Note: This one-shot story started on my writing partner’s roleplay account as a prompt or rather question about Derek’s character with the “What is he like at social events?” and grew into this story. It is kind of an AU story in our “Home Is Where the Spark Is” universe. We hope you’ll enjoy it!

Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Sterek

Characters/relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale

Rating/category: R (explicit), supernatural, post-Teen Wolf, canon and non-canon elements, Alternate Universe, slash, M/M, Sterek, aged up characters, detective Stiles, matured Stiles, switch Stiles, Omega Derek, switch Derek, romance, pining, secretly in love, werewolves, clubbing, gay club, smut, rough sex, oral sex, anal sex, hand job, knotting, breeding, rimming, aftercare, angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Derek Hale’s relationship with Stiles Stilinski has always followed a certain pattern. He shows up in the other’s life then soon leaves Stiles behind. But this time, after bumping into Stiles in a gay club in San Francisco and a one-night-stand happens, that pattern finally breaks.

Disclaimer: This is a product of our imagination and was written only for entertainment and fun. We don’t profit from this fanfiction and we mean no harm or disrespect against any real person, culture or custom that might appear in the story. All original pictures and fictional characters used in the story belong to their respective owners and credit goes to them.

Full-sized pic

No Regrets
by Just Jim & Useless-girl

Part 1

The music was loud, so loud that it vibrated through his chest in these stabbing thumps of vibration. It made Derek grit his teeth tightly together as his brows furrowed to a frown. There was a sweet warm scent of alcohol in the air, the stench of sweat, perfume and make up. It was raining outside because some of the clothing in here had that sour molted scent to if after getting wet.

There were many voices shouting at one another to make themselves heard above the music, animated talks of heartaches, of the promise of sex, the drunken mumbles and bold aspirations. The heartbeats all around him were alleviated in their frantic dancing and grinding and sometimes he'd get a whiff of arousal if he stood too close to catch it.

The drink in his hand was untouched. If he'd open his mouth to taste it then the chemo signals were going to be overwhelming. And it wasn't as if he could get drunk anyways. So he stood in the corner, trying to decide whether he should try to talk to somebody or simply vanish.

"You look like you're plotting murder. You’re scaring people away," his companion laughed even though Derek thought plotting murder wasn't that far off the mark. "No seriously, you're creeping people out. You’re not going to pick up anybody like that," his 'friend' continued.

"Good!" Derek said as he thought about his book on the couch waiting for him, wondering if it would be rude to ditch the party early after he got here half an hour ago. He sighed and pressed into the corner a little more, plotting murder for sure now.

It was going to be his day off tomorrow, so Stiles was like 'to hell with it' and decided to break his usual pattern of work-eat-sleep-work. The sleep was little anyways with a restless mind like his. That's how he had ended up in that gay club, wanting to just have a few drinks and dance a bit. He didn't need anyone to accompany him. The rare occasions he visited such clubs was on his own anyway since he didn't flaunt his bisexuality at the force. Being a detective in a big city like Frisco was a demanding thing and sometimes it was good to let out some steam.

So after drinking a couple of beers and some way too sweet cocktails, Stiles was relaxed and tipsy enough to find himself on the dance floor amidst the warm wriggling bodies. His movements were a bit awkward at first, but once he found the rhythm, they became more coordinated. He didn't care about anyone around him, the strange or appreciative looks he got, he just closed his eyes to enjoy the rhythm and the nice buzzing in his head. To forget about his cases, about his hometown and the people whom he was missing more often than not nowadays.

The positive side of all his lurking meant Derek could watch others unashamed as he hid near the walls to keep attention away from him. There was a sweep across the dance floor where his friend was trying to lure him to with some hand movements which he ignored completely. Derek didn't dance like that, with a sea of strangers around him, bumping and grinding in a mass of bodies. Instead he sipped his drink and let his eyes roam.

There was something familiar about spastic movements he caught on the dance floor, a flash of pale flesh and moles. Dark hair, the familiar eyes closed while the lanky body swayed with the music, grinding itself against whoever was around him and interested. Stiles, all grown up – all grown up and clearly drunk. Of all the places Derek went to, he had to find the human here. Plastered against others.

He should leave; he should go and leave Stiles to it. So he pushed off the wall to do exactly that. Only his feet found themselves going the wrong way, pushing through the bodies to push the male away who had gotten a little too hands on, glaring at the man to make him go. That was about all the plan he had because now... he was on the dance floor. With Stiles.

Stiles was being carried by the music, the bodies and hands against him actually a nice thing. Human touch. A luxury nowadays which he rarely allowed himself to indulge in. Maybe that was part of why he was feeling so down and lonely lately. Maybe he should just have a few more drinks and pick a guy he remotely liked to fuck his brains out along with the tension. Maybe he was just craving touches, which suddenly stopped on his body, so with still closed eyes, he reached out to catch the hands – male hands, good! – to lead them back around his swaying and rolling body in a sensual dance, rubbing and grinding just at the right places.

Yes, this was nice. Whoever the guy was, he was one firm and warm one, but he didn't want to ruin this nice feeling with taking a peek. This was good, this was enough – for now. So he kept grinding against the stranger shamelessly, a happy smile on his face as he threw his head back on a soft moan which was entirely swallowed by the thumping music.

What was happening here?! Derek completely froze for a second when warm clammy hands found his to guide his hands to place them on the swaying hips, feeling the bones shift beneath his sensitive fingers. And oh my god, was that Stiles' ass grinding against his crotch?

Yes. Yes it was. His body had a clear interest in what was happening, much to his dismay because he felt betrayed by the way his pants were tightening even more than they already were. His face was a mask of horror and surprise, probably because his friend further away was frantically holding his thumbs up and signaled for Derek to move.

What?

Oh right, he was on the dance floor, standing still like this was probably really weird with the way Stiles was still coaching him to move. Or he was fine with using Derek like a pole to rub against. He didn't even know it was Derek and that made him frown. Unsure, he glanced at where his hands were, until Stiles had to moan. It took Derek's breath away. Oh god, he shouldn't be liking this. He shouldn't be encouraging this.

His hips moved, grinding along with the sensual gyrations the human made.

"That's more like it..." Stiles giggled more to himself but it quickly turned into another moan once the nice bulge rubbing back against his ass registered in his mind. Oh boy, it was quite a bulge too and Stiles found himself biting down on his lip as he pressed his back against the gloriously firm chest, one of his hands reaching back to hold onto the guy's thigh to steady himself, the other grabbing the yet still hand and lead it under his slightly bunched up shirt at the front, touching his warm and bare skin under the fabric. God yes!

This was not happening! Derek was touching his friend in a very inappropriate manner, even though Stiles was the one leading the touches and movements. But the human didn't know who he was so he was the innocent in this, a very drunk innocent. Who was moaning like he wanted to be taken right here and it did things to Derek’s pants, sinfully bad things.

Stiles reeked of arousal, so thickly that it made it hard for Derek to think, pun intended. There was warm skin under the palm of his hand, muscles rippling, sweat slicked, a trail of hair trickling at his fingers. He inhaled sharply, taken over by how much he didn't want to be nice, didn't want to be the good guy.

He wanted to taste.

Stiles chose that exact moment to turn around in the guy's arms and put his arms around his neck. He was slightly taller and definitely broader than him. A perfect fit. And now his buzzing mind was curious about his dancing partner. He also smelled somehow familiar, but he couldn't put a finger on it. So as he moaned from their jeans-clad erections finally rubbing together and giving them both some much needed friction, the flushed and slightly sweaty man finally opened his eyes.

Instead of shock, a chuckle left him. "Oh dude, I think they had slipped something in my drink, because I'm seeing someone who definitely wouldn't be here! Not complaining, though. I always liked him more than a friend..." he added with another giggle.

Not the words Derek was expecting when Stiles turned around and realized who he has been grinding against. As if he was a drugged up hallucination. Wait... ‘I always liked him more than a friend’. Those were Stiles’ words. He had liked Derek? Another strangled noise escaped him in the back of his throat. He had never been good with words but right now... what were words again?

"Stiles," Derek breathed, eyes focused on that tempting mouth for a moment before his intense green eyes traced the rest of the face. It had gotten less angular, some of the youth aged off by the years but Stiles still looked young. At least not thirteen any more and more importantly, no longer under aged. "There was nothing in your drink besides alcohol."

Derek hadn't changed one bit, still the same kind of jeans, still the simple shirts paired with a leather jacket. Still the sturdy boots. The same kind of hair gelled back as usual, the perfectly groomed stubble.

Stiles… Wait... how did this guy know his name when he never introduced himself? That he remembered... And why did he sound SO much like Derek? Was he...

"Derek?!" he suddenly froze against the other man, their bulges still pressed together, an awkward reminder that this was real... Oh god... Stiles blinked a few times, trying to focus more. The shock was starting to settle in as well as the deepening of the awkwardness. He's been flushed before from the booze and the arousal, but now his whole face, ears and neck turned a deep red under the colorful lights and his skin heated up in record time.

"Oh... Err... Awkward!" he chuckled embarrassed and reminded himself to pry his hands off his friend's shoulders and to reluctantly put some distance between their bodies. "Sorry, I... What are you doing here?" he averted his gaze in his embarrassment. It was just his luck. He's been grinding against his biggest crush like a bitch in heat and worse of it all... oh god... he had to say THAT to him too... Stiles suddenly felt much more sober and devastated and wanted the floor to open up and swallow him right then and there. He... just royally fucked up so, so bad!

It hurt the way Stiles completely froze up when he realized it wasn't some random stranger he had been rubbing himself against but Derek. It made the claim about liking him odd because why would he dislike it when finding out Derek was real and right there? The Hale covered it up by taking a step back, his erection gone by then because of the reaction, which had been more effective than a cold shower. Stiles exuded awkwardness around him now, so stifling that he took a few steps away from him, seemingly to get away from the dance floor.

But it was more to keep his bodily reactions as impassive as his face was. Stiles was drunk, he didn't know what he was doing, so this wasn't directed towards Derek, probably. What was he doing here? At this moment in time, he had no idea. But then he realized Stiles was asking about him being in San Francisco, because this wasn't the Jungle at Beacon Hills. For a moment, Derek had completely forgotten how this was all a game of chance and for a moment he had felt like he had been winning.

Only for a moment.

"I'm visiting some acquaintances." As vague as usual, especially since said friend had ditched because he was nowhere to be seen, no doubt assuming Derek had found his own ride out of here. "You're looking good."

Derek's hasty retreat was something that made Stiles' heart sink with a surprisingly painful skip. Every cell in his body screamed 'NO,' but who was he kidding? Derek Hale has always been out of his league and sure, he clearly remembered one glorious bulge rubbing against him, but that might have been just a bodily reaction to all the friction his little needy bitch of a body caused. The disappointment because of that and Derek's visual retreat and closed up expression was high in the detective. So much for having a good night out. Yeah, right, as if that was even possible for someone like Stiles...

"I see..." Stiles said quietly on a small, unsure voice and blushed again from the compliment, daring to finally meet Derek's eyes which were resting on him despite the fiasco. "Thanks... you look good too." Which was no lie. Derek Hale basically looked the same like in his wettest dreams. Outside he didn't change at all from his handsome hot self, but there was an air of being more... mature around him. And it brought back the usual irregular heartbeat Stiles always had around him. It seemed some things never change.

It's been years since the last time he had seen Derek, but his feelings for this gorgeous and mysterious werewolf never changed and now slammed into Stiles like a train wreck. Too bad nothing ever was going to come out of it. He was good at pining after people who will never want him back. Stiles Stilinski, the king of pining and low self-esteem!

"Want to catch up?" he suddenly heard himself asking, because a part of him didn't want Derek to go just now, even if parting ways right about now was the wiser choice before he'd embarrass himself even more. He felt like that awkward, annoying teenager from years back again. The confident and crafty detective his colleagues knew him as was nowhere to be found. They'd laugh at him if they could see him right now and no doubt would be teasing him for months with it.

Why there was so much disappointment oozing from Stiles was beyond him because Derek wasn't the one who had pulled away as if burned when he discovered who he had been rubbing against. Which, by the way, should have told Stiles that Derek had let him do that, had even been aroused by it. But that little bit of information didn't seem to register with the intoxicated human.

"No, I walked up to you to dance with you so I could leave you with an awkward boner and then bail on you." The Hale snark was in full force, because frankly he was a little annoyed Stiles would think he hadn't changed, that he was still the idiot he used to be back when he had been a young alpha. "Come on, I'll buy you a burger."

Get something greasy in the drunk body to counteract all the alcohol. And to get away from this place because his ass was groped a little too often. Like honey to horny bees. Reaching out, he took Stiles by the wrist to drag him away, not trusting the human not to bump into people and end up sprawled out on the very sticky floor.

Stiles was slightly shocked from the blunt snarky comment and it nearly managed to pull him out of his self-flagging mood. Boy, the highs and lows of being drunk were still strong for him. It could change in a neck-breaking speed, leaving his head buzzing with confusion. Nonetheless, he had a small smile on his face as he let Derek pull him along by his wrist. Those fingers around it feeling like burning into his skin.

Next part

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