really you, Derek?” Stiles asked.

Derek can’t speak as he is a wolf now, so he nods his head.

“You can’t speak when you’re a wolf, huh?” Stiles said to which Derek nods back.

Stiles crawls towards the wolf and touches the ears. Derek lets out a quiet growl in response.

“Is it okay if I pet you?” Stiles asks, putting his hand away.

Derek takes a moment to think about it, and he eventually nods.

Stiles pets Derek to which Derek relaxes his body and lies down. As Derek was getting a full body massage by Stiles, he’s suddenly yanked back to alert with the smell of someone else. Someone familiar.

He quickly stands up on all fours with his ears forward, looking at the crack of the barn door.

“What is it?” Stiles asks.

‘Quiet!’ Derek snarls, to which Stiles remains silent, listening. The door was pushed open and a girl pokes her head in.

“Derek, what are you doing!” Laura said, in a way that didn’t sound like a question, “No one is supposed to know that we are werewolves!”

Derek quickly shifts back and pulls his underwear on.

“Sister, it’s alright, he had to know somehow. I healed his pain twice.” Derek said, his voice sounding submissive.

Stiles had met his sister, well met as in seen before. She seems to be the older out of the two.

“You know better than to take the pain of some peasant boy,” Laura said, eyeing Stiles.

“He’s not some peasant boy, he’s my friend,” Derek growled, his eyes glowing red.

“Our reputation shan’t be tainted by a running mouth telling everyone about how the Hales are werewolves,” Laura sneered.

“Why are you against everything I do?” Derek argued with his sister.

“I’m trying to protect you,” Laura said.

“No, you’re trying to fit me into Father’s image he had created for me, which is a complete copy of himself,” Derek said, his claws had come out but he was trying to control his shift by curling his hands in fists.

He grunts and growls as his claws pierce into his palms as he tries to control himself.

“I need you in the house for discussion imminently,” Laura sternly said as she turned to walk back.

“Ok, sister,” He mumbled, as his head hung low.

His hands were bloody with his own blood and it dripped down onto the wood floor. He breathed deeply as he slowly opened his palms, one finger at a time. Derek felt shame, heavily as Stiles had to watch Derek argue with his sister in nothing but underwear.

“I’m sorry,” Derek mumbles to Stiles as he quickly puts on his clothes, regardless of whether he got blood on it or not, “You should go now.”

“No need to apologize, Derek, after all, you’re still human,” Stiles said, before hesitantly turning to leave the barn.

‘Don’t go, Stay.’ Derek wanted to say to the boy. He couldn’t, the boy had already left the barn.

As Stiles walked down the dirt road back to Beacon Hills, he looked back at the barn. He wanted to run back and comfort Derek, to just be with Derek again. He hesitantly trudges back, pushing everything to the back of his mind. Distracting himself as he counted the fence poles on the fence that belonged to the farm.

~

Chapter Text

~

Derek rides his horse home, he certainly didn’t feel like himself, like the governor’s son everybody looks up to. His clothes were stained in blood, his head hung low and in shame. He doesn’t say a word as he rides into the fenced courtyard in front of the pristine chateau.

He gets off Bullet and hands the horse to Richard without muttering a single word, as he keeps his gaze low and to the ground.

He walks in the chateau where Laura had already told the rest of the family of what she had seen. Everyone was in the grand sitting room, waiting for Derek. He walks to them and stands in front of his parents. Shame and guilt so heavy that it was emitting from him in tidal waves.

“You better have remorse and a suitable explanation, Derek.” Talia sternly said, recognizing the chemosignals he was sending off, “Why did you show someone as lowly as a peasant boy that you were a werewolf?”

“I took his pain, twice and I’d rather give him the truth than nothing,” Derek said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I strictly told you that taking pain from anyone, anywhere is not allowed,” His father stated.

“As I am aware, no other person noticed and Stiles was not aware the first time I did so,” Derek said.

“If you had taken their pain once, why take it again?” Talia asked, his voice was soft but still had undertones of strict authority underneath.

“He was hurting, I cared about him that the instinct was unbearable,” Derek said.

“What are you, gay?” Laura sneered.

The room fell silent with Laura’s question. Derek’s heart began beating, pounding, everyone in the room may be hearing it.

“N-no! Why would you care anyway? I make a friend for once and now you suspect that I’m into boys? How could you-” Derek began spewing out holding back furious tears when his father backhanded him on the right cheek.

He holds his cheek stung from the quick but strong slap as he slowly looks at his father’s eyes.

“Go to your room, you’ve disappointed us,” His father said coldly, his blue eyes piercing through Derek as he walks away to his room.

His cheek was red from the slap, but the pain quickly left as he healed. He closes the door and stands in the middle of the room. He looks to the left to see his neat desk and bookshelf. With a flash of rage and grief, he hurls his arms knocking everything he owned on to the floor, he pulled his books out of the shelf, threw the covers off the bed, ripped the clothes in his closet off their hangars and everything was on the floor in a chaotic fit of rage and unexplainable emotions.

He felt hot tears go down his eyes, he can’t allow himself to break down, he can’t. He shouldn’t as he is a young man and men don’t cry.

He falls to his knees in the middle of the clothes, book, and personal holdings he had on the floor. He felt heavy and as if he couldn’t carry himself anymore. He lies down on the floor and looks up at the ceiling.

Oakwood, the color of walnuts and chocolate reminded Derek of Stiles’ eyes in the morning sun, reminding of the warm comfort and love he felt while he was with Stiles. He wanted Stiles, badly, but why?

He questioned himself. He rarely does as he busies himself. Every time he did, he would quickly shut it out. Derek doesn’t know why he does that, but he never felt comfortable pondering about himself. It felt selfish and unnecessary to do so.

Laura’s question kept echoing in his mind.

‘Am I gay or are Stiles and I just friends?’

’Friends can kiss, right? No, not boys. Especially not boys.’

‘The kiss wasn’t supposed to happen, I didn’t plan for it to happen. It just happened.’

‘Do I like Stiles?’

He pondered to himself. Spinning in the treacherous turmoils in his mind. Trying to figure out who he really is. Who he is to himself. Everyone knows him as Derek Hale, the governor’s son, girls fall in love with him and boys respect him, but he isn’t even sure he knows himself anymore.

~

Chapter Text

~

At this point in time, both Stiles and Derek were in absolute loss. Three days had passed since the Hale household dispute and it’s been suffocatingly quiet. To Derek, it’s loud, ear-piercing in fact. The dining table was quiet, cold and Derek couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I deeply apologize for the way I acted. I realize my mistakes and I will never repeat this. I learned my lesson and will stay away from him.” He said, setting his fork and knife down.

The others halt to a stop, Derek looks up from his plate at his father who was sitting at the head of the table. His father slowly sets his utensils down and looks up at Derek.

“Good, your apology will be thoroughly accepted once, you prove to us that you will abide by it,” he said.

“I understand, father,” Derek said.

He picks his utensils back and continues eating. Cora and his mother left the table early and Laura left soon after. He and his dad were the only ones alone at the table. Derek usually would clear his plate in less than 20 minutes. He can’t leave the table if his plate isn't clean. He lost his appetite after the incident, it’s been hard for him to eat as he has to force himself to eat.

“You can leave the table, you shouldn’t force yourself to eat more than you can, I’m only going to excuse you this one time,” His father said, sipping his wine.

“Thank you, father,” Derek said, quietly getting up from the table.

He wanted to go to his room, but before that he would do something that he had never dared to do.

“Father, may I ask you a question?” Derek said, turning himself towards his father.

His father sets his glass down and nods as he glances up at Derek.

Derek takes a deep breath and before he gives himself time to hesitate, he asks, “Did you believe that I was into boys?”

He was silent for a while, but then he cleared his throat, signaling that he was going to say something.

“It’s late, you should be getting ready for bed,” he said, standing up and walking out the room.

Derek quietly walks to his room and readies himself for bed. Finishing up his homework, he turns the candle off. He takes his clothes off and strips down to his boxers, usually, people of his status would wear night robes and undershirts made of silk, but he preferred not to, being a werewolf and all.

He blows the candles out and crawls into bed, the soft moonlight shone through the balcony, the curtains softly moving as a breeze rolls in. He felt unnaturally awake tonight. It wasn’t a full moon, nor was it his restless werewolf-ly instincts. He sits up and walks out to the balcony. He leans on the baluster, looking at the horizon. Lost in the stars and the moon, until he senses that he wasn’t alone.

He looked to the right, at his sister, Laura’s, balcony and she had stepped outside. Dressed in the white robe, she looked just like their mother.

“Good evening, brother,” she said, turning herself towards him.

“You must be reveling ever since you brought me shame and humiliation in front of our parents,” Derek coldly said, still having unresolved anger towards her.

“I did what was best for you, now that you’ve gotten off your high horse. You might not think the same, but you will be grateful that I did so,” She said.

“I hope your night’s sleep is as pleasant as you are,” Derek muttered to her and walked back into his room.

He stays standing in his room, listening to his sister’s footsteps as she walks back inside and draws the curtains. After a while, he walks around the room, slipping back into the clothes he was wearing. He steps out the balcony again, and he focuses his mind on Laura’s heartbeat, slowly slowing as she falls asleep. He waits a while, just to make sure she is completely asleep before he climbs onto the ledge of the balcony. He slowly climbs down, holding on to ledges, and as he reaches the ground, he jumps down, landing on the soft grass of the backyard.

He sneaks around the side of the house, hiding behind bushes and making his way to the stables. Richard had already gone home, and the horses were asleep. He uses the side gate that was behind the stables to get out, it was unguarded as no one knew about it and no one used it so it was covered with vines.

He uses his claws to cut through the vines and pry the metal gate open. The gate slowly opened enough for Derek to walk through. He closes the gate and sneaks out onto the night.

He did promise his father that he will stay away from Stiles, but he can’t, he just can’t. The past three days were torture, every waking minute of Derek’s life felt horrible. He missed Stiles, dearly and he had a plan.

He takes a shortcut to the other side of Beacon Hills through the preserve, loping on all fours to reach there faster. He stands back up and walks to the side of the house, glancing up at the window, seeing a dim light from a candle.

He takes a couple of small rocks from the ground and throws them at the window. The first two throws were enough to notify Stiles.

Stiles looks out the window but doesn’t open it, instead he stares at Derek for a while before backing up from the window.

‘Leave, he doesn’t want you here,’ Derek thought to himself.

As he was about to walk back, Derek heard someone walk out. He turns around to see Stiles.

“Derek,” Stiles said after a while of both of them just staring at each other, “what are you doing here?”

Derek had a lot of things running in his mind, he wanted to tell Stiles about the argument, about how much Derek missed Stiles, and about the plan when he noticed something was off about Stiles.

His left forearm wasn’t the only place that was injured, he had bruises and cuts on his face.

“Stiles, what happened to you? Who did that to you?” Derek asked, walking closer to the boy to examine the poppy bruise on his right temple and nose, the cuts on his lip and cheek. They were fresh, and still had the smell of fresh blood.

“It- It’s nothing,” Stiles said, gazing down at the ground.

“It’s not nothing, Stiles, what happened?” Derek asked again.

“Monty and Johnny jumped on me, that’s all,” He said.

Derek could tell Stiles was hiding something, “Stiles, that’s not all.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, “well, it’s no doubt that I’m certainly not like the typical American male, so Monty and Johnny targeted me for a beatin’, called me a faggot and other names,” he said.

Derek was speechless. He felt Stiles’ pain emanating from himself. Something he never felt before, feeling another’s pain is something only a bond can create.

“I’m sorry, Stiles,” Derek said.

“It’s not your fault, I’m going to bed now, before the pain gets worse,” Stiles mumbled.

“Let me help you,” Derek said, wanting to take the pain, if he could he would take all of it.

“No, Derek, don’t waste your healing powers on someone like me, your sister was right, all I am and ever will be is a peasant boy,” Stiles said, walking backward.

“My sister is wrong, now shut up and let me help you,” Derek said, going closer to the smaller boy.

Derek cups Stiles’ face, and soon enough, black veins appear and the pain simmers down. Stiles felt his muscles relax and he felt as if everything was just a small sore. Derek steps back a little, it seemed that Stiles would be going back to bed.

“We really need to talk,” Stiles mumbled.

“Then,” Derek said, “let’s talk under the stars.”

Stiles walks with Derek to the back of the house, they sit down on the porch steps that followed up to the back door.

“Well, my birthday’s tomorrow, turning 17.” Stiles breaks the silence.

“Oh, a month has passed since we met?” Derek said, realizing that March was just a huge blur, he couldn’t remember most things that happened in March.

“Yeah, and it’s been the most chaotic month of my life,” The smaller boy said.

“I agree,” Derek replied.

They look up at the stars, and Derek focused on the chemosignal Stiles was sending out, a mix of uncertainty and suffocation. Derek decided to help Stiles relax before they can talk.

“So, that star over there, the brightest, is the Polaris, the North Star,” Derek said.

“Why is it called the North Star?” Stiles asked.

“It points to the North, always, like a natural compass,” Derek said, “it’s part of the constellation the Big Dipper and Little Dipper.”

“Your parents also made you learn Astronomy?” Stiles asked.

“No, I learned that on my own, they made me learn French, Spanish, Latin, Italian and I also learned Riding and Piano and believe it or not, I also practiced Fencing,” Derek said, using his fingers to count.

“Wow, that’s a lot, how do you manage all that?” Stiles asks, amazed.

“Well, I currently am learning only French, Italian, and Riding along with Piano,” He said.

“Oh, could you say something French? I once went to a play that was in French, didn’t know a thing but, French sounds pretty,” Stiles asked excitedly.

“Well, I’m not very good at it, but Je veux être avec toi pour toujours,” Derek said.

“What does that mean?” Stiles asked.

“I want to be with you forever,” Derek said.

~

Chapter Text

~

“What does that mean?” Stiles asked.

“I want to be with you forever,” Derek said.

“Well, Je vu et-re ave-k tua poo to-shoe too,” Stiles said, accidentally butchering the french language in one sentence.

Derek giggles at Stiles’ attempt of repeating what Derek had said.

“I completely destroyed the French language in one sentence, didn’t I?” Stiles said.

“Yes, but good enough for a first attempt,” Derek said.

Stiles smiles and he looks down and slowly pans his vision towards the redwood forest that was behind the house. He might be human, but his eyes had adjusted to the night. He sees a silhouette in the woods. Someone or something was lurking in the woods, staring at them.

Derek notices Stiles looking at the woods, his eyes squinting. “What is it?” He asks.

“Look,” Stiles said, pointing at the silhouette, that certainly wasn’t a deer, coyote, or any creature, but human.

Derek glows his eyes, red, making it easier to see things in the dark as if it was the day. Someone was standing amongst the trees, observing the two boys. Derek slowly stands up and walks towards the forest, Stiles stands up, but is too afraid to walk into the woods.

As Derek got closer to the forest, he realized who it was. He wished it was anyone but them.

“I guess the assumptions are correct then?” The man asked.

“They told you? Why in God’s name would mother tell you?” Derek muttered back at the figure.

“Oh, just because I killed a few hunters doesn’t mean I’m not family, besides I have ears everywhere, dearest nephew,” he said.

Derek sighed, “Will you tell them?” he asked.

“I dislike you the least amongst you and your siblings, I would love to ruin your life, but no, I won’t be telling them,” he said.

“I hope you will keep that promise, if you couldn’t, for any reason that might be, I will kill you even if we share the same blood,” Derek threatened.

“Aww, you look adorable when your spilling threats out that mouth of yours,” The older one teased.

“It won’t be fun when I come down to that mansion of yours and actually do by it,” Derek said.

“I’ll prepare tea and cakes for the occasion then,” He said, “Now, let’s meet your little victim.”

He brushes past Derek and makes his way up to Stiles, Derek quickly following behind him. Stiles anxiously backs up against the wall as Peter makes his way to him.

“He doesn’t smell like a werewolf, a puny little human, I could bite him, if you don’t mind or mind,” The older snarled, his fangs coming out.

Derek darts in front of him and roars at the man. He stops in his tracks and retracts his fangs.

“Possessive, just like your father I see, well, then why don’t you have a go, Bite - what is it? Your first bite?” He said.

“I’m not biting anyone, no one’s turning anyone tonight,” Derek snapped at the man.

“At least, introduce him to me, I’m very excited to see that my seventeen-year-old nephew finally, and I mean finally has a love interest,” he said nonchalantly.

Derek takes an audible breath as he controls himself back to complete humanity. Stiles, not so scared anymore, walks closer to the two Hales.

“Horrible first impression, I apologize, Pleasure to meet you, I’m Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle,” Peter said, extending his hand towards Stiles.

“Mieczysław Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles shyly said, as he shook Peter’s hand.

“Oh, that’s a form of child abuse, to give such a name,” Peter said, “I slightly feel pity towards you, love-interest-of-Derek.”

Stiles smiles a small, tight-lipped smile and nods his head as Derek rolls his eyes as Peter’s remark.

“I should get going now, the guest room next to your room is calling my name, Derek,” He said, tugging the sides of his coat, “have a wonderful night with your to-be mate.”

Peter walks back into the dark shadows of the forest and Derek sighs from both relief and embarrassment.

“How come your uncle isn’t as strict as the rest of your family?” Stiles asks, sitting back down on the steps.

“Homosexuality in werewolves are more common than in humans, some Alphas have more than one wives and they can be both females and males, my family is just strict on heterosexuality and monogamous relationships,” Derek explained.

“Oh, may I ask, is Peter?” Stiles said, not ending the question as Derek understood what he was about to say.

“God knows, he doesn’t have any mates yet but nobody knows what he’s up to in San Francisco,” Derek answered.

“He lives in where?! Aren’t houses expensive in the golden city of San Francisco?” Stiles asked amazed.

“If you hadn’t noticed already, the Hales is a prestigious family, neck-deep in riches and luxury, not that it’s much fun anyway,” Derek said.

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that for a second,” Stiles said, nodding.

“I should probably get going before my father or anyone of my family finds out I was out,” Derek said.

“Back of Shelf 10 at 3 tomorrow?” Stiles invited Derek.

“Sure, I’ll be there,” Derek said, but he wasn’t about to leave just yet, “before I leave, I have something I should do.”

He cups Stiles’ face and kisses him gently. Pain transferring from Stiles to Derek. They move apart and Stiles slowly opens his eyes as he held onto the last seconds of the kiss.

Without another word, Derek quietly walks under the moonlight, and as he reaches the start of the forest, he jumps onto all fours and lopes alongside the forest, disappearing behind the houses that blocked Stiles’ view. Stiles silently walks back in the house making sure not to make a peep as everyone was asleep.

Derek reaches the side gate behind the stables, he cracks it open and makes sure to close it and lock it. He sneaks around to the back of the house and climbs up the house to his balcony. He finally felt relaxed enough to sleep. He lazily rips his clothes off and throws them on the chair of his desk and settles down in bed. He slowly falls asleep as the spring breeze blows in from the balcony, the silk red canopy waving when the breeze hits it.

~

Chapter Text

~

Stiles would usually wake up at 5 sharp in the morning on a weekday, but since he had the coyote trap incident, the doctor told him to not do any heavy work for 2 weeks. It’s been 5 days since the doctor’s visit. To Stiles, it felt like he was serving time in prison.

It was late in the morning, well 8 actually, but to Stiles it was late. He groggily sits up on his bed and something smells. The rancid smell was slightly uncomfortable and Stiles sought out to find out where it was coming from. As he gets up and looks around the room, he quickly realizes that it was coming from the bandage on his left forearm.

He was supposed to get it changed today. He quickly pulls his boxers off and heads into the bathroom. He was taking a proper shower today, but first, he had to take the yellowed, disgusting bandage off his arm.

He slowly removes it and throws it in the dustbin under the sink. The wound was healing faster than it normally should. That meant in a few days, he could get the stitches out and be relieved of the itching they brought to every second of his life.

Stiles brushes his teeth and showers in the cold water. His brother had used all the hot water. Stiles didn’t mind, he quickly takes out a new bandage he bought the other day and wraps it around the forearm, tightly but loose enough that it was breathable. He pulls on a new pair of clothes and decides to wash the clothes, it’d been a while since he hasn’t.

He turns towards the basket, expecting it to be full, only to see it empty with not a single cloth inside. Stiles would not care that much, brush it off as Stuart had done it already, but today, he felt the overpowering need to find out where his and Stuart’s clothes are.

Skipping down the stairs and heading into the kitchen, he sees his father putting the clothes inside the wringer washer.

“Good morning, kiddo, happy birthday!” He said putting the last cloth in through the two coils and into the soapy water along with the other clothes.

He walks up to Stiles and gives his son a tight hug. Stiles hugs back, wondering when was the last time he hugged his dad, and that he should’ve hugged him more.

“Birthday boys get the special breakfast of pancakes with fruit, made by your mother, with my help this year!” He said excitedly as he set a plate down on the table.

Stiles sits down and eyes the glorious meal of two pancakes, with a serving of fresh fruit, unlike the canned fruit they normally eat.

“Pa, you didn’t have to do this, but thanks, it sure does look delicious!” Stiles said as he dug in, hungrily stuffing pieces of fruit and taking huge bites off the pancakes.

“Well, it’s a tradition that we held ever since you and your brother were 4, now, since you’re going to find a pretty lady and get some kids soon, I expect this tradition to carry on,” his father said.

Stiles nodded as his mouth was full of food. He eats the plate clean and washes it in the sink.

His father goes back to trying to wash the clothes, he had done it a few times now, but he still hadn’t got the ropes yet.

“I’ll do the washing, go spend some time with ma,” Stiles said.

“No, no, you’re also hurt, go rest, you need it especially after yesterday, son,” his father said to him.

“If you say so,” Stiles says as he slowly exits the room, wondering what to do.

He decides to go to the corner store and buy some chocolate with the savings he saved up from the past two months. Maybe he’ll buy some for his brother as well.

He takes his brown felt cap and heads outside. It was warm and sunny. Stiles jogs up to the corner store and knocks on the counter to signal the clerk. He turns around and is pleased with Stiles’ appearance.

“Stiles, how ya doin’?” He asks, cheerfully.

“Been better, anyway, just one chocolate bar, please,” Stiles said, putting 2 cents down on the counter.

“None for your brother?” He asks, taking one Hershey’s chocolate bar and placing it on the counter.

“He can buy chocolates if he wants it himself,” Stiles told the clerk, who nodded.

“And don’t think I have forgotten that it’s your birthday today, here’s a little something for the occasion,” The clerk said, giving Stiles a bottle of root beer.

Stiles smiled at the kind gesture and thanks to the store clerk.

He takes the chocolate and root beer from the counter and walks back to his house, he sits down on the porch chairs to enjoy his treats on a warm morning.

He eats his chocolate but the spring sun had made the chocolate semi-melted that it got all over his fingers. He licks his fingers and rubs them dry on the leather trousers, he didn’t want to get in the fuss of going inside and washing his hands and coming back outside to drink the root beer.

He pops the cap of the root beer open and drinks a few sips. The taste of root beer reminded him of times when his father would buy one bottle of root beer and Stuart and he would check which glass had more and claim it before the other could.

Out of the countable things that the twins had in similar, root beer was one, a major one.

While he was enjoying the serenity and peace of root beer and spring. It was interrupted with hollers of men shouting. Stiles puts his root beer down and leans over to see a horse wildly galloping through the streets with a carriage attached to it. A baroness was stuck on the carriage, crying and screaming her heart out.

Stiles didn’t have time to think, he reacted, running onto the road and as the horse galloped closer, Stiles was able to hold onto its reins. He never had any experience with horses, none at all, but right now, he was holding onto the reins. Before he could do anything else, the reins are jerked as the horse doesn’t stop which sends Stiles running and partially dragged along the streets.

Despite the injuries he had sustained the past week, his strength remained intact so he pulls on the reins and gets closer to the horse. He holds on to the horse harness, that secures the horse to the carriage and climbs onto the horse. He clings onto the horse whilst pulling hard on the reins, hoping that this would make the horse stop. The pressure on the bit from the pulled reins slows the horse down, enough for someone to run up and stop the horse.

Stiles climbed down from the horse, his heart still racing and his mind was still in the porch chair, sipping root beer. The baroness who was on the carriage is brought down and she comes up to Stiles.

“You saved me, young man, if it weren’t for your quick reacting, it would have been catastrophic. Thank you!” The baroness says to Stiles.

“You’re welcome, Lady Margaret,” Stiles said, bowing down as that’s what he had seen others do.

“You don’t have to bow down, you saved me, you are a hero!” She announced.

Everyone who was out on the streets clapped since Stiles had stopped a scared horse that was galloping and headed straight to the redwood forest.

He looked around to see everyone cheering at his heroic feat. He couldn’t help but smile and nod at everyone.

The Baroness goes on another carriage to wherever she was going and everyone got back to what they were doing. Stiles walks back to his house where he sees his father and mother on the porch, smiling at him.

As Stiles walked up the porch and embraced his parents, who were impressed by their son, their small celebration was cut short by two journalists.

“Are you the boy who stopped the horse and saved Lady Margaret?” One of them asked Stiles.

“Er- yes, yes I am,” Stiles answers.

“We are here with the Beacon Hills Gazette, to report about the rogue carriage incident,” the shorter one said, holding up a notepad and pen.

“Come on in!” My father said, inviting them into the house.

Stiles’ father leads them in with Stiles going in last to close the door. His mother heads to the bedroom whilst his father sits them down on the couch. Stiles sits down on the armchair and his father goes to give them some privacy.

“Alrighty, I’m James Dunn, chief reporter at the Gazette,” The taller one introduced himself. He looked slim and lanky but was dressed quite lavishly, Stiles observed.

“And I’m Spencer Smith, deputy reporter at the Gazette,” The shorter, stubbier one chimed in. He was overweight and dressed similarly to James.

“So, what’s your name, young fella?” James asked, Spencer quickly flicked the notebook open to a new page to begin writing.

“Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski,” Stiles answered.

“Age?” He asked.

“Turned 17 today,” Stiles said.

“Happy birthday kiddo, so,” James said, leaning forward, “tell me what happened, every detail, one second shouldn’t even be left out.”

“So, I’m just sittin’ out on the porch, sipping some root beer and I hear some men hollering, and I look out on the road and see a rogue carriage with Lady Margaret screaming for her life as she was stuck inside,” Stiles began to tell James and Spencer the incident.

“Go on,” James said.

“So, I put my root beer down and run out to try to stop the horse. I grabbed onto its reins, I was sort of running alongside, but also being dragged by the horse until I climbed onto the horse while it’s galloping at full speed. I pulled on its reins until it slowly stopped.” Stiles said.

“That’s all?” James asked.

“That’s the main gist of it,” Stiles mumbled.

“Okay, how did you feel during the rescue?” James asked.

“Well, my heart was racing, the adrenaline was in my blood, all I thought was to stop the horse before it ran into the forest where the carriage would possibly hit a tree and injure Lady Margaret who was inside,” Stiles said.

“You are a local hero, boy, and you said your common name is Stiles, correct?” Spencer said.

Stiles nods.

“Hey, aren’t you that boy who’s seen with Derek these days? Are you a close friend?” James asks.

Stiles gulped at the sudden topic change to his relationship with Derek, “Derek and I are merely acquaintances,” he said.

“Do you know anything about Derek’s relationship with Paige Krasikeva? Do they meet each other outside of school? A source told us that they saw them attending prom together, do you know the reason why Paige later left with another boy and why Derek had left the prom early?” James quickly asked one question after the other, pressuring Stiles.

“I- I have no idea, Mr. Dunn, I’m terribly sorry,” Stiles apologized, although he knew the truth.

“Oh, we will on our way then, good day to you, kid,” James said, standing up and straightening his brown jacket.

Spencer got up and quickly followed James out the door. As soon as they were out the door, Stiles leaned down and melted in the armchair, sighing audibly.

He sits silently in the armchair, his head tilted and eyes closed, keeping his mind blank when someone taps on the window.

He looks left to see Peter, Derek’s uncle outside. Dressed as he was going to attend a funeral, his hair slicked back and head to toe dressed in black.

Stiles goes to the window and opens it, “Uh, hi?”

“Love-Interest-of-Derek, your presence right now is very much needed,” Peter said, yanking Stiles out the window.

“That was not necessary!” Stiles said as Peter put him down.

“C’mon, we’ve got some business, you and I,” Peter said, walking to the back of the house.

“Why me? I hardly know you!” Stiles said, catching up to Peter.

“Nobody really knows me, so good luck knowing me, love-interest-of-Derek,” Peter muttered.

“Would you stop using ‘love-interest-of-Derek’, I have a name,” Stiles said.

“What? The newest form of child abuse given to you? I can hardly say it, nor can I spell it and I am very articulate in the English language,” Peter said.

“It’s Polish, and what is the meaning of articulate?” Stiles asked.

“Fluent,” Peter said, stopping.

Stiles stops and looks around, he had been so concentrated on the conversation that he didn’t realize Peter had taken them to the middle of the woods.

“Peter, you better know where you’ve led us, I have to meet with Derek at 3,” Stiles said, looking around to see if he can see any houses around.

“At 3, you and Derek are meeting to do what?” Peter asked.

“Why do you need to know? Why do you even care about it anyway?” Stiles said, turning to where he thinks they were walking from to hopefully walk back to Beacon Hills.

“It’s peculiar seeing another couple who is a werewolf and a human and of the same sex, haven’t seen that in a long time, and the last couple I’ve seen were guillotined,” Peter nonchalantly said, as if it didn’t mean that Stiles and Derek had the possibility of getting their heads cut off.

“They- what now?!” Stiles said, not sure if Peter had said something that depressing in the most nonchalant and carefree way.

“You know like, krr-” Peter motioned his hand horizontally across his neck “- getting your head chopped off.”

“Oh god, and you say that so calmly like it doesn’t affect you at all!” Stiles said, disgusted as his mind made a visual image of two chopped off heads.

“What can I say? I am a dead, soulless werewolf, Stiles, now shut up so I can focus on a way to get us back on track,” Peter said.

Stiles shuts up and lets Peter use his ‘werewolf super senses’ to get them back to civilization.

Peter turns to his right and continues walking, Stiles follows hoping that Peter was walking back to his house.

They reached the town, but it was the other side of Beacon Hills. Closer to the Hale house than Stiles’ humble abode.

“Why am I here again?” Stiles asked Peter.

“Because you are love-interest-of-Derek,” Peter said, climbing over the metal gate fence.

“You know it was open right?” Stiles said, swinging it open and letting himself in.

“Certainly,” Peter muttered.

They walked to the Chateau which seemed empty at the moment. Stiles looks over to the stables and sees Richard hauling hay bales in from the storeroom next to the stables.

Peter is already getting inside the house whilst Stiles was only at the steps, he was fast even when wearing a black long trench coat.

Stiles hops up the steps and accidentally bumps into a butler.

“Who are you?” He asks.

“Er- “Stiles said before Peter interrupted him.

“He’s with me,” Peter said.

The butler nods and walks away. Stiles follows Peter up to what Stiles guessed was his room. Inside, Peter takes out a suitcase from underneath the bed and puts it on the bed.

“So, will you tell me what we’re doing here?” Stiles impatiently asked Peter.

“You need to line Derek’s room with mountain ash. I would usually make one of the butlers do it, but we have you now, so you shall do it,” Peter instructed, giving a big glass bottle of what seemed like black sand to Stiles.

“What’s going to happen to him if I line it around his room?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, he can’t get into his room then,” Peter said. 

“Why are we doing that to Derek?” Stiles asked, opening the jar to look closer at the black ash.

“It’s tradition to do it, so before he comes home at 2, we need to cover the room’s floor with mountain ash,” Peter said.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?” Stiles asked.

“I can’t,” Peter said, glowing his eyes, “supernatural creatures can’t touch mountain ash, or pass through it.”

“Okay, I’ll do it, but don’t blame me,” Stiles asked, getting out the room to go to Derek’s room.

Stiles went into the room and he began lining the room with a thin line of mountain ash. The jar was fully empty when he lined the whole room and he stepped out.

“The deed is done,” Stiles says handing the empty jar to Peter who was waiting out in the hallway.

“Took you almost an hour to do all that?” Peter said, slightly disappointed.

“What time is it now?” Stiles asked.

“1 pm,” Peter said, taking his pocket watch out from his coat jacket.

“I’m starving, I should go home to eat,” Stiles said.

“No, you don’t need to, besides, what will you eat at home, huh?” Peter asked.

“Some leftover breakfast oats?” Stiles said.

“Rubbish, it’s your birthday today, you will have a Hale dinner today,” Peter said.

“How did you know it’s my birthday?” Stiles asked.

“I might have been eavesdropping last night and today,” The older one said, “ now, it’s dinner time.”

Peter strides down the stairs and into the dining room where dinner was set for Peter only since he was the only one at home during dinner.

“Andrew! Where is this visitor’s plate?” Peter said at the butler.

“Coming, sir,” Andrew said and he went to the kitchen.

Peter sits down and Stiles sits across from him. Andrew walks in a while later with a servant holding a plate for Stiles. They set it down in front of Stiles and poured him a glass of water as well. Peter gets a glass of wine, well two glasses.

They lift the cloches, revealing a well-portioned dinner of rice, chicken, and vegetables.

“Is this what you eat for dinner every day?” Stiles asked.

“Why yes, is there a problem?” Peter said, tucking a napkin into the collar of his shirt.

“No, there’s no problem,” Stiles mumbled, shaking his head.

“Then eat up, buttercup,” Peter said in a sing-song tone.

Stiles hungrily eats up the plate, making sure to leave not even 1 grain of rice behind. As soon as he was done, he felt immensely full, he never had a full stomach as far as he could remember into the past. The servants take his plate away and refill Peter’s glasses of wine.

Stiles wipes his mouth on the napkin and the main doors open. Someone had come home.

“Ah, Derek! Finally home I see, how was school?” Peter said, standing up with a glass of wine in his hand.

“It was monotonous,” Derek says, and pauses, he gets closer to Peter and sniffs around the dining room, not noticing Stiles yet, “why do you smell like Stiles?”

Peter sips on his wine and smirks at Derek.

“What did you do to him?” Derek asked, dropping his bag on the floor, “I swear to god if you bit him-”

“Relax, he’s right there, unharmed,” Peter said, pointing to Stiles.

Derek looks at Stiles who was sitting in the chair, silently sipping on the cold water. Stiles waves at Derek and Derek instantly felt idiotic for jumping to conclusions.

“Sorry,” Derek said, picking up his bag, as he left to go to his room.

Peter silently follows and motions Stiles to come as well to which Stiles also follows them.

Peter stifles his giggles while Stiles couldn’t stop breaking into huge grins.

As soon as Derek reaches his room, he tries to pass through the mountain ash only to be pushed backward by the force field created by the mountain ash. He fell on the floor and Stiles’ eye widened as it looked as if Derek passed out.

“Is he okay?” Stiles asked Peter.

“Oh, he’ll be fine, after all, he’s a werewolf, we heal in seconds,” Peter said.

“I bet you made Stiles do it this time,” Derek groaned as he got up from the floor.

“I didn’t know it was going to do that!” Stiles said.

“Now, you need to cut the line,” Derek tells Stiles.

“How do I do that?”Stiles asks.

“Just swipe on the mountain ash line you created to create a gap,” Derek instructs Stiles.

“Okay,” Stiles says, going into the room and crouching down near the line and creating a gap in the line of ash.

Derek puts his hand in to make sure the barrier was broken. His hand is unharmed and he walks in the room cautiously. He places his bag on the chair and takes the uniform’s coat off.

“A little privacy, please?” Derek said looking at Stiles and Peter.

“Oh, er, yes,” Stiles said, walking out the room.

Derek closes the door leaving Stiles and Peter outside in the hallways. Stiles looks at the family portrait hung on the wall.

“That’s me, my sister, her husband, my nieces, Laura and Cora and there’s my nephew and your someone, Derek,” He said, pointing to each one.

“Huh, how old was Derek in this?” Stiles asks.

“He was 10,” Peter said.

“Well, he looks, young,” Stiles said.

“Puberty hit him in the guts when he went into his teenage years,” Peter said.

Derek steps out of his room and clears his throat, “are we still going to the library?”

“Yes, of course!” Stiles says.

They both go down the stairs and Peter would follow them, but he wanted to go terrorize little children instead.

“So, I heard a rumor about a young boy saving Lady Margaret from a rogue carriage?” Derek said.

“Oh, it was completely crazy! I can’t even wrap my head around what happened!” Stiles exclaimed.

“So, your birthday has been quite eventful,” Derek remarked.

“Yeah, but my favorite part has just started,” Stiles said.

“Which is?” Derek asks.

“Spending the evening with you, you dumb brick,” Stiles said, teasing Derek of his bluntness, “I’m going to assume the werewolf-liness traded your awareness in the language sense for some of these muscles.”

Derek glares at Stiles who grins in return, ‘sorry, not sorry!’ Stiles thought.

“Oh, hey Stiles, didn’t know you were here!” Richard said, as soon as they stepped in the stables.

“Peter sort of brought me here, with my partial consent,” Stiles said.

Bullet was tacked, and raring to go on a ride with his master. His bay brown coat shining in the evening sun as Derek guides him outside.

“And here is your horse,” Richard said, handing me the reins of a giant shire and a pair of riding boots.

“Wha- I- I don’t even know how to ride!” Stiles said to Richard.

“That is why Derek told me to tack up the gentlest giant we have, named ironically Big Ben, lovingly called Benny,” Richard said.

“I thought we were going to the library?” Stiles asked Derek.

“Well, I have riding class from 2:15 to 3, we are going to do that and then go,” Derek said, putting his riding boots on.

“If you’re the one having the lesson, why should I ride? I can just watch,” Stiles asked.

“Shut up and get on the stallion already,” Derek said, pulling himself up on Bullet.

Stiles puts on the riding boots, they were a size too big. He guides Benny to the mounting block and uses it to get on the horse, balancing himself onto the saddle. The ground seemed way farther down than it did on Bullet.

“I can’t, I can’t, this is way too high,” Stiles mumbled.

Derek walks Bullet over and holds Benny’s reins moving Benny into a walk. Stiles, no matter how smooth and gently Benny was walking, holding onto the reins until the skin around his knuckles were whiter than white.

“Use your legs if you want Benny to go faster by squeezing him gently on the stomach, with a small pull on the reins, he’ll slow down. If you want him to turn, pull on either side of the rein. Until we reach the indoor arena, I’ll guide Benny, you will only have to sit there and hold onto the reins.” Derek instructed as they rode to a big building on the side of the stables.

Derek opens the gate, without even having to get off the horse and he leads Benny inside and closes the gate.

“Ah, Derek, I see you brought a friend,” The instructor said.

“Teach him to ride as well, we will talk about finances later,” Derek said, knowing that the instructor will ask if Stiles was going to pay.

Derek begins his starting exercises of cantering around the arena, and the instructor sets up some jumps for him to practice. The instructor tells Stiles how to sit correctly on the saddle and makes him walk Benny whilst he was attached to a lunge.

Stiles glanced at Derek from time to time, Bullet and him looked graceful as they jumped over the jumps, the instructor shouting praise at both Derek and Bullet.

The hour passed quite quickly and Stiles was somewhat comfortable walking Benny on his own. As the lesson ended, Derek gets off his horse and takes a 50 dollar bill out of his wallet and hands it to the instructor.

“I’ll pay the rest if you don’t tell my father that I had him ride with me today,” Derek tells the instructor.

The instructor nods at the thought of getting more money, to which Derek hands another 50 to him. He goes happily on his way and Derek guides both horses out of the arena.

“Did you just bribe him?” Stiles asks.

“Yes, yes I did,” Derek said, nodding.

At the stables, Stiles gets off the tall Shire, after Richard placed a hay bale on the mounting block since Stiles was not willing to take any chances of falling off a horse as tall as Benny.

“Can we head to the library now?” Stiles asks, taking the riding boots off and wearing his normal slightly worn-out leather boots.

“Why do you actually want to go to the library? To read or to kiss me, because if it’s the latter, I know a better, more private place,” Derek asks Stiles after Richard was out of earshot.

“It’s my birthday, surprise me,” Stiles said, subtly referring that he was indeed wanting to kiss Derek.

“Come on, then,” Derek said, guiding Stiles around the house to the backyard.

Stiles’ heart quickened as he followed Derek. ‘Am I excited or nervous?’ Stiles thought to himself, ‘definitely both.’ 

Derek leads Stiles into a greenhouse that was situated quite far from the chateau. The glass facing the house was covered in vines making it hard to see through for peeping eyes. Derek closes the door and turns to Stiles, who had a small smirk on his face.

“What?” Derek asked, walking closer to Stiles.

‘I want you to push me against the support beam behind me and kiss me like it was the end of the world,’ Stiles wanted to say, instead, he said, “kiss me, you fool.”

Derek brings the boy closer and kisses him with the tenderest of touches. Stiles reciprocates, and the soft kiss became more passionate, and nothing else but Derek mattered to Stiles. Derek’s hands cradle the smaller boy and Stiles’ hands are at Derek’s back, clutching his shirt. Their lips move in unison, and so do their bodies. Stiles’ heart beats like he had run a marathon and he had never felt this way, ever.

When they parted, Stiles and Derek were breathless.

“Der-” Stiles gasps.

Derek quickly joins lips with the smaller boy, and he guides Stiles to a support beam, leaning him against the wood beam. Their bodies created friction against each other and it was both the best thing Stiles had ever felt and the worst form of torture because it wasn’t enough. Derek’s hands were everywhere, but it didn’t matter to Stiles.

“Strip,” Derek ordered, tugging at Stiles’ shirt collar.

“O-ok,” Stiles stuttered, nodding as he started stripping down. Pulling his shirt off and with trembling hands, pulled his pants off. Derek kicks their clothes to the side, as both boys were in boxers.

“I’m nervous, I don’t know what to do,” Stiles honestly tells Derek.

“No need to be, I’ll make you feel so good, lie down here for me, love,” Derek softly said.

Stiles lies down on the wood floor of the greenhouse, Derek towering over him. The rays streaming in from the glass roof made Derek look angelic, his skin glowed goldenly, and his muscles, the curvature of his body defined by light and shadow.

Derek sinks to his knees and kisses Stiles’ inner thighs, moving up to his hips, chest, collarbone sucking a couple of hickeys onto the pale skin, his lips making their way up the cheekbones and to Stiles’ lips. Derek kisses Stiles, sucking his bottom lip. 

Derek senses something pressing between his thighs. ‘Someone’s excited,' He thought.

Derek pushes himself back up, kneeling with Stiles lying between his legs. Derek awkwardly moves backward and stops at Stiles’ thighs.

“Is it okay if I?” Derek asks.

“Y-yes,” Stiles consents, through ragged breaths.

Derek slips Stiles’ boxers off and admires the rigid cock, softly gliding his fingers over the pulsating veins to which Stiles grunts softly. Derek bends down and drags his tongue from the base to the tip of the hard cock, he feels Stiles tremble from pleasure beneath him.

He swirls his wet tongue around the tip of the cock before he engulfs the cock with his mouth. He presses his tongue against the underside of the shaft, wrapping his lips around and he moves his head up and down slowly.

Stiles let out a strained moan since he did not want to make much noise. Stiles’ arms tensed up, flat on the floor as his back arched as adrenaline rushed to his mind. He felt as if his mind was about to explode, in a good way though. His toes curl and he balls his hands into fists. Sweat dripped down his face, he would wipe them off, but his mind was overcome with feelings, with Derek.

“F-fuck, Derek, Oh God!” Stiles cries out, as Derek sucks on him, “I’m about to come.”

Derek kneels back up and Stiles’ cock was coated in his warm saliva. “Then come for me, love,” he growls, making eye contact with Stiles. Stiles’ light brown eyes lock with Derek’s eyes for a slight second before Stiles drops his head backward, making a light thud as it hits the wood floor.

Stiles shakily breathes as he comes on his stomach. He feels dizzy for a moment but it is overcome with a feeling of haziness, intoxication as if he is drifting in space. Feeling infinite as small waves of static soreness sweeps through Stiles’ self. Derek lies down next to Stiles on the wood floor. The wood floor wasn’t comfortable, but they both were tired enough to not care.

“Oh, Derek,” Stiles murmured, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my handsome polish boy,” Derek whispered in Stiles’ ear.

The aroma of hot sweat and semen mix with the earthly smells of the greenhouse. The sun was right above the horizon and the clouds were a pink tinge with purple shadows. The feeling of haze, floating mindlessly, and the waves of static slowly fade away and reality dawns upon Stiles.

Everything that just happened felt so wrong, so sinful, yet, it felt so right, so pleasurable.

~

Chapter Text

~

“We should get cleaned up,” Stiles said after a while.

“There’s a garden hose behind the greenhouse that’s connected to a well. We can use that since it’s too risky to go to the house, my parents will be home,” Derek said, standing up.

“Ok,” Stiles said, standing up and following Derek out the small back door. Derek takes the hose that was hanging on the hook and turns the tap on.

Derek hands Stiles the hose and heads inside the greenhouse. He washes himself and Derek had brought his clothes. Stiles slips into his trousers and boots and quickly wears his shirt. Stiles' hair was ruffled so Derek combs through it gently. Derek’s shirt collar was folded inward from being put on in a small rush.

“Oh, uh, your collar,” Stiles said, fixing it.

“Thanks, and we should sneak you out quickly, my father shouldn’t know you were here,” Derek said.

They both walk behind the bushes and trees, Derek leads Stiles to the side entrance behind the stables.

Derek opens the gate, and since it was rarely used, it slightly creaked as he swung it open.

“Thank you, for making today the best birthday ever,” Stiles said.

“Oh, uh, my pleasure?” Derek said.

“If it isn’t too personal, may I ask, how did you know how to do that?” Stiles asks.

“To do what?” Derek asks.

“The thing you did,” Stiles said.

“Oh, yeah that, we discuss later, I hear my father’s horse being tacked up, he’ll be here soon,” Derek quickly said.

“Ok, I guess I see you whenever I see you,” Stiles mumbled walking out the gate.

The sun was setting and setting fast, Stiles scurried home as was in time for dinner.

“Stiles, you’re home, where did you go after the interview? It seemed like you disappeared into thin air!” His father said.

“Oh, er, well I had one thing I had to do, so, yeah,” Stiles said, sitting down at the table.

Stuart was sitting in front of Stiles with what seemed like his half-empty root beer bottle in his hand.

“Is that my root beer?” Stiles asks.

“I found it next to the porch chair, why?” Stuart said, drinking a sip of it, loudly.

Stiles glared at his brother as he takes a spoon of mashed potatoes from the pot and puts it in the center of his plate. He takes two sausages and another spoon of steamed vegetables.

“Why such a grand supper tonight?” Stiles asks.

“Your mother wanted you two to end the day with a big supper,” His father said.

“It’s very delicious,” Stuart said, eating a forkful of steamed vegetables.

Stiles takes a spoon of the mashed potatoes, and it felt like Thanksgiving in April, without the turkey.

“So, what did you spend doing today, pa said you were gone since the morning,” Stuart said, raising his one eyebrow.

“Just did some things, y’know, nothing much,” Stiles said.

“Oh,” Stuart said, eyeing him with the look that meant, ‘you better tell me everything later or else…’.

Stiles rolls his eyes at his brother and continues eating his supper. Their father was the first to leave the table along with their mother, leaving Stiles and Stuart alone.

“So, what did you do all day?” Stuart asked, standing up and putting his plate in the sink.

“Stuart, I’m not telling you, not here, not anywhere,” Stiles firmly said.

“Aww, c’mon, that’s a dead giveaway,” Stuart said, “Something with Derek, no?”

Stiles gets up from his seat and puts his empty plate in the sink. He glares at his brother before walking away to their room. Stuart follows, skipping down the hallway and up the stairs.

Stiles had taken his clothes off and hanged them on the backrest of his chair. Stuart walks in and jumps onto his bed.

“Soo, what did you two do?” Stuart said.

“Things,” Stiles said, sitting on his bed, ‘Amazing things’.

“Specifically?” Stuart asked, wanting his brother to go into details.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Stiles said, lying down on his bed.

“Hmph, suit yourself,” Stuart said, squirming out of his clothes in bed.

Stiles hesitates to say it for a while but he turns around to face Stuart, “Would you be mad if I do say what we did?” he asked his brother.

“Mad, depends, did you put any insects anywhere here?” Stuart said, looking around.

“No, but it’s not that, but if I tell you, you have to promise me that you will keep it a secret,” Stiles said.

“A secret, huh, it depends on the juiciness of what you’re about to tell me,” Stuart said, attentively listening

“You know that I got jumped by Monty and Johnny, yesterday,” Stiles said.

“Yeah, they thought you were gay, oh wait-” Stuart said connecting the two and two together- “are you?” he gasped.

Stiles breathes deeply, and he squeaks out a small, “kinda, maybe, I don’t know?”

“You do know it’s a sin right?” Stuart said, lowering his voice.

“And that I might get killed, yes, but the confusing part is that I also happen to like girls,” Stiles said.

“Is that possible?” Stuart asked.

Stiles turns to lie on his back, “I don’t know,” he sighed.

“You’re dead if anyone finds out,” Stuart said.

“Tell me about it,” Stiles muttered as he closed his eyes to sleep.

“So, you and Derek kissed?” Stuart asked.

Stiles doesn’t reply, he was tired and he had already said too much.

"Root beer in exchange for the details?" Stuart asked.

"A very persuading tactic, but I’d have to decline, just go to sleep Stuart," Stiles muttered.

~

Chapter Text

~

In the span of three days, Stuart had tried to get Stiles to open up more, he even threatened to read Stiles’ journal. He couldn’t even if he tried to. Stiles hid it in a place Stuart wouldn’t care to look, under their bed.

Stiles was still on medical leave and today he had to make a quick visit to the hospital. He wore his usual outfit and headed out to the hospital. It was going well into the evening when he started his trip to the hospital. He had to admit, being on medical leave was making his lazier than he’d ever been in his life.

He walks up to the reception desk at the hospital and a nurse comes up to him.

“Yes?” she asks.

“Uh, I’m here for my appointment with Dr. Walters,” he said.

“Ok, I’ll let him know, you can sit in the waiting room,” the nurses said, gesturing to the waiting room.

Stiles nods and goes to sit down in the waiting room. A while later, the same nurse comes up and takes him to the doctor’s room.

“So, how long has it been since we stitched it up?” Dr. Walters asked.

"Ten days, I believe so," Stiles answered, sitting down on the patient examining table

"Yes, that's true, now let's see if you've been taking care of the wound as I had instructed you to," The doctor said, standing up from the desk, "Roll up your sleeve, please."

Stiles rolls his sleeve up and the doctor takes the bandage off to find what he had expected. It was healing well and showed no signs of infection.

"Well, Stiles, the stitches can be taken out now," the doctor said, turning around to the drawer with the medical tools.

Stiles gulped as he pulled out medical tweezers and scissors.

"No need to worry, it doesn't hurt," the doctor assured.

The doctor carefully tugs on the stitch knots with the tweezers to loosen them and then uses the scissors to cut it. Stiles watched curiously as it only felt like someone was tugging at his skin. In less than 10 minutes all the stitches were taken out and instead of a big bandage, small strips of medical tape were put on.

"Don't remove them on purpose, they'll fall off eventually, and remember to keep the area clean," the doctor instructed as he began washing the medical tools and his hands.

"Alright, thank you, Dr. Walters," Stiles said as he opened the door.

The doctor nods and Stiles walks out. He steps out of the hospital and begins walking home.

On the way home, he decides to stroll down the main road, looking into the windows of the stores. Clothes, Hardware, and many different other new shops had opened in Beacon Hills.

Stopping in front of a clothes store, he looked at a mannequin wearing a suit. It was grey with white stripes complemented with a red tie.

The reflection of his face on the store window made it seem like he was wearing it. He straightened his posture and arrogantly looked at himself.

“Stuart? No, I’m the one, the only, Stiles Stilinski,” he muttered to himself.

He continued walking back home. The roads have been getting more crowded with automobiles that don’t even need horses! It looks purely automatic and Stiles still hasn’t gotten used to the engine noise, a nuisance.

As he walked into the neighborhood area he lived in, the sound of engines became smaller as most people here were too poor to have one. Stiles sees a ball being thrown at him and without a second thought, he dodges it, only to graze past his ear.

“C’mon! I wasn’t ready!” he hollered to the small kids who threw it at him.

They giggled and went past him to get the ball.

He smiled to himself, “kids.”

Inside the house, it felt eerily silent, his mother nor his father was home. He stops in the kitchen to find Stuart, sitting silently, looking outside the window.

“Stu? Where’s ma and pa? What happened and why are you here early?” Stiles asked.

Stuart moves his gaze to meet Stiles, his eyes filled with worry, “They are at the hospital.”

“Stuart that answers none of the questions. What happened?” Stiles urged Stuart, gripping his brother’s shoulders.

“I- I don’t know, all I know is that Ma is in labor, that’s all Pa said when he came to the mines only to leave for the hospital,” Stuart muttered.

“Did he sound like normal worried Pa or worried out of his mind Pa?” Stiles asked.

“Worried to the point of possible death due to hyperventilation Pa, something might be wrong with Ma,” Stuart said.

“Oh, when did they leave?” Stiles said pacing in the kitchen.

“It would be 15 minutes now,” Stuart said.

“And you’ve been sitting here? Like a complete idiot?!” Stiles snapped.

“I- I didn’t know what else to do!” his brother retorted, throwing his hands into the air.

“C’mon, we’re going, I can’t believe you sat here when we should be there, in the hospital, with pa,” Stiles said, pulling Stuart up from his seat.

Stiles darts out the door and Stuart catches up to him after closing the door. Stiles couldn’t give a damn about closing the door right now. They quickly walk out of the house and stride down the streets, hoping they get to the hospital in time.

Taking a right turn into an alleyway, the fastest way to get to the hospital without the worry of hitting an automobile only to stop right in front of Monty and Johnny.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” Monty sneered.

Stiles and Stuart looked at each other and nodded.

“Sorry not sorry, but we don’t have time for this,” Stiles said as he uppercut Monty’s jaw with all his power while Johnny got a good punch to the stomach by Stuart.

“What are they made out of? Boulders?” Stuart said, shaking his hand.

The boys tumble down onto the brick road making way for Stiles and Stuart to pass through. They run down the alleyway, sprinting as fast as they can to the hospital.

Without thinking about anything, they walk into the hospital and start going down the hallways when they are stopped by a security guard.

“Woah, boys, where are you headed to?” the guard asked.

“Uhmm,” Stuart hummed.

“Our ma is here with our pa, we want to meet her,” Stiles answered the guard’s question.

“Do you know the room number?” the guard asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uhh, no, but there’s pa over there!” Stuart said pointing at a random person facing their back.

The guard turns around to look at where Stuart pointed to. Stiles looked at his brother confused.

“But that isn't-” Stiles started to say only to be shushed by his brother, putting a hand over his mouth.

The security guard turns around and nods at them, “go on.”

Stiles and Stuart quickly walk over and start trying to find their father. They go to the second floor to find him waiting anxiously, pacing up and down the hallway in front of the labor and delivery room.

“Pa,” Stiles said, and his father quickly turned around.

They walk up to each other and hug, Stiles felt his father’s panic and worry reflected on himself.

“How’s ma?” Stuart asked as they stepped out of the hug.

Just as he said so, their mother let out a blood-curdling scream from inside the labor room. It sent shivers up Stiles’ spine. The scream echoed through the hallway and left a grim silence.

“Look, pa, she’s going to fight. She will be alright. She and our sibling. She is in the care of Dr. Walters right?” Stiles said, “Dr. Walters isn’t going to let us down.”

A nurse comes out of the labor room, “Mr. Stilinski?”

With the doors open, for a second, he heard a baby’s cry. His heart fluttered, his ma and their baby sibling was okay.

“That’s me,” their father said as he walked after the nurse into the room.

Stiles and Stuart wait outside and after some time, they sit down on the chairs across the labor room.

Their mother was wheeled out sometime after and their father silently walked alongside and so did Stiles and Stuart. In the room, their mother was exhausted and couldn’t say a word. The nurse began to feed her to help her regain energy from the grueling 2-hour labor that

“What happened?” Stiles and Stuart softly whispered to their father once they stepped outside the room.

“Your sister, she’s not going to live for long,” he said.

Stiles felt utterly sad, he felt a lump in his throat, “excuse me,” he uttered and walked down the hallways.

He quickly scampered down the stairs and outside onto the hospital courtyard. The sun had set and the sky was in hues of dark blue and purple.

~

Derek was completing his Spanish homework when he felt something. No, someone. Pain panged from his heart. Pure and deep sorrow. It’s not that he is sad, but all his mind came up with was;

“Stiles,” he whispered.

He didn’t have time to think why he was feeling this, but his instincts were telling him one thing, Stiles. He puts on a coat and gets out of his room. He runs to the stables and gets Bullet out. He didn’t have time for tacking up the horse so he got on bareback and rode out. Richard shouting after him.  As he passed the hospital on the way to Stiles’ house, his keen sense of smell picked up on Stiles’ scent. He turns his horse around and rides into the hospital courtyard. He sees Stiles, sitting on a bench, his head buried in his hands.

The sense of sadness was heavier, it was laced with guilt and worry. Derek felt like it could choke him. That meant it would be suffocating for Stiles. The boy takes notice of Derek who was weirdly standing over him.

“Derek? What are you doing here?” Stiles asked, quickly wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“Stiles, are you okay?” Derek asked.

“I don’t know, no, maybe?” Stiles said, “No. I’m not okay.”

“What happened?” Derek asked, sitting down next to Stiles.

“My mother, she went into labor today-” he stopped for a moment- “my sister, she won’t live for long.”

Derek stayed silent, he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good with emotions, his or others. He slowly opened his arms and brought the boy closer to himself. Stiles clutched onto Derek, as hot tears streamed down his cheeks.

Derek slowly rubbed his hand up and down Stiles’ back, as his mother would do when he got hurt while running around the mansion during his young childhood days.

“Thank you,” Stiles’ murmured.

“Now, go spend some time with your sister, you wouldn’t want to waste it here,” Derek instructed, “I’ll be here.”

Stiles nodded and stood up. Derek looked at the boy as he walked up to the hospital and disappeared behind the hospital doors.

~

Stiles scampered up the stairs and wiped his tears before entering the room. His mother was awake now and his father with his brother was standing near a cot.

Stiles pushes Stuart and sees his baby sister, struggling in the cot, her breathing ragged and irregular.

“How long does she have left?” Stiles whispered.

“She might live to see the sunrise tomorrow,” his father said, he softly caressed the baby’s cheek and forehead.

‘She might,’ echoed through Stiles’ head.

It’s not a solid answer, she could pass before or after the sun makes its round. Stiles’ hates the uncertainty the answer brings. It chews a hole in himself, not knowing the exact details of something that makes Stiles go insane.

“A- Amelia,” his mother mumbled.

“What is it, love?” his father said, quickly moving to her.

“Her name,” she weakly said, “Amelia.”

“Amelia,” Stiles mumbled, low enough for only himself to hear.

Stiles moves to the side of the cot and bends down, close enough that he could see the small eyelashes on his sister. He admired the small features of her, her button nose, small fingers and toes, the soft rise and fall of her chest when she breathed.

“Hello, Amelia,” Stiles whispered to her.

Her eyes open for a slight moment, whisky colored eyes just like his and Stuart’s. Stiles softly smiled as he tapped the bars of the cot.

“I’m your big brother,” Stiles said, “Stiles.”

“And I’m your other big brother,” Stuart said, crouching down beside Stiles, “I’m Stuart.”

“We are going to take care of you now, but soon, you’re going to be looking over us,” Stiles said.

“Yeah, sort of like a guardian angel,” Stuart chimed in, “do you know what that is?”

Amelia moved her head slightly to the left, towards them both.

“She knows,” Stuart said looking at Stiles.

Stiles rolls his eyes and slightly pushes Stuart with his body. He looks back at Amelia who looked like she was about to cry. Her face contorted with wrinkles as she let out a small cry.

Their father quickly moves over and picks her up. Being mindful of not pulling on any wires or tubes. He cradles her and softly shushes the whimpering baby. Amelia quiets down and falls back asleep, his father softly lowers her down into the cot.

Soon enough the nurses come to take Amelia into the intensive care unit. She had to be under 24-hour watch in hopes of her surviving.

Stiles and Stuart step back and Stiles glances at his mother. She was staring at her baby being reeled away when she realized Stiles was looking at her. Her dark brown eyes locking with Stiles as she motioned him to come to her. Stiles quickly walks up to her and holds her hand.

“She looks just like you,” she said.

“Not like Stuart?” Stiles asks, mischievously smiling at her.

She laughs, “Stuart is, something else.”

Stiles looks back at Stuart who was staring at his own reflection in the metal tabletop, carding his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, he is Stuart after all,” Stiles said, turning back to face his mother.

She lightly chuckles and yawns.

“You should get some rest, ma,” Stiles said, softly squeezing her hand, “you must be very tired after today.”

“Take care of her for me,” she said, “take care of yourself for me as well.”

“I will,” Stiles promises.

She lies down comfortably and he helps her with her blanket. He turned the light off as his father also had no choice but to retire for the night in an armchair. Stiles and Stuart sat down on the couch and Stuart took more than half of the couch.

Stiles sighs as he stands up from the couch, he goes to the window to see Derek nodding off on the bench. Any last ounce of sleep that Stiles had was nonexistent. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep tonight, he couldn’t.

So in the midst of the late-night, Stiles creeps out of the room. He walks down the mainly empty hallway and out onto the courtyard. He saw Derek’s head perk up as he heard Stiles’ footsteps on the gravel path.

“You didn’t have to wait, Derek,” Stiles said, stopping in front of him.

“But I did,” Derek answered.

“Thank you for telling me to go back in and spend time with my sister,” Stiles confessed.

“Well, you would have regretted doing otherwise,” he muttered.

“Did any of your siblings pass away?” Stiles asked, “no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“It’s okay, and yes, two of my siblings did, shortly after childbirth,” Derek said.

Stiles sits down next to him, “and you didn’t spend time with them?”

“Yes, I thought it would be easier to cope with their deaths by not meeting them in the first place, but after they passed away, I deeply regret not spending time with them at all,” Derek said.

“I’m sorry that that happened to you,” Stiles apologized.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” Derek muttered.

“You should go home now, you can’t sit here and nod off when your bed’s waiting for you,” Stiles said.

“Stiles, I’m not leaving you,” Derek said.

“No, you won’t, that is why I will be walking you to your home,” Stiles said standing up and trying to pull Derek to his feet.

“You will not walk all the way with me to my home,” Derek said.

“I will,” Stiles protested.

“No, you won’t,”

“Yes, I will,”

“Stiles,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “you will stay here and so will I.”

“Why? Why are you staying here when you don’t even need to?”

“Because I care about you.”

Stiles, although he knew that Derek cared about him, was still taken aback by his statement, “you shouldn’t.”

“Stiles, I care about you, I care about you very deeply,”

“I care about you too, that is why I’m telling you to go home and sleep, you’re tired and it’s late. Go home and sleep,” Stiles urged Derek.

~

Derek knew he couldn’t persuade Stiles, nor did he want to push the boy. So he softly kissed Stiles' forehead and left on his horse.

Stiles watched him disappear at the gates and he wandered around the hospital, eventually making it into the room where his family was asleep. He yawns and sits down, leaning against the wall. He looks out the window and sees a moon, almost full.

‘Tomorrow night might have a full moon,’ he wondered as he sleepily batted his eyes.

He had to admit, he was exhausted and sleepy. He just didn’t want to fall asleep, he felt as if he shouldn’t. He rubs his eyes and stands back up again. Walking into the bathroom he stares at himself in the mirror before turning the tap on. He washes his face with the cold water, waking himself up a little. He turns the tap off and goes out of the bathroom.

He stands in the middle of the room, just listening to the quiet ambiance of the night when he was startled by Stuart.

“You’re handsome-” Stuart sleepily mumbled before turning to the other side on the couch.

“Who’s handsome?” Stiles whispered to his sleeping brother as he leaned closer to him.

“Me,” Stuart said before he went back to sleep.

Stiles rolled his eyes, his brother was dreaming of none other than himself, ‘Narcissistic bastard,’ Stiles thought.

He pulls Stuart’s legs off the couch, making just enough space for him to sit down. Sinking into the couch felt so relieving, he couldn’t help but lean his head back and close his eyes.

~