A/N: This is an ABO Dynamics fic with ZERO MPREG (mpreg isn't a possibility in this 'verse) so with it comes the usual blanket dub-con warnings in regards to mentions of Omegas being accosted and molested by Alphas, as well as heat consent issues being raised. There's also discussion of the dub-con surrounding Mates/ Soul Mates. Also features alive Hale family, everyone as a werewolf, some de-aged characters (mainly the young'uns), and Jennifer Blake as a non-psycho bitch. Written for the 2015/16 round of the LiveJournal Teen Wolf Bigbang. I own nothing from Teen Wolf except a mad love for it. Title from FOOLS by Troye Sivan.

First of all, I have to give a HUGE shout out to my girl, Mathilde, without whom, I literally would not have finished this fic. Thank you so so so so so much for being on my ass about writing every day and keeping me motivated with your awesome cheerleading. Wouldn't have been able to do this without you.

Secondly, big thanks to Celeste for stepping up when my artist went MIA from the get-go and making me some kickass work. Like always ;)

Third, a shout out to the mods for all their hard work in the bang and giving me another excuse to write more porn featuring my OTP and indulge in my fave trope. Again.

Anything referenced within this fic was used with love. And sorry not sorry about all the Archer references. I fell in a deep unabiding love with that show while working on this fic and I make no apologies for it. \(^u^)/

Art located at dreammaidenn-dot-livejournal-dot-com-slash-10173-dot-html.

Derek Hale was nervous.

Which was weird, because usually, he wasn't. As an Alpha, he was used to being confident, self-assured, at times cocky. He wasn't sure if it was a personality quirk that came with his orientation or a result of things coming easy to him—athleticism, good grades, dates—but no matter the case, he'd managed to get through the first twenty-four years of his life with his head held high and the belief that he was gonna handle any and all situations he was involved in.

Until that moment.

Part of him figured it was due to the fact that he hadn't ever found himself in that situation, sitting in a principal's office, the principal herself—an Alpha named Ms Finch—behind the desk as he silently sat in an uncomfortable vinyl and metal chair across from her, waiting. He hadn't ever been called to the office when he'd actually attended high school, having gotten a good grasp on his Alpha nature, making him less prone to fights with others, typical posturing over self-proclaimed territory or claims on Omegas, a need to prove oneself as the better, tougher Alpha, out of control hormones and emotions making them more aggressive and antagonistic. He'd spent more time rolling his eyes at those who battled it out over who had the right to court an Omega than actually fighting for one himself—which was to say, he'd only ever dated one and he was calling bullshit on the belief that an Omega's scent drove an Alpha into a frenzy, because he'd been calm and rational throughout their entire two year relationship. Really, his only transgression was talking smack about any Alpha who pinned an Omega to anything and scented them, but that was usually kept to conversations with his friends, his girlfriend at the time, Paige, or his older sister, Laura.

So he'd managed to fly under the radar during his time at Beacon Hills High, managed to not let his Alpha-nature take over, had never wolfed out for any reason, so he'd never been called to the principal's office for any sort of reprimand. If anything, his self-control had caused the guidance counselor Ms Morrell to raise her eyebrow and worry he was bottling it up and letting it out in unhealthy ways at home. But a few sessions with her and a couple home visits to meet with his parents proved that he was perfectly, psychologically okay and just better at keeping a rein on his inner-animal than his classmates.

'Course he had a few worries himself about it, mainly thanks to jibes from Laura who called him a freak for not wolfing out or rubbing himself all over Paige in an obvious method of staking his claim on her, not going crazy over her scent or whining when she wasn't around. He never voiced those to Morrell but his mom had coaxed it out of him and she'd assured him it was perfectly okay. He was just advanced in his control, an old soul that skipped past the more aggressive stage of puberty and growing up, maturing faster than his classmates.

His firm grasp of his Alpha nature and his lack of experience being in the principal's office was clearly a cause for his nerves, not to mention the fact that he was there for a job interview, something that would make even the most confident person feel a little less assured in themselves. But he kept reminding himself that everything was okay, that he had this in the bag. A recent graduate of Stanford with a Masters in Education, experience student teaching, a job in high school at a daycare center as an assistant in the room that catered towards more middle school aged kids, and had babysat his younger sister, Cora, his cousin Malia, as well as the kids of a couple family friends, Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. Not to mention the fact that as an Alpha, he was a natural born leader with more assertive tendencies and an ability to have others follow him—not that he'd ever Alpha commanded anyone to do anything, despite how tempted he'd been during the aforementioned babysitting, but he still had the power to do so. He was perfectly qualified for the job he was after and should've been feeling every confidence in the world.

But he wasn't.

Ms. Finch's scent wasn't helping, the dread and worry coloring it, the way her lips were twisted to the side as she read over his resume for the third time. She'd already asked him the usual requisite questions, asked about his daycare job and what that entailed, asked about his student teaching stints, made jokes about the babysitting and dealing with young kids, commented on the praise of the teachers whose classes he'd shadowed. She'd seemed incredibly impressed and Derek had truly believed that he had the whole thing on lock.

Up until that moment when the dread and worry had leaked into her scent and she'd sighed in a way that spoke more of regret than anything, placing his resume back on her desk.

He sat up straighter, resisting the urge to adjust his black skinny tie or smooth down his vest once more, knowing they were still immaculate and that nothing could've changed that in the five minutes since he'd last fiddled with his clothing. He wondered if maybe he should've gone more casual, given her own wardrobe of khaki capris and gray sleeveless blouse—acceptable teacher wear given it was the start of summer vacation and most teachers were there only to pack up their classrooms and submit final grades—but decided against that, knowing it was better to look professional and slightly overdressed than not. He then wondered if maybe he should've shaved rather than just trimmed his beard, but Laura had constantly called him out for his baby-face and the last thing he wanted was to be mistaken for a wayward student trespassing on school property when there were no classes.

No, his appearance was fine. It was something else that seemed to be bothering the principal.

She let out another sigh, hand running through straight brown hair before she folded both on top of his resume. An apologetic smile was on her face and he braced himself for the worst, chin slightly tipping up as he held eye contact in a manner that spoke of confidence and not intimidation, not wanting to seem as though he was challenging another Alpha.

"Your resume is very impressive," she commented, the dread and worry in her scent giving way to remorse and regret and he swallowed hard against it. "But unfortunately, there's one problem with it."

He mentally swore, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of her desk. "I know I don't have a lot of experience. I just graduated and this is my first real teaching job, but I assure you—"

"That's not the issue," she interrupted, tone hard, and he shut his mouth with an audible click, leaning back so that he was sitting upright once more.

He was sure that would be the only problem, everything else was perfect. His grades, his GPA, his recommendations, his other experience dealing with kids. Maybe his age was an issue, but he wasn't entirely sure that was it. Having a birthday so late in the year meant he'd actually started school late, so he was always older than his classmates. The extra year for his Masters degree put him yet another year above the age of those he'd be teaching, so he didn't really think it was any sort of problem.

"Any new teacher with no real experience beyond that of student teaching, such as yourself," she gestured to him before refolding her hands and continuing. "We'd start them off on a part-time basis as a substitute for a year or so, depending on how well they do and if there's a position available in whatever department they wanted to teach in."

Derek slowly nodded once, thinking that made sense, give a new educator a trial run of sorts and if they didn't work out, they could always be let go. Wasn't like you could get tenure as a part-time sub.

"And while I'd love to give you that opportunity with your stellar record and excellent resume, I'm afraid I can't." The apologetic smile made its way back to her face and she folded her forearms neatly on her desk before leaning forward. "California regulations state that any un-Mated and un-Bonded Alpha may not teach at any school where underaged and un-Bonded Omegas attend. If we were an Alpha only institute, it wouldn't be a problem, but Beacon Hills High is a mixed dynamic school, meaning that law applies to us."

He sat there stunned, staring, mouth hanging open for a long moment before he finally barked out a disbelieving laugh and a "what?"

Ms. Finch lifted her hands in a helpless gesture as she nodded. "It's been proven that an un-Bonded Alpha is more susceptible to an un-Bonded Omega's scent and therefore more likely to be sent into a frenzy, especially when the Omega is hormonal and-or close to their Heat, which we have a lot of here at Beacon Hills High. We can't have older Alphas coming in and trying to claim minor Omegas solely because they smell good."

He huffed in disbelief once more, shaking his head, unable to buy what he was hearing. It was fucking ridiculous and so full of stereotypes and bullshit that he couldn't figure out where to begin to argue. "But you have un-Bonded Alphas in your student populace that are just as likely, if not more, to try and claim an Omega, given the fact that their own hormones are just as out of whack and their control is weaker than a fully matured Alpha like myself."

"True," she conceded with a bob of the head. "But they're on the same level as those Omegas and therefore can't use a position of power and authority to bend an Omega's whims to their own or blackmail them into servicing an Alpha."

"No, they're just more likely to get caught up in a fight between two teenage Alphas and get bruised and beat up," he spat out, mind thinking of his Omega best friend Isaac Lahey and the time two Alphas had fought over him during gym when they were juniors, both of them too caught up in their own Alpha bullshit that when the claws came out, Isaac had gotten scratched up as well.

"Look, Mr Hale," Ms. Finch sighed in exasperation, hand rubbing at her forehead, eyes closed. "I don't make the laws, I just follow them. And until you have a Bond-Mate at the very least, I can't hire you." She dropped her hand to the desk, staring him down with a hard look she probably used on the delinquents that came to her office rather than those looking for a job. "I'll keep your resume on file, but that's all I can do. I'm sorry."

He opened his mouth to argue, to point out his perfect control and inform her of the fact that he'd never, not once, felt the compulsion to claim an Omega against their will, how he thought the thrall that an Omega's scent held over an Alpha was bullshit since he'd never experienced it, how even his own siblings thought he was actually a Beta since he'd never been driven to follow an Omega's scent or been put into a frenzy because of it. But it was no use. The law was the law, something he'd repeatedly told Isaac when he lamented restrictions on Omegas, when he'd fought hard to get out of his father's control and away from his abuse, only to be met with roadblock after roadblock because he was an Omega and his father was an Alpha and therefore had rights over him. It wasn't until Derek had stepped in and agreed to become legally responsible for him that Isaac was allowed to sever all ties to his dad.

So yeah, Derek was aware of restrictions placed on dynamics. He just didn't think there were any placed on Alphas.

Price to pay for equality, he figured, hating it for selfish reasons yet glad they were there, glad the law was catching up to the times.

Licking his lips, he nodded, forcing a smile on his face as he rose to his feet. "Thank you for your time," he murmured to her, adjusting his vest and grabbing his leather satchel where he'd left it on the floor.

Ms. Finch gave him that same apologetic smile from before as she stood up herself, holding her right hand out. "I'm sorry it couldn't work out at this time."

He nodded dumbly as he shook it, strap of his satchel now over his shoulder, before he walked out the room in a daze. The Omega secretary still seated at her own station gave him a cheery goodbye, grinning wide as she waved flirtatiously, eyes drifting down to check out his crotch and his ass in a not-so-subtle maneuver he was honestly used to at that point in his life. He didn't acknowledge the stare or her words, just continued on his way out the office, down the hall, out the school itself.

Laura had called him crazy for wanting to be a teacher, especially a high school one, wondering why the fuck he would willingly sign himself up for a lifetime of Hell comprised of essays, exams, and hormones. He always shoved her away in a playful manner, calling her the crazy one for wanting to put up with late nights of reviewing court cases and dealing with asshole clients as well as all the stress of being a lawyer, unable to explain his drive to be a teacher to her, something she used to further argue he was just fucking nuts.

As he walked down the steps towards the parking lot where his Camaro sat waiting for him, he was beginning to wonder if maybe she was right.

"I'll sue."

Derek snorted from his seat at the breakfast bar in the Hale kitchen, rolling his eyes at Laura as she stood on the opposite side. Her hand was on her hip, lips pursed, eyes narrowed in the determination that colored her scent. Her dark wavy hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, gray slacks and black sleeveless blouse adorning her tall frame, and as Derek stared up at her, he could make out the light freckles that adorned the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks that she claimed she hated yet never covered up.

"I'm serious," she proclaimed, putting her beer bottle on the counter before folding her arms over her chest, eyebrows raising. "I'll do it. It's discrimination against the un-Bonded and violates the Equal Opportunity Employment Act."

He bobbed his own eyebrows in concession, knowing she had a point, but also knowing she was technically wrong, having researched any and all acts and legislature regarding his denied employment.

After his interview had ended, he'd headed back to his loft to change, ditching the tie, vest, and button down for a v-neck tee before lazing around his place in what he'd admit was a mopey fashion. He'd briefly considered skipping the Weekly Hale Family Dinner, only to realize he couldn't, that his mom had already postponed it a day so everyone could attend—apparently Cora had gotten a little too into her high school graduation celebration and spent the day in bed lamenting alcohol and life in general—and there was no way he could get out of skipping it, not when he'd missed the last two with the excuses of moving and getting settled into his new place.

So he'd shown up at his parents' house, being greeted by Laura who immediately declared that he reeked and needed a beer to help him out, tugging him into the kitchen and getting him a cold one before he'd regaled her with the tale of his interview only hours before.

Which she promptly decided to sue the school for.

"As much as I appreciate the sentiment," he started, grabbing hold of his bottle and lifting it to his lips. "Pretty sure the California Omega Safety in Education Act and the laws against statutory rape as well as the school rules forbidding student-teacher relationships trump all that." He tipped his bottle at her before drinking deep, relishing the cold suds and the harsh bite of wolfsbane in the brew that would allow him to feel the affects of the alcohol.

She scoffed, rolling her green eyes before moving to shove her hand through hair that was already pulled back. "It's still discrimination. It's basically saying all un-Bonded Alphas are animals who can't keep it in their pants the moment they smell an Omega, which is wholly untrue." She shrugged a shoulder and shook her head like it wasn't a big deal, playing the whole thing off, and he stared at her dubiously. "Just because a few assholes out there have taken advantage of and raped Omegas with the bullshit excuse of being unable to resist their smell doesn't mean all of us are like that. Some of us can handle this shit and can rein in that side of us that needs to claim and possess and mark, ya know?"

"Yeah, I know," he muttered, scratching at his jaw, whiskers rasping against his fingers. "I guess they just worry over accidentally hiring one of the assholes or someone with weak control who'll smell an Omega close to their Heat and won't hold back on trying to claim. Last thing they want is to get sued because a teacher smelled a ripe Omega and pounced, so to speak."

She seesawed her head as she considered his point, bobbing her eyebrows in a wordless way of admitting he was right. "True. Did you try telling her that you're a freak who's apparently immune to Omegas?"

He glared at her, the angry stare intensifying as she giggled around the lip of her bottle.

"Laura, stop calling your brother a freak," their mom chastised, making her way into the kitchen dressed in a burgundy wrap dress, feet bare of any shoes as was her usual habit when at home. She paused by her son, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and jostling him affectionately. "He's special."

Derek shot a smug grin at his older sister, barely withholding the urge to stick his tongue out at her.

"Yeah. 'Specially weird," Laura muttered into her bottle before drinking, their mom's disapproval at her words coloring her scent.

Talia let go of Derek and walked around to the opposite side of the breakfast bar, waiting for Laura to place her beer back on the counter before smacking her upside the head. "Be nice," she warned, pointing a finger at her eldest child before making her way to the oven to check on dinner.

"Oh, c'mon, Mom," Laura groaned, turning to face her, arms folding over her chest once more. "You gotta admit it's a little weird that Derek hasn't ever felt the pull of an Omega's scent like that. Even Cora admits she has and she wants nothing to do with Mates or courting or any of that."

Their mom shrugged a shoulder from where she was leaning down to glance into the open oven, closing it with a sigh before she straightened up. "It's a little strange, yes," she admitted, peering around her daughter to look at her son. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but it is unusual. It's not really heard of all that much. If ever."

Derek frowned at his bottle, picking at the edge of the label as his shoulders slumped. Okay, so he knew it was rare for an Alpha to not be totally enraptured by an Omega's scent, but the way he understood it, it was generally just their instincts telling them a suitable breeding partner was near and to procreate with them ASAP so the species and the family line could continue on—not that that was even possible with same sex pairs, but the wolf smelled "fertile Omega" and all logic went out the window. Maybe Derek's instincts knew he wasn't ready to be a dad. Maybe Derek just wasn't suited to sire any pups or raise them. Maybe he was defective in some way like Laura was always jokingly saying he was.

Maybe...

"Exactly," Laura agreed, seemingly unaware of her little brother's internal worries and his self-conscious beliefs over his inabilities to be a father. "While the rest of us have embarrassing memories of being so caught up in an Omega's scent that we lost track of space, time, and everything else, Derek has been freakishly normal and in control of himself, even while dating an Omega."

Derek's frown deepened and he began wringing the back of his neck, remembering his time in high school with Paige. Yes, she smelled good, in that sweet way that all Omegas did, but he'd always been perfectly content with a whiff here and there of it, while most other Alphas in relationships were constantly plastering their noses to their partner and inhaling deeply, letting out rumbling growls of pleasure at it and acting almost high. He remembered watching Alphas following Omegas around, blissfully unaware they were even doing it, eyes almost glazed over from it. He remembered seeing an Alpha once tear apart a locker to get to the scent of an Omega on a jacket they'd hung up before running around the school trying to track it down, campus security having to be called in to sedate him.

He remembered Laura telling about how she'd once followed an Omega from class to class in high school because she'd smelled so good, how she'd followed one home from a bar at college only to remember her apartment was on the other side of town. He remembered Cora sheepishly admitting that her mortified scent came from the fact that she'd gotten detention for entering the boys locker room just to find the source of a sweet Omega scent that was driving her mad.

He remembered how he'd never experienced any of that.

He remembered asking Laura about it and she'd simply shrugged and said "I dunno, maybe you're defective."

He remembered asking his mom and she'd kissed his cheek and said he was a late bloomer and that he was special.

He remembered questioning his own dynamic and how maybe the doctors had gotten it wrong when he was a kid, only to be disproven by the knots he'd pop during wet dreams and the Rut he'd go into every year.

And it wasn't that he wasn't attracted to Omegas, because he was. He knew they smelled good in the same objective way he knew models were attractive or that sports cars were just plain sexy. He'd loved the way Paige had smelled and helping her through her Heats in high school had been some of the greatest moments of his life. Yet he'd never been completely enthralled or enraptured by a scent the way other Alphas had.

Which made his rejection of a job sting that much more, because the reasons for it didn't really seem to apply to him.

"As great as this whole conversation is," Derek butted in, waving his hand around to encompass the whole thing. "None of it really seems to matter in the eyes of the law, meaning I'm not getting the job until I get a Bond-Mate."

His mom gave him a sad smile from her position by the stove where she was stirring a pot of mashed potatoes. The scent of her empathy overpowered that of the roast she had cooking in the oven and he swallowed hard at it. His intention had never been to get any sort of pity or have his mom look at him so sad, helpless to do anything for her son. Because she was helpless, they all were. There was absolutely nothing any of them could do to change anything.

The law was the law.

"What if we argue it?" Laura suggested, straightening up from where she'd been slumped against the counter. Her green eyes were lit up with a dangerous spark Derek recognized as her having an idea, determination in her scent, and he braced himself for whatever craziness was about to come out her mouth. "We can gather some witnesses, get them to sign sworn affidavits saying that Derek has not once gone after an Omega for any reason nor has he ever suffered the dazed effects caused by an Omega's scent."

Their mom sighed, tapping her wooden spoon on the edge of the pot before placing it on a holder to the side. "You know that won't work, hun," she argued, turning to face her two kids, arms folding over her chest. "The law states that any un—"

"Fuck the law, Mother. Honestly."

"That's great to hear, coming from a lawyer."

He tuned their discussion out, attention grabbed by the front door opening and voices drifting in, his younger sister getting up from her position on the couch to greet their new guests. He sorted through all the voices and scents, trying to piece together who had arrived. He recognized his cousin Malia, exchanging pleasantries with Cora. The scent of puppy-covered Alpha was clearly Scott, fresh from a shift at the animal clinic Derek's mom said he worked at now, voice deeper than Derek remembered it being as he said his hellos.

The third arrival however...

Derek's nose lifted in the air, scenting, trying to figure out what exactly it was he was smelling. Omega, clearly, male given the hint of testosterone, but...But there was more to it than that.

Before he knew what he was doing, Derek had risen up from his stool and was heading straight for the living room, his nose guiding the way. The rest of the world melted away, his mom's curious calling of his name unheard, the conversations around him not registering, his vision barely keeping him from walking into anything. As it was, he bumped the corner of the couch, instincts telling him to take one step to the left before continuing on, letting that scent pull him in, draw him closer, closer, closer...

A tall lean male turned out to be the source, tawny hair messily styled up, musical laughter trilling out his smiling mouth. Not that Derek paid much to attention to what he was seeing, his brain shutting down any and all systems that didn't have to do with his legs walking and his nose smelling as he continued on his way to the Omega. Because his every breath in drew more of that scent into his lungs, a head-spinning mix of sweet and sugary, maple syrup and powdered sugar, along with a sense of home, of pack, of mine.

Yeah, his, this was Derek's, this was all his. And as he inhaled more of what he knew to be his Omega, he felt his cock harden inside his jeans, twitching with the need to be buried within this male, to tie him to his knot and never let him go. His wolf was rumbling in his head, the noise damn close to a purr, practically showing its belly in pleasure and delight. Yeah, this was good, this was right, this was...

Malia reached over and punched the Omega in the arm and Derek reacted without a single thought in his head. Without even really being conscious of moving, he stood between his cousin and their guest, holding on to the Omega's wrist as he moved the young man further behind him. He got right in Malia's face, snarling through fangs, red eyes burning bright, wolf feeling triumphant as she stumbled back a pace or two with wide eyes, surprise and a hint of fear in her scent. A gasp sounded out behind him, and he made sure to keep his claws free of the Omega's skin, to make sure he wasn't hurt. Because Derek wasn't after the Omega, oh no. He needed to make this other Alpha aware of what she did, make sure she knew who she'd hurt, whose property she was messing with, whose territory she was encroaching upon.

"Derek!"

He froze at the scandalized note in his mother's scent, the fog over his mind clearing up and he suddenly realized what the fuck he'd done. Oh Christ, Finch had been right not to hire him because the second he'd smelled available Omega, he'd dropped everything and blindly gone after it in a daze, had threatened another Alpha for daring to touch what he stupidly believed was his.

Shit.

Carefully releasing the wrist he was grasping, he stepped to the side and ducked his head, unable to look the Omega in the eye. Instead, he took in a blue graphic tee with a neon green 8-bit robot on it and khaki pants, Adidas sneakers completing the look. Long fingers were curling and uncurling at his sides, like he was unsure if he was supposed to clench his fists and hold back or not. And at the front of his pants was a barely there bulge of someone who was most definitely soft and not at all turned on by recent events, definitely not impressed by the Alpha pissing contest Derek had just gotten into.

Double shit.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back, chancing a look up at who he'd just been drawn to, eyes widening and jaw dropping when he recognized them. Granted it wasn't exactly the Stiles he remembered. No, that Stiles had been a few inches shorter with long limbs he couldn't quite control yet, buzzed hair making him look even younger than his thirteen years, brown eyes impossibly wide as he looked at everything Derek did with the awe of a child. But this Stiles before him was now the same height as himself, his hair grown out and soft looking, baby fat gone from his face and revealing sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. Granted those brown eyes of his were still wide and doe-like and the moles that had been scattered over his barely tanned flesh were still there in their same patterns, but it was almost like looking at an entirely different person.

Almost.

Although in all honesty, Derek kinda wished it had been an entirely different person, one he didn't know and his family didn't know and he hadn't once babysat. The humiliation of what he'd just done would be a whole lot easier to handle if it'd just been a total stranger he'd gone after and he could just walked away, never to see that person again. But no, this was a family friend who spent just as much time at the Hale house as he did his own, who used to sleepwalk his way through the Preserve to get here when he'd had nightmares and his dad was on the night shift, who had as many memories of playing in these woods as he did his own front yard.

Triple shit.

"You know, most people just say 'hi' when they meet up with someone they'd barely seen the past five years," Stiles commented, shit-eating grin on his face that brought to Derek's mind similar looks when the Omega thought he'd gotten away with sneaking extra cookies or had convinced Scott to jump off of something, or was about to jump off something himself.

The tips of his ears were burning in embarrassment, wolf covering its face with his paws as it whimpered in mortification, the emotion more than likely flooding his scent. Fuck, what a stupid move. What a truly thoughtless, boneheaded move. What a fucking Alpha move, to just grab hold of an Omega and manhandle them away from another Alpha, all because of his smell, not even caring who it was or how they may have felt about it.

Ducking his head once more, he stepped back even further, wringing his neck as he shuffled away from Stiles. Not that it helped anything. The damage had been done, witnessed by his entire family—plus Scott, who was practically an outlier Hale at that point—and there was no way this would ever be let go or forgotten about. No, he was gonna hear about this shit for a long, long time.

Worst of all, was that despite the distance he put between himself and Stiles, every inhale still brought in that delicious scent, as though his brain—and more than likely his wolf—were both trying to specifically sort it out from all the other smells in the air, focusing solely on sugarsweethomepackmine.

"Well then," Laura commented from the side and Derek closed his eyes tight as though that could prevent him from hearing the next words that would come out her mouth. "Guess we were wrong about Derek being a freak."

He lifted his head and turned it to find his mom giving her a chastising look from their spot just inside the hallway, Laura's expression more feigned innocence as she shrugged with her mouth hanging open, like she couldn't understand why the matriarch was looking at her like that. With a sigh, their mom shook her head, thick black hair swishing on her shoulders, before she turned and headed back to the kitchen to finish up dinner.

The scent of confusion hit Derek's nose, Stiles stepping closer to the remaining female, pointing at where the other had just disappeared. "What do you mean? How is Derek being a freak?" he questioned in genuine curiosity, brow furrowed. The expression only changed when Scott not so subtly made his way to stand between him and Derek, a subconscious need for the Alpha to protect his Omega friend from another Alpha who may pose a threat of some form.

Which he was probably right to. Because Derek was having trouble focusing on anything for more than two seconds before his mind was switching back to Stiles' scent and how he could get more of it. The Scott-buffer helped though, not only preventing him from reaching the Omega—a fact that his wolf wasn't happy about, but the human part of him was thankful for—but covering up the sugar-sweet smell in the air with his own muskier Alpha scent.

His wolf whimpered in his head and he ignored it, roughing his hands over his face as though he could erase the smell of Stiles from his nose, from his mind, but it was too late. It was seared in there, branding him as...well, he wasn't sure as what, just that he was now forever scarred by that scent and there was no way he'd ever forget it.

For better or worse.

"How is Derek not a freak?" Cora said with a snort and he dropped his hand to scowl at her. Their mom yelled her name in chastisement from the kitchen and she rolled her brown eyes, folding her arms over her chest as she cocked a hip out in sass that seemed to be a Hale trait at times.

Not that Derek was sassy. More like snarky. The Hale females on the other hand, total sass.

Stiles frowned from his place on the other side of Scott, scent flooding with more confusion, mouth opening to speak only to get cut off by Laura.

"C'mon, Buns. Let's go set the table or something," she suggested to her brother, looping her arm around his, ignoring how his scowl shifted so it was now aimed at her. Fuck, he hated that nickname.

A chuckle sounded out from behind and Derek pretended he didn't hear it, pretended like it didn't affect him and that his heart didn't skip a beat and that his stomach didn't do this weird swooping thing and that he didn't wanna turn around and do a whole bunch of stupid shit to keep that sound going forever.

But Laura knew anyway, could always tell, smirk forming on her face that he spied out the corner of his eyes. "Dinner's sure gonna be an interesting one tonight," she commented, his scowl deepening as he stared straight ahead.

He always hated when she was right.

Dinner turned out to be okay.

Mostly.

Until the plates were cleared and his mom brought out pie and Malia asked the the worst question one could ask at that moment.

"Hey, Der? How'd your job interview go today?"

Silence descended over the table, Laura and his mom pausing their ongoing debate over the proper way to make a crust for the top of an apple pie, Stiles stopping what he was telling Cora about the latest Marvel movie trailer, Scott freezing with a forkful of pie halfway to his mouth. Normally a question like that wouldn't warrant such a reaction, but considering how Derek, Laura, and their mom had gone tense all over, their scents reluctant and worried and upset and pissed—the last one mainly coming from Derek—it had sparked a certain amount of curiosity from the rest of the dinner party, every eye at the table flipping over to him.

Shit.

He carefully placed his fork on the edge of his plate, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his mother's disapproving tone by slamming the silverware down the way he wanted to. Clearing his throat, he laid his forearm on the table parallel to his body, free hand smoothing down his hair at the back of his head. "I didn't get the job," he stated flatly, ending it with a shrug, like that was that and there was nothing that could be done.

Which was the truth really.

Stiles yelled out a disbelieving "what?!", Scott joining in with a "no way" of his own, Cora following with a "no shit?"

Which promptly got her scolded for the bad language.

Derek shrugged again, folding his arms. "Yeah, some bull about un-Bonded Alphas not being allowed to teach un-Bonded, underaged Omegas."

"It's discrimination and it's stupid and unfair," Laura chimed in, stabbing a forkful of pie in the air at nothing before putting it in her mouth.

"Agreed," he added.

A snort came from the other end of the table and he peered down to see Stiles rolling not just his eyes, but his entire head. "Check your fu-reaking Alpha privilege, man," he stated harshly, a verbal middle finger aimed in Derek's direction. He leaned over the table, eyes hard, hand practically vibrating with the unkempt anger that was flooding his scent. "At least you got a damn interview. You know how many jobs I had to apply for in high school before that crap-ass grocery store called me in for an interview? And even then my freaking dad had to come in with me to vouch for me as my Alpha and make sure I had permission to even work in the first place."

The table full of Alphas all felt thoroughly chastised, every one of them ducking their heads or looking away, the Hale matriarch giving Stiles a sad smile that every parent gave when they wished there was something they to do to fix whatever was bothering their kid. But Derek on the other hand, he was still feeling pretty fucking bitter over the insinuation that he was so out of control of himself and his wolf that he wasn't allowed to be around any Omegas out of the ridiculous belief that he'd scent-mark them without permission—or worse. So he didn't duck his head or look away, just kept staring at Stiles with his own angry expression, with his own narrowed eyes and tense jaw and flat brow.

"Well, I apologize to you if losing out on my dream job isn't as big a deal to you as it is to me," he snarked, sarcastic smile on his face that was met with another eye roll.

"At least you could study for it, could even apply in the first place," Stiles snipped right back. "My criminal justice degree from BHU is gonna be nothing more than a desk ornament because Omegas aren't allowed to be on the streets." His tone became more mocking towards the end as he let it be known how he felt about the policy of law enforcement divisions across the country.

Derek knew he should've backed down, knew that as an Alpha he was afforded more privileges and granted more freedom than Stiles was as an Omega, but the sting from his job rejection was still fresh, the burn from it back tenfold after being reminded about it. So he lashed out, so he argued, so he kept running his mouth despite knowing in the back of his mind that it was stupid and pointless. "At least you can even get hired by the sheriff's department. No school will touch me unless I'm Bonded to someone out of some archaic BS belief that Alphas can't control themselves when around an un-Claimed Omega and we're just gonna try and jump all of them because we're nothing but animals with no manners or social grace."

The younger man huffed out a disbelieving laugh, rolling his eyes for the third time in as many minutes. "Yeah, well, not every Alpha is as in control as the great and powerful Derek Hale," he replied, waving his hands around in a derisive fashion. "Seriously. Just get the fu-udge over it and move on. Things could be a whole lot worse for you, ya know?" At that, he slumped in his seat, jaw now working in upset as he stared unseeing at where his fork was picking at pie crust. The fight was gone from him, replaced by a sad acceptance of his lot in life and upset over the fact that he couldn't change a damn thing about it, no matter how badly he wanted to.

And while Derek did feel bad for him and did wish things weren't like that for Stiles and Omegas nationwide, he still couldn't help but be pissed about his own situation and how the Omega at the table had reacted to it. "Just because things suck for you, doesn't mean they don't suck for me," he pointed out through a tense jaw and narrowed eyes. "Don't dismiss someone else's problems just because yours may be worse or try to outdo someone's anger or sadness. It just makes you look like an insensitive asshole." Having said his piece, he rose to his feet, tossing his napkin on top of his plate and the half-eaten slice of pie that still sat on it.

His mom immediately straightened up in her seat, lips parting as she watched him step away from the table, obviously figuring out what he was doing. "You're leaving?" she asked in a mix of surprise and melancholy, not wanting him to leave.

"Yeah," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for dinner. It was delicious." He waved to the table at large, meeting everyone's eyes—except Stiles', who were still focused on his own dessert as he stubbornly refused to admit he was peeking up at Derek—as he said a general goodbye to the group.

Really, he should've known that his day would end on a shitty note, considering how it started on one. He needed to stop being so damn optimistic. But sometimes it couldn't be helped. Maybe it was an Alpha thing, to think he deserved good things in life and that everything was just gonna be sunshine and roses. So much other shit came easy to him: sports, schoolwork, sex—if he ever even attempted to actually get laid. Now that he was thinking about it, his only real hardship had come when his dad was killed in a freak wrong place-wrong time shoot-out at Beacon Hills First National Bank. The law of averages said he was due for some bad shit.

Sitting in the front seat of his Camaro, he sighed long and hard. In the back of his mind, his paranoid thought made sense, and he knew this. Things couldn't always been all good; the pendulum had to swing the other way. But why did it have to happen right when he was starting his real adult life? Getting turned down for a job, that freak thing with Stiles' scent. Fuck knew what else was gonna happen.

He shoved the negative thoughts away and started up his car, determined to salvage the rest of his day with a good book. And maybe a pint of ice cream. He'd fucking earned it at that point.