Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Step by Step, We'll Get There	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: S through Z > Teen Wolf Views: 4677 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf nor profit of it. Jeff Davis owns it.

Chapter List
- 19
- 20
- 21
Author's note: This chapter was giving me a bit of trouble for some reason, but I somehow still managed to write nearly 5K for it. Apologies for the slight delay. Also this fic is officially one year old already! *sweatdrops* Time flies, damn.
Warnings: Some fluff, a bit of angst
A special thanks to Morgan_ReidismyOTP for giving me the idea for the date!
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 20
"I need your help," he blurted out as soon as the phone was picked up on the other end.
"Last time you needed my help, you almost died," Lydia said bluntly. "I'm not sure whether I'm feeling inclined to help you again after that."
He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that, but I swear there's no possibility of dying involved this time! Unless I completely embarrass myself and I die from shame – but at least it won't be from anything dangerous."
There was silence on the other end of the line before she heaved a deep sigh. "Okay, I bite: what the hell did you do this time?"
"I asked Derek out on a date."
"And? Good job, got yourself quite a looker there. Don't see what that has to do with me unless you want my opinion about him."
"I've got no idea what we can do for our first date," he groaned and sank down on his bed. "I was hoping that maybe you could give me some tips?"
"You want me to give you tips for your first date with Hale," she said incredulously.
"When you put it like that, it does sound stupid," he said and grimaced. "But I've been thinking for hours about what we could do and I'm coming up with nothing!"
"When's the date planned?"
"Today, this afternoon."
Another lengthy silence, this time filled with a lot of judgment. "Your date is today and you're only calling me now?" she asked frostily.
"Look, I only asked him out yesterday and it's not like I wanted to wait too long to have our first date and yeah," he finished lamely, tugging at his hair. "Please, help me, I'm desperate here!"
"You're an idiot," she sighed. "I suppose a movie is out of the question? I'm going to assume you at least thought of that before calling me." The edge in her voice warned him that his answer better be yes.
"Of course I thought about that!" he retorted insulted. "But that's rather cliché and I'm trying to avoid clichés here. I want it to be memorable, you know?"
"A date with you would be memorable whatever you choose to do, Stiles," she said dryly.
He squinted. "Somehow I get the feeling that's not exactly meant as a compliment."
"Take it however you want," she said dismissively. "A picnic?"
"Eh." There was nothing wrong with a picnic, but it didn't feel special enough. It would be a good idea for a later date, but for a first one he needed something different.
"An amusement park?"
"Cliché, Lydia, remember?"
"Oh, for god's sake, fine," she snapped and was silent for a while then to the point that he was starting to wonder whether she was still on the phone or not.
"Lydia? You still there?"
"Aha! I've got it. If you don't like this idea, then you're most welcome to ask someone else," she said triumphantly. "Miniature golf."
"Miniature golf …" he repeated slowly and furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't even know how to play regular golf decently, and you want me to play that?"
"It's literally just a smaller version of regular golf – not even you can mess that up," she said exasperatedly.
"You have seen me play lacrosse, right? I'm not sure whether me playing golf, smaller version or not, would be a good idea," he said dubiously. Knowing his luck he would either knock himself out with the golf club or god forbid, Derek. He'd sustained and delivered enough injuries throughout his years of playing lacrosse to know that him and sports requiring any kind of stick and ball didn't really mix.
Her loud growl had him jumping even if the sound was slightly distorted. "Then let Derek teach you!"
"Can he play golf?" Derek didn't seem like the kind of guy who would regularly go out to play golf. Basketball or even baseball, yeah, he had no trouble imagining that, but golf?
"Of course he can play golf."
"How do you even know that?" he questioned bemused. As far as he could tell, Lydia and Derek had never interacted with each other – definitely not to the point when she would know something like that.
"His mother is the mayor and he accompanied her a couple of times to some charity events where they played that game. They report about every charity event the Hales attend, how could you not know that?" she chided him.
"Because I'm not very interested in charity events," he grimaced. He'd accompanied his dad to some in the past, but they had been so boring that he had eventually begged to be allowed to stay home.
"Well, that's on you. Now, miniature golf and Derek teaching you how not to knock someone out with the club, how does that sound?" she asked impatiently.
He tried to imagine it, him holding the club, the white ball right in front of him, and Derek – he'd probably stand behind him, wouldn't he? In order to teach him how to swing the club correctly. He'd be standing right behind him, maybe even grabbing his hands to put them in the right position and his body would be very close against his own, the wolf's heat seeping into his and …
He only became aware of the fact that he was spacing out – and almost drooling, ew – when Lydia started calling out his name in an increasingly more agitated manner. "Huh, sorry, what?"
"I wanted to know whether you think that's a good idea for a date, but I'm going to assume by your silence that you agree with it. You were imagining it already, weren't you?" she asked smugly.
"Maybe," he admitted begrudgingly before he grinned. "Thanks, Lydia! This will definitely make for a memorable first date!"
"Don't think I'm done with you yet," she said unimpressed and er, what? What did that even mean? "You called me for help, so I'm going to help you."
"But you already did – by giving me the idea," he said slowly, getting wary. He was starting to think it might not have been such a good idea after all to ask her for help.
"Oh, sweetheart, but I'm not done yet," she said condescendingly. "I'm going to help you get properly dressed for your first date. Dress to impress, remember?"
"What's wrong with my clothes?" he complained and looked down with a frown, staring at his faded Batman t-shirt, flannel shirt and his light brown chinos. What was wrong with that combination? "And wait, don't you need to leave tomorrow for university?"
"The fact that you even need to ask that first question proves you're in dire need of my assistance," she sniffed. "I don't have any packing left to do – as I don't procrastinate unlike some – so I have plenty of time left to help you find a decent outfit for this afternoon."
"Ehm, how are you going to help me find that?" he asked warily, hoping that she would just come over and riffle through his wardrobe. He'd take all the criticism about his clothes she would throw at him, as long as she didn't take him –
"We're going shopping, of course," she replied brightly and yeah, that was what he'd been afraid of.
"You know, we don't need to do that. I'm sure I've got some decent clothes here somewhere and –" he was cut off by an actual hiss, like an enraged cat would spit, and he immediately shut his mouth.
"We're going shopping and you're going to look amazing."
Only Lydia could manage to make a promise like that sound both so ominous and threatening at the same time.
"All right, just get out and ring the doorbell, that's all there is to it," he muttered underneath his breath, trying to psych himself up. His fingers were clenched around the steering wheel and he prayed he wouldn't start sweating through his new clothes before he would even get to the house. Lydia would kill him if he ruined the outfit.
"You've already kissed him, there's nothing to be nervous about," he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face, feeling way too frazzled. He'd known Derek for several years now, had even kissed him yesterday and had been all too happy when the older man had initially caught him during the Run – there was no reason to be this damn nervous about a date with the guy.
"Fuck this," he said, annoyed with himself, and pushed open the door. Before he stepped out, he patted Roscoe's steering wheel and whispered, "Don't give up on me today, okay, baby? I really need you to keep going today."
The last thing he could use today of all days was his car giving up on him again.
"Was already starting to think you were having second thoughts," Cora remarked when she opened the door before he could even ring the doorbell. She quirked an eyebrow and her eyes roved over his body in – was that in an appreciative manner? "You actually manage to clean up nicely if you want to."
He threw his hands up in frustration. "What is it with the women in my life criticising my clothes? There's nothing wrong with the way I dress!"
"Opinions differ about that," she told him bluntly before stepping out of the way. "He's all yours, brother."
Derek was rolling his eyes when he came into view. "Thanks, Cora."
Stiles could only stare as the older man walked towards him. He was dressed in dark jeans that seemed to have been painted on him, moulded as they were around his long legs. His Henley was a forest green, matching the green specks in his eyes, and his leather jacket was slung over his right arm. Oh god, Stiles had almost forgotten how hot Derek looked with that leather jackets.
Praise the gods for creating the seasons of autumn and winter, because it allowed him the glorious sight of Derek dressed in a leather jacket.
Shit, how the hell had he ever captured his interest in the first place?
"You look amazing," he blurted out before he could think twice and his cheeks reddened immediately.
The adorable pleased smile flitting across Derek's face did nothing for his poor frazzled nerves. "Thanks, you look really great too."
Stiles would have accused him of just returning the sentiment because he wanted to be polite, but he was highly aware of the way Derek's eyes burned a tad brighter when he looked at him, studying his outfit with keen interest. Thank the gods for Lydia Martin, because she had managed to create a miracle.
She'd forced him into several outfits – it wouldn't surprise him if he had ended up trying on more than fifty different ones in just a couple of hours – before eventually deciding that light blue jeans, a bit tighter than he normally wore, and a tight, red shirt would be the best combination. He'd felt quite self-conscious when looking at just how tight the shirt was – it seriously left nothing to the imagination – and had debated throwing a flannel shirt over it anyways, Lydia's threats be damned, but now looking at the way Derek's eyes flared with interest, he once again had to concede that she'd been right after all.
She always was. He really should just accept that fact.
"Have fun, you two," Cora smirked before sauntering deeper into the house, cackling.
Derek just sighed and flipped her the bird behind her back before shutting the door behind him. "Don't pay attention to her. Now, what do you have in mind for our date?"
Stiles grinned and beckoned him to follow him to his car, anticipation starting to squish his nerves. When they were both in the car and she'd started without too much grumbling – good girl, that was already a great beginning – he glanced at Derek and replied, "We're going to play miniature golf."
Hopefully without too many casualties.
Miniature golf turned out to be rather fun actually, even though it started drizzling as soon as they left the car. To be honest, in spite of accepting the idea, he'd had his doubts about it, wondering whether he wouldn't end up finding it boring to play.
Whether it was Derek's presence or just the game itself, Stiles had a lot of fun. They had to drive to the next town in order to play it, but it being the middle of the week, it meant that they basically had the whole court to themselves alone. There was only one other guy playing and he was far away enough that their date still felt private.
Derek was quite willing to teach him how to hold the club the best way and how to swing it without maiming either himself or Derek in the process. He actually had to teach Stiles a couple of times, because he kept spacing out the first few times, too distracted by Derek's body close to his and the way his hands covered his own. He'd never noticed until now that Derek's fingers were slightly ticker than his. His skin was also definitely more tanned from the summer than Stiles' own pale skin was. He thought he would come to like that colour contrast very much.
They ended the game when the drizzle turned into a light shower; Derek having won more games than Stiles did, but the Omega thought he'd held up quite nicely considering this was the first time he'd ever played a version of golf.
Derek directed them to a diner where they shared a large basket of curly fries and had the best, juicy hamburgers Stiles had eaten so far. This diner was definitely on his list to go back to if he was in need of something deliciously fried. Derek insisted on paying for their dinner, stating that Stiles had already paid for their game of golf and he was the one who'd chosen the diner. They argued about it for a little while and the sneaky bastard made use of Stiles' toilet break to quickly pay the bill.
Clearly there would be no toilet breaks for Stiles in the future anymore if he ever wanted to get the chance to pay the bill.
The fact that they had that kind of future now made him giddy enough to halt his protesting and instead he just smacked Derek's shoulder once in punishment.
Twilight had settled in by the time Stiles drove them back to the Hale house. The waxing moon was settling in the darkened sky, dipping the world in weak, faint silver light. The curtains in the house were drawn for the most part and from his position in the car, he could see shadows moving behind them, dark forms outlined in the gentle orange light. He wondered if any of them would peek outside; there was no way they hadn't heard his car after all.
"I had fun during our date," Stiles began, breaking the silence. Nerves started attacking him once more and he wished he had a hoodie on so that he could fiddle with the laces.
"Me too," Derek smiled to his relief and he twisted around in his seat to face Stiles.
"Enough for a second date?" Stiles asked hopefully and swallowed; his hands growing clammy. He wiped them off against his jeans, sending a silent apology to Lydia.
"I caught you during the Run and you're wondering whether I had fun enough for a second date?" Derek raised an eyebrow, giving him a deadpan look.
Stiles scowled. "The Run was months ago! That doesn't mean you want - "
For the second time in two days he was abruptly cut off by a pair of warm lips; a strong hand cradling the back of his neck. In the quietness of the car, the sound of their breathing seemed exceptionally loud; the seat squeaking a bit when Derek pressed closer to him. The gear stick dug uncomfortably in his thigh, but Stiles didn't care. Looping his arms around Derek's shoulders, he pressed himself as closely against him as the small space in the car allowed him, kissing him back eagerly.
Derek hummed and the soft vibrations made Stiles' lips tingle; when he parted them, the tip of a tongue touched his carefully, sending a shock through him. It made him tighten his arms around Derek's shoulders, his breathing quickening in anticipation. Heat started pooling in the pit of his stomach, but before things could become heated – and before he could contemplate climbing into Derek's lap – the older man pulled back, panting softly.
Stiles could only stare at the way hazel coloured eyes glittered, like all the stars had been plucked out of the sky to fill those eyes. He didn't even care that that sounded quite sappy.
"You're going to make a habit of interrupting me with a kiss?" he asked, a tad breathless. His arms were still around Derek's neck and his fingers played with the soft strands around his hairline.
"Not only to interrupt you," Derek smirked and then his eyes softened. He lowered his head for a lingering soft kiss. "I'm taking you out for the next date."
"Well, you've got my number," Stiles chuckled awkwardly, his cheeks feeling like they were flaming hot. He hoped he didn't look as flushed as he feared he did.
"I do." Derek's quick smile flashed up in the dark interior of the car and after a third kiss, a soft peck, he pulled back and pushed open the door with a bit more strength than normally should be required to open a car door, but Roscoe was special that way.
"I'll see you soon," he promised and stole another quick kiss before exiting the vehicle.
"You definitely will," Stiles said dazedly, watching Derek walk back to his house. Before he went inside, he turned around and waved, flashing another smile.
Pressing his fingers against his mouth, which was still tingling like mad as if he'd been zapped with electricity instead of having kissed, he watched the front door close. The rain started picking up again, plick, plick, plick on the roof, and he could only think one thing.
He was in so deep. Fuck.
Being with Derek made it easy to forget what kind of a shitfest the previous months had been.
When he was with Derek, he didn't think about Theo. He didn't think about how close he'd come to being shackled down by the man, didn't think about how close he'd been to losing Cora, to losing his freedom. With Derek's arms around him, it was easy to forget how Theo had taken advantage of him when he'd been vulnerable. Derek's lips chased away the disgusting film Theo's mouth had left behind and his strong, warm hands burned Theo's imprints away.
In just a couple of weeks, Derek made him feel better than he'd felt in months and that was something which hadn't escaped dad's attention.
"You're happy with him, huh?" Dad remarked one late afternoon at the beginning of October.
"Hm?" Stiles looked up from lacing his shoes. Derek would be here any second now, so they could go watch a movie at the theatre. They didn't know which one yet; they would pick one when they got there.
He stilled at dad's knowing eyes and flicked his eyes down at his right shoe. "Yeah, he does," he said softly.
Dad squeezed his shoulder on his way to the kitchen. "I'm glad. He's a good man."
"He is," Stiles agreed, smiling.
"That doesn't mean he'll get out of the official meet the parents dinner, though!"
"As long as you don't do the cliché thing and threaten him with your gun."
Dad scoffed. "Please, it's basically my prerogative as your father to do that. What kind of father would I be if I didn't threaten my kid's boyfriend?"
"A good one who would get a steak in exchange?" Stiles said hopefully.
Dad just gave him a deadpan look. "Nice try, kid. No way are you going to take this away from me. Not even steak will get him out of that talk."
Stiles bemoaned the fact that his father had turned out to be the cliché type until Derek knocked on the door, but the truth was that he was secretly happy with his dad's threats. It made him feel like a normal guy with a normal relationship.
Something he had feared he would never have after realising just what kind of person Theo was.
Derek's presence helped a lot, but it wasn't a cure-all. When he wasn't with Derek or chatting to his friends or studying his butt off (because even the online classes were no joke) sometimes thoughts of Theo would manage to creep up on him out of the blue and he'd sit there and just breathe, trying not to fall in the grip of the all consuming panic that was lurking right on the edge.
When those thoughts happened, he called his dad or Derek – the only two who knew the extent of the shit Theo had pulled. He'd been honest about it to Derek, wanting him to know despite being ashamed about it. Theo hadn't managed to hurt him as much as he'd feared he had, but he'd still done things to him and Stiles – he needed Derek to know. One day they would be going further than just kissing and cuddling and Stiles was all for that. Hell, those moments featured in his imagination quite regularly in fact, but the thing was: he didn't know how he would react when their relationship progressed to that point.
He couldn't remember anything that had happened during his heat when Theo had been with him, but he'd been reading articles about it online and he knew that even if he couldn't remember anything, his body still might and if he reacted in a bad way … Derek needed to know it wasn't because of him.
That conversation hadn't been easy and it had left him shaken, feeling raw and bared open for the entire world to see, but it had been necessary. He didn't want any secrets between them. It had been horrible, worse than when he'd told his dad the truth, but in a strange kind of a way it had also made him feel relieved, like the last burden he'd been carrying around unknowingly had finally been discarded.
Derek had been furious. Furious to the point that he'd popped his claws and his teeth had lengthened into dangerous sharp fangs. He'd stalked out of the room for a short while and when he'd returned, he'd admitted that he'd come close to losing control. Because he hadn't wanted to scare Stiles, he'd left. Derek could never scare him, though.
His anger had been hot red, close to explosive, but it had made Stiles feel safe. Because that anger was for him, a reaction to the awful things Theo had done. Theo might be an Alpha, but Derek's fury was powerful enough to tear him down if he ever got close enough to him, Stiles knew.
It made him feel better, even if the topic of their conversation had left him sick for the rest of the evening.
So no, Derek's presence wasn't an immediate cure-all. Stiles was still plagued by nightmares some nights, still occasionally jumped if he heard an unexpected sound. He'd probably keep looking behind his shoulders until the day came that Theo would be behind bars.
But Derek helped. And that was enough for now.
He set his alarm for seven a.m., grimacing as he selected the numbers. His online classes gave him a form of freedom when it came to the time he got up in the morning, but he'd promised Derek he would help him move into his new apartment early the next morning. Derek's promise of good coffee and donuts had helped convince him.
Well that and the rather steamy kiss he'd given before the donut promise. Stiles was way too weak when it came to the Beta, much too weak.
Switching off the light, he crawled into his bed and yawned, running fingers through his hair. Outside the rain was picking up and he idly wondered whether it would grow into a storm during the night. He fell asleep listening to the rhythmic ticking of the rain against the window.
When he woke up a while later, he was confused at first, not understanding what had woken him up. Was it morning already? But no, a quick glance at the clock showed that it was barely one in the morning. Huh, weird.
Right when he went to turn around and find a good position to fall asleep in, he became aware of his phone buzzing loudly on his nightstand, announcing that he had messages.
"Scott, if that's you, I'm going to make you regret it, buddy," he muttered irritated, but rolled around to grab his phone nonetheless. Maybe Scott had locked himself outside again. Wouldn't be the first time.
Scott wasn't the one who'd texted him. His heart beating painfully, he stared at the messages greeting him; ringing filling his ears.
'You're not getting rid of me this easily. We're going to have a nice talk together'
'Come to the tree you were so eager to hide in last time'
'You better come alone or a certain someone will discover how long his healing lasts'
The last message was just an attachment with a single picture. A picture of a bound, unconscious Derek.
How he'd managed to get out of the house without alerting his dad he didn't know. He didn't particularly care either. All he could think of as he raced through the quiet streets, barely keeping his car from slipping on the wet road, was getting to the Nemeton fast enough before Theo could do something to Derek.
Theo.
That fucker was back. How the hell had he managed to get back into Beacon Hills without anyone being the wiser? How had he managed to slip through all the police controls without setting off an alarm? Did he have help from inside? Who?
Heart hammering in his chest, he came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the Preserve and barely remembered to shut off the engine before he started running into the woods. The trees towered above him, the darkness swallowing him up, and his breathing was loud, too loud, as he crashed through the forest, rushing past bushes and tripping over roots sticking up from the ground.
The thick scent of fresh fallen rain was everywhere around him, filling his nose, his lungs, his head, and somewhere in the distance some dog barked and an owl hooted. Tiny pin pricks of animals, ones only active at night, greeted him before they scuttled away.
He almost slipped on the wet grass when he finally broke out of the cover of the trees, entering the clearing where the Nemeton stood tall and proudly.
He couldn't immediately spot either Derek or Theo. Where were they?
"Theo?" he called out, cursing himself when his voice wavered and he took a hesitative step forwards. Cold wind brushed against his bare skin and he shuddered, looking up at the sky briefly. Thick clouds obscured the moon and the stars from view.
"I came like you told me to. What do you want to talk about?"
He stopped a few feet away from the Nemeton and looked around. Nothing. Where the hell were they?
Panic threatening to take over, he took another step closer. "Come on, fucker. You called me here and now you're hiding? Fucking coward!"
A shadow moved in the corner of his eye and he whipped his head around, opening his mouth and –
His eyes shot open and he froze. Rain was pouring down, soaking him to the bone. His pyjamas didn't offer any cover naturally, because – wait, why was he wearing pyjamas? Hadn't he changed his clothes? Hadn't Theo …
Teeth chattering, he patted his pockets and forced his stiff fingers to retrieve his phone. He opened his messages immediately, but … There were none of Theo. The last message he'd received was from Derek wishing him a good night.
Blankly he raised his gaze from his phone to the Nemeton. As if feeling his gaze, the Nemeton's branches rustled and one of them touched Stiles' cheek as if caressing him. The tree buzzed and hummed, seemingly pleased.
"What the hell's going on here?" Stiles whispered in shock.
The Nemeton's buzzing only grew louder in response.
AN2: Any guesses as to what's going on? ^^
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
- 19
- 20
- 21
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Step by Step, We'll Get There