Sterek(oneshots)

Same old song and dance

Being trapped in the middle of the woods with an alpha werewolf was not part of Stiles' plan. In fact he hadn't planned to be in the woods at all, but of course when he gets a call from Allison saying that she's tracking a rogue and could use the help, he doesn't hesitate. Allison is the closest thing he has to family and he'd do anything for her, which is how he finds himself in the woods at dusk with a full moon only hours away, searching for the huntress.

The air was already starting to cool without the sun's rays to keep it warm. Pulling his jacket up around him, Stiles scanned the brushy underground for any of Allison's signature traps. Spotting only three, he carefully maneuvered around them. He only wondered if the alpha would be able to spot them as easily as he had. Sure, Stiles was a trained hunter and knew Allison's traps like the back of his hand, but the alpha had been hunted for years and yet still was untouched by any hunter.

Stiles had only been hunting the alpha for nearly a year. It was like a game to the werewolf. Stiles was sure one of them should have killed the other by now and yet they both continued this dance.

The deeper Stiles got into the woods the darker it became, the trees shielding what little light was left in the sky. His hands clasped around the hilts of his twin daggers that sat tucked into his thigh holsters, one on each leg. If Allison were with him, she would be going on about how he should really learn to use a bow. Hunters rarely used guns when going after their prey, it drew too much attention with how loud they were. Stiles preferred his ten inch double edge Damascus daggers.

"Awfully late of you to be out here alone."

Stiles froze at the all too familiar voice. He slowly pulled his blades from their spots.

"Oh put those away, you and I both know you aren't going to use them," The alpha's voice was louder.

Stiles turned to see the familiar red eyes.

"Derek Hale," Stiles spoke between clenched teeth.

"Stiles Stilinski, we meet again," Derek's eyes faded from their alpha red as he stepped forward.

Stiles made no move to attack, but his blades were at the ready just in case Derek did.

"What are you doing in my woods at nightfall on the night of a full moon? Tired of your simplistic hunter life already?" Derek quirked a brow.

"Hunting a rogue," Stiles answered vaguely. He wouldn't let Derek know that Allison was out here alone and in need of his help.

"Ah, yes, the lone wolf causing mayhem. I've taken care of him," Derek looked up at the sky as if trying to spot the still rising moon.

Stiles frowned. "Taken care of him?"

"Like I told you before, I'm not the bad guy here," Derek's tone was easy, as if he were talking to an old acquaintance and not a deadly enemy.

Stiles scoffed in response.

"Did you do what I asked?" Derek turned his eyes back to Stiles. It was getting too dark to see but Stiles knew them to be a soft green color.

"Why would I?" Stiles snapped. He didn't like to be told what to do, especially by some mutant dog.

"Why wouldn't you?"

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the Werewolf.

"Unless, it's because you're afraid of what you'll find. You know there's a chance I'm right and you can't stand the thought of it."

Stiles' patience was waning, and he knew it.

"You're wrong," Stiles spoke between grit teeth. He knew attacking from the front would only get him hurt, he would have to wait for Derek's guard to drop further or for him to attack.