Alpha's Power

⇠Styling⇢

If you asked Stiles, he would tell you that he loved his friends more than anything, so when Lydia started poking her nose into his secret relationship, he fought himself to spill everything to her. But at the moment, Stiles wanted nothing more than to bail on the strawberry blonde and rush back to the chubby alpha waiting for him. Tapping his foot impatiently as the woman perused the rack of clothing, the teenager knew Derek would understand that there were multiple times the werewolf commented on his fashion choices. But they had started something that Stiles knew was going to be the death of him. Derek Hale was finally letting go of control. And it was all thanks to the teenager finally chipping enough of the alpha's walls away. Chewing on his bottom lip, the teenager's eyes flicked around the store as he let out a frustrated sigh. "Will you calm down already? Your booty call will still be where you left them tomorrow," Lydia called from another rack of clothing.

Stiles growled slightly, rolling his eyes. "They're not a booty call, Lyds." He replied.

With a light laugh, the Banshee added several more shirts to the mounting heap of clothes. "It's good to see you passionate about something other than cold case files." She snorted.

The teenager's gaze rapidly dropped to the ground as he felt the tips of his ears heat up. "They just get me, you know." He whispered.

"Listen, just because we tease you a lot doesn't mean we won't support you," Lydia said with a nod. "Stiles, you need not worry about what we think of your new boyfriend because you are a member of our pack." She added.

The male teenager swallowed thickly. "What if Scott doesn't like them?" He asked nervously.

The other hesitated, looking at Stiles for a considerable amount of time before letting out a sigh. "The fact that he leads the group doesn't signify anything; he's shit out of luck then. He should be thinking of you, his best buddy, rather than his werewolf dick." With a hand on her hip, she said.

As the other threw another shirt into the stack and began shoving Stiles in the direction of the changing room, Stiles couldn't help but chuckle. When Lydia arrived, she pushed the adolescent into one of the rooms while shoving a tiny armful of clothes into his arms. After watching Stiles roll his eyes, Lydia shut the door and took a seat on the bench a short distance from it. From the pile, the teenager took out a black blouse with a white feather pattern and some black skinny trousers with a knee hole in them. He groaned and scrunched up his nose as he removed his old clothes and put on the new ones. "I don't see the point in this," he said. Glancing at himself in the mirror, he called. He had to confess that he kind of enjoyed the way the trousers and shirt hugged his lean body and showed off his ass. His thoughts strayed back to Derek, picturing the werewolf growling on his neck and his eyes bulging with intense want.

"I assume you want to look good for your boy. The best method for doing that is this. Just picture his face when you arrive tomorrow, sex-soaked." Lydia answered.

The teenager cocked his head to the side with confusion, glancing back at the mirror for a second. "And new clothes are the answer?" He quizzed.

The strawberry blonde laughed and turned to look at her magazine. "Of course, especially if he's also sex on a stick." She responded.

The male shook his head, adding the clothing to the pile. "I don't think having a 'who's sexier match' is the answer to my problem, Lyds." Stiles sighed.

With a sigh, the woman rolled her eyes. "This is about you unwinding and having fun, Stiles—not about your situation. This is just the beginning. She answered.

"Fine, fine. You win." The teenager called with a chuckle, turning his attention back to the pile of clothing. The thoughts in the teenager's mind were swirling around in his brain; half of him was excited to see Derek's reaction, while the other half was nervous. They never talked about sex; sure, they kissed and cuddled, or Stiles fed Derek to the point he was going to explode. But they never talked about sex, which terrified the male. What if Derek didn't want Stiles? What if this was pushing it too far? Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Stiles moved to the next pair of clothing, holding up a dark grey shirt with a frond-plant pattern as well as dark blue jeans. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his head, Stiles let out a small sigh and started getting dressed once again.

***

Lydia Martin wanted to poke her nose into Stiles's relationship, so here he was, trudging through his door with five bags of clothes dangling from his arms. To be honest, though, he had a great time and would go again if the other person asked. Sadly, the girl had a talent for extracting information from people without them even realizing it. Lydia somehow discovered that he was living in Beacon Hills without having completed high school and that he was seeing someone who was involved in the paranormal. There weren't many supernatural individuals in Beacon Hills who didn't go to high school, so Stiles cursed at himself.

Half of Stiles wondered if it would be a bad thing if someone knew about him and Derek; it would be a pressure off his chest, and maybe he could get some advice. The strawberry blonde was the most open-minded of the pack; hell, she was dating Allison's father. So the teenager was sure if the teenager told her she'd laugh and tease at first, and she would probably keep the secret. What was holding him back was his promise to Derek not to tell anyone. Stiles tossed the bags onto the couch, slumping next to the small pile. Pulling his phone from his pocket and smiling.

Did you have fun with Lydia? -D

She has successfully 'made me sex on a stick'."

Ooo, I got competition, excited to see what she's done. -D

You are such a horn wolf; I'll see you tomorrow. Love ya!

I love you too, Stiles -D.