Work Text:
Being a demon wasn’t so bad. All Stiles had to do was meet his monthly soul quota and other than that, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted. Stiles was very good at his job, he was the only demon in history to be named Soul Collector of the Year ninety-nine times. The year Greenburg won is still a sore spot for Stiles, it was 1967 the Summer of Love was in full swing and Stiles got a little… distracted. There were more than enough people out there willing to give up their souls for something and Stiles was more than happy to oblige them.
Stiles’ journey to becoming a demon was something of a cliché. He didn’t sell his soul to save some poor person’s life; he didn’t even sell it for riches. No, Stiles sold his soul for love. Her name was Lydia Martin, a 5 foot 2 strawberry blonde goddess. He didn’t even have the sense to negotiate himself a good deal. Blinded by infatuation, Stiles thought three years was an enough time so fifteen and stupid he agreed. In return for his soul, Lydia would fall in love with him.
But things didn’t exactly go to plan. Stiles quickly figured out that Lydia wasn’t really the perfect girl he thought and there was also that whole life-changing moment when he turned sixteen, and realised that boys were actually more of his thing. It turns out that demons don’t really care if things don’t work out so, when Stiles was eighteen, the demon came to collect. Faced with the prospect of burning in hell for all eternity, Stiles proposed an alternative – make him a demon instead, with his smart mouth and quick mind he’d definitely be an asset to the team. So here he was, a hundred years later and collecting souls for a living.
There was one big problem with the job; it got a little repetitive. You meet some poor shmuck down on their luck and desperate and it’s pretty easy to entice them with offers of a better life. You give them five or ten years, collect on the debit, and then their soul is yours forever. And so on and so on. Honestly, Stiles was bored; a hundred years of collecting souls is enough to drive even the finest demon a little crazy.
Away from collecting souls, Stiles had one pleasure in life and that was reading. Wolf Moon, a series of novels written by the mysterious author D. H. Sales were Stiles’ particular favourite. The teenage misadventures of the titular character Scott, a werewolf, and his best friend Dylan were Stiles’ only escapism from his tedious life as a demon. It had been two years since the release of the third instalment and Stiles was getting a little frustrated.
The book had ended on a cliff-hanger; Scott had been kidnapped by the villainous Kate Argent and taken to the Mexican desert while the pack headed off to rescue him. Stiles needed to know what happened. Was Scott alive? Would Dylan and the enigmatic brooding former Alpha finally get together? Just what was Deputy Parrish? There were too many questions that needed answering. So, when Stiles read that the author had gone on indefinite hiatus and there would be no more books for the foreseeable future, Stiles’ was annoyed to say the least.
Finding out who D. H. Sales was, was actually quite easy. Stiles’ demon resources discovered that this guy’s name was really Derek Hale; he was thirty-two years old and lived in a small Californian town called Beacon Hills. Stiles decided to pay Mr Hale a visit.
–
There is a chance Stiles went slightly overboard on his entrance, the dramatic burst of smoke probably wasn’t necessary. The guy looked; well, completely terrified but considering Stiles had just appeared out of nowhere in the middle of his living room, that reaction was perfectly appropriate to the situation.
Stiles waves. “Um, hi.”
The guy just stares at him.
“You’re Derek right? Derek Hale?”
The guy, Derek, just keeps on staring.
“My name’s Stiles and I…”
“How did you get into my house?!”
“Well I erm, I…”
Derek leaps up from his desk knocking over his chair in his haste. He looks angry and despite being a demon, Stiles is a little scared. It might be Derek’s eyebrows, they’re very impressive eyebrows, but right now they’re doing this thing that makes it look like he’s about to murder Stiles.
“Get the hell out of my house.”
“Wait, I just… I…”
Derek grabs Stiles by the collar before he can finish his sentence. He drags Stiles out into the hall and to the door.
“You come here again and I’ll call the cops. Ok?”
Stiles nods and darts out the door as soon as it’s opened. He really should have thought this through.
–
Not one to give up, Stiles decides to try again. With last night’s fiasco still fresh in his mind, Stiles elects for something a little subtler, like knocking on the door. Stiles seems to remember that was something he used to do when he was a human.
Stiles hesitates slightly as he approaches the door. Not that he would ever admit that, because well demon and he’s not afraid of anything. No siree!
Stiles knocks and a few seconds later the door swings open. There’s a moment of realisation when Derek’s face changes from a polite hello there nice caller at my door to an angry oh it’s you, didn’t I tell you what would happen if you came here again.
“Hi,” Stiles starts.
Derek shuts the door in his face.
Stiles knocks again. There’s a longer wait this time before Derek pulls the door open.
“What are you doing here?” Derek’s eyebrows are doing that murder thing again.
“I came to erm…” Wait, what’s that thing humans do again? “Apologise! Yeah, I’m here to apologise for you know, last night.”
“You’re here to apologise for breaking into my house?” Derek doesn’t look convinced.
“Technically, I didn’t break into your house.”
Derek crosses him arms. “What do you mean technically?”
“Well, I did sort of come into your house without your permission however; I definitely did not break in.”
“Then you got in how? Magic?”
Stiles shrugs. “Something like that.” Derek still doesn’t look convinced. “Look just let me in and I’ll explain. Please?”
–
For some reason Derek does actually let him in, he even offers Stiles a drink which is very considerate of him.
–
“Are you a ghost?”
“Nope.” Stiles prods himself in the chest just to prove that he really is corporeal.
“A witch?”
“No. Those aren’t things Derek,” Stiles answers rolling his eyes.
“Then what are you?”
“A demon.”
Derek blinks. “A demon?”
“Yeah.”
“So ghosts and witches, those aren't things but demons?”
“Yep,” Stiles says popping the p.
“A demon?”
Stiles huffs. “Yes. Maybe watch a few episodes of Supernatural, Derek. Actually no don’t, that show is horribly inaccurate it portrays demons as nothing more than soulless creatures who prey on poor people who… huh, that’s actually is pretty accurate. Never mind.”
“So… demon?”
“Yes!”
Derek shakes he head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Urgh fine, look.” Stiles lets his eyes shift from brown to black. Derek’s mouth goes slack and he stares at Stiles with eyes wide.
“Holy shit you’re a demon!”
“Now he gets it.”
Derek sits down heavily on the couch, staring at the floor. He finally looks up at Stiles and opens his mouth as if to speak but doesn’t. Derek does this a few more times and Stiles thinks he might have broken him.
“Ok, so,” Stiles claps his hands together breaking the silence. “Now we’ve got that out the way, on to the reason why I’m here.”
Derek’s eyes snap up. “You’re here to kill me aren’t you.” There’s a fear in his voice that panics Stiles.
“What? No! Why would you even think that?!”
“Because you’re a demon! That’s what you do!” Derek cries, jumping up from the couch.
“Whoa hold up, we don’t kill people Derek! People give up their souls of their own free will.”
“And then what?”
“And then nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Stiles sighs. “Fine. And then they go to hell for all eternity.”
“Wow. That’s really making me feel better.” Derek deadpans.
“Look, I’m not here to kill you or take your soul ok. I’m actually here because I’m a fan.”
Derek looks confused. “A fan?”
“Yes. A fan of your books,” Stiles grins.
Derek looks at him disbelievingly. “So wait, let me get this straight. You’re a demon and you’re not here to kill me.”
Stiles nods.
“So, you decided to appear out of nowhere in my living room in the middle of the night, scaring me half to death then came back the next evening all to tell me that you’re a fan of my writing. At what point did you think any of that was a good idea?” The annoyance in Derek’s voice is obvious.
Stiles doesn’t have an answer for that. Now that Derek’s said it out loud, Stiles’ can understand how insane it all sounds. His plan seemed really good in his head.
“Look, I am sorry ok. I didn’t mean to scare you and yes, I really should have knocked instead of you know, poof! But I just wanted to talk to you. Your books, they’re amazing dude and I’ve been waiting on the next one for like forever and then I read that you’re not writing anymore and I just, I just wanted to see if I could change your mind. That’s all.”
Derek just stares. Stiles mentally prepares himself to make a quick getaway since there is a slight chance that Derek is contemplating the best way to kill him. Then Derek does something unexpected. He laughs. A head thrown back, eyes crinkling laugh.
“So wait,” Derek, still laughing wipes a tear from his eye. “You’re telling me you came all the way from hell to try and persuade me to write another book? Who knew demons were fans of popular literature.”
“Well not all demons. Not any demons really. Just me.”
Derek smiles at Stiles and wow, Stiles might be a soulless demon but he can still appreciate a good looking guy when he sees one.
“Why don’t you sit down. Stay a little, we can talk.”
And Stiles does.
–
After that, they settle into a kind of rhythm. Every few nights, Stiles keeps finding himself knocking on Derek’s door and Derek keeps letting him in. They sort of become friends, well as friendly as a demon and human can become.
–
“What part of indefinite hiatus do you not understand Stiles.”
“Come on man, you cannot do this to me! I need to know what happened.”
“No.”
“Derek please! You don’t understand how completely mind-numbingly boring collecting souls can be. Your books are pretty much the only thing that keeps me sane.”
“Sorry but I’m having a hard time empathising with a demon.”
“Cold man, cold.”
“I’m not writing anymore books Stiles.”
–
“How long have you been doing it?”
“What, collecting souls?” Derek nods. “It’s my 100th anniversary next month.”
“You’re a hundred years old!?”
“Yep. Well, technically I’m 118. What can I say; I look good for my age.” Stiles grins.
–
A few months into, whatever it is they’re doing, they’re both sitting on Derek’s couch like they usually do, when Derek confesses that the reason he’s stopped writing is because he’s suffering from writer’s block.
“It started right after I finished the last book. I haven’t been able to write since.”
Stiles hates hearing him sound so dejected. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, maybe you could…”
“Stiles,” Derek growls. “Don’t say it.”
“Youcouldsellmeyoursoul,” Stiles spits out all at once.
“Stiles!”
“No, look hear me out.” Stiles sits up on his knees, turning to face Derek. “You sell me your soul, I’ll give you a really good deal, and all your writing problem will be gone.”
“Stiles,” Derek starts. “For the last time, I am not selling you my soul just so you can find out what happened to a bunch of fictional characters!”
“Come on, please! You could become a demon and we could work together. How cool would that be, we’d be the best team ever.”
Derek hits Stiles in the face with a cushion.
–
“Scott survives right?”
Derek closes both his eyes in exasperation. “I don’t know Stiles.”
“Dylan and Tyler, they get together right?”
“I don’t know Stiles.”
“But Parrish, he’s like some kind of phoenix right? Or a dragon?”
“Stiles?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know.”
Stiles laughs, it’s something he’s been doing a lot recently. And, when Derek starts laughing too, there’s that weird tingling feeling Stiles keeps getting in his belly when he’s with Derek.
–
There’s only once explanation for it, Stiles has a crush on Derek Hale. He wasn’t actually aware that he had the ability to ‘crush’ on someone since that requires feeling and hello soulless demon over here! But Stiles remembers the feeling. It’s the same feeling he had the first time he ever laid eyes on Lydia Martin.
It all goes downhill from there really. Stiles is making a deal with this guy and it should be simple, it’s something he’s done thousands of times. The guy wants to be rich, that’s a standard 10-year contract but Stiles gives him 20 years instead. And it gets worse when Stiles has to go collect on a debt. Stiles expects a certain amount of begging and pleading and it’s never got to him before but this time, the guy is crying and Stiles finds himself thinking about this guy’s family and how sad they’re going to be and how much they’re going to miss him. If Stiles wasn’t duty-bound to take his soul, he’d have probably let the guy go.
It’s official, Stiles has gone soft. It’s all Derek’s fault with his stupidly pretty face and ridiculous smile and his thick, soft looking hair that Stiles just itches to run his fingers through. Not to mention how funny and kind and goddam perfect he is. Urgh, Stiles hates him.
Apparently Stiles is unable to do his job properly anymore. His soul numbers are falling and when not long ago he was the best in the business, he’s numbers are now lower the Greenburg’s. Obviously this gets noticed and it’s not long before Stiles is called to his boss’s office.
–
Finstock is Stiles’ boss. His insistence on being called Coach (apparently he’d been a pretty good lacrosse coach back in his human days), and his rousing rendition of the President’s speech from Independence Day which he gave at every monthly departmental meeting, give him a reputation of being a bit of an eccentric.
“Bilinski!”
Stiles winces, they’ve known each other for nearly a hundred years and still he could never get Stiles’ name right. “It’s Stilinski, Coach.”
“Right. What’s this I’ve heard about your numbers slipping?”
“Umm. It’s err, it’s nothing.”
“Nothing? You’re my best collector Stilinski, what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing Coach, really. It’s just…”
“Just?”
“It’s just,” Stiles rubs the back of his neck. “Well there’s, there’s this guy…”
Finstock puts a hand up cutting Stiles off.
“Save it Stilinski. You’re in love aren’t you?”
“Whoa wait, love?! No, no, no I’m not in love. I’m a demon I’m not even capable of that, I just kind of like him, a little bit, that’s all.”
“Of course you’re capable. Do you think you’re the first demon in history to fall in love with a human? We don’t always manage to get rid of all those pesky feelings when you become a demon, sometimes there’s some still left floating around and they make you all emotional and sensitive and, well human.”
Stiles lets the information sink in. He can’t be can he? That’s ridiculous he’s not in love, he isn’t he… holy crap, he is. Stiles is in love with Derek Hale!
“Would he sell his soul?” Finstock asks shattering Stiles’ thoughts. “I could give him the same deal I gave you and make him a demon. Then you two could be demonic lovers forever.”
Stiles pulls a face. “Actually I’ve sort of already asked him that. He’s definitely not down with the whole giving up his soul thing.”
“Look Stilinski, you’re no use to me like this. I can’t have distracted fawning over some meat-sack all the time. You’re going to have to make a choice.”
“What kind of choice?” Stiles asks furrowing his brow.
“What’s more important, your job or him?”
Stiles hesitates. “If I choose what happens?”
“Choose your job then you can never see this guy again. He’s a distraction and I need souls, the department has targets to hit. If you choose him, then we’ll make you human. You can go live one of those nauseating human lives, buy a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence, raise a bunch of snot-nosed kids, grow old together then die.” Finstock answers, screwing up his face as if even the thought of it repulses him.
Stiles stares at Finstock slack-jawed. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? You’d make me human?”
“Yeah.”
“Hold up. Wait a second, I mean, what? Just like that, simple as anything, you’d make me human?”
“Yes. Consider it a sort of thanks for all your hard work.”
“But… but how is that even possible.”
“Because it is. We took your soul, we can give it back. It’s just not something we really advertise because who would want to be human when you could be a demon. Demons are awesome. Humans suck. Everyone knows that Stilinski.”
For the first time in his life, Stiles is lost for words. Could he really become human again? That life Finstock described does sound good. But what if Derek doesn’t want him? It’s a lot to ask of someone, but Stiles owes it to himself to find out.
–
“Hypothetically, if I said that I had the chance to become human again, what would you say?”
Derek sighs. “Stiles…”
Stiles cuts him off. “No, seriously. Let’s just say it was possible, that somehow I could become human and live, you know, a human life here with err… with you. What would you say?”
Derek hesitates staring at Stiles for a moment, eyes studying his face as if searching for an answer.
“I’d say; whatever you choose I’ll support you, no matter what I’ll be there for you, and I’d say…” Derek steps closer, reaching out to put his hand on Stiles’ face, rubbing his thumb across Stiles’ cheek. “I’d say, whatever happens, I’ll always love you. Hypothetically, of course.”
“Hypothetically, yeah,” Stiles breathes.
Stiles feels like he’s just been hit by a bus. His mind is racing and then… that’s Derek’s lips. Derek’s lips are on his and suddenly Stiles can’t think. All he’s aware of is the softness of Derek’s lips and warmness of his mouth. When Derek pulls away there’s a smile on his face which Stiles returns.
“I love you.” Stiles says because really, there’s nothing else to say.
“I love you too, Stiles.”
–
Stiles adjusts pretty quickly to life as human, having to eat and sleep again does take some getting used to though. But with Derek by his side Stiles feels like he could do anything, he’s even gets himself a job at the local library. And, not only does Stiles get his fourth instalment of Wolf Moon, but also a fifth and sixth, Derek even uses some of his ideas in the book.
Stiles gets to be the first person to read the final book in the Wolf Moon series and he can’t help but smile when he reads the dedication.
Stiles,
I shared with you my demons and you shared yours with me.
Who’d have thought they would get along well enough to fall in love.