
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1172714.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski/Other(s)
  Character:
      Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf), Deucalion_(Teen_Wolf), Stiles_Stilinski, Derek
      Hale, Ethan_(Teen_Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      Possessed_Stiles, Dark_Stiles, Demon_Stiles_Stilinski, Anal_Sex, Canon-
      Typical_Violence, Minor_Character_Death, Deception, Manipulation, Sick
      Stiles, Bottom_Stiles_Stilinski, Smut, Nogitsune_Stiles, post_3x17,
      Silverfinger, Angst_and_Porn
  Series:
      Part 1 of Nogitsune_Stiles_Saga
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-07 Words: 3438
****** He Dreams Darkness ******
by Hollywood_Refugee
Summary
     After dealing with the Oni, a dark but conflicted Stiles wrecks a bit
     of havoc and seduces Derek.
     "He had thought it was a dream, when he woke up the next day in his
     bed. The raw intensity of his emotions, combined with the fuzziness
     of his thinking and the general surrealness of his surroundings - he
     had to have been asleep.
     I mean, come on, he reasoned with himself, he was literally walking
     through an eerily deserted hospital. Just as bizarre, he’d called
     Melissa “Mom” when she’d tucked him in. And was she even qualified to
     give him that shot?"
Notes
     Spoilers for 3x17 Silverfinger. Possessed Stiles from his POV and
     also (clueless) Derek's. Stiles-inflicted violence on some baddies.
     Sterek sex scene.
     **I will probably post a follow up story to this exploring Derek's
     reaction to finding out the truth. So more angst and porn to come! :)
He had thought it was a dream, when he woke up the next day in his bed. The raw
intensity of his emotions, combined with the fuzziness of his thinking and the
general surrealness of his surroundings - he had to have been asleep.
I mean, come on, he reasoned with himself, he was literally walking through an
eerily deserted hospital. Just as bizarre, he’d called Melissa “Mom” when she’d
tucked him in. And was she even qualified to give him that shot? Then he’d
pushed past those doors and been confronted by the shadowy demons. His heart
thudding in his chest, he had turned to run from the pair of them, only to be
blocked by another one of these masked monsters. Right before the one he was
facing moved to touch him, he remembers thinking how friggin’ done he was with
all this supernatural bullshit. He remembers feeling pretty pissed off about
the whole thing.
Then the dream got even stranger. It was as if he were watching himself as a
different person. His hand shooting out to grab the demon’s. How dare he try to
touch me! This insignificant thing means to instill fear in me? Or smite the
evil out of me? The fury flared inside him, a heat which grew steely cold and
hard as he saw how easy it was to crush the demon’s hand. It only felt natural
to reach in and drain the demon’s heart. He had felt the life force pass into
him, flushing him with the demon's power. It was intoxicating to swim in it.
The other two went quickly after that. As dreams went, it wasn’t that unusual.
We do a lot of things in dreams we would never do in real life, right? His mind
flashed back to the glow of the firefly in his hand. At the time, he had been
so entranced with the demon remnant, reduced to a dying insect.
“Wait a minute,” he said to himself as he replayed the scene in his mind. If it
had been a dream, wouldn’t there have been something off about his hand? One,
two, three, four, five. The right number of fingers. God damn. It was real.
***
It wasn’t long before Stiles had buried this revelation from his conscious
memory. It was just easier that way, to forget these lapses. Of course, a part
of him knew. That he had surrendered to the darkness. The Nemeton had opened a
doorway to some kind of hell. He had struggled mightily to shut that door,
battling fear, pain, exhaustion and sadness. But it had been no use. Maybe a
part of him wanted it this way. Maybe he was tired of fighting. A victim of a
war of attrition in his mind, until there was hardly any mind left.
He knew things without knowing how or why. New knowledge and skills which
instantly appeared when needed. Like how he knew the importance of his first
encounter with Derek since the werewolf’s return to Beacon Hills. That he would
need to concentrate, to control his aura. If Derek had been able to see him
before the run in with the Oni, he might not have been able to hide what was
happening. But after absorbing the life essence of those demons, he had
substantially increased his power. He should be able to fool him.
It had been at the local 7-11 late one night that he and Derek finally caught
up with one another.
“Stiles,” Derek had said, giving him a thoughtful look.
“Derek,” he had said back. It was still him in control. The Other wouldn’t show
up unless there was real danger. In the past, a situation like this would make
me nervous, Stiles found himself thinking. But he felt grounded in his newfound
power. No more anxiety or panic attacks. No more living in terror. Just an
endless void which he floated in, untethered.
Derek leaned in and sniffed at him.
“Okay,” Stiles said, putting his hand up, “I can’t smell that bad.”
Derek wrinkled his nose and tilted his head, like something didn’t compute.
“What?” Stiles asked, huffing out an annoyed breath.
“Nothing. Be safe, Stiles,” Derek said as he walked away.
***
The destruction of the Oni had awoken a hunger. Stiles was itching for prey. He
craved the incredible rush of wielding such immense power. It stirred within
him, latent and patient - for now.
***
Stiles hadn’t even been fully aware that he setting it up until he found that
he had gotten Ethan alone after school, far away from any prying eyes in an
isolated part of campus. He had seen the twin arguing with Danny this morning.
By lunch break, it was obvious an opportunity had presented itself, with Danny
blatantly making out with his ex in the quad.
It had been so easy to come on to Ethan and get him to go with him to a closet
store room. The old Stiles wouldn’t have been able to pull it off. But new
Stiles was different.
“Come on man, forget Danny and have a little fun with a horny virgin who’s game
for anything. Think of it as a rebound hook-up.”
Not that it wasn’t good. Ethan held him up the whole time as they fucked
against a wall, his cock pumping into Stiles at a ferocious pace. But as Ethan
fucked him with a narcissistic efficiency, Stiles found himself fantasizing
about Derek being the one inside him. Derek gnawing on his neck and grunting
out his name. Derek coming inside him.
As Ethan came, the Other took over. But not before he heard himself say, “This
is for Boyd.” Stiles could feel the werewolf’s life force humming like the
string of an instrument being thrummed. What happened next, as he reached into
Ethan’s core and tore out his essence, was as if that string had been cut. No
more sound, no more breath. There was nothing left. He had been extinguished.
It wasn’t how Stiles imagined losing his V card. Is this what the thing inside
him wanted? Or was it what he wanted? It wasn’t like there was this clear
boundary in his mind where he ended and the darkness began. He could only see
from the inside out, knowing that every thought and feeling was likely poisoned
with this demonic sickness. So how could he parse it out? He couldn’t really.
And whatever it was inside him, the longer it stayed, the more it felt a part
of him. He couldn’t get outside of it. And inside, merged with it, he just
didn’t care.
***
Stiles needed more. It was too risky to stay in town and do the deed. He didn’t
have the sense that anyone suspected him in Ethan’s disappearance - no one
except Aiden and Danny cried about it. Karma was a bitch after all. Whatever
this thing was inside him, so far it had let him maintain a semblance of
control. It seemed like as long as he periodically exercised these powers, it
was content to stay hidden within him most of the time. Thus he began to hatch
ideas about “acceptable” targets.
“Are you sure you wanna drive all the way there by yourself?” asked Scott,
looking concerned.
“I know it wasn’t too long ago that I was in the hospital for exhaustion. But
it’ll do me good to get away from Beacon Hills. Don’t worry, all right?” he
said as he loaded up his Jeep.
Stiles made the trek down to LA, where he tracked down Deucalion. He had set
himself up at a Braille Institute, of all places.
“Hi Duke,” he said as he caught up with the alpha. Deucalion had a key in the
door and turned around. He tried to hide his startled reaction, but Stiles
noticed anyway. It made him smile.
“Did I surprise you?” Stiles asked, cocking his head.
“Stiles, my boy. A Beacon Hills blast from the past. I should have known all
that potential wouldn’t go to waste,” Deucalion said. He looked around and
seemed to decided that whatever was about to happen next, it was better done
within the privacy of his home, “Care to take this inside?” he said, opening
the door and motioning for Stiles to go first.
Once the door was closed, Deucalion’s fangs and claws came out. He put up a
good fight, but it was too late. As he soon found out, faced with the murky
abyss which consumed him as cold, predatory eyes stared back at him. The
slightest hint of a sneer flickered across the teen’s remorseless face.
Afterwards, a subdued but pleased expression settled on him as bits of
Deucalion scattered into dust.
***
Stiles had hoped the former alpha pack leader’s demise would go unnoticed back
in Beacon Hills. But apparently, someone had informed Deaton, who proceeded to
tell Scott. It had made the true alpha jumpy.
“I don’t like not knowing what’s going on” said Scott as he and Stiles walked
the halls of school.
“The Nemeton is supposed to attract all sorts of supernatural critters. Seems
like more of the same to me,” said Stiles, shrugging his shoulders. It was
almost too easy to put one over on his best friend. Even when he had tried to
warn him about what was happening to him, confiding his suspicions that he was
the one behind Kira’s attack, Scott had refused to believe him. Oh well, he’d
tried.
***
It had been raining non-stop, when Derek opened the front door to find Stiles
standing there, sopping wet. He reasoned that it must have been the sound and
smells of the deluge that had allowed Stiles to end up on his doorstep without
the werewolf noticing. At least not until he had heard the pounding on his
door.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Stiles simply stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was
breathing heavy, droplets of rain still running down his face and clothes. He
blinked furiously, rubbing his face as if he had just awoken, “What am I doing
here?” he repeated the question, sounding confused as he looked around.
Derek felt sorry for the kid. He had heard from Scott about Stiles’ symptoms,
how they mimicked Claudia Stilinski’s before she died. It must have been why
Stiles smelled a bit off. Would the bite help? He found himself wondering.
Suddenly, a surge of emotion hit him. Could Stiles actually be dying? Sadness,
outrage, even possessiveness - Derek found a mixture of heretofore
unacknowledged feelings roil through him. In that moment, he knew what he had
been hiding from himself. That this beautiful, goofy, incorrigible teenager had
gotten under his skin in the best of ways. And he’d be damned if he was going
to lose him too.
“Come inside Stiles,” he said, putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
“Thanks Derek,” he mumbled as he stepped inside.
“What’s up?” asked Derek.
“I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I can’t tell when I’m dreaming and when
it’s for real. I… I think I’ve done things. I tried to tell Scott, but he
wouldn’t listen,” Stiles said, tears beginning to streak down his face.
“Hey, shh. Not now, eh?” Derek made a comforting noise, and reached towards
Stiles to pull off his waterlogged jacket. Derek knew about Stiles’ attempt to
convince Scott that he was somehow responsible for that serial killer
kidnapping Kira. Scott had dismissed the notion.
Derek trusted that his alpha knew best, especially about his oldest friend. But
Derek didn’t just care about Stiles because he was his alpha’s best bud. He
wished he could show Stiles that, right now, when he seemed so lost and
forlorn.
Derek got Stiles to change into a dry t-shirt and sweats, then wrapped him up
in a blanket and handed him a mug of hot chocolate. “What can I do for you
Stiles?” he asked. Derek felt semi-useless as he watched an unusually quiet
Stiles hunker down on the couch.
“Uh, can you just sit with me? I’d really like that,” Stiles said while looking
down at his feet.
“Sure I can. I’d be happy to,” said Derek, putting his arm around Stiles.
After a while, Stiles pulled the blanket off of his shoulders and threw it
around both of them. He snuggled into Derek’s shoulder, “Mmm, you are so solid.
Like a rock.” Stiles laughed for the first time since he’d come through the
door, and it was music to Derek’s ears. He hadn’t realized how much he missed
happy-go-lucky Stiles. Heartened, Derek ruffled Stiles’ hair and hugged him
closer.
“Derek,” Stiles whispered a short time later.
“Yeah?”
“I know you know, about my mom and stuff happening with me,” Stiles said.
Derek looked into his eyes and nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. Life
was goddamn unfair.
“I just, I just don’t what’s in store. So, this is gonna sound kind of awkward.
But, I don’t want to die a virgin. And I’ve wanted to be with you from the
first time I saw you in the woods. And, and. Never mind, this is stupid,”
Stiles says as he stares at Derek’s stunned expression. He shifts like he’s
about to stand up, “I should go.”
“No, wait!” Derek says, grabbing Stiles by the wrist, “I hesitated Stiles, not
because I don’t want you. I do, more than you know. But you’re so young. I
don’t want to be that guy.”
“Fine. Let me die a fucken pathetic loser, miserable and alone,” he said,
covering his face with his hands.
“Stiles,” Derek said his name like a plea, cradling the boy’s head in his
hands, “Okay, okay.”
Derek kissed Stiles’ face all over, soft little pecks over his brow, his
cheeks, his chin. When he finally got to Stiles’ delicious red lips, he heard
Stiles gasp. Then it was all open mouths and moans as they grabbed at one
another, pulling each other close. They peeled each other’s clothes off, hands
exploring the planes of flesh as if they’d never felt a body before. For Derek,
it was like a revelation. He found himself tracing Stiles’ constellation of
moles with his lips, hot breath ghosting over pale skin.
As Derek took Stiles cock into his mouth, the younger man bucked his hips and
widened his legs in invitation, mewling in his need for more. The werewolf
threw back the teenager’s legs and moved his mouth lower, tracing circles with
his tongue on the puckery opening before plunging inside. He felt Stiles relax
more deeply, cursing and panting as Derek’s tongue dove further down his hole.
“I need more,” said Stiles, fingers grabbing at Derek’s head.
“Are you sure?” Derek asked. When Stiles nodded, Derek grabbed the lube.
Derek lubed up his fingers on one hand and began to slowly stretch Stiles’
hole, working in one finger at a time in a gentle swirling motion, hooking his
fingers when he got in deep enough. He pressed the pads of his fingers against
the smooth surface of Stiles’ prostrate, causing Stiles to arch his back in
pleasure. Derek added more lube and kept working his fingers in. Eventually,
he’d opened Stiles up enough to take three fingers, the tips pressed together
to form a triangle which he twisted into Stiles’ ass in a corkscrew motion.
“Are you ready?” Derek asked.
“Oh God, I’m so ready,” said Stiles.
Derek rolled Stiles onto his side and lay down behind him. Spooning would be a
good way to start - not as deep as facing one another, but less impersonal than
putting Stiles on his knees. Derek lubed up his substantial cock, bent Stiles’
upper leg at the knee for better access, then slowly worked his way in, pushing
in a little deeper each time. He held the base of his cock with his fist to
avoid going too deep this first time.
“I can take it Derek,” Stiles said with a hint of impatience.
“I thought you said you’re a virgin,” Derek said.
“Ever heard of toys?” said Stiles. The remark flushed Derek with even more
arousal and he let go of the base of his cock, plunging in all the way. When he
bottomed out, he felt his balls slap against the edge of Stiles’ ass cheeks. It
was heavenly.
Derek grunted and hastened his pace as Stiles writhed in ecstasy, pushing up
against him to get Derek’s cock deeper inside him. Derek sat up and lifted
Stiles’ legs, shifting them so that he was underneath, moving Stiles up and
down on his lap as he cradled him by his waist and under his knees. Stiles
threw his head back, resting it against Derek’s shoulder, who voraciously
seized the tender flesh of his exposed neck.
“I’m so close,” Stiles panted, his skin glistening with sweat. Derek ran his
hand over Stiles’ torso, stopping to finger and pinch his tender nipples before
grabbing the younger man’s cock, using Stiles’ own pre-cum to pumping it hard
and fast.
Stiles turned his head around just enough to open his mouth and lick at Derek’s
lips, who in turn nipped at Stiles’ lips before plunging his tongue deep
inside. Stiles moaned into his mouth as he came, leaning back against Derek,
white hot spurts of cum spraying onto his own chest. Derek rubbed his hand in
it and brought it to their lips, Stiles licking the palm as Derek sucked on his
own fingers as he came. Stiles clenched and arched as he felt the thick hot
load shoot up inside him.
“Mmm, this was a good idea,” said Stiles as they sat there for a moment,
resting with Derek’s cock still inside him.
They took a shower together afterwards, Stiles leaning into the tile as Derek
soaped him up and massaged his weary muscles. As his soapy fingers trailed down
Stiles’ arm, he grabbed his hand and turned around.
“Derek, promise me one thing,” he said.
“What’s that Stiles?” Derek said, all smiles on a sex-happy high.
“That no matter how bad it gets, you’ll remember the good times we had,” said
Stiles, leaning in to kiss him.
“Hey, I thought I was supposed to be the fatalist here,” Derek joked.
“Look, let’s not tell the others,” Stiles said, turning serious.
“Why not?” asked Derek.
“I just want something to myself for once, without the peanut gallery
commenting,” he said.
“All right,” said Derek.
***
They fucked like rabbits from then on. Their sex was electric, crazed, and
tinged with desperation. It was steamy blow jobs in their cars. Forcibly quiet
interludes in Stiles’ bedroom. Stiles on all fours by the rocky outpoint in the
woods. Stiles riding Derek in his loft. Even a few sneaky sexings on the high
school campus - over the sink in the locker room and a messy cumshot all over
Stiles' elfish face underneath the bleachers. Derek was intoxicated with it. He
knew he wasn’t thinking right anymore. All he knew is that he wanted Stiles so
much more than he could ever have him.
***
Stiles stood perfectly still in the middle of his room with the lights turned
out. He often found himself like this, not knowing exactly how long he had been
standing there. There were some things he was not privy to in his own head.
What he did know was this: whatever part of him remained in the light, that
part was falling in love with Derek. As for the rest of him, well it wasn’t
exactly an intolerable ride.
Stiles had certainly always been attracted to the sour wolf, but he hadn’t been
sure the feelings were mutual. And he never imagined that he would act on his
desire for Derek. That must have been the Other’s doing. He knew things that
Stiles didn’t.
So was that all it was? The seduction a strategy to throw Derek off the trail.
To control him through distraction. And then make Derek keep it a secret. To
strengthen their bond away from anyone else’s scrutiny. To keep the beleaguered
wolf emotionally isolated and easier to manipulate. Exploiting old patterns. No
doubt, it increases the likelihood of him remaining an ally if and when things
come to a head. Poor Derek will be very confused as to where his real
allegiance will lie.
I will kill myself before I let you hurt him, Stiles thought in a rare outburst
of defiance as he looked in the mirror. You can have anything you want, just
don’t take him away from me.
The thing looking back at him in the mirror raised an eyebrow and smiled,
looking pleased.
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