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“Absolutely not.”
“But it's his birthday, and you promised.”
“No.”
“Well, it’s too late. You have to. The rest of the pack already agreed, and I refuse to let you ruin this just because you have some ridiculous notion of masculinity and its correlation to your leadership abilities.”
“Lydia-”
“Derek .”
It's a standoff, neither one wanting to give in.
“Why?”
“You know why. Don’t you think you can suck it up for just an hour so he can have a good time?”
Derek sighs, rubs his forehead before sticking out his free hand to grab the garment bag Lydia is holding out. She smiles, wide and knowing, and when Derek sees it he realizes that the inevitable has happened. Lydia may not be a wolf, but she definitely knows how they work.
“Perfect. Practice starts promptly at 6:00 in my basement. If you're not there, I don’t know... I’ll skin you alive, or something.” With that she turns on her heels and walks out of the house.
***
“Guys, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this. What if Derek finds out?”
“Oh come on, Stiles. If you don’t get strippers on your 18th birthday, it's like a sin.” Allison just pushes him down onto the couch in Lydia’s basement that also serves as a rec room.
“And what does it matter what Derek thinks?”
“Well, you know. I’m 18 now, and I was kind of hoping-”
“Irrelevant. Here.” Lydia thrusts a drink into his unsuspecting hands.
Danny just sits down next to him and puts a comforting arm around his shoulders. “It’ll be fun. Trust me.”
“She’s right, Stilinski. Everyone knows Lydia throws the best parties with the best entertainment.” Erica squeezes in next to Stiles, effectively shoving Danny to the side.
The doorbell rings upstairs, and Stiles’ guts tighten in anticipation. Lydia runs upstairs, and suddenly all he sees is black.
“Hey!”
“Shh. Don’t worry, it’ll come off as soon as your surprise gets down here,” Erica whispers into his ear.
“Ok, but what if this is some sick joke where you actually got me the ugliest stripper in California and you all laugh while he’s grinding into me?”
“Just, shut up, Stiles.”
Stiles isn’t a werewolf but he can definitely hear the snickers that Danny, Erica and Allison are trying to stifle. And oh god, this is it, he’s going to find compromising photos of himself on the internet tomorrow and oh god what is his father going to think when he sees them?
He definitely doesn’t jump out of his skin when the stereo suddenly starts blasting Body...wanna feel my body? Body...such a thrill my body . Just as suddenly as he was blinded, the blindfold is removed to reveal a darkened room with party lights flashing as not one but five butts are shaking in time to the music. Every man wants to be a macho macho man!
Stiles doesn’t really get it until the verses start and the guys turn around. Never in a million years would he have ever guessed that he’d see Derek and the rest of the pack dressed as the Village People and dancing to “Macho Man”. Next to him, he feels Erica push his jaw back up from where it was probably hanging open in shock.
Derek is not the most scantily clad, not by a long shot. No, that honor goes to Scott dressed as an indian, or maybe Boyd, who’s dressed as the construction worker. Let’s be real here, Stiles is painfully in love with Derek, has been for two years, but hot damn, Boyd’s abs. He wonders how Boyd isn’t constantly fighting off people wanting to lick them. Regardless, Stiles’ eyes wander back to Derek dressed in a tight-fitting cop uniform. Stiles isn’t sure how Derek even got the pants on, they’re so tight... It takes Stiles a minute before he can tear his eyes away to see sailor Jackson spinning alongside biker Isaac, but then his eyes travel back to Derek and the pecs that are just waiting to burst out of the fitted uniform shirt and Stiles hopes for his sake that getting a boner from a man in uniform doesn’t have any reflection on his subconscious mind. Then Derek starts thrusting his hips and, well... Stiles has never gotten so hard, so fast in his entire life, and so he shifts uncomfortably trying to hide it.
Stiles hears vague shouting and whoops from Allison and Danny once the song is over and the guys have stopped dancing but still he can’t stop staring at Derek. He snaps out of it a little when Scott runs over and hugs him.
“Whoa, man! Happy birthday!” He squeezes Stiles in another hug. Scott looks around before coming in close. “Can you believe this? I can’t believe Lydia made me be the indian. I’m pretty sure everyone knows I’m Mexican, ok.”
Stiles smiles at him and is luckily saved by Allison who pushes Stiles toward Derek and distracts Scott with a kiss or two.
He stops to say hi to Jackson when he overhears Jackson grumbling to Danny about how none of this was fair, “... and she chose ‘Macho Man’. How cliche is that? She should’ve gone with ‘Magic Night’, but no.” Stiles smirks because who knew that Jackson was a closet disco fanatic. “Then I asked Lydia if I could be the biker and she said she’d think about it but then Erica tells her something about liking Isaac in leather and well, fuck. How is that even fair? I look good in leather too.” Jackson is pouting and Danny looks about two seconds from laughing, so Stiles keeps on walking.
Not to anyone’s surprise, Derek is alone in a corner, a beer bottle in hand.
“So...” Stiles suddenly remembers the drink in his hand and takes a sip, looking for something, anything to do.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” He takes another sip, “So how did Lydia-”
Derek pushes off the wall and crowds Stiles, looking deep into his eyes.
“It wasn’t hard. She knows what you mean to me.”
“Really? What do I mean to you?” Stiles breathes out, barely a whisper so that if its not what he thinks, the others won’t know.
“I’ll show you.”
Derek grabs Stiles and drags him up two flights of stairs. Derek stops for a moment and sniffs the air. Before shoving Stiles into a darkened bedroom.
“What?”
“Relax, it’s the guest bedroom.”
Stiles doesn’t get a chance to argue before Derek is shoving his tongue down Stiles’ throat. Stiles moans and brings his hands up to run them through Derek’s hair. Derek backs him against the door.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Derek growls.
Derek’s hands slip to Stiles’ waist and bring their hips flush, and Stiles would be a little embarrassed if not for the fact that Derek is just as hard against him. He hears the snick of a zipper being lowered and gasps when Derek takes a hold of him. Derek starts pulling on his dick, and god, if Stiles hadn’t been waiting for this moment for two years then he knows it would have already been over. Instead he kisses down Derek’s neck and pulls the shirt apart to run his hands all over Derek. He licks at Derek’s nipple and loves the shudder of Derek’s body against him.
Stiles reaches down with his own hand to try and find Derek’s cock but all he ends up doing is yanking on the plastic baton that’s part of the costume. Derek ignores it, and pushes Stiles’ hand away.
Still, Stiles doesn’t expect it when Derek brings out his own cock, takes them both in one hand and begins stroking. He’s almost a little sad that he hasn’t gotten a proper look at it but then Derek whispers into his ear, “Next time, next time I’ll be ready for this and we’ll do it right.”
Stiles shivers, reaches over and pulls Derek in for another kiss.
Derek’s hand begins to move faster and then Stiles is coming and coming and he can barely breathe but it doesn’t matter because Derek follows him soon after until they both slump to the floor and try to regain their breath. Derek pulls Stiles close, breathing into his neck.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“Lydia’s gonna kill me.”
Stiles laughs out loud. “Why?”
“Because she definitely isn’t getting her deposit back.”
“Oh, well. You’re gonna need it anyway.”
“Why?”
“Sorry, officer, you’re going to have to arrest me. I’ve been drinking, and that’s definitely illegal.”
Derek smirks at him before attacking his mouth in another kiss.
