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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

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Merry Christmas, ravenclawkward-art!

For @ravenclawkward-art. Happy Christmas! I hope you enjoy!!

Read On AO3

*****

Derek catches the first hint of the scent as he fits the key into the lock. Traces of vanilla, cinnamon and the earthy tang of petrichor hang in the air— it’s a scent he’s become thoroughly acquainted with over the last few years.

He pushes open the front door, prompting the scent to waft through and envelope him like a warm hug.

“How did you get in?” He asks, not even looking at the figure sprawled across his couch. Moving through to the kitchen, Derek sets down his paper bag of groceries. “Actually, how did you get here?” He asks, turning. He hadn’t seen the Jeep on his way in.

“Oh, you know.” Stiles wanders in after him, hopping up onto the counter beside the fridge. “Magic.” He punctuates the word with jazz hands.

Derek huffs fondly, rolling his eyes and reaching for the milk. “Don’t you have friends you can annoy instead?”

“Good try big guy,” Stiles teases, helping Derek by handing him things out of the bag. “I’m here for the pack meeting.”

“You’re three hours early.”

“I’m super punctual.” Stiles swings his legs, knocking his heels into the cupboard door beneath him. “Oh.” His legs still suddenly and he drops down from the counter. “You got mail.” He disappears out of the room for a minute, returning with a letter, still talking. “Like, who even sends mail anymore? I swear werewolves live in the stone ages.”

Derek snatches the envelope Stiles is waving in his face, tearing it open to scan the letter inside.

“It’s the Robertson pack.”

“The who pack?” Stiles peers at the letter over Derek’s shoulder, trying to read along. Saving him the effort, Derek passes it over when he’s done.

“The Robertson pack took me and Laura in after the fire,” Derek explains, moving to lean against the bench. “Their Alpha, Sarah, knew my mom when they were young.”

“Why didn’t you stay with them?” Stiles asks, folding up the letter. “You and Laura lived in New York on your own. Wouldn’t it have been better to stay with another pack?”

Derek shakes his head. “I wanted to, but- Laura had just become Alpha. It made things difficult. So, we left. We kept in touch for a while, but after coming back here, after Laura’s death and everything that happened with Peter… we just lost touch.”

“Until now?” Stiles hands back the letter. “They’re asking permission to enter the territory.”

Nodding, Derek takes it, unfolding and refolding the paper carefully in his hands. “I’ve never hosted another pack before. Mom did it a couple of times.”

“What does it involve?”

“It varies depending on the pack. We would offer them a place to stay and a meal. The Robertson are old family friends so it will probably be a little more informal. More like… what does your dad do when extended family comes around?”

“He hides the good whiskey,” Stiles jokes. “But seriously, this is awesome and, as your emissary, I can help you plan.”

With a roll of his eyes, Derek turns from the kitchen. “You’re not my emissary.”

“Why not?” Stiles whines, trailing behind the werewolf. “I’d be so good at it.”

“At planning or being my emissary?”

“Por qué no los dos?” Stiles says it with an exaggerated wink, dropping back down onto the couch.

***

By six pm the rest of the pack have arrived, and the house is full of loud voices, lively conversation and laughter.

It’s taken a long time to reach this point—a point where the pack trust Derek as their Alpha, and each other. A point where a pack get together feels like… family.

Looking around the room, something swells in Derek’s chest at the sight of Kira and her swollen belly. Sandwiched between Stiles and Erica on the couch, she’s guiding their hands to feel the baby’s kicking.

His gaze flicks across Stiles, laughing at something Erica says, his head thrown back exposing the long line of his neck. A lot of this was Stiles’ doing.

Stiles was the one who had instituted pack night. He’d called it compulsory fun night. He’d begged and bullied every single one of them into gathering at the site of the old Hale house and had turned up with Lacrosse sticks and movies. He’d forced Derek to use his words when he was feeling frustrated and encouraged communication with the pack.

Derek had wanted nothing more than for the pack to bond together properly, so he had done as Stiles told him and in doing so, he’d built his confidence as an Alpha.

Stiles looks up suddenly, catching Derek’s eye from across the room, and winks, before turning back to Kira without even breaking from their conversation. Derek feels his face flush and ducks back into the kitchen to finish cooking.

This was something Derek had initiated. Everyone takes a turn providing for the pack, whether it’s a home cooked meal or take out.

Derek’s made tacos. He sets out meat and salsa and guacamole on the counter so that everyone can serve themselves and starts building his own before the literal wolves descend.

It becomes a free for all after that. Derek snatches his plate and his beer and escapes to the living room. The rest of the pack follow suit, finding places to perch and eat. The house has a more formal dining room, but they really only eat in there on special occasions, preferring to sprawl out in front of the TV.

“Hey.” Stiles drops down onto the couch beside Derek, almost toppling his tacos off his plate. He rescues one, jamming it onto his mouth and crunching down. “So, I spoke to Lydia and she said she can help with planning this pack get together thing.” He continues to talk around another mouthful of food, and it should be gross, but it’s just so Stiles.

“Uh huh.” Derek rescues Stiles’ beer before he sends it flying. “So, if Lydia’s in charge I guess should I be pulling out the tux?”

With a snort, Stiles retrieves his drink and drains the bottle. “You own a tuxedo? I don’t believe you have ever worn a suit in your life.”

“Hey, I have hidden depths,” Derek counters. “I could own a tux.”

“I’d like to see that.” Stiles smirks and brings his beer back to his lips, seemingly forgetting that the bottle is empty. He lowers it quickly, face flushing—though, maybe that’s just the glow from the TV. Derek tries not to dwell on it.

Sometime around midnight the pack start to either filter out or upstairs. The house is big enough for everyone to stay over if need be, Derek made sure of that when building it, but he’s the only one who lives there full time—most of the pack have houses closer to town.

Derek doesn’t mind that they’re all spread out. There’s always someone over at any given time—usually Stiles. Speaking of, Stiles is sprawled out on the couch, snoring gently.

“Hey.” Derek wakes the spark gently. “You want to crash here?”

Stiles stretches on the couch, his shirt riding up to reveal the pale skin of his stomach. “Wha’ time izzit?”

“Almost one.”

“Oh.” Stiles sits up slowly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, thanks.” He shuffles off towards the downstairs bathroom and Derek finishes unpacking the dishwasher. “Can I borrow a sweater?” He asks when he returns, his hands wrapped around his body to ward off the chill in the air. It’s two weeks until Christmas and winter has finally settled across Beacon Hills.

“Sure, come on.” Derek puts the last plate away and leaves the kitchen, heading to his bedroom. Stiles follows him upstairs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed while Derek digs through his drawers. “Here.”

Stiles takes the sweater and shrugs it on over his head. They’re the same height, but Stiles is not as broad as Derek so the sweater hangs, just a little, on his lanky frame. He paws his hands up in the sleeves and flops back onto the bed.

“I’m so tired,” he whines.

“Then go find your bed,” Derek tells him, nudging Stiles to move. “This one’s mine.”

“Can’t move. Too sleepy.”

“Stiles.”

“Can’t hear you. I’m already asleep.”

With a quick shove, Derek sends Stiles tumbling to the floor.

“Rude.” Picking himself up off the floor, Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek and trots off to his room.

***

Three days later the whole pack gathers at Derek’s house.

Lydia, as always, has outdone herself with the spread. There is enough food and meat to feed a small army and she has the wolves all rotating through shifts on the spit. The rest of the pack are put to work moving tables and chairs out onto the wide green lawn.

Up on the porch, Isaac has set up speakers to play music while they work.

“One of the wards just triggered,” Stiles says, grinning as he sets down his armload of plates and cutlery. “Must be them.”

Twenty minutes later Boyd is the first to cock his head to catch the faint rumble of a car turning on to the winding track that leads up to the house. By the time their visitors pull up onto the grass, everyone (bar Scott and Jackson on spit duty) is gathered around on the porch.

“Alpha Robertson,” Derek greets walking up to the newly arrived group.

“Alpha Hale.” The werewolf’s mouth ticks up in a smile. “It’s good to see you Derek. It’s been too long.”

“It has.” Derek returns the smile. “Sarah, this is my pack,” he says, turning and gesturing to the curious faces lining the porch. He almost knocks his hands into Stiles, who is hovering a half-step behind him.”

“Stiles Stilinski,” he says pushing forward, arm outstretched in greeting. “Pack emissary.”

Derek barely restrains rolling his eyes in front of the older Alpha, turning to hide his face under the guise of beckoning forward the rest of the pack. After they’ve made their introductions, Sarah introduces the pack to her husband and three children, Alex, Mark and Lilah.

“So, what brings you out our way?” Stiles asks as they all walk back up to the house.

“My eldest joined the Thomson pack earlier this year,” Sarah explains. “We’re heading up to visit for Christmas.”

“She’s gonna have a baby,” the youngest kid, Alex, offers shyly from behind his mom.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Stiles tells him. “So, you’re going to be an uncle. I’m going to be an uncle soon too,” he says with a conspiratorial whisper and a head nod towards Kira.

“We’re not much for flying,” Sarah continues, “and we thought the trip might be a good opportunity to visit.”

Nodding, Stiles leads the way into the house. “Derek said you were friends with Talia.”

“We’re actually related.” Sarah grins when Stiles skids to an abrupt halt. “Third cousins?”

“Through Dad,” Derek confirms.

“What?” Stiles turns to Derek. “But you said- I thought your dad was human.”

“He was.”

“Huh. Cool.”

They show their visitors to their guest rooms so they can put down their bags and then take them outside.

Dinner is a rowdy affair.

There are fifteen of them crowded around the two long tables that have been dragged onto the grass. Once the younger members of the Robertson pack, namely Alex and his older brother Mark, get over the shyness of meeting strangers it’s every man for himself as the food is laid out.

“So, who’s manning the fort back home?” Stiles asks, leaning across Derek to talk to Sarah.

“Stiles,” Derek warns, nudging the human away from his plate. “You can’t ask that, it’s not polite.”

“Oh, sorry,” Stiles says, looking genuinely apologetic, but then he barrels on anyway. “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just this guy here-” he pauses to bat at Derek’s shoulder “-keeps telling me we can’t leave the territory unguarded whenever I try to suggest getting away for a few days.”

“It’s fine,” Sarah is quick to reassure them. “My sister is looking after things while we’re gone. And Derek’s right when it comes to new packs.”

Derek raises his eyebrows at Stiles as if to say, ‘I told you so’ and ducks another playful swipe.

“But you’ve been Alpha for what, seven years now?” She asks. “And Beacon Hills has been Hale Pack territory for, I don’t know, generations, not to mention those wards we passed on the way in.” Sarah points to Stiles. “That was you?”

Stiles nods quickly. “Yep.” He accepts the bowl of baked potatoes from Boyd. “So, what you’re saying is that Derek needs to get out more? ‘Cos that’s what I’m hearing.”

“I’m saying that it’s okay to take a break occasionally.”

Stiles laughs, his knees knocking into Derek’s under the table. “Derek doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

***

The full moon falls two days after the Robertson’s arrive and Derek invites Sarah and her family to run with them through the preserve.

It’s a Saturday and most of the pack have taken the weekend off, so they spend the day at the pack house, working off the restless energy that comes with a full moon. As the afternoon rolls on the games get rougher and someone digs out the lacrosse sticks.

“Count me in.” Stiles jogs over with Scott and Isaac and snatches up one of the sticks, twirling it in his hands.

“Is that a good idea?” Mark, the middle Robertson child, asks. “A human playing against werewolves?” He looks to Derek, tone dripping with cocky arrogance but Derek just shrugs.

“Oh, to have the confidence of a fifteen-year-old werewolf,” Stiles sighs, scooping up the ball. “I could have used some of that as a teenager.”

“Could have used some of the athleticism too,” Derek quips, knocking Stiles with one shoulder.

“Oh, you can shove it,” Stiles grins stumbling away, still in possession of the ball. “You playing or what kid?”

“Fine,” the young werewolf shrugs. “It’s your funeral.” His eyes flash gold.

“That’s not that impressive,” Stiles tells him. “I can do it too.”

“But you’re not a wolf.”

“So many doubters today.” He closes his eyes for a moment and when they re-open they shine bright with the power of his spark.

“You going to play or just keep showing off?” Boyd asks.

Stiles grins, playfully baring his teeth “Oh, it’s on.”

The moon finally breaches the horizon just after four pm. It’s not yet dark enough to go running through the preserve, but some wolves start shedding clothes and skin, sprouting fur as they shift from two legs to four.

The lacrosse game is forgotten in favour of chasing each other around the clearing.

“Don’t even think about it,” Stiles warns, backing away from Derek. “We will not be playing chase the human tonight.”

Grinning wolfishly, smile wide and full of teeth, Derek makes a big show of slowing kicking his sneakers off.

“I’m not kidding Der, I will end you.”

“Better start running,” Derek teases, pulling his shirt up over his head. From the corner of his eye, he can see the rest of his pack watching with various shades of amusement.

“Fuck you buddy.”

Derek can tell there’s no heat behind the words and Stiles is trying to hold back a smile. He’s bolting off around the house before Derek’s shirt has even hit the ground.

“Go on then,” Stiles says once it’s finally dark enough to enter the preserve. “Pick on Stiles time is over; I need a nap after that.” He sprawls out on his back in the grass, staring up at the sky. It’s a clear, cool night.

Derek stands over him, nosing at Stiles’ hair then swinging his head towards the trees. He takes a half step, waiting for Stiles to follow.

“I think I’m going to hang here with the women and children,” Stiles says, craning his head back. “I’ll just slow you down. You have fun though.” He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Derek’s coarse fur before giving him a gentle shove towards the forest. “Go on.”

With one final glance over his shoulder, Derek trots off into the trees.

***

By the time they return to the house, everyone is exhausted. Derek immediately searches out Stiles as he re-enters the clearing. He’s easy enough to find, sitting by the dying bonfire chatting to Kira. The red glowing embers illuminate their faces and cast deep shadows across the lawn.

Derek pads over to them, drawn to Stiles like a moth to flame, flopping down in the grass beside Stiles.

“Good run?” Stiles asks, slumping back so that he’s half leaning against Derek. The werewolf lets out a soft contented rumble. “Mm, glad to hear it,” Stiles mumbles around a yawn.

“Ugh, it’s late,” Kira complains from where she sits. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” She stands with Scott’s help, and waddles back towards the house.

“I think I’m going to call it too.” Stiles pats Derek on the shoulder and stands slowly, taking the time to stretch before heading inside.

Derek waits until he’s inside before he heads off in search of his discarded clothes, still sitting and collecting dew on the grass. He shifts, picking up his sweatpants and shaking them out. He pulls them on and makes his way towards the porch.

“You should be proud of what you’ve created here.” Sarah joins him at the top of the steps. They lean against the porch railing and watch the wolves still sprawled out in the grass after the run. “You’ve built a strong pack. I know Talia would be proud of you.”

Derek ducks his head. There’s a warm feeling in his stomach at the Alpha’s words. “I didn’t think I’d find this again.” He confesses, voice low. “And, for a while I didn’t think deserved it.”

There’s a familiar footfall behind them and the comforting scent of cinnamon and vanilla.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Stiles wanders up beside them. “Can I borrow a sweater?”

“Did you return the last one you ‘borrowed’?” Derek asks.

“Hey,” Stiles leans against him, one arm slung across Derek’s shoulders. “It’s not my fault your clothes are so damn comfy. If you didn’t want me taking them, you should have bought cheaper, scratchier sweaters. Ever think about that Der?”

“Fine,” Derek gives in quickly, waving Stiles off before he can launch into another tirade on the superiority of Derek’s sweaters.

“Thanks.” Stiles trots off, letting his hand trail across Derek’s back.

“You guys are good together,” Sarah says, her voice warm. “You’re lucky to have found a mate like Stiles.”

“Mm,” Derek nods, eyes following Stiles back towards the house. The words sink in and he freezes, mind frantically replaying every interaction he’s had with Stiles over the last few days, wondering how they could have possibly given her that impression.

Stiles is- he’s Stiles. He’s funny and smart and kind and— they’re not mates, no matter how much Derek might wish otherwise.

Still, he doesn’t correct her.

Instead, he makes some mumbled excuse about being tired and escapes to his bedroom.

That, at least, is the truth. It’s been a long night and now the sun is just beginning to peek up over the horizon. Derek feels as though he could sleep for a week as he climbs the stairs to the second level and throws his bedroom door open ready to crawl beneath the covers.

“Stiles.” He nudges the lump half hidden under the covers. “This isn’t your bed.”

The younger man murmurs something unintelligible and rolls onto his side.

With a sigh, Derek pulls back the covers, and climbs into bed.

***

He’s warm when he wakes.

So, very warm.

There’s a line of cinnamon scented heat pressed down the length his chest. Lying there in the soft space between sleep and wakefulness, Derek feels more comfortable that he ever has in his life.

And then the warm body in front of him shifts and Derek is suddenly very aware that Stiles is that warm body. He must have pulled him in to his chest at some point while they slept.

Carefully drawing back the arm that had been casually slung across Stiles’ waist, Derek wiggles back on the bed so that he’s no longer pressed up against his packmate. The sheets are gathered around their waists, hiding Derek’s rather unfortunate issue, but it doesn’t hide the pale expanse of skin where Stiles’ sweater has ridden up over his side.

With a bitten-off sigh Derek rolls out of bed and stumbles across to the bathroom.

He stands, head bowed beneath the spray and lets the pounding water rinse away the dirt and sweat that still clung from the full moon run. He tries not to think about the fact he’s still hard, and lets his mind drift, but his thoughts keep coming back to Stiles, stretched out in Derek’s own bed.

With one hand coming up to brace against the wall, Derek palms himself with the other. He allows a single flash of guilt before letting his thoughts drift back to the bed, to the hollow of Stiles throat. He starts slow, working up to a quick rhythm and biting back a soft moan.

He’s close, the pleasure starting to pool in his gut and Derek increases the pace. His mind wanders to the dip of Stiles’ hips between the ruched-up shirt and the low-slung sleep shorts. His own hips jerk in short aborted thrusts and he comes with a swallowed curse.

After washing away the evidence, Derek cuts the running water and reaches for a towel.

Stiles is still asleep when Derek re-enters the room, so he dresses quickly and slips out the door. The house is quiet, with most wolves having only gone to bed a few hours ago, but there’s a soft clatter of someone moving about downstairs.

“You’re up early,” Derek says, stepping into the kitchen.

Scott stifles a yawn with the back of his hand and gestures to the coffee maker that has just beeped. “The baby is awake,” he mutters, reaching for the pot. “Which means Kira is awake, which means I am awake.” He pours himself a generous serving, filling the mug up to the rim, then passes the pot over. “Why are you up?”

“Sarah thinks Stiles is my mate.” The words come out in a rush.

“Yeah? And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“I mean…” Scott looks uncertain. “What’s the problem? Was that all she said?”

“She said we’re good together.”

“Okay.”

“Scott.”

“What?” Scott leans back against the counter. “You are! You’re like the pack mom and dad.”

Derek waves him off. “Stiles doesn’t even like me like that!”

Scott scoffs against the rim of his mug. “What are you talking about? Stiles is crazy about you.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Dude, can’t you smell it? He’s like, super aroused around you, like all the time.”

“That’s just Stiles’ scent. He always smells like that.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Derek’s expression goes blank. “He doesn’t?”

Shaking his head, Scott continues. “It’s only when he’s around you… or talking about you… or thinking about you. It’s super gross.”

“I didn’t know.”

“He’s over here all the time! He’s asleep in your bed right now- don’t give me that look, you reek of Stiles.” Scott refills his mug and moves to pat Derek on the arm. “He likes you man, like, really, really likes you. Honestly, you’d have to be blind not to see it.”

***

The Robertson pack head off the next morning once everyone is well rested. There are fewer people around to see them off— Scott had been called in to an emergency at the vet and Erica had dragged Boyd off to visit her parents.

“It was really good to see you Derek. Please don’t be a stranger.” Derek lets himself be bundled up in a hug before Sarah moves on to say goodbye to the rest of the pack. “Stiles, you make sure to remind that stubborn mate of yours to take a break every now and then.”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Derek can’t quite read Stiles’ facial expression. If he’s surprised, he certainly doesn’t say anything, just returns the Alpha’s hug and cheerfully waves until the car disappears down the driveway.

Once they’re gone, Derek makes his excuses and escapes to his bedroom. Despite Scott’s assurances, he still hasn’t said anything to Stiles.

“We need to talk.”

Derek starts so badly at the voice in his room. “How do you keep getting in?” He asks, turning to face the doorway.

“Magic.”

“Still not funny.”

“Uh, it’s hilarious,” Stiles says, grinning.

“The door was locked Stiles.”

“I know, figured you were either moping about something or jerking off. Decided to take my chances.” He walks into the room, shutting the door behind him and leans against the far wall. “Anyway, you’re dressed, so you probably weren’t jerking off, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’ve been avoiding me since yesterday, something’s wrong.” He’s still smiling, but Stiles’ scent has turned tart with concern.

“It was nothing, just something Alpha Robertson said.”

“I like her.” Stiles gazes at Derek thoughtfully. He pushes away from the wall and crosses the room to sit on the bed. “She seems like a good Alpha.”

“She is.”

“You’re a good Alpha too.”

Derek smiles, ducking his head. It’s high praise coming from Stiles.

“A little clueless sometimes...”

The smile drops from his face.

“Let me guess.” Stiles leans forward, his arms braced against his knees. “Your current mopey face has something to do with what Sarah said before?”

Derek can’t look at him, he stares at the patterns in the carpet instead.

“The other night, she called us mates and you didn’t correct her.”

Derek’s stomach drops as his head jerks up. “You heard that?”

“It wasn’t exactly whispered. She said it right as I was leaving. Why-” Stiles swallows audibly. “Why didn’t you correct her?”

Letting out the breath he’s been holding, Derek asks, “Why didn’t you?”

He watches Stiles’ face carefully, scrutinising every little expression that flickers across his face in that second, reading the exact moment he makes up his mind with the slight lift of one brow and the uptick at the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted it to be true.”

Derek can only imagine what his own face must look like, caught someplace between shock and joy at Stiles’ words. His grin is probably bordering on manic when he says, “me too.”

“Oh. That’s-” Stiles licks his lips and tries again. “Good. That’s good. I’m, uh-” His gaze flick from Derek’s eyes to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Stiles’ hand hooks into the Derek’s shirt, drawing him in. Fingers tangle in his hair and then Stiles’ lips are on his, warm and urgent.

When they pull away from each other Stiles laughs, knocking his knees into Derek’s.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so fucking long.

*Epilogue*

The glare from the window falls right across Derek’s face and he shifts, slowly surfacing from the depths of sleep. He drags his arm up to cover his face, provoking a grunt from the person who’d been using it as a pillow.

Stiles shifts, rolling over to blink up at Derek.

“Morning.”

Derek throws his arm over Stiles’ hip, dragging him in so their bodies are flush. “You’re in my bed.”

“Nuh uh, it’s my bed now,” Stiles teases sleepily, stealing a quick kiss before tucking his head under Derek’s chin. “Oh.” He pulls away suddenly and rolls to the edge of the bed, leaning over to rummage around underneath it. Sitting back up, he holds out a present wrapped in brightly coloured paper. “Happy birthday.”

Derek sits up against the pillows and takes the parcel. “Thank you.”

“I got you a Christmas present too,” Stiles says. “But you can’t open it until we get to Dad’s.” He gestures for Derek to unwrap the paper. “It’s not much.”

“It’s perfect.”

#ravenclawkward-art #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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hamiltalian-creates · 5 years

Text

I had an idea and made a Hamilton Omegaverse one shot. No smut, just pining.

Summary: John Laurens is an omega getting ready to start his first year at college, until he meets his roommates.

Pairings: Thaurens, Laurette

Warnings: Brief mention of domestic abuse

Words: 2,466

In a world where people had such labels as alphas and omegas, where people were basically labeled as dominants or submissives, the worst luck an omega could have is to be forced to live with another alpha. Unfortunately, this was a somewhat common tactic for scaring omegas into staying out of places that weren’t seen as their own, namely college. Sure it may have been recently illegal to deny them a college education all together, but if they happened to get paired with a roommate that they couldn’t handle during the mandatory dorm placements freshman year, so be it. Typically, it was pretty difficult to find the rare female alpha to pair with their omega counterparts and it was pretty rare that they had to find an alpha to pair with the just-as-rare omega males, but when it could be done, omegas were quickly reminded that they weren’t wanted.

Omega male, John Laurens, was unlucky enough to be paired with two.

Of course, he didn’t realize it at first. He had a perfect GPA, hours and hours of extracurriculars and community service hours, a few part time jobs, and a squeaky clean record. In his three bedroom apartment style dorm, he hoped that at least one of his roommates would be a beta, a neutral party who may or may not stop the alpha from attacking.

In fact, John was excited. He didn’t expect anything to be easy, but getting accepted into a university was no easy feat. He let his ego get the best of him, actually excited as his family helped him move his things into his room, despite his mom’s constant worry.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?... You have your pepper spray, don’t you? And the knife under your pillow?”

John nodded. “And the taser in my pocket and the bat that I’ll keep beside my bed.”

“Where by the bed?”

“Between the mattress and the wall, where it can’t be seen.”

“Good boy..” She kissed his forehead and sighed. “I’m sorry.. You know what they do to us..”

“Not all of them,” he pointed out. “Hank and James would never.” He looked over at his brothers as they helped with the heavier boxes. “You never know, whatever roommate I have can be like them.”

“Or they can be like... You know..”

John’s father. His biological father, to be specific. His mother left for her current husband, John’s step father, when she was pregnant with Martha, when John was about 4, but he still remembered how cruel of a man he was. Henry Laurens was far from perfect, but he was much better than the man he replaced.

“I’m going to be okay, mom... I promise.”

“I hope you’re right..”

Eventually, John calmed her down enough for her and his siblings to leave him be, to unpack and set up his room. He was opening the third box of blankets and pillows when the smell hit him.

Two scents, actually. Two scents that were so similar that John almost didn’t notice the difference, until they got closer. His eyes widened in shock and he scrambled for his bag, quickly grabbing his trusty rubber door stopper and shoving it beneath his door before crawling away, towards the nest he made against the center of the back wall. He sprayed it in as much scent blocker as he could before crawling inside, hoping he’d worked fast enough.

Outside, one of the two brothers paused, catching the sweet scent in the air. “Thomas?..”

The other one put down his box and sighed. “Yeah?”

“Did you catch that smell just now?”

“No. What, is our third roommate here already?” He began walking towards the third door in the apartment, stopped by a tight grip on his wrist.

“Yes.. And there’s a reason I’m bringing up scent.”

Thomas seemed confused, more so by the implication than the riddle it was hidden in. “You can’t be right. Who would put two alphas with an omega? He could be killed.”

“I don’t know, but I know an omega scent when I catch one.” Any alpha could and Lafayette was no exception. “Let’s just get moved in for now. We don’t need to scare him by approaching so soon.”

“You’re right.. Alright, let’s just get to work.”

The two alphas spent the rest of the day getting their boxes moved into their respective rooms and unpacked, only stopping for a quick lunch, then dinner once they were done.

“Hey.. Laf?”

“Yes?”

Thomas looked down at his plate. “Have you seen our roommate all day?..”

Lafayette quickly caught on. “No.. You think he’s hungry?”

“There’s no way he isn’t.. I know it’s a bad idea to go up to an omega in his safe place, but...”

“Yeah... Plus, if we’re going to be living with him, it’s best if we introduce ourselves sooner rather than later.”

Thomas nodded. “Lets try to talk to him. You first, I assume.”

As the one with slightly less harsh scent, Lafayette was easily less intimidating. So, he approached his new roommate’s door, knocking quietly.

John jumped as he heard the sound, hiding the snack stash that he had prepared for such emergencies. He ever so slightly poked his head out of his nest, waiting to hear what happened next.

Lafayette began speaking as soon as he caught his scent. “Um... Hi. My name is Lafayette and I’m one of your roommates.. I just thought you might want some food, my brother and I got Chinese takeout.”

Brothers. That explained the close scent. Now, John wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t going to just immediately open the door, but if he was going to keep his snacks hidden, he had to be hungry now. So, he moved a bit further out of the nest, keeping a tight grip on his pepper spray.

Lafayette smiled softly and took a step back. “We’d appreciate it if you could come out and maybe meet us?.. No contact, no saying things you don’t want, just getting to know you’re roommates... I just figure better sooner than later..”

John hesitated to respond that time, thinking it through. On one hand, he was going to be alone with two alphas. On the other hand, maybe they weren’t so bad? Some alphas would just knock the door down. But maybe they were trying to trick him.. He did have pepper spray hidden up his sleeve.

Lafayette smiled to himself as the third bedroom door opened, a fairly small boy their age standing there. “It’s nice to meet you face to face. I like your freckles..”

John smiled awkwardly. Great... He was an alpha and he was hot. John could hear the rumors already. “Thanks.. I heard there was food?”

“Of course.” He nodded back towards the kitchen area where Thomas was sitting in front of a plate of food, waving his fork at the stranger that finally came out.

And of course the other brother was just as attractive. John waved back and waited for Lafayette to step away before following him to the kitchen, keeping his distance as he fixed his own plate and sat down.

“So...” the second brother began. “I’m Thomas. You’ve met Lafayette. What’s your name?”

“It’s John,” he replied simply before beginning to eat. Certain omegas generally had notoriously slow metabolisms, so it wasn’t everyday John got to enjoy something so greasy. Besides, he had to focus on something to keep himself from looking up.

“It’s nice to meet you, John,” Thomas replied. “Um... Major? Mine is English and Laf’s is pre-nursing.”

“Education. Art minor..” John shrugged.

Thomas looked at his brother, expecting him to ask a question and being met instead with a version of him that he rarely saw. The way he leaned forward in his seat, the way too relaxed expression, Lafayette was smitten with the boy in front of them. And while Thomas couldn’t blame him, John was clearly attractive, an alpha wanting the attention of an omega just oozed pheromones and that could be trouble. So... Thomas gently shoved him out of his seat, cringing as he heard him crash.

John jumped out of his chair at the sound and put his left arm back, letting the pepper spray slide into his hand as he assessed the situation. As soon as he realized that Lafayette simply fell out of his chair, John let himself relax a bit and went to help him instinctively. His brothers were troublemakers, John was always helping them off of the ground.

Lafayette groaned and sat up, quickly realizing what his brother had done and why. Thomas was right to do so, they didn’t want to scare the poor omega out of the room that quickly. “I’m sorry, I guess I misjudged-” Before he could finish his half assed excuse, there was a hand in Lafayette’s and a surprisingly strong pull helping him to his feet. He stumbled a bit before looking back down at John, despite the unmistakable blush that he was sure was on his face now. “Wow, you’re stronger than you look..”

John shrugged a bit, not wanting to let them know about all of the self defense that he learned from his mom and how easily he could apply it to other settings. “I have two brothers. Alphas,” he said instead, leaving out the rest of the truth, including that his brothers were much younger than him.

Lafayette nodded. “Makes sense. I just wasn’t expecting that.” Alpha and omega dynamics didn’t matter between siblings. It wasn’t uncommon for an omega brother to wrestle around with his alpha brother or for an alpha sister to let herself be as soft as one would expect her omega sister to be, so of course Lafayette didn’t question it. He got back onto his seat and watched as John did the same. Once the omega was looking back down at his plate, Lafayette glanced at his brother and nodded in thanks.

Thomas returned the gesture and glanced back over at John. “So.. Any sisters? It’s just the two of us in our family, but what about you?”

John fought the urge to rant on and on about his family. “Two sisters. Younger.” One omega and one who hadn’t presented yet, but they didn’t need to know that.

“How sweet,” Lafayette hummed. “I’m obviously not an only child, but I have always wondered what it’d be like with a big family like that.”

“It’s pretty loud, that’s for sure..” John commented, a small smile on his face. “And we’re all pretty close, but the fighting can get out of hand pretty quickly.” With two alphas among them, plus a sibling their age who hadn’t presented, their rough and toughness quickly spread amongst the five siblings, just as John and the eldest of the two sisters, Martha, had spread their sense of compassion. Mixed households were always fun like that, with both of the main dynamics being able to share traits.

“It sounds interesting, to say the least,” Thomas nodded. The two of them were lucky enough to be raised by parents with modern values, ones who didn’t mind teaching their alpha sons that it was still okay to cry or be soft and who taught them to respect others regardless of dynamics. Not everyone was so lucky and that’s what made John essentially a winner of the roommate lottery.

John nodded and continued eating, interrupted by his phone ringing a minute later. He pulled it out of his pocket and smiled when he saw that his mom was calling. “I’ll be right back.” He hopped down from the table and went to his bedroom before answering the call. “Hello?”

As soon as he was gone, Thomas looked over at his brother, back to see that he was able to compose himself. “You’re going to throw yourself into an early rut.” It was a fairly common accident amongst alphas like Lafayette who so easily grew emotions and had trouble hiding them. In fact, it had gotten Lafayette into trouble a few times before.

“I’m not going to do that, I can manage my own emotions.” Lafayette ignored how Thomas rolled his eyes. “He’s just... He’s so adorable..”

“You know what’s not adorable? An omega who’s locked himself in his room because his new roommates are falling into ruts over him. Besides, you don’t even know if he’s gay.”

Lafayette huffed and decided to turn the tables on this interrogation. “How do I know that you don’t just want him for yourself?”

Now, it was Thomas’s turn to go bright red. That surely wasn’t his end goal, but.. He definitely wouldn’t have rejected the guy. “I’m trying to get you not to freak yourself out over him. If I wanted him for myself, I’d let you go scare him off.”

“No you wouldn’t because then he’d think the same of you.”

Thomas stood up to get in his brother’s face, stopping as he felt a hand hit his chest.

“Wait..” Lafayette began. “Wait, no, fighting like this would be worse than starting a rut.”

Lafayette sucked at controlling his romantic emotions, but he wasn’t nearly as bad about his anger.

Thomas sighed and backed down, taking his seat again. “You’re right.. We can find a way to settle this that doesn’t involve fighting.”

“Right. We may be twins, but we’re not the same person. Whoever he likes better, he can decide for himself.”

“And no matter who he chooses, whether or not it’s one of us, we’ll accept it.”

Lafayette nodded. “Obviously.”

With an ear pressed against his door, John blushed madly. The brothers had been quick to put a stop to their fighting, but it wasn’t quick enough to keep John from noticing the hostility in the air. “They’re fighting over me,” he told his mom. “Like... They’re not fighting so they won’t scare me and they’ll let me decide. Mom, what do I do?!” John didn’t have the most active love life, especially not one involving alphas.

But the news actually put his mom at ease. An alpha with emotional involvement wouldn’t think of hurting the omega. And for a pair of them to stop fighting over John simply to not freak him out was definitely a sign of emotional involvement.

“I think you’re going to be okay.. You’re a smart boy, Jackie, you’ll figure it out.”

John sighed, feeling a bit of pressure over this kind of decision, but feeling relaxed at hearing how unafraid his mom sounded for him. “Thanks, mom..”

“Anytime. I’ll let you go now. Bye, Johnny..”

“Bye, mom..” He sighed as the call ended, leaning back against his door. Maybe he didn’t have to worry too much about his safety, but he did have another problem on his hands.

How the hell was he going to choose?

#hamilton #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #john laurens #thomas jefferson #lafayette #laurette #thaurens #omegaverse

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jinkisbelly · 7 years

Text

Queasy - 2

Rating: Pg, a little angst but like Jinki snapping at his mother-in-law angst

pairing: onkey

w/c: about 2.8k

First part here [x], also can read on aff if you wish [x]

Jinki’s day with Kibum’s mother is even more uncomfortable than he had anticipated.

Warning, omegaverse and mpreg and all that ^-^

Jinki was gently unpacking their suitcase when Kibum slipped behind him, arms soft around his middle and chin on his shoulder as he quietly asked, “You’re not mad at me for slipping our secret are you?”

He leaned into the embrace, hand falling over Kibum’s big ones on his stomach. “Not at all. I do wish it was later like we planned, but I couldn’t be mad at you for it. You were just excited.”

“I was,” Kibum said cutely, nuzzling against Jinki’s neck. “I’m just so ready to meet our nugget.”

“We have long ways to go for that,” Jinki squinted at the open suitcase. “Besides, they would have realized tomorrow when I’m running to the bathroom 40 times before lunch. Your mother’s perfume is completely gross.”

Kibum chuckled, swaying them a little, “Tomorrow is going to be interesting. You have to go with her and the other omegas.”

Jinki whined, “Come with.”

“My mother would skin me alive,” Jinki turned in the hold and pouted up at him, “Don’t look at me like that. You know how it is here.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Jinki scowled, “I thought once you got pregnant people did things you wanted.”

“If it makes you feel better tomorrow night they’re going to do the course,” Jinki’s fingers were playing with the gap between Kibum’s lower back and his jeans. “I know how much you wanted to see it the last few times.”

“Could I participate!?” Kibum could see the excitement blooming on his face.

“You can take my spot,” He said before kissing the tip of Jinki’s nose. “They usually ask me to be the runner. I’ll wait for you at the finish line as you kick their ass Baby.”

Jinki shivered, “If I make it through your mom’s perfume torture.”

Kibum was laughing as Jinki pulled away from him to finish unpacking. He went to grab his hoodie from the bed and handed it to Jinki. “If it is really bad just put this over your nose. It should help with our nugget induced queasiness.”

Jinki brought it to his nose and relaxed. “Our nugget is a bad little nugget.”

“Only for a little while longer hopefully.” Kibum wrapped his arms around him, Jinki's own and the hoodie squished between them. “Hey, tomorrow morning I’ll make you pancakes.”

Jinki perked up, “Pancakes?”

“With Strawberries and my mom's freshly squeezed orange juice.”

Kibum snorted when Jinki's tummy rumbled. With pink cheeks, the Omega softly said, “I’ve always been always hungry.”

“Let’s get to bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”

Jinki groaned at the thought of a day full of Kibum’s mom and her stinky perfume of choice.

------

When Jinki woke up the other side of the bed was cool with the lack of Kibum’s body heat to warm it up. The curtains were gently blowing in the breeze coming through the open window and by the little light coming through the glass he figured it was still early morning. He was debating whether to figure out where his mate was or just going back to bed when the door to the room was gently opened. His eyes were only half open with how sleepy he was still, but he could recognize Kibum’s scent completely asleep. “Pancakes?” Jinki asked in a soft, slightly slurred voice.

Kibum chuckled as he kicked the door closed. “I wanted to make you breakfast before everyone in the house was awake and wouldn’t leave me alone. Here you go, Baby.”

“They’re tiny,” Jinki softly said as the tray was laid over his thighs.

With gentle movements to not knock over the orange juice on the tray, Kibum managed to curl into Jinki, lips pressed against the skin right before his ear, eyes fluttering close. “You like small things.”

“You’re gonna make me cry one of these days with the cute tiny things,” Jinki grumbled as he stabbed one after getting a few strawberries on his fork. Kibum laughed and kissed his hair. “What time is it anyway?”

“Just before 7,” Kibum took a small drink from the orange juice and passed the cup to Jinki so he could get some too, “Mom was up getting the food ready for the big dinner tonight.”

“I really don’t want to go today.”

“I tried to talk to her,” Kibum frowned, “She got angry I even brought up the thought you might not want to go out in a basically foreign reservation with people that are mostly strangers. All I’m going to be doing today is working on making sure the course is safe to use tonight. If you need me for anything I’ll come running. My mother be dammed.”

“Thank you.” Jinki continued eating for a moment before he asked, “What’s the possibility I get back here after without having anything bought for me?”

“To be honest, Baby,” Kibum sighed, “We’re gonna need another suitcase.”

“Babe, listen, I get that you’re from wealth,” Jinki put his fork down with a deep breath, “But I am not. As much as I know your Mother’s intentions are good, I feel guilty about the idea of your parents buying us anything more than something for a baby shower if we ever had one. It doesn’t feel right to me.”

“Before you leave I’ll tell her to calm it down a little,” Kibum swiped a little pancake and continued after he swallowed, “You’re a part of this family now Jinki. This is their first grandchild. We live simply, but simple isn’t in my family’s vocabulary. Try to allow them to take care of you. Of both of you.”

“I’ll try.”

Kibum gently pulled his jaw to face him, pressing their lips together softly, “That’s all I ask, Baby.”

------

Standing in the middle of a small baby boutique with his mate’s mother was not Jinki’s idea of a fun time. Pregnant or not. At least at the candle shop, he found one of his favorite scents and just focused on that one the entire time to make it more of a pleasant experience. He was very excited about his black cherry candle. In the middle of this store, all he smelled was the perfume from hell, baby powder and stuffed animal fluff. There was a small, soft sea turtle plush in one of the displays to the right of the entrance that caught his attention. His mother-in-law had beelined straight for the clothes, but the little turtle pulled at him. He cupped the small thing in his hands and a soft smile spread across his face.

He crossed his arms across his chest, the stuffed animal held against his chest by them as he slowly moved away from the display to look at the rest of the place. His heart was in his throat when Kibum’s mother came from behind him and grabbed his upper arm, “Oh there you are! Come~ They have the cutest bassinets over here.”

Jinki swallowed thickly, “Alright.” He eyed the woman’s hand until it slid from him. He scrunched his nose up as he followed her.

“I think we should get one of this soft pink ones.” She smiled over her shoulder widely, “I have a feeling it’s going to be a girl.”

“We actually don’t really want to know,” Jinki scratched the back of his neck as he hesitantly as he continued, “The nursery is going to be blue because that’s our favorite color.” He smiled softly, “My brother’s mate is going to paint an ocean scene on one of the walls.”

Her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I’ll have to talk to my son about that.”

“We made the decision together,” Jinki said quietly, annoyance growing in him, running his hand over the cloth of the nearest bassinet. “The shade is already picked out and everything.”

Jinki frowned deeply as the woman scoffed at his words and continued to look at pink things. He held onto his stuffed turtle, walked the other way and hoped he could stay away from his mother-in-law for the rest of the afternoon. It was way easier said than done with how small the shop was. He found a rocking chair and sighed as he laid back against it and pushed off the floor. His eyes were slowly closing when he felt the hands on his shoulders as she happily said, “I found the perfect crib. It comes with pink lace trim.”

“I would really appreciate buying the big things like that with Kibum.”

“Oh nonsense,” She squeezed his shoulders and the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach twisted. “Alpha’s never like this type of stuff.”

“But that doesn’t mean they don’t get a say,” Jinki moved away from her, as his voice rose. “And would you please for the love of all things godly, stop TOUCHING me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want you touching me. It makes me feel uncomfortable. Kibum told you last night, I reminded you this morning, but like everything else I’ve said you didn’t respect me enough to actually listen to what I was saying.” Jinki growled, “You may be able to order Kibum around because he loves you enough to follow your idiotic traditions, but I and our child will not.”

She stared at him with wide eyes, jaw slack in shock, as he turned to pay for the stuffed animal in his hand. Soon enough he was slipping from the store and pulling his phone from his pocket. He pushed the quick contact widget he had on his home screen for Kibum, and after a few rings the Alpha picked it up obviously out of breath. “Hey Baby. Everything okay?”

“No, not really.” Jinki’s fingers curled around the paper handle of the bag in his hand, “Could you come get me? I’m not exactly sure where I am.”

“Of course, I’ll be there shortly.” Kibum’s voice was distant for a moment as he said something to the people around him, before he returned to his phone, “Are you still at the baby boutique?”

“Just outside.”

“Give me ten minutes Baby.”

“Thank you.” The phone clicked over and Jinki slid to the ground. His head thunked against the brick wall behind him as his eyes closed. How dare she think she had such a say in their baby’s life to say their father wouldn’t want to be apart of it all because of his classification. If their plane tickets weren’t already bought he would be willing to drive across the country just to be back home at this point.

-----

He opened his eyes when he smelled his mate, the tell tale sign of his cologne reaching his nose before he could hear the man calling his name. Before he knew it Kibum was standing in front of him offering his hands down to help him up. He pressed a kiss to Jinki’s cheek and it was when his Alpha asked him, “What happened Baby?” Did panic take over his heart over what had happened.

Would he be mad at him for snapping at his mother? “I-” Kibum sensed the shift in his emotions quickly. He put his hands on Jinki’s shoulders and smiled softly at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happened it’s okay.”

“I yelled at your mother,” Jinki whispered.

“How come?”

“She kept pointing out pink things to buy because she thinks we’re gonna have a girl and didn’t listen when I told her we already have it all planned and that we didn’t care what we were having... And she just kept touching me. She wasn’t respecting me or my wishes, and she was belittling how involved you are in this pregnancy with me,” Jinki huffed, “It all added up and I just blew up. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Kibum quickly wrapped his arms around him, kissing the top of his head before softly saying, “Why would I be mad at you? You stood up for yourself. I’m sorry I made you go.”

Jinki sniffled gently as he said, “I got a new candle and a pretty turtle plush.”

“You know what’s just around the corner?”

“Hmm?” Jinki perked up, pulling away just enough to look up at him.

“The best bakery in the reservation.” Kibum smiled, “I’ll talk to my mother later, but how about we go get something. I bet you’re hungry.”

“Okies.”

As they headed down the street Kibum softly asked, “Lemme see the turtle.”

“Ah,” Kibum guided him as he fidgeted with his bags to pull out the pastel green plush. He held it up proudly. “It called to me.”

“Nugget is going to love it.”

“You think?”

“I know so,” Kibum’s fingers were comfortably tight on his waist, “Come now, brownies and macarons await.”

-----

By the time they finally arrived home it was past dark, the moon high in the sky above them. When they walked in Kibum’s mother was in the kitchen, ordering the other people of the house to go set the big table outside. She looked over when the door opened and Jinki swallowed thickly. At the opening of the hallway, Kibum kissed his cheek and patted his butt, “Go get ready for dinner.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Kibum smiled softly, “I’ll join you soon.”

Jinki took the bags from Kibum’s hands and headed back to their room with one last worried glance between the two. Once he was sure Jinki was in his room he turned toward his mother. She smiled up at him, “I was starting to get worried you were going to be late for dinner.”

“Can we talk for a moment, Mom?”

“Of course, Sweetie,” She rubbed her hands on her apron as she turned to face him fully, “Whatever about?”

“I understand this is your first grandchild and that you’re excited, but how we prepare for the baby is up to Jinki and I.” Kibum walked the rest of the way into the kitchen. “He’s sorry for snapping at you, but he had every right to.”

“Excuse me, I didn’t think he was raised to disrespect his elders.”

“He wasn’t, but when you completely ignore the things he’s saying about our baby and touching him when he doesn’t want to he has a right to stick up for himself.”

“I just wanted to buy pretty things for my grandbaby.”

“I know Mom.” Kibum smiled softly. It faded as he continued, “I would have loved to go today. I like being involved with everything, but you never thought to ask me if I did because I was an alpha and apparently that automatically made me want nothing to do with the preparation.” He paused when his brother came in to pick another dish up off the counter. Once he was gone he continued, “We may have a girl, we may have a boy, or we may have a child who is neither of those things or a mixture of both. We don’t know, nor do we want to force them into a box. That’s how we choose to go about this. I hope you can respect that.”

“That’s just... Strange.”

“To some be loving a man is strange, but I still love him.”

She sighed after a while, “I’ll try.”

Kibum walked over to gently hug her, “Thank you. I’ll be out shortly after I clean up.”

When he returned to their room Jinki was coming from their bathroom gently patting his face dry with a towel. He smiled widely when Kibum came over, but it took him a minute to recuperate the kiss laid upon him out of shock. When Kibum pulled away Jinki softly chuckled, “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry for not sticking up for you earlier when you said you didn’t want to go.”

“It’s okay Babe,” Jinki lifted his hand to rub Kibum’s cheek with his thumb as he cupped his jaw. “You love your mother and just want to make her happy. I understand.”

“You were uncomfortable and I made you go to make it easier on me, and in the process caused you stress.” Kibum kissed his forehead. “We’re a team. I forgot that for a moment when I was suddenly in the position of a son again.”

“Thank you for apologizing,” Jinki smiled and pushed up to kiss Kibum softly, “You’re forgiven.”

“Give me five minutes and we’ll go eat.”

As Kibum moved to walk around him Jinki grabbed his wrist and stopped him gently. “One more.”

Kibum smiled fondly as he cupped Jinki’s face and kissed him slowly. “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

----

#onkey #onew #key #shinee #jinkibum #queasy au

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stereksecretsanta · 4 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @vyxynheartssterek!

Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy :)

Read on AO3

*****

Soulmates and Coffee

Beacon Hills, it seemed, hadn’t changed at all. It took Derek twenty minutes to make it from the airport to the town limit. He watched as the buildings of the bustling city merged seamlessly into trees; their long shadows cast against the road from the occasional streetlight.

If he tried hard enough, he could smell the familiar scent of home through the dirty air filter of the rental car.

The car lurched as it hit the first pothole.

Derek smiled at the familiarity. He could still hear his mother cursing up a storm when she had hit the same one and got a flat tire. He and Laura had been stranded in the back seat with nothing but a yo-yo to keep themselves amused as she tried to figure out how to put on the spare.

No matter how many times the darn pothole was paved, it came back each year with a vengeance and had become an unfortunate landmark amongst the Beacon Hill community.

He merged onto the main street.

It was still dark this early in the early morning. The redeye flight had been the only one available on short notice. His eyes burned, but the thrill of home kept him going.

It’d been a long time since he last drove these streets. Four years at a university in New York with mainly phone calls and Skype to keep in contact with his family. Of course, they all came out to see him graduate last spring, but that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Laura had stayed with him for a couple weeks a few years back. He had showed her around the city, taken her to all his favorite places, and even some that weren’t his favorites but that he thought she’d enjoy. She liked the city in a distant sort of way, saying that it was pretty but not for her, and that she was needed back home.

He flexed his fingers around the unfamiliar wheel of the car.

Laura’s trip was the first time he’d heard about their new emissary, Stiles. She told him he was nice, and friendly with a mischievous streak a mile wide that kept everyone on their toes. She was supposed to spend time with him since she was to be the next alpha. She needed to trust him and his judgement, and he her.

He was looking forward to meeting this new person. Having been born and raised out here he felt like he knew everyone, at least in passing. But the name Stiles didn’t ring any bells. And no one in his family elaborated on who exactly he was.

He smiled, gently weaving between a string of potholes, proud of himself for remembering where they were. Maybe he could save a little bit of damage to the poor car.

The clock on the dash flicked to the hour. 4am.

He tapped his thumbs against the wheel.

The pack wouldn’t be awake yet. Even Peter wouldn’t be up for another hour. But, he supposed, that just meant he’d have time to unpack in peace before getting ambushed with attention. Cora was convinced he was bringing her something back from New York.

He smiled, imagining her face when she opened the bag containing a T-shirt stating that someone who loved her went to New York and only brought back “this shirt”.

He passed the high school on his right. It looked the same, yet off at the same time. He squinted for just a second longer as he placed the oddity; the building had been extended. He could see the off color brick where the new portion started.

Just past the school, a building complex came into view. This one hadn’t been there when he was here last. He frowned, trying to make out which signs were posted above the doors when the car lurched.

Derek swore, gripping the wheel and jerking it to keep the car straight.

The steady thumping of a flat tire filled the air.

He slapped the hazzards, pulling into the parking lot of the complex he’d been examining.

The cruel irony made him grimace. He sat, listening to the hum of the engine and the chirping of crickets. He’d have to put on the spare.

He tugged the key from the ignition and brushed his thumb across the soulmark on his left wrist. It was a habit he’d developed when the mark appeared, a romantic at heart, the slight touch calmed him, reminding him that someone special was out there, somewhere. It was a couple shades lighter than his skin tone, the triple spirals he knew represented him were tucked inside an explosion of lines, each one fanning outward in a different direction. He used to call it a firework.

The mark had appeared when he was sixteen, like it did almost everyone else in the world, and he would be blatantly lying if he ever said he hadn’t hoped of meeting his soulmate in New York. Beacon Hills seemed like too small of a place to meet anyone that significant, and a part of him believed by moving to a bigger city the chances of running into them were greater. But here now, nearly ten years later, he still hadn’t met them. Which was fine, he supposed, some people didn’t meet their soulmates until they were older. His mom was in her thirties when she met hers.

He opened the car door, stepping out into the cold air. Whoever his soulmate was probably wasn’t out at this hour anyway and he wanted to get home.

He walked to the back of the car and popped the trunk, levering out his rolling suitcase so he could access the compartment that held the spare. He lifted the flap, and stared into the empty space.

The jack was where it should be, tucked away in the crevice that looked designed to hold it, the tool to loosen the bolts was also there, and even some reflective cones. But there was no tire.

He sighed and tugged his phone from his pocket. He didn’t want to wake anyone up, he’d specifically told them all that he was familiar with the area and was more than capable of driving himself home. He glared at the back tire.

With only a second’s hesitation, he called Peter. He frowned as the phone continued to ring. More than likely Peter had his phone on Do Not Disturb. Even the gentle vibration of phones would wake any of them up, but Peter was usually up before sunrise anyway and would get the message soon enough. If he were desperate, he could always walk.

The phone kicked him to voicemail, Peter’s voice told him to leave a message if it was something that couldn’t be sent through text.

He smiled. “Hey, Uncle Peter. I hit one of the potholes on Main and apparently a spare tire is extra in the car rental industry.” He chuckled. “But, uh, yeah, I’m in the parking lot outside-” he squinted at the closest sign on the building. “Merry Meet Coffee and Tea, if you wouldn’t mind picking me up when you wake up, that’d be great. Thank you!”

He hung up and looked back at the sign. Merry Meet Coffee and Tea was new, and the blue and red neon sign proclaimed they were open. Sitting inside and drinking coffee sure beat sitting in the car for an hour.

He loaded his luggage back into the trunk and shut it, then began his way across the lot.

A bell tied to the inside handle jingled when he pushed the door open.

The cafe was simple with a woodsy feel. Wooden tables sat scattered throughout the room, their legs twisting and reaching out and down to the floor like tree roots. The tall back chairs were styled similarly. Plants hung from holders on the ceiling, and a few paintings of forest scenery decorated the walls.

It was a fitting theme for Beacon Hills.

A short haired young man looked up from a stack of books at a corner table. His brow twitched just slightly as he tried to orientate himself back to his surroundings, having been yanked from his thoughts at Derek’s entry.

“Hello,” he greeted from habit. Then his expression lightened and he smiled, rising from his seat. “What can I get for you?” He left his books on the table, careful to check the page number of the book he was on before closing it.

Derek watched as he made his way around the counter and over to the register. He could now see the small logo of a tree and the name of the shop embroidered on the chest of his shirt.

“Just a cup of black coffee, please.” Derek smiled, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He handed over his debit card and looked around again. “This is a nice shop, it wasn’t here last time I was in town.”

“It’s my mom’s, I help her out sometimes and come in early.” The young man swiped his card, then looked back at him. “Where are you from?”

“Here.” Derek smiled, watching the way the man’s eyes narrowed in thought as he tried to place who Derek was. “I was born and raised here, but I’ve been studying in New York for the last four years. I’m Derek Hale.”

The man’s eyes widened sightly in surprise, then a smile lit his face. “I can see that now. I knew you back in grade school.”

Now it was Derek’s turn to frown; grade school had been a long time ago.

The grin slowly widened across his face. “Back then I went by Mischief.”

“Scott’s friend!” Derek announced, sudden memories of the two boys hanging out with Cora coming back to him. They had come to a few of her birthday parties, and if he remembered correctly, had been suspended together at some point for disrupting class with a prank on April Fools Day.

“That’s me,” Mischief grinned, reaching down to grab a cup.

“How’s your mom doing?” Derek asked, stepping down the length of the counter out of habit; it wasn’t like there was anyone behind him.

“She’s great! She’ll actually be in shortly, I have a class that starts at seven.” He grabbed the carafe and filled the cup. “She’s excited to see you again. The whole pack’s excited you’re home.”

Derek nodded. “I’m excited to be home.”

Claudia had been Talia’s emissary since before he was born; the two had been childhood friends growing up and once Claudia came into her spark it seemed only natural for her to take the roll.

Mischief held the cup out to him.

Derek took it, then jolted back when their fingers brushed, a shock reverberating through his soul, causing all the hair on his arms to stand on end. There, on his outstretched wrist, his soulmark flared silver.

Mischief leapt back as well, gripping his left wrist in shock.

They stared at each other over the spilled coffee.

“Well,” Mischief said softly, eyes still wide, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.” He uncurled his fingers, twisting his wrist to see his soulmark.

It was the same triple spiral and firework that marked Derek’s own skin.

“Same,” Derek nodded. He righted the cup that had fallen and tipped when they’d jerked back, and looked around, scanning the room for napkins.

“I got it,” Mischief said.

Derek looked back at him in time to see him raise his hands. The spilled coffee shifted, beading into hundreds of droplets, and rising into the air. He watched as they hovered across the counter to a sink and splashed inside.

“You’re magic?” Derek asked, belatedly chastizing himself; what else could that have been? A stage trick?

“A spark.” Mischief swiped the cup off the table and into the trash, reaching for a fresh one. “Like my mom. The class I’m going to later is about control, hopefully I’ll be learning more complex spells soon, but magic is tricky.” He poured Derek a cup and reached for another for himself. “It’s like magic has a mind of its own, that’s why it takes so long to learn.”

Derek nodded. “My family just took on a new emissary, he’s supposed to be Laura’s emissary when she becomes alpha. Magic is a lot of responsibility.”

Stiles stilled, his head tilting just slightly as he set the kuraff back. “Do you know who it is?”

“No.” Derek took a tentative sip of the drink, wincing when it burned his tongue. It was good, it made the airport coffee taste like swamp water. “I didn’t recognize his name, and I’m pretty sure I know everyone in Beacon Hills. He probably moved here recently.”

Mischief chuckled. “What’s his name?” He stepped out from behind the counter, motioning Derek over to his table of books.

“Stiles. Do you know him?”

Mischief’s eyes gleamed. “I’d like to think I do.”

“You’re close then?” Derek asked, ready to seize the moment and ask about what his family’s new emissary was like.

“Oh yeah.” Mischief stacked his books and placed them on the table behind them. “Scott and Cora are friends with him.”

“What’s he like?”

Mischief hummed. “I think he’s pretty smart, and clever. According to Laura sometimes sarcastic.” He sipped his coffee. “You planning on staying in town just long enough to meet him?”

Derek shook his head, running his thumb along the leaf pattern on the cup. “I’m home for good now. Living out there was a good experience, but I’d like to be home for a little while now.”

Mischief nodded, setting his cup down. “I’ve thought about traveling.”

Derek looked up quickly. He wouldn’t dare ask his soulmate to not pursue his dreams, but the thought of him leaving soon after meeting stung. He wanted a chance to get to know him. He made sure to keep his voice even when he asked, “Why don’t you?”

“I’ve got a lot of things going on here. Someday I’ll travel, but for now I’m happy learning magic here.” He smiled, flashing just a hint of teeth.

Derek relaxed, relief flooding him, quickly followed by guilt at his reaction. If Mischief wanted to travel, he could damn well travel. Maybe Derek could even go with him.

The jingle of the bell made both of them look up.

A lady walked in, her long hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“Hi Mom,” Mischief said, then motioned at Derek. “Derek’s back.”

Claudia’s eyes lit up, a smile creasing her face. She stepped up to the table, wrapping Derek into a warm hug. “Welcome home.” She released him and turned to Mischief, hugging him as well. When she was done, she looked back at Derek. “You’re mom invited Stiles and I over for a pack dinner tonight, but if you don’t feel up to it let us know and we can do it another night.”

Derek nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be fine after a nap, I just had an incident with the rental car and that slowed me down getting home.” He smiled. “It’ll be nice to meet him.”

Claudia frowned, casting a glance at Mischief, who looked up at her with total innocence.

“Would you mind if Mischief came as well?” He turned his wrist over to expose the soulmark. “I’d like to catch up with him.”

Surprise flooded Claudia’s face, quickly replaced by a grin. “Congratulations.” She looked at Mischief, her expression dropping into a scowl. “And you should have told him.”

“Told me what?” Derek asked, glancing between them in confusion.

Mischief wilted under her look. He looked up at Derek, smiling slowly. “I go by Stiles now.”

“You’re Laura’s emissary?” Derek blurted.

Mischief- no, Stiles held his hands out. “Surprise?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply when the bell jingled again, and Peter stepped into the cafe. His button up shirt and slacks made it look like he was on his way to a meeting rather than to rescue his nephew from a flat tire.

“You said you could get from the airport to home without incident.” Peter frowned only half-jokingly as he crossed the room to their table.

“On any normal day, I can. I’ve had a long night, Uncle Peter, just take me home please.” Derek shook his head slowly.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, concern rising in his tone.

“Of course.” Derek shrugged. “I hit one of the legion of potholes on Main, reconnected with a friend of Cora’s only to find out he’s my soulmate and Laura’s emissary, and now you’re being all Peter. But I’m good.” He smiled, trying to joke back, but his muscles were aching and tired; the sun was now creeping through the windows and he didn’t even want to look at a clock in case it confirmed he’d been awake for over twenty four hours. He needed sleep.

“Go get some rest, I’ll see you at dinner.” Stiles rose, holding out a hand to him.

Derek stood, taking it in his own. “Looking forward to it… Mischief.” He winked and sauntered past Peter; he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be bored anytime soon.

#vyxynheartssterek #stereksanta14 #*fics19 #*gifts17

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