Chapter Text
Stiles was running late. Surprisingly. Very surprisingly. Because despite being late to almost everything he was never late to pack meetings. It was most likely because he was more motivated to attend them than school or work. At least with his friends he wasn’t getting shouted at for missing homework or for spilling something at the shop he worked at. At least with his friends he wasn’t at home.
The bad thing about running late in this situation is not because he was going to get a late mark on his attendance or a scolding from his manager but instead it was because his dad was home. Not an obvious thing to be worried about but for Stiles it was all too much of a commonplace. With his dad home it meant he had to sneak out in order to not be punished for seeing his friends when he wasn’t allowed to.
Sheriff Stilinski limiting Stiles’ time seeing his friends seems, on the surface, an innocent thing. Just something to get his hyperactive son motivated to do some work. But in reality, it came with harsh punishments and even harsher words. And Stiles had never told anyone in all his years. Out of fear mainly. Not because he didn’t think people wouldn’t believe him but because he thought people would. He was terrified that his dad would get taken away from him. As even though there were moments where he wished more than anything that he was in different circumstances he did love his dad. So much.
So he suffered through everything because if his dad thought it was making him into a better person then it must be…right?
The problem Stiles was facing then: getting out the house. He couldn’t skip the pack meeting again. He didn’t go last week and he’d already told his friends he would go. They would worry if he didn’t turn up. He’d snuck out before but it was always a risky thing. But he was willing to do it to see his friends. So after a few moments contemplation he clambered out his window making as little noise as he possibly could.
After landing rather uncomfortably on the ground below after the small jump down he snuck away from the house, ducking under his living room window since his dad was currently occupying it. His next problem then was how he was going to get to the Hale House. It was too far away to walk. If he had to walk to the preserve then all the way to the house he would definitely worry his friends by being late. And he couldn’t lie about why he was late because they were werewolves. And while they were oblivious most of the time when they were worried they picked up on the tiniest of details. Like a jump in heart beat when lying.
So he couldn’t walk. Driving was definitely out of the question as his dad would hear the car leave the house and he’d pay a price when he got home. The only other option were the buses. But with a small town like Beacon Hills the buses were infrequent and didn’t run very late. But he was left with little choice. With a sigh Stiles started walking to the nearest bus stop to check the times.
He shivered a little on his walk. He thought, absentmindedly, that he should’ve brought a jacket. It was winter after all. But then again it was California so it never got that cold but it did feel chilly to Stiles. He wrapped his arms around him to keep heat, ignoring the ache in his side when he did so. He still had a bruise there.
He reached the bus stop soon enough and found that, thankfully, there was one last bus that went from his stop to the stop outside the preserve. He sat down in the shelter trying his best not to start shaking from the cold. He was never the best at regulating his body temperature. He was only there for about five minutes until the bus came along the street and he had to wave it down.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped on board and was hit with a wave of warmth that felt oddly comforting. He paid and took a seat at the back pulling out his headphones in the process. Stumbling into his seat, he winced as the bus took off before he had time to sit. The pain in his side now exacerbated, he took a few breaths until the pain dulled down again.
He opened Spotify on his phone and threw on his ‘vroom vroom’ playlist. Intended for use in any vehicle and filled with all around bops to get everyone hyped. He needed a bit of hype in that moment.
The ride was overall not great. Unusually bumpy and uncomfortable but Stiles arrived at the preserve pretty quickly and braced the cold again as he stepped off the bus. He waited for it to drive away before he started walking into the dense trees. It would look a bit weird if someone saw him.
He put the torch on his phone as the darkness started seeping into the sky, which was only made worse by the trees blocking the light. The bus stop wasn’t a particularly long walk to Derek’s but the cold air and increasingly harsh wind was making it feel longer. After a good few minutes of trekking through the preserve he could see the lights of the house protruding through the trees.
He noticed a silhouette walking towards him from the direction of the house and he immediately recognized it as Derek’s. Stiles waved at him from the distance and Derek picked up his pace towards Stiles. When they got close enough for Stiles to hear him, Derek asked:
“Why aren’t you using your Jeep?”
Stiles concentrated on keeping his heart steady as he lied through his teeth. Always a difficult task. Especially around a born werewolf.
“It’s broken as per usual”
“Typical.” Derek laughed, “You could’ve asked me for a ride. You know I wouldn’t have minded.”
“I know…just felt like a little walk.”
Derek hummed slightly as he closed the final gap between the two. Stiles internally sighed as Derek bought into the lie. He hated lying. So much. But he didn’t have any other choice. What would he say if he was to tell the truth anyways:
‘Oh yeah sorry Derek my dad doesn’t let me leave the house other than for school without his permission and if I do leave I’m lucky to see the next day.’
Yeah that wouldn’t work. So he had to lie. He couldn’t let people find out because he didn’t know what he would do without his dad. Despite what the man does to him, he doesn’t want to lose him. It would be incredibly bittersweet if people were to find out.
As soon as they touched each other Stiles felt the sensation. Only for a fleeting moment as almost immediately Derek sprung back, a confused look settled on his face. Stiles saw the black veins fading from Derek’s arms and tried his hardest not to look guilty or ashamed or any other emotion that might have his boyfriend suspicious.
“Are you hurt?” Derek asked.
His face had flooded with concern and calculation like he was really focusing on Stiles now. Stiles knew he was screwed. There was no getting past Derek when he was concerned. The man wouldn’t let Stiles get away with this one. Thankfully Stiles had a pretty quick thinking brain. He knew what he needed to do to make sure Derek didn’t detect anything in his heart. He probably already heard the acceleration of his heart, there was no way he could cover that up but he could cover up the lie.
“I fell down the stairs, hurt like a bitch. You would’ve thought that I should’ve learnt where the first step is but nope I missed it completely and fell like a fucking snowball AND I even-”
“Okay babe I get it. Do you want me to take the pain?”
Stiles tried not to breathe an audible sigh of relief when Derek bought into his lie. Turns out rambling makes it hard for werewolves to detect lies. He made a mental note of that. He declined the offer of pain relief and together they walked into the house which after having dated for nearly 11 months now, Stiles had become very acquainted with.
A chorus of “Hey Stiles” rang through the room as Stiles stepped inside. He said hello whilst he walked himself to the kitchen to grab a soda. He wasn’t allowed them at home, his dad had banned Stiles from eating and drinking most of the nice things without explicit permission. So made the most of drinking them at Derek’s house whenever they had pack meetings.
“What ya playing?” Stiles asked, taking the free seat next to Derek in the circle that had been formed.
“Truth or dare.” Lydia said.
“Oh hell yeah!” Stiles exclaimed.
As self-proclaimed ‘King of Dares’ Stiles always chose dare and never EVER backed down from one. It was probably his favorite game solely for the reason that he got to do stupid, impulsive shit without being judged for it.
“Whose go is it?” Stiles asked
“Isaac’s.” Jackson said nudging Isaac’s shoulder playfully. “You ask him Stiles.”
“Okay, Isaac, truth or dare?” Stiles asked, wiggling his eyebrows at the boy.
“Truth”
“Okay...let’s see...if you had to bang anyone in the room right now who would it be?”
“Easy. Derek just to spite you.”
Stiles feigned shock whilst everyone laughed. He and Isaac did actually like each other. Their friendship just consisted more of insults than anything else. Neither of them took anything the other said to heart though. It really was just playful jokes.
This went on for a while. Stiles doing a variety of questionable things due to his dares but at least if people did question it he could blame it on the game. He was having a great time. That was until Scott chose a dare.
“Scott, I dare you to show us your six pack along with all the boys and we have to decide who has the best.”
Stiles’ mind goes into complete panic mode. They couldn’t see him shirtless. They couldn’t. They’d find out and then his dad would be in trouble and everything would go to shit. He had to concentrate on not having a panic attack right there and then. The boys all stand up, all looking pretty eager to show off their toned stomachs. He shrunk into himself, hoping they’d forget about him.
“C’mon you too Stiles!” Erica encouraged.
And suddenly Stiles felt like he was going to be sick. His hands started getting clammy as he replied.
“Er no thanks.”
“Why not?” Scott asked.
“WHY NOT? Because you’re all freaking werewolves that’s why!”
Stiles knew immediately that he was too defensive. That they would be suspicious now. But he didn’t know what else he could’ve said or done.
“Yeah but that doesn’t matter we’re not gonna judge you!” Erica said.
“Well you are because you’re judging to see who has the best six pack.”
“But you have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Scott said, sounding increasingly confused.
“Look I just don’t want to be compared to you guys. End of.”
He knew that he didn’t pull that off. The confused and suspicious glances gave it away. Stiles knew his heart rate was going twice as fast as normal but he couldn’t slow it down. He felt like he was going to have a panic attack right there and then. But he swallowed it down as best as he could and concentrated on the game, on having fun with his friends.
Jackson ended up being chosen for the best six pack based on a multitude of factors. Stiles had calmed down significantly and felt himself enjoying the game again. A few more rounds went by until it was his turn again. Jackson was choosing his (inevitable) dare and although they never used to be friends, they were now, so Stiles trusted him to not dare him to do something insanely stupid (which he would have done it the past). Stiles chose dare and almost without hesitation Jackson gave him his...as if he had been planning it.
“I dare you to take your shirt off.”
Stiles swore his heart stopped. Maybe he was being dramatic. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe this was a normal response. Stiles sat frozen for a few seconds not quite sure what to do. His body in full blown panic mode.
“What?” He barely whispered.
“Take your shirt off, you said you didn’t want to be compared to us, so now you’re not.” Jackson replied.
Stiles didn’t need that clarifying. He knew why they wanted to see. They knew he was hiding something under his shirt but they didn’t know what. And being the nosy assholes they were sometimes they had to know. He debated internally how to approach the situation. He could get angry and defensive. They’d leave it alone for now but they would definitely come back to it. He could play dumb. But the pack knew Stiles, he was anything but. Or he could straight up lie and hope to get past the werewolf super senses.
Not quite sure which approach he was taking, Stiles replied.
“I...I can’t.”
Stiles couldn’t stop his voice from wobbling. Because despite his steady hands and current cold exterior, he was panicking. His jumbled thoughts not quite being able to piece together a coherent enough response were enough to go by. The consequences of people finding out cycling through his head without any signs of stopping.
“Why not?” Someone else's voice this time but he couldn’t pinpoint whose.
“I just...I can’t.”
“Because you’re hiding something?” Jackson again.
“What would I be hiding?” Stiles said quietly.
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
Jackson was persistent Stiles would give him that. But he couldn’t really appreciate the clear concern exuding from his words. He felt like he was going to burst at the seams. He was vaguely aware of something someone said. Probably a question for him but his hands were clamming up and his chest was restricting. His vision blurred as he stood up on wobbly legs sure if that was because he was crying or because he was going to pass out.
“Where are you going?” He heard Derek ask, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.
It was then that he realized he had Derek’s hand in his. He didn’t remember doing that but from the cramp in his hand he could tell he’d been squeezing it tight.
“I need some air.”
He walked out the front door of the house and was blasted with the cold air. He gasped for breath as soon as he was out. He forgot about the super hearing of his friends and that they were definitely still able to hear his complete meltdown. Right then, he didn’t care; he just needed to breathe. His lungs were heaving and his hands shook violently against his tucked up knees. He’d sank down onto the top step of the porch, it was uncomfortable but he didn’t really notice.
He heard the door open and a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Derek’s warmth was immediately recognizable, even through the panicked haze. He heard Derek say something about the game. And Stiles shook his head, he couldn’t do the game. Not yet. His trembling hand was picked up by Derek’s and Derek started doing their breathing exercise. They’d been through enough of these together that they had their joint techniques to help them get through it.
Derek guided him through breathing, closing Stiles’ fist on the breaths in and opening it on the way out. Stiles had found it helpful when his panic caused him to not be able to hear very well. This way Stiles knew when to breathe in and out without being able to hear. They had tried the method of putting Stiles’ hand on Derek’s chest but Stiles hadn’t found the movement to be enough.
Stiles started to calm down soon enough. He had completely lost track of time, which was normal, but they never usually lasted long, even if they felt like they did. As he came back to reality he noticed he wasn’t in pain, Derek must’ve taken his pain in the process of calming him down.
When Stiles felt himself return to normal he slumped against Derek, exhausted.
“That was a bad one.” Derek said slinging his arm around Stiles’ shoulder and pulling him close.
Stiles felt Derek kiss the top of his head. And suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that the rest of the pack had probably heard the whole thing. His residual panic immediately turned into embarrassment.
“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” Derek asked.
Derek had started running his fingers gently through Stiles’ hair. And Stiles hummed absentmindedly at the sensation. He knew he had to tell him something. There was no way he was getting away without saying something. Not after that monster of a panic attack. He formulated a quick plan in his head thinking about how to use the rambling technique he had discovered earlier to his advantage.
“Not really but I don’t think you’ll let me go until I do.”
Derek huffed a laugh and squeezed Stiles closer. Stiles felt safe here. Something he rarely felt. Between his home life and supernatural life it wasn’t a particularly common occurrence. He sighed before starting his lie.
“There’s some boys at school who kind mess me around a bit and it’s so stupid because I should be able to fight them off after all my combat training but I can’t, they’re really strong and tall and I think they’re seniors but they kind of like banged me up a bit yesterday and I’ve got bruises on my stomach and I didn’t want you guys to find out because I know what you’re like. You would teach them a lesson or something along the lines of that and I don’t want them to get suspended or anything because they have lives and stuff yanno? Like what if they wouldn’t be able to get into college or anything because I’d got them into trouble? Anyways that’s it.”
Stiles had felt Derek stiffen next to him. Anger evident of his face when Stiles peered up to it. Stiles hoped to all the Gods that they believed him. He didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t.
“What are their names?”
“I’m not telling you that. You’ll go beat them up.”
“And for good reason.”
They’re silent for a minute or two. Stiles not sure what to say and Derek assumingly thinking of all the ways he could kill these imaginary boys. Stiles' leg started bouncing up and down. His adderall was probably wearing off by now.
“I really think you should report them but...if you’re adamant about not doing that then I guess we’ll have to find a way to deal with this.”
“Okay...thank you.”
Derek squeezed him again and Stiles looked up at him. His angry face immediately went soft when he looked at Stiles and it made Stiles melt a little inside. They kissed softly and Stiles smiled into it. He couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky. They stood up to go inside and were greeted by the pack all playing Guitar Hero. Stiles nearly squealed. He LOVED Guitar Hero. The pack acted as if they hadn’t heard anything from outside but Stiles saw the not-so-secret glances they gave to each other when they thought Stiles wasn’t looking.
They played games for a while longer until they decided it was time to leave. He tried to stop the anxious thoughts creeping in as he thought about what if his Dad had found out he wasn’t at home. But he hadn’t had any texts or calls so he assumed that he had passed out on the couch and forgotten he had a son. Not that Stiles was treated like his son.
Everyone exchanged hugs as they said bye to each other. They all said something along the lines of ‘Take care of yourself.’ to Stiles. Indicating to him that they had indeed been listening in on the conversation between him and Derek. Scott gave him a bone crushing hug which would’ve hurt a lot if Derek hadn’t taken his pain earlier. Soon enough it was just him and Derek left. Stiles was about to say his farewells to his boyfriend but Derek got there first.
“I’m giving you a ride.”
There was no arguing with that. Stiles just shrugged nonchalantly and went along with it. It was the least he could do. They got into Derek’s sleek Camaro and drove off.
The drive to Stiles’ was pretty much silent apart from the quiet hum from the radio. Derek had his hand on Stiles knee rubbing soothing circles into his leg. Stiles stared out the window for most of the drive, occasionally looking over at Derek who seemed to be deep in thought. When they got a block away Stiles realised that there was a possibility his dad would hear Derek’s car. And he also didn’t want Derek seeing him climbing through his window instead of using the front door. That would definitely ring some alarm bells.
“Do you mind dropping me off around here? Your car is kinda loud and I don’t want it waking Dad up, he’s a light sleeper.”
“You’ll be okay?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
Derek pulled over slowly. Trying to be as close to the house as possible without actually being outside it. Stiles leant in for a kiss when they had stopped. Derek met him in the middle. When Derek pulled away he brushed his thumb over Stiles’ cheek lovingly. He was smiling softly.
“Call me if you’re not.”
Stiles nodded, just enough.
“I love you.” Stiles said.
“I love you.” Derek replied as he pecked Stiles lips again.
“I should go, drive carefully please.”
“No promises.” Derek smirked.
Stiles gave him one more kiss before getting out of the car. He was dreading going home. He felt like something was wrong. He waved at Derek as he was walking away. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Derek’s car drive off past him. Not because he was happy that he’d gone, but because he was happy that he was no longer getting the concerned looks. He knew he meant well but he felt like his secrets were being read directly from his brain.
When Stiles turned the corner to his house he saw that the lights were off so he felt hopeful that his dad was asleep. He climbed up to his window, his hope slowly etching away. He couldn’t hear snoring. Not a good sign. It wasn’t until he climbed through his window that he knew he was doomed. His door was open. He hadn’t done that. Meaning his dad had gone into his room and seen that he wasn’t there. This was bad. Stiles was completely and utterly screwed.
He tried to maneuver around his room quietly so that his dad didn’t hear him and nothing would happen until the morning. He was just delaying the inevitable really. He was just about to get into bed when he heard footsteps come up the stairs. He stood frozen, unable to move. Fear had taken over.
He couldn’t help but feel stupid. He shouldn’t feel intimidated. He should be able to defend himself. But as soon as his dad was even mentioned, fear made his whole body tense up and freeze. He felt helpless around him.
His dad appeared in the doorway belt in one hand glass of whiskey in the other. They looked at each other for a few moments before Noah brought the glass up above his head and smashed it to the floor, glass flying everywhere. Stiles felt some embed himself into his bare arm.
“Clean that up.”
Stiles hesitated for just a moment.
“Now!”
Well shit.