
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3754828.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Allison_Argent/Scott_McCall, OMC/OFC, Cora
      Hale/Isaac_Lahey, Vernon_Boyd/Erica_Reyes
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Allison_Argent, Scott_McCall, Isaac_Lahey,
      Laura_Hale, Vernon_Boyd, Erica_Reyes, Kira_Yukimura, Talia_Hale, The
      Hales, Kenna-_OFC, Deucalion_(Teen_Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Werewolves_Are_Known, Full_Shift_Werewolves, Humans
      vs._Werewolves, Werewolves_Are_Superior_Race, Human_Trafficking, human
      slaves, Auctions, Soul_Bond, Soulmates, Falling_In_Love, Anal_Sex, Oral
      Sex, Rimming, Riding, Hand_Jobs, Anal_Fingering, Top_Stiles_Stilinski,
      Bottom_Derek_Hale, Older_Derek_Hale, Age_Difference, Alternate_Universe,
      Non-Graphic_Violence, Shower_Sex, Scenting
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-04-16 Chapters: 12/12 Words: 142960
****** Going Once, Twice, and Sold! ******
by fangirlsupreme
Summary
     In a universe where werewolves are the superior race and humans are
     on the run to avoid being sold as slaves, Stiles Stilinski doesn't
     exactly have an easy life. After being captured and brought to an
     auction house, he figures all that's left is for him to go out in a
     blaze of sharp wit and aggressive sarcasm. What he didn't count on
     was Derek Hale being the one to buy him. No, he most certainly didn't
     count on the two of them falling in love with each other.
Notes
     So this was something that was in my folder forever. I had written it
     ages ago with a partner and unfortunately we fell out of contact, so
     there's no real ending but I wanted to post it anyway. I wrote for
     Stiles and they wrote for Derek. I hope you guys like it!
***** Chapter 1 *****
Stiles spat on the bottom of his cage, trying to rid his mouth of the metallic
taste of blood. There were upwards of twenty other cages exactly like his own.
The auction house hadn’t opened yet, but they were minutes away from lifting
the curtains and revealing the “merchandise”. Ever since werewolves emerged as
the superior race, humans had been forced into obscurity, being sold off as
pets to the high classes of werewolves. Stiles had been doing recon for his
camp when he'd gotten caught, having just enough time to send out an emergency
signal so everyone else could get away before being captured. Naturally, he
hadn’t taken it very well. He began mouthing off immediately, fighting wherever
he could and basically raising hell. The werewolves who had snatched him didn’t
take kindly to that. They’d beat him until he couldn’t move without wincing,
blood and bruises covering his body. He’d been changed into the typical auction
house garb, but it was obvious to see that Stiles was damaged. Metal cuffs cut
into his wrists, small trickles of blood sliding down his arms. Unlike the
others, who Stiles had seen where free to wander their cages with their
restraints on, Stiles had been secured to the roof of his own enclosure. It was
just slightly taller than him, causing him to hang a bit instead of standing,
strung up like a piece of meat on display, his toes just brushing the floor. He
could feel himself getting lightheaded, but he refused to appear weak. He
wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. One by one, Stiles heard the whoosh of
curtains as the others before him were revealed and bid on, all of them being
sold. All too soon, the curtain in front of Stiles was ripped away. He squinted
into the sudden onslaught of light, his eyes slowly adjusting. "Well, this one
still has plenty of life in him," the auctioneer joked with the crowd who
laughed. Stiles glared at all of them, pulled hard against the restraints that
held him. "Come a little closer and you'll see just how much life I have in
me," Stiles snarled. The auctioneer raised his eyebrows. "And a mouth on him
too," he said, "Taking that into account along with the fact that he was
injured in transport, why don't we start low with $5,000 as the starting bid?"
Stiles continued to struggle, a bitter smile coming onto his face. " 'Injured
in transport' my ass," he called out from his spot in the cage, "Maybe if I'd
gotten run over by a fucking car." The auctioneer ignored him, addressing the
crowd once more. "He's a spirited one, but imagine how great it would feel to
break him in,” he insisted, trying to entice the crowd into bidding. “Say
another word and I’ll break your face!” Stiles yelled, pulling at his
restraints towards where the auctioneer stood. Swallowing nervously, the
auctioneer smiled out into the crowd. “A mere $5,000 for this fireball,” he
tried, “It’s really a steal. As an added bonus, I’ll let you in on a secret:
He’s a virgin.” Finally an indicator went up in the back. “Yes! We have a bid
of $5,000 to the gentleman,” he called out, “Do I have $5,500?” Stiles ignored
them now, focusing instead on trying to pull himself free.
Derek hated this whole thing. He hated what his kind was doing to humans. It
was appalling and wrong. But his family was well respected and as the next in
line to take over the family architecture business - Laura had declared she
wanted to be a free artist and wouldn't take over - he had to hold up his
family name. His mother and father had had humans working in the house since he
was an infant. He had been cared for by a human nanny and had food made by
their human housekeeper. Unlike other werewolf families, the Hales were never
cruel to the humans in their employment. And it was employment. They had large
expansive grounds and each human got his or her own space in the house,
thresholds barred from werewolf entry without their permission so they could
feel safe. They were given days off and paid a small fee each week that they
could use as they pleased. Laura had dragged him along to the auction and Derek
was convinced that he wouldn't buy anyone, but Laura insisted, showing him the
catalogue and picking out pros and cons. Then Derek saw him - he was thin and
gangly malnourished, but Derek felt that he would have been strong and supple
given the proper care. He was feisty and disobedient and refused to bow down.
Derek liked him. So when Deucalion bid on him - who was known for going through
humans like potato chips, one being maimed or even killed at least once a month
- Derek spoke up firmly. "Ten thousand," he bid despite his sister's
disapproving hiss. He ignored her.
Against his will, Stiles' head shot up when he heard someone call out ten
thousand. Ten thousand dollars? For him? Honestly, he was pretty bewildered. He
had figured his behavior would scare away most buyers, seeing as everyone
preferred their humans soft and submissive. Stiles definitely did not fit that
description. The auctioneer, on the other hand, lit up with glee. He hadn't
expected to get so much out of this one. "We have a bid of ten thousand
dollars!" he called out excitedly, "Do I hear $10,500?" He looked back towards
the original bidder expectantly. It seemed he was having some sort of
conference with whoever had come with him. He moved to raise his indicator, but
his companion held his arm down, glancing towards the new bidder and whispering
in the man's ear again. With a sigh, the original bidder withdrew. "Alright,"
the auctioneer called, "We have ten thousand going once, twice, and sold to the
gentleman. Please proceed to the collection area to pay and claim your item." A
small boy, probably around fourteen went up to the man with a small card that
had Stiles' number and his basic information, like hair color, eye color,
weight and height. Stiles was not happy. He had figured he wouldn't be sold at
all. He pulled hard at the restraints, rattling them, cutting into his skin but
he didn't care. The sheet was thrown back over him and he was rolled away,
taken to the back to be prepared. The back of his cage was open and his
shackles taken off. Though he knew it was useless, Stiles made a run for it. He
was tackled in less than two seconds. His hands were secured in front of him in
tight cuffs that were welded together. A thick leather collar was placed around
his neck, a chain leading from it like a leash. Stiles pulled and thrashed
against his restraints, nearly choking himself in the process and definitely
causing some bruising. He had to be dragged to the collection room, the bottoms
of his bare feet cut up by his refusal to walk. Still, he was no match for the
werewolves and soon he was standing in the plain room, awaiting his 'owner'.
Derek took the card with a muttered thanks to the young boy who flashed a wide
smile before disappearing again. Laura glared at him and made Derek wait until
she had bid and won the girl she'd had an eye on to be a nanny for her daughter
while Laura was working. They headed off to the collection room together and
Derek handed over his card to the man behind the counter. The boy he'd bought -
Czesław Stilinski according to the card - was brought forward towards him
looking worse for wear and Derek's eyes flashed crimson red at the betas
holding the boy. "Release him," he demanded firmly. "The shackles, the collar.
There is no need. He's a person not an animal." The workers looked perplexed
and Laura just groaned heavily where she was signing off the paperwork. The
werewolf behind the counter bristled but they were all betas and did as Derek
asked, removing the leather collar and metal shackles from his hands and feet.
Derek looked the boy - Man, he corrected mentally - in the eye seriously. "Run
and I will catch you," he warned before turning to the desk to pay his fee and
sign the registration paperwork that said Derek took full ownership - god he
hated that - and responsibility for the actions of the human. When they were
done he turned to Laura who was smiling at a shy girl in front of her, no older
than fifteen. No wonder Laura wanted her, Laura had always been very vocal
about how much she despised the fact that humans could be sold as young as
fourteen, females as young as twelve. It drove her mad and she'd practically
snatched up all of them that appeared at auction. Laura voiced that she was
ready and Derek turned to Czesław. "Come on. We can pick up food on the way
home," he said, aiming for friendly but knowing he probably missed by a mile.
He'd never been good with people, werewolf or human it didn't matter. His
social skills left a lot to be desired. He'd rather be left alone to sketch or
mess with his computer.
Stiles was admittedly surprised when the werewolf who had bought him not only
demanded that he be released, claiming that he was a person, but was an alpha
as well. He’d never heard of a werewolf treating a human like that, let alone
an alpha. Most of them seemed to think the humans were little better than
commonplace pets. He rubbed his wrists gingerly, being careful not to agitate
the cuts that were already there from all his struggling. Despite the kindness,
Stiles would not let his guard down. He couldn’t afford to. He knew for a fact
that he was going to try to run, even if there was nowhere to go, even if it
was a sure thing that he would be caught. Stiles didn’t care. He wasn’t going
to take this sitting down. He eyed the woman that had come in with him. She had
purchased someone as well, someone much less vocal, much less bruised. Stiles
was thankful that the werewolves at least didn’t seem like complete monsters,
and he hoped this girl would be okay. He didn’t hold much hope for himself. Not
with the way he planned on acting. He barely held back a scoff at the man’s
mention of picking up food. “Yeah, you gonna stop at the edge of the highway
and go pick up a rabbit for us?” Stiles bit out scathingly as he began to
follow the two werewolves and the girl out of the room, “Maybe a deer if you’re
feeling generous.” He hissed quietly when he took the first step, hoping that
none of them had heard. He had torn up his feet worse than he thought. Running
on the asphalt was going to be a bitch, but that wasn’t going to stop Stiles
from doing it. He saw the girl turn around and give him a panicked look, like
she was afraid that his bad behavior would result in her being punished as
well. Stiles ignored her and stayed alert, waiting for an exit that he could
use to cross his path.
"Don't be silly," Laura told Czesław easily, not turning to look at him as they
headed out. She had a gentle hand on the girl's back as she led the way outside
and finally shot Czesław a sly little smirk. "It's not deer season yet. That's
for Christmas," she said with a sarcastic little smirk as a sleek black car -
obviously worth a pretty penny - pulled up to the curb. "Well, this is us,
Aylee. After you, please," she said to the young girl with honey blonde hair.
The girl shot Czesław a small shocked look, almost begging him to tell her what
was going on and why she was being treated so kindly when they had only ever
been promised pain. She got into the car though and Laura turned to Derek,
kissing his cheek. "Be good, Derek. Family dinner on Friday night, don't
forget," she told him before looking at Czesław. "If he misbehaves just smack
him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. Our parents never quite properly
trained him." She winked playfully before waving again and sliding into the
car. Derek only sighed heavily and promised to be at dinner before waving them
off. "Pay no mind to her. That's my sister, Laura. She's...different," he said
before turning to face his new...person. He didn't want to say slave. That
would be wrong. Czesław was a person not a thing. He furrowed his brows when he
saw the way Czesław held himself, his wrists and the way he stood. "Are you in
pain?" he asked, finally registering the scent of blood for what it was -
Czesław's and not the general stench of the auction house that Derek so
despised.
Stiles’ mouth dropped open in a soundless laugh, disbelief clear on his face.
In all honesty, he could definitely say that he liked Laura. She was witty and
sarcastic, not unlike Stiles himself. His heart dropped when he saw the look
that the young girl gave him, and he tried to offer her a reassuring smile
before she disappeared into the car. It was then that it hit him that they were
outside. He had been so caught off guard by Laura’s willingness to banter with
him, that he had gotten completely distracted enough to forget to run. His body
tensed and he was seconds away from launching into a sprint when he heard the
man, Derek, speak. Stiles couldn’t hold back a snort. “’Am I in pain?’” he
repeated mockingly, “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m in pain.
Getting beaten tends to do that.” Admittedly, he was only bleeding in two major
spots, his wrists and his feet, and those were self-inflicted wounds, but
still. Everything else from the past few days had faded to a dull ache that he
was more or less completely used to. Stiles looked Derek over. He was a pretty
big man, clearly built, and he was an alpha. Stiles had no chance. He knew that
his opportunities to escape would get fewer and farther in between the longer
he waited, but he was nothing if not a strategist. All running would accomplish
would be to give Stiles more injuries and piss Derek off. If Stiles waited
until he healed, that would give him time to plan and gather supplies. Judging
by how Derek had acted thus far, Stiles wasn’t going somewhere overly terrible.
He made the decision to wait, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be
stubborn.
Derek frowned at Czesław’s derisive snort but he was right of course; someone
with a mouth like Czesław wouldn't be tolerated well by the sellers. Of course
he had been mistreated and Derek didn't blame him at all for assuming the same
might be inflicted by Derek. So carefully he offered his hand palm up to show
Czesław he meant no harm and raised his brows. "May I?" He asked politely, not
wanting to touch Czesław against his will though he knew many others who
wouldn't hesitate to grab at him. Though none would have quite the same ends in
mind as Derek did. In the laws written by werewolves, humans had almost no
rights. The only rules in place to protect them were that their owners, without
proof that they’d made a first move, couldn’t kill them. Of course in their
society it was easy to take a werewolf's word over a human’s and so many human
murders went unpunished. Derek didn't know what he'd been thinking when he
bought this man, only that he wished not to see him harmed. There was something
about him. And even if it took months or years, Derek would get the man to
trust him somehow. Someway. Derek wasn't naive enough to think that they could
be friends; partially because Derek didn't have many friends and those he
acquired had been accidental, but mostly because he could tell that Stiles
pretty much despised Derek's kind, as he should. Derek hated his kind too
sometimes. Perhaps- but no, Derek couldn't think that way. Not yet. So he just
looked at Czesław calmly and wondered if he might allow Derek the simple touch
that would ease his pain. He wondered if Czesław even knew werewolves were just
as capable of absorbing pain as they were of inflicting it.
Stiles stared at Derek’s hand as though it would catch fire at any second,
though he was surprised that he bothered to ask. The information that humans
had on werewolves was extremely limited. Most people simply knew that they had
risen quickly to power and were faster, stronger, and were equipped with fangs
and claws. There was nowhere to find anything else. Not if you were normal. Of
course, when has Stiles ever been considered normal. He had managed to scrounge
up little tidbits. He knew that wolfsbane was highly toxic to them in all its
forms. He knew that they could shift whenever they felt like, though certain
things did cause them to have less control. He knew that alphas went through a
full transformation that changed their bone structure and not just their faces.
He knew that when a pack mate was in danger or pain, they could relieve them of
it, though he didn’t know how. He had paid handsomely for all these facts, but
he never thought it wasn’t worth it. Knowledge was power. “No, you may not,”
Stiles answered bluntly. He had no idea what Derek wanted to do, and without
knowing he wouldn’t let it happen. Besides, he didn’t want to appear weak.
Stiles could take care of himself without any help from a werewolf. “If you
were serious about feeding me, I suggest you get on with it before I chew my
own foot off,” Stiles said, simply as a way to change the subject and maybe get
things moving. As much as he didn’t want to go with Derek, he wanted to stay
here even less.
Derek frowned but nodded as he curled his fingers in towards his palm into a
loose fist before letting it drop to his side. "As you wish. I was going to
offer to relieve some of your pain but if you'd rather endure it, I respect
your decision," he said courteously, a little more formal than the situation
strictly called for but he wasn't sure what the situation did call for so he
was at a loss. All the humans his family had ever employed were happy to be
there with them, and cared about Derek and his family as if they were all
family. It felt like it sometimes and Derek forgot how awful the world really
was. He inclined his head gently and held out a hand in indication this time.
"Of course. What kind of food do you like?" he asked, leading the way to a beat
up old Chevy truck, red in color but a bit rusted in places. It had clearly
seen better days. "There's Chinese or Mexican though the Mexican food around
here is crap. You have to go as far as San Diego if you want to get good food
unless you know how to make it. We can take it to go if that's alright with you
and I'll help you get settled in. Kenna can look at your wrists and feet if you
wish. She's good with that sort of thing." He unlocked the doors of the car and
opened the passenger door for Czesław before rounding to his own side to get
in. He started the car and then looked over to his...companion. "How do you
pronounce your name? Chess-law? That's probably not right is it?"
Stiles could see the blatant disappointment on Derek’s face and he didn’t
really know how to feel about that. He did, however, bristle at what sounded
like a dig at Stiles’ ability to endure pain. Of course, it could have been
nothing, but when was it ever nothing with werewolves. He made a face at Derek
as soon as he turned around. It was childish and stupid, but it made Stiles
feel better, so he didn’t care. Again, he found himself surprised by Derek’s
kindness, offering to let Stiles make the decision as to where they ate. He
couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten real food that wasn’t found in
the forest or stolen from a nearby farm. “If you can get me to a joint where I
can get a bag of curly fries to go, then we’re good,” Stiles said honestly, not
really expecting Derek to take him seriously. He climbed into the car gingerly,
still aching all over, idly wondering who Kenna was when he suddenly caught up
with what Derek was saying. His name. Stiles’ eyes went dark, his face going
stormy. Without thinking of the consequences, Stiles was leaning over the
center console, getting in Derek’s face threateningly. “Only two people in the
world use that name and those were my parents,” he nearly growled, “If you use
it again, I swear I will find some way to kill you.” Stiles’ parents had named
him after Stiles’ mother’s father. He remembered being teased about it by other
kids his age, so he came up with a nickname for himself, but Stiles’ mother
would still call him Czesław. It became their little secret, the little family
of three. It reminded Stiles of happier times, times before his mother had been
killed and his father turned hard. He sat back down in his seat, slumping down,
angrily crossing his arms across his chest. “If you need to call me something,
call me Stiles,” he muttered. He had no idea when the auction house even got
his real name out of him, and he had no clue that they told the buyers.
Derek's first instinct when Czesław was abruptly in his face was to attack but
he only got as far as letting his eyes flash a dangerous red before he got a
hold of himself and looked away out the other window. He took a deep steadying
breath. It had only been a year that he'd been an alpha; he was never meant to
be one. Laura was going to be alpha and Derek her beta, but a rogue alpha had
put an end to that plan when Derek was forced to kill him and his blue eyes
turned red. Laura did what she could to teach him and so did his parents but it
was still difficult. He turned back to Cze- to Stiles and gave him an
apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware," he apologized genuinely and
ducked his head slightly. "Stiles it is then. As for the curly fries, there's a
diner along the way that makes the best hamburgers and curly fries if you're
interested. My father used to take me there after school sometimes as a kid."
He started the engine and waited until Stiles' seatbelt was on before taking
off. Derek relaxed visibly the further and further they got from the auction
house until he could finally breathe easier. Bad memories were tied to that
place and Derek had no care to be there unless he was forced. For a moment he
couldn't help but let her face enter his mind's eye. Long dark hair and
chocolate eyes and a small freckle beneath her eye and pink cheeks. He missed
her terribly and guilt took hold just briefly until he pushed it all away and
buried it up.
Stiles stared stubbornly out the window, not willing to believe that anything
Derek was saying was sincere. It was just his anger and sadness blinding him,
and Stiles knew that, but he really didn’t care. He didn’t want to hear about
Derek’s favorite diner or his family or his childhood. He didn’t want to hear
about anything that made Derek even remotely human. Derek was a werewolf. Derek
was his owner, a monster, and Stiles had to hate him. If Stiles didn’t hate
him, it would make things incredibly difficult in the future. He bounced his
leg slightly despite the pain, drumming his fingers on his thigh. It was silent
in the car for a good while, neither of them choosing to speak. Somewhere in
the back of his mind where he was being rational, Stiles knew that Derek hadn’t
used his name on purpose. It had just been so long since he heard it said
innocently, without fear or panic or anger. It brought him memories that he did
not care to share with a werewolf. Stiles managed to remain silent for a half
hour before his ADHD finally got the best of him. “So why did you want your
very own human?” Stiles huffed, managing to sound derogatory and curious at the
same time. He knew what humans were often used for, but it was clear that Derek
and his family was different. Derek’s treatment of Stiles despite how rude and
disobedient he had been showed that rather clearly. With any other werewolf,
Stiles would probably be unconscious by now from the beating.
"I didn't," Derek answered automatically with a roll of his eyes and he was
being honest. He hadn't wanted to buy anyone. He had one person at home who had
chosen to leave with him from his childhood house to his new house a bit away
from his family. They had been friends as children and Derek enjoyed being
around Kenna and vice versa. She helped around the house sure, helped with the
laundry and made sure Derek ate when he went into one of his work induced
trances where he'd hardly leave his office for days as inspiration struck and
all he wanted to do was sketch until he had the blueprints perfected. They were
friends and cohabitants but they'd never been more than that. Kenna's heart
belonged to another who remained at his parents at their home and when time
came, Derek thought of offering the bite - the only way to free a human of
their servitude in the eyes of the law - but Kenna chose to stay with Derek so
he let her, enjoyed her friendship. "My sister," he explained with gritted
teeth, "thought I needed to make an appearance, uphold our good family name
since I'll be taking over the business next month. I hate auction houses and
the sale of humans. Of anyone. They treat you like animals and it's
disgusting." The steering wheel creaked under the strain of Derek's grip and he
made a conscious effort to let go, taking a deep breath. "There was something
about you. You're different than the others, smart; you’re your own person. You
don't take shit and I admired that. You deserve more than the beatings you
would get if Deucalion had won you. He's an awful person and no one should go
into his service. I'd like to render his head from his shoulders but
unfortunately that would be...looked down upon." He rolled his eyes again and
pulled into the parking lot of a little fifties style diner with a mint green
and pale pink paint job.
Stiles was taken aback by Derek’s answer. It was definitely not what he had
expected to hear. Every werewolf wanted a human, whether to use as labor or for
other unsavory purposes. If Derek didn’t want him in the first place, then what
was Stiles going to be used for? The fact that he had no idea what to expect
worried Stiles. Every werewolf was supposed to be the same except this one
apparently. It got him wondering as to who exactly Derek was, especially the
comment about his family name. Humans weren’t very tapped into the politics and
current events of the werewolves, not since they had been forced out of polite
society. After that, there was no need to keep up, just to stay alive. Derek
must be someone important though, or his family must be if he was willing to go
to the auction house, despite how much he apparently hated it. The threat
towards the other bidder, Deucalion, was also unexpected. Stiles couldn’t be
sure, but it sounded as though there might be some kind of history going on
there. He stored that away for later use and looked up at the diner that they
had just pulled into the parking lot for. “You want me to go in there looking
like this?” Stiles asked Derek incredulously, eyebrows raised. He was still
wearing the thin clothing provided by the auction house, just a simple grey top
and bottom, but it was clear where he had just been. His wounds had stopped
bleeding for the most part, but it was still clear that he was recently injured
and his skin was still mottled with bruises from the days before, ranging from
a healing yellow to a dark purple. He knew that werewolves sometimes had humans
that traveled with them to continue to service them throughout the day, but it
was blatantly clear that Stiles was not one of those humans, nor would he ever
let himself be.
Derek could smell the shock coming off of Stiles with his words and then the
anxiety, the worry. He guessed it was from the uncertainty; not knowing what
Derek would want him for if he didn't want him for sex or manual labor. And
really Derek wanted him for neither of those things. Just companionship maybe.
Stiles could spend his days as he liked as long as he didn't run or get into
trouble; Derek had yard space if he wanted to garden or could acquire any art
supplies or books Stiles wanted. He just wanted to show Stiles that life wasn't
as bad as he thought. Why he'd chosen Stiles specifically was beyond Derek but
he couldn't decide on a reason just yet so he put it out of his head. Derek
frowned when Stiles brought up the subject of his appearance because while it
wasn't uncommon for werewolves to keep their humans in plain ugly clothing like
the rags the auction house puts them in Derek wouldn't subject Stiles to that.
It was humiliating, he knew. He glanced over his shoulder to the back seat and
found the over night bag he kept with him just in case, for the nights he
crashed at his parents or one of his siblings. The clothes there were clean and
Derek reached for the bag, setting it on the console before opening his door.
"Take what you want. There's clothes and shoes. I can- I can help with the
bruises if you'd allow me to, the pain. But I understand if you would prefer I
didn't touch you."
Stiles considered not taking the bag and being a stubborn little shit, but he
was getting cold and there were probably heavier clothes in the bag. His mind
briefly wandered to something he had heard about scenting, but he didn’t dwell
on it. Scenting was something werewolves did with their packs, not with random
humans that they picked up at auction houses for no particular purpose. That
still bothered Stiles. Knowledge was power and this is one situation where he
did not have the proper knowledge. After staring out the front windshield
stubbornly for a few minutes, Stiles finally sighed and tugged the bag into his
lap. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to wear shoes, not with the way his
feet were. He still didn’t want to ask Derek to relieve the pain. He didn’t
want to seem weak or like he needed to werewolf for anything. He pulled out a
dark red long sleeve shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Derek was larger than him
and jeans wouldn’t work out. At least with the sweatpants he could tie them
tighter. Stiles had no qualms about undressing in front of others, having had
to do it for most of his life. He stripped off his shirt, revealing his
severely bruised torso for all of two seconds before he pulled the other shirt
on. The pants took a little more wiggling, but eventually he was out of the
auction house bottoms and into Derek’s sweatpants. He tied them tightly so they
wouldn’t fall. After a quick glance at his feet, Stiles reached back in and
found a black pair of socks. He hissed in pain when he pulled them on and knew
for sure that he wouldn’t be able to get shoes on. “Alright, I’m good. Let’s
go,” Stiles said, flicking the lock on the door and opening his side of the
car.
Derek waited patiently for Stiles outside of the car, keeping his back to it to
give him some privacy. When he heard the door open and his locks click, he
offered Stiles a small rare smile that softened his features and hesitated
before offering his hand again. They were out of sight of the windows, hidden
between two cars off to the side. "Please, may I help? I don't want you to be
hurting when I could do something for it," he asked gently, wanting to phrase
the question more like it would be for his own well being instead of Stiles'.
He thought he might have a better chance of getting him to agree that way. "I
won't- I wouldn't think any less of you. I already know you're strong. Stronger
probably than most people I know. I just want to help. Besides," he added with
a quirk of his lips hesitantly. "I should at least introduce myself properly
and shaking hands is polite, right?"
Stiles stared at Derek's hand, eyebrows raised. "I'm a teenager. Polite isn't
in my vocabulary," he said with a huff. Still, Derek stood there, hand
outstretched, with this weird, soft, hopeful look on his face. Stiles didn't
want to admit that it was getting to him, but it was kind of getting to him. He
stood there, arms crossed over his chest for a good two minutes before he let
out a long suffering sigh, as if this was the most inconvenient thing to ever
happen to him. He took Derek's hand roughly. "Hi, I'm Stiles Stilinski," he
said in an exaggeratedly cheery voice, "I have ADHD and I love making new
friends." He knew that he was being an asshole, but he couldn't help it.
Sarcasm was his only defense and he completely planned on using it until his
dying breath. Werewolves had claws. Stiles had words. Not exactly on the same
level, but Stiles' mouth had gotten him out of trouble just about as many times
as it had gotten him into trouble in the first place. Stiles' stomach chose
then to growl loudly, reminding him that he hadn't been fed properly in a few
days. A piece of bread here, a sliver of meat there. Not enough for a growing
teenage boy.
Derek waited, just hoping that Stiles might give in though he supposed that
giving in didn't really seem like it was in Stiles' nature. Derek was about to
relent and take his hand back before Stiles finally placed his hand in Derek's
roughly. Derek could hear the sarcasm clearly and he dared anyone not to but he
didn't comment. It was a defense mechanism he was sure. As soon as Stiles' hand
touched his, Derek curled his fingers around his palm softly and his veins
rolled black under his skin, on display where his crisp white button down was
rolled up over his forearms. "My name is Derek Hale. Twenty-three, loner,
loser, complicated wreck. My sisters say I have social problems but I'd just
rather be alone than play nice with a race I loathe entirely aside from my few
friends and ridiculous family but that I just happen to have been born into."
Taking away Stiles' pain was easy but Derek went a step further, tapping into
his fountain of alpha power and healing away the dark bruising that Derek could
only imagine how much it must ache. It wasn't painful for Derek, merely
unpleasant like his blood had been replaced by tar and sand and gravel, running
through his veins and absorbing into his fast healing body. At least Derek was
good for this much. He liked lessening his pain. It was maybe the only thing he
liked about being a werewolf.
Stiles stared at Derek, only belatedly realizing that he was doing so. He
hadn’t expected the werewolf to give out so much personal information in one
shot. Derek seemed to like doing things that Stiles wasn’t expecting. He
thought about returning the favor and telling Derek a few more things about
him, but he decided against it. If Derek knew his first name, then he already
knew plenty, or the basics at least. Stiles suddenly noticed the distinct lack
of pain on his person and looked down to see the black that had just started
fading away from Derek’s veins as he finished. This was more than just a lack
of pain. Stiles ripped his hand away and yanked the front of his shirt up. All
his bruises were gone. He could still feel that his feet were torn up, but he
couldn’t feel the pain that was supposed to go with it. Stiles pulled his shirt
back down and stared at Derek like he was a puzzle that Stiles just couldn’t
figure out. “Let’s get some food,” he finally mumbled, waiting for Derek to
lead the way into the diner. Stiles may be a fighter, but he wasn’t stupid.
Walking into that diner without Derek taking him in would be asking for death.
Derek watched Stiles watch him and then let Stiles rip his hand away, examining
his skin where the dark bruises were supposed to be but were now left mostly
unblemished. It had zapped a bit of Derek's energy to do it but he was glad he
had. He wanted to show Stiles that he really didn't mean him any harm at all.
He just wanted to help. When Stiles said they should get some food Derek
relented and walked close beside Stiles as they headed quietly for the door.
When they opened it the smell of delicious food engulfed them but then a
derisive laugh echoed up and Derek tensed.
"Well, well, Derek," Deucalion said in his stupid accent Derek hated as he
stood from a table and approached him and Stiles. "I do see you seem to have
stolen away one of the dogs I wanted." His sneer was haughty and angry and
Derek put himself between Deucalion and Stiles.
"If you lay a finger on him I'll make sure your head is completely freed of
your body," he growled dangerously as ocean eyes bled scarlet. He felt three
presences appear behind Stiles and knew that his pack had shown up just in
time.
"Relax, Derek. I won't take him from you. I'm sure you'll have lots of fun with
that tight virgin ass of his. Be sure to let me know how sweet he is. Maybe
you'll let me have a go when you're through with him," Deucalion taunted and
Derek's claws came out.
"No one is touching him. Not you or I or any of my betas. He is a person and he
gets to choose who touches him, if anyone," Derek snarled just as Frank
appeared and Derek relaxed.
"Get out of my diner, Duke. You know you're not allowed in here," the man
growled, eyes flashing blue and not as impressive but Deucalion growled lowly.
"Fine," he snapped and smiled sickly sweet at Stiles. "If you ever want to know
what it's like to be with a real man, look me up," he purred and Derek snapped
his teeth but a hand curling into his bicep stopped him from going any further
as Deucalion and his friends disappeared out the doors with their Styrofoam
cups.
Stiles would deny until he dying breath that he had been scared, but anyone
listening to his heart would have been able to tell immediately. That had to be
the man that had made the first bid for him. Stiles had to say, he was more
than a little bit grateful that it was Derek wound up getting him. If he had to
choose someone to own him between Derek and Deucalion, he would choose Derek in
a heartbeat. Stiles felt slimy even just having the guy talk to him.
“I’ve got your favorite table open,” the man who had intervened said, speaking
to Derek. Stiles followed wordlessly, still honestly a little bit shaken. He
often forgets that he really his just words. He could threaten and yell all he
wanted, but at the end of the day, Stiles had very little means to accomplish
his ends. Two menus were placed in front of them and Stiles immediately grabbed
his, staring at it with way too much concentration. When he felt like Derek
wouldn’t be looking, he peeked over the top of his menu at the werewolf. The
vicious protectiveness towards Stiles that Derek had just displayed had caught
him completely by surprise. Sure, he had caught on that Derek was nice and all
that, but he had just threatened to kill a guy in front of a diner full of
people and that was before Deucalion had really even said anything. Stiles knew
he should say thank you. It was common courtesy, especially since he never
thanked Derek for healing his wounds. He tried to work himself up to it, but he
just couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Instead, Stiles looked back down
at the menu.
“What are you gonna order?” he heard himself ask Derek. It had been a long time
since he had had any of these foods. He could remember the ghosts of what they
tasted like, but not the real things. He knew he would probably end up with a
burger and some kind of curly fries, but Stiles found himself wanting to know
what Derek liked to eat.
Derek was still practically shaking and there was still a warm hand on his arm.
He took several deep breaths and his eyes faded back to normal, claws
retracting to human bluntness along with his canines. He turned back to see
Boyd, Isaac, and Erica looking at him with concern, Erica's hand the one
gripping his arm. He gave them a reassuring nod before following Frank to the
table away from his betas who hovered a moment before disappearing out the
door. He let a hand hesitate at Stiles' back protectively but didn't touch him
without his permission, allowing him to sit first before taking his own seat.
He glared at the menu and took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself
down. He could hear Stiles' heart racing with fear in his chest and it made
Derek want to take him and leave. "I don't know," he answered honestly when
Stiles asked what he was getting. He could hardly read the words on the menu
and had to press's the heels of his palms into his eyes for a long few seconds.
"Probably a bacon cheese burger. Would you like to get this to go? We don't
have to stay," he asked, looking up at Stiles with some obvious concern in his
expression. None of the others in the diner were even daring to look over or
whisper about Derek's human for fear of him turning his wrath on them and Derek
was glad for it. He didn't know why he was so protective; he'd do the same for
Kenna but he'd known her since they were infants when she was born to one of
their human housekeepers and Derek's parents let her be raised there with Derek
and his siblings.
Stiles could feel an immense amount of tension in the restaurant. No one was
looking at them, but no one was speaking either. It was strange and Stiles
didn’t like it. He wanted to know whom those random people were that came in
behind Derek. He hadn’t seen them before and he had no idea where they had even
come from. It was easy to see that Derek was still incredibly stressed but
Stiles couldn’t pinpoint the cause. He had just barely felt Derek’s hand
hovering behind him when they were walking, but he never actually touched
Stiles. The things that Stiles didn’t know or was unsure of were piling up and
he didn’t like it. “Yeah,” he finally said with a small nod, “Two of those,
some curly fries, and some drinks to go sounds like that would be a great
idea.” He could feel his tongue itching in his mouth to speak and he knew that
he was about to start rambling any second. “Yup so that’s what we should do,”
he said again, “Not that this wouldn’t be a nice place to sit and eat and all,
but it feels a little weird don’t you think? Definitely weird. Yup. So, if
you’ve got all that is it cool if I wait by the car. I think I’m gonna wait by
the car, it’s getting a little stuffy in here. Can you feel it or is it just
me? Don’t forget the curly fries.” Stiles was out of the restaurant like a
shot, not waiting for Derek to respond. He pushed open the door, walking
quickly towards the car. He could feel his heartbeat racing and his breath
quickening and he knew what the beginnings of a panic attack felt like. He’d
had enough of them to know. He wasn’t sure what had set this one off, but
sometimes it was nothing and they just happened. Stiles found himself crouching
down on the asphalt next to the car, head between his knees as he tried to calm
down.
Derek could hear Stiles' heart race and all he could do was widen his eyes as
Stiles babbled and then took off. He thought of going after him, worried that
he might bolt. But Stiles paused at the car so Derek let it go, waving the
waitress over. He ordered their burgers and fries and sodas, soup and salad for
Kenna because that was her favorite and she'd be mad at Derek if he didn't
bring her food, and then waited.
Outside, Boyd, Erica, and Isaac hadn't been far just in case and Erica hopped
out of the car when she saw Stiles collapse by the truck. She told the boys to
wait so they wouldn't all scare him and approached Stiles, kneeling next to him
but not touching. "Hi, you must be Stiles. I'm Erica," she told him gently,
kneeling closely but being careful not to touch. "It's okay, you're gonna be
fine. Derek won't let anything happen to you okay? Just take a deep breath with
me. Can you do that? I used to be human too. It's okay. I won't hurt you. Just
take a breath with me okay? If you don't breathe you might pass out and then
Derek will panic over you the rest of the day. C'mon." She waited until he
looked at her and took a deep inhale and then exhaled slowly, trying to coax
Stiles into matching it, to calm him down. She knew what it was like not to
have control over her own body, to be sold into a werewolf's care and be scared
out of her mind. Luckily it had been Laura who'd bought her and then Derek
who'd offered the bite, taking Erica in and protecting her, teaching her.
Stiles looked at the girl who had come seemingly from nowhere, though if he was
thinking logically he would be able to guess that she had probably come from
one of the other cars in the lot. If he was thinking, he would recognize her
from the trio inside, though he had only glanced at them briefly. He knew that
this girl, Erica, was right. He could already feel himself getting lightheaded
from his rapid breathing, but not knowing the cause of his panic attack made it
a lot harder to calm down. He stared at Erica almost desperately, trying as
hard as he could to mimic her breathing, but he just couldn’t do it. He shook
his head, trying to signal to her that it wasn’t working. He gripped at his
head desperately. His vision was starting to tunnel; all he could hear was the
blood rushing past his ears. It was like everything that he couldn’t worry
about before was suddenly piling onto him, everything that he couldn’t show his
father he was scared of, everything that he tried to hide was just pouring
itself into this one panic attack. His hands were trembling and he could feel
tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He hated this. This made him weak.
It made him vulnerable. That was the last thing he remembered thinking before
his body finally just cut out and he went unconscious. His brain needed oxygen
and it decided that it would get more if Stiles wasn’t awake.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Derek should've been keeping an ear out for Stiles' heartbeat but it wasn't
familiar enough yet for him to try to pick up. So he waited inside for their
food, leaning against the counter with an annoyed scowl on his face.
Outside Erica was panicking because Stiles had collapsed onto the asphalt. Boyd
and Isaac piled out of the car and Erica maneuvered herself to sit behind
Stiles so he was leaning back against her chest. She rubbed his back and
shoulders and arms and Boyd and Isaac placed hands on either arm, absorbing the
rest of the pain Derek hadn't. Together they managed to heal the cuts on
Stiles' wrists at least most of the way so that all that were left were long
mostly healed scabs but they both had to pull back, breathing heavily. That was
how Derek found them.
"What the hell happened?" he growled as his eyes flashed red.
"It wasn't us, he was having a panic attack," Erica explained with obvious
worry in her voice and Derek growled softly but knew it was the truth.
"Help me get him to the truck. We need to get him home," he said, unlocking the
car. He lifted Stiles gently from Erica's arms and she scrambled around the car
to open the door, letting Derek set him in and then helping to buckle him up.
"Meet me at the house alright?" The three betas nodded and stood off to the
side as Derek pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the road, speeding
towards his house. Stiles was still out as Derek drove through the massive
wrought iron gates laced in wolfsbane and mountain ash to keep unwanted
werewolves out. Derek got out of the car as Boyd's large SUV pulled in behind
him and he picked Stiles out of the car tenderly, carrying him into the house.
The doors flew open and Kenna rushed out, grabbing things from Derek's car and
following them all inside where Derek lay Stiles down on the large soft couch.
Kenna threw a blanket over him and tucked it around and Derek ordered the betas
into the kitchen to give Stiles space. He hesitated and then looked to Kenna
who had questions in her brown eyes.
"He had a panic attack after Deucalion saw us at the diner. Just… stay with him
until he wakes up? I think he would be more comfortable waking to another human
instead of one of us," Derek told her and she nodded, giving him a quick hug
which he returned. "And look at his feet too okay? They were pretty torn up."
"Okay," she nodded quietly and smiled gently before going to get her first aid
kit and then sitting down on the floor by the couch, waiting for Stiles to
wake. Derek hesitated before going out of the living room and into the kitchen.
The betas were all tense but Erica was biting at her thumbnail nervously while
Derek put the kettle on.
"Calm down, the lot of you," he grumbled huffily as he sat down at the kitchen
table. "He'll be fine. It was a panic attack."
Being unconscious was a lot less like sleeping than Stiles would like. It was
more like drowning. The darkness was surrounding you, dragging you down,
further and further from the light of consciousness. Stiles fought against it,
struggling to wake up. When the body put itself under, it took a little more to
wake up, at least in Stiles’ experience. He was vaguely becoming more and more
lucid, and the more awake he became the more he realized that he had no idea
where he was. Without warning, Stiles jerked awake, his heart racing his eyes
wide.
“Dad,” Stiles breathed, shooting up into a sitting position. He realized
quickly that he was in a living room of some kind. There was a woman by his
side with kind eyes and a soft smile. There was something that was undeniably
human about her and it made Stiles feel a little calmer. Still, he was a bit on
edge, not liking that he was somewhere unfamiliar. He didn’t know where the
exits were, he didn’t know the layout of the place, and it made him nervous.
“I’m sorry, but your father isn’t here,” she said quietly, offering Stiles a
drink of water. Stiles accepted it, taking a small sip before handing it back.
He knew himself and he was often nauseous after panic attacks and he didn’t
want to puke all over himself. He was already embarrassed enough for having a
panic attack in front of people he didn’t know, especially werewolves.
“Where am I?” he asked, looking around the opulent room. Someone with a lot of
money had clearly lavishly furnished it. He remembered the auction house and
Derek and the diner, but nothing after that. It was logical to assume that this
was Derek’s house, but Stiles felt more comfortable asking just in case.
“Derek’s house,” the woman answered kindly, moving down to what it seemed she
had been doing previously, which was tending to Stiles’ feet. He hissed at the
feeling of the antiseptic.
“Who are you?” Stiles asked soon after, “And where is he?” Despite how Derek
behaved, Stiles wasn’t entirely comfortable not knowing where the werewolf was.
“My name is Kenna,” she said with a smile, continuing to bandage up Stiles’
feet.
"He's awake," Erica announced, snapping up to her feet but Derek gave her a
look and shook his head so she sank back down to her seat.
"I know he's awake. Give him some space though. He's just come from the auction
house and he's not a fan of werewolves. I don't expect him to be. Just let him
get his bearings and then we'll take him some hot tea okay?" he told her and
she nodded reluctantly, eyes trained on the door to the living room.
Kenna smiled apologetically at Stiles when he winced and lifted his foot over a
large bowl, scooping cold water over them to rinse them off before gently
putting on a cool herbal salve that would soothe the heat the gashes caused,
sap the pain away, and help it heal. She was silent as she took long strips of
white cloth and bound his foot in a poultice, tucking in the end and tying it
firmly at Stiles' ankle. As she moved on to rinsing the other and applying the
salve she peered up at Stiles.
"Derek got you from the auction house?" she asked quietly, licking her lips and
then looking back at what she was doing, wrapping up the second foot. "I was
born into it. My mother was the wet nurse for all of the Hale children and they
kept her on even after they'd grown. Derek was my best friend growing up. He's
a good person, you know. He didn't ask to be a werewolf he was just born that
way." She bit on her bottom lip and tied up the last of the cloth before
looking up at Stiles earnestly. "How does that feel? I can go get Derek if you
want. He's in the kitchen with Boyd, Erica, and Isaac. Then we could show you
to your rooms if you want. You'll like it here, I think. I do."
Derek listened to the quiet conversation in the living room and stood,
motioning the boys to stay and Erica to come with him since she seemed so
worried. He waited at the kitchen door though to see if Stiles would even want
to see them. He didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
Stiles looked down at his mummified feet, already able to feel the healing.
Kenna was extremely kind, but he was suddenly a little unsure about her. She
had grown up with Derek; she had been born into this kind of a life. Stiles had
been born into a life of running and survival and fighting. They were two
completely different kind of humans in this new world.
“Yeah, he bought me,” Stiles said, still a little bitter about it. Okay, he was
a lot bitter about it. He didn’t like the idea that Derek had papers somewhere
that claimed ownership over him. “Thank you for wrapping up my feet,” he said,
offering her a small smile, not wanting her to think that he was angry with
her. He suddenly looked up somewhere behind Kenna and saw Derek and Erica
standing in the doorway. His face took on a strange expression. He was unsure
how to act around them now. They had seen him in a moment of extreme weakness
and he didn’t like it.
“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Stiles suddenly blurted out, the only thing he
could think to say. He pushed the blanket off him and stood up, only swaying a
little bit. Kenna caught his arm gently and held it until she was sure that
Stiles could stand on his own.
“The bathroom is past the kitchen on the left,” Kenna said helpfully, pointing
towards the doorway where Derek and Erica stood. Great. Stiles gave a nod of
thanks and walked gingerly towards the door, not wanting to dislodge Kenna’s
hard work. He looked up at Derek briefly as he skirted between the two
werewolves. Their eyes locked for a moment before Stiles tore his gaze away. He
continued down the hallway, passing the kitchen where he saw two more
werewolves, guys, standing there. He scurried past them and went into the
bathroom, locking the door behind him. He took a few deep breaths before he
went on and took care of business. He stayed there a little longer than he had
to, but eventually he left the bathroom. He went back towards where he had left
Derek, Kenna, and Erica and stood in the hallway a few feet away from the
werewolves.
“So,” he said slowly, “Last thing I remember was something about waiting by the
car for my curly fries?” He didn’t smile but his face wasn’t entirely
unfriendly either.
Derek pulled Erica out of the way when Stiles needed to go past and she looked
like she wanted to say something but Derek gave her a look that kept her mouth
closed firmly. Boyd and Isaac both stayed still as Stiles moved past, not
wanting to spook him. Nothing was said as Stiles went into the bathroom and
Kenna moved to Derek's side when he mouthed a thank you to her. She squeezed
his arm and tucked long brown hair behind her ear, waiting. When Stiles came
back out and mentioned food Derek nodded his head and gave a small smile.
"Of course. Before we eat, I'd like to introduce you properly. This is Erica
Reyes and her fiancé Boyd and that's Isaac Lahey," he said, motioning to each
in turn.
"I'm engaged to his sister," Isaac piped up proudly and Derek rolled his eyes
fondly. Isaac liked to tell anyone and everyone that he was marrying Cora,
extremely proud of the fact.
"They were just leaving," Derek told him, not wanting them to stay longer than
would make Stiles comfortable. He was already pretty uncomfortable it would
seem.
"Umm, if you ever want to talk, Stiles, you can talk to me. I know what you
must be going through and I know it's traumatic but you'll be okay," Erica
spoke up gently before reaching for Boyd's hand and Isaac's arm. "You can get
my number from Derek, okay? If you ever need anything." With that she gave a
smile and then pulled the boys away. Boyd was nodding at Stiles and Isaac gave
a sheepish smile as they were tugged out of the house.
"You can eat with Kenna and I if you like or I can show you to your rooms and
you can eat there if you want to have some time to yourself," Derek told him
when the others were gone, moving to the bag of food that Kenna had brought in
for him from the car.
Stiles nodded at each of the werewolves in turn as Derek introduced them,
memorizing their faces. They were Derek’s pack and if Derek was weirdly nice,
than Stiles could only assume that they would as well, especially if they were
like Erica. Stiles had never met a werewolf that had been human originally, but
he wasn’t sure if he would take her up on her offer to talk. He made sure to
watch them when they left; secretly wanting to know which direction an exit was
in. He could feel Derek’s eyes on him, and turned to face the werewolf and
Kenna.
“I can eat with you guys,” he said with a small shrug, “The kitchen is closer.”
Despite the healing, his feet ached a bit and he didn’t really want to walk on
them. He also didn’t want to ask for any more of that weird werewolf pain
sucking. He knew from his wrists that they had done it again while he was out
and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It was a bit awkward to say the
least. Stiles walked back towards the kitchen, not waiting for Derek and Kenna
to follow, but he knew that they would. The kitchen was huge and modern. Stiles
felt an immediate urge to cook in it as soon as he entered.
“This is a really nice place you have,” Stiles said quietly, still looking
around. He may not have lived in a house before, but Stiles knew when one was
nicer than average. He was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Derek had
money, especially since he had said something about his family having a good
name. He picked a chair at random and sat down, just to get off his feet. It
felt better as soon as they didn’t have to support his entire body. Maybe
refusing to walk hadn’t been his best plan, but Stiles was naturally obstinate.
"Okay," Derek agreed when Stiles said he would eat with them. He let Stiles
lead the way back to the kitchen and he and Kenna followed him. Kenna pushed a
chair closer to Stiles once he was seated and smiled.
"You should put them up so it'll heal quicker," she told him kindly as she went
to go sit across from him, Derek beside her.
"Kenna is studying nursing with a minor in herbal medicine," Derek informed
Stiles as he pulled food out of the bag and put a burger and curly fries in
front of Stiles. "I hope you like Dr. Pepper, I wasn't sure if you'd rather
have that or Pepsi so I just got all of them Dr. Pepper but there are other
sodas in the fridge if you'd rather." Kenna took her Caesar salad and tomato
soup with a happy sigh and reached for the plastic utensils on the table.
"I take online classes and I've got a tutor who comes twice a week," she shared
with a bright smile, opening the cup of soup and taking a bite. "How old are
you, Stiles?" Derek sat quietly, interested but not wanting to push. He thought
Stiles would be more comfortable talking to Kenna who was also human. He was
fairly certain Stiles hated him and he understood that. But he would rather
Stiles hate him here where he was safe instead of somewhere else where
Deucalion would strip him of his body autonomy and force Stiles into harsh
manual and sexual labor. The thought made him want to snarl but he kept himself
in control so he wouldn't startle Stiles.
“To be honest, I don’t really remember what any of those taste like,” Stiles
said frankly, “But I’m sure that any of those are gonna be fine.” He picked a
cup at random and took a sip. It tasted pretty good, though the carbonation was
a little unsettling. He’d only had water for as long as he could remember. He
unwrapped his food and dug in immediately, more hungry than he could remember
being in a long time, especially since food was right in front of him.
Stiles couldn’t help but smile at Kenna, happy that she was getting an
education in something that she seemed to enjoy. It wasn’t often that you heard
about something like that happening. It gave him some hope for his future here.
He nearly froze when he realized what he just thought. A future? Here? What
happened to running away at the first chance he got? The fact that he had
seemingly forgotten about that scared the shit out of him. He tried to wipe the
look of horror that he knew was on his face away. He took a huge bite of his
food and tried to focus on that.
“I’m sixteen,” he said, suddenly remembering that Kenna had asked him a
question, “We’ve been on the run for as long as I could remember.” He knew that
at some point, his family had been relatively normal in a small house and
everything, but he couldn’t remember any of that.
Derek frowned sadly at Stiles when he said he didn't remember what they tasted
like and watched him with soft eyes as he drank and ate ravenously. He
swallowed thickly and looked down at his food, suddenly feeling rather ill.
He'd grown up never wanting for a thing, healing quickly so he barely hurt,
never for long at least, and eating when he was hungry, sleeping when he was
tired. And there Stiles was, having been starved and neglected and abused. To
top it off he was only sixteen and Derek closed his eyes, taking a moment to
gain his composure.
"I'm nineteen. Derek is twenty three," Kenna supplied, having not looked over
at Derek since Stiles spoke. "Have you finished high school yet? You could if
you wanted to. Derek could get you a tutor and set you up with online classes
too if you wanted to like he does for me. We could totally study together and
stuff." She was beaming widely and nudged Derek who finally looked up. He
nodded and gave a small smile as well before unwrapping his food.
"Of course. Whatever you'd like, Stiles. We'll go over how things work around
here after lunch and you can get settled in your rooms," Derek agreed, taking a
bite of his burger which was like cardboard in his mouth but he wasn't going to
waste food when Stiles and so many others were being neglected of it. He
couldn't take that for granted or waste it. Not now and not ever.
Stiles was a little surprised by just how much older Derek was than the two of
them. Four years older than Kenna and seven years older than himself. Despite
that, it didn’t really seem like Derek was the type to flaunt his superior age,
but Stiles supposed they would have to wait and see.
“Gee, I don’t know,” Stiles said with a bit of a chuckle at Kenna’s question,
“I’ve been a self-educator for a pretty long time. Something tells me I
wouldn’t get along with someone trying to teach me, but I’ll think about it.”
He tacked on the last part more for Kenna’s sake than for Derek. He couldn’t
really tell what the older man wanted from him, especially with that strange
look on his face, but Stiles elected to ignore it. He wouldn’t be staying
anyway, something he tried to remind himself of firmly. He would be gone in two
weeks tops, definitely not enough time to warrant a tutor or anything like
that.
He gave a nod at Derek when he spoke, not really able to think of a proper
response. It unnerved him that Derek was so out of the realm of what he knew
and he couldn’t really get a read on the werewolf. Part of him wanted to laugh
when Derek said he could ‘get settled’. What did he have to get settled? Any
possessions that Stiles had had been left behind when he’d been taken. Not that
he had all that much to begin with, but still, he had nothing now.
Kenna chuckled good-naturedly and Derek offered a tentative smile, taking a
bite of his burger and looking away again. He chewed and swallowed, taking a
long gulp of his soda before glancing at Stiles again. "You wouldn't have to
have a tutor if you don't want one but if you'd like to take online courses and
work at your own pace, I could help you set it up. There are a lot of options
out there if you'd like to continue or further your education," he said, biting
the inside of his cheek and going back to eating. Kenna reached out to pat at
Derek's shoulder with some pride and approval since he seemed to actually be
making an effort here towards their new housemate.
When they were all finished eating, Derek stood and gathered up all of their
trash, motioning Kenna to sit down when she tried to help. She pouted at him
but allowed it and Derek pushed his half full container of curly fries towards
Stiles when he still seemed hungry. The rest of the paper wrappings and dirty
napkins and empty ketchup packets were bundled up and put into the trash
compactor though and then Derek sat down again.
"Basically, living here is easy," Derek started without preamble. "You really
don't have any chores and there aren't many rules. Just make sure to clean up
after yourself so things don't get piled up. We take turns doing most stuff.
Rinsing dishes and loading the washer, unloading the washer to put clean dishes
away, laundry, and dinner. Kenna and I can sit down later to redo the chart so
we know whose days are when."
"We get a hundred dollars a week to do with as we like also," Kenna added
happily and Derek nodded his agreement easily. "I can help you set up a bank
account online if you want so Derek can just deposit it directly and then
you'll get a debit card in the mail so you can buy stuff online."
"If you ever want to go into town just let me know. I'd prefer if you didn't go
alone just for safety purposes. If I can't accompany you then one of my pack
will. You've already met Boyd, Erica, and Isaac. There's also Scott and Kira.
Scott was bitten by a rogue alpha just a couple of months ago and joined my
pack after I saved him from the alpha that bit him. As far as I could tell he
was a human on the run before he was attacked and turned. Then there's Kira who
is a kitsune. Basically like a werewolf but instead she can shift into a fox.
You can go out with any of them or any of my family so long as you're not
alone. My family and pack are of the very few who treat humans as people and
not objects. There are laws in place to keep other werewolves from messing with
you but then you have people like Deucalion who have people inside the law to
pay off who keep them out of trouble," Derek explained with a little scowl at
the end. He took a deep breath though and watched as Kenna reached out to touch
Stiles' arm tentatively, squeezing it with a small smile. "I'll keep you safe,
Stiles. I promise. If you need anything please let me know. We can go into town
tomorrow if your feet are feeling better and we'll get you some proper clothes
and shoes, anything you need."
"Do you want to see your rooms now?" Kenna asked excitedly and Derek rolled his
eyes with a sigh. "We can go shop for paint and stuff tomorrow too if you want
to paint. I'll show you my room. I love painting in my free time. Someday I
want to travel the world and help heal people and then spend my evenings
painting everything I've seen. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
Stiles was starting to get a headache from the amount of information he was
receiving. It was insanely overwhelming. He was getting loads of signals from
both Derek and Kenna, and it all seemed to point to this being a pretty nice
place and Derek being a pretty nice guy. He had given Stiles the rest of his
curly fries, and though he probably didn’t know it, sharing food was pretty big
where Stiles came from. Though a large number of humans liked to form groups to
move together in, even within those groups it was pretty cutthroat. Numbers
offered protection, but besides that it was pretty much every man for himself.
Stiles and his father had each other, but without each other they had no one.
The money thing nearly had Stiles choking on his food and keeling over right
then and there. One hundred dollars a week? Stiles had never even heard of a
job that paid that well, let alone one that paid well enough to just hand out
one thousand dollars a month to a couple of humans. Derek had to be insanely
loaded, even more so than Stiles had originally thought. With those kind of
resources, along with a debit card and access to the Internet, Stiles had no
doubt that he could have everything he needed within a month, if not sooner.
The thought made him feel a little guilty. They both seemed so happy to have
him here, especially Kenna who seemed beside herself with excitement. All in
all, it really wasn’t a bad place to stay, but Stiles knew that he couldn’t. He
had to leave, if not for himself than for his father. He couldn’t leave his dad
out there to fend for himself. He was getting older and things would get more
difficult.
Stiles finished up his curly fries, crushing up the container himself before
Derek got the chance to grab everything. He wanted to show that he wasn’t
helpless, even though Derek had claimed that he proved himself earlier. He
followed where Derek had gone before and found himself standing in front of a
machine that he had no idea how to work. Behind him, Kenna smiled gently and
stood to walk over to him. She silently showed him how to work the trash
compactor, and he was glad it was her and not Derek. Stiles knew how to use a
good amount of household appliances. He had broken into his fair share of
homes, but a trash compactor was never something he had found that he needed,
so he always just brushed past it.
“Let’s go see my rooms I guess,” Stiles said, trying to put on a smile for
Kenna’s sake, “I should probably rest if we’re going shopping tomorrow.” She
seemed so happy here and Stiles didn’t want to do anything that might ruin
that. She was a genuinely nice person, sweet and kind. There was no reason for
her to feel any kind of unnecessary pain, emotional or otherwise. Kenna gave an
excited nod, looping her arm through Stiles’ to lead him through the house. He
wasn’t so sure about personalizing things like it seemed she wanted him to, but
Derek seemed to want it as well, along with the opportunity to buy Stiles new
clothes and such. He supposed it would do well to know where the nearest town
was so that he could avoid it at all costs. He was acutely aware of Derek
following behind them as Kenna pointed out various rooms and what they were.
Her rooms were Stiles’ favorite so far. The paintings on the wall were amazing,
and a genuine smile came across his face when he saw them, making sure to
compliment her on her work.
“This is the library,” Kenna said a little ways down another hallway, pointing
at a closed door. Stiles froze, pulling her to a stop.
“You have a library?” he asked slowly, eyebrows raised.
“Yes,” Kenna said with a good-natured laugh, “Would you like to see?”
“Does the Earth orbit the sun?” Stiles deadpanned, only causing Kenna to laugh
again. She pushed open the dark wood door, revealing the largest amount of
books that Stiles had ever seen in his life. Three out of four walls were
covered with shelves and every shelf was crammed full of books. There were
rolling ladders to reach the top shelves, a wall made completely of windows,
and somehow there was also a fireplace, though Stiles didn’t see a chimney.
Comfortable chairs and couches, along with two dark wood desks dotted the room.
Stiles slipped his arm out of Kenna’s grasp, taking a few slow steps into the
room, eyes wide, lips parted. He had never seen so many books, so much
information. “I don’t need to go anywhere else,” Stiles said with a decided
nod, “This can be my room.” Kenna laughed and shook her head.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said with a smile, grabbing Stiles’ arm again, “You’re
getting a proper bed. You can go into the library whenever you want.” Stiles
was seconds away from pouting, but he managed to stop himself, giving a sigh as
he allowed Kenna to drag him out and continue on down the hallway.
Derek followed along the two humans quietly but he could sense Stiles'
hesitation at it all. Derek didn't really blame him after all that he'd been
through either. Humans were basically promised a life of pain and misery since
the day they were born and to all of a sudden have your view of the world and
its inhabitants - at least some of them - tipped on its head. So he watched
Stiles examine the rooms Kenna showed him; he seemed especially interested in
her room and the murals she'd done on the walls. The one completely solid wall
was covered in a beautiful and elaborate painting of a forest and her bed was
pushed up against it; the wall to the right of the bed and facing the doorway
had large windows but in the space left she had painted in floral vines and
lattices; the wall to the left facing the bed had a bookshelf and two doors to
the closet and bathroom respectively and on the large space left on that wall
was painted the Parthenon in all its columned glory; the last wall - the wall
that held the door into the walkway - had a built in bookshelf and in the
remaining space a Scottish hillside covered in blood red poppies was depicted
in stunning detail. She had a desk in there as well as her paint equipment set
up by the large windows but everything was packed up nice and neat.
Derek followed their path into the library but waited by the door with a soft
smile as Stiles looked around. "You're welcome to spend as much time here as
you'd like. Nothing is off limits to you here," he said gently, letting Stiles
take in his fill before Kenna was sweeping him away.
They stopped at the door to Stiles' rooms and Kenna pushed open the door to
reveal the large bedroom beyond. Derek stayed put in the hallway as the two
stepped inside. The walls were ivory with pale yellow trim and there was a
large queen size bed with plush looking bedding and many pillows. There was a
desk in there too with a laptop sitting on top of it, cell phone resting beside
it, chargers for both wrapped up in rubber bands on one of the small shelves.
"Our numbers and all of the packs' are programmed into the phone for you in
case you ever need one of us," Kenna told him as they went in to look around.
She showed him into the large bathroom and then seemed to remember something,
dragging Stiles back towards the doorway but stopping a few feet away so they
were both facing Derek. She was smiling smugly at him and Derek rolled his eyes
as she turned to Stiles. "Tell Derek he can come inside. Just trust me."
Once he'd done so almost reluctantly and definitely uncertainly, Derek took a
deliberate step over the threshold. "The Hale Pack's emissary is very good at
what he does," Derek shared with a small smirk as Kenna nodded her agreement.
"Look, do you see this?" Kenna asked as she pulled Stiles closer to the
threshold and then ran her fingers over the door paneling where intricate
little symbols had been branded into the wood and then sealed over with
lacquer. The symbols were all around the doorway, on the floor and both sides
and even the top. "That's what Deaton does for us, for all the humans in the
pack. Our rooms are protected so anyone who isn't human can't come in unless
you give them verbal permission. As soon as they go out again, they can't come
in unless you give them permission again." She waved a hand at Derek to
demonstrate and he sighed but did step out of the room. He tried to walk back
in but was stopped, thus demonstrating its usefulness.
"It's supposed to give you a space of your own, so that no one who isn't human
can't bother you. You're completely safe in this room and on the house grounds.
There are fences all around the property inlaid with wolfsbane and mountain
ash. The only way for a werewolf to get past is through the main gate with a
code," Derek added, reassuring Stiles of his safety there. "If for whatever
reason you feel threatened, just come into your room or Kenna's and you'll be
safe. The enchantments extend to the windowsills as well."
Stiles ran his fingers gently over the sigils on the wall. He had only heard
rumors about preventative magic, mere whispers. Little things like how it could
keep the werewolves at bay and how special people had to perform it. He’d never
gotten his hopes up for getting more information on it. That kind of knowledge
would have cost him far more than he was willing to pay, if he could even find
the right people to tell him anything. Things were different now. He had an
entire library and the whole Internet at his fingertips. Finding out certain
things would definitely be to his benefit.
Stiles was sure that Derek could hear how his heartbeat got a little slower,
could sense the relief in his body when he realized that he could keep the man
out if he so chose to. In the encampments, they had only ever had the illusion
of protection, the hope that their numbers would be enough to keep some of them
alive. This? This was something completely different. This was real protection,
something that Stiles could count on. He decided that he would try and memorize
them, try and figure out some way that he could use this magic to protect his
father when they found each other again. If Stiles had things like this at his
disposal, he and his dad would never have to fear anything ever again.
“Thank you,” Stiles eventually said, “For everything.” He spared a glance at
Derek before begrudgingly adding a muttered, “Both of you.” As unsure as he was
about Derek’s general everything, Stiles knew that the werewolf had really
saved his ass. This was more than he had ever expected to get out of his life.
His own room to do with as he pleased, the option of who he could let in, the
promise of safety, warmth, food, and comfort should he want it. With so many
options, Stiles wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself.
“Why don’t we leave you to settle in?” Kenna said with a soft smile, as though
she could see Stiles getting overwhelmed, “Then tomorrow we can go into town
for your things. Make a day of it.” Stiles gave her a short nod and a forced
smile, not wanting to disappoint her. He had no idea why he felt like this,
after just meeting her. Maybe because he suddenly knew what it felt like to
have your world turned upside down and have everything you know challenged.
Kenna was born into this while Stiles was more or less born into running. He
didn’t want to be the one to ruin her world.
Stiles waited until they both left to shut the door. He leaned against it,
letting out a small sigh. This was undeniably strange. Stiles glanced at the
phone and the computer, but exhaustion was overtaking him quickly. He had had
an eventful day and his body was finally telling him that it was time to sleep.
Stiles limped over to the gigantic bed, his feet starting to ache the longer he
stood on them. He didn’t worry about changing or anything since he had no other
clothes save for the ones that he had borrowed from Derek. Stiles flopped onto
the bed, asleep before he hit the pillow.
That’s when the nightmares began. Stiles thrashed in his sleep, small whimpers
and groans slipping past his lips. Inside his head, he was reliving memories he
didn’t even know he had.
He was in some kind of clearing in a forest. The sun was bright, the grass was
green, and the water in the stream was clear. Stiles’ mother was there with
him, laughing and playing in the grass. Suddenly, the sky went dark. All the
plants began to die and the water in the stream turned to blood. A lone howl
rang through the clearing, resonating into Stiles’ very core. Stiles looked for
his mother to find that she had disappeared. He began screaming for her,
stumbling through the forest, tears running down his face. Then he saw her,
lying on the forest floor, throat ripped out by some monster. He felt hot
breath on his back and Stiles turned around. All he could see was a pair of
glowing red eyes. Stiles turned to run, but the monster lashed out, claws
raking down Stiles’ back. Stiles woke up screaming. He could hear pounding on
his door. He didn’t know who it was, too frazzled to even think about it before
muttering, “Come in,” his voice hoarse.
Derek was the one who woke when Stiles started thrashing about. Derek was a
light sleeper to begin with and now with his even more enhanced hearing from
becoming an alpha his senses could range all the way out of the house to the
walls if he pushed it just the slightest bit. He didn't blame Stiles for having
nightmares; Derek got nightmares himself. But then Stiles was honest to god
screaming and crying out and Derek couldn't ignore it. He hopped out of bed and
was rushing through the halls to Stiles' room, meeting Kenna on the way. Derek
was wearing nothing but his sweat pants and Kenna was in little cotton shorts
and a camisole. She was the one to knock frantically at the door and Derek
hadn't expected entrance but Stiles gave it without thinking so Derek spilled
in after her.
Kenna crawled onto Stiles' bed and stared down at him with huge scared eyes,
worry and concern in her features as she brushed sweaty hair from his forehead.
"Shh, Stiles it's okay. It's alright. It was only a dream," she told him
soothingly as Derek hovered about a foot from the end of Stiles' bed. As much
as the alpha in him was telling him to hold and comfort Stiles, his pack, he
didn't want to push Stiles or make him uncomfortable. He knew that the human
had little liking for Derek since he'd bought him and while it hurt it was also
understandable. Moonlight filtered through the open curtains from the full moon
outside but Derek's eyes didn't glow and he remained human, arms crossed over
his chest.
The moonlight bathed everything in shades of white and silver and it threw
Derek's skin and muscles into sharp relief, eyes grey instead of their greenish
blue. The moonlight also threw something else into sharp relief, something that
was usually out of place on a werewolf; four long ugly scars that started on
the back of Derek's left shoulder and curved over his pectoral, down to his
ribs and across his abdominal muscles. Kenna barely even paid Derek a glance as
she spoke up.
"Derek, can you go make him some hot tea, please," she asked, rubbing Stiles'
shoulder tenderly in an effort to soothe him. Derek hesitated and then nodded;
sparing Stiles one more look full of concern and surprising tenderness. He
turned away and disappeared from the room to leave Kenna and Stiles alone to
talk. With some effort he drew in his senses so that they would have privacy,
focusing his hearing just on what was around him.
"Are you okay?" Kenna asked Stiles once Derek was gone, biting on her lower lip
as she looked down at him. "Do you want to talk about it? I get nightmares too
sometimes. So does Derek. Sometimes it helps to talk about it you know, but
don't feel like you have to, it's totally okay. How can I help you? Do you need
some fresh air? I could open the windows?"
Stiles wiped his face roughly, trying to bring himself back into the realm of
reality. Both Kenna and Derek had come to his aid, something he hadn’t exactly
expected, though he wasn’t sure why. It was clear that they both cared for his
wellbeing and he had no idea why he thought they wouldn’t come if he was
screaming. He found himself staring after Derek as he left, zoning out
completely until Kenna’s questioning brought him back.
“I’m fine,” he blatantly lied, shaking his head a little bit, “I just… Is there
a mirror in this room? A big one?” Kenna pointed towards a door, one that had
to be a closet. Stiles slid out of bed, Kenna close beside him as he walked
toward it, almost ripping it open. A large mirror hung on the back of the door.
Stiles ripped off his shirt and turned around, craning his neck until he could
see most of his back, until he could see his scars. He had always known they
were there. He had been able to feel them when he was younger, but whenever he
asked, his father always said that Stiles had scraped himself falling out of a
tree. Stiles had accepted the story without question, figuring that his dad had
no reason to lie. Maybe he was wrong. Staring at them now, after what had
happened in his dream, he couldn’t deny that they bore a striking resemblance
to a set of claw marks.
“What happened?” Kenna asked softly, hoping to get Stiles to open up so he
could let it out and feel better.
“My dad always told me I fell out of a tree,” Stiles answered, his voice
equally quiet, “Now I’m not so sure.” Memories didn’t really start sticking
around until about three years old, and Stiles was only a little older than
that when his mother was killed. It was entirely plausible that he had seen the
whole thing and repressed it, though how he had escaped he had no idea.
“Let Derek back in,” Kenna murmured, her eyes on the door. Stiles turned his
head the other way to see the werewolf standing there with a steaming mug of
tea. He locked eyes with the werewolf for a moment, turning to hide his back
almost as soon as he did. He was silent for a moment before he broke the stare,
tearing his gaze away as he leaned down and picked up his shirt.
“Come in,” Stiles finally said, still feeling strange about the amount of
control he had in this situation. He pulled his shirt back over his head and
accepted the tea from Derek with a jerky nod of gratitude. “Sorry for waking
you guys up,” he said after taking a small sip. He did feel pretty bad about
that. One glance out the window told Stiles that it was still pretty late, the
sun not having rose yet. He knew how he got when he didn’t sleep enough, and he
felt guilty for taking sleep away from someone else.
Derek stepped inside quietly, having caught just a glimpse of the thin white
scars on Stiles' back. They were smoother and more precise looking but they
looked strikingly similar to the ones Derek had himself; Derek's were ugly
though. Marred white skin several shades lighter than the skin around it, the
edges were jagged and rough and still a little pink towards the outside like
despite Derek's advance level healing they still weren't completely better. He
allowed Stiles to pull his shirt back on before offering the mug silently and
taking a step back when Stiles took it, wanting to give him his space.
Derek could tell that Kenna was burning with a million questions but to her
credit she stayed quiet and didn't try to pry. They were all quiet for a long
moment before Derek cleared his throat and shook his head, looking outside
towards the full moon. The light from the moon caught his eyes in just the
right way that his tapetum lucidum reflected the light back and made his entire
iris and pupil go red for a brief moment before he looked back at Stiles. "It's
alright. We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You can wake us with
anything you need, even if it's just a nightmare," he answered, voice rough
from the deep slumber he'd been in before he woke.
Kenna looked back and forth from Stiles to Derek for a moment before biting her
lip and looking to Stiles. She stayed quiet though tried to motion Stiles to
look at Derek's skin, willing him to make the connection. Kenna of course knew
how Derek had gotten his scars, the whole pack did. But Stiles wouldn't know of
course, hadn't been there when it happened. Derek just stood like a sentinel at
the foot of the bed, a bit closer than he had been initially but he was looking
out the window instead of at the two humans, arms loosely crossed over his
chest and body angled slightly towards the window like he wanted to jump out of
it and run into the waiting trees beyond the line of the backyard.
Kenna was giving Stiles a weird look, as though she was subtly trying to
gesture to him about something. Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he
just looked at her, conveying that he had no clue what she wanted him to do.
Kenna sighed a bit, glancing at Derek before getting closer to Stiles.
“Look at his skin,” she mouthed carefully, wanting to make sure that Stiles
could read her lips. Stiles stared at her for a minute, jerking his head
towards Derek in question. Kenna nodded at him, urging him on. She wanted them
to have something in common, even the smallest thing, just anything to give
them a connection that they could work from. She knew that Derek was a good
person and she wanted Stiles to know it too.
Stiles looked over at Derek warily, as though staring was against some kind of
rule that was never said. He looked back at Kenna who just nodded at him, and
he put his mug down on the bedside table before looking back at Derek. His eyes
flickered over the man’s bare torso, confused as to what Kenna wanted him to
look at until his eyes caught on something. The jagged edge of smooth skin.
Stiles leaned forward a bit, trying to get a better look at what had to be some
kind of scar. He didn’t even know that werewolves could get scars. He though
that everything just healed automatically. Stiles continued to lean forward,
more and more of the marred skin coming into view until Stiles leaned just a
bit too far and fell straight off the bed.
“Oww,” Stiles groaned, rubbing his head that had hit pretty hard against the
carpeted floor. If it had been wooden or tile, he might’ve been worried about a
concussion, but he was pretty sure he was fine.
“Are you alright?” Kenna asked immediately, worry clear on her face as she slid
off the bed, moving to help Stiles up.
“I’m fine,” he lied, head pounding a bit as he waved her off standing up on his
own. He looked at Derek who was looking at him now instead of out the window.
“How did you get yours?” Stiles heard himself ask, his mind to mouth filter
clearly not working. That was probably not the best question to ask,
considering the possible traumatic answer and the fact that it was a full moon
tonight.
Derek looked over immediately when Stiles fell off the bed and he rushed a step
forward to help before catching himself and stepping back again with his arms
more tightly crossed. So, yea, he wanted Stiles to like him probably but he
didn't and that was fine. Derek could live with it as long as he was safe. He
didn't know why he wanted Stiles to like him really, didn't know why it was so
important. Derek had never cared about whether or not people liked him in the
past but for some reason Derek found himself wanting to prove to Stiles that he
was a good person and not just another asshole werewolf like everyone assumed
all werewolves were. He swallowed thickly and then his eyes flashed up to
Stiles' face when he asked Derek a question.
He saw that Stiles was looking at his scars and Derek's eyes flashed red a
moment as he looked down at them before glancing away. He kept his jaw clenched
tightly closed, not wanting to speak about it really. But Kenna appeared at his
side and wrapped an arm around his waist to squeeze him. He gave her grateful
look and she moved away to sit at the edge of Stiles' bed so Derek sighed
heavily. He moved to stand by the window and spoke carefully. Stiles deserved
some sort of answers at least. If he was going to trust Derek then he needed to
know more about him. Keeping secrets was never conducive to trust.
"I was never supposed to be an alpha. That was Laura's job. She's older and
therefore my mother would pass on her status to my sister. Growing up I always
knew that Laura would be my alpha when we were older." He took a deep breath
and paused before going on. "My Uncle Peter, my mom's younger brother, he was
always starved for attention it seemed like and he wanted power. Two years ago
a rogue alpha came through town and my uncle helped some others to take him
down, delivering the final blow and taking the Alpha's powers as his own. Peter
was fine for a while but," Derek sighed and shook his head. "He was never meant
to be an alpha and it was too much for him to handle. About thirteen months ago
he lost his mental capacities and tried to build himself a new pack by hunting
humans, biting and turning them against their will." He turned his back to the
window and sat down on the little ledge, staring down at his hands and
carefully letting his claws extend very slowly. "Eleven months ago it had been
a full moon and we'd been looking for Peter for two months before that, trying
to take him down as peaceably as we could. He was family after all and it
wasn't exactly his fault that he couldn't handle the extra power. Just
genetics. I went running to blow off steam and my little sister came with me.
Elsa, she was fourteen at the time and born human. We came across my uncle
Peter in the woods and he tried to attack Elsa, smelling that she wasn't wolf.
I stepped in." He reached up and placed the tip of each of his claws on the
lines on his chest and very lightly trailed them down to where they ended just
below his navel. "He got his claws in me before I could do anything, almost
pulled my organs from my body but Elsa had rolled behind Peter and managed to
distract him. He turned from me in a rage and it gave me enough time to pull my
claws across his throat and let him bleed out on the ground next to me." His
eyes were dark and haunted and Kenna leaned against Stiles' shoulder as she
watched Derek stare off at nothing, gaze focused someplace far away.
"Afterwards, I was carried back home by my sisters half dead and practically
catatonic. They didn't understand why my wounds hadn't stopped bleeding, hadn't
started to heal. It was because I suppressed it. I didn't want to let it heal
like it never happened. I killed my own uncle to save my sister. Something like
that shouldn't just be allowed to disappear. It's ugly and rough and it should
never be allowed to be forgotten or forgiven."
He finally blinked and his eyes were watery as he looked back at the two humans
perched on the bed. It was silent for a moment and then Derek stood straight
again, claws still out. "Excuse me," he mumbled and fled the bedroom. Half a
minute later a huge jet black wolf with silver markings on its face and back
streaked through the back yard and into the trees where a long piercing howl
was heard moments later and then just barely a second of silence before the
answering howl of several other wolves further away.
"He's afraid it'll happen to him," Kenna said after a moment, looking over at
Stiles. "He's afraid that since he wasn't meant to be an alpha just like Peter
wasn't meant to be an alpha that it'll happen to him to; that he'll lose
control. He said Laura's older but they're twins. She's older by two and a half
minutes and Talia could've chosen either of them to be alpha but chose Laura
because in the Hale line the alpha power was always past mother to daughter.
Derek could've been an alpha so his body can handle it in a way Peter's
couldn't. Derek just hasn't accepted that yet. Or forgiven himself. He and
Peter had been close when Derek was younger. He taught Derek how to play
baseball and how to ride a bike and how to draw. Derek barely moved for weeks
and didn't speak for longer. I honestly didn't think he'd tell you the whole
story like that. He's usually a private person. I thought he'd give the short
version."
Stiles had stared with rapt attention the entire time that Derek had been
speaking, completely taken aback by his story. In short, that shit was severely
fucked up. He’d heard of plenty of werewolves who killed each other for power,
never even blinking an eye, but it was more than clear that Derek had some
serious problems with what he’d done, how he’d gotten power. As any normal
person should. The fact that Derek had been so close to Peter and had been
forced to kill him out of necessity was probably the worst part. Stiles sat
quietly on his bed thinking.
“I’m gonna go back to sleep,” Stiles said quietly, lying to Kenna for the third
time that night. Kenna just nodded, unable to tell.
“Call me if you need anything,” she said with a smile, closing the door after
her as she left. Stiles stared out the window once she was gone, trying to
understand the feeling in his chest. It was a strange sensation, like something
was pulling at him, telling him that there was something he had to do. Stiles
stood up and went to the window, pushing it up, feeling the cool night air on
his face.
Derek had trusted him. There was no other way to say it. Derek had chosen to
tell Stiles, a human who still barely even looked at Derek, something
incredibly personal from his past, something that he could have easily chosen
not to speak about at all. Something inside of Stiles, some deep tug that he
couldn’t understand, was telling him to return the favor. Stiles looked down.
His window overlooked the backyard, but there were no rooms directly in front
of him, just the flat side of the house, which meant that it was a pretty big
drop if he decided to jump. Even Stiles with all his impulsiveness knew that
was stupid. He also knew how far werewolves could hear if they chose.
“Umm… hey, Derek,” Stiles said slowly, feeling incredibly stupid for talking to
the air, “So… Kenna told me that you’re scared of going all psycho like your
uncle did. God, this is so stupid, you probably can’t even hear me. But umm…
just in case you can, I kinda wanted to say thanks? For trusting me, I mean. I
uhh, I wasn’t expecting it. Also… you know what, never mind.” Stiles closed the
window, hobbling back over to his bed. He stood next to it for a minute,
silently fighting with himself before he cursed under his breath, walking back
over to the window and yanking it up.
“I’ve met a lot of werewolves in my time,” Stiles said quickly, trying to get
this out as fast as possible, “Met plenty of betas, a few omegas, and even an
alpha or two. Let me tell you, they were assholes. Every single one of them.
They all thought they were the greatest thing since sliced bread. But you?
You’re not like that. You’re… you’re different, and… I don’t think you have
anything to be scared of.” It felt weird to say, but it was the truth. Whether
or not Stiles liked him didn’t matter. It was clear as day that Derek wasn’t
like any other werewolf on the street and Stiles was man enough to admit that.
He kept the window open this time as he walked back over to his bed, climbing
under the covers and wrapping himself in them tightly. The last thing Stiles
remembered before drifting off to sleep was whispering the words ‘come in’.
In his full shift form, Derek's senses were even more heightened than they were
in human form. So as soon as he heard his name called quietly from the house he
looped back through the acres of property towards the back yard again. He
paused so that he was still hidden like a shadow in the tree line and he
listened to Stiles' words. Emotions were easier to deal with when he was
shifted, simplified down to a primal level that didn't hurt so badly. He sat on
his haunches, massive head hung down almost in shame as he listened to Stiles'
words. They made him feel a little bit better but not a whole lot. Maybe he did
had some chance of getting Stiles to warm up to him after all. He listened as
Stiles climbed back into bed and then was startled when he heard Stiles
extending him access. He hesitated before loping across the yard to the edge of
the house. He shifted human - naked - and scaled the house, hesitating before
slipping through the open window. Knowing he wouldn't be able to get back in if
he went to get clothes and not wanting Stiles to wake to him naked, Derek
shifted back into his massive wolf form and then curled up on the carpet next
to Stiles' bed. He rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes, falling
asleep there as one of Stiles' arms fell off the bed and his hand landed in
Derek's thick soft fur. He thought of pulling away but ended up pushing into it
and then did fall asleep with long slender fingers gripping at his dark fur. He
stayed there the entire night, keeping sentinel at Stiles' beside.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Stiles slept soundly the rest of the night, not a dream to remember but no
nightmares as well. It had been a long time since Stiles slept without
nightmares, even minor ones that he couldn’t wake up from. Birds began singing
outside his window as the sun rose, light and sound filtering through his open
window. Stiles responded like any teenager, with something akin to a pained
groan at being torn from sleep. The light was shining almost directly in his
eyes from another window and Stiles rolled to try and get away from it.
Unfortunately, he rolled right off the bed, not realizing how close he had been
to the edge. A tiny yelp had slipped from his lips on the way down, eyes
opening wide in fright, but instead of hitting the carpeted floor, Stiles felt
himself hit something furry and warm that also woke up as soon as Stiles landed
on it. Stiles scurried off, not getting off the floor but putting a foot of
space between him and what had to be Derek. Stiles had seen the same wolf last
night with Kenna, streaking across the backyard. Stiles stared unabashedly. He
had never been this close to a shifted alpha before, not that he could
remember. His heart was still pounding wildly, though it was more the aftermath
of the fall than anything else. He didn’t remember Derek coming into his room,
but he did just barely remember giving him permission. Stiles threw a glance at
the nearest clock and saw that it was only about five-thirty in the morning. He
flopped back onto the floor with a groan. “I was going to say good morning,”
Stiles said, his voice rough from sleep, “But it’s too early to be alive, so
I’m going back to sleep.” He curled up right there on the floor, too lazy to
even get back into bed.
Derek woke startled and automatically he was on his four feet, snarl on his
face as he looked around for danger. When all he found was a disgruntled
looking Stiles he relaxed and huffed out a breath before turning and padding
closer to him. He stared down at the boy laying down and when Stiles didn't get
up, instead curling onto the ground, Derek nudged his nose against his hip to
get him back I'm bed. Stiles didn't move so Derek nudged at his ribs and then
sighed. He moved to stand in the space between Stiles and his bed and nudged
him over a few inches so that if he woke suddenly again he wouldn't sit up and
smack his head on the bed frame. Derek hopped up with two paws on the edge of
the bed and clasped the blanket in his teeth, careful as he pulled it down off
the bed and dragged it over Stiles' tired frame. He nosed at Stiles' face with
his cold wet nose and then huffed, laying down at his head and pressing his
nose to his hair until Stiles' head was pillowed on Derek's warm, fur covered
belly. In his shifted form, Derek was more prone to his wolf and his instincts
and these instincts were telling him to protect and comfort his pack. He curled
around Stiles and tentatively hooked his big head over Stiles' shoulder so he
could lay it against his chest while Stiles still lay on Derek's stomach. With
a huff of hot breath and a soft contented growl that was almost more of a purr
if wolves did that sort of thing, he closed his eyes and rested again, happy
with the knowledge that he was doing something to help and Stiles hadn't yelled
at him to get out. Yet at least.
Stiles had been asleep again before his head even touched the floor and he
barely noticed his body being nudged and moved beyond responding with an
annoyed groan and a flailed limb. He noticed getting warmer and he noticed his
head being supported better, but not enough to warrant him waking up when it
was still before at least eight in the morning. So Stiles just snuggled in,
hugging the blanket tightly around him and nuzzling into the warm pillow that
felt strangely like fur, not realizing that it was actually Derek he was
curling into. That was how Kenna found them when she came in to wake Stiles at
nine.
“Stiles,” she said, knocking gently on the door, “Stiles, if we want to get to
town in time to make sure we get everything you need, you should start getting
ready now.” When Kenna received no response, she opened the door. She didn’t
see Stiles in his bed and saw the open window. She panicked for a moment,
rushing over to it when something caught her eye. She turned to see Derek
curled around the newest addition to their home, still fully shifted, and
Stiles sleeping soundly against him, whether he knew Derek was there or not.
She was conflicted, unsure if she should wake them up. She had no idea how the
two would react if they woke up in this kind of position. Glancing at the
clock, Kenna saw that she had wasted fifteen minutes watching them. Making an
executive decision, she clapped her hands twice loudly, jerking the two out of
sleep. “Rise and shine,” she said happily.
“Go away,” Stiles groaned, like any sixteen-year-old teenager would when faced
with the prospect of waking up. He was more lucid now but still clung to sleep
desperately, chasing it as he pressed his face further into his pillow. Stiles’
eyebrows furrowed. Pillow? He distinctly remembered falling off the bed at the
ass crack of dawn and his pillow didn’t come with him. Stiles opened his eyes
only to be met with an expanse of black fur. Derek. He jerked up into a sitting
position, eyes wide as he tried to figure out how exactly that had happened.
Kenna didn’t give him the time to over think it.
“You,” she said, pointing at Stiles, “To the bathroom. You,” she shifted her
finger to the still shifted Derek, “Go get dressed and bring Stiles some new
clothes to wear. I’ll have breakfast ready when you’re done.” She ushered
Stiles to the bathroom giving Derek no more than an almost knowing smile before
they disappeared into the hallway to get ready for the day.
Derek didn't even crack open an eye when Kenna clapped her hands and ordered
them awake, just growled low in warning at her and tried to go back to sleep
with his head still resting comfortably over Stiles' heart. But then Stiles
seemed to realize Derek was Derek and not a pillow and he jerked up as if he'd
been burned. Derek let out a soft wounded noise before he could stop himself
and then got to his feet, looking at the ground like a dog who'd just been
caught chewing on it's owners shoes. Derek watched as Stiles practically bolted
up and away from him into the bathroom. Derek snapped his teeth at Kenna but
she just smirked and wriggled her fingers at him playfully so he slunk out of
the room. He padded down the hall towards a door and pawed at the handle until
it opened to reveal another staircase, which he loped up gracefully. His room
took up most of the third story and it was the only place in the house that he
didn't usually let Kenna into, only for special circumstances. Once in the
privacy of his own space he shifted back to human and just stared forward for a
moment as he thought about how stupid he'd been to stay, to curl around Stiles
like that. He thought Stiles had known it was him but obviously he was wrong
and it shouldn't hurt so badly. He padded over to put on a pair of shorts and
gathered up a pair of clean sweat pants, a t-shirt, pull over sweater and
boots. He left the folded up pile on the floor just outside Stiles' rooms along
with the boots before fleeing back upstairs. He showered in steaming hot water
and let it pour over his body. Somehow he ended up with a hand wrapped around
himself, pulling himself into hardness, and it didn't take long for him to
spill over onto the floor of the shower with the image of mole dotted skin and
pink parted lips in his mind, guilt and disgust with himself searing through
his veins. He got out and dried and dressed and then went downstairs to the
kitchen, scowling at nothing as he made himself a cup of coffee and ignored
Kenna's knowing gaze. He really didn't want to talk to her right then. He was
really an awful person.
Once left on his own in the shower, Stiles had plenty of time to over think
what had happened. He had woken up with Derek curled around him and Stiles
nuzzling into him in return. Stiles had no idea how they had ended up like
that. He remembered waking up from his nightmare and he remembered Kenna and
Derek coming into his room. He remembered looking at his scars and then asking
Derek about his own. He remembered how open Derek had been before he bolted. He
remembered talking to the air outside the window, overcome by some strange
impulse to make Derek feel better after he had opened up like that. He
remembered giving him permission to enter before falling asleep and then
falling off the bed a few hours later. Stiles supposed that that was when they
had ended up wrapped around each other. Thinking about it slowly, he supposed
it made sense. Derek was incredibly nice all things considered and it wasn’t
all that surprising that he had tried to comfort Stiles on the floor. He began
washing himself quickly. He briefly considered giving himself a little release
but he felt weird about it knowing that Derek could probably hear him. Stiles
turned the water off, his skin red from the heat of the water. He wrapped a
towel tightly around his waist and wandered back down to his room where he
found a pile of clothes and a pair of shoes. He picked them up and got dressed
quickly inside his room, towel drying his hair. He went down to the kitchen
where he found Kenna and Derek. He still felt supremely awkward about what had
happened with Derek and wasn’t really sure how to act around him. Stiles was
meant to hate him, dislike him at the very least. If he didn’t, it would make
it all the more difficult to leave when the time came.
“Did you sleep well?” Kenna asked from where she was cooking something on the
stove.
“Yes,” Stiles answered honestly, sparing a sideways glance at Derek, his face
going a bit pink without his permission. He felt weird that the best sleep he’d
had in years was one with a werewolf wrapped around him.
“Good, we’re up for a busy day,” she said with a smile, sliding a plate of eggs
and bacon in front of him. Stiles thanked her quietly and practically inhaled
his food, hungry as ever.
Derek tensed when Stiles came into the room moments later and he spared a quick
look but Stiles wasn't looking back so he turned his eyes away. He stayed
silent as he leaned against the counter nursing a large mug of coffee. He
should offer some to Stiles but he couldn't form the words so he left Kenna to
her work. It was supposed to be Derek's day to do the cooking but he was
grateful that she took over. When it was ready she pushed him bodily towards
the table and he scowled at her but sat down across from Stiles, staring down
at the wood grain on the table as Kenna set out plates of French toast, eggs,
and bacon in front of them. Derek muttered a thank you and ate quietly.
"I'm sorry," he said eventually when he was feeling too awkward and he glanced
up at Stiles. "I shouldn't have- I should've made sure you knew. I thought you
realized- I just. Instincts are harder to suppress when I'm shifted. I needed-
I wanted to...be close to you. But I should've made sure to have your
permission first. I'm sorry." He was red by the time he finished and looked
down at his plate, pushing a bite of toast around through a puddle of syrup but
not eating it.
"I'm gonna go get dressed," Kenna decided as she stood up and took her plate to
the sink. "Derek, you can rinse dishes right? Show Stiles how to work the
dishwasher and where everything is, hmm?" She ruffled Derek's hair and left
without waiting for a response and Derek just sighed with a nod.
Stiles was a little surprised by Derek’s apology, but more so by the red color
staining his cheeks. It made Stiles blush as well just by looking at him and he
had no idea why. He didn’t say anything, figuring that Kenna would fill the
silence when she just up and left. Stiles stared at her with desperate eyes but
she just smiled and left the room. Now Stiles had to say something or it would
be weird. Well, weirder.
“It’s… It’s alright,” Stiles said but then he felt like he had waited to long
and needed to clarify, “The whole… sleeping thing. I mean… instincts and all
that. They can’t be blamed for everything of course, but I was freaking out
earlier and I guess it was natural or something?” The more he went on the more
idiotic he felt, similar to the night before when he had been speaking to an
empty backyard. Despite how awkward he felt about it, millions of questions
were burning in Stiles’ mind. He was silent for all of three seconds after
speaking before a question burst out of his mouth.
“It was a bit quick, don’t you think?” Stiles asked, “I mean… you said that
you, uhh, you wanted to be close and that it was instinct. That’s like a pack
thing right? To want to be close to other members of the pack? But I’ve only
been here for a day. Is that too fast be already be a part of the pack or is it
like an immediate thing? Or is it on a case-by-case basis? Is there some kind
of secret initiation that I accidentally did? Is it because you bought me?” The
last question slipped out before Stiles could stop it and his empty plate
suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world. He stared at it as
though it would suddenly make him take back his words or disappear.
Derek looked up at Stiles when he started blurting out question after question
and when he finished it took Derek a moment to sort through it all before
sighing a bit. "No, it- there's no time limit or anything. It's case-by-case,
alpha-by-alpha. Everyone is different. I tend to be... sometimes
overprotective. It makes it easier and quicker for me to form attachments. My
instincts- I wouldn't have wanted to be near you if I hadn't had umm, formed
positive feelings towards you. Most alphas... don't. Not for humans at least.
But I grew up with humans as part of my pack. My little sister and Kenna and
others. It's second nature to me to consider the people I care about to be
pack," he explained, staring down at the table as the tips of his ears flamed
red. "There's no secret initiation and it has nothing to do with how you came
to live here. It's all on me. Because I wanted you to be."
It was quiet in the kitchen for a while and Derek prayed like hell that Kenna
would come down soon but he could hear her shuffling in her room, brushing
teeth and looking for clothes. Derek was starting to feel awkward and antsy
again and he bit down on his lip until he started talking again. "I know you
don't... particularly like me. I wouldn't like myself either if I were you. I
understand. So if you...if you'd prefer I keep my distance from you then I can
do that. I won't bother you or anything if that's what you want," he said,
staring down at the tines of his fork scraping through the syrup before he
stood up. "I just...want you to be comfortable here. Maybe even happy someday."
Stiles didn’t know what to say. Part of him felt horrible that Derek felt so
guilty for what he did when he did it out of comfort and protection. Part of
him felt horrible that he felt any kind of sympathy towards a werewolf for
anything, but Derek was different. Stiles had never met a werewolf like Derek
and he doubted that he ever would again. The more Derek spoke, the worse Stiles
felt. Derek wanted him to be happy here, but Stiles couldn’t stay here. He had
to get back to his father, and he refused to forget that. Without him, his dad
didn’t stand a chance, not for much longer. Not when he got too old to keep up.
Stiles watched Derek stand and go to rinse his plate. He stayed seated for a
few seconds before gathering his own plate and coming to stand next to Derek at
the sink, making the conscious decision to be close to him. It was the same as
Kenna. Stiles wasn’t going to burst Derek’s bubble. He may be a werewolf, but
Stiles had faith in his pretending abilities.
“I don’t think I ever said thanks,” Stiles said quietly, “I know I’m stubborn
and rude and sarcastic, but I know when someone’s saved my ass, and you have.”
He was silent for a moment, struggling with what to say. “If… If Deucalion had
been the one who got me,” Stiles’ grip on the plate got tighter, his hands
trembling ever so slightly, “I know that he’d have me on my knees one way or
another.” Stiles had been able to tell immediately by a glance what kind of
person Deucalion was. He never would have made it out of that werewolf’s den
alive. Stiles put his dishes in the sink quickly, moving to hide his shaking
hands behind his back. He pasted on a small smile, nothing more than a tug at
the corners of his lips. “So, Kenna said you’d show me the dishwasher,” he said
quickly, wanting to change the subject as soon as possible.
Derek growled softly at the mention of Deucalion and what he'd be using Stiles
for right then if Derek hadn't outbid him. He calmed himself down though and
showed Stiles the ropes of the kitchen; how to work the dishwasher and what
buttons to push and where the little soap capsules were underneath the sink. He
showed Stiles where everything went in the cabinets and where the pens were and
the grocery list; that Stiles was welcome to anything in the fridge or pantry
(unlike some weres who kept their fridges locked up so the humans couldn't
steal food) as long as he put something on the list when they ran out so that
Derek could get more.
Kenna came back down in tight jeans and sandals with a plain white cotton V-
neck and a black and grey patterned sweater, hair braided on the sides of her
head and coiled at the nape of her neck. "Ready to go, boys?" She asked with a
smile and Derek nodded, grabbing keys from a drawer. "Garage is this way,
Stiles. Do you know how to drive?" she asked as they followed Derek through a
small hallway off the kitchen to a door that led to the garage. He unlocked the
doors to a sleek black Camaro and climbed into the drivers seat quietly,
turning on the radio.
Stiles paid attention when Derek showed him the workings of the kitchen, not
wanting to forget anything. For the time that he was here, Stiles was going to
do his part and follow the rules, more for Kenna’s sake than for anything else.
She genuinely enjoyed living here and Stiles wasn’t about to throw a wrench
into her lifestyle. He smiled when she came back into the kitchen, grateful for
the third party. He and Derek often got stuck in awkward silences or even worse
conversations, but when Kenna was around it was mostly normal.
“Umm, I’ve driven a getaway vehicle on occasion,” Stiles said with a small
laugh, “Never actually a car though. I can drive a tractor, a lawnmower, a golf
cart, and in one rare situation, a delivery truck.” That’s how Stiles’ father
liked to keep him out of the action. They would go into some small town on a
resource mission for extra food and medical supplies, and Stiles would be the
lookout, laying in wait until his party came rushing out, needing a quick
escape. Stiles always made sure to have one. The delivery truck had been his
favorite. He accidentally stole a truck filled to the brim with birthday cakes.
All the kids in their encampment had been over the moon.
Derek and Kenna shared a look as Derek pulled out of the garage as soon as the
door was up. Getaway car typically meant fugitives, which meant that Stiles had
been part of a group of humans trying to run from enslavement. Which meant that
Stiles potentially had friends or family out there, which meant he was a
greater flight risk. That made Derek antsy and uncertain. He didn't want to let
Stiles go, didn't want to risk him running away to return to them only to be
captured again and end up in someone else's custody besides Derek's. Someone
like Deucalion who wouldn't hesitate to get into Stiles' space, to use him for
whatever suited their fancy. The thought had Derek's mind reeling and he wanted
to hit something or someone.
Kenna cleared her throat and smiled at Stiles, choosing not to bring it up in
case he didn't want to talk about it. "That's funny," she told him as they
drove out of the gates and onto a smooth county road that led into town. "So,
what are you interested in? What's your favorite subject to learn about?
History? English? Math?" she inquired, changing the subject as she sensed
Derek's discomfort with the previous one.
“I don’t really have a favorite subject,” Stiles said with a shrug, “I just
kind of go for whatever has my interest for that day. I, uhh, I have ADHD, so
I’m never really focused for long. I mean, I could be. When I was younger,
around maybe eleven or twelve, my dad would go out into towns and try to get me
Adderall, but it was too dangerous so I told him to stop. The withdrawal was
shit for the first few days, but after it was all out of my system I leveled
out and learned to cope.” Wow, he hadn’t expected so many words to come out of
his mouth. It was like word vomit. He just couldn’t stop talking. He just
needed to steer himself in a different direction, a less personal direction.
“I, umm, I remember this one time we’d gotten a lucky break,” Stiles started,
“We found this high school with no night janitors. All the adults headed to the
cafeteria for food, but I couldn’t help myself and I went to the library. I
spent the entire time reading about the history of the male circumcision. The
next time I found myself in a library it was all about the Ancient Egyptians.
It’s just whatever looks interesting at the time.”
Kenna laughed out loud at that last part and even Derek cracked an amused smile
as he peered at Stiles in the rear view mirror. He wanted to offer Stiles to
look into getting him the medication that he needed but he figured he'd
overwhelmed him enough the past twenty-four hours that offering him something
else could wait.
"Well maybe you could teach Derek something about circumcisions," Kenna said
teasingly as she reached over to flick Derek on the ear playfully. Derek just
bared his teeth at her but it wasn't malicious or filled with any ill intent,
just the fond annoyance of two people who'd grown up in the same house.
"I know what circumcisions are, you idiot," he hissed as the tips of his ears
went red again, chancing a glance at Stiles in the mirror before refocusing his
gaze resolutely on the road ahead.
"Yeah but you're not," Kenna pointed out and Derek groaned.
"Why are you so damn inappropriate?" he bemoaned with a soft groan that
silently asked how this is his life and why he got stuck with this girl as a
part of it. "You're practically engaged and you're talking about my- about
that. What is wrong with you?"
"Please, you're like my annoying older brother and I've seen you naked more
times than I've wanted to," she told him and then twisted in her seat to peer
at Stiles. "Seriously, no modesty in the werewolf world especially with the
rare alphas like Derek who shift fully. Clothes don't pop into and out of
existence so nakedness is a thing that happens often. I hope you aren't
squeamish."
"I hate you," Derek grumbled viciously but Kenna just scratched her nails
through his hair and smiled smugly as he fought not to melt into her touch but
gave in at the end anyways.
"No you don't," she told him confidently and he glared at the road as if it had
personally offended him.
Stiles’ face was the brightest shade of red that it could possibly be. He was
quite used to nakedness. There wasn’t much privacy in a thrown-together camp in
the middle of the woods. You were lucky if you had a sheet in the winter most
times. No, it wasn’t exactly the discussion that was making him turn red, more
of a realization. Derek had been fully shifted when they were asleep together.
That meant that technically, Derek had been naked. Stiles had technically been
snuggling up against Derek’s naked stomach. He now also knew way more
information about Derek’s… personal bits than he wanted to know about anyone’s
bits except for his own.
“So Kenna,” Stiles said loudly, face still pink, “What exactly are we trying to
get in town today? Is there some kind of list, because I tend to forget things.
Wouldn’t want to forget anything. Nope, it is quite important to find
everything we need, obviously or we wouldn’t be going into town.” He knew he
was rambling. It happened when he got nervous or embarrassed. Despite knowing
that it was happening, Stiles was completely powerless to stop it. Someone
usually had to physically shut him up. Kenna just laughed at the two of them.
“Well, you need an entire wardrobe. We can’t have you wearing Derek’s clothes
all the time,” she said, giving Derek a knowing smile, “We need some things for
your room too. I was also going to buy some more canvas for myself. Anything
you need Derek?” Stiles watched her talk and the more she did, the more he got
the feeling that she knew something he didn’t but he had no idea what that good
possibly be and he found that it made him nervous.
Derek was blushing just as fiercely as Stiles was and he didn't really mind the
rambling because it meant that he didn't have to ramble himself which he
would've done just to break up the silence. He ignored Kenna's gazes and
focused on the road, trying and failing to tune out of their conversation until
she dragged him back into it reluctantly. He tried to think of anything he
needed and shook his head with a shrug as Kenna rolled her eyes and looked back
at Stiles.
"He always says he doesn't need anything. You'll learn that sometimes he'll
spend days in his office without coming out. He'll just sit in there and sketch
out his blueprints until they're perfect whenever inspiration strikes. Those
are the days that are boring but nice because all I have to do, we have to do
now, is make sure he eats something so he doesn't starve," Kenna told Stiles
with an easy smile, still twisted around in her seat so that she could face
him. "Sometimes if I'm feeling nice I put a blanket around his shoulders."
It was interesting to see how close Derek and Kenna were despite the age
difference and the species difference. He had never seen a relationship like
that between a werewolf and a human before. A fleeting thought passed through
his head, wondering if he and Derek could ever be that close. Stiles stopped
that train of thought before it even left the station. He wasn't staying and
thoughts like that were dangerous. Still, a quick image flashed through Stiles'
head of Derek having fell asleep on his desk, a blanket thrown haphazardly over
his shoulders. A small smile tugged at Stiles' lips without him even noticing.
"How kind of you," Stiles said to Kenna, playful sarcasm dripping from his
words, "What a saint." He sent her a grin and received a wide one in return.
"I know," she said with a grin. She turned and looked out the windshield and
saw that the town was coming into view. "I think we should go clothes shopping
first," Kenna decided, "And don't worry, we won't let you look stupid." Stiles
made a face at her but smiled soon after. He found that he did genuinely like
Kenna and that worried him. He couldn't form attachments.
Derek huffed a little breath of amusement but let the two humans carry on the
conversation, bickering back and forth like they were brother and sister and
had known each other forever. He listened to them and the radio alternatively
until they got into town and Derek headed for the strip mall type thing that
Kenna directed him to which had a lot of clothing shops and such along it
looked like. He pulled into a spot and then cut the engine, climbing out of the
car and waiting for the other two before heading towards the daunting looking
row of shiny windows with large displays of clothes and bags and shoes and even
lingerie in a couple that made Derek's ears go red.
"What kind of clothes do you like, Stiles?" Kenna asked as she looked over at
him but didn't wait for an answer as she let her eyes skim over his body
appreciatively with a nod of her head. "You look like a khaki skinny jeans and
plaid shirt kind of guy. Mmm, converse?" she suggested, leading them into a
store and letting the boys go first before following.
"Please don't overwhelm him okay? We've got a long day and we don't have a
deadline, just take your time alright?" Derek requested with fond exasperation,
glancing over at Stiles. "I will apologize in advance for her. She's pushy and
likes to shop."
Stiles could see Kenna's eyes skimming over him and no matter how clinical they
were, his cheeks went a bit pink and he felt the urge to cover up despite the
fact the he was wearing clothes. "I don't really know what I like to wear?"
Stiles answered her, phrasing the statement like a question under her scrutiny,
"Really just whatever was available and fit for the most part." He couldn't
afford to be picky when it came to clothing. If he didn't want to run around
naked, he had to take what he was given. Kenna seemed to know what she was
talking about and Stiles felt like he was definitely in capable hands.
He ended up walking next to Derek as they went into the store and he wasn't
exactly sure how that happened. He managed a bit of a smile when Derek warned
Kenna against overwhelming him. In all honesty, he was pretty overwhelmed
already. Every instinct that he had developed over the course of his life was
telling him to run and hide. His body was visibly tense, eyes watchful, and
anyone would be able to see that he was wrestling with his fight or flight
response. Stiles had never been in a place like this that he could remember
when it was open. They would go to places like this on resource missions when
everything was closed, but now it was open and crawling with werewolves.
"I'm putting myself in your capable hands," Stiles said to Kenna with a forced
smile, his hands clenched into fists. He didn't like being somewhere where he
was do vastly outnumbered and unarmed. It made him extremely uncomfortable, but
he didn't want Kenna to know.
Derek could feel the tension coming off Stiles' body and he hesitated before
reaching out to place his hand on the small of Stiles' back in an attempt to
reassure him that he was safe, that Derek wouldn't let anything happen to him.
Yes, werewolves were everywhere but Derek was there too and he'd protect Stiles
and Kenna. Kenna moved through the store easily, pulling clothes from the racks
in a few different sizes; button downs and t-shirts and jeans and belts so that
they could work on finding the right sizes. After they got a size they could
work on styles and putting real outfits together.
She piled clothes into Derek and Stiles' arms, using them like pack mules.
Derek didn't even bother arguing or protesting because he knew that she would
just steamroll right over him and continue on her merry way. A few workers came
over to ask if they needed help but Derek and Kenna both waved them away when
Stiles looked uncomfortable and nervous. Whenever he started looking too
flighty or fidgety, Derek would reach out to touch him just briefly and
wondered quietly why it made Stiles' heart skip and then slow into something
more relaxed. It made his lips curl up at the corners for whatever reason.
Eventually Kenna declared they had enough and lead them to the dressing room,
pushing Stiles into a large one with all of the clothes and then pulling the
curtain shut. "We'll go look at shoes after we find you clothes," she told him
as she and Derek leaned against the wall outside to wait.
Stiles wasn’t all there at the store. He was sometimes, when Kenna would ask
his opinion on something and he could only shrug and agree, not entirely sure
what would look good on him or not. It was when Derek would touch him that he
wasn’t there. Every time that Stiles felt himself getting worked up and
nervous, Derek would reach out without fail and give him a small touch for a
fraction of a second. Stiles’ body would react for him, calming down just a bit
and in some cases, even relaxing into the touch, moving towards it. It was then
that Stiles would disappear into his mind, trying to figure out what the hell
was going on.
He found himself being shoved into a dressing room with probably half the store
in his arms. Stiles almost groaned, but he kept it in. He didn’t want to seem
ungrateful. He honestly felt a little guilty that they were doing so much for
him and he didn’t even plan on staying. He would have to do something in return
for them before he left. Say thank you somehow. Pushing it out of his mind for
now, Stiles tried on outfit after outfit, seeing what sizes fit, getting
scolded by Kenna for putting things that didn’t match together, fighting a
blush on his face if he felt he looked particularly ridiculous.
“Are we done now?” Stiles asked, pushing open the curtain for the last time.
This was the last pair of jeans he had to try on. He still had the button down
from the previous few times on, though this time it was hanging open in hopes
to be taken off quickly if Kenna said they were finished.
“Lift and turn,” Kenna said, gesturing with her finger for Stiles to spin
slowly. She made him do this for every pair of pants. Stiles didn’t understand.
These were only jeans, and skinny jeans at that. They did feel a little too
tight. Still, he lifted the edges of the shirt enough so that Kenna could see
the waistband, and probably a sliver of his back and turned. Kenna made noises
that may or may not have been approval, surprising Stiles by saying, “What do
you think, Derek?” Derek hadn’t spoken all during this process, letting Kenna
work through every item of clothing on her own and decide whether or not it
worked. “Turn again, Stiles,” she said, telling him to stop when his back was
facing them. Stiles felt suspiciously like he was being ogled at, but he knew
that it was a joke at most so he just sighed and waited.
Derek was pretty sure he knew what Kenna was doing. Kenna had to have seen how
Derek looked at Stiles with affection, which was stupid because Stiles had only
been with them for a day. It made zero sense for him to have formed any kind of
attachment to him. But there it was. Derek knew that the more time he spent
with Stiles the more his attachment would strengthen and feelings would grow
and that was really, really dangerous for him considering what had happened the
last time he'd fallen in love with a human. It was the reason Derek hated
Deucalion with such a passion.
So Kenna was dressing Stiles up and making him parade around for the sake of
"fashion" and maybe that was part of it but Kenna was looking at him for
reactions much more often than she should be. She was parading Stiles in front
of Derek so she could confirm her suspicions that he liked him or was at least
attracted to him which duh. Stiles was... god he was very much Derek's type.
His sisters were never going to let him live it down once they met Stiles and
found out how much Derek had overbid on him; doubling the starting price right
off the bat just so that Deucalion wouldn't have him.
When Kenna asked his opinion, Derek spluttered softly and forced his eyes away
from Stiles' ass that he'd been very unsubtly staring at each time Stiles came
out. His gaze was drawn to Stiles' smooth pale skin and Derek bit hard at the
inside of his cheek, drawing blood and having it heal instantly. He blew out a
breath and let himself look for a little bit too long before looking away, tips
of his ears beet red. He cleared his throat and nodded, rubbing the back of his
neck. "They, uh, they look- you look...good, Stiles," he answered with a nod,
chancing a glance at the human again. "Really... yeah. So shoes now?"
Kenna rolled her eyes and shook her head, nudging Stiles back into the dressing
room. "Hardly. We're buying an entire wardrobe here, Der-Bear. We have his
sizes and now we have to go find more things in the right sizes. It's still
pretty warm out but it's gonna be winter soon so we may as well get him some
clothes for when it starts to cool down. Shirts and sweaters and everything.
We'll get him a nice vest and a tie for when we go over to your parents' for
dinner. You know how they like us to present ourselves for that. Laura likes to
complain about it. Loudly."
Derek sighed but couldn't exactly disagree. Usually he could get away with
jeans and a button down and a blazer, thankfully. He hated wearing suits, would
prefer to be comfortable. Actually he would prefer to be allowed to show up at
his parents' house for dinner in sweats and not have an eye batted at him. But
his mom liked them to dress nicely for dinner. Outside of their every-other-
Friday dinners and holidays, they didn't care what was worn.
Stiles let out an audible groan this time when he heard Kenna say that they had
to go back out and get more things to try on. He was so completely done with
clothes. He never wanted wear clothes again for the rest of his life he was so
worn out. As soon as he was back in Derek’s borrowed clothes, Kenna came into
the dressing room and started separating things into piles. What fit and looked
good went in one pile while what didn’t fit or didn’t look good went in
another. The pile of things that fit was pretty large.
“Derek, ask someone to hold this dressing room for us?” Kenna called out while
she was separating, “We have too many things to just carry around the store and
it would be easier to leave it all here.” Against his will, Stiles did feel a
little nervous with the fact that Derek wasn’t standing outside the dressing
room anymore. Though he didn’t understand it and wasn’t sure he wanted to, he
did feel a bit calmer when Derek was around. He didn’t have too long to think
about it though because seconds later a pile of clothes was thrust into his
arms. “Go put this on the cart at the entrance to the dressing room,” she said,
“So that they know they can put these away since we’re not taking them.” Stiles
followed her instructions, and in the few seconds it took him to do that, Derek
was back with an employee that was reserving the dressing room for them. The
three exited the dressing room and Kenna dragged the boys around the store
again.
“I really don’t think I’m ever going to be able to wear all this,” Stiles said
around the pile of shirts in his hands. He had been assigned shirts and Derek
had been assigned pants.
“Of course you will,” Kenna said, waving him off, “Unless you plan on getting
fat, in which case you should tell us now.”
“I’m not gonna get fat,” Stiles muttered, pouting without even realizing. She
had a point though, and Stiles would have to make sure he kept up some form of
exercise while he was here so he didn’t go soft. He couldn’t have himself go
back out there just to get winded from a little run. He wondered if there was
somewhere safe that he could go for a jog. As long as he was without weapons,
other werewolves were a very real threat to be taken very seriously.
“Okay, now we just need some nicer clothes, something to wear for special
occasions,” Kenna said. She took the pile from Stiles’ arms and deposited it on
top of Derek’s pile. “Go put those in the dressing room, please, and make sure
to keep it separate from the pile he tried on already,” she instructed, “Stiles
and I will meet you there in a moment.” It was clear that Kenna was very much
in charge in this situation. She whisked Stiles away to where the suits and
button downs were and picked out three different outfits. Something extremely
fancy, something moderately fancy, and something casually fancy. Stiles didn’t
really understand the difference while she was talking. All he knew was that
one of pairs of pants was bright red, with a waistcoat to match, and he wasn’t
so sure about that. Kenna directed him back towards the dressing room where
Derek was waiting and nudged him through the curtain.
“What do you want me to try on first?” he asked, staring at the mountain of
clothes he was meant to wear.
“The suits,” she said easily, “But tell me when you’re finished so I can come
in and make sure you did it right.” Kenna did that for every suit, giving Derek
a grin as she made sure he didn’t even catch a glimpse. As far as she was
concerned, Stiles’ nice clothes were going to be a surprise for the werewolf
whenever he wore them. After that, it proceeded much like the first time.
Stiles would put on two items of clothing, Kenna would give a nod or a shake of
her head, and they would move on. Stiles nearly cheered when they were finished
and he could get back into Derek’s clothes and never look at a pair of pants
again.
Derek was honestly itching to see what Stiles looked like in those suits, to
see the way the trouser pants would hug his hips and ass and thighs and the
vests would emphasize his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The thought of
Stiles in a suit did something very shocking - but not entirely unexpected if
he thinks about it - to Derek and he found himself wanting, very acutely, to
touch and hold and have. And that was one hundred percent not allowed. Well, it
was allowed in the eyes of the law but Derek couldn't, shouldn't want Stiles
like that. It was wrong. Stiles was sixteen years old. Derek couldn't ruin him
like that. The thought of touching Stiles like that sent his brain warring
inside, torn between arousal and disgust at himself for even thinking that he
had any right to him. It didn't help that he was completely wrapped in Derek's
scent, making Derek inhale and think mine.
When they were finally done, when their pile of 'yes' clothes was a great deal
bigger than their 'no' pile and Stiles came out wrapped in Derek's clothes,
Derek simultaneously relaxed and itched to touch. He shoved his hands deep into
his pockets so he wouldn't do anything risky. "I'll, uh, I'll get someone to
come get the clothes, hold them for us behind the register until we're ready to
go," he said before scurrying away and completely ignoring Kenna's knowing
smirk.
"Okay, now shoes," she told him with a nod and a smile. "Those are easier,
don't worry. Boys don't need a lot of shoes at least. You'll need a pair of
black dress shoes and brown dress shoes, probably a pair or two of comfortable
tennis shoes or Converse of some sort. Do you like sandals? We'll get a pair of
sandals just in case."
Derek reappeared with a small blonde woman trailing behind him and staring very
obviously at his ass. She brushed Derek's arm and shoulder much more than
necessary but he just looked uncomfortable and stiff as he asked her to hold
the clothes behind the register. She purred and simpered and Derek sent Kenna a
wide eyed look begging for help, just like he always did when women were trying
to get at him. She sighed silently and gave him a look like this was a huge
hardship and then put on a huge grin.
"Okay, honey, let's move onto the shoe section, shall we?" Kenna suggested,
reaching for Derek and sliding her hand down his arm over the places the woman
had touched before lacing their fingers. "We've got to get back home so we can
fix dinner for the kids. You know how they get. C'mon, Stiles." Kenna held onto
Derek's arm and pulled Stiles by the wrist as the blonde woman looked almost
devastated watching Derek get away like that.
As soon as they were away out of earshot, Derek relaxed and Kenna let go,
straightening her top and giving Derek a look. "I really hate when women do
that," Derek grumbled softly, face scrunched up like he'd just been doused in
green slime or something just as disgusting. "It makes me feel dirty."
Stiles listened to Kenna talk about the shoes, glad that he wouldn’t need that
much. Hopefully this should go quickly. Stiles was starting to get really
hungry and he was definitely looking to get some lunch. When Derek returned
with a rather attractive blonde employee, he couldn’t help but notice the way
she was all over him. It was kind of gross, the way that she was completely
throwing herself at him. I mean, yes Derek was irrationally attractive, but
that wasn’t an excuse to be disgustingly shallow. Stiles found himself becoming
angry for almost no reason, his jaw clenched as he watched with narrowed eyes.
“They’re the ones that should feel dirty,” he muttered to himself, forgetting
that there was a large chance that Derek had easily heard him. He had no idea
why he felt like this. He had no reason to, no right to. He was glad when Kenna
solved the problem, pulling both of them away so Stiles wouldn’t have to think
about it anymore. “So shoes and then lunch please?” Stiles said, casting a
quick glance at Derek and then Kenna. As if trying to prove that he was hungry,
Stiles’ stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, causing an embarrassed flush
to color his cheeks.
“Sure,” Kenna said with a laugh, “We can get the things for your room after
lunch then. Have you decided what you think you want?”
“I don’t know,” Stiles said with a loose shrug of his shoulders, a noncommittal
teenage tone to his voice.
“Well you should probably think about it,” Kenna smiled, “It’s your room after
all.” Stiles just gave her a weak smile. If everything went according to plan,
it would only be Stiles’ room for about a month or so. He felt bad even
thinking that now. Kenna and Derek have been so kind to him, giving him
everything without even hesitating, trying their hardest to make him
comfortable and Stiles was just going to throw it all away. He had to remind
himself that his father was out there without him. That should be all the
motivation he needed.
“Hey, this is going to sound weird, but what day of the week is it?” Stiles
asked. They had no way to keep track of that in the encampment, and it was
never very important to Stiles. He never had a reason to keep track of the days
of the week, just the full moon. Kenna had said something earlier about some
sort of family dinner on Friday and Stiles wanted to know how soon he had to
prepare himself for something like that.
“It’s Thursday,” Kenna said, scanning the shelves for the types of shoes that
Stiles would need after taking a glance at Stiles’ feet and guessing towards
his size. Stiles tripped over his own feet in surprise, falling flat on his
face. Typical. He had one day before walking into a den full of werewolves,
unprotected and probably wearing a suit.
“Great,” he mumbled, not even bothering to get up as he lay there in defeat.
It’s not like he really needed to get up. Kenna seemed to be doing fine without
him, already amassing what seemed to be a wall of shoeboxes. She was scarily
good at shopping.
Derek's lips curled up at the corners at Stiles' comment about the others who
should feel dirty, not Derek, and he nudged his elbow against Stiles' very
briefly. He followed Kenna along as she and Stiles spoke, agreeing with having
lunch before doing anymore shopping. Because Derek was pretty hungry too
considering he'd not eaten a lot of his breakfast.
When Stiles fell over Derek startled and crouched down as Kenna kept on moving,
completely unsympathetic and unflinching. Derek looked down at him with some
level of concern and some level of amusement and he furrowed his brows. "Are
you okay down there?" he asked before offering Stiles a hand. And if he let his
grip linger just a touch too long well Stiles probably didn't even notice
right? Didn't notice how Derek's thumb pressed against the inside of his wrist
just to feel his pulse, the way his blood drummed through his body, alight with
life. Derek wanted. So he pulled away and took a half step back just as Kenna
came by and dumped several shoe boxes in his arms.
"Have Stiles try these on then let me know his correct size," she told him
before disappearing into the aisles again, completely and utterly unconcerned
that she was a mere human in a building full of werewolves. Kenna was strong
and fearless and though she knew what other werewolves were capable of other
werewolves also knew that the Hales were very protective of their humans and so
would never dare to touch one if they knew what was good for them.
Derek sighed and sent Stiles an apologetic look but led the way to the bench
and then started to take lids off shoe boxes, taking out the tissue from inside
and handing them to Stiles one by one to try on. They figured out he's a ten
and a half and Kenna swept away all of the boxes of shoes in the wrong size and
reappeared with different ones in the right sizes. "Just walk a few steps to
make sure they're comfortable," she told him and folded her arms, leaning
against Derek's side when the blonde woman from before passed by them. Derek
put an arm around Kenna automatically but it didn't mean anything more than
familial love. There would never be anything more than that between them.
If Stiles’ pulse jumped when Derek took his hand and helped him up, that was a
private thing and there didn’t have to be any comments on it. It could easily
be written off as Stiles being nervous when Derek touched him or being
embarrassed from falling over in the first place. Stiles almost wanted to slap
himself across the face and snap himself out of it. Derek was a twenty three
year old werewolf. There was no chance in heaven or hell that he would want
Stiles. Not that Stiles wanted Derek to want him. The boy sat down with a thump
when Derek led him over to a bench, resisting the urge to put his head in his
hands. He was experiencing some severe emotional whiplash and it was definitely
not fun. Maybe he should do some research when they returned to the house.
Stiles tried on all the shoes that Kenna brought him, getting up and walking a
few steps like she wanted him to. They all felt a bit stiff, but he was told
that he would only need to break them in. He wasn’t used to having new shoes.
Besides the unyielding feeling, the shoes that Kenna brought him were
comfortable for the most part and he made sure to tell her. The quicker they
made decisions, the quicker Stiles got food. In the end, they got the two
different colors of dress shoes, the Converse sneakers, a pair of sandals, and
after a stammered request, a pair of running shoes. Stiles felt weird asking
for things, as though he shouldn’t, but he Kenna reassured him it was fine.
He and Derek carried the shoes while Kenna strode ahead of them confidently to
the register. Stiles could honestly say that he admired her attitude. She was
only human in a store filled to the brim with werewolves, not all of them like
Derek, but she held herself as an equal. It was nice to see. An employee rung
up everything at the counter and Stiles’ jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw
the final amount. It seemed he was the only one who was surprised. Before he
could even spit out some kind of protest, everything was paid for and they were
laden with bags. Stiles sighed. They were doing way too much for him.
“Hey, umm, I have to go to the bathroom,” Stiles said.
“Alright,” Kenna said with an understanding smile, seeming to catch on to how
overwhelmed Stiles was getting, “There’s a public restroom right there. We’ll
wait here.” Stiles turned and looked in the direction that she was pointing and
nodded. He left the bags he was carrying with them and made his way into the
men’s room. Luckily, it was empty.
“God, get it together Stiles,” he said firmly to his reflection, splashing a
little cool water on his face. He figured he may as well do what he said he was
going to do, so he went to relieve himself. Moments after he finished, the door
opened and a man entered. Not a man, a werewolf. He was huge, muscles bulging
with a shaved head. Stiles ignored the way his heartbeat shot up as he went to
wash his hands. He could swear that he felt eyes on him. When he was drying
them off, Stiles turned around against his better judgment. “Can I help you
with something?” Stiles asked, his mouth speaking before his brain could tell
him that that was a horrible idea. Seconds later, Stiles found himself pressed
up against the wall, a forearm crushing his throat.
“What makes you think you can talk to me like that?” the werewolf growled, eyes
flashing red, “It seems you weren’t trained very well.”
“Yeah well, dogs should know better than to jump on strangers,” Stiles wheezed
out, his eyes hard. The arm pressed harder against his throat, making it much
more difficult to breathe.
“Someone’s got balls,” the werewolf snarled.
“And someone’s about to lose theirs,” Stiles gasped, shoving his knee as hard
as he possibly could into the werewolf’s groin. Intimidation 101: Never leave
their legs free. The werewolf let out a pained howl and stumbled back. Advanced
healing or not, getting kneed was still going to hurt. As soon as Stiles was
dropped down, he made a dash for the door, ignoring the way he couldn’t
breathe. He didn’t run when he was outside, not wanting Derek and Kenna to know
that something was wrong, but he walked quickly over to them, reaching the pair
just as the enraged werewolf burst out of the bathroom, his eyes locking on
Stiles. He stalked up to Derek, eyes flashing angrily.
“You need to control your pet,” he spat at Derek.
Derek was wary of letting Stiles go into the restroom alone but figured it
would be crossing a line and pretty damn creepy too if he followed Stiles in so
he waited with Kenna. She patted his back and told him everything would be okay
and he tried to believe her, tried to calm down. He was finally starting to
relax when the bathroom door slammed open and Stiles power walked over to them,
smelling like terror and another alpha. Kenna reached out to pull Stiles behind
her immediately and Derek was going to demand questions but then the other
Alpha was there and he understood. Derek didn't even think before reacting,
getting a hand around the alpha's throat and slamming him into the nearest wall
hard enough that the plaster cracked. Derek was quicker and taller even if the
guy had more muscle on him but as soon as Derek had him by the throat two
inches from the ground with his knee digging into the guy's crotch the guy was
powerless.
"Call him a pet again and I will rip your balls from your body and feed them to
you," Derek snarled, eyes going red and ignoring the way a few werewolves came
over. "Do you have any idea who I am?" At the man's blank look Derek leaned in
to sniff and then a feral smirk stretched out his lips. "A stranger. Of course
you don't. Alpha Derek Hale," he said, emphasizing his last name and the man's
face went whiter than a ghost. "Son of Talia Hale. You touched someone who is
in my pack who didn't give you their permission, left bruises on him. I could
have you arrested," Derek snarled. The man swallowed audibly and tried to glare
but it was weak with fright. Derek stared at him for a long hard moment and
then his mother's voice came to his head just because you were born a predator
doesn't make you a killer. And he wouldn't kill this guy, no matter how much he
wanted to. He was furious at him for laying a hand on Stiles but he couldn't do
it. So he let the man drop to the floor like a ragdoll.
Kenna was standing bodily in front of Stiles, bags on the ground forgotten and
an arm curled behind her around Stiles' waist. She kept him close, ready to run
if Derek gave the signal. The other werewolves wouldn't dare touch them, not
after this. There was a reason that no one messed with the Hales and this was
exactly why. Or at least part of the reason. She watched as Derek crouched down
to mutter something too low for human ears to pick up and glanced back at
Stiles, squeezing him.
"If you ever come near one of my pack again - any of them - I will end your
entire line, do you understand me?" Derek growled softly and the man glared at
Derek but nodded his head. Derek snarled at him one more time and then stood
up, left him there. He took a deep breath and elongated canines retracted back
into his gums, claws shrank to human bluntness, and crimson eyes faded back to
green.
Kenna relaxed when Derek turned away from the alpha and came towards them. He
hesitated a few feet away, trying to gauge whether or not Stiles was afraid of
him. But when Derek looked at Stiles he wasn't the terrifying monster who'd
just held up a man against the wall, his expression was full of concern and
apologies, eyes soft and worried. "Stiles? Are you alright? Where did he hurt
you?" he asked, wanting to reach out and soothe, touch and reassure but he
still wasn't sure whether or not Stiles was afraid.
This was exactly what Stiles had wanted to avoid, people making a fuss. Derek
had nearly decapitated the alpha that Stiles had antagonized, something that
completely surprised the human. Despite the fact that Derek had already
demonstrated his protectiveness in front of Deucalion, this was different
somehow. This was just a little scuffle in the bathroom, there was no real
threat, and Stiles really was fine. Yet Derek had still reacted with the
severity and ferocity as though Stiles had been fatally injured.
Watching Derek partially shift to protect him was surreal. Stiles couldn’t look
away, completely captivated by the sight. He looked like a predator, as though
he could rip the man in half like he was a piece of paper and nothing more. It
was both reassuring and terrifying at the same time, but when Derek turned
around, Stiles found he wasn’t scared. That surprised him. For all his sarcasm
and bravery, it didn’t mean that he was not afraid. Werewolves honestly did
scare him; he just didn’t let his fear control his actions. The fact that Derek
didn’t scare him, even after seeing the man shift, was a little daunting and
Stiles definitely felt like he wanted to do some research on what was happening
here.
“I’m fine,” Stiles said, his voice a little rough. He coughed a bit to clear
his throat, “He just kind of introduced my neck to his arm and my back to the
wall.” He tried saying it in a nonchalant, vaguely funny way to show that he
really was fine. Yeah, his neck hurt a bit, but it wasn’t anything extreme. He
felt bad for worrying Derek and Kenna, both of which were staring at him with
concern. “I’m really fine guys,” he said, giving them a small, lopsided smile,
“It doesn’t even really hurt. If anything, I would say I did more damage to
him, even if it only lasted a few seconds. I got in a nice hit to his personal
bits.”
Stiles could see this strange expression on Derek’s face, as though he was
trying to keep himself from doing something. After a moment of careful
deliberation, Stiles reached out and clapped the werewolf on the shoulder
briefly, taking his hand back almost as quickly as it had been there. “I swear
I’m okay,” he said again.
“As long as you’re sure,” Kenna finally said, choosing to believe Stiles rather
than make a bigger deal out of this than she had to, “Why don’t we get lunch?”
Stiles gave her a nod and they all picked up their bags and such. He ended up
nearly sandwiched between Derek and Kenna as they walked. He almost wanted to
roll his eyes, but he knew they were just trying to protect him. A small smile
tugged at the corners of his lips without his permission.
Derek didn't really seem all to convinced that Stiles was okay and when the
younger man touched his shoulder Derek wanted to pull him in and hold him
tightly. He wanted to bury his face in the crook of Stiles' neck and make sure
he smelled like nobody else, take away any pair of slight discomfort he was
feeling. He wanted to have and touch and hold and take but he kept himself in
careful control. He's sixteen, he's sixteen, he doesn't want you, he's sixteen
and you're a monster, he thought over and over again like a mantra in his head
and it kept him level headed enough not to push his way into Stiles' personal
space anymore than Stiles allowed him to.
When they headed for the car, Derek made sure to keep close to Stiles and so
did Kenna. Derek hesitated and then just rested a hand on the small of Stiles'
back high enough that it wouldn't be considered inappropriate but low enough
that he could feel the soft curve of his spine that made Derek want to see what
it would feel like under his mouth. Thankfully they were at the car and Derek
opened the door for Stiles before helping Kenna put all of their shopping bags
in the bed of the truck, locking the cover back in place so no one could steal
it while they were at lunch and also so that nothing would fly out from the
wind while they were driving.
Kenna decided she wanted American food so Derek headed for Armadillo Cafe,
which offered a wide range of foods to choose from. Kenna flounced into the
place like she owned it and inhaled happily, smelling all the different
delicious choices. While it was nice for her it was very overwhelming for
Derek, the smell of the oil from the fryers and vinegar from pickles and the
garbage piling up in the cans. He didn't know how werewolves managed to work
there or even come there to eat.
He felt like he was going to be ill and maybe would've offered to go get a
table on the patio - the smell wasn't usually so bad - but after what happened
at the shop, Derek wasn't going to leave Stiles- leave either of them alone.
Even though he knew Kenna was more than capable of taking care of herself. So
he stood in line and breathed in as little as possible. Kenna put in her order
- a grilled chicken Caesar salad with a side basket of fried pickles - and
waved for Stiles to go next. When he was done Derek ordered his meal - a bacon
burger and fried pickles instead of fries and a big glass of tea and then paid
the woman, gathering their drinks and their order number and then practically
herding the two humans outside to the patio. He took a deep breath of fresh air
and tried to push the nausea down so he'd be able to eat.
Just like when Stiles had felt Derek touch him inside the clothing store, he
relaxed into the warm hand on his back before even realizing what he was doing.
It just seemed so natural, so instinctual that Stiles should feel calm and
relaxed when Derek touched him. He wanted to know why. His mind briefly
considered Stockholm syndrome but he quickly dismissed that because the last
thing that Derek acted like was a captor. Derek treated him like an equal,
protected him like family, and provided for him like pack. Had this been more
of a master and victim situation, Stiles definitely would have gone for
Stockholm as the explanation, but this was more complex than that. They walked
in the same sandwich formation on the way to the little café from the car and
this time Stiles didn’t hide his eye roll.
“I told you guys I’m fine,” he said, false exasperation coloring his tone.
“Tell that to the bruises on your neck,” Kenna said easily, looping her arm
through Stiles’ own. On a reflex, one of Stiles’ hands went up to feel around
his neck. It was a little tender, but he doubted it was more than slightly
colored skin, nothing like dark purple bruises that he had been sporting at the
auction house.
Immediately upon entering the restaurant, Stiles could smell all different
kinds of food. He knew that if he could smell it, Derek had to be choking on
it. One glance back at the werewolf proved him correct. Derek looked as though
he had swallowed something disgusting and was trying his hardest not to
regurgitate it. Stiles ordered his food quickly when he was ushered forward- a
regular cheeseburger and fries with a soda. Moments later, he and Kenna were
whisked outside and Derek was inhaling like a drowning man.
“You okay there big guy?” Stiles asked, brows raised, a slight smile on his
lips as he gave Derek a little nudge with his elbow. It was almost definitely
because of Derek’s display of extreme protectiveness, but Stiles felt a little
safer around the werewolf. He felt like maybe he could joke around a little
now, not be as wary as he was before. His mind was nearly screaming at him that
he shouldn’t be forming any kind of attachments to these people, but Stiles
couldn’t help it. He was a naturally social person and there was no way he
would survive if he didn’t allow himself contact with other people. Besides,
how was he supposed to ignore people that were so unnecessarily kind to him? He
had known Derek and Kenna for less than a week still, and they had gone out of
their way more than once to make sure that he was comfortable and had
everything he needed. Stiles didn’t understand why, but it made it almost
impossible to hate either of them, no matter how hard he tried.
Kenna chuckled at Derek sticking his nose up in the wind like a hound dog
searching for a scent but she didn't say anything as she chose a table with an
umbrella that provided a bit of shade from the bright sun. It was a beautiful
day outside, the sky a clear deep blue and the sun shining though it wasn't
hot. It was early April in the upper seventies with a warm breeze blowing and
Kenna felt good. She took off her sweater she was wearing and laid it across
the bench beside her with her purse so that Derek and Stiles would have to sit
next to each other on the other side. Derek gave her a suspicious look before
sitting down and then glanced at Stiles when he was nudged.
He just rolled his eyes at the human and bumped their shoulders back again
gently, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself and he knew
Kenna hadn't missed it. "How about I give you the extra strength olfactory
senses and you can go back in there feeling like you're inhaling liquid peanut
oil and vinegar," he responded sarcastically. Obviously that couldn't happen
but even if it could, Derek wouldn't bestow that particular nightmare on
Stiles. No one deserved that. Derek inhaled deeply again though and this time
he smelt Kenna; a soft floral scent like freesia and gardenia and sunflowers
with something like fresh turned earth. It was pleasant of course, compared to
the foul scent inside. But closer and stronger than that was his own scent
mixing around Stiles' and it made his stomach coil tight with want; his own
earthy musky scent like redwood and the smell of the air after its just rained
and ozone mixed with Stiles' mouthwatering lime and Macintosh apple scent.
Derek wanted to roll around in it until they smelled the same and no one could
tell them apart.
He opened his eyes to realize he had leaned quite a bit into Stiles' space and
the realization made him flush heavily and pull back quickly with his ears
burning red. "I am- I'm so sorry. I got a little, ah, carried away," he
apologized sheepishly while Kenna tried to hold back quiet little laughs.
"That's Derek's way of saying that you smell good," Kenna supplied with a wide
smug grin and Derek just sank a little lower, shoulders hunching up around his
ears and looking incredibly dejected and apologetic as he mumbled another
embarrassed 'I'm sorry'.
Stiles had laughed at Derek’s sarcastic response, not having known that the
werewolf could even be sarcastic. He hadn’t seen too much evidence of a
personality from Derek, save for his extreme kindness and generosity and his
fierce protectiveness. He liked getting to see a little more of the man, no
matter how much his head told him it was a bad idea. Stiles watched Derek
inhale another breath of fresh air and he found himself wondering what smells
Derek could scent out here. He wondered what he smelled like to the werewolf,
what Kenna smelled like. His train of thought was cut off by the realization
that Derek was leaning towards him, eyes closed, as though he was completely
focused. He was about six inches from Stiles’ body, face heading for the boy’s
neck before he opened his eyes and realized what had happened. Stiles’ face had
flushed red, his lips parting on instinct without him noticing. He turned away
the same time that Derek did, though there should be nothing for him to be
embarrassed about.
“It’s fine,” he said in response to Derek’s multiple apologies. He felt like he
was saying that a lot around these two. It was funny. Stiles was constantly
reassuring them, when in any normal situation one would think it would have to
be the opposite. “It’s a pack thing right?” Stiles asked, turning his head to
look at Derek, “Like scenting? Or is this just smelling? Is scenting like
mixing scents by touching? I was never really clear on the definitions. I mean,
you can if you have to. Scent, I mean. Or is it smell? I just, I mean, your
pack instinct, and safer, and I just, yeah. I’ll be quiet now.” Stiles face was
spectacularly red and he wasn’t entirely sure what he had just given Derek
permission to do, but if his information was reliable, then any scent or
whatever that Derek got from him or placed on him should help keep him safe
from other werewolves. Kenna was trying not to laugh on her side of the table.
It was interesting, watching the two boys fumble. It was easy to see that
Stiles was extremely confused by his own reactions and yet still desired to
touch and be close whether he could see it himself or not. Derek knew exactly
what was going on and it was painfully easy to see how hard he was fighting it.
Kenna found it kind of cute, in a frustrating way. She was eager to see how it
would unfold and how they would eventually figure things out, and she was
content to help them along in whatever small way she could.
Derek peered over at Stiles as he kept asking questions, wondering if it was
just a pack thing, if Derek's instincts commanded it, if it needed to be done.
He was giving Derek permission, Derek was pretty sure, permission to touch and
scent like Derek wanted to but... But he wasn't sure if he started touching
whether he'd be able to stop. His fingers twitched on the table, eager to feel,
so Derek pulled them down safely into his lap. "It's...a pack thing yes but
it's not completely instinct. The wolf side of me...is telling me that I should
because it'll mark you as one of us. But it's the human side of me that's
telling me that...uh, that I want to," he said slowly, thinking that he hadn't
quite explained that right. "It's like. My instinct is telling me the logic but
my...gut is telling me the feeling." He didn't want to say his heart because
that would just be a little too sappy and romantic for everyone. Derek and
Stiles were both bright red already and when their order number was up so was
Derek volunteering to get it.
Kenna just observed quietly with a small interested expression on her face.
Derek was ignoring his instincts around Stiles, trying to suppress them. Kenna
knew Derek long enough to read body language and he definitely wanted to hold
and touch and scent Stiles. But for whatever reason held himself back. Kenna
was pretty sure it was because he didn't want to scare Stiles, that he was
afraid Stiles would think he was a monster like he feared himself to be and was
trying to hide that. But Derek wasn't a monster and Kenna knew that.
Derek came back with their food and passed it out, sitting down next to Stiles
a little more closely than before but if he did it on purpose or noticed he
didn't say anything or correct himself, just picked up his burger to take a big
bite. He glanced at Stiles from the corner of his eyes and flushed lightly,
wanting to touch but holding back. Instead he let his knee bump against Stiles'
under the table "accidentally" and then hide a smile in his burger. He liked
being close to Stiles. It made him feel relaxed and good. He didn't understand
why thought and made a mental note to speak with Deaton.
Stiles didn’t quite understand what Derek was trying to explain, and he simply
added it to the list of things he was going to do some research on when they
finally returned home. The thought hit Stiles like a train. Home. He just
called Derek’s house his home. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he had
considered somewhere home. He was so caught up in this realization that he
barely noticed when Derek fled the table to get their food. Putting this
together with the way that he was acting around Kenna and Derek, Stiles could
only come to one definite conclusion. He was completely screwed.
Stiles tore into his food, needing the distraction. It was a good burger and
the fries were perfectly cooked as well. The only thing that would make it
better was if they were curly fries. He had a mouthful of food when he felt
Derek’s knee nudge gently against his own. He couldn’t tell if it had been done
on purpose or not, but nonetheless it caused Stiles’ cheeks to go a little
pink. He had just gotten rid of the blush on his face too. Stiles spread his
own legs a bit so that his and Derek’s knees continued to touch under the
table. A stupid little smile spread across his face as he continued to eat.
“So,” Kenna said with a smile, effectively popping their little bubble made for
two, “Stiles, have you thought about what you want to do with your room?”
Stiles finished his mouthful and thought for a moment, trying to quickly come
up with an idea.
“Maybe yellow for the walls?” he finally said, phrasing it like a question
instead of a statement, “A pale yellow. Like… firelight through a canvas tarp.”
That was what they used to pitch the few tents they could manage in the winter,
and Stiles’ father always put them closer to the fire pit, so when Stiles went
to sleep he would watch the shifting firelight glowing through the tarp. Maybe
painting his room that color would make him feel more comfortable. “And… dark
blue on the ceiling. Like the night sky in the forest,” he added. He couldn’t
really think about anything else he wanted to change. He didn’t want to get any
unnecessary furniture or anything like that.
Derek smiled into his burger when Stiles pressed his knee back against Derek's
so Derek pressed a little as well so there was a firm pressure there even if
they didn't look at each other or acknowledge it in any way. It made something
in Derek's chest settle though and he relaxed a bit closer to Stiles. When
Kenna spoke up Derek glanced at her and then at Stiles curiously for his
answer. He thought those colors would look nice together.
"We could get some of those plastic glow in the dark stars if you like," Derek
offered but then Kenna perked up excitedly.
"Oh, or we could buy some glow in the dark paint. You could let me paint the
ceiling with trees and stuff like you're actually looking up from the forest
and I could do the constellations for you. I've been trying to come up with
inspiration to paint," she said, face alight with happiness. It was obvious
that she was thrilled with Stiles' presence, liking that she would have extra
company around or company at all for when Derek had to work and she was usually
left to her own devises.
Derek smiled at her encouragingly and glanced at Stiles to see what he thought
of the idea. Maybe it could be good. Derek was still scared Stiles would try to
run. It was obvious that he'd been on the run before he'd been taken to be
auctioned and he kept saying 'we' so obviously he left someone behind. Derek
was scared Stiles would try to go back and he didn't want to lose Stiles or let
him put himself in that sort of danger. He didn't know how to broach the topic
though without having Stiles put his walls up.
Stiles was surprised by Kenna's enthusiasm but he smiled nonetheless. Part of
him was worried that it would make him even more "homesick" and would make him
miss his father even more. Still, Kenna was so excited and it couldn't really
do any harm. Stiles wouldn't have to look at the ceiling if he didn't want to.
A brief thought was spared to where he would sleep while his room was
undergoing this transformation but he figured that was something that could be
worried about later.
"I would be honored," Stiles said with a grin and he really was. He had seen
Kenna's walls and they were amazing. He knew that whatever she did to his
ceiling would turn out phenomenal.
"Great," Kenna said with a wide grin, "We can start tonight, but we won't be
able to keep working until Saturday. Dinner on Friday usually calls for
attendance around three." Stiles gave her a nod and tried to ignore the way his
heartbeat went up a bit. Stiles tried to think of something else to distract
him, anything else really. Just something so that Derek wouldn't notice the
quick change in his heart rate. Of course, thinking of Derek brought Stiles'
attention to where their knees were pressed gently together and that only made
it worse. It made his stomach flip flop and his face heat up and he wanted to
know why. The conversation went on without him, mostly without Derek as well as
Kenna listed everything she would need, using artistic terms that Stiles didn't
understand but nodded along to anyway. He continued to eat his food and if he
shifted minutely closer to Derek once while he was doing it, no one had to
know.
***** Chapter 4 *****
They finished up their lunch and Kenna got up, eager to get to the store and
choose colors. She led the way, walking down the sidewalk with purpose, leaving
Stiles and Derek to trail along behind her. Again Stiles found himself admiring
her confidence. A large group of werewolves passed them, laughing amongst
themselves. Kenna didn't even flinch, moving to the side slightly so they could
pass by each other. Stiles, walking beside Derek, had nowhere to go except into
the older man. He tried to skirt in front of Derek but he didn't quite make it
before the group reached them. Somehow they managed to shove Stiles out of the
way without touching him at all, something the human decided then and there
that he wanted to learn. Of course, at the moment he was a little more
preoccupied with the way he had stumbled back into Derek, pressing against the
older man's body as they passed by.
"Sorry," he mumbled, a light splash of color staining his cheeks.
Derek finished his meal in a good mood, Stiles' leg pressed up against his own
and less space between them than they started out with, Kenna's happy voice
chattering away as she ate her fried pickles. He gathered and tossed their
trash and then let Kenna lead the way back to the lot, thankful that they could
go around and not have to go through the building.
Derek tensed a little at the group of other wolves but they pretty much kept to
themselves other than taking up a lot of room. So when Stiles did his best to
avoid them and ended up stumbling back into Derek's back, Derek couldn't help
the fact that his arm went up automatically so his hand rested on Stiles' hip
and held him close until the werewolves had past and they could continue on.
Derek's fingers flexed and his blood seared in his veins. He wanted to be
allowed to do this whenever he wanted. He swallowed thickly and listened to
Stiles' rabbiting heart and lingered just a bit too long.
“That's okay," Derek said in a low slightly scratchy voice a little too close
to Stiles' ear. He stayed where he was for another second before carefully
removing his hand and taking a step back, clearing his throat as his ears and
neck flushed crimson. Kenna was standing by the car, staring at them with
pursed lips and raised eyebrows, arms lightly folded over her ribs. "Shall we,
umm," Derek made a vague motion with his hand to the car that he hoped Stiles
would understand meant 'continue to the car' because Derek's brain was
scrambled from having Stiles so close and he didn't have any words left in him.
All Stiles could do at Derek’s suggestion was nod. He walked over to where
Kenna was waiting by the car, a little bit dazed. Derek’s hand had felt warm
and sure where it had landed on his hip, holding him securely and safely until
the other werewolves passed them by. This kind of reaction was definitely not
typical and Stiles wanted to find out why he was acting like this. Derek
touching him shouldn’t be the most wonderful thing that he could remember
experiencing, and yet here he was thinking just that. Part of him just wanted
to blame hormones and being a teenage boy and Derek being attractive, but he
knew there had to be more than that. When the car was unlocked, Stiles slipped
into the backseat, Kenna and Derek sitting in the front.
“So hardware store and then back to the house,” Stiles asked, his voice just a
little bit squeaky sounding. He could still hear Derek’s words echoing in his
ear, his voice low. Stiles’ eyes threatened to flutter shut but he kept them
almost stubbornly open.
“That’s right,” Kenna confirmed, “Unless Derek needs to buy anything else.” She
turned to look at the werewolf in the driver’s seat, expecting him to say that
he didn’t need anything just like always.
Stiles hoped they returned soon. Unless he was required to help do something
with the painting in his room, like cover furniture or something, he was
completely planning on spending the rest of the night in the library with the
books and his new laptop, trying to figure out what was going on. The thought
of where he would be sleeping crossed his mind again, but knowing Stiles, he
would probably fall asleep on one of the comfy chairs in the library.
Derek thought about it and then shrugged. "I'm just going to get some more
lumber. I need some more bookcases for my room," he answered as he started the
car and tried his best to forget the way Stiles' body had felt pressed against
his, the way he could feel Stiles' heartbeat against his own chest. His hands
tightened a bit on the steering wheel but he forced himself to relax and forget
about it. He wasn't allowed and Stiles didn't like him. Even if he was starting
to warm up to Derek he probably wanted someone his own age, a nice girl too
probably.
"Are you gonna do those shelves that you wanted to do under your windows with
the cushions on top so you could sit there?" Kenna asked curiously as she
settled in against the door frame so she could see both Derek and Stiles at
once.
Derek nodded and changed lanes to take the next turn, almost to the hardware
store. "Yea, I think I need more stain and lacquer though. I'll get the stuff
for the upholstery later when they're finished. I thought I'd build them deep
and do bookshelves on the sides and have some storage on top in the back," he
answered absently, pulling into the lot of the large store and circling until
he found a spot to park. He cut the engine and got out, opening Stiles' door
for him with a small smile.
Stiles wished that he was paying attention so that it wouldn’t be so obvious so
he was doing the exact opposite. He spent basically the entire ride to the
hardware store sitting in the back of the car, daydreaming. He would never
admit that was what he was doing, but he found himself thinking about Derek a
lot more than he should have been, especially considering their situation and
Stiles’ plan to leave.
He returned Derek’s smile, equally as tentative but sure as he stepped out of
the car, shoving his hands in the pockets of Derek’s pants. He was glad that he
had his own things to wear at least. Some of it would be very helpful, and he
would have to look around for a duffel bag of some kind to bring some of it
with him.
“Are we going to be able to fit everything we need in the car?” Stiles heard
himself asking, “I mean, you guys wasted a lot of space on my clothes.” It was
true, his clothing took up a majority of the trunk and he had heard Derek
mention something about lumber. He didn’t think all that would fit.
“Bigger items can be shipped to the house,” Kenna explained as they walked
towards the store. She took a quick glance at her watch. “I want to make some
headway on your room tonight, Stiles, so we should try and get home soon. We
should probably split up and take care of what we need.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?” Stiles blurted out before he could stop himself,
immediately remembering his little encounter in the restroom.
“This is a local hardware store,” Kenna sad with a laugh, “Derek and I have
been here loads of times, and they all know who I am. Still, if you would feel
better we can all stay together, or you can go with Derek.”
Derek listened to Kenna and then shook his head. "Stiles can stay with me. I
don't want to risk something else happening," he said, shifting closer Stiles
as he spoke and looking around. Kenna would be fine he knew, she was a fast
runner if needed and resourceful. Plus she had werewolf mace from Deaton and
smelled enough like Derek that she could be mistaken for a werewolf. Stiles,
even though he smelled like Derek from their brief touches and Derek's clothes,
only smelled superficially like werewolves. Once he spent long enough at
Derek's house and around the others, it would sink in more and eventually
become part of his scent like it had with Kenna's. No one would mistake Stiles
for a werewolf and after the clothing store, Derek wanted him close.
"Okay," Kenna said with a nod and pulled out a sheet of paper from her pocket
that she'd written down a list on. She studied it and then tore it carefully,
handing the smaller piece to Derek. "You guys get that stuff plus whatever you
need for your shelves. I'll get what I need and we'll meet in the main aisle by
register ten okay?" Derek looked down at the items on the list and nodded.
"Okay, sure," he answered and then offered the paper to Stiles to look at -
paint, brushes, tarps, tape, trays, rollers - looking at Kenna he gave her a
serious look. "If you need anything, you know the signal. I'll keep tabs on
your heartbeat."
Kenna just waved a hand and nodded, motioning him away. "Everyone knows me
here, Derek. And I smell like you. No one will touch me," she told him and got
on her toes to kiss Derek's cheek, ruffling his hair and then looking at
Stiles. "Keep Derek out of trouble okay? Don't let him buy anything he doesn't
need," she teased because Derek never bought anything for himself that wasn't
absolutely necessary despite how much money he had. "Register ten," she
repeated and then disappeared through the aisles.
Derek watched her go, pin pointing her heartbeat and keeping it in the back of
his mind before turning to Stiles. "Where do you want to start?" he asked
gently, leaving it to Stiles to decide as he took a step away to grab a cart in
an awful gaudy orange color.
Stiles leaned a little closer to Derek so he could scan his eyes over the list.
His gaze flicked up to the aisles that marked where certain items were. It took
him a moment to decide, but he figured they could start with what was closest
and work their way out and then just come back and wait for Kenna where she
said. Whether they started with the far away things or the close ones, they
would have to walk the same amount, so it honestly didn’t make all that much of
a difference to Stiles.
“The light bulbs are closest,” Stiles said, giving a nod towards the sign two
aisles away that listed that particular item. He and Derek made their way into
the aisle, scanning the shelves until they found the exact bulbs that Kenna had
listed in her graceful handwriting. He trusted that she would be okay, but he
wondered what the signal was that Derek had mentioned. He opened his mouth to
ask when an employee, whose tag read Jake, appeared out of nowhere. He was
probably nineteen at the most and Stiles looked up to find, with surprise, that
he was looking directly at him. He was tall, blonde hair styled to look as
though he had just rolled out of bed, with blue eyes. Despite the ugly work
vest he was wearing, Stiles had to admit that he was actually kind of hot.
“Hi, is there anything I can help you with?” Jake asked, a friendly smile on
his face, looking directly at Stiles as he spoke. It took the human a moment to
realize that Jake was actually talking to him and not Derek.
“I umm, no I think we’re okay,” Stiles said, completely caught off guard by the
fact that he was being addressed directly, glancing back at Derek for a moment
who was looking at Jake now as well. He hadn’t thought that werewolves were
really like that, besides Derek of course but he was a special case. He didn’t
see the way that Jake was staring at him like he was something delicious to
snack on.
“Well, feel free to find me if you need anything,” Jake said, “I’m sure I’ll be
able to help.” Stiles gave a bewildered nod. He didn’t notice the way that
Jake’s eyes slid up and down his body, practically undressing him with his
eyes.
Derek nodded at Stiles' suggestion and they headed to the right aisle, side by
side. Derek had just taken a six-pack of the light bulbs Kenna wanted from the
shelf when a voice appeared. Derek turned to answer only to see the werewolf
looking at Stiles like he was something he wanted to eat. Derek glared but the
man didn't pose a direct threat of violence so Derek couldn't exactly throw him
across the store like he wanted to. That was probably overreacting considering
that the guy was really just doing what Derek was doing but being not at all
subtle about it like Derek was trying to hide it. He gauged Stiles' reaction
but Stiles just seemed mildly confused and when he looked back at Derek,
Derek's eyes were locked on the other kid with a protective but otherwise blank
uninviting look on his face.
"We'll be fine. Thank you, Jake. I know my way around quite well," Derek
finally said in a tight pointed voice when the guy’s eyes slid over Stiles'
body like he was a juicy steak he wanted to get all over. Jake finally looked
at Derek with slightly raised brows but Derek looked to Stiles, putting a hand
low on his back. "Come on. Lumber is this way," he said, shooting a look at
Jake behind Stiles' back and letting his eyes go red for a second.
Jake just held up his hands palms forward in a semi apology but his eyes still
fell to Stiles' ass again until they rounded the corner out of sight. Derek
frowned deeply and then wondered if maybe Stiles wanted the attention. The guy
was obviously younger than Derek, closer in age to Stiles and attractive enough
like most werewolves were. Couldn't they go anywhere where no one would hit on
or threaten them? Couldn't that happen? Derek focused in on Kenna's heartbeat
but it was calm and relaxed so he didn't worry too much about her as they got
further away from Jake.
“That was weird,” Stiles said bluntly, casting a glance to the end of the aisle
that they just exited, but he couldn’t see Jake. The last thing he’d expected
was some random werewolf to start speaking to him kindly, especially after his
restroom experience. It occurred to Stiles that he was being very generalizing
about an entire species. He’d never thought about it before, but werewolves
were technically part human and just like humans, Stiles supposed that there
could be assholes and nice ones. Of course, the majority of werewolves seemed
to be assholes, but that didn’t mean that Stiles should think that they all
were.
Away from Jake, Stiles was suddenly acutely aware of the hand on his lower
back, the hand he was currently pushing into slightly as they walked. He hadn’t
even noticed it this time, as though it were a commonplace thing to do. He
wondered when Derek had actually started touching him and how long he’d been
oblivious. Stiles’ father had liked to say that for all his quick wit,
intelligence, and awareness about other people’s lives, Stiles was painfully
oblivious when it came to anything that involved himself. He had always thought
that his dad was exaggerating, but maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“So do you build a lot of your own furniture?” Stiles asked. Though he’d been
pretty deep in his own thoughts in the car, he had managed to pick up that
Derek was building some kind of thing for his room. He wondered if it was a
hobby or a job. Stiles dismissed the idea that it was a job quickly,
considering the fact that Derek was insanely loaded and no matter how good he
was, there was no way he could make that much off of just furniture. Kenna had
said something about what Derek did the first night that Stiles was there, but
he couldn’t remember what it was.
Derek glanced at Stiles when he said it was weird but didn't reply, unsure what
to say and not quite trusting his voice yet. He didn't want to be growly with
Stiles when he wasn't upset with him, just annoyed with the way Jake had looked
at him and annoyed with himself too for being possessive. Stiles wasn't an
object, he was a person. They made their way back to where the bulk lumber was
and Derek started examining the woods, trying to decide what kind he wanted; he
needed to take color and density and strength into account but thought he might
go with a nice white oak wood because that was easily stained to a color of his
liking and very sturdy.
He turned to Stiles when Stiles asked if he built his own furniture and wavered
before shrugging a little. "Most of it, but not the more upholstered things
like the couches," he answered, licking his lips and offering a little smile.
"I like working with my hands. Did you know even a werewolf can get calluses if
they try hard enough?" He laughed softly and held out his palm to show off the
calluses on his fingers and palms. "I actually… the house is, I mean, I built
it. Not on my own but I drew up the designs and decided the materials and then
helped the crew. My thing is buildings usually but I like to build furniture in
my free time. I'd rather build something exactly how I want it than buy
something that I'm settling for." He blushed and shrugged again as he turned
back to the wood, running his hand down the smooth finish of the white oak. "I
don't know. Maybe it's dumb. I just like knowing that I can create something
that'll last, I guess. Does that make sense?"
Before he could get a response from Stiles, a man probably in his late thirties
or early forties approached; he had salt and pepper hair and a bit of a beer
gut with glasses perched on his nose and a friendly enough smile. "Howdy,
Derek," he greeted as he extended his hand. "Back for some more lumber? What're
ya building this time? Who's your friend?"
Derek smiled back at the curious man and shook his hand warmly, shoving it back
in his pocket when he pulled away. "Hey, Dennis. This is Stiles, Stiles this is
Dennis. And uh, bookshelves to go under my window. I'm thinking white oak;
dense and easy to stain since it's light," he answered and he and Dennis went
on a long back and forth conversation over the pros and cons of different kinds
of woods for shelves and Derek ended up filling out a shipping order for cedar
instead of oak.
"It'll be delivered to the house in the morning," Dennis told Derek when he
handed the clipboard back and smiled over at Stiles. "It was nice meeting you,
Steven."
"Stiles," Derek corrected and Dennis chuckled and waved as he walked away to
see to another customer. Derek shook his head at the man and looked over at
Stiles. "He was my- well, we were gonna… he was supposed to be-" Derek heaved a
huge breath and shook his head. "He was almost my father in law. But he's part
of the pack now, my mother gave him the Bite a few years ago."
Stiles smiled at Derek as he talked about something that he was clearly very
passionate about. He tried to think back to the things in the house that were
made of wood. A few vague images came into his mind, but he couldn’t really
think of anything specific. He would be sure to pay more attention to the
furniture in the house. And the house itself. Hearing that Derek himself
designed the house was also extremely surprising. The house was gorgeous and
Derek definitely had a talent.
“You seriously designed the house?” Stiles asked, eyebrows raised, a smile on
his face, “That’s amazing. You have a real talent.” The blush on Derek’s face
made him smile wider. He nudged Derek a little with his elbow, sticking close
instead of pulling away. A man came into the aisle and started talking to
Derek.
Stiles watched Derek and this new man, Dennis, interact. The conversation
seemed to flow easily, though he had no idea what either of them were saying.
He managed to catch on to the fact that Derek ended up getting something
different than he originally was planning on. Dennis seemed like a pretty nice
man. He didn’t pay all that much attention to Stiles, which was better than him
being rude or violent. He was surprised when he heard that Dennis was once
going to be a part of the family. He immediately felt a strong urge to ask
Derek what had happened, how it had fallen through, but he felt like that was
probably too personal for them at this point.
“How’s Kenna doing?” he asked instead, “Should we finish up?” The day had been
trying for all of them and Stiles was ready to go back to the house and get
away from all these people. Maybe he would try to catch a nap in the car. If
Kenna wanted to get started on the painting in his room, then he would
definitely have to help move furniture and cover the room in tarps. He didn’t
want to seem like he wasn’t doing his fair share. Thinking of that, Stiles
realized that he should probably take a look at the chore chart in the kitchen
so he could see what he had to do there as well. He didn’t want Kenna and Derek
to think that he wasn’t appreciative of what they had done for him. Even if he
was going to leave.
Derek was grateful that Stiles didn't push on asking what had happened that
ended up with Dennis not being part of the family. It wasn't something he was
exactly eager to talk about at length. He trusted Stiles but he needed to be a
little more sleep deprived or a lot drunker before anyone got him to go into
detail about that particular dark period in his life. When Stiles asked about
Kenna Derek focused in on her heart beat again and then further out to the rest
of the store to pinpoint her location, eyes closed. He shook his head though
and looked at Stiles. "She's not done yet. She's humming and picking up
packages to look at. We still need to get the supplies to paint your room. She
had more on her list than we did anyways," he answered with a shrug and folded
up the yellow page receipt that Dennis had given him back. "We can head over
there and you can pick out your paint colors."
He held out a hand to allow Stiles to go first and then fell into step close
beside him. He wondered if he could get away with a hand on his back but held
back, instead just walking close enough that their arms brushed with every step
they took. They passed Jake on the way there and Derek glared as Jake smiled a
little too lasciviously at Stiles. He didn't make any move to approach or
follow them though so Derek left it as they veered into the paint section. He
grabbed three paint trays from the shelf when they passed and dropped them into
the basket, pausing to examine brushes and rollers before grabbing a three pack
of rollers and two smaller brushes for the trim. Then they came to the large
wall with all manner of paint swatches and Derek motioned Stiles ahead. "Pick
your poison. You can get whatever you want," he said with a little smile,
wanting Stiles to get the colors that would make him happy.
Stiles could see that Derek was grateful for the subject change, even if he
didn’t say anything out loud or direct anything at Stiles that said so. It was
clear as day on his face. He was hard to read at times, but this was not one of
them. They walked comfortably over towards the paint. He didn’t notice Jake on
the way there, too preoccupied with the way that his and Derek’s arms were
brushing, but he did see Derek look behind them for a fraction of a second as
they disappeared into the aisle. He gave Derek a small smile in return as he
continued down the aisle, eyeing the yellow swatches. The shade he wanted was
actually extremely specific, and most of the shades he saw were too bright and
garish. Stiles sighed a bit. Maybe he was being too picky. He closed his eyes
for a moment, visualizing it in his head, the way that the fire would glow
through the fabric, the way that he could see a shadow pass in front of it
every once in a while. He and one of his best friends used to use the light to
make shadow puppets, but he’d disappeared one day and Stiles never saw him
again. Upon opening his eyes, Stiles did a quick sweep of the entire aisle, his
eye catching on one small paint swatch. It was perfect.
“This is it,” he announced to Derek, a bit too excited for just finding a color
of paint. He motioned the werewolf to bring the cart closer, teasing that not
everyone had super strength. He lifted a few cans into the cart until he
figured they had enough to properly cover the room. Finding the blue for the
ceiling was a lot easier, especially when there were four different shades that
were labeled ‘Night Sky’. Stiles chose one of those, as well as a deep dark
green for the leaves of the trees at night. Kenna had said that she wanted to
make it look like a forest. After finding the glow-in-the-dark paint that she
had talked about, Stiles took one more look around the aisle. “I’m all done,
unless you need something else?” he said, looking back at Derek.
Derek followed Stiles down the rows of paint with a small smile on his face. He
liked how happy Stiles got about it all and helped to lift cans from the
shelves when he joked about not having super strength. Derek wanted to joke
back that Stiles could have it, if he wanted. Derek could give that to him. But
he thought that might be the wrong thing to say so he didn't. He never treated
Stiles like he was weak though or any less than Derek just because he was
human. Derek liked Stiles just how he was and would do whatever he had to do to
make him happy.
He looked around and then nodded at Stiles' question, leading him down a little
ways to where there were smaller cans. "I need to get the staining and wood
finish for the shelves," he answered with a little smile as he scanned the
shelves. He glanced at the little ring with samples of what the finishes would
look like, each labeled with the wood and color of finish. Derek chose a dark
one that would match the rest of the furniture in his room and put one small
can of wood stain and another of the clear protective finish in the cart before
nodding. "Now I'm done, we can wait for Kenna at the front."
He led the way back to the main aisle and found register ten, picking a spot
out of the way where they could wait. He parked the cart close to some shelves
of gardening hoses and turned to look at Stiles, smiling a little. "So what are
you interested in?" he asked, wanting to learn about this boy who sent his
heart doing back flips and made Derek want to smile all the damn time if he
would get an answering one in return. "Sports? Reading? Gardening? I'm guessing
you don't know much about woodwork by the confused expression you were wearing
while I was talking to Dennis." He smirked a little and then bumped his toe
against Stiles' shoe lightly - or rather his shoe that Stiles was wearing. "I
could teach you, if you got bored or something, if you wanted." He shrugged and
heard Kenna's heart beat coming closer until she skipped out of an aisle next
to them and beamed.
"Ready?" she asked, examining the things in the boys' cart critically before
giving her nod of approval. She added the things from the hand held basket
she'd been carrying and went to go add it to the stack nearby. "Come on, this
register is open," she called and Derek kept Stiles in his line of sight as
they followed, making sure that Jake wouldn't pop out from out of nowhere to
try anything. Kenna took care of organizing the items on the belt at the
register and stole Derek's wallet from his back pocket without even asking,
just sticking her hand in despite Derek's noise of surprise and protest. She
just smiled at him and then swiped the card in the reader, making Derek sigh in
resignation. Kenna was always going to do what she wanted no matter what anyone
told her. She was too much of a free spirit.
Stiles followed Derek to go pick out the wood stain. He liked the color that
Derek chose and wondered if the rest of his room looked like that, or if it was
a more eclectic collection of furniture. Judging based on what little Stiles
knew about Derek, he was willing to bet that the furniture matched. He just
seemed like that kind of person. Kenna was almost the polar opposite in that
respect. It was interesting to watch how they got along, especially since Kenna
acted so much like an older sister to Derek even though she was younger.
He smiled when Derek tapped his foot, using his hips to bump him lightly in
return. He considered Derek’s question seriously, though he wasn’t all that
positive of what he was really interested in. He had already told them about
how he liked to research whatever happened to tickle his fancy at the
particular opportunity he had, but he wanted to give Derek more than that.
“I like to run,” Stiles finally said, “And not for necessity.” Being in a human
encampment and dodging werewolves involved a lot of running on its own, but
that wasn’t what Stiles liked. He didn’t like running away, he just liked
running. “It’s just… it’s freeing. I feel like I can go anywhere,” he added,
part of him still feeling like he had to make up for the night that Derek had
told him about his scars, “Though I’m never opposed to learning something new.
Maybe doing something with my hands would be nice for a change.” Stiles was
actually pretty interested in seeing Derek work more than anything else. He had
never seen someone make furniture before and it seemed like a really
interesting process that he wouldn’t mind learning more about. Kenna appeared
beside them then, putting her things into the cart and giving their items a
onceover. They apparently passed whatever test and they got on line.
Stiles’ laugh rang clear and genuine at the look on Derek’s face when Kenna
stole his wallet. It was easy to see that they grew up together. It was the
first time he could remember really, truly laughing since he had been taken
from the camp. It felt nice. He had missed it, feeling happy and comfortable
enough to laugh. They each grabbed a bag until everyone’s hands were full and
all the bags had been picked up. They walked towards the exit, and Stiles was
surprised to see Jake standing there.
“I hope you enjoyed shopping with us today,” he said, sounding like he was
talking to the group as a whole, but just looking at Stiles again. Stiles gave
him a small nod and a polite smile as he passed, then everything seemed to
happen in slow motion. Just as he was passing through the door, he felt a very
noticeable hand slip into his back pocket, squeezing a bit on the way out, the
words “Call me” whispered in his ear. Stiles’ eyes nearly popped out of his
head as he jerked forward with a small yelp, away from the hand. By the time he
turned around, Jake was gone.
Derek looked at Stiles when he laughed and his expression softened up, letting
out a chuckle of his own. He liked that laugh a lot and wanted to hear more of
it. He let Kenna pay and then slip his wallet back into his pocket before she
loaded him down with bags from their purchase, mostly she gave him the bags
with the paint cans because he was strong enough to carry them without a sweat.
But he lost himself to his thoughts, speculating ways that he could get Stiles
to laugh more. He wanted to hear that laugh all the time but didn't think
Stiles was the kind to laugh at humor that was trying too hard. Derek hadn't
been trying to get him to laugh that first time, Stiles had just laughed at the
expression on his face when Kenna took his wallet. So maybe it was an
accidental thing, which kind of sucked. Derek had never been accused of being
funny much less accidentally funny. Derek was sarcastic and had a dry wit that
made people snort or smile or roll their eyes but very rarely did they laugh.
He was going to have to step up his game.
He was brought out of it though by Jake's voice and then Stiles' yelp when Jake
got too close and told him to call. Derek snarled after the guy but he was
already disappearing back into the store with his hands in his pockets and a
smirk on his face like he'd just gotten everything he ever wanted in life.
Derek wanted to run him down and warn him away from Stiles but he was holding
bags of their purchases and didn't want to upset Stiles. He looked over to the
younger man and wondered if Stiles would, if he wanted to call Jake. Derek
didn't trust him, Jake not Stiles. He trusted Stiles despite whether or not he
should. He just did. Which was scary because Derek was not good at the whole
trust thing.
Derek grit his teeth together almost audibly and his expression went blank,
emotionless. He wasn't going to tell Stiles that he couldn't call because he
didn't want to control him like that. It was Stiles' decision. But like hell
would Derek let him go anywhere with that guy until Derek did some looking into
it. He wasn't going to risk some asshole werewolf taking advantage of Stiles.
He wouldn't let it happen. Kenna looked at Derek with concern in her face but
he didn't look back at her as he headed for the car, unlocking it quietly and
loading the bags into the space left in the trunk. He took the bags from Kenna
and Stiles as well to put away and then got into the driver's seat.
He knew he was being ridiculous. He didn't have any right to Stiles. Stiles
wasn't his that way except on paper, which Derek largely disregarded because
Stiles wasn't an object to own and possess. He was a human being with feelings
and thoughts and a choice. He should have the choice in his own life to do what
he pleased and Derek wouldn't take that away from him. He shouldn't be feeling
jealous but he did, inexplicably. He hated the idea of it, Stiles being with
anyone else. He started the car and let Kenna choose the radio station but
otherwise stayed silent, not trusting himself not to ask if Stiles was going to
call that guy, to ask if he liked him, thought he was attractive. He didn't
want to pressure Stiles. He could do whatever he wanted, to an extent. Derek
would do whatever he had to do to keep him safe and that included not letting
Stiles go anywhere alone with that guy until he could decide if he was good
enough. Stiles only deserved the best and Derek knew that that wasn't him. But
it certainly wasn't Jake either.
Stiles was more or less in shock as he walked to the car. He had never been hit
on before, not as far as he knew anyway. Maybe he really was dense just like
his father said. He had spoken to Jake for all of two seconds, and the other
boy didn’t even know Stiles’ name, but that didn’t seem to matter. It was
strange. Stiles handed his bags off to Derek who was loading everything into
the trunk. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that the werewolf seemed
agitated, but Stiles couldn’t think of a reason for why he would be so he
didn’t comment on it. He was probably just imagining things or something.
He climbed into the backseat of the car, still able to feel the ghost of Jake’s
touch. It made him frown a bit as he squirmed uncomfortably. He reached back
and pulled the guy’s number out of his pocket. He wondered if Jake had followed
them through the store to wait until they were leaving to make his move. It
struck Stiles as vaguely creepy.
“Hey Kenna, will you roll your window down for a second?” Stiles asked once
they were away from the hardware store and speeding back towards the house.
Kenna nodded and hit the button for her window to descend. Stiles rolled the
slip of paper into a small ball and flicked it out the open window. Kenna
rolled up her window again and turned to look at Stiles.
“Was that really necessary?” she asked, a smile playing on her lips.
“Yes it was,” he said, matching her tone with a smile on his own lips, “I’m not
really into guys that squeeze my ass without permission, even if they are hot.”
“Good philosophy to have,” Kenna said with a mock serious face.
“I always thought so,” Stiles answered back, “Though I’ll admit to this being
the first incident where I’ve had to follow it.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Kenna snorted, her eyes flicking over to Derek
for a fraction of a second, too fast for Stiles to notice.
“Yeah, well believe it,” Stiles chuckled, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going
to take a power nap.” He settled down in the backseat, leaning against the
window, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. He wondered what Kenna found
so hard to believe. Stiles didn’t think it was all that difficult. He was just
above average height, had brown hair and eyes, was lanky, and had pale skin.
Nothing that Stiles thought was overly desirable, and all the people he had
grown up with seemed to think the exact same thing since he had never gotten
any action or anything. Despite how his mind was racing like it always did,
Stiles managed to drift off a few minutes later, dozing in the backseat.
“You okay?” Kenna asked, turning towards Derek as soon as she was sure that
Stiles had fallen asleep for the time being, “Your face says murder and your
grip on the steering wheel says death.”
Derek relaxed minimally when Stiles let the number flick out the window and far
away from them. He thought about saying something about littering but couldn't
make himself. He just stared out the windshield as Stiles laid down in the back
seat. He was asleep by the time Kenna checked to see if Derek was okay and
Derek let out a large breath, loosening and then tightening his grip on the
wheel again, shaking his head. "I don't know," he said lowly, keeping tabs on
Stiles' heartbeat to make sure he stayed asleep.
"I wanted to kill that guy," he admitted with a measure of shame in his tone as
he glared angrily out the windshield. "I wanted to chase him down and rip his
head from his shoulders just for...just for looking at Stiles like that. What
does that say about me? I don't have the right to be possessive over him. He
can like whomever he wants. He's not- I mean he's mine technically but only on
paper and never like that, not if he didn't want it."
"But you want it, him like that," Kenna hazarded just as quietly, looking back
at Stiles dozing peacefully in the backseat. "I didn't think you'd ever look at
someone that way since, you know, her. But you look at him that way. Maybe it
was fate that you found Stiles at that auction house. You could win him over,
make him fall for you like you're falling for him."
"You know what happened the last time I got involved with a human, Kenna,"
Derek said through gritted teeth as he shook his head. "Besides, he's sixteen.
I shouldn't want him. He could do so much better. Find a nice human who we
could bring into the pack, they could live happily ever after with their little
human babies. I'm- I'm damaged goods, Kenna. I killed my uncle, I'm a widower,
I'm an alpha who never wanted to be one, I don't trust easily."
Kenna wanted to point out that Derek wasn't technically a widower since she
died before they got married but she didn't think this was really the time to
bring it up. It seemed like Derek was finally moving on even though he was
holding himself back quite a bit from chasing his own happiness. "You're also
strong, brave, loyal, considerate, kind, generous, gentle, warm, loving,
protective, shall I go on? You're a great catch, Derek. So you're a little
prickly on the outside, once you get past that you're the most amazing guy. You
just have to realize that it's okay for you to move on and want someone else to
share you're life with. You're allowed to be happy again, Derek. You don't have
to shut yourself away and live in misery for the rest of your life."
Derek sighed and glanced at Stiles in the rearview before shaking his head,
focusing on the road ahead. "Can we please just… just drop it for now okay?" he
asked in a low, defeated voice. Kenna sighed but stayed quiet, straightening in
her seat and turning the radio up just a little bit. When they finally got to
the house, Derek took off his seat belt and then turned in his seat, hesitantly
laying a hand on Stiles' knee and shaking. "Hey, we're home, Stiles," he said
quietly, his walls still up but offering a small smile anyways even if it
didn't quite reach his eyes.
Stiles groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter when he felt someone trying
to shake him awake. He had never been any good at taking power naps and he
didn’t know why he thought that would suddenly change. Eventually, he cracked
his eyes open to see Derek, a hand on his knee, a fake smile on his lips.
Stiles furrowed his brows, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly. He
was struck with the strangest urge to make Derek smile for real, to make him
happy. Shaking his head a bit, Stiles returned Derek’s smile and slid out of
the car. He stretched his arms over his head as he yawned, his shirt lifting
just enough to show the sliver of skin above his waistband. He felt a
satisfying crack in his back and he pulled his shirt down again.
“I feel like the ride there was definitely longer,” he joked a bit, though he
was slightly serious. He thought he would get a longer nap. He had a feeling he
wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep tonight. Stiles never slept very well the
night after he had just had a nightmare. Now though, instead of keeping watch,
he had an entire library and laptop at his disposal to fill his sleepless
nights. He was definitely going to use that while it lasted.
“Quit gabbing, old ladies, and bring in the bags,” Kenna called from the door
to the garage, a few bags in her own hands. Stiles smiled sheepishly before
going to the trunk to grab a few things. He selfishly left the heaviest stuff
for Derek to grab, giving him a grin before heading inside. It was weird, but
Stiles felt like there was definitely something off with the werewolf. Instead
of asking about it, he followed the sounds of crinkling bags to the kitchen
where Kenna was. Stiles had a few of the hardware store bags.
“Should I leave these here for now?” Stiles asked, gesturing to the bags, not
knowing where they kept supplies like light bulbs.
“Yeah, here is fine,” Kenna said with a nod, “Go start putting your clothes
away, but keep at least a week’s worth of outfits out so you don’t have to go
in while there’s painting going on. And be sure to keep the red suit out for
dinner tomorrow.” Stiles barely managed to keep down his groan.
“Where am I going to sleep while the room is being painted?” Stiles asked,
putting down the bags and picking the ones with clothes in them back up.
“Ask Derek,” Kenna said distractedly. Stiles gave her a nod that she didn’t see
before he headed up to his room to put the bags down before heading back down
to get the rest of them. He bumped directly into Derek’s chest on the way back,
flailing slightly as he tried to keep his balance and not fall on his ass,
which he just barely managed to do.
“Hey,” Stiles said with an embarrassed smile, “Oh, umm Kenna said to ask you
where I was sleeping while the room was being painted?” He said it like a
question, almost like he was unsure if he was actually supposed to ask Derek,
but he was just slightly more afraid of Kenna so he was going to ask anyway.
Derek cracked a small smile when Stiles said that he swore that the ride there
was longer than the ride home. He shrugged because it was only perception;
Stiles didn't know where their endpoint would be when they were leaving the
house so his brain perceived the time as longer but he knew they were going to
end at Derek's house, their house, and on top of that he was sleeping the way
back.
He helped carry bags in and then went back. He was carrying the last of the
bags inside when Stiles ran straight into his chest, flailing and almost
tipping them both over. Derek dropped the bags of clothes in one hand to wrap
around Stiles' waist, pulling him close to steady him, keep him from falling.
Derek's breath hitched in his throat at the proximity as he looked across a
mere few inches. He could count every one of Stiles' lashes and the pale golden
freckles on his nose that were only visible up close like that, the flecks of
gold in his amber eyes and the precise shade of pink of his mouth. God did
Derek want.
"Hi," Derek replied unintelligibly, forcing himself to let go very, very
slowly, lingering longer than he needed to. He swallowed thickly and then
frowned uncertainly. "I...don't have any other bedrooms furnished right now.
There's...a futon. In my room if you'd like it. Usually the others will crash
there when they stay over. It folds into a full size bed. Or there's a couch in
the library but it might not be very comfortable."
Stiles could still feel the ghost of Derek's strong arm wrapped around his
waist. He could still see the beautiful, pale green of Derek's eyes surrounded
by dark lashes, the soft lines of his lips. Stiles' chest felt cold now that he
stood away from Derek's warmth and he forced himself to ignore the heated blush
his face was sporting. He hadn't realized that being so close to the werewolf
would make him react quite like that. Something told him to get closer again
but Stiles stayed resolutely in place, not wanting to embarrass himself.
"The futon sounds fine," Stiles said, his voice a bit hoarse, "As long as it's
okay with you." He didn't want to impose on Derek's space. He and Kenna each
had their own protected spaces and he didn't want to encroach on Derek's if he
wasn't really wanted. Especially not if he was going to be a nuisance by
staying up, or worse yet by screaming himself awake from another nightmare.
Stiles still felt horrible for waking up Derek and Kenna the night before. He
realized that they were both just standing there and staring at each other, so
Stiles bent down and picked up the bags of clothes that Derek had dropped. One
of them had the shoes as well.
"We have some nice salmon in the fridge, Derek," Kenna called, "We should
probably use it tonight before it goes bad." Salmon struck Stiles as a bit of a
fancy food for an at home dinner, but he didn't have that much experience with
those anyway. The last thing he was going to do was complain about what he was
being fed. Stiles was grateful for any kind of food that he got.
Derek swallowed thickly, watching Stiles watch him. Stiles had a blush on his
face and he wondered if maybe there was a chance Stiles could want him back.
He's a hormonal teenage boy, he wants your body not you, his brain supplied
ruthlessly and Derek forced himself not to frown. He shuffled closer just
barely, almost imperceptibly, but he could hear Stiles' heart stutter just the
slightest bit so even if Stiles himself didn't notice, his body sure did and
reacted to Derek's proximity.
He licked his lips and nodded, clearing his throat though he liked the way
Stiles' sounded - hoarse and thick like his mouth dried up or something. "I
wouldn't have offered it if it wasn't alright with me," Derek assured him and
was proud of how even and smooth his words came out with just the very barest
of hitches towards the middle. The thought of Stiles in his room, letting his
scent fill the air and get caught in the carpet and bedding and drapes and
couch... it was pretty damn appealing really. Though it would be hard to get
rid of it later when they were done with the room. It would probably take a
couple days to do the painting and then at least an extra twenty-four hours
after they were done to air out the paint fumes. Derek didn't want anything
happening to Stiles' brain function.
He didn't realize they were just standing there staring at each other, each
migrating a few millimeters closer without noticing, until Stiles dipped down
to pick up the bags Derek had dropped to catch him. Derek ducked down as well
to sweep a few up when Kenna called out to him and he straightened, thinking
through his mental list of things that he could make with salmon. "It's your
night to cook," Kenna added loudly and Derek rolled his eyes because yeah, he
knew. He figured that's why she was telling him they had salmon in the first
place.
"I could make that smoked salmon chowder you like," he called back and heard
Kenna's little sound of approval. He looked to Stiles and offered a small
smile. "Is that alright with you? There's a cold front coming down in the next
couple of hours so it should be a good meal for that. And cheddar dill scones?
Does that sound okay?"
“Any kind of food sounds good to me,” Stiles said with a small laugh, “I’m not
really one to turn my nose up at anything.” He left out the part where he
didn’t have much to turn his nose up at in the first place. He and his father
ate what they could find, always making sure that they each got enough. There
were times when it got hard, especially in the winter, but Stiles was
adaptable. He was apparently proving that now. He was already almost used to
living in a house and having a room, something that he couldn’t remember ever
having. “I’m gonna go put my stuff away,” Stiles said after a beat of silence
that they had spent just staring at each other. It was getting weird again and
Stiles definitely needed to spend some time in the library. He gave Derek a pat
on the shoulder with his empty hand, feeling a strange compulsion to touch him
before leaving with a small smile.
He walked up the stairs in somewhat of a daze, systematically folding and
putting away clothes, hanging the suits in the closet, but keeping the red one
out like instructed. He chose a few shirts at random and a couple pairs of
jeans as well to wear for the few days that his room was under construction. He
suddenly realized he had no idea where to put them since he didn’t actually
know where Derek’s room was, so Stiles just put them into one of the many
plastic bags that were now empty and brought it with him to the library, along
with his laptop and his phone as well.
Stiles was all too familiar with libraries. He had the Dewey decimal system
memorized. He put the electronics and the bag down on one of the desks and
immediately went to scan the shelves. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking
for, but science and biology seemed like a good place to start since a lot of
this seemed to have something to do with brain chemistry. He had an impressive
pile of books when he returned, only stopping to put them down to go and get
more, this time books on werewolves and their history, culture, habits,
anything that might help. He sat down on the floor behind one of the couches
with his mountains of books, about ten open at once as he scanned the pages,
looking for buzzwords that would tell him it had what he was looking for.
With Stiles' blessing on dinner, Derek finished putting away all the bags and
purchases before starting. He set a large pot on the stove and added a generous
amount of olive oil to heat up while he chopped some tender white and green
leeks and quickly minced some garlic to toss in with them. While that was
simmering he chopped up potatoes into large pieces and threw those in along
with some celery and salt before stirring it all up to really absorb the flavor
of the olive oil and garlic. Then he pulled out a container of homemade
vegetable broth that was left over from when he made chicken and dumplings the
previous week, turned up the heat and left it to simmer for twenty minutes
while he got the dough for the scones ready.
He measured Bisquick into a bowl and added cold butter, using his hands to mix
it until small chunks of butter the size of chickpeas were left. After that he
added shredded cheddar cheese and a bit of milk with some fresh minced garlic
before mixing it all up with his hands to get a more even distribution. He put
the bowl of dough aside while he melted butter then stirred in a little bit of
salt, garlic powder, and dried parsley flakes. After measuring out the dough
into dollops on a cookie sheet he brushed the butter mix on top before sliding
them into the oven just in time to work on the chowder.
When Derek pressed the edge of a spoon into the potatoes they were soft and
easily separated and the whole kitchen was warm and smelled of soup and garlic.
He turned down the heat to keep everything at a nice steady simmer before
scraping in tomato paste and carefully stirring in milk so it wouldn't splash.
The whole dish turned a smooth golden butter yellow and then he flaked in
chunks of smoked salmon into the pot before pouring in some heavy cream and
tearing fresh dill over the top. He stirred it all in and let it simmer for a
while longer so the cream and salmon would really deep into the potatoes and
leeks and celery. It was thick and creamy and smelled delicious.
Derek checked the timer on the cheddar biscuits before pulling down bowls and
glasses from the cupboard, spoons from a drawer to his left. He left the bowls
by the stove but set out the silverware and napkins at the small kitchen table
- there was a bigger more formal dining room table in it's own room but was
barely used except once a year for the company Christmas party that Derek hated
hosting but was always roped into.
He pulled the biscuits out when they were ready and set them aside to cool
while he went to collect Stiles and Kenna. Kenna was in Stiles' room shoving
the furniture all into the middle of the space and tarps around the edges and
she came easily, heading downstairs to get everyone water to drink. Derek
followed Stiles' heartbeat to the library and smiled soft and fond when he
found him.
"Stiles?" he said gently, not wanting to startle him as he came into the room.
"Dinner’s ready. You can come back up here after we eat, if you'd like. Kenna
got the tarps down in your room though if we want to start painting this
evening."
The longer Stiles sat in the library, the more frustrated he became. He had yet
to find almost anything that was relevant despite the huge amount of sources
that he was looking through. There were a few lines of inquiry that he had to
investigate further, things that some books only mentioned or touched on rather
than explaining in detail like Stiles needed. He supposed that something was
better than nothing, but Stiles was a teenager and he wanted immediate results.
He had to remind himself to be patient and that he had all the time in the
world to figure this out, and all the resources, but it was still difficult.
Patience had never really been a virtue for Stiles.
Books and pages were beginning to blend together the longer he sat there
staring at them. Stiles’ head was beginning to pound, but he didn’t stop. He
needed to find out what was happening to him, the strange feelings he was
having around Derek. He knew that if he told anyone else, even his dad, they
would chalk it up to teenage hormones and tell him to leave it alone and
forget, but Stiles felt like it was more than that. Of course Derek was
attractive. Someone would have to be literally blind not to see that, but that
wasn’t the driving factor behind the feelings. Stiles wasn’t sure how he knew,
he just knew and that was good enough for him.
Stiles was seconds away from tossing the book he was reading across the room in
frustration when he heard Derek’s voice. It was an almost immediate reaction.
Stiles could feel his heartbeat slow down, his body relax, and he just felt
better. That was definitely not just teenage hormones. There was something
deeper working here and Stiles was going to find out what it was.
“She got the tarps down already?” he asked as he stood up and stretched out. He
had been cross-legged, hunched over the books as he read. “We should paint
after dinner,” he said moments later, “Can’t let her do all the work on a room
that isn’t hers.” He felt bad that she had moved all the furniture and stuff by
herself. Stiles had figured that maybe she would call him when she was ready,
but apparently Kenna was a do-it-yourself kind of girl. Stiles let his arms
fall back to his sides when he heard that satisfying crack in his back. His
stomach chose that moment to growl loudly and Stiles gave Derek a sheepish
smile. “Stomach says we should eat first though,” he joked, brushing his arm
against Derek’s as he walked passed him to leave the library. The small touch
made him feel even better and Stiles almost stopped to bang his head against
the wall. Not knowing things was not his strong point. In fact, it irritated
Stiles to no end. He was going to get to the bottom of this.
Derek smiled at Stiles, already moving on from what had happened earlier
especially since Stiles had ditched the guy's number out the window. He noted
how Stiles looked a bit frustrated, like he was looking for something specific
but couldn't find it in the mass of books spread around him. Derek thought that
this would probably be a regular occurrence there, Stiles spread out in the
library with tons of books and a wrinkle on his brow. Derek thought he might
have a book to help Stiles with whatever he was looking for but it was up in
his room so he'd give it to him later.
"Yea, well Kenna would take over the entire project and not let you do a thing
if she could. She's very, ah...well, she likes to be in charge of things, we'll
put it that way," he said with a small laugh, leaning against the bookshelf in
front of Stiles. "We can help her paint after we eat though," he added with a
nod, goose bumps rising on his skin where Stiles brushed by him. He didn't
really think anything of it, just his own emotions causing physical reactions
from Stiles' touch.
He walked in a comfortable sort of quiet beside Stiles as they headed for the
kitchen and Derek inhaled the delicious scent of chowder and cheese biscuits.
Kenna was just putting drinks on the table and she smiled at them both.
"Stiles, I got the tarps down in your room. I didn't want to disturb you since
you looked pretty focused on your books," she told him as she took her seat,
brushing her hair back behind her shoulders. "We can start painting afterwards
though and then I'll work on the ceiling tomorrow."
An easy smile graced his face as Kenna spoke, and it struck him just how easily
he was integrating himself into the house and he supposed the pack as well. It
scared him, almost irrationally so. He didn’t want to have anything that made
him feel like he had to stay here, though the thought of leaving became harder
and harder to think about the more time he spent with both Kenna and Derek.
They were kind people, easy to get along with, and nice to be around. Even the
idea of making them sad made Stiles sad as well.
“Christ, that smells delicious,” Stiles groaned as he sat down, inhaling the
smell of food. Sure, curly fries were good, but this was on another level. He
could barely believe that Derek had made all of this by hand and hadn’t
secretly ordered it from somewhere. He’d never met a person that could make
this kind of food. He couldn’t wait to eat it.
“Derek’s cooking nights are always great,” Kenna said as she placed a napkin on
her lap.
“Seems like it,” Stiles agreed, copying Kenna’s motion and placing his napkin
on his lap. He wasn’t known to be the cleanest eater in the world. He picked up
his spoon and dipped it into the full bowl sitting in front of him. He blew on
it slightly since it was still steaming before placing it in his mouth. Flavor
spread across his tongue and he let out an involuntary groan, his eyes
fluttering shut. “God, this is the greatest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Stiles
moaned, quickly filling his spoon again so he could get more of it into his
mouth.
“Try a biscuit,” Kenna laughed, passing one to him. Stiles didn’t hesitate to
take it and take a huge bite.
“Holy shit,” he groaned, his mouth still full, “Derek, why aren’t you a chef?”
Derek smiled when Stiles said it smelled good and he sat down next to him,
picking up his spoon and taking a biscuit. He tore a piece of the bread off to
dip into the chowder before taking a bite, looking over at Stiles when he
moaned out obscenely. Derek flushed with pleasure at the compliment and his
cheeks went red as well as his neck and ears, smiling into his soup. The
primal, wolf side of him was pawing at him to reach out, to say see I can
provide for you, I can give you a good life, you'll never want for anything if
you choose me, but he pushed it back and took a sip of his water.
"Thanks," he said almost shyly as he peered up to look at Stiles through his
lashes and then shrugged when asked why he wasn't a chef. "Cooking is something
that calms me down and lets me unwind. It wouldn't let me do that if it was my
job you know? And there's a satisfaction that I get being able to give people
homes or libraries or museums or whatever it is that I've never been able to
replicate doing anything else. Cooking just became a hobby. My father taught
me."
"I hope he makes his famous pork chops tomorrow night," Kenna said with a
dreamy sigh as she dipped her biscuit into her chowder before popping it into
her mouth.
Derek smiled and nodded, looking to Stiles. "My dad does make really good pork
chops. I've never been able to make them quite the same way even if I follow
the recipe perfectly. I think he has a secret ingredient that he just doesn't
want to tell me," he shared with a good-natured roll of his eyes. "I took his
beef bourguignon recipe and made it better though so it makes up for it."
"Oh, and borscht," Kenna added around a mouthful of biscuit as she looked at
Stiles but pointed at Derek with her spoon. "Derek makes excellent beef borscht
and coq au vin and-"
"Okay, Kenna, he gets it," Derek cut her off with another deep blush and shake
of his head, sinking into his seat a little in embarrassment. "Do you cook,
Stiles?"
Stiles became a little nervous again at the mention of dinner with the pack. He
would have Kenna, yes, and he had already met Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, but he
didn’t know how large Derek’s pack actually was and he was too afraid to ask
since he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer. He had never experienced
an entire pack before. A few members yes, but never an entire pack at once.
Still, it wasn’t exactly like he had a choice in the manner. If he expressed
his discomfort, he knew that Derek would probably give him the option of going
home, but he knew that Kenna was going to get him out and in the suit as if her
life depended on it.
“Umm, well I can rotisserie a rabbit like no one else,” Stiles said with a
grin, “And I can bone a fish in under thirty seconds.” He didn’t have all that
much experience with real cooking since any time he could have had the
opportunity to do that, he had been too young. Still, he had always liked the
idea. Maybe he could experiment now.
“You should try out cooking here,” Kenna said with a smile, as though she had
been reading his mind, “We have plenty of things for you to use.”
“I’ll do some research and look up some stuff to try on you,” Stiles said,
wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
“Don’t poison us,” Kenna joked, making Stiles gave a genuine laugh.
“I would never,” Stiles said, mockingly scandalized, “Poison is such a cowardly
murder.” It was clear in his tone that he was joking. Though he entirely
planned on getting back to his father as soon as he was able, he could scarcely
imagine doing Kenna or even Derek any kind of harm. His heart hurt at the
thought of even making either of them sad, especially Derek. It was strange.
There was a time in his life when things were black and white. Werewolves were
bad and people were good. He would have hurt or killed a werewolf without a
second thought. Now, after meeting Derek and spending some time with him, he
could feel his black and white world blurring into gray and he wasn’t quite
sure how to feel about that.
Derek helped Kenna pack up all the paint when they were finished, soak the
rollers in paint thinner to clean them off even though the thinner made Derek's
nose itch. He looked over to where Stiles was smoothing out the tarps for Kenna
to use the next day when she was working on the ceiling. Thankfully they'd
gotten all of the walls done but it was getting late and Kenna was yawning and
Derek was tired as well after the long day and night they'd all had.
"Well, I'm heading to bed," Kenna said as they closed the last of the cans and
she turned to Derek, hugging him tightly around the middle with her head on his
chest. "Night, Der. Love you."
Derek brushed a kiss to her hair and squeezed back, smiling a bit. "Yea, yea,
love you too, kid. Get some rest alright?" he told her in a tone of voice like
big brothers always used with younger sisters, protective and loving and only
slightly annoyed.
Kenna hopped over to Stiles too and tugged him in, arms tight around his waist
and face smushed into his t-shirt with her head tucked up underneath his chin.
"Goodnight, Stiles. Sleep well, okay?" she told him and pulled away to press a
kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning. Love ya."
She pulled away with a smile and waved at them both before sashaying out of the
room gracefully, leaving the two boys alone. Derek looked to Stiles almost
shyly but offered a smile. "Do you want to grab your things from the library? I
can show you to my room. I think I might have a book that'll help you with
whatever you're looking for, since you seem to be looking for something on
werewolves," he said, motioning towards the hallway.
Stiles placed the last tarp that had been in his hands when Kenna said good
night onto the pile with the others. He was a little nervous still about
spending the next few nights in Derek’s room, especially since he was probably
going to have nightmares again. A little voice in the back of his head reminded
him how soundly he had slept when Derek had been curled around him, but he
squashed it down.
“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what I’m looking for yet,” Stiles said,
stepping into the hallway ahead of Derek and heading back towards the library
for his stuff, “But I’d be happy to get any resources that I can.” It was
generous of Derek to offer Stiles a book that was something personal of his,
since it wasn’t in the library. It was obvious that Derek really wanted him to
feel comfortable here and he really was making an honest effort. Stiles didn’t
want to say that it was working, but he couldn’t deny that he had been a
different person three days ago. His perception of the world had changed,
adapting to the new information he had received and he still wasn’t sure how he
felt about it.
Stiles retrieved his bag with his clothes for the week and went back out into
the hallway where Derek had waited for him. He followed the older man to a door
down the hall, surprised when he opened it to reveal a staircase. His jaw
dropped open when they reached the top and he discovered that a majority of the
third floor was actually Derek’s room.
“I guess the designer gets the best room,” Stiles joked, swiveling his head in
order to look all around. He spotted the futon pretty quickly and figured it
was a safe enough distance from the bed, but he knew that no distance would be
far enough for Derek to not hear him if he screamed himself awake again.
Derek blushed lightly at the comment about his bedroom. "It's- well, I guess
so. I like to have some space to myself sometimes. Usually no one is up here
but me," he said with a little shrug as he stepped further into the room.
It had plush cream-colored carpeting and a peaked ceiling - obviously a
glorified attic bedroom - with mahogany support beams. The south wall facing
the back of the house was floor to ceiling windows and from that height you
could see the large expanse of land that Derek's property led to. A river
flowed through the trees not too far back almost parallel to the house, wide
enough that a sliver of the far side was visible during the day but not so much
at night. A huge king size mahogany sleigh bed sat against the back wall a bit
to the left with the futon more over to the right and the bottom half of the
rest of the walls were bookshelves, photographs in frames sitting on top and
large paintings on the wall above, all by the same artist but ranging in size
and color. Some were bright and bursting with hues of life while others were
darker and a couple done in sepia tones. All of them were stunning though.
There were two doors to the left of the bed, one leading into the closet and
the other into a bathroom. There was even a fireplace on the wall across from
the bed with two large plush armchairs though one was very obviously worn with
use while the other still looked brand new. The entire room was done in shades
of cream and navy and slate grey-blue with the mahogany wood accents.
"Make yourself at home. I'll find that book for you," Derek offered with a
little smile before motioning to one of the doors. "That's the bathroom if you
need it, just help yourself to whatever's in there that you need."
He moved to the side of his bed and crouched down, opening the front panel on
his bedside table wherein was tucked a safe. He twisted the dial to put in the
combination and opened the thick metal door, reaching in and pulling out a
large parcel covered in a rich black fabric. He closed the safe and the panel
and then carried it over to the low coffee table by the futon - he'd never
quite figured out where to put it where it wasn't awkward so he just stuck it
by the futon. He sat down next to it and waited for Stiles before giving him a
serious look.
"This book doesn't leave this room, understand? It's a family heirloom,
centuries old," he told him before carefully unwrapping it from its cloth
bindings. From inside the fabric he pulled out a large ancient looking tome
bound in rich dark leather with several ribbon bookmarks peeking out the
bottom. Engraved on the front in silver ink was the same triskele Derek had
tattooed on his back with HALE written beneath it in intricate calligraphy.
There was a lock keeping it from opening and Derek pulled a necklace from
around his neck that had a key on it, a triskele at the top and when he twisted
it the lock came undone with a soft click. "There's a reason that my family's
name means something in this society," he said gently, looking up at Stiles.
"Mine is one of the two original werewolf packs and the only one to have
survived past the seventeenth century. Today we are still the largest and most
powerful Pack in North America. We have several alphas spread all over but my
mother is head of them all. This book is our oldest history, tracing all the
way back to twelfth century Europe."
Derek opened the book to the first page, thin and fragile and yellowing with
delicate scrawl covering the entire space in strange words that weren't English
but Derek's eyes skimmed it quickly anyways. "The story goes that a very
powerful Druid woman by the name of Ioetta fell in love with my ancestor Elias
Hale. They were supposed to be married but she found that he had been
unfaithful to her with her handmaiden, Godeleva. She was heartbroken but her
devastation soon turned to rage when she learned that Godeleva was pregnant by
Elias. She drew upon the powers of the full moon and cursed them both and all
of their blood descendants to turn into beasts, losing control whenever the
full moon rose but shifting back to human once it had set so that they had to
turn back to look at the devastation they had caused, just as she had to look
at the devastation of her love for Elias. When she had seen the power she was
capable of though, Ioetta tried again with the next man she found had been
unfaithful to his wife. Her rage with him wasn't as powerful though and the
curse was weaker, finally dying out five centuries later. Ioetta finally
married a human man and it was from them that the emissaries came to be though
the beneficial relationship between the two didn't come into existence until
the mid eighteenth century," he said, explaining the origin story as he read
along with the pages. He cleared his throat and looked up at Stiles with a
shrug, gently sliding the book closer.
"Anyways. I doubt that's what you were looking for but you're welcome to the
book as long as it stays in the room. If you need it opened then just let me
know," he said as he tucked the necklace and chain back underneath his shirt.
"It goes without saying that you'll be careful with this, right?"
When Derek pointed out the bathroom before going to get the book, Stiles
decided he would get ready for bed. He dropped his bag of clothes by the futon
on his way over to the bathroom, stopping only to take out the pair of
sweatpants and a sleeping shirt that he didn’t remember trying on but Kenna
managed to get to the register anyway. She was a little bit scary with how
effective she was at getting things to go exactly the right way. He went into
the bathroom and closed the door, not thinking to lock it behind him. He
changed his clothes and washed his face after using the toilet. He folded up
the clothes he had borrowed from Derek so he could return them.
He left the bathroom and spotted Derek sitting on the futon, the oldest book he
had ever seen sitting in front of him. Stiles sat down slowly next to him,
listening to Derek as he spoke about their history, how they had come into
existence. It was like nothing Stiles had ever heard and he was entranced,
inching closer and closer the more Derek spoke without even noticing. He felt
privileged that he was being shown this, especially with how gingerly Derek
treated it. It had to be beyond valuable, in both monetary and sentimental
value.
“Thank you,” Stiles said seriously, too afraid to do more than look at the book
at the moment, “I swear, I won’t let anything happen to it, I won’t take it out
of here, nothing. Really though, thank you so much. This is the coolest thing
I’ve ever seen.” Stiles’ fingers brushed the edges of the pages and he could
feel their age easily if he couldn’t already see it and even smell it. This
book could probably tell some amazing stories if it could speak, stories even
more amazing than it undoubtedly held inside already. For now, Stiles stood and
helped Derek move the low coffee table to the side, carefully shifting it so
the book would not move. They set up the futon together, not really saying
anything but giving small smiles when they caught each other’s eye.
When everything was set up, they bid each other good night even though they
were only going a few feet away from each other really. Despite that, Stiles
stayed up a little longer, reading the book. He read slowly, so as to not need
to turn the page too often and disturb Derek. It was wildly interesting, going
into how exactly the curse was cast and giving a few excerpts taken from the
family’s personal journals that someone had copied in. This book was clearly
made with the intention of recording history. It was large and he only got
through about ten pages before he could feel his eyes drifting shut. He closed
the book and he locked the clasp, moving just enough to put the protective
cloth cover over it as well. He was serious when he promised that nothing would
happen to it.
Stiles wished more than anything that he hadn’t fallen asleep.
He was back at the encampment. Looking down at himself, he could see that he
was in one of his new outfits, nicer clothes than anything anyone else was
wearing. Everywhere he went, the faces he had grown up with glared at him and
stared with disgust and contempt. He didn’t understand. He tried to ask where
his father was, but no one would speak to him. They just turned their backs on
him and pretended he wasn’t there. Stiles was becoming more and more frantic as
he began to run through the camp, tearing open tents begging someone to tell
him where his father was. Finally, he found his father. He was haggard and
dirty and it was obvious that he was drunk.
“The hell are you doing here?” his father slurred.
“What are you talking about? Dad, I came back for you,” Stiles said
desperately, trying to get his father to look at him.
“You think I want you here?” his father spat, “You think I want some werewolf’s
whore? You’re not my son.”
“Dad,” Stiles said desperately, tears forming in his eyes, “Dad, please. I’m
your son. I never, I wouldn’t, Dad I hate werewolves.” Stiles’ father barked
out a harsh laugh.
“Look at yourself,” his father yelled, throwing his bottle inches from where
Stiles stood, “Living with them, eating with them, sleeping with them. You’re
his plaything. His little toy. Go back where you belong, laying on his bed with
your legs spread.” Stiles was openly crying now, begging his father to
understand, to listen, that Derek was different. His father let out a drunken
scream, launching himself at Stiles, wrapping his hands around his son’s neck.
He slammed Stiles’ head into the ground, squeezing his neck until he couldn’t
breathe.
“Dad no!” Stiles bolted awake screaming, tears streaming openly down his face
as he tried to catch his breath. He was sobbing and he couldn’t stop it, the
idea that his father wouldn’t accept him back was tearing him apart.
Derek smiled and nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "You're welcome. Once you get
past the first half of the book it's not so much stories as just gathered
information. Things we've learned about werewolves and what we can do; how to
turn other werewolves, how we can tell if they'll be able to turn or not, how
to choose an emissary, how to control the shift, the affects of rowan ash and
wolfsbane and mistletoe. It's all in there," he explained as he got up and got
to his feet. "I'm exhausted, though. Turn out the light when you're finished."
Derek moved over to his dresser and pulled out a pair of clean boxers and a
pair of sweat pants before going into the bathroom. He changed quickly and then
brushed his teeth, used the toilet, and washed his hands and face. As he
finished up, he hung the towel back up after drying his skin and went back into
the bedroom. Stiles was stooped over the book and Derek smiled fondly before
going over to turn out the lights, leaving the floor lamp by Stiles on so he
could still see to read by.
"Goodnight, Stiles," he hummed quietly as he climbed into bed and he laid back,
letting the sound of Stiles' heart beat and the scrape of oxygen being inhaled
lull him into a deep sleep.
He dreamt of terrible things, sallow skin and black veins and dark eyes and
blood around pale lips that used to be the most beautiful shade of red. He
dreamt of hollow bones and clinging skin and bodies that were best left buried.
He didn't thrash or cry out though, just endured his dreams in agony until he
was startled awake. At first he wasn't sure what by but then Stiles was crying
out again and looking frantic and Derek leapt out of bed over to the futon
without thinking about it. He sat down and pulled Stiles close against his
chest, holding him firmly.
"Stiles, Stiles shhh, it's okay, you're okay, you're safe," he chanted softly,
not wanting Kenna to wake up again. She'd looked exhausted already. "I've got
you, I'm right here, I won't let anything hurt you, just take deep even breaths
alright? You're okay, you're okay, you're safe, you're okay."
Stiles clung to Derek without even thinking, desperately needing the tactile
comfort that another person could offer him. He buried his face in Derek’s
chest, still shaking with the force of his crying. His father’s words from his
dream still rang through his head, each one like a shot through his heart,
tearing away another piece and he just couldn’t calm down. It took upwards of
fifteen minutes for him to finally calm himself down to minor sniffles and
uneven breathing with a few hiccups.
“I-I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of Stiles mouth, tears still on the edge
of his vision, a lump lodged firmly in his throat. He couldn’t really say much
after that, his voice threatening to betray his weakness. He didn’t want to
tell Derek what he had been dreaming about. Saying it out loud would only make
it that much more real. He pulled away from where he had pressed himself
against Derek, wiping his face, trying to erase the evidence that he had been
crying. He took a few slow, deep breaths and tried to give Derek a weak smile
to show that he would be alright.
“You should go back to sleep,” he finally whispered, afraid that talking too
much louder would make his voice crack. He looked down at his hands as he
spoke. Part of him wanted to ask Derek to stay awake with him, to talk about
stupid things and distract him until he fell asleep. Another part was
remembering how soundly he had slept after Derek had wrapped himself around him
and wanted that kind of peacefulness now. Both were things that Stiles would
never ask for himself.
Stiles doubted he would be sleeping any more tonight, not if he had a say in
it. This nightmare had hit a little too close to home, too close to reality. It
was in the realm of possibility and that was what made it the scariest. The
fact that it could actually happen scared the shit out of Stiles and he never
wanted to think about it again. He needed to believe that his father would
never do that to him.
Derek's chants faded into soft murmurs of words that he wasn't even aware of,
not really knowing what he was saying but just trying to get Stiles to calm
down. He held him close like he seemed to want to be held and just rocked him
very slowly, rubbing his back, trying to get him to calm down. Slowly his heart
rate evened out and even if his breaths were a little hitched and erratic they
weren't as panicked anymore.
When Stiles apologized. Derek shook his head and very tentatively reached out
to wipe the tears from under his eyes. "Don't apologize, Stiles. You don't ever
need to apologize to me for this," he whispered quietly, fingers lingering on
Stiles' skin. Stiles told him to go back to sleep but after his own nightmares
and worrying about Stiles he knew he wouldn't be able to so he just shook his
head, took Stiles' hand gently. "Come with me," he offered nervously, voice low
like maybe Stiles wouldn't hear him but the rest of the room was silent.
"Sometimes it helps, to have someone nearby. I had a nightmare too. Besides, my
bed is more comfortable anyways."
He coaxed Stiles up slowly but surely and led him back to his own bed. It was
probably a very bad decision because Stiles' scent would seep into everything,
the mattress and the pillows. It would take months to get it out, maybe longer.
But Derek shoved it out of his mind and let Stiles crawl onto the soft
mattress, going around to get on the other side. Derek pulled up the plush blue
down comforter over them and moved closer to Stiles, reaching between the short
distance of space between them to find his hand. He wasn't sure if Stiles would
want more than that or not so he left it up to him.
"Do you want to talk?" he asked after a moment, scooting a little bit closer.
"We don't have to talk about your dream but about anything you want. Get your
mind off of it."
Stiles had followed Derek over to the bed in a bit of a daze, not entirely sure
of what he was doing. He couldn’t tell if this was a good idea or not because
this was different. This wasn’t Stiles falling off the bed and Derek using his
wolf form to be his pillow. This was the two of them actively and consciously
deciding to get into bed together, even if there was nothing sexual behind it,
there were some kind of lines that were being crossed here. Stiles wasn’t
entirely sure what those lines were, but he knew that something was being
changed between them.
For once in Stiles’ life, his mind was completely blank. He had no idea what
they should talk about, what to say or do. All he could think about was what
they were doing and his nightmare. Would talking about it make it go away
faster? Stiles honestly wasn’t sure if he would be able to get through talking
about it.
“It was my dad,” Stiles finally murmured, his mouth deciding before his brain
could catch up, “I… I had gone back to camp for him, to take care of him, but
when I got there no one would speak to me. They could barely even look at me.
When I finally found my dad, he was drunk. He hasn’t had alcohol since my mom
died. He was… he started yelling at me,” it was getting harder for Stiles to
speak, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, “Calling me a traitor and a
whore, telling me I wasn’t his son because I hadn’t killed you or hurt you and
actually kind of liked you,” Stiles was crying now, hiccupping through his
words, tears streaming down his face again, “He attacked me, trying to make me
leave, trying to kill me. Derek, he hated me.”
Stiles hated his mouth. If he had just let his brain decide that no, he
couldn’t talk about this, he wouldn’t be sitting in bed with Derek, crying. He
shook his head, cutting off anything that Derek might have to say about his
dream.
“Please just, I shouldn’t have, just please talk to me about something else,
anything else,” Stiles said quickly, wiping the tears off his face and looking
up at Derek, waiting for him to start some other line of conversation.
Derek's heart broke with Stiles' forced out words and he wanted to wrap him up
tightly in his arms, protect him from everything. He wasn't sure his touch
would be welcome or not considering the dream subject but he moved forward
carefully and pulled Stiles towards him at the same time until his arms were
wound around Stiles' body firm enough to keep him close but loose enough that
Stiles could break out if he needed the space. Derek wouldn't force the
proximity but Stiles' heartbeat was already calming down.
He wanted to reassure him, offer to maybe go find his father and bring him back
to live with them, but he wasn't sure the offer would be a desirable one. And
in any case Stiles asked him to change the subject. Taking into account what
Stiles had shared almost without meaning to, Derek decided to bare a little of
himself as well. Maybe if Derek was just as vulnerable as Stiles then he
wouldn't feel so uncomfortable.
"When I was sixteen we- my parents they brought home two humans from the
auction house, a girl and her father. My parents wanted to keep them from being
separated because they couldn't imagine what it would be like to be separated
from us that way. The girl's name was Paige and she was my age, so I would come
home from school and teach her whatever I'd learned that day. I fell in love
with her quickly and by the time we turned eighteen, I'd proposed," he
explained quietly, not trusting his voice to come more than just slightly
louder than a whisper. "There are… there are ways to tell if a human will
survive receiving the Bite. Turning her was the only legal way we could marry.
If she'd been an emissary, that would've worked too but she didn't possess the
natural spark that she would've had to have been born with. So we did the tests
to see if she would survive it and it all pointed to a negative outcome. We
didn't have to get married. She could've easily just stayed with me whenever I
moved out of my parents’ house. There's obviously no laws about, well, sex. We
still could've been happy together."
Derek took a shuddery breath and hid his face against Stiles' shoulder for a
moment, breathing him in, clutching a bit tightly at his t-shirt over his back
before releasing it slowly, pulling his face away. "Deucalion had been a
tentative ally of my parents but he wanted power more than anything else. He
was trying to legitimize a claim that he was the last living descendant of the
second werewolf family but there was no proof, everything said that they had
died out centuries before so he went looking for power with my parents. People
talk of course and he heard about what was going on with Paige, one day while
he was at the house," Derek's voice grew hard and angry but he kept it in
control, eyes staying their normal human color, teeth and nails blunt. "Later
that night he called me, asked me to meet him with Paige because he had an
idea. So being stupid and in love and ready to try anything, we went. He told
me that the tests weren't always accurate and there was only one way to know
for sure and that was to bite her. He was already an alpha at the time, from a
smaller pack that had all died and he was the only one left, protected in an
alliance with a small group of other lone alphas. I tried to fight him but he
had ten years on me and he was an alpha. He bit her. And it didn't work. She
was in so much pain. I held her for hours, taking as much of it as I could but
there was always more and I couldn't keep up with it. In the end she begged me
and I refused so many times and then I just... I couldn't let her hurt anymore,
not when I could do something about it. So I promised her that everything was
going to be okay and I... I killed her. We tried to get Deucalion arrested for
it but he framed one of the other lone alphas in his makeshift pack. No one
hates him more than I do except maybe Dennis. Dennis was her father."
Everything was silent for a long moment and Derek just breathed heavily, forced
back the anger and worked through the grief quickly until his eyes no longer
stung. He swallowed thickly and licked his lips. "You don't have to say
anything, it's okay. But just know...just because I'm privileged doesn't mean I
haven't had my share of heartache, that I've had a perfect life and I may not
know exactly what you're going through but you can always talk to me. I'll be
here for you, Stiles. I'll help you in anyway you need it. Even this," he said
on a whisper, rubbing Stiles' back to indicate their proximity and that he
didn't mind it at all and Stiles could ask for it if he needed it. "All you've
got to do is say the word, alright? I know what it's like to want to do
everything on your own and be strong for yourself, but that way lays many bad
things. Sometimes you need someone to lean on, to share the burden with. And
I'm pretty strong you know, I could help you with that burden. If you wanted me
to."
Stiles was completely without words. The more Derek spoke, the more speechless
Stiles became, if that was even possible. What Derek was saying seemed to be
the plot of some demented romance horror story. Stiles had no idea how the
werewolf was still able to function. Stiles flashed back to the diner on the
way back from the auction house and Deucalion and how protective Derek had been
of him immediately. He now completely understood. Deucalion had harmed a human
in Derek’s protection once and Derek was determined for it to never happen
again. Maybe because they had already crossed that barrier or maybe it was the
secret cover that night offered rather than the harsh light of day, but Stiles
leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck in a tight hug. It was
a little awkward since they were sitting on the bed and Stiles ended up kind of
leaning into Derek, the only thing keeping them from falling over was the
werewolf’s strength.
“How can I give you any of my burdens when you have so many of your own?”
Stiles whispered, his forehead resting against Derek’s shoulder. He knew that
in the morning he would probably feel really conflicted and strange about what
had happened between them, but here and now Stiles found that he couldn’t care
about that. Derek had offered him comfort and Stiles would do the same. He felt
like that the both of them had enough heartache for tonight, not to mention
that they had the dinner with Derek’s pack tomorrow and it would probably be
suspicious if the two of them were yawning through the meal. Stiles pulled away
after what felt like an eternity but was probably only five minutes at the
most.
“Let’s go to sleep,” Stiles finally said, looking down at his hands, “You may
be able to pull off the bags under your eyes, but I can’t.” He hoped that the
joke would lighten the air a bit, make things a little less intense than they
had been only moments ago. He offered Derek a small smile before scooting away
so that he could settle down in his side of the bed. He would definitely feel
weird in the morning, but right now it just felt like the right thing to do. He
laid down with his back to Derek. He was asleep nearly as soon as he hit the
pillow, proving just how physically and emotionally wiped out he actually he
was. Because he was asleep, Stiles didn’t notice when he started moving towards
Derek. He didn’t notice the way that he completely rolled over and pressed
himself against Derek, head under his chin, legs pressing against Derek’s, his
arms trapped between them. In the morning, he would definitely be embarrassed,
but now it was an instinct, a pull that he didn’t even know was happening as he
slept on, breaths even and calm, no nightmares in sight.
When Stiles put his arms around Derek, Derek leaned into it instinctively,
pulling him closer and hiding his face in Stiles' shoulder without really
knowing why he did it. Something just kept pulling him to Stiles, making him
want to be as close as possible. It was probably his scent. Stiles smelled
intoxicating and wonderful and Derek wanted to keep him. They stayed like that
for an immeasurable amount of time, hours or seconds who knew?, despite the
awkward angle. Derek knew it was probably hurting Stiles' back and he should
pull away but he was just so comfortable, he felt safe somehow.
When asked how Stiles was supposed to give Derek any of his burdens when Derek
already had his own to bear, he just smiled and shrugged, tightening his arms
around Stiles gently until Stiles was practically almost in his lap. "Like I
said, I'm pretty strong and there's a lot of space in my head. I'm good at
compartmentalizing. I want to help you, if you'll let me," he answered quietly,
whispering the words into Stiles' hair so that his breath fanned out over his
skin, lips just barely brushing the top curve of his ear. Derek wondered what
it would be like to move his lips just a little further down, how Stiles would
taste if he let his tongue trace the shell of his ear and kissed down his neck.
But he knew that would be a very, very bad idea so he kept himself in control,
holding back. He swallowed thickly when Stiles moved away because he wanted to
reach out again. But they were both exhausted and they had things to do
tomorrow before they went to Derek's parents' house for dinner.
He laid down as well, slipping against the sheets and pulling the covers up
over him, head on the large plush pillow. He watched Stiles as he turned his
back to Derek and fell asleep quickly, heartbeat evening out, before he closed
his eyes himself. But he noticed when Stiles started shifting, moving closer to
Derek in his sleep, and Derek hesitated but moved closer too until they met in
the middle of the bed. They were all tangled up in limbs, ankles hooked and
Stiles' head tucked under Derek's chin even though they were both laying on
their sides. Derek wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles and settled in for
the night - only after taking a moment to appreciate the way the moonlight cast
Stiles' pale skin into a silvery glow, his hair like copper. Derek thought he'd
never seen something so beautiful and he hoped like hell he'd be able to keep
him. He took a deep breath and then closed his eyes, keeping Stiles safe and
close and somehow in the night one of his legs ended up hooked over and behind
both of Stiles' as if trying to shield him.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Just like the last time Stiles had slept near Derek, he didn’t have any
nightmares and slept soundly, not waking up once. If he had been thinking, he
may have noticed the irony in feeling the safest when he was close to the thing
that he had been taught all his life was the most dangerous thing he would ever
encounter. Of course, Stiles wasn’t thinking. Stiles was a little preoccupied
trying to take in what exactly was happening. He had woken up around eight
thirty in the morning, when the sun had shifted in a certain way so that it now
shined directly in his face. After wiggling slightly to try and escape it,
Stiles finally just decided to wake up. He had opened his eyes to get an eyeful
of Derek’s chest and it took him a moment to realize that they were completely
entwined. He was sort of having a silent freak out. He had no idea how it had
happened, though their placement in the middle of the bed suggested that it
wasn’t just one of them to blame, it was both. Still, Derek’s strong arms were
wrapped protectively around him, and his legs were completely encasing Stiles’.
The teenager couldn’t deny that he felt comfortable, safe, and just… right.
Well, he could deny it, but he would be lying.
It was a feeling that Stiles was getting constantly around Derek, this strange
feeling of rightness. Stiles didn’t even know if that was really a thing, but
there had to be something behind it, some reason that it was happening. Be it
magic or something older than the two of them and the dawn of time, Stiles
needed to figure out what it was. He hoped that maybe the book Derek had showed
him last night would help. It was older than any other book in the library and
was bound to have information that those things didn’t. Stiles still had the
Internet of course, but that was all modern stuff. The only old things that
were on the Internet were the forty year olds looking to find themselves a nice
teenager.
“Derek,” Stiles whispered, trying to wake the werewolf up, “Derek, wake up.
Derek, I really have to pee.” It was just like playing hide and seek. As soon
as the perfect hiding place was found and you couldn’t leave, you had to pee
immediately. As soon as Stiles realized that Derek’s firm hold on him made it
almost impossible to get out of bed without injuring one or both of them, he
seriously had to go to the bathroom.
Derek slept soundly and peacefully, deeply for the first time in a very long
time. His nightmares and ghosts didn't haunt him and he was able to slip fully
into sleep, which is why he didn't wake when Stiles did. He was too deeply
asleep to register the change in his breathing or heartbeat, at least because
it wasn't panicked or scared, no indication of a threat. So when Stiles shook
him, Derek just grumbled a bit and tightened his hold, shaking his head as he
shifted to bury his face in Stiles' hair.
"Don' wanna," he mumbled in protest, hand sweeping over Stiles' back in a
placating gesture. "Stay." He nuzzled behind Stiles' ear and settled in more
fully, his subconscious, still mostly asleep mind wanted Derek to keep Stiles
close and not let him get away. But Stiles insisted he had to pee and Derek
grumbled but gave him some space. "C'me back," he requested as he loosened his
hold and then face planted into his pillow, a soft little snore escaping. He'd
been too warm and comfortable and reluctant to wake from such a wonderful
sleep. His body wasn't letting him wake up fully yet so his tongue was looser
and he wasn't able to suppress his desires very well. Or at all really.
Stiles slid out of bed and was struck by how cold he felt, standing on his own.
He pushed it out of his mind and went to go use the bathroom. After using the
toilet and washing his hands, Stiles splashed some water on his face. He could
still feel a slight tingle where Derek had nuzzled against him. He could still
feel the ghost of Derek’s touch on his back. Stiles slapped himself in the
face, trying to snap himself back into reality. Still, when he reentered the
main room, he found himself standing at the side of the bed before he even
realized. Derek had requested that he come back. Derek wanted him to get back
into bed so they could sleep some more. Stiles stared down at the werewolf,
majorly conflicted.
This would be different from last night. Last night, they were both distressed
and hurting and they needed physical comfort. The shadows and soft lines of
night had been forgiving, but the harsh light of the morning sun was throwing
everything into a sharp, critical gaze. This wouldn’t be Stiles accidentally
cuddling when he was asleep because his mind was scared. This would be Stiles
consciously choosing to get back into this bed when his mind was clear and
alert. He could feel something tugging at him, something telling him that he
should get back into the warm bed with Derek and stop thinking. It was almost
like their own little world up here, separated from the rest of the house.
After standing at the side of the bed for probably ten minutes, Stiles finally
reached out a hand to lift up the covers as he climbed back in. He didn’t move
as close as he had been to Derek, but he wasn’t hovering at the edge of the bed
either. He kind of wanted to see what the werewolf would do, if he was feeling
the same pull that Stiles was feeling.
Derek fell back into a deep sleep once Stiles had gone but not as deeply as
before. He didn't rouse until he felt the bed dip and Stiles crawl onto the
mattress almost tentatively and he reached out, searching until he found
Stiles' hand and gave a gentle tug until Stiles came back. He shifted over so
that Stiles was laying on his back and Derek curled up into his side, head over
Stiles' heart tucked up under his chin. He hooked a leg over one of Stiles',
arm snaking around his waist and face pressing into Stiles' neck tightly. He
gave a big yawn and then settled into him.
Derek didn't really dream but it was more flashes of images that he'd forgotten
as soon as they disappeared; images of his family and Paige when she was still
happy, telling him to be happy. He saw images of Stiles and himself, his pack,
their potential future. But he didn't remember any but the last image that just
hovered off in the periphery of his mind's eye, all but refusing to be
acknowledged. He roused from sleep slowly an hour later, letting his body
decide how fast he wanted to wake up. As he became more and more awake he
realized the position he was in with Stiles but stayed still, not freezing or
locking up or doing anything that would alert Stiles to the fact that he was
awake. He could feel and hear Stiles' heart beating beneath his cheek, skin
soft where he'd accidentally somehow gotten his hand on the bare skin of his
hip. He didn't want to move but he wasn't sure how Stiles would feel about them
like this. Did- did he ask Stiles to come back after letting him up or was that
a dream? He wasn't sure but he didn't want to move just yet so he hang on a
little longer than he should have.
Evidently, Derek was feeling a very similar feeling. Within seconds of Stiles
laying down again, Derek had been drawn to him like a moth to the flame,
wrapping around him gently and protectively. Stiles didn’t know what to do.
Derek’s weight was warm and comforting, his even breaths puffing gently across
Stiles’ skin. For his part, he did make an extraordinary effort not to freak
out or do anything that would make Derek wake up. If the guy wanted his sleep
than far be it from Stiles to be the one to wake him up. It took Stiles a while
to fall asleep again, hyper aware of every point where he and Derek were
touching. He bit down on his lip when Derek shifted ever so slightly, his hand
having worked its way under his shirt and slightly under the waistband of his
pants to rest like a hot brand against the skin of his hip. It took Stiles even
longer to sleep after that, but eventually he did, one hand resting against
Derek.
“Boys,” Kenna called, knocking on the door loudly just over an hour later
causing Stiles to jerk awake roughly, “Wake up! It’s almost ten and we’re due
at the house at two.” He let out a groan at being forced to move, knowing that
she would come in if they didn’t give some kind of response. She just knocked
hard once more before Stiles could hear her descending down the stairs again.
Seconds later Stiles was aware of the position that he and Derek had gotten
themselves into.
“Umm… good morning?” Stiles said uncertainly, voice still rough from sleep. He
wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to react to this or how Derek was going
to react. Technically, Stiles had chosen to get back into the bed after getting
up, but he wasn’t sure if Derek remembered that. There were plenty of
conversations that Stiles had had with his father but never remembered because
he was only half awake. Derek’s hand still felt warm and inviting against his
skin and Stiles found himself not wanting to pull away.
Derek didn't jump when Kenna knocked on the door because he heard her coming up
the stairs in the first place but he didn't care about being found like this.
(Even though he knew being found cuddled up with Stiles would only lead to more
annoying looks from Kenna.) She didn't come in though and for that he was
grateful though now Stiles was rousing. Derek could feel the uncertainty from
the younger man and he just decided to yawn, play it off like it was nothing.
He didn't want to call attention to it and make it awkward. He nuzzled the
front of Stiles' t-shirt one last time and then gently moved off of him onto
his own back, rubbing at his eyes. He knew his hair was sticking up in all
different directions and there were probably lines on his face from the
wrinkles in Stiles' t-shirt but he didn't care so much. They'd go away. He made
a soft noise and then turned his head to look at Stiles a bit.
"Morning," he mumbled, voice raw and rough with sleep still as he studied
Stiles' face. He wondered what it would be like - not for the first time - to
have Stiles' fingers run through his hair. "D'you sleep okay?" He turned away
again when he yawned and then stretched his arms over his head, extending his
legs as far as they'd go as he stretched himself awake. He didn't know what it
was about stretching in the morning that made him feel good, or anyone for that
matter. But it worked. He scratched absently at his naked chest and then put
his arms down next to him, one brushing against Stiles' but he didn't move it
away, trying to gauge a reaction. "I don' wanna get up yet," he decided and
closed his eyes, thought about rolling towards Stiles again but wasn't sure it
was a great idea since he wasn't half delirious with lack of sleep anymore.
Stiles felt strangely cold when Derek rolled away, but he didn’t want to call
attention to it. He sat up, trying to get himself to wake up a bit. He suddenly
found himself glued to the shifting muscles on Derek’s back as he stretched out
his arms and legs. A thought wondering what his skin might taste like if Stiles
were to lick it crossed his mind briefly but Stiles slammed a rock down on that
train before it could really leave the station. Those were definitely not
thoughts he should be having about Derek of all people. There was nothing about
that that was okay.
“I don’t either,” Stiles said with a yawn, flopping over as well. They stayed
on their own sides this time and he kind of wanted to roll over so they were at
least a little closer, and that freaked him out. He shouldn’t be having
thoughts like that, but everything about the action just screamed right.
Stiles’ gaze fell on the cloth-covered book and he almost itched to try and do
some more researched.
“If we don’t get up now, Kenna’s just going to come back,” Stiles eventually
said after the two of them had laid in silence for a few minutes, “I think she
made my outfit today her personal mission and if I don’t shower, I’m a little
afraid that she’ll wash me herself.” He tried to give a little smile, but he
was a bit preoccupied. After a few more moments, Stiles finally forced himself
to slip out of bed. He went over and grabbed everything he needed for the suit
Kenna wanted him to wear today. “I’m gonna go shower downstairs,” Stiles said,
not wanting to keep Derek out of his own bathroom, “Thanks for last night.” He
gave Derek a bit of a shy smile before leaving the room. He would get a chance
for research later. Now he was a little more scared of Kenna coming to shove
him into the clothes.
They lay there in a comfortable sort of quiet for a long time and Derek itched
to reach out, to close the distance between them and just curl into each other.
He wanted to bury his nose in Stiles' neck again, get his hands on soft skin,
not to ruin but to remind himself that he was alive. Stiles made him feel good
and he felt pulled towards him, like gravity had shifted and suddenly it wasn't
the earth holding him to the ground but the young man beside him. And wasn't
that a terrifying thought? He shouldn't put so much emotion into one person,
shouldn't get so attached when chances were slim that anything more would come
of it. Stiles was missing his father and Derek knew that he would try to find a
way to get to him. Derek just needed to find a way to get Stiles' father back
before Stiles did anything stupid that would put him in danger.
He glanced over at Stiles when he broke the silence and cracked a smile. "She
would definitely try," he agreed with a laugh in reference to Kenna trying to
wash Stiles herself. He sat up when Stiles slipped out of bed, watching him
gather up his things and nodding when Stiles said he'd go shower downstairs.
"Anytime, Stiles. Honestly, I- it was nice," he said and regretted it
immediately. It was nice?! He felt a little like an idiot but he watched Stiles
head out of the bedroom, close the door behind him. Derek heaved a heavy sigh
and fell back into his pillows, smashing one over his face for a moment before
forcing himself out of bed.
He padded barefoot into the bathroom and started the shower going while he used
the toilet and brushed his teeth then stripped down and stepped under the
steaming spray. He took an extra few minutes to scrub his skin so that he
wouldn't smell so much like Stiles and his family wouldn't be able to tell
they'd slept in the same bed. It would definitely earn him more than a few
smirks and probably worried eyes from his mother. She always worried about him.
He got out though and went through the motions of scrubbing himself and his
hair dry, wrapping the towel around his waist and padding out of the bathroom
into the closet.
"You should wear the dark grey Varvatos suit with the black button down and
burgundy tie. Pair it with the burgundy shoes you've got and you're golden,"
Kenna said from the doorway and Derek merely glanced back at her before
shrugging. She had better fashion sense than he did. "We need to leave in the
next hour and a half. Dennis said the lumber delivery should be here in the
next thirty minutes though."
"Alright, I'll meet them downstairs. You can go finish getting ready," Derek
answered with a nod and she smiled as he took the suit she'd told him to wear
off the clothes rack before disappearing out the bedroom again.
Stiles spent a suspiciously long time in the shower. Or so it seemed. In
reality, he turned the water on to let it heat up and then stood in front of
the sink for about ten minutes thinking about last night, and this morning. He
really had enjoyed being close to Derek, both physically and whatever emotional
barrier they had crossed together. Derek had come to comfort him, seemingly
without a thought and Stiles had accepted it similarly quickly. It had just
felt right. He kept thinking that over and over and every time he did, it came
with this strange pull to get close to Derek in every way.
After Sties finally got out of the shower, he made sure to scrub his hair as
dry as possible so that it wouldn’t drip on the suit Kenna wanted him to wear.
Seconds after his towel was secured around his waist, a knock sounded at the
bathroom door.
“Umm, who is it?” Stiles asked.
“It’s me,” Kenna said, “Put on everything so I can come in and fix it.”
“I think I know how to get dressed,” Stiles mumbled.
“I heard that and hurry up,” Kenna said impatiently. Stiles made a face at the
door but started getting dressed anyway. The steam from his shower slowly faded
away with the fan going and soon enough, Stiles had everything on.
“Alright, come on in,” he said, flicking the lock open so that Kenna could come
in. She was wearing just a bathrobe, but her hair and makeup were done
beautifully. She immediately began pulling and tugging on his clothes, evening
things out and pulling things into place. Stiles didn’t want to admit it, but
he did actually look a bit better.
“That’s better,” Kenna said, as though reading his mind.
“I still think I look ridiculous,” Stiles grumbled, “This is such a bright
shade of red.”
“Stiles, you look hot, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who will think so,”
Kenna said with a smile. Stiles just stared at her, completely confused. Kenna
just laughed. “Don’t get any stains on your clothes. I’m going to finish
getting ready,” she instructed as she left. Stiles made a face at her as soon
as she was out of sight. “Don’t wrinkle them either!” she called when she was
down the hall. Stiles sighed. That ruled out curling up in the library with a
few more books. He went downstairs instead, deciding he would look for
something small to eat for breakfast before going over to eat dinner.
Derek had gotten dressed in what Kenna practically ordered him into. He'd had
years to practice dressing in suits though so Kenna didn't feel the need to
check in on him and make sure he dressed himself correctly. He slipped on the
burgundy shoes and tied them up before heading downstairs, checking his watch.
He didn't hear tires coming their way yet though so he figured he was safe to
make some coffee before they got there. He was straightening his jacket sleeves
as he stepped into the kitchen and then looked up to see Stiles, breath
catching as he took in the bright red suit and the blue shirt, no tie so the
hollow of his throat was exposed. Derek wanted to put his mouth there.
He swallowed thickly and recovered himself a moment later, smoothing a hand
down his own tie. "You look really...I mean the suit it...umm, you look great,"
he finally stuttered out, cracking a smile and a faint blush as he crossed the
room to the counter where the Keurig sat. "Do you want a cup of coffee or some
tea? Hot chocolate? This thing makes it all." He rubbed the back of his neck
and pressed the button to turn the machine on, pulling a cup down from the
cabinet.
That same pull was there, to get nearer to Stiles, to run a hand down his arm
and tangle their fingers, to kiss him. He wanted, wanted, wanted so damn badly.
But he knew that he wasn't allowed, he shouldn't want Stiles the way that he
did. It was ridiculous and uncalled for. Hadn't he learned his lesson on
falling in love with humans already? Besides, Stiles probably didn't
even...well he didn't not like Derek, that much was obvious but he probably
didn't want Derek the way Derek wanted him. It wasn't even just...physically
that Derek wanted him either. He wanted to curl up on the couch and watch
mindless television with Stiles in their sweatpants, wanted to sleep next to
him every night and kiss him when he got home from work. He couldn't though. He
shouldn't. So he shoved it all down into a drawer, closed it up tightly at
least for the rest of the day. Laura would definitely smell it on him or be
able to tell somehow.
Stiles had just been opening up the box of crackers that he found when he heard
footsteps. He froze, afraid it was Kenna, but it was only Derek. Only Derek in
a suit. Stiles found himself stuck for a moment, staring at the man in front of
him. He felt the strangest urge to grab Derek by his tie and yank him down for
a kiss. Stiles had to shake his head slightly to physically dislodge the
thought. That wasn’t allowed. Not only was it weird, but also that would make
him exactly what his father had screamed at him last night. A traitor. Stiles
couldn’t risk how his father would see him. Not for Derek, not for anyone.
Stiles’ father was the only family he had left.
Still, Stiles felt it again now that Derek was in the room. This undeniable
pull. This desire to hold Derek close, to be close with him in every possible
way, emotionally as well as physically. It scared the ever-living shit out of
Stiles. He had never felt something like that for anyone, especially not the
werewolf who had bought him from an auction house. But still, Stiles felt it.
He felt it every time he looked at Derek and he wanted to know why.
“I’m, uhh, I’m good thanks,” Stiles managed to get out, tearing his gaze away
from Derek to stare at the box of crackers in his hands. It was silent for a
moment or two before Stiles spoke again. “Umm, your suit… it also… you know…
very good,” Stiles pushed out, clearing his throat after he did. God, he was so
stupid. He could feel himself heating up from embarrassment and it made him
want to take off the stupid suit, no matter what Derek said about it. It
physically hurt Stiles to look at, at least when he had the jacket on. When he
took it off and had more of his muted blue shirt to offset the bright red, it
wasn’t as bad. Stiles wondered if Kenna would let him get away with leaving the
jacket behind.
“So, your entire pack is gonna be there tonight?” Stiles heard himself ask,
immediately shoving some crackers into his mouth right after. He did want to
know who would be there though, wanting to know how greatly he’d be
outnumbered. He knew Derek would be there, obviously, along with Erica, Boyd,
and Isaac. Stiles had technically met Laura at the auction house. Kenna had
mentioned Derek’s father at dinner the previous night, so he would probably be
there. That was already six werewolves. Stiles just had to hope that they were
like Derek and maybe had a supernatural proof room for him to escape to if he
needed it.
Derek smiled a bit when Stiles stuttered over complimenting his suit as well,
closing the cupboard and setting his own cup under the spout. He put the little
plastic cup in and closed it, pressing the button and then turning to lean
against the counter. "Thanks, uh, Kenna insisted that I should wear this one,"
he responded with a shy little smile, glancing down at his phone when he got a
text message from his sister before tucking it away in his pocket again. He
thought about the question posed and did a mental count in his head. He made a
face and then shrugged sheepishly. "I'm not sure, honestly. It's not really a
formal sit down dinner. More like my mother likes to have an excuse to get all
of her children and grandchildren together. But you won't be the only human
there. I have human family members who haven't decided whether to be turned or
not. And Kenna can show you places to go if you need some air, or I can. You
can stick as close as you want. It's really not that much different than a
regular family except that there's a lot of us and sometimes the younger kids
accidentally sprout fangs or claws or fur." He gave a slightly amused little
smile and hoped to appease Stiles but he didn't think he'd done a very good
job.
Kenna bounced into the room a moment later with a big smile in a soft cotton
dress in a pretty shade of very, very pale pink. It sat off her shoulders and
swept at her feet, the low neckline exposing the tanned skin of her collarbone
and long line of her throat. Her hair was swept up in a delicate braid and
curled up at the back to keep it off of her neck, make up simple but
accentuating her natural beauty; long lashes and chocolate eyes and rosy cheeks
and soft lips. "You boys look dashing," she announced with a huge grin as she
snagged an apple from the counter and took a big bite.
Derek glanced over at Kenna and smiled back as she leaned against the island
easily. "You look stunning as your usual. Hot date tonight?" he asked teasingly
and Kenna beamed.
"As a matter of fact, I do," she responded after swallowing her apple and then
looked over at Stiles. "You can meet Jacob tonight, Stiles. He's so amazing."
The fact that Derek couldn’t actually say for sure how many werewolves were
going to be there made Stiles even more nervous, if that was possible. The
human family members didn’t help much either. Sure they were human, but they
were Derek’s family. That definitely put the odds in the werewolf favor, though
the odds for what Stiles wasn’t sure. It was just the way he had been raised
thinking. His father always told him to treat every room like a battlefield,
and not knowing the enemy was freaking him out, even though they weren’t meant
to be an enemy and Stiles was just overreacting.
Kenna looked gorgeous when she came in, definitely dressed to impress. It
suddenly struck Stiles as weird that they all had to dress up if this was just
a family dinner, an excuse to get everyone together as Derek had said. He hoped
that maybe the dress code changed every now and then, because he only had the
three suits and he still felt weird about this one. Stiles slid the jacket off
and hung it on the back of a chair, hoping to forget it there when they left.
“There’s a Jacob?” Stiles asked, mock disappointment on his face, “Well there
go my plans of wooing you.” He shot Kenna a teasing grin, one that she
returned.
“Are you sure that I was the one your plans said to woo?” she asked in false
innocence, sparing a playful glance at Derek.
“My wooing plans apply to all beautiful people,” Stiles answered, having
completely missed her look towards Derek.
“Well then, you might have a problem,” Kenna laughed, “Derek’s entire family is
beautiful.” Stiles gave an over exaggerated mournful sigh.
“Why must you take me places where I become the ugliest thing in the room?”
Stiles asked, the smile tugging at his lips ruining his attempt at woefulness.
“You ugly? Not possible,” Kenna said very matter-of-factly, “I dressed you
after all.” She shot Stiles a sly grin and they both began to laugh. It calmed
Stiles only slightly. He just wished he really knew more people that were going
to be there. Going somewhere with two good friends and three acquaintances
wasn’t exactly Stiles’ idea of fun.
“How soon until we leave?” Stiles asked, “I could use some real food.”
Derek glanced at Stiles when he spoke and a spike of jealousy shot through him
like lightening even though he knew that Stiles was only joking about his plans
to woo Kenna. There was no chance of Kenna leaving Jacob either because they'd
been dating since they were fourteen and Jacob was planning to propose that
night which was the reason for the formalwear for everyone. He gave Kenna a
dirty look when she glanced at him but smoothed out his expression quickly so
Stiles wouldn't catch it.
When reminded that all of his family was supernaturally beautiful - and not
just because they were werewolves - Derek panicked a little bit. Because he had
a lot of family members around Stiles' age and Stiles could easily fall for any
of them and vice versa. And then Derek would be right back to where he was
except worse. He'd lose Stiles and Kenna. He'd live in this giant house all on
his own, completely empty but for him. Maybe he could get a dog. A dog would
keep him company probably. Did dogs even like werewolves? Derek didn't know but
what he did know was that his chest felt tight and he found it hard to swallow.
He turned quickly to the counter so his back was to Kenna and Stiles as he got
his coffee together once it finished brewing, taking a deep breath. He was
overreacting he knew but he couldn't make himself stop thinking about it,
Stiles finding someone who wasn't him but was related to him, having to see
them together. He swallowed thickly and forced it out of his mind, taking a sip
from his mug. He turned around again when he was calmer and shook his head at
Stiles.
"You're definitely not ugly. You're-" he cut himself off and blushed, lips
loose as he darted his eyes away to look for a distraction. "I mean you're
obviously, you know- umm." Kenna raised her brows at him, completely unhelpful.
Luckily he heard tires on gravel coming up the drive and he cleared his throat.
"The uh, delivery is here so I'm gonna go- yea." He fled the room, leaving his
coffee behind which Kenna had no qualms about acquiring for herself.
"He thinks you're attractive," Kenna said unabashedly as she sipped from the
mug and leaned against the counter. "And we'll leave as soon as Derek finishes
up with the delivery. We usually stop to get kolaches on the way because it's a
little bit of a drive to his parents' house."
Stiles watched Derek all but flee the room, a bit confused about why he did it.
The delivery must be important. At least, that’s what Stiles thought until
Kenna’s blunt comment. Stiles’ face turned bright red and he started
stuttering.
“He thinks I’m—but I’m not—but he’s so, and I’m just—me? Attracti—no way,”
Stiles babbled out, face still flushed. Kenna just raised an eyebrow at him as
she sipped Derek’s coffee.
“You two are either painfully oblivious or unfortunately wimpy,” Kenna said
with a sigh, “Maybe both.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stiles asked, an edge of a whine to his voice.
“You two will find out eventually,” Kenna said easily, “Once one of you gets
his butt in gear.” She finished off the rest of Derek’s coffee and placed the
mug in the sink, leaving to get her coat before Stiles could respond. He wanted
to bang his head against a table. His life had become confusing enough without
Kenna being all cryptic and omniscient. He was tempted to ask her if she
actually knew what was happening with him and Derek, if she knew about the
weird pull he kept feeling, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to bring
attention to something that could be entirely in his own imagination. There was
no way Derek could even possibly think about him in the same way. Stiles was
human, there was an age gap, and there was also a pretty big visual gap. Not to
mention that Stiles’ personality wasn’t often seen as romantic material.
In the end, all Stiles got for thinking about it was a mild headache. He sighed
heavily and grabbed his jacket from the chair. Kenna would know if he left it
behind, but there should be nothing wrong with leaving it in the car. It would
still be there, it just wouldn’t be on him. It probably wasn’t even that cold
anyway, and if it was it wasn’t like Stiles would be spending an extended
amount of time outdoors. He probably wouldn’t even get the chance to be cold.
Stiles wandered towards the garage, since that’s where Derek’s car was. He
leaned against the wall next to the door and shut his eyes. Even though they
had slept in incredibly late, Stiles still felt tired from last night. He was
always extra tired after a nightmare, like his mind wasn’t able to complete a
full rest cycle or something. He let his head thump back against the wall, eyes
still shut, exposing the column of his neck. He would just rest his eyes for a
minute and then Kenna and Derek would come to get in the car and they would go.
Stiles had to be on the top of his game for this anyway.
***** Chapter 6 *****
After stopping on the way to Derek's parents' house for a bite to eat around
eleven it was another long drive to their house out of town. They owned a large
piece of property a bit further upstate that allowed their large pack to spend
most full moons together, running around without interference from any other
wolves. When Derek finally took a turn off of a back road, it twisted and
turned for a few miles before suddenly opening up to a huge estate. The house
itself was huge but not overly extravagant. It looked more like a nice family
home that had just been added onto and added onto to keep making more room for
everyone it had to support. It was white with blue shutters and a wrap around
porch on both the first and second levels. There were already cars parked and
the windows were lit up. Derek pulled the Camaro in next to a big SUV and then
stepped out of the car, waiting for Stiles and giving him a reassuring smile.
"If you need some space, all of the bedrooms on the left side of the second
story are protected like your room and Kenna's, okay?" he told him gently in a
low voice.
Kenna led the way across the yard and up the porch steps into the house. The
house was filled with happy chatter and the smell of delicious mouth watering
food and glasses clinking together. Then there was a noise above and suddenly
there were four little girls running into the room in various states of put-
togetherness. Kenna smiled and stepped out of the way to give them a clear path
to Derek.
"Uncle Derek!" "Unca' Der!" "Bear!" came the excited little voices and then
Derek was being used as a jungle gym as they climbed their way up. The oldest
of them was probably five with dark, dark red hair and huge green eyes and she
clung to Derek; the next two were twin three year olds with dark hair like
Derek's and pale blue eyes; and the youngest was two with a mess of blonde
curls around her head and eyes that were identical to Derek's.
Derek had wavered a bit as they climbed their way up but eventually one of the
twins ended up on his shoulders with the red head on his back and the blonde
and the other twin on either hip, his arms holding them steady.
Kenna pulled Stiles towards her side and grinned over at Derek, watching his
demeanor change and soften as he talked to them. "Obviously Derek is the
favorite uncle," she said quietly to Stiles, glancing at the human. "Those're
his nieces. Amaya is the oldest, but she likes to be called James, she's five
and a half. Then the twins are gonna be four in two months, the one on his
shoulders is Hailey and the one on his hip is Hannah. You'll learn to tell them
apart. And the youngest is Madison, she's just turned two, we call her Maddie."
At the end of the foyer a dark haired girl appeared and holding her hand was a
dark haired boy, skin a bit darker than the girl’s. "Hey, Allison, Scott, this
is-" Kenna started but Scott's eyes went huge and he cut himself off.
"Stiles?" he asked quietly, disbelievingly and the whole house seemed to go
quiet. "Stiles!" All of a sudden Scott ran at him but Derek got there first,
the girls suddenly standing and Derek crouched defensively in front of Stiles,
eyes red and a snarl coming from his throat. Scott's eyes flashed gold and he
snarled back but Derek's alpha won out over Scott's beta and Scott tilted his
chin to bear his neck.
"Boys, boys, none of that in front of the children," yet another voice called
and both Scott and Derek straightened up like children being chastised. A tall
gorgeous older woman with raven hair and freckled cheeks and soft brown eyes
came in, stared at Derek until he moved aside, and smiled at Stiles. "Forgive
my boys, please. Scott's new at this and Derek...well, he's protective. My name
is Talia Hale. It's a great pleasure to meet you."
The drive had been long and Stiles would admit to sleeping through most of it.
He was never good with long car rides. Kenna had chastised him when they first
stopped for risking wrinkles in his suit, but he had just made a face at her
before dropping right back into sleep as soon as they started going again. He
had woken up later, a little before they had actually gotten to the house.
Stiles could feel himself getting more and more nervous the closer he got. When
they finally pulled up, Stiles openly gaped at the size of the house and the
number of cars sitting out front. He was more than a little intimidated.
Derek’s gentle words made him feel marginally better as he catalogued just how
many rooms there seemed to be in the left side of the house and which one was
closest. His father’s words rang in his head: Always have an escape plan.
Walking into the house was nerve wracking, but he almost burst into laughter
when Derek was covered in little girls moments after walking through the door.
It was possibly the cutest thing he had ever seen and Stiles felt a soft smile
tugging at his lips. He listened carefully when Kenna told him all their names.
He studied each face for a few moments, repeating the names over and over in
his head. He didn’t want to get them wrong if he was asked later.
He looked up when Kenna moved to introduce him to two new people that had come
into the room and his jaw hit the floor and his eyes almost fell out of his
head because this wasn’t possible. Stiles was standing here looking at Scott.
Scott who he had grown up with. Scott who he had eaten mud with. Scott who had
watched him fall out of a tree. Scott who had disappeared out of nowhere and
everyone had assumed he was dead or worse. When he ran towards Stiles, he moved
to take a step forward, but Derek was in front of him in an instant, his stance
protective and aggressive.
“Do you know him?” Kenna asked in a whisper under the sound of growls.
“He’s my best friend,” Stiles answered, his voice laced with awe and confusion.
His head snapped up when a woman spoke, her voice commanding attention though
it wasn’t especially threatening. He watched as a beautiful woman walked
towards him. Kenna hadn’t been kidding when she said that Derek’s family were
all beautiful. Stiles could see it in her face, this woman was Derek’s mother.
They had the same bone structure.
“It’s lovely to meet you ma’am,” Stiles answered, mostly on instinct. His
father had always taught him respect for his elders, and it didn’t even
register that she was a werewolf and his father would definitely say that this
could be an exception. However, that didn’t even occur to Stiles. Honestly, he
was a lot more preoccupied with the fact that Scott was still standing off to
the side. Talia shot a glance over to Scott where Stiles was looking and gave
Stiles a smile.
“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to talk, but it seems there is someone else
you would rather speak to,” Talia said, her eyes kind. “But you two,” she said,
turning to look at Derek and Scott in turn, “No more displays like that. This
is family time.” She left the room with another smile at Stiles and Stiles gave
her a distracted one in return as he looked over at Scott. He and Scott stared
at each other for a good few seconds. He had the same goofy smile, the same
crooked jaw, the same curly hair, and the same dark tanned skin. Without even
realizing it, they both ran at each other again, slamming into a tight embrace.
“Christ, man I thought you died,” Stiles said around the lump in his throat,
tears stinging the corners of his eyes.
Now that Derek knew that Scott had been Stiles' best friend before Scott was
bitten and Stiles taken, Derek did feel marginally bad about growling at him.
But their previous relationship only made Derek worry more. Maybe Stiles would
want to stay wherever Scott was, which was with Laura since he was her pack and
she was still training him since he was newly turned. Derek wouldn't deny him
the option of staying with someone he obviously cared for even if the thought
of being so far away from Stiles made his chest tighten and breathing become
difficult.
He muttered a quiet excuse and left the two friends to their reunion, needing
some space and air. He'd known Stiles for all of forty-eight hours. He
shouldn't be so damned attached to him. It was too dangerous. He'd only end up
hurt. Maybe he was just destined to live the rest of his days on his own in his
stupidly large house he used to hope would one day hold children and a pack,
family. He put it all out of his mind though because he needed to put on a good
face for his family even if they'd all see through it, though not the cause of
his maudlin thoughts. For that he was grateful at least.
Scott squeezed Stiles back but he was mindful of his strength. That had been
one of the first things he'd discovered - his ability to break things without
meaning to. People were the last things Scott wanted to break.
"I wanted to come back," he admitted into Stiles' shoulder before pulling away
to look at him. "It's a long story. We can talk about it later. What are you
doing here though? And where's your dad? Why are you with Derek and why does he
look at you like that? Dude is bad news, I think. No one will tell me much
about him but he seems weird, Stiles. I don't want him to hurt you." He kept
his voice pitched low enough for Stiles to hear though any werewolves within
fifteen or so yards would probably be able to hear.
Stiles was still having trouble processing that Scott was actually standing in
front of him. The entire camp had declared him dead. They had a funeral and
everything, taking the time to bury an empty casket. It had been arguably the
worst day of Stiles' life. There hadn't really been time to grieve, but there
never really is for their lifestyle. They have to keep moving at all times.
Stiles' father had given him sympathy, but he also had to make sure that his
son was strong enough to survive and he didn't let Stiles stay sad for too
long.
He noticed that the room had emptied around them. All the little girls were
gone, and Stiles was willing to bet that Kenna had something to do with that.
Derek was gone too and Stiles resisted the urge to go look for him like he
wanted to. He felt that strange pull once more but he firmly ignored it. Derek
was still in the house somewhere and they would see each other soon enough.
They would go home with each other. Stiles had plenty of time with Derek.
"Mine is a bit of a long story too," Stiles said with a small laugh, "I got
caught scouting. I gave off the signal in time, but the werewolves who got me
sent me to an auction house. Derek had been there with Laura and he practically
doubled my bid to keep some guy named Deucalion from getting me," Stiles smiled
a little as he remembered, "I wasn't exactly grateful at first, but Derek, he's
different. He's really nice and understanding and he tried really hard to make
me feel welcome. Kenna helped too," Stiles was silent a moment before
continuing, "I umm, I don't know where my dad is. I haven't seen him since I
left for the scouting thing and I sent off the signal so they all packed up and
moved. I have no clue where they went." Saying that really made Stiles realize
that he truly did have no idea where his father was. Even if he got the
supplies he needed, he would have no idea where to even start looking for his
dad. Scott gave him a squeeze on the shoulder, able to see how emotional Stiles
was about this.
"Hey, what do you mean why is he looking at me like that?" Stiles asked, brows
furrowed in confusion, "How is he looking at me?" He didn't think Derek was
looking at him in any special kind of way and he had no idea what Scott was
talking about.
Scott's eyes widened as he listened to Stiles' tale of how he ended up in
Derek's care. Scott didn't actually hate Derek, not really, but he still wasn't
quite sure what to make of the guy so he was falling back on old instincts not
to trust werewolves - even if he was one himself now.
"I was out with Leo looking for supplies you remember? We were taking a round
about way back to the camp just to make sure, careful to use the hormone sprays
to mask our scents. But somehow a rogue found us. I told Leo to run and he did
and I was bitten. He wasn't even human or anything like we know werewolves to
be, not like a real wolf. He was...he was mutated or something. Turns out the
alpha that bit me was Derek's uncle. Derek showed up before Peter - the uncle -
could complete the kill. He killed Peter in return when Peter wouldn't back
down. It was pretty brutal," he explained with a heavy sigh, rubbing his side
absently even though the wound had long since healed. “Derek brought me back
here and left me with Laura, went off and built his place a long ways away and
pretty must just kept to himself there." Scott shrugged and then eyed Stiles
like he was crazy when asking about how Derek was supposed to have been looking
at him.
"You know, he looks at you like...and the whole growling over protective stuff.
I mean I've technically known the guy for a year or so but I don't know him
that well, just well enough to know he doesn't go all growly over just anyone,"
Scott explained uncertainly and then draped his arm over Stiles' shoulder. "I'm
pretty sure the dude's into you so you should probably be careful. Anyways,
c'mon. I want you to meet Allison. She's like the most amazing person, Stiles,
seriously. Her hair always smells like strawberries and limes and she's got the
greatest smile. I think I'm gonna marry her probably." He trailed off with a
dreamy sigh and dopey smile and tugged Stiles further into the house.
Stiles allowed Scott to drag him away to meet this girl, Allison, but his mind
wasn’t all there. Scott thought Derek was into him? Stiles had never really
picked up on that but maybe Scott had a clearer view as an outsider. Stiles was
pretty oblivious about himself anyway. He found himself wondering if Derek felt
the strange pull that Stiles did. If this was a two-way thing then maybe they
could do something about it. Wait, no they couldn’t. Stiles couldn’t get
attached. At least, he thought that for a moment before he looked up at Scott
again. This had been his best friend of how many years, he couldn’t even
remember anymore. Could he really choose between Scott and his father?
The next half hour was a whirlwind of introductions and shaking hands and
pasted on smiles. Stiles just couldn’t focus. He hated to admit it, but he was
pretty sure that he wasn’t going to remember at least half of the crowds of
people that he had just met. He just couldn’t get himself to stop thinking
about the moral question he had surprised himself with. Scott or his father? If
he could think of a way to have both, he would do it without a second. And how
would Derek factor into all of this. Stiles tried his hardest not to think
about it, but he really was getting attached to Derek at an alarmingly fast
rate. After Scott had declared that Stiles had met everyone, Stiles gave his
friend a pat on the back and excused himself to go to the bathroom.
Of course, there became a problem when Stiles couldn’t find the bathroom. Scott
had given him instructions, but Stiles might have turned right instead of left.
Or maybe it was left instead of right? Stiles had no idea. He was just
wandering the hallways at this point, looking at the knickknacks and pictures
on the wall. He wondered if he was on the right or left side of the house. Lazy
thoughts like this ran through his head until he walked past what looked like a
sitting room and saw someone inside. Stiles backtracked and looked again. He
would know the back of that head with that set of shoulders anywhere.
“Derek?” Stiles asked, taking a step into the room, a smile on his face, “Hey,
I haven’t seen you in a while. Got lost on my way to the bathroom.” He gave an
embarrassed shrug, looking around the room. It was nice, like all the others.
Derek had allowed the little girls to pull him out into the backyard, greeting
all his other nieces and nephews and various family members when he saw them.
Stiles seemed to be a hit with everyone because they all seemed to like him a
lot; Derek heard a lot of whispers about his possible relationship with Stiles
and how protective Derek had gotten of him on their arrival. It made him grit
his teeth and roll his shoulders because he really didn't want them thinking
there was anything going on between himself and Stiles or even a chance. Sure,
he'd caught just the barest trace of arousal on Stiles but he was a teenage
boy. He probably got aroused over a work out commercial. It was nothing to do
with Derek.
Eventually he was just too overwhelmed and he needed some space to himself so
he retreated upstairs to a sort of half office half reading room. There were
big comfortable chairs and shelves of books and big windows. Derek liked being
able to look out over the forest. He dragged an armchair towards the window and
sat down, book in his lap though a familiar heartbeat distracted him. Really it
shouldn't be familiar already but it was like the rhythm was singing right to
Derek and begging him to notice it. It grew nearer, passed and then doubled
back and Derek turned to look at Stiles. He took in that soft smile and
sheepish expression and ridiculously attractive red suit. He longed to curl his
fingers in the lapels and to pull Stiles close until it would be impossible to
tell where one of them started at the other began.
He cleared his throat a bit and tipped his head in acknowledgment, lips curling
at the corners without his permission. "Two doors down, across the hall," he
shared easily and shrugged. "I just needed to breathe for a bit. My family can
be...overwhelming to say the least. I'm uh...I'm sorry about earlier. I
overreacted. I wish I could promise that it won't happen again but I..." He
trailed off and shrugged again, looking down at his hand, curling and uncurling
his fingers into a fist.
“Already forgotten,” Stiles said with a wave of his hand when Derek mentioned
the small incident earlier. He didn’t even really see it as an incident. All
Derek had known was that a werewolf had started running at Stiles. That was
enough cause for alarm. Hell, Stiles had been slightly alarmed, though that had
more to do with seeing his supposedly dead friend than the fact that said
friend was a werewolf. It was admittedly surprising, but at the same time it
seemed to make sense. “Your family is a bit…” he started, searching for the
right words, “Numerous. I’ve never met so many people that were even vaguely
related at once before.” Yes, some of them like Scott had been bitten, but a
pack created a family tie and Stiles was going to count that as being related.
He knew that the werewolves did.
He suddenly forgot that he had come up here to go to the bathroom, choosing
instead to come further into the room and closer to Derek. Stiles was still
thinking about how Scott had said it seemed like Derek was into him. Despite
the short amount of time that they had known each other, the thought felt right
to Stiles, in the same way that a lot of things felt right with Derek.
Proximity felt right, making him laugh or feel happy felt right, spending time
together felt right, it all just felt right. Stiles knew there had to be an
answer somewhere. He was going to try and read the rest of that book tonight
before he had to move back into his own room. The thought made Stiles heart
sink a bit. His own room was pretty far from Derek’s, and it was specially
designed to keep the werewolf out. That felt wrong.
Stiles stood next to Derek, looking out the window at all the people playing
and talking in the backyard. They all looked so happy and carefree. He gave
Derek’s shoulder a little nudge. “So have you had enough time to brood in your
aloneness, or do you need more before returning to socialize?” he asked with a
playful grin. He would prefer to stay close to Derek, having felt weird when he
wasn’t around.
Derek was grateful that Stiles had forgiven him so easily and seemed to
understand why Derek had been so protective. Scott was still new at being a
werewolf and Derek sometimes questioned his control, not because Scott was a
bad guy but simply because he had struggled so much with it in the beginning.
He couldn't risk anyone getting hurt. Especially Stiles. Whatever was going on
between them - which Derek was still convinced was one sided on his part - made
Derek want to protect Stiles at any cost, more so because of what had happened
in the past. He nodded a bit when Stiles mentioned his family's size and his
lips curled slightly upwards, shrugging his shoulder. "It's...definitely
interesting at times. It can get tense but not often, despite our vast
differences in personality we work well together, with each other," he answered
and watched as Stiles came further into the room.
In the short moment of comfortable silence they shared, Derek's mind got away
from him. He imagined being allowed to reach out to Stiles, to lace their
fingers together and smile. He imagined Stiles coming closer and pulling him
into his lap, curling together on that big comfortable armchair. He imagined
stealing soft kisses and whispering words into skin and hair, flipping through
books and teaching Stiles everything that he could ever want to know. Stiles
seemed so intelligent and he had a thirst for knowledge that Derek was drawn to
because he had the same thirst. He was an architect, sure, but his library
wasn't only filled with books on load bearing walls and support systems and
work materials. They were filled with books on history and art and literature;
fiction and nonfiction alike. He loved reading and Stiles seemed to love it
just as much. He could imagine lying in bed at night, sharing a book or reading
their own and then curling together when they were ready to sleep, speaking in
soft whispered words through the dark about the things they had learned before
falling asleep. He imagined helping Stiles finish high school and move onto
something better; imagined sinking his fangs into the meat of his shoulder and
the way Stiles' eyes would flash a rich warm gold.
Stiles was speaking again and Derek came out of his thoughts with a snap,
chastising himself silently for allowing that train of thought to even begin.
Wanting Stiles like that would only end in more heartbreak for him in the end
when Stiles found someone else, someone better who deserved him. He wanted to
lean into Stiles' side right back when he bumped Derek's shoulder with his arm,
to turn and press his face into the warmth of his ribs just for a moment. He
didn't do any of that though, just looked up at Stiles from where he was seated
and quirked his lips. "Are you offering to keep me company or trying to coax me
back downstairs?" he asked and then glanced back out the window. "I would've
assumed you'd still be with Scott," he added, glad that his voice didn't hold
any of the jealousy that he was feeling. But maybe now that he'd found his old
friend as a werewolf, Stiles wouldn't be so opposed to them.
“Scott is the same as he ever was,” Stiles said with a fond smile as he looked
out the window, “Same crooked jaw, same goofy smile. He introduced me to
everyone, and when he finally introduced me to Allison. Well, I might as well
just not been there. Scott’s always fallen hard and fast for girls, but I’ve
never seen him like this. He looked at her like… I don’t even know. Let’s just
say that when you see the way Scott looks at Allison you think to yourself
‘Wow, I want to find someone who will look at me like that’. Pure love and
devotion, but at the same time, he’s not disillusioned. It’s almost like the
perfect love.” Stiles laughed a bit nervously when he realized that he had
basically been waxing poetic about his best friend’s love life. “Wow, that
actually sounds kind of stupid out loud, doesn’t it,” he chuckled, rubbing the
back of his neck as his face turned pink.
Still, every word he had said was true, and he knew that Derek would know it.
Stiles would probably cut off an arm to experience that kind of love. It looked
amazing.
“Hey Stiles! Think fast!” Scott yelled from behind him. Stiles turned around
and then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He saw Scott in the
doorway, a football clutched in his hands. Seconds later he was throwing it at
Stiles’ head. Stiles, who was completely lacking in instinctual coordination,
jerked away. His body took a step back, following the momentum of his head. The
back of his knees hit the armchair where Derek was still sitting, though he was
no longer alone. Stiles toppled directly into his lap, half falling off because
of the way he landed. The football smacked into the wall and Scott doubled over
laughing.
“Oh yes, haha, very funny,” Stiles said dryly from his precarious position.
“You never were good at that,” Scott mused with a smile.
“Yeah and you weren’t either, Mr. Severe Asthmatic,” Stiles shot back.
“Well, lucky for me I’m a werewolf,” Scott said with a grin, “Sucks for you
that you still can’t catch a ball.”
“I can catch plenty of balls!” Stiles protested, not realizing how that sounded
until the words were out of his mouth. His face flushed pink as Scott laughed.
“Well good, because we’re playing touch football and we need you and Derek to
even up the numbers. No tackling since we were forced into nice clothes for the
day,” Scott said, “Come on.” He retrieved the football, leaving the room after
he did, trusting the two of them to follow. Stiles turned to look at Derek, a
sheepish smile on his face.
“Sorry for falling on you,” he apologized, “I’m not always the most
coordinated, but you knew that.” They were actually really close together. Like
really close. It reminded Stiles of a similar instance back at Derek’s house
when he had walked face first into the man’s chest. This somehow seemed a lot
more intimate.
Derek could see the fondness in Stiles' expression and hear it in his voice as
he spoke about Scott, could see the wistfulness in him that told Derek that
Stiles wished that he had what Scott had with Allison. Derek knew it would
happen for him eventually. Some young girl would come along and see Stiles how
Derek saw him but she would be worthy of his affection, she'd be good enough
for him, better for him than Derek could be. He swallowed thickly and shook his
head, giving a shaky smile but not meeting Stiles' eyes exactly. "No uh, it
doesn't. Scott and Allison are...special, I guess. Not everyone gets what they
have," he answered, just before Scott burst in and tossed the football.
The next few seconds passed in a blur but then Stiles was falling into his lap
and Derek's arms came up to catch him and the next thing he knew, he was
staring down at Stiles, faces close. Derek's heart sped up and his eyes dropped
to Stiles' mouth and Scott was disappearing and then Stiles was turning to
stare at Derek, to apologize. All Derek could think of was closing the distance
between them and finally being allowed to kiss him. Before he could stop
himself he was leaning forward very slowly but he caught himself when Stiles
apologized and he pulled away, standing up carefully and putting Stiles back
onto his feet.
"Don't worry about it," he answered with a small shake of his head as he pushed
fingers through his hair and glanced at the door. "We should probably get
downstairs..."
“Umm, yeah we probably should,” Stiles agreed quickly, trying to pretend that
he hadn’t been staring at Derek’s hand running through his hair and wishing
that it could be his hands threading through the dark locks. His train of
thought surprised him. He had been feeling weird pulls and urges to be close,
yes, but this was a very specific and admittedly intimate thought. Platonic
friends didn’t usually want to caress their friend’s hair. Stiles certainly
didn’t want to do that to Scott.
Stiles followed Derek out of the room, trailing behind him ever so slightly as
they went downstairs. He could still feel the places where Derek’s arms had
wrapped around him, where the warmth had seeped into his skin. It had seemed
for a fraction of a second that Derek had been leaning towards him, but Stiles
forced himself to brush it off. There was no way that he was going to do what
Stiles was thinking. That was probably the last thing Derek would want to do
with him. Derek kiss Stiles? No way. He was maybe just going to scent Stiles.
Scott had done it earlier when he was introducing people to Stiles. Stiles had
been admittedly caught off guard when his best friend stuck his face in his
neck. Scott had been confused and had asked hadn’t Derek scented him. When
Stiles had answered no, Scott had looked momentarily thrown before some kind of
understanding had spread over his features and he said something about not
scenting Allison in the beginning either. Before Stiles could ask what he
meant, someone else had come over to meet him.
“Took you guys long enough,” someone said. Stiles remembered his name was John.
“Let’s get this game started. Talia, divide up the teams for us?”
Derek smiled as the game finished up, wiping his forehead a bit and rolling his
shoulders. He'd ditched his jacket in favor of just wearing his button down and
waistcoat with his tie. He moved towards Stiles and offered a smaller, private
kind of smile, dusting off his blue shirt for him where there was a little bit
of dirt. "That was fun. Usually we play baseball but every now and then my
brother gets us to play football," he said, walking close to his side as they
headed back inside.
Stiles returned Derek's private smile, reaching up to pluck a random leaf out
of his hair without thinking. Rather than making a big deal about it, he
carried on as though it hadn't happened. "Fun? That was intense man," Stiles
said with a laugh, "You guys get really competitive. Plus, it's really weird to
watch Scott run without wheezing." He remembered how they always used to have
to make medical runs so that Scott could always have an inhaler on hand. No one
mentioned it, but they made a lot less runs since Scott 'died'. A woman who's
name Stiles honest-to-god did not remember called everyone inside with demands
that they wash up for dinner, which reminded Stiles that he never did make it
to the bathroom.
Derek blushed a bit but shrugged. "Yea, they can get pretty competitive. I
don't mind much either way who wins, I just like playing," he responded
honestly as they headed inside, his Aunt Caroline calling everybody inside.
People crowded into the kitchen and the downstairs restrooms to wash hands but
Derek nudged Stiles' elbow and nodded towards the staircase. "C'mon," he said
quietly, heading past everyone and heading upstairs since no one else seemed to
have that idea. He headed down the long hallway and then pushed open a door,
waving Stiles in first. "You didn't ever go to the restroom," he pointed out,
wondering if it was creepy of him to remember that. "I can wash my hands in the
other restroom and I'll meet you at the top of the stairs?"
“Actually yeah that would be perfect,” Stiles said with a grateful smile, “Now
that you mention it, I actually really have to piss.” He gave Derek a squeeze
on the shoulder, for some reason unable to keep from touching him. He shut the
door once he got inside and went about taking care of his business. When he was
washing his hands, he couldn’t help but try and make himself more presentable.
He got rid of the small smear of dirt on the side of his neck, he rinsed his
mouth out, he fixed hair his where it had gotten flatten or mussed. When he was
satisfied, he left the bathroom and waited for Derek. They descended the stairs
together and were promptly ushered to the table. Talia sat them together and
Stiles tried not to feel too happy about that. Due to the number of people at
the table, all of the chairs were rather close together and similarly to when
they had eaten out the day before, their thighs were pressed together.
Derek washed his hands quickly in the other bathroom down the hall and once
they were dried again he ran fingers through his hair. It was a bit messy but
Kenna always told him it looked good that way so he figured why the hell not.
He straightened his tie and waistcoat and then waited at the top of the stairs
for Stiles, giving him a soft smile when he came into view. They walked close
together down the steps and Aunt Caroline ushered them into the room where
Talia pointed them to their seats, Derek beside his little sister, Cora and
Stiles beside Kenna. Scott and Allison were seated across from them and Scott
gave Derek a hesitant smile, which Derek returned even if it was a little bit
forced. He had to remind himself that Scott and Stiles were only friends and
Scott loved Allison and even if that weren't the case Derek had no claim to
Stiles. He could easily choose to go live with Scott and Allison at Laura's
house if he wanted to. Derek wouldn't stop him if it would make him happy. He'd
just miss Stiles a hell of a lot. The younger members of Derek’s family served
dinner, a tradition that they'd had for who knew how long. Anyone under
fourteen always served the older ones first before they sat down themselves. It
taught manners or something, Derek was never really clear on that. Eventually
everyone was seated at the long table and Talia sat at the head, waiting until
she had everyone's attention. She didn't even need to clear her throat or do
anything except wait, such was the strength of raw power coming off of her.
"I'd like to thank everyone for being here this afternoon. You know how I love
getting us all together," she said with a lurid smile, looking around at them
all. "I'd also like to welcome Stiles into our family. We're all thrilled to
have you here." Derek glanced at Stiles with a languid smile of his own,
reaching out before he thought about it to put his hand on Stiles' thigh just
to emphasize his mother's claim that they were all happy to have him.
Stiles blushed hotly, his face going bright red as he gave the rest of the
table an embarrassed smile. He froze when he felt Derek’s hand slide onto his
thigh. His blush spread down his neck and his entire body felt hot, but in a
good way. Before he could over think it, Stiles moved his hand towards Derek’s.
He hesitated, his hand shaking a bit nervously. After a second of a pause,
Stiles forced himself to put his hand down over Derek’s. Scott’s words about
Derek being into him flashed through his head and he gave Derek’s hand a small
squeeze without thinking. He was so absorbed in what he was doing and the
thoughts running through his head that he didn’t even hear the rest of Talia’s
speech and didn’t notice the way that Kenna was side eying him.
“Need some water there?” she murmured, “You look a little flushed.” Stiles
snapped out of it and turned to glare playfully at her.
“Oh haha,” Stiles whispered dryly, “Why don’t you try being put on the spot?”
“Ha,” Kenna scoffed, “This isn’t my first rodeo buddy.” All the while, Stiles
still didn’t let go of Derek’s hand, afraid that if he did he would move it
away. It was comforting in a weird way, Derek’s hand was large and warm and
strong. Stiles tuned back into Talia’s speech just in time for her to say it
was time to eat. He spent a moment trying to debate if he could get his food
one handed when Kenna whisked his plate away, filling it herself. Stiles
blushed a bit, realizing that she had to know what he was doing. With a sudden
jolt he realized that every werewolf at the table would be able to hear his
heartbeat.
“You okay Stiles?” Scott asked, as if on cue, “Your heart’s beating really
quick.”
“Yeah, well some of us are still pathetically out of shape and need more time
to catch our breath,” Stiles shot back with a smile, slowly moving his hand
away as though Scott would be able to see it too.
Derek's heart started beating faster as well when he felt Stiles' hand cover
his own but he was better and had more practice about controlling his heart
rate so it wasn't hard to force it into something more normal though anyone
who'd known him long enough would still be able to tell if they were close
enough. Scott spoke up though and Stiles started to pull his hand back and
Derek panicked. He didn't want Stiles to move his hand and before he could stop
himself he was turning his hand over so their palms brushed, fingers tangling a
bit. He didn't grab tightly, so that Stiles could still pull away if he wanted
to, but he hoped he wouldn't, hoped Stiles would pause and hold Derek's hand
tighter. It was so dumb and so middle school to get so worked up about holding
hands. It was innocent enough. Cora liked to hold his hand when they went out
together even though she was nineteen. Kenna held his hand sometimes too. It
didn't have to mean anything. But it somehow meant something for Derek and he
wondered if it would mean something to Stiles too.
His ears were bright red and he was scared to look over at Stiles so he reached
his free hand out for his glass of water, taking a long gulp to cool himself
off. It wasn't a big deal, really, it was just...hands. That wasn't a big deal
right? Except it kind of was for Derek because he'd never wanted to or even
actually held hands with someone that he actually wanted to kiss also. He used
his left hand to serve his food, thanking whatever deity was out there for
werewolf ambidexterity.
Stiles stopped moving when Derek turned his hand over, as though he wanted them
to continue holding hands. He hesitated, but Derek was offering right? It was
probably just a werewolf comfort thing but it still made butterflies dance in
his stomach when he entwined their fingers and held Derek’s hand a little
tighter to keep them together. He was just glad that he was a righty. His
father had been exactly the same. Stiles could feel that his neck was still
bright red, but he really didn’t care. As so many other things with Derek, this
felt good. It felt right. In fact, if it were possible, Stiles would get even
closer. He was suddenly sucked into thoughts of being able to hold Derek’s hand
all the time, being able to sit in his lap if he wanted, being able to kiss
him. A nudge from Kenna brought Stiles back into reality.
“I’m sorry, what?” he said with a sheepish smile and a pink face.
“I asked how you liked living with Derek,” a man a few seats down across the
table said, “He can be quite the sourpuss.” Stiles was quiet for a moment,
finally remembering that the man’s name was Craig.
“Well, I didn’t make it easy for him or Kenna,” Stiles said with a small
chuckle, “But they both were extremely welcoming. Needless to say, I was
surprised.”
“Surprised?” Craig echoed.
“Umm… well,” Stiles said, suddenly feeling a bit awkward, “I wasn’t exactly
raised with the… best image of werewolves. So, Derek kind of re-wrote my
world.”
“Yes, we can tell you two are quite close,” Craig said with a waggle of his
eyebrows.
“What?” Stiles asked, completely confused.
Derek relaxed when Stiles gripped his hand tighter and he curled his fingers
tightly back, smiling a bit into his first bite of food. He finally chanced a
glance at Stiles and squeezed his fingers firmly. He wished he was allowed to
sneak away with Stiles after dinner, to hide away in a bedroom or a closet or
something and- He stopped that train of thought cold before anyone could smell
something on him. As it was Cora was wrinkling her nose at him while she took a
bite of her green beans. Derek blushed again but looked up when Stiles was
talking to one of his relatives. Derek gave him a look and shook his head,
still not letting go of Stiles though.
"Leave Stiles alone," he sighed with a roll of his eyes, taking a bite of
potatoes and then reaching for his water again.
"Stiles," Deaton called, distracting away from the other conversation. He had a
thoughtful expression on his face as he studied Stiles carefully. "I don't
believe we met. I only just arrived while you all were playing. My name is Alan
Deaton, Talia's emissary."
“Hi,” Stiles greeted with a nod and a smile, “As you apparently know, I’m
Stiles, new human on the scene.”
“So it would seem,” Deaton said with a small chuckle, “How have you been
finding the environment change?”
“It’s a lot to get used to, but I like to think I’m adjustable,” Stiles
answered with a shrug.
“Yes, you seem to be,” Deaton said with a nod, “I’m sorry if this is invasive,
but have you ever had any experience with magic of any kind?” Stiles was a
little surprised by the question and he was sure that it showed on his face.
“Nothing beyond hearing the same rumors as everyone else in the camp,” he
answered honestly. He wasn’t sure why Deaton was asking, but maybe it was
important.
“I think it’s something you should look into,” Deaton said, eyes flickering
over Stiles, “There’s something about you, but I believe you have the potential
to become an emissary, and a good one at that.” Stiles was taken aback by that.
He had heard of emissaries, powerful druids with the ability to repel
werewolves and weaken them as well.
“Well I never thought about it, but thank you,” Stiles said, unsure of what
else he could say. The table dissolved into many different conversations, all
light and happy and Stiles finally started to eat some of the food on his
plate.
"I appear to have startled you," Deaton said with a soft amused chuckle as he
shook his head. "Forgive me. There's something about you. You remind me of an
old student of mine. You've got the same...spark about you. I can sense it even
from here."
"What does that mean?" Derek asked curiously, brows furrowed as he looked
towards the man whom he'd grown up around. Deaton had always been quite cryptic
when it came to anyone but Talia and Derek's father, Teddy.
"Think of it as a fire," Deaton explained, taking a pause to sip from his water
before continuing. "To start a fire you need a spark. For Stiles it simply
means that he has the potential to be an emissary and with the right training
and practice, his spark could turn into...an inferno. He could perform as your
emissary, Derek. You don't have one of your own. Laura has one and of course I
perform as your parents'."
Derek's head was spinning. If Stiles chose to pursue that, to be trained and
taught and took a place as Derek's emissary...he would be freed from his...for
lack of a better word, slavery. He'd no longer be an object that Derek owned on
paper but he would be free, his own person. That also meant he would be free to
leave though, to choose to live alone or to work with another pack. And Derek
was still terrified of losing Stiles. He remembered something though, something
about Stiles' smell, and he leaned into Stiles compulsively, nose pressed
against his pulse point as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. His brow
was furrowed when he came away, mind whirring.
"Ozone," he said at the same time as Deaton who nodded his head. Derek looked
back at Stiles, fingers tightening without realizing it. "That's what was
different but familiar about your smell. You smell like ozone."
Stiles’ mind was running along with Deaton’s words, forming plans and ideas,
traveling down twenty different scenarios at once. At least, it had been until
he felt Derek move closer to him. All brain function immediately stopped when
he felt Derek’s nose lightly pressing against his neck, the barest hint of
stubble scratching his skin. Stiles didn’t even think he was breathing, though
it wasn’t out of fear. No, what he was feeling most definitely was not fear. If
they hadn’t been at a family dinner, Stiles suddenly wondered how he would have
reacted because all he wanted to do know was tip his head back and wrap his
arms around Derek’s neck. For obvious reasons, he didn’t do that. Derek pulled
away moments later, and Stiles was able to resume functioning like a normal
human being. Sort of. His skin still felt warm from where Derek had been so
close to him.
“Being an emissary,” Stiles began, forcing himself to ignore whatever the hell
his body was doing, “That would give me freedom, wouldn’t it?” As kind as Derek
and Kenna have been, Stiles was still property. Anywhere he went, he still
belonged to Derek on paper.
“Yes, that does free you from the constraints on humans in our current
society,” Deaton confirmed, a somewhat grim look on his face. Of course, Stiles
would probably have a similar look on his face when talking about a species
forced into slavery.
“How long would training like that take?” Stiles asked next, thinking of his
father. He still wanted to get back to him somehow, and being an emissary would
make it immensely easier to travel to try and find him. He wouldn’t have to
worry about being caught, provided that he had proof he was with a certain
pack.
“That depends on the student and the teacher,” Deaton said with a small smile
on his face, as though he knew something that everyone else didn’t. It was a
little unnerving, but he still seemed like a nice guy.
“I mean, it’s a decision I’d have to think about, but I’ll definitely think
about it,” Stiles finally said after a moment of silence. He wouldn’t decide
that he wanted to be an emissary in one night. Part of him wanted to talk it
over with Kenna and Derek and get their opinions.
When Stiles asked Deaton about being freed if he were an emissary Derek's chest
tightened a bit, looking down at his plate and taking a bite of food. His hand
around Stiles loosened slightly but he didn't pull away, was simply giving
Stiles the option of pulling away. He had the means of freeing himself. Deaton
could teach and train him, build him into something amazing just like Derek
always thought he should be, thought he deserved. He wasn't upset about Stiles
gaining his freedom or becoming an emissary, he was just upset that it would
make it easier for Stiles to leave. Derek couldn't hold him there anymore. He
hadn't thought he was happy owning Stiles particularly but what if he was? What
if it made him feel better to know that he had some sort of hold on him? God,
he was a terrible person. He wanted Stiles to be free, he did. What he didn't
want was to lose him. Maybe he could offer to help Stiles find his father and
bring him into his home, give him a place with them. Would that make Stiles
want to stay? Would Stiles even want to stay if he got his father back or would
he run away like Derek was scared of?
Derek cleared his throat a bit and drank from his glass before looking over at
Stiles, trying to be supportive. "It's your decision, Stiles. There would
always be a place here for you if you wanted to stay but I wouldn't force you
here either," he said gently, shrugging a little bit. He wanted to say that he
wanted Stiles to stay, hoped that he would choose to stay even if he was freed.
Derek would do anything probably and that thought was scary. He could talk to
Stiles about it later though.
"Don't leave us," Kenna begged, having no such qualms with putting herself out
there wholly and completely. She was already dating someone so she didn't have
the same inhibitions that Derek did. She leaned over to put her head on Stiles'
shoulder, lower lip jutting out just slightly as she pouted at him. "You could
be Derek's emissary. Right Derek?"
Derek looked at Kenna and then at Stiles before nodding, tightening his fingers
slightly again. "If that's what Stiles wanted, of course," he replied
earnestly.
Stiles had felt Derek loosen his hold the moment he asked about being freed,
but he didn’t pull away. He didn’t want to and that was a hard thing to admit
to himself. There was so much about this situation that was strange, but Stiles
just held onto Derek’s hand tightly, shrugging off Kenna’s head with a smile.
“Quit it with all the serious conversation,” he joked, “You’re throwing off my
digestion.” He knew that he would have to make a decision about it, but he
would rather wait until later in a more private setting. For now, he just held
Derek’s hand tightly under the table.
“Oh yeah, because you have such a delicate stomach,” Scott snorted from across
the table.
“Keep talking and I’ll tell everyone how you cried when you caught your first
fish because you didn’t know it would die,” Stiles shot back, a pretend
surprised look on his face as though he didn’t realize that saying that would
reveal it, “Whoops.” Scott glared at him, but a smile tugged at the corners of
his lips.
“What, you mean like the time you got caught in your own snare and managed to
get so tangled that you pulled off your own pants?” Scott answered with a grin.
“And you should all feel grateful to have gotten a peek a Mini Me,” Stiles said
with a sniff.
“Yeah, ‘Mini’ is right,” Scott laughed.
“Trust me, I’ve grown in all the right places since we measured in the
sandbox,” Stiles countered.
“Alright, now you two are putting me off my dinner,” Kenna said with a grimace.
“We could talk about Scott’s first experience with a girl instead,” Stiles
suggested, “Now that is a story to tell.”
“Don’t you dare,” Scott said slowly from the other side of the table. Stiles
opened his mouth dramatically, as though he was going to start speaking when
Kenna shoved a forkful of potatoes inside instead.
“No bloodshed at the table please,” she said with a falsely sweet smile. Stiles
just grinned at her and ate his food. He turned to Derek then, giving him a
small smile and a nudge, just to make sure he wasn’t feeling left out or
lonely.
Derek looked away again when Stiles dismissed the subject, not wanting to talk
about it. It didn't make Derek feel any better because Stiles hadn't actually
said he wanted to stay, it made him nervous and antsy. It made him want to
offer Stiles the world if it meant he would stay. And the fact that Derek would
go to such extremes to get Stiles to stay scared him after all of the seriously
flawed and failed relationship shit he'd gone through.
He went back to eating his food quietly, smiling a bit at Scott and Stiles'
bickering back and forth. He almost choked when the subject of Stiles' dick
came up but they started talking about something else quickly before Derek
could get too...excited about it. He looked up when Stiles nudged him and he
couldn't help but return the small smile he was given, even if he was still
scared and worried of losing the person smiling at him. He wondered what he
would have to do to get Stiles to stay.
"Derek?" Talia called and Derek looked away from Stiles, back to his mother a
few seats away. "I wondered if you might help me with something in the kitchen
very quickly."
"Uh, yea sure, mom," he agreed with a nod, reluctant to let go of Stiles' hand.
He squeezed his fingers though and pulled away sadly, standing up and setting
his napkin on the table before following his mother into the kitchen, away from
the others. "What is it?" he asked once they were alone.
Talia took a deep breath and squinted her eyes at Derek, arms crossed loosely
over her midsection just for something to do with them. "I see the way you look
at Stiles," she said and held up a hand to halt Derek's protest. "I also see
the way he looks at you. It's...very much the same." Derek stared,
uncomprehending, unsure what to say. "Have you ever heard of soul sharing?"
Derek swallowed and shook his head, shifting a bit uncomfortably on his feet.
"Look into it, Derek, in the family book. I think you'll find
it...enlightening." She tugged Derek down by his ears to kiss his forehead and
then smiled. "You'll find a way to keep him, Derek. You can't keep being
paralyzed by the past."
Stiles carried on at the table after Derek left as though nothing had changed.
He carried on as though his heart hadn’t dropped slightly and as though his
hand didn’t feel like ice without Derek’s warmth wrapped around it. He
continued to eat and joke with Kenna and Scott, even dragging Allison into the
conversation, who wanted to know about Scott from when he was younger. Stiles
told the stories, but he still managed to get a bit preoccupied in his own
head. Stupid things, like wondering if he and Derek would resume holding hands
when the older man returned. Stiles tried not to think too hard on it and
focused on the people around him instead. He was going to have a huge problem
if he couldn’t think about anything but Derek.
Taking Derek out of the equation, his mind wandered to Deaton instead as he
slowly retracted himself from the conversation. He still listened and smiled at
the right times as he ate, but it was clear that he was really somewhere else.
Should he become an emissary? It would give him the freedom to find his father,
but at the same time, his current situation gave him an excuse not to leave.
Stiles felt horrible for even thinking that, but it was one of the only things
that should really hold him back at all. If he were to become and emissary and
gain that freedom, he should technically have no reason to stay behind and not
go looking for his father. However, even the thought of leaving Derek made
Stiles stomach clench. The thought of leaving Kenna made his stomach sink. Both
of which were feelings that Stiles didn’t really want to have on a full
stomach. Maybe he should try learning a bit more about what emissaries really
were. At this point, as nice as everyone was, Stiles just kind of wanted to go
home, read, and sleep. Of course, when he went home was completely dependent on
Derek and Kenna.
Home. He was doing it again. Calling Derek’s house his home. Did he really feel
that comfortable after such a short period of time? Stiles barely even had to
think about it to discover that the answer was yes. He loved everything about
the house, but it was the people that made him feel welcome, that made it feel
like home. If Stiles could be sure that his father wouldn’t completely reject
the idea or betray their location, he would do everything he could to bring him
to live with them in Derek’s home. If he allowed it of course. Stiles’ train of
thought continued as dinner progressed.
Derek stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes even after his mother left, just
needing the space to collect his thoughts and just breathe. Was it possible
that there was something more between himself and Stiles? Something more than
simple attraction? And if there was then was it felt on both sides? How much of
it was voluntary and how much is it taking away free will? Derek was not a fan
of taking away anyone's free will. Especially if it came to having feelings for
him. No one deserved that. Stiles especially deserved much more than Derek.
He composed himself though and went back out into the dining room, shaking his
head just barely enough for Scott to notice when Scott gave him a curious look.
He knew Scott had been listening in but Derek was too afraid to say anything to
Stiles just yet in case it was wrong and all just one sided on Derek's part. He
wanted to be certain. Derek smiled a bit at Stiles when he sat back down and
hesitated before figuring what the hell and reaching out to put his hand on
Stiles' thigh again in invitation, wanting to rekindle that physical connection
between them.
Stiles smiled at Derek when he came back in, but he could sense that something
was off. He wanted to question it, but he figured that somewhere more private
would be better. It was probably nothing, but Stiles didn’t want to make
unnecessary drama in a house full of werewolves. His heart skipped a beat when
Derek’s hand slipped onto his thigh, just like the first time. Stiles smiled to
himself, hiding it behind a large mouthful of potatoes as he slid his hand
underneath Derek’s to entwine their fingers just like before. It felt good.
The rest of dinner was a pleasant affair. Derek’s family was more than
welcoming to him, each of them engaging him in pleasant conversation at least
once. Scott was intent on catching up on everything that was appropriate for
the table and Stiles complied, trading stories of being with the encampment and
Scott being with the pack. It was incredibly interesting to hear about the
dynamics and Scott was interested in how everyone he had left behind was doing.
Eventually all the plates had been cleaned and there was no more food left to
be eaten. The youngest at the table got up again and began to clear everything
away. Stiles felt bad and wanted to help, but he didn’t want to let go of
Derek’s hand.
“Living room for dessert everyone,” Talia announced with a smile. Well, there
goes that. Stiles gave Derek’s hand one last squeeze before standing, his hand
feeling cold as soon as he let go.
Derek was reluctant to let go of Stiles' hand but he knew that keeping hold of
it in front of his family would raise questions and assumptions that he wasn't
certain Stiles wanted. So he allowed Stiles to pull their hands apart as they
stood, heading through the kitchen to claim their dessert. Somehow between
Derek leaving the kitchen and coming back everything had been set out and there
were hot mugs of coffee, hot chocolate, and hot tea to choose from. Derek took
a bowl of delicious apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream on top and a mug of
hot tea before moving in close to Stiles.
"I want to show you something. If you follow me," he whispered quietly, giving
a small smile and hoping Stiles would choose to come. "Kenna will meet us
there. She always does eventually."
Stiles smiled when Derek came up to him, his own hands full with a plate
covered in brownies and cookies and a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream.
He felt a little weird about leaving everyone, unsure if that was actually
allowed, but he figured that everyone had heard Derek ask and no one had said
they couldn’t, so it was probably alright. Scott was looking at them a bit
strangely, but Scott looked at a lot of things strangely so Stiles didn’t think
too much of it.
“Yeah, sure let’s go,” he said with a smile. He hoped wherever they were going
he would get to eat his dessert. Even to a human nose, it all smelled delicious
and Stiles was a little jealous about what it must smell like to Derek. It must
be positively divine. He turned a little towards the door, ready to follow
Derek out when he was directed. He tried to keep his brain from venturing down
paths with various sexy scenarios, but he wasn’t entirely successful. He at
least managed to push them to the back of his head.
Derek was glad that Stiles agreed to go with him. Derek needed some space from
his family just for a little while because he knew that as soon as the girls
got a chance they'd be demanding that he play with them. He didn't want to
leave Stiles alone with his family though either. He led the way to a side
entrance and they slipped out of the house easily, Derek heading for the
encroaching forest. There didn't seem to really be a trail per se but where
Derek headed into the tree line there was a path that had been worn in just
enough to be barely noticeable.
"It's not too far I promise," Derek said, pausing anytime something hindered
their path to make sure Stiles could get through - holding aside branches and
offering his hand to step over a fallen tree. Eventually Derek took a sharp
left and ten steps in he passed through a curtain of ferns and held them aside
for Stiles.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Beyond the ferns lay a large, beautiful round clearing. A shallow but clear
bubbling stream fed in from the far left side and emptied into a beautiful
little pond. There was a makeshift dock that jutted precariously into the water
and a hand-built bridge that went over the wide but shallow stream. Tall green
grass swayed in a quiet dance in the soft breeze and bright yellow and white
oxeye daisies and purple tipped yellow Indian paintbrushes and blue forget-me-
nots and red poppies and green clovers painted the ground with splotches of
bright color.
"This is where I taught my brother Elliot and my sister Cora how to swim, where
Laura taught me and Joshua taught her," Derek explained with a little smile,
the scent of the flowers strong enough that Stiles might even be able to smell
them. "I thought you might like to see it and maybe get a bit of space?"
Stiles had a little trouble following Derek at first, what with all the food he
was carrying in his hands, but the werewolf made it easy for him as he helped
him over rough patches. Stiles had not been prepared for a hike through the
woods, but he was sure that wherever he was going, it would be worth it if
Derek was willing to take him there. He was definitely right when they finally
emerged into a beautiful clearing. Stiles was gob smacked, looking around with
wonder. This place was literally in Derek’s backyard. That was insane to him.
“Derek, this is freaking gorgeous,” Stiles said, an awed smile on his face. He
walked slowly through the clearing, taking everything in as he moved to place
his food and things down on the little dock in the pond. He thought for a
moment before tugging off his nice shoes and socks and carefully rolling up his
bright red pants. He walked over to the small bridge and sat on the edge to
dangle his feet in the stream. “I can’t believe you grew up in a place like
this,” Stiles said with a sigh, kicking the water to make it ripple.
Stiles turned to look at Derek, the light of the moon making him almost glow,
and again he felt that pull to be close. He was definitely going to be reading
the rest of that book tonight. He had a feeling that everything happening here
wasn’t entirely natural. Maybe natural wasn’t the right word. It could be
natural for all Stiles knew, but it wasn’t a common reaction to someone else at
the very least. Stiles had had crushes and been in love before, but he had
never felt an instinctual pull towards another person like he did with Derek.
Stiles leaned back on his hands, turning his face towards the sky as he closed
his eyes and gently kicked his feet in the water.
“This is nice,” he murmured. It kind of made him feel sleepy, it was so
relaxing.
Derek smiled as Stiles looked around with an awed expression in his gaze. He
wanted to be able to give him that every day if he could. He wanted to show
Stiles that even though the world sucked right now, there were still good
things that could be enjoyed, things like this.
He sat his food with Stiles and then watched him take off his shoes. Derek just
looked at him when he sat down and then took a deep breath after a moment,
following Stiles' lead. He left their shoes together before going to join him,
toes jutting into the cool water of the stream and making goose flesh appear on
Derek's skin. He smiled a bit and then took a deep breath again, looking at
Stiles.
"Listen," he said quietly now that they had privacy. "About what Deaton said?
I'll support whatever decision you make, whether or not you agree to be
trained. If you do want to become an emissary then I'll file the paperwork
right away as soon as you start your training and you'll be given your freedom
after Deaton proves your abilities. I want you to know, too that... There's a
place for you here, always. I'd...God this is insane," he muttered, shaking his
head and looking away, glaring at the tree line. "I'd do anything to get you to
stay is what I'm trying to say. I'll help you get your father back, anyone you
want, anything you want, just name it. My mother told me as a kid to just ask
for the things I want instead of hoping to get them or hoping it'll happen. So
this is me... asking you not to leave but... understanding if you want to." He
was red by the time he finished and mostly regretting it but what was done was
done and he couldn't pluck the words from the air and shove them back down like
they'd never been said so he just braced himself for Stiles' reaction.
Stiles had been idly flicking the water to fill the silence when Derek began to
speak and he became more and more surprised with each word that came out of the
werewolf’s mouth until his jaw finally hit the ground, eyes wide as he stared
at a Derek who was resolutely looking away. Did he mean it? Was he serious? Did
he honestly want Stiles to stay bad enough to be willing to truly do anything
he asked? Stiles had no idea that Derek believed him to be worth it in that
way. It got him thinking about the way that he had gotten so quickly attached
to Derek and something just sort of clicked. Well, not ‘clicked’ necessarily,
but Stiles caught the similarities. Maybe Scott had been right. Maybe this
weird pull, this strange attraction, wasn’t as one-sided as Stiles had
previously thought. Of course, that was a worry for another time. Stiles had no
idea how long he’d been silent, but he was pretty sure that Derek was on his
way to having some kind of brain aneurism.
“I still don’t know about being an emissary,” Stiles said honestly, “There’s a
lot of actual responsibility that comes with that, and I don’t really have the
best track record. I mean, all that stuff would be wicked cool to learn about
and imagine how badass I would be, but yeah, I still wanted to think a little
more about that.” He was silent for a moment, thinking more towards everything
else Derek had said which was far more pressing than Stiles becoming an
emissary.
“As for leaving,” Stiles began slowly, “I’ll admit, when I first heard your bid
and knew it was over for me, that was the first thing I thought of. Escape
plans, how I was going to get away, how quickly I would manage to do it, what I
would need for optimal survival. The first time I met you, and you told them to
treat me with respect, I figured that escaping would literally be the easiest
thing I could ever do. Then… then it got harder. I met Kenna and she was
amazing and fun, and then I really got to know you, Derek, and I… it just got
harder to think about leaving because I actually liked you guys. And I feel
guilty about that. I feel so horribly guilty for not hating you and for not
plotting to kill you in your sleep and for not trying harder to get back to my
father. What would he think of what I’ve become? Putting on a suit to play
touch football on a sunny Saturday with a bunch of werewolves? I just… before I
met you, the world was black and white. Werewolves were bad, and humans were
good, and my father was my priority. But then you came around with your shades
of gray and you made everything blurry and I couldn’t tell where the lines were
anymore. I still can’t. What… what I’m really trying to say is that I don’t
think you have to worry about me leaving. I’m too selfish to leave.” Stiles
seriously just spilled his guts everywhere. ‘Go hard or go home’ was the first
thing that popped into his head and he almost scowled at himself, but he was
too busy worrying that he’d said too much.
Derek understood Stiles' reservations about being an emissary because Stiles
was right. It was a lot of responsibility and he was only sixteen years old.
Derek wouldn't mind if he decided to wait a few years. He'd do whatever made
Stiles happy. "You don't have to be an emissary now. The training can take
years but you can still gain your freedom before you're fully trained, it's
just a probationary sort of thing. If you stop training for whatever reason
then you'll be out back into the system as human property," he said, making a
face at that.
Stiles went on and the more he talked, the more and more dread built in Derek's
stomach. Stiles wished that he hated Derek, wished that he wanted to kill him.
Even if he wouldn't Stiles still wanted to want that. Despair was settling in
like a long lost friend, feeling like he was losing Stiles already. But then
Stiles told him that he was too selfish to leave and Derek turned his head to
look at Stiles, eyes hesitant and uncertain.
"I'll get him back for you if that's what you want. I'll get your father back
for you. And if he hates Kenna and me, wants nothing to do with us then I'll…
I'll build him a home away from mine and you can live there and I'll never
bother him or you if that's what he wants or what you want. I just want you to
be safe and the only way I can think to keep you safe is to keep you with me.
It's the lesser of the evils at least," he said, the words falling out without
his conscious permission. He'd promise Stiles the moon if he wanted it,
honestly, and try to keep that promise. He looked down and cautiously reached
out, nudging his fingers underneath Stiles' palm in an effort to hold his hand
again, staring down at them. "You just have to let me keep you safe," he added
quietly, not looking up.
Stiles was silent for a long time after Derek finished speaking before he
finally shifted his hand just so, so that he could hold Derek’s hand tightly in
his own. This was different than at the dinner table. This was completely
private between the two of them as they more or less poured out their souls to
each other and it was intense and scary and Stiles just needed something that
he could focus on, something to anchor him down.
“That’s not what I want,” he finally murmured quietly, so quietly that if Derek
wasn’t a werewolf, he probably wouldn’t have heard, “Living in a house far away
from you and Kenna? That’s… that’s the last thing I want.” Stiles scooted
closer, ever so slightly, wanting to get more points of connection between them
but not having the courage to actually do it. He knew he shouldn’t question
what was happening, but he couldn’t help himself. “It hurts,” Stiles went on to
say, trying hard to verbalize the tumultuous feelings swirling inside him, “I
think about leaving you, and it hurts. Hell, I think about not seeing you for a
day and it hurts and that… that scares me Derek. I should hate you, I should
want to leave, but I don’t. Everything I’ve been taught for my whole life says
that I shouldn’t be happy here, but I am. I love my father, but at the risk of
him trying to take me away if he came here and met you… I’m not so sure I want
him here because I want to stay.” Stiles shut up then, feeling like he had said
way too much and that it was someone else’s turn to bare their souls.
“What did you mean,” Stiles asked, “When you said that you have to keep me
safe? I mean, I survived how many years out there before I met you, and I was
pretty safe. Why do you need to make sure I’m safe?” He was fishing. Stiles was
fishing for answers so that he could try and piece this thing together and see
just how much of this they were both feeling.
The more Stiles talked, the more shocked Derek became and he turned his head to
stare at the younger man with disbelief in his eyes. When Stiles finally
finished after asking Derek what he'd meant when he said he needed to keep
Stiles safe, Derek couldn't focus on the words just yet. He was too focused on
the part where Stiles said he would choose Derek and Kenna over his own father.
This definitely didn't seem like it was altogether natural. It seemed very
supernatural and if it was then how much of it was their own choice and how
much of it was just taking another choice away from them? Derek wasn't really
fond of not having a choice in the matter and Stiles already had enough
freedoms taken away from him he shouldn't have the freedom to choose who he
loves taken away from him too.
He swallowed thickly and then Stiles' question finally came to the forefront of
his mind again and he made himself focus on that instead. Since Stiles had been
completely and utterly honest, Derek figured it was his turn to return the
favor. He opened and closed his mouth, obviously having trouble finding the
words to explain. He made a noise of frustration and looked away, taking a deep
breath and clearing his mind. It was much easier to gather his thoughts when
Stiles wasn't mesmerizing him with bright lips and amber eyes.
"Every time I think about how you were out there on your own… it terrifies me.
I can't help but think about all the things that could've happened that
would've gotten you killed and then...I'd never have met you. The thought that
your existence will one day...end," Derek shook his head and his claws
lengthened without his permission. He examined them and then glared at his
hands in concentration until they were blunt and human again. "Now that you're
here and now that I have the ability to protect you, I'll do everything I can
to do just that. There are...Deucalion would do anything just to get underneath
my skin. I don't know why but he's made it his mission to destroy every good
thing I have. I can't watch him destroy you too. If I lose you...I don't-I'm
not sure what would happen to me. It terrifies me that every time I find myself
thinking about the future you're always right there in it with me, next to me,
filling...whatever role you want. I've never wanted to be around anyone as much
as I want to be around you. I liked when you slept in my bed because you woke
up smelling like me and it was right, like something inside my chest settled
and told him this was good. You're... intriguing to say the least and I want to
give you everything, anything that you want if it means you'll stay."
By the time he finished he was glaring at the water rushing by and his whole
face and ears were flaming red all the way down his neck. His heart rate was
rapid and his breathing sped up as well, bracing himself for a negative
reaction from Stiles. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, honestly.
‘It was right. It was right. It was right.’ Those three words resonated over
and over in Stiles’ head because they were the exact words that he himself
thought when it came to a lot of things concerning Derek. Being together felt
right, walking together felt right, painting together, eating together,
walking, talking, sleeping together. It all felt right. Could this really
possibly be more than some strange one-sided thing? It couldn’t be. Stiles
wanted to ask, but there was no way he was going to reveal something like that,
even though the question was burning on the tip of his tongue.
“Can you feel it too then?” Stiles blurted out suddenly, his eyes widening when
he realized that he had actually spoken out loud. That was supposed to be a
thought that he kept to himself, but apparently his mind had seen fit to just
let the entire world know what was going on inside his head. It was too late to
take it back now, so there was nothing left for Stiles to do but explain
himself. “It’s just… umm… when I’m around you I feel this… this pull, I guess?
Just this weird feeling in the center of my chest that tells me I should be
closer to you or that I should be making you happy and stuff like that. And
then when I actually do the thing, something weird just settles in my chest
like all is right with the world, like you said, it’s just right. It’s…
instinctual. I mean, it’s really just a feeling, nothing more. It’s not like
I’m compelled to cling to you like an octopus, because clearly I haven’t done
that, but I just… I don’t know. It’s stupid. You know what? Forget I said
anything. Let’s just pretend I didn’t mention it, and that will be that.”
Stiles’ cheeks were burning with embarrassment and he hated how his mouth could
run away from him like that. It constantly got him into trouble, but this was
far worse than any other situation he could think of. This was intense and
intimate and scary, and Stiles would much rather be mouthing off to someone and
getting his ass beat.
Stiles turned his face away from Derek’s, looking down the opposite end of the
dock to hide his blushing face. He was honestly afraid of what the werewolf was
going to say. It was entirely possible that Stiles had just ruined whatever
weird precarious relationship they had had between them. He had never had
someone that could get under his skin as quickly as Derek had. It was crazy,
and Stiles really didn’t know what to think except that he wanted to run. He
was a much bigger fan of ignoring a problem until it eventually went away,
rather than facing it head-on like this. How was he even supposed to look at
the other man now that Derek knew he was having weird pulls and urges? Stiles
could only be grateful that he hadn’t used the second word. That would have
made it sound a lot more sexual, and though his thoughts had gone there more
than once, that was definitely something he was going to keep to himself.
Derek could hardly believe what Stiles was saying to him because that was
exactly what he kept feeling only he'd just associated it with being a werewolf
and being attracted to Stiles though he should have known better because it
went so far past being physically attracted to him. It was being emotionally
attached to him, wanting to make him happy, wanting to protect him and feed him
and heal him and take care of him right from the beginning. Derek had always
been a compassionate guy, that's what his mother always said, but this had gone
beyond that and he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. He was positively
shocked and awed that it wasn't just his wolf wanting Stiles, it was Stiles
wanting him back in the exact same way almost like...a soul bond.
"Soul bond," Derek whispered to himself, eyes wide and in awe as he repeated
the words his mother had spoken to him in the kitchen. Apparently she didn't
need to be one half of the party to see what was going on. She could just tell.
Maybe it was part of being an alpha but...then Derek should have seen it too.
Maybe because she was more powerful. "Stiles," he said quietly, squeezing
Stiles' hand and waiting until he looked back. "It's not just you. I thought it
was just my wolf, I thought it was instincts to protect you but it's...more
than that. I think."
Stiles could barely hear Derek whisper something, but he couldn’t actually make
out what he said, so he kept his face turned away, willing his blush to die
down. It wasn’t until Derek said his name, a gentle plea to turn around, that
he actually looked back at the werewolf. His brows furrowed as he listened to
Derek speak. Though he was admittedly glad that he wasn’t sitting here
embarrassing himself and that it was actually mutual, there was just something
weird.
“You’re talking like you know what this is,” Stiles said slowly, looking at
Derek with an almost accusing expression. He had been struggling over this for
days, had spent hours staring at books and it was possible that Derek had been
sitting here with all the knowledge he needed the entire time. If that was
indeed the case, Stiles was going to be angry. Well, not really super angry,
but just irritated that he had wasted his time when he could have been
researching other things. His mind had gotten so caught up in the fact that
Derek might know what was happening between them that he momentarily forgot
that it was happening between them. As in, they were both experiencing these
feelings. Stiles found himself wondering if they were experiencing all the same
feelings or just the emotional ones. He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t
really all that important, but his libido begged to differ.
Derek shook his head and squeezed Stiles' fingers, seeing the flash of
irritation and accusation in his eyes like Derek had known all along and didn't
share with the class. "I didn't. I don't," he said quickly, wanting Stiles to
believe him; that he was learning all of this just like Stiles was. "Not
really. My- when I went into the kitchen with my mother she didn't really give
me much information but she mentioned you and I and...she told me to check my
old family book, to read on soul bonds and soul sharing. I don't really know
what that means. I honestly just thought it was me. I'm as shocked to find out
about this as you are."
He took a deep breath and then looked down at their hands, rubbing the pad of
his thumb over Stiles' wrist for a minute before pulling it up to his nose to
smell. Stiles smiled like home and pack and safety and Derek's sheets and
shampoo and himself and Derek wanted to roll around in it, in him. "You have no
idea how you smell to me," he mumbled, a low nearly sub-vocal rumble - almost a
purr if werewolves could purr - rolling through his chest. His voice was kind
of far off like Stiles' scent was a drug and he was an addict. He wasn't so far
gone to know boundaries though. Just because they might be magically bonded or
something didn't mean Stiles would give him a blank check to rub all over him
like Derek wanted. They needed to tread carefully.
Stiles felt like the term ‘soul bonds’ was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t be
sure. It was certainly something that he had never heard of for sure and
sounded a little too fairytale to be true. He opened his mouth to say this when
Derek lifted his hand to his nose and spoke with a voice that was downright low
and enticing, making Stiles promptly choke on his words, face flushing pink
against his will. Damn capillaries.
“You know, you never scented me,” Stiles blurted out without thinking.
Apparently, the first thing that had popped into his head had seen fit to also
pop out of his mouth. He remembered how Derek had pressed his face into Stiles
neck right at the dinner table when Deaton had mentioned him being an emissary
and Stiles felt butterflies dancing around in his stomach. Could he really
smell so much different to Derek compared to how he smelled to other
werewolves? It was an interesting concept, and Stiles couldn’t help it when he
got a bit distracted, thinking about various ways he could find out the effects
of emotional attachment on scent and possibly enlisting Scott’s help. Of
course, that brought him back to the fact that that meant Derek might have some
kind of emotional, magical, soul bonding attachment to him and he turned to
look at the werewolf, not really sure what he should be saying in this
situation since he had already made a fool of himself. Still, that pull in his
chest was telling him that Derek scenting him was probably the best idea ever.
Derek's eyes snapped up to Stiles' and he dropped their hands back to Stiles'
thigh. Stiles was...pretty much inviting Derek to scent him wasn't he? It
sounded like he was and Derek definitely wanted to get all up on that and make
sure Stiles wouldn't smell like anyone else but him. It was everything he
wanted but was that really what Stiles wanted? He needed to be absolutely
certain.
"Are you- do you want me to? Scent you, I mean?" he asked just to make sure,
not wanting to step over lines or break boundaries or push where he wasn't
welcome. He wanted Stiles to want it as much as he did or at least at all.
Stiles needed to be completely sure because once Derek started he didn't know
if he'd be able to stop until he was satisfied. He wanted to offer to wait
until they were at home but he might push too far too fast if he didn't have
anything to hold him back from taking what he wanted and he knew he had to be
careful so he wouldn't screw this up.
Stiles was a little bit nervous, though he didn’t know why, and he was sure
that his heartbeat reflected that. He felt like a preteen asking their crush if
they could kiss them goodnight or something, and he was pretty sure that he
would be the girl in this situation if his heart was anything to go by. And
also his palms that were beginning to sweat slightly. In all honesty, he wasn’t
exactly sure what scenting entailed, but Derek almost seemed to light up at the
idea and Stiles was admittedly curious. Besides, it’s not like he was asking
Derek to screw him. There was really nothing for Stiles to be nervous about,
especially not out in the open on a dock like they were.
“Yeah,” Stiles finally answered, proud of himself for keeping his voice steady
and not letting it betray his petty nerves, “Yeah, I want you to scent me.” He
figured that being as blunt and straightforward as possible would work better
for the two of them, despite the fact that it made his palms sweat even more,
which was really gross and he was starting to feel self conscious about holding
Derek’s hand now.
Derek was fairly certain he'd never heard such wonderful words spoken. He met
Stiles' gaze just to make sure but then didn't waste any time pushing into
Stiles' space. He had to be careful so that they wouldn't end up falling into
the water but he pushed his face into Stiles' neck, rubbing his face - stubble
and all - all over every part of skin he could reach. He slid his hands
underneath Stiles' jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, setting it aside and
then getting rid of his own. It was getting too hot for it anyways. He was
losing himself to Stiles' scent, unable and unwilling to hold himself back. He
didn't think twice about pulling the tails of Stiles' shirt from his pants and
letting his hands move up to the soft skin of Stiles' back. Their dessert was
forgotten as Derek focused on getting as much of his scent over Stiles as he
could possibly manage without claiming him right then and there, getting him
naked and marking him. Derek settled for closing his mouth over Stiles' pulse
point, licking and mouthing at his skin and the taut tendons underneath. He was
rumbling soft and content and pleased, low and deep in his chest. Somehow
between one breath and the next Derek had manhandled Stiles up and into his lap
to get more points of contact, only just barely holding himself back. He would
never do anything to harm Stiles. He just wanted Stiles to smell like him and
no one else. He wanted everyone to know that Stiles was his. Not in ownership
but just in general. No one would take him away unless Stiles chose it himself.
If Stiles thought he was prepared for scenting, he was dead wrong. At first it
wasn’t all the different from the dinner table. Derek just shoved his face into
the crook of Stiles’ neck and Stiles forgot to breathe for a second or two.
Nothing he couldn’t handle. Of course, that was what he thought until he felt
Derek’s hands. He had realized that Derek had taken off his own jacket, but was
surprised when hands came to remove his own as well, even more so when they un-
tucked his shirt from his pants and promptly slid underneath the fabric.
Derek’s hands felt like brands against his skin and Stiles was positive that he
wasn’t breathing anymore. When Derek’s mouth attached itself to his skin and
Stiles was tugged into the man’s lap seconds later, an audible gasp left his
mouth before he bit down on his lip hard. Without even realizing, his hands had
come up to steady himself by tangling in Derek’s hair, his neck had tipped to
the side to give Derek more room, and his legs had wrapped around the older
man’s waist. Stiles definitely liked scenting. His heart was pounding in his
ears and his entire body felt hot as he stayed completely still, but it still
felt awesome and perfect and right. Stiles tried to keep himself calm. He was a
teenage boy after all, and there was an extremely attractive individual more or
less feeling him up. It was a situation he had never found himself in before to
say the least. A quick thought flitted through his mind, wondering what sex was
like if this was just scenting. Definitely not the kind of thoughts he wanted
to be having in his current position. Stiles tried to shift his thoughts to
dead puppies and naked grandmothers rather than the strong hands on his back
and the warm mouth on his neck.
Derek could smell Stiles' arousal and it certainly did not make it any easier
for him to keep himself from stripping them both down naked and taking what he
wanted. His family was less than a mile away though and if they really strained
their ears could probably even hear them though he doubted highly that anyone
was paying them any attention or even really noticed their absence. He kept
himself in check though as he mouthed at the long column of Stiles' throat,
fingers tangling in his messy brown hair and tugging very gently just to get
Stiles' chin up even further. He licked at and grazed his teeth over the knobs
where Stiles' collarbones met in the middle at his sternum just under the
hollow of his throat, the small little 'u' shaped dip. He wanted his scent
everywhere and the best way to get Stiles to smell like him was, obviously,
sex. Which wasn't going to happen. At least not right now. Derek was getting
hopeful that it might happen at some point though, even if he didn't actually
give himself permission to hope. He wanted Stiles and it sure as hell seemed
like Stiles wanted him too but there was still the niggling thought that asked
him how much of this was Stiles' own decision and free will and how much was he
being influenced by whatever bond had connected them at the hearts. Derek
managed to get the top buttons of Stiles' shirt undone, just enough to pull the
collar aside and attach his mouth to Stiles' collarbone. The next best thing
for scenting was leaving hickeys behind and Derek did just that, sucking hard
at the soft skin that he found to leave a dark angry bruise behind which would
be covered up when Stiles' shirt was re-buttoned. Derek left a trail of them
along Stiles' clavicle, marking Stiles as his without giving much thought to
it. He didn't want anyone else to have Stiles. When he was mostly satisfied,
Derek wound his arms tightly around Stiles' waist, hands underneath his shirt
to get at skin, and Derek buried his nose at the base of Stiles' throat, head
on Stiles' shoulder. He breathed heavily and a low rumble vibrated through his
chest with obvious pleasure. Stiles smelled so much like him, like his. Derek
barely held himself back from growling out a possessive mine but he managed to
choke it back, not wanting to sound like he thought Stiles was property.
Because Stiles wasn't. Derek just wanted to keep him for probably ever.
As hard as Stiles tried, the second Derek tugged his head up even farther to
lick at his skin, he was done for. Dead puppies and naked grandmas couldn’t
save him now. Derek’s mouth and his tongue and his hands were the only things
that Stiles could think about and boy, was he thinking about them. Thinking
about what they were doing now, thinking about what they could be doing later,
thinking about what he wanted them to be doing all the time. Stiles had to
actively keep himself from rocking forward in search of friction for what was
becoming a rapidly growing problem. His breathing grew labored as Derek sucked
hickeys into his skin and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, trying as hard as he
could to keep quiet. He wasn’t actually sure how far away they were and he
wasn’t sure how far werewolf hearing extended, but he was sure that he didn’t
want Derek’s family to hear him moaning like a pornstar just from a few
hickeys. His nails were digging into Derek’s shoulders where his hands had
moved when Derek had begun unbuttoning the top of his shirt, and if Stiles
shifted a little closer to Derek so more of their bodies were touching, no one
had to know. He was borderline panting when Derek finally took his mouth off of
Stiles’ skin and pressed his face back into the crook of his neck. Stiles was
positive that he was going to have some wicked stubble burn, but right now he
didn’t care because all he could feel was Derek’s satisfied growl vibrating
through his entire body, Derek’s strong arms wrapped tightly around him. He was
pretty sure that that signaled the end of the proceedings and Stiles would be
lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed. Or a lot disappointed. “Fuck
me, holy shit, Derek,” Stiles breathed, his words sounding a lot more like a
moan than he had intended, “That was… wow… okay, now I kinda get why you didn’t
scent me when I offered that day we went shopping and we were eating lunch.
Definitely not appropriate behavior around, you know, other people. But yeah,
Jesus fuck, my god. I should probably stop talking, but I kind of can’t because
if I do, I honestly don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from just like
humping the life out of you like a preteen who discovered his hand for the
first time and holy crap, yeah no I should really stop talking, please forget I
said any of this at all. Yeah, let’s just pretend I didn’t kill the moment by
opening my mouth. Yeah? Yeah.” Stiles finally shut the hell up, his face
burning, but he made no move to get away from Derek.
Derek's growl got just a bit louder as Stiles started talking but not in
annoyance, rather in pleasure as he couldn't help himself rocking his hips
forward a bit. "Stiles," he said in a deep, rough voice against Stiles' neck.
"If I fucked you it wouldn't be once and I'd never want you to leave," he
admitted, licking a stripe up the long line of Stiles' neck to just behind his
ear before scraping his teeth over Stiles' lobe. "I'd want to be able to keep
you and I'm not sure you'd want that. You're so young. I shouldn't want you
like I do. You drive me crazy." Derek's fangs descended and he scraped them
very gently over Stiles' collarbone and the hickeys he'd left there, careful
not to break the skin. He knew his eyes were crimson red and he kept himself as
in control as he could but he couldn't make his eyes go back to normal. He
pulled away from Stiles' skin and turned his head up to breathe fresh air but
all he smelled was Stiles. After a moment he got himself in check and made a
soft noise in the back of his throat. "You have no idea what you do to me, I
swear. God, Stiles," he growled softly, biting down with human teeth onto
Stiles' shoulder.
Stiles full on moaned when Derek rocked against him, which was embarrassing
because they really barely touched. His grip on Derek's shoulders tightened and
he was probably wrinkling the fabric in a very telltale way, but he really
couldn't care. Not when Derek was using that voice to talk to him about fucking
him and keeping him and how much Derek wants Stiles, which is honestly really
hard to believe. Stiles' eyes shot open when he felt Derek bite into his
shoulder, and he hadn't even realized he closed them. This was getting out of
control extremely quickly and as much as Stiles wanted nothing more than to
continue what was happened, it probably wasn't the best idea out in the open
with their nice clothes on. Stiles would much prefer their nice clothes to be
off, and how the hell was he going to sleep in the same room as Derek tonight?
Still, Stiles couldn't help himself when he slid his hands up to thread through
Derek's hair and he couldn't stop himself from shifting his body closer to the
older man, another moan spilling from his lips as he did so, a bright red blush
staining his cheeks. "We... We should probably be heading back soon," Stiles
breathed, sounding a lot less wrecked than he felt, "They're going to be
missing us." Despite his words, he only moved closer to Derek, the complete
opposite of what he just said they should do.
Derek sighed against Stiles' shoulder and just tightened his arms around
Stiles' waist, obviously not ready to let go. Stiles didn't actually say
anything about... anything Derek had said really. But he didn't want to bring
it up again. He wasn't sure if it was on purpose, Stiles just not sure how to
say he wasn't interested and only got an erection because he was a teenage
virgin who'd never been touched (and wasn't that a great thought for Derek), or
if he just didn't know what to say. Derek wished he knew which it was. He
swallowed thickly and then nodded, pulling back to look at Stiles carefully.
"If I ever...if I ever go to far or do something you don't want, please tell
me. You don't have to agree to...any of this just because I want it. If you
don't want it, if you don't... Want me, you can tell me. I'll understand. I'll
never push you into anything," he said solemnly, eyes trained on Stiles'.
"Oh fuck," Stiles said, a small realization on his face, "I didn't... okay.
Yeah, I have this weird thing where I either say everything inside my head and
don't actually talk or I talk about everything and don't really use my head.
It's a 50/50 shot on which one happens really, but no yeah, I though you know,
my raging teenage hard on was kind of proof enough? You know that this is an
enjoyable activity? Something I would like to do more often maybe? I mean,
maybe we should find out more about this 'soul bonds' thing first, but yeah,
I'm totally down for whatever is happening right now. Sex, also a thing I'm
down for, if you're down for it, which I really can't believe that you are
because I mean, look at me and look at you. Huge discrepancy there. Maybe the
whole 'keeping' thing can be discussed at a later date, because that seems
rather serious and like it needs to be talked about, but no for right now
everything is really just yeah." He shut up when he realized how much he had
been talking, but it happened when he caught nervous or excited, both of which
he was right now. He just wanted to make sure that Derek knew that things were
alright. They probably should be heading back soon though, after Stiles has a
chance to calm down. Kenna is probably wondering where they are. Stiles hoped
to god that no one was jumping to what may now be some correct assumptions.
Derek listened to Stiles speaking and smiled a bit but still looked uncertain.
"Getting hard only means you're physically attracted to me, Stiles. It doesn't
mean you want me," he pointed out reasonably as he ran his hands up and down
Stiles' back gently before sighing. He licked his lips and closed his eyes and
focused in on his hearing until he could tune into what was going on at the
house. "They're just finishing up dessert and then we're gonna go on a run," he
said with a nod of his head, hesitating before pressing a kiss to Stiles'
cheek. "We can talk more about this later. About… us. We can learn more about
soul bonding and decide where to go from there."
Stiles sat there in Derek's lap, completely frozen after the man kissed his
cheek. It had been soft, a brush of lips against skin, but Stiles still sat
there dumbfounded. It seemed like Derek was moving to stand them both up but
before he could, Stiles grabbed his face. He was wearing this strange
expression, like he just wanted to try something and he hoped Derek would let
him. Before he could lose his nerve, Stiles brought them together and he
pressed his lips to Derek's in a chaste kiss. Almost as soon as their lips
touched, something shot through Stiles like electricity. "Did you feel that?"
he asked incredulously as he pulled back, too intrigued to feel embarrassed
about what he just did. He knew at some point he would have to clarify to Derek
that as hot as his body was, his personality added like twenty points on a
scale of ten, but for now he was a little more interested in that spark.
Derek was surprised at the kiss and also at the fact that when Stiles grabbed
his face he didn't feel the need to growl. Usually if anyone grabbed his face
like that his fangs would come out but all he wanted to do was push into them.
He did in fact feel the spark of electricity shoot through him when their lips
touched and he nodded. It felt like electricity shooting through every nerve
ending in his body, down his spine to his toes and all the way to his
fingertips and even to his scalp. He leaned in to test it and again the same
delicious spark shot through him but this time he didn't pull away immediately
but rather continued to kiss Stiles slowly and tenderly, trying to pour himself
into it so Stiles could know how serious he was about it.
Stiles hadn't really expected Derek to kiss him again, though at the same time,
he didn't know why he was surprised. That same electricity, that same energy
was pulsing through him with the kiss, but he didn't pull away as Derek
continued. Miraculously, it actually made him calm down. He suspected that it
was the pace of the kiss, slow and gentle, rather than passionate and leading
towards something bigger, but Stiles found that he liked this better. At least
for right now. Kissing Derek felt like something he should be spending all of
his time doing. He could feel butterflies fluttering away in his stomach and it
felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest, but he continued to
kiss Derek until he had to pull away to breathe because he'd forgotten to. "We
should go back," Stiles said breathlessly, "Don't want you to miss that run."
He gave Derek a small, teasing smile. He doubted anything could bring him down
tonight.
Derek smiled a bit and then sighed, pressing his forehead to Stiles' for a
moment. "Yeah. Okay," he agreed slowly and eventually got himself and Stiles to
their feet. Gently he reached out and eyed the dark bruises on Stiles'
collarbone before he re-buttoned Stiles' shirt, tightening up his tie again. He
tucked Stiles' shirttails back into his pants and then smiled almost shyly like
he was a teenager again with his first crush instead of a twenty three year old
adult who'd just essentially mauled Stiles with his mouth. He leaned down to
pick up Stiles' coat and helped him back into it and then hesitated before
leaning in slowly to kiss Stiles again very softly and tenderly. "It's usually
not that much longer, just the run and then people start to head out. The cubs
are usually tired by then."
Stiles could feel how red his face was as Derek got him dressed again.
Honestly, he could do it himself, but Derek seemed intent on doing it for him
and hell if Stiles was going to rain on that parade, even if it was a bit
embarrassing. He opened his eyes belatedly after the second kiss, taking a
moment to process the fact that Derek had actually said words. "Hmm? Oh, yeah,
that's fine," Stiles finally said, "Don't rush on my account, I'm fine." He
leaned down to pick up their mostly untouched desserts. Some horrible part of
his brain supplied that Derek had Stiles for dessert instead, and fuck if that
didn't make his blush spread even further across his face. The two of them had
just hit the edge of the clearing when Stiles stopped dead in his tracks.
"Everyone's going to be able to tell aren't they?" he said, as though the
thought had just occurred to him.
Derek looked over at Stiles when he froze and then smiled a bit, shaking his
head. "They'll only be able to tell that I've scented you which is perfectly
normal especially considering how many other werewolves are here and my
little...display when we first arrived. They'll just think I got overprotective
which I am. They won't think we had sex, don't worry. It would... Smell much
different and more potent," he answered honestly with a slight blush of his
own. "We don't have to tell them anything. Not until you want to. Though we
should tell Kenna since she lives with us."
Stiles started walking with Derek again, albeit slower now as he thought. "Do
they... Are they gonna... Will they know exactly what... kind of scenting took
place?" he finally asked, figuring out how to phrase his question, "Because I'm
going to go ahead and assume that that's not typical, unless it is, in which
case Kenna and I can swap stories and compare and shit like that." He was
completely joking about the second part, giving Derek a playful nudge so that
he knew he wasn't serious. Still, those hickeys had felt pretty serious and
Stiles was sure that when he showered tonight, there would be a line of dark
bruises across his skin. The thought made him bite his lip, the idea of Derek
marking him doing weird things with his head.
"They won't know unless one of us tells them and I never needed to scent Kenna
because we grew up together. The scent of pack is a part of her natural scent
now just as it will be for you once you spend enough time with me, with us,"
Derek answered, wanting to give Stiles whatever information and answers that he
could provide. "We're getting close though so if you don't want them to hear
anything you might not want to say it. We can talk about it later and I'll
answer any questions that you have. Okay? No topics off limit if you can wait
until we get home."
Stiles kept the comment to himself about how much that sounded like some weird,
sexual reward system because Derek was right. He could see the house through
the trees. Scott bounded out of the house almost as soon as they broke the tree
line.
"Where've you been man?" he asked with a smile on his face, "And bro, you
completely reek of Derek."
"Yeah well, Derek was just showing me around some of the property," Stiles
answered with a shrug.
"No, it's more than that," Scott said, taking a few steps closer until he was
practically in Stiles' face.
"I love you bro, but not like that," Stiles said with a grin. Scott just glared
at him and shoved him gently. Apparently he wasn't too keen on the whole just
been scented thing, or maybe he was being intentionally oblivious. Either way,
he had been sufficiently distracted, and the rest of the party began to filter
outside in preparation for the run.
Derek glared at Scott but it was more like a sibling thing than an angry thing.
He knew Scott was mostly just teasing. Derek turned to Stiles with a slightly
anxious slightly anticipatory gleam in his eyes. "Fair warning, there will be a
lot of nakedness in about five seconds. So don't freak out. We don't have a lot
of modesty within the pack. Or any at all really," he said and as if on cue,
all the wolves started to strip out of their good clothes and laid them out
carefully to be put back on upon their return.
The little kids were all running about screeching and giggling playfully until
the first one burst into a ball of fur mid air and the rest followed suit,
shifting into tiny little wolf cubs with multihued fur. The rest of the family
started shifting as well and Derek waited beside Stiles until Kenna bounced
over with a smile.
"I'll stay with Stiles, Derek. You should go shift before your mom bites you in
the butt again," she said with a laugh and Derek rolled his eyes before looking
over at Stiles.
"I'll be back soon okay?" he assured him before he and Scott headed over to get
undressed and shifted.
Allison was waiting for Scott, already naked, and her eyes shone gold as she
waited for him to strip down and together they shifted into a pair of gorgeous
looking wolves. Scott had a soft brown coat the color of milk chocolate and
Allison's was snow white in comparison with small grey speckles on her flank.
Derek didn't bother to hide himself from Stiles' view as he systematically
pulled off his coat and then his vest and tie and shirt; toeing out of his
shoes and stripping off his socks before letting his trousers and boxers fall
as well. All of his clothes were folded into a neat pile on a clean table and
then he rolled his head on his shoulders and shifted. Every movement was
calculated and controlled and by the time he was fully shifted he was quite
obviously bigger than all but two of the wolves present. He glanced at the pack
and then at Stiles and then trotted over quickly, looking up at Stiles and
Kenna and giving a wolfy grin that might have looked scary had his tongue not
been lolling out the side as he butted his nose against Stiles' hand.
Stiles didn’t get a chance to respond to Derek’s comment about the nakedness
before everyone was undressing. He averted his eyes politely, his cheeks
staining pink ever so slightly. The kids were actually kind of cute, running
around naked as the day they were born before they turned into the cutest
little wolves that Stiles had ever seen in his life. Everyone began shifting
after that, and Stiles was surrounded by wolves. They were all gorgeous and
Stiles found himself wondering how anyone could hate them until he remembered
the things that they do to humans. He kept forgetting that the situation he had
found himself in was not at all typical.
Stiles didn’t bother trying to hide the way that he stared as Derek undressed.
It didn’t seem like Derek was trying all that hard to hide himself either. When
he was down to his underwear, Stiles looked away, his face bright red. He could
see Scott looking at him weird, but Stiles didn’t really care. Derek was hot
and Stiles was going to look.
“You’ve got some drool there,” Kenna murmured with a small nudge. Stiles
flushed scarlet and nudged her back.
“Shut up,” he hissed, a playful smile on his face. Derek came over then, fully
shifted, and he shoved his nose against Stiles’ hand. Stiles’ smile widened and
he couldn’t stop himself from running his hands through the fur on Derek’s
head, scratching behind his ears just a little bit. “Go on,” he murmured, “I’ll
be fine without you for a few minutes.” He gave Derek one more rub before
stepping away and standing next to Kenna. Once the yard was empty, the two of
them went inside together.
“So you guys were gone for a long time,” Kenna commented, feigning nonchalance.
“Yeah, yeah, I see what you’re implying,” Stiles said, an unimpressed look on
his face.
“So? Am I right?” Kenna said with a nudge. Stiles stuffed one of the forgotten
cookies from his plate into his mouth and avoided the question, a blush on his
face. “Ha! I’m totally right,” Kenna said with a smirk.
“It’s complicated,” Stiles said, his words muffled by his dessert.
“Chew your food,” Kenna chastised. Stiles just made a face at her, but he
swallowed his mouthful.
“It’s… there’s this things between us,” Stiles began as they went to sit in the
living room alone, “His mother told him it was called a soul bond or something,
but neither of us really knows what that is. All I know is that I said he could
scent me, and his entire face lit up like a Christmas tree. He stuck his face
in my neck and he slid his hands under the back of my shirt and then he pulled
me into his lap and he started biting at my neck…” Stiles trailed off as he
started remembering, a blank look coming onto his face.
“Earth to Stiles,” Kenna said, snapping her fingers in front Stiles’ face.
“Sorry,” he said, a sheepish look on his face, “Anyway, yeah, he was basically
like purring and then there was some unbuttoning and some hickeys and some
slight frottage and then we kissed and holy shit it was like I was struck by
lightening.” Kenna smiled at him.
“Sounds like you two got your asses in gear,” she said.
“Shut up,” Stiles said with a grin.
“So what’s going to happen from here?” Kenna asked.
“We don’t know,” Stiles said with a shrug, “We’re going to find out exactly
what soul bonds are and go from there.”
Running with his family was one of Derek's favorite things because he could
finally be who he was - a wolf. He loved the freedom and the way that human
emotions were condensed into much simpler and easier to deal with forms which
was why he went running a lot to blow of steam. Things were easier to handle in
wolf form and he'd spent a lot of time that way after becoming alpha. So much
so that he very nearly went feral until his sisters forced him back from the
edge and Laura forced Derek to take alpha lessons from her for a month and a
half until he got his control down and he could shift without worrying he
wouldn't be able to change back.
Running now was a release and every so often one or two of them would loop back
to round up the cubs and spur them on but otherwise the little ones weren't in
any danger. They were the top of the food chain in these woods. They play
wrestled and rolled around each other, nipping with tiny baby teeth. Derek
could already tell that Hailey and Hannah would make good alphas like their
mother since they were Laura's oldest and next in line for alpha after her.
Derek didn't know how long they were gone because time seemed to slip by him
much quicker than usual when he ran and he knew it was well on the way to
midnight by the time everyone tumbled back into the clearing. His older
brother, Elliot, - with his soft grey and black coat - decided to tackle him
from the side and they went tumbling out of the group, snarling playfully and
biting at each other as they wrestled for dominance even though Elliot wasn't
an Alpha.
Kenna heard the noise of the pack outside as well as the other humans did and
she smiled at Stiles. "C'mon, they're back," she told him, checking her phone
that told her it was about ten forty and they'd been gone a few hours already.
She led the way outside with everyone else and spotted Derek and Elliot
immediately, chuckling to herself and pointing them out to Stiles. "That's
Derek and his brother," she said, shaking her head and watching them play. All
the little cubs were gathered together to watch them with fascination but were
careful to keep their distance just in case.
Stiles had been contemplating taking a nap when the pack finally returned. They
certainly enjoyed their running. It reminded Stiles of how he used to run
through the woods, not running away but just running. Maybe he would go
tomorrow. Derek’s property would probably be safe enough for him to go alone.
He wouldn’t want to slow Derek down or anything after all.
Kenna didn’t have to point Derek out to Stiles. He could already pick him out
from everyone else in the pack. Watching him play fight was a little surreal.
It was clear that the game wasn’t serious, but at the same time, it alluded to
the power they held and the pain they could inflict. It was kind of scarily
beautiful. Teeth snapping playfully, eyes glowing, muscles working under
rippling fur. Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off them. Until he had to. A
chocolate brown wolf bowled into him, knocking him back onto his rear end
before shoving its face against Stiles’ chest to rub against him a bit. The
wolf pulled back after seconds, tongue lolling out of its mouth as he brought
his head down low and his butt up high, wiggling it in the same way that a dog
would when they wanted to play.
“Scott?” Stiles asked a bit incredulously. The wolf gave a small bark. Stiles
turned back towards Kenna. “What do I do?”
“Wrestle with him,” Kenna said with a smile, “He won’t hurt you.” Stiles looked
back towards Scott who was still in the same position before giving a shrug. He
launched himself at Scott, knocking them both over and soon they were playing
around themselves. Scott was much stronger than Stiles was, but he used it
carefully. He didn’t snap his jaws like Derek and his brother did, he only
pressed his muzzle against Stiles as though alluding to a bite and nudging him
around instead. Stiles was laughing and smiling, not really trying all that
hard to win a fight that he knew he couldn’t. Within minutes, Stiles was
underneath Scott who had plopped down on top of him to keep him there, causing
a whoosh of air to run out of Stiles’ lungs.
“Alright, you win,” Stiles wheezed while laughing, “Christ, what do you eat
man? I think you’ve gotten fatter since you left.” All Scott did in response
was lick Stiles’ face. “Oh gross, that’s bro spit,” Stiles jokingly complained,
wiping his face with the one hand that wasn’t trapped under Scott’s enormous
body. Scott made a really strange choking sound and it wasn’t until Stiles
looked at his face that he realized Scott was trying to laugh at him. Stiles
narrowed his eyes, but before he could do anything, a second wolf called to
Scott and he was up like a shot. It had to be Allison. Stiles propped himself
up onto his elbows as he watched them nuzzle against one another before
shifting back so they could get into their clothes.
Just like emotions were easier to deal with as a wolf, affection was easier to
convey. And when Derek was done wrestling with Elliot, pinning him down and
placing his teeth at Elliot’s throat playfully until he gave in, Derek trotted
back over to where Scott had just left Stiles. Derek grinned his dumb wolfy
grin with his tongue hanging out the side and he nudged his wet black nose
against Stiles' and then against Stiles' cheek and neck, huffing a bit when he
realized that Scott had scented Stiles and masked some of Derek's own scent
which just wouldn't do. Stiles needed to smell like him and Derek would make it
happen. He shoved his wet nose back into Stiles' neck again and nuzzled in,
pushing his huge body as close as he could get; much bigger than Scott, as a
beta, was.
Stiles hadn’t really seen Derek coming until his huge, hulking figure was
directly in Stiles’ space. Derek’s nose was cold against his skin, making
Stiles jump a bit, but after that he calmed down right away. Stiles brought his
hands up to ruffle the fur on Derek’s head a bit before the large wolf began
rubbing his face against Stiles. It was different from when Scott had done it,
since there was more weight behind the action, but Stiles didn’t have a problem
until, in a similar fashion to Scott, Derek plopped down right on top of him,
seemingly trying to get as close to Stiles as possible.
“Umm, hi there,” Stiles wheezed out. The weight made it harder to breathe, but
Stiles could manage well enough. It was strangely calming and Stiles moved his
hands until he could pet Derek gently, rhythmically. His head fell back to hit
the ground, his eyes shut, and he felt completely relaxed.
“Come on you two, there’ll be time for that later,” Kenna said, coming to stand
next to them, “Talia says that my wonderful Jacob has an announcement to make.”
Derek bared his teeth at Kenna when she came over though not in a menacing or
dangerous way but more just because he was irritated that she was interrupting
this. He was comfortable where he was and it felt so damned good to have
Stiles' hands carding through his fur. Kenna just bent to flick his ear and
made a shooing motion. Derek grumbled and he turned to lick a hot stripe from
the base of Stiles' neck up behind his ear before getting up, shaking out his
fur.
"Put your clothes on, Derek, and get your ass inside. You have three minutes
and then we're starting without you," Kenna said and tossed her hair before
heading back into the house.
Derek rolled his eyes hard and then trotted over to the table, sitting back on
his hind legs and slowly shifting back to human so he ended up on his feet. He
rolled his head on his shoulders and then did the same thing with his
shoulders, rolling them up and down to loosen the joints before reaching for
his boxers, pulling them on before he turned to Stiles just so he wouldn't make
him uncomfortable.
"Did you have a good time with Kenna?" he asked with a small smile as he put on
his shirt, doing up the buttons methodically.
If Derek had been human, that lick would have been unnaturally hot, but as a
wolf it just felt weird, no different from a pet dog. Once Derek was gone from
on top of him, Stiles picked himself up and started to try and wipe off some of
the dirt from his clothes and hair. He had no doubt that he looked sufficiently
messed up and he felt bad for most likely getting grass stains on his nice
clothes, but they would just need the right kind of color safe bleach and it
would be good as new.
Stiles had actually forgotten that Derek was naked until he shifted back. A
bright red blush crept over his face as he averted his gaze, focusing much
harder than he had to on wiping the dirt from his pants.
“Uhh, yeah, we had fun,” Stiles said in response to Derek’s question, giving
him a quick glance before looking away again, “I told her what happened. She
seemed relatively unsurprised. It kinda seemed like she knew before we knew. Or
at least before I knew.” He was trying to make sure that there wasn’t any grass
or leaves or dirt in his hair when Derek finally had enough clothes on for
Stiles to look at him properly. “How was the run?” he asked. Everyone seemed to
be much more relaxed after it happened.
The smiles seemed to come easier to Derek around Stiles especially after he'd
gone running with his family. Some of those good feelings he'd had while
running transferred over with him and it was good. He almost didn't feel
crushed underneath the weight of the guilt he carried around with him. "It
was...really good. I enjoy running," he answered, pulling on his trousers and
buckling the belt after he tucked in his shirttails. He finished dressing,
putting on his tie and then his vest before grabbing his jacket.
Derek moved closer to Stiles and glanced around to make sure there was no one
looking, no windows for anyone to see them through, before he leaned in and
pressed a hesitant kiss to Stiles' mouth. He gave a shy smile and put his hand
on the small of Stiles' back. "C'mon, I know what about to happen and we don't
want to miss it," he said softly, leading him towards the door.
They took their places inside, joining the others with Stiles a steady weight
beside him that kept him grounded. Everyone's attention turned to Jacob who was
holding a wine glass and tapping a knife against it. Jacob was sweet and good
for Kenna and he was relatively attractive too with pale green eyes and caramel
colored skin and short cropped dark brown hair, probably as tall as Derek but
definitely taller than Kenna who was tiny anyways.
"If I could have everyone's attention," Jacob called with a wide smile, running
a hand through his short hair and then spotting Kenna. "Kenna, honey, come
here," he coaxed and Kenna blushed but moved to Jacob's side, blushing lightly
and unsure what was going on. "As you all know, Kenna and I have been dating
for five years since she was fourteen years old and I was fifteen. I once told
Talia, I said 'you know, one day I think I'll marry that girl' and she just
smiled and patted my shoulder and said 'of course you will, sweetheart'. Well,
I plan to do exactly that." Kenna gasped softly and covered her mouth when
Jacob turned to her and fell onto one knee, offering up a small red satin box
and popping it open. "Kenna Marie Adamson, will you marry me?"
Stiles still felt that pulse of energy between them when Derek kissed him
softly and he found himself wondering if that was going to happen every time
they kissed. If it did, he would be surprisingly okay with that. This was the
third time that Derek had kissed him compared to the one time that Stiles had
kissed Derek. Stiles was glad that Derek evidently felt comfortable enough to
go ahead and kiss him when the urge struck, but Stiles had some catching up to
do. Not to mention that they still had to figure out this whole ‘soul bonds’
thing, but he supposed that could wait.
Scott gave Stiles a pointed look after glancing at Derek’s hand on his back and
Stiles just gave him a shrug in return, not really ready to say anything about
it until he and Derek could define it themselves. Everyone was gathered around
Jacob, who Stiles had met briefly at the beginning of the night. He was very
friendly and seemed like a good match for Kenna.
Stiles felt a wide smile stretch across his face when Jacob proposed. He mused
momentarily on whether or not everyone proposed to their significant other in
front of the pack. He wondered if Scott would do it. The entire room was
silent, waiting on Kenna’s response.
“Of course I will,” Kenna exclaimed, her eyes glistening with tears though none
actually fell onto her face. With both of them wearing huge smiles, Jacob
slipped the ring onto her finger and pulled her into a kiss. The entire room
erupted into applause and more than one teasing wolf whistle.
“So I’m guessing you guys were just waiting for it to happen as opposed to
wondering if it would?” Stiles asked Derek quietly, not taking his eyes off the
incredibly happy couple in front of him who had began to accept congratulations
from all angles.
Derek smiled, albeit a little bit sadly, when Kenna said yes; not because he
didn't like Jacob, he did. It's just that it meant Kenna would be moving out of
the house and if Stiles decided to reject the bond and leave? Derek would be
all alone. So it was a bittersweet moment, but he was happy for her, for them.
He was. Part of him thought that was supposed to have happened to him a long
time ago but obviously that hadn't worked out and how could he completely
regret the outcome when he got Stiles out of it? Stiles was incredible and he
was thankful with every part of his being that whoever was out there decided
that Derek deserved someone like him.
He turned when Stiles spoke and shrugged, smiling a bit. "Yea, pretty much.
Though I was the only one who knew he was going to propose tonight," he
admitted, forgetting that his hand was still resting on Stiles' back. He liked
the point of steady contact though, the warmth even though Stiles' coat and the
rhythmic sound of his heartbeat which was becoming more and more familiar to
Derek's ears.
"Derek, Derek, look!" Kenna gushed as she came bounding up with Jacob's hand
still clutched in her own as she shoved her free hand into Derek's face to show
off the frankly huge engagement ring on her finger. "Stiles look, isn't it
gorgeous? Oh my gosh, I'm gonna get married. We have to start planning. This is
so great."
Jacob chuckled beside Kenna but he didn't look overwhelmed at all, just happy
and tolerant. Derek grinned at them both and kissed Kenna's forehead. "I'm
really happy for you, kid," he told her honestly and then extended his hand to
Jacob who grinned as well. "Take care of her, alright? I won't hesitate to
break a few bones if you hurt her, understand?"
"Understood," Jacob agreed and Derek could tell that Jacob would be perfect for
Kenna. He'd always treated Kenna well and knew how to take care of her like
only Kenna needed to be looked after.
Stiles didn’t get a chance to say anything before Kenna was rushing over,
flaunting her engagement ring. He was smiling until he caught sight of it, then
his jaw dropped. He grabbed Kenna’s hand, dragging it out of Derek’s face and
into his own. Now, Stiles didn’t know much about engagement rings or diamonds
or any of that, but he knew an above average piece of jewelry when he saw one.
This diamond in this ring was gigantic.
“That is one hell of a rock!” he exclaimed, turning Kenna’s hand so that it
shone in the light, “I mean goddamn. You could kill someone with this. Nice
going, man.” He gave Jacob a smile, which the man returned.
“Stop it,” Kenna said with a playful shove, “The size doesn’t matter.”
“Oh really?” Stiles said with a wiggle of his eyebrows that did little but make
Kenna shove him again.
“No one asked for your crass commentary,” she said primly, the effect ruined by
the giant grin on her face.
“Well then, I am definitely the wrong person to come to for wedding advice,”
Stiles said jokingly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh please, you wouldn’t know a thing about weddings if one bit you in the
ass,” Kenna snorted.
“Now who’s being crass?” Stiles laughed. Kenna just brushed it off with a wave
of her hand.
“Despite your lack of knowledge, I will still want your opinion,” Kenna said
seriously.
“Of course, whatever you need me for,” Stiles said without even hesitating. It
wasn’t until Kenna and Jacob were pulled away for champagne that Stiles really
realized what he said. He didn’t know much, but he knew that planning weddings
took months. He had more or less just promised Kenna he would stay for months.
Of course, with this newly discovered thing with Derek, it would have been hard
to leave anyway. Stiles was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t even
notice that his body was finally starting to catch up with how late it was, a
huge yawn forcing its way out of his mouth, his eyes drooping ever so slightly.
Derek just listened to Stiles and Kenna bickering back and forth, smiling
softly the whole time as something warm and comfortable settled in his chest
like a purring cat. He kissed Kenna's cheek again when she hugged him and waved
a bit before she disappeared. He glanced over when Stiles started yawning again
and tightened his arm around Stiles.
"Why don't we go? Kenna's probably going to stay the night with Jacob here so
we don't have to wait for her," Derek suggested, rubbing Stiles' back gently
and then pulling away slightly to maintain their platonic image for Derek's
family. At least until they figured out what exactly they were doing. If they
decided to be together in the end then Derek would have no trouble at all
telling his entire family if not just to warn anyone off but to brag a little
too because the universe seemed to decide he deserved someone so great.
“Sounds good to me,” Stiles said with another small yawn, leaning into Derek’s
touch until it wasn’t really there for him to lean on. He supposed it was
better to try and keep things a bit more on the down low until they figured
them out for themselves. Stiles wanted to get closer to Derek, but he
refrained. He had no idea how he was going to control himself at home in
Derek’s room with him when they were supposed to be sleeping. A young teenage
boy could only do so much in the department of control. Still, he could barely
believe that someone as godlike and gorgeous as Derek wanted to get with a
gangly teenager. There was just under a decade between them and Stiles had no
doubt that Derek could get anyone he wanted, but he wanted Stiles. It was
surreal.
“Are you leaving?” Scott asked, popping out of nowhere. Damn werewolf hearing.
“Yeah, I’m pretty beat,” Stiles said with a shrug.
“Hey everyone, Derek and Stiles are going!” he announced to the rest of the
room. Immediately, all the children under the age of five jumped on Derek and
everyone came over to hug them and say goodbye. Stiles didn’t know how many
different people he hugged or how long it actually took him and Derek to get
out of the house.
Derek chuckled and let himself be overrun with toddlers while he tried to hug
and kiss everyone goodbye and finally, by some miracle, he and Stiles made
their way out of the house.
The drive home was long and Stiles slept most of the way but Derek didn't mind.
It had been a long day and he didn't blame Stiles in the least. When he finally
parked the car in the garage he shut off the engine and got out, moving to
Stiles' side and opening the door carefully.
"Stiles," he said gently, shaking Stiles and running fingers through his soft
hair. "Stiles, we're home. C'mon. Let's go inside and get you changed and then
we can sleep alright? We'll do research tomorrow. We'll have all day."
Stiles groaned when he felt Derek trying to wake him up and blearily batted his
hands away, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed, even as he pushed into Derek's
hand in his hair. After a moment, Stiles stuck his arms straight up into the
air towards Derek.
"Carry me," he murmured, eyes still closed. It seemed that after their
admissions, his sense of shame was more or less nonexistent. That also could
have been the sleepiness. It registered somewhere that Stiles should probably
shower before going to bed since he no doubt had dirt on him somewhere from
wrestling with Scott, but maybe he could do it in the morning instead. Maybe he
would go for a little human run in the morning and then shower. Yeah, that
sounded good. Morning shower. Stiles didn't realize that he was actually saying
all of this out loud, just letting his stream of consciousness flow.
Derek chuckled softly and he leaned into the car to pull Stiles into his arms
obediently, not thinking twice about following the younger man's orders. He
listened to Stiles' rambling and nudged the door of the Camaro closed with his
hip, heading into the dark house. He didn't bother turning on any lights, just
letting his wolf vision take over to avoid any obstacles.
"Just tell me before you leave in the morning and I'll go running with you,
alright?" he bargained gently as he climbed the stairs and then crossed his
room to his own bed. He didn't hesitate laying Stiles there but did take a deep
steadying breath before slowly starting to undress him bit by bit. He started
with Stiles' shoes and socks and then his jacket, moving on to his vest and tie
and shirt. Seeing Stiles' chest completely bare made him lick his lips but he
kept in control until he'd stripped Stiles to his boxers.
"I'll be right back okay?" Derek whispered as he moved Stiles further up the
bed so his head was on pillows and Derek could pull the blankets over him. "I'm
gonna get changed and go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."
Stiles vaguely registered that Derek was undressing him, but he was too tired
to even think sexy thoughts, let alone do sexy things. He wasn’t even sure
where all this exhaustion was coming from. It’s not like he had done anything
overly strenuous today. Maybe emotional exhaustion? But even still, he hadn’t
been all that emotionally taxed either. Stiles decided that he wasn’t going to
dwell on it and that he could just blame his weird changing teenage hormones.
He curled into the covers, shoving his face into one of the pillows, giving
Derek a hum of acknowledgment when he spoke. Stiles wasn’t entirely positive on
what he said, but he was sure if it was important, his brain would remember for
him.
It was weird that he was already so comfortable in his new environment and
basically had been from day one. Falling asleep in the presence of a werewolf
had been almost unthinkable before but he didn’t even have to think about it
now. It was almost like he had just slid right into place here, like the
missing piece of a puzzle. He wondered if Derek felt the same way. In the end,
Stiles decided that there was too much thinking going on. Moments later, he was
asleep again.
Derek went through the motions of undressing and putting his suit up and going
to brush his teeth. He even let his fangs out for a play so that he could brush
them too. They got pretty gross if he didn't every once in awhile at least. He
changed into a clean pair of boxers and then went back into his room, smiling a
tiny private smile at the sight of Stiles crashed in his bed.
Derek turned out all the lights and made sure to draw the thick blackout
curtains so the sun wouldn't wake them and then could rouse whenever they felt
like it. Derek was all for hard work but some days he liked to stay in bed all
day. Maybe Stiles would like that too. Derek could make them pancakes to eat in
bed and they could look through his family book together, figure out what was
between them.
He sighed happily and slipped between the sheets, reaching out for Stiles
gently and pulling him close. It felt so good to be able to feel Stiles' heart
against his own ribs, brushing fingers through his hair. "Sleep well, Stiles,"
Derek murmured softly and then settled in too, falling asleep within minutes
For once in Stiles’ life, he didn’t have nightmares at all that night. Usually
he had at least one and woke himself up before going to sleep again. It was
strange when he woke up to realize that he had slept through the night. It
almost never happened. There was no light filtering into the room, but a glance
at the clock told Stiles that it was only about seven. He figured that his body
had finished sleeping and decided to wake him up. It registered second that he
was in Derek’s arms. Stiles smiled a bit before he gently worked on untangling
himself. He still wanted to go for that run, but he didn’t want to disturb
Derek, who looked so peaceful as he slept. Miraculously, he made it out of the
werewolf’s hold and out of the room as well without waking him. All his
athletic-like stuff was in his unfinished room. Stiles went to the bathroom and
then got dressed before exiting through the back door and taking off. He would
probably be back before Derek woke up anyway.
Stiles loved running. It really took his mind off things when all he could
focus on was the pounding of his feet and the rabbit-fast beating of his heart
and the rush of air through his lungs. With every step, he felt a larger sense
of accomplishment even though he wasn’t working towards a specific goal. He
remembered that Derek had said something way back in the beginning about the
property being warded, but he couldn’t see any fences out here. Maybe only the
main property was fenced and the rest was just an invisible barrier. If Stiles
stayed on the path, he would probably ensure that he would be fine, but what
could happen to him out here? Besides, he liked the challenge of uncontrolled
terrain. After thinking for a moment, Stiles veered off the path and into the
trees.
This was what he was talking about. Stiles loved the feeling of the roots under
his feet and how he had to dodge branches and jump over rocks. He could feel
his muscles working, sweat pouring. He was breathing hard now, getting exactly
the kind of workout he was looking for, something to completely exhaust him and
make him unable to even move. That was the last thing he thought when something
rammed into him from the side. They went careening through the trees, hitting
rocks and all sorts of natural debris. Stiles could feel his arms getting
scratched up and his body getting bruised.
“What the hell?” Stiles exclaimed when they finally stopped only to find
himself pinned to the ground underneath a man he had never seen before. Glowing
eyes and sharp fangs confirmed Stiles fear that he was a werewolf. He struggled
hard against the hold on his wrists, but it was no use. He heard twigs
crunching and turned his head to see a set of feet and a white cane.
“And here I was wondering how to get you alone,” a man said. Stiles froze. He
recognized that voice even though he had only heard it once. Deucalion.
“What the fuck do you want?” Stiles spat, resuming his struggling.
“Derek took you from me,” Deucalion said simply, “I’m taking you back.”
“Like hell you are!” Stiles exclaimed, trying to buck the man off of him.
“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Deucalion said, slipping off his glasses and
crouch down next to Stiles, “I’m going to let you scream for help. Just once.
Then I’m going to drug you and make your scent untraceable. We’ll see how far
our pretty little Derek is willing to go.”
“He’s going to tear you apart,” Stiles hissed, his glare venomous.
“And you’re screaming in three, two, one,” Deucalion said wearily. Stiles
considered not doing it, but the sooner Derek knew what had happened, the
faster he would be able to save him.
“Derek!” Stiles screamed as loudly as he could, praying to god that Derek would
hear him. Deucalion smiled seconds before shoving a rag in Stiles’ face.
Chloroform. His face was the last thing Stiles saw before he was out cold.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Derek didn't rouse when Stiles got up, not until he heard the door from Stiles'
bathroom downstairs. He figured that Stiles just wanted a bit of time to
himself which was perfectly acceptable and he got up, watching out the window
as Stiles headed for the trees. Derek went to the bathroom and then was just
warming up a cup of coffee when something pained him sharply and every one of
his instincts screamed Stiles! He snarled and ran out the back door at full
speed, jumping off the deck and transforming full speed. His clothes lay in
tatters behind him but he didn't stop, was almost there when he heard Stiles'
cry.
He broke through the last trees in time to see a strange werewolf - a half
shifted beta - drugging Stiles. Derek didn't hesitate a beat as he lunged on
instinct and his jaws closed around the man's throat until his neck snapped and
Derek let his body fall lifeless to the floor. He stood between Stiles and
Deucalion in a dangerous stance, snarling low in his throat, eyes crimson red
and his teeth and muzzle dripping with the other wolf's blood.
"Derek, Derek, Derek, never going to give up on your little pet humans are you?
When are you going to realize that the only thing they're good for is fucking
and turning? Or killing if you don't want to add anyone to your pack,"
Deucalion taunted and Derek snapped his jaws at Deucalion's hand hard enough to
draw blood which made the man snarl.
Derek wished he could speak but he couldn't in wolf form and decided not to
give Deucalion the chance to run. Using the man's blindness to his advantage,
Derek reached his hind leg out to snap a branch to his right. Knowing the
Deucalion would be expecting the diversion and for Derek to go left, Derek went
right and slammed the man hard in the stomach with his head. Deucalion flew a
few feet back and landed on a rock, loud snaps that weren't breaking branches
echoing as the man lay lifeless but not dead. Derek snarled in satisfaction and
looked around after making sure Stiles was alright. There wasn't much he could
do as a werewolf so he shifted back human and knelt beside Stiles, absorbing
his pain and more than that, taking the grogginess from the drug away too so
that Stiles would regain consciousness. They needed to trap Deucalion before he
woke up so that Derek could hand him over to the officials.
Stiles didn’t react well to waking up after being knocked out. Derek slowly
leeched the drug out of his body and as soon as Stiles was awake, he didn’t
bother waiting to take in the situation, choosing instead to just lash out
violently, becoming a flailing mass of limbs. It wasn’t until his fist collided
with something hard and a very Derek-sounding ‘oomph’ followed it that Stiles
opened his eyes to take in the scene. The werewolf that had tackled him was
laying not even a foot away from Stiles, his neck bleeding sluggishly, his eyes
lifeless. He turned his head a bit to the side to see Deucalion’s body,
completely unmoving, but he couldn’t tell if the werewolf was dead or not. Then
his eyes fell on Derek. The bottom half of his face was stained with blood, but
he otherwise seemed unharmed. And naked. Very naked.
“Okay, no more off road-ing for me,” Stiles groaned as he sat up slowly, “I’m
clearly not an all-terrain vehicle.” He wondered just how far he had bypassed
the safety of the warding. He would be really angry if it was only a few feet
away. They had to have been watching Stiles from some kind of vantage point and
the fact that he hadn’t seen them was irritating the hell out of Stiles.
“Are you alright?” Stiles said, turning to Derek, “What happened? God, I’m
sorry. This is why I should listen to people. I mean, you definitely said ‘Hey
Stiles, I’ll come with you’ but I was just like ‘Haha, nah’ and I obviously
should not have done that. Is he dead by the way? Because he’s not moving. Like
at all. I mean not even a twitch.” Stiles knew he was talking too much, but it
was only because he was nervous and frazzled. He hadn’t had a negative
experience with werewolves since he came to live with Derek and he honestly
hadn’t had any until he had been captured either. His father kept him well
protected. This was a new experience, one he was not eager to repeat.
"I'm fine, Stiles. I'm okay, I'm more worried about you," Derek insisted,
smoothing his hands down Stiles' face and neck and not even really registering
the blood on his teeth or face or even the fact that he was plainly naked. He
was too focused on Stiles, checking his vitals quickly and then pressing his
forehead against the younger man's. "I'm so glad you're okay. That one-" Derek
pointed to the random beta he didn't know "is dead. Deucalion is just knocked
out and I hate to ask you but I need you to help me secure him until I can get
someone out here to collect him. I- I should kill him. I should but he should
pay for what he did. Closure or something like that. Can you help me and then
I'll take you back home and another day we'll go over the property lines
alright?"
“No, yeah, that’s fine,” Stiles said, nodding quickly, pretending that his
hands were shaking minutely, “Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll get her
done. I’ll be the best do-er you’ve ever seen. Just watch me man.” He was
rambling again, but he didn’t care. He would worry about that after he calmed
himself down. Derek was here and they were both alright. That didn’t change the
fact that Deucalion scared the shit out of him, even when he wasn’t moving and
that Stiles had just been gruesomely reminded how pathetically defenseless he
really was. He had screamed for help without a second thought. Maybe he should
become an emissary and learn how to keep himself safe so that he wouldn’t have
to depend so heavily on others, so he wouldn’t be a burden. Stiles shook these
thoughts from his head for now and waited for instructions from Derek.
Derek was worried but Stiles was the only one who could do this so he helped
him up gingerly and showed him where there was some mistletoe growing on the
low hanging branch of a nearby tree. He guided Stiles in burying it in a ring
around Deucalion and then took a deep breath. "This is the important part,
Stiles. Dig your fingers into the dirt and repeat after me okay?" he said
gently, keeping close but not wanting to distract him. "Quis me liberabit ex
luna et stellis, nunc invocantem nocere non currat aut lupus ululate manere
intra circulum occultes," he said, taking pauses for Stiles to repeat the
words. He said the words over and over against Stiles' ear until Stiles was
reciting it on his own and Derek felt the change in the atmosphere and the
sharp, potent smell of ozone. "You did it," he whispered in relief, breathing
out heavily.
Stiles didn’t even care to ask what the hell it was that he did. All he knew
was that his fingers felt like they were on fire and the hairs on the back of
his neck were standing up. Maybe it was that spark thing that Deaton had
mentioned? Stiles didn’t know, but he just wanted to get back to the house and
take a nice long shower. And maybe never come out. He could just turn into a
bloated prune and live on the bottom of the tub, feeding off the mushrooms he
would eventually grow. He was mumbling all this under his breath, forgetting
for a moment that Derek could hear him considering there wasn’t even a foot of
space between the two of them. And Derek was still naked. Stiles remembered
this with a jolt and his face went red. “Can we head back?” Stiles asked after
a moment or two of silence.
Derek nodded slowly and he wanted to kiss Stiles but his face was still covered
in blood. "Yea, yes of course, Stiles," he nodded and stood back, hesitating
and then shifting back into his wolf form. He could tell that Stiles was a bit
uncomfortable with him when he was naked and it was going to be a long walk
back to the house. Stiles had come a long way. He nudged his massive shoulder
against Stiles' hip before dipping down, offering Stiles to climb on. It would
be probably one of the only exceptions he made for anyone to ride him like a
horse but he could get them home faster if Stiles let Derek carry him.
Stiles stared, dumbfounded when Derek more or less offered him a piggy back
ride. He had never, ever heard of werewolves doing that. He thought about
refusing the offer, but his legs felt a little like jelly and he wasn’t sure if
he’d be able to make it the whole way back. Slowly, Stiles climbed onto Derek’s
back, trying to figure out how to get comfortable, holding on tightly to the
fur on his scruff where it wouldn’t hurt Derek. “Alright,” he said after a
moment, “Ready to go.” He wasn’t really sure if that was true, but they had to
get back to the house sooner or later. This really put a damper on Stiles’ day.
He didn’t see what was so great about him anyway, to be trying to take him back
or whatever it was Deucalion wanted.
Derek nodded and he took off at a slow run, making sure Stiles was okay where
he was before speeding up. He ran as fast as he was capable, wanting to get
Stiles home and showered and take a shower himself and then call his mother to
see what he should do. He knew he couldn't kill Deucalion because it would only
bring him more problems but he needed the man out of his life and away from
Stiles. So, so far away from Stiles.
They arrived back at the house in mere minutes and he stopped on the patio,
laying back on his belly so that Stiles could climb off before he shifted back
to human. He didn't want to make Stiles uncomfortable but he couldn't help it
when he stepped in close, cupping Stiles' jaw and pressing their foreheads
together.
"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, needing to be certain. It terrified
him that he'd almost lost Stiles.
Stiles was still a bit shaken by the time they got back, but he did feel a
little better. When Derek pressed their foreheads together, Stiles pressed back
against him, closing his eyes as he swallowed. Was he alright? Physically, yeah
he was fine. However, he had still just been reminded how weak he was. Stiles
pulled away a bit and gave Derek a small smile.
"I'm fine," he said, "Just a few bumps and bruises from being tackled but I'm
fine. A shower and breakfast would be nice though." Stiles could feel some sort
of break down or tantrum building inside him and he didn't want to be in front
of Derek when he finally blew. He was just so angry at himself. He couldn't do
anything on his own. He was completely useless and he just wanted to punch
something.
Derek studied Stiles' face and his brows furrowed. He could tell that Stiles
wasn't okay but he didn't want to point it out. Stiles was old enough to know
how to handle himself and maybe he just needed some room to breathe. "Okay,
I'll make you something to eat while you shower alright? Come on," he said
gently, leading Stiles into the house and up the stairs. He didn't stop at
Stiles' room but continued up to his own and hesitated before turning to
Stiles.
"Can I ask you a favor?" he requested softly and paused before just asking. "Do
you mind- I mean it would make me feel better if- I don't-" he huffed in
frustration and shook his head. "Never mind. You can shower here. I'll get
breakfast done and shower later."
Stiles allowed himself to be led, even though he could have gotten there easily
himself. Derek was still extremely naked and Stiles was trying very hard to
keep his eyes up. He stared straight up at the ceiling when they went up the
stairs. Stiles was ready to just jump in the shower and maybe scream into a
pillow but Derek seemed to want to ask him something. He stammered through the
question and in the end, he didn't ask. Stiles debated for about half a second
before grabbing onto Derek's wrist before he could get too far away.
"Shower with me?" Stiles blurted out. Fuck. He had meant to ask Derek to tell
him what he wanted. Well, sure that was what he had been thinking, but it
definitely hadn't been at the forefront. Clearly he had priorities.
Derek's eyes widened slightly because he'd definitely thought about that but he
didn't want to push. He was just going to ask if Stiles wouldn't mind wearing
one of his t-shirts because it would make Stiles smell like him and Derek just
really needed that. But showering with Stiles? Fuck yes. One hundred percent.
Derek was so very, very okay with that.
"Yea, okay. Definitely," Derek answered with a nod and a small smile, shuffling
in close to Stiles again. He didn't hesitate this time when he moved close,
pulling Stiles into a tight hug as he buried his face in Stiles' neck. "I'm
just so glad you're okay. Mostly okay. In one piece. God, Stiles. I was so
terrified I'd lost you."
"It's alright," Stiles murmured softly, "I'm alright, Deucalion is trapped or
whatever, and everything's alright." That would have been the moment to kiss
Derek, but his mouth was still stained with blood and though there were a lot
of things that Stiles was okay with, but this was not one of them. Stiles
hugged Derek tightly before pulling away. "Come on," he said quietly, taking
Derek's hand and leading him towards the bathroom. This wasn't really about
sex. Stiles wasn't looking for that. For him, it was more about being close and
he hoped Derek would be okay with that.
Stiles turned on the water to allow it to warm up a bit after he and Derek went
into the bathroom and shut the door. His face went a bit pink and he turned
away from Derek a bit before he stripped off his clothes. He caught sight of
himself in the mirror and noticed the jagged line of dark bruises on his
collarbone, almost like the world's weirdest necklace.
Derek allowed Stiles his privacy, or at least what he could give, while Stiles
undressed by turning to fiddle with the shower. He messed with it until it was
the perfect temperature and then messed with the shower heads until the water
streamed out of all of them - the ones on the sides taller than their heads and
then level with their chests and the one on the ceiling that fell like rain.
Derek loved his shower.
He turned back to see Stiles eyeing the dark hickeys Derek had left there and
Derek hesitated for a moment. "Is it bad that I like the way those look on
you?" he asked quietly. And then even quieter the question that was plaguing
him the most. "Do you regret it? Letting me?"
Stiles stopped where he had been idly brushing his fingers over a hickey on the
outside to look backwards towards Derek. He could see the vulnerability on the
man’s face and he wanted to wipe it clean.
“Regret is pointless,” Stiles said, his face serious for all of five seconds
before a large smile broke out over his face, “I don’t regret it. It was
probably one of the most titillating experiences of my life. Honestly… I umm… I
liked the idea of you marking me.” His voice had gotten progressively quieter
the more he spoke and his face had gotten redder. He stared straight down at
his feet, feeling extremely awkward. It suddenly occurred to him that they were
both naked and that just made things worse. “So shower?” Stiles said loudly
before Derek could respond to what he said, “Yes, shower. Stop! Shower time.
Time for cleanliness by raining water.” He scurried past Derek and jumped into
the shower, hiding behind the fogged up glass.
Derek hesitated because Stiles had asked him to shower together but now Stiles
seemed so uncertain and shy. Maybe he had changed his mind and didn't know how
to tell Derek. But he stepped into the shower, careful not to touch Stiles in
case it spooked him even more.
"Stiles?" he said gently, studying Stiles' face. "Are you sure you want me
here? It's okay if you changed your mind. You can tell me and I'll go." The
last thing he wanted to do was make Stiles uncomfortable with him.
“I do,” Stiles answered quickly, face flushed from the warmth of the water,
“Want you here. It’s just… well it’s a lot of things. Part of me is thinking
sexual things because hell why wouldn’t I be? But another part of me is just
thinking like closeness and intimate things, which is kind of what I prefer.
And then there’s another part that’s thinking extremely insecure things because
you’re over there with your godlike body and your face carved by angels and
your fully developed everything and I’m over here with my gangly teenage-ness,
which can in no way measure up to all that. I mean you’re in your twenties and
I haven’t even hit eighteen yet. And then of course there’s the part that wants
to run away and hide because I said something as embarrassing as what I said on
the other side of the glass with the marking. Not to mention the fact that I
was just attacked by a psycho in the forest and I couldn’t do anything to save
myself except scream for help because I am weak and pathetic and useless and
and—“ Stiles didn’t realize he had started crying until it became harder to
breathe properly. He hadn’t wanted Derek to see this, his whole self-worth
crisis.
Derek's eyes widened more as Stiles' rant went on and then Stiles was crying
from frustration and that was what Derek had been waiting for. He knew Stiles
wasn't alright but he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Standing under the water had mostly washed the blood from his face and he
scrubbed at his jaw a bit under the water to be sure before he stepped forward.
"Stiles, Stiles, shh it's okay. You're alright," he promised as he dragged
Stiles forward into a tight embrace. He rubbed his hands over Stiles' back
soothingly and just hung onto him, trying to comfort him. "There are so many
things I want to address right now. But for right now I just need you to
breathe for me, okay? You're alright. Everything is okay. I can teach you how
to defend yourself."
“What good is that going to do?” Stiles hiccupped, burying his face in Derek’s
chest, “I’m still physically weaker than virtually anyone I would have to use
those skills to fight off. I just… I know I’m human, and I’m okay with that.
I’m not okay with being a burden on others just because I can’t take care of
myself. Back in the encampment, it had been every man for himself unless there
was an emergency, and in a group full of humans, hell I could take care of
myself easily. I was independent and I even fought off an asshole once or
twice. But here? Here I can’t even fucking go for a run without yelling for
help.” Stiles breathing had evened out for the most part, though he couldn’t
tell if he was still crying because of the shower water.
"You're not a burden, Stiles," Derek promised him gently, cupping the back of
his head and feeling so damn helpless. He didn't know what to say or do to make
Stiles feel better. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry this happened to you." He held
Stiles for an immeasurable amount of time, the water falling over them warmly
to keep them from getting cold. "Hey, listen to me," he said quietly after a
moment. "You're not helpless. I'll make sure you're not. Whatever I have to do.
I'll do it. And as for all that other stuff? You're not unattractive. Quite the
opposite actually, you have no idea. You're not the only one who thinks about
sex but I don't just want that. I want you and everything that comes with it;
the intimacy, the closeness. I want that too. You're not alone in this okay? I
promise."
Stiles knew that this was the time for talking and that he should stand here
and discuss these things with Derek, but he had decided that he was effectively
done with dealing with things for the day. So instead of acting like the adult
he technically wasn’t and working through all this with Derek, Stiles pulled
away just enough so that he could wrap his arms around Derek’s neck, lean up,
and kiss him. It was a distraction technique, and he knew that Derek probably
knew it too, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss Derek,
because he totally did, it was just that he knew there were more important
things to be worrying about. Still, Stiles leaned into Derek as this kissed,
savoring that pulse of electricity that still ran through his body. They could
talk later.
Derek was only slightly surprised when Stiles stole forward to kiss him instead
of talk. Deflection was something that he was very familiar with as was
distraction and he didn't blame Stiles at all for employing it himself. He
wrapped his arms back around Stiles' waist and dragged him in tight so that
their bodies were pressed together chests to stomachs to hips to knees. Stiles
felt incredible in his arms and electricity was searing through his veins with
the most delicious heat. Derek could kiss Stiles forever, everyday for the rest
of his life if he was allowed. He wanted nothing more than to be able to keep
Stiles. Maybe...maybe if they just left Deucalion there he'd just...starve to
death. Accidentally. And Stiles and Derek could live their lives completely
freed of him once and for all. Derek didn't want to think about that now
though. Not when he had his arms full of Stiles and Stiles' tongue pressing
into his mouth. That was the only thing he wanted to focus on for a long, long
time.
Stiles kissed Derek back with fervor, gripping hard enough at his back to leave
marks if he wasn’t a werewolf. He could feel himself getting worked up, and as
amazing as that would be, Stiles wasn’t all that into sex after a traumatic
incident. Plus, they’d agreed to figure out the whole ‘soul bonds’ thing before
they actually did anything. At least, that’s what Stiles had taken from it. He
pulled away, breaking the kiss as he rested his head against Derek’s shoulder.
He waited a minute to catch his breath before pulling away completely and
turning around to pick up the shampoo. He squirted some into his hand and went
behind Derek, reaching up to lather his hair. Stiles remembered how he had
threaded his fingers through Derek’s hair last night and he quickly tried to
shake those thoughts from his head before it became a problem. This wasn’t
about sex. Stiles needed it to not be about sex. He immersed himself in
massaging Derek’s scalp, working the shampoo through completely.
Derek was happy to hold onto Stiles when Stiles finally broke away, feeling
like they were moving a bit quickly and Derek was getting a bit too excited.
But then Stiles was pulling away and not really talking to Derek or looking at
him and it had him worried again. He tilted his head back into Stiles' hands
though, unable to hold back the soft happy rumble deep in his chest. He only
wished that Stiles had stayed in front of him so that he could look and touch;
nothing sexual but just to feel, to be close. When Derek rinsed his hair out,
he turned around to face Stiles, giving a small smile and brushing a hand
through his hair. "My turn," he murmured quietly, reaching to get the bottle of
shampoo and squeezing some into his palm. He kept Stiles from turning around,
not wanting his back but his face, and worked his fingers into Stiles' hair.
Stiles flushed when Derek kept him from turning around, not used to someone
wanting to look at him or feel him or any of that. He leaned into Derek’s
touch, being careful not to get any soap in his eyes. Derek’s hands felt like
heaven massaging his head and he closed his eyes and leaned forward into Derek.
He really started to think about what the two of them could do. If Deucalion
was going to make a pest of himself, then Stiles really did have to learn
something protective. If he began training as an emissary, that probably
wouldn’t happen for a while and he needed something now. Maybe Deaton would
make an exception based on their situation? Stiles didn’t know, but no matter
what Derek said, he was not going to depend solely on the werewolf for safety
and protection. Not without feeling guilty. Stiles stepped away after a few
minutes to rinse the suds out of his hair, the water cascading down. When he
opened his eyes again, he shook his hair out a bit. “Where’s your body wash?”
Stiles asked after a moment of looking around, the first words he had said
after his little rant.
Derek reached behind Stiles for a clear bottle of body wash boasting about how
it was scented with real roses and other herbals and made organically and Derek
blushed. "My sisters always make fun of me for buying this stuff but it's the
only one that doesn't use sodium lauryl sulfates or propylene glycol which I'm
allergic to both of," he explained, ears a bit pink because his body wash was
very much a feminine scented wash. It didn't irritate his olfactory senses
either which was a plus. He grabbed a sponge and squeezed a bit on, lathering
it up and then looking to Stiles for permission. "May I?" he requested gently,
indicating that he wanted to be allowed to wash Stiles' body. Derek was aware
that it was a much different situation than hair though and he wouldn't be
offended if Stiles decided he'd rather wash himself.
“I-I-I,” Stiles stammered for a moment, his face going bright red and it had
nothing to do with the temperature of the water, “I-If you’d like I guess, yeah
that’s fine.” He never had anyone wash him before, not since he was like five
and didn’t have the ability to clean himself. He wasn’t sure how to stand or if
he should move or where his arms should go or any of that. So, he just took a
step closer to where Derek was standing with the body wash and just kind of
waited for him to start so he could take his cues from Derek. The body wash
smelled nice from where he was standing, but it was kind of cute that Derek was
embarrassed by it. As far as Stiles was concerned, soap was soap and it didn’t
matter what the bottle looked like.
"Are you sure? You can tell me no, Stiles. Please remember that," Derek asked,
just wanting to make sure. He didn't think Stiles was the kind to say yes just
because he thought that's what Derek wanted to hear but Derek wanted to make
sure that it was what Stiles wanted too. He didn't want to over step his
bounds. But Stiles was stepping closer and looking determined if embarrassed so
Derek went ahead and took the sponge to his chest. He was mesmerized by the
constellations of moles all over his skin and the way the hickeys he'd left
stood out so starkly. It was delectable. "I like these," Derek murmured gently,
playing connect the dots with a smattering of moles on Stiles' ribs. He looked
up at Stiles abruptly with a seriousness to his gaze. "If you could see
yourself through my eyes you would never think that you were unattractive.
You're amazing, Stiles. And I'll spend everyday of my life proving that to you
if you'd let me."
Stiles stared at Derek, eyes wide, mouth agape as his entire body turned red.
“You- You- You,” he sputtered, “You can’t just say things like that, oh my
god!” There was a strange looking smile on his face, his brows drawn together.
It was easy to see that he was having some kind of internal battle between
flattered and confused. “I mean, seriously, are you trying to give a guy a
heart attack? Or maybe just make him explode? Listen to my heart!” Stiles
exclaimed, grabbing Derek’s hand without thinking and pressing it to where his
heart was racing in his chest. “You need to let a guy mentally prepare for that
kind of declaration. Send me a letter, leave a memo, something,” Stiles went
on, a soft smile on his face as he began to calm down a bit. He’d never
experienced this kind of devotion, this kind of serious connection. He had no
idea how to respond and hoped he would get used to it if Derek was going to
make a habit out of saying things like that.
Derek was worried at first that he'd said something wrong, feeling his own
heart speed up in time with Stiles' and ready to backtrack. But Stiles forged
on without letting Derek even try and he was smiling and so Derek started to
calm down with a small smile of his own. "I can warn you next time," he said
with a small teasing tilt of his eyebrows. "What should I say, do you think?
'Hey Stiles, brace yourself because I'm about to tell you how enamored I am
with you.' Will that work?" He brushed his fingers over Stiles' jaw and down
his neck, over his shoulder and his sides to his hip. "I am. In case you were
curious. Should I warn you that I'm about to kiss you too? Or am I allowed to
do that without permission first?"
Stiles sucked in a breath as Derek’s fingers gently trailed over his skin,
trying not to get distracted by it as Derek spoke. “Yes, that will work,” he
responded petulantly, a small pout on his lips but a playful light to his eyes,
“And I said warn me so that I don’t have a heart attack, not transport to the
1950s when you have to ask to hold a girl’s hand. I’m not some fragile, wilting
virgin. Okay well I am. A virgin, I mean. Not fragile and wilting. Definitely
not fragile and wilting. But yeah, pretty virgin. Probably the virginest virgin
to ever virgin. Sorry, I should really stop talking now. So how about that body
wash?” Stiles’ face was on fire as he took the sponge from where Derek had
placed it down and began rubbing it over himself hoping that maybe he could
scrub so hard he would turn invisible.
"Stiles," Derek said with a soft chuckle and brushed his hand over Stiles'
hair, giving him an amused look. "I don't mind you talking and you can calm
down. Just take deep breaths alight?" He leaned in to kiss Stiles' cheek
tenderly and let Stiles finish washing himself so he wouldn't get more
flustered. When Stiles was finished, Derek caught him around the waist and
pulled him in close, sealing their lips because he was allowed. Stiles had said
he was allowed so it worked in Derek's favor.
Stiles was caught off guard by the kiss, a small surprised noise getting cutoff
by Derek's lips, but he melted into it within seconds. He let his arms rest
lazily over Derek's shoulders. Again, that electrifying energy sparked between
them and Stiles wondered if it would ever fade. He kind of hoped not. He hadn't
gotten the chance to rinse off before Derek grabbed him, so the other man was
getting covered in suds. He did still need to wash. Stiles pulled away when he
needed to breathe a little more, a breathless smile on his face.
"Your turn," he said with one last, chaste kiss to Derek's lips. He got the
body wash and squirted a little more onto the sponge. He started with Derek's
torso. "My god, your abs really are just unfair," Stiles sighed as he let the
sponge glide over them.
Derek returned the smile that Stiles gave him. He loved how Stiles' amber eyes
just seemed to light up from within when he smiled. Derek wished he would smile
all the time and vowed to do his best to get Stiles to do it. He leaned into
the gentle kiss Stiles gave him easily and then nodded when Stiles announced
that it was his turn to wash Derek. Derek really wasn't going to complain about
that one bit. He did chuckle when Stiles spoke about his abs though and said
stomach muscles jumped a bit with the action and also Stiles' warm touch.
"Well I could blame it on being a werewolf but it's not entirely accurate. I do
work out," he said with a teasing grin though it was the truth at the same
time. It wasn't just that he was a werewolf. Derek worked out a lot because it
helped with his control and helped to burn off the extra energy he had from
being an alpha.
“All aboard the Inadequacy train to Small Muscles- ville,” Stiles murmured
under his breath, a smile on his face as he did. Derek seriously was impressive
to look at, though just like he had been since the beginning of the shower,
Stiles avoided looking too far down. He knew that if he did, this would all be
over and teenage hormonal-ness would take over in a heartbeat. Stiles really
didn’t want that. Maybe later, but not this second. So, Stiles avoided Derek’s
crotch like the plague, choosing instead to wash his arms and his back and his
shoulders very thoroughly. He even went for under Derek’s arms, always gentle,
his touches fleeting. When there was really nothing else he could do and he was
in front of Derek again, Stiles blushed and handed the sponge back to him.
“You can probably take it from here,” he muttered. He was embarrassed that he
couldn’t man up enough to do it himself, but he chose to ignore that for the
time being and instead turned his back to Derek and stood directly under the
spray of one of the shower heads so that he could rinse his own soap off.
"Stiles," Derek said gently as he took the offered sponge to continue washing
himself. "You're not inadequate. Just because you don't look like me doesn't
mean much. I couldn't care less if you don't look like me. I like that you look
like you because you? You're the most attractive guy I've ever seen. You're
perfect, Stiles. To me. I'll keep reminding me until it gets through that thick
skull that you seem to have." He brushed his fingers over Stiles' jaw and
smiled softly before leaning in to kiss his cheek. He pulled back and finished
up washing himself, getting his legs and crotch and ass. He made quick work of
it and then rinsed himself off, rinsed off the sponge. "Are you ready to get
out now and have some breakfast? I'll call my mother and tell her what happened
while I make you some pancakes alright? She'll decide what to do about
Deucalion this time around. We can't turn him into the authorities without
airtight evidence or he'll get off again."
Stiles was glad that Derek just moved on to keep cleaning himself, because he
was pretty sure that his brain had ceased to function. Apparently, the warnings
weren’t going to be a real thing because that had just come completely out of
nowhere. Stiles was entirely thrown for a loop, having never experienced this
level of compliments or devotion or anything at all. He was never really seen
as the attractive one. People were too busy focusing on his hyperactivity or
his gangly-ness or his habit of getting into things that he didn’t belong in.
He turned around as Derek washed himself, shoving his face under the heated
water so that he would have an excuse for why it was so red.
“I vote yes on getting off, OUT!” Stiles’ face went even redder when he
realized what he said, “I meant out! I mean who doesn’t like getting off,
getting off is great but in this particular instance, I meant out. Okay, yes on
getting out, yes on eating pancakes, though I vote no on thinking about
Deucalion in any sense.”
Derek hung the sponge back up and then pressed the buttons to shut off the
water, turning to look at Stiles with lightly furrowed brows as he studied him.
"Do you- is this too much, Stiles? We can back off if that's what you want, go
slower, work up. It's not that I don't want it, want you because I do, believe
me. But you're just all sorts of flustered and nervous and I don't want to make
you uncomfortable. You don't have to be nervous around me," he said gently,
reaching out of the door to grab two towels and offering one to Stiles. He
thought that the sooner they covered up the sooner Stiles might be able to calm
down but he wasn't sure. "I just..." he looked down to wrap the towel around
his waist and then stared at the tile floor, expression vulnerable. "I don't
want to go too fast if it might scare you off. I don't want to jeopardize
losing you because you're...this is the first good thing that's happened to me
in a very long time and I don't know what would happen to me if I lost it... if
I lost you."
Stiles thought about laughing because that was literally the most ridiculous
notion he had ever heard in his life, but Derek looked completely serious and
so vulnerable, that Stiles knew he had to treat this carefully. He tied his
towel around his waist tightly before walking over to where Derek was standing.
He took Derek’s face in both of his hands and brought him in for kiss. It was
slow, and long, and deep, and Stiles pressed his body against Derek’s.
“Let’s clarify a few things,” Stiles murmured against Derek’s lips, “One, I’m
always going to be a little jittery and nervous. Side effect of ADHD. Two,
being near someone as attractive as you are who says nice things about me is
only going to make that worse. Three, I’m trying to keep this from moving too
fast because we don’t know what this is. Until we figure out the soul bonds, I
just don’t want to do anything that could endanger us or the bond or whatever.
Besides that, I’m completely fine. In fact, I’m more than fine.” Stiles leaned
closer to press a kiss on the corner of Derek’s lips, trailing up his jaw
slowly. “I’m a hormonal teenager,” he muttered against stubble-covered skin,
“I’m extremely okay with anything that involves us doing the hanky panky, when
we know what’s what.”
Derek was slightly surprised when Stiles stepped into his space and forced his
head up into a kiss but he wasn't protesting even the littlest bit because he
always wanted to kiss Stiles. He lingered close when Stiles started talking,
eyes closed so that he could take in every word. It made him feel good but he
was also scared. What if everything they were feeling was just something
supernatural? Or worse, what if only what Stiles was feeling was supernatural?
And they lifted the bond only for Stiles to stop wanting Derek but Derek to
continue feeling the same way? He supposed he would deserve it, though.
He pulled back just enough to rest his head on Stiles' shoulder, turning his
face into Stiles' neck and heaving out a breath. He tightened his arms around
the younger man and just stayed there for a moment. "I'm scared," he admitted
on a whisper, something he'd never told anyone before. "I've been scared
for...years but this... this really scares me. It's like I'm getting a second
chance that I don't even think I really deserve. I don't deserve you, Stiles,
believe me. I'm not a good person, not good enough for you. And what- what
happens if all of this is just...fake? What if it's not real? What if we get
rid of it and- and everything just- I don't-" he tightened his arms some more
and nuzzled in, "I'm just scared." He didn't know where all of the words came
from. He was certain he'd never shared that much personal stuff in...well
probably ever. He wasn't the kind to put his fears on anyone else or let
someone see his weaknesses. But standing there in the steamy shower, so close
and intimate with Stiles in their own little world, he felt safe even if it
still terrified him to step out of the shower and back into his real life.
“You really don’t see how great you are do you?” Stiles whispered gently, more
to himself than to Derek. He brought his hand up to rest against the back of
Derek’s head, petting him ever so slightly just to soothe him. Part of Stiles
was completely convinced that sex would solve all their problems, but he knew
that wasn’t logical. He had to keep from making any rash decisions or doing
anything stupid. So, instead of rutting against Derek like a rabbit the way
that he wanted to, Stiles tilted his hips away a bit and continued to rub Derek
soothingly.
“How about this,” Stiles said softly, giving Derek’s hair a small tug to tell
him to pick his head up, “How about we put on some clothes, you go downstairs
and make breakfast while you call your mom, and I’ll do some reading. The
faster we figure out what this is and how it works, the faster we can put your
fears to rest, alright?” Honestly, Stiles didn’t know if finding out more would
actually put Derek’s fears to rest. He had no idea what he would find in that
book. For all Stiles knew, this bond could be breakable or it could be
influencing the way that the two of them were acting and he wasn’t so sure he
wanted to find that out if that was the case. Still, he knew that neither of
them would be able to do this with a clear conscience if they didn’t know
exactly what was going on. “Come on,” he said quietly, pulling away and
grabbing Derek’s hand instead to lead him out and into the main room. He
deposited the werewolf by his dresser with a kiss on his cheek and went over to
the plastic bag of clothes he had brought up two nights ago. He dug through it
until he found a pair of boxer briefs to slide on under his towel, only letting
it drop when they were all the way on. He picked out a random pair of
sweatpants, not really in the mood to put on real pants.
"Alright, okay," Derek agreed gently, letting Stiles lead him back to the
bedroom. He got dressed efficiently and glanced over to see Stiles hadn't
donned a shirt yet so he took a deep breath and grabbed an extra from his
drawer. "Stiles, could- would you mind?" he asked, stepping closer to his...
What were they? Didn't matter. He held out the shirt almost nervously - it was
nothing special, just a plain grey t-shirt. "It uh, you'll smell more like me
if you- but you don't have to. I just.." He shrugged, twisting the grey fabric
in his fingers nervously and then looking up at Stiles with hopefulness in his
eyes but also a bit of resignation like he was waiting to be told that he was
dumb and Stiles could wear his own shirt. Derek wouldn't be mad or anything.
Stiles could say no to anything if he didn't want to do it. Derek wouldn't
force him into anything.
“Sure,” Stiles said with a small shrug, “No big deal.” He took the shirt from
Derek with a smile and slipped it on. In all honesty, he still didn’t
completely understand the importance of scenting and he probably never would
since he was human. He got that it was an instinct and that it was some kind of
marking mechanism, but that was with real wolves. Scenting instincts mixed with
human emotions made it more difficult to understand and more difficult to
explain. Still, he didn’t see a problem with wearing Derek’s shirt. If he had,
he would have said so. He reach up and gave Derek’s shoulder a reassuring
squeeze before walking over to where he had packed away the book from the last
time he was reading it. He wanted to get this settled now. He slid it out of
the packaging carefully, opening up to the last page he had read before
settling on the futon. “I’ll tell you as soon as I find something,” Stiles said
to Derek, his eyes already scanning the pages, “But make sure to come get me
while the pancakes are still warm.”
Derek watched Stiles slip on the shirt with relief settling into his bones and
then tracked his movements over to the futon. He nodded at Stiles' words and
gave a small smile. "I'll bring them up when they're ready," he promised and
lingered a moment before heading downstairs. Cooking was something that Derek's
parents taught him and it soothed his nerves, glancing back towards the back
yard every few minutes. He called his mother while he was cooking to explain
what happened and she assured him that she and his father and Laura would be
down soon to handle the situation. Apparently they'd been waiting to get
Deucalion in a place where they had the upper hand. Derek would be content to
let them deal with it themselves honestly. He didn't want to have to think on
it too hard. When the blueberry pancakes were ready he smeared on some maple
butter and then heaped a generous amount of blueberry compote on each stack. He
loaded their plates with pancakes and bacon and got two glasses of orange juice
before loading it all onto a tray and carrying it upstairs. "Breakfast," he
said gently, pushing open the door with his hip and closing it with his foot.
"I hope you're hungry."
Stiles was speed-reading, though he made sure not to lose himself completely
into it. When he did, he tended to be a little violent when he turned the pages
and he didn’t want to damage the book. It was something precious for Derek, and
Stiles was going to keep that in mind. It felt like hours that he’d been
reading and getting nowhere, though it was honestly no more than a half hour.
Still, he’d made it through thirty more pages. He was about to put the book
down and see where Derek was with breakfast when something finally caught his
eye. It was a personal entry that had been copied in from someone’s journal. A
lot of it was mushy romantic crap, but smack in the middle were those words.
Soul bond. Stiles was seconds away from leaping up to tell Derek when the
werewolf entered the room.
“C’mere!” Stiles said excitedly, waving his hand quickly to gesture Derek over,
“Listen to this, I found something literally five seconds ago. It’s a journal
entry.
‘I have never met another who has understood me so deeply, so completely. There
is not one part of me that I wish to hide from him. We are one in the same. It
is as though a piece of me that I never knew was missing has been found. He
completes me. We are a soul bond. There is no other feeling like it in this
universe, to be reunited so that a fragmented soul may become one again. We
were meant to find each other. It was written in the stars. We were born for
each other, created purely to bring the other happiness. Part of him rests
within me and part of myself rests within him, but now two souls have been made
whole. We have consummated our bond under the eyes of fate.’”
Stiles looked up when he finished reading, nearly bouncing in his seat. Sure,
it was a personal account and there was hopefully a more concrete definition
further on, but it was a start. They were once step closer.
Derek startled slightly at Stiles' reaction but he hurried over when Stiles
said he found something. He set the food down on the table and moved to sit by
Stiles. Without even thinking about it he put his arm around the younger man's
waist and read along with Stiles over his shoulder, listening to the words
being spoken and reading them concreted them in his mind. "It's us," he mumbled
softly, eyes skimming down the rest of the page. He swallowed thickly and then
shook his head, gently taking the book and setting it aside. "We should eat
first. Then we'll keep reading. My mother will be here in a couple of hours and
we can ask her about it some more if we don't get all of the answers we want
okay?"
Stiles allowed the book to be taken from him and he responded with a huffed
“Okay.” It wasn’t that he was angry with Derek for making him stop, but Stiles
had been in the zone and they were so close to answers. A heavenly smell hit
Stiles’ nose and he looked down at the table, his stomach growling in immediate
response. “Holy crap, that smells amazing,” Stiles said with a smile. The two
plates looked exactly alike, so he grabbed the one closest to him and stuffed
some bacon in his mouth as he went about cutting his pancakes. “Oh Jesus lord,
I was right,” Stiles moaned as he chewed. He wasn’t the most polite eater, but
everyone would always know when he liked his food. As soon as a chunk of
pancake was free from the rest, Stiles shoved that into his mouth and had the
exact same reaction but even better, or worse depending on how you look at it.
“I feel like I’m being seduced by food,” Stiles groaned, “And I think it’s
working.”
Derek blushed lightly at Stiles' strong reactions to his cooking. The noises
coming from his mouth would make a porn star blush but that wasn't really the
point and Derek didn't need to be thinking about porn and Stiles at the same
time. Really. He didn't. "I'm, uh," he cleared his throat and gave a lopsided
smile, glancing at Stiles sideways. "I'm glad you like it. S'my grandma's
recipe actually." He ate a bit more neatly, cutting into his pancakes with
practiced motions and scooping a neat bite into his mouth. He had to admit that
these were the best pancakes he'd made yet and wondered if it had anything to
do with Stiles being the one he was making them for. Maybe he was just better
utilizing his talents and focusing better now that he had someone who made him
genuinely happy.
Stiles didn't really have anything like old family recipes handed down through
generations, but his father did show him how to bone and grill a fish really
well. Maybe he would get the chance to show Derek sometime. They are the rest
of their meal in comfortable silence, trading a few shy looks and small smiles
as they did. It was almost funny to see Derek looking shy, because his outward
appearance was so intimidating. Stiles supposed this was new for the both of
them and that made him feel better. He shamelessly licked his plate when he was
done with his food, figuring that Derek had seen him do worse. When he was done
he scooted down on the couch, away from the food, before picking up the book
again to continue reading. The journal entry was a personal account and Stiles
had to know if they were speaking metaphorically about the souls or not. "Hey,
I think this might be a real definition," he said to Derek a few moments later,
" 'A soul bond is a literal bonding of souls. The connection exists between two
people when, at birth, their souls were split in half. One half remains with
the owner while the other goes to the respective partner and vice versa.' "
Stiles paused for a moment. Part of Derek's soul was inside him?
"So...basically...we were made for each other?" Derek asked with furrowed
brows, scanning over that page and the next but that was the only thing on soul
bonds. Did that mean he and Stiles had a choice in it or was that taken away
too? Did feelings have to exist there first and then they were just exemplified
or what? He turned the page in vain hope and surprisingly found another small
snippet of text, pointing it out. "'Affection towards the other must first be
felt on both accounts for the soul bond to be truly bound. Those affections
grow rapidly, the feeling of falling in love sped up a hundred fold so as to
reunite the souls as quickly as possible," he read quietly, mind going at a
thousand miles per hour. "So...our souls were- were split when we were born and
half of mine is in you and half of yours is in me and the only way for the bond
to really be...activated, for lack of a better word, is for feelings to already
be developing. So...it's not- it's real, right? What we're feeling? That's what
it's telling us?"
Stiles re-read the small chunk of words that Derek had read out loud three more
time to make sure that there wasn't some weird hidden meaning. "I think that's
what it says," Stiles said slowly, scanning the rest of the page to be sure,
"So basically what was supposed to take months took us days." It made sense now
that they had all the information. He and Derek had gotten close
extraordinarily quickly. It had seemed a bit unnatural, but Stiles supposed
that for them it was completely natural. It was nice to know that they had free
reign over his own feelings and that he wasn't being forced into anything. All
of these thought and others ran rampant through Stiles' head. He realized that
he was being very quiet, so Stiles closed the book gently and wrapped it back
up in the special packaging. In one fluid movement, Stiles straddled Derek's
thighs where he was sitting on the couch and rested his arms over the man's
shoulders. "So we were doing a thing last night that I really wouldn't mind
continuing and it involved some lips on skin and some movement of hips and you
said we had a couple hours until your family got here right?" Stiles said,
tilting his head to the side in question when he finished talking. Now that he
knew everything was on the up and up, there was nothing stopping him from going
for it. A teenage boy could only resist reciprocated feelings for so long.
Derek was lost to this thoughts as well, both quiet as they worked through it
on their own. He was filled with relief that this was something real and
something that wasn't supernatural. Or at least wasn't unnatural or forced on
them. He came out of his head when Stiles took the book and wrapped it up
carefully, his fingers working slow and steady so he wouldn't damage the book.
He was a surprised to say the least when Stiles climbed up into his lap and
leaned in close but Derek's hands went to his hips automatically, holding him
tightly. "We have a couple hours," Derek confirmed with a nod, eyes wide but
not displeased in the least. He studied Stiles' face but there was no
hesitation or uncertainty so Derek leaned in to kiss him soft and slow, wanting
to go slow and work their way up to more. "Do- would you like to move to the
bed?" he offered between kisses, unable to stop his hands from roaming
underneath Stiles' t-shirt to get at soft skin.
Stiles followed Derek’s pace, letting him control the kiss. Sure, part of him
wanted to get a move on, but he didn’t mind going slow. It might be better that
way, being able to really focus on the sensations and figuring out exactly what
the other person liked. Stiles’ fingers slid through Derek’s hair and his body
arched into Derek’s touch when he ran his hands over Stiles’ bare skin. “Bed is
fine,” Stiles mumbled, already getting a bit worked up, “Here is fine, the
floor is fine, the wall is fine, outside, inside, in a car, on a plane,
anywhere you want really is perfectly fine.” He honestly couldn’t care less
where they were as long as they were touching. That was definitely the most
important part. They had to be touching. It occurred to some small part of
Stiles that when Derek’s family came, they were going to be able to tell
exactly what had happened between them and even though that was a little
embarrassing, Stiles found that he didn’t care enough to stop. He was kind of
proud, that someone like Derek actually wanted to get with him. He’d announce
it to the world if he could.
Derek chuckled softly against Stiles' mouth and pulled back enough to pull the
t-shirt off of him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Anywhere is fine with me,"
he agreed and then stood up smoothly, taking Stiles with him and getting
Stiles' legs around his waist. He carried him over to the large bed and laid
him down, taking a moment to admire him there before crawling over him,
covering Stiles' body with his own. "Is it too soon to admit that I'm probably
falling in love with you?" he asked on a low whisper, ghosting his lips over
Stiles' bare collarbone where the line of dark hickeys still stayed. "Because I
think I might be. A lot."
Stiles blushed when Derek stopped to seemingly admire him and he immediately
felt the urge to cover himself out of habit. He never got the chance though,
since Derek promptly laid down on top of Stiles. The weight of Derek’s body was
warm and grounding and Stiles couldn’t think of anywhere else he would rather
be. “Well, supposedly that’s an extremely normal for our situation,” Stiles
blurted out, face pink as he watched Derek trace the line of hickeys he left
last night, “And it’s possible that I myself could maybe feel a similar way as
well possibly.” Stiles didn’t know why he couldn’t just say it straight out,
but his mind was a little all over the place right now as he waited for Derek
to do something.
Derek pressed his smile into Stiles' shoulder and stayed there a moment before
pulling back, letting one hand stray bravely down to cup him through his sweat
pants where Stiles already seemed to be quite interested in the proceedings.
"Tell me what you want, Stiles," Derek requested quietly. "I'm not good at this
tell me- do you want me to use my hand or- or my mouth? Do you want to go slow
or all the way or just part of the way? I'm okay with anything I just. I want
to make this good for you. Tell me what you want?"
“Well you’re off to a pretty fucking good start,” Stiles gasped, eyes slamming
shut as he shamelessly arched into Derek’s hand, biting down hard on his lip as
he did. If he was only half hard before, he was completely ready to go now. He
stayed quiet for a moment until he was sure he could speak in full sentences.
“This isn’t just about me,” Stiles said, slowly opening his eyes again to look
at Derek. Stiles’ skin was already beginning to flush, his pupils starting to
dilate. “This is about what you want too,” he went on. Stiles wasn’t all that
experienced on anything sexual, but he knew how to give himself a handjob, so
he figured he could do the same for Derek. After a brief moment of hesitation
caused by insecurity, Stiles reached down to cup Derek as well. “H-Hands tod-
day?” Stiles stammered out, surprised by how touching Derek made him feel good
as well.
Derek gasped softly when he felt Stiles' hand cupping his dick and he arched
into the touch greedily, all but begging for more. He nodded fiercely and made
a soft noise of pleasure deep in his chest. "Y-yea, hands. Good okay," he
agreed easily, pretty much soft as clay in Stiles' hands when it came to
anything he wanted to do. If Stiles wanted him to wear lace underwear he'd
probably do it even if it felt weird. "Should- pants should be gone-" he said
with a nod, swallowing thickly and looking to Stiles for confirmation as he
slipped his fingers underneath the elastic of Stiles' sweats and boxers.
“Clothes, why are we even wearing clothes?” Stiles muttered as he began tugging
on the shirt Derek hadn’t taken off yet, lifting his hips enough so that Derek
could slide off his own articles of clothing. The werewolf’s fingers, even
though they just barely touched his skin, felt hot like brands and Stiles
wanted to feel them everywhere. His heart was thundering in his chest and
Stiles felt warm all over. He wanted everything off as quickly as possible so
that Derek’s hand could resume its position on Stiles’ cock where it most
definitely belonged. He nearly moaned at the thought and scrabbled to get rid
of his own pants and Derek’s.
Derek helped Stiles get rid of their clothes as best he could manage, ending up
with both of them getting caught or tangled in some manner or other. Eventually
they were freed though and naked again just as they'd been in the shower only
now Derek was allowed to touch and he definitely wanted to touch. He ran a hand
down Stiles' body, keeping propped on a forearm so he could watch Stiles' face
when he finally reached the trail of dark hair under his belly button,
following it down until his fingers brushed over Stiles' cock and then wrapped
around confidently.
When they were finally naked, Stiles was looking to get the show on the road,
but it seemed that Derek was content to take his time. His hands trailed fire
down Stiles’ body and when a large hand finally reached his cock, he let out an
embarrassingly high-pitched moan, one that he would probably deny later. Stiles
immediately thrust into Derek’s hand without thinking, biting down on his lip,
used to trying to keep quiet if he ever did this in the encampment. He forgot
for a moment that he was supposed to be touching Derek as well, but as soon as
he remembered, Stiles reached down and took Derek’s cock in his hand. The angle
was weird, but that didn’t stop Stiles from giving a few slow strokes.
Derek let out an involuntary noise when Stiles' calloused hand wrapped around
his cock and he arched into it, shaking with the pleasure that shot through his
body, down his spine. "D-Don't be quiet," he begged, mouthing at Stiles' neck
and sighing out through his nose. "I want to hear you, Stiles. Please." He
sucked in another mark just beneath Stiles' ear that would be pretty impossible
to cover up this time, unlike the easily concealable ones he'd put on Stiles'
collarbone. He started to move his hand, pulling back and staring down at
Stiles' face like he was something amazing and precious to be cherished, like
he was something Derek never wanted to lose.
Stiles’ eyes were shut, but his face was completely bare and open. His skin was
flushed with pleasure, his jaw slack. Small moans tumbled from his lips, soft
groans, whatever noise he would usually try to keep in, he let out. Every spot
where Derek’s lips touched was lit up like a neon sign and Stiles bared his
neck in a silent request for more, for anything, for contact. They were so far
apart, too far apart. Stiles wanted to crawl inside of Derek and make himself a
home. He tried to move his hand with the same pace as Derek’s, not wanting to
forget about the werewolf’s pleasure. His free hand was curled into the sheets,
pulling at them, wrinkling them, anchoring him.
Derek growled low in his throat as Stiles bared his own to Derek and he leaned
in, unable to resist the temptation as he closed his mouth over Stiles' pulse
point. He bit down with blunt human teeth, just hard enough to leave a faint
red mark that would fade in an hour or two. He pulled back and soothed his
tongue over the mark to ease the sting, working his hand a bit faster around
Stiles. He was already getting close himself; a combination of not getting laid
in a very, very long time and also the fact that it was Stiles and Stiles did a
lot of things to his libido. "I'm close Stiles," he gasped out softly, rolling
his hips forward slowly into Stiles' hand.
Stiles was breathing hard now, every other exhale a moan. He couldn’t think
about anything besides Derek, Derek, Derek. Stiles adjusted the speed of his
hand when Derek did, wanting them to be experiencing the same thing together.
His hips had found a special rhythm and Stiles fucked into Derek’s fist
shamelessly, chasing the pleasure. He could feel a familiar feeling coiling up
inside of him and he knew that he was close as well. Stiles had known that this
wasn’t going to last very long from the beginning. “Fuck, Derek,” he moaned,
desperate for more, though he didn’t know more of what. Acting on his feelings,
Stiles took the hand that had been tangled in the sheets and threw it over
Derek’s shoulder, his palm laying flat in the middle of the werewolf’s back. He
pressed down. He knew that he couldn’t actually make Derek move, but the older
man would get the idea that Stiles wanted more points of contact between them.
Derek moved over Stiles, pushing himself into Stiles' fist in time with the
rhythm they had had fallen into. Stiles' hand working Derek and Derek's hand
working Stiles and their hips canting forward. It was like a dance and somehow
they seemed to be masters at it already. Pleasure was curling white hot in the
pit of Derek's belly, coiling up tighter and tighter and threatening to explode
but he tried to hold it back, wanting to come at the same time as Stiles did.
He let the younger man pull him closer, doing whatever he wanted without any
sort of hesitation. "C'mon Stiles, c'mon. I'm so close. Want you to come with
me," he begged against Stiles' mouth, kissing him sloppily and unable to really
keep it up because of the way they were both moving against each other. "Come
on, Stiles."
Stiles had thought maybe he would last a bit longer, but then Derek started
talking. He started murmuring against Stiles lips in that voice, saying his
name, asking him to come. Stiles was done for. His orgasm came crashing through
him before Derek even finished the second gentle request, the werewolf’s name
on his lips. It was different from any other that Stiles had experienced and he
suspected that Derek had something to do with that. Stiles would never be able
to give himself a satisfying handjob again, not after this. His nails dug into
Derek’s back, leaving scratches that would be gone within minutes. Part of him
wished they would stay, just so he could have some kind of mark on Derek, but
it was a fleeting thought. Somehow, Stiles managed to keep aware of Derek and
his needs despite his own intense pleasure. Later, Stiles will probably be
proud of that.
Derek gave into his pleasure mere seconds after Stiles, tumbling over the edge
into his orgasm and calling out Stiles' name for anyone around to hear though
there wasn't actually anyone around in the first place. He came in hot sticky
white stripes over Stiles' belly and his eyes went red but his fangs and claws
didn't come out to play. He couldn't help but love the way his come looked over
Stiles' pale skin as he stared down at the younger man for a moment before
collapsing on top of him despite the mess. He really hoped Stiles wouldn't mind
his weight but he felt boneless and needed a moment to collect himself before
he could even attempt anything. "Jesus fuck Stiles," he gasped out against
Stiles' neck, breathing so heavily he was practically panting. "You were- that
was- and I just- fuck." He nuzzled in close and maybe wiggled around just
slightly so that the mess between them, their mingled scents, really sank into
his own and Stiles' skin. He didn't want to smell like anyone other than Stiles
and he wanted Stiles to smell like him and sex. He wanted everyone to know that
Stiles was his and no one else's. It wasn't as deep as he'd eventually like it
to be but they would get to the actual...penetration part later and then no one
would dare even look at Stiles wrong without worrying about being on the
receiving end of someone's wrath. Everyone knew how protective an alpha was
over his partner and he and Stiles were much, much more than just partners now.
They were...soul mates. As cheesy as it was. It was true.
Stiles was completely breathless. He was playing around with the idea that he
may have actually died. Death by orgasm. It seemed like a fitting way for a
teenage boy to go. Stiles’ mind was completely fried as he lay there underneath
Derek. The older man was heavy, but not so heavy that it was uncomfortable.
Stiles could feel him wiggling ever so slightly, mixing up the mess the lay
between their abdomens. He figured it had something to do with scenting, so
Stiles didn’t bring it up. It didn’t really bother him anyway. Sure, it would
be a bitch to clean up later but Stiles doubted he could lift his own arms
right now, so it was a moot point. He let out a breathless laugh at Derek’s
words. “Right back at you, big guy,” he chuckled, moving his neck to allow
Derek more room to nuzzle or cuddle or rub or whatever it was he needed to do.
Stiles actually liked how close Derek wanted to stay after sex. It made it feel
more real and less like a quick lay, which he knew it wasn’t in the first
place, but Stiles wasn’t going to hold himself to anything he thought or said
while in his current state. They laid silently together for a few minutes, both
of them trying to get the air back in their lungs as they came down from their
post-orgasm high. “What do I smell like?” Stiles asked, suddenly curious, “Do I
smell better to you now after this? Is there a purpose to it, or is it just
instinct when you scent someone… romantically?” He could probably find these
answers if he wanted, but Derek was right here in front of him and asking Derek
didn’t involve any moving.
"You smell perfect," Derek answered with a soft, gentle rumble deep in his
chest. His voice was muffled where his face was pressed into Stiles' neck,
rubbing his face over his soft skin and trying to absorb as much of Stiles'
scent into himself as he could. "You smell like me and sex and you. You smell
happy like green apples but not that artificial crap, like fresh apples in an
orchard. You smell like you always do, like limes and strawberries and fresh
cut grass and rain and dirt and sweat. I've never smelt anything more
enticing." He licked out against Stiles' pulse point, his skin salty with sweat
from their activities. "You- it's just like...claiming, I suppose. After this
and especially after we...you know, go further, it'll warn the other werewolves
away. They'll know not to touch you inappropriately or harm you without risking
making me angry. And people know that I'm not someone to make an enemy out of
considering who my family is. My family is your family now too, you know.
Everything that's mine is yours. I'll give you everything, Stiles."
Stiles stayed quiet as Derek spoke, intent on taking in the information. It was
definitely interesting stuff. He had no idea that emotions had scents, or that
he himself smelled like so many different things. He wasn’t sure how he felt
about the fact that he still smelled like dirt even after a shower, but if
Derek wasn’t complaining then he supposed he didn’t have to worry about it.
Stiles hadn’t known that scent played such a big factor with other werewolves.
Derek has more or less just placed a neon sign over his head saying ‘Taken. Do
Not Touch.’ Stiles kind of liked the idea of that. It made things easier at any
rate to figure out who was available and who wasn’t. Sure, that didn’t stop
some people, but that was beside the point.
Stiles was touched by Derek’s willingness to just share every aspect of his
life with him. He was just so open and honest to Stiles and it made him feel
loved. Cherished. Trusted. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek lazily and held
him in a loose hug. “If I had anything to give, it would be yours,” he
murmured. He would be completely alright with just staying like this the rest
of the day, but Derek’s family was coming and he would prefer to not be naked
and covered in come when they did. “We should wipe ourselves up before it gets
itchy,” Stiles said after another second.
"You don't have to give me anything. Just you is enough," Derek murmured softly
against Stiles' skin and pulled back to kiss him soft and sweet and slow for a
long moment. When Stiles suggested getting cleaned up Derek sighed and nodded,
pulling away slowly. "Stay here. I'll go get a wash cloth okay?" he said and
stole one more kiss before forcing himself back and off the bed. He padded
completely naked into the bathroom, unashamed as he disappeared. He grabbed a
clean cloth and ran the water until it went hot, soaking the washcloth through.
He cleaned himself up first and then rinsed the cloth again so it was clean,
squeezing out the excess water before heading back. He climbed up onto the bed
beside Stiles and lay down again, carefully wiping Stiles down to clean him up.
He was careful not to pay too much attention to Stiles' cock in case he was
still a bit sensitive and once he was clean Derek tossed the wash cloth away,
laying close to Stiles and reaching for him. "Do you mind staying here a bit
longer? I'm not ready to get up just yet," he asked, hoping Stiles would let
him cuddle up beside him again. All Derek felt like doing now was being close
to Stiles, now that he knew he was allowed to keep him and touch him and hold
him. It was perfect really.
Stiles rested his eyes, waiting for Derek to return. It was a nice feeling,
being so perfectly tired after doing what they just did. Stiles felt like, no
matter what happened for the rest of the day, he wouldn’t care. He was just
that relaxed and content. Stiles opened his eyes when he heard Derek walking
back, prepared to take the wash cloth to clean himself, but Derek seemed quite
happy to take care of everything for him. It made Stiles blush a bit, but there
was a happy little smile on his face. He considered putting his underwear back
on once he was clean, but a turn of his head told him that he and Derek had
more or less flung their clothes across the room and Stiles didn’t feel like
getting up to go and get them. Instead of answering Derek’s question, Stiles
just smiled and wrapped his arms around Derek, bringing them close together. He
threaded his fingers through the older man’s hair and brought him in for a lazy
kiss. Stiles’ cock gave a valiant and painful twitch at the proximity, causing
him to flinch. “Down boy,” he muttered, talking to himself as he glanced down.
Without another word, Stiles moved up until Derek would be able to fit his face
in the crook of his neck, knowing how much he liked it. “Wake me up when your
family gets here,” he said softly, his eyes already drifting shut.
Derek went easily towards Stiles and kissed him back with fervor, leaning into
him heavily and wrapping him up. He loved to be close to Stiles. It was
something he was quickly becoming attached to. When Stiles laid back, Derek
curled into his side, head on Stiles' chest and face buried in his neck like
Stiles allowed. He smiled into Stiles' neck and nodded at his request to be
woken up. "I'll let you know when I hear them coming down the road. It'll wake
me up anyways," he said, yawning a bit and letting his eyes slip shut. "Take a
nap Stiles. It's been a stressful morning."
Stiles was asleep before Derek even finished speaking. It had been a stressful
morning. Deucalion was still out there after his botched kidnapping attempt.
Part of Stiles was curious as to what Deucalion had actually had in mind. He
mentioned masking Stiles’ scent or something so that it would be harder for
Derek to find him. Did he have some kind of elaborate game set up? Did he just
want to fight Derek or did he want more time with Stiles before Derek showed
up? These questions rested in Stiles’ mind without him even knowing as he
slept, curled into Derek. He felt safe and protected and he slept soundly.
***** Chapter 9 *****
Derek only woke up again when he heard the sound of tires turning off asphalt
onto the gravel road that led the way to Derek's house, groaning softly and
tightening his arms around Stiles. "Stiles," he mumbled sleepily, shaking him
gently awake. "Stiles, my family is gonna be here in about five minutes or so.
We should probably put on clothes." He didn't make a move to get up though, too
comfortable where he was, wrapped up tightly in Stiles' body and warm as he
could be even though werewolves typically ran pretty hot.
“What happened to the whole no modesty among werewolves thing?” Stiles grumbled
sleepily in return. He gave himself another few seconds before he opened his
eyes. Honestly, he didn’t really want Derek’s family to see him naked, so he
pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s temple before wiggling out of the werewolf’s
grasp. He knew that his absence would make Derek wake up as well. Stiles
stumbled over to his pants and underwear, pulling them on as he picked up
Derek’s and threw them towards the bed for him. He found the shirt that Derek
had asked him to wear and pulled it on, figuring it would make him happy. “Come
on, we have a dirt bag to dispose of,” Stiles said with a large yawn.
"There is no modesty but that doesn't mean I want everyone to see you naked,"
Derek pointed out, wanting to keep Stiles to himself. He wasn't interested in
sharing. He made a noise of protest when Stiles wiggled away but he sighed and
took his clothes when they were tossed to him, pulling them on. He stood up and
moved towards Stiles once they were both dressed, pulling him close as the car
got closer. "So...what does this mean for us?" he asked quietly, tilting his
head curiously. "What do we tell people we are to each other? Boyfriends? Soul
mates? That sounds cheesy."
Stiles’ arms hung lazily around Derek’s waist as he thought. The question had
honestly never occurred to him. Did they have to have a label? It would make
things a little easier, and saying they were soul mates did sound a little too
high school even if it was technically true. “I don’t really have a
preference,” Stiles finally decided, “Soul mates, boyfriends, partners, mates,
just ‘together’. There probably aren’t really words to put a label on what this
is.” Maybe if he read a little more in the book, he would see what the owner of
the journal entry had called themselves. It would be worth a shot later, but
for now they had something to deal with. “Come on,” Stiles said, stepping away
but taking Derek’s hand, “Let’s go pretend to be not completely horrible hosts
and open the door for your family.”
 
"Mates," Derek hummed quietly, liking the way it sounded rolling off his
tongue. He nodded at Stiles' suggestion of going to let his family in but he
hesitated, reaching out. "Wait, just," he gave a shy little smile and tugged
Stiles in again, arms going around him and hugging him tightly he murmured,
"I'm glad it was you." He pulled back to press a sweet kiss to Stiles' cheek,
giving him a small smile just as he heard the doors of a car opening and
closing outside. "Come on. We should go downstairs," he hummed, pulling away
and keeping just Stiles' hand. He led Stiles downstairs and reached the door at
the same time as his parents and he pulled it open.
"Are you alright?" Talia asked immediately, stepping in and looking Stiles over
with wide brown eyes, searching his face. "Deucalion didn't hurt you at all?"
Her worry was obvious in her features, Derek's father standing back quietly
beside Colby, Talia and Teddy's second in command. Derek's father looked much
like Derek but a bit stockier, slightly shorter with a wider squarer jaw. Their
eyes were identical though. Colby was taller than Derek, though, but thinner
also, more lean compared to Derek's bulk. He had sandy blonde hair pulled back
in a ponytail and a beard that he was starting to grow, eyes dark blue and jaw
sharp. He flashed Derek a small smile, arms crossed, but then went back to
waiting for Talia and Stiles to finish so they could go find Deucalion.
Stiles flushed light pink at Derek’s words and he had no idea what to say, so
he just returned the hug, hoping it would convey his feelings. They were both
wading in strange waters here and were both more or less winging it. It seemed
to be working well enough for them for now. Stiles allowed Derek to lead him
downstairs, deciding that he would rather have the werewolf between him and
Derek’s family. He wasn’t sure how they were going to react to what happened,
but it always helped to have a bit of a buffer. Evidently, that didn’t matter
with Talia. She was in Stiles’ space in a second, eyes scanning over his body,
searching for injuries.
“I’m fine,” Stiles reassured her, “Really. Just a few bumps and bruises,
nothing I haven’t had before.”
“What exactly happened?” Talia asked, “Derek was rather vague over the phone.”
She gave her son a look that said he had to use more words in these situations
before turning back to Stiles.
“I went for a run in the morning, I stepped over the property line, one of
Deucalion’s betas tackled me to the ground, I screamed, and then Deucalion
drugged me. I’m not sure how much time I lost, but Derek intervened pretty
quickly I think.” Talia listened intently and though they weren’t in front of
him, Stiles could tell that the other two were as well.
“Derek said you confined him?” Teddy questioned.
“Yeah,” Stiles answered with a nod, “Derek had me do something with the dirt
and then say a bunch of words in some language over and over and he said it
worked.” The concern was nice, but it was even nicer when Stiles thought about
how soon Deucalion wouldn’t be a problem for them anymore. He almost wanted to
go and give the alpha is own two cents, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to.
Not after just being reminded how weak he really was.
Talia's brows raised but it was Colby who spoke up. "You showed him the
containment spell? And it worked without mountain ash?" he asked with obvious
surprise but he looked very much impressed, eyeing Stiles up quietly for a
moment. "He's stronger than Deaton originally thought. What did you use instead
of mountain ash or rowan?"
"Mistletoe, buried in the dirt around Deucalion in a circle," Derek answered
solemnly and all three elders made faces of approval and intrigue.
"Even harder to utilize complete power of. I'm impressed, Stiles," Talia said
and then hugged him tight and brief. "Teddy, Colby and I will take care of it,
alright? You both are too close to this to handle well. You know the
authorities won't do much so it'll be up to us. We'll transport him back to our
property."
Derek nodded gravely. "We'll show you where he is. Stiles will need to lift the
containment," he said regretfully, like he wanted Stiles to be nowhere near
Deucalion again but Talia shook her head, raising a hand.
"It's no need. Deaton was on his way as well. He should be here soon to lift it
and you can escort him when he arrives. We'll follow by scent. I would like to
have a word with Deucalion," Talia explained and Derek relaxed visibly. "And
Derek? I would like to have a conversation with you and Stiles also before we
leave alright?"
Derek blushed but nodded, glaring at Colby when the man pretended to wave a
hand in front of his nose from a bad smell. Teddy squeezed Derek's shoulder as
the three passed to the back door, giving both him and Stiles a smile. "I'm
happy for you both," he said quietly and then the three were outside, stripping
down and shifting into their wolves. There may be little modesty within packs
but Derek still looked away because it was still his parents and he didn't want
to willingly see them naked. He wasn't seven and curious about bodies anymore.
Stiles had zoned out for most of the rest of the conversation, though he hadn’t
meant to. He just knew it didn’t concern him so he didn’t really feel an
overwhelming need to listen in. Until he heard his name, that is. It took him a
moment to catch on. Talia’s words and gently pointed look, along with Colby’s
joking gesture, but as soon as Stiles realized that they knew what he and Derek
had done mere hours before, his face burned bright red. Damn werewolves. He
wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to deal with everyone being able to
know everything about anything that he did. How would he ever surprise any of
them? Maybe being an emissary would help with that.
“God, that was mortifying,” Stiles groaned, leaning against the nearest wall
and letting his still-red face thump against it with his eyes closed, “How do
you deal with that? I mean, my dad and I barely even made it through the sex
talk in one piece and that was way before I had even ever done anything.” He
could still remember that painful twenty minutes with stark clarity and the way
that he and his father had stuttered through all the awkwardness of the
conversation topic because neither of them wanted to think about the other
knowing or doing anything that had to do with sex.
Stiles cracked his eyes open to look at Derek. Perfect Derek. He still really
couldn’t believe that this man truly wanted to be with him. Derek was gorgeous.
He could get any person on this earth to present themselves just by saying
hello. Stiles was nothing like that. He was still a gangly teenager, and yet
this person, no, this man wanted to be with him. It was mind-boggling.
Honestly, despite all the proclamations that made Stiles’ heart melt and his
face flame, he was still insecure. What could Derek see in someone as young and
average as him? He didn’t want to voice any of his worries, just because he
knew that Derek would be perfect and he would reassure Stiles, telling him that
none of that was true about himself and that Stiles was amazing. Still, he
couldn’t help but worry.
"I guess it's just something you get used to," Derek answered with a slightly
apologetic smile, rubbing his thumb over Stiles' knuckles to try to soothe him
a bit. He shifted closer to his… mate – (Mate? He was pretty sure he liked that
the best. It sounded more serious than boyfriend,) - and reached up to trail
his fingers over the soft skin of Stiles' jaw, down his neck to press over the
dark hickeys he'd left there. He wondered what Stiles was thinking about when
the younger man cracked his eyes open to look at Derek, their gazes locking.
Derek thought Stiles looked sad and wondered why, thought maybe it was because
of his father. Derek would offer again later to try and find Stiles' father.
Hopefully he hadn't gotten too far and Derek had some friends who would help,
who also shared Derek's thoughts on human slavery being wrong, who would leave
the encampment in peace and try to talk Stiles' father into coming with them.
"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked quietly, quirking his lips in a small
curious smile. "Everything okay?"
Stiles smiled back at Derek but he could see the concern in the man's eyes. He
didn't want to say what was really wrong, but he couldn't lie either. It was a
tough spot to be in. Damn werewolves. Still, he didn't want Derek to worry.
Stiles never wanted anyone to have to worry about him. It was just the way he
was. He would do just about anything to help someone that asked him for it, but
he almost never wanted to let anyone else help him. His father had told him
more than once how stupid it was when it had caused Stiles to get into trouble.
Stiles knew it was dumb, but he wasn't always thinking about himself, much more
often about others.
"Everything's fine," Stiles said quietly, averting his eyes and breaking their
gaze, "I'm just thinking." There, that wasn't really a lie. He could be
thinking about anything. His dad, Deucalion, Derek. Hell, he could be thinking
about breakfast for all Derek knew. Stiles smiled a bit wider for Derek and
pulled the man down to him for a gentle kiss, something to reassure him.
Seconds later, there was a knock at the door. Deaton. "I've got it," Stiles
murmured against Derek's lips, loathing to pull away. Still, he did and he went
to answer the door.
"Good afternoon, Stiles," Deaton said with a smile.
"Good afternoon," Stiles replied with a nod.
"Talia called me," Deaton said as he came in, "What you've done is very
impressive. You have more potential than I realized. Training you would be an
honor, should you decide to become an emissary." Stiles face went pink.
"Thank you," Stiles muttered as they walked back to where Derek was. He would
need to lead Deaton to Deucalion.
Derek was happy and something warm settled in his chest when Stiles was the one
to initiate their next kiss; he felt like since the first couple of times it
had always been him who was the one to lean in first and press their lips
together. It reminded him that this wasn't a one sided thing on his part and it
was something Stiles wanted as well which made him relax significantly. He made
a noise of protest when Stiles pulled away and he leaned forward to chase
Stiles' lips before he could stop himself, finally coming to his senses and
leaning back with his ears flaming red.
He put his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants as he waited for Stiles and
Deaton to join him. He rubbed the back of his neck a bit and then looked at
Deaton when he entered, dipping his head in a hello. "Alan," he greeted.
"Thanks for coming out. Stiles and I really appreciate it."
"Of course, Derek. You know I would do anything for your family," Deaton
responded. "If you'd just show me out to where you've contained Deucalion I can
assist your parents in moving him off of your property."
"Sure," Derek agreed with a nod and looked back at Stiles, gaze softening
without his conscious decision. "Do you want to wait here, Stiles? Or come with
us?"
Stiles thought quietly for a moment, looking between Derek and Deaton, who were
both waiting for his response. Logically, he knew that he was the safest in the
house with all the protective runes and such, especially if he went into his or
Kenna’s room. He definitely didn’t want to see Deucalion again. At the same
time, he didn’t want to be left alone. He bit his lip as he thought.
“I’ll go with you,” Stiles finally answered. He wanted to stay with Derek more
than he didn’t want to see Deucalion. He could see that they would prefer he
didn’t come along, but they weren’t about to tell him that he couldn’t.
“I suggest we get going before the sun sets,” Deaton said to break the silence
that had settled over them. Stiles nodded and headed towards the back door.
Once outside, Derek took the lead. Though Stiles was the one that had run the
trail earlier in the day, there was no way he would be able to retrace his
steps exactly in such a new place. Besides, if Derek was just following the
scent, then he could lead them in the most direct path. Stiles noticed how he
didn’t shift, and he knew that was probably for his and Deaton’s benefit. They
were all silent as they walked, things looking vaguely familiar to Stiles.
Finally, they emerged into the small area where Deucalion sat, now awake,
surrounded by Derek’s family in their shifted forms.
“What is that delicious scent?” Deucalion mused patronizingly, eyes glowing red
as he inhaled, “Oh, look who’s returned, though not the same as before. It
seems you do know how to use him for his intended purpose, Derek. After all,
what else could he be for with that soft skin and positively sinful mouth. I’d
like to see it do more than talk. Tell me; was his skin pretty as he flushed?
Was he loud? I’ll bet he’s a screamer. I’m sure he was obedient as well. He
seems like a fighter, but I can just imagine how pliant and submissive he
becomes in the face of pleasure, like a docile little slut.”
Without even thinking, Stiles reached down and picked up the biggest rock he
could find, launching it directly at Deucalion’s head. The werewolf moved out
of the way, but just barely. One of the sharp edges of the rock sliced open the
side of his head, a wound that healed within seconds.
“Feisty,” Deucalion tutted in disapproval, “I see you still have a ways to go
with his training, Derek.” It seemed Deucalion was very confident protected
behind his barrier. Stiles was practically shaking with anger and embarrassment
and he moved to reach for another rock.
Derek felt the rage sear through his veins, making his blood boil. The half of
him that was wolf was whining and thrashing to be released, to be allowed to
rend flesh from bone, to taste blood on his tongue, to watch the life drain
from Deucalion's body and know that they would never have to worry about him
again. But the rational human part of him could see a desperate man's taunting
words for what they were; Deucalion's anxiety and fear were a bitter stench in
the air and he wasn't fooling anyone. Stiles' presence turned out to be
extremely helpful because all Derek had to do was listen for his steady heart
beat, tap into that invisible tether that was almost palpable that linked him
to Stiles and he tamped down on the fury. Stiles' being there let Derek stay
quiet and controlled instead of raucous and wild. He did let his eyes flash
alpha red, though. But he did that on purpose.
"Don't," Derek said gently, reaching out to stop Stiles from reaching down for
another stone again. "He isn't worth your energy, Stiles. He doesn't know
anything about you or us. He's trying to provoke me into an attack that's all.
He thinks if he makes me angry enough I'll charge and the containment spell
will have some unpleasant side effects for me."
"Wise decision, Derek," Deaton said gently and Derek inclined his head in
acknowledgement, watching Deaton set his bag down and get to work disarming the
spell.
"If you'll excuse us. I've done my part showing you the way," Derek told Deaton
who offered a nod though didn't really say goodbye. Derek turned back to
Stiles, ignoring Deucalion and tuning him completely out. "Let's go home, okay?
We can watch a movie or go to the library and read or whatever you want to do.
Does that sound okay?"
Stiles’ fists were clenched tightly, as was his jaw. He wanted to make
Deucalion hurt for what he said, if for nothing more than because it undermined
what he and Derek had. It was beyond Deucalion’s understanding, but that didn’t
stop Stiles from wanting to bash his head in. For a split second, he wished he
was strong enough to actually do some damage, but he wasn’t ready for what that
would entail and he probably never would be. Still, Deucalion’s words made him
vibrate with anger and he hated that. He hated how the man could get the exact
reaction he wanted out of Stiles. If given the chance, Stiles would let him
stay in that stupid little barrier forever.
Stiles gave Derek a sharp nod in response, not actually saying anything. He
wanted to let himself calm down a bit first. He didn’t want to snap at Derek
because he was angry with Deucalion. Stiles had already snapped once today and
once was quite enough in his opinion. He started walking back the way they had
come, not sure if he was going in the right direction but he trusted that Derek
would correct him if he wasn’t. Or maybe it would be better if he took a long
way back. It would give him a chance to relax and tire himself out a bit. After
a minute or two of silent walking, Stiles finally spoke.
“What movies do you have?” he asked, turning to look back at Derek. A movie
would be good. It would get his mind off things and it would allow him to just
relax with Derek and forget about Deucalion. Maybe they could make popcorn or
something. That would be nice. That was Stiles’ last thought before he went
tumbling down, a root having gotten caught on his foot. This is why he needed
to look where he was going. He flailed a bit as he went down and somehow
managed to turn his entire body over and fall on his back. Amazingly, it jarred
Stiles out of his terrible mood and he started to laugh.
“Leave it to me to fall over if I’m not looking at the ground for two seconds,”
he said with a breathless laugh.
Derek walked quietly with Stiles, letting him lead the way back and gently
guiding him in the right direction if he started to veer off track. He looked
up when Stiles asked which movies he had and was about to answer when Stiles
went sprawling onto the ground and Derek went after him immediately, kneeling
beside him to make sure he was okay. But Stiles was laughing and joking about
himself and Derek relaxed a little, cracking a semblance of a smile.
"Yea, you scared me, doofus," Derek said with a small shake of his head,
running a hand over Stiles' shoulder and then going to rest over his heart so
he could feel the strong steady thrum of it on Stiles' ribs. "Are you okay? Not
hurt or anything?" he asked just to make sure before he started to help Stiles
to his feet. "You didn't twist an ankle or anything?"
“I’m fine,” Stiles said, giving Derek’s hand a small squeeze before pushing it
away so that he could stand. He put weight on his foot gingerly, but seeing
that it was uninjured he stood normally. “Though just to be safe,” Stiles said
slowly, “You should probably carry me the rest of the way.” He punctuated his
sentence with taking a flying leap at Derek’s back, wrapping his legs around
the werewolf’s waist tightly and letting his arms hang loosely over Derek’s
shoulders so that he could give him a piggy back ride. Derek was right.
Deucalion knew nothing about them and everything he said was just to rile Derek
up. Not for the first time, Stiles found himself thanking whatever higher power
was up there that Derek had been the one with the higher bid that day. “I say
we watch something funny,” Stiles said, dragging himself out of his thoughts
and back into reality, “Then you’ll realize how truly genius my jokes are, as
they’re all funnier than anything the movie industry can come up with.”
Derek relaxed when Stiles assured him he was alright and Derek couldn't hear a
lie in his heartbeat. He still held out his hands as Stiles tested his weight
just on the off chance he'd hurt himself so he could catch Stiles if he needed
to. He stumbled slightly when Stiles hopped on his back, not having expected
it, but he righted himself and held onto Stiles, tilting his head back to look
at him with his brows slightly raised. He was glad Stiles seemed to have
relaxed a bit into a better mood. "Something funny it is then. I have a lot of
DVDs that my sisters have forced me into buying that I've not watched yet so
you can educate me," he responded with a little smile, hiking Stiles up a bit
further and then picking up his pace into a smooth jog that would get them to
the house quicker. "You know," Derek started when they came up onto the
backyard deck and set down Stiles. "After Kenna and Jacob get married, if you
ever wanted to travel somewhere we could. Wherever you want. I'd just have to
let work know I'd be MIA for a couple of weeks."
“Oh yeah, you have a job,” Stiles mused quietly, bouncing slightly as Derek
jogged, “I forgot about that. I mean, I haven’t seen you do any work. Like at
all. Are you sure you have a job?” He was joking, mostly, though it was true
that he had never seen Derek do anything resembling work. Of course, Stiles
hadn’t really been there long enough to comment but that was beside the point.
He thought quietly, remembering all the places he had sworn up and down that he
would visit someday, all the places he had read about or seen pictures of on
the internet. He had known all along that he would never really get the chance,
seeing as there had previously been no safe way for Stiles to travel more than
a mile or two, but now it was different. Now he had Derek and he suddenly had
all these opportunities in front of him. It was a little crazy to think about.
A week ago, Stiles had been in the forest, pitching a makeshift tent with his
dad in their new location. Now he was getting a piggyback ride from a werewolf
on their way to watch a DVD. Life was weird. “Traveling might be nice,” Stiles
murmured quietly, his head resting on Derek’s shoulder.
Derek chuckled softly and blushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yea, I
have been...putting some things off in light of recent goings on. But today is
Saturday so it can wait another day until Monday. The company won't crash and
burn in a day without me," he said, rubbing Stiles' back when Stiles leant into
him, happy to just stand there and feel the warmth of Stiles' body against his
own. He hummed softly, a song he'd used to hear Laura playing all the time on
her radio. "If- if or when we find your father...he could come too. If he
wanted to. Or he'd be more than welcome to stay here too of course. You
know...if you decided to let Deaton train you as an emissary, your father would
gain his freedom through you, because you're blood."
Stiles froze against Derek’s back, the words ‘father’ and ‘freedom’ bouncing
all around his head. He’d had no idea that anyone he was blood related to would
gain freedom as well from Stiles’ own newly gained status. Well, now it wasn’t
a question of if he started training to be an emissary, but when he started
training to be an emissary. Even if it was a lot of responsibility to take on,
and even if Stiles wasn’t sure if he was ready for it, he wasn’t going to be
selfish and take away what could be his father’s only chance at legitimate
freedom while still being human. “I have to find him,” Stiles said suddenly,
“I-I have to get to him, I need to tell him. I mean, it’s not going to be easy
to find him, after all they never really let anyone under eighteen take a peek
at the maps, but hey never underestimate me right? The last place we had
settled was somewhere in Pennsylvania if I remember correctly, smack dab in the
middle of the biggest forest we could find. Of course, I had sent off the
signal when I got captured so they’ve definitely moved by now, but it’s good to
have a starting point right? When we ran for it, we tended to run north,
because there were a lot more places to hide north, so I would wager that they
headed towards western New York or maybe one of the Great Lakes, the one all
the way to the right. I always forget which is which.” Stiles was babbling
desperately, unable to stop, unable to think about anything but getting his
father his freedom.
Derek supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by Stiles' rising heartbeat but
it did surprise him and for a moment he tensed, thinking irrationally that
Deucalion escaped and was coming towards them. It didn't seem to be the case
though because then Stiles was babbling on quickly about his father and finding
him and Pennsylvania and New York. Derek turned to him and rested hands on his
shoulders to steady him. "Stiles, breathe. Just take deep breaths okay? We
can't do anything right this moment. So we're going to go inside and watch a
funny movie. We're going to wait for my parents to tell us that they're leaving
and we're going to do this rationally and safely with as little risk of harm to
anyone. Okay? We can find and bring him here as soon as we can but you've got
to understand something. You don't get your freedom until you're fully trained
which means that your father doesn't get his until then either. He'll have to
stay in hiding here unless we go through channels and I get paperwork on him
and I really would rather not 'own'" he spit the word out like poison, "the
only family you have left. So he won't be able to be in public. He can go
between my own home and my parents' home but I don't want to take unnecessary
risks alright? I want to keep you safe above everything else. I'll call Eric,
Boyd, and Isaac tomorrow and we'll start doing some research, making plans. Can
you handle waiting until tomorrow? Please?"
Derek speaking shut him up, if only briefly. He was able to regulate his
breathing, but his heartbeat was still too high to be all that natural. He
would much rather his father be stuck in a gigantic warded mansion with indoor
plumbing and a constant supply of food and water than have him running around
in the woods, seconds away from getting killed or captured everyday. He wanted
to go now, right now and find him, but he knew that Derek was right. There was
nothing they could do about it currently and they certainly couldn’t go in
there blind. “I can wait,” he finally muttered, the words almost paining him to
say, “But you have to promise that I can go to find him. None of this leaving-
me-behind-for-my-own-good bullshit. He’s my father and there’s no way he’d go
with any of you unless he had a reason. And I need to start my training right
away.” Honestly, the thought of his father coming to stay with them was a
little nerve-wracking. What if he couldn’t understand what he and Derek had?
What if he wrote Stiles off as some kind of were-whore? What if he tried to
hurt Derek and take Stiles away? These were all worst-case scenarios, but they
were all technically within the realm of possibility. Still, Stiles hoped that
the promise of freedom would keep his father’s hatred of werewolves at bay.
Derek had known that if he went looking for Stiles' father there would be no
leaving Stiles behind to keep him safe. Stiles would insist on going and Derek
was sure that he would do the same in Stiles' position. He nodded and ran his
hands down Stiles' arms to his hands, squeezing Stiles' palms. "I promise,
Stiles, you'll be with us. Of course you will. But I have a couple of
conditions of my own. One of which is that we do it my way. I know you're
anxious to get him back. I understand that. But my first priority is you and
it'll always be you. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe," Derek
said seriously, meeting Stiles' gaze. "You're what I care about, Stiles. Just
you." He pulled Stiles in close to hug him, kissing the side of his head. "I
want to get him back for you. I want you to have everything," he murmured into
Stiles' hair. "But there's nothing we can do right now. We have to make the
proper arrangements and take the proper precautions. There's no way in hell I'm
taking you into a potentially dangerous situation without as many forms of
protection in place for you as I can manage."
Stiles was still very unused to the way that Derek saw him and the intensity
with which he cared. Stiles could feel his face growing hot where it was
pressed into Derek’s chest, color appearing high on his cheeks. He could
understand where Derek was coming from, but Stiles hadn’t always been the best
at following directions and he couldn’t promise that he would stick to whatever
plan they ended up making perfectly, especially not when he finally saw his
father. In all honesty, Derek and any other wolves that came with them were
probably in the most danger, walking into a human encampment with no violent
intentions. The humans had a small cache of weapons that they would use if
forced to. Stiles pulled back enough from the huge so that he could lean up and
kiss Derek softly. “I understand,” he murmured against the werewolf’s lips. Not
a lie. They should probably get back. It was going to get dark soon and Derek’s
family would no doubt be finishing up, but Stiles couldn’t really think about
that as he pressed forward for another kiss.
Derek kissed Stiles back easily, leaning into his body. He hummed his quiet
acknowledgment of Stiles' affirmation but all he could think about was Stiles'
mouth on his and that's all he wanted to think about. Everything else could
wait. Right there in that moment it was just the two of them. He wrapped Stiles
up tightly in his arms, holding him close and sighing into Stiles' mouth. He
licked inside when Stiles opened his mouth to him, deepening the kiss
significantly. Before he could get too carried away though he finally pulled
back enough to rest their foreheads together, breathing heavily. "Let's go
inside and get to those movies, hmm? We can do more of this on the couch if you
want," he murmured with a soft smile, hands cupping Stiles' jaw and his thumb
brushing over Stiles' lower lip gently. He was practically melting with
content, happy when he was in Stiles' arms.
Stiles hummed in what he assumed was agreement, letting his tongue flick out to
lick Derek’s thumb teasingly. A playful smile crossed his lips and mischief lit
up his eyes. He recognized where they were now, and it was really only a couple
hundred feet from the house. He weighed the options in his head for a moment,
knowing what it would do to Derek’s instincts if he went through with it. In
the end, Stiles couldn’t resist. “I’ll race you,” he said challengingly, and he
took off at a sprint towards the house moments later. He knew that the need to
chase him would drive Derek crazy and that’s exactly what he was going for. He
doubted he would make it back to the house before Derek caught up with him, but
Stiles still ran as fast as he could without looking back. He found this weird
grace when he was running, somehow managing to avoid the things that would trip
him up when he was walking. It had always comforted his father at least. The
trees were starting to thin out and his heart was racing with anticipation, a
breathless smile on his face.
Derek's eyes widened when Stiles challenged him to a race. He wanted to protest
because he wasn't sure if it was a good idea. He didn't know what it would do
to his instincts. But Stiles didn't wait for a response, taking off running at
full speed instead for the house. The wolf in him howled and he took off after
Stiles, recognizing the playfulness of the action instead of the mere need to
just chase and capture like he'd feared. He ran quickly and tried to let Stiles
get a head start but it was too much for his instincts and he caught up to
Stiles quickly. He tackled him but gently, making sure that when they went down
Stiles landed on top of him and wasn't harmed. He rolled Stiles into the grass
and laid over him, leaning in to lick playfully over Stiles' pulse point. "I
caught you," he purred out, a content rumble running through his chest. "Do I
get to keep you as my prize?"
It was no surprise when Derek finally tackled him, but Stiles took notice of
the gentleness of the action. He was touched, like he always was when Derek
went out of his way to think of him. Stiles chuckled when Derek went straight
for his throat, turning his head so that the werewolf could satisfy his
instincts easier. “You can’t keep what’s already yours,” Stiles murmured, a
smile playing on his lips, “But if you really need a prize, then maybe later I
can suck you off.” Honestly, he mostly just said that to see how Derek would
react, but it had been something that Stiles had been thinking about recently.
Or all the time. It was just kind of a permanent floating thought in the back
of his head, just wondering what it would be like and things like that. Now
that they had the green light to go, Stiles saw no reason for them to hold
back, especially while the house was empty. It wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Derek's throat went dry and he couldn't help the grumbling noise he made when
Stiles mentioned sucking him off. Stiles really shouldn't be allowed to say
things like that. One day he was going to kill Derek just with his words and it
wouldn't be pretty. He pressed his face into Stiles' neck and nipped at his
throat with blunt human teeth, trying to reign himself in. "Jesus fuck, Stiles.
You can't just say shit like that," he groaned after a moment, pulling back to
give him a look though it was obvious Derek wasn't actually upset. Stiles just
did things to him and it was insane honestly. "You know I don't- I mean sex
isn't- I don't need that from you, Stiles. I want it, please don't
misunderstand. I want you. But I don't need it to want to be with you. You know
that don't you? You're enough of a prize just how you are but you're not really
a prize. You're a person. The only person I want."
“Calm down,” Stiles grumbled, his face turning bright red, trying to ignore the
now familiar swell of embarrassment and affection that Derek’s words caused, “I
know you’re different, not like other werewolves, yada yada. If I say I want to
do something, then it’s because I want to do it, not because you caught me and
won a prize.” Stiles was quiet for a moment, remembering the way that Derek had
reacted when he first suggested it. He leaned up slowly until his lips were
just brushing Derek’s ear. “And I want,” he murmured slowly, “To feel your cock
in my mouth.” He could barely stop the shit-eating grin that was threatening to
break his face in half, though the thought was affecting him in the same way he
was sure it was affecting Derek. It was weird, having this sort of power over
someone, but at the same time it was equal because Derek had the same power
over Stiles.
Derek turned red at Stiles' last words and he didn't know quite what to say. He
definitely wanted that though. He wanted anything with Stiles. But before he
could find any words, there was a deliberate snapping of a twig nearby that had
Derek whipping his head up and Colby appeared with a dangerous smirk, hands in
his pockets. "My, my Derek, he sure knows what he wants doesn't he?" Colby
teased but it was all good naturedly, amusement and humor in his eyes. Derek
blushed even deeper and dropped his face to Stiles' neck, laughing a bit and
tightening his hold.
"You're one to talk, Colby. I've heard you on the phone with Dale before. He's
got a worse mouth on him," Derek responded, pushing himself up and bringing
Stiles with him. "You sure know how to ruin a mood."
"Always happy to help, little bro," Colby said with a wink and Derek rolled his
eyes.
"You're not even really my brother," he pointed out but Colby just waved him
off and grinned at Stiles' red face.
"Don't worry, kid. There's nothing you can say to Derek that my husband hasn't
said to me," he told Stiles in an attempt to reassure him and relieve some of
the embarrassment. "Keep Derek on his toes will you? He can be kind of a prude
sometimes."
It seemed like Stiles was dead-set on embarrassing himself for the rest of his
life. Despite both Derek and Colby’s words, his face flamed and he wanted to
smash his head against a tree. Instead, he chose to bury half of his face
against Derek’s shoulder, keeping just enough of him showing so as not to seem
rude. “I’ll be sure to do that,” Stiles croaked out in response, embarrassment
clear in his voice. Goddamn werewolves and their goddamn werewolf hearing and
their goddamn super quiet walking. Teddy emerged from the trees a few moments
later, Deaton trailing behind him. Stiles could only pray that they hadn’t
heard him as well.
“Don’t tease them Colby,” Teddy chastised lightly, a small smile on his face,
“By the looks of it, they both may explode if you say much more.”
“Oh, we’re all family here,” Colby said with a wave of his hand, smirk still
firmly in place, “They’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.” Stiles and his
blush begged to differ. God, he was never going to open his mouth again unless
there was no one within a five-mile radius. Screw that, they would all be lucky
if he ever spoke again.
“What happened with Deucalion?” Stiles blurted out in what had to be the
world’s worst subject change on the entire planet. Honestly, he could have said
anything else in the world to steer the conversation in a new direction, and he
picks the insane werewolf that’s out for Derek’s blood. Or his blood. Or both
of them. Either way, he was a crazy dude that needed to keep his distance.
Derek looked up at the sky as if he might receive heavenly help or something
but he just glanced over at Stiles with big eyes. "Do you think we could run
away and join a different family?" he asked though he was entirely joking. For
as much as they embarrassed him, Derek loved his family to death and he
wouldn't give them up for the world.
Derek sobered considerably at the mention of Deucalion again and looked to his
father for the answer, also curious considering Talia and Deucalion were the
only two missing. Deaton shook his head and raised a reassuring hand. "No need
to worry, boys. I simply needed to gather a few things from my car to
effectively lift the containment and temporarily incapacitate Mr. Deucalion so
he'll be unable to transform or venture far from Teddy here," he said gently
and Derek relaxed, glancing at his father who gave a small nod.
"Do you need us to do anything?" Derek asked though he hoped the answer would
be no and he wasn't disappointed.
"No, son. We can handle this. Just continue on with whatever it was you were
going to do," Teddy replied with a shake of his head, glancing at Stiles then
back to Derek. "Perhaps we shouldn't stop inside to say goodbye?"
"Jesus, dad. We're not gonna- not now- I- yes you can stop by. We're going to
watch a movie," Derek protested, flaming bright red once again, flush going
into his ears and all down his neck under his t-shirt.
“Good lord,” Stiles groaned, hiding his face the rest of the way, “Just let me
smother myself to death.” He shoved his face into the fabric of Derek’s shirt,
though he didn’t actually stop breathing so technically he wasn’t trying all
that hard. Colby and Teddy just laughed, shaking their heads a bit as they
waited for Deaton to return with his things. The emissary was back moments
later and the three set off again with quick waves towards Derek and the still
hiding Stiles. Stiles listened to the footsteps as they walked away, waiting
until he couldn’t hear them anymore even though they were probably still within
werewolf earshot.
“I’m never going to try to be sexy every again, I swear to god,” he mumbled
into Derek’s shirt, still refusing to lift his face, “Really. I’m just going to
become a monk and literally be the least sexy thing possible on the universe.
I’ll wear the robes and everything, even shave my head. Oh did you want sexy
Stiles? Sorry, he doesn’t exist anymore. It’s only monk Stiles.” He still kind
of wanted to know what exactly they were going to be doing with Deucalion, but
he was sure that it would make Derek more comfortable if they just went in the
house to put on some random movie. Stiles was tempted to make them sit at
opposite ends of the couch. Hell, maybe one of them would have to get a
separate chair. He was not trying to get caught in anymore embarrassing
situations by Derek’s family. Though, if he was being completely honest with
himself, he had a feeling that staying with Derek would involve a lot of
embarrassing situations with the family. Werewolves knew way too much about
each other and now that would be the cause of Stiles’ death. Death by blushing.
Definitely not an awesome way to go. Rather pathetic, in fact.
Derek held onto Stiles, still blushing though now also smiling at Stiles'
embarrassment because it was rather cute to him. Stiles was just incredible. He
was beyond glad that the universe had decided that he and Stiles were a good
match because he wouldn't want anyone else. He waited until his family were out
of shot and Stiles had stopped babbling before gently coaxing Stiles out of his
shirt to look at him with a small smile. "First of all, you'll never not be
sexy. I'm just going to put that out there because it needs to be said. Second
of all, you don't have to be a monk but I am sorry about them. They're- well
there just isn't a lot of secrecy in my family and they choose to tease and
make jokes instead of letting things be awkward and not saying anything. Does
that make sense?"
“Yeah, it makes sense, but it’s not going to make my capillaries stop opening
the floodgates all at once every time they do,” Stiles said with a rueful
smile, cursing his overactive bodily response. It was so different from the way
he and his father were with each other. They couldn’t even say the word ‘sex’
without stammering and getting all weird and cough-y and pretend-manly. Despite
the extreme embarrassment, Stiles still meant what he had said. That was
definitely something he was looking forward to trying at some point. Maybe some
point today. Stiles leaned up and pressed his lips to Derek’s. He still got
that special surge of energy between them whenever they kissed and he couldn’t
help but want to feel it more and more. He didn’t make it a long kiss. No, the
lingering thought of Derek’s family nearby kept him from doing that. “Let’s
actually go watch that movie,” he said with a small chuckle, “Or they’re going
to think I’m just some horny teenager that only wants you for your body.”
"If it makes you feel any better, I like it when you blush," Derek offered,
touching his fingers to Stiles' cheeks with tender affection. He got his arms
around Stiles' shoulders when he was kissed, responding with earnest enthusiasm
and making a noise of protest when Stiles pulled away. "Well we wouldn't want
that would we?" he responded with a little smile, leaning in to steal one more
kiss just because he was allowed to do that now. He kept Stiles close as they
headed for the house again, relaxing a bit since he knew now Deucalion was
taken care of and he could have Stiles to himself for a while. He opened the
door and let Stiles go first before stepping inside as well, glancing out he
door briefly just to make sure everything was well before locking up. His
parents could come in through the front to say goodbye. "Movies are over here,"
he said, leading the way to the living room where the entertainment system that
he hadn't really used that much was set up. Kenna was the one who used it the
most. He opened up a door on the large set up to reveal the massive amount of
DVDs there, organized into alphabetical order because Kenna liked to be able to
find things easily. "Pick whatever you like. Should I make popcorn or
something?"
Hearing that Derek liked his blush only made Stiles want to blush more.
Compliments weren't something he was accustomed to. Still, he tried to ignore
his embarrassment because this was something that would apparently need to get
used to. He noticed the way that Derek locked the door when they went inside
and he smiled to himself. It was kind of cute, how much Derek worried about
him. He let the werewolf lead him over to the movies, his jaw dropping when he
saw how many there were. This was insane. He was going to have to watch every
single one at some point, you know in between training to become an emissary,
finding his father, and everything that was Derek. "Yeah, popcorn sounds
great," Stiles said, shooting Derek a quick smile before returning his
attention to the vast collection in front of him. He rapidly surmised that is
was in alphabetical order and tutted in disapproval. Movies should obviously be
organized by genre and then by name. Still, he went through the selection,
plucking out the ones that sounded interesting and reading more about them
before deciding if they were a worthy contender. It wasn't until the very end
that Stiles spied one of his all time favorites. Admittedly, he had never seen
the movie since he had been too young to watch it before they went into hiding,
but he had stumbled upon it during one of his few Internet escapades. Stiles
put all the other movies back. They were totally going to watch Zombieland.
"Okay, I'll go put some popcorn in the microwave," Derek said with a smile,
letting Stiles wander over to the movies. He watched him for a moment before
turning to go into the kitchen. He dug through the pantry for the box of
popcorn, pulling out one of the packages. He went through the motions of
unwrapping it and putting it in the microwave. He puttered around a bit for
something to do, grabbing down a bowl from the cupboard and when the microwave
beeped he dumped the hot popcorn into it, shaking it around and inhaling the
delicious scent of butter and... popcorn. He popped his head back into the
living room and smiled at Stiles. "Do you want anything to drink with the
popcorn? Soda? Water? Lemonade?"
"Soda!" Stiles called back without looking. He'd had plenty of water in his
lifetime and even some poor attempts at lemonade, but soda was his absolute
favorite and he'd only had it about five times. Stiles poked and prodded at the
DVD player, trying to make it work. He had read instruction manuals for them
before. He would read anything he could get his hands on. However, it had been
a while. The power button was obvious, as that symbol was universal for
basically every electronic device. Finally, he got the little drawer to pop out
and he slid the disc in before closing it up again, standing to turn the
television on. "Hurry up!" he called excitedly to Derek, the thought to go and
give him a hand not entering his mind. Part of him was afraid that this was
some kind of coma-induced dream and that he would wake up and there would be no
Derek. The thought made him cringe and he shook it out of his head. This was
real. The auction, Derek, the soul bond, all of it was real and once Stiles had
his father he could really believe that.
Derek chuckled fondly, calling back to let Stiles know he was coming before
going over to the fridge. He pulled out two cold cans of Dr. Pepper and then
gathered up the bowl of popcorn into his arm before heading back into the
living room. He set it all down on the coffee table and then sat down on the
plush suede couch, leaning back into the cushions and motioning for Stiles to
join him. "How do you feel about cats?" Derek asked curiously, taking a handful
of popcorn to eat. "Or dogs. Pets in general. Laura keeps telling me I need a
pet. I think I would rather have something small like a cat though. What do you
think?" He had been thinking about it even before Stiles had come to live with
him in the first place and then put it out of his mind but now he wondered if
Stiles might want a pet. He seemed to have missed out on a lot considering the
oppression humans were going through and he didn't blame Stiles or the others
that he had teamed with for going into hiding and running even if it did make
them fugitives. It was probably better than being forced into slavery and
prostitution. No, it had to be better than being forced into slavery and
prostitution. Derek wanted to howl and growl just at the thought of anyone
touching Stiles without his permission.
Stiles skipped all the previews and hit play when the menu screen came up
before going to settle into the couch with Derek. He reached for one of the
cans of soda and popped it open, taking a long sip, relishing in the taste. He
pondered Derek's question for a moment, placing his soda back on the coffee
table and wiggling into place against Derek's side. "I've never had a pet
before," he admitted slowly, something that was probably obvious given his
situation, "Well I sort of kept a baby squirrel once, but he ran away. Another
time, Scott and I tried to keep a toad that we found, but it was a bad time for
the camp and we ended up having to eat him. Some of the adults stole a chicken
once and Scott and I took care of that too but they were just waiting for it to
get fat before killing it. Having a pet that doesn't double as a meal might be
nice." He gave Derek a little nudge and a smile to show that he was joking
around. He understood that the way he grew up was very unorthodox but he didn't
regret it or feel bitter about it. He had his family and he had fond memories.
That was all he could really ask for. He leaned his head against Derek. "A cat
would be nice," Stiles said softly, half distracted by the movie, "Especially
if Kenna is going to run off and get married and you're going to be a working
man. I'll need someone to keep me company." Stiles would probably tear through
all the movies and all the books in the library within the first three weeks of
being left alone during the day. Having a pet to play around with and take care
of would be good for him. Even if he decided to get some kind of formal online
education, he doubted it would distract him for that long.
"You're so weird," Derek said with a chuckle but it wasn't mean or
condescending. He wasn't trying to put down the way Stiles had lived and grown
up. He just thought it was strange but he liked it, liked Stiles for it a lot.
He nudged the hand he had on Stiles' hip a bit up until it slipped under his
shirt and onto soft skin, rubbing in gentle circles. "And also, I work from the
house most of the time. Just by the way. I go into the office three times a
week or so and you're always welcome to come along if you don't want to stay
home by yourself. Or you could spend time with Erica or Boyd or Isaac. I'm sure
Scott would make the trip down if you wanted him to. But we can go to the
shelter tomorrow if you want and see. I don't go into the office until
Tuesday."
Even the casual touch that Derek was giving him now made Stiles' skin tingle
and his heart beat just the slightest bit faster. He just couldn't help the way
he reacted around Derek and he shifted without fully realizing to give Derek
more room. Stiles watched the movie in silence for a few moments as he thought.
Would a cat be immune to Derek's alpha-ness because it was a different species
or was werewolf superiority like an all-encompassing sort of thing? He supposed
he could just ask, but finding out sounded like more fun. "We can go to the
shelter tomorrow," Stiles allowed, "But we also have to do something regarding
my dad. I want to find him as soon as possible." He could understand Derek's
wariness about the situation and his desire to proceed carefully but Stiles was
a teenager. He was impulsive and he wanted results now. It was going to take a
lot for him to be patient with this. He turned his head just enough to place a
kiss at the edge of Derek's jaw before turning his attention back to the movie.
Things were starting to get interesting and the whole inner monologue was
hilarious.
Derek ate some more popcorn, chewing it as quietly as he could as he listened
to the movie and to Stiles' heart beat which had quickened when he put his hand
on Stiles' skin which made him smile a little. He loved all the physiological
responses that Stiles had to him that Derek's body then automatically responded
to as well, like it wasn't just their souls they shared but their bodies too
almost. He glanced over at Stiles again and nodded, tightening the arm he had
around him. "We'll go to the shelter in the morning and I'll call the betas
over in the afternoon. Erica gets off shift at the hospital at four," he
answered honestly, leaning over to press a tender kiss to Stiles' temple.
"We'll get him back. I promise I'll get him back for you," he whispered
quietly.
Stiles was a little taken aback by how firmly Derek seemed to believe that he
would find Stiles’ father. Or maybe that wasn’t the right way to phrase it. He
was determined to find Stiles’ father. He burrowed further into Derek’s side,
nearly crawling on top of him but not quite. He didn’t really care how they
looked because it made him happy. They sat in silence, watching the movie
together as they munched on popcorn and, Stiles felt weird about saying it,
but, snuggling. He was feeling a little groggy, but he didn’t want to fall
asleep. They had slept plenty that day. He could tell the movie was probably
almost done anyway with about twenty minutes left. He could predict what was
going to happen but he was still a little excited to see how they executed it.
However, that excitement didn’t stop Stiles from leaning up and kissing the
underside of Derek’s jaw. He trailed up slowly until he finally found Derek’s
lips. He kissed the older man softly and was just beginning to move to crawl
into his lap when he heard the front door open. Stiles launched himself away
from Derek with such force that he was sprawled halfway across the couch by the
time Derek’s family came in, the picture of false nonchalance.
Derek wasn't paying too much attention to the movie, more focused on the way
Stiles' skin felt against his palm and the pad of his thumb as he rubbed in
absent soothing circles and Stiles' heart calmed eventually. When Stiles turned
in his embrace to kiss at his jaw, Derek let his eyes close and he leaned into
it openly. He returned the kisses he was given, moving his lips against Stiles
eagerly and sliding fingers up into his hair. He reached to help Stiles into
his embrace but then the door was opening and Stiles was wrenching away from
him like he'd been burned, leaving Derek to almost fall on his face against the
couch Stiles had just been occupying. His parents and Colby filed in without
Deaton and Talia smiled at the two knowingly, like she was privy to exactly
what had gone down.
"We just wanted to say our goodbyes, boys. Deucalion is unconscious and
slightly worse for wear at the moment. We'll take care of this okay?" She said
after a moment of enjoying their awkwardness.
"Thanks, mom," Derek hummed, getting to his feet and moving into his mothers
opened arms. He hugged her tightly, she much smaller than he was so her head
tucked nearly beneath his chin and his arms enfolded her easily. He looked like
he was holding onto a lifeline, someone who had just saved him from some
terrible fate.
Stiles felt bad for pulling away from Derek so abruptly, but he had already
embarrassed himself plenty in front of Derek’s family. Especially Colby.
Stiles’ face colored as they made eye contact and the other man smirked
playfully as though he knew exactly what was happening. Of course, he probably
did. They all probably did and that thought made Stiles burn with
embarrassment, a sheepish smile on his face as he looked at them. He stood up
slowly while Derek hugged his mother, coming to stand awkwardly behind but to
the side of where they stood.
“Thanks,” he said a bit awkwardly, “For everything.” Colby smiled widely at him
and pulled the embarrassed boy into a quick, tight hug. Derek’s father followed
soon after and Stiles was a little surprised by the easy acceptance and
affection, but then again, he didn’t know why they wouldn’t either. They were
all a very open and loving family. There was no reason that they wouldn’t
accept Stiles into the folds of their family, especially if he made Derek as
happy as he seemed to.
“We’re always there for family,” Talia said softly, moving to hug Stiles
tightly. Even though there was no way that the other werewolves in the room
couldn’t hear, Stiles had a feeling that she lowered her voice for his benefit
when she spoke again. “Always remember that you two are made for each other,”
she whispered gently, “He can be prickly, but he’ll always love you.” Stiles’
face was bright red when she pulled away, his mouth opening and closing like a
fish as he struggled for something to say. Derek’s family was going to take
some getting used to.
Derek blushed lightly at his mother’s words to Stiles but when Stiles looked at
him he just gave a small nod to agree to her words so he would know. Talia
pulled back and rested a hand on the side of his jaw, cupping it like a mother
would and then leaning in to press a warm kiss to Stiles' forehead, pulling
back to smile at him gently as she squeezed his arm. Teddy opened his arm for
her and she stepped against his side easily, everyone bidding goodbye.
Derek was finished hugging his family and he moved back to Stiles' side
quickly, wrapping an arm around his waist and waving goodbye to the cars. When
they were gone Derek led the way back inside and closed the door, looking over
at Stiles.
"What would you like to do now?" he asked with a smile, turning so he and
Stiles were facing each other. "We could continue what you started on the
couch?"
Stiles didn’t know how to react when Talia bid him goodbye in the way that she
did, so he just didn’t. Not really. He gave them all a small smile and a wave
and then they were out the door and it was just him and Derek again. That he
could do. That was easy. He smiled easily when Derek spoke, a light blush still
lingering on his face. He was silent for another moment, until his human ears
picked up the sound of the engine turning over and tires crunching over gravel
as Derek’s family drove away.
“I would love to continue what we were doing on the couch,” Stiles said,
somehow managing to make his voice sound low and smooth and actually kind of
sexy, “After all, I still need to suck your brains out through your cock.” That
was a tall order to make, especially since Stiles hadn’t actually sucked
anyone’s dick before. He had read descriptions and even heard a few stories,
but he’d never done it himself. He was just going to have to hope that
enthusiasm would make up for how inexperienced he was.
Stiles smashed their lips together without another word, jumping up to wrap his
legs around Derek’s waist, knowing that the werewolf would have the reflexes to
catch and support him. Somewhere in the back of his mind was reminding him that
they had just traded handjobs that morning, but Stiles didn’t really care.
Maybe it was what happened with Deucalion, or maybe it was instincts or the
soul bond, but Stiles just really wanted to be close to Derek.
Derek groaned when Stiles talked about sucking his brains out through his dick
and he had no doubts in his mind at all that Stiles couldn't do exactly that.
Derek was pretty sure Stiles would break him into pieces and then put him back
together meticulously, replacing a few pieces of Derek with a few of himself.
It was like every time they were together the bond grew stronger and more
concrete, Stiles stole another piece of Derek's heart and filled it in with a
piece of his own so Derek was always whole and completed. It terrified him and
thrilled him at the same time.
He caught Stiles easily when Stiles jumped up and he pushed him up against the
nearest wall, attacking his lips with vigor and excitement. He was unable to
quell the hunger inside of him that he had for Stiles and he just wanted to
touch and touch and take and give and touch. He kissed Stiles like he was
trying to find the piece of Stiles' soul that he still didn't have and
desperately wanted. He wanted Stiles to be his forever.
He pulled them away from the wall and stumbled back to the living room,
carefully leaning so Stiles was laying on the couch and Derek could lay over
him between his legs. They were both hard in their pants, trapped beneath
layers of fabric. Derek couldn't help the hungry noise he made or the way he
rolled his hips against Stiles' to get some much-needed friction.
A loud moan tumbled from Stiles’ lips without his permission when Derek grinded
down against him. Stiles pushed up, just as eager as the man above him to get
some contact. He momentarily forgot his original goal as he worked up a rhythm,
his hands anchored in Derek’s hair from where his arms were draped over the
man’s shoulders. They kissed sloppily, Stiles interspersing with small gasps
and strangled moans. His mind was fogged over with just Derek, Derek, Derek,
and for a while there was no real thinking, just movement. It took Stiles a
good few minutes to remember why they had started doing this.
“Wait,” Stiles panted, pushing against Derek’s chest. He knew that though he
couldn’t actually move the werewolf, Derek would move back when he felt
resistance. Before a look of worry or concern to flash across the man’s face,
Stiles smiled breathlessly. “I’m supposed to be sucking your dick,” he
breathed, pushing Derek back even more until he was sitting up, leaning against
the back of the couch. Stiles pressed a chaste kiss against Derek’s lips before
he began trailing them down the werewolf’s neck, shoving his shirt up to kiss
at his chest and abdomen. Eventually, he was at the waistband of Derek’s pants
where he licked teasingly at the skin before moving to remove them, along with
his boxers.
Derek pressed Stiles back into the cushions and licked his way into his mouth,
hands roaming Stiles' body eagerly. He felt Stiles pushing at him and he made a
noise of disapproval, stealing another long second before allowing himself to
be pushed away. He didn't want to force Stiles into anything, thought at first
that maybe Stiles changed his mind and wanted to slow down a little bit which
would be fine with him. Derek wouldn't push for anything Stiles wasn't ready
for. He wasn't even sure he was ready for too much. When Stiles mentioned
sucking Derek's dick again though, Derek was done and he let Stiles push him
upright, body pliant under the younger man's hands. Stiles pushed at his shirt
and Derek leaned forward a little bit to pull it off completely, now bare from
the waist up. Soon enough he was completely naked though because Stiles wasted
no time in pulling his boxers down with his shorts.
"W-wait I- you too, clothes," Derek stuttered, reaching for Stiles again before
Stiles could do anything but look. He wanted Stiles to be naked too before he
did anything so that when it was Derek's turn to finish Stiles off there
wouldn't be any impediments to slow him down. He pulled Stiles' shirt up over
his head and took a moment to just run his hands over smooth mole dotted skin
that he was becoming obsessed with the feel of. Then his hands moved down to
the sweat pants Stiles had put on and pushed at them until they fell past his
hips and Stiles was just as naked as Derek was. Derek sighed almost longingly
and pressed his thumbs into the shallow dips of Stiles' hips before he looked
back at him with huge lust filled eyes. "Okay, you can- whatever you want,
Stiles."
Once they were both naked, Stiles stopped for a moment to just admire the sight
in front of him. Derek really was unfairly gorgeous. Like Stiles would make a
killing if he stole Derek’s sperm and sold it on the black market. Who wouldn’t
want to have babies with that face? Stiles could feel himself losing control of
his train of thought, so he shook his head a little bit to refocus himself.
Derek. Sex. Dick. This was happening. Stiles leaned up again to kiss at Derek’s
neck, slowly trailing down as he wrapped a cautious hand around the older man’s
cock. He gave a few gentle tugs as he kissed his way down Derek’s body, trying
to work himself up to the actual act of sucking the dick. It’s not that Stiles
didn’t want to do it, it was just that he wasn’t really sure how. A bunch of
techniques and tips were running through his brain, but by the time he was
kissing along Derek’s happy trail, they all just vanished.
Stiles took a deep breath before looking up and locking eyes with Derek. He
flushed slightly, a hint of a smile on his lips before he leaned forward and
licked Derek’s cock from the base to the tip. Might as well just jump right in.
He didn’t really give Derek any time to react before he wrapped his lips around
the head, sucking lightly as he sort of explored it with his tongue. Moments
later, Stiles made sure to be aware of his teeth as he slid down as far as he
could, using his hand on whatever he couldn’t fit in his mouth as he bobbed
between Derek’s legs, slow and exploratory, just getting used to the sensation.
Derek bared his neck to Stiles, an action that he should have avoided at all
costs as an alpha but had no second thoughts about with Stiles, and gasped
quietly when he felt a hand wrap around him. Stiles was going to tear him apart
with his mouth, Derek was sure of it. He ran his hands over whatever skin of
Stiles' he could reach as Stiles moved lower and lower. He was going to go
crazy any moment now but then Stiles was looking up at him with huge doe eyes
as he licked at Derek's cock and Derek was certain that he wouldn't last long.
It had been a long time since he'd been with anyone else and also this time it
really meant something, it was important. He made a strangled sound in his
throat when Stiles wrapped his lips around him and Derek buried his fingers in
Stiles' hair just for something to hold onto, not pushing or anything.
"Fuck, Stiles," he groaned out, head falling back on the cushions for a moment
to breathe through his nose and calm himself so he wouldn't come right then and
there. "This- this is going to be disappointingly fast just so you know."
Stiles wanted to chuckle but he knew that this wasn’t the time. Nothing could
possibly be disappointing with Derek. Whether it lasted five hours or five
seconds, Stiles would take any time he could get with Derek’s skin against his
own. Orgasms were also a good reward, which Stiles should be focusing on now.
He worked his tongue against Derek’s cock as he bobbed his head. He had no real
idea of what he was doing and could only go off of what responses Derek was
giving him.
Though Stiles was pretty damn absorbed in what he was doing, part of his mind
couldn’t help but wander. It didn’t really wander far of course, but he
couldn’t help but think about what he and Derek had talked about earlier, with
scent. How the more they had sex, the more everyone would know that Stiles was
Derek’s and that Derek was Stiles’. Once they finally had actual sex, no one
would even think that they could get between them. Stiles found that he wanted
that more than anything. He contemplated going back to that hardware store
where the employee had given him his number just so he could rub it in the
guy’s face.
Stiles moved his hand to cover whatever his mouth wasn’t reaching. He didn’t
want to embarrass himself by choking during his first blowjob. He slid up
Derek’s cock, using his tongue and lips to play special attention to the
sensitive head. He looked up at Derek, watching his reactions. He really was
gorgeous.
The combination of Stiles' hand and his mouth was deadly. Derek knew he
wouldn't last long but he held himself back as best as he could, trying to
think of other things but all he could think about was Stiles. So he tried to
think about not necessarily sexy things about Stiles. He thought about how
stupidly glad he was that he'd made that impulse decision at the auction house.
He was glad that whatever powers that be decided that he was good enough to
have a soul mate like Stiles. He was thrilled that somehow through some weird
genetic thing, Stiles had gotten the spark of power that would allow him to
become an emissary and gain his freedom and freedom for his father too. Derek
just thought Stiles was so amazing.
And thinking about Stiles being amazing brought him back to thinking about the
way Stiles' tongue was moving over the sensitive vein that ran along the
underside of his cock up to the head where it was even more sensitive. Derek
couldn't get over how amazing it felt. Stiles didn't have much technique but he
had enthusiasm on his side and really that seemed to be enough for Derek's dick
because he was so damn close to coming. He tilted his head down to stare at
Stiles, the way his red lips looked wrapped around Derek's dick, rough hand
working the base, lashes long like dark coal smudges on his cheeks, hair messy
from where Derek had run his fingers through it so many times.
"Fuck, I'm- close, Stiles, 'm close," he gasped out, hips twitching up just
slightly before he could catch himself, trying to hold back so he wouldn't
choke Stiles. They could try that another time when it wasn't Stiles' first
time sucking dick.
Stiles felt the small twitch in Derek’s hips, though he had luckily already
moved up to the head so it didn’t push anything further than he could handle.
That would be an interesting thing to try someday, after he got a little more
practice of course. Stiles nearly moaned as he realized just how much control
Derek had to be holding over himself in order to let Stiles experiment like
this. Leading off that train of thought, Stiles had to make a decision. Derek,
in his beautifully wrecked voice, had said that he was close. Stiles didn’t
know if it would be better to just continue and try to swallow, or save that
for another time as well. After a few more moments, Stiles pulled off with a
dirty sounding pop, his tongue giving the head of Derek’s cock one last little
flick. They had all the time in the world to try new things and there was no
reason to rush it.
Stiles continued to work Derek with his hand, now using it to go over the
entire length of his cock. He looked straight up at Derek’s face, wanting to
take in everything. It was amazing how he could have this effect on someone.
Derek was amazing. Stiles didn’t even want to think about what would have
happened to him if Derek hadn’t gone for it that day at the auction house.
Stiles moved his hand a little faster, changing the angle slightly as he
managed to climb back onto the couch next to Derek without losing stride.
“Come on, Derek,” Stiles whispered suddenly in Derek’s ear, his voice a little
hoarse, “Come for me. I wanna see you come.” He had no idea where that side of
him had come from, a side that was apparently comfortable with demanding things
from an alpha werewolf. Still, nothing he had said wasn’t what he truly wanted,
so he couldn’t fault himself for saying them.
Derek wanted to whine at the loss of Stiles' mouth but Stiles' hand was rough
with calluses and perfect on the sensitive skin of his cock. He groaned
instead, loud and pleasured and happy. He had no qualms about fucking up into
Stiles' hand this time, pushing his hips up insistently and making soft noises
in the back of his throat. When Stiles crawled up beside him, Derek wrapped an
arm around him to pull him close and he made a strangled noise when Stiles
demanded him to come. The sound of Stiles' voice was enough to push him over
the edge and it only took two more strokes of his hand before Derek was coming,
spilling out onto his own belly and Stiles' hand, Stiles' name coming as a cry
from Derek's lips over and over again. His vision went out and his eyes
fluttered shut and all he could think was Stiles Stiles Stiles Stiles. When the
shocks of his orgasm subsided, Derek went boneless, relaxing against the couch
and against Stiles and really not wanting to move at all except maybe to bring
Stiles closer. He nuzzled at the younger man's neck, at his collarbones and the
hollow of his throat, mixing their scents together to his liking and rumbling
low and happy deep in his chest.
Watching Derek come from Stiles’ hand was a pretty surreal experience, almost
heady. It was insane. He could feel the way that Derek went boneless and
relaxed against him, completely willing to put his safety in Stiles’ hands.
Stiles was sure to pull his hand away from Derek’s cock before he became too
sensitive. Stiles wanted to chuckle at the way that Derek immediately cuddled
up against him, rubbing against his neck, just like a real dog would. He knew
it was for scenting purposes, so he let Derek go at it despite his own need for
release. This was about Derek and Stiles could wait. He got as close as he
could to the older man, tipping his head back to allow easy access to his neck.
He could practically feel Derek vibrating against him, the low rumble a
constant sound coming from the man’s chest. His hand was getting a bit sticky
and he knew that Derek’s torso had to be as well, but he could see that moving
was not high on either of their To Do lists. Stiles shifted closer again and
accidentally slid his cock against Derek’s thigh, a surprised moan tumbling
from his lips. “I-I’m sorry,” Stiles stuttered, “But, can I just…” He trailed
off, unable to finish his own sentence as he began to move his hips, thrusting
against Derek’s thigh gently. Moans fell from his lips as he moved, hands
coming up to secure themselves on Derek’s shoulders as his eyes squeezed shut.
"D-don't apologize," Derek assured him, pressing closer to Stiles so he could
find a rhythm for himself. Derek couldn't help but look down at where Stiles
was rubbing himself off against Derek's thigh, his hip. It was amazing,
thinking that Stiles would be able to come just from that. He wanted to help,
wanted his hands and mouth all over Stiles. But he felt too boneless and brain
dead to do anything except watch. It was probably the hottest thing he'd ever
seen in his life. "Next time it's my turn," he decided with a nod, watching the
flushed and dripping head of Stiles' cock disappear and reappear with each
thrust of his hips. "I'm sorry. I want to help but I'm pretty sure you ruined
my brain for a good several hours at least."
“I’m glad,” Stiles managed to gasp out, biting his lip immediately after as a
high-pitched moan followed his words. It was an embarrassing noise, and there
was no way he would admit to it later. The movements of his hips were getting
faster and more erratic as he chased release. He was a teenage boy after all.
It wasn’t going to take much. A little time and friction, and he was done for.
Stiles pressed down a little harder, crying out in pleasure at the sensation.
Moments later, he came with a shout of Derek’s name, nails digging into the
man’s shoulder. If he was human, they would leave marks for days. In the small
part of his brain that wasn’t fuzzy from his post-orgasm high, Stiles was a
little embarrassed that he had just come from rubbing himself off on Derek.
However, most of Stiles’ brain was just happy that he had come at all. He
slumped down against Derek, similarly boneless and sated.
Derek loved the sounds Stiles made as he came and he watched Stiles' face, eyes
wide and affectionate. This was more than just sex, it was something so much
more and so much better and scary at the same time. But Derek wouldn't trade
it. He'd not even really touched Stiles, not with his hands at least. Just his
thigh was enough to get Stiles off and that was a heady realization. He shifted
them both over so they were lying on their sides on the sofa, mess between them
and scent hitting Derek's nose like a bouquet of flowers but better. He loved
the way they smelt more like each other now than they smelt like themselves
individually. He wasn't sure what he'd do once they'd actually gotten around to
the penetrative part, once Stiles was his completely and he was Stiles'. But
right then he buried his nose in Stiles' neck and nuzzle in, pressing up
against him as tightly as possible. "Sorry. I'll help next time, I promise," he
mumbled a little sheepishly, feeling bad for not providing more help after
Stiles practically sucked his brains out through his dick.
“The fact that I wiped you out so completely is actually really flattering,”
Stiles said with a tired chuckle, eyes closed. He shifted his head enough so
that Derek would have plenty of room to scent or whatever he needed to do.
Stiles kind of wondered what he smelled like now. They had done it twice, and
both times they had ended up sitting for a bit and Stiles had a feeling that
made the scent sink in even more. Derek was admittedly gentle about it, but
Stiles could almost sense the possessiveness. He wondered if that was a
werewolf thing or a soul mate thing. He knew that real wolves mated for life,
so it could very well be an instinct that was carried over. He wanted to ask,
but he was too tired. He would much rather just take a second nap for that day,
eat dinner eventually, and then go to sleep. They had a long day ahead of them
tomorrow, what with trying to find Stiles’ dad and possibly getting a cat.
Plus, if Stiles remembered correctly, then Derek had to go into work tomorrow.
That was going to be a bit lonely. Derek had extended the invitation for Stiles
to go with him, but he wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate.
Derek smiled against Stiles' neck and tightened his arm around him, shifting
again so Stiles was on his back and Derek was curled up into his side. He had
his head on Stiles' chest by his neck, arms curled around him and eyes
fluttering shut. He didn't want to get up or move for any reason. Not before he
got a nap. It would give time for their scents to really mingle together. Derek
pressed a kiss over Stiles' heart, the closest he could get to saying I love
you without saying it aloud. He was scared of chasing Stiles away if he came on
too strong or something. "Our hearts match," he hummed quietly, noticing how
his and Stiles' hearts were beating at the same pace and rhythm along with each
other's. He pressed a hand over the left side of Stiles' heart, listening and
feeling at the same time.
Stiles hummed tiredly in response, a smile resting on his lips. He vaguely
wished that he could hear them too, but he supposed he would have to get along
without that little ability. He picked his hand up after a moment and reached
blindly behind Derek’s head, slapping against the back of the couch until his
hand hit the blanket that was thrown over the back. He tugged it down over
them, doing just enough to cover their groins before placing his hand on top of
Derek’s. “In case family,” was all he murmured as ways of an explanation,
curling into Derek without really noticing. He was glad he remembered to do
something though. Just because Derek’s family knew that they were having sexy
time didn’t mean that Stiles wanted them to see everything if they made some
kind of surprise visit. Plus, they didn’t know when Kenna was due back, which
had to be eventually to get her things and stuff. For now, that didn’t matter.
All that mattered was Derek and being close to him as their hearts beat as one.
Derek smiled a little but he pulled the blankets up to their ribs and tightened
his arms back around Stiles again. He pressed a kiss against Stiles' neck and
closed his eyes, breathing deeply. It didn't take long for the rhythm of
Stiles' heart to calm Derek down significantly and his last act before falling
asleep was to turn his hand over under Stiles' to lace their fingers. The
darkness of unconsciousness fell over him easily and just like the last two
times he'd fallen asleep with Stiles, he slept peacefully and with a feeling of
safety that he hadn't experienced with anyone else before. If he were awake he
may have wondered if that was from the bond or just from Stiles but for now he
dreamt of having a good life with Stiles and that was enough.
***** Chapter 10 *****
Stiles woke up because he was hungry, pure and simple. His stomach rumbled and
growled, begging for attention from a sleeping Stiles. He woke up tangled
around Derek, naked, with a sticky mess between them. He grimaced a bit at
that, but managed to peel himself away without waking the werewolf. He went
into the kitchen and cleaned himself up with a few wet paper towels before
going out to do the same to a sleeping Derek. Stiles pulled on his boxer briefs
and Derek’s shirt that he had borrowed before padding back into the kitchen.
After a thorough search of all drawers and cabinets, he decided he would make
some chicken for him and Derek. He had cooked chicken a few times before, and
there were spices that he recognized the names of in the kitchen. It would be
simple, yes, but Derek had cooked everything else for him so far and Stiles
wanted to return the favor.
Derek didn't wake until the scent of chicken and spices and olive oil reached
his nose, something delicious that made his stomach grumble. He groaned softly
and stretched, looking around when he realized he was alone. He could hear
Stiles' heart beat in the kitchen though and the soft sounds of pans and
sizzling as well. Derek searched around for his boxers and slipped them on, a
warm fuzzy feeling going through his chest when he realized that Stiles must
have cleaned him off when he was sleeping. It should maybe have alarmed him
more that it didn't wake him up or even rouse him at all with someone else in
the house much less someone touching him while he was asleep. He supposed that
was what happened when you loved someone and trusted them so completely. He
didn't even know when he started to trust Stiles but he knew that there was no
question about his trust. He padded barefoot into the bathroom, hair sticking
up on one side and flattened on the other, lines on his face from the fabric of
the couch where he'd been laying. He leaned against the doorjamb and cleared
his throat softly so he wouldn't startle Stiles out of his skin. "Morning," he
rasped thickly, voice a little bit raspy with the remnants of sleep.
Stiles turned around to greet Derek and couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled
up from his chest. “Oh my god,” he wheezed as he laughed, “You look so cute in
the morning.” It really was adorable, looking at Derek all rumpled and messy.
Well, when you looked at his head at least. If you traveled any further down,
you would be slapped in the face with the body of sexiness. Stiles turned down
the heat on the stove for safety and walked over to Derek, wrapped his arms
around the man’s shoulders and leaning up to kiss him gently. “Morning,” he
murmured, a smile playing on his lips. He was just about to move in for a
deeper kiss when he heard the front door swing open.
“I know you can hear me Derek, so there better be clothes on wherever you and
Stiles happened to be,” Kenna called from where she was toeing off her shoes.
“No secrets among werewolves huh?” Stiles said with a small sigh as Kenna came
into view.
“Stiles, I don’t think you could keep a secret if you tried,” Kenna said good-
naturedly. Stiles made a face at her before stepping away to return to the
chicken on the stove.
“So have you come to collect your things before running back into the arms of
Mr. Fiancé?” Stiles asked over his shoulder, a teasing smile on his lips.
Derek sighed when the front door opened and Stiles pulled away, definitely not
ready to stop kissing Stiles after the sex and the nap they'd gotten to have
together. That had been nice. Derek was sure going to miss Kenna when she
really moved out but he would definitely be able to get used to having Stiles
all to himself.
"We're having sex on the kitchen island as we speak. Come back never," Derek
called back with a little smirk though it was obvious he was joking and Kenna
made a face at him coming into the kitchen.
"Feeling the love there, Derek. Thanks," she said, sticking out her tongue at
him and hopping up to sit on the counter. She turned back to Stiles and smiled,
tilting her head and shaking it a bit. "I'm not moving in with Jacob yet, not
until after the wedding. He's old fashioned and likes to do things the
traditional way. I'll stay here with you guys until the wedding and then Jake
and I will move in together once we get back from our honeymoon. Don't you
worry. You're not losing me yet." She leaned over to press a smacking kiss to
Stiles' cheek and then hopped off the counter, going to kiss Derek's cheek as
well. "I'm going upstairs to take a well deserved nap. Your mom filled me in on
what happened around here today. Sorry to say but I am not at all upset that I
wasn't here, to be honest."
“Well I’m sure as hell glad that I was here,” Stiles said with a smirk, “I
mean, admittedly, I don’t really have a frame of reference but Christ, that man
has some magic hands.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively making Kenna
pretend to throw up.
“Too much information there, Stiles,” she said with a grimace, though the
playfulness in her eyes spoke towards her real attitude.
“What can I say? I’m excited about it,” Stiles laughed. He turned the stove on
low again before taking a run at Derek, jumping up to wrap his legs around the
man’s waist. Without even thinking about it, he leaned down to nuzzle Derek’s
neck the way that Derek always did to him.
“It is pretty amazing,” Kenna commented with a tilt of her head, “What are the
odds? Stiles just happened to get caught for the first time in his entire life
and Laura and Derek just happened to attend that particular auction. It’s
almost like fate.”
“Better than fate,” Stiles said dramatically, “Destiny.” He and Kenna burst
into laughter moments later, Stiles still clinging to Derek. She had a point
though. They had come together in what had honestly been extraordinary
circumstances. If either one of them had done something different, it was
entirely possible that they would not be here today. Even after such a short
time, Stiles couldn’t imagine a future without Derek.
Derek caught Stiles in his arms automatically, ears still flaming red from
Stiles' less than subtle innuendos into the sex they'd had since finding out
they were pretty much specifically created for each other. He supported Stiles
easily enough and tilted his head aside with a soft noise when Stiles nuzzled
in. Stiles was picking up his scenting habits and it was great. Stiles could
scent Derek anytime he wanted to, to be honest.
"Well, I'm grateful for whatever it was that got us Stiles," Derek decided with
a nod and tilted Stiles' chin down to kiss him sweetly right there in front of
Kenna even though he wasn't huge on PDA.
Kenna made a soft noise of approval and when Derek broke the kiss he smiled
dopily at Stiles. "You two are adorable," Kenna said with a happy sigh and a
nod, grinning at them both. "However I'm exhausted. Jacob and I were busy last
night. I'm going to go shower and then probably sleep. Maybe I don't know," she
said, waving her hand. "Maybe I'll come watch a movie with you two if you're
not getting your sex on upstairs."
Stiles could really get lost in kissing Derek. It was actually becoming a
problem. In the short few seconds that Derek had kissed him in front of Kenna,
Stiles had forgotten she was even there, only remembering when she spoke. He
blushed a little bit at her words, but Stiles wasn't one who was shamed that
easily.
"Well if my teenage libido has anything to say about it, we probably won't get
to watch that movie today," he said with a smile and a wink, "Or tomorrow. Or
ever really." Kenna just rolled her eyes and shook her head, giving both boys a
quick kiss on the cheek before heading upstairs.
"I'll see you the next time you both have clothes on," she called behind her.
Stiles laughed and rested his head against Derek's shoulder.
"You know the fact that you wear clothes at all is a sin," Stiles murmured to
Derek, kissing at his neck, "And if I wasn't cooking, you wouldn't be wearing
anything." He gave Derek a wide grin as he jumped down from his arms and
returned to the stove. It was fun, having that kind of power over someone, to
get them worked up like that. Stiles was discovering new things about himself
the longer that he was with Derek, and the most recent one was probably that
he's a bit of a tease.
"Sleep well, Kenna," Derek told Kenna, pressing a kiss to the top of her head
before she got too far. She would always be like a little sister to him even if
she was getting married and moving out of the house. He almost felt like his
little bird was leaving the nest but he'd never admit that to anyone. At least
he wouldn't have to worry about empty nest syndrome because he'd have Stiles
there with him to fill it up again with laughter and happiness.
He blushed when Stiles said he'd rather Derek be naked and that Derek would
definitely be naked if he wasn't cooking. Turns out Stiles was a huge tease but
Derek really didn't mind that. He moved up behind Stiles at the stove and
wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, aligning his whole body up the length of
Stiles' back.
"Yea? Well once Kenna moves out we never have to wear clothes when we're at
home if you don't want to. I'd be more than okay with getting to see you naked
all the time," he hummed quietly, pressing his lips to two little moles on the
back of Stiles neck just over the little knob at the top of his spine. He ran
his hands down Stiles' ribs and sides, stopping at his hips and sliding around
to his lower belly.
Stiles felt Derek’s hands on him and immediately stopped breathing, his heart
speeding up ever so slightly. It hadn’t even been a conscious decision, just
something that happened when he felt the way that Derek pressed against him,
the gentle touch of his fingers, the strong, safe feeling of his arms wrapped
around Stiles. It was insane, how in tune they were with each other already. In
fact, it was a little scary, soul bond or not. It seemed impossible for two
people to be so completely perfect for each other. Were he and Derek ever going
to argue? Get into screaming matches? Have awesome make-up sex? Sure, the last
question wasn’t really important, but the first two were. Stiles wasn’t sure
that any given relationship was completely healthy if there wasn’t a good
amount of disagreement now and then. That’s what a relationship was after all,
accepting someone and working through your differences.
“Food’s done,” Stiles said after another moment of poking the chicken around,
“Don’t expect it to be all that good though. This is basically my first time
using a real kitchen.” He wiggled out of Derek’s grasp to grab some plates and
slid the food onto them, turning to put them on the table before getting them
something to drink. They could talk about Stiles’ worries later. He distinctly
remembered Derek saying something about getting a cat and then working on
finding Stiles’ father, both of which could definitely come before Stiles’
petty worries.
Derek could feel a slight shift in the atmosphere, in Stiles' mood. But Stiles
seemed okay at the moment so he pushed it away and helped him serve up the
plates. Derek smiled and shook his head, filling two glasses with ice water for
them both and going to set them on the table. "I'm sure it'll be great, Stiles.
It smells great," he said reassuringly, reaching over to squeeze Stiles'
fingers once on his way back to the fridge. "Do you want me to heat up some
green beans from the other day to go with it?"
“Sounds great,” Stiles said with a nod. Moments later, they were both settled
in with their food and all that could be heard was the clinking of silverware
against plates. Stiles was a bit nervous, carefully watching Derek’s reaction
as he ate, wanting to see what he really thought of the chicken despite what he
was going to say. “So where did you want to start with finding my dad?” Stiles
blurted out a few minutes later, a question that had been on his mind since
yesterday. He, personally, had very little idea of where to start, just a
general vicinity. It wasn’t exactly the most helpful thing ever.
Derek warmed up the green beans quickly and served the both of them some before
they both went to sit down at the table. He took a bite of the chicken and made
a soft little noise, looking up at Stiles. "This is really good. You shouldn't
sell yourself short," he said honestly, taking another bite. It wasn't the best
chicken he'd ever had but it was really good; the spices Stiles had used were
ones Derek wouldn't know what to do with. Well that wasn't all true, there were
things that he'd use them for but he'd never think to use them on chicken or
all together. It was really good.
He was sipping at his water when Stiles asked about his father and Derek
understood the shift in mood. Stiles had been thinking about looking for his
father and it made him nervous or anxious, both probably. Derek could
understand that. He licked his lips and set his glass down carefully, taking a
moment to sort his thoughts and readjust himself. "That depends on you, I
suppose," he answered finally, looking over at Stiles. "If you can remember the
last place that you were then we can start there. I think I'd like to send
Isaac first to see if he can catch a trail or something to go off of. He's the
best tracker out of the pack and if anyone can pick up a trail it'll be him.
Otherwise we'll go off what you know; any patterns that you can remember from
moving around. Once we find them, we'll assess the situation; see about what
sort of security they have, see if we can figure out where your father is. We
have to be very careful. We don't want to alert the whole encampment of our
arrival. I think it would be best if we acted when there aren't a lot of people
around, got your father to come with us quietly."
Stiles nodded gently, listening to Derek’s words and considering them
seriously. Honestly, he never really knew where they were at any given time.
Anyone that was under the age of eighteen wasn’t allowed to look at the maps,
which Stiles thought was the stupidest rule ever because how are they supposed
to find their way back if they were taken like Stiles was and managed to
escape. Or find themselves with their soul mate. Both options apparently work
to the same end.
“We stuck to the forests. Rural communities. Never went anywhere that had a
population above a couple thousand,” Stiles said slowly as he tried to think,
organizing information in his head, “We were definitely towards the east coast
because we did this whole thing where we went from west to east. More northern
too, based on how cold it would get. I would start around the Pennsylvania
area, but they’re long gone by now. I sent out the signal and they would’ve
packed up and moved without a second thought. Probably even further north? The
denser the forests the better.” Stiles wished he could be more helpful, but
their movements were erratic and haphazard at best. If you became predictable,
you became a target. Stiles had heard stories of camps that always followed the
same trails year after year and once the werewolves picked up on it, they were
done for.
“As for sending someone in, that’s probably a horrible idea,” Stiles added
after a moment, “I can tell you all about the security and the lookouts and the
signals, but even avoiding all those is useless. You, or any of your pack, are
strangers. Werewolf or human, strangers are unwanted. It’s a very shoot-first-
ask-questions-later environment. If you let me get close enough, I can get a
signal to my dad, one that we made up years ago in case we ever got separated.
He’d come out to me, and we could talk.”
Derek considered what Stiles said, nodding with pursed lips and taking a bite
of his food. He swallowed it down with his water and then rubbed his fingers
over his jaw. "If they're shoot-first-ask-questions-later type of people, I'm
not sure how comfortable I am letting you get too close. You've been missing to
them for weeks at least. You sent the signal to tell them to move on but you
didn't rejoin them. Which tells them you were captured. If you get close again,
if someone just happens to see you?" he posed, raising his brows a little.
"Stiles, I'm- as we plan this out I'm probably...no, I'm going to be over
protective of you. I just can't risk you getting hurt. There are a lot of
things I would risk but you are not one of those things. So, I'm sorry in
advance." Derek took a deep breath and smiled a little at Stiles. He knew that
with Stiles' personality he would not appreciate Derek being over protective;
he'd be okay with it at first probably but he'd get annoyed sooner or later. It
would probably lead to some arguments, glares, maybe even yelling. But they'd
get through it, wouldn't they? They were made for each other so they had to get
through it. But there was nothing in the world that was worth risking Stiles
for, not in Derek's book. "As soon as we're done eating I'll call the others
over, we'll figure out where to start, when to start. It's going to take awhile
though, to eliminate as much risk as possible."
“Life is full of risk, Derek,” Stiles countered, “If anyone can get close
enough, it’s me. Caught or not, if I came back they would assume I escaped
first before anything.” He knew that he shouldn’t push, but this was his
father, his patched together family. Sure, when it came down to the wire, all
Stiles had was blood, but on the day to day, everyone tried to look out for
each other. It was an unspoken understanding. Scott would get it. Stiles could
understand that Derek would be worried, but he wasn’t going to let it stand in
his way. He may cooperate in the beginning, but if something went wrong, if he
had an opportunity to get to his father, he would take it no matter how
dangerous. This was his family. Stiles finished up the food on his plate and
stood up. He dropped his dishes in the sink and stopped by where Derek was
still sitting to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to shower,” he
murmured, lips brushing against Derek’s stubble. He didn’t want to start a
fight when there was nothing to fight about. At least, not yet. He was almost
positive that both of their forceful personalities would clash over this more
than once before it was over and he could only hope that they were going to
come through it alright. He jogged up the stairs to Derek’s room and stripped
out of the few articles of clothing he had put on when he woke up. A nice, hot
shower sounded perfect, especially before getting into something like tracking
people that were very good at not being found.
"Stiles-" Derek tried but Stiles was already walking away. He wanted to argue
that Stiles had literally just said that the people in those camp were shoot
first ask later. He wanted to argue that someone might be new who didn't
recognize him and they'd shoot him and then what? Stiles would be dead before
someone who recognized him could stop them. Derek would kill every single one
of them if Stiles ended up dead. Then he'd probably kill himself if he was
being honest. It may've been extreme but a world without Stiles living in it
wasn't one that Derek wanted to live in either. He took a few deep breaths to
calm himself down before getting up. He hadn't finished his food but thinking
about Stiles getting hurt more or less killed his appetite. He saved the food
in a plastic container and then loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. He
started it up and then just stood there for a moment before deciding to go try
and get some work done in his office. He didn't need a shower and he didn't
think Stiles wanted him to join in either so he may as well be productive. He
looked around the kitchen but it was all clean so he climbed the stairs to the
library and then into his office that was attached. First thing was to check
his emails; responding to the important ones more in depth and then sending
quick apologies to the less urgent ones. When that was done, he pulled a set of
blueprints from his shelf and went to work at his drafting table, grabbing a
pencil. As an afterthought, he sent a quick text to Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and
Kira before getting down to work.
Stiles took way too long in the shower. He knew it. Derek probably knew. Hell,
Kenna might even know it. It wasn’t for any perverted reasons either, it had
just occurred to Stiles that there was no reason for him to take a five second
shower. He didn’t have to jump in and then get right back out because they had
snuck into someone’s house while they were away and the next person in line
wanted some hot water. Stiles could take as long as he damn well pleased, so he
did. He used Derek’s shampoo and body wash, figuring that the werewolf would
like that. When he finally got out, he dug through Derek’s dresser until he
found a t-shirt and sweatpants as well. He had run out of clothes from the
little bag he had brought up and was too lazy to get more from downstairs.
Besides, he didn’t actually know if he would actually be sleeping in that room
now that he and Derek had sorted everything out. The sweatpants hung a little
lower on his hips than he was used to, but the length of the shirt covered it
up. Stiles made his way downstairs again to see that the kitchen was empty. He
had no way of knowing where Derek had gone, so he opened up the fridge and
peered inside, trying to decide what he wanted to drink. That’s when the front
door opened.
“I smell mingling,” Erica sing-songed as she waltzed into the kitchen, Boyd and
Isaac behind her, along with a girl Stiles had met at the family dinner whose
name he couldn’t remember.
“Wearing his clothes too,” Boyd pointed out with a tilt of his head.
“Someone is possessively scenting,” Isaac said, emphasizing the last two words
ever so slightly to make sure that Derek would hear them.
“Umm, hello?” Stiles greeted, still unsure how to act around the three betas.
“Oh honey,” Erica said with a small smile, “Don’t be embarrassed. We all
would’ve known the second we came in, even if Laura didn’t call us.” She tapped
her nose meaningfully and Stiles could only blush wildly. They must live closer
than Derek’s family, since they got here so quickly.
“I… uh… umm,” Stiles stammered, his flush spreading down his neck.
Derek heard his betas arrive at the house but he was finally on a roll with the
home he was working on for a family with kids and he didn't want to stop right
then. In a normal tone of voice he told the others to come upstairs when they
were ready and to leave Stiles alone if they didn't want to have a few broken
bones. He figured since they were there they could also get some training in
afterwards. They'd need to start training more if they were going to pull off
getting Stiles' father back for him.
Erica pursed her lips downstairs and sighed, shaking her head. "Derek said to
come upstairs and for us to leave you alone," she said, seeming to be put out
by it but she relaxed when Boyd took her hand in his own.
"Come on, Derek's in his office," Isaac added, heading back to the foyer and up
the stairs.
Erica winked at Stiles playfully as she and Boyd followed after Isaac and Kira
waited patiently for Stiles to join them before falling into step next to him.
"I'm Kira, if you don't remember. I'm usually bad with names too but I know who
you are obviously," she said with a smile, tucking dark hair behind her ear as
she looked over at Stiles. "I'm not a werewolf. I'm a kitsune. Which is
basically like a werefox, I guess, but I can also do this." She held up her
hands, palms facing each other, and electricity sparked between them brightly
for a moment before she dropped them again. "Cool huh? I can also do fire but
I'm not as good as that and I don't want to accidentally burn down Derek's
house."
Stiles listened to Kira with extreme interest. He’d never even heard of a
kitsune. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He didn’t know they actually existed.
Werewolves were hard enough to handle, but this somehow made it worse. Just how
many mythological creatures actually existed and were out there going bump in
the night? Stiles decided he would try to not think about it. It wasn’t exactly
a pleasant thought, after all. Not that supernatural creatures were unpleasant,
just the not knowing. That was very unpleasant.
The five of them entered the office together and without even noticing, Stiles
gravitated towards Derek a bit while the others remained closer to the doorway.
He couldn’t help it. He felt this weird need to touch the older man and be
close. Maybe it was because of their small disagreement earlier. Stiles could
tell that was going to be a problem in the upcoming days. Stiles stopped
awkwardly halfway between Derek and the rest of his pack, unsure if he should
actually get any closer or not. He didn’t know if Derek wanted to focus, he
didn’t even know if Derek meant for Stiles to come upstairs as well.
“So am I safe in assuming that there is a reason behind this little gathering?”
Isaac said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Kira gave him
a gentle shove.
“Why does there have to be a reason for a little bonding?” she countered,
though she knew that it was probably a little more serious than that. Stiles’
fingers twitched towards Derek and Erica gave him a knowing smile. Well, more
of a knowing smirk, but he could sense the love behind it. Sort of. Derek’s
pack was a little hard to get a read on, but Stiles was sure that he just had
to get to know them, just like anybody else.
Derek gave Stiles a small encouraging smile but he stood instead, putting down
his pencil and getting up from the blueprint drawings he was working on. He
moved to Stiles' side instead and rested a hand on his back, standing close.
"There's a reason, yes. We can talk in the library where there's room to sit,"
he answered, waving them back through the door and following behind them with
Stiles. He knew it would make Stiles a little bit more comfortable to have the
other werewolves in front of them instead of out of sight even if he was coming
around to them.
Erica and Boyd took up a small, plush suede loveseat, curling together. Kira
took an armchair and Isaac sat on the floor by her legs, leaning against them.
So Derek led Stiles to the sofa that faced both and sat down as well so that
they were all comfortable.
"So what's going on, boss man?" Kira asked, combing idle fingers through
Isaac's thick curls.
"We're working on a...project. All of us. And we're going to keep it to
ourselves for now okay?" Derek replied, moving his arm from behind Stiles' back
to hold his hand openly instead. "We're going to find Stiles' father and
convince him to come back with us."
The others were all quiet for a moment and then Erica grinned, all wide
excitement and sharp white teeth. "Excellent. I feel like I'm in some action
summer blockbuster already. Can we have cool codenames?"
Derek rolled his eyes and sighed. "We can come up with that later. This is
serious, Erica," Derek responded, fond exasperation in his tone but also just
the slightest hint of a warning. Erica huffed but she sobered up with a nod,
smoothing back thick curls and settling more firmly against Boyd. Derek looked
at the others and continued. "We're also going to start training more
frequently, starting today. And Stiles, I'm going to be training you to fight
as well. If you insist on being close to this then I'm not going to let you do
it without being able to protect yourself, alright?"
Stiles could feel himself relax the second that Derek made contact with him and
it was weird how that was really the only thing making him tense. One point of
contact, and he felt completely at ease. He definitely wanted to do more
research on this whole soul bond situation, just to settle his curiosity if
nothing else. He was glad that the others were on board, especially for such a
selfish request. They had no reason to want to find Stiles’ father and it was
going to be dangerous and yet they all seemed up for it. Even though he knew it
was mostly for Derek, Stiles was touched. He came back into the conversation
more fully when he realized that Derek was speaking to him.
“I’m a little offended that you think I can’t fight now,” Stiles said, eyebrows
raised, a smile playing on his lips, “Humans aren’t all for one and one for
all. Running into another encampment in the forests or on a loot run could be
deadly. After all, there’s only so much room for all of us to hide.” It was an
unfortunate truth, but one that should have been expected. In population dense
areas, there was no way that the humans would be able to spread out and not be
caught. Stiles had only heard of the frenzy from the first few years. It had
mostly settled down, but coming across another group was still something to be
avoided at all costs.
“Alright then, Bruce Lee, why don’t you show us what you can do?” Erica said,
her smile playful, but predatory.
“What about planning and stuff?” Isaac piped up.
“Boring,” Erica declared, “Train first, planning later.” Stiles sort of agreed,
but he wasn’t so sure about immediate training either. He wasn’t the worst
fighter, but he also wasn’t the best. Not to mention, his strength would do
little to nothing against the werewolves. He wasn’t exactly looking to
embarrass himself. Not to mention that his father hadn’t really taught him to
fight fair. The goal was always staying alive, and if you had to play dirty
then you did it.
Derek frowned thinking about Stiles having to learn to fight for food and fight
for his place and fight for safety. He hated the idea of Stiles having to fight
for anything. But that was all in the past. "Fine, without knowing how to fight
better," he amended lightly, not wanting to insult Stiles. It's not that he
didn't think Stiles could fight but they all still needed training and Derek
wanted to make sure Stiles got it too, since he was the human of the group. It
would just make him feel a lot better about the whole situation. "Anyway. I'm
going to send Isaac and Kira to see if you can find a scent trail to track the
humans. If you can but don't find them or if you can't then you'll come back
here and we'll make a new plan. If you can and do find them then you will keep
a significant distance without losing them and the rest of us will meet you
there to assess the situation and figure out how to get Stiles' father away
from the group so that we can safely talk to him."
"Why do only Isaac and Kira get to go?" Erica asked with a pout, folding her
arms petulantly.
"Isaac is the fastest and Kira is the quietest. Also she has the defensive
abilities in case anything happens," Derek answered with a little sigh and Boyd
rubbed Erica's shoulders to calm her down.
"Okay. Is that all you were going to tell us?" Boyd asked, not in a bored tone
but just because he knew Erica was getting antsy and needed to run around to
get out some of her energy.
"Yea, can we go train now?" Isaac asked, smiling widely and managing to look
like a little kid asking for cotton candy.
"I suppose so unless Stiles has anything else to add?" Derek responded, looking
over at Stiles, the others following his gaze all with hopeful expressions
except Boyd who looked just as placid as ever.
“Umm,” Stiles said slowly, surprised at the spotlight having been placed on
him, “In the event that you get too close, I would go to a local Goodwill or
something and get some clothes that don’t fit. Roll around in the dirt a
little. Don’t shower for a day or two if you can manage. The more human you
look, the safer you’ll be, mostly because you look young. If they found someone
like Derek, human or not, they’d probably start a fight. Uhh, there’s going to
be sentries about 200-300 feet from the camp at any given time, usually up in
the trees, usually anywhere from my age to younger.” Stiles was quiet for a
moment, thinking. “Oh, if you hear this specific bird call,” he paused to
demonstrate it, “Fall back. You’ve been seen and the camp will either move or
come confront you.” They made it so one would make the call and whoever heard
it would repeat it and so on until the signal made it back to camp. It wasn’t
perfect, but it always got the job done.
“Got it,” Isaac said, giving a serious nod. It was almost laughable, seeing him
look so serious when all the times Stiles had seen him, he was all smiles.
“Come on, let’s go,” Erica said, standing up, “I wanna kick some of your asses
at least once today.” She took Boyd’s hand and made her way out of the room,
presumably to the backyard. Isaac and Kira were quick to follow. Stiles sat by
Derek, waiting for him to move as well. He figured they would all shift and
have some wolf training time and Stiles could watch before his inevitable turn
and consequential embarrassment of himself.
“Thank you,” Stiles blurted out, as it had suddenly occurred to him that he had
never really said that to Derek before, at least not regarding this, “You
really don’t have to, but thank you.” Honestly, Derek didn’t have to do
anything for Stiles and the fact that he was going this far to find his father
was touching.
Derek listened to what Stiles had to say seriously, filing away all the
information for later. He didn't want to forget anything because if they left
out one little detail it could put them in danger. Derek was not much of a risk
taker usually and going to find Stiles' father - even if he was human
surrounded by humans - was a risk. Humans could still be dangerous if not
handled properly. A human had almost killed his family once so he wasn't going
to underestimate them at all. The others all got out to head to the backyard
where they did their warm ups and training. Luckily they must have suspected
there would be some sort of physical activity because none of them were
particularly dressed up.
Derek looked to Stiles when he was thanked and he stood them both up, leaning
in to Stiles to press a soft kiss to his lips. "You don't have to thank me for
anything, Stiles. I told you before, I want you to be happy here and I know
that you couldn't be truly happy without your dad. I understand that and I want
him to be safe too," he murmured, kissing Stiles' forehead and then taking his
hand. "Come on, let's head downstairs with the others."
Derek led the way down and out to the back yard where the others were already
warming up, stretching out their muscles. Derek nodded approvingly and then
cleared his throat. "Twenty laps around the house. No shifting," he called to
the others and they didn't even complain, taking off quickly and whooping and
hollering as they chased and raced each other. Derek shook his head fondly and
looked down at Stiles. "They're like little children, I swear."
Stiles chuckled as he watched the betas take off at incredible speeds, even
unshifted. "Isn't that how kids are supposed to act?" he said, giving Derek a
gentle little nudge in the side, though he didn't move away from the werewolf.
It kind of made him happy, seeing people his age actually act their own ages.
Stiles hadn't felt like whooping and yelling in a long time, especially after
Scott had been taken because then he had no one to whoop and yell with. Even if
that reality was still a long way to be something that humans also experience,
Stiles had hope.
"So what do you have for me Derek?" Stiles asked, playfulness coloring his tone
as he began jogging in place, "Do I get laps around the house? Maybe sit ups
instead? Push-ups? Come on, hit me with your best shot." Admittedly, Stiles was
better at running than anything else, but he still had a fair amount of muscle
on him. He'd never really had the opportunity until now to show Derek what he
was really made of, to show him that he wasn't as fragile and breakable as he
looked. Stiles was hopping from foot to foot now, positively thrumming with
energy.
Erica and the rest of them shot past, having finished their first lap. Or maybe
it was more than that? Stiles hadn't really been paying all that much
attention. With the promise of any kind of physical or mental activity, Stiles
became very singularly focused and at the moment that focus was on Derek,
waiting for some kind of instruction or direction.
Derek wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want to insult Stiles by not giving
him enough of a challenge but he didn't want to give him too much to do either
so he wouldn't overwork himself. So he smiled and decided to leave it to
Stiles, reaching for his hand. "I could give you something more fun to do," he
offered but it was obvious he was only teasing as he leaned in to steal a kiss
from Stiles' mouth. "Why don't you run laps with the others while I pull some
stuff from the garage? Don't overwork yourself though. We're doing more than
just running."
Stiles smiled and slid a hand behind Derek's head to pull him in for a longer
kiss, taking a step closer to bring them together. A loud wolf whistle pulled
him out of his happy little bubble and he turned to see the group of betas and
Kira running past them again. Stiles blushed and stepped away, stretching out
his legs and arms for a moment, his eye on the corner of the house where the
betas would come around again. He got himself into a starting position and
waited. The second the group came around again, Stiles was off like a shot. He
was only in step with them for a few moments before falling behind, but he
didn't seem to care, a smile on his face as he rounded the first corner of the
house. He was sure that the wolves would lap him over and over, but as long as
he didn't completely wipe out, he'd be fine.
Derek returned the second kiss Stiles took from him and then watched as he took
off after the betas, smiling fondly as they all disappeared around the corner
of the house. Derek could still hear them whooping and hollering, calling
Stiles on but not in a condescending way. They really were trying to encourage
Stiles on. Derek was glad how easily they had accepted Stiles into the pack as
one of them. Derek headed to the side of the house and through the side door
into the garage, moving over to the other end where he kept what weapons he
owned. They didn't really need to use weapons but Talia had always told them
that the more ways they had to defend themselves the better, in case anything
were to happen. He placed his hand on the print scanner and the lock clicked
open after a moment so he went through pulling out a few things. He'd practice
with Kira with the katanas while the other three practiced close combat with
knives. He also pulled a few things he thought Stiles would be able to use. He
wasn't sure what kind of weapons they had had within Stiles' old encampment or
if Stiles had ever been allowed to use them, but he needed to learn now for his
own sake.
If there was something Stiles was good at, it was running. He just had this
natural ability to pace himself perfectly and it took a lot for him to tire
out. Plus he was fast, something that he took great pride in. Every once in a
while, some of the older kids would have little races and things to just kind
of practice and win some gloating rights. No one ever beat Stiles in a race.
Now, as Erica pinched his ass for the second time as they lapped him, Stiles
couldn’t help but miss those days. He shook his head, pushing himself harder
and faster, trying to catch up even though he knew he couldn’t. Damn
werewolves. They all called to him, teasing playfully for him to catch up,
making Stiles laugh. They finally started to slow down, Stiles assumed for
their cool down lap, and he shot passed them, tugging on Erica’s hair gently as
he did as payback.
“Oh you think you’re funny do you?” Erica shouted.
“It’s only fair!” Stiles shouted back with a laugh.
“Oh yeah? Well then so is this,” Erica yelled back, a smile on her face.
“Oh shit,” Stiles breathed as he watched her speed up. He only had one more
corner of the house to clear before he could run and hide behind Derek and use
him as a shield. Stiles was not above using the alpha to protect himself from
Erica’s wrath. He shut his eyes and put forth a final burst of speed that he
didn’t know he had. He could hear Erica getting closer and closer. He knew that
he couldn’t outrun her for long, he just needed to do it for long enough. He
swung around the corner of the house, sliding so that he didn’t have to lose
speed by making the actual turn. Erica was maybe a foot behind him now and
Stiles dodged to the side, running straight up to Derek and hooking an arm
around the man’s waist to stop himself and swing around to hide behind his
back, laughing breathlessly.
“Remind me not to pull her hair,” he panted, a smile on his face.
"Oh sure, hide behind the big bad wolf. He can't protect you forever you know,"
Erica said with a sharp smirk, blood red painted lips stretching over sharp
teeth.
Derek rolled his eyes and shifted to get his arm around Stiles, pulling him
back so that he was against Derek's side instead of behind him. The others came
tumbling all over each other from the same direction Erica and Stiles had.
"Alright alright," he said with a small indulgent smile. "Kira, I want you
warming up with the katana. You can pull one of the dummies out if you want."
He held out the sheathed Japanese sword for her and she took it with a smile,
looping the strap over her shoulder. "Boyd, Isaac, and Erica, you're working
with close combat fighting with knives. No maiming this time please," he
offered the box containing the daggers to Isaac who nodded and opened it up,
passing a knife to each of his pack mates. Derek turned to Stiles next and
smiled. "I don't know what sort of experience you have with weapons so right
now I'm going to start you out with this." He held out a gun in a holster, a
matte black Beretta with a mother of pearl inlaid handle. "I'll go set up a
couple of targets for you to practice on, alright?"
Stiles nodded silently, taking the gun in his hands slowly and carefully. They
didn’t have much in the way of weapons. Most things they had to make. Fishing
rods, sticks sharpened to a point, things like that. They had taken an axe
once, from someone’s tool shed, and they grabbed kitchen knives whenever they
broke into an actual house. Guns though, guns were rare. Stiles is pretty sure
they only had two and he had only ever seen one of them once. They barely ever
took them out, considering they didn’t have any ammunition to spare. It would
have to be a pretty dire situation for them to break out the guns. He was
really only trained in hand-to-hand combat, since there was never a guarantee
of having a weapon. Stiles slid down to sit on the grass and stretch out so
that he wouldn’t be sore later, placing the gun on the ground next to him. He
eyed it like it was suddenly going to come to life. It was weird that something
so small could end someone’s life in under a minute. In fact, it was a little
scary. He could hear the sounds of the rest of the pack training around him,
but they were far enough away that he wasn’t really worried about getting hurt.
He wondered if he would even be any good with a gun. He was pretty good at
spear fishing, but he mostly just made snares. He’d never really had an
occasion to work on his aim.
Derek moved away from Stiles again to go back into the garage, pulling out the
target stands and fresh target sheets along with an extra clip of ammo just in
case. He headed back out to the expansive yard and started pacing out, setting
the first target at thirty yards, the next at sixty, another at a hundred, and
the last at a hundred fifty. When he was done setting them up he jogged back to
where Stiles was, stopping to correct Erica's stance against Boyd and Isaac.
"Okay, are you ready?" Derek asked, digging into his pocket to pull out a small
plastic case that he popped open revealing two pairs of earplugs. "You'll need
these until you get used to the sound. I don't want you to damage your ear
drums."
“This is a horrible idea,” Stiles suddenly blurted out, looking up at Derek
with wide eyes from where he was still seated on the ground from stretching,
the gun sitting heavily in his hands, still safely in its holster. He looked
down at the gun and then over to the targets and back up at Derek, insecurity
and worry dancing over his face. “There’s no way this is safe. I could kill
someone!” Stiles went on, feeling a wave of panic rise up on his chest. He had
never even touched a gun before today, let alone shot one. What if he lost
control of it somehow? What if he shot it by accident? What if he hurt Erica,
or Boyd, or Isaac, or Kira? What if he hurt Derek? What if he killed Derek?
Stiles’ stomach clenched at the thought and it felt like his heart was being
torn in two. He couldn’t do this, not with something as uncontrollable as a
gun.
"Stiles, shhh hey, calm down," Derek said gently, kneeling in front of Stiles.
He carefully removed the gun from Stiles' hands and put it aside, taking
Stiles' hands in his and meeting his gaze. "Just focus on me and breathe,
alright? Listen. I know guns are scary the first time you hold them but the
thing about guns is that they are completely at your control. If you learn how
to handle them properly then they're not dangerous to anyone except the person
or thing you're using it on. I'll help you okay? I won't let you hurt yourself
or anyone else. And even if you accidentally shoot one of us, these aren't
wolfsbane bullets so they won't kill us. They'll just hurt a little." He rubbed
Stiles' hands warmly and sighed, tilting his head a little to the side. "This
is the easiest weapon to handle and control. I promise that I won't let
anything go wrong. Can you trust me to do that?"
Stiles was quiet for a moment, just trying to focus on Derek’s hands covering
his own and regulating his breathing. He wasn’t cut out for this. He may have
been forced to survive out there, but that didn’t mean he was ready to fight
out there. Finally, he looked back up a Derek, a wavering smile on his face. “I
trust you,” he said softly, “I do. It’s me that I don’t trust. Clumsy, ADHD
me.” For the most part, having to live with it for his entire life with little
to no medication, Stiles had plenty of workable coping strategies that helped
him stay focused and release energy, but there were days when it got the best
of him and if that day happened to be one where he was holding a gun, things
could get messy very easily. Not wanting to talk about it, Stiles didn’t give
Derek a chance to respond. Instead he leaned forward, gave the other man a soft
kiss on the cheek, and stole a pair of earplugs, rolling them around in his
hands as he stood up and looked down towards the targets. “Let’s get this party
started.”
Derek sighed and he stood up with Stiles, needing him to relax before he put a
gun in his hands. He took a deep breath and stepped up behind Stiles, taking
the gun from the holster. "Here, we'll work on stance and grip first okay? The
gun doesn't need to be loaded for that," he suggested, letting Stiles see how
he slid the magazine free of the gun to tuck in his pocket. He pulled back the
slide and checked the chamber before racking it so the bullet would eject.
"There. No bullets alright? We'll go slowly. I promise."
Stiles nodded, not really realizing how much better that would make him feel
until the weight from gone from his shoulders. Now it was just a useless hunk
of junk. Can’t kill anyone with an unloaded gun. He took it into his hands when
Derek offered it to him this time, feeling the weight and how it felt against
his palm. He knew it would probably be heavier with the magazine loaded, but
for now he just tried to get used to this. “Alright, direct away,” Stiles said,
standing regularly, his arms hanging by his sides. He had no idea how to even
begin to stand except for that the gun had to be pointed towards whatever it
was he was supposed to be shooting, which he hoped would be nobody.
"Alright, first let me show you this," Derek said, standing behind Stiles and
lifting his hand that had the gun in it. He held it in front of both of them.
"When you're not going to shoot you always keep your finger on the trigger
guard. Don't put your finger on the trigger until you're actually ready to pull
it and shoot, okay? Right now the safety is on so even if you do pull the
trigger it won't shoot. The safety is right here under the hammer." He pointed
to a small catch that flicked up or down. "These are your sights. There's a
rear and a front sight so when you're shooting you want to make sure they line
up with your target. You pull the slide to load the first bullet in a magazine
but after that you don't have to touch it again until you empty the clip and
reload. You can also pull and rack the slide to eject a bullet from the chamber
after removing the magazine. You got all of that before I move on? You can stop
me anytime and tell me to slow down or ask questions okay?"
Stiles tried not to lean back into Derek's body, but it was a difficult feat.
He felt drawn to the older man and had to shift back just slightly. He made
sure to listen carefully, his eyes flitting over the gun to each point that
Derek mentioned. "No I got it, keep going," he said confidently. He went over
each thing that Derek had said once more in his head before nodding again. He
could do this. Derek was being very calm and collected about this and if he
could be calm then Stiles could be calm. He eyes the targets warily, unsure if
he would actually be able to hit anything. When it came down to life or death,
Stiles wasn't sure if he'd be able to perform, though if Derek was in danger,
Stiles wasn't sure what he would do. Most likely something extremely violent.
He pressed back against Derek even more just to comfort himself that the man
was behind him and was safe.
"Alright, now we'll work on grip, alright? You're right handed so you're going
to put that hand first. Take the gun in your left hand like this," Derek said
gently, helping Stiles maneuver the weapon correctly. "Now open your right hand
so that you see the webbing between your thumb and index finger. You're going
to put the grip right there and wrap your middle, ring, and pinkie fingers
around the grip, index finger on the trigger guard. Remember, don't put your
finger on the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Alright, now squeeze the gun
as hard as you possibly can. Squeeze it so hard that your hand starts to shake
with the force of it and make sure that your fingers are squeezing straight
back and not at an angle, does that make sense?"
Stiles' brow furrowed in concentration as he watched Derek move his hands
around and bend his fingers. This was a little harder to understand and he
tried to feel it in the way that Derek was maneuvering him. He was frowning a
bit in determination as he tried to follow Derek's directions. Although, it was
a tiny bit hard to concentrate with Derek practically wrapped around him. All
Stiles wanted to do with curl into him and have everything just magically work
out without him having to shoot anybody. That would obviously be ideal, but the
world wasn't ideal. "Like this?" Stiles asked, doing what he thought Derek had
asked, but unsure if he was doing it right. He'd had no idea that there was so
much behind using a gun. Well, he supposed this was probably using a gun right.
He doubted the people in the encampment knew much about correct handling of
guns. The only one that had any firearm background had been his father. The
rest of the people were from completely different walks of life.
Derek checked the way Stiles was gripping it and he nodded with a smile. "Yea,
that's perfect, Stiles," he praised gently, squeezing Stiles' wrist in quiet
appraise. "Alright, now loosen your grip just until your hand is no longer
shaking. But it should be still really tight. Yea, like that. Take your left
hand and cup your other hand in your left palm, lining up your thumbs so that
they're on the same side of the gun. Here," Derek gently repositioned Stiles'
thumbs and then nodded. "You want to be careful to keep your thumbs out of the
way of the slide and the hammer because when the weapon discharges, they both
snap back and they can hurt you. Also, the sudden pain would startle you and
you don't want to drop a loaded gun and risk accidental discharge." He made
minute adjustments to Stiles' fingers until he was satisfied and then nodded.
"Some people will try to tell you that you should close one eye for accuracy
when you're shooting but I'm going to tell you that's a really bad idea.
Especially as a human, no offence intended. You should keep both eyes open. Put
your left foot slightly in front of your right; right arm as straight as you
can with a slight angle in your left arm. Now," he placed a hand flat on
Stiles' belly. "Take a deep breath and relax."
The praise made Stiles smile and he relaxed just that much more. Knowing that
he was handling the gun correctly made him feel a lot better. If he could
handle it the right way, then there was less of a chance that someone was going
to get hurt. Well, at least not the person that he was trying to shoot. Stiles
followed Derek's instructions, moving his feet and arms accordingly. He closed
one eye experimentally and saw how it shifted his entire field of vision
towards the open eye. It struck him as completely inaccurate and he didn't know
why anyone would want to bias their vision like that when shooting something as
deadly as a gun. He opened his eyes again and readjusted himself to ensure that
everything was correct. Derek's hand on his stomach made his heart flutter, but
he made himself focus. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, focusing on
making himself relaxed and calm like Derek had asked. He felt like that was an
extremely important part of this lesson. The more relaxed and in control Stiles
was, the less likely it was that he would freak out and hurt someone by
accident.
Derek could hear Stiles' heart but he chose not to comment on it. There would
be time enough for that later. For now they needed to focus on the gun in
Stiles' hands even if it wasn't loaded. "Okay, Stiles, now you're gonna raise
the gun and you see these two small pieces sticking up at the muzzle and back
near the hammer? Those are the sights. You want to make sure that top of the
rear sight is aligned with the top of the front sight and that the rear sight
is even with the front," he instructed, helping Stiles raise his arms. "You're
going to have to do this part yourself because I can't see what you see
exactly. Now the tricky part is wondering where to focus your eyes. You want to
focus on the very tip of the front sight even though that makes your target
blurry and the rear sight blurry. It's the most accurate way. So for this kind
of handgun you want to align the sight at the bottom of your target. For a
bulls eye, you want it to be aligned with the bottom edge of the circle,
understand?"
Stiles could tell that they were getting down to the wire now. There was only
so much they could do with procedure and form before they had to load the gun
and actually practice shooting. That was the point of the gun after all. He
followed Derek's instructions, getting used to the way that things blurred into
obscurity while he focused on the sights like Derek told him to. He adjusted
his arms slightly so that it lined up with the closest target in front of him,
angling towards the bottom edge of the circle like Derek had told him. He lined
up the sights carefully and then focused like Derek had instructed. "Okay,"
Stiles finally said, "I think I've got all this. Well, I mean, theoretically.
I'm assuming that it's gonna be pretty different when there are actually
bullets in the gun that I'm actually going to fire, but hey I mean one step at
a time and all that." He tried to give Derek a smile, but he was still a bit
nervous. He wondered what it would feel like when he actually shot it hoped to
god that he would actually be able to do it if the time came.
Derek smiled and he pressed a gentle kiss to Stiles' cheek, using his hands to
gently lower Stiles' arms and then turning him around. "Hey, you did great. And
we can save the actual shooting for another day if you like. We don't have to
do it all right now. We can work on your close combat skills if you want," he
offered, not wanting to push Stiles too far too fast. They had time to work up
to shooting real bullets. Maybe Derek could invest in some dummy rounds,
blanks, and/or rubber bullets to work Stiles up to, since he seemed hesitant to
use something that could actually hurt someone. Derek didn't have any of those
on hand though so he'd have to look into buying some. "Do you want me to show
you how it's done? And if you don't want to then you don't have to fire any
rounds today. You can keep working on your grip and stance or we can move on to
combat training. Whatever you want or whatever you're comfortable with."
Stiles could practically feel the breath whoosh out of him when Derek gave him
other options. Part of him just wanted to put the gun down and not think about
it for as long as possible, but at the same time he kind of wanted to get it
over with. He was quiet for a moment as he thought, trying to decide what would
be better. "Let's get it over with," he finally blurted out, "Might as well,
right? And if I really can't do it, then we can just not do it, right? I mean,
I can always kick your ass instead. I totally can to. You know, if you weren't
a werewolf. And maybe with about fifty pounds less of muscle. Then I could
totally beat you in a fight." He was rambling and he was nervous, but he stuck
by his decision of just doing it now and ripping it off like a bandage. That
would make everything easier. Besides, it was time that he grew up. He couldn't
count on Derek to protect him and he couldn't depend on his father either. He
had to be able to protect himself and this was another step towards that. He
held the gun out to Derek so that the older man could show him how to load it
properly.
Derek studied Stiles for a moment. He looked tense and almost on edge and Derek
really needed him to be calm and collected before loading active ammunition
into the gun. "Stiles...are you sure? You look tense. You don't have to push
yourself into this, you know. We can invest in some dummy rounds or blanks or
even rubber bullets to start with. You really should be as relaxed as possible
when learning. I'm not saying you can't do it. I'm just saying, you don't have
to force yourself to," he said, taking the gun that was being offered to him.
"There's no shame in waiting until you're ready. I wasn't trying to force you
into this either."
Stiles pushed himself up enough so that he could kiss Derek gently. "I'm
just... nervous," he said slowly, trying to figure out how to phrase it
correctly, "Not necessarily about firing the gun. Well, yes about firing the
gun, but also about everything it means. You know, being able to hurt someone,
having such a life-changing power literally in the palm of my hand. But it's...
it's something I need to do. I know that you would probably do just about
anything to keep my safe, but I need to be able to protect myself in more than
just one way. Yesterday showed me that pretty clearly." It was tough for
Stiles, admitting that he was weak in any sense of the word. He hated the idea
and he hated showing anyone that he was weak, but this would make him stronger
in the end.
"You know," Derek said gently, pulling Stiles close to him and pressing a kiss
to his cheek. "You don't always have to take the kill shot. Once your aim is
good enough, you could go for an arm or a leg, a shoulder even. It won't kill
but it'll certainly put your enemy on the ground for a while. Just because you
know how to shoot a gun doesn't mean that you have to be a killer. Just
like...being a werewolf doesn't mean I have to be a monster. You can protect
yourself without ending a life. And you can bet that I'll be at your back
whenever you need me, whenever you're in trouble I'll be there to help or to
step in." He rubbed his hands over Stiles' sides and gave him a small smile.
"So you're sure you want to do this now? You don't want to wait? Do you want me
to demonstrate first? So you can get used to the sound and I can show you how
to handle the kick back?"
Stiles took comfort in Derek's closeness and it made him breath a little
easier. "Whatever you think would be better," he said simply. Derek did have a
point, Stiles had no idea what the kick back would be like. With his luck, he
would probably end up hitting himself in the face or something stupid like
that. He could already hear Erica laughing after the initial concern was gone.
Derek's words helped him calm down as well. Honestly, not taking the kill shot
hadn't even crossed Stiles' mind. It was kind of the mindset he had been given.
If it came down to you or the other guy, you always choose the other guy.
Beating someone and then letting them go with that bitterness and hatred was
too dangerous. Almost every confrontation would end in death one way or
another. No one liked to take any chances.
"I'll show you," Derek offered with a soft smile and leaned in to kiss Stiles
one more time, trying to kiss the tension out of his muscles so that he could
relax. When he pulled away he showed Stiles how to slide the loaded magazine
into place and then how to pull back the slide to load the first bullet.
"Always remember to keep your thumbs free from the slid and hammer okay? Find a
timing for your shooting. I like to do it on a slow exhale before I inhale
again. Squeeze the trigger steadily, not suddenly or you'll screw up your aim
because the gun will jerk in your hand. And then you just," Derek exhaled
slowly and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot was loud as the bullet burst forth
from the barrel, Derek managing to keep the gun steady. "Don't lock your wrists
when you pull the trigger and don't release it too suddenly. Let the barrel
swing up slightly and then down and then keep the barrel pointed towards the
target. Then you can take another shot when you're ready. Once you're good
enough you can do this. Brace yourself." In rapid succession, Derek emptied the
rest of the magazine into the targets; two more into the closest one and four
into each target further away. The smell of gunpowder filled the air and Derek
pointed the gun at the ground, racking the slide to make sure the chamber was
empty and then flicking the safety back on. He turned back to Stiles with a
little smirk. "Okay, I was maybe showing off a little. Sorry," he admitted with
a sheepish, apologetic little smile.
Stiles shook his head a little at Derek’s display. It was showing off, quite
blatantly too, but he supposed that he would do the same thing if he was trying
to impress someone. In fact, he probably had done the same thing at some point
in his life. Of course, Derek didn’t really have to impress him. They had kind
of skipped that step and jumped right into just being together. He gave Derek a
gentle nudge with his elbow and a smile. “Alright, that’s enough from you,” he
teased, “You need to give someone else a shot at it.” He smiled a little at his
accidental pun and he motioned towards Derek to hand him the gun. He was still
pretty nervous about the whole thing, but watching Derek and seeing how easily
he controlled the situation made him feel a little better. He couldn’t possibly
be as good as Derek, he knew that, but he had faith that he would be able to
learn and have the same control. He waited for Derek to hand over the gun
before loading it carefully under the werewolf’s watchful supervision. He had
to make sure he could load it just as much as he had to know how to shoot it.
He kept his fingers away from the slide and the hammer like Derek had said and
all too soon, he was ready to go. Stiles took a deep breath and went through it
step by step. He adjusted his stance and his grip, remembering not to touch the
trigger until he was ready. The safety was still on, but it was a good habit to
get into. Stiles raised the gun and lined it up to the target, focusing on his
sights carefully before flicking the safety off. “Now or never,” he said, more
to himself than anything else. After taking another deep breath, Stiles shifted
his finger and pulled the trigger. Everything seemed to slow down a bit as the
bullet shot out of the gun and Stiles felt the kick back, remembering not to
lock his wrists like Derek had said. He didn’t even look up to see where the
bullet had gone. He just flicked the safety back on and let himself sag a bit.
Derek handed the gun over to Stiles and watched him load it with a nod. Stiles
seemed to have very good sense and muscle memory because whatever slight
mistakes Derek saw him make, he corrected almost immediately. Derek was
impressed, honestly. He watched Stiles' hands to make sure he kept his thumbs
out of the way but he was perfect in recreating what Derek had taught him and
then he squeezed the trigger, handled the kick back with grace, and flicked the
safety back on. Derek glanced at the first target to find Stiles' mark; his own
had all gone into the bull’s eye but Stiles' was right between the third and
fourth rings out of six. He could've done a lot worse. "That was great,
Stiles," Derek praised with raised brows, letting his expression show how much
Stiles had impressed him. He knew Stiles wasn't a child, but Derek believed
that you never got too old for positive reinforcement. If Stiles knew and saw
that Derek thought he did well then he would in turn believe that he did well
and would continue to get better. "That was really great. You did much better
than Erica did her first time. She didn't even hit the target stand."
"I hate you for telling him that," Erica shouted from where she was sparring
with Boyd and Isaac simultaneously, dodging their blows smoothly and getting in
one of her own, leaving Isaac with a long cut on his forearm and a shorter one
on Boyd's palm.
"That was a pretty intense feeling," Stiles said, staring over at the dark
where his bullet had made a hole in the large target, "To think that I could
squeeze my finger over here and someone dies over there." It was honestly
pretty heady. Stiles kind of understood now why his father never wanted him to
learn how to shoot or even pick up a gun. It was a little bit of a power rush.
A really scary one, yes, but a power rush nonetheless. Stiles still didn't
think that he would actually be able to kill anyone and he was still worried
about hurting someone he cared about, but the more prepared he was, the less
likely he would be to hurt anyone. "Should I go again?" he asked, turning to
look back at Derek. He was suddenly filled with this feeling of intense
protectiveness. He and Derek were meant to be together from birth and he would
fight to keep them together no matter what it took. Honestly, he didn't want
Derek to come with him. It would be dangerous to have a werewolf anywhere near
their camp and it would be difficult to convince his father that everything was
on the up and up, but they were the two most important people in his life and
he needed them to like each other. Stiles had no idea how this would turn out,
but he could only hope for the best.
***** Chapter 11 *****
Derek could smell the mix of emotions coming off of Stiles and while some of
them were not the good kind of emotions, most of them were good. "Someone
doesn't always die, Stiles. Remember that okay? You don't have to kill if it's
not absolutely necessary. I can teach you places to shoot that will
incapacitate but not kill," he told Stiles gently, standing close to him but
trying his best not to hover too badly. He didn't want to annoy Stiles or make
him nervous. When asked if he should go again, Derek nodded and gave a small
smile. "Sure, if you'd like to go again you can. Before you shoot, try to take
into consideration which way the wind is blowing and how hard. If there's just
a slight breeze and the target is close then you don't need to adjust that
much. If the target is further away and the wind is whipping at your clothes
then you may need to make aiming adjustments." Derek stepped in behind him and
gently raised Stiles' arms. "Look. You can use the trees as a guide. The
branches are swaying towards the right, your hair is blowing. So adjust your
aim slightly to the left of the bulls eye to counteract the wind blowing."
Stiles' eyes flickered around his surroundings as Derek pointed out various
things for him to notice. He took a deep breath, checking his stance and his
grip before taking his aim, slightly to the left like Derek said. He flicked
off the safety and took a shot, putting it back on almost as soon as the bullet
left the gun. He was a little closer to the bulls-eye this time, but still not
quite there. They continued, Derek making minor corrections and Stiles
following them perfectly. He was a fast learner. Each time he got closer and
closer to the middle of the target until he finally got a few near perfect
shots in a row. It had taken an hour or two to get to that point, mostly for
the instruction in between each shot, but Stiles found he didn't mind. When the
clip was empty, Stiles put the safety back on anyway and handed the gun back to
Derek. "I think I'm done with this for today," he said with a small smile. His
muscles were a bit achy from how tense he tended to be the seconds before
shooting the gun. He'd have to work on that. Maybe he could spar for a little
bit instead, since it was still light out.
Derek was impressed with how quickly Stiles learned but he supposed he
shouldn't be surprised. Stiles was incredibly smart on top of his good looks.
When Stiles finally flicked the safety back on and handed the gun to Derek,
Derek smiled at his mate gently. "Okay. You did great, Stiles. I'm really proud
of you," he said gently, ejecting the magazine and checking the chamber to make
sure there were absolutely no bullets left. He packed it all back up into it's
case and then tugged gently on Stiles' hand until he could wrap his arms around
the younger man. He nuzzled in against Stiles' neck and inhaled deeply; Stiles
smelt of gunpowder and lead and copper but under that was the scent of Derek's
shampoo in his hair and the crisp fresh scent that was all Stiles, electricity
and ozone and rain and something sharp that was unique to Stiles. When he
pulled back Derek kissed him sweetly before looking him over. "Are you done for
the day? Or do you want to try something else?" He asked, leaving it up to
Stiles to decide what he wanted to do.
Stiles felt himself blushing shyly as Derek tugged him back over to more or
less cuddle with him, mostly because he caught Erica waggling her eyebrows at
them. Still, he wrapped his arms around Derek in return and tilted his head to
let him get at his neck easily. It was almost strange how commonplace and
instinctual it all was now, how Stiles didn't even blink twice at a behavior
that wasn't entirely human. The nuzzling was kind of cute, if he was being
honest. He pulled Derek in for a quick second kiss before answering. "I mean,
we could do something else if you'd like," he said with a small shrug.
"We're still here!" Erica called over her shoulder.
"Wasn't talking about sex," Stiles called back.
"Sure you weren't," she answered with a laugh.
"I do know how to fight," Stiles said, addressing Derek again and ignoring
Erica, "I mean, against you guys it won't do me any good, but I can take down
humans pretty well."
Derek gave Erica an exasperated look and Kira giggled into her hand, the two
katanas she was working with sheathed at her hips. He focused back on Stiles
with a gentle smile and nodded. "I believe you. Why don't you practice with
Boyd. He'll be fair on you. Erica would just beat you up and Isaac would be too
afraid to bruise you," he suggested with a smirk. Erica pouted but Isaac nodded
his agreement sheepishly. Boyd took the suggestion with grace and went to put
away his daggers. "Start with the basics, make sure you remember it all, warm
yourself up before starting on the harder parts. I want to work with Kira a bit
on the katanas."
When Derek was done speaking, Erica and Isaac moved a ways away so that they
would have room to spar without getting in anyone else's way. Kira tossed Derek
one of the katanas, which Derek caught gracefully with a smile, and word of
thanks.
Stiles couldn't help but be a bit distracted with the sight of Derek holding a
sword. It was way hotter than he thought it would be. He didn't even notice
Boyd coming back from putting his daggers away, which led to his feet being
swept out from under him and him landing on the ground. Boyd stood over him,
hand outstretched. "Don't tell me you don't know rule number one," he teased.
"Don't get distracted," Stiles answered in a mocking tone, accepting Boyd's
helping hand.
"Good, now show me what you can do," Boyd said with a grin.
Stiles fighting was actually quite a thing to behold. He lost all the
clumsiness he had while playing sports or even just walking down the stairs.
His movements were fluid and calculated, graceful and smooth. He knew exactly
where each move would put him before he got there. He used his lean size and
long limbs to his advantage. Boyd restrained a great deal of his strength,
really only using what a human his size would have, and even though that was
still more than what Stiles possessed, he managed to take Boyd down more than
once. He'd had to take down bigger to get food for himself and his father on
more than one occasion.
Sword fighting was no joke and as much as Derek wanted to watch Stiles, he also
knew that he couldn't half ass sparring with Kira because she would cut off his
hand without hesitating. So he focused on dancing around Kira, parrying her
advances. In the back of his mind he registered Isaac and Erica stop what they
were doing to watch but he didn't bother telling them to get back to sparring.
He heard the back door open and then Kenna was stepping outside too.
A couple of times he beat Kira, knocking her katana away and leveling the point
of his blade between her eyes with a smirk. But Kira wasn't one to give up and
she didn't stop until she'd beaten Derek just as many times. The last time
though, Derek's sword ended up fifty yards away, Derek was on his back and
Kira's blade was in his forearm, pinning him to the ground. The pain burned
through Derek's veins but he chuckled and grinned, shaking his head.
"Alright, I surrender. Get this damn thing out of my arm, Firefox," he told
her, hissing lightly when she listened to him and removed the blade before
helping him up.
"I really wish you guys would refrain from stabbing each other," Kenna called
out, arms folded across her chest and hair messy from sleep.
"They heal," Stiles called to Kenna with a grin. It had been the mantra that he
kept telling himself every time Derek had gotten even remotely hurt. It was the
only thing that had kept him from rushing over there each time. Stiles never
took his eyes off Boyd. They had agreed that this would be their last fight and
Stiles was determined to win it. There was one thing he hadn't tried, something
he hadn't done in years and he wasn't sure if he could still do it. He had read
about it and seen pictures in a kung-fu book he had read once, but it had still
been a while. Stiles decided to try it anyway.
When Boyd came at him again, arms out as though to grab him, Stiles braced
himself on the other boy's forearms. He used the strength and momentum of his
body to twist himself up and around, getting his thighs secured around Boyd's
head. Stiles twisted his body and threw his weight down at the same time,
causing Boyd to fall with him, securely pinned by Stiles' legs.
"Holy shit," Erica said bluntly, watching them with raised eyebrows. Stiles let
Boyd up a moment later, breathing a bit heavily.
"To be honest, I'm surprised I could still do it," Stiles said, his own eyes a
little wide.
"Just remember I would've crushed you in a real fight," Boyd said with a good-
natured smile.
"Yeah, yeah Mr. Werewolf," Stiles answered with a grin, waving him off.
Derek ignored the blood still dropping down his wrist and off of his fingers as
he watched Stiles with huge eyes. It really shouldn't turn him on as much as it
did that Stiles took Boyd down so easily. He took deep breaths and got himself
under control before the other wolves picked anything up from him. As it was
Kira shot him a smirk but a flash of his eyes shut her up before she could say
anything.
Derek moved to Stiles' side and helped him up with a huge grin, unable to stop
himself from reeling him into a firm kiss. "You're amazing," he mumbled softly
when he broke away, brushing their noses together.
Stiles smiled when Derek came over to him, returning the kiss with a small note
of surprise. He hadn't really expected that kind of reaction. He blushed
slightly at Derek's words, a small smile on his lips as he bumped Derek's nose
in return. "Yeah, you're one to talk," he said softly, remembering that it
didn't really matter with all the werewolves around. He was still honestly kind
of amazed that he had been able to do it, and it had only worked because Boyd
happened to charge at him just right. Well, and because Boyd was bigger. Had he
been smaller than Stiles or around the same build like Isaac, then it would've
ended with the both of them getting hurt.
"Alright, alright," Kenna said with a grin, "What's the food situation here?
Who's hungry and what do they want to eat, because I could use some food and I
kind of want it to be take out."
"I'm cool with that," Stiles said, leaning into Derek's arms, wanting to be
closer to him.
Derek beamed at Stiles and stayed close to him, just enjoyed the proximity and
the slight racing of Stiles' heart from the strenuous physical activity. Derek
glanced over at Kenna when she spoke up and he shrugged, smiling more easily
than he had in a long time.
"You know I'm not picky and the others will eat anything edible you put in
front of them," Derek pointed out with a smirk.
"Can we have Chinese?" Isaac asked, going with Erica to put away their daggers
and packing up the rest of the weapons to be put back away in the safes.
"I'm good with Chinese," Stiles said, "Just make sure to get me some form of
chicken and loads of rice. I think I'm gonna go shower first." He was covered
in a light sheen of sweat and he just felt sort of sticky. Besides, if he took
care of it now, he wouldn't have to do it later. Part of him didn't want to
leave Derek, but that was ridiculous. They couldn't be together every second
and even if they could, that sounded extremely unhealthy.
"Bow chicka wow wow," Erica called, giving Stiles a wink when he turned his
head to glare at her.
"Is everything sexual with you?" he said with a slight sigh, cheeks pink.
"Not everything, but you make it too easy," Erica teased. Stiles just huffed.
Derek couldn't help but roll his eyes at Erica, licking his lips as he
contemplated asking Stiles if he maybe wanted some company. But he didn't want
to be overbearing or clingy. He could function perfectly well without Stiles at
his elbow even if he wanted to stay close to him now they knew what was going
on with them. He glanced at Stiles and squeezed his fingers gently. "I'll be
here when you're finished," he promised with a nod and small smile, eyes soft.
Kira, of course, decided to break that moment by jumping onto Derek's back and
practically tackling him over but he managed to catch his balance, hands going
to support her underneath her thighs.
"Enough of this sappy stuff, let's get inside," she ordered, pointing towards
the house and kicking Derek's thigh playfully. "Onward, my noble steed."
Derek snorted and instead of stepping forward, he bent at the waist and sent
Kira sprawling onto her back in the dirt. "You did this to me so if anyone is
getting carried in it's me," he told her with a smirk, showing her his arm,
which was still rather bloody though it had started to dry onto his skin in a
garish maroon color.
Stiles grinned at Kira's antics, jumping on Derek's back mere seconds after he
finished speaking. "But you'll carry me in right?" he said, batting his
eyelashes playfully, "I'm special." He was only teasing, even though it was
technically true. He wasn't the type to use something like this to his
advantage. Still, he wouldn't mind being carried into the house. He was an
incredibly lazy teenager after all.
Stiles kind of disconnected from the teasing and joking of the voices around
him as he rest his cheek against Derek's shoulder. It was firm and warm and
strong and Stiles held Derek just a little tighter. Everything about him made
Stiles want to be closer. He shut his eyes, just breathing in. Some might say
he was snuggling into Derek's shoulder, but Stiles would deny that at every
opportunity. Derek may have been speaking to someone, Stiles didn't know. He
didn't really care. He just pressed his face into Derek and sighed. Three
little words came out, barely able to be heard by Stiles' own ears, but he knew
Derek would hear them.
"I love you."
He didn't know why he suddenly felt the need to say it right then and there,
but Stiles didn't care. He just wanted Derek to know at that moment, before
anything could happen with his father or something worse, that Stiles loved
him.
Derek caught Stiles on his back and only stumbled slightly this time, hooking
his hands under his mate's thighs, glancing back at him over his shoulder. He
rolled his eyes and smirked but allowed it. "I guess so," he conceded and
ignored Kira's pouting, arms crossed over her chest as they all started filing
towards the house, Kenna disappearing presumably to call in their food orders.
Derek was talking with Boyd on the way in, easy and comfortable. He liked the
way he could feel Stiles' heartbeat through his own back, Stiles' breathing
warm on his shoulder as he nuzzled in close to Derek. It was ridiculously nice.
And when Stiles breathed out those three short words, Derek's breath hitched in
his throat and his heart sped up. Boyd raised his brows and then sped up to go
catch up with Erica, leaving Stiles and Derek with as much privacy as he could
give. Derek slowed his steps and tightened his hands against Stiles' legs,
taking a deep breath.
"I- yea? You mean that?" Derek asked quietly, looking over his shoulder as best
he could with wide hopeful eyes.
"Yeah," Stiles said with complete and utter surety, "Yeah I do. I love you." He
hadn't expected to mean it so wholeheartedly, nor had he expected to say it the
way he did, but it had just felt right. Sure, the moment wasn't perfect. There
was no string quartet or romantic lighting. Not even a rose petal in sight, and
yet Stiles couldn't dream of a more perfect time to tell Derek that he loved
him. They were together, close and happy, and Stiles could feel that it was the
truth in his heart.
The craziest bit was that Stiles didn't even need Derek to say it back. In
fact, Stiles wasn't really expecting him to. All that he needed was for Derek
to know that Stiles loved him, and anything beyond that would just be an extra
surprise. After all, it seemed like Derek was a bit shocked. The way he had
stopped, the look on his face. He definitely hadn't been expecting Stiles to
say it.
Stiles found himself wondering if it was like this for all soul bonds, this
absolutely indescribable feeling of contentment. He could scarcely imagine
living without Derek now. Being separated for a long period of time sounded
terrible, like the absolute worst thing that could happen. Stiles supposed it
was a double-edged sword that way. You either have indescribable happiness or
insurmountable pain. He found that the happiness was definitely worth it.
Derek let himself process that for a moment and then he slowly lowered himself,
letting Stiles stand back on the ground. Derek wanted to look at him when he
said it back. He cupped Stiles' jaw in one hand and ran his thumb tenderly over
his cheekbone, licking his lips and just staring at him for a moment. "Stiles,
I-" he started and his voice caught, making him blush slightly as he looked at
the younger man. He couldn't believe he was getting choked up. "I love you
too," he breathed out, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together, free
hand going to Stiles' hip just to hold onto him.
Weeks ago, he wouldn't have thought he'd ever be this lucky. If you had told
him before that he would meet his soul mate and fall in love at a breakneck
speed and decide that he couldn't live without this one person, well he'd have
tried to check you into a mental facility. But standing here with Stiles it was
all he could think about. He never wanted to have to live a day without Stiles
in his life.
That's also why it scared him to find Stiles' father. He was scared that the
man would hate him, would take Stiles away and go back on the run. Derek knew
Stiles cared about him deeply, loved him even apparently, but he wasn't under
any illusions that Stiles would choose him over his father. He would feel awful
if it ever came to that and he hoped like hell that he wouldn't. He was
terrified of losing Stiles.
"Can- can I join you? In the shower?" he asked, licking his lips. "We don't
have to do anything. I just don't want to let go of you now."
Stiles surged forward, following instinct and pressing a firm kiss to Derek's
lips. It felt right, almost like sealing a promise between them. They loved
each other. Sure, Stiles didn't have special hearing, but he didn't need it to
know that Derek was telling the truth. The way he was looking at Stiles was
proof enough of that. No one had ever looked at Stiles like that before and
probably never would again. If they did, Stiles had a strange feeling that
Derek would claw their eyeballs out of their head before they even had a chance
to see him coming.
Stiles laughed a little, blushing hotly as he looked at Derek. They would have
hell to pay from Erica if they showered together, but Stiles found that he
really didn't care. He would go through seven hells and back if it meant that
he could stay with Derek. "I don't want to let you go either," Stiles admitted,
his arms looped around Derek's neck, "Let's go shower." Erica could suck it. He
leaned up to give Derek another quick kiss before jumping up and wrapping his
legs around Derek's waist.
"Onwards, noble steed," he teased, brushing Derek's nose with his own as he
smiled. He really did love Derek and even if the older man's intentions were
pure, Stiles doubted they were getting out of that shower until both of them
came, something he had very little problems with.
Derek kissed Stiles back happily when he felt soft lips on his, sliding his
hand around to the back of Stiles' neck to keep him close. He knew that the
others were watching from inside; there was practically zero privacy when it
came to packs but Derek couldn't make himself care because Stiles was in his
arms and Stiles loved him and everything was finally seeming to go good in his
life. He'd have to tell Deaton to make sure that the first thing Stiles learned
as an emissary was how to defend himself against unwanted werewolves.
Derek smiled when Stiles admitted to not wanting to be apart either and then
caught him this time without stumbling when Stiles jumped into his arms. He
moved his hands down to support Stiles and if his hands happened to end up on
the younger man's ass, well that was just a bonus really.
"You're ridiculous," Derek told him but he did carry Stiles happily enough up
the porch and into the house. He ignored the others as they headed for the
stairs, not even pausing when he called out, "Going to shower. Don't wreck my
house while I'm gone."
"Have fun having sex!" Erica shouted after them, collapsing on top of Boyd with
a laugh while Boyd rolled his eyes fondly.
"Don't worry," Derek murmured to Stiles as he headed up the second set of
stairs to his own bedroom. "My room is sound proof so they won't be able to
hear anything."
Stiles was still blushing as Derek more or less ran through the house. There
were very little illusions about what was going on, something made glaringly
clear by Erica. Stiles wanted to say something about her being jealous, but he
just buried his face against Derek's shoulder instead. Having sex was awesome.
Having everybody know about it kind of sucked. It was weird at the very least.
That was probably the only thing Stiles missed about being surrounded by
humans. It was a little bit easier to keep secrets. There wasn't all this super
hearing and super smelling and super nosiness. Well, maybe there was nosiness,
but it was harder to act on.
"Good thing it's sound proof. We all know how good I am at staying quiet,"
Stiles teased. He kissed Derek's cheek sloppily before jumping down from the
man's arms. He would be the last to admit it, but he missed Derek's hands on
him already. To remedy that, Stiles stripped down at lightning speed, until he
was only in his boxer-briefs.
"Catch me if you can," he said with a wink before taking off, sprinting across
the large room towards the bathroom. He knew that Derek would have almost no
hope of resisting his instincts to chase after Stiles. He really did plan on
showering a little bit before they got down and dirty though. Well, maybe
rinsing off would be a more accurate term. Stiles wondered if they would even
have the patience for soap. He certainly wouldn't. Teenage boys really didn't
have the patience for anything.
Derek couldn't help watching with greedy eyes as Stiles stripped down in front
of him, baring more and more of his skin until he was reduced to his boxers and
Derek's fingers itched to touch. When Stiles took off running for the bathroom,
Derek couldn't help but give chase, catching Stiles by the waist just before
the door and swinging him into his arms. He pushed Stiles back into the
bathroom - careful not to hurt him - and kicked the door closed before pushing
Stiles against it, pressing their mouths together in a heated kiss. He ran his
hands over Stiles' skin avariciously, clutching at him tightly and pushing up
against his body as tightly as he could manage without crushing him.
He trailed heated, open-mouthed kisses down Stiles' neck to his collarbone,
breathing heavily. "I- I meant what I said," he rasped out. "We don't have to
do anything you don't want to do. We can just- just get clean if you want." But
even as he talked, Derek's hands were sliding down Stiles' back and underneath
the elastic of his boxers, grasping at the firmness of his ass and pulling him
forward so Derek could rock his hips into him. "Just tell me to stop and I
will."
Stiles returned the kiss eagerly pressing up against Derek where Derek was
pressing down against him. The instant heat between them was incredible and
Stiles had never felt anything like he felt when he was with Derek. The
strength, the heat, the passion that Derek gave off drove Stiles insane. His
willingness to put his own desires aside for Stiles' needs was a nice bonus and
he doubted that there were a lot of guys that would really say that and mean
it.
Stiles' hands were grasping desperately at Derek's shoulders, nails digging
into the fabric of the shirt that Derek was still wearing for some reason. He
let out a high-pitched gasp when he felt Derek's hands against his bare ass,
practically lurching forward just as Derek rocked down against him. Stiles
moaned pathetically at the contact, craving more. He rolled his own hips up
against Derek again and again, his moans growing louder as he did, sliding his
hands up to tangle in Derek's hair as he did so.
"The last thing I am going to tell you to do is stop," Stiles gasped, eyes shut
tight as he moved against Derek. Honestly, he could be fine with just Derek
just staying still and Stiles using his body to get off. Derek didn't even have
to do anything if he didn't want to, proven as Stiles moved against the older
man with abandon.
Derek was ridiculously glad that Stiles pretty much told Derek not to stop so
he definitely would not be stopping anytime soon. He reached behind Stiles to
lock the door and then pulled away just long enough to pull the sweaty tank top
off his body, flinging it aside before diving back in against Stiles, savoring
the way Stiles' skin felt against his own and the way their hearts were beating
rapidly, not quite in unison but the rhythm they gave off was like music to
Derek's ears. He kissed Stiles again and without breaking their lips apart,
reached between them to undo his own jeans, kicking out of his shoes until he
was just as naked as Stiles was.
He pulled away and grabbed at the elastic on Stiles' boxers, tugging him
towards the shower with a smile. He pushed them down Stiles' legs and then his
own until they were both naked as the day they were born, erections on full
display. Derek turned on the water until it was the perfect temperature and
then pulled Stiles under the hot spray with him, closing the door. He pulled
Stiles close again and kissed him, rocking his hips forward slowly and making
soft whining noises in the back of his throat. He wanted to go slow though,
drag it out a little.
He knew they needed to get clean because they were both sweaty and Derek needed
to wash the blood and dirt off of his arm and hands but he was too eager to
touch Stiles' body. They could wash up after they'd both come at least once. He
scraped blunt human nails down Stiles' back until he got his hands back on his
ass, gripping tightly as he ground their hips together, cocks scraping
deliciously and relieving a bit of the tension.
"Fuck, Stiles," Derek groaned, nipping at Stiles' ear lobe. "What do you want?
Anything. Anything you want. I- I'm yours okay?"
Stiles pretty much let Derek take the lead. Not only was it hot, seeing how
eager he was, but also it was a bit of a confidence booster. He barely noticed
the heat of the water as he pounded down against him, only noticing the heat
that Derek was giving off, the sounds Derek was making, the way Derek's hands
felt, the desperation of Derek's words. Stiles was positively clinging to
Derek, loud, high moans dropping from his slack jaw nearly every time they
moved together. He didn't bother being quiet. He used to have to be quiet all
the time in the encampment. There was no way do have some alone time if
everyone could hear you. Now though, safe behind soundproof walls and the
pounding of the water against the shower floor, Stiles just let go.
Unfortunately, that included his mouth.
"You're gonna have to fuck me," Stiles heard himself say, "Maybe not like right
here because shower sex seems a little dangerous with the slipperiness and
stuff and not to mention the lack of lube and I'm not really down with using
soap but good god do I want you to fuck me. Just, fuck, I don't care what you
do just don't stop once you start. Even just moving against you, I could do it
for the rest of my life I swear Derek. Your cock is fucking magic. Oh my
fucking god, you know maybe I should stop talking. Why don't you start talking?
Yeah, I like that. I like your voice, it's hot. Just, just tell me what to do."
Stiles was gone, instinctual and incoherent. He wasn't even completely sure if
he had formed real sentences when he had been babbling but he didn't care. He
was sure that the important bits had made sense. He had been rolling his hips
against Derek's the entire time that he had been talking, which he decided was
a major feat considering he made it through his entire weird stream of
consciousness.
Derek's eyes flashed red without his permission when Stiles said he wanted
Derek to fuck him, a low snarl ripping its way out of his chest but it wasn't
in anger or aggression, rather with a sense of pride and approval. He kissed
Stiles fiercely, claiming his mouth and letting himself go completely, no
holding back. He held onto Stiles tightly as he licked into his mouth, nipping
at his plush lower lip and teasing him. He ran one hand over Stiles' ass and
then between the crease, teasing fingers against his entrance. Stiles was right
about the no lube thing but shower sex would definitely be fun and something to
try another time. Derek wouldn't let them fall and hurt themselves.
"We'll try shower sex another time," Derek grumbled low in his throat, biting
gently at Stiles' pulse point and leaving a nice sized mark that claimed Stiles
as his own. "Right now I want to try something else though."
He gently took Stiles by the shoulders and turned him around, pressing his
mouth heatedly to the back of his neck. Slowly he kissed his way down Stiles'
spine until he stopped at the crease of his ass, kneeling behind him. He
pressed a hand low on Stiles' back and rumbled deep in his chest. "Bend over a
little bit," he instructed until Stiles' ass was presented to him beautifully
and he could use his hands to part Stiles' cheeks. Without waiting, Derek
leaned forward and licked a hot stripe over his hole, eyes closing as he
breathed in the pure and heady scent that was all Stiles, mouthing over his
entrance greedily.
Stiles had no idea that the werewolf half of things would be as much of a turn
on as it was, but when he saw Derek's eyes and he heard that animalistic noise
being torn from his throat, well Stiles nearly came right there. He kissed
Derek eagerly, keeping up as well as he could, presenting his neck when Derek
moved to attack it. God, this was fucking amazing.
He turned around when Derek told him to, though he was a little embarrassed
when he felt Derek going lower and lower. He gasped a bit when he felt Derek's
large hands pushing his cheeks apart, face pink, embarrassed for half a second
before he felt the first swipe of Derek's tongue.
"Oh dear god," Stiles moaned, bracing his hands against the shower walls, head
dropping between his shoulders, "Fuck, Derek. Oh my fucking Christ." Stiles had
never felt anything like this before, having someone so close to a part of him
that most people never really wanted to be close to. The heat of Derek's tongue
against his hole made him whine. He might've pressed back against it if not for
Derek's hands holding him in place. Stiles lost control of his mouth, a litany
of moans and whimpers falling from his lips along with incoherent words and
sentences. "I'm going to give you the fucking blowjob of your life after this,"
Stiles tried to say, half of his words being drowned out by the moans that
followed, "I will suck your goddamn brain out through your dick, I swear.
Derek!"
Derek loved hearing Stiles' pleasured incoherent babbling. It was practically
the best part of sex...well besides the actual sex part. Derek really really
enjoyed the actual sex part because he loved being allowed to be that close to
Stiles.
He mouthed against Stiles' hole until he was more relaxed and then pressed a
thumb there, gently pushing in just to the first knuckle until he could put his
tongue there beside it, licking inside, helping him relax. He reached around
Stiles' hip to wrap the fingers of his free hand around Stiles' dick, tugging
at it slowly as he pleasured him.
Any embarrassment Stiles may have had about what was happening completely fell
away as he was overcome with pleasure. It was incredibly intimate and Stiles
was struck with the thought that this was the person he loved doing this to him
that loved him in return. It took approximately five seconds after that
realization before Stiles was coming with a shout of Derek's name. Come
spattered against the wall only to be washed away seconds later by the stream
of water still coming from the shower. Stiles panted, leaning against the wall
for a moment to come down from his high before he was trying to get Derek to
stand up again. He slammed their lips together for a brief moment before Stiles
spun them and pressed Derek against the wall, already sliding to his knees.
Derek let out a pleasured growl when Stiles came, shouting out Derek's own
name. It was fucking fantastic is what it was, hearing Stiles come and smelling
it, knowing that he was the reason for Stiles' pleasure. He got to his feet
obediently when Stiles tugged at him and obedient was something he hadn't been
called in a very long time. He kissed Stiles back eagerly and with abandon,
tossing all of his worries out the window and focusing solely on the man in his
arms, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. When Stiles
switched their positions and got to his knees, Derek could barely hold back a
possessive growl as he brushed Stiles' hair from his forehead so that he could
see his face, watch him as he sucked Derek off like he'd promised. Stiles was
nothing if not a man of his word.
Stiles just went straight for it, licking up the underside of Derek's cock with
the flat of his tongue. He wasn't entirely sure of what he was doing, but he
knew the basics. Keep your teeth out of it and using your tongue was never a
bad thing. He supposed that everything else changed case-by-case depending on
what a person liked, so Stiles resolved to try everything he could think of to
see what would make Derek moan. He started off easy, just getting as much as he
could fit and using his hand on whatever was left over. Stiles bobbed his head,
hollowing out his cheeks when possible, paying special attention to the
sensitive head, watching for all of Derek's reactions. He hoped that for what
he lacked in finesse he made up for in enthusiasm.
Now Derek had had blowjobs in his life. It wasn't hard to walk into a bar and
pick someone up for the night, especially not with the way he looked, and he'd
done it enough times in his past to know the way around the block. He hadn't
done that in a couple of years though because of how empty it always left him
feeling when he snuck out of whoever's bed and got dressed and left without
giving his phone number. But even if Stiles wasn't versed in giving blowjobs,
he was doing a damn good job of it. Derek's knees felt like Jell-O and he
trembled slightly, unable to hold back the noises clawing their way out of his
throat. He moaned and groaned, whimpered when he felt Stiles' tongue against
the sensitive underside of the head. It felt fucking fantastic and Derek knew
he wouldn't last long. But he'd hold back at least a little while longer so he
could relish the way Stiles was making him feel in that moment.
Stiles had never really completely understood the pleasure he could get from
pleasuring someone else until that moment right then, with Derek falling apart
above him. He worked him, pulling every trick that he could think of, repeating
the ones that seemed to get good responses. It was strange, the heavy weight on
his tongue, the heat, the taste, but Stiles found that he liked the way it made
Derek feel. This was for him, and that alone made Stiles happy. With that
thought, he renewed any enthusiasm that may have flagged, going down on Derek
with abandon. Despite the water from the shower, Stiles glanced up at Derek
through his lashes, water making them clump together as he watched Derek moan
above him. It was heady, knowing that he was the one doing that to Derek.
Derek gasped and fell apart under Stiles' attention, barely holding onto what
little control he had left. He took his hand away from Stiles' head as his
nails lengthened into claws and his eyes went red but he kept the shift at bay
as best he could, digging his claws into his palms until they returned to
normal. He was panting and he knew he was close, knew that he wouldn't last
much longer. Making sure that his nails were back to human he tugged gently on
Stiles' hair, jaw open and soft little whines of pleasure escaping. "Fuck, fuck
Stiles ,I'm close, I'm- you- if you don't want me to come in your mouth you
should- should pull off," he warned, not wanting to catch Stiles by surprise.
If Stiles didn't want Derek to come in his mouth then Derek wouldn't make him.
It didn't make a difference to him. The idea of Stiles swallowing was
ridiculously hot but he knew Stiles might not be ready for that. On the flip
side, seeing his come on Stiles' chin and chest would be just as arousing so it
was really a win-win situation either way for Derek.
Hearing Derek speak like that was... incredible. He just sounded so broken by
pleasure and Stiles felt a moan of his own building in his throat. He wasn't
sure what to do about Derek's warning. Did he want to pull off or did he want
to try swallowing? He wasn't really sure which would be better, though pulling
off would definitely be easier. Then again, when had Stiles ever taken the easy
road. He resolved to continue on until Derek came and if he couldn't swallow
after all, then he could just pull off then. Easy peasy. Stiles lapped at the
head, hollowing out his cheeks and humming as his hand worked on the rest of
Derek's cock. He had seen the way Derek was having trouble controlling the
shift and he wanted to see what happened when he came.
When Stiles just kept going Derek groaned again because fuck. Stiles was going
to try to swallow and that was... that was fucking awesome. He didn't bother
holding back any of the noises he was making, too focused on staying human as
Stiles worked him over good with his mouth. His orgasm hit him by surprise and
Derek snarled out loudly, claws sprouting once more, and he dug them into the
tile wall behind him. Derek could hear the porcelain tile cracking as he came
with cry, Stiles' name falling from his lips, spilling onto Stiles' tongue. He
was panting, gasping for air for his poor deprived lungs as his legs finally
gave out beneath him. His cock slipped from Stiles' mouth and he slid to the
floor of the shower, breathing heavily as he reached out to drag Stiles closer
to him, practically force-cuddling him right there on the shower floor.
Derek's orgasm hit Stiles by surprise and he sputtered a little bit, but he
thought that he managed a good amount before moving to pull away, seconds
before Derek slid to the floor. Stiles had to laugh at the way that Derek
practically wrapped himself around him, snuggling the life out of him. Stiles'
arms were kind of squished and he couldn't really move, but he rest his head
against Derek's chest, happy to be cuddled. It showed that Derek really did
care about him and not just about the sex, which Stiles already knew of course,
but it was nice to have a little reassurance. Though, doing it on the shower
floor was a little weird, Stiles could work with it. They were all a little
weird. "So... good?" Stiles asked, voice a little hoarse. It was sort of
pointless to ask, considering that Derek had come. That meant it had to be at
least somewhat good, but pointers couldn't hurt for the future.
Derek smiled into Stiles' hair and then nodded. "Perfect. You're perfect," he
breathed out and loosened his arms, manhandling Stiles gently into his lap and
then pressing his face into Stiles' neck. Derek was a touchy feely person when
it came to people he trusted and loved, should they allow him to be close to
them. He was beyond glad Stiles allowed him this proximity and intimacy. He
inhaled at Stiles' skin deeply, ingraining Stiles' scent to his memory. His
nails had gone back to human and he licked at the water clinging to Stiles'
skin, holding him tightly. "I love you, Stiles," he whispered softly, pulling
away to look at the younger man with big earnest eyes, expression slightly
vulnerable.
Stiles let Derek do his thing, adjusting himself so that the werewolf had an
easier time of nuzzling and scenting him. Honestly, he enjoyed the closeness of
it as well. It made him feel wanted, which he knew he was when Derek pulled
back to look at him with those eyes, whispering those words. It was still kind
of like a punch to the gut to hear them, but a good punch. The kind that
reminded you what it felt like to be alive, short of breath and exhilarated.
Stiles pressed their foreheads together, running his fingers through Derek's
damp hair. "I love you too, Derek," he murmured, the words flowing easily from
his lips now that he had already said them. They stayed like that until the
water went lukewarm and Stiles was prune-y and slightly shivering. "Come on,"
he said softly, "I don't like cold Chinese unless it's been in the fridge for a
day."
Derek smiled and pressed a sweet kiss to Stiles' lips, brushing their noses
together. "You make no sense to me," he informed him but gently helped Stiles
up. He fiddled with the water until it got warmer again and made quick work of
washing himself and Stiles down, scrubbing shampoo into Stiles' hair and then
helping him rinse it out. When they were all clean, Derek shut off the water
and reached out for their towels, wrapping one around Stiles' shoulders and
rubbing his arms to get him warm. It took a lot to make Derek cold seeing as
how he usually ran at a toasty hundred and nine point five on a normal day. He
was always warm so he was more than happy to share that warmth with Stiles.
"I'm going to have to retile that," Derek said with a soft sigh, looking back
in at the several cracked tiles in the shower.
"No," Stiles said with a fond smile, looking over at the same spot, "I'm
actually kind of proud of that. I unleashed the animal." He laughed, kissing
Derek's cheek before leaving the bathroom. He rooted around his clothes for a
clean pair of underwear and sweatpants. Without even thinking, he went over to
Derek's dresser and stole one of his shirts. It just kind of seemed like the
thing to do. He walked back over to where he had dropped his towel and picked
it up, running it over his hair a few times to try and dry it. It was weird,
having longer hair. He had had it for a while now, but every now and then he
sort of missed his buzz cut. It was certainly easier if nothing else. Stiles
went over to a mirror to make sure that his hair didn't look too ridiculous
when he caught sight of one hell of a hickey that Derek had left behind. "Well,
someone wants to make things obvious," he joked, running his fingers over the
mark lightly.
Derek practically preened when Stiles put on one of his shirts without thinking
about it. He loved when Stiles wore his clothes, when he smelled like him. He
got his own boxers on and pulled on a pair of loose sweat pants, glancing over
when Stiles spoke. Derek smirked when he saw the mark Stiles was talking about
and approached behind him, arms snaking around his waist and chin resting on
his shoulder. "I like knowing that people will know that you're taken," he
hummed quietly, pressing a kiss below Stiles' ear and then biting on his own
lower lip. "Stay here. I mean, up here. In my room. Stay with me? I'll clean
out some drawers for you. Or we could get you your own dresser but just. Stay?"
"You say that like I planned on leaving," Stiles said with a grin, leaning back
into Derek's hold, placing his hands over the older man's. Honestly, he had
been dreading the thought of Kenna finishing up his room, though he now felt a
tad guilty for having her do all that work for nothing. Maybe they could turn
the room into something else so that it would get some use? Stiles didn't know.
All he knew was that he was going to share a space with Derek and nothing could
make him happier.
"Alright, I don't care how in love you two are or how close you need to be, you
can cuddle downstairs because I have had to protect your food bodily for the
past fifteen minutes," Kenna's voice came echoing through the door as she
knocked on it. Stiles laughed.
"We're coming, just give us a minute," he called back. He stood there for
another moment, just kind of looking at him and Derek together. "Let's get a
move on," he finally said, tugging Derek towards the door.
Derek held onto Stiles and smiled when he agreed to stay, pressing his face
into Stiles' neck like he was prone to doing. It wasn't his fault. He liked
being able to hear Stiles' heartbeat clearly and smell him close by. He nuzzled
in against the younger man and just held on until Kenna came knocking at the
door and demanding their presence downstairs.
"She can't hear you," Derek pointed out to Stiles with a chuckle and kissed his
cheek before pulling away almost reluctantly. "Sound proof remember?" He held
onto Stiles' hand and then led him to the door, happy to have him close and
smelling like him.
Stiles shushed Derek playfully when he pointed out his mistake, smiling the
entire time. It seemed that he couldn't stop. He had no reason to stop. Stiles
had everything to smile about right now. He was still smiling when they walked
into the kitchen together, still hand in hand. Erica wrinkled her nose
immediately.
"You guys smell like sex," she complained, "How am I supposed to eat now?"
"You're the one that told us to have fun," Stiles pointed out, "Never could
have done it without you." Erica made a face at him and threw a fortune cookie
at him. Stiles caught it with a grin.
"Really though, did you guys even make an effort not to?" Isaac asked, his nose
wrinkling a bit as well.
"Not really," Stiles said with a wide grin, "Though Derek, ever the gentleman,
did make the option known."
"What can I say? Consent is a thing," Derek responded with a shrug and a smirk,
pulling Stiles in close to press a firm kiss to his cheek.
Erica wrinkled her nose at Derek and then relaxed, shaking her head. "I could
keep complaining about this but you're actually looking happy for the first
time in probably ever so I'll let it go," she said, peering into Boyd's takeout
container and stealing a bite of his chicken.
"It's kind of weird though," Isaac commented with a little furrow of his brow,
looking at Derek speculatively. "I'm kind of waiting for him to snap and go
back to growling at us instead of communicating with words."
Derek blushed and scowled at them all, leaning slightly into Stiles' side as
Kenna came back out of the kitchen with the remaining food. "I don't know why I
ever had you lot turned," he grumbled.
Stiles turned and pressed one last kiss to Derek's cheek before wiggling away.
Kenna nodded towards his containers and he claimed them gleefully, popping them
open and grabbing a pair of chopsticks. He sat down cross-legged on one of the
chairs and dug in, groaning slightly. He really did love takeout food.
"You clearly turned Erica because she's a bad ass, Boyd because he's level-
headed, and Isaac because of that baby angel face," Stiles said with his mouth
full of food. Kenna shot him a look that said she thought his table manners
were despicable. Stiles just smiled at her.
"Yeah, so why's he gonna turn you?" Erica said, eyebrows raised, a smile on her
lips. Stiles froze for a moment.
"As far as I know, I'm remaining human," he said after a moment, "But should I
ever be turned, it's clearly because I am the bad ass of all bad asses. Plus I
have brains." Stiles had tried to make a joke out of it, but the thought
unsettled him a bit. Did the rest of the pack expect him to choose the bite
eventually? Not that Stiles thought being a werewolf was bad, but he was pretty
sure that he didn't want to be one.
Derek gave Erica a look and shook his head as he finished chewing the giant
bite of Mongolian beef he'd put in his mouth. "Stiles isn't being turned. He's
going to be trained by Deaton to be our emissary," he told her, sitting in the
seat beside Stiles and bumping their knees together under the table gently. "Of
course, should he ever decide on his own that he wants the bite, I would
consider it."
Boyd nodded thoughtfully as he ate a fried wonton, looking between Stiles and
Derek. "I dunno. I like Stiles as a human. I think it'd be weird if he was a
werewolf," he said and then fixed his gaze on Stiles. "No offense or anything.
You'd probably make a good werewolf. But I'm used to you being human."
"Plus it's kind of like a cool contrast between you and Derek," Kenna added,
grinning as she popped a piece of broccoli into her mouth, not bothering to
swallow before she continued with her mouth full. "Like you're the human
emissary and Derek's the big bad alpha but you ground each other and stuff. You
know how to tame the beast and Derek knows how to make you stronger."
The contact with Derek made Stiles immediately felt better and he smiled to
himself as he pressed back against Derek. He chuckled at Kenna's words, digging
through his carton of food for the good bits.
"I tame the beast," Stiles repeated slowly, "I think I definitely need that on
a t-shirt. What do you think Derek? I think it'd be hot." He gave Derek a
joking wink.
"Ewwww," Erica and Kira said together before laughing against one another.
"Is that a challenge I hear?" Stiles asked, eyebrows raised. He put down his
carton of food and removed the carton from Derek's hands as well. He gave Erica
and Kira a pointed look before cupping Derek's face gently and leaning forward.
Stiles pressed their lips together before biting lightly on Derek's bottom lip
until he parted his lips so that Stiles could slip his tongue inside. He
continued to kiss Derek until a fortune cookie hit him in the face.
"You guys are gross," Erica said, her face scrunched up in mock disgust.
Part of Derek wanted to protest that they really shouldn't be flaunting their
relationship all over the place and making out or feeling each other up in
front of the others. But that was a very small part. The bigger part of Derek
wanted nothing more than to get his hands on Stiles.
He let Stiles take the food from his hands - which shouldn't be taken lightly,
Derek loves his food - and leaned into him instinctively, kissing back happily.
His heart raced for a second before evening out and he relaxed into Stiles'
hands, opening his mouth when Stiles coaxed him to.
He was a bit dazed when the kiss broke and he grinned at Stiles widely,
reaching up to brush his fingers through Stiles' hair. "Anytime you wanna make
a point, I'm there for you," he promised with a wink.
Stiles smiled and pressed one last chaste kiss to Derek's lips before sitting
down again and resuming his eating. It was weird, knowing that he could kiss
Derek whenever he wanted, touch him, love him, just have him around. Derek was
his and he was Derek's and it was one of the weirdest feelings Stiles had ever
had. Sure, he'd always had his dad but it was different. They were family. He
and Derek had more or less chose each other and yet Stiles had never felt a
stronger bond with anyone.
"So what's our schedule for tomorrow?" Stiles asked, wanting to know what was
going on, "Possibly for the next week? Also, what chores am I supposed to be
doing? Also also, I vote for a movie marathon until we all pass out after
dinner. Also also also, someone needs to pass me some more white rice please."
Derek counted on his fingers to see what the next day's date was and what day
it would he before frowning. "I have to go into work tomorrow," he answered,
looking back at Stiles. "You could come with me or you could hang around here
or go to my parents' and see Scott? Whatever you want."
"Derek's office is pretty cool," Erica hummed thoughtfully with a smile. "The
view is gorgeous. If you don't go tomorrow you should definitely visit
sometime."
"He does have a really nice view from his office," Isaac agreed with a nod,
passing Stiles the carton of white rice and pushing the soy sauce towards him
just in case he wanted that too.
"I'm down for movies," Kira added with a wide smile, beaming at Stiles. "Can we
watch Marvel movies? I just got a copy of the second Captain America movie."
Stiles was only slightly ashamed to admit where his thoughts went when he heard
that Derek had to go into the office. First there was a bit of disappointment,
then there was consideration, and finally there was the fantasies. Teasing
Derek from under his desk while he was working. Having sex with Derek while
Stiles was bent over his work desk. A high flush rose on Stiles' cheeks and he
practically shoved his face into his carton while he ate until his face went
back to normal.
"I mean, we can figure out if I go or not later," he said dismissively,
ignoring the way that Kenna was looking at him somewhat knowingly, "And I'm
good for any movies, seeing as I've seen basically none of them." Sometimes,
now that he was surrounded with this sort of life, Stiles forgot for a moment
that he grew up in a tent for the better part of his life. He forgot that he
didn't know everything like all the flavors of soda or all the types of snacks
they had or what the popular movies were. Now that he was dwelling on it, he
suddenly felt a little inadequate for no reason at all. "Kenna, can I cook
dinner tomorrow?" he asked, wanting to prove himself.
"Sure," Kenna said with a shrug, "Do you need anything specific?"
"Just a whole trout," Stiles said, figuring he could find anything else he
needed in the kitchen.
Derek could smell Stiles' arousal and he smirked to himself smugly, knowing
that it was him who made Stiles smell like that. He could only imagine the
things Stiles was thinking about and he made a mental note to ask Stiles about
it later. Just to confirm his suspicions. All he could think about himself was
getting Stiles naked in his chair and riding him hard.
Derek had to clear his throat and take a long drink of water to clear his head,
ears flushing pink as Erica, Isaac and Boyd all gave him flat, unimpressed
looks. Kira looked blissfully ignorant because her nose wasn't as good as the
others so Derek's emotions were pretty much his own when it came to her. He
couldn't remember why he'd decided to teach the others how to tell different
emotions apart. If he could go back and reverse that he would.
"We'll figure it out later," Derek agreed, squeezing Stiles' leg gently and
giving him a reassuring smile.
"I'm going to get you all caught up on all the pop culture okay?" Kira told
Stiles with a grin. "We'll start with the Marvel superhero movies tonight."
The rest of dinner passed contentedly, with easy conversation flowing between
everyone. For the most part, Stiles just sat silently as he stuffed his face
but when he did speak, the others accepted him into the fold easily. It struck
him, just how easy it was for him to integrate himself into the pack. He felt
like it should be more difficult, but he supposed that once you got Alpha
approval then the rest was easy. Unless you were a huge dick of course, which
Stiles wasn't.
When everyone was done, Kira skipped off to get all the movies together while
Erica and Isaac ran to pick prime spots on the couch.
"I'll clean up," Stiles insisted, standing so he could start grabbing empty
containers. He could see Derek opening his mouth to protest, but Stiles pushed
him out of the room, coming back in to so the same to Kenna and Boyd. Once the
kitchen was empty, Stiles set about cleaning up after dinner. He also managed
to figure out how to make the popcorn without burning it. He grabbed a bowl and
made a couple of bags before grabbing enough sodas for everyone and heading out
to the living room. He put the food on the coffee table and saw that basically
every seat was taken. He hesitated for half a second before plopping himself
down on Derek's lap and getting comfortable. "Let's get this party started."
Derek wanted to protest Stiles cleaning up but Stiles just pushed them all out
of the kitchen insistently which was pretty bold for a human to push a pack of
werewolves out of a kitchen. But the others went easily because Stiles was
undoubtedly a part of the pack now. So Derek went to sit on the couch and stole
the remote from Erica and Isaac who were fighting over it, handing it to Kira
instead who beamed at him. Derek smiled back at her and chose a spot on the
love seat, intending to save it for Stiles, but Erica came to sit next to him
with a grin and he couldn't kick her out of it.
Then Stiles came back and Derek beamed at him, catching him around the waist
when he flopped into Derek's lap and Derek kissed his nape.
"I changed my mind," Erica declared and got up to go sit squished in close to
Boyd, wrinkling her nose at the couple.
Derek smirked at her but he kept Stiles in his lap, not wanting to let him go
as he nuzzled against Stiles' neck and shoulder while the disc menu played.
"Okay, we're gonna start you on the first Iron Man movie and then The
Incredible Hulk and then Iron Man 2, then Thor, then Captain America," Kira
told Stiles with a grin, pointing at the screen. "It's great because these
superheroes are all mostly human. None of them are werewolves. Well some of the
actors are werewolves but yea. Some people don't like it that they're not
werewolves or something else but I think it makes it even better."
Stiles smiled when Derek kissed his neck and it widened into a grin when Erica
moved away. He turned to look at Derek with his triumphant smile. Even though
the seat next to Derek was now open, Stiles decided that he would stay in
Derek's lap. They could cuddle without being completely gross. Hopefully.
Stiles spread his legs out more but he stayed nestled in Derek's arms. It made
him feel safe and comfortable.
"I trust your judgment," Stiles said to Kira, and moments later she popped the
first movie in. Stiles was actually kind of excited to start his pop culture
education. He didn't know just how much he had missed out on, but movies he was
especially excited about. Sure, books were great and Stiles would always love
to read, but movies were watching the story unfold before your eyes. It was
watching someone's interpretation of a story coming to life and for Stiles that
was kind of an amazing experience.
"Try not to have sex," Erica said as Isaac got up and flipped off the lights.
"I make no promises," Stiles said, though he would definitely refrain from
doing anything besides cuddling. He was actually interested in seeing how these
movies played out. He snuggled further into Derek's arms, leaning his head
against the werewolf's chest and lacing their fingers together where Derek's
were resting on Stiles' stomach as the first movie started.
***** Chapter 12 *****
Derek snorted softly at Stiles' and Erica's interaction but he didn't bother
saying anything. He'd seen all of these movies before because Kira and Erica
insisted on movie nights at least twice a week. So Derek had nothing to miss
out on as he tuned out the movie to listen to Stiles' heartbeat instead. He
nuzzled against his neck but didn't try to kiss him or distract him from the
movie. He could tell how excited Stiles was to get caught up on all the things
he'd missed and Derek wanted that for him too.
He breathed in Stiles' scent deeply, loving the way that their scents were
becoming more and more indistinguishable from each other's though there was
still the slight difference between them. Stiles' scent held a bit more of an
ozone/rain tinge to it due to his potential as an emissary and Derek's scent
was a bit wilder, more woodsy and cedar-like. Still, the more time they spent
touching each other and living close to each other and making love, it rubbed
off a bit more on each of them, Derek starting to smell more like Stiles and
vice versa.
Somehow during the movie, he and Stiles shifted down into a horizontal position
with Derek being the big spoon behind Stiles, arm around his waist and fingers
laced together over Stiles' stomach. Derek pressed his nose to Stiles' neck and
it didn't take long before Derek was dozing off peacefully while Tony Stark
fought with another guy in a giant metal suit that was a bit bigger but
definitely not as cool.
Derek was definitely down for cuddling, something he proved seconds after the
movie had started. He held Stiles tightly in his arms, nuzzling, almost
snuffling against his neck. Stiles thought it was cute. Part of him wished that
he could smell the same things that Derek could, but at the same time he felt
like their relationship was pretty intense without all that. From what Derek
had explained a few days ago, soon he and Stiles would smell so much like each
other that it would be difficult to tell them apart by scent alone. Every
werewolf in their vicinity would know immediately that they were together and
the possessive side of Stiles absolutely loved that, so he was content to let
Derek do what he wanted.
The movies were pretty amazing. The special effects and all those sorts of
things were pretty breathtaking and Stiles absolutely loved the soundtracks. He
kind of wanted to listen to all of them forever. He was getting more and more
excited as the movies went on, putting pieces together, and seeing how each
movie connected even in the subtle ways. It was great. He wasn't even getting
tired, solely focused on what was happening on the screen.
Stiles didn't even noticed that he and Derek had changed their position until
he felt Derek's grip go a bit slack in his hand. Broken from his trance, Stiles
paid more attention to Derek and realized that the werewolf had fallen asleep.
Stiles smiled and snuggled in close, making sure that he could still see the
screen. He was going to see all these movies tonight if it killed him. Still,
as the movie continued to play, Stiles got to wondering. Unable to stay his
curiosity, he turned his face a little bit until his nose was pressed against
Derek's neck and he took a whiff. All Stiles could smell was Derek. He couldn't
say exactly what that smell was, just that he knew it was Derek. It sent a shot
of comfort through Stiles and he turned back towards the movie, smiling.
Erica looked over at Stiles and Derek when Stiles shifted around and caught her
attention and she smiled softly at them. As much as she teased them about their
relationship and their sex life and how cheesy they were, she really was happy
that Derek had found someone who loved him as much as Stiles did. It was
obvious by the way they acted around each other, the way that Derek looked at
Stiles like he hung the moon and the way Stiles looked at Derek like he was
looking at the sun. It was sometimes a little gross when she could smell the
sex on them like a perfume and the blockbuster romantic drama movie worthy
stares of longing. But she could deal with that a little if she had too.
Derek shifted when Stiles did but he didn't wake up which wasn't surprising
anymore. Stiles was safe and familiar and Derek felt protected when they were
together. He knew how much Stiles cared about him and it was easy to trust
himself to Stiles when he was at his most vulnerable. He dreamt of a life spent
together, dreamt of finding Stiles' father and bringing him back, of a
revolution for humans where they didn't have to be slaves anymore and could
safely roam the cities without fearing assault or attack. He wanted that for
Stiles and he wanted that for Kenna, for every human being he'd ever met. They
were people too.
He tightened his arm around Stiles in his sleep, his subconscious telling him
that he wanted Stiles to be closer because closer meant that he was safe with
Derek. Derek didn't used to be scared of a lot of things. After almost dying,
death didn't scare him and he was almost ready for it at a point. But then
Stiles had come along and shown him that life, even in the miserable and fucked
up world they were living in, was worth living. Suddenly Derek's worst fear was
losing Stiles and he knew that he would go to any lengths to keep him safe even
if it meant sacrificing himself in Stiles' place, trading his life for Stiles'.
He mumbled incoherently without waking up, lips brushing at Stiles' nape and
then he let out a quiet sigh as he relaxed again.
"Love you," he whispered against Stiles' skin, the tension leaking from his
muscles as his dreams about losing Stiles faded into Derek being able to save
him and living out their lives happily together.
Stiles was completely engrossed in the movies again when he felt Derek's lips
moving against his skin. He paused, dragging his attention away from the movie
but then he realized that Derek was just mumbling in his sleep. Stiles smiled a
bit, tightening his hold on Derek's hand. He settled in to watch the rest of
the movie when he heard two very clear words and he stiffened up in surprise.
He couldn't tell if Derek was awake or asleep now, but Stiles got closer
anyway.
"Love you too," he murmured quietly, not caring if Derek was awake to hear him,
not caring if the others heard. He knew that he loved Derek and that was all
that really mattered. It seemed like Derek relaxed after that, snuggling more
into Stiles' neck whether he knew it or not and Stiles smiled. He'd never
expected that he would ever find anything like this. Something that was so all-
consuming that Stiles was pretty sure that he could be content with the rest of
his life if he saw no one but Derek until the day he died. Derek made him so
happy and he felt so complete when they were together. He was the best thing
that Stiles never knew he needed.
Soon, all the movies were over and everyone was droopy and tired. Stiles had
really enjoyed seeing them and he couldn't wait for the next marathon that Kira
set up for him. He was ready to watch everything.
"Do you need help?" Isaac whispered, looking at the way that Derek was snaked
around Stiles.
"It's fine, I'll wake him up and we'll go upstairs," Stiles whispered back.
Everyone else filtered out of the room and Stiles waited a few more minutes to
make sure that they were far enough away. He wiggled in Derek's arms until he
was facing the werewolf. Derek's features were relaxed in sleep and he looked
gorgeous. Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek's slack lips before he moved on,
kissing his cheek and his jaw and his neck. "Wake up," he murmured, "We have to
go up to bed." He continued to kiss Derek's neck, nibbling slightly on the
skin.
Derek had sort of started rousing when the others left but Stiles was still
there so his subconscious didn't see the need to wake him up more fully. If
something was going on Stiles would wake him up and tell him so he let himself
doze off completely again. Then Stiles was moving in his arms and he felt soft
lips on his skin that definitely were coaxing him into consciousness and he
made soft noises at the words Stiles spoke.
Finally he opened his eyes to look at the man in front of him dazedly,
obviously groggy. He registered the TV being off and the house empty. Kenna's
heartbeat was slow and steady upstairs in her bedroom and he glanced at the
clock to see it was nearing three in the morning. "Kay," he finally mumbled
back, forcing himself up when Stiles got up. He leaned heavily against Stiles'
back, arms around his waist and face smushed in the crook of his neck. "Lead
th'way," he breathed out sleepily, unwilling to let go for any reason.
"What do you mean lead the way?" Stiles said softly, laughing under his breath,
"You're like a bear. You think I can drag you through this house?" He was
mostly joking. He figured he could hobble through the house well enough. He
felt bad that Derek had to go to work the next morning and it was already so
late, so he wasn't going to make the werewolf get any more conscious than he
had to be. Stiles squeezed Derek's arms lightly before he started walking them
through the house towards the stairs. It was extremely awkward, having Derek
draped across his back, but it was kind of cute too. Almost like Derek was a
giant toddler.
Somehow, Stiles made it up the stairs to Derek's room, but he was huffing and
puffing by the end of it. He waddled over to Derek's bed and laid the werewolf
down on it. The weight being gone from his shoulders was actually kind of nice.
Stiles took off Derek's shoes and socks, along with his pants and his shirt,
leaving him to sleep in his underwear. Stiles went over to take off his own
clothes and put on a looser shirt to sleep in before brushing his teeth and
going to the bathroom. By the time he got back to the bed, Derek had wiggled
his way up to the pillows. Smiling, Stiles dragged the covers down and then
pulled them up over the both of them. He leaned over Derek, pressing a soft
kiss to his lips.
"Good night," he murmured.
Derek just mumbled incoherently and then Stiles eventually started to lead him
through the house, turning out lights as they went. He stumbled slightly going
up the stairs but he found a good rhythm to shuffle up behind Stiles. He fell
onto the bed and made noises of thanks in the back of his throat as Stiles
undressed him, eyes closed. But when Stiles went to move away, he circled
fingers around his wrist to bring him back. He forced his eyes open and placed
a sweet kiss on Stiles' mouth. "I love you," he mumbled sleepily as he let
Stiles go and gave a tired smile before rolling into the sheets to get
comfortable.
He made his way up the bed to bury his head in the pillows and he star-fished
out on the large mattress as he listened to Stiles puttering around in the
bathroom, brushing teeth and peeing and doing whatever else he did. When the
bed dipped to signal Stiles climbing in, Derek shifted to make room and he
pulled Stiles in close to him, returning the kiss he was given with a content
little sigh. He pressed in close and pushed his nose into Stiles' neck,
breathing in deeply as he snuck his hand under Stiles' shirt to touch his soft
skin.
"I love you too," he mumbled again, kissing the edge of Stiles' jaw as he
snuggled in and tightened his arm around the younger man. "Love you so much."
Derek was unbelievably cuddly when he was tired, though at the same time,
Stiles supposed that it was completely believable. If you weren't someone that
Derek was close to, it could be easy to make the mistake of thinking that he
was this big tough werewolf that growled all his words and frowned a lot. Of
course, the truth was that that couldn't be further from reality. Derek was
possibly the softest, squishiest person that Stiles had ever met. It was kind
of the world's best lesson on the whole not judging people based on outward
appearances thing. Derek also made Stiles think twice about how he had once
condemned all werewolves. Of course, it wasn't entirely his fault. It was how
he had been raised and he hadn't known any better. Now he did, and he wasn't
going to make the same mistake of allowing himself to be led blindly again. He
just wished that the rest of the world could see it that way.
"I love you too," Stiles murmured, "But you have to go to sleep. You have work
in the morning. Like at an office. You need a good night's rest." He wiggled a
bit in Derek's arms, getting himself into a comfortable position before he
nudged the covers down a little bit. Derek's body ran incredibly warm and he
would probably start sweating like a maniac if he stayed under the covers all
night while Derek was holding him. He pushed away the thoughts that had
returned when he started thinking about how Derek had to go work in his own
office in an official office building while he wore a business suit. This was
not the time to be thinking about that.
Derek grumbled incoherently when Stiles mentioned going to work. He used to
enjoy going to work or at least he didn't mind it. The work interested him and
he did enjoy being able to spend his time sketching out dream homes for
families, large buildings for companies as long as they didn't condone the
harsh treatment of humans. Derek never contracted out to people who beat and
abused humans. He was against it on principle. He was against hurting or
abusing anyone, honestly. He had been on the other side of the abuse before and
he knew that it could have turned him in one of two directions: he could've
continued on the abuse cycle and become an abuser himself or he could have a
strong fear of bringing anyone pain. He turned out to be the latter.
He was just drifting off to sleep but the sharp citrusy scent of Stiles'
arousal had Derek nuzzling against the back of his neck and sliding his hand
under Stiles' shirt a bit further. "What're you thinkin' bout?" he asked,
biting at Stiles' ear lobe and pressing closer. "Smell so good. Like me...like
sex." He mouthed down Stiles' neck and smiled against his skin, sleepy but
awake enough now that he could tell Stiles was interested in… something. He
hoped it was something to do with him.
Stiles had been able to feel Derek going to sleep when he suddenly was gaining
more awareness. The teenager bit down hard on his lip when Derek's hand slid
further along his skin, when Derek's teeth nibbled against his skin. Stiles
found himself distracted for a fraction of a second as he thought about what
sex smelled like and if it smelled different on each person or the same and
what it was like for Derek to smell himself on someone else. He knew that Derek
had to go to sleep so that he could go to work in the morning and not be
miserable, but his teenage libido didn't seem to care about that. As soon as
Derek started showing that he might be interested in doing a little something,
he perked up even further.
"Thinking about you," Stiles said honestly, "At the office. Working in your
business suit and everything. About you bending me over your desk. About me
sucking your cock while you sit in your office chair." With every word that he
spoke, he could feel himself getting harder just thinking about it. It really
was every teenager's most porny fantasy, to have sex in an office building. Now
that Stiles sort of might have the opportunity, he couldn't stop thinking about
it. He tilted his neck to the side so that Derek would have more room to
explore sleepily. He wasn't actually sure if they were going to do anything. If
not, then Stiles would have to slip off to the bathroom to take care of this,
but he figured he could get a little more comfortable in case they did start
something.
Derek groaned loudly with every word that Stiles spoke. He was definitely more
awake now. He rolled his hips forward so his erection pressed up against
Stiles' ass, showing him how interested he was in the proceedings. Now he was
going to go to work tomorrow and that would be all that he could think about.
He teased Stiles' nipples as he nipped at his neck and then slid his hand back
down, trailing in the soft dark hair below Stiles' naval. "I want that too," he
said in a rough voice, nudging aside the collar of Stiles' t-shirt to mouth at
his shoulder and bite at his collarbone. "I want to ride you on the couch in my
office." He slipped his fingers under the elastic waist of Stiles' boxer
shorts, reaching down until he could cup Stiles' balls in his palm, rubbing at
him. "I want to ride you right now," he admitted, kissing the nape of Stiles'
neck as he rolled his hips forward again, groaning softly. "Would you let me?"
Stiles' eyes had fluttered closed when he felt Derek's hard cock pressing
against him. Oh something was definitely happening tonight, work in the morning
be damned. He gasped slightly when he felt Derek's hands moving over him,
listening to the older man speak to him. Seconds later, Stiles was pretty sure
that all of his brain function had ceased entirely. Derek wanted to ride him.
Every time that Stiles had imagined them together, he had always imagined the
Alpha as the one that was doing the fucking. Maybe it had been presumptuous on
his part, but he had kind of assumed that Derek would top because he was a
werewolf in a place of power. Though Stiles would definitely want to give
bottoming a try, he had no issues with switching things up. "Yes," Stiles said
without hesitation, "Hell yes. Fuck yes. All the yes. Whatever you want. If
that's what you wanna do, I have no problems with that." He wanted to make
Derek happy and it's not like this was any hardship for him.
Derek nodded and jutted his hips forward again to relieve some of the tension
before he rolled onto his back and pulled Stiles with him. He slid a hand
behind Stiles' nape and brought him in close, sealing their mouths together in
a kiss and sucking lightly on Stiles' lower lip. "I want it," he breathed out
against Stiles' mouth with a nod, not even bothering to pull back but just
talking against his face. "I want you inside me. I've been thinking about it a
lot." He nipped at Stiles' lip and then crawled on top of him so that he was
straddling Stiles' hips. "Is this okay? I don't want to make you
uncomfortable," he asked, running his hands up Stiles' chest and taking the t-
shirt with him so that he could pull it off. "I want you so bad, Stiles."
Stiles was kind of extremely speechless. He lifted his arms as Derek slid his
shirt over his head and he sat there kind of dumbfounded. Derek wanted him.
This was something that Stiles already knew, but Derek wanted Stiles inside him
and that was entirely different all together. With a sudden frenzy, Stiles
leaned back down and slammed their lips together violently, deepening the kiss
immediately. "Fuck yes," Stiles murmured against Derek's lips, kissing him
again before continuing, "Completely okay. No discomfort. Proceed without
caution." His hands slid into Derek's hair and he positively attacked the
werewolf's mouth, rolling his hips down from where he was currently seated on
top of Derek. This was something he could totally get behind. He was all for
any kind of sex and getting to lose his conventional virginity with Derek was
something that he was very okay with.
Derek relaxed when Stiles promised him that it was okay and he couldn't hear a
skip in his heartbeat to indicate a lie. Which meant that Stiles was really
okay with it and not just trying to make Derek feel better. Which did actually
make Derek feel better in a roundabout way. He pressed up into the kiss and
gripped at Stiles' hips, rolling his hips up against Stiles' so that he could
feel their erections pressing and rubbing together. It was the best kind of
torture. He groaned loudly and ran his hands back up Stiles' chest again,
leaning up to lick and mouth at one of his nipples. "Too many clothes," he
protested, rolling them so that Stiles was on his back and Derek was above him.
Derek pulled off his own sleep shirt to toss aside and then the hooked his
fingers under Stiles' boxers again, looking up at him for permission. "May I
remove these?" he asked breathlessly and the question was genuine. There was no
doubt in Derek's mind that if Stiles said no, he couldn't remove them, then
Derek would back off and respect his wishes, cool down. He might have to go in
the bathroom to... relieve himself of some tension. But he wouldn't pressure
Stiles into anything. The choice was entirely his own.
So much for actually sleeping tonight. Of course, this was so much better.
Stiles moaned as Derek rolled them against each other, gasping when he felt a
tongue against his nipple. Between one second and the next, Stiles was on his
back, not that he minded at all. He watched Derek's shirt disappear greedily,
wanting to run his hands across the werewolf's firm torso. He lifted his hips
slightly when Derek's fingers dipped under his waistband, but then the older
man stopped to ask for permission. It gave Stiles pause for a brief moment. He
could appreciate that Derek was big on consent, but at the same time, people
didn't usually stop in the middle of the hanky panky to ask about the next
step. As far as he understood it, once the initial consensual 'Yes' was given,
things continued until someone said a clear 'No' later on. The fact that Derek
was so intent on asking every step of the way made Stiles think that maybe
something had happened to him where he hadn't been comfortable and hadn't had
the courage to speak up. Or maybe Stiles was overthinking. Either way, now was
not the time. "Take 'em off, take 'em off, take 'em off," Stiles said quickly
as he nodded, lifting his hips even higher so that Derek could slide them off.
Derek smiled at Stiles in relief but there was something a little animal in his
eyes, hungry for Stiles but not to eat him. Well, there could be arguments for
that. Derek definitely did want to eat Stiles up but not in a cannibalistic way
at all. He nodded and slowly he pulled Stiles' boxer briefs down his thighs
until his cock came free, laying against his belly. The head was read and the
shaft looked vein-y. Stiles was uncircumcised too which really shouldn't have
surprised Stiles but he supposed that being on the run for most of his life
didn't exactly give him time for a truly unnecessary operation. God, Stiles was
beautiful though. Derek would never get tired of looking at him. Stiles' boxers
were tossed over the side of the bed and Derek ran his hands down Stiles' hips
and thighs, just looking at him. He leaned down to kiss the jut of Stiles' hip
bone tenderly, peppering kisses down his thigh and gently spreading them. He
pressed his nose to the base of Stiles' cock right by his balls and breathed in
the clean smell of soap and Stiles' skin, still clean from their shower
earlier. Derek licked at the seam of his groin and then finally mouthed at the
head of Stiles' cock to clean off the precome and taste Stiles on his tongue.
Stiles groaned when the cool air of the room hit his cock and he thrust up
slightly at nothing, searching for some kind of relief. He slid his legs up so
that Derek could get rid of his boxers faster. He wanted to get this show on
the road. But then, Derek was just kind of staring at him and Stiles was
blushing, almost wanting to cover himself in self-consciousness. He still
wasn’t quite used to the idea that Derek really thought he was attractive and
he definitely wasn’t used to people staring at him while he was naked. Stiles
arched into Derek’s hands, reveling in the touch. Then Derek’s mouth was around
the head of his cock and Stiles let out a surprised cry. He managed to keep his
hips still, intent on letting Derek do whatever he wanted. “Fair warning,”
Stiles panted out, “If you wanted to get to the actual sex bit tonight, I
wouldn’t spend too much time doing what you’re going there.” His body could
only handle so much and he knew for a fact that once he was inside Derek, he
wasn’t going to last long at all. Honestly, Stiles would probably be lucky if
he even lasted two seconds. So, part of him didn’t want to jeopardize any time
that could be spent having sex with Derek, but another part didn’t really care
about that, as long as everybody got to have an orgasm.
Derek ignored Stiles' warning and sucked him down slowly to the base until his
nose was pressed against the dark curls around Stiles' cock. He pulled back up,
hollowing out his cheeks before removing his mouth completely and looking at
Stiles as he circled his fingers around him. "I want to make you come this way.
Release the tension first and then when I get you hard again you'll last longer
inside of me," he said, telling Stiles his plan and looking at him through his
lashes as he slowly started to jerk Stiles with his hand. "Is that okay with
you?" He ducked back down to mouth at the head, circling his tongue and
pressing up at the sensitive underside of the head that had made Stiles gasp
before. Derek wanted Stiles to fuck up into his mouth at some point but for now
he was content with slowly breaking Stiles apart before he put him back
together again. He wanted this to last for a while, take their time making
love. Because that's what this was. It wasn't just some quick fuck with a
random person. It was sex with Stiles and every touch was meaningful and every
gaze or kiss they shared was full of emotion, full of love and desire. Derek
had never had that before and it filled his chest with unparalleled happiness.
He would gladly spend the next workday sleepy if it meant that he got to share
this with Stiles.
Another loud moan tumbled from Stiles’ lips when Derek took his entire cock
into his mouth. It was kind of one of the most amazing sensations of his life
and he needed to concentrate extremely hard on not coming right then. Before he
could stop it, a whine passed his lips as Derek pulled off, using his hand
instead as he spoke. Is that okay with him? Stiles was partially confused that
Derek even needed to ask a question like that, because that certainly sounded
like a good plan to Stiles. A genius plan really. He could definitely work with
that. Although, he still wasn’t sure he would last very long. “Very okay,” he
panted out, “Every single okay in the world.” He moaned again, hands gripping
the bedspread tightly as his jaw went slack. This was almost painfully slow and
intimate, but at the same time, Stiles didn’t want it any other way. This was
all about him and Derek and what they were to each other. This wasn’t just the
two of them having sex together, this was the two of them making love to each
other. One of Stiles’ hands went down to tangle in Derek’s hair, not pushing or
pulling, just something to give them another point of contact. “Fuck, Derek,”
Stiles groaned as he continued, his hips giving a slight twitch before settling
down again. This possibly wasn’t going to continue for much longer.
Derek smiled and gave another slow pull on Stiles' cock before leaning down
again. Just before he got his mouth around him again he looked up at Stiles
through his lashes. "I want you to come in my mouth. So don't hold back okay?"
he said, rubbing Stiles' thigh with his free hand before lowering his mouth
back to Stiles' cock. The taste was addicting and Stiles' cock was heavy on his
tongue, cloying and delicious. He wondered why he'd not gone down on Stiles
before because he really loved what he was doing to Stiles right that moment.
The noises Stiles was making were incredible and Derek thought he never wanted
to listen to anything also. Though they were also going straight to his dick
and he knew that listening to them all the time would be very impractical
because he'd just be sporting a constant boner and annoying other werewolves
with the scent of his arousal. He sucked Stiles down to the base after taking
his hand away and moving his fingers to massage and fondle his balls instead.
He knew Stiles wouldn't last very long but that was okay with him because he
probably wouldn't last very long either once he got Stiles' dick inside of him.
He couldn't wait to be filled up by Stiles, to let Stiles come inside him and
claim him. It was the biggest show of trust Derek could give him, allowing
Stiles that power over him, to have him at his most vulnerable and trusting
that Stiles wouldn't abuse that privilege. But he knew Stiles loved him and
that was enough for Derek.
Honestly, it was like Derek was either reading Stiles’ mind or he had googled
the top ten things to do and say while doing the do with a teenage boy. Stiles
had literally never felt this turned on in his life, both because of what was
happening and because of what he knew was going to come. For now, he just
focused on the feeling of Derek’s mouth around his cock. The werewolf had told
him not to hold back, but Stiles wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Did Derek
mean movements or sounds? Stiles was already having no problem with the latter.
Every noise that Derek drew out of him was released without shame. He would be
more worried if the room wasn’t sound proofed, but since it was he wanted Derek
to know just how much he was affecting him. His hips would twitch up every now
and then, unable to help himself for a moment, but he always made sure that
Derek was okay with a quick glance down. For the most part, his eyes were
slammed shut so that there was nothing but the feeling of Derek’s hot mouth
around his cock in his mind. When he felt a hand go down to fondle his balls,
he knew this was going to be over in a matter of seconds. “Derek I-“ was all
Stiles had a chance to say before he was coming hard with a shout, his entire
body tensing up and then relaxing all at once when he was finished. “Holy
fuck,” Stiles panted, eyes still shut, “You’re amazing.”
Derek filed away the information that Stiles loved his balls fondled because it
seemed to be the last straw on the camel's back that had him coming on Derek's
tongue and spilling down his throat. Derek moaned softly around Stiles' cock as
he took what he was given and swallowed it down greedily. It was bitter and a
bit salty on his tongue but it was also one hundred percent Stiles and that's
what Derek was concerned with. He pulled off and then licked his lips before he
went about mouthing at Stiles' softening cock that twitched here or there like
it was trying to get hard again but just couldn't. When Derek was finished
cleaning Stiles up with his mouth he slowly kissed his way back up Stiles'
body, mouthing at his belly button and tracing his tongue in the soft valleys
and peaks of his abdominal muscles. Eventually he nipped at Stiles' collarbone
and made it up his neck, hovering over his mouth. Derek looked down at him,
uncertain if Stiles would want to kiss him after he had his mouth on Stiles'
cock. Maybe Stiles would think that was weird. So he pressed their foreheads
together gently and sighed. "I love you," he mumbled softly so that only Stiles
could hear it, even if it was soundproofed to keep Kenna from staying up all
night.
Stiles was boneless on the bed as Derek mouthed at him. His cock gave a painful
twitch or two, but it was really too soon for him to go again. He would need
more than a few seconds. He tried to get his breathing under control as Derek
made his way up his body. It was ridiculously sexy and then he was just right
there with his gorgeous face. Stiles slid a hand into Derek’s hair, a soft
smile on his face. “I love you too,” he murmured before leaning up to press
their lips together. It was a little weird, being able to taste his own release
on Derek’s lips, but he would feel like an asshole if he couldn’t kiss Derek
after he’d just gone down on him. Besides, kissing Derek was one of his
favorite things to do. Stiles maneuvered them so that they were both laying on
their sides as they kissed each other slowly and softly, like they had all the
time in the world. To Stiles, it felt amazing to be able to do something like
that with someone. He continued on for a few minutes, not wanting to pull away
until finally he knew that he had to. They could be doing more productive
things. “Would be alright if we… got you ready while we wait for me to… be
ready again?” Stiles asked quietly, not bothering to move away from Derek’s
face. He wanted to stay as close as possible. He also wanted to give Derek the
pleasure that Derek had just given him.
Derek kissed Stiles back with some relief, glad that he didn't think it was
gross after Derek went down on him. Because Derek really enjoyed kissing Stiles
and he would have gotten up to brush his teeth if he needed to so that Stiles
would kiss him. He was glad he didn't have to get up though but he would have
done it. His heart fluttered in his chest when Stiles said he loved him too. He
was more than happy to let himself be maneuvered onto his side, arm sliding
around Stiles' waist as he returned every slow and languid kiss. He was still
ridiculously hard but he could ignore it until Stiles was ready for another
round. He was more than content just to kiss him. When Stiles pulled back to
ask Derek if they could prep him until Stiles was ready. Derek made a small
noise in the back of his head and nodded, kissing Stiles' mouth again. "Yea, we
can- we can definitely do that," he breathed out, pulling away from Stiles
reluctantly to roll over and open his bedside table. He dug around in it until
he came back with a mostly full bottle of lube, laying on his back and handing
it to Stiles. "You want to do it or you want me to?" he asked, biting the
inside of his lower lip as he watched the younger man. He really wanted to feel
those long fingers pressing inside him and driving him crazy.
Stiles almost regretted asking when it meant that Derek had to move away from
him, even for a second. A bottle of lube that was almost full was handed to him
and Stiles found himself wondering how often Derek actually did this. Often
enough to buy a lot of fresh lube or rarely enough that this bottle was still
almost full. Either way, now wasn’t the time to ask. “I want to do it,” Stiles
said resolutely. Derek had just given him the blowjob of his life and Stiles
wanted to return the favor. Besides, he wanted to learn about Derek’s sweet
spots and what made him writhe. Plus, the sooner Stiles started doing it, the
sooner he could get better at it. He had a feeling that they would probably
switch positions often enough for the both of them to need to be brushed up on
everything. Stiles leaned over where Derek was on his back and kissed him
again, unable to keep himself from doing so. “How do you… What position do you
want to be in for this?” Stiles asked after a moment. He didn’t want to start
unless Derek was completely comfortable. He felt kind of bad that the werewolf
still hadn’t come once and Stiles was going to end up coming twice, but Stiles
could make up for that later. He popped open the lube and squirted some of it
on his fingers so that he could warm it up a bit, waiting for Derek to tell him
he was okay to go.
Derek kissed Stiles back eagerly and made a soft whining sound when Stiles
pulled away. He did consider the question however and then reached for one of
the many extra pillows, picking up his hips to slide underneath himself. "Like
this," he decided with a nod, looking at Stiles with wide eyes. "I want to be
able to look at you." He brushed his fingers over Stiles' jaw and then pulled
his knees up and spread his thighs, laying himself bare for Stiles. His
expression and pose were all vulnerable and he was giving himself up. He hoped
that Stiles realized how monumental it was for him to give that up. No werewolf
ever did that easily and even less easily for an alpha. If this had been anyone
else, he would be covering up and protecting himself against whoever it was.
His instincts would kick in and he would pose defensively so he wouldn't get
hurt. But as it was, his instincts were quiet because they recognized Stiles as
the other part of himself and he knew that Stiles wouldn't hurt him. Stiles
loved him and they both wanted this.
Stiles stared at Derek with wide eyes, who was more or less presenting himself
for Stiles. It was probably the hottest thing that Stiles had ever seen in his
life. "Fucking gorgeous," Stiles muttered as he leaned forward to kiss Derek
again. He continued to kiss the werewolf as his slick fingers rubbed at his
hole a bit teasingly, spreading the lube. Stiles wanted this to be as painless
as possible for Derek. A moment later, he was sliding one finger inside of
Derek, groaning a bit at the tightness and the heat. Even though he already
came once, Stiles knew that he wouldn't last too long in there at all. He began
to move his finger slowly in and out, stretching Derek as much as one finger
could. He kissed at the werewolf's jaw, at his neck, waiting for some kind of
signal to tell him that Derek was ready for more. He didn't want to rush this
and he knew that patience was key if he wanted Derek to be comfortable. "Fuck,
Derek," Stiles murmured against his skin, "So tight. Fucking beautiful. Never
seen something more beautiful. I love you so much."
Derek moaned when he felt Stiles' finger massaging around his entrance and he
relaxed, breathing in deeply and staring up at Stiles. He wanted to be able to
see him while they were doing this, to look at him and know that this wasn't
just a quick fuck. It was love. He gasped aloud when he felt Stiles' finger
breach and he tensed for a long moment before taking another deep breath and
forcing himself to relax, allowing Stiles to push in the rest of the way. He
arched and moaned and tried to let Stiles control the pace but he was so
desperate for it and he pushed against Stiles' finger, begging silently for
more. He pulled Stiles to him and slid their mouths together in a deliciously
wet kiss, panting against his mouth but not putting any space between them.
"Another," he breathed out with a nod, rolling his hips and reveling in the
delicious way it felt to have even just a part of Stiles inside him. He
couldn't wait for that gorgeous cock to buried inside him, stretching him open
like he was made just to fit Stiles' body.
This was without a doubt the most intense sexual situation that Stiles had ever
been in. He was about to have sex with someone, and not just anyone. He was
going to have sex with Derek, with the person who held half of his own soul
inside them. He kissed Derek back eagerly, swallowing the noises he was making.
Every movement he made, Stiles could feel it and he could barely even imagine
what it was going to feel like to have his cock inside of Derek’s amazing body.
He wasn’t quite there yet, but he could practically feel his body trying to get
his motors up and running again. Stiles added another finger when Derek said
that he was ready and groaned into the kiss that he had restarted. Derek felt
so good around his fingers. He began scissoring his fingers a bit as he pulled
out, stretching Derek out even more before sliding them further in, searching
for the sweet spot that would make Derek moan. “Look so good like this,” Stiles
mumbled into the kiss, unable to stop himself from speaking, “So gorgeous,
baby. Love you so much.” He wasn’t even entirely sure of what he was actually
saying and what he was only thinking, but Stiles didn’t really care at this
point.
Derek whimpered softly when he felt Stiles slide another finger inside of him
and he clenched reflexively before relaxing. A litany of noises escaped his
mouth, tearing out of his chest from his very core. He'd never felt anything
like the bright sparks of pleasure and happiness that shot down his spine and
spread throughout his body to the tips of his fingers to the bottom of his
toes. He swore he could feel it in his hair too. Then there was the whole other
kind of pleasure of listening to Stiles speaking filthy words to him. Stiles
made them sound beautiful and Derek groaned, rocking his hips against Stiles'
hand. "Yea, Stiles, feels- ah, so fucking good. Don't stop, please don't stop,"
he begged, reaching blindly until he found Stiles' free hand and laced their
fingers, squeezing his hand tightly. "Love you so much, Stiles. Yea, baby, come
on. Another."
They were getting closer to the moment of truth and Stiles could finally feel
himself getting turned on again. He had been worried for a little bit there
that it wouldn’t happen, but he felt that familiar heat in the base of his
stomach as he slid a third finger into Derek. It was something to behold.
Derek, an Alpha werewolf that had killed for Stiles was now spread out beneath
him, rocking down onto his fingers like it was the only thing he was meant to
do in this universe. It was kind of heady. Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand, ready
to give him whatever he needed to feel comfortable even if it meant Stiles was
holding himself up a little awkwardly now. He didn’t care. Looking at how much
pleasure Derek was experiencing was worth it. Stiles had never seen anything
more beautiful than Derek rocking onto Stiles’ fingers, a look of pure bliss on
his face. “You’re amazing,” Stiles murmured, pressing quick kisses to the
werewolf’s skin, “Can’t wait to get my cock inside you. Gonna make you feel so
good.”
Derek's eyes flashed red when he felt the third finger press inside of him but
he blinked and it was gone again. He let out a soft little whimper that almost
resembled a howl and he rocked his hips down against Stiles' fingers. "Stiles,"
he gasped out, gripping at Stiles' sides and groaning. He leaned up to kiss him
and he could feel the desperate need deep in his belly for Stiles' cock.
"Stiles, please. 'm ready. Please, I need you," he begged, looking up at Stiles
with big desperate eyes, curling his arm around Stiles' waist and rocking his
hips up. "I wanna- wanna ride you. C'mon. Please. Baby."
Hearing Derek beg for him so desperately was sort of one of the best things
that Stiles had ever heard in his life. “Fuck Derek,” he groaned, “Of course.
Yeah, if you’re sure that you’re ready, yeah let’s go.” He smashed his lips
against Derek’s, desperate to touch him anywhere and everywhere. Stiles managed
to get the lube opened with his free hand and he messily squirted some out so
that he could coat his now hard cock. He marveled for a second at the fact that
he hadn’t even needed to touch himself to get hard again. Just the sight of
Derek had been enough. When he was sure that there was enough there for Derek
to be comfortable, Stiles slowly pulled his fingers out of Derek before he
rolled over to lay on his back, tugging Derek to get on top of him.
Derek whimpered when Stiles removed his fingers but he scrambled on top of him
quickly, pressing up against him as he leaned in close to kiss him, letting all
his desperation and ferocity bleed through into it. He looked over his shoulder
to see how Stiles was slicking himself up and Derek groaned loudly, pushing
back so that he could feel Stiles' knuckles brush his ass with each pass of his
hand. Derek eventually reached back and nudged Stiles' hand aside, replacing it
with his own at the base. He lifted his hips and positioned Stiles at his
entrance, panting. He looked back at Stiles, meeting his gaze as he slowly
pushed down, crying out when he felt the head of Stiles' cock push past the
ring of muscle and stretch him out. "Fuck, fuck, so good," he breathed out, a
low, pleased rumble building in his chest like a brontide. "I love you so
much."
Stiles was pretty sure that he had died and gone to Heaven. The hottest person
that he had ever seen in his entire life was currently sliding down onto his
dick. His eyes were blown wide with lust as he stared at Derek, gripping his
thighs tightly. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” Stiles babbled, his head thrown back
as his cock was enveloped in the tight heat. He took a moment to breathe before
his grip on Derek loosened slightly and he looked up at the werewolf,
completely blown away. “Look at you,” he murmured, rubbing small circles
against Derek’s skin with his thumbs, “Sitting on my cock like you were meant
to. Fuck Derek, you look gorgeous like this. I love you.” He wanted to move but
he wanted to wait until Derek said it was okay. He also wasn’t completely sure
that he could move. Derek was actually pretty heavy, considering he was mostly
muscle, and Stiles probably couldn’t do much more than just small jerks of his
hips up into Derek.
Derek groaned as he bottomed out, sitting firmly in Stiles' lap. He rolled his
hips experimentally and whimpered in surprise at how amazing it felt. He leaned
forward to kiss Stiles firmly on the mouth, rocking against him but not
properly thrusting yet as he got used to the way Stiles felt inside him. "I
love you, Stiles," he gasped, mouthing at his neck. "Love you so much. I was
made for you. Just you. I'm yours." He slid an arm under Stiles' back around
his waist to keep him close and then he lifted his hips so that Stiles slowly
slid out of him. A second later Derek dropped down again quickly and gasped
aloud, heart stuttering and lashes fluttering against his cheeks. "Damn,
Stiles. Fuck. Yea. So good. Perfect. Feel perfect inside me."
Stiles could die right now and be happy for the rest of his non-existent life.
Even the small, barely-there movements that Derek made while they kissed felt
amazing. But then Derek actually moved and Stiles felt the drag of his own cock
moving inside of Derek and he gasped in time with Derek. He watched as dark
lashes flutter against high cheekbones and Stiles could swear that he had never
seen anything more beautiful. Finally, Stiles just couldn’t help himself. He
grabbed Derek’s hips and held them in place. Slowly, he pushed his hips down
into the bed so that his cock slid out of Derek before he snapped them back up,
pushing himself back into Derek gentle and slow. He wanted to show the older
man that this meant something to him, that he cared. He continued with his slow
and gentle pace, his hands caressing Derek anywhere they could reach. He
couldn’t help but think that they weren’t fucking. No, this wasn’t fucking. As
cheesy as it was, the only way to describe this was making love.
Derek was more than happy to let Stiles control the pace, to let Stiles move
his hips up into Derek. All at once all Derek wanted to do was give his power
over to Stiles and let him have control over everything. Derek wanted Stiles to
have him wholly and completely. He slid both of his arms around Stiles' waist
behind his back, stilling their movements briefly and then rolling them so that
Stiles was on top of him. He blinked up at Stiles with big round eyes, reaching
up to caress his face tenderly before leaning up for a kiss. "I'm yours," he
mumbled softly as he settled back up against the pillows and rolled his hips
once slowly. "All yours. Whatever you want. You have me." He slid both of his
hands down Stiles' sides, just caressing his soft skin and holding him close.
Stiles was the only thing Derek ever wanted to have and he had him. Derek was
wholly Stiles' and ruined for anyone else because no one else would be Stiles.
It was terrifying to know that his happiness was so tightly tied to this soft
human boy but Derek also knew that Stiles was far from fragile. He was tough
and fierce and he didn't take shit from anyone. Derek loved him for that.
Stiles was taken by surprise for a moment when Derek flipped them over. He had
thought that the whole reason they were kind of doing it was because Derek had
wanted to ride him. Well that and the whole being in love with each other bit.
Still, Stiles was flexible and he didn’t really care what position they had sex
in. All that mattered was that Derek was happy and comfortable. He kissed the
werewolf back softly, smiling into it as he pressed their foreheads together.
“And I’m yours,” he said simply. Stiles began to push into Derek again, keeping
with his slow and sensual pace. He wanted to treasure this, enjoy every moment.
Stiles kissed every piece of skin that he could reach, his hands running over
Derek softly, gently. He wanted this to be memorable. He wanted it to be like
something that Derek had never had with anything else. Considering that this
was Stiles first ever experience with sex, he didn’t exactly have a lot to
compare it to, but Derek was different. Stiles wanted to make sure that he knew
that he was loved like no one else when he was with Stiles. Derek was beyond
important to him. Stiles kissed Derek languidly, not feeling any reason to
rush. There would be times when they would fuck, but this wasn’t one of those
times. Stiles reached down and took hold of Derek’s cock as he began to stroke
him leisurely, slowly bringing him to the edge.
Derek slid a hand behind Stiles' neck as Stiles kissed him back and then rested
their foreheads together. He took a moment just to breathe and center himself
as Stiles started to move inside of him. It felt amazing. It had burned a
little at first because Derek had never had anything but a dildo in his ass,
never trusting anyone else to do this with him. Just Stiles. And Stiles was a
bit bigger than the dildo he'd had. He felt fucking amazing, burying himself
over and over inside of Derek and making him see stars. Derek kept his fingers
in Stiles' hair as Stiles kissed along his body. Derek arched into everything
he was given, just enjoying being loved so thoroughly by Stiles. He could feel
it and smell it in the room, surrounding them like a cloud that smelled like
peaches and roses and sunshine. It felt amazing and if Derek were to die, he
would die the happiest he'd ever been. But he didn't want to die because that
meant he'd be away from Stiles. He clung to Stiles tightly and then jerked into
his hand when he felt fingers curling around his cock, bringing him closer to
the edge. He gasped and groaned, digging blunt human nails into Stiles' hips
just to anchor himself. "Fuck, Stiles, al-almost there, don't stop," he begged,
keening every time Stiles' cock brushed against his prostate and he thumbed
over the head of Derek's cock.
Derek was letting out the most beautiful sounds and Stiles wasn’t even sure how
he was still alive at this point. He should have died from overload of amazing
and sexy. He kept with his pace for the most part, until Derek told him that he
was getting close. Stiles didn’t speed up, per say, but he put more force
behind each thrust, sending him deeper into Derek and pressing more firmly
against the man’s prostate. He sped up ever so slightly on Derek’s cock,
knowing that it was possibly hard for him to get off with only this. Or maybe
it wasn’t. They would have to experiment with that kind of stuff some day. The
thought made Stiles groan and he pressed his face into the crook of Derek’s
neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin there. “I love you,” he murmured, “I
love you so much.” Stiles didn’t know why but this struck him as so important.
The words ‘consummated our bond in the eyes of fate’ flashed through Stiles’
head and he recognized them from the journal entry in Derek’s family book.
That’s what they were doing. They were showing each other and whatever forces
were out there that they were meant to be together.
"I love you, too. I love you so much," Derek repeated, gasping and then pushing
Stiles' hand from his cock. "Too much," he groaned, rocking up into every one
of Stiles' thrusts. He gasped loudly and then his back arched up off the bed as
Stiles hit his prostate perfectly and his orgasm crested, falling over him. He
cried out Stiles' name loudly as he came between them, spurting out over his
own belly and getting a bit on Stiles' as well. He clutched and grasped at
Stiles' back desperately, pulling him in for a heated kiss. "C'mon, Stiles," he
groaned against Stiles' lips. "Come for me. Want you to come inside me. Make me
yours so everyone will know I belong to you," he begged, biting at Stiles'
lower lip as he continued to rock his hips up against Stiles' despite how spent
he felt. He wanted Stiles to finish and feel amazing. He wanted everyone to
know to whom he belonged. No werewolf would dare to touch Stiles now. Not when
he had claimed an alpha. Most alphas didn't even let their beta-mates fuck
them. It wasn't unheard of but it certainly wasn't common for alphas to give up
that power to a beta but it was extremely rare to hear of an alpha giving that
to a human. But Derek had never been meant to be an alpha. He was meant to be a
beta and giving himself up to Stiles was basic instinct but even more than that
it was his own desire to give himself away.
A few times during this whole encounter, Stiles had been positive that he had
reached the moment when Derek was at his most beautiful. Each time something
came along and proved him wrong, but Stiles knew that he was right this time.
Watching Derek have an orgasm from having Stiles’ cock inside him, that was
without a doubt the most beautiful thing Stiles had ever seen and would ever
see for the rest of his life. He could feel that he wasn’t far behind and then
Derek pulled him into that kiss and started talking to him with that fucked-out
voice. Stiles lost it. He pushed hard into Derek one last time before he came
inside the werewolf, groaning Derek’s name as he did. He sort of collapsed on
Derek moments later, unable to hold himself up anymore. He knew that he should
probably pull out and that it probably wasn’t comfortable for Derek to have a
softening cock inside of him, but Stiles just felt so boneless he wasn’t sure
if he would ever move again. “Are they really gonna know?” he mumbled moments
later. Rather than waiting for Derek to ask whom, Stiles just trucked right on.
“I mean, they’re going to be able to tell we had sex, obviously, I mean even
humans can smell sex, but are they really gonna be able to tell who was in what
position? That’s vaguely creepy and yet vaguely impressive. You know what? I
don’t even care. I love you.” A sort of daze was settling over Stiles and he
supposed that it was the afterglow he was enjoying.
Derek groaned and gasped when Stiles came inside of him. He couldn't feel it
per se but he could tell how Stiles tensed up and shuddered. He got his arms
around Stiles and just held onto him tightly, burying his face against Stiles'
shoulder and tightening his legs around Stiles' hips. After a moment Derek let
go of his legs and gently maneuvered Stiles to slip out of him with a soft
whimper at the loss, but he left Stiles laying against him, unwilling to move
away from him yet. He nosed behind Stiles' ear and then shrugged a little bit.
He loved the way Stiles' voice came out low and slow and blissful. "If you're
with me or if they know your scent they'll know it was you. They'll know I'm
yours and you're mine. They wouldn't dare try and touch or harm you," he
answered honestly, kissing along Stiles' neck lazily. "You'd be dangerous to
them. A human who claimed an alpha? It's practically unheard of. They'll
respect you." He pulled back gently and tipped Stiles' head so that he could
lock their mouths together in a sweet kiss. "Every time I kiss you, I swear I
can taste the next eighty years," he mumbled against Stiles' lips.
"Eighty years is a long time," Stiles mumbled against Derek's lips. He was
quickly becoming tired and it showed in his slightly slurred speech and his
sluggish movements. "That means lots of sex. I bet you're gonna be sexy even
when you're a shriveled up prune," Stiles went on, snuggling against Derek's
warm body. Part of him still couldn't quite believe that they had really just
had sex. It was kind of one of those things that is hard to wrap your head
around. All Stiles knew for sure was that they would definitely have to do more
of that. Like probably everyday. Maybe twice a day. As many times as possible
until he died really. "I love you," Stiles muttered. It was one of the last
things that he could remember saying before he fell asleep just like that. He
was dead tired and even though part of him wanted to enjoy the afterglow with
Derek, his body didn't really seem to care. Maybe they could enjoy the
afterglow in the morning. Maybe they could have more sex in the morning. Stiles
snored lightly, a peaceful look on his face as he slept.
"I'm prepared to spend eighty more years with you," Derek assured Stiles as he
kissed the younger man's temple. He chuckled as Stiles rambled on about sex and
Derek still being sexy when he was old and wrinkled. Derek knew Stiles would
always be the most attractive man to him and he would never give him up. He
hoped that whatever kids they had, they could raise in a more accepting world
where humans weren't forced into labor for werewolves as an inferior race. They
were all important and special and capable of amazing things. "I love you too,"
Derek sighed quietly after Stiles even though he knew that his mate was already
fast asleep by the way his breathing evened and his heart slowed just slightly.
Derek listened to the sound of oxygen being drawn into and pushed back out of
Stiles' lungs and Stiles' heart provided a rhythmic lullaby that had Derek
falling asleep just minutes later, comfortable and happy and content.
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