Sterek One Shots

Tired wasn’t the right word to describe how Stiles felt right now. Physically and emotionally exhausted had a better ring to it. It was hardly surprising that he couldn’t sleep well lately, what with all the hassle they had had with the Kanima, and all the shit going on with his father -Guilty wasn’t a strong enough word- After Lacrosse practice he showered in silence, fighting to keep his eyes open. Scott and Isaac stood at the lockers, talking in hushed tones. Stiles dragged his feet over to the two, resting his weight on his locker.

“Stiles, we were thinking, maybe you should just go home and sleep.”

Stiles shook his head “I’m meant to be making the pack dinner…and driving you home, and I’ve got an essay due.”

Scott frowned, putting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder “Stiles, you’re not Derek’s wife. He should be able to feed his pack alone. And you don’t always have to come to training just to drive me home.”

Stiles shrugged, his eyes drooping as he opened his locker and threw on a shirt, “Get’s me away from the house…and I’m pretty sure Isaac was sick of eating Rabbit,” Isaac couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Scott let out an aggravated sigh, “Fine I won’t cook, but I’m still coming to training.”

Scott saw no point in starting an argument with his best friend, Stiles was an incredibly stubborn person, there was no way Scott would win. Once dressed they all headed out to the jeep. Stiles unlocked the driver side door and made to climb in, Scott placed a hand on his chest to hold him back.

“No offense Stiles, but I really don’t want to die…”

It became clear that Scott driving was a good idea halfway through the journey when Stiles’ head dropped to the side, his breathing heavy.
—-
The jeep stopped outside the old subway, Scott grabbed the keys from the ignition and climbed out, Isaac got out the back seat and lifted up Stiles, they locked up the car and went inside. Isaac placed Stiles down carefully on one of the old, torn seats in the subway cart, positioning the shorter lad so that he could use Isaac’s long legs as a pillow. Scott sat down opposite Erica, and they soon began a discussion on where they could get food so that Derek wouldn’t go crazy. This discussion led to Scott leaving the hideout to steal food from his kitchen.
—-
Derek returned before Scott did. He walked into the wrecked train and stopped abruptly when he noticed Stiles, “What is he doing here this early?”

“He’s exhausted, Scott’s gone to go find food at his house,” Isaac explained, a hand resting on Stiles’ shoulder protectively.

Erica crossed her legs over, staring Derek straight in the eye with a confidence Derek didn’t like “He needs to sleep…” Her gaze faltered as Derek glared at her as if he were seconds from ripping her throat out, her voice cracked and what was supposed to be a demand turned into a question, “Let him sleep?”

Derek growled and stormed out of the cart. It had been a really bad week and he was more aggravated than usual. His pack were very quick to protect Stiles’ sleep patterns against their alpha’s temper, they respected Stiles because he was kind -most of the time- and brave, he looked after them even though he was just a weak human. This pissed Derek off even more, not only did he dislike Stiles (or at least ‘acted’ as if he did), but his pack were a lot more attached to Stiles than their own alpha…yes his pack obeyed his orders, but this was through fear, he didn’t think it very likely that his pack actually enjoyed his company.

Scott appeared moments later with matches, frozen meat and some other assorted rubbish. He looked at Derek’s frown and gave an innocent smile in return “I brought a pan…!”

Derek snatched the pan, very tempted to smack Scott on the back of the head with it…of course that would be way too comical for Derek. He shook his head and walked away, muttering about not having a cooker, how big an idiot Scott was and how much he’d love to lock him in a room with Jackson.
—-
It took almost two hours, a lot of swearing and a small bonfire before Derek announced that they could eat through clenched teeth. He dumped the very burnt food onto the ‘make-shift’ plates Scott had ‘borrowed’ from his kitchen cupboards and thrust them into his pack’s hands. Not a single face looked thankful. Derek sat alone, stubbornly eating the food as if it was the best tasting thing he’d ever had while his pack picked at the food, forcing it into their mouths. It was his own fault for scheduling training straight after school; teenagers need food, even the werewolves.
—-
After a pretty good training session Derek went back inside the cart, leaving Scott to give the three newest Beta’s a run for their money. He moved over to the still sleeping Stiles and grabbed onto the neck of his shirt, pulling him up so that he was standing. Stiles woke with a start, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.

“What the…?”

“The terms of our ‘deal’ stated that you would get what you wanted if you helped with the pack…cooking is not something I appreciate doing for a group of arrogant teenagers” Derek growled, his face horrifying close to Stiles’.

“I-sorry I was really tired…and Scott said-I mean…he didn’t say anything…it was my idea to…not cook” he swallowed loudly, badly stuttering his words, staring at Derek as if he were some kind of ghost.

Derek let go of Stiles’ shirt, letting him gain his footing and compose himself. The werewolf still looked angry and he took a step back.

“Don’t let it happen again, or I swear to god I’ll break your teeth.”

“I’m pretty attached to my teeth…” Stiles’ frowned, making to scurry past Derek and leave the subway cart.

Derek, however, had other ideas. He shoved Stiles’ chest harshly so that he slammed against the side wall of the train. Stiles’ groaned in pain as his head hit against the metal. Derek moved dangerously close again, Stiles’ shut his eyes tight, expecting another empty threat or some kind of actual physical pain. What he got was entirely different. Derek crashed his lips against Stiles’ in a state of pure anger and aggression. Stiles’ whimpered in shock but clumsily kissed back, Derek’s rough stubble scratching against his own smooth skin like sandpaper. His first kiss probably wasn’t meant to be this forceful…or painful, but he’d take it. His hands shook as he reached up, grabbing Derek’s upper arm.

Derek pulled away looking slightly less annoyed but still his usual brooding self, “As much as I hate to admit it…my pack need you,” he said in a husky voice before stepping out of the broken down train.

Stiles watched him leave, his mouth hanging open in utter disbelief, “that was…unexpected” he mumbled to himself, hands still shaking.