“It had to happen eventually, so here it is! Promote ALS awareness AND extinguish evil at the same time!”
SLYTHERIN APPRECIATION WEEK: one historical Slytherin
Salazar Slytherin was a pure-blood wizard of medieval times. He was a Parselmouth and was skilled at Legilimency. He was one of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Wonderboy, you are perfect.
Winter Widow: The Black Widow and the Winter Soldier are forced to be partners. They do not want each other but they impress each other in the field. Soon they begin working together as partners and develop feelings for each other. Nat goes digging into the Soldier’s past and finds out about his true past and what they’ve done to him and tells him. Their handlers catch them before they can run and the Soldier is frozen again as punishment to them both.
Stiles was thousands of years old, and it was rare for anyone to surprise him. He’d once been revered and worshiped by many, and he still was. Once, it had been as a god, and the only facsimile he’d found he had an aptitude for in 2014 was as an underwear model. He still got to spend his days lounging around barely wearing any clothing, and people jerked off to pictures of him… it was kind of the same thing.
Ok, whatever. But look how Zeus adapted. It wasn’t like Stiles had a reality tv show or multiple wives or anything.
"I’m, like, so sorry I’m late! Should I just take off my pants?" a newcomer asked, fumbling with his belt and half toppling into the pathetic food-services stand. The grapes Stiles requested went everywhere, and he narrowed his eyes. "I had to shave my chest, but it got a little bumpy. Is that normal? Do I have some kind of disease now?" the guy asked, staring down in horror at his nipples. "What do you call it?"
"Stupidity," Stiles muttered, rolling his eyes.
The guy was a disaster with beautiful abs, of course, so Stiles fucked him against the set after everyone left and allowed him to buy Stiles his favourite cheese fries and say they were dating.
The guy’s name was Derek, and he was dim and pleasant to look at, and when Stiles made fun of him, Derek didn’t even wince.
Aphrodite couldn’t even come up with a better match.
Derek was like a puppy, so earnest about pleasing him and so intentionally insulting to people in the general public. He made Stiles laugh.
It wasn’t enough.
So Stiles invited Derek to move in with him. There was something about him that kept Stiles’ interest, and he wasn’t sure what it was.
It certainly wasn’t his brain, and Stiles had seen better abs. Maybe not butt, but definitely better abs.
If, sometimes, the New York Times crossword puzzle was already solved when he got it, Stiles just thought that their neighbour was stealing the paper in the early morning again.
Stiles didn’t really care about the paper, anyway. He had a love affair with the internet, specifically some blogger who loved to raise shit by throwing down truths on an international level and forcing certain people to step in to certain situations. ”He’s a fucking Robin Hood,” he pointed out to Derek.
"Who? That’s a kind of flour, right?" Derek asked, licking at Stiles’ navel.
No, but seriously, Stiles was really old. He loved someone who could shake things up a bit.
"I like you," he murmured, stroking Derek’s hair.
At least until something better came along.
As underwear models they tended to travel internationally in the name of taking off their clothes for people. They also took off their clothes for each other. Stiles didn’t think it that strange that since he’d been partnered with Derek permanently that they tended to go to dangerous locations. The pictures turned out fine. Derek took up waxing. It was all good.
Until the day Stiles found himself stuffed in a closet, bound and gagged. Day turned into days, days of not being fed and shredding his wrists trying to get free. He might not die, but no one would worship him from there, and it was almost the same thing.
Then hands were reaching for him, dragging him out of the cold and cutting the ropes off his body. ”Wha..”
"Shh," Derek advised, grabbing Stiles’ hand and pulling. "We have to be quick."
"How did you know where I was?"
"It was in the computer database," Derek said easily, pulling Stiles into an office. "I need to finish this, do you think you could shut up for a few minutes?"
Stiles opened his mouth to retort, but Derek surprised him by navigating through what looked to be a complicated screen of code, his eyes moving rapidly like he could read what was in front of him. It took a bit longer than a few minutes, but less than twenty, and by the time he was done Stiles was feeling itchy with uncertainty. ”So.. you’re a spy?”
Derek snorted. ”No. I steal secrets that will save lives, I doubt the government cares.”
But you hate people, Stiles wanted to point out, but he knew nothing, apparently.
"It’s not like I’m the only one keeping secrets," Derek said pointedly as they snuck out of the building, not even encountering any security. Derek was frighteningly competent.
"I can help you," Stiles pointed out. "Let me help you."
"You don’t care about what I’m doing," Derek pointed out in return, sliding in and out of shadows and dragging Stiles along behind him.
"No, but I care about you, and that means something coming from me. You’re delightful."
"Are you talking to my cock again?" Derek asked suspiciously.
"Not this time," Stiles answered cheerfully, because aww yes, his boyfriend was perfect. Didn’t see that coming, not in a million years.
"I think we can agree that the new salted caramel mocha adds a certain saline factor we both appreciate," Stiles said, licking his lips as he slid into the seat across from Derek. He could smell the salty presence in Derek’s chemical make-up, from his blood to every cell, and could also tell something was off. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"I don’t think so," Derek answered, giving him a withering expression. "I’d probably taste like dulse to you."
"Excuse you," Stiles answered indignantly. "I offered to buy you a drink, not try to sink my fangs into your femoral artery, though I’m sure that would be an experience we’d both enjoy.."
"Femoral artery," Derek echoed back, eyes wide with surprise.
Stiles harrumphed and stomped away, only to return a few minutes later with a bottle of water. ”Here,” he said, tossing it in front of Derek. ”You’re looking a little dry. You probably would taste like a dulse if you don’t hydrate.”
"Oh. Yeah, I… thanks."
"Whatever, Flounder," Stiles answered, walking away.
"About that femoral artery offer," Derek said the next time they met, sidling up next to Stiles just as he was taking a sip of his coffee.
"Plllfffff," Stiles choked, spraying salted caramel mocha everywhere. "What offer?"
"The one I’m going to take you up on because I think we can both agree that sex with humans is tedious."
"Ok, but I think we need sound ground rules," Stiles agreed.
"No killing me."
"I don’t do that. No flapping me in the face with your fin."
"If I tried that, how would I expect you to fuck me?" Derek asked casually, holding the door open.