"Are we there yet?" Stiles grumbled to no one in particular. Just ahead of him, Lydia's car flashed its blinker and branched off onto yet another dirt road, following Derek's black Camaro further into the middle of nowhere. With a sigh, Stiles turned his jeep after them, wishing for a normal asphalt road with every rough bump and bounce.
Suddenly, his cell rang, the first noise Stiles had heard, other than himself, since the radio lost signal two hours ago. He managed to fish the phone from his pocket without swerving into the trees and glanced at the name before answering.
"Scott, what's the deal? Where's the sourwolf leading us?"
"No idea. Derek just called our car saying we're almost there. Just passing the message down."
"Good to know I'm being kept in the loop," Stiles grumbled. He could just make out the sounds of Allison, Jackson, and Lydia chatting in the background. A particularly large bump in the road resulted in Stiles' head colliding with the roof of his jeep.
Through the phone, Scott heard the long and very profane string of curses that followed. "Uh you okay back there?"
"Oh I'm just fine; the luggage keeps excellent company!" Stiles cheered sarcastically, glancing at the suitcases and duffle bags stuffed in the backseat of his jeep.
With the whole 'Jackson is a kanima set on killing us' incident over with and the future threat of an alpha pack coming to town, their own pack was in need of a little R&R and some bonding time with their newest members. A few days after school let out, Derek suggested a trip to one of his family's old cabins. Stiles didn't think the invitation was extended to him but, thanks to Scott claiming him to be part of the pack, the normal boy had been roped into summer camp for werewolves.
Just another day in the life of Stiles Stilinski.
To make matters worse, Stiles was stuck alone in his jeep with everyone else's luggage. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were riding with Derek while Scott, Allison, and Jackson were stuffed in Lydia's car. There wasn't much room left for their bags so Stiles had graciously offered to load it into his own passenger-less jeep; aka, he knew no one would volunteer to ride with him so he might as well make himself look useful.
Scott's sigh through the phone caught his attention. "Come on, Stiles. Don't be like that. It's just the ride up. We should be there in about five minutes."
"Yeah well don't expect me to carry your bags inside. I'm no bell boy," Stilinski huffed.
"Come on, dude, this is supposed to be fun! We deserve a vacation!"
"Yeah well I feel like the ninth wheel in this little werewolf pack-bonding powwow."
"You're pack too," Scott insisted even if it was utter bullshit. Stiles openly laughed at the serious tone his friend was using.
"Yeah right I'm sure Derek's thrilled to have the puny human tagging along."
"Allison and Lydia are human too," Scott pointed out.
Stiles leaned forward, trying to make out a shape hidden behind the trees through his dirty windshield. It looked vaguely house shaped but he didn't want to get his hopes up. "Technically Lydia was bitten even if she didn't turn and Allison is a werewolf hunter; she's scarier than most of you guys. I, on the other hand, am only good for shuttling the luggage."
Scott gave an exasperated sigh through the phone. "Stiles, you may not be a fighter but you're still an important member. You're always there to help when there's trouble."
"And to get slammed into walls," he grumbled too quietly for even Scott's werewolf hearing to catch.
"What about balls?"
"Never mind," Stiles snapped, hitting the brakes before his jeep could hit the back of Lydia's suddenly stopped car.
"I think we're here." Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott's assumption. They might have been friends but Stiles would be the first to admit that Scott wasn't the brightest bulb in the box.
"I see that." An awkward silence followed before Stiles added, "I'm hanging up now."
Everyone piled out of the three cars, stretching their cramped muscles as they moved forward to crowd around Derek's Camaro. Leaving his jeep at the end of the driveway, Stiles weaved his way through the group to stand next to Scott and see if their long drive was worth it.
"Wooow!" the pack breathed at once as they surveyed the scene. Nestled between the towering pine trees was a cozy little cabin escaped from a brochure. It was two stories tall and painted a sky blue with white trim. It looked picture perfect, if not a little old, and way too normal for a werewolf vacation home.
When Derek noticed the stares directed at him, he raised his dark eyebrows and shrugged. "My mom liked to come out here during the summer. She did most of the decorating. How about a tour?"
He led the way down the cobblestone path and up the steps of the white wooden porch. While Derek dug the key out of his pocket, Stiles inched away to glance around the side of the house. From what he could see, it joined with a deck in the back that held what looked a lot like a pool and fire-pit. Before he could explore further, a loudly cleared throat made him jump and spin around.
From across the now empty porch, Derek was watching him, his arms crossed and his gray-green eyes staring at him questioningly. "You coming in?" the older man asked, nodding towards the door where everyone else had crowded inside. Blushing with embarrassment, Stiles gave a quick nod and marched past the intimidating werewolf to join the group indoors.
The inside of the cabin was even more surprising than the outside had been. To the left was a large kitchen with a bright yellow cabinets and lacey curtains. A curious peek in the pantry proved it to be fully stocked and ready for a werewolf feeding frenzy. On the right, the living room was set up with comfy couches and chairs around a large TV. Across the room, a sliding glass door proved Stiles' right; there was definitely a pimped out deck in the back.
Derek gestured to a small staircase near the kitchen door. "There are three rooms upstairs and another down here," he pointed to a subtle door tucked not far behind the loveseat. "I don't care who sleeps where just don't fight over rooms and couples had better keep it down."
Each of the couples in turn ranged from embarrassed to oblivious innocence. Isaac, one of the few in the group to be single, was quick to pick his spot. "Dibs on the couch!"
That triggered the rest to rush for the stairs and claim a room. Lydia and Jackson made it to the largest room at the end of the hall with Scott and Allison next door. There was a quick conversation that suggested the girls share a room instead of with the boys but Lydia insisted that the current arrangement would be best since they would probably end up switching around anyways. Besides, the idea of Scott and Jackson having to share a room was enough to make a saint cringe. Erica and Boyd discreetly claimed the room closest to the stairs as their own, leaving only Stiles, Derek, and the room on the ground floor.
Stiles mentally groaned but said nothing. Maybe if he didn't mention it the awkward situation would just go away; denial was one of the teen's few talents. That and sarcasm.
"Guess I'll sleep on the roof," he offered weakly. The werewolves left in the room rolled their eyes but offered no comment. With the awkward filling the room, Stiles then decided on a retreat. "Why don't I just go get the bags?"
"Good idea, Stilinski," Jackson sneered from the stairs, the rest of the pack following him down now that the boarding situation was settled. "Just go ahead and put my bags in my room."
He shoved his way past the smaller teen, nearly knocking Stiles over in the process, and went to have a seat on the couch. His rest was short lived, though, when a strong hand yanked him up by the arm and spun him towards the door.
"How about you bring the bags in," Derek ordered, nodding towards the door. Jackson looked like he wanted to argue but his resolve crumbled under the alpha's stern gaze. With a pointed huff in Stiles' direction, Jackson turned and went to obey Derek's orders.
Stiles, meanwhile, was still trying to figure out what just happened. It was the first time he could remember that Derek had ever stuck up for him. Usually he was the one picking on Stiles, slamming him into walls and what not. After a moment of stunned silence, Stiles finally found his voice and promptly blurted out. "I'm going to check out the room."
The outburst earned him odd looks but he was too busy crossing the den to care. He barely paused at the door before swinging it open and hurtling head first into the dark. He backed up and flailed his hand against the wall until it hit the light switch. Soft light illuminated the room, revealing a relieving sight for Stiles' frazzled nerves.
"Here," Derek suddenly voiced from the door way, tossing Stiles' duffle bag on the floor. "Hurry up and unpack, everyone wants to go swimming."
When he saw Stiles silently staring at the room, he glanced around curiously. "What?"
"There are two beds," Stiles whispered before bursting into laughing. "You didn't say there were two beds!"
Sure enough, instead of the one bed Stiles' awkward, and slightly perverted mind, had imagined, two twin beds had been made up and pushed to either ends of the room. It was a welcoming sight even if a small part of Stiles was almost disappointed.
Derek only raised his eyebrows at Stiles' discovery. "Well yeah there are two beds. What exactly were you expecting?"
The question froze Stiles. What had he been expecting? He glanced at Derek, unsure what to say. The older man didn't say anything, just continued to stare at him with that infuriatingly blank face. There was no telling what he was thinking.
"It wasn't…I didn't…" Stiles stuttered, feeling his face grow hot from embarrassment. Derek only smirked at his discomfort.
"Oh just never mind!" he finally shouted, stomping past Derek to head for the deck.
Not even an hour in and Stiles was already regretting this vacation.