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Stiles tilted his head back and let the water pour down over his face. It was hot, almost too hot for him, and he loved it. The old water heater in his house--his dad's house has been so old that it just couldn't compete with a teenager's desire for hot showers. Stiles had learned self preservation years ago. His showers had been bare five minute runs, long enough to soap up and rinse off in the slightly-higher-than-body-temperature water, since he was fourteen. To have actually hot water, for what he suspected would be a really long time, was heaven.
He fumbled blindly for the bottles of soap, shampoo, and conditioner sitting on a built in shelf, feeling around for the shampoo. It took him a second to realize he wouldn't find his own bottle here in Derek's shower. Just as he had that realization, his hand collided with a familiar shaped bottle. Wiping water away from his face, he blinked at the plastic container in his hand.
It was his brand of shampoo. A brand new bottle of it. He stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out why there would be something like this in Derek's shower. That seemed odd, since there were other bottles that were obviously... Stiles' mind stuttered to a halt for a moment. Lined up on the ledge were toiletries that were obviously Derek's--and he had a fleeting moment to be pleased that Derek was not an Axe man--but another set that was the same thing that Stiles used, and were not the half empty bottles he'd brought with him.
Fresh bottles of Stiles' toiletries. All of them. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, even the face wash he used because it was the first one his mom had bought for him when he got his first pimples and it worked so well. It was kind of a pain to find, unless you knew where to look, which meant that Derek had either put in some serious effort, or taken the time to ask someone where to find what Stiles used. He slowly picked up the shampoo, poured a small puddle into his hand, and started to wash his hair, thinking about what that meant.
From the time he'd been betrothed to Laura--and they'd started laughing about such an old fashioned word as betrothed--he'd known that he was going to have to stand up for himself and his rights as a free-thinking, free-willed individual. A human. Not with Laura, she'd constantly reassured him. She had absolutely no problem with him being human, if he never took the bite, or any of that. To her, he was Stiles Stilinski, eventually Stilinski-Hale (Laura had promised to hyphenate her name, too. He'd hugged her for that.), and that was enough. They both knew that that wouldn't be enough for others, though.
Stiles leaned his head back to wash away the suds while he thought about what he and Laura use to talk about. He missed her, more than he would expect, but more as you would miss a friend than anything else. They'd had long debates about how humans in general were thought of as second class by a lot of wolves, and how human mates in particular were often ignored completely. He snorted, remembering her reaction to his outrage.
"But why?" Stiles demanded. "Logically, that makes no sense. A human brave enough to willingly take on a werewolf mate should be celebrated, not ignored!"
"But that's just it," Laura pointed out, eating some of her pasta. "They've coupled with a werewolf, exposed themselves to danger. They should be taking the bite, too, according to a lot of people, so that they're not putting their werewolf mate at risk."
Stiles stared at her. "So that the human isn't putting the werewolf mate at risk?" he asked. "Isn't that backward?"
Laura waved her fork around while she chewed. Once she swallowed, she explained. "The werewolf can't let fully lose around their human mate. They have to be careful of their humanity, so they don't give into the beast fully, and that can be harmful to the wolf."
Stiles blinked, trying to assimilate. "So. Wait, the human is putting the werewolf at risk by the werewolf not putting the human at risk?"
"Yup."
"That is completely messed up!" Stiles lost his appetite completely, pushing his plate away. "Are you saying I'm going to have to let you bite me and change me just so that people won't say I'm putting you in danger and ignore me because I'm putting you at risk?"
Laura leaned forward, her gaze intense. "No, Stiles. No. They can ignore you all they want. I'm not going to make you take the bite before you want to, if you ever want to. Together, we're going to work on showing people that you're just as good a person as I am, if not better. Ignoring you will be to their detriment, Stilinski. I promise."
Stiles turned his face under the water spray to wash away the few tears that escaped. He'd had so many plans with Laura, and now he was married to her brother. The brother that had made him feel so good last night, had been thoughtful enough to get Stiles' preferred brands, but hadn't seen him more than twice in the three months he'd been back in Beacon Hills. He wondered if that brother would support him the way Laura had, the way she planned to. If Derek would let people ignore Stiles, and stand up for Stiles when it was necessary.
He heard movement out in the dressing area attached to the bathroom, and decided that it was probably time to finish up. He washed quickly and turned off the water, reaching for the first towel that he could reach as he stepped out of the stall. By the time Stiles was dry enough to step off the bathmat, Derek was tapping at the bathroom door.
“Stiles?”
“Hey,” Stiles said, opening the door. He had to stifle a smile when Derek blinked a few times as the curls of steam puffed out of the bathroom. “I’m just now finishing if you want to shower.”
Was Stiles imagining things, or was that disappointment in Derek’s eyes? “Yeah, thanks. Breakfast is in the bedroom. Got brought up a few minutes ago. Help yourself.” He slipped into the bathroom as soon as Stiles stepped out, and shut the door.
Stiles frowned thoughtfully at the door for a moment. THat was interesting. Was Derek disappointed? If he was disappointed, why? Was it because he had gotten out of bed, and Derek had hoped to...do something this morning? Or was it because Stiles had showered, and Derek wanted to smell himself on Stiles?
He paused in front of the vanity mirror, and studied his face. He didn’t look any different, except for the mark on his shoulder. Stiles’ fingers drifted up to brush across the pearly white scar tissue. THe bite looked years old, faded and healed long since. It didn’t feel like much to touch it, except for something warm flaring in his belly
Stiles let his hand drop, and looked at himself in the eye. “Eat. Get dressed. Quit mooning. You have a council to impress.”
About an hour later, Stiles fidgeted with his suit jacket, studying himself in the mirror. He wasn’t wearing a tie, which looked weird to him. They were going to see The Council (he always capitalized it in his head), and he felt like he should be wearing the full thing. “Are you sure this is enough?” he asked, tugging his cuffs down, and looking in the mirror to Derek who was a few steps behind him.
“It is, I promise. You’ll have to show your mark to the council, and your tie would just be in the way. In the future, if you go in front of the council, you’ll need to wear a tie, but today, this is acceptable.” Derek closed the distance between them, and put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder where the mark was. He squeezed gently.
Stiles’ knees went a little weak. It felt amazingly good to have that pressure, but even more, it made him feel protected. Not like he was weaker, but like he had someone to stand with him if he wanted or needed it. He smiled a little at Derek. “So I’m stripping in front of a bunch of old farts?”
Derek barked a surprised laugh, and looked even more surprised to have let it out. “Partial stripping,” he offered, squeezing again before letting go to finish putting on his shoes. “Did...did Laura ever tell you about this part?”
Stiles shook his head. “Not really? She mentioned that I would be presented to the council , but not what would happen.
“They’ll request you bare your mark, and then the head of the council, William Carey, will examine it. I...” Derek hesitated for a moment. “I don’t think they’ll touch it. Claiming marks are pretty personal, but they may sniff it to make sure it’s not...fake.”
Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Fake?”
Derek snorted. “You’d be surprised how many people try make up or whatever.” He shrugged a little, and stood up. “After that, there’ll probably be a little speech or something about responsibility, and after that, we’ll be dismissed.”
“Well, that seems remarkably straightforward. You sure I’m not going to have to do anything else?” Stiles finished putting on his own shoes and headed out the door of the bedroom ahead of Derek.
“Not as far as I know. There have been more than a few things that have been a surprise since I became an Alpha, but that one’s pretty well known and public knowledge.” Derek grabbed his keys and opened the door for Stiles.
Stiles eyed him for a moment, but decided it was just courtesy, nothing else. He stepped through. “Then let’s do this. The sooner it’s over, the better.”
The drive was mostly a haze to Stiles. He kept thinking about all the things he obviously didn’t know, the things that Laura had never told him. He wasn’t surprised by that exactly; there were some things that she wasn’t allowed to tell him until they were married. There were laws about it and everything. Still, he felt like there were other things she could have prepared him for.
Nothing would have ever prepared him for how much he was attracted to Derek. Stiles had always known that he was less concerned with the packaging than with the contents. He and Laura had even talked about that at one point, not long before the fire and her departure. Stiles looked out the window, lips quirking a little as he remembered her laughter as he’d flailed at her, freaking out because he’d reacted to a cute guy at school. She promised him that it was no big deal, that it was partly because of his age, but even if it meant that he wound up being gay, she’d find a way to make sure he was happy.
His smile faded as he thought about that. Find a way to make him happy. She sort of had. Stiles was fairly sure he could be happy with Derek, once they got past the initial awkward stage. As long as Derek remembered that Stiles wasn’t inferior just because he was human. Not that Derek seemed inclined to do that. He was just too use to werewolves treating humans like they were nothing.
“We’re here,” Derek said, interrupting his train of thought. “Ready?”
Stiles swallowed, took a deep breath, and nodded on the exhale. “Let’s go cement your status as the Beacon Hills Alpha.” He got out of the car, straightening his jacket. No need to look rumpled. Derek came up next to him, looking at him for a moment. He silently held out his hand to Stiles. Stiles looked at it for a moment before taking it. They walked into the council building like that. Side by side. It settled something in Stiles.
“Mr. Hale and Mr. Stilinski-Hale. Pleasure to see you,” a cocoa skinned woman greeted them with a placid smile. “The council is expecting you. Do you need a moment to compose yourselves?”
“No, thank you, Miss Morrell,” Derek said. “The sooner we get this over with, the better. I hate--” he cut himself off.
Miss Morrell smirked very slightly. “Yes, well. some things must be done to satisfy the laws,” she said. “Stiles? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Though since when are you anything but the high school counselor?” Stiles asked her. He’d finally gotten his sense of equilibrium back after being called “Stilinski-Hale”. He knew it was traditional, unless he decided to go with straight up Hale, but it was really odd to hear, without Laura there to be called the same thing.
“Since I go where I’m needed,” she said with the same placid smile. “Go right through that door.”
Derek kept his fingers laced with Stiles, which Stiles was profoundly grateful for when they entered the chamber and there were a dozen werewolves staring at them. His fingers twitched convulsively, but somehow, he kept his steps steady and even. He wouldn’t shame Derek or his father that way. He was stronger than that.
“Alpha Hale!” The man in the middle of the group said, a large smile that was not at all reassuring on his face. “Newly wed and mated, I see. Congratulations.”
“Whether they’re mated remains to be seen,” said a sour faced man on the right side of the table.
“Now, now, Jacob,” said the man in the middle. “Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt until we find evidence otherwise.” The sour faced man snarled, but didn’t say anything else.
“Alpha Hale, please bring your mate forward.”
Derek gave Stiles what he probably thought was an encouraging look, and pulled him across to the front of the room. “Thank you for seeing us, Alpha Carey, Councilors. This is my mate, Stiles Stilinski-Hale.”
Stiles gave them an awkward little wave, and a smile. “Hello.” He got a few smirks, but he also got a few warm smiles that helped to settle him a little. They weren’t so bad, right? They were just a bunch of alpha werewolves, in charge of their own territories years seated into their power so that they could shred him limb from limb…right. Not helping.
The woman sitting just to the right of Alpha Carey winked at him. Stiles was simultaneously more unsettled and reassured by that. Helpful!
“Mr. Stilinski-Hale, welcome to the Council chambers. Congratulations on your wedding. Please show us the mating mark, so that we may verify Alpha Hale’s new status,” Carey said. He watched expectantly, and Stiles was now very, very grateful that Derek had told him to leave the tie off, because he would have fumbled it and looked like a complete idiot.
He pulled off his suit jacket, letting Derek take it, and unbuttoned his shirt far enough that he could pull down the shoulder and expose the scars of the bite mark. He had studied it that morning, surprised that it looked like a years old scar. “Magic and werewolf healing,” Derek had told him. “You’re not a wolf,” he’d added at Stiles surprised and dismayed look, “but I am, and for this, my power came through for you.”
“Nice placement, Alpha,” Carey said, and then stood. “Come here, Mr. Stilinski-Hale.” When Stiles stepped right up to the table, he leaned forward and took a deep sniff.
Even with the preparation of what was to come, knowing that there would be sniffing of his bite mark to ensure authenticity, it was exceedingly bizarre to have someone’s face right up against his shoulder. Someone that wasn’t Derek, anyway. He’d already adjusted to that, oddly enough.
“Do you feel the connection with your Alpha?” Carey asked him.
Stiles nodded. “I do feel it,” he answered, and prepared to elaborate, but Carey leaned back and dismissed him with a flick of his fingers.
“Alpha Hale, we recognize your bond with your husband and mate, Stiles Stilinski-Hale.” Carey sat back down, focusing on Derek again, clearly dismissing Stiles.
Stiles felt a hand on his lower back, tugging at his waistband, and he stepped back, self consciously buttoning back up. As he did, Carey kept talking to Derek, ignoring Stiles completely. “As a mated alpha, you are granted full rights in the eyes of the Council, and the seat kept in trust for you by your uncle, Peter Hale, is now yours, should you choose to take it. You are within your rights to allow him to keep the seat as your representative. You are now also granted full rights to accept or decline members of your pack as you choose, including those you may want to turn from human.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles caught sight of someone smirking at him. He focused, and realized it was Peter Hale. Why? Because he thought Derek would let him keep the council seat? But that wouldn’t explain why he was smirking at Stiles. He didn’t really have a problem with the man. He’d met peter while he was getting to know Laura, and while he was a snide asshole, he wasn’t the villain that Scott tried to convince Stiles he was, once Scott had met him. But then, Scott only knew him after the fire and everything else that had happened with that.
He forced his attention away from the smirking Hale, and back on Carey. As the councilman kept talking, Stiles felt more and more like he was being deliberately and completely ignored. The more Carey went into all the rights and responsibilities he now had as a fully mated Alpha, the more he spoke only to Derek. And Derek just accepted it. He didn’t protest that Stiles was being ignored, like he was worthless, or just worth less because he was a human. The longer Carey talked, the longer Stiles was ignored, the angrier he got.
Why was he being ignored? He was the alpha’s mate, now, and he knew that he had responsibilities within the pack. Laura had made sure he knew that. So what was Derek’s problem? Stiles looked around the chamber a little, trying to keep his temper in check. He wouldn’t embarrass Derek by throwing a fit, but his husband sure as hell could expect to hear about it later.
Peter caught his eye again, and raised an eyebrow. Stiles focused on that eyebrow, wondering what Peter was trying to tell him. At his lower back, Derek’s hand fisted ever so slightly, sort of like the best he could imitate a squeeze with. Stiles realized that Derek’s hand had never moved from pulling him back, that he hadn’t let go of Stiles once during the whole speech.
Just like that, he went from angry to confused. Why hadn’t Derek moved his hand?
“Alpha Hale, Stiles Stilinski-Hale, thank you for your time here today,” Carey said, jerking Stiles back to the present before he could get too worked up and confused. He hastily bowed to the same level as Derek and left the council chamber with him.
Derek didn’t say anything until they were back in the car, but when they were finally belted in, he looked at Stiles, frowning. “Why did you smell so angry?”
Stiles paled a little. Smell. Sense of smell. Smirking Peter Hale. That eyebrow. Oh fuck. He groaned. “I completely forgot you’d be able to smell that,” he said, chagrined. “The entire council could smell it, couldn’t they?”
Derek glanced at him one last time, before heading out into traffic. “Maybe not,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “I was right next to you, so it would naturally be more obvious to me.”
“Your uncle was smirking at me.”
Derek snorted. “Peter smirks at everyone.”
Stiles sighed and looked out the window.
“You didn’t answer me,” Derek said after a few minutes. “Why you’re angry.”
Stiles didn’t turn back. “You let them ignore me,” he said quietly. He could almost hear Derek’s confusion in the resulting, and sighed. “You let them treat me like I was an object. Like I didn’t matter at all. After we talked about being equal.”
“But...” Derek hesitated. “You are. Why does it matter if they treat you any particular way, when we know the truth?”
Stiles turned and looked at him, surprised and a little appalled. “Seriously?” he asked.
Derek glanced at him as he turned a corner. “What?”
“You don’t see why this is a problem?”
“I really don’t,” he said. Stiles was struck by how lost he sounded, and a little bit more of his anger drained away.
“Derek, if the council doesn’t see me as your equal, it won’t matter what we do. They lead everyone. They control how the werewolf population does and sees things. Far too many people follow their lead. If they treat me that way, so will everyone else,” Stiles said.
Derek shook his head. “But it won’t matter,” he said, still sounding confused, “because I won’t treat you like that.”
Stiles sighed and went back to staring out the window. This wasn’t going to be anything like what he’d hoped for. He missed Laura.