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would you do anything about alan x stiles but where they only have a few years of an age difference so either teens au or older au?

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Anonymous said: 

Hi!!! I have a little prompt for you! If you could please write another Alan\Stiles drabble with smut and a lil bit off fluff??? I don’t really care what you do with it tbh. 

A/N: okay, okay, so let me tell you guys, that I looked into Seth Gilliam to find pictures of him when he was younger and woooooooooooo I can’t not include this pic (found on imdb) to the fill:

In the fic Alan is about 27 - the same as Derek, and Stiles will be 22-ish.

Stiles wasn’t really nervous about the negotiations with the Hale pack, not until he stepped into the living room of the large house the Hales rented in the preserve for the occasion.

But as soon as he did, he promptly tripped over a rug, crashed into a small side-table and broke the vase filled with dried flowers that was sitting on it. The only reason he didn’t break his nose too was that Scott managed to catch him in time before he face-planted. Thank god for werewolf reflexes.

The Hale alpha didn’t comment on him destroying rented property, just raised a delicate eyebrow. 

It was a very talkative eyebrow, it said ‘what is this imbecile doing here? who allowed him into my majestic presence?’ or at least that was the vibe Stiles was getting. He straightened with as little flailing as he could and excused himself, only realizing that he’ve just told everyone that ‘sorry I forgot my frog under the shovel’ when he was already panting for breath on the front porch.

Holy shit. 

He couldn’t do this now. This really wasn’t the time. They didn’t expect to have any trouble with the Hales, but it was still an important meeting for such a relatively new pack as theirs.

He almost managed to catch his breath when the door opened and Lydia stomped out, the tight line of her shoulders managing to remind him just how much he already fucked up.

“I… I don’t even have a frog,” he said in panic to which Lydia’s only answer was to smack him. Hard.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, Stiles?” she hissed, stomping her foot.

“Lydia, Lydia, shit, I’m so fucking sorry. But you of all people know how I… What happens when I see someone…” he didn’t even need to finish, he could see from the way her eyes first widened and then narrowed.

“You can’t have a crush now, Stilinski. I will end you,” she whispered, “Who is it? Is it Derek? He’s the alpha’s son! You can’t…”

Stiles tried to think. He researched the Hale pack, researched them as soon as they announced that the alpha would be coming with two of her children and some of her pack. He thought he saw pictures of Derek…

“What? Worm-brows? No, no the one… who was standing beside him?”

“Oh,” Lydia said in understanding. “You missed the introductions. He’s Deaton, the Hale emissary,” she explained.

“He’s the emissary? But he’s only a few years older than us, emissaries are supposed to be… I don’t know, older!”

“You’re point being?” Lydia asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Oh, right. He was an emissary too.

Lydia stared at him like she couldn’t believe how stupid he was for forgetting it, and the familiarity of it was enough to make him deflate a bit, heart-rate slowly getting back to normal.

“I thought I was special?” he offered in his defense. 

She just shook her head and then looked straight into his eyes.

“Listen to me, idiot. We are going to go in there, and do everything as scheduled. I’m going to help Scott with the negotiations since he doesn’t know shit about politics and you… You will just sit down, and try not to move.”

Stiles nodded, not missing the ‘or else’ behind her words.

“Good. You will keep your mouth closed - I don’t care if you’re thirsty or hungry - because we both know that will result in a disaster. It’s only for this afternoon. After we hammered out the details you are free to make a complete fool of yourself, but not until then, understood?”

Stiles swallowed nervously. He could try.

***

Alan was simultaneously more and less impressed with the McCall pack than he anticipated. For a start, the very first thing McCall insisted on was that they weren’t the ‘McCall’ pack but the ‘Beacon Hills’ pack. His explanation about how he didn’t feel comfortable with being elevated to a higher status than the others seemed to ring right with Talia and showed a glimpse of how the boy became a True Alpha.

The redhead, Lydia was also amazing, chirping into the conversation whenever she felt like a little intermission or deflection was needed, but she did it so artfully that Talia couldn’t take offence to someone butting into the negotiation between alphas.

Alan could feel the way Derek’s muscles lost some of their tension as the talking went on - he was always defensive of his mother -, but even he couldn’t feel a single sign of threat from the other pack. 

It wasn’t exactly complicated; the Hales - who owned the territory some one hundred years ago, but since moved into the New York area - wanted to revive their relationship with the land. If they had the idea a few years prior, they wouldn’t have had a problem, but for the last few years McCall and his pack had been keeping Beacon Hills safe and so earned it for themselves.

All in all, they seemed like a nice lot. The only one sticking out was their emissary. He as… interesting.

At first Alan was amazed by the raw potential radiating from the boy - especially since he really was just a boy - but then he noticed how weird he actually was. 

He didn’t even want to think about the entrance Stilinski made, Laura could barely hold back her laughter when the guy almost broke his neck just coming in… It was slightly better after the girl - Lydia - bought him back from where he ran off, but even after that he was sitting stiff as a statue, with only the way his face was red and blotchy indicating that he was even alive.

He was cute though, with the upturned nose and the sparkly eyes. Alan knew that they were on a diplomatic mission though, and not on a holiday, but if things were different…

As expected, everything went well; there really wasn’t anything to argue about and McCall seemed eager enough to build connections, so they agreed to let Cora move to the town next year and finish high school at Beacon Hills. In exchange Talia promised to offer assistance and guidance if the pack ever faced hunters or supernatural threats, and even gave an open invitation to any of the Beacon Hills pack coming to New York.

After the official part of the meeting was over everyone started mingling - well, everyone except the Stilinski boy, who was dragged into the hallway by Lydia.

“So,” Alan started, poking Derek with his elbow, “what did you think?”

“I think that their emissary stinks,” his friend said, brows furrowed and arms folded over his chest.

“Stinks?” Alan loved Derek like a brother, but sometimes he wanted to strangle the guy for never learning how to use his words.

Laura snickered behind them and threw a hand over her brother’s shoulders.

“Don’t listen to him, Al! Come now, baby bro. I want you talk to Scott, he’s a pretty nice kid, I think even you could become a fan…” she said, pulling Derek away just as Talia walked up to them.

Alan shifted, straightening his back. He wasn’t intimidated by Talia, but it was true that she was one of the most powerful shifters in the country. It was an almost unbelievable honor that she chose Alan to be her emissary. Well, his family had been connected to the supernatural for generations in one way or another, and they had connections to the Hales before, but still. He couldn’t slack off.

“I was thinking about taking everyone out for ice-cream,” Talia said, giving him a little wink. Alan nodded; it was probably a good idea. For wolves it was important to get to know people more deeply than just an agreement. Learning how another pack sounded, smelled and behaved was just as important in building ties and that could only be achieved by spending time together.

“I thought you should stay here with Stilinski and you two could work on… warding the house. If we are going to come back with any regularity we will need a safe place to stay,” she added.

“I could probably do it alone…” Alan started, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand.

“Nonsense, my dear. I love you like my own children,” she said, her eyes darting to the corner where Laura was right in the middle of telling an embarrassing childhood story about her brother to Scott while Derek growled at her at a steadily raising volume. “Sometimes, probably more. So, take my advice and get to know the boy. You can never know, maybe you will manage to swap a few… trade secrets.”

He blinked at the alpha in confusion. That sounded almost like… Did Talia notice that he was a bit… preoccupied with the guy? He knew it was possible for the wolves to smell arousal, but he didn’t think he had been obvious.

Talia didn’t wait for him to figure it out, she just hollered for everyone to gather at the cars and the house was cleared out in a matter of minutes.

Stilinski was standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room, but then he audibly swallowed and stomped over to Alan like he was going to war.

“Hi,” he said, thrusting his hand out in greeting “I’m Stiles. Uh… I missed the introductions.”

Alan couldn’t help grinning a little as he shook the offered hand.

“Yeah, because of the frog, I remember. Alan, nice to meet you.”

Stiles turned beet red and rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, ugh, sorry about that. I guess I didn’t make a very good first impression.”

Alan decided to let him off the hook. The guy really was cute when he was all flustered.

“Don’t worry about it. So, what do you know about protection runes?”

***

As it turned out, Stiles didn’t know much about protection runes - or any kind of emissary work, for that matter. He seemed eager to learn though, and with all the intelligent questions he asked and his obvious thirst for knowledge, his incompetence was kind of endearing.

At first.

They were just doing the outside of the house; carving runes with a pocket knife into the base of the building, and Alan was stupid enough to let Stiles have a try at charging one.

“Okay, now, you have to put your palm over it and fill it with your will, but be careful, because-”

“Hold on, I’ve got it,” Stiles declared, and then promptly set the house on fire.

It was just a small fire, easily put out with a bucket of water that was laying around in the yard, but Alan was pretty freaked out - the Hales’ aversion to fire seemed to be catching.

“Seriously?! That’s like, the first thing you learn in training! I can’t believe you messed it up!” Alan snapped, probably a bit harsher than he intended. For the first time Stiles seemed genuinely upset.

“Yeah, well, Mr Bigshot Emissary, not all of us went to Hogwarts or wherever they’ve taught you this shit! I’ve only learned about this whole magic thing like, a year ago! And the first person who actually has practical knowledge of this stuff,” he said, waving a hand at Alan, “is so hot that I won’t remember a thing he told me come tomorrow, because I can’t take my eyes off his… person.”

Alan stood there, dumbstruck at the outburst as Stiles finally snapped his mouth shut and proceeded to turn very, very red.

“I’m going inside,” he said, disappearing around the corner before Alan could even open his mouth.

***

He found Stiles on the couch, holding his hand to his chest protectively; his palm probably got a bit scorched from the rune. Alan quietly rummaged through his bag before he sat down next to him.

“Can I see?”

Stiles looked at him with an unreadable expression for a long moment, then huffed out a long breath and held his hand out.

Alan took it carefully, applying the balm he made to the reddened skin before enveloping Stiles’ hands between his own. He closed his eyes and wished, willing the herbs to ease the pain and hurry the healing along.

Stiles gasped and then made a little moaning sound that made Alan’s stomach squirm.

“Wow! Wow, that was so cool,” Stiles said, slowly taking his hand back and looking at his almost completely healed palm.

“I can teach it to you? If you want, that is,” Alan said carefully. Talia told him about how the Beacon Hills pack had no predecessors, no one to lead them with experience, but for a second he forgot that that meant Stiles had no formal training either. It was kind of amazing that he managed to use his abilities so well with just his instincts to guide him.

Stiles glanced away, looking unsure and a bit lost.

“Yeah, that would be great,” he said in the end, turning back to Alan with a small smile.

“So… you think I’m hot?”

The boy jerked back, elbow smacking into a floor lamp with enough force that it almost toppled over.

“Ugh… Yeah? I mean… have you seen yourself?” he asked almost indignantly.

Alan grinned, finally figuring out the reason for the boy’s disastrous entrance. He fisted a hand into the front of Stiles’ shirt and pulled him, slotting their mouths together.

Stiles was a good kisser, he was earnest and a touch sloppy, but the second he got his bearings and let Alan lick his mouth open it was amazing.

“Holy shit,” he whispered when they broke apart for air a few minutes later. “Holy shit, let me… Is it okay if I…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Alan said, more affected by Stiles than he expected. They lost their shirts quickly, and then Stiles just pounced on him, pushing his back into the couch and covering his body with his own.

Alan didn’t mind. The boy was just a gorgeous outside of his clothes as he was inside them, the way the moles covering his skin shifted when his muscles moved was almost hypnotic. They started kissing again, hands roaming over each other’s bodies  and hips fitting together instinctually.

The sound Stiles made when their erections rubbed together for the first time through the fabric of their pants was something that Alan wanted to bottle just to listen to it again and again when he was alone in his bed.

But he wasn’t alone now, and he made sure he enjoyed every minute. Stiles’ eyes turned glassy above him as Alan moved his hips, arching off the couch to chase the delicious friction and soon they were rutting against each other like horny teenagers.

Alan tried to keep his own eyes open, he wanted to see Stiles’ face when he came, but it was hard with the way they kept slipping shut from the pleasure coursing through his body.

In the end they almost finished together; Stiles’ face turned out to be just as ecstatic when his orgasm washed over him as Alan hoped and the sight of it was enough to push him over the brink too.

Stiles slumped over him, panting into his ear but he didn’t mind. The weight of his body was comforting and warm. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to get out from under it.

And that was how Derek found them, face scrunching up in disgust as soon as his nose was hit by the smell.

“Alan, noooooo…” he moaned, covering his face with his hands just as Laura strolled in behind him.

“Alan, yes!” she cried, pumping her fist into the air before dragging her brother back outside.

Stiles managed to get his elbows under him, looking at Alan with wide, worried eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, are you in trouble?” he asked and the concern in his voice just made the spark of affection in alan’s chest flare brighter.

“No, no I’m not,” he said, palming Stiles’s face gently and smiling when the boy nuzzled into it unconsciously. “But maybe we should take this to my room.”

Stiles grinned.

“Yeah, yeah, we could do that.”