#fic by lonelydude

[thatonelonelydude]

Right Place, Wrong Time

A sterek fic, part 1

Derek's brain sluggishly drug him from unconsciousness. His body was telling him that he was in danger, that there was something in the room with him, but his bone deep exhaustion was tugging him back under and the ache that permeated throughout his entire being made him not want to wake. With what little alertness he had, he tried to sense what put his subconscious on high alert. He was still in the Stilinski household, in Stiles' bed where he had crashed earlier in the night, and nothing felt out of place. There were no foreign sounds or smells, and the only heartbeats in the house were his and the sheriff's. He rolled onto his side with a low groan and buried his face in the pillow beneath his head. He forced himself to relax back into the sheets and for his mind to quiet down. He had nearly drifted off again when a very important fact finally registered in his mind.

The sheriff was home.

The wolf's eyes flew open at the realization, and he frantically tried to located the man's heartbeat over the pounding of his own. If the sheriff found him in his son's bed he was for sure a deadman. Considering he used to be a fugitive, the man wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in his head and fill him full of lead. Why did Stiles have to pick this night of all nights to stay at Scott's? Why couldn't he be here to talk his dad down so Derek could leave the house alive and not in a body bag? This was going to be his last day on earth and he knew it.

Ba-bump, ba-bump.

There it was. He focused on the sound to see if the sheriff was far enough away that he could slip away undetected.

Ba-bump, ba-bump.

His heartbeat sounded eerily close. Almost like he was-

Ba-bump.

Oh boy. He was standing right behind him, wasn't he?

Derek slowly turned his head to peer over his shoulder and locked eyes with the barrel of a familiar gun. Shit. He had spent all day, from dawn till dusk, dodging the bullets and arrows of hunters, and now he was going to die at the hands of the sheriff. His eyes trailed upwards from the gun to the face of its owner and was met a hard glare.

"You better have one hell of a reason as to why you're in my house." John growled out, voice cold.

Derek looked back down at the gun pointed at his head. There was no way he could talk himself out of this predicament, he wasn't Stiles. Although, he sure wished he was right now. There was nothing he could say that would work as an excuse to explain why he was here, and he was probably going to get shot no matter what he said. He could feel a thin sheen of sweat forming as he started panicking internally. John shifted his stance, leering over the wolf in more intimidating manor while he waited for an answer.

"I uh... I stay here sometimes since I don't exactly have the most livable accommodations, as your son would put it." Derek eventually responded. He kept his voice low, afraid of being too loud, and winced as he forced each word out.

"And why would my son be speaking to you?" As the sheriff spoke, the gun steadily drew closer. Oh well, if he was going to die anyway, why not drop a few bombshells on the way out.

"Because I'm dating him."

He watched as an array of emotions flitted across John's face, shock, confusion, anger. As quickly as they came, they were gone, and the sheriff had his stony glare back on. He was silent for a beat and then adjusted his grip on the gun.

"Are you having sex with my son?" he asked calmly.

What?

Derek's eyes widened comically, and he shook his head vigorously.

"No! Nonono." If the sheriff thought he was banging his son, he was bound to get trigger happy. John stared down at the wolf, watching him for a moment, before lowering his gun. His face now a mask of indifference. Derek let out silent breath he didn't know he had been holding. That could have gone a lot worse than it did. The sheriff stood straight, turning away from the wolff, and moved out of the room. He paused in the doorway momentarily to look back at Derek.

"I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow."

Derek watched him leave warily. He was puzzled as to whether that was an invitation or demand, but from his tone it was most likely the latter. He waited long after he heard the sheriff's bedroom door shut before settling back down, and it was even longer before he was able to fall back asleep. Tomorrow he would see if would be in his best interest to stay or leave, but tonight he was going to rest while he still had the chance.