Drunk Dial

"He killed my sister." Derek retorted. He had no family left because his Uncle had killed his sister, for the sole purpse of becoming the Alpha. As Alpha he had a better chance of getting revenge on those who had destroyed his family.  

And he did. He killed the bitch who has set the Hale house alight, murdering everybody but Derek, Laura, and Peter. Werewolves and humans, all gone because of some bloodthirsty hunter. And now she was dead, which Derek was happy about.

But Peter had still killed his sister. His family. He was as much of a monster as the hunter, and Derek needed revenge. So he killed him.

"But we had a deal!" Scott's voice had risen in volume. He was angry with Derek because of that, and would be until he was able to be in a public relationship with Allison. "I would help you find him, and I could kill him! You owe me Derek! One little favor won't kill you!"

Derek sighed. He could imagine what his family would say to him right now.

"You went back on a deal, Derek. Be a man and pay back your debt, son," his father would tell him with a stern look.

"The boy is in love Derek, don't continue to stand in the way of that. Do him the favor, baby," his mother would say, her hand on his arm, her voice firm but kind.

"Don't be a pussy, bro. Or are you really telling me you can't handle a tiny favor from a 16 year old," Laura would tease. He would glare at her and she would whack him on the back of his head.

"Fine," he told Scott, giving in to the memory of his family. "What the hell is it you need me to do?"

"Are you at home?" Scott asked him, torn between feeling smug and relieved.

"Yes. I was sleeping."

"Good. We'll be there in like, ten minutes." And with that he hung up. Derek glared at the phone in his hand. Be here? Why the hell did they need to come here? And why the hell were "They" even coming? It was obvious that "they" meant Scott and Stiles. What the hell was McCall bringing his drunk friend for?

Ten minutes later he found out.

Scott dragged his best friend out of the Jeep, guiding him as he stumbled up to the scorched house. As a werewolf, Scott couldn't get drunk. But Stiles was 100% human, and man was he wasted.

Scott wasn't completely sure about this, honestly, but he didn't really have any other choice. He was out of options. This was honestly a last resort.

"Derek!" He called out, yelling just in case the older wolf had fallen back asleep. Normally he may feel bad about waking him up, but his resentment towards him canceled out the mild guilt and then some.

Derek appeared at the top of the stairs, a silhouette in the moon-lit space. He looked down at the two teens. Scott had an arm around Stiles' waist, supporting his best friend. Stiles was grinning up at him with a dazed look on his face.

"He needs to crash here tonight," Scott said, not beating around the bush. Derek's eyebrows furrowed together.

"Why the hell does he need to stay here? He's not my responsinility."

Scott sighed. "Because you owe me. And he can't go home or else his dad will kill him. And my mom would just call his dad. I even thought about Jackson or Lydia but apparently they're already having a sleepover of their own."

With an eye roll, the older wolf jumped down the stairs. Scott shifted Stiles so that Derek could grab onto him. Stiles seemed to snap out of the trance he was in and he held onto Derek, giggling like mad.

"D-ddeeerrreeeeek." Stiles leaned, more like slumped, into his chest. "Derek you smell...mmmmmmmm..." he slurred, wrapping both arms around the older wolf's waist. Scott rolled his eyes at his best friend, who was clinging to the other man. Derek looked down at him, looking like he was debating whether or not to let the boy drop to the floor.

"How much has he had to drink? He reeks."

"Enough. I'll leave his jeep here so he can leave in the morning. Night Derek." Scott turned to leave, but stopped as Stiles called out.

"WAIT!" He sounded surprisingly sober, like he wasn't thrilled with the idea of Scott leaving him with the Alpha. The young wolf turned back and looked at him.

"Yes, Stiles?" He asked. Stiles leaned forward and "whispered" dramatically into Scott's ear, forgetting that Derek would be able to hear him even if he had been actually speaking softly.

"Be safe with him, mkaaaaayyy? D-donnn't want you to get p-pregnant." Scott barked in laughter, understanding immediately what Stiles was confusingly speaking of. Derek's face became more puzzled. He was too tired to try and figure it out.

Scott was still laughing as he left, thinking that maybe this would turn out to be more interesting than disasterous afterall.

Derek and Stiles stood there for a moment, silent apart from Stiles' occasional hiccup. He was not going to be able to make it up the stairs, Derek decided. He sighed before turning slightly and lifted the teen up bridal style. Stiles arms went around his neck without the complaint that Derek had expected.

"Mmmmmm" Derek stiffened about halfway up the stairs. Stiles had burried his face into the wolf's neck, nuzzling him slightly. "Yooouuu are commmfy." Derek's chest rumbled with a low growl.

"Stiles."

"Hmmmmm?"

"How much have you had to drink?"

"J-just two...or... five... maybe..." And with that, an eyeroll, and a sigh, Derek carried the teen up the stairs. He made a turn and entered the part of the house that was still fairly liveable. It had escaped the majority of the fire's damage by some miracle, the only 3 rooms in the house that had done so, including Derek's room.

Stiles clung onto Derek and murmured nonsense into his neck. The wolf could feel the vibration if the teen's vocal chords from the way Stiles had positioned himself. It was an odd and, surprisingly, not entirely unwelcome sensation.

The two made their way into the other bedroom in the hall. It was very simple, having been the least used of the three guest bedrooms. Derek moved to place Stiles on the bed. He decided against dropping him in case that upset his stomach and he vomited. His increased sense of smell would be able to pick up that stench for ages eveb after the area had been cleaned.

But Derek wasn't able to release Stiles at all. In fact! When he tried to let go the teen just clung to him even harder than before! Whining wordlessly at the wolf.

"Come on, Stiles. You have to go to bed," Derek gritted out. Stiles shook his head.

"Noooooooooo... I don't wwaannnnnaaaa."

"Stiles." Stiled huffed a bit a moved his head so he could look Derek in the eyes.

"Fine," he said. "But you're coming with me." And with that, the human managed to catch the wolf offguard by clumsily jumping out of his arms and onto the bed. But he never let go of Derek's neck, dragging him down so that he feel practically on top of Stiles. The teen giggled.

"This is actually preeeeettyyyy commmmfffyyy." Derek shifted around so that he was no longer laying half on top of Stiles, and he had to admit that he was right. Their current position wasn't uncomfortable at all. And Derek was tired. And he didn't feel up to dealing with fighting off a drunk Stiles Stilinski.

And it most definitely would be a fight to try and remove him from his postion, which was wrapped around the older male.

So, with a very uncharacteristic thought proccess, Derek decided to stuff it. He laid his arm accross Stiles' waist as the younger male snuggled closer.

And, also very Un-Derek-like, he managed to sleep the whole night through without a hitch.