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Derek had been coming into his room a lot recently. He would kick Stiles off his computer (more often than not, sit him down with his college textbooks to do homework he'd been putting off) and, ostensibly to do some research. It had been happening more and more as the year passed. Stiles would complain about it, but he knew it was necessary. Derek needed to find his mate.
The pack had come to him, worried, when he got back from Spring Break away with his Dad. Derek was an alpha and he needed his mate. It sounded ridiculous but Derek's inner wolf was actually pining and it was making Derek in his human form sick. Well, he'd been the one to figure that out. The pups had come to him crying that something was wrong with their alpha. Stiles, resident human and researcher, had jumped to task straight away.
Derek had merely looked at him tiredly when he presented the sourwolf with his findings. A quiet I know had been the only acknowledgement he received.
It has to be someone he knows, Scott had insisted in the pack-meeting-sans-Alpha that Stiles had called to solve the problem. It has to--otherwise his wolf would be in a searching frenzy instead of pining. Someone who's recently become of age.
It was Jackson who suggested they make Derek a Facebook. After all, being an Alpha's mate came with its own set of instincts. If they didn't know about the mating bond, they'd suddenly find themselves thinking of Derek without reason, probably be driven to seek out and reacquaint themselves with him. Stiles knew that feeling--he felt like there'd been nothing but Derek in his head since he got back from Spring Break.
It took Derek a week to find out about his new account, which he'd quickly snatched away from their hands. They'd convinced Danny to hack into it after the curiosity became too much--but the only friends Derek had were Stiles and the rest of the pack. Stiles was forced to throw out his algorithm for finding Derek's mate (female, turned twenty-one in the past six months, with a sliding scale of how much of Derek's attention they sought out).
Stiles gave a half-yawn-groan and threw down his pen, glaring first at the pages of maths in front of him, then turning it on the sourwolf still sat on his computer. The browser was just sitting open on the same page of text he’d been reading for an hour—hadn’t even scrolled down judging by the position of the picture. Humming in annoyance, Stiles got to his feet and went to kick him to do something or let him back on. He paused beside Derek, jaw hanging slack when he realised that Derek was asleep. Numb from shock, he sunk onto the desk beside the keyboard, staring at Derek's upturned face.
Well, he thought, Derek's mate is a very lucky girl.
The cold light of the laptop screen lit up Derek's face in sharp contrasts. The paleness of his skin marred with deep blue bags beneath his eyes and inky black stubble that was more unruly than Derek had used to let it get.
Before he could really think about what he was doing, he leaned forward and nosed the stubble in the hollow of Derek's cheekbone. The wolf murmured sleepily, a smile tugging at his lips. Stiles tucked himself into Derek's side, glancing at the computer clock vaguely before nosing at the dimples hidden behind the black hair. The sourwolf hummed happily and nuzzled back towards him. He was pressing feather-light kisses on Derek's lips before his awareness came back. What was he...?
Derek's eyes opened, frown creasing between his brows. "How long were you...?"
Stiles glanced at the computer clock again to see the same time. "Less than a minute." Derek watched him carefully while the words in the screen sunk in. Werewolf mates have their own set of instincts, the compendium informed him, in wake of the mating drive, a mate will find their thoughts focused on their werewolf (even if the mate is unaware of their status) and will seek the company of their wolf and pack. In intimate proximity, a mate will find themselves affectionate with their wolf. Stiles stood up almost violently, staring at Derek in disbelief. "I'm your mate."
Derek smiled, pulling Stiles down onto his lap and wrapping him in warm arms. "Yes."
"I'm not twenty-one," Stiles pointed out, confused.
"But you did just turn eighteen," Derek reminded him. "It's been hell waiting for you to figure it out."
Stiles whined in confusion, nosing the crook of Derek's neck. "Why me?"
"Who else would it be, Stiles?" Derek rumbled. "The pack already comes to you as an alpha. They instinctively knew to bring their concerns about the mate bond to you, even when none of you knew why." He lifted a hand to comb through shorn hair. "It's always been you, Stiles."