Do not deny the past, be unashamedly proud of what you've been. Always. It's my basic rule. This is me. Nothing more, nothing less.Ask me anything
sterek » stiles can teleport places au
For Sterek Week! Friday: Sterek AU
Derek steps down onto the beach, his dogs already far ahead of him. The wind is biting and grey is settling in but he’s not going to let the weather stop his daily routine. Sand moves under his feet and he notices a man wandering over the beach, hands in his pockets and his whole body shivering.
His dogs rush around the man’s ankles, excited for some human contact other than Derek. Not many people come to this place and he’s not even sure how the man got here. Derek watches as the figure bends down to pet his dogs, and as Derek drifts closer he smells the breath of magic on the man.
It hits him hard and his own eyes start to burn with colour involuntarily. The man freezes, standing straight, and his pretty pink lips part in terror. His face goes pale and waves of his scent hit Derek’s nose. It’s flooded with the prickle of magic and anxiety. Then the man is gone.
Derek’s dogs rush up and bark at his heels, moving around excitedly at the man’s sudden disappearance. He feels like he should be worried. No one comes to this part of the coast and the closest town is two hours away. The last time he was around something supernatural his family died, but now Derek doesn’t have anything to lose or the energy to care. The man seemed to think Derek would do more harm to him, anyway.
It’s another month before he sees the man again. This time he’s scrambling through sandy bush, swearing whenever his hands swipe against the cutting grass. Derek clears his throat. The man darts his head up and his warm, amber eyes stare back. He slips and falls on his backside.
“What are you doing here?” Derek says, unfriendly.
He licks his lips, and his heart is thrumming. “Are you – are you magic too?”
Derek’s eyes threaten to glow blue again. He’s anticipated the dance of magic that falls off the young man so he has a better grip on his control. Derek steps forward, his eyes narrow. He doesn’t want anyone falling into his territory and he curls his lips, revealing his fangs. Derek lifts his hands, his claws lengthening and blue pierces the man. Hair begins to cover his face and Derek smells a bit of fear, hears a small squeak, and then the man is pulled into the air and he’s gone.
“I’m Stiles,” he says, and this time he’s right by Derek’s small cottage, hidden behind rows of trees. Derek snarls at him but the effect is lost when one of his dogs runs to Stiles’ legs and starts trying to lick his hands and knees.
“Go away,” Derek tells him.
“I can’t, not by will,” he says, inching closer. Derek would’ve hoped that because he’s got an axe in hand that the guy would be wary and hopefully run away. He’s a sweaty, angry, lonely man, and though he’s chopping wood he probably satisfies the image of an axe murderer.
Stiles doesn’t run away.
“I’ve never met anyone,” he clears his throat. “Different.”
Derek has a burst of sympathy start up inside him but he tears it down instantly. He goes back to throwing his axe against the log and he only stops when he hears a loud chuckle.
“Didn’t think you’d be the kind of person to have pink flowers on their window sill,” Stiles says at him.
Derek glares. The flowers had been his mother’s favourite, and he’s only ever seen them grow in this part of the country. “What do you want?” he snaps.
Stiles shrugs, looking away. His lips look cracked. “Answers.”
“Well I can’t give them to you,” Derek says gruffly. He turns back to his small cottage and hopes by the time he’s used his pathetic little shower that Stiles will be gone. When he goes back outside, his dog is whining at a spot that smells like magic and smells like Stiles.
He returns from the grocery store, his beat up truck trailing up the dirt of his driveway. It’s dark by the time he gets back and when he steps inside all of his lights are on. Derek smells him everywhere, like he’s gone around and poked in all of Derek’s things.
His kitchen is even emptier than when he left it and the larger of his two dogs comes down the stairs and immediately starts to press its side against Derek’s legs. Derek bends down and runs his hands through his dog’s coat, accepting a wet kiss from the only company he gets these days, and then he moves down the hallway. He’s surprised to find that Stiles didn’t step into his bedroom.
It takes more than a few days before his scent has left the cottage completely.