Sterek A-Z Challenge: one word prompts
Week 14: N - No
The thud of the bass rattled Stiles’ bones as he approached the sketchy club. He’d taken a cab from his and Derek’s apartment as instructed because Derek hadn’t wanted him wandering around the city so late at night by himself, and Stiles actually agreed. New York was nothing like Beacon Hills.
Sure, there was chaos, murder, and mayhem, but of a completely different nature. The supernatural, Stiles could handle, but human…
His third week in the city, Stiles had been mugged. Derek had been furious with him.
It wasn’t a fair representation of the city. New York was great, and so were the people. The city was surprisingly high on the list of safe major cities as opposed to how it was portrayed in the media and Hollywood, but Stiles had been so used to knowing what goes bump in the night, that he had completely forgotten humans could be just a vicious and cruel as any supposed mythical creature.
So, Stiles now cabbed everywhere he went, usually. Of course, the next time he’d ignored Derek’s mild request to take cabs or wait for Derek to pick him up, Stiles was kidnapped by a grief-stricken, slighted werewolf hell bent on revenge against Laura Hale.
Stiles shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his red straight cut jeans that he wore with one of Derek’s sweaters. Not a club outfit, but Stiles wasn’t at the club to party. He was there to listen to Derek DJ his first gig, or whatever it was called. He bypassed the growing line and walked straight up to the big burly bouncer dude holding a clipboard.
“Sup, dude,” Stiles said. He flashed a grin of false confidence as he rocked forward on the balls of his feet. “I’m on the guest list. Stiles Stilinski.”
The bouncer eyed him and snorted before he consulted the clipboard. “Sure. ID,” he said.
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Stiles fumbled for his wallet, nearly dropping his license when he pulled it out. It was brand new and still glossy. His license had expired a few months ago, and he’d had to renew it in New York. “Here ya go. I’m totally underage. Not trying to sneak in to drink. Just here for the music.”
The bouncer checked his ID, eyes darting between Stiles and his grinning picture, then back down to the guest list. “Sorry, kid. Can’t let you in.”