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To be quite honest, Derek wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing in the woods with this particular group of people.
Today was Saturday and Saturday usually meant fucking around in his living room until Cora annoyed him, and then going out to the town with his teammates unless there was a match. If there was a match, he’d spend the day fucking around alone and psyching himself for it as well as trying to calm his teammates around.
Point was, in no realm of fantasy should he be in the middle of the Preserve, miles away from his home or any form of civilisation with some of the school’s cheerleader and lacrosse players. There was no reason for lacrosse players and basketball players to be around each other.
He turned to glare at the reason he was there instead of back at home with a bag of crisps and Netflix. “Why am I here?”
Erica - one of his best friends and one of the flyers for the cheerleading squad - grinned at him. “I promised Lydia I’d bring some basketball players, and you three are the only basketball players I’m friends with.”
Derek turned to Boyd and Isaac, both of whom didn’t seem particularly perturbed by finding themselves in the middle of nowhere with basically their sworn enemies.
Jackson Whittemore, co-captain of the lacrosse team and pain in Derek’s ass turned to sneer at him. “What, Hale, are you too cool to set up tents like the rest of us? Or maybe, you don’t know how?”
The other opened his mouth to say something back to him, but before he could, Lydia stepped up, smacking him loudly in the shoulder. “Jackson!” she hissed, eyes hard.
Her boyfriend scoffed. “I just don’t understand why the basketball players,” and you’d think the word was a slur from the way he said it, “are here. You said this was a de-stressing outing or whatever. And yet, here they are.”
Lydia crossed her arms across her chest, clearly unhappy with her boyfriend. “Coach Finstock has threatened to fail you,” she turned to Derek, Isaac and Boyd, “ all of you, if you don’t manage to get along. He says he’s tired of having you guys’ hatred - well he calls it hatred, I call it dick measuring contest - distract the class, and most teachers agree. And since I’m the captain of the cheerleading squad, which is Switzerland for both teams, apparently it’s my job making sure that you guys find a middle ground or something. Hence,” she made a vague gesture to the tents Jackson, Danny, Aiden and Ethan were working on, “camping.”
“What I don’t understand is why,” called a voice, walking in the clearing with two other people, “ I have to be here.”
“Like hell I’m going to be the only one here dealing with this manchildren, Stilinski. If I go down, you go down right with me,” she said, but Derek wasn’t listening to her anymore.
Instead he was watching staring at the pouting brunet that had just arrived.
Stiles Stilinski.
AKA the source of his pining since freshman year.
Stiles Stilinski was 160 pounds of golden eyes, fair skin, mole dotted face, upturned nose, pink lips, nimb fingers, long eyelashes, quick wit and sarcasm. He was funny and sharp, clumsy when he walked around in his plaid and graphic shirts and yet quick footed and oozing with sexiness whenever he was flying around during a cheer routine, a genius when he managed to concentrate on what he was asked and a menace if left unsupervised in a lab for too long - a mistake Mr. Harris paid dearly for. His eyebrow was never the same again.
Point is Stiles was the prettiest boy in the school, his brain was equally as fascinating and Derek was gone on him.
“Close your mouth, you’re drooling,” whispered Erica, and Derek snapped his mouth shut, ears turning red.
Stiles turned around at that moment, mouth turning in a oh when he noticed Derek was there. Then he smiled, white teeth gleaming in the sun, as he waved. “Derek! Hey.”
“Hi,” he managed, hoping against hoping that his face remained blank. He was in his senior year, he had no business still floundering and getting shy just because Stiles acknowledged him.
Stiles’ smile wavered for a second, and he opened his mouth to say something, but the guy he had come with - Scott McCall, other co-captain of the lacrosse team and Stiles’ best friend - pulled him along with him, shooting a quick glare in Derek’s direction.
“Lydia why are we here?” he asked, still looking suspicious in Derek, Isaac and Boyd’s direction.
The red head was now sitting under the shade of a tree, Allison - who must have gotten there with Stiles - sitting next to her. “ Paganini non ripete ,” she quoted in perfect Italian.
“Paganini doesn’t repeat,” translated Derek, feeling a surge of pride when Lydia arched a satisfied eyebrow in his direction and Stiles’ eyes went wide.
“You speak Italian? Dude, you need to teach me!”
“I’m already teaching you Hawaiian, tho. Are you language cheating on me, Stilinski?” asked Danny and.
Fuck.
The very reason why Derek was having such a hard time approaching/asking out Stiles. Danny fucking Mahealani.
Danny Mahealani was not a bad person. In fact, as far as lacrosse players went, he was a very nice person to be around. He never participated in the snark and insult matches between basketball and lacrosse players, was the first to intervene if an altercation devolved in a fist match, and while he didn’t go out of his way to socialise with basketball players, he didn’t sneer at them or complain when they had to work together.
In short, everyone liked Danny.
And lately, it was like Stiles in particular liked Danny, which made Derek want to punch the lacrosse goalie just a little bit .
Case in point,
“I’d never cheat on you , Danny,” told him the brunet, fluttering his eyelashes at him. “You’re my language main hoe!” Then he turned to Derek and gave him a very exaggerated wink.
Erica snort laughed next to him, but from the way Stiles’ expression fell a bit, Derek’s returning smile was even faker than it felt on his face.
“If everyone is done flirting,” snapped Jackson, glaring at the cheerleader, “the tents won’t build themselves.”
Stiles smirk immediately returned to his face, “Do you want me to flirt with you too, Jackie?”
“Don’t call me Jackie,” almost growled Jackson, while Scott muttered “Gross,” next to him.
Stiles sniffed, planting himself on the ground between Allison and Lydia. “I am simply too pretty to join in you guys’ menial tasks. I’ll just seated right here,”
“I’m pretty too!” immediately said Scott, looking at the objects around with a little pout.
Stiles made a face at that, and Derek could only agree. He didn’t hold a candle to Stiles’ face.
“Sure, you can sit with us, while we ogle all the beautiful men working on the tents shirtless,” told him Allison, blinking innocently. “You can help us pick who’s the hottest man around and everything.”
Derek could literally see the moment the idea of Allison checking out other dudes entered Scott’s head, and he paled slightly. Then he pulled off his shirt in one fluid gesture, before clicking his fingers at her and winking. “Keep your eyes on me.”
Allison dimpled, calling out “Ten out of ten, would bang again .”
Stiles made a noise next to her, but Scott just grinned, throwing her a kiss before moving towards Ethan - another lacrosse player - was setting up the tent. But he stopped immediately when Lydia whistled loudly.
Everyone in the clearing turned to her, confused, and she stared them down with a glare and both hands on her hips. “No way. We came here because we are supposed to bond . So no, you don’t get to just buddy up with your usual friends.”
“Lydia,” started Jackson, immediately shutting his mouth when she levelled him with a glare.
“There is four tents and four lacrosse players: one of you for each,” she started, then her eyes snapped to the basketball players and Aiden, another one of the cheerleader. “Aiden with Jackson, tall dark and handsome with Ethan, blondie with Scott, and captain with Danny.” Then she clapped her hands, “Chop chop.”
Boyd blinked at her for a second, a little amused. “Tall dark and handsome?”
The red haired girl shrugged. “That’s what Stiles and Erica referred to you before she finally got the guts to ask you out.” She said, easily.
Erica groaned, putting a hand to her face, while Boyd grinned, very much pleased.
“You’re a menace, Martin,”
“Whatever, Reyes.”
Derek moved to his assigned tent, giving Danny a tight lipped smile. “Hey,”
The other smiled sunnily at him, like he and Derek were friends or something. Derek hated how hard Danny made it to hate him. It was like a curse or something.
“Ever built a tent?” asked him the other guy, picking up some of the tools from the floor.
“Not really. My sister is the camper, not me,” explained Derek, staring at the various objects scattered on the floor a little lost.
“Don’t worry about it,” Danny was quick to reassure him, “back in middle school, me, Jackson, Stiles and Scott used to do it all the time. I know,” he laughed at the shocked expression on Derek’s face. “Not the kind of group you’d imagine hanging out together.”
Not really, no. Back in freshman year, before Stiles joined the cheer squad, him and Scott had been nobodies. Jackson didn’t really pay attention to them if it wasn’t to make fun of them or something. And Danny was Jackson’s best friend.
“At the end of the day, we grew up together,” continued Danny. “We might have different likes and stuff, but we went to the same nursery, same elementary, same middle school and now we’re in the same High School. And,” he came closer now, whispering the words to him. “He won’t ever admit it, but Jackson genuinely cares about both of them. And they about him.”
“Put your shirt back on Whittemore, we don’t want to see that shit!” shouted Stiles then, almost to prove him wrong.
“Eat shit, Stilinski!” barked back the blond, not even looking up at him.
Derek made a face and Danny laughed. “Deep deep down.”
He turned his attention to the rest of the duos around.
Aiden and Jackson seemed to be working pretty well together, despite the fact that everyone knew that the reason Aiden joined the cheering squad was that he had a crush on Lydia and wanted to impress her by breaking normal societal gender roles. That was years ago, though, and Aiden was a pretty solid cheerleader now, so they were all over it by now.
Boyd and Ethan were also working together all right. Boyd had never been a man of many words, and Ethan didn’t seem particularly bothered by that. Both of them seemed to have an idea of what they were doing, and they stayed out of each other’s way for the majority of it.
Isaac and Scott, though. They were laughing at each other like two long lost best friends. They bounced and joked off each other - not on Stiles&Scott level - very well, and even though as far as Derek knew, Isaac had never made a tent in his life, Scott didn’t appear annoyed. He directed him with a smile and laughed when the blond made a mistake. It was like they had been best friends all of their lives.
Although, the way Scott’s eyes went wide and he blushed when Isaac took off his shirt, or the way Allison’s expression went sharply focused and speculative brought a new idea to the table that Derek wasn’t very comfortable entertaining.
Instead he wiped the sweat forming on his forehead and pulled off his short, throwing it on the ground next to Danny’s. And then, because he was a little pathetic, he looked up to see if Stiles was watching him.
He was.
(Kind of. He was looking in his direction, but he could have been looking at both of them at the same time.)
“Wow, you two are hot,” he said, mouth a little open as he stared at two of them with wide eyes and the hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.
Derek felt the tip of his ears heating up and looked down to avoid looking a blushing thirteen years old girl with a crush in front of Stiles, while Danny frowned slightly. “Aw, don’t be jealous, Stiles; you’re hot too.”
The brunet arched an eyebrow, snorting. “I wasn’t being jealous, Dannyboy, I was being gay.” He tapped his chin, thoughtful. “I think I had a dream like this, once.”
“Dude! Gross!” complained Scott, while Danny laughed and Derek choked and nearly hammered his finger.
Stiles turned to him with a scoff, “You weren’t in the dream, Scott. You can continue undressing Isaac with your eyes and I’ll continue pretending you aren’t here.”
“ Dude !” shouted the other, cheeks heating up, while Stiles simply looked away, smug expression on his face.
Isaac stared at the ground, his own face aflame, and Allison’s expression went from contemplative to positively gleeful.
Lydia pointed a finger at her. “Don’t you dare .”
“I wouldn’t ,” pouted Allison, face almost innocent.
Erica raised a brow at her. “You were supposed to say, “don’t you dare what?”. Now we know you at the very least thought about it.”
“You’re nasty,” added Stiles and Derek tuned out of the conversation, because they might as well have been speaking a different language. Cheerleader language, perhaps. Maybe Aiden would have been to translate it to him.
“So,” suddenly said Danny, a few minutes later. Under his guidance and explanation, building the tent had been almost straightforward.
Derek looked up at him, blinking. “So?”
Danny smirked, leaning a little forward. “What do you think of Stiles?”
The green eyed boy immediately tensed. What was this? Was Danny checking out the competition? Scaring off potential threats? And did he know that Derek had a thing for Stiles? Oh god, did Stiles ?
“What do you think of Stiles?” he asked back, trying for blank and ending up a little too earnest, at least from the surprised look on Danny’s face.
“I think he’s… nice,” finally said the tanned boy, seemingly confused as to how he ended up answering his own question.
Nice? Nice was not the word Derek would use to explain Stiles at all .
Stiles wasn’t mean per se, not in the way Lydia and Erica often were. But he could be dangerously vicious when he wanted.
“I agree,” was what he said instead, immediately turning his attention back on the stuff he was doing.
“Do you think he’s cute?” continued Danny, like a dog with a bone.
Derek levelled him with the same expression as before. “Do you think he’s cute?”
Danny blinked. He huffed, seemingly amused, “This is weird. Let’s not do this,”
“Agreed,” immediately answered the other, letting out a breath.
When he looked up, Stiles was looking at Danny, a smile on his face, and Danny was smiling back.
Derek didn’t look up again until they were done with the tent.
+
“Why the long face?” asked Isaac, sitting down on the ground next to Derek. “Jackson gave you trouble?”
Lydia had proceeded to split them all in different teams again - this time with everyone included - to go set up the chair, gather the woods, etc., and Derek had ended up paired up with Jackson of all people.
“No,” he answered.
The other guy had been surprisingly calm throughout the whole thing. They had spoken a little about the chairs while they were building them, but no captaincide had been enacted by either of them during the entire time they were together, which was somewhat of a progress, in Derek’s opinion.
Boyd made a faux sympathetic face next to him. “Stiles?”
Derek groaned, which both understood as a yes.
“I don’t get it,” then said Isaac, shaking his head a little. “He seems to like you, I think.”
The other glared at him. “As if . All he’s done so far is flirt with Danny over and over again.” He looked over the fire to where Danny and Erica had just returned, a number of forest fruits in their hands. Stiles was basically hanging on Danny’s arm, beaming up at him. “He’s flirting with him right now .”
“Stiles kind of flirts with everyone, though,” tried Boyd.
“Everyone except me,” sniffed Derek, feeling a little pathetic even as he said it.
“That’s kind of your fault,” said Isaac, raising an eyebrow at him. “You always freeze up and look panicked whenever he does. That kind of response tends to stop even a serial flirter like Stiles.”
“Well not everyone goes from ‘lacrosse players are dicks, why are we here’ to ‘I want this lacrosse player’s dick’ in one afternoon, Lahey. ” grumbled Derek, feeling only 20% better when Isaac blushed, embarrassed. Boyd just snickered quietly next to him.
“Asshole. See if I help you out ever again!”
“You didn’t even do anything!” complained Derek, but he did feel a little better after complaining to his friends.
“If you three are done gossiping like a bunch of housewives,” called Erica, as Allison and Stiles managed to finally build the fire.
Derek glared at her even as he stood up. “I know you’re not saying that when you spent half of the afternoon sitting under the tree.”
Erica punched him on the shoulder, none too gentle. “You think staying seated when all I wanted was to get there and teach you guys how to build tents properly wasn’t hard work, uh, Derbear?”
The boy rolled his eyes, but Stiles looked up, a huge grin blossoming on his face. “ Derbear? That’s so cute, what the hell, can I call you that?”
“No,” immediately answered Derek, almost going into cardiac arrest just from Stiles saying it once. The idea of him just calling him that when he spoke to Derek was too fluffy for his poor heart to take.
He must have said way too fast and way too clippy, because Stiles’ expression immediately shattered, lips going down and face going slightly awkward.
Crap . “I mean, I just, uh-” he tried, but words, as per usual, failed him.
Scott shot him a very angry glare, and even Jackson’s eyes narrowed at him.
“Derek hates the nickname,” said Erica, coming in his aid. “Which is why I use it, mostly. Don’t take it personally,”
Stiles looked up at that, and his expression turned a little more relaxed when Derek nodded emphatically at the girl’s words. Still he didn’t say anything, just nodding and then moving to sit down next to Lydia, Scott still glowering as he took the seat between them.
“Well done, Hale,” whispered Erica, the moment the attention was gone from him. “He looked like you just kicked him!”
“I know,” he complained, running a hand through his hair, mortified. “It’s just… he called me that, and I imagined him calling me that every day the same way he calls Scott Scottie Pie, and Danny Dannyboy , and I panicked. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
Erica’s face turned a little more understanding, and she sighed patting his arm. “Just, come on, let’s all sit. We have bunch of roastable stuff and soda. No beer or alcohol of any kind of though,” she said the last part very loudly, glaring pointedly at Lydia.
The red head looked up at her, unimpressed. “Bite me, Reyes. I will not apologise for wanting to avoid painful hangovers tomorrow or a fight breaking out because these men don’t know how to back out of a fight.”
“Hey!”
“Yes, even you, Stilinski.”
Stiles pouted at her, picking up a slice of pineapple and putting it on one of the campfire sticks.
“Anyway,” continued the red head, now talking to the group at large. “I’ve gone ahead and wrote down everyone’s names on a piece of paper and put them down in these three boxes. There is 5 names in the first - cheerleaders -, three in the second - basketball players - and four in the third - lacrosse.” She passed said boxes in Aiden’s direction, sitting down between him and Jackson. “Aiden, be a dear, and take one of the names from the first box and put it in the second. Then, take one of each, so we can settle down the sleeping arrangements.”
Jackson looked down at her, alarmed. “What, we are sleeping at random?”
The girl patted his cheeks, a little apologetic. “I’m hellbent on making the sure everyone can be civil and tolerant with each other.” She kissed his neck then, soft. “I’ll make it up to you.”
The blue eyed boy seemed appeased with that, and sighed. “Fine,” he said, like he had any choice in that.
“So the results are,” started Aiden, clearing his throat. “Aiden, Jackson and Boyd.” Both Aiden and Jackson made a face, but neither said anything. “Erica, Ethan and Lydia. Stiles, Danny and Derek. Allison, Scott and Isaac.”
Lydia narrowed her eyes at Allison. “I feel like you cheated, somehow.”
The brunette just winked at her.
Meanwhile Derek stared at the tent, feeling his heart exploding in his chest.
On one side: Stiles. Sharing a tent with Stiles, getting a chance to talk to him and everything. It was good.
On the other side: oh god, Stiles. Sharing a tent with Stiles. A whole night filled with traps waiting for Derek to fall into them and ruin his chances with the other forever.
On the other other side: Danny was also there.
He looked up trying to gauge Stiles’ reaction, but the other boy wasn’t even paying attention, too absorbed with grilling his pineapple.
“Hot dog?” asked Isaac, passing him one on a stick, and Derek just sighed, accepting it.
Once everyone had something, Scott suddenly cleared his throat.
“You know what’s missing from this?” He paused for effect, then said, “Scary campfire stories!”
“I know one,” immediately said Jackson, ignoring the groan coming from Stiles. “All right, are you all ready?
"Okay, so a man and his girlfriend go to a Make Out Point in the woods. They start making out for a while, music playing on their radio, all cute and happy and whatnot. Then suddenly, an announcement comes on the radio.” His voice dropped slightly. “A mass murdered had just escaped prison and had been last seen in the woods. Not much was known about him, except the fact that he’s missing a right hand and instead has a hook.
“The girl is immediately freaked out by this, and demands that the man take her home immediately. Her boyfriend is annoyed at first, but he really loves her, so he goes to start the car. However, when he tries to start it, the car refuses to start.
“After a couple of tries with the same result, her boyfriend says that he’s going to the main road to see if there is any other couple around to help him. His girlfriend is scared, but she agrees in the end.
“Ten minutes pass. Then ten more. Soon, a whole hour has gone by, and her boyfriend still isn’t back, so she starts to worry. But he told her to stay inside the car and keep the door locked, so she doesn’t step outside. Then, suddenly, she hears a scratching noise outside the driver’s door, and -”
“Man door hand car hook,” interrupted him Stiles.
Derek snorted at the meme, and Stiles looked up at him with a big answering grin in his face.
Jackson was less than pleased. “I wasn’t done, Stilinski.”
The brunet looked unrepentant. “We have all heard that story plenty of times before. You need new content.”
“I have more, you know?” grumbled the boy, clearing his throat. “Okay, fine. Here’s another; a man goes is staying at a hotel for the weekend. On his way to his room, he notices a door with no number on it-”
“An albino woman with white skin and red eyes committed suicide in that room years ago,” finished Erica, inspecting her nails with a smirk. “We know that too.”
“A babysitter goes to put two children to sleep in their room and notices a large creepy clown statue in the corner-” he tried again.
“Get out of the house, we don’t have a clown statue,” said Allison, tried to hide a laugh at the flustered expression on Jackson’s face.
“Two roommates in a room. Sarah says that she wants to go to a party and Mary wants to stay home-”
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn the lights on?” said Derek, and Stiles laughed, looking at him with sparkling eyes.
Jackson glared at him. “What, do you know any better stories, Hale?”
Derek shrugged, “I know some.”
Jackson made a huge gesture, as if to say ‘ the floor is yours’ , and Derek made quick eye contact with Boyd, before clearing his throat. “All right.
“The story that I’m about to tell you isn’t just a story,” he started. “Years ago, before Beacon Hills High was built, there was a house there.
“In the house lived three people: a mother, a father and their 15 years old child, Bryan.
“Bryan had actually lived away in the country for a few years, and had only just got back to living in the house with his parents. While in the countryside, he developed an habit of going downstairs for a midnight snack when he couldn’t sleep, and when he returned home, he carried the habit back home. He always paid attention not to wake up his parents when he did that, and, since the third step on the stairs was particularly squeaky, he paid extra attention not to step on it.
“On the day after his sixteenth birthday - about three weeks after he moved back - Bryan came down a little later than usual, to get the remains of the cake and snack on them. However, when he got to the last step and turned to the kitchen, he found the door open and a shadow sitting at the kitchen table, eating said remains.
“The shadow didn’t see him, and Bryan couldn’t really make out what he looked like. But he could tell he was definitely a boy, perhaps around his age? eating his cake and drinking milk straight from the carton just like Bryan always did.
“Very much freaked out - because they had locked all doors and windows before going to bed - Bryan quietly went back upstairs and woke up his parents. But they were too noisy and took too long, so by the time they got downstairs, the other boy had disappeared, and the nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the kitchen. Except the cake remains were missing, of course.
“His parents didn’t believe him, instead thinking that he had just ate the cake and didn’t want to fess up, and made up this whole story up.
“From that day, the boy started tracking everything in the kitchen as much as he could, and started noticing that things seemed to be moved around in the middle of the nights, snacks disappeared, and there a lot of times there was less food around than he was used to.
“Bryan also took to hide a kitchen knife under his pillow, afraid that the boy would come and attack him while his parents were asleep or something.
“For the longest time Bryan didn’t see him around. Sometimes he felt like a pair of eyes were staring at him while he was alone in his bedroom, but he never saw him. Until one night,” Derek stayed quiet for a second, watching everyone’s avid attention on him. Even Lydia was staring expectantly. “Bryan was alone in his house for the first time in a while when suddenly he heard the creaking of the third step. His mom had gone to work, and his dad was out shopping, and their family didn’t have any shopping. Instinctively, he knew it was the boy from the other night, the one that was stealing their food and moving stuff around.
“He grabbed his huge kitchen knife and hid under the bed, terrified out of his mind. He kept thinking that this was it, that he was going to die. So he just stayed still, and got ready to attack, because he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“The door of his bedroom opened, and he saw, from under the bed, two ugly dirty feet walking inside and stopping about a foot away from the bed. Then, a voice said, “why are you hiding from me? You’re supposed to come and find me,” in an almost childlike tone.
“It terrified Bryan even more, and he stayed quiet, afraid to move. The voice came again, “Come on! You have to find me!” it said, and the boy closed his eyes and his ears, scared.
“Then his leg was grabbed abruptly, and he was pulled out of his hiding place, screaming and kicking, and came face to face with the boy.
“His hair was long and messy, like he hadn’t put a comb to it in literal years, and just let it grow whichever way it wanted. His face was filthy and dark with soot and dust and everything in between, and his clothes, while dirty, looked a lot like Bryan’s clothing.
“But for a fraction of a second, when he looked at him in the eye, Bryan felt like he knew who he was. Like he had seen him before.
“It didn’t matter though, because cold terror set in at the sight of the boy’s long nails on his skin and putrid face so close to his, and he wildly pushed his knife and stabbed him, ignoring his screams and continuing to stab at him as much as possible.
“The boy let him go, clutching at various stab wounds in his body and shouting, ‘You’re hurting me, Bryan! Stop it, Bryan, you’re hurting me!’. Then he ran away, out the door, and Bryan ran after him, screaming like a madman, until he saw him climbing in the crawlspace in the bathroom.
“Then he ran outside, and waited there, bloody kitchen knife still in his hand until his parents came home. The parents, who had thought Bryan had an over creative imagination at first, were in shock for a few seconds, before they searched around the house.
“However, despite the blood pools in the bathroom and in the crawlspace, and the kitchen knife, they didn’t find the boy anywhere. Bryan kept telling them to check properly and to call the police, but his parents didn’t know much about the law, and where scared that if the police found the attack weapon covered in blood and no victim, they’d try and incriminate Bryan for another stabbing.
“Then, a few days later, the house started to smell. It was summer, so every scent was stronger, and soon enough it became almost unbearable to sit around in the house. His parents called the insulation and air conditioning people, and they determined that perhaps an animal had crawled into their conditioning space and died.
“Bryan wasn’t that surprised when they opened the walls and all air conducts and found the body of the other boy on the other side, quickly decomposing because of the august heat. But he was surprised when his parents recognised the boy.
“Growing up, Bryan had always had a bit of an imagination, so that when he had told them he had a new best friend called Mark that they never saw around, they had assumed he was an imaginary person. Even when the people down the road started putting flyers around about their child Mark going missing, they didn’t connect the dots, and, afraid that there was a child kidnapper on the loose in Beacon Hills, and because they were always so busy with work, they sent Bryan away.
“But Mark was real and had found a secret crawlspace in their house during a game of hide and seek and remained hidden in there for all those years, waiting for Bryan to come back from his holiday, hiding in the walls and watching the family for over 11 years.
“The family moved out after that terribly tragedy, and the house was destroyed, and the school was built on its remains.
“That’s why when it’s really hot, you can still smell something weird, especially in the basement,” he looked up, staying at the fire with the deadest eyes he could muster. “It’s the smell of his soul still rotting in the walls.”
No one said anything for a few seconds, just staring at him in shock.
“And Bryan?” he paused for effect. “It’s our principle, Bryan Figgins.”
“Holy shit,” muttered Scott, blinking owlishly at him. “I knew that guy was a murderer of some sort, oh my god.”
“Okay,” finally said Jackson, begrudgingly impressed. “You are an okay story teller, Hale.”
“Thanks,” he said, mouth quirking up in a smile, as everyone around him congratulated him. Even Stiles was giving him double thumbs up.
Success.
+
“Danny,” whispered Stiles, loudly. “Danny.”
After the scary story from Derek, everyone had been too creeped out to stay outside in the night, and had gone back inside their assigned tents and gotten comfy in their sleeping bags.
There was enough space inside that the bags weren’t squashed against each other, but not enough that Stiles’ loud whispers didn’t feel like they were being shouted in his ears.
“No,” groaned the other.
“Danny, please. I need to pee!”
“ No ,” repeated the other boy and Stiles let out an honest to god whine at this.
“I hate you so much ,” finally said Stiles, unzipping his sleeping bag. “I can’t believe you’re making me go alone, oh my god .”
“Love you too, Stiles,” muttered the other, getting even comfier in his bed, as Stiles slowly opened the door of the tent and tentatively stepped out, all the while muttering a steady litany of curses.
Derek considered it for a few seconds.
On one side, comfy sleeping bag. Sleep.
On the other side, the bathroom and showers where a good five minutes walk from the campsite, unless Stiles decided to go in the woods - something Lydia warned off under threat of sterilisation. And Stiles sounded pretty freaked out.
With a sigh, he unzipped his own sleeping bag and stepped out of it, picking up one of the torchlights he had brought along.
He heard Danny muttering something that sounded a little like ‘ whipped ’, and wondered how he fell asleep so fast and why would he dream of whipped cream during a camping trip.
Once outside, he set out jogging in the direction of the bathroom, quickly catching up to Stiles, who was walking with the feeble light of his phone to guide him and literally shaking like a leaf as he walked.
However, when he saw the light approaching him and heard Derek jogging towards him, he let out an unholy screech and started running the opposite direction.
Oh, shit .
He sprinted after him, and years of cheerleading had nothing on years of basketball. It took him just a few seconds to reach him and tackle him on the ground so that he didn’t crash against something or twist his leg.
“Let go, let me go, let me go, oh my god,”
If anything, that sent the boy into even more panic.
“Don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t kill me,” begged Stiles and Derek shook him a little.
“Stiles! Stiles, it’s me, Derek!”
The boy stopped shouting, but his body was still shaking a little. “ D- derek?”
“Yes,” said the dark haired boy slowly moving off him and putting the torch down so that both their faces could be in the light.
He felt a pang in his chest. Stiles’ eyes were wide and panicked, and he looked a second away from having a panic attack or bursting into tears. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
Stiles shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “God, I’m not usually such a wimp. I mean, blood kind of freaks me out, and so do exposed wounds, and I have a little phobia of needles, but… I’m not usually this much of a wimp.”
“You jump off human pyramids with no fear and always land on your feet,” nodded Derek, feeling almost solemn, “You’re not a wimp.”
The brunet gave him a quivering smile at this, and shook his head. “It’s just… the woods man. They freak me out. So much, and I got nervous. I mean Scotty used to come with me when we went camping back in the day, if I had to use the bathroom in the night, but I couldn’t just wake him up, you know?”
Derek nodded, standing up and offering his hand to Stiles. “I heard you asking Danny to come with you and since I was awake and all,” he said, shrugging awkwardly when Stiles was back on his feet.
He tried to let of Stiles’ hand to grab the torch on the floor, but Stiles just held onto his tighter. When Derek looked at him, the brunet blushed. “Can I- Do you mind if I-”
Derek pretended his heart didn’t do a flip at the question. “No, it’s okay. You can hold the torch too, if you want.”
Stiles beamed at him, a little of the tension leaving his body at that. “Dude! Thank you, you’re the best.”
Derek just shrugged, trying not to be pleased and failing spectacularly.
Instead, he continued holding Stiles’ hand, only letting go when they reached the bathroom and Stiles disappeared inside with the torch.
When he came back moments later, he immediately grabbed Derek’s hand again, but Derek didn’t say anything as they quickly walked back towards the campsite.
“You know…” started Stiles, as they campsite came into sight, still holding onto Derek’s hand. He didn’t seem as freaked out as before, but Derek selfishly liked this this, so he wasn’t going to complain.
“Uh?”
“This is not how I wanted to hold your hand for first time,” he told him, squeezing it a little harder.
Derek turned his head to the side, trying to gauge Stiles’ expression. But the light was pointing forward, and it was too hard to make out his features in the dark.
So he settled for a, “Yeah?”, a little breathier than normal.
“Uh-uh,” said Stiles, and his teeth shone bright in the dark.
“And how did -”
“Are those lights on in Allison, Scott and Isaac’s tent?” suddenly asked Stiles, eyes zeroing on the lit up tent. “Oh my god, they are totally fucking, those animals .”
Derek would have really wanted to go back on the topic of their hand holding, but he also kind of didn’t in case Stiles meant something different than what Derek hoped.
“Come on, we have to go check it out catch them in the act. Oh little princess Allison won’t know what hit her,” he started, ready to stalk in the direction of their tent and drag Derek with him.
“Oh hell no,” immediately said the dark haired boy, planting his feet on the ground. “We are not doing that.”
“I must know ,” insisted Stiles, trying to pull Derek along with him.
Stiles definitely wasn’t little, and he had plenty of core strength that came from cheerleading, and enough muscles. He was leaner than Derek, of course, but that didn’t make him weak.
Still, Derek could probably bench press him or do sit ups with him sitting on his back if he wanted, so no matter how much he pulled, Derek wasn’t moving.
“Der-ek!” he complained, but the other just arched an eyebrow at him.
“Think about it. I would rather drink bleach than see Isaac fuck anyone. Or be fucked by anyone.” He made a face, then shook his head. “Do you really want to see Scott balls deep in anyone.”
Stiles let out a full body shudder, the most disgusted expression on his face. “Oh good lord. The mental images. The mental images !”
“Come on,” said Derek, snorting at his dramatics. “Bed time.”
The brunet went willingly, quieting up as they entered the tent once again.
Danny was still fast asleep, all curled in himself on the side.
As Derek made to let go of Stiles’ hand and follow suit, Stiles suddenly spoke up.
“When I was younger, me and Scott used to go around the Preserve alone all the time,” he started, eyes fixed on their connected hands. “One day, Scott couldn’t come with me; his mom had said something about it being very dangerous, but she hadn’t explained to him why and my dad hadn’t said anything to me. His mom was home though, so he couldn’t sneak out and I went gallivanting alone in the woods. I was used to the woods, and even if I got lost, I knew how to get back home, easy.
“However, the reason why Mama McCall wouldn’t let him out was that a convict had escaped police escorting him to another prison in Beacon County, and had found refuge in the woods,” he said and Derek gasped, slowly understanding. “Exactly. I ran into the convict while in the woods. He didn’t have a gun on him, and he was still in shackles, but he had a torch in his hand and he looked so fucking crazy. I was terrified, and when I started running, he started chasing me like he was going to kill me or something.”
He swallowed, then continued. “Thankfully I made enough noise that the police and the dogs heard me and managed to catch him before he could hurt me in any way. But yeah, that’s why I freaked out like that when you came right at me with the torch light. I know it’s dumb-”
“PTSD isn’t dumb, Stiles.”
The brunet looked up from their hands and shrugged. “He never even touched me. The whole thing lasted maybe a five minutes, and then the police was there.”
Derek squeezed his hand, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. It was still traumatic for you, and that’s worth acknowledging. I’m really sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” tried Stiles, but the other boy wasn’t listening.
“Even if I didn’t mean it, I still triggered it. So let me be sorry for that. Okay?”
The other rolled his eyes, then smirked, his usual cockiness returning. “If you really are sorry then you’ll let me sleep in your sleeping bag.”
Derek didn’t even hesitate. “Okay.”
Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. “ With you.”
Was that some sort of come on? Was Stiles flirting with him?
He blinked. “Okay.”
Now the other’s eyes widened. “Wait for real?”
Derek did his best not to blush. “Were you joking?”
“No!” immediately said Stiles, wincing at how loud he had been. “Were you?”
“No,” agreed the basketball captain, way too quickly, if Stiles’ wide smile was anything to go by.
“Then… okay. Let’s share a sleeping bag!” said Stiles, barely stopping himself from clapping his hands together.
This means nothing , repeated Derek in his head, as Stiles climbed in the sleeping bag after him.
Friends do this all the time , he continued when Stiles let out a happy “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff. Cuddle bugs and sleepy hugs,”
This is fine , he finished when Stiles covered them both with the bag, and he was so so glad that he had been a clingy baby and his mother had always insisted on buying sleeping bags big enough for two in case Derek wanted to share with his parents or with his sisters - you know, when he was young enough that Laura allowed it and when Cora was young enough that she found comfort in it.
This is hell , he then decided when Stiles decided to start squirming around in the sleeping back. Which would have been fine, except that they were very close each other, and Stiles’ back was basically pressed against Derek’s front.
“Stiles,” whispered Derek, putting a hand on the boy’s hip, and suddenly glad that the dark was hiding his blush. “ Stop .”
“I’m trying to get comfy,” complained the other, still wiggling. “It’s hard .”
“Yes,” said Derek, through gritted teeth. “It’s hard , and you’re making it harder .”
The brunet stilled, and, for a second, Derek worried that he had just creeped him out or something.
Then, he felt him shaking in silent laughter next to him.
“It’s not funny ,” he grumbled, and Stiles giggled next to him, before pressing closer to Derek, Derek’s dick growing very interested when pressed against the curve of Stiles’ ass.
“ Stiles !”
“Okay, I’m sorry!” laughed the other boy, hand on his mouth so that he didn’t wake up Danny. “I’ll be good .”
Derek didn’t particularly care for that tone, especially with Danny in the same tent. He couldn’t even tell if Stiles was being his usual flirt self or if there was intent behind his moves or if he was trying to pay Derek back for embarrassing him earlier.
So, he firmly planted his chest on Stiles’ back, and dropped his arm on Stiles’ hip. Stiles stopped squirming, and Derek moved his head closer to the boy’s ear. “Sleep,” he ordered.
“Okay,” whispered the other.
And he actually followed through.
By the time Stiles’ bedhead poked its way out of the tent, Derek was already awake, freshened up and sitting next to Boyd, chocolate milk in his hand.
Both he and Scott poked their heads out of their respective tents with freakish synchronicity, but, whereas Scott stayed there for a few more seconds, yawning, Stiles’ eyes found Derek immediately, and he gave a little smile, waving at him.
It was too soft .
Derek blushed and gave a short and awkward wave before turning his attention back on Boyd.
The dark skinned man arched an eyebrow.
“Nothing happened ,” he let out immediately, and Boyd snorted, eyes turning disbelieving.
“What’s going on here, boys?” asked Isaac, stopping next to them with Erica in tow. He looked very smug as he picked up a bottle of banana milk from the table, and Derek suddenly remembered what exactly Isaac had been doing the night before. He made a face.
“I think something happened between Der and Stiles, last night. He’s being all weird, and he blushed just because Stiles waved at him.” pause. “Okay, that doesn’t sound different from usual, but there is something.”
Derek would have punched him, but Boyd was, while not one for unnecessary violence, just as strong as Derek himself.
Erica hummed, thoughtful. “You wouldn’t fuck him with Danny still in the tent. And you don’t look like you’ve been kissed,” she continued, ignoring Derek’s strangled noises.
Isaac looked up, eyes wide. “You can’t tell when someone’s been kissed?”
The girl spared him a look. “Yes, but I don’t need that talent to know that you and Scott and Allison definitely had sex last night. She keeps looking at you, and so did Scott before going to wash up with Stiles.”
Instead of embarrassed, the other blond looked smug. “Hell yeah, they do. I just had sex and it felt so good .”
Derek made another face, while Boyd snorted. “I think everyone saw it coming the moment you took off your shirt yesterday.”
As the other three’s attention was taken by Isaac’s threesome story, Derek tuned out of the conversation, thinking back to the night before too.
He really wanted to know if the handholding and then bed-sharing meant anything to Stiles other than a way to deal with his PTSD being triggered. Sure, he had said something about how ‘ this wasn’t the way he imagined holding Derek’s hand for the first time’ but that didn’t really tell Derek much.
And he hadn’t necessarily been disgusted by Derek almost popping a boner because they were laying so close to each other, but that didn’t mean that he had felt any particular way about it. They were all teenagers, awkward boners were a thing that they were all good at ignoring.
He saw Stiles and Scott coming back from the bathroom together, and considered his options. He could go up to Stiles and talk to him, getting some much needed answers; or he could stay right there and judge what Stiles could have possibly meant the night before by analyzing his body language.
A voice in his head that sounded scarily like a mix of Laura and Erica’s kept saying that the second idea was dumb, but his feet felt planted to floor. He was too nervous to move.
Instead he watched as Stiles slapped Scott on the back, laughing loudly at something he said while Scott looked pained and also kind of proud of himself. He said something and Stiles laughed again, pushing him away from himself.
He was so pretty, it physically hurt.
That’s it, Derek had to speak to him. Because there was at least a 75% chance that Stiles might like him too, and if he missed his chance because he was too scared to approach him, it was going to suck until he finished high school.
“Stiles!” called Danny then, and Derek stopped before he could move.
He then watched, disappointed as Danny rushed towards the brunet, who visibly lit up when he was handed a bottle of yogurt milk.
“Strawberry? Aw dude, you’re the best !” he told him, lifting himself up on his toes and pressing a loud and wet kiss on his cheek.
Danny rolled his eyes, making a disgusted face as he cleaned his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt, but linked his arm together with Stiles, pulling him a little away from the rest, speaking to him in low voices.
Derek felt like dying. And killing Danny. Killing Danny then killing himself because of sadness for killing Danny and because of heartbreak.
Of course Stiles liked Danny, even though Danny had been mean to him the day before and refused to come with Stiles to the bathroom. Or maybe, Stiles hadn’t told Danny that story yet.
But what did it mean that he hadn’t told his long time friend Danny with whom he flirted all the time but he had told Derek who, he was basically ignoring, seen as he hadn’t looked at him for the entire time they were in the clearing?
“Crushes are stupid,” he muttered to himself, then tuned back into the conversation between his friends.
“And yeah, Allison said that she’d peg us both if we wanted, and how sexy is that ?” asked Isaac, eyes shining.
Erica’s eyes were amused, Boyd looked vaguely interested and Derek regretted being friends with every single one of them.
+
Calling any of the puddles of water around the Beacon Hills Preserve a lake would be a lie, in Derek’s opinion. However, the almost perfectly circular water source Scott and Stiles lead them to was probably the closest thing to a lake that Derek had ever seen in their preserve.
“Nice,” whistled Erica, impressed. “How come no one knows of this spot?”
Stiles puffed out his chest, smirking. “Me and Scott sort of discovered it on one of our many excursions in the Preserve. We present to you Lake Sciles.”
Allison’s lips twitched. “Lake Sciles?”
“I am not calling it that,” quickly added Jackson, but Scott just shrugged, smiling.
“We found it first, and we named it. We are the Christopher Columbus of this place,” announced the co-captain grinning.
Lydia’s eyebrows rose, “A killing machine who enslaved and stole land from the indigenous, destroying them and half of their ecosystem?”
Scott blinked. “Okay, maybe not that dude. Fuck that dude.”
The red head nodded, pleased, while Allison stepped forward, tugging at her shirt. “All that work putting off the tent made me sweaty. Is it toxic?”
Ethan made a face. “Weren’t you sitting down the whole time?”
Isaac knocked his shoulder with the lacrosse player, grinning. “Right? We need to stand up to these cheerleaders!”
Allison gasped, in mock betrayal, while Jackson put a hand on Isaac’s back, smirking. “I like you, Lahey.”
Lydia seemed very pleased with the two of them willingly speaking to each other, and holy shit, Lydia’s plan for them to bond was actually working?
Stiles just laughed. “And no, it’s not toxic, Scott and I swam here all the time.”
“I don’t know,” commented Danny, making a face as he pulled off his shirt. “I’ve always said there was something definitely wrong with you.”
“You dare?” gasped Stiles.
Danny just grinned, but said grin turned into a yelp when a weight pushed against him and he was sent flying face first into the water.
Scott grinned at him when he finally resurfaced, high fiving Stiles, and Derek really should re-evaluate his morals since the whole thing filled him with more happiness than it should have.
“You ass!” laughed Danny, shaking water out of his hair but making zero efforts of coming out.
Scott showed his tongue at him, but immediately screeched when he was lifted up by Isaac in a bridal carry all of a sudden. His eyes widened, and he held onto the blond’s neck. “Dude, no no no no-”
Isaac grinned evilly and just let out a weird gorilla scream as they both jumped into the water, and then it was just chaos of people shoving each other in the water.
Erica pushed Allison in the water, and then Boyd unceremoniously dropped her inside before jumping in after her. Lydia executed a perfect backflip into the water and Derek had the pleasure of working with Aiden to push Jackson in the water. Then the twins started battling with each other in an attempt of overpower each other, and Derek paused scanning the water and around for a familiar brown head.
He heard Stiles rushing at him before he even saw him, but he didn’t do anything, more than a little endeared as he tackled him on the ground instead of sending him in the water.
Derek ended up on his back with Stiles laying on top of him, and he just laughed when the honey eyed boy pouted and blushed, his face inches from Derek’s. “I think I miscalculated,”
Derek’s laugh quickly died out, Stiles’ breath ghosting on his lips, and Derek’s eyes went automatically for his lips. When he looked back up, a knot in his throat all of a sudden, Stiles’ eyes also snapped back from where he had been looking at his lips.
Derek raised one eyebrow and Stiles seemed to blush even more, even as he rolled his eyes. “Hey, you looked first.”
Then his impudent grin returned, and he pressed the softest of kisses on Derek’s lips.
It was soft, and no longer than a few seconds, but it was definitely a kiss; even as Stiles scrambled on his feet and jumped into the water, Derek could feel the ghost of said lips on his.
He was back on his feet pretty quickly, dropping his shirt and trousers in the pile with everyone else's, jumping along with everyone else.
The water was way colder than he had expected, but he didn’t care as his head re-emerged, hazel eyes quickly scanning around.
Allison and Isaac were playing in one corner, Jackson and Scott were trying to push each other’s head underwater, Boyd, Aiden, Lydia and Erica had found a ball and were playing some sort of water volleyball, Ethan and Danny were kissing - Uh ? Where did that come from - and there.
Stiles was not too far from him, grinning with cheeks a little flushed.
Derek slowly swam towards him, and the brunet didn’t move, eyes tracking Derek until the boy finally stopped next to him.
“Hi,” he said, and Derek felt his lips turning up.
He moved his head forward and kissed him, his own lips easily mapping themselves around Stiles’, gentle but firm. “Hi,”
When he stepped back Stiles’ grin turned into a very pleased smile, and he tongue darted out, licking at his lips with a small smile. “Okay, just so that I don’t start second guessing myself like this morning and that we are both on the same page. You like me, right?”
Derek arched an eyebrow. “I just kissed you.”
Stiles also raised an eyebrow, in mockery of Derek. “Well yesterday I held your hand acting like a blushing virgin and then you basically got a boner because of my ass on your dick, but this morning you disappeared before I even woke up and you wouldn’t meet my eye, so-”
“Oh my god, shut up ,” groaned Derek, mortified. He looked around, making sure that Erica was far far away from this conversation. “I wasn’t ignoring you! Also you were with Danny and all flirty with him…” he hated how insecure he sounded all of a sudden, but he had to explain himself.
“I flirt with everyone,” pointed out Stiles, confused. “If I was more heavy handed lately is because Danny wanted to make Ethan jealous enough that he’d make an actual move.” He nodded in the direction of where the two teens were still making out with each other. “It was a success.”
“You don’t really flirt with me as much as everyone else,” pointed out Derek, shrugging. “Hell, you flirt with Jackson more than you flirt with me.”
At this Stiles pouted. “You look so mad at me and uncomfortable whenever I do. For the longest time I was sure you hated me or something, but whenever you approached me you seemed nice; I just figured you didn’t like me romantically or something.”
All Derek could do at that statement was blink. “Stiles I’ve been crushing on you since we were in Freshman year and you pantsed Theo Raeken in front of the whole school because he filmed one of Erica’s seizures.”
Instead of looking at him pitifully or being freaked out as Derek expected, Derek’s grin grew. “Holy shit, that long? I thought you didn’t even know who I was before I joined the cheering squad. You didn’t even speak to me before I became a cheerleader!”
“I was too nervous!” admitted Derek, ears turning red. “We shared one class in freshman year and you were with Scott all the time, and Scott was a lacrosse player while I was a basketball player. I couldn’t approach you.”
“This sucks,” complained Stiles. “We could have been kissing all these years if it wasn’t for the stupid lacrosse-basketball rivalry.”
Derek put both of his hands around his face, smiling toothily at him. “We have making up to do then.”
“Making up on making out!”
Derek laughed in the kiss, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I like you.”
Best. Camping trip. Ever.