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Geek on the streets, freak in the sheets.

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Halloween is Stiles Stilinski’s all time favourite Holiday.

He knows it’s barely a blip on the Holiday scale for most people, but not for him, no sir.

It’s his absolute favourite, not just because it’s the perfect excuse to get a little wild, drink a little too much and dress up silly. Although, make no mistake, he will admit those parts are totally awesome.

It’s everything leading up to it and around it that Stiles really, truly loves about it.

It’s feeling the air begin to turn chilly in those first October weeks. It’s having to dig out his scarves from the back of his closet, where he’d discarded them at the end of last winter. It’s walking around the park, sipping pumpkin spiced lattes and watching the leaves fall from the trees.

It’s watching old horror movies in the weeks leading up to the 31st with his Dad, a tradition his Mom had started and they always honour.

It’s buying candy for “the trick or treating kids” at least two weeks in advance and then having to buy more, every single day, because Stiles eats it all.

So yeah, you could say no one is surprised when October comes around and Stiles gets as excited as his Dad does around Pizza, and trans fats in general.

Yes, Stiles Stilinski loves Halloween.

The surprise comes, to Stiles’ shock, that apparently Derek “nothingmakesmehappy” Hale loves Halloween too.




When Stiles had graduated from the FBI academy the previous Summer, he’d done some real soul searching and decided to move back to Beacon Hills.

He’d graduated top of his class but since the complete shit show that was the Monroe situation two years previous, he’d felt Home calling to him in a way he couldn’t ignore any longer.

The way the old gang had pulled together back then, Lydia, Scott, Peter, even Derek returning, it had been a revelation. It had been just him and his Dad for so long, he’d missed the fact that he’d somehow grown an actual family. He’d accidentally become surrounded by people who weren’t just friends, but people who would die for him.

It had made him feel like he needed to be around the people he loved more than ever.

He had a newfound appreciation for the spectacularly average life and since he moved back to Beacon Hills permanently in September, he was settling into old routine like he’d never left.

He’d taken a job as a Consulting Detective which meant he could pick and choose when and where he would be working and what cases to take. He was thoroughly enjoying the freedom of it.

It paid very well because he came highly recommended by his superiors in Quantico and it didn’t hurt that since he’d been in role just one month previous, he’d solved two very high profile cases for local law enforcement.

He’s very much in demand, but when his Dad had asked him if he was staying at home Halloween week, with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, Stiles had deliberately not taken on any work.

Stiles knows that the week leading up to Halloween could bring lots of Father-Son bonding time and he’s not willing to miss it.

So now he’s enjoying a blissful few days off and sitting ready to enjoy a pack meeting in a Coffee shop. He’s first there as usual, waiting for Derek, Scott and Malia.

Pack meetings now take place in the one decent coffee house that Beacon Hills has to offer, one that isn’t run by a chain.

Stiles had been coming here since he saw the sign above the door when it opened years ago. He’d laughed so hard when he first saw it, he’d tripped over (standard) and took out a man dressed as a giant coffee cup on their grand opening. At least he’d had a padded fall.

“Sip me baby one more time” had quickly become established as the new pack meeting place because Stiles insisted on regular hot, caffeine beverages to keep him research focused.

Derek was also apparently fed up of playing barista to a bunch of wayward 20 year olds every time they descended on the loft. When Stiles had brought his own gingerbread syrup over a few weeks previous, Derek had finally given in and indulged Stiles’ pleas to meet in a more relaxed environment.

Stiles thinks if Lydia was still here, she’d have backed him up earlier and supported the move too. She loves a freshly brewed Earl grey tea.

As it stands, she is currently studying and working as a part time lecturer in advanced bio-engineering in England, having been headhunted by Oxford university after graduation.

Stiles often mocks her on their weekly Skype catch up calls saying her life is like some sort of movie and she usually replies with “you’re one to talk”.

They’d stayed close when their barely begun romance fizzled out. For Stiles, the realisation that what he’d wanted for so long with Lydia wasn’t actually what he really wanted anymore, had been a real shock.

It had been strange discovering there was literally zero romantic chemistry between them and it had really caught him off balance. He thought it would be easy with her. Maybe that was the problem.

Maybe he didn’t want easy.

He’d been honest with Lydia after what equated to just two very awkward days of dating and she’d shook her beautiful head and smiled at him sadly and just said “I know sweetie,” and kissed him on the cheek.

It was almost too easy to go back to being single and he’d thrown himself into work back then.

Stiles looks up hopefully, jarred from his reminiscing thoughts when he hears the door to the coffee shop jingle, but it’s just a hipster looking dude who he doesn’t recognise. He has a questionable goatee and a flat cap. The guy has what his Babcia would have called ‘a kind face’.

The Dude smiles at him as he waits for his order and Stiles smiles back politely, not wanting to give off the impression he’s interested but also not wanting to be rude.

Stiles looks back down to his nearly empty coffee cup and resists the urge to order another one just yet. One coffee per hour Derek says, otherwise his heartbeat goes insane. He licks his lips chasing the sweet taste of syrup.

Although, Derek isn’t here yet, so what he doesn’t know...

“Hi,” says a cheery voice.

Stiles blinks, looks upwards and hipster dude is standing there holding a cup and a plate, hopeful expression all over his stupidly kind face.

“Oh,” Stiles says, surprised.

“So, I hope you don’t mind but you looked kind of lonely. And very cute in those glasses. So I bought you a muffin,” the dude smiles and holds the plate out toward Stiles.

“A what?” Stiles splutters, feeling his face go warm and he pushes his glasses up his nose.

He doesn’t always wear them because he thinks they make him look geeky but looks like geek is in right now. Go him.

The guy is looking at him now as if there might be something wrong with him and like he might possibly regret his decision coming over here.

The thing is, put Stiles in a work environment and he’s the most eloquent, in-command guy in the room. Put him in front of a half cute guy who may or may not be trying to hit on him and he goes to pieces. This is clearly why he’s still single.

“A muffin? You know, err, a soft cakey, baked thing. Very delicious. It’s got blueberries in it?” The guy tries again and shrugs holding out the plate, “it’s for you.”

Stiles hates blueberries.

“Oh. Well... erm... that’s very nice of you,” Stiles stands up and takes the plate.

He’s a little taller than hipster dude and for some reason it irritates him.

The guy looks at him, smile beaming and holds his now free hand out to Stiles.

“My name is Greg,” he says cheerfully.

“Cool. Stiles,” Stiles takes his hand, plate in the other.

Since the Lydia revelation, Stiles had forced himself to admit that maybe he was into guys in a big way, but unfortunately, this guy isn’t ticking any of Stiles’ boxes.

Stiles tries not to dwell very hard on the fact that he’s not actually properly been with any guy at all yet, because he’s found it hard to pin down exactly what he’s looking for. He’s been on a few dates but none have moved past kissing.

So he has a lot of boxes...

He hates himself a little for not being more adventurous but if he’s honest with himself he knows the exact reason why.

Just as he’s thinking that maybe he should try to give this dude a chance, he hears the door to the coffee shop ding again and Derek storms in.

He says ‘storms’ because Derek missions about everywhere like he’s a force of nature, there’s nothing calm about anything he does. Even standing stock still the man looks like the embodiment of the eye of a tornado, deceptively relaxed but all silent rage.

Stiles’ eyes automatically find Derek’s and Stiles feels like he’s instantly transported back in the woods, when he was sixteen again, looking for Scott’s inhaler.

He was flushed, breathless and captivated at the sight of Derek then and it’s exactly the same now, if not worse.

It feels like all the air in the room is gone and his whole world narrows down to Derek Hale, Alpha werewolf, general badass and secret object of Stiles’ unyielding adoration.

Not that Derek’s ever to find that out, or he would probably claw Stiles’ face off.

Derek’s wearing a dark grey jumper, sinfully tight jeans and he’s let his stubble grow through a little. He’s got a scarf thrown casually around his neck and Stiles recognises it as the one he gave him for Christmas the previous year. He looks great.

Derek, also now a permanent resident of Beacon hills and one of his Dad’s Deputies (Stiles had laughed his ass off at that one when his Dad had told him, but turns out Derek was born for law enforcement and was actually a brilliant Deputy) had spent last Christmas at the Stillinski household.

Stiles had given him a scarf that he’d spent ages choosing and Derek had looked softly pleased when he’d opened it, mumbling thanks at him.

Stiles knows as a wolf, Derek naturally doesn’t get cold, so every time he sees Derek wearing the scarf he feels funny in his tummy. He knows Derek’s only wearing it because he actually likes it and it pleases him an unhealthy amount.

Derek’s eyes are still that weird mix of grey-green-hazel they’ve always been and Stiles swears when Derek looks over toward them, he sees a flash of red.

Derek walks over to them and he looks even more unimpressed than usual. He doesn’t stop to order coffee, the usual barista sees him and turns on the machine when Derek nods in her direction.

Stiles glares at her. She hits on Derek every single time he comes in here. If the damn coffee wasn’t so good, he’d be off to Starbucks sharpish.

Stiles feels a tug on his hand and he realises he’s still pumping Greg’s hand up and down in greeting, Greg trying to pull it away. Greg’s looking at Derek approaching them in alarm.

Stiles drops Greg’s hand as Derek reaches them and he takes a seat in Stiles’ chair. Stiles has to step forward or he’s going to end up sitting in Dereks lap.

“Dude!” Stiles protests, “that’s my chair!”

Derek nods at Greg and takes his scarf off.

The barista comes and puts Derek’s coffee down, trying to make eye contact, but Derek’s only got eyes for Greg apparently.

“Thank you,” Derek says politely without even looking at her.

To Stiles’ sadistic satisfaction, she leaves looking a bit put out.

“Who’s your friend Stiles?” Derek continues pleasantly, his thunderous face at war with his fake happy voice.

“Oh! Greg, this is my friend Derek. Derek this is Greg. He... bought me a muffin,” Stiles trails off, feeling awkward, blushing.

He kind of feels like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

The Goddamn Derek Hale Effect.

“Hi,” Greg says to Derek, his chipper tone not wavering in the face of all that hotness and anger and he gives a little wave. Kudos to him.

Derek sniffs the air.

“Stiles hates blueberries,” Derek says in lieu of a greeting.

Stiles just gawps at him and his astounding lack of social skills. Weirdo wolf.

Greg, to be fair, doesn’t miss a beat.

“That’s cool, maybe I can buy you dinner instead Stiles?” Greg smiles, not quite picking up on the mood.

Stiles wants the ground to swallow him up and he thinks it actually might when he hears a quiet rumble, then he realises it’s just Derek growling very softly behind him.

Stiles turns around and glares at Derek. This is typical Alpha Derek Hale behaviour. He could star in a nature documentary about Wolves and pack instincts, honestly.

He’s had two years of watching Stiles be single and he’s not once made a move. He’s clearly not interested, he just doesn’t like sharing his pack and to be totally honest, Stiles is fed up of being alone and pining after Derek.

“Sorry Greg, I’m hanging with my friends tonight,” Stiles says, still looking directly at Derek who promptly stops growling and instead gives a tiny satisfied smile.

Smug bastard.

Stiles turns back to face Greg, putting his back to Derek, a blatant display of disobedience.

Stick that on the discovery channel.

“But I’m free tomorrow?” Stiles adds, looking at Greg.

Derek makes a wounded noise behind him that makes Stiles flinch, but he doesn’t turn around. Greg seems oblivious to the whole situation but cocks his head thoughtfully.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween, but I’m going to this party my friend is throwing. She organises this big thing every year. You should come! It’s costume, but I’d love to see you there. You can bring people if you like. Just say my name on the door,” Greg scribbles down the address of the party on a napkin and Stiles takes it.

“Cool, well I guess I’ll see you there,” Stiles gives a little wave as Greg’s walking away.

When Greg’s out of earshot and safely sitting across the coffee shop in a booth, Stiles turns around, taking the seat opposite Derek; he’s deliberately not looking at him. It’s hard because he can feel Derek’s intense gaze boring holes into his forehead.

Luckily, Malia and Scott take that moment to arrive. Stiles notices they’re hand in hand. He smiles at them happily. Maybe someone gets to have their happy ending.

They all exchange hugs and settle down getting comfy and the talk immediately turns to some training issues. Scott wants to discuss some newly bitten wolves that Theo and Liam had run into on their latest travels.

Those two backpacking across Mexico had been an interesting gap year idea that was proving to be more trouble than it was worth.

They all discuss how to help Liam and Theo support the new Wolves remotely and settle on sending them some information on a local pack contact they can seek out for help.

Then talk turns to their plans for tomorrow, for Halloween night. Scott and Malia want to have a movie night and refuse point blank to go to the party. Derek doesn't say anything at all on the subject.

Scott, bless his soul tries to draw Derek into conversation, picking up on the atmosphere and they end up having a lengthy discussion about the merits of Toffee apples vs Chocolate dipped apples before Malia and Scott make their excuses and head out.

Without even asking, Derek goes up to the counter to get more coffee for himself and Stiles. Derek scowls at Greg as he leaves, baring his teeth when he waves goodbye enthusiastically to Stiles. Stiles rolls his eyes at Derek and buries his head in his phone.

He comes back with a little spooky ghost cookie which he places on Stiles’ table next to the plate with the untouched muffin.

Stiles isn’t letting him get off that easy.

Derek breaks the silence first.

“Are you going to actually go to that party?” Derek grunts.

It seems they’re getting straight to it.

“Yes. Dad’s got the night shift, so why not? I know you don’t even like Halloween, but I do, so excuse me if I go and enjoy it.” Stiles says to him softly, still looking down.

“What? Yes I do. I love Halloween... Well... my sisters used to love it...” Derek says quietly.

Stiles gives up. That’s not playing fair. He can’t keep up the silent treatment when Derek pulls the dead family card.

Stiles finally looks at Derek. He’s sat back down in his chair opposite. Derek doesn’t look angry anymore but he is still staring at him.

“Don’t worry. I won’t crash your date,” Derek adds and Stiles just can’t place his tone.

It’s like he’s aimed for nonchalant but fell short and landed in ‘sad’ territory.

Derek looks really intense. Stiles swallows nervously and refuses to feel guilty about his date. Derek can’t expect him to stay single forever. Just because he doesn’t want him, it doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t want him.

“You can come. I don’t care. I’m sure there will be something for you to do there...” Stiles grouches at him.

Screw Derek Hale. Stiles thinks he might just use his favourite season to get over his stupid crush. It’s been four years too many that he’s felt like this and he’s not falling for Derek’s possessive guilt trip.

Stiles deliberately picks up the muffin and Derek’s eyebrows practically touch his lips, he frowns so hard.

Stiles licks his lips and he takes a large bite of the muffin. It’s a blatant declaration.

Derek snarls and the noise shouldn’t thrill Stiles as much as it does but hey ho.

Stiles chews exaggeratedly.

Derek snarls some more.

Stiles picks up a napkin and spits a giant wedge of chewed muffin into it and flops back in his chair with a world weary sigh.

I fucking hate blueberries,” Stiles mutters sadly.

“I know...” Derek growls pushing the plate with the ghost cookie back towards him.

Stiles eats it.


The next day after spending the whole afternoon marathoning every horror from Alien to Carrie with his Pops, Stiles gets ready for the party.

He keeps checking his phone every two seconds. No text from Derek to confirm if he’s coming to the party with him. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. Or hoping for.

He does get one call from Scott.

“What did you do to Derek last night? I just saw him standing outside the station giving out huge bags of candy to passing kids with his Alpha face on. He lets them get close then roars and scares them off. He looks really pleased with himself. Little Timmy and Sandy Garrison cried. I’m sure that’s not how trick or treating works?” Scott accuses.

Stiles might be a bad person at how much he laughs at that image.

“I didn’t do anything. He’s just grumpy because he doesn’t like bringing new people into the gang,” Stiles shrugs even though Scott can’t see him.

“Well clearly you said something to him, he’s in a terrible mood,” Scott tries again, “Stiles, you know this isn’t about new people interrupting Derek’s social circle? You can’t be that dumb... it’s about you...specifically you...”

“Why, because I’m the only human and he gets all defensive and protecty over me? I can handle myself...” Stiles shrugs, “Scotty, you’re ruining my date vibes, I need to go.”

“Oh for... and you call me the dumb one... alright, whatever. Be careful... text me when you’re home safe?” Scott relents.

“Yes Dad,” Stiles says and hangs up.

He’s not letting Scott or Derek bring him down tonight.

His Dad pops his head into his room just before he leaves for work. The day shift guys had done their time and now Stiles’ dad was taking the graveyard shift with Parish.

Halloween night was one of the most chaotic and busiest of the year for the Sheriff’s department. Stiles won’t see his Dad now until tomorrow afternoon.

He gives Stiles a once over and warns him to be careful.

“Dad, I can more than handle myself,” he shrugs.

“I know Son. I just worry,” The Sheriff gives him a quick manly man hug, “I’d feel better if Derek was with you.”

Stiles chooses to ignore that entirely. His Dad is like a one man Derek fan club lately.

His Dad leaves and Stiles pops in a set of fake vampire fangs.

He buttons up his Dad’s cardigan over his T-shirt that says ‘talk Nerdy to me’, snaps on black braces over his shoulders and pops his thick rimmed, black glasses on to complete his Halloween look.

He’s running with the geek theme seeing as Greg seems to like it so much.

He’s still opted to wear his tightest black skinny jeans, the ones that he knows shows his ass off.

He gives a little wiggle in the mirror and satisfied, he begins the walk downtown to the party. It should only take him ten minutes, but it’s chilly, so he hauls ass and makes it in eight.


When Stiles arrives at the address that Greg has written down on the napkin, he starts to feel quite excited. The party’s being held in what appears to be an old derelict building and Stiles can see it’s been planned very well.

There’s a small line of people waiting to get in and Stiles decides to get in line with everyone else, despite what Greg said about mentioning him on the door. He gets let in a few minutes later and he’s seriously impressed.

It’s in a huge room, what looks to be a disused warehouse and the place is decorated amazingly. Green lights are bouncing off every cobweb covered wall and the place is absolutely packed.

The music’s loud and the dance floor is crowded so Stiles makes his way to the bar where he orders a beer. He sits on a stool feeling a little out of place when he finally spots someone he knows. On the dance floor he can see Danny, with no shirt on. Standard party Danny.

Stiles decides a quick shot of tequila might give him a bit of Dutch courage and he makes his way over to where Danny is dancing with a few friends.

“What are you supposed to be?” Stiles greets him with a slap on the back.

Danny looks genuinely pleased to see him.

“Stiles! Great to see you. Scott told me you were back. Clearly I’m one of the Wolves from Twilight. You know. The guy who doesn’t wear a shirt. It’s obvious. Good to see you man,” Danny is so easy going, Stiles really missed him.

They exchange hugs and for the next hour Stiles loses himself in getting pleasantly buzzed and hanging with Danny and his new friends.

When Stiles checks his watch for about the 100th time, Danny seems to finally have enough.

“Who are you waiting for?” Danny’s dancing in front of him and throws back a test tube shot with something red in it.

Stiles grabs one off the shot girl going past.

“Just... some guy,” Stiles shrugs.

“Hey, good for you,” Danny beams at him, “it’s about time man. I know you’ve been kind of a little hung up on Miguel for a while, but it’s good you’re realising he’s not the only guy on the planet.”

Stiles just gawps at him.

“What?” Danny leans in close and shouts.

“I’m not hung up on Miguel. Derek I mean,” Stiles says, and it doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.

“Sure you are. Before you came back Scott, Lydia and me had a bet on how long it would be before you gave in and told him,” Danny shrugs, grinning menacingly.

“Danny, I don’t like Derek like that,” Stiles’ denial sounds weaker by the second.

Danny narrows his eyes and looks at him shrewdly.

“So how come you haven’t properly allowed any other dude to ‘sex you up’?” Danny asks.

“Oh. My. God. Does the entirety of Beacon Hills know all about my sex life?” Stiles flails.

He does the shot. He can’t take this tonight.

“Nope. Just about your gay sex life,” Danny grins wickedly.

“I don’t have a gay sex life! I don’t have any sex life right now!” Stiles can feel his face go redder and redder. Thank Christ it’s dark.

“That’s because you’re in love with Miguel,” Danny smirks.

Stiles has had enough. He needs some air.

He pushes away from Danny who’s calling apologies after him and he makes his way through the crowd until he can push through a fire exit into the alley outside, grabbing a bottle of water from a bucket at the end of the bar as he goes. There’s no one outside, so when the door clangs open again a minute later, Stiles knows he’s been followed.

Fucking Greg. Stiles just wants to go home. Screw Danny and his righty rightness about everything.

“Hey glasses cutie,” Greg says, “I saw you coming out here! Glad you made it!”

Greg approaches and looks a little glassy eyed. Stiles suspects he’s been enjoying the free bar a little too much.

“Hey Greg. Listen, sorry, I was just going to head out. This was a mistake,” Stiles shakes his head, trying to clear it a little.

Greg looks crestfallen.

“Hey no, stay! I’ll look after you,” Greg says.

Stiles thinks he is probably trying to be sweet but it does the opposite of attracting Stiles.

He’s been conditioned to want grumpy indifference. Packaged in a dark, surly, werewolf body.

“Greg, I’m going to be totally honest with you, I’m really hung up on someone else,” It’s the first time Stiles has admitted it out loud.

He doesn’t know whether it was easier because Greg was a stranger or just because he’s sick of pretending it’s not true anymore.

Either way, it feels good. He feels free.

Greg narrows his eyes and pouts. It’s not the best look on him. He stalks in closer, backing Stiles up against the wall.

Stiles puts a hand on his chest to stop him leaning in any closer.

“It’s the guy from the coffee shop isn’t it?... He’s not going to want you. Guys like that... just... I’m just going to kiss you and maybe you’ll change your mind,” Greg leans in.

“Greg, really, no, it’s not a good idea,” Stiles tries, panicking.

Greg purses his lips and closes his eyes. He looks ridiculous.

Stiles makes an eep of alarm and just when he thinks he might have to physically remove Greg from his space he hears a shockingly low growl.

It’s dangerous. A warning.

Greg stops his advance to look for the source of the noise.

Stiles looks to his left and at the end of the alley, is a wolfed out Derek.

The noise Derek’s making sounds more furious than Stiles has ever heard him and Stiles can see his red eyes burning from where he’s standing.

Greg gives a less than manly shriek.

“Hey, really realistic costume man,” Greg calls out to Derek.

Stiles takes the opportunity to duck out from under Greg’s arm and walks toward Derek.

Greg looks at him like he’s insane, walking towards what he assumes is danger.

Stiles walks right up to Derek who is still standing stock still, wolfed out, staring at Greg, growling.

Derek’s growl gets softer when Stiles is at his side and Stiles leans over so Derek can hear him, but Greg won’t.

“You don’t get to do this to me anymore Der,” Stiles says weakly and it feels horribly final.

Derek stops growling but he still doesn’t look at him. He starts a deep whine instead.

Stiles carries on walking and he doesn’t need to look back to know that Derek won’t have moved a muscle.




Stiles storms into his Dad’s empty house and throws his cardigan on the sofa. He’s fuming. He feels like he’s either going to cry or scream.

He goes for a bit of both and he also eats two snickers bars. He feels a bit more settled.

He paces like when he’s solving a case, laying out facts for himself to make things clearer.

He’s not a virgin by any stretch of the imagination but he’s had a real block in his dating life since Lydia. Especially when it comes to guys.

He knows he’s absolutely gone on Derek. He can’t help himself. He knows Derek’s never going to want him like that but when he moved back here, it was worse than ever.

Derek cooks for him and his Dad. Derek spends his days off chilling at the Stillinski residence. He goes running with Stiles and they go to the movies and go for walks chatting about everything you can possibly think of. They talk about family, work, cases, mythology. For all intents and purposes, Stiles and Derek are dating but without the sexy-fun bits.

Derek doesn’t want the sexy-fun bits. He also doesn’t want Stiles to have the sexy-fun bits with anyone else. Every time Stiles tries to set up a date, or someone flirts with him, Derek always does his best to get in the way. He’s just too damn protective and Stiles has had enough.

The doorbell goes and Stiles puts on his game face for the trick or treaters, grabbing the bowl of candy.

It’s not the local sugared up kiddy’s, it’s worse. It’s Derek.

Derek has his hands shoved in his pockets and he’s wearing a frown that Dr House would be proud of.

Stiles slams the door in his face.

Derek knocks again with no break, just continuous knuckle rapping, until Stiles can’t stand it and opens it again.

Derek pushes straight past him this time into the hallway. Stiles notices he’s wearing the stupid scarf.

“You have no manners. Leave me alone,” Stiles shuts the door and folds his arms.

Derek looks angry and grinds his teeth together.

“If you’re just going to ignore me, you may as well go. You need to realise that just because I am a squishy human member of your pack, it doesn’t mean I can’t have a life. I can take care of myself. I’m going to start dating. We’ve been in each other’s pockets since I’ve been home and it’s not healthy. Look what it’s doing to your pack instincts,” Stiles says.

Derek looks at him like he’s a complete idiot.

“You’re a complete idiot,” Derek growls.

Good to know Stiles is still well versed in deciphering Derek’s facial expressions.

“Don’t talk to me like that. You don’t get to just act like Mr Alpha badass whenever it suits you, controlling me like I’m sixteen again. I can do what I like, see who I like, fuck whoever...” and Stiles doesn’t get to finish that sentence because he’s being shoved back into the door.

His head bangs softly against it and Derek is far too close to him. He can feel his breath on his face.

Stiles licks his lips nervously and the way Derek’s eyes follow the movement makes him feel exposed. Stiles shudders.

He pokes Derek in the chest.

“Bad wolf. Der, I need... I need some space to get... to get over... just to find where I fit now I’m back here for good,” Stiles says.

“I know where you goddamn fit,” Derek growls.

“Well I don’t and I need to explore that a little, whether that’s with Greg or someone else...” Derek cuts him off again, this time with a hand over his mouth.

The anger’s coming off him in waves.

“Just shut up and listen for a minute. You know I’m not... I’m not good with words. I need you in my life. Even as a friend so.... I’ll try to explain because I really don’t think you get it and you keep getting angry with me.” Derek blurts and waits for Stiles to nod before continuing.

“You haven’t picked up on everything I’ve been doing. So here it is. I know you don’t like me. Don’t bite my hand, just listen. You like me as a person but not like I like you. I know that. It’s just been really hard for me because I’ve felt like this for a really long time. You keep letting me get close then you keep flirting with people and setting up dates in front of me. It’s driving me insane. I didn’t even know you liked guys until Scott told me last month, when you came home. Then suddenly everything I’d always felt, everything I wanted felt possible. I can let you have your space. It’s not a pack thing. Stiles, it’s a you and me thing. So when you say you can’t do this anymore, well neither can I. So you might need some time, but so do I. I watched you tonight and you looked so amazing dancing with Danny. Those glasses and jeans, fuck, you’ve got no idea what you look like. I felt like I was going to rip Greg’s arm off when I saw him corner you in that alley. You make me feel out of control. So for me to see you with someone else... yeah, I’m going to need a bit of time too,” Derek finishes and he looks like he’s run a marathon, he’s even breathing hard.

It’s the most Stiles has ever heard him say in one go.

He takes his hand off Stiles’ mouth, which remains open in shock but Derek doesn’t step back out of his space. It’s like they naturally gravitate to each other.

“Derek, you dumbass, I’m fucking in love with you,” Stiles blurts and please let the record show his inappropriately hard dick is probably responsible for that absurdly early declaration of love.

“What.” Derek just stares at him, blinking owlishly.

“You heard me. I thought you didn’t want me!” Stiles isn’t sure if his shrieking is getting through to Derek so he flails his arms for good measure.

Derek’s answer is to grab both his wrists in one of his hands, pin them above his head, crowd him against the door with his body and kiss him hard.

Their first kiss is exactly nothing like Stiles has ever experienced with anyone else, yet it’s exactly what he’d imagined it would be like with Derek.

Derek claims him with his mouth, tongue licking into him when he moans and opens his mouth. It’s incredible, made all the better by the feel of Derek’s hard dick pressing firm into his thigh.

Derek pulls back looking a little stunned.

“Did that feel like I don’t want you?” Derek’s eyes are all pupil and for the first time this evening Stiles sees that he’s not angry anymore. He looks hopeful.

Stiles shakes his head to clear it. It feels like he’s in the best kind of dream.

“Stiles...” Derek’s staring at his mouth again and it makes Stiles lick his lips, “tell me what you want...”

“Not Greg!” Stiles blurts.

“I’m not Greg...” Derek offers.

“No you most certainly are not...” Stiles grins at him.

“Seriously,” Derek lets go of his wrists and he is rubbing circles into Stiles’ hips with his thumbs. He tugs on Stiles’ T shirt a little and when he skims his hands over the bare skin of his sides, Stiles loses it.

“Seriously... Der, I want everything. I’ve never been further than kissing with a guy because every single damn time, I would come to the conclusion they didn’t measure up to you. I’ve been waiting for this since I was sixteen years old. Give. Me. Everything,” Stiles breathes.

And that seems to be good enough for Derek.

Derek kisses down his collar bone and buries his head in his neck, sucking, biting and marking him. When Derek flips the button open on his jeans, Stiles can’t help but palm Derek and wow is he not disappointed. Derek feels huge and huh, guess that confirms one thing for him. Stiles isn’t just into dick, he’s very specifically into Derek’s dick.

Derek whines into his neck and ruts into his hand.

He kisses Stiles again, only breaking to pull Stiles’ T shirt over his head. Derek goes to thumb open his own jeans when a knock at the door makes them both jump.

Stiles runs to the stairs in panic.

“Don’t you dare leave,” Derek hisses at him.

“You answer it seeing as I’m half naked. Get rid of them!” Stiles giggles and runs to safety. He’s out of sight at the top of the stairs.

He sees Derek adjust his jeans and mutter “Shit” as he picks up the candy bowl off the side table and answers the door, staying slightly behind it, shielding himself.

Stiles hears a chorus of “trick or treat” ring out from a few small voices followed by a few kids excitedly exclaiming “Deputy Hale!”

“Treat.” Derek says holding the bowl out. Stiles can hear all the little kids picking out the good stuff.

Then he hears another voice. Its one of the single Moms from down the road. Stiles knows her because literally every time Derek’s on duty she somehow manages to find an excuse to come to the station and flirt with him. His Dad pointed her out once when they were in town.

Stiles’ Dad would tell him about it every time he came home, complaining on the days she visits.

“Maryse was in again today, she brought us Donuts but wouldn’t leave until she saw Derek. I think he was hiding out the back...”

“Damn Maryse came in today to ask if I’d send Derek over to help her cut down a tree in her yard. He’s a deputy for Christ sake, not a tree surgeon.”

Stiles winces when he hears her pipe up.

“Oh! Hi Derek, I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” and Stiles can hear the rotting sweetness in her tone.

“Yep,” Derek replies.

Stiles realises how open Derek is with him when he hears him talking to anyone else.

She is undeterred by Derek’s monosyllabic answers.

“Cool, cool. Do you like my costume? I’m just taking the boys trick or treating, I was going to call over to the station after,” she carries on.

“Sure,” Derek shrugs and Stiles can hear his discomfort.

“So do you maybe want to meet up later tonight? I’m dropping Jack at his Dad’s about 10... Maybe do a little trick or treating of our own?” She drawls.

Eww. Not in front of the kids.

Stiles thinks he’s just about heard enough and decides he’d better rescue him.

“Der... you coming upstairs?” Stiles calls out.

One of the kids speaks next.

“Deputy Hale... who’s that?” One of the kids asks.

Stiles answers, shouting down the stairway.

“It’s Sheriff Stillinski’s son. Stiles. I’m Derek’s boyfriend,” and Stiles pokes his head over the banister so the kids can just see his face.

The kids giggle but Maryse looks homicidal.

“Awesome,” one of the kids says, “well happy Halloween Deputy Hale. Have a nice night with your boyfriend.”

“Thanks kids,” Derek shuts the door and stalks up the stairs.

Stiles is expecting him to be grumpy but he looks kind of smugly satisfied.

“Boyfriend?” Derek asks him, while advancing.

Stiles has never felt more like prey. He backs up walking backwards into his room.

“Sure... I mean, if that’s ok?” Stiles’ knees hit the bed and he sits down.

Derek gets to his own knees as he approaches him and he keeps going until Stiles is forced to part his legs to make room for him.

Stiles’ hands automatically thread into Derek’s hair.

Derek sticks his face into Stiles’ jean clad crotch and takes a deep shuddering breath.

Derek brings his head back and looks up at Stiles from under dark lashes and it catches Stiles’ breath how beautiful he is.

“Fuck, you smell amazing. It’s better than ok. I can’t even explain how much I want you,” Derek looks half crazed.

“So don’t explain. Show me,” Stiles tilts his head back, exposing his neck.

Derek’s breath punches out of him. He stands up and flips Stiles over so he’s face down on the bed. Derek divests him of his jeans and boxers at the same time and Stiles gasps when he feels Derek’s large hands palm his bare cheeks, hard.

Stiles wriggles, groaning, but stills when Derek presses his still clothed body down on Stiles’ lower half, effectively pinning him.

Derek palms his cheeks again and Stiles cries out when he pulls them wider apart, exposing him.

“Christ, Stiles,” Derek says, sounding completely wrecked before Stiles feels a warm, wet swipe across his tight hole.

Stiles grunts and pushes his flaming face down into the bed, fisting the sheets.

Derek eats him like he’s starving, messy, fucking into his hole with his tongue. Stiles loses all sense of time, he needs to come so badly.

Derek adds a finger and then another and by the time Stiles is spit slick and begging for a third, Derek’s growling.

It’s the added vibration that does it and Stiles’ orgasm hits him like a train and he comes hard into the sheets, dick completely untouched.

Derek flips him back over and licks him clean. Stiles’ brain is barely online when he sees Derek remove his own clothes.

He takes a second to just take him in and Derek stills, standing, letting him look.

He knows this is Stiles’ first experience with a guy and he is in no mood to rush him, no matter how desperate Stiles is making him feel.

Stiles drags his eyes over him. He’s always appreciated the fact that Derek has a fantastic body but seeing the dark hair roaming from his chest, over his toned stomach down his happy trail and over his powerful thighs, Stiles’ mouth actually waters.

Stiles’ eyes catch on his impressive dick and it’s thick, long and leaking pre-come where it stands solid against his stomach.

“Please fuck my mouth,” Stiles begs and Derek clenches his hands into his thighs, as if he needs to physically restrain himself.

“Shit. You can’t say things like that to me Stiles. I’m finding it hard to stay in control as it is. I’ve never, ever wanted anyone as bad as I want you right now. You’ve no idea,” Derek’s talking around slightly too pointy teeth.

“Then don’t. Don’t be in control. I know you won’t hurt me. Come on Der. I’m not a virgin, I just haven’t been fucked. Let the wolf out if you need to. Show me. You know I want every part of you. Give it to me,” Stiles lets his mouth run.

His answer is Derek literally crawling up his body caging him in.

“I knew you’d be into literally everything. I thought about it you know. Where and how I’d fuck you,” Derek growls and it seems all bets are off.

“You know me... geek on the streets, freak in the...” Stiles laughs, but he’s cut off because Derek doesn’t stop crawling until he’s sitting gloriously naked on Stiles’ chest.

Stiles is mesmerised by the giant dick in his face.

He licks his lips.

Derek, eyes never leaving his, palms the back of his head, tilting him forward slightly.

He nudges his dick against Stiles’ pink lips and whines deep when Stiles tastes his head for the first time.

Stiles has seen a lot of porn, he knows what to do from here. He opens his mouth as wide as he can and Derek takes the invite by feeding his dick between his lips.

Derek looks like he’s literally restraining himself so Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands.

He trails his hands lightly down over Derek’s bare ass and then he digs his nails into his flesh roughly.

Derek bucks forward and it has the desired effect of ramming Derek’s dick further down his throat.

Derek’s eyes bleed red and with Stiles’ hands encouraging him, he begins to fuck Stiles’ mouth.

“Oh god, I knew you’d be made for this,” Derek has suddenly found his voice again.

Stiles’ eyes water but he won’t let Derek pull back. He’s addicted to this already.

“I have no right to be but I’m so fucking pleased that you’ve never done this with anyone else,” Derek throws his head back.

Stiles swallows around him when Derek nudges the back of his throat.

“Shit. I’m going to come. Stiles,” Derek groans like he’s dying.

Stiles answers by pressing a finger against Derek’s dry hole and Derek fucks hard into his mouth. Stiles relaxes because Derek is right down his throat. He swallows around him.

Nailed it.

Derek literally howls as he comes and keeps rocking his hips back and forth until he collapses next to Stiles.

He pulls Stiles in against him and throws a leg possessively over him, stroking his stomach and playing with the hair under his navel.

Stiles is hard again in seconds.

“Der...” Stiles mutters.

“Mmm,” Derek hums and Stiles loves hearing him so relaxed.

“Can I do something?” Stiles asks, excited by this whole new world open to him.

“You want to fuck me?” Derek asks, mouth soft against the skin on Stiles’ shoulder.

“No... but I didn’t realise that was an option,” Stiles stares at him in awe.

“Anything’s an option for you. I’d give you anything,” Derek says quietly, honestly.

Stiles nudges himself out from under him despite Derek’s protesting grumble and pushes Derek so he’s propped up on the pillows, laying on his back.

Stiles settles himself down between his legs and Derek’s dick gives an interested twitch at the sight he makes.

“Can I?” Stiles asks smiling at him.

Derek doesn’t even know what he wants but it doesn’t really matter.

“You can do anything you want. I trust you,” Derek shrugs again and closes his eyes. He rests his head back on the pillows.

Derek doesn’t think he’s ever felt so relaxed and happy during sex. It’s never been like this with anyone else.

He thinks Stiles is going to suck his rapidly hardening dick, so when he feels Stiles suck one of his balls into his mouth, his eyes shoot open and he grabs Stiles’ head.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow at him questioning and Derek relaxes again and nods.

What follows is a positively sexual revelation for Derek. Stiles sucks and nips at his balls, rolling them in his mouth, until Derek’s nearly crying with the need for a hand on his dick.

Derek goes to touch himself, but Stiles stops what he’s doing much to Derek’s dismay.

“Ah Ah Ah,” Stiles tuts, reaching for the side of the bed.

He grabs what Derek recognises as his own scarf. Stiles scoots up Derek’s body and takes hold of both his hands and holds them above his head, mirroring what Derek had done to him earlier.

Derek’s eyes stay red this time. He’s panting shallowly.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” Stiles looks totally at ease and Derek’s got no idea how he’s got so lucky.

Derek nods.

Stiles wraps the scarf around his wrists and ties him tightly to the bed frame, hands above his head.

Derek could easily break out of it but he’s not moving, restrained as sure as if he was bound by wolfsbane rope.

Nothing inside him wants to get out of it.

Stiles reaches in his bedside drawer and Derek sees he’s taken out a bottle of lube. Stiles turns around so he’s on all fours, ass practically in Derek’s face.

Derek grunts and tries to push his dick up toward Stiles’ face. It’s still untouched and he thinks it could probably drill for oil with how hard he is.

Instead, Stiles, completely unabashedly, reaches around himself and pushes two fingers straight into his own hole.

Derek’s face is inches from him and he has a perfect view of where Stiles’ tight, pink hole is swallowing his fingers, already loose from where Derek licked him open earlier.

Derek can smell himself there already and he has never wanted to fuck anyone quite as badly. Claim anyone quite as badly. The fact that he’s restrained is making him all the more desperate.

“You know if anyone so much as even tries to say hello to you in the street after tonight, let alone buy you a fucking muffin?...” he growls at Stiles, who adds finger number three with a grunt.

“I’ll make them watch as I fuck you and I’ll come all over you. You’re mine,” Derek’s deepest urge punches out of him and he cringes because he hopes it isn’t too far for Stiles.

Stiles stand up frantically and he slicks Derek’s dick with the same hand that had been inside him.

Apparently, it’s just far enough.

Derek shifts, fangs dropping at Stiles’ first touch of his dick. Derek’s barely in control, he couldn’t stop the shift if he tried. The bed frame creaks as he tugs on the scarf, he’s considering breaking it.

He’s spared from making that decision by Stiles sitting and leaning down onto him, pressing his ass back toward his dick.

When his dick catches on Stiles’ hole they both cry out and that’s the end of Derek’s patience.

Derek snaps the bed frame in half, scarf dangling off one wrist and he grabs Stiles’ ass, sitting up and pushing into him, firm but slow. It’s tight, so tight and Stiles grunts but finally he’s fully inside him. Stiles’ hole clenches around him and Derek groans.

He forces himself to still, and not to just fuck in and out of him. To not ruin him, even though he wants to.

He will never, ever hurt him.

Stiles clutches his shoulders and kisses him softly, wriggling on his lap until Derek’s losing his mind.

“Are you going to move?” Stiles murmurs to him.

Derek buries his head into his neck. He doesn’t smell like pain. Just happiness and arousal. He smells like home.

Derek bites down lightly and Stiles whines.

“To tell you the truth, you feel so fucking tight, I’m trying not to come,” Derek grunts against his skin.

Stiles’ laugh and accompanying smile makes Derek suddenly understand what Shakespeare was rambling on about.

“Well... if you do, I’ll let you do it again,” Stiles laughs and pushes himself up and drops back down onto Derek’s dick.

Derek takes the hint and proceeds to plant his feet and lift Stiles up his dick and drag him back down it, faster and faster, until Stiles has to grab onto the broken headboard for balance.

Derek can feel his balls tighten and he’s surprised that he’s lasted this long with how good Stiles feels around him.

He feels around his cock for where he’s fucking in and out of Stiles’ stretched hole and pushes the tip of his finger in alongside.

Stiles’ eyes shoot open and he bites Derek’s shoulder, hard.

Derek just manages to get a hand on Stiles’ long, cut dick and Stiles’ cum hitting him in the chin, the smell of him, rips Derek’s orgasm from him.

He pushes into him deep as he can and Stiles’ hole grips his dick like a vice because he’s still coming himself. Derek literally howls as he empties himself into Stiles and he could die happy tomorrow, because he doesn’t think he could ever feel this good again.

They rock against each other, making no move to separate for what feels like minutes, but could be hours.

When they finally break, they shower together and it’s quiet and intimate.

They don’t speak, but Derek’s never felt closer to anyone in his life. They clean each other, giggling softly and Derek pins him against the tiles and kisses him until the water runs cold.

When they’re both tucked back in bed, Derek pulls Stiles to him.

“Secret cuddler Wolf... knew it,” Stiles mutters happily.

“Shut up Stiles,” Derek mutters into his neck.

“Oh here we go, back to bossing me about and burying your feelings is it?” Stiles tone is jokey, but Derek doesn’t like the implication.

He pushes himself up and moves Stiles onto his back and lays down on top of him, being careful not to crush him.

Stiles is a similar height now, so he doesn’t try to be too careful.

“I love you too,” Derek tells him and gives him a quick kiss, watching for his reaction.

Stiles beams at him.

“Most delayed reaction ever,” Stiles smiles shyly.

Derek can’t believe it’s so perfect with him.

“Happy Halloween Stiles,” Derek nuzzles back into his neck and feels sleep tugging at him.

“Happy Halloween Der. Best holiday ever!” Stiles strokes his hair.


“Oh my god, my fricking eyes, my eyes!!!” Derek wakes to Scott’s hysterical voice and he doesn’t know whether he should be worried he didn’t hear him or happy he was relaxed enough to sleep that deeply around Stiles.

Stiles is sitting up, hand outstretched to Scott, shielding himself with the sheet, leaving Derek fully exposed, naked in all his glory. He’s quite glad he’d rolled onto his stomach in his sleep, chivalry is clearly dead.

“Scott,” Derek grunts a greeting and puts a pillow over his head.

Scott grabs the nearest garment to cover his face with.

“Derek! I can’t believe you... Stiles I told you, I tried to tell you but I didn’t mean jump straight into bed with him! I thought you were just going on a date with Greg? Derek, he wasn’t ready for Man penis yet!” Stiles snorts loudly at his best friend trying to defend his virtue or whatever the hell this is.

“Scott it’s fine. Derek was a perfect gentlemen. Sort of. Well, as much as I was. And I was definitely ready for Derek’s Penis. Can you leave, this is so awkward?” Stiles waves toward the open window.

“Then why’s the headboard cracked hmm, if he was a gentleman?” Scott waves toward the wardrobe, unable to see where he’s pointing.

“Scott I’m serious, please go,” Stiles starts to sound annoyed and that’s what motivates Derek.

Derek gets up, not caring he’s naked, completely comfortable nude as a born wolf and he approaches Scott.

He pulls what he now recognises as his scarf off Scott’s head.

“Scott. Go. Away.” Derek punctuates his words with a growl and gives him a little shove toward the window.

“Argh, a dick!” Scott shouts and covers his eyes with his hands.

“Christ, he’s actually five,” Derek sighs and walks back to the bed.

“Scotty, I love you, go home, I’ll call you later,” Stiles pleads.

Scott looks angrily back at them as he climbs out the window.

As soon as Scott’s out of sight range, Derek grabs Stiles and pulls him under the sheet kissing him good morning.

He ghosts his fingers around Stiles’ hole and it’s wet where his come is still steadily leaking out of him. Stiles gives a guttural groan and Derek bites his lip.

“Der, I know it’s not Halloween anymore but can you do that freaky thing with your tongue and fingers again?” Stiles whispers, rutting his dick against him.

Even Stiles’ human ears hear Scott shouting up toward his open window. It’s fading, as if he’s running away at speed.

He’s chanting, repeating,

“NOT YET, NOT YET, please god NOT YET!”

Derek laughs harder than he can ever remember and it feels good. He buries his smile in Stiles’ neck again, inhaling. Stiles smells happier than he’s smelled since Derek’s met him. Derek likes it a lot.

Happy Halloween indeed.