Monster. (Sterek)

Part 22: Crowded Fun.

TW: drunkenness/drunk people, and implied underage drinking

The bouncer checked their IDs and let them into the already packed club. Not everyone had been able to come. Some of them wouldn't be able to pass for twenty-one, and Derek was apprehensive about letting Liam, Mason and Corey come (as they were the youngest in The Pack). But promises to have a Pack Night as soon as possible were made so there wasn't too much grumbling.

Stiles saw the wolves flinch as they entered and asked, "Are you guys gonna be okay? You know, with your hearing and all."

"We'll be fine," Jackson said as he and Ethan disappeared into the crowd.

"Something tells me that this is gonna be less of a party and more of a generic club night," Stiles said.

"You're probably right," Lydia smirked as her eyes scanned the dance floor, landing on someone in the mass of bodies. "I'll see you later." Kissing Stiles' cheek, she left, too.

Stiles looked around to see that everyone was already on the dance floor, except him and Derek. Derek shifted and took Stiles' hand, guiding him towards the bar. Stiles went along, glad that Derek was there, keeping him close. "Can I get a cola and a glass of water?" Derek asked when they made it there.

The bartender frowned, looking Stiles over, with distaste then looking back at Derek with an eyebrow raised, "Is that all?" he leaned over the bar slightly, moving into Derek's personal space.

"Yes, thanks." Derek's words came out sharper than before, a broken growl barely hidden.

"No alcohol?"

"I don't drink."

"And what about for your..." The bartender gestured vaguely at Stiles, clearly looking for some kind of confirmation that they weren't together.

Derek put his arm around Stiles' waist, and Stiles leaned into it, "He's not a big drinker either."

"Alright then," the guy huffed and left to get Derek's order for him.

"You know, I can order and speak for myself, right?" Stiles asked. While he wasn't upset at Derek – he was right after all; he wasn't up for drinking tonight, after everything he just wanted complete control of himself – he wanted Derek to know he didn't have to speak for him.

"I know, but that guy rubs me the wrong way." Stiles hid his smile in Derek's shoulder just as the bartender came back with their drinks. Derek paid and went to drink when he noticed the number on the napkin under his glass. "For fuck's sake." He muttered, shredding the number with his claws and leaving it in a pile.

"Put those away." Stiles sighed, grabbing Derek's hands and hiding his fingers, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. The crowd were all too busy with themselves to be paying attention to two guys who appeared to only be drinking at the bar. Derek was safe.

"Sorry, it just bugs me. I was obviously not interested."

"How often does this happen?"

"I don't really go out to the club much, but when I do it usually happens a couple of times." Stiles felt a jolt of fire run through him, "I've never used the numbers, though. I don't really do one night stands, I'm not interested in people who only want to have sex with me." He pulled a hand free from Stiles' grip to take a sip of water, swallowing hard.

Stiles understood where Derek was coming from. He was kind of glad about it, too. But it just made him wonder why Derek wanted him, if he still did. Derek could have literally anyone, so why him?

"Anyway, how are you feeling?" Derek asked, moving away from Stiles to sit at one of the bar stools. "When you woke up I was so glad to hear your heart beat so strongly but then... well, you know."