Anchor verse

Anchor - Epilogue

Stiles has his first full moon run with the pack. It's glorious. Derek and him are the only two who run on four legs, but the others are just as eager to stretch their legs. Stiles finds out he is quicker than most of them, although Jackson can keep up with him pretty well. The wolves have better stamina though, they can keep up the speed longer, especially Derek. Stiles is more nimble, mostly thanks to his small form. He makes a game out of snapping at their ankles, trying to stay out of the reach of their claws. It's Erica who manages to swipe him, she actually sends him flying into some bushes. Scott fishes him out and Stiles sees how Derek glares angrily at Erica, who tilts her head a little to show her throat. Stiles gets rid of the ridiculous tension by biting Derek's tail. He has to pay for it only seconds later, when he finds himself on his back between the Alpha's paws again. He licks Derek's growl away, which earns them a mixed chorus of groans and aww's from the Betas.

When they get back to the house Lydia insists to take a picture of the group, before she lets them attack the food and drinks she has ready for them.

Stiles darts to his father, who sits in one of the armchairs. He jumps on his lap and dives in for a good cuddle. The sheriff laughs and rubs his hands through Stiles' fur. "I take it you had a good time, son?"

Stiles nods and rubs his shoulders against his father's chest.

"He did great," Scott says, offering the sheriff a bottle of beer. "Although he was a real menace."

Noah Stilinski chuckles. "That doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

He says his goodbyes a little later, because he has to work the next day and it's already past midnight. Stiles gets the okay to sleep over, like the pack almost always does on full moons.

Stiles walks his father to his car, sitting back on his haunches to watch him drive away. When he trots back to the house he gets called over by Lydia, who wants to give his fox body a closer look. He prances this way and that way under her admiring eyes, if only because it annoys Jackson. It's not until she turns up a dog brush from somewhere that he rushes out of the room to get changed. He doesn't bother looking for his own clothes, he just pulls on a pair of sweats he finds in the laundry room. The hamper with dirty laundry smells enough like Derek for him to shift fairly easily.

"See? Told you it would get easier," Derek says from the door opening. He throws Stiles the red hoodie he was wearing earlier that day, before he took off running.

Stiles flushes and pulls the hoodie over his head, leaving the hood up. With the thrill of the run wearing off a little, he is much more aware of his actions of tonight. He shuffles closer to Derek, keeping his gaze on the floor. "I'm sorry I bit you."

His Alpha smiles and reaches out, cupping his neck underneath the hoodie. "I know."

He lets Stiles burrow closer to scent him. "You got away with it this time, but don't let it happen again. My teeth are bigger."

Stiles laughs softly at the empty threat, but he nods anyway. Derek is warm and firm and he smells like Alpha and anchor, like... Stiles isn't sure yet what the other notion is, but it smells familiar and good. Like he could roll around in it. He does, rubbing up against Derek's side until his Alpha tightens his arms around him to make him stop.

"You should've been a cat instead of a fox," Derek says with a shake of his head, sounding fond.

"You don't like cats," Stiles teases, rubbing his nose on Derek's jaw. "But you like me."

Derek doesn't answer with words. He just presses a kiss to Stiles forehead and guides him back to the living room.

Whatever this new, unprecedented thing with Derek is, Stiles will take it.

He also takes his chance to press himself in the small spot that's left in Derek's armchair, his Alpha's arm coming up around his shoulders to make more room for him. With his knees pulled up he is practically sitting in Derek's lap. He never would have done so before, at least not in human form. His fox never cared for boundaries or other people's judgements. Yet the full moon run and his talk with Derek make him feel like it's okay. It feels nice too, even though the chair is hardly big enough to fit both of them.

"You should've been a chihuahua instead of a fox," Jackson drawls from his spot on the sofa a little over. He has Lydia tucked underneath one arm and is leaning against Isaac on the other side. "A little lapdog."

Stiles immediately feels self conscious about his position, even though Derek's arm firmly keeps him into place. "Shut up, Jackson," he says, with nowhere near his usual bravado. Jackson makes a face at him, miming his words.

"I like chihuahuas," Lydia muses, voice clear and with a stern look at Jackson. "But a fox suits Stiles much better."