Friends don't eat friends
"Jesus on a bicycle!" Stiles flails backwards on his bed to avoid the large creature that appears in his room. "Can you not do that?!"
The hellhound looks at him with a blank expression. He has a point: Stiles is the one who summoned Derek and it's not like he can call him in advance to ask if the timing is convenient. He says the spell and whatever Derek is doing in his own world is put on hold until Stiles dismisses him again. Right now, that activity entailed being furry and four legged.
Stiles has a fairly good grasp on how the whole summoning thing works by now. The summoning spell is linked to his intentions: if he calls for Derek to watch a movie with him, the demon can't leave before the thing is done. One time Stiles summoned him for movie night and got interrupted by a phone call from his dad right after Derek arrived. They ended up watching a short Pixar clip on his laptop (while Stiles talked to his dad on the phone) to be able to send the demon back properly.
The summoning circle is supposed to give him control over the demon, yet Stiles suspects Derek could manipulate that power to his benefit if he wanted to. The demon just chooses not to. He is fairly sure Derek is the most polite demon ever, despite his moniker of 'Lord of Destruction' and his generally brooding disposition.
Stiles had hesitated to call Derek over again. Their last encounter, when Derek helped him get rid of a monster spider, was a little... Well, 'off', for lack of a better word. He couldn't help but feel like they'd crossed some sort of boundary there and it wasn't just because the demon crossed the lines of the summoning circle for the first time. Derek showed his human appearance that day, not once, but twice. The first time, Stiles felt like he was just showing off. One minute there was a demon sitting in his desk chair and the next minute the hellish appearance had made way for a classically handsome face. It made sense for a demon to look like sex on legs, he figured, with things like sin and seduction and all that. Yet it wasn't the leather clad bad boy in his room that had made his heart speed up. It was the sleep rumpled man that appeared in his dark room late at night. His genuine fear for spiders had made him reach out to the first person he thought would help and wasn't it a little fucked up that he'd summoned Derek without giving it a second thought?
It had been a surreal experience and yet, Stiles couldn't help but think he'd seen the real Derek that night. Dressed in soft sleep clothes, with his hair mussed up and his feet bare. And he had laughed. Oh god, the sight of Derek laughing had completely upended the image he had of him before. He'd been in his human form too, no sign of fangs or claws. It was just... Derek.
Stiles had lain awake in his bed for a long time after the other left, his heart thumping louder than normal and not because of the spider.
It had taken him a couple of days to essentially get over himself and summon Derek again. So what if it had seemed that the demon also wasn't unaffected by their interactions that night? Stiles had decided they both needed a breather and then they could return to their normal interactions. Because Stiles had certainly gotten used to having Derek around. He enjoyed spending time with the demon, even when he wasn't very talkative.
And he isn't talking now, not in this shape of the giant hellhound, yet Stiles is just happy to have him here. Part of him had feared the demon might not answer to his call and he is grateful that Derek came, until he suddenly realises that Derek didn't have a say in it.
"Oh, shit," he exclaims, clenching his fists in front of his chest. "I am totally forcing you to be here! You can... You don't have to, you know, stay or something. I'm pretty sure that..." He falls silent, thinking back to his reason for calling on the demon. "Yeah, I just summoned you to, you know, I just wanted to see you, say hi. So, hi! Mission accomplished! You can go now if you want! Or stay, you're welcome to stay of course, I wouldn't have called for you if I didn't want you here. But you're free to go, I just want to make that clear. If you don't wanna be here, I understand. I just..." He trails off again, aware that he is rambling nervously.
The hellhound is just staring at him, the beast sitting up so his head is of a height with Stiles on the bed. Derek is so large in this form that he has pushed the desk chair clear of the summoning circle; he fills it completely, his bushy tail tucked in tight around his paws. For a long moment nobody says anything and Stiles feels how his face slowly heats up as his words from a moment before sink in. Still, it's true: he summoned Derek because he wanted to see him. He's looking at him right now, even though he is canine instead of human shaped, so technically Derek should be allowed to go if he wanted to.
"The spell shouldn't keep you here any longer, right?" Stiles asks quietly, because he can't let the silence go on. He has never done well with weighted or uncomfortable silences.
Hot air bursts against his face when the hellhound huffs, as if to say Stiles is being ridiculous. The large animal shakes his head and squints his eyes in a somewhat friendly manner. As far as a hellhound can look friendly, with the overly large fangs that protrude from his jaws and the shaggy hair that's as dark as the night.
Sufficiently reassured that Derek is not here against his will, or at least content to stay a little longer, Stiles settles cross legged on his bed, taking in the large shape of the demon. He mostly resembles a large, wild wolf, though with the shaggy fur and lanky build of an Irish wolfhound. His eyes have a red hue to them and it wouldn't surprise Stiles if they could glow in the dark. He's seen the red eyes on Derek's usual demon shape before too, though they're not always present. They must be part of the shapeshifting abilities Derek has, because Stiles has seen him with a lighter eye colour too. The red eyes fit the appearance of the hellhound, making it very clear that this is a creature from hell.
"Can I touch you?" It's out of his mouth before Stiles knows it. He can see the question surprises Derek too; he guesses it doesn't happen often that someone wants to put a hand on the hellhound. "I mean," he hurries to say, scrambling for something that doesn't sound as intimate as touching. "Your fur. I was just wondering if it feels as coarse as it looks."
The hellhound parses his request slowly and then dips his head a little. Stiles takes that as a 'yes'. He shuffles a little closer to the edge of the mattress and tentatively reaches out. His hand is hovering near the edge of the summoning circle, its progress closely followed by the reddish eyes of the hellhound.
"Would I - would I need to say the spell to cross the circle?" Stiles wonders if it works both ways, or that he can cross the lines of the summoning circle from the outside without taking any precautions.
In answer, the hellhound jerks forward and Stiles can't help it: he yelps and yanks his hand back. He immediately regrets it, especially when he sees the hurt look in Derek's eyes. He puts his hand out again, trying his best not to let it shake. "I'm sorry, you just, you took me by surprise, I'm sorry," he babbles and the hellhound huffs again, impatiently.
Stiles leans forward and then his hand touches the dark fur on Derek's shoulder. "Oh, it's much softer than I thought," he exclaims happily, his fingers digging in the surprisingly smooth hairs. He runs through it a couple of times and is already moving his hand up towards Derek's neck, when he realises how close their heads are. Stiles is leaning forward enough to have his face directly next to the demon's enormous jaws. He turns his head a little so he can catch Derek watching him closely. "Friends don't eat friends, right?"
The hellhound quickly snaps its jaws only an inch away from his nose, yet before Stiles can shout out in shock the enormous head turns and gently bumps against the side of his head. He pushes himself upright against the demon's furry shoulder, startling a laugh. "Did you just head bump me?"
Derek bumps his head against his chest this time, hard enough to make Stiles fall backwards on the bed. "Oi, careful, dude! Puny human here!"
The hellhound rumbles with something that's close to a laugh, standing on all fours now. He's clearly no longer bound to the circle, not after Stiles crossed the boundaries first. Stiles files that bit of info away for later use.
"You know, I've thought about taking you for a walk outside when you are in this form," he admits with a smirk. "But I guess there's no way you can pass for an actual dog. You're huge!"
Derek puts his front paws on the bed and pushes himself up so he towers over him. He completes the intimidating stance with a show of teeth, all sharp and pointy and monstrous. It looks like he's grinning.
A shiver trails down his spine, but other than that Stiles isn't afraid. He meant what he said earlier: he considers Derek his friend. And he trusts him not to hurt him. At least not intentionally, because when he pats the space next to him and suggests they watch a movie, the hellhound jostles him roughly when he joins him on the bed. Stiles fights back with pointy elbows and knobby knees, until they've found a position that's comfortable for them both.
He would never have thought that he would use a hellhound as a pillow, but that's essentially what he's doing. Derek lays down on the bed, his back curled against the wall, Stiles leaning back in the hollow right before his hind legs, and his large head resting on his front paws next to Stiles legs.
They're watching some Clint Eastwood movie on Stiles' laptop, propped up on the desk across from them. He's opened a bag of Reese's pieces, feeding one to Derek every now and then. "You know," Stiles says leisurely, lulled to a lazy state of content by the movie and Derek's warm fur, "I've got this whole offering system figured out." Derek's eye flicks back to him for a second to indicate he's listening, though he doesn't move otherwise.
"You guys don't do anything if you don't get something of equal measure in return. That's the rules of the game. I can summon you, but if I want you to do something for me, I need to offer something." He holds up another candy for the hellhound, reaching forward so the demon can take it from his turned up palm. Derek does so carefully, keeping his fangs away from vulnerable skin. "That's why you were so adamant about the rules of hospitality. That wasn't just for your benefit."
Derek looks back at him again, seemingly unimpressed by what the human's saying. But Stiles thinks he can see through the act of indifference. He smiles warmly. "I know you could take a lot more from me than coffee and candy, but you don't. Thank you."
It's hard to read emotions from a hellhound's face, yet Stiles knows he's hit the right spot from the way the red eyes stare at him almost vulnerably. He shuffles down a little, so he can rest his head on Derek's side, sinking down further in the comfy warmth of the hellhound. Derek doesn't say anything, he just shifts a little to accommodate their new position.
Author's note:
Writing for 'Summoning a demon' is pure self indulgence. This AU is my happy place :-)
How do you feel about it? Do you think it's any good? Or do you like the other stories better? If so: what's your favourite?