Work Text:
1.
“Can I ask you something?” Stiles started. Derek glanced over, though his eyes caught on all the skin Stiles purposely had exposed on his collarbone, down his sides, dipped under the blanket. He had decided it was a good idea to test Derek’s self-control by foregoing clothes after his shower, opting instead to land on their unmade bed in nothing but a pair of briefs. Their son laid half on his chest, half on the bed now, miraculously asleep. No doubt lulled into his current state by the scent of his pack together.
“You’ll ask regardless, so sure,” Derek murmured while he tried to remind himself that Stiles had come home from a hard day and only wanted to shower it off and hold their baby boy.
Had to remind himself that it would be rude to take their son away from him right now just because he wanted to replace the space with his own body over Stiles. Even if he looked like that, messy damp hair falling all over his forehead, begging to be pushed back. With his skin still warm and splotchy from the heat of the water. With their son’s slightly opened mouth drooling hilariously on his chest. With Stiles’ distractedly touching their son’s hand on his peck, Stiles’ forearm flexing just so.
Derek swallowed.
“Are you checking me out?” Stiles mused suddenly while lifting his hand to cradle Eli’s head against his chest.
“Was that really the question you wanted to ask?” Derek asked, turning his attention back to the paperback in his hands to distract from the blush on his cheeks.
“No, but I still feel like it’s worth talking about. Are you getting all hot and bothered right now? Seeing me on our bed with our kid?”
“Shut up,” Derek muttered.
“Does it really get you going? Make all your instincts go a little crazy?”
Derek gave him a look, but Stiles only wet his lips in response with a promise for later.
“Didn’t you have a question?”
“Hmm. Yeah. It’s kind of related to the instincts, actually, if you think about it,” Stiles said.
“All thoughts are related if you think about it too much.”
“True,” Stiles nodded, then sobered. Derek put the book down, sensing the shift in his mood. “I was just thinking… you know, we’ve been together a few years…”
Derek froze and narrowed his eyes. “Yes…”
“Two and some change, to be exact. And that’s amazing that we haven’t like, killed each other or anything, and I’m happy, you know...” Derek stayed silent, afraid of a but… “But -”
Derek sighed and looked down, heart lurching in his throat. He knew it had been too good to be true. It was okay… whatever it was, he would… he would get through it. Somehow.
“I just don’t understand why your eyes are blue, I guess.”
What? Derek squinted back up at Stiles. “My eyes are green,” he said.
“No – your – Derek, your werewolf eyes,” Stiles clarified with an eyeroll.
“Wait – you’re asking me about my eyes? That’s what you’re wondering?”
Stiles hesitated. “Yes?” he said, like a question.
“That was a really bad set up,” Derek glared. “Don’t start questions like that ever again.”
“Like what? - oh god. Did you think I was going to break up with you?!” Derek glared again. “Der! Oh my god,” Stiles whisper-shouted as best as he could with a toddler asleep on him.
“You know why my eyes are blue,” Derek said, returning to the point to distract from the embarrassing relief in his chest.
“Well, I mean yes. But shouldn’t they be red by now?”
“What?”
“Your eyes should be red. I mean - you’re the alpha, right? I always knew if Scott was a true alpha then you had to be, right? And now we have a kid and you said we were our own pack so … I just…” Stiles shrugged and waved a hand towards Derek.
“I’m not an alpha,” Derek said, bewildered.
“But-”
“Stiles,” Derek shook his head. “I am not an alpha. I would know. My eyes are not going to change.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Stiles countered. Eli stirred on his chest, fussing a bit at all the commotion around him. Stiles steadied him with a hand on his neck and the boy settled instinctively. Derek watched his little arm grow slack against Stiles’ side.
“It doesn’t have to make sense to you. You’re human,” Derek said, but he was distracted by the sight in front of him.
“Doesn’t a pack need an alpha?” Stiles asked. Yes, Derek thought. His eyes drifted up to Stiles’ face. He shrugged. “That’s not an answer.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Stiles. I’m not an alpha,” Derek insisted.
“But then you’re an omega.”
“No.”
“Yes, that’s how that works,” Stiles insisted, as though he had been the one who grew up with werewolves. Derek looked back at their son.
“I’m not, because we have Eli. He’s not an omega either,” Derek said.
“None of this makes sense. I mean - How can you survive then? You’re not in a pack if you’re not our alpha!”
“We can be a pack without an alpha,” Derek said, but he wasn’t so sure. He just – he was having a moment watching the way Eli reacted to Stiles’ hand on his neck.
“Okay, that only goes against everything you’ve ever told me about packs but sure!”
“I guess you just don’t get it,” Derek muttered, but honestly he wasn’t entirely sure he got it either. Because Stiles had a point.
Shouldn’t he be an omega?
The topic was dropped when it became clear no one would concede, but even after Stiles put Eli to bed and let Derek rub his body all over him to his heart’s content, Derek couldn’t sleep.
Stiles’ head was on his shoulder, the soft rise and fall of his breathing lulling Derek into some sort of trance that had him halfway to sleep, but never quite there. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Stiles had said.
There was something there, he thought. Maybe he had been thinking about pack dynamics wrong when he explained them to Stiles all those years ago. Then again, maybe there were things about packs that Derek didn’t understand, because he’d been too young when his pack died to really learn.
He wondered if Peter would bother being honest with him if he managed to track him down and ask. The mere thought of asking Peter made him shrink back in horror though.
He didn’t need that kind of ammo, to know Derek was raising his son outside of a traditional pack.
Derek never really settled into sleep, so when the sun rose and Stiles got up to shower, Derek felt like a zombie. He got up to get Eli and started the coffee in a haze, focusing in on Stiles’ heartbeat to comfort his weary mind while cutting apple slices for Eli.
Stiles emerged like a vision, and Derek felt his wolf finally relax when his mate wandered over to press against his back, still warm from his shower. Stiles pressed a kiss to the back of Derek’s neck, nipping at the skin afterwards because he always loved how Derek turned to putty at the action, when it clicked.
Derek turned in Stiles’ embrace with wild eyes. “You okay?” Stiles whispered, thumb sneaking under Derek’s shirt to brush against his skin. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”
“Not much,” Derek nodded, but his heart was racing, mind a jumble of thoughts he couldn’t quite parse.
He had never seen it before in a human, didn’t know if it was a thing, but in that moment through all the noise in his mind, as completely wrong and impossible as it was, there was one thought on the tip of his tongue.
Alpha.
2.
Stiles was not speaking to Derek.
It was infuriating. It wasn’t like he knew Stiles had promised his dad that they’d do a big family dinner tonight.
Derek didn’t know he’d be upset about Eli going over to his new friend’s house after school for a playdate! Derek wouldn’t have said it was okay for him to stay for dinner if he knew!
The house was too quiet. Derek sipped his wolfsbane spiked wine with a bitter grimace, seeking out his mate’s heartbeat where it was erratic and bothered in the kitchen. Swallowing his pride, Derek grabbed his glass and went to the source of his frustration.
“Are you going to stay mad at me?”
Silence.
“This is really mature,” Derek noted while leaning against the counter. Stiles was wearing an old hoodie of Derek’s with the sleeves shoved up his forearms. The result was an entirely too-intoxicating experience for Derek’s senses, a confusing mix of scent for him considering the difficult-to-decipher annoyance Stiles clearly felt. Stiles turned to stare blankly at him. “I didn’t know,” Derek said, not for the first time. “I can call -”
“Eli will be upset if you go back on it now. It’s - fine,” Stiles muttered, mashing the potatoes he had in a pot on the stove with a little too much aggression.
Derek watched quietly. There was an itch in the back of his mind, a sort of unsettling that made him nervous. Stiles was upset, and it was his fault. It made him want to run - to shift and dig his claws into the dirt until he found something worthy of bringing back to his mate to shift the tides.
He scratched at the back of his neck and pushed that side of him down. It wouldn’t help him now. Stiles pressed his hands into his face with a heavy sigh and groan, then turned over his shoulder to look at Derek.
“You’re being awfully loud over there,” Stiles said. For a moment, Derek thought he was mocking him. “I never gave you enough credit, you know. You’re insanely good at pretending things aren’t bothering you if you just look. But your emotions are so loud.”
Right. The link.
They had only been married a few months - Derek still wasn’t used to Stiles being able to sense him like that.
He dropped his eyes, feeling inadequate for an inexplainable reason. Stiles was so much more. It wasn’t like that was news - Stiles has always been more than he thought he was, more than anyone ever credited him for. It was okay – Derek liked feeling challenged and pressed, he loved that Stiles always felt like he was just bursting with potential. But in moments like that, when Stiles let it slip just how powerful he was, just how much power he had over Derek without even realizing it, well it quieted Derek.
He didn’t even realize his head was tilted in submission until Stiles neared and pressed his palm over it.
Alpha.
Derek’s eyes slipped closed as he pressed into Stiles’ touch, taking as much of the comfort as he offered as Stiles shifted to let him hug him. “I’m not mad at you, please stop moping,” Stiles murmured.
“Not moping,” Derek grumbled, but he couldn’t stop scenting Stiles in relief.
“I’ve been working so much, Dad’s been working so much, and you just got that job at the shop… we hardly ever see each other,” Stiles explained.
“I know,” Derek sighed.
“I just thought - you know we all had a night off for once, that’s all. We can do it another night though. I’m not mad,” Stiles reassured him.
“You were frustrated,” Derek countered, feeling out of sorts.
“Not with you, Der. Just been a long week and I wanted to spend time with my son. But this is okay - now I get the night off with you,” Stiles said, letting his hands slide down Derek’s sides to rest over his lower back and ass. A low sound rumbled in Derek’s chest, making Stiles laugh breathlessly against his neck. He bit the skin there, reducing Derek to jelly.
Something had happened since they moved back - it was like all the moments where Derek noticed how, well, Alpha-like Stiles had become were exaggerated on the land that connected them, on the Nemeton’s turf.
It might have been all in his mind, but it didn’t feel like it was in his mind.
It felt like a living thing in his chest when Stiles looked at him and told him to do something now.
It hadn’t happened often - just a few innocent times - but Derek could feel it like an itch under his skin. He was all but convinced in that moment that his theory was right. If he wasn’t the alpha, then Stiles had to be - somehow. Or maybe, he wondered in the darkness of night when he couldn’t sleep, this was just what genuine love was – trust and loyalty.
He couldn’t be sure, so he never said anything.
3.
Derek watched as Eli explained to Stiles what he and Derek were working on. His legs dangled over the edge of the stool he sat on, arms gesturing wildly enough that Stiles kept reaching out to steady him. “And then Dad got the uh - the stuff?” Eli looked over to Derek with a scrunched-up expression.
Derek grinned. “Coolant,” he said.
“He got the coolant! And we fixed the air!” Eli told Stiles, “So now you won’t get gross and sweaty.”
“Dad likes it when I’m gross and sweaty,” Stiles said, turning to wink over his shoulder at Derek, “but thank you! That’s so nice of you! Are you gonna take it for a test drive with me?” Stiles asked.
Derek watched his hand trail along the side of the jeep. He’d never been jealous of it before, but as Stiles let his fingertips tap against the frame, he was embarrassed about how much it made him ache.
As if knowing - and he probably did, that asshole, always making use of his secret sense of Derek - Stiles smirked to himself before glancing back at Derek devilishly. His palm flattened against the jeep, sliding slightly down before turning back around towards their son.
God.
“Dad, can we?!” Eli exclaimed, jumping down to run to Derek. “Is it ready yet?”
“It’ll drive,” Derek nodded, pride filling him at - yet again - fixing Stiles’ old jeep. He and Eli had been working on it after the kid got home from school for a few months, and it was worth it. Stiles was beaming, and Derek knew he’d missed it since the last time it broke down. It seemed it never ran for more than a few weeks before something new went wrong. He was hopeful this time it would be more permanent though.
They drove around for an hour, mostly to test it out, but also because Eli loved the damn thing and didn’t want to go home yet. Derek could never resist him, really. He had Stiles’ eyes after all.
When they got home after stopping for dinner, Stiles fluffed up Eli’s hair and Derek told him to go get cleaned up - he’d still been covered in grease from the shop – and to get ready for bed. Stiles waited until Eli was upstairs before he slid his hands up Derek’s chest with a sneaky grin. “You should probably get cleaned up, too.” His voice was laced with promises Derek wanted with a sudden rush of desperation that made his eyes flash. “Mm, love it when you do that,” Stiles smirked. “Come on.”
He dragged Derek to their room to shower, but when they got there, he didn’t drop to his knees like Derek had been anticipating (hoping).
No, he took Derek’s clothes off carefully and got the water just right before climbing in first, pulling Derek in after him. Derek’s arousal wasn’t exactly going anywhere, but for all the suggestive smirks, Stiles didn’t pursue it. Instead, he took his time soaping Derek up, washing every inch of him like it was his job, his responsibility.
Derek’s mouth grew dry at the concentration on Stiles’ face when he gently nudged Derek to turn so he could wash his spine, the curve of his ass, the backs of his thighs.
Stiles’ hand trailed up his leg as he stood back up. His arms looped around Derek’s middle as he asked, “You good, sourwolf?”
Derek hummed. Words left him some time before at the tenderness Stiles had been showing him. As if to reward him for all his compliance, Stiles laughed softly and kissed his shoulder just as a hand drifted around to circle him with a slow tug. Derek moaned - his hand lifted to brace himself against the shower wall to stop from collapsing at the sudden sensation.
“Seeing you with our son shouldn’t be such a turn on,” Stiles mused, “but it always is.”
Derek pushed his face into his arm and nodded, because he felt that way, too. He’d always been attracted to Stiles, sure. But if he could go back in time and tell the person he was the day before he confessed how he felt to Stiles that he had no idea how hot Stiles could actually be, well… he wouldn’t have believed it.
It was quick, because they both knew Eli was going to gag and give them that you’re scarring me look when they both emerged with wet hair to say goodnight. No need to drag it out and really scar him, they figured. But Derek still got off and Stiles promised to let him pay him back after Eli went to sleep.
He dried Stiles off after their shower, still feeling warm and clingy and “gooey” (Stiles’ words) but Stiles certainly didn’t complain. He smiled fondly and kissed Derek on the lips as a thank you, then wandered over to his dresser to pull out a pair of boxers.
He threw them at Derek with a mischievous smile and watched him put them on before grabbing one of his shirts to throw at Derek next.
Derek caught Stiles’ sweatpants next, heart racing with the scent of his mate surrounding him so strongly. Stiles smiled, thoroughly pleased with himself at the sight.
He put his own clothes on quickly and trailed his fingers over Derek’s shoulders where he stood frozen in their bedroom before leaving.
In his wake, Derek ignored the thought in the back of his mind and followed him down the stairs.
Thank you, alpha.
4.
Eli was at a sleepover.
Derek had been at the station helping Noah on a case (even though Stiles offered to help. Derek couldn’t help the warmth in his chest when Noah had said he wanted to spend more time with him. It never got old) when he got the text from Eli asking if it was okay.
He confirmed with Stiles that it would be alright before telling him yes, which, while well intentioned, was his first mistake.
It meant that Stiles knew they’d have the house to themselves until sometime the following day.
It also meant that Stiles could engage in his absolute favorite pass time, or so it seemed: torture Derek when he least expects it.
Derek was nodding as Noah explained the evidence Derek was currently looking at photos of when his phone went off in his pocket. He pulled it out without thinking twice to open the text from Stiles, and promptly dropped his phone, clamoring after it to shield it from Noah’s view as his face turned beet red.
“Son?” Noah asked with a raised brow.
Derek, on the floor where his phone fell, took a measured breath to calm himself down.
It didn’t work very well.
“Do I want to know?” the sheriff sighed tiredly.
“Um. No sir. You do not want to know,” Derek mumbled, raising to his seat slowly. His face was hot to the touch.
“Are you alright?” he asked with something crossed between horror and amusement.
“Mhmm,” Derek hummed, nodding back towards the file and ignoring his phone where it was now tucked under his leg, vibrating with another text.
“Alright…” The sheriff continued describing the file on the desk, but Derek couldn’t force his brain to focus.
Stiles knew he was with his dad. He knew! What the hell was he doing sending - sending that- sending a - a-
Derek swallowed hard against the urge to look at his phone when there was another text.
It wasn’t like they never did this. When Stiles was out of town for training sessions, or symposiums, or big cases, they weren’t shy about it. Stiles once got himself off in a public restroom at a conference during a coffee break, for christ’s sake. It wasn’t like he was a prude about it.
But - the sheriff was right there.
Derek tried to focus on the file and not the tempting photo on his phone, and the texts that undoubtedly served only to rile Derek up while he was working that followed.
He lasted only another five minutes before standing to go to the bathroom. Noah grimaced and told him to bring him back coffee - the good stuff from the place around the corner. Probably so he had an excuse for not returning immediately, and so the sheriff could at least pretend he wasn’t leaving the room to go look at inappropriate texts from his son.
Derek went to the car before looking at his phone, and moan slipped out at the sight. Stiles must have set the phone up in their bathroom, because Stiles was in the shower, and it looked like he was extremely close. The following texts hadn’t just been texts - one had been Stiles actually coming, and Derek had to palm himself when he realized they must be stills from a video Stiles took on his phone.
Fuck.
Derek tapped out of the photo’s full screen mode to go back to the messages. (YOUR BETTER HALF 🐺 - Stiles stole his phone forever ago and changed his contact name, and Derek never had the heart to change it back to what it had been before – The Stilinski Shithead.)
There were two texts:
thinking about having 18 hrs to fuck. god derek had to relieve pressure so I dont come the second u get home fc k
I am going to fuck you so hard
Derek stared at his phone, eyes wide and mouth dry, for a solid minute. It was summer vacation, and it seemed like Eli was always home, or worse - had friends over. They didn’t have as many opportunities to be intimate, and Derek couldn’t remember the last time Stiles fucked him (he could. He remembered every time, but that was beside the point) and if he was setting that as the expectation for the night, well Derek was not going to complain.
He typed out a response on shaky hands: you are trying to kill me
YOUR BETTER HALF 🐺 : ohhh where would the fun in that be. Tell dad I say hi 😇
Derek groaned and hit his head on the headrest.
It was a long day.
By the time he got home, he was so worked up that he was afraid he wouldn’t make it to their room before crowding Stiles against a wall and begging him for it.
Stiles was upstairs though, the little shit. Derek could hear him up there putzing around, even though his heart rate spiked the second he realized Derek was home. When Derek got to him, he smirked and looked Derek up and down slowly, eyes dragging along the bulge in his pants. “Took you long enough,” he drew out.
Getting Derek out of his clothes took less time than it should have, mainly because Derek was pretty willing to rip them off his body (and did, with his shirt). Stiles had his hands on every inch of him the second it was revealed while his mouth worked on his neck, and Derek felt like he was on fire before anything even happened.
It was always like that with Stiles. Derek had never been intimate with a man before Stiles, even if Stiles didn’t believe him at first about it. He’d always wondered, but after Kate - he didn’t trust himself to be vulnerable with someone that mattered. Women seemed safer, and it wasn’t until Stiles that he realized maybe women felt safer because he couldn’t actually fall in love with them.
Sure, he could be manipulated. But that was different. Stiles, and the therapist Stiles made him see, helped him see that.
Regardless, he had never experienced the level of trust that came with sex with Stiles. It was new, it was terrifying, it was exhilarating, and it never seemed to stop leaving him breathless. He knew that happened sometimes - that things got stagnant, that it was completely normal to feel like things fizzled out, or needed a change in a long term relationship. But Stiles always had a way about him, and no matter what they did in bed, Derek always felt like he had to catch his breath after because of how overwhelmed Stiles made him, in the best possible way.
Stiles had said it was mutual the first time Derek voiced this, and the truth in his voice made Derek fall into the comfort of their trust even further.
But it all meant that Stiles could light him up with the slightest touch, even after being together a dozen years. When he got Derek down on the bed with his hands pressed into the mattress, something innate in Derek took over, something placid and pleasing and entirely animal. Stiles’ hands pressed into his spine, shoving Derek’s shoulders down with a force that came with many years of practice with taming a werewolf mate.
Not that Derek had been tamed.
But he felt owned, sometimes. Stiles fucked up his brain, probably, because Derek never wanted to feel like he was out of control after Kate. But Stiles could push his face into their bed and tell him not to move, and Derek would obey like his life depended on it, and he’d be fucking thrilled doing it all the while.
And Stiles loved it. Loved that no one would look at them and assume there was a part of Derek that wanted it, that every now and then, needed Stiles to take care of him like that.
So when Stiles pressed his body over Derek’s, holding his wrists to the bed, Derek was already at the edge. “You can come, but I’m going to fuck you either way,” he breathed into Derek’s ear, and the man moaned into the mattress at the thought.
It was a near thing, Derek coming, when Stiles slid back down his body to open him up. When it got like that, when Stiles got like that, Derek turned his mind off and relaxed into the bed, knowing he was safe and that Stiles wouldn’t do anything he didn’t enjoy. It took the pressure off and let him drift in his arousal and Stiles’ arousal and the scent of their efforts.
He did come, but only when Stiles bit into the flesh of his ass while pressing against his prostate, and really, Derek wasn’t surprised that did it. It usually did, which was why Stiles always went for it. As Derek moaned into the bed, riding it out, Stiles murmured about the way he looked with his fingers in his ass. It was one of those things that had been hard for Derek to get used to at first - the praise Stiles gave him, or even just random musings about his ass or dick or abs - but it was easier after so many years together. Comforting even.
He was on such a high that it didn’t occur to him to brace himself before Stiles entered him, and the shock of it had him calling out.
It seemed Stiles had been just as riled up as he’d made Derek, because it felt endless, and yet desperate. Derek had to grab onto the sheets to stop from shaking, eventually caving to lift a hand to stop himself from sliding into the headboard while Stiles pushed into him with the kind of force that he only saved for when Eli wasn’t home. Even with the soundproofing, he said Derek acted dick drunk for hours after, and they didn’t want to subject their son to that.
It was like a treat, Derek thought deliriously as Stiles lifted his hips another inch to put his knees where he wanted them. The new angle had Derek in tears in thirty seconds flat, his voice growing horse as he got hard again with a dizzying speed thanks to Stiles’ efforts and the werewolf stamina Stiles loved so much.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Stiles encouraged with a hand smoothing over Derek’s back. “That’s it, baby. Feel good?”
“Yeah,” Derek croaked, eyes clenched tight as he pushed back into it.
“You look so good,” Stiles said almost reverently. And that was the thing - even if they were getting rough, even if Derek tied him to the headboard, or Stiles tested his limits, there was always a reverence to it. A quietness to contrast the heat of the moment. Stiles never made him feel like he was falling out of orbit.
As he got close, he felt Stiles’ doubling down and knew he was close as well. It was like a tidal wave, and the tipping point was Stiles leaning over to breathe into his ear, “Now.” Derek desperately reached for something to brace himself with and muffled his mouth against his arm when the urge to scream overwhelmed him as he came. A garbled sound escaped as he used all his energy not to say it.
He couldn’t say it. Not during sex, god.
He laid there as Stiles finished, but it was a living thing in his mind as Stiles told him not to move afterwards, to let him come down from the high.
Derek closed his eyes and matched his breath, thinking alpha, alpha, alpha.
5.
Everything was red. The air was stale - no, not stale, thick. With smoke. The walls engulfed in flames that flickered and faded in and out and in and out and there was a stench to it, a burning that was unnatural, sickening, familiar -
Derek clawed at his arms to rid them of falling ash as the room collapsed around him. “ELI!” he screamed, but nothing. “STILES!”
His voice grew weak the longer he screamed and as he stumbled through their house, picture frames fell from the walls. There was a voice in the distance, a shadowy sound that followed his movements, tracking him like prey.
A laugh he’d tried to forget, a laugh he thought he had forgotten.
“No, no no no no -”
He fell to his knees as a beam fell from the ceiling, swallowed in flames. His skin burned where he knew his healing must be kicking in, but when he looked down, he found the skin was scorched fresh, bone showing through the gore of his own worst fear.
“Stiles,” he sobbed, staring into the burning of his own limbs, hearing her laughter in the flickering flames, but no sign of his husband or son at all.
The room shifted on its axis in a thundering earthquake, the walls shattering and gleaming, burning to nothing as the dizziness of oxygen deprivation took over. Stumbling, Derek crawled on hands and knees to try to go back upstairs to their son’s bedroom. The staircase fell out from under him in a cloud of smoke, and he vomited at the sight of their house disappearing beneath his hands, as if he himself was setting it ablaze.
Then -
“Wake up!”
Derek sat straight up, gasping for breath, sobbing through the panic wrecking his nervous system. It didn’t register that he’d awoken from a dream - the sickness lingered as Derek fell out of bed in his own hurry to get out, to get to their son, to get them out -
A fallen pillow tripped him as he tried to run. His own chest felt as though it was caving in.
He still saw flames all around him.
“Derek,” he heard. That voice -
His eyes welled back up, panic coating the walls of their bedroom with a sickly scent. He had to get to Eli. He had to. Had to. Had to.
“Derek. Stop.”
The wind was knocked out of him when he tried stepping forward. He was stuck.
“Breathe,” he heard, but it registered more in his mind as action than it did as a real voice. “Breathe, that’s it. Oh my god. Okay, okay fuck. Derek? Derek, just keep breathing, okay?”
It was Stiles. It was Stiles. “Stiles?” he cried, falling down to his knees as the flames ebbed away with each breath he took, reality coming forward once more.
“Yeah, yeah it’s me,” Stiles said with a great deal of urgency as he neared, pulling Derek into his arms. “It’s me, baby. I got you. It was a dream, we’re safe. We’re all safe. I promise.”
“Fire,” Derek gasped, reaching to turn Stiles towards him so he could make sure he wasn’t hurt.
“No fire,” Stiles promised as he clung to Derek’s hands on his body. “Feel me? I’m okay. We’re okay. It was a dream.”
Derek hadn’t a had a nightmare in what felt like ages. He had them all the time when he was younger, and they lingered on for quite some time after he and Stiles got together, but this was worse than most had been since Laura was still alive.
Stiles knew without having to be told that it was happening now because today was the anniversary. He always knew the day, Derek didn’t really know how he learned originally - it must have been the sheriff who told him. They’d talked about it in depth since getting together nearly fifteen years ago, so Derek knew he didn’t have to tell him now.
His understanding of the situation also meant Stiles anticipated something every year - whether it be a nightmare, or a depressive episode, or simply Derek reverting to his old ways of being less than talkative - he never pushed on the anniversary, because he knew the sun would rise again and Derek would start to come out of it. Never all at once, but gradually, and after a few days he’d be okay again.
Stiles held him close and murmured in his ear that it was a dream until Derek stopped shaking so hard, but the panic was still there under the surface like a living, breathing monster. He wanted to tell Stiles to force him to calm down. If he wanted to, he could. Derek didn’t know if Stiles knew.
His voice didn’t work, though. He couldn’t ask for that.
Derek pushed his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck and tried to stop the crying, the remembering, the fear. “Derek, we’re going to take a few deep breaths, okay?” The way he said it was tender, almost hushed, but Derek nodded. “Follow my breaths,” he told Derek. There it was - that glimmer of power that had Derek’s shoulders fall in relief.
He breathed with Stiles for several minutes until his mind cleared and the worst was over. Stiles held onto him the entire time while his hands roamed Derek’s body, messing up his hair, caressing down his spine, over his sides, his arms. It was a solid reminder that he was there, and alive.
“Better?” Stiles asked after the panic drifted away from Derek. He nodded. “Do you need to see Eli?” Derek nodded again, grateful that Stiles understood that knowing Eli was okay, and seeing Eli was okay, were two entirely different things.
Stiles pulled Derek up and held his hand as they left the safety of their room and walked to Eli’s instead. The door was opening when they approached to reveal a wide eyed, frantic teenage boy. “What happened?” he asked, fear itching in the back of his scent like something stuck. Derek pulled him into a tight hug and began scenting him to erase it.
“Your dad had a pretty intense nightmare,” Stiles said slowly.
“I’m okay, Dad,” Eli whispered into Derek’s shoulder. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
“We’re all okay,” Stiles said intentionally with a hand on Derek’s back to soothe him.
“I know.” It was the first thing Derek had said in some time, and he could smell the relief it caused in Stiles. With an outstretched hand, he pulled Stiles into their little huddle to let the safety of pack surround him.
For awhile, they stayed that way. Derek let himself recalibrate and gain some distance from the dream that plagued him while the other two slowly started to relax the more Derek did. At some point, Stiles pulled back and kissed the top of Eli’s head. “I think we’re good now,” he smiled sleepily. “You should try to get some sleep.”
“You sure?” Eli asked, skeptically looking between his dads. Derek nodded, but blindly searched for Stiles’ hand to grab at his side as an anchor.
“I’m okay now,” he told his son, and nodded at Stiles. “We should sleep, too.”
“Yeah, you should,” Stiles sighed, knowing that would be a losing battle. They all went to their rooms, Derek trailing after Stiles as exhaustion took over his body.
“You should actually try to sleep,” Stiles tried when their door was closed.
“No.”
“Derek -”
“I can’t - I can’t close my eyes. Okay?” Derek went to their bed and slunk over onto Stiles’ side without asking to bury his face in the pillow that held the strongest bit of Stiles’ scent. Stiles gave him a heavy sigh before rounding the bed to Derek’s side to slip in behind him. Derek felt the tension ease out of him as Stiles pressed in close to wrap an arm around his middle.
“You could try. I’ll be right here,” Stiles promised. For a minute, Derek considered it. His body was exhausted, and his mind was all over the place. It would help to sleep and he knew it, but -
“I - I can’t,” Derek choked out. His hand went for Stiles to pull him closer around his body until they were pressed shoulder to knee.
Stiles kissed his shoulder in response. “Please don’t make me,” Derek whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure Stiles heard at first, but his heart skipped a beat at the implications. Derek almost said it then, but knew he didn’t need to. Stiles understood what he meant.
Even if they still hadn’t talked about it, Derek knew that Stiles had to know. Somewhere along the line, Stiles started acting like he knew what he could do, the power he held in their family. In their pack.
He had to know he could make Derek sleep if he really wanted to.
“I won’t make you,” Stiles promised him, voice tense and low with understanding. “You don’t have to sleep if you don’t want to.” Derek shuddered with relief, nodding into the pillow as he sank into the bed. “Do you just want me to hold you?”
“Yes.” Derek smiled faintly when Stiles settled in for the night against him, body warm and familiar and safe.
Stiles drifted off eventually, the even rhythm of his heartbeat relaxing Derek more than anything else possibly could. And while he didn’t fall asleep, he got close a few times before Stiles’ alarm clock went off the next morning.
Stiles rolled over to turn it off before tugging Derek’s body over his like a blanket. “Want me to call in sick?” he asked, voice gravely and sexier than Derek thought it had any right being.
“You don’t have to,” Derek told him, but he was already plastered to Stiles’ body, face shoved against his neck as he breathed in deep.
“I think I will. We can sit in bed all day. Or go for a walk if you want. Anything you want,” Stiles told him.
Derek smiled. “Thank you,” he mumbled, nuzzling closer, almost tickling Stiles with his beard.
“I’ll do anything for you,” Stiles said like a promise, vowed in strength that Derek felt in his own chest, warm and comforting and safe.
His eyes closed, and he slept.
+1
Derek planned a kid-free weekend for them out in the redwoods a few months after Eli turned sixteen. Things were getting hectic at home and they desperately needed it; they were stressed about the adoption going through, not to mention Eli was starting to talk about college seriously, and the way he talked about their family growing made Derek nervous that he didn’t want it to. Stiles’ department was growing, which was good - but it meant more responsibility for him as the boss. Derek watched the stress eat away at Stiles by way of dark circles under his eyes and felt unsettled with the need to do more for his mate.
He wanted to take him somewhere the stress couldn’t follow.
“Camping?” Stiles lifted a skeptical brow when he brought it up.
“We can get a camper, you princess,” Derek rolled his eyes. “I won’t force you to sleep on the ground.”
“I mean, we could. It’s just - I can’t imagine it’ll be comfortable for what we’ll be doing.”
Derek gave him a loaded look, but the tips of his ears turned pink anyway. Stiles grinned because he knew Derek had been caught thinking about all the things they could do with an entire weekend to themselves.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t -” Derek started, but Stiles rushed around the kitchen to get to him, hands framing his face as he smiled softly.
“I want to. I do, really. Thank you for planning it,” he told him with a kiss. “Seriously. Best husband ever.”
They had rented the remodeled camper for three days, and Derek felt the weight of the world leave him with every mile they drove. Stiles listened to music too loud and sang even louder, and Derek let the windows roll down to feel the warm air rushing on his skin, and he had the sudden, vicious, beautiful thought that wouldn’t stay in his own mind.
“I feel like I’m seventeen.” Stiles looked over him with concerned eyes. “This is what seventeen was supposed to feel like,” he explained, glancing over at Stiles with a small smile.
“I don’t know how you still do this me,” Stiles wondered, turning the music down. “It’s been so long… and… you just… still say shit. That fucking breaks my heart.”
“I don’t mean for it to,” Derek said, brows scrunching up.
“No, I know you don’t. It’s a happy thought for you,” Stiles smiled sadly. “But it’s so fucking sad for me. I wish I knew you when you were seventeen. I wish I could give that to you.”
“I get to have it now,” he shrugged, looking back over the road. “It’s better now. I can appreciate it more.”
“I love you,” Stiles said softly, shaking his head.
Derek hadn’t been to the redwoods since he was eleven with his family. There was an air of nostalgia there he couldn’t shake, and as they walked hand in hand along a trail, he told Stiles every memory he had from the trip. In turn, Stiles told him about the only time he’d gone with his parents when he was a kid before his mom got sick.
It was a living film reel, the trees telling stories of all that had been before, almost like they knew all that would come after. Derek took a picture of Stiles standing in from of the biggest tree they could find and sent it to Eli with a smile plastered on his face, and when Stiles laid down on a stump to see how big it was compared to him, he laughed for no reason at all, no reason other than he was having stupid fun with his best friend.
The thought plagued him all day until they were back at their camper. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” he asked Stiles seriously.
A slow smile formed on Stiles’ face as he turned to look into Derek’s eyes. “Yeah, I know,” he whispered, “you’re my best friend, too.”
“Still?”
“Of course, still,” Stiles laughed, nudging Derek’s shoulder with his own. Derek smiled and nodded at their hands twisted around each other in Stiles’ lap. Stiles rested his head against Derek’s shoulder, and for a moment, everything stilled.
Derek could hear the creek nearby, and the critters going about their nightly routines in the forest. He could smell the fresh air and the leaves, the dirt under them. Through it all was Stiles, a solid frame next to him, the loudest sound in his chest, the best smell at the nape of his neck. Derek pressed his lips to Stiles’ forehead and thought about the family they’d built together, the lives they had woven around each other, and a sense of calm washed over him.
Stiles sighed against him, and Derek watched as his thumb dragged along the stretch of Derek’s wrist. Their rings caught the low light of the camper, and Derek took a deep breath.
“You’re more than that, you know,” Derek said, feeling his chest constrict with weight. Stiles was silent for a beat, but his breathing remained even. “You’re more than my best friend, or my mate. Or my husband.”
“You’re more, too,” Stiles murmured back. A surge of affection came over Derek at what Stiles was doing, at the love he was trying to return to Derek in the moment, always there to remind Derek that Stiles was not “more” than he was, ever. That Derek was more than enough, too.
“Stiles,” he said softly. Reverently. “You know, don’t you. That you’re more to our pack.”
For a breath, he thought Stiles might pretend not to know what he was talking about, but then his heart skipped, and Stiles took a deep, steading breath. “I don’t understand it, but yes.” Derek nuzzled against him with a bit of relief flowing between them at finally having it out there. “Do you understand? How it’s possible?”
“No,” Derek admitted as he kissed the side of Stiles’ head. “All I know is - you’re my alpha,” he breathed.
The air shuddered out of Stiles in a rush. “Jesus. That felt weird to hear,” he laughed softly.
“Bad?” Derek wondered.
“No, no, actually.” At the sound of his voice and the warmth in his scent, Derek pulled back enough to look at him. A slight blush lit the tops of Stiles’ cheeks. “It felt- right. I guess.” Stiles shrugged with a nervous smile that Derek had to kiss.
“I’ve been afraid to talk to you,” Derek admitted. “I didn’t know if you’d want to be my alpha.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Stiles asked incredulously. “If anything, I was worried you wouldn’t want it. I never want you to feel like I’m taking your agency away.”
“You haven’t,” Derek pointed out with a lifted hand to Stiles’ neck. “I trust you. I don’t think you’d be able to be one without that.”
“The trust of a True Mate,” Stiles mused.
“Perfect for a True Alpha,” Derek offered.
“That’s so fucking weird. Do you think if I turned then I’d be one?”
“Yeah,” Derek nodded, without an ounce of doubt. He always thought Stiles would be, anyway. Everyone who ever met Stiles commented on what a great wolf he’d make. It seemed obvious, like he was made for it.
“I’ve known for awhile,” Stiles told him sheepishly. “I wasn’t sure, you know. It didn’t seem possible. But you’d… obey,” he said, cringing for a moment before smiling and shrugging, almost winking.
“Yeah, don’t think I haven’t noticed you having fun with that when we’re fucking,” Derek laughed. Stiles joined in, the two caught up in the freedom of finally talking about the impossible truth.
“It’s really amazing, Der. I mean - it’s so so hot. I can’t tell you how hot it is,” Stiles said through the giggles.
“If it’s any help, it’s just as hot for me,” Derek blushed, shrugging.
“Really?”
Derek dropped his eyes and searched for words. “It’s freeing. I never thought I’d like that after her. But it feels good - with you.”
“I can’t believe you’re turning what is essentially a conversation about sexual submission into something romantic. You are one of a kind,” Stiles laughed. Derek shoved him but pulled him right back in to rest his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “We should probably talk about that more though. I’ve never really used it much because - well, obvious reasons. I didn’t want you to get triggered or anything with consent issues. But we should talk about it sometime.”
“Yeah, probably,” Derek agreed.
“Does Eli know? Not about the sex stuff,” Stiles hurried, making Derek laugh. “About me, you know… being the alpha?”
“I’m sure Eli knows,” Derek said thoughtfully. “I don’t know if it’s ever occurred to him to think differently though. He treats you like one, so I assume he’s always known… We can talk to him when we’re home to make sure, though.”
“That’s good,” Stiles nodded. They sat quietly together for several minutes, enjoying the peaceful intimacy they shared. Derek felt his wolf settle in a new way, in a deeply, inherently content way. The ability to voice his happiness at Stiles being his alpha had put that part of him at ease at last - he hadn’t even realized he’d grown restless.
“You’re okay with this, right?” Stiles asked eventually. “You don’t wish it was you? I know we’ve talked about that - about how you’re glad you’re not alpha. But this is a little different.”
“Stiles,” Derek sighed and shifted so Stiles was facing him. He traced his hands over Stiles’ face and down his chest, resting over his heart. “I was never meant to be an alpha, it should never have happened in the first place. You ever think about how - when I met you, I wasn’t an alpha, Stiles. If you’d been turned instead of Scott, I don’t know if I ever would have been one because... I am bound to you,” he said reverently, smiling down at the beat of Stiles’ heart under his palm. “I have always been bound to you. I will always be bound to you.
“You have something - we might not understand how, or why, but you do. Maybe it’s the spark, we don’t understand that either, but it’s part of you. It could be what lets you pull strength from the pack and moon the way alphas do. Whatever it is - however you are what you are, I think I’ve always known. You have always been that person for me even when I was trying like hell to hate you. You are the only person I have ever met who never hesitated to save me, even when you didn’t even know me. You were willing to take care of me, even when I wished I had been dead.”
“Derek,” Stiles sighed with a slow shake of his head. “You are being incredibly sappy.”
“I’m being incredibly honest,” he said, and Stiles smiled. “You have been my alpha since the moment I saw you. The rest has been us playing catch up.”
“I can’t even talk to you right now. I feel like my chest is going to explode,” Stiles laughed wetly. “I love you, Derek,” he said.
And that was enough, Derek thought as he leaned in to kiss him. It was more than enough.
“I love you too, Alpha.”