Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary: Title is a lyric from the Aqua song 'Turn Back Time.' I started writing this fic before season 2 aired so there's no beta trio.

LIKE A THIEF IN THE NIGHT

Despite it being an uncomfortably popular opinion, Stiles is not an idiot. He's been helping his best friend adjust to a suddenly more hairy and toothy lifestyle and he's surviving, okay? That takes some skills. And a lot of awesome improv. Even Scott knows that he'd have trouble dealing without Stiles at his back. Allison's definitely noticed and makes sure to thank Stiles a lot. Allison's many things, but she isn't stupid. Thank God, because Scott needs all the help he can get.

Anyway, Stiles has skills, okay? It's not his fault that the pack has serious holes in its knowledge. And Derek can order them around and take charge all he likes, but he cannot keep expecting them to know how to behave and how to respond to everything. He's got to tell them this stuff, not just kick their asses when they get it wrong. Surely that's Alpha 101? Apparently not in Derek's world. And it's affecting the pack's dynamic.

Like Scott's still nursing the whole 'I must find a cure and rid myself of this curse' thing so he's doing a lot of brooding and not following orders, which probably isn't helping Derek's mood. Stiles totally sympathizes there. It took him years to come up with a foolproof way to keep Scott from running into literal and metaphoric walls. Then there's Jackson who acts like he wants to be leader of the pack but clearly just really wants people around him and somebody to take charge. And Lydia's full of attitude enough for everybody, snarking at Derek every chance she gets. Yeah, Stiles sees how that might shorten Derek's already not-lengthy fuse. Oh, and there's also the extremely inconvenient and exceptionally strong feelings that Stiles has been harboring for their Alpha and that he's doing his best to hide, hoping that Derek's even more inconvenient super wolf senses haven't noticed yet because that will do nothing but rock the boat even more. Yeah, pack life is pretty miserable.

The pack really don't know much. They haven't got all the knowledge that Derek has and that he expects them to just know and that frustrates him – Stiles can totally read what each angry twitch of Derek's expression signals and frustration is becoming a constant there. And Stiles is getting really sick of meetings filled with bristling and snarling and anger. He's also sick of not having the answers when Scott looks at him in bewilderment. How can he have Scott's back if he doesn't know what should be happening in the werewolf world? And he really really wants Derek to lose some of that constant tension and coiled anger that's so clearly weighing him down and making the bags under his eyes deepen. It make Stiles want to do ridiculous embarrassing things like force Derek to sleep and to eat meals that aren't rabbits killed by his bare hands...bare claws?

Stiles spends what little spare time he has hunkered down in the library, when he's not hanging out with Scott or the pack, or making sure that his Dad doesn't clog his arteries. The librarians get used to seeing him and he gets used to the weird smell in the Fantasy Section which Stiles is just itching to change to a Very Much Fact Section. But hey, that would give Derek something new to growl about. Not that he needs it. And yeah, Stiles is really going to stop thinking about how much he likes Derek's growl.

What Stiles finds at the library is a lot of folklore, which could all be true so he gets everything written down. Any of it could help, right? Then there's cross-referencing to be done and hey if Derek could confirm any of this, that would be great, but it's also clearly Not Going To Happen. But...Stiles taps a pencil against his jaw with the sudden energy of a kickass idea. Derek won't confirm anything, but his house might. Okay, not the actual house, but what's in it. Stiles scoops all the books onto the nearest shelf and hares out of the library. He has time before his Dad starts literally calling out the cavalry.

He knocks on the door a couple of times – his heart skittering out a message of you're going to ask about his family, he's going to tear out your throat – before Derek answers. Stiles bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, to remind his body that it isn't going to react to the sculpted man in front of him, absolutely not. Derek's frown deepens.

"Okay, do you have books here?"

Derek continues to glare. "...What?"

"Books...the things with pages in that you sometimes throw at Jackson? Specifically, I need wolf books. Lore, academics, old family stories, anything."

Derek's looking almost confused now which feels like a victory so Stiles ploughs on. "You expect us to know stuff and we don't so I'm researching the hell out of weres and now I need to sort the fact from the fiction and I figured you might have stuff here to help with that. Like books."

There's silence as Derek's gaze sweeps him carefully and measuringly. And yes, okay, Stiles' heart-rate totally rockets at how very hot it feels to be the focus of that kind of intense Derek attention, but hopefully the Alpha will read it as nerves and then the inevitable mocking and fury won't make an appearance. Finally, after what feels like forever, Derek makes room in the doorway.

"Upstairs. Don't go into my room."

Stiles blinks. Because, really? Wow, Derek being reasonable. A miracle. Also, really hot. Argh, bad thoughts in Derek's presence.

"Ah, thanks, awesome! Upstairs. Right."

Stiles slithers past Derek and makes for the sanctuary of the first floor. He sticks his head cautiously around one still-slightly-charred wall – Derek's making his way through renovations slowly, like maybe he's savoring each part of his family's old home before he knocks it down and starts fresh. Yeah, Stiles gets why he's taking his time. There's clothes of his Mom's that his Dad still hasn't thrown out. Stiles likes to visit them sometimes, to feel the familiar fabrics and breathe in his Mom's perfume.

There's books piled up in one room. Clearly Derek hasn't gotten round to organizing them yet. Stiles drops his bag and laptop case and starts reading. Seems like a lot was saved from the fire. Of course the Hales wouldn't have had this kind of stuff out on display. Maybe they had a store off-site for full moons. It sounds like the sort of thing that Derek would do. Maybe he gets that from his parents.

It's a couple of hours later that Derek comes to find him. Stiles has books spread out around him as he scans all he can – hey, he came prepared – and tries to get them into some sort of order. Derek looks mockingly amused. Stiles snaps a book shut in triumph.

"Laugh all you want. But you'll be thanking me when Scott and Jackson stop asking the same questions over and over again and making meetings even more boring."

Derek narrows his eyes at that and Stiles quickly backpedals. "Not that the meetings are boring. Nope, absolutely not. Totally riveting."

Okay, that doesn't help. But the point stands and Stiles is almost positive that he's knee-deep in the answer here. He says as much, gesturing at the debris around him. Derek makes a noise in his chest that causes Stiles to break out in goosebumps. Then Derek gives a sharp nod. It's as close to a 'good job' that Stiles is going to get from him – another miracle – so he grins, says he'll be back for more later, and hightails it home before the phonecalls start.

He might spend some of his evening jerking off to thoughts of his most recent encounter with Derek. But thankfully, Derek does not choose that night to appear at Stiles' window and therefore does not smell Stiles' sticky and extremely enthusiastic activities. Thank God.

Stiles is only a quarter way into his Awesome Research Mountain when it becomes clear that he needs to get Allison in on this. As the only other human in the pack and Scott's other handler, she needs the knowledge as much as he does. Plus two heads will definitely be better than one. Stiles calls her and outlines his mission, which she immediately grasps and sounds enthusiastic about. He offers to bring a flashdrive to school containing all the info he's compiled so far. Then once she's up to speed, they can brainstorm How To Stop The Pack Imploding And Derek Killing Everybody. Either one is currently a likely future scenario.

So a couple of days later, Allison fudges a believable excuse about studying to her folks and makes it over to Stiles' house without any family tailing her. She sadly tells Stiles that she's gotten really good at that lately. Stiles gives her a 'sorry your family sucks and wants to kill your boyfriend' cookie. He baked a batch that morning. Baking is his favorite instant mood enhancer, thanks to the times he spent in the kitchen with his Mom. She'd said it always made her feel good. The smell of baking keeps her with him.

Allison loves the cookie and produces a notebook full of neat little scribbles and it's possible that Stiles loves her forever. Thank God somebody else gets where he's coming from here. They compare notes and start trying to lay out a sort of handbook of How To Behave like A Socially Acceptable Werewolf And As Part Of A Pack. There's a lot about werewolf mates – how it's not a 'one and only' deal, how a were will be drawn to somebody and how much more intense it'll get if the person returns their interest, how they'll treat the mate compared to the rest of the pack. It explains so much about Scott's all-encompassing interest in Allison, especially once she'd reciprocated.

It also turns out that a lot of the weird possessive stuff that Derek is always barking about isn't actually just stubborn Alpha posturing. Werewolves are really big on marking members of their pack, human and wolf, and protecting them from outsiders. And resisting that, like by going all Romeo and Juliet with a member of another Pack for example, is so seriously badly received that wars have broken out because of it in the past. Wow, Derek really isn't being melodramatic when he says things like 'the pack is everything.'

He looks up and finds Allison's wide eyes staring at him. Like a reflex, he rubs a hand over his mouth to clear it of cookie crumbs and chocolate smears.

"What? Did I get it?"

Allison's eyes are shining in a very Disney Princess way. "No, it's….this explains so much, Stiles."

"I know, right? If the sourwolf had just told us any of this, because you know some other pack is gonna show up sooner or later and somebody'll say something and there'll be another fight to the death and…"

"No, I mean, Derek. This explains so much about Derek."

Stiles pauses and rechecks the notes they've made. Huh. It really does. Sure, he'd guessed that losing almost all your family in a fire that you blame yourself for would seriously put a dent in anyone's social skills, but Derek has always taken that to the next level. He's basically living in a mausoleum for Christ's sake. Growing up with these kinds of rules though - putting the pack first, rigid lines for behavior when interacting with outsiders – geez, it's no wonder that Derek's a little screwy. It's like something out of a different time. Derek would probably say it's the only kind of behavior that makes sense. Seeing it all laid out in black and white and you know, explained properly, is actually really helpful. Stiles can see where Derek's declarations come from now.

And this is the only sort of life that Derek's known. He's a man – wolf? – out of time. No wonder he gets so mad at them. From his perspective, it's everybody else who's acting crazy. In his world, Betas willingly and without question submit to their Alpha's will. Yeah, Scott, Jackson, and Lydia haven't totally grasped that yet. And it's not like Stiles is eager on that front either. If Derek was polite and explained it then maybe it'd be different – like 'hey if we encounter any other wolves, it's really important that you smell like me so that they don't try to eat you or claim you. It'll keep you safe.' Derek's way is tersely stating that Stiles has to do what he's told or, you know, slamming Stiles up against the nearest wall and growling at him to shut up and accept a scent-marking. Derek's parents weren't around long enough to help shape their son into the man that he's become. Maybe manners would have been included with their input.

"Yeah….." Stiles says at last. "We're all pretty freaky to him, huh?"

Allison smiles. "We're like an alien world. He's used to 'us and them', pack and non-pack. To have everybody jumbled up now and not wanting to be separated must be really weird for him."

Stiles grabs another cookie and starts scribbling down more notes. Because looking at it the way that Allison's suggested, it's clear that it's not just Derek that needs a reality check. The pack does too. It's gotta be give and take, right? So if the pack can start behaving a little more conventionally pack-like – Allison will totally be able to convey everything to Scott which is a great start because anything Scott does, Jackson wants to be better at - maybe Derek can start easing off on the hardass persona. And Stiles is totally gonna have to be the one to tell him, isn't he? Great. That'll end well. Maybe things'll go really super and Derek will find out why Stiles' heart-rate rockets in his presence. That'd be a perfect evening, and it's likely in Stiles' future.

Then Allison makes him choke on his cookie by saying "And this totally explains the thing between you guys."

Stiles coughs and it takes an embarrassingly long time for him to clear his throat of cookie and mortification. "Thing? What thing? There's a thing now? Really?"

Allison looks surprised. "We thought you knew? He keeps staring at you and visiting your house. And the scent-marking."

"That's because I'm pack! Rival packs, remember? The whole staying safe thing."

Stiles is flailing now and books are starting to tumble. He busies himself with putting everything back to rights and taking a few deep breaths. There's a thing now, between him and Derek? The only thing he's sure of is Derek's obvious and overwhelming frustration with him, mixed in with a decent helping of dislike. Which is exactly what he tells Allison, who terrifyingly shakes her head.

"He's never scent-marked me, Stiles. I only smell of Scott."

"Yeah, but that's because you're Scott's…"

Stiles trails off and gapes. Holy shit. Allison bites her lip and all Stiles can think is she's Scott's mate and I'm... It's like being in the middle of a really fucked-up fairytale and God, he doesn't know if he wants to jump out of the book or fast-forward to the happy ending. How did he miss this? He settles for spluttering out indignant words.

"How….why…..?"

Allison clears her throat. "His wolf, the way it responds to you. Reading this now, everything makes sense."

Derek's wolf is an uncontrollable beast who spends a lot of moon time snarling and dealing with Scott and Jackson. He tends to butt his head against Stiles' thigh and glare at him a lot. By his standards, that's practically gentle. Derek's wolf is gentle with him. He's been herding Stiles, keeping him in sight at all times. A ton of puzzle pieces are clicking together for Stiles now and every interaction he's had with Derek is flipping over in his mind, showing him something different.

It's like something really important suddenly making clear sharp sense, a feeling of Oooh, so that's what it is. A warm knowing feeling that fills Stiles' every pore like honey. A feeling that he definitely wants a lot more of.

The wolf is a part of Derek much more strongly than the wolves are part of Scott or Jackson. Derek has always known his wolf. It's just another piece of him, another side to his personality. Some people play lacrosse, others grow fur and fangs and howl at the moon. Derek's wolf likes Stiles.

Stiles starts reading with a lot of renewed vigor.

Derek's an idiot. Surprisingly, Stiles manages to keep that opinion to himself. Here's the thing, Derek blames himself for what happened to his family. Stiles understands guilt. He and his Dad used to blame themselves for his Mom's death until they agreed mutually that cancer sucked and was definitely all to blame. Of course there are still pangs of self-blame – why didn't I notice something was wrong sooner? - But it isn't the suffocating black cloud that it once was. Derek is still experiencing stormy weather.

Derek very clearly needs a mate.

He's still living in a ramshackle half- house and refuses most company, only accepting the pack's regular presence. He probably hasn't been eating right either. Stiles bakes a casserole, grabs his notes, and texts Allison to let her know exactly where he's going. A buddy system is golden when living in werewolf country and Allison is the least likely to laugh at him.

Go get him is her awesome reply.

Scott is so lucky to have her.

Stiles shoves open the Hale's door when he finds it unlocked. So Derek hasn't gone for a run in the woods, on four legs or two. He's very strict about keeping his family's house safe. Stiles sticks the casserole in the fridge and starts sorting through his notes. There's only a couple more books he needs to read in the Hale's makeshift library. One's got a weirdly shimmery spine. When he opens it, a photograph slips out.

Laura in the sun and shadows, smiling. She looks about the age she was when she died.

She was really pretty. There's something of Derek in her eyes. Stiles can totally imagine her glaring, just like her brother. Maybe even snarling like him too. Her hair's long, and she looks...normal. Happy. Did Derek ever look that happy? Maybe when he was with his family...

Stiles looks at Laura one last time, memorizes her expression, and then carefully tucks the photo back into the book.

He doesn't see Derek the whole time that he's at the house.

He continues to regularly bring food to the Hale house and he makes sure that Scott and Jackson don't eat it all. Distracting them with pizza is foolproof. Lydia smirks and calls him Mrs. Hale. Stiles tells her that he won't be making those brownies again that she ate five of last time.

In a quiet moment, Scott tells him that he can smell Stiles everywhere in the house now. And that he can smell Derek's interest. It's an awkward conversation, but Stiles is grateful that Scott gets what he's doing – thank God for Allison – and that he wants to help. Even if he's kinda weirded out by the idea of Stiles and Derek, he's still got Stiles' back.

Stiles doesn't stop arguing with Derek. Because being the Alpha's mate means standing up to the Alpha and pointing out any flaws in the Alpha's decisions. Stiles is all over that. Besides, Derek doesn't seem like the kind of man, or wolf, who'd want somebody he can walk all over. Derek needs submission from his Betas, and from his mate, but there needs to be more than that. Stiles understands that. He's willing too. God, is he willing.

He wonders how Derek's parents were together, what their relationship was like. He thinks about Laura's smile and decides that she would have made a great Alpha if she was anything like Derek. The more he learns, the more he hates that they'll always just be names, vague memories, and pictures to him.

One night, he's taking a lasagna over to Derek's – he usually just leaves any meals he makes in the fridge and then gets stuck into studying – when Derek opens the front door before Stiles reaches it. That's new. Stiles swallows, painfully aware that Derek can hear how fast his heart is beating and that he can smell Stiles' arousal too. Well…good. Okay, good. Stiles has been putting out heavy-duty smoke signals and maybe Derek's finally taking them seriously. That's not nerve-wracking at all.

Derek is watching him intently. Stiles' insides do a sort of swoop and his heart-rate definitely increases again. He quickly holds out the lasagna dish.

"I guess it's not a surprise anymore. Enjoy."

Derek looks from the dish to Stiles' face. "Lasagna is a surprise in your world?"

"It is if you aren't expecting Italian food." Stiles makes a move towards the doorway. "Is the Hale library open for business? Because I have work to do."

Surprisingly, Derek lets him in without comment. Stiles makes for where he left the books on the couch last time and yep, there they are. It looks like Derek left them there for him. Stiles smile a little to himself, because from Derek, that gesture's almost sweet. He's always telling the pack to pick up after themselves.

Another first – once Derek's put the lasagna away, he stays in the room with Stiles. Stiles drags the books open and tries not to look too often in Derek's direction. Really, it's Derek's turn to make a move. Stiles has been doing all the moving here. A lot of moving. He's all out of moves right now.

Derek is suddenly a lot closer than before. He's sitting on the couch and his gaze is still pinned on Stiles like he's trying to work something out. Stiles rolls his eyes. Like there's anything difficult to work out here. He's been more than obvious. Oh God, if this turns out to be some kind of 'you're not ready, you're too young' talk, Stiles is going to throw something at Derek. Possibly a shoe. Only Derek would probably keep it like a freakish bad-smelling trophy.

Stiles slides a look towards Derek, heart stuttering at the intense look on the werewolf's face, before deliberately lowering his gaze. If that isn't a giant anvil of a clue, then Stiles doesn't know what is.

Derek growls. Stiles' breathing gets a little heavier in response. He dares to bare his neck.

Then suddenly he's being grabbed and laid out on the couch and Derek is above him, every inch of his cut body touching Stiles. It's kind of like all his birthdays happening at once – overwhelming but awesome. He probably smells a little of fear – because there's a freakin' Alpha lying on top of him and looking at him like he's seeing dinner – but that's gotta be drowned out by how much Stiles wants Derek, how much he wants to do this, not just the sex – though please, yes please, a thousand times over.

He remembers his Mom talking about meeting his Dad for the first time and how they'd talked and gone on some dates afterward.

"We were having dinner out one night and I looked at him as he was laughing and it was like…something clicking into place. Something really important that I hadn't even realized was missing until that moment."

Stiles wishes he could tell her that he gets that now, because he's found somebody who causes the exact same feeling in him.

Derek noses his neck almost carefully. Stiles keeps it bared. Then Derek mouths at his tendons and scrapes his teeth against the skin. Stiles lets out a broken moan – because he's human and Derek is Mr. Perfect Abs and wow, this is really finally happening. Stiles digs his fingers into Derek's back, getting an answering growl in reply. Awesome.

Derek pulls back and eyes him. "How long have you….?"

"Known that you wanted me for werewolf marriage and weren't going to do anything about it?" Stiles grins at the rumble in Derek's chest. "A while. I might have gotten some help."

"You're not freaked out about this."

"Oh, there was a lot of reading and the help and thinking and weighing up of my options." Stiles' breath hitches as Derek shifts his weight and hello, there's something very interesting happening against his thigh. Derek really is into this, into him. "And I figured I'm the best you're gonna get so out of the goodness of my heart….."

Derek bites his shoulder through his shirt, hard enough for it to be a warning. Stiles dares to comb his fingers through Derek's hair. Clearly it's a good idea because that rumble in Derek's chest is back and the Alpha is leaning into his touch. The Alpha's mate really is powerful. Stiles hitches his leg up to Derek's waist, wanting to be so much closer.

Derek's eyes flicker red as he runs a hand up Stiles' leg and across the inseam of his jeans. Oh God, that feels good. Stiles gasps. Derek chuckles, it's almost a warm sound, before encouraging Stiles to hitch his other leg up and now there's some very gratifying contact occurring. Stiles lets out a cracked whine and ruts shamelessly upward. It's making his head spin and making Derek growl and Stiles can't even speak he's so breathless. That's got to be a record.

"Do you even know what you're offering?"

Derek's voice is like gravel and there's so much hunger and heat in there that Stiles gasps and tugs Derek's hair. And is Derek actually serious? Oh God, he is.

"Seriously? You can smell what I had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You can smell the hormones. Very important hormones. Hormones that say 'I'm ready, willing, and available exclusively to you.'" Stiles squeezes with his thighs for emphasis and hello, Derek's firm and muscular body. Stiles is looking forward to getting know that a lot more thoroughly. "This is not a split-second decision. And I'd really appreciate it if you'd get to the part where you tear my clothes off and…"

There's a ripping noise and huh, Stiles' shirt is now on the floor, in pieces. And Derek's very warm hands are all over Stiles' chest, swiftly followed by his questing tongue. That's more like it. Stiles rakes his fingernails over Derek's back and then succeeds in getting the werewolf's shirt off. Derek is nudging at his neck again; of course he's going to want to mark there. Wolves and necks. It's a thing. Stiles has looked into this extensively. Anyway, he lets Derek suck and bite a mark. The pleasure-pain is amazing and if Derek doesn't get them both pantless very soon, then Stiles is going to completely embarrass himself.

Derek unzips Stiles' jeans, slips a hand past his boxers, and oh God, Stiles arches up.

Thank God his Dad is away at a conference. Thank God nobody else is around. Stiles tugs firmly on Derek's hair, shivering at the noise he gets in return, and reaches down to get Derek out of his pants.

At some point during the night he might mutter 'I do.'

-the end