AN: Okay, anyone who may end up reading this, I'm super nervous about posting this as it is my first and it makes me feel vulnerable to share with people but i'm doing it anyways! I am looking for a beta so if you're interested then please tell me! Reviews would be appreciated, as i need to know if i should go on. Enjoy!:D

Irrationality and Useless Infatuations

Stiles hoped never see the werewolves that, a hundred years ago, supposedly plagued the countryside just north of his village. Since he was a boy he'd heard the stories about their ferocity, and the devastation that wracked the surrounding settlements when they had ruled Beacon forest. His fears were irrational he knew for no one had seen a werewolf in damn near a century, let alone been attacked!

So why then was he unable to sleep since the conversation with his father this afternoon? Stiles had made the trip to his grandmother's home, high up on Beacon Hill many times, albeit every time he'd had Scott tagging along. But this time it would be different; He was going alone..

Scott's mother and father had revealed to him a few days prior to Stiles' debacle that he was betrothed to an out of towner, one Allison Argent. After seeing her portrait Scott had become sickeningly smitten with the dark-haired beauty, and requested to set up a meeting with her as soon as possible to gauge her feelings on the marriage. Scott McCall was nothing if not honorable and kind-hearted; he would never force the poor girl into anything she didn't fully consent to.

Stiles didn't particularly understand. Yes, there was no denying the girl was a looker but to marry someone you barely know, if at all, it seemed strange. Perhaps that was because his infatuation had been held by certain strawberry blonde goddess since he was a very young boy. He knew any hope in that relationship beyond their tenuous friendship was foolish; she was practically as betrothed as Scott. Her and Jackson Whittemore were a couple to be fawned over; the women in town had a field day with the first glittering rumors of a wedding. In any case it was obvious his father hoped he would marry his neighbor Erica Reyes. The girl was all blonde hair, legs and sass to match Stiles' own. He didn't pretend to be uninterested and he knew she liked him, but he couldn't help but feel that it would be unfair to her; he feared that his heart would always belong to Lydia, and Erica deserved better than that.

It didn't matter how hard he tried to quell the feelings he had for the girl, his body just wouldn't listen it was impossible to stop Stiles' mind from wandering to Lydia's full pouty lips and generous curves. He let his hands wander as well as his thoughts; imagining that it was her delicately manicured fingers undoing his sleeping pants. his hands were almost wrapped around himself when he remembered he had to get up early tomorrow. Reluctantly he removed his trembling hand from his trousers and rolled onto his side, trying desperately not to be afraid of what might await him in the forest.

"Man" Seeking Company

"Stiles, wake up son." The sheriff gently shook his son awake. The sleeping boy blinked slowly.

"No… Its too early.." Stiles groaned and tried to cover himself with his bed sheets.

"Early? It's almost sun up." his father replied seriously. Stiles sat up, knowing he wouldn't win this, he knew he had to get up and ready for his trip.

"Oh? Almost sunrise you say?" He mock glared at his father. "You know, you probably should have woken me up before I even went to sleep; then I certainly wouldn't have overslept!" he threw his hands up in exasperation.

The sheriff chuckled at his sons theatrics. their relationship had slowly been on the mend since his wife's death; an illness had swept through their village claiming several lives, including Stiles' mother. His son had been young and very confused at the time; death is often a hard concept for children to grasp. Regrettably it became hard for Sheriff Stilinski to look at his son who reminded him so much of his beautiful wife. They shared the same honey colored eyes,ghostly pale skin and bountiful freckles. It was like looking at a ghost. His avoidance only lasted a short time though; he had begun to realize how much his son truly needed a father now that he had no mother. "I made breakfast for you and put the supplies for your grandmother into the picnic basket by the door." He smiled and left to get ready for work as his son dramatically rolled off his bed.

Now that stiles was alone he was free to mope and dress in peace. "Sure, I'll go into the creepy, possibly werewolf infested, forest all by my self! Why, you ask? 'Cause I'm stiles and I can't defend myself against a chipmunk let alone a man-eating wolf beast!" he aggressively pulled on his form-fitting light brown leather travel pants, tying them securely against his narrow, though he would never admit it, slightly girlish hips. "And hey, this weekend seems as good as any to get mauled to death!" After slipping into a loose-fitting tunic he went to get the breakfast he'd been promised.

His father had left a note that there was a disturbance at the Lahey farm and he was sorry he couldn't see him off. Stiles was never mad when his dad had to leave abruptly, he got it, his dad was an important person and he had people to look after not only him but the whole town.

Breakfast finished he made his way to the front door and stepping out into the cool spring air. He'd made it halfway to the forests edge before he realized he had forgotten his basket. "Damn!" he exclaimed jogging back to his small cottage. The basket sat by the door with another note atop it. It read 'Stiles, I know that you might not be able to handle this trip by yourself. So if you want me to come with you we can go tomorrow.. Also if you go today bring your cloak it can get cold in the woods.'

Stiles was a little furious. It was one thing for him to think he couldn't do it, but his father? He was supposed to believe in him; he knew his father only meant well but it still hurt. There was no way he would back down now. He debated rebelliously leaving his cloak, but thought better of it. It wouldn't do to have him freezing and having to turn back would it?

"Falalalala lalalala." Stiles finished the last verse of Deck the Halls and swung the basket around in his hand. He'd been walking along the unused path for a good half hour and had quickly become bored, unaccustomed to the silence of the woods without Scott's chatter to comfort him. "This is what I've been reduced to.. It's not even close to christmas!" he threw his arms up in exasperation almost dropping the basket.

He really only sang to soothe the growing fear of the dark path ahead of him. His voice wasn't bad but it wasn't as good as Scott's he usually just drummed along. the sun had barely just begun to peak over the horizon and Stiles glared at its readjusted himself and pulled his blood-red cloak around his shoulders, his father had been right the cold was much more prevalent here than in the sunny town.

"Why!?" he cried out to no one. "This is not a time for humans to be awake!" he kicked at a pine cone, but missed and fell on his backside sending his basket rolling into the trees, he could only hope it hadn't opened and spilled its contents. Before he could get up he felt a pair of eyes on him.

"I thoroughly agree." A rich dark sarcastic voice answered his previous exclamation. Stiles bolted up only to crash straight into the man. To Stiles' surprise they didn't topple over which is what would have happened had he been any other man.

"Ahhh Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Stiles apologized feverishly and tried to pull away, but the man had a vise like grip on his biceps. For the first time Stiles looked up at the guy holding him flush against his body. Pale skin covered a chiseled jaw line and nose that were every sculptures wet dream. Dark brooding eyebrows set above - stiles tensed in fear - the mans eyes were a glowing ruby color. If his research had been correct that was the mark of an alpha werewolf! But when he looked again they were a steely blue grey color. It had to have been his imagination. "There are no werewolves." He accidentally whispered out loud.

A foreboding chuckle escaped the possible werewolf still holding him. he leaned in close to stiles' ear and whispered back "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you." he let his bottom lip trail along the shell of the young boys ear, causing him to shiver against him.

"Wha- what are you doing?!" The kid squeaked and began to struggle. Derek had followed him since he'd wandered into his territory, at first it was to assess his threat level.. but then he began to enjoy the young mans sweet singing voice even if his song choice was a bit out of season. And more than that it had been a long time since he'd had any company.. And even longer since he'd had someone under him.