The timeline is a little off. Canon divergence. I'm picking and choosing with the canon. Just dumb and fluffy.

Derek is 28 and Stiles is 22, just so you get the idea. I know Stiles is only 18 or 19 when he's doing the internship but I don't care.

They become more and more out of character as I write.

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It's not running away if you intend to go back eventually. I had already run away from Beacon Hills once, and I'm not doing it again.

I have things to keep me there this time, I have pack. Sure, most of them are off finding themselves, as all good twenty-something-year-olds should; I was fine staying with those who stayed/those who were still studying. But it didn't feel right with St- most of them gone, for one reason or another.

It had been quiet, and honestly, with the pack being small because of said finding themselves, Scott suggested I try to do the same. I was grieving the last time I tried and was still a teen, aimlessly wandering around. I had no one and nothing to ground me.

Now I have everything. Well almost. I have a big mismatched pack, one that I'm not expected to lead, merely help out with. I have family in the said pack and actual blood.

But one thing was missing, or more so had left. And while I wasn't trying to find it, somehow I accidentally did.

The smell hit me as soon as I walked through the door. It overpowered the musty smell of books and the soft floral scent of the candle burning on the counter. It sent a shiver down my spine and a gentle smirk to my lips.

I slowly walk down the furthest aisle, following my nose to the source of the smell, a hunched-over man kneeling on the floor stocking books. His brown mop of hair was curler and messier than the last time I had seen it.

I reach my hand out and mess it up even more as I walk past to the back of the room.

"Hey!" I hear called behind me, I guess he looks up because his breath hitches for a moment before I hear him stand up. "What do you think you are doing? You can't just touch people, weirdo!" He says following.

I look down, shaking my head and crossing my arms. I make my face blank before turning around. "Why not?"

He takes a step back before literally jumping onto me. "Derek!"

I quickly move my arms to catch him and his own wrap around my neck, squeezing tightly as he nuzzles his nose into my neck.

"Uh, good to see you too Stiles?" I chuckle as I'm holding this full-grown man off the floor.

He pushes back, blushing, and I let him go. "Right, sorry." He chuckles awkwardly stepping backwards. "I don't normally see people I know here." He tries to explain away.

I look at him in thought. "And by here you mean this town?"

He nods and turns around walking back to his box of books. "Yeah, but that's probably because I didn't tell anyone where I was." He says over his shoulder.

"I thought you were in Quantico, with the FBI." I ask confused.

He chuckles sadly. "If anyone asks, I still am."

I sigh crossing my arms again. "What did you do?"

"What? Nothing." He protests. I frown at him, not that he's looking at me, but he submits. "Apparently, I'm "smart but too much of a loose canon to work for the FBI." Which is bullshit... And ablest. But after the whole "you" thing, I get it." He sighs.

"You got kicked out because of me?"

He looks back at me. "No." He shakes his head. "But I guess they don't like having interns force their way into dangerous cases. I was way out of line, and I was trying a new dose of Adderall, so I was probably super annoying." He sighs.

"Was?" I joke.

He fakes laughs. "More than usual. Anyway point is, I don't want people to know I flunked out of the FBI. In a year I'm allowed to reapply. I'm just filling time until then. So don't tell anyone, especially my dad and Scott... Or Melissa."

I laugh. "You're hiding from your family? You do know they'll welcome you back with open arms and be there to support you when you do reapply?"

He steps closer. "You can't tell them. Please, Derek? Promise me." He pleads.

I look down slightly into his eyes. He almost looks like a puppy, which you'd think I'd be used to growing up around werewolves but this is different. This isn't his instincts making him act wolfish, he's just naturally like an excitable pet dog. Maybe that's why he fits into the pack so well.

I sigh rolling my eyes. "Fine."

"Thanks." He smiles genuinely before turning back around to stock the shelves.

I look him up and down. He looks different; yeah, his hair is more natural, but even the way he stands is different. He looks relaxed, not in his goofy frumpy teen boy kind of way he had back home, but more... himself. Yet, he seems sad, his usual smile dimmed.

And he's dressed more professionally, like when he was in the FBI, in a white button-up, black slacks and a brown apron. Never understood bookkeepers wearing aprons. 'Must be the uniform.'

"So, why are you in town?" He asks breaking me out of my thoughts.

I till my head in thought which causes him to turn and look at me smiling. "Scott sent me to "find myself". I think he just wanted to not have to be alpha for a while since he sent the others to do the same." I half heartedly joke.

"Well, there's not much to find, both in this town and in you." He jokes back.

I chuckle. "I don't know. I found you."

He snorts at how cheesy that was. "So you failed in finding yourself." He fake gasps. "Unless the universe wants me to help you with that." He fake gags. "No thanks."

"I don't think you get to disobey the universe." I smile picking up a book out of the box and reading the blurb.

"Why not?" He jokingly whines. "The universe has already put me through so much shit."

"It can't be that bad. It brought me to you." I say softly, receiving an aroma of attraction from the shorter man causing me to smirk.

He clears his throat. "Yeah, and you cost me my job. Why must I be punished like this?" He asks. I can see him from the corner of my eye looking up to the sky.

I shake my head. "How would you like to be punished then?" I ask keeping my voice as flat as I can but struggling to keep a smirk off my face.

He looks over at me his face blushed. "You do know how that sounds when you say shit like that?"

"Like what?" I ask in false confusion turning to him and putting the book on the shelf.

He sighs. "You say stuff that could be misconstrued, stuff with double meanings or could be taken as an innuendo. Why the fuck would you ask how I'd want to be punished?" He groans.

I raise an eyebrow. "Because you do stuff that piss people off. If you don't want the universe to punish you, then someone has to."

He drags his hand down his face as another wave of attraction radiates off of him. "See like that! That was so sexually charged. God, I'm so lucky it's a slow day, I don't want to have to explain this to my customers."

I chuckle. "I don't understand. You don't want me to punish you?" I ask acting dumb.

He blushes deeply. "Dude! Stop saying the word punish." He groans covering his face in embarrassment. "It sounds so sexual. You can't just say shit that can come across like that." He mumbles behind his hands.

I look down the aisle and out the big window at the front to check for customers before grabbing his wrist and pushing him gently against the bookcase with his hands above his head. He looks up at me in surprise but doesn't try to move.

"I'm not an idiot Stiles." I say looking down at him. "I know what my words do for you." I chuckle, leaning down to his ear, and whisper. "I am a werewolf, I can smell you and your strong emotions."

He gulps nervously not saying anything. I move his wrists into one hand, moving my now free hand to his neck as I softly run my lips on his other side. He shivers slightly doing nothing more than exposing his neck for me to kiss.

I nip at the skin on his pulse point, pulling the skin between my teeth lightly, his skin, tasting like a sweet dark chocolate. He gasps softly, leaning further into the bookcase. My fingers mindlessly run through the hairs at his nape.

I pull back and smirk down at him, his confused, glazed expression giving me a sense of accomplishment. Letting go of his wrists, I grab a hold of his hip, pulling him closer. His hands softly fall to my chest.

His head still tilted, leaning into my hand on his neck. He blinks a few times before letting out a soft slurred "What...?"

I go to speak, but the bell of the door rings, pulling him out of his trace. He shakes his head blushing deeply as he pushes me away. "I have to..." He trails off walking up to the front. I see him stand up straight before leaving the aisle.

"How can I help you today?" I hear him ask.

I carefully and slowly walk around the back of the store, lazily scanning books with my fingertips as he helps the customer. It takes less than five minutes before the purchase is made and the customer leaves.

With a click and a flip, the lights go out, and Stiles is stomping back towards me. "What was that?" He asks crossing his arms.

"A customer?" I joke.

"I'm being serious Derek!" He whines.

I shrug. "I missed you." I say truthfully.

"So you pin me against the wall and bite me?!" He frowns and I can smell how nervous he is.

I smile. "Well, I hadn't even planned on seeing you today, so I can't say I planned it. You don't want me to do it again?"

He blushes. "Why would I-"

I reach out and grab his wrist pulling him closer to me. "Why did you lock the door and turn out the lights?" I ask.

He huffs. "Whatever. So we don't get interrupted again." He mumbles obviously knowing how the sentence sounds.

"Stiles..." I start, grabbing his chin so he looks up at me. "I know that you've been attracted to me since we first met. The whole pack knows."

"Not all of them have special noses." He grumbles, pulling his hand away and stepping back to cross his arms again.

I laugh. "No, but they gossip. The point is, you were never subtle. And at the start, it was sweet, both figuratively and literally, too sweet for me, however." I see his shoulders slump. "But... As you matured so did your scent. I remember thinking it was weird having a kid find me attractive, and then suddenly, one day, I found myself wanting to make you smell like that."

"And when was that?"

I hum in thought. "Probably after the whole "me" thing, as you put it, with the FBI. Being in South America, away from everyone, away from you and your smell and then having to carry you out of the building when your toe was shot probably helped me realise."

"Wait, so you... Like me, my scent?" He asks hopeful, confused.

"Oh, you mean your deep, warm, smooth scent mixed with a sharp bitterness and undertones of sweet and fruity, like a good dark roast coffee. No, why would anyone want that?" I finish sarcastically.

He frowns. "What, are you a critic now? Sharp bitterness? If anyone has a sharp bitterness it's you. Also, did you just call me fruity?"

I laugh softly grabbing his face with one hand, rubbing my thumb over his cheek. He responds automatically, leaning against my hand. "I called you delicious." I say stepping closer.

He looks up at me, head tilted, eyes widened, almost begging, like a dog waiting patiently for a treat. "Like coffee?"

I nod softly. "Intoxicating." I say leaning in to meet his lips. He relaxes into the soft kiss, slow and savouring. My lips move gently as my tongue swipes at his lips.

His taste is just like his scent, warm, rich, with just enough sweetness. I sigh, breathing in his scent and taste, finding myself wanting to drown in him.

I hadn't even realised his arms had snaked themselves around my neck pulling me down to meet his height.

Stiles may not be a werewolf or technically any supernatural creature that we know of, but he is strong, brave and smart... And my favourite member of the pack. Technically we all wouldn't even be a pack without him.

I lean further into the kiss, moving my hand down to his waist before leaning down further to lift him into my arms to stand back up straight. He hums in surprise but doesn't break the kiss, instead tilting his head happily to deepen it and hooking his thighs over my hips.

When the kiss is finally broken he drops his head to rest on my shoulder as he breaths heavily, arms tightening slightly around my neck.

I chuckle softly as I readjust him in my arms. I lean against the bookcase smiling softly. 'Definitely not what I thought I was looking for on this trip but maybe the universe thought it was time.' I scrunch my face up at my own cheesy thought.

He nuzzles his nose into my neck softly before pulling back. "How did you know where to find me?" He asks softly.

I shrug. "I didn't. I told you Scott sent me to find myself. I just happened to come to this town and got bored. Hence why I came to a bookshop."

"So you didn't know I was here?" He asks softly.

I chuckle. "My senses aren't that strong. It wasn't until I stepped through the door, did I smell you."

He nods and goes quiet avoiding my gaze, which for Stiles is strange. I decide to change the subject.

"You should come home." I whisper trying to meet his eyes.

He sighs. "I have a life here and-"

"A life?" I cut him off. "You're already planning on leaving here in a year anyway, plus you're sad here. Your family are in Beacon Hills and the pack will be back soon. I promised not to tell anyone but I think you should."

He shakes his head. "I can't move back into my dad's house, a failure, no job.'

"He'll understand. He misses you. Plus, there are plenty of jobs around town. I just bought an auto shop and technically work with your dad as an unofficial supernatural consultant. You could help out with either of those. And there's a bookshop if this is your secret passion." I say, looking around the dark room.

He frowns. "Sounds like you don't want to do your own work." He jokes.

I raise an eyebrow. "The work where I'm my own boss? The work I give myself? Yeah, 'cause that makes sense." I roll my eyes.

He sighs. "The prodigal son, crawling home in defeat." He says sarcastically.

I chuckle. "Do you know what prodigal means? Trust me, he'll still be proud of you; we all will." I say holding him tighter against my chest. "I'm proud of you for finding a way to take care of yourself without us after your internship went sideways."

He pouts, laying his head back down. "You shouldn't be." He mumbles.

I shake my head. "It's your choice. I'm going to go back tomorrow, you could come with me. Or whenever, you can always stay with me or Scott if you don't want to go back to your dad's."

"What about finding yourself?"

I shrug. "I think I've found what I needed. Just a nice break before I jump into a more mundane part of life. I am nearly thirty."

He nods in thought. "I can't just pack up and leave this job." He mumbles again.

"I get that. I didn't expect you to; I just thought I'd give you the option." I look down the aisle and sigh. "I should go. Don't want you to get fired." I say slightly letting go of my grip.

"What? No!" He says grabbing onto my neck tighter.

"Stiles." I shake my head fully letting go of him as he clings to me, staying up out of his own strength.

"You can't just show up out of nowhere, make out with me and then disappear." He grumbles.

"I'm not disappearing. I'll be in Beacon Hills." I point out.

"You could stay here, with me." He says slightly slipping.

"Stiles, I have a life to go back to there. This time, I have reasons to go back." I say seriously.

He sighs and jumps down, crossing his arms. "You're so mean. You know that? Mean." He grumbles walking back towards the front of the store.

I chuckle and follow him to the door. He switches on the light and then unlocks the door, frowning when he turns back to me.

"Stiles, stop being dramatic." I sigh. "It's not forever. And you're welcome to move back whenever you want." I lean over and kiss his cheek, whispering softly. "Or move in." I tease.

He blushes and pushes me backwards trying to hide his face. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He mumbles.

I smile. "Goodbye, Stiles." I say taking a step towards the door.

"Wait!" He grabs my shirt, pulling lightly; I give in and bend down, allowing him to kiss my lips. "Now you can leave."

"Gee, thanks." I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes. I open the door and walk out.

"Bye." He says softly.

I turn back and wave before heading to my car.

-----

Hi, yeah, I didn't have any plans for this. Just wanted to write my boys. Just wrote as it came to me.

Also, I can't drink coffee (Don't ask; I have a caffeine intolerance borderline allergy, plus I have ADHD, so it wouldn't even work properly.), so I hope that description works, if not all well. If I drank coffee that's how I'd want it to taste.

I have a few chapters planned with jumps everywhere. Really it's just a few stories that just happen to be in the same weird timeline.

Love ya

Drew X