Sterek One Shots

Death of a Bachelor

This ones for bllover587 . This is the first request I've even gotten and it was fun to create a story around the pack catching Derek singing Death of a Bachelor. Hope you enjoy!

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Stiles and Derek's wedding is two days away. Stiles is staying with Scott in preparation for his "all day long bachelor party, that's gonna be amazing" as Scott had put it.

Currently, it's almost four in the morning and Issac is dragging the entire pack to Derek's loft. Stiles thought about refusing, because him and Derek decided their wedding day would be more special if they didn't see each other in the few days before hand. But it's late, Stiles is still half asleep, and after only twelve hours away from his sourwolf, Stiles misses him.

"Alright," Scott yawns, rubbing a hand down his face, "Tell me again what happened?" Issac fums nervously, glancing over at Boyd for help. "It was your idea, you tell them," Boyd argues. Issac sighs in defeat, his shoulders slumping. "Fine. Derek didn't want his bachelor party to be the night before his wedding, because he's Derek and wanted to be sure he's ready. A couple of weeks ago I found a...guy...who sells alcohol laced safely with wolfbane." The pack collectively groans, and Stiles is suddenly a little more awake. "Is he okay?" The human pushes his way through the group until he's side by side with Issac, clutching his arm for an answer. "Well," Issac clears his throat, "He's not hurt. Just, uh, drunk off his ass." Stiles' shoulders sag in relief. "Then what's the problem?"

"We can't sober him up," Boyd deadpans. "It's been hours," Issac adds.

"Do you guys hear that?" Erica asks out of the blue. All the shapeshifters seem to tune into whatever Erica is talking about while Stiles and Lydia share a look. "Hello, no supernatural hearing abilities," he dramatically gestures to himself and the red-head. "I—I think he's singing," Scott laughs. "What?!" Stiles screeches. Derek Hale never sings, NEVER. And he should know since he always plays music over the stereo while screaming the lyrics and dancing around like an idiot, to which Derek smiles and playfully rolls his eyes. And on the rare occasion, Derek will stand up and spin Stiles around to dance for a moment. But sing? No, no he never does that.

Stiles is scrambling up the steps, on all fours more than not, the pack following quickly behind him. He finally reaches the door, which is already opened a few inches, and peaks inside. He has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, Derek is spinning around the living room like he's ballroom dancing.

"I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall. The lace in your dress, tangles my neck, how do I live?" Derek sings to himself, a little off key, but Stiles' heart melts regardless.

"Is he singing a Panic! At the Disco song?" Lydia arches an eyebrow, only to be shushed harshly by Stiles as he pulls out his phone and presses record.

"The death of a bachelor
Oh oh-oh,
Letting the water fall.
The death of a bachelor,
Oh oh-oh,
Seems so fitting for,
Happily ever after,
Whoo,
How could I ask for more?
Lifetime of laughter,
At the expense of the death of a bachelor."

Derek drops to his knees. "I'm cutting my mind off," he places a hand over his chest, "Feels like my heart is going to burst, alone at a table for two and I just wanna be served. And when you think of me, am I the best you've ever had? Share one more drink with me, smile even though you're sad. I'm walking the long road, watching the sky fall. The lace in your dress, tangles my neck, how do I live?" He stands back up, arm raising to the ceiling like a grand gestures.

He finishes the rest of the song, Stiles stops recording and waits a few seconds before opening the door all the way. Derek whips around so fast he nearly falls over, earning a soft laugh from Stiles. He meets the alphas side and wraps an arm around him, leading him to an armchair before he really does face plant. Derek pulls Stiles into his lap, nuzzling into his neck. "I feel funny," he mumbles through what sounds like a giggle, but that would be too much for Stiles to handle. "I know, that's why we're here," Stiles explains, petting down Derek's wild hair. The werewolf peers around Stiles to see the rest of his pack, who he failed to notice before. "Hi," he offers a lopsided grin, which everyone coo's at.

"Has he had any water or coffee?" Stiles directs toward Issac and Boyd, attempting to ignore Derek nosing his throat. "He wouldn't drink any," Issac huffs, "That's why we brought all of you here. We don't know what to do."

"Derek, baby," Stiles starts gently, tilting his chin up with a finger, "Will you drink some coffee for me?" His green-blue eyes are wide and doughy, he nods a little. Stiles throws a look over his shoulder, a silent way of telling someone to get it started. Issac just huffs some more, because how could it be so easy for Stiles when Derek fought so hard to not sober up just twenty minutes ago.

"I'm sorry," Derek murmurs against the younger males pale skin, face hidden. "You're fine, Der, I promise." Stiles lays his head against Derek's, eyes falling closed. "Do you still want to marry me?" Stiles chest tightens and his heart stutters, "Of course I do. I love you, even after seeing you drunk for the first time...and I hoping the last time."

"Anything for you," Derek agrees immediately. Issac hands Stiles a fresh mug of coffee then, so he pulls away from Derek and offers him the cup. "Drink up, it'll make you feel better."

———

Stiles sneaks out of bed around ten in the morning to make some breakfast for the pack, since they all stayed the night. Derek is still out cold, and no is really expecting him to wake up for awhile, despite not knowing if werewolves can get hangovers from wolfsbane laced alcohol.

They eat French toast, scrambled eggs, and sausage links. Stiles puts a plate in the microwave for later, knowing Derek will be hungry whenever he wakes.

"Gather around," Stiles announces with a grin. Everyone sits beside him or stands behind him to get a good view of the small phone screen. He presses play on the video from last night, laughing with a fond smile at the dramatic performance, he knew Derek secretly liked his music.

"What're you guys watching?" Derek croaks. The pack jumps and Stiles quickly turns off his phone. Their alpha is standing there in a dark grey pair of sweatpants and devilish hair, eyes accusing even with bags under them. "Someone singing," Stiles finally answers, knowing it's not a lie so his heart won't speed up. Eyeing his packs mortified expressions, he knows he caught them doing something. He arches one eyebrow higher than the other, singling in on Stiles. "Watching who sing?"

"Uh..." he glances at anyone else for help. Lydia fails to hold in her laughter, which makes them seem even more suspicious. The pack scatters as soon as Derek reaches the sofa, gaze dead set on his fiancé. "Stiles," he states, tilting his head to the side. "Der, trust me, you don't wanna see it."

"Stiles," he repeats, arms folding across his bare chest. The human gulps, seeking help from his friends once again, but they put their hands up in surrender. "You guys are literally zero help. I hope you know he won't harm a single hair on my head but he might pummel you, and I feel no remorse. Traders," he grumbles.

Derek rolls his eyes and sits down next to Stiles expectingly. His finger lingers for a moment over the play button, but Derek's  impatient sigh has him finally pressing play.

"—seems so fitting for, happily every after, whoo—" Derek immediately stops the video, staring directly at the small screen and not blinking. "You're so cute," Stiles finally laughs, "I knew you liked P!ATD."

Derek scratches the scruff on his cheek, opening his mouth to say something a couple of times, but keeps his head down. Stiles knows his sourwolf is blushing.

"Can you delete that?" He manages to utter, completely mortified that his entire pack saw him singing and dancing while he was drunk. "No can do, sorry, everyone has to have embarrassing videos from their bachelor party. And how fitting that you sang Death of a Bachelor," Stiles coo's and gives his soon to be husband a cheeky smile. "Stiles," he whines, hiding his face in the humans neck.

"Sorry, babe, this is golden. Now I have to get on with my own bachelor party antics, so I'm sure you'll get your payback. Love you!" Stiles calls, leaving his pouting fiancé on the couch.

"Love you too," he grumbles.