Sterek One Shots

Stiles had never knocked on the front door of the Hale house in all the months that he had known Derek Hale. Derek always left the door unlocked when he was home and he had never yet protested about Stiles’ presence there. The house was quiet, dark, almost a horror story waiting to happen and it made Stiles uncomfortable. He moved into the side lounge slowly, he tried to calm his pulse, knowing Derek would probably find some kind of amusement at the fact Stiles was scared here. Derek was sat on one of the sofas, staring into nothing. The hairs on the back of Stiles’ neck stood up, this really was starting to look like the scenes from a horror movie.

“D…derek?”

He got no response from the alpha, so he moved over and lowered himself down next to him, placing a shaking hand onto Derek’s shoulder. Everything else happened so fast, every time Stiles thinks about it now he gets goose bumps. Derek spun round with a growl, his eyes glowing red. He pinned the frail human down onto the sofa and pressed their lips together forcefully.

When it was over he barked three words that still sent chills through Stiles’ body, “You’re mine now.”

Stiles hadn’t refused the alpha, in fact he had been strangely glad of the fact. He had been in love with Derek -secretly- for months, and he hadn’t seen anything wrong with being Derek’s. Stiles had supposed the way Derek asked him out was an alpha thing, possessive…it had sent butterflies through his abdomen. Now he thinks of that night, and he knows that Derek had been thinking of her. Derek had been fighting with his own memories. Derek didn’t want Stiles that night, he wanted her. Stiles knows that Derek was thinking about her, not him, never him.

Stiles had never met her. He’d asked people who had what she was like - before everything changed. She was graceful, beautiful, funny and sweet. Derek had fallen in love with her almost straight away. Derek hadn’t fallen in love with Stiles straight away, Stiles was more than sure of that.

Derek had taken her to the beach once, a few weeks after they met. She ran in the sand, the wind blowing through her silky, beautiful hair. She giggled quietly and Derek chased after her slowly, giving her a fair chance. She stopped running, a warm, kind smile across her face. Derek never expected her to stop, he slammed into her, sending them both into the sand. They laughed about it for almost five minutes before they calmed down enough to kiss. Her lips were soft, tasted of strawberry. They sent fireworks off in Derek’s head.

Stiles asked Derek to take him to the beach, he loved feeling the sand between his toes. Derek seemed down as usual, he forced a smile and Stiles knew it wasn’t real. He’d only seen the alpha let his guard down and give a genuine smile once. He would have given anything to see it again. Stiles ran to the sea, he was laughing, being loud, playing the clown to hide how much Derek was breaking him. His foot sunk into the sand as he turned mid-run to see if Derek was following him, he slipped and fell flat on his back. Nobody came to see if he was okay, to help him up. Stiles sat up and stared over at Derek. The older man was staring out to sea, looking lost, looking broken. Stiles knew he was thinking of her. His heart broke even more.

When Derek kissed Stiles it was always passionate, always rough. He only ever done it in his bedroom or on the sofa where they had shared their first kiss. Never in front of the pack. Never in public.

It had dawned on Stiles that the pack had no idea he was Derek’s. They could smell his scent in the house, on Derek’s clothes, but he was around so often. He helped Derek with cooking, cleaning, keeping an eye on the pack like some kind of woman. It had never been considered that he was with Derek, that he was his boyfriend…if that’s what he was. Nowadays Stiles’ wasn’t too sure that he was Derek’s boyfriend back then.

When they kissed Stiles’ stomach would churn, he could never enjoy it, he knew Derek wasn’t imagining his cinnamon tasting lips, he was imagining all the kisses he had shared with her. Why else would he ever have kissed Stiles?

Derek was standing in his bedroom. His fingertips were tracing old memories from another time, another life. He was happy then. His family were all here, all around him, he loved them, they loved him. He loved her. Stiles wished that he could have met Derek’s family properly, he was young when they died, his memory of them wasn’t that great. He can remember Derek’s mom, she was beautiful, tanned, kind. He stood at the bedroom door trying to hold back tears as best as he could, Derek was choosing to ignore him, he could hear his breathing, his heartbeat. Stiles knew that all Derek could think about was her, how she made him feel, how they spent their days, what she done to him. He knew he was just a consolation price, he was just there to pick up the pieces she left behind, it didn’t matter that he was the one there for Derek now.

Stiles was cleaning up for Derek while he was out with the pack. The house was big, easy to get dusty and dirty looking if not maintained, and Stiles was happy enough to do it for Derek. He hoped that one day Derek would look at him and not see her shadow, but see him, Stiles, the one there for him through everything. He moved over to the barely used television and bent down to dust its wooden stand. Something fell, he leant over and picked it up.

Derek, young, smiling the biggest, most genuine grin Stiles had ever seen. It took the air out of his lungs seeing Derek this happy. Beside him was a young woman, pretty, thin, a strange, unnerving glint in her eyes. She had control over Derek and she knew it.

The young boy stared at the photograph for almost an hour, tears spilling out of his eyes like torrential rain. All he wanted was to make Derek smile like that, all he wanted was for Derek to love him, to need him. He finally composed himself, dried his eyes and continued cleaning, knowing that the pack would be home soon. He didn’t want the pack to see him crying. One day Stiles’ had heard them talking, they were worried, said Stiles’ seemed unhappy, miserable in fact. Derek had snapped at them, told them he was fine, because Derek was blind, he believed his own words. Stiles had put on a face and entered the room, acting happy, acting like his old self. The pack never fell for it. Derek did.

Derek would help his mom cook for his family. When she came over after school she would help them too. It was always messy, always fun. She would make him laugh with stupid jokes that weren’t all that funny, he’d get sauce on her face, she’s cover him in flour. His mom would never shout at them, she’d laugh and tell them to clean up. He was in love with her, he just knew he was.

Stiles cooked dinner for Derek most nights, and when they were home he would cook for the pack too. When he cooked for Derek he was always alone. Singing quietly to himself. That night he plated up the food and sat it on the table, turning and shouting for Derek. The alpha looked stressed and tired as he entered the room. For a long time he just sat there, staring at the plate in front of him, with no intention of actually eating.

“Derek, eat?”

Derek wasn’t hungry. He growled at Stiles, his eyes flashing red as he grabbed the plate and smashed it against the wall. Stiles flinched but kept still, his hands shaking, his knees growing weak. Derek rose to his feet, grabbing the edge of the table and throwing it over, orange juice soaking the floor, glass flying everywhere. Stiles felt numb as he stared at Derek, ignoring the pain in his arm from where glass had cut into his skin.

“You aren’t Kate! Stop trying to be Kate. You’ll never be her! I’ll never love you, get that through your thick head!” he growled before turning and leaving the room.

Stiles stared at the mess, he kept strong, refusing to cry while Derek could hear him. He pulled the glass from his arm, shoving a cloth to the small wound and pressing into it. He spent that night cleaning up the kitchen, throwing the remains of the glass table next to the bins out the side of the house. He never cried. He would never cry in front of Derek. Never.

Derek leant over to kiss her. She pushed him away. She smiled, like it was all a joke. His heart missed a beat, pain showing on his face. He was so vulnerable in front of her. Never again. She had been acting really strange recently, distant. She would look at his house, at his family and the look on her face gave him goose bumps. She lied to him all the time, he could hear it in her heartbeat. His parents started to sense something, they wouldn’t tell him what, but they told him to keep her away. She told him to make sure he was at school on monday. He thought nothing of it.

On Monday he gets pulled from class, Laura is there too. The principal looks glum. He doesn’t understand what is happening. That morning his family burned to death, everyone except his uncle Peter. A horrible, dark depression slips over him. He can’t cope with the thought of never seeing his parents again, his siblings, cousins, grand-parents. Everyone gone. His uncle a shell of the magnificent person he once was. All he has is Laura.

Kate. Her name was Kate; the girl he loved. She left town on the Monday night. Laura took him away after the funerals, she had said they had no place in Beacon Hills now. It was safer to disappear.

He knows deep down it was Kate, but he can’t handle the truth of it. Even now when he had Stiles, he couldn’t handle any of this. He knew the deaths were all his fault. He knew she was a murder, an evil bitch. So why couldn’t he get her out of his head? All the old memories…the good ones. Stiles’ tries to help him, to pick him up, to clear his mind. Stiles loves him. He knew that. That is all that he knew.

A horrible anger seared through Derek as it had down in the kitchen only hours before. Everything in his reach was thrown, smashed, crashed. All broken. Broken just like he was, broken just like his life was, just like his past was. Stiles came into the room, his hands were shaking, his face was pale. Derek could sense his fear, but there’s more, so much more. He was broken too, he was miserable, he was depressed and lonely and he needed someone.

Derek realised that he couldn’t remember the last time he saw Stiles smile. A real smile, not faked, not forced, not a front. Stiles was strong, Stiles was brave. He had always been brave, always been strong, for as long as Derek had known him. He had to be. He was the human in a pack of werewolves, his life was at more danger than theirs, he had more to lose, more to deal with; a sick dad, his mother’s death, ADHD, school, Derek. He should have snapped months ago, but he was strong. So strong. He had been looking after Derek for so long, and now it was Derek’s turn to look after him.

The alpha shrunk to the ground, body shaking. He was letting himself be vulnerable, letting the tears out. Stiles’ mouth gaped, he looked scared, confused, had no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry” Derek said, sounding like a wounded pup.

It broke Stiles heart even more. He moved over, slotted himself into Derek’s arms. They had never held each other like this. It was always physical, always passionate. Never real. Derek took Stiles’ cheeks in his hands, Stiles broke down in his embrace and cried. He cried in front of Derek…and he was almost glad of it. Derek leant forward, he kissed him. Soft, light. No passion, just soft. He had never kissed Kate like that. Stiles stared up at him, confused, all air escaping him.

“I love you, Stiles.” Derek whispered, pulling the younger boy closer so that he could rest his head on his alpha’s shoulders “I’m yours now.”