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Stiles Stilinski screamed at the top of his lungs while running full tilt through the forest, arms flailing and barely missing tripping over roots and fallen branches. Every time he stopped to take a breath before he continued screaming, he could hear the sound of pursuit behind him, and promised to himself that he was going to murder all of his friends for making him be the bait.

Again.

What was with the human always being the bait? He was in perfect shape, thank you very much, and he didn’t think that forcing him to run on a nightly basis was necessary! Did Scott think he was getting fat? Scott totally thought he was getting fat. It was why he kept forcing Stiles to be the bait.

Or maybe Derek thought he was fat. Maybe Derek legitimately thought he was fat, and didn’t know how to tell him without hurting his feelings, so he’d asked Scott to make Stiles the bait for the next few big bads in an attempt to help him lose some of it.

That was awful! If his boyfriend thought he was fat, the least he could do was admit it to him! Stiles would try harder for him! Go to the gym four times a week!

Okay, maybe twice.

Or once.

Twice. A month. Yes, that was reasonable.

And, he’d cut back on curly fries and milkshakes!

Or maybe just milkshakes. He really liked his curly fries.

Stiles broke through the line of trees and let out a shout before skidding to a halt, windmilling his arms to avoid falling over the edge of the cliff. It wasn’t a huge drop, but he would definitely break a few bones and that would make running hard.

Whipping around and slowly backing up towards the cliff edge, the Kappas broke through the trees and began advancing on him. They looked almost cute, all small and imp-like, green from head to toe with sharp little teeth and razor-like claws and a thirst for human flesh and holy shit he was going to die.

“Derek!” Stiles called loudly, taking another step back. “Scotty? Guys, could use some help.”

He heard nothing in response, the Kappas getting closer. His foot reached the edge of the cliff and he glanced down again.

It was a really long way down.

Turning back to the Kappas, who were coming closer, forming a semi-circle so he had nowhere to escape to, Stiles realized his friends really sucked.

“Guys, it was your idea to use the human as bait, so if the human dies, he’s going to come back and haunt you!” Stiles shouted.

A loud boom echoed through the trees and Stiles almost lost his footing and toppled over the side of the cliff. He managed to hold his ground, but a few of the Kappas had fallen over and couldn’t seem to get back up. That was comforting, at least. He only had ten angry little imp demons ready to eat his insides instead of fifteen.

Bright side. Optimism. That was him, Mr. Optimistic about how he was going to die.

He wished he had his bat, especially when the Kappas closed ranks and one of them leapt at him. He tried to swat it away with one hand and his foot slipped.

“Oh shit! Shit!” He tried to windmill his way back up to solid ground but didn’t succeed and promptly slid right off the edge of the cliff. He screamed the entire fall, flailing like an idiot and cursing Derek Hale and Scott McCall to the ends of the earth.

Just when he was sure he was about to go splat—or get impaled on a tree, it was hard to know, really—arms grabbed him under the shoulders and knees and he stopped falling. Actually, he was rising now, and he was pretty sure none of his friends could levitate.

“What the he—holy mother of fucking God!” Stiles shouted, flailing some more.

There was a flying dude. A flying dude. Who was carrying him.

Bridal style.

Actually, that last bit was more insane than the flying part. Flying he could handle. Being a damsel in distress, not so much.

“Who are you? What are you doing? How are you doing? What is going on? Put me down!”

The man holding him let out a small chuckle, but didn’t release him until they were back on the cliff.

Where the Kappas were.

And he did, in fact, try and put Stiles down.

Stiles clung to the man tightly, arms around his neck and legs twisted so he could keep himself raised off the ground.

“Ah, not now, not now! Put me down where there aren’t any Kappas!”

The man laughed once again, and shifted Stiles so he still held him, but in one arm.

Stiles wasn’t sure how to take that, and maybe he wasn’t fat and Scott and Derek were just assholes.

He was about to shout a warning, but the person holding him inhaled deeply, and Stiles’ jaw dropped when he exhaled a stream of cold air, freezing all the Kappas in one fell swoop, along with most of the trees directly behind them.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

Stiles turned to his rescuer, mouth still hanging open, and his jaw only dropped even more at the sight that greeted him.

It was Derek. Well, not exactly Derek, but it might as well have been. It was like a doppelganger. He looked exactly like him, except without the scruff, with combed back hair, and a killer smile. Holy shit, if Derek looked like that when he smiled, Stiles needed to superglue his face muscles into a permanent smile because he looked gorgeous.

“Who are you?” Stiles blurted out instead of the ‘thank you’ he had definitely been going for.

“Superman,” he replied with a smile so dazzling, Stiles wished he had sunglasses.

Sweet baby Jesus, if he weren’t already in love with Derek, he’d be in love with Derek’s doppelganger.

Actually, he might also be in love with his doppelganger.

“Are you going to be okay?” Superman sounded amused, since Stiles was still clinging to him, and the teen bristled.

“You sir,” Stiles informed him, poking at his chest, “are extremely rude, and oh wow, that’s—is that armour, or...?” Stiles had flattened his hand and was now running it unabashedly along the man’s pectorals. “Wow. That’s—do you work out? What gym do you go to? I’ve been thinking of joining a gym.”

“Stiles!”

He turned his head in time to see a body come flying through the frozen trees, Derek wolfed out and roaring loudly before skidding to a halt. Blue eyes were locked on Stiles, chest rising and falling more in panic than exertion while he looked back and forth between Stiles and the guy wearing primary colours and a cape.

A fucking cape. Stiles had never met a real superhero before, this was dope!

“Hey Derek, have you met Superman?” Stiles asked, patting at Superman’s chest before getting distracted and leaving his hand there. “Because I have. Met Superman. I met him. Just now. And seriously,” he turned back to him, “where do you work out? This is like steel, holy crap.”

Stiles realized he was still in the man’s arms, and now molesting him, and his boyfriend was breathing angrily behind him so he should probably stop.

“Yeah, okay, you can let me down now.”

Superman chuckled but lowered Stiles to the ground, having shifted him so he had one arm wrapped around Stiles’ waist to keep him from falling. The second his feet hit the ground, Derek was beside him, wrenching him back and behind him, growling angrily.

“I’m assuming he’s a friendly,” Superman said, speaking to Stiles but pointing and looking at Derek.

“Yes, this is definitely a friendly,” Stiles informed him, motioning Derek. “Who looks almost exactly like you and wow, that’s a fantasy I didn’t know I needed and I will shut up now,” he said, trying not to shrink back at the intensity of Derek’s glare.

“Your friend is an interesting character,” Superman told Derek with a kind smile.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Derek bit out around his fangs. “Who are you?”

“Superman. I come from, well,” he turned in a slow circle, looking around. “Well, not here, that’s for sure. I mean, I’m an alien, so obviou—”

“You’re an alien?!” Stiles demanded, almost climbing over Derek’s back to get past him since Derek wouldn’t let him close the distance.

Superman laughed, and Stiles noticed it made Derek scowl even more. He wanted to reach out and rub at the frown lines on his forehead.

“Yes, I’m an alien. I come from a planet called Krypton. But when I said I wasn’t from around here, I meant this world specifically.” He looked around again, hands on his hips, and Stiles had no problem staring because wow that spandex left little to the imagination and he wished the cape wasn’t there to cover his butt. He felt like spandex would show off a really nice butt extremely well.

“My cousin should’ve come through with me. We’re from another Earth.” He paused and seemed to be trying to find the right words. “A parallel Earth, I should say. You’ve never heard of Superman? Supergirl? The Flash?”

“No, but those all sound amazing,” Stiles blurted. “Here we only have True Alpha, Sourwolf and the Token Human.” He motioned himself. “That’s me, by the way. Token Human.”

Superman laughed again and Stiles heard Derek growling. “Well, Token Human,” he said, looking up at the sky and spinning around a little, “it looks like I’m gonna be here until my ride shows up.” He turned to offer Stiles a winning smile that had him wanting to drop trou and bend over right there. He felt like Derek probably sensed that because the growling got louder and Derek wrapped a protective arm around Stiles’ waist, holding him almost painfully right up against his side, angling Stiles away from Superman.

“Do you have any more demon imps for me to freeze?” Superman asked jovially.

“No,” Derek snapped.

“Maybe,” Stiles amended, which earned him a scowl he pointedly ignored.

Scott chose that moment to burst through the trees, almost tripping over his own feet when his shoe got caught on a frozen tree branch. He cursed, then looked up, and for a second he didn’t seem to realize there were two Dereks.

“Oh good, you found Stiles. Man those little buggers are quick.” Scott came to stand beside Stiles and punched him lightly in the arm. “Told you you’d be fine. You can outrun anyone.”

“Actually, Superman saved me.”

“Superwho?” Scott asked, and followed Stiles’ finger when he pointed at him.

The man in question offered another winning smile and waved.

“Holy shit, Derek’s face muscles work,” Scott blurted out, which earned him a hard whap from Derek. He turned to stare at him, then looked back and forth between the two men, pointing at each of them in turn.

“Great,” he said after a moment. “Two of him. Just what we needed.”

“I’m pretty okay with this deal,” Stiles informed him, and Derek pinched his side rather painfully. He was probably going to bruise. He was a fragile human, thank you very much Derek!

“We should leave before anyone sees us,” Derek said, speaking to Stiles and Scott and pointedly ignoring Superman.

“Mind if I tag along until my cousin shows up?”

“Yes.”

“Nope!”

Derek glared at Stiles, who just grinned back impishly and wiggled free, moving up to Superman and grabbing his arm to drag him towards the Jeep and hello, that bicep felt extremely strong beneath his fingers.

“We can’t drag a superhero through town,” Derek snapped, crossing his arms and scowling. “He’s too obvious.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem.”

Stiles frowned at Superman, feeling him almost vibrate beneath his hand, and then suddenly Superman was gone. The spandex he had been such a huge fan of disappeared like it had never been there, and instead he was staring at a nerdy version of Derek. He was wearing dark jeans and a plaid shirt, along with glasses and a necktie. A fucking necktie.

Scott made a weird sound in the back of his throat, and Stiles shot a look at him. His friend was staring right back, looking ready to explode with laughter, his face was so red.

Before Stiles could say it, Scott beat him to it.

“Nerd Derek!” Scott blurted out, and then he and Stiles burst out laughing.

Superman flushed and awkwardly rearranged his glasses, but Derek looked like he was trying to decide who to murder first between Stiles and Scott.

Stiles was winning, probably because he was still holding Superman’s arm.

“Oh, that’s cute. Why did you change out like that?”

“This is my alter ego. Clark Kent.”

“Wait, people actually can’t tell the difference?” Stiles asked. Superman shrugged, smiling slightly, and Stiles just stared at him. “Wow, your Earth is full of idiots.”

When Superman laughed again, Stiles felt all warm and fuzzy inside and wanted to rub his face against the man’s pectorals, but he doubted his fuming boyfriend would appreciate that so he refrained and just started laughing to himself at how nerdy he looked.

“Okay, Nerd Derek,” Stiles said, trying to force back his chuckles. “Let’s get you into town.”

“While I’m not opposed to the clever nickname, you can call me Clark. I figure my secret identity is safe in a world with no Superman.”

Derek muttered something—probably rude—under his breath, and Superman, or Clark, turned to him sharply.

“I’ll be gone soon enough, I’m just waiting on my cousin. Like I said.”

Derek looked startled, and even Scott seemed uncomfortable, looking between Derek and Clark. It occurred to Stiles that he’d heard Derek, which meant not only could he fly and apparently change clothes in a second, but he could also hear as well as a Werewolf. He wondered what would happen if the two of them got into a fight, then decided he’d prefer not to know. He liked Derek in one piece, and somehow, he felt like Clark would win any fight they started.

“Let’s go,” Derek spat, turning on his heel and stomping back into the forest.

Scott and Stiles shared a look, the latter shrugging, and then he released Clark’s arm so he could follow his grumpy boyfriend. Scott and Clark took up the rear behind him and he sped up a bit to catch up to Derek.

“So what brings you to our, er, parallel universe?” Scott asked, moving silently behind him.

Stiles realized Clark was just as silent, and he never heard Derek even though he was definitely stomping. The only person who sounded like a heard of elephants in the forest was him.

Terrific.

Clark began talking about some weird inter-dimensional being who’d murdered some people on what he called “Earth One” and he, his cousin, and a few other superheroes were attempting to find it. They were all meant to stick together, but he guessed that their friend who opened the portals—some guy named Vibe—had accidentally split him off into this world.

Stiles had a million and one questions about this entire superhero thing he was talking about, and normally he would be asking them all, but Derek was being mopey so he was trying to catch up with him to turn that frown upside down.

Well, not upside down, really, because Derek rarely smiled, but Stiles would take what he could get.

When they exited the woods and were heading for the cars, Derek sped up and unlocked the Camaro, climbing in without a word and kicking up dirt when he spun the tires and cranked the wheel around. He got onto the road before Stiles had even made it two steps towards his Jeep and drove away without a backwards glance.

“I think I might have done something to offend him,” Clark said uncertainly.

“Pretty sure it was Stiles who offended him.”

Stiles punched Scott, but only hurt himself. He shook his hand out and climbed behind the wheel of the Jeep, Scott getting in beside him and Clark climbing into the back.

They drove slowly into town and he and Scott began pointing things out for Clark, explaining the basics of Beacon Hills and informing him of all the weirdness that went down. They told him about Werewolves, since Clark had seen Derek wolfed out in the woods, and when Stiles had asked why he wasn’t more surprised, he’d just laughed and reminded him that he was an alien and his best friend dressed up like a bat.

Stiles was positive there was a fun story behind that, but he didn’t press. He just dropped Scott and Clark off at Scott’s house. When Clark climbed out and shut the door, he paused when he saw that Stiles wasn’t following.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“Nah, I need to go find my grumpy wolf and reassure him that his dick’s the only one I want.” The smile on Stiles’ face slid right off and he wanted to die right then and there. “Can you pretend you didn’t hear that?”

“Hear what?” Clark asked, but Stiles could tell he was embarrassed. Scott was pretending to gag at the door, like a child.

Stile ignored him.

Waving at them both, he backed out of the drive and turned the Jeep around so he could head towards the loft.

And if Derek wasn’t there, well, it wasn’t like Stiles couldn’t entertain himself while he waited for him.


Derek clenched his hands angrily around the wheel, struggling to keep the wolf at bay but it was proving difficult. His gums ached with the need to let his fangs drop, and he had to consciously hold his claws back when they threatened to push through.

How was he supposed to compete with that?! With someone who had his face and body, but smiled more and was charming and witty and fucking adorable?! He’d seen the look on Stiles’ face every time his clone smiled, and it made him want to tear his face off.

Did this Clark person know how long and hard Derek had worked to win Stiles over? It hadn’t been easy!

And if he was honest, Stiles had kind of done most of the work since Derek was so socially inept that his idea of showing affection was slamming Stiles repeatedly into hard surfaces. Only in a violent way and not a sexy way.

They were finally in a good place, where he felt like their relationship was solid and had a good foundation and he wasn’t terrified that Stiles was going to go off and find someone less grumpy. And then, in comes fucking Superman.

Seriously, conceited much? That name was just a giant flashing sign of the guy’s insanely large ego, and Derek was disgusted. Who named themselves Superman?!

He was glad when he turned into the lot for the loft, because any longer in the car and he was liable to break it. He slammed the door hard enough when he exited to shatter the driver’s side window, but he didn’t worry about it for now. He needed to calm down before he went back to beat that stupid idiot’s perfect teeth in.

And the worst part of this was that Derek felt like he was jealous of himself! The guy had his face! But Stiles seemed to like his smiling and his wit and his big, strong arms. Derek’s arms were strong! He could fucking lift Stiles, too, and he was really pissed that Stiles seemed to be forgetting that!

Entering the loft, he yanked the sliding door so hard to shut it that it broke off the slider and fell to the ground. Derek lacked the energy to fix it, and nobody else lived there anyway, so it wasn’t like he had anything to be worried about. The only idiots who’d wander in would be Scott, Stiles, or Scott’s little Betas, but most of them were scared of him so really, it was just Scott or Stiles. Lydia had already told him she wouldn’t set foot in his loft until he cleaned it so he kept it purposefully dirty.

Stiles didn’t seem to mind, and that was the only person who mattered, anyway.

And now Derek was pissed off again and picturing Stiles and Clark fooling around in bed. He didn’t think Stiles would do that, but he hated how starry-eyed he’d looked whenever Clark had smiled. Derek smiled occasionally, he just didn’t feel the need to rearrange his face muscles to do it! Clark definitely did something weird with his face to get his grin that big.

Derek began pacing in the loft, trying to keep his thoughts away from dangerous things, but now he was just imagining Stiles beneath Clark, moaning his name and making those sounds that drove Derek fucking crazy and no one else was supposed to hear those sounds, dammit!

He stumbled a step when he heard a boom behind him and whipped around. There was a portal open in his fucking living room, and before he could throw something through it to knock out whatever new idiot with his face was coming through it, a girl leapt out, sweeping her blond hair out of her face and looking around.

She was wearing almost the exact same outfit as Clark had been when he’d shown up, except she had a red skirt instead of the blue spandex. That Stiles had definitely been appreciating a little too much.

“Clark, thank God,” she said, moving forward. “Cisco wasn’t sure we could find you again. We caught the Leaper, come on.”

Derek stepped away from her when she reached for him and growled low in his throat. If she couldn’t even fucking tell him apart from who he assumed was her own cousin, then there was no guarantee Clark wouldn’t drop the goody-two-shoes act and pretend to be Derek so he could fuck Stiles.

“Oh,” she said, giving him a once-over, taking in the motorcycle boots, jeans, leather jacket and stubble. “Not Clark. Um, sorry?”

“Are you an alien, too?” he asked rudely, crossing his arms and scowling.

She gave him a weird look, and he thought for a second maybe Clark had been fucking with them, but when she spoke, he realized it wasn’t that.

“Wow, I didn’t even know Clark could make that face.”

“Probably because we’re two completely different people,” Derek snapped, his temper flaring. His eyes flashed and he could feel his fangs and claws coming out, but he couldn’t control them. Jealousy was almost foreign to him, he didn’t feel it very often, but having Clark around was making him more jealous than he knew how to handle, and he wanted him gone!

“Whoa,” the girl—Derek assumed her name was just as conceited, so probably Supergirl—put both hands up and took a step back. “I don’t want any trouble, and I don’t want to fight you. I’m just here for my cousin.”

Derek growled low in his throat, trying to calm down, and when Supergirl took a step closer to him, he heard a shout and found a body slamming into him. He didn’t budge, which suggested the body wasn’t strong enough to fight a Werewolf, and glanced down to see Stiles standing in front of him, back pressed against Derek’s chest while flailing his arms haphazardly. Derek was surprised he hadn’t lost an eye yet.

“Whoa, whoa! Whoa!” He held out both hands, as if warding her off. “Whoa! No! No attacking of the Werewolf!”

“I didn’t attack him,” she insisted defensively, motioning Derek, “he was going to attack me!”

“What? No. What?” Stiles scoffed. “Lies. Lies and deceit!”

Supergirl gave him a look, then focussed her gaze on Derek. He just scowled at her, Stiles having turned so he was facing him now and rubbing at his chest. It was soothing, and he knew Stiles was doing it on purpose because Derek liked the feeling. He had to work really hard not to picture Stiles doing the same thing to Clark earlier.

“You okay, big guy?”

“What are you doing here?” Derek grunted, looking away and struggling to keep his expression neutral. “Why aren’t you with my doppelganger?”

“Because, grumpypants.” Stiles reached around him to smack his butt and grinned at the scowl it earned him. “Why would I want an alien when I have a perfectly good Sourwolf right here?”

Derek kept glaring at him and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Did you really think I was going to jump into bed with him the first chance I got? Give me some credit, jeez.”

Stiles shook his head and turned away slightly, pulling his phone from his pocket and hitting a button. Derek listened to it ring, then heard Scott answer on the other end.

“Hey, I think Clark’s ride is here. Blond girl wearing the same spandex. Wanna bring the boy scout down before Derek decides to murder him for staying too long?”

When Scott responded in the affirmative, Stiles nodded and hung up. He turned to grin at Supergirl, but she just crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow, then looked around the room, clearly unimpressed with her surroundings.

Good, it meant she’d leave faster. Derek hoped that portal behind her stayed open long enough for him to kick Clark through it.

He and Stiles both started when there was a soft thump on the balcony, and he turned to see Scott leaning over the railing, retching. Clark walked into the loft, back in his red and blue outfit, and smiled at Supergirl.

“Glad you found me, Supergirl.”

Derek had been right, and somehow that just annoyed him further.

“Found two of you, apparently.” She nodded towards Derek, hands on her hips exactly like Superman. Derek thought they were cousins, not fucking twins.

“All right, he’s here, can you go now?” Derek snapped, Scott groaning while making his way into the loft and muttering that he was never flying again.

“You’re a little prickly, aren’t you?” Supergirl asked, giving him a look. “Sorry that our presence inconvenienced you so much.”

“He’s just mad I saved his boyfriend before he could,” Superman whispered, though not quietly enough since Derek could tell Stiles had heard him.

Derek clenched his hands into fists, but Stiles leaned back into him and it made him relax a little bit. He just wanted Superman gone, with his perfect hair, and sparkly teeth, and bright smile. Seriously, he was going to kick him through the portal.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear,” Superman insisted. “I just thought you might like him alive instead of, you know, a pancake.”

When Derek went to take a threatening step forward, Stiles turned to shove his shoulder against his chest in an attempt to hold him back.

“Let it go, big guy. He’s being honest, not facetious.”

Superman looked genuinely confused by Derek’s anger, but Supergirl just hit him lightly in the arm and motioned behind them at the portal before walking through it. Superman turned back to the three of them and smiled.

“It was nice meeting you. Thank you for letting me visit with you for a little while. Maybe I’ll see you again in the future.”

“The far distant future,” Derek said.

Superman just smiled, waved once, and then turned to walk back through the portal. It stayed open for a few seconds longer, and then seemed to close in on itself with a weird slurping noise. Then, the loft was silent.

Until Stiles spoke, of course.

“Think you’d be into buying some spandex?”

Derek grabbed Stiles around the waist and threw him over his shoulder, heading for the bed.

“Scott, get out.”

“Way ahead of you,” Scott called from the stairwell. “Don’t break him!”

Stiles let out a shout when he was tossed onto the bed, bouncing once before Derek laid himself over him and captured his lips in a bruising kiss. He could feel Stiles smiling against his mouth, two arms coming up to wind around his neck, long, slender fingers burying in his hair.

“Jealousy looks terrible on you,” Stiles muttered against his lips, but he was still grinning.

“You did it on purpose,” Derek accused.

“Like I said,” Stiles kissed him once more, then rubbed his cheek against Derek’s stubble, scenting himself, “why would I want an alien when I have a perfectly good Werewolf right here? Besides, I’m sure you’re better in bed. Want to drive the point home?”

Derek wasn’t sure he could honour Scott’s request, because if he had anything to say about it, Stiles wasn’t going to be able to walk for hours.

“Come here, Superwolf.”

Days. Definitely days.

END.