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STILES: Fuck you!
Derek rolled his eyes, more out of disappointment than annoyance, and slipped his cellphone back into his back pocket. He sighed, then took a sip of his coffee, peering out the windshield, watching for a sign of the rouge hunters they were waiting for to make an appearance.
Boyd sat up straighter in the passenger seat of Derek’s car. He wasn’t a fan of coffee, but energy drinks rather. He was on his third can of Red Bull.
Boyd was not only a quiet, shy guy, but a pretty stationary one as well. He rarely moved when concentrating. He was always at attention and focused. Yet, for the last hour he’s been fidgeting. And cleared his throat and coughed more than anyone ever needs to.
It's not the energy drinks.
Boyd wanted to talk.
“So… You…and Stilinski…” Boyd started, in his usual tone, eyes still on the decrepit, old shoe factory.
Derek sighed again. “…Yeah.”
“When’d that start?”
“Over the summer.”
Boyd nodded, the timeline making sense, seeing as how everyone but the two of them had all but disappeared from Beacon Hills during the break, leaving the Alpha and human to carry on their clandestine relationship without anyone— even pack— knowing.
Derek rubbed his thumb along the steering wheel. The smooth, molded rubber suddenly became fascinating to him as he tried to not look so maudlin.
“You guys fighting?”
Derek sat up straighter and focused his attention back on the shoe factory up the street. “No. He broke up with me.” He doesn’t look directly at him, but he can see Boyd’s face twitch, his nose scrunch up for a second at the information just given to him. It was somewhere between confusion and disbelief.
“Why?”
Derek shook his head a bit. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Do you want it to? Should it?”
“Mattered to Stiles… Everything matters to Stiles,” he said.
They spent the last 2 years doing nothing but snarking and sniping at one another in between saving each other’s lives.
Stiles was always the first one in their pack to pipe up and tell him he was wrong, or his plan was dumb and could get the lot of them hurt, or killed. Stiles stood up to him, challenged him, made him think harder. Smarter.
Boyd remembered once, about 6 months back, that Derek came up with what he thought was a solid plan of attack against a kelpie that somehow ended up at the pond in the middle of the preserve. Boyd was ready for Stiles and Derek’s usual back and forth that more often than not grew into an all-out argument, but instead, Stiles said he liked it, and told Derek it was “an awesome idea.”
Boyd recalled the smile his Alpha was trying hard to fight from appearing on his face. He knew Derek felt ridiculous afterward. He was the Alpha, but he was trying not to grin like a schoolgirl at the human in his pack giving him the most basic of praise. He'd hate to see what Derek would do if Stiles put an incredible effort into saying something nice to him.
He figured that’s when it all must have started for them. The courting at least; fights turning into banter turning into flirting.
After that, he started noticing how needy Derek became with wanting to impress Stiles, whether with a plan of attack on a threat, to simply suggesting a good movie, or card game for "Friday Pack Night."
Boyd assumed it was also the reason Derek had gotten so good at chess. Stiles was great at it, so Derek wanted to be a worthy enough opponent for Stiles to play against.
They played a lot. Often closing themselves off from the rest of the group during "pack bonding time" to go play in the kitchen while the others watched a movie or played Pictionary or just gossiped. Derek had even beaten Stiles a handful of times, earning a bright smile from the boy and good-humored threat for next time they played.
Boyd understood, could see how, Derek could fall for Stiles. Stiles pushed him to be more. Do more. All by being himself. Not once did he actually tell Derek to think more intelligently, or open himself up just a tiny bit more to his betas. It was inadvertently Stiles’ appreciation that drove Derek to do those things, and was making him a better Alpha by repairing all the broken bridges he tore down after the whole incident with Gerard.
And for that, Boyd appreciated Stiles, too. He was slowly making Derek better, without realizing it.
So Boyd felt it necessary to intervene. He had to help them fix what was now broken between them.
“He feels a lot,” Boyd said. “It’s why he’s strong, because he cares.”
“…I know,” Derek responded, thumb still brushing along the steering wheel.
He knows Derek doesn’t need to be told that, but maybe just reminded. Stiles fights with everything in him. It’s why he’s so aggravating. He pushes and pulls for those he loves, and the safety and happiness he wants for them. Stiles always made jokes about being selfish and narcissistic, but anyone with eyes and a brain knew Stiles was truly selfless, and insecure.
“Do you love him?”
“…Yes.”
“Then why’d you let him break up with you?”
“He just…did.”
“Is that what you wanted?”
“Why is it always abandoned buildings with these assholes,” Derek said, changing the subject.
Boyd shrugged. “I don’t pretend to know the mind of a hunter.”
“Why not? It’s not like you’d have much to sift through.”
Boyd snorted. Derek managed a smile.
They fell into silence again, eyes on the crumbling brick and broken windows…
Boyd’s cellphone vibrated. Text message. “Erica,” the beta said. “She and Scott make out about five or six hunters. On the top floor.”
“Weapons?”
“All they could see were crossbows.”
“I’m sure they got more than that when they broke into Argent’s house.”
“They definitely have wolfsbane.”
“No hunter leaves home without it.”
Boyd snorted again. “Yeah. You and Stilinski are definitely a thing.”
“…Is that…odd? To you? Strange,” Derek asked, trying to not sound so self-doubting.
“No,” Boyd said easily.
“Why,” Derek asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
Boyd shrugs. “You and Stiles…make sense. You’re kind of perfect for each other,” he said in a coolly. “I mean, being each other’s hero all the time, saving one another, and all that fighting and back-and-forth… I could smell you both when you were rowed up like that.”
Derek tries hard not to turn beet red at being so exposed of his feelings for Stiles.
“You guys understand each other better than anyone else can, too. McCall thinks he knows Stiles better than anyone, but he doesn’t. You do…and maybe Lydia.”
“…He said I buried myself under his skin.”
“When?”
“When he said he 'tired of playing games'. Then kissed me.”
“Stilinski is always 20 steps ahead of everyone else. It’s why we’re sitting here right now... He’d be a good emissary,” Boyd threw out there. He knows Derek’s thought about, probably fantasized about it; about Stiles doing his whole research thing, buried in books, coming up with strategies to fight evil forces, studying pack politics and dynamics. He knows Derek has, because he has. He’s thought of Stiles as their emissary for a couple years now, and is treated as such by him, and everyone else. If a question or concern is to be raised everyone always finds either Derek or Stiles to handle it. They’ve always worked in tandem like that. They've been a team before they even knew they were one.
“We’re not together anymore, Boyd,” Derek responded low with blank, dead eyes.
“Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be a good emissary.”
Derek gave a tight-lipped, curt nod. He was beyond wanting to talk further about Stiles. And Boyd knew when to leave well-enough alone.
Derek's phone vibrated.
ERICA: How do u want 2 play this?
DEREK: You and Scott go in through the front. Boyd and I will take the back. Issac and Jackson can stay put outside the factory; Jackson on the east side, Isaac on the west; in case any of them get away. We take their weapons, cuff them with the zip ties, and take them to Argent. Stiles, Lydia, and Allison are in the van up the block.
ERICA: Got it.
ERICA: Did u use a semicolon in a txt, boss-wolf?!
Derek stuffed his cellphone back into his pocket and relayed the plan to Boyd.
“Sounds good,” Boyd told him.
“Alright.”
They break out of Derek’s camaro.
»»»
Derek and Chris Argent shook hands on the porch. Boyd waited on the sidewalk with everyone else.
Except Stiles.
He was a good 10-15 feet away from them, practically pulsating with emotions. Most of it worry. His hands were balled into tight fists. He bit his bottom lip raw and was sniffling, fighting back tears that stung his eyes.
The plan worked for all of 30 seconds, until the hunters set off flash bombs left and right, at which point Derek landed on one to protect Scott, then took a few deep cuts across his chest and stomach with a trench knife dusted with wolfsbane. Erica found her bearings and attacked the hunter slicing her Alpha to pieces.
It was chaos, but the hunters were eventually defeated; left alive and cuffed in the back of the rental van, swearing under their breath and bleeding.
Derek, however, was covered in blood and spewing black bile from his mouth. Stiles and Lydia rushed in then, and Stiles extracted the wolfsbane from Derek’s body by means of the wolfsbane from the same knife used to gut him.
They had to wait a good while at the shoe factory for him to heal completely, and when he did, Stiles surged forward and decked him in the face before running out of there and waiting in the van. Boyd knew it hurt the human more than Derek, but that wasn’t the point of the punch. It wasn’t to hurt; it was to scream what Stiles felt he couldn’t at the time.
Derek slowly lurched down the porch steps. His shirt was in tatters and caked in blood.
“Can we move it along here?! Like aren’t we done?! I don’t want to spend my life out waiting on, werewolf-Jesus over here,” Stiles snapped, pointing to Derek.
Before anyone could say anything, Stiles walked off toward his jeep at the end of the street.
Scott shrugged when odd looks and questioning glares shot in his direction, then jogged down the pavement to catch up with Stiles.
“I’ll take Derek home,” Boyd volunteered.
Derek nodded, but his eyes stared ahead at the human boy practically sprinting to his car.
»»»
Derek was scowling at the dashboard. Jaw set tight, eyes unmoving, face hard, body still. He’s thinking. Boyd had learned the difference from his genuine, angry glower, and his “thinking” glower.
Boyd was grateful that Derek was distracted. It made it simpler for when he put the car in park and the Alpha looked up to notice they weren’t at the loft.
“Why are we at Stiles’ house?”
“He’s worried about you. He was scared tonight.”
“I still shouldn’t be here right now. Scott’s in there with him.”
“Fuck Scott,” Boyd said, earning a slightly surprised look from Derek. “He doesn’t want Scott right now. He wants you.”
Derek looked out the windshield, up at the open window and bright light shining from Stiles’ room. The sheriff’s police cruiser wasn’t there. Boyd remembered Stiles saying something earlier about his dad working a double-shift tonight.
Derek looked nervous. Of all the fights and creatures of the night they’ve had to go up against, he’s never really seen Derek look so hesitant before. But somehow, talking things out with his human, teenage boyfriend…
“He thinks I’m ashamed of us. Of him. That’s why he broke up with me.”
“Why would he think that?”
“He wanted everyone to know about us. I didn’t. Not yet. I just wanted to keep him to myself for a little while longer. Not a secret, just…”
Boyd nodded. He knew what Derek meant. Derek allowed himself very little happiness most of the time, but he decided to with Stiles. Wanting to hold onto the privacy of it, which made it special, and all his, is something Boyd could understand.
He could also understand with Stiles being Stiles, his desire in wanting to not only tell their pack, but the whole world that Derek Hale was in love with him, and vice versa. That they belonged together.
“Why didn’t you just tell Stiles that?”
“I tried, but when he said it was over… Stiles is good at saying what he feels.” The "and I’m not," was implied.
Boyd shrugged. “You can try again. Like now.”
"Are you two just going to post in my driveway all night, or do you want something," they heard Stiles say. Scott must have told Stiles they were parked out front.
Boyd nodded toward the house. “I’ll bring your car back to the loft.”
Derek hesitated a minute...then nodded an “okay,” getting out of the car.
Scott jumped down from the window. Boyd heard him thank Derek for diving on the flash bomb earlier for him.
“Its okay, Scott,” Derek said, before scaling the side of the house and climbing into Stiles’ window.
Scott waved to Boyd, then hopped in the passenger seat. “Can you take me home?”
Boyd nodded. He put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway, turning into the street. The reached the stop sign at the end of the street when Scott turned to him, “Should we have waited a minute? You know, to make sure they don’t kill each other?”
“They’re not going to kill each other, McCall.”
“How do you know?”
Boyd shrugged. Not his place to tell.
“There’s something up with them. Like Stiles punching Derek for saving me, and that they kind of smell, like each other.”
Boyd shrugged again. Still not his place.
“I mean, I know they did a lot of research together over the summer and all, and maybe they’re sort of friends now, but I don’t know. It’s weird between them.”
Boyd shrugged for a third time, eyes focused on the dark road ahead.
“Yeah. You’re right. It’s probably nothing.”
Boyd made a left and pulled up to Scott’s house. His mom stepped out onto the porch, looking worried. He forgot she knows about everything.
“Thanks, Boyd.” Scott got out of the camaro and ran toward the house. His mom hugged him tight in her arms.
Scott waved with a stupid grin on his face at Boyd as he and his mom went into the house.
McCall is an idiot.
»»»
They’re hovered over a map Stiles had spread over Derek’s dining table.
“I think the coven is held up here, right by the Beacon Hills border into the town of Blue Lake,” Stiles said, marking it with a red ‘X’ on the map.
“There’s no pack in Blue Lake, but there is an Indian Reservation. The tribe there has ties to the supernatural, but they take a really neutral stance when it comes to it being forced on them. I should go talk to the chief. He knew my mother. He might help, and grant us permission to get rid of the witches since they’re at the border of Blue Lake and Beacon Hills,” Derek said.
“There’s only one way in and one way out of Blue Lake, and the bridge is right where I think the witches are. They even sniff a supernatural creature around them and they’ll attack you,” Stiles countered.
“They’re also attacking humans, Stiles. That’s why we’re trying to drive them out…or kill them if we have to.”
“I understand that, but wouldn’t it best if say me, and Lydia, go handle talks with the tribe to get permission on your behalf? We got the stuff from Deaton, and it’ll help us against those bitches if they try and come after us. Come on, sourwolf. It’s not like you’re a great conversationalist anyway. I’m sure that transpires into negotiation, too.”
Boyd didn’t miss the teasing wink Stiles gave the Alpha.
Derek glowered. “Thinking” glowered though…
“Fine, but you take Allison with you instead.”
“Excuse me. Not that I wanted to go to Blue Lake with Stiles to begin with, but why have I been replaced by Allison?”
“Because though mortal, Lydia, you’re still a banshee, which is a supernatural creature of the witch variety--”
“Therefore, a clear reason I should go instead. They’re not going to hurt a ‘cousin-witch’.”
“No. Allison is human, but a hunter. She’s better equipped to protect herself and my boyfriend if something happens.”
Lydia’s mouth hung open. As did everyone else’s with Derek’s open admission. Only Boyd and Stiles were smiling.
Derek leaned into Stiles and kissed him softly on his mouth. “Please be careful.”
“I have my phone,” Stiles said. He kissed Derek once more then grabbed his backpack off the floor. “Ready to go, Ally,” he asked, smirking at the still stunted looks on everyone’s face.
Allison snapped to enough to nod dumbly at Stiles before grabbing her stuff.
“Dude… You and Derek,” Scott asked, looking betrayed.
“Me and Derek,” Stiles answered proudly. He turned around and walked out the door. Allison followed.
“How did I miss that? How did I let that one slide past me?” Lydia spun on her heel toward Derek. “Someone owes me details.”
Derek scoffed. She wasn’t going to get anything out of him. He turned to Boyd. “Patrol?”
Boyd nodded and grabbed his jacket.
“So we’re not getting juicy details about the Alpha banging Stiles,” Erica pouted.
“You want details of that,” Jackson piped up, with a disgusted look on his face.
“Yes,” Lydia and Erica shouted, while Scott and Isaac traded revolting frowns.
Boyd gets completely why Derek wanted things just between him and Stiles. The rest of the pack were nightmares when it came to gossip.
The five of them stood debating the merits of Derek and Stiles’ relationship; too nosy and judgmental to have noticed Boyd and Derek had already left and were now in the elevator.
“So… You and Stilinski,” Boyd said, echoing their first conversation.
There was a sweet, faint smile on Derek’s face. “Yeah. Me and Stilinski.”
The corner of Boyd’s mouth turned up. “Good. You’re kind of perfect for each other.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Derek’s phone vibrated.
STILES: Allison is being the worst with all her questions!
STILES: And now Erica and Lydia are trying to 3-way call me! Ugh!
STILES: Is it too late for us to be a secret again?
DEREK: Afraid so.
STILES: Good. I like that everyone knows I love my sourwolf :P
Boyd saw Derek’s smile widen, staring down at his phone. Boyd liked it. It was a new expression he’d never seen before, and wasn’t a glower.
It was bliss.
And Boyd thought it was Derek’s best look yet.