
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/708636.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski/Original_Male_Character_
      (past), Derek_Hale/Kate_Argent_(past_implied), Scott_McCall/Allison
      Argent_(mentioned), Lydia_Martin/Jackson_Whittemore_(mentioned), Vernon
      Boyd/Erica_Reyes_(vaguely_implied), Stiles_Stilinski/Isaac_Lahey_(blink
      and_you_miss_it_UST)
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Isaac_Lahey, Erica_Reyes, Vernon_Boyd,
      Laura_Hale, Original_Male_Character, Sassy_Drag_Queens_of_Fabulosity,
      other_characters_are_mentioned_but_do_not_appear
  Additional Tags:
      Dirty_Talk, Barebacking, Dom/sub_Undertones, Unnegotiated_Kink, Spanking,
      Marking, Biting, Rimming, emotionally_unhealthy_past_relationship,
      Possessive_Derek, Inappropriately_close_Derek_and_Laura, Stiles_is
      underage_in_case_you_missed_the_archive_warning, Non-Consensual_Touching,
      Stiles_is_physically_restrained_by_his_ex, I_don't_think_it's_too
      triggery_but_be_aware
  Collections:
      Sterek, Fics_I_Always_Reread
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-04 Words: 14960
****** I Totally Planned on the Walk of Shame ******
by Sugakane_01
Summary
     Stiles wiggled a bit to adjust the fit of his skinny jeans and winced
     slightly. There was a fine line between paint and pants and he was
     pretty sure that line had frowned at him in disapproval two sizes
     back. He popped a few breath mints and resisted the urge to run
     nervous hands through his hair lest he ruin all of Lydia's hard work.
     Stiles took a deep breath, sent up a prayer, and stepped into line at
     Howl, the most underground of underground nightclubs that Beacon
     Hills had to offer.
     Not that Beacon Hills had any other underground nightclubs but still,
     Stiles was there, ready to unleash his inner beast and walk on the
     wild side.
     Jazz hands.
Notes
     Once upon a time in a fandom far, far away there was a fabulous
     author named NaomiRaven who wrote a fic called "Own Me". The original
     fic can (to the best of my knowledge) no longer be found online but
     you can read this little ditty inspired by it :)
     This is was supposed to be a quick little drabble about an on the
     rebound Stiles sneaking into Derek's nightclub and them hooking up.
     So naturally there's over 15,000 words of feely smut. I don't even
     know guys, I am done with myself lol. I think I tagged appropriately
     but please feel free to let me know if I missed anything :
     ) Constructive criticism is always welcome but please be respectful
     and polite :)
     Here's some things to note: Stiles is underage in this fic and some
     of his inner monologue regarding virginity might be deemed as
     heternomative/offensive. Here's the thing: Stiles is a teenager and
     he's still figuring out who he is, what he believes and where he
     stands. There are things he doesn't quite understand, things he's
     confused about and things he's just not sure of yet. NOTHING is meant
     to be offensive and given that I work with kids everyday who are
     figuring out sex, sexuality, relationships, and what's normal and
     healthy and what's not okay...I find it a pretty fair representation
     of a kid who is just starting to work through and figure stuff out.
     Also his relationship with Ian is emotionally unhealthy and
     unbalanced so please be aware of those themes going forward.
     One final note: Derek and Laura's inappropriate closeness is as
     follows: They sometimes have sex with the same person, but they DO
     NOT have sex with each other and there is no Derek/Stiles/Laura going
     on.
     =====================================================================
See the end of the work for more notes
Stiles wiggled a bit to adjust the fit of his skinny jeans and winced. There
was a fine line between paint and pants and he was pretty sure that line had
frowned at him in disapproval two sizes back. He popped a few breath mints and
resisted the urge to run nervous hands through his hair lest he ruin Lydia's
hard work. Stiles took a deep breath, sent up a prayer, and stepped into line
at Howl, the most underground of underground nightclubs that Beacon Hills had
to offer.
Not that Beacon Hills had any other underground nightclubs but still, Stiles
was there, ready to unleash his inner beast and walk on the wild side.
Jazz hands.
Stiles was pretty much the last person anyone would have expected to find at a
place like Howl. Not that Stiles didn't go out and have fun. He did, it was
just the majority of Stiles's fun had to be dad tested and Sheriff approved. A
place like Howl, an adult nightclub that was mysterious, a little bit dangerous
and a lot provocative would never have gotten the Stilinski stamp of approval.
 Howl was not somewhere the underage son of the local sheriff should have been.
Sheriff's son or not, Stiles wasn't exactly known for playing by the rules.
Even so he'd never done anything quite this reckless before. Coming by himself
to an 'abandoned' warehouse on the outskirts of town that magically transformed
into a nightclub a few select nights out of the month was definitely a step
above occasionally nipping his dad's Jack, sneaking in past curfew or teaming
up with Scott to take on Danny and Jackson in The Great Prank War of 2012. But,
according to every romcom ever and verified by Lydia, being dumped was both a
valid reason and legitimate excuse for making really bad decisions and going
off in search of ill-advised adventure.
It had been three months and Stiles had wallowed over the break up long enough.
He doubted that Ian had spent even a quarter of that time mourning the demise
of their relationship. Stiles bet Ian had spent the last three months hooking
up with anything that had a pulse. Ian was probably balls deep in some poor,
unsuspecting UCLA student while Stiles stood in a long line full of dubious
looking characters, dressed in his least comfortable but most fashionable pair
of pants freezing his ass off and reevaluating his life choices.
At the top of that list was wasting the best years of his admittedly short life
on a complete douchebag who'd ended their almost two year relationship via text
message. The day he'd moved into his dorm Ian had texted Stiles to let him know
that he was breaking up with him, claiming there was no room in his new life
for his old, sexually frustrating, semi-virginal, high school boyfriend.
Stiles may not have taken the break up as well as he could have. Stiles had
gathered everything that reminded him of Ian put it in a box, and set fire to
it. As the fire blazed, Stiles had called his ex and left angry voicemails
inviting Ian, his soul sucking wannabe frat boy persona and heteronormative
definition of virginity to kiss his entire ass.
It wasn't as if Stiles was a complete virgin. They'd been exchanging hand jobs
and having oral sex for the last six months. Sort of, depending on your
definition of 'exchanging'. Ian's definition of exchanging meant that Stiles
had been sucking Ian off and giving Ian hand jobs for the last six months which
Ian had, on the rarest of rare occasions, returned.
Looking back Stiles realized that should have been a neon sign letting him know
that his boyfriend was a selfish jackass.
Burning Ian's crap had been therapeutic…right up until the bushes had caught on
fire and Stiles had ended up needing to dial 911. After that it had just been
embarrassing.
So now Stiles was a single man. He was footloose and fancy free. He was also
determined to unburden himself of both his heartbreak and whatever remained of
his virginity.
Or have a good enough time to forget about Ian and his stupid face for at least
one night.
Stiles was somewhere in the middle of the line, sandwiched behind some drag
queens and the most enthusiastic lesbian couple he'd ever seen outside of porn
when the club's doors finally opened. Stiles thought that the line would start
moving then.  He was wrong.  Instead of everyone getting to go inside a guy who
looked like he'd be at home on a Parisian runway or in a cage match fighting
someone to the deathstalked down the line. He looked over the potential club
goers and turned away anyone who didn't pass inspection.
"What's going on?" Stiles asked one of the drag queens in front of him.
"Oh you're fresher than a newborn aren't you," she sneered as she flicked her
bangs and critically examined Stiles.
"I'm um… yeah I have no idea what that means," Stiles admitted.
"Crystal, stop it. You're gonna scare the poor baby away," another of the
ladies said as she turned around and gave Stiles a brilliant smile. "You have
to excuse Miss Crystal DeCanter, honey. She has a PhD in being an A-S-S. I'm
Pagan Holiday, and the rest of these lovely ladies are Iona Sextoy, Tequila
Mockingbird, and Helen Heels. Now, to answer your question sugar, Bambi's
pulling weeds."
"Bambi's pulling weeds?" Stiles repeated blankly.
"Oh my God, somebody get this bitch a keeper," Crystal muttered under her
breath. At the vicious look she received from her friends she rolled her eyes
and huffed. "Pulling weeds," she enunciated as if she thought Stiles too stupid
to understand the words that came out of her mouth. "Tending the garden and
leaving only the beautiful flowers behind? It means he's making sure none of
the undesirables get through the door. Derek is like TLC when it comes to his
club.  He has a strict no scrubs policy."
As she turned back to her friends Stiles bit his lip. He'd never considered not
getting in. His fake I.D. was top of the line (thank you Danny) and they were
in Beacon Hills. It wasn't exactly a town teeming with people clamoring to get
into a borderline legal nightclub. Then again, Stiles thought as he craned his
neck and surveyed the crowd, maybe it was. The line spanned the length of the
building and then wrapped halfway around the block. Looking over the club goers
Stiles felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. Most of the potential
customers had opted for leather, see through mesh or some other eye catching
form of club wear while the most risqué article of clothing Stiles had on were
his unhealthily tight jeans. Stiles's hopes for getting in plummeted by the
second as Bambi turned more and more people away.
Stiles tried to buck up by telling himself if he got kicked out of line it
wouldn't be the first time he'd been banned from the cool kids table and least
this time no one from school would be there to witness his humiliation.  When
he'd asked for help getting dressed Lydia had assumed he was going to Jungle
and Stiles had been content to let her operate under that assumption rather
than tell her the truth. Stiles figured he didn't have anything to lose. Worst
case scenario, he got branded a 'weed', booted from the line and ended up at
IHOP drowning his sorrows in a Rooty Tooty Fresh N Fruity.
Pagan and her friends were looked over and granted entrance and then it was
Stiles's turn. Bambi stopped in front of him and his ice blue eyes raked over
Stiles's form from top to bottom. The piercing gaze unsettled Stiles, making
him feel as if he were being stripped bare and put on display.  Bambi looked
Stiles over for several moments and Stiles's face heated up as he fidgeted
under the scrutiny. He was about to throw in the towel and forget the whole
thing when Bambi leaned in and sniffed him.
What the ever loving fuck?
"It's Armani," Stiles blurted out because the only reason he could think of for
Bambi to sniff him was that he was offended by or had liked the scent of
Stiles's cologne. Stiles hoped it was the latter and not the former. Stiles was
pretty confident he hadn't overdone it; he'd followed the strict usage
instructions Danny had provided when he'd gifted Stiles with the bottle for
Christmas.  Stiles had maybe not so subtly campaigned for the gift by
constantly stealing Danny's and dropping hints that only good things could come
from one less guy in the locker room wearing Axe.
Bambi (and seriously Stiles needed to find out this dude's name) smiled at
Stiles with way, waytoo many teeth, placed his hand on the small of Stiles's
back and herded him past the front of the line to the bouncer at the door where
Stiles's assumptions were once again proven wrong.
Stiles had figured the bouncer would be some lumberjack WWE type with muscles
on his muscles, like Kristoff at Jungle. Instead, Stiles found himself face to
face with a blonde bombshell poured into what had to be an unholy amount of
tight leather.  She had her full lips painted a burning red and she stared at
Stiles with a wicked glint gleaming in her sloe brown eyes.
"I.D.," Bombshell said, snapping her fingers at Stiles. It had in no way been a
request and Stiles fumbled a little when he pulled it out of his front shirt
pocket and handed it over. Stiles's heart rate sped up as she examined it,
looked at Stiles with sudden interest and then motioned to another employee. A
dark skinned mountain of a man came to the door and Stiles wondered if everyone
who worked at Howl was equal parts attractive and terrifying. The longer the
trio whispered about him, the more Stiles panicked. Stiles suspected he'd been
busted. He thought that they knew he was underage and were trying to decide
what to do with him. From the looks tossed his way Stiles couldn't tell if they
planned to take him out back and kneecap him as a punishment for trying to
sneak in or if they knew who he was and were going to call his dad to come pick
him up.
If those were his only options, Stiles greatly preferred the knee capping to
parental intervention. He was fairly certain a beatdown would be nothing
compared to whatever form of punishment a pissed off and disappointed
Aleksander Stilinski dreamed up.
"Calm down sugar," Bombshell said, her voice full of mischief and false
sweetness. "None of us are gonna hurt you. Much." Stiles was taken off guard
when she reached out and pulled him forward and he stumbled a little before
catching his balance. She stamped his hand and tucked his I.D. back into his
shirt pocket with blinding speed and efficiency before she slapped him on his
ass and pushed him towards the door. "Now you be careful in there, Little Red.
Beware of the big bad wolf." Stiles stared at her for moment and looked down at
his red v-neck curiously before shrugging off the comment and following
Mountain Man into the club.
Stiles felt a little disoriented as flashing lights and pulsating music flooded
his senses. He blinked a bit and took a few steps forward.  He looked around a
little before taking several steps backwards.  When he was back where he'd
started from he felt a heavy weight at his back. Stiles turned around and
stared into Mountain Man's exasperated face.
"Did you come here to stand in the doorway all night or did you come here to
dance?" Mountain Man asked as he shoved Stiles further inside.
"I'm totally gonna shake my groove thang," Stiles said and did a shimmy shake
combination that caused looks of both pity and amusement to flash over Mountain
Man's face. Which, whatever, Stiles's dance moves were legen…wait for it…dary.
"I was just…there's no cover?" Stiles asked.
"Not for you," Mountain Man said. "Have fun. Keep your underage ass away from
my bar and when you see Derek tell him we all expect a raise."
Stiles nodded and before he could ask any more questions Mountain Man
disappeared. Officially on his own, Stiles took a deep breath and marched into
the belly of the beast.
Howl was crowded. The dance floor was like a rolling sea of gyrating bodies
baptized in neon and christened with glitter and sweat. The music crashed into
him almost like a living thing and Stiles felt like the beat pounding in his
bones.The air was thick with something heady and sweet that whispered of sex
and magic and life.  The feeling was otherworldly and it rushed through his
veins.  He felt exhilarated, excited and almost as if he'd been drugged.
Adrenaline flooded through him as he surveyed the crowd. Pagan and her friends
were at the bar flirting with Mountain Man and quickly making their sobriety a
thing of the past. Out on the dance floor tangled masses of flesh in various
states of dress ground and writhed against one another. In the booths along the
walls people made out, exchanging heated kisses and running eager hands over
willing bodies.  Unconcerned with privacy, they put on a show and almost dared
people to watch.
The back of the club had been curtained off by a velvet rope. A tall, stunning
brunette in a skin tight black lace dress seemed to be in charge of whom could
enter.  The brunette wasn't letting anyone in because everyone who approached
her got turned away. Some accepted the snub with more grace than others but no
one openly challenged her.  As Stiles watched her, the somewhat bored
expression slid from her face and she appeared to get excited about something.
She scanned the crowd and then her gaze landed on Stiles. She locked eyes with
him and the corners of her lips twisted up into a tease of a smile. She blew
Stiles a kiss which caused him to flush and look away.
So yeah. Hot older woman checking him out? Totally a thing that just happened.
His confidence boosted, Stiles made his way to the bar. Since he'd driven
himself to the club and Mountain Man had made it clear he wouldn't serve him,
Stiles knew that alcohol wasn't an option but it was hot and he was thirsty.
 He figured if he ordered a virgin daiquiri or something it would at least help
him look less like a high school kid who had snuck in, even if that's exactly
what he was.
"Are you hard of hearing?" Mountain asked without looking up as Stiles settled
on a stool in front of him. "Because I know ASL and if need be I can sign it
for you: Get your underage ass away from my bar."
"I just want-"
"What you want is to get your underage ass away from my bar."
"Dude," Stiles said, as he widened his eyes in his best puppy dog impression.
"I'm thirsty. It's hot in here and I'm dry man, dry like the Sahara. Like the
Gobi. How would you feel if I dehydrated? I bet you would feel bad. You look
like a compassionate…ish guy. I'm not saying you have to beer me but c'mon
man,hook a brother up." Stiles whined.
Mountain Man rolled his eyes and tossed Stiles a bottled water.
Stiles pouted. "It's not even cold."
"I'll take it back," Mountain Man threatened.
Stiles clutched the bottle to his chest. "It's mine. You can't have the
precious."
Mountain Man leveled a look at Stiles that indicated he questioned Stiles's
mental acumen and made a shooing motion. "Step aside, Little Red. You're in the
way of the paying customers."
Stiles began pulling a few bills out of his pocket. "My bad, dude. How much do
I-"
Mountain Man shook his head. "It's on the house."
"Uh huh," Stiles said, suspiciously as he inspected the bottle to make sure the
seal wasn't broken on the cap. Mountain Man gave him a lookwhich Stiles
returned and that inexplicably resulted in Mountain Man outright laughing at
him.
"Kid, if I was gonna roofie you I would have given you a real drink," Mountain
Man explained.
"Spend a lot of time figuring out how to roofie the unsuspecting public,"
Stiles asked subjecting Mountain Man to another squinting assessment.
"No," Mountain Man said evenly as he prepared a round of drinks for a blonde
co-ed and her friends. "But working with the public as I do, I spend a fair
amount of time contemplating how to get away with murder. I read on the
internet that if you bury a dead body six feet under a dead animal it'll throw
off the cadaver dogs."
Stiles choked on his drink. "Ha ha funny joke."
"Who's joking?" Mountain Man asked sighing heavily as one of the co-eds nearly
fell over the bar in an attempt to shove her barely covered boobs in his face.
Stiles paused, mouth open and a little bit of water dribbled down his chin.  He
swallowed and then coughed.   "I think I'm just gonna go over…someplace that's
not here," Stiles said as he slid away from the bar slowly.
"I think that's a good idea," Mountain Man said as he collected tips from the
co-eds while discreetly disposing of the phone numbers he'd been passed.
"Okay," Stiles said to himself as he settled into his new place at end the bar
away from Mountain Man. "On the plus side, there are hot people here and I got
in free. On the minus side, I may have made an enemy of a drag queen and the
bug fuck crazy bartender might actually be a serial killer."
A laugh rang out and Stiles looked up sharply. Mountain Man saluted him with a
drink and mimed slitting his throat.
"A serial killer with the ears of a fucking bat. That's it; the white flag has
been waved and that's the end of tonight's adventure," Stiles mumbled. He
spilled his water as he scrambled up. "Gonna hit up IHOP, go home, play some
WoW, maybe Skype with Scott, and be grateful that I'm not in a hole putting
lotion in a basket. Okay yes, that is a good plan. That is my plan," Stiles
muttered as he mopped up the spill.
Or it at least that had been his plan until Stiles felt a body at his back and
heard a pleasant voice in his ear.
"Dance with me?"
Stiles snuck a quick peek over his shoulder and was greeted by the site of big
blue eyes, fire kissed hair and an earnest smile.  He took a moment to weigh
the pros and cons. He could dance with a cute guy and give the potentially
homicidal bartender more time to plan his murder or go home and end up having
struggled into the skinniest of skinny jeans for no reason.
Stiles knew what the old, Ian dating Stiles would have done.
And that is why he did the exact opposite.
"Sure," Stiles said as he stood up and smiled at the guy who really was pretty
cute. His name was Jason, he was just a touch shorter than Stiles, but Stiles
decided he could work with that.
What Stiles couldn't work with was the way Jason took Beyonce's advice and made
repeated attempts to "grind up on him and show him how you ride it". Or at
least that's what Jason had whispered in Stiles's ear when he'd grabbed a
handful of Stiles's ass and squeezed.
Never before had Stiles felt so betrayed by his Queen Bey.
As soon as the song ended Stiles stepped away and swiftly retreated back to the
relative safety of the bar.
"Not a word," Stiles warned Mountain Man as he reclaimed his seat.
"Oh, killing me softly and I'm still falling," Mountain Man sung under his
breath.
"I hate you," Stiles grumbled. "You are the worst."
"Since it's an upgrade from bug fuck crazy, I'll take it." Mountain Man
replied.  He winked at Stiles and handing him another water.
"The worst," Stiles repeated before he cracked the seal on the bottle and took
a long drink. "What's your name anyway because I keep calling you Mountain Man
in my head. I'm Miguel, if you were wondering."
"My name's Boyd and your name isn't Miguel."
"My name is totally Miguel," Stiles insisted, affronted on behalf of his fake
I.D. "Give me one good reason you think my name isn't Miguel."
"Because everybody in Beacon Hills knows who the Sheriff's kid is," Boyd
grinned. "And his name ain't Miguel…Stiles."
"Aww hell," Stiles sighed. "But if you knew why did you guys let me in?"
Boyd didn't answer. He squeezed Stiles's forearm and left Stiles sitting there
while he went back to making drinks. Stiles sat alone for a few minutes before
he got invited to dance again, this time by a girl with punk purple hair, a shy
smile and a killer body.
Stiles had been a little nervous about not having anyone at the club to watch
his back but then he'd felt eyes on him and looked around to discover that both
Boyd and Ruby (which was what he'd taken to calling the goddess guarding the
velvet rope because she reminded him of Ruby from Once Upon A Time) were
keeping an eye out for him. Instead of being freaked out by their not so covert
surveillance, Stiles had taken a strange sort of comfort in being watched over.
After awhile Stiles relaxed and got caught up in a whirlwind of activity. He
danced with the girl-Amanda-two more times before being stolen away to dance
with several more people, including Pagan and her friends. Stiles lost himself
and his inhibitions in the music and the push-pull of warm, willing bodies
against his.
Stiles might have enjoyed the attention a little more than was healthy. Stiles
knew he hadn't been beaten by the ugly stick or anything like that, but his
social circle didn't do his self-esteem any favors. Scott and Lydia were his
best friends and there wasn't anything average about Lydia's strawberry blonde
perfection.  Uneven jawline or not, Stiles had seen more than enough girls-and
quite a few guys- giving Scott the eye, especially when his shirt was off. Add
to that Allison and Jackson, who were so perfect they could be cast in the
roles of prince and princess in the next Disney movie.  And then there was
Danny who was the reigning President of The Great Genes Club and Ian-asshole he
may have been-was the type of guy that made people do a double take when he
walked by.
People noticed his friends because they all looked like they should be starring
on a CW drama.  When people noticed Stiles it was because of his sense of
humor, his intelligence, or overall personality.  Stiles was used to being in
the background and having to tell a few jokes or have a little conversation
before anyone displayed any interest in him.  But that wasn't the case at Howl.
People had looked at Stiles, liked what they'd seen and approached him. Maybe
it was shallow of him but it was a head rush, having people interested in him
strictly because of the way he looked. It was a new experience and Stiles fed
off of it. Under the hot lights of the club with the music pumping, the alcohol
flowing and all the attention focused on Stiles, he felt wanted, sexy and more
than a little bit powerful.
Take that Ian!
Currently, Stiles was dancing with the guy formerly known as Bambi and
presently known as Isaac. They'd been dancing together for awhile so Stiles
didn't protest when Isaac tugged on his belt and dragged him closer, putting
their hips flush together and spreading his hands across the small of Stiles's
back. Stiles followed Isaac's lead and for the first time that night flirted
with the idea of letting someone take him home. After all, hanging onto what
was left of his virginity hadn't done him any favors and according to Lydia
virginity was just a social construct anyway. Stiles didn't exactly know what
that meant but if Lydia said it, then it had to be true.  What Stiles did know
was that all virginity had ever done for him was get him pressured (by Ian) and
mocked (again by Ian) and then dumped (once more with feeling, by Ian).
Huh. Maybe virginity hadn't been the problem. Maybe the problem had been Ian.
Stiles made a mental note to ponder that later because at the moment Isaac was
hot and Stiles was getting turned on. So much so that he didn't even blink when
another body slid behind him and pressed in close. The new guy picked up their
rhythm, splayed a large hand over Stiles's midsection and drew Stiles back into
him. Stiles relaxed against his new dance partner and then the guy buried his
head into the crook of Stiles's neck and… sniffed him.
After being sniffed for the second time that night, Stiles wondered if Howl
catered to people with a smell kink of some kind. He got some distance between
them and turned his head so he could get a good look at the guy. As soon as he
turned, Stiles found himself staring at the most attractive person he had ever
seen outside of the movies.
And Stiles meant all of the movies, up to and including anime and porn.
Jackson had totally just lost his part and the role of Disney Prince was now
being played by Hot Club Guy.
He was a bit taller than Stiles with sun kissed skin, a strong jaw peppered
with stubble, and dark hair that looked so soft Stiles felt his fingers curl
with the desire to touch. His sharp green eyes looked predatory even as they
were blown wide with want and his lips were just the right amount of full- like
soft, fluffy pillows of perfection that Stiles wanted to bite.
And hello Stiles Jr. Nice of you to join the party.
The guy wasn't overly built but he was solid and when Stiles laid an
exploratory hand on his forearm muscles rippled underneath his touch. Stiles
had always fantasized about being fucked up against a wall and Adonis (that's
what Stiles dubbed him since there was no way he was a normal human being)
looked like the kind of guy that could easily turn that fantasy into a reality.
Adonis leaned in over Stiles's shoulder and said something to Isaac that made
Isaac smile and then step away, leaving Stiles alone with Adonis on the dance
floor. Before Stiles could protest Isaac's departure, Adonis leaned in and
whispered in Stiles's ear in a voice that was as smooth as silk and as rich as
sin, "I've been watching you since you walked through the door and I have to
say, my people were right about you. You're absolutely perfect for me."
A knuckle brushed ever so faintly over his cock as Stiles's shirt was rucked up
and hot hands found their way underneath, fingernails lightly scratching over
his happy trail and fingertips ghosting over his abs. "Oh my God," Stiles
groaned, arching back into the solid wall of muscle behind him.
"Actually it's Derek," Adonis-no Derek-chuckled. "But you can call me God if it
that's what works for you."
"Derek," Stiles repeated and then remembered Boyd's words from earlier. "Boyd,
Isaac, and the terrifyingly beautiful blonde at the door expect a raise," he
relayed dutifully.
"Do they now?" Derek drawled as he nosed along Stiles's jawline. "I suppose
they've earned it."
There was something vaguely dangerous about Derek but Stiles had been prepared
for danger from the moment he'd pulled into the parking lot. Danger was why he
had pulled into the parking lot. He'd wanted to do something reckless, make a
bad decision and Derek... Derek looked the best kind of bad decision. Derek
looked like the kind of bad decision that Stiles could make many, many times,
several times in a row, in several different positions.
"Ooh little brother, what have we here?" Ruby asked as she stepped in front of
Stiles boxing him in between the two of them.
Stiles struggled to keep his eyes on her (unbelievably) gorgeous face but he
lost that battle when she pressed up against him, slipped her fingers into his
belt loops and pulled him forward. His eyes drifted down, over her bosom,
across her hips and followed long, shapely legs before they snapped back up to
meet amused hazel eyes.
"Like what you see?" She challenged.
"Behave Laura," Derek murmured as he continued to run his hands under Stiles's
t-shirt, tweaking his nipples.
"I'm pretty sure this is the part in the Stranger Danger presentation where I'm
supposed to say I need an adult," Stiles quipped.
Laura licked her lips and winked at Stiles.  "I volunteer." 
"Laura," Derek warned.
Stiles bit off a moan as Derek's teeth scraped over the tender flesh of his
earlobe. Derek pulled Stiles away from Laura and back up against him. "S-so I'm
guessing you don't play well with others," Stiles joked.
"Actually Derek usually doesn't have a problem sharing his toys with me," Laura
corrected Stiles, sliding the pad of her thumb over his bottom lip. "But
something tells me that my baby brother wants you all to himself," she remarked
patting Stiles on the cheek.
Before Stiles responded to that brain melting news Derek spun him around so
they faced each other. "She's right. I do want you all to myself," Derek said
as his eyes roved over Stiles, hot and hungry. Stiles's throat went dry and he
nervously licked his lips. Derek's eyes darkened and he dipped his head
forward, going slow enough so that Stiles could pull away if he wanted to.
Stiles didn't want to.
"Congratulations little brother," Laura murmured before she left the two of
them alone. Stiles hardly registered her leaving because at that moment Derek
captured his lips in a kiss that threatened to make Stiles shoot off in the
middle of the club. Derek didn't kiss so much as devour and he left Stiles no
choice but to yield as he licked into his mouth with savage intensity, leaving
none of its sweetness left unexplored.
Ian had never kissed him the way Derek did. Stiles suspected that there wasn't
another person on the planet that knew how to kiss with kind of intent and
intensity that Derek did. Ian's kisses had always asked; Derek's demanded and
Stiles loved the difference. He slid his fingers into Derek's hair, mapping the
contours of Derek's skull and scratching lightly along his scalp.
Stiles completely forgot they were in the middle of a crowded nightclub as
Derek worked him over. His cock throbbed and Stiles bucked against Derek in
search of friction. Derek didn't miss a beat, sliding a thigh between Stiles's
legs and pressing up into him in a move that nearly took Stiles off his feet.
"I hate these pants," Stiles muttered, tearing his mouth away from Derek's.
"Stupid, stupid too tight pants that are in no way comfortable, crushing my
dick, won't let me feel anything and oh my God I just said that out loud,"
Stiles groaned. "Um so…I'm Stiles and occasionally I say really inappropriate
things completely unaware I'm actually saying them out loud. And just so you
know, by occasionally I mean all the time."
Derek smirked and brought his lips up to the shell of Stiles's ear. "Here's
what's about to happen," he whispered. "I'm going to take you into my private
booth, spread you out, wrap my lips around your cock and make you come so you
can take the edge off. After I finish with you here, we're going to leave out
the back. Then I'm going to take you home and do my level best to fuck you
until the only name you can remember is mine. Is there any part of that you
have a problem with?"
Stiles whimpered and pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. When he'd
entered Howl he'd had hope for the possibility that maybe he'd find someone to
hook up with to take his mind off of Ian. He'd never imagined that he'd end up
with someone like Derek, someone unbelievably sexy who wanted Stiles badly
enough that he was going to suck him off right there and then.
"I'd like to thank God and also Jesus," Stiles said solemnly before he looked
at Derek and nodded. "Yes. I would like…all of that. Just yeah, that whole
thing that you just said? Every part of that is cool with me."
"Good," Derek said, smiling wickedly and pulling Stiles towards Laura and the
curtained off VIP section. Stiles stumbled a couple of times but he managed to
both keep pace with Derek and not bump into any of the other dancers as they
made their way across the floor.
Goosebumps erupted over his skin and he suppressed a full body shiver. Stiles
acknowledged that he may have been more excited than the average bear at the
prospect of having his dick sucked. It wasn't as if he'd never had a blowjob,
but they had been few and far between because Ian had always preferred for
Stiles to be the one on his knees.
"Try not to break him," Laura cooed as she unhooked the velvet rope that
separated Derek's private area from the rest of the club. Stiles scarcely had
time to take in the rich red velvet, smooth black leather and glittering glass
design of the room before Derek shoved him down into one of the booths. Stiles
sank into the plush cushions and bit back a curse as Derek fell to his knees,
hands making their way up Stiles's thighs, over his hips, up his slim torso and
back down as he nuzzled at the obscene bulge in Stiles's crotch, sucked his
lush bottom lip between his teeth and peeked up at Stiles coyly from beneath
his lashes.
"C-condom's in my-"
"Don't need one," Derek replied.
"Uh, yeah we do," Stiles insisted.
"I know that I'm negative," Derek said seriously making eye contact with
Stiles. "And I'm pretty confident that you are too. Am I'm wrong?" Derek asked.
"No," Stiles admitted softly. "You're not wrong. I'm totally in the clear." And
he was. Stiles had gotten tested twice in the last three months since he and
Ian had called it quits just to make sure.
"Then I think we're good here," Derek said. He licked his lips again and began
working on Stiles's belt.
"Oh fuck me," Stiles moaned at the sight of Derek, eyes darkened with need,
skin flushed, and lips shiny with spit. Stiles ignored every safe sex lecture
he'd ever heard as his head fell back and he closed his eyes, hissing out in
pleasure as Derek mouthed over his clothed erection.
Stiles fisted Derek's hair as he panted above him. "Derek…please," he begged
not caring how desperate it made him sound. As soon as the plea left his lips
Derek unzipped him, manhandling Stiles's pants and boxers over his hips and
down his legs. Stiles didn't even have time to blink as Derek slung one strong
arm over his hips to keep him anchored to the cushions and wrapped his lips
around him. "Oh sweet motherfucking niblets," Stiles moaned as he closed his
eyes.
Almost immediately the hot, wet suction was gone and Stiles opened his eyes to
see Derek sitting back on his heels laughing.
"Nooo," Stiles scowled. "You don't get to laugh at me. Your mouth man…you have
no idea what your mouth is like. I cannot be held responsible for whatever
stupid shit I say when I have my dick in your mouth."
"Seriously?" Derek asked. "Sweet niblets?"
"I had a phase," Stiles said as he glared down at Derek defensively.
"So did my nine year old sister," Derek laughed.
"I was babysitting over the summer and the kids lived off of Disney Channel
reruns and you know what-I am suddenly very much not in the mood for this
anymore," Stiles huffed as he struggled to get up.
Faster than Stiles believed a person could move Derek was off his knees and
looming over him. "No," he said lowly, "I'm not done with you yet."
"Yeah well, more sucking my dick and less of you being a dick would be
appreciated," Stiles grumbled.
"If that's what you want," Derek said planting a large hand in the center of
Stiles's chest and shoving him back down. "Then you need to lie back, shut up,
and do what you're told."
"Yes Derek, whatever you say Derek," Stiles mocked.
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little young to be quoting The O.C.?"
"Soapnet marathon with Lydi-ah!" Stiles choked off a scream as Derek licked a
sinful stripe from the base of his cock all the way to the tip before he
circled the head.
Stiles thought he would consider it a personal best if he managed not to come
in the next sixty seconds.
Stiles legitimately couldn't remember the last time Ian had given him a blowjob
but it didn't matter because Ian had never given him a blowjob like this
before. "Derek!" Stiles cried out, curling his fingers in Derek's hair as Derek
began to hum around his cock.
"Oh f-fuck you," Stiles stuttered as he realized that Derek was humming the
theme song to Wizards of Waverly Place. Derek narrowed his eyes in response and
sucked Stiles down entirely in retaliation. Suddenly everything was hot and wet
and perfect. Stiles was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven because he
couldn't imagine anything on earth that felt as good as Derek's mouth.
Derek's hands slid beneath him, cupped his ass and dragged him to the edge of
the velvet couch, kneading the pale globes as Derek's mouth pushed him into a
state of frenzy. Derek's touch was hot and rough and Stiles melted under it.
Ian had never touched him like this, as if Stiles were his for the taking.
Stiles found that he liked the change, liked the way Derek touched him like he
owned him and took what he wanted. Derek moaned around him, relaxed his throat
and took him deeper. He loosened his grip on Stiles's hips, encouraging Stiles
to thrust into his mouth.
Stiles moaned like the bastard child of a whore and a porn star. He would have
been embarrassed except he'd given his dignity up as a lost cause the moment
Derek's lips had wrapped around his cock. Stiles pumped his hips while Derek
sucked him down as if making Stiles come was his life's work. Stiles had never
engaged in all that much PDA with Ian so by rights a semi-public blowjob should
have been too far out of his comfort zone to even contemplate, but Stiles found
that he got off on the idea that maybe other people had seen him enter the room
with Derek and knew exactly what the two of them were doing.
Sooner than Stiles wanted he felt his balls tighten and the muscles in his
abdomen clench. "D-Derek," he whined. "I'm gonna…oh shit…I'm gonna come," he
warned, trying to pull Derek off but Derek only reached up, batted Stiles's
hands away and redoubled his efforts to drag an orgasm out of Stiles, massaging
his balls and playing around the rim of his hole.
Stiles bit down on his fist in an attempt to muffle his cry as he arched his
back and came, hot and hard, down Derek's throat. Derek didn't pull off, didn't
even stop. Derek sucked him through his orgasm until Stiles lay on the
cushions, completely spent and utterly boneless.
Derek cleaned Stiles up with his tongue, petting his thighs and nuzzling his
stomach, hands gently massaging Stiles's ass as he dropped kisses onto the
finger shaped bruises he'd left on Stile's hip bones. "Come on sweetheart, up
you go," Derek ordered, his voice rough as he rose gracefully from his knees
and pulled Stiles to his feet.
"That was so…" Stiles trailed off, unable to find the words for what he wanted
to say.
"Yeah it was," Derek agreed pulling Stiles's clothes up and redressing him.
"You're okay, right?" He asked as he looked at Stiles with genuine concern.
"I feel like I should be asking you that," Stiles said softly as he nodded,
reaching out and tangling his fingers in the hem of Derek's shirt. "I've
never…it wasn't like that before," he finished helplessly.
Derek made a rough noise and Stiles startled a bit, stepping back. "I want you
to forget about before," Derek said softly. "You're here now, with me and
that's what matters."
"I like being here with you," Stiles admitted.
Derek smiled and kissed him. He left a trail of butterfly kisses up Stiles's
neck and along his jawline, nipping every so often and then soothing the hurt
with his tongue.
"You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Derek asked Stiles quietly. "Whoever he
was, he didn't know how to handle you. He's a fool who had no idea what he
had."
Stiles swallowed and tried to calm his racing heart. "How um, how would you
handle me?"
Derek bit down hard on Stiles's throat, causing his knees to buckle as he sank
into the solid press of Derek's body. "However you'd let me," he answered
huskily. "And you would let me, wouldn't you Stiles?"
"God yes," Stiles gasped out, closing his eyes and practically plastering
himself to Derek. Stiles wasn't entirely sure what was going on but he didn't
want to question it. Derek had given him everything he'd come out that night
looking for, as well as things he hadn't known he wanted or needed.
And Stiles needed, he needed even more than he wanted and that was an almost
scary realization for him to have.
It was as if being with Derek had unlocked an unknown part of Stiles that
wanted nothing more than to yield, to let the older man hold him down and take
complete control. He wanted to give Derek all his secrets and show him all his
vulnerabilities, trust that Derek could take him apart and then put him back
together again. He'd never wanted that with Ian, never trusted him enough to
let him get close enough to even try, and he didn't understand how Derek had
managed to breach more of his defenses in one night than Ian had almost two
years. Stiles was pretty sure that he wasn't going to get more than one night
with Derek, but he was determined to make the most of whatever time they had
together.
Stiles tilted his head up and Derek covered his lips with his own, dragging his
hands up Stiles's body until he cupped his face, drawing him in closer and
kissing him like he meant it. Stiles could taste himself on Derek's tongue and
he felt Derek, hard and throbbing against his hip.
"Do you want me to?" Stiles asked gesturing towards Derek's jean clad erection.
"I can wait," Derek assured him, taking Stiles by the hand and leading him
deeper into the back of the room, behind a heavy partition to a well hidden
door.
Pieces of a puzzle started sliding into place for Stiles. Crystal's comment
about Derek not wanting scrubs in his club, Boyd's request for a raise, the
fact that Derek had referred to his 'private booth' and he'd been the only
person Laura had allowed back here all led Stiles to one conclusion: Howl was
Derek's club. And if Howl was Derek's club…
Realization dawned for Stiles and he suddenly stopped moving, causing Derek to
stop as well and give him a questioning glance.
"What's your last name?" Stiles asked seeking confirmation of his suspicions.
Derek gave Stiles a small kiss on his forehead. "I'm pretty sure there's some
social nicety against asking questions you already know the answer to."
"And I'm pretty sure you didn't answer my question," Stiles fired back.
Derek smirked. "Do you really need me to, Mr. Stilinski?"
"No I really don't," Stiles said, trying to cover his surprise that Derek knew
his last name. "You're Derek Hale. Derek Hale knows who I am and…you're Derek
Hale."
Stiles, like everyone else in the community, knew who the Hales were. The
family had been among the first to settle in the Beacon Hills area and they
were extremely well respected, excessively wealthy, and at the top of the towns
social and societal food chain.
They were also incredibly close knit, somewhat secretive and had at least one
major skeleton rattling around in their closet.
Stiles remembered that a few years back there had been some sort of scandal
involving the Hales son Derek and Allison's aunt Kate. The details were sketchy
but it had ended in a quickie trial and Kate being convicted of several counts
of conspiracy to commit murder, conspiracy to commit arson and a laundry list
of other charges. Derek had been a teenager at the time and in the wake of the
trial he had been shuttled out of town to live with his uncle Peter in order to
protect him from the gossip. Story was that his older sister Laura had elected
to go with him and as far as Stiles knew no one had seen Derek or Laura again
until a few months ago when they suddenly reemerged with Peter in tow. Stiles
recalled his father mentioning that since their return Derek and Laura had
purchased several residential and commercial properties and that Peter had
joined Christian Whittemore's law firm.
"Yes, I know who you are and yes, I'm Derek Hale. Have been since the day I was
born," Derek confirmed, pulling Stiles back to the present.
"That's totally awesome," Stiles said. "For you, I mean. What I meant is that
it's awesome that you're you and this place is yours because this place is
awesome and uh-"
"I'm rather partial to it," Derek mercifully interrupted. "I'm not sure this is
exactly what my parents expected me to do with my Ivy League education but it's
working out just fine."
"I bet it is. Dude this place is all anyone can talk about. Why'd you name it
Howl anyway?" Stiles asked. "Don't tell me it's a Twilight reference. Hate to
break it to you buddy but there are no wolves in California."
An unreadable expression crossed Derek's face and then he pressed another kiss
onto Stiles's lips. "I had my reasons," he answered, getting Stiles moving
again and leading him through the door. They ended up in a dark hallway where
they bumped into Boyd, who smothered a grin at the sight of the two of them and
inclined his head towards the exit door.
"Isaac pulled your car around for you," he told Derek.
Derek nodded and hustled Stiles to the exit. Just as they reached the door,
Derek suddenly turned and pushed Stiles into the wall, kissing him again, lazy
and languid. Derek's kisses were some kind of drug and Stiles had quickly
become an addict because he couldn't get enough of them as they made out.
Stiles enjoyed kissing Derek-he really enjoyed kissing Derek-but Stiles was
Stiles and now that he knew for sure who Derek was he had questions. And Stiles
had never been very good at stifling his curiosity even at the most inopportune
moments.
"What did Laura mean earlier," Stiles asked breathlessly, pushing against the
solid mass of muscle that was Derek's chest to create some space between the
two of them. "About you two sharing?"
Derek chuckled darkly and gave Stiles a predatory and hungry look that went
straight to Stiles's cock. "Laura and I tend to enjoy the same things," Derek
shrugged. "Occasionally we enjoy them together."
"Things as in people," Stiles clarified.
"Among other things," Derek answered him.
Though he was technically an only child, Stiles thought of Scott was his
brother from another mother. He briefly tried to imagine the two of them
sharing Allison or Ian and yeah…that was a really unpleasant visual that Stiles
vowed to never revisit again as long as he lived.
"How does that even work?" Stiles blurted out. "Scott's not even my real
brother and Allison is hot like fire but my junk being anywhere near Scott's
junk would not bring sexy back. In fact, I'm pretty sure it would result in
sexy changing its name and going into the Witness Protection Program. Not to
put too fine a point on it, but it's likely that would result in some hard core
sexual dysfunction. Seriously dude, they haven't invented the blue pill that
would clear that shit up," Stiles said. "No offense," he added weakly.
"None taken," Derek assured him reaching out and squeezing Stiles's hips. "Our
family's a little different from most, Stiles. We're close…incredibly close and
Laura and I have always had a very special bond."
"How special?" Stiles asked, not sure if it would be considered rude to just
come out and ask Derek if he was boning his own sister.
"Not that special," Derek laughed, obviously guessing where Stiles's thoughts
had led him.
"How did you even start…sharing?"
"After I graduated college I brought a few clubs in LA and Laura managed them
for me. I would come in every so often to make sure everything was running
smoothly and if someone there caught my eye and I'd hook up with them. One
night I was dancing with a guy and the next thing I knew he'd called Laura
over. We shared a few drinks, danced a little more, and we all ended up at back
at my place."
"And he was okay with that?"
"He initiated it," Derek informed Stiles.
"So you and Laura don't-"
"I've never fucked my sister Stiles," Derek said, biting briefly on Stiles's
lower lip before he released it. "Nor do I want to. When Laura and I share
that's exactly what it is. And we don't share everything."
Stiles couldn't help it. He made a sound that was somewhere between a dying
whale and a Dalek as his eyes slid shut and fisted his hands in Derek's shirt.
"Oh thank fuck," he breathed. "Not that there's anything wrong with being the
tasty middle of a Hale sandwich but I just don't think I'm ready for that."
"Don't worry," Derek said burying his face in the crook of Stiles's neck and
breathing him in. "I have no intention of sharing you with Laura or anyone
else." He pulled Stiles away from the wall. "If there's nothing else, I'd
really like to take you home now," Derek murmured.
"Okay," Stiles agreed shakily.
The drive to Derek's loft was short but they used to the time to get to know
each other. Derek let Stiles dictate the conversation and whenever he went off
onto a tangent or veered wildly off topic Derek firmly reined him back in and
got him refocused. Derek teased Stiles about his love of comics and Stiles
accused Derek of being a hipster when he found out that he only listened to
college radio and indie rock. Somewhere in the back of his mind a little voice
told Stiles that he could get used to having Derek around and Stiles ignored
that little voice for as long as he could and then threatened to rip out its
vocal chords if it didn't shut up.
When they reached Derek's apartment complex he hustled Stiles out of the car,
into the building and up to his loft in record time. It wasn't until Stiles
heard the tumblers of Derek's lock click with the turning of his key that it
hit him that he was about to sleep with a man he'd just met..
And Derek was a man.  A fully grown, college educated man and Stiles still had
a few months to go before he graduated high school.  This wasn't anything that
Stiles had ever imagined himself doing but he wasn't going to back out and he
wasn't having regrets or second thoughts. Even so, he was incredibly nervous
and couldn't help the slight shake in his hands as he tugged on the hem of his
shirt while he waited for Derek to open the door.
As soon as they were inside Stiles was lifted off of the ground and pushed back
into the closed door, Derek's mouth slotted over his and Derek's body flush
against his own.
Derek's hands tangled in Stiles's hair, yanking on the short tresses and
causing Stiles to release a needy moan that was quickly swallowed up by Derek's
mouth. Stiles hardened as Derek pressed an insistent thigh between his legs,
placed both hands under his thighs and suddenly lifted him up. Stiles
instinctively wrapped his legs around Derek's waist as Derek carried him up a
spiral staircase. They stumbled down the hallway, bumping into walls and
knocking pictures into the ground, tangled together and unable to stop kissing.
The minute they reached the bedroom, Derek put Stiles on his feet and stripped
him out of his shirt. Stiles didn't have time to grow self-conscious before he
was pushed back onto a luxurious bed that had already been turned down and
long, wicked fingers removed his shoes and socks then undid his belt and popped
the button on his jeans.
And then, because it was Stiles and the universe hated him, the zipper on his
skinny jeans got stuck. Derek looked so personally offended that Stiles
couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up and spilled over. Derek glared at
him and then went back to work on the zipper to no avail. Derek eventually
tired of wrestling with it and when the sound of ripping fabric filled the air
Stiles couldn't find a single fuck to give because it meant that Derek could
finish undressing him. Soon enough Stiles was as naked as the day he was born,
lying in the middle of Derek's bed as Derek stared down at him.
Suddenly Stiles felt incredibly vulnerable as he realized that while he was
naked, Derek was still fully dressed.
"Tell me what you want," Derek asked not moving to undress or touch Stiles.
"Is this where I say world peace," Stiles joked, refusing to look Derek in the
eye.
"No," Derek said, taking Stiles's chin and gently forcing his eyes up to meet
his. "This is where you tell me what you want."
"I thought you were going to do your level best to fuck me until I forgot my
name," Stiles reminded him.  "Hence the nakedness and all."
"Is that what you want?" Derek asked him quietly. "Do you want me to fuck you,
Stiles?"
"Do you want to fuck me?" Stiles countered quickly.
"What I want is to make sure you understand what we're doing here and that you
don't have second thoughts or doubts," Derek explained. "So tell me, what do
you want."
Stiles went hot then cold all over as Derek's words washed over him. He made
eye contact with Derek and nodded. "You should know your timing sucks.  We
totally should have had this conversation before I got all naked but yeah,
Derek, I want this. I want you. I want you to f-fuck me."
As soon as Stiles made his admission, Derek dipped his head down and kissed
him, trailing kisses over his face, into his throat, across his collarbone and
over his chest. "You don't even know how beautiful you are," Derek murmured as
he traced a path between the moles on Stiles's torso. "The things I'm going to
do you," Derek promised as he rose and quickly removed his own clothing.
"Jesus," Stiles whispered as a shiver rolled through him at his first sight of
Derek, bronze, toned and perfectly proportioned with washboard abs, strong
thighs and muscled biceps. When Derek turned to toss his clothes onto the
floor, Stiles got a glimpse of a triskelion tattoo etched across Derek's back.
Stiles's mouth wateredwith how badly he wanted to trace over it with his tongue
and taste the smooth expanse of all that bare skin. "You cannot just say things
like that," he told Derek.
"Not even if it's true?" Derek asked. He bent his head, took one of Stiles's
nipples into his mouth and teased it to a stiff peak with his teeth and tongue
before moving over to the other one and repeating the process. "You feel so
fucking good," Derek breathed.
"Isn't that my line," Stiles asked, as he brought his hands around and mapped
the breadth of Derek's upper back and then followed the dips of his spine down
to his perfectly shaped ass.
Stiles bit down on Derek's shoulder to keep from crying out and then moved on
to the underside of his jaw, whimpering into Derek's ear and making little
kitten licks over his throat. "You have a fantastic ass," Stiles said, taking a
handful and squeezing it.
"I have a fantastic everything," Derek murmured back, taking his hands and
pushing Stiles's legs further apart. Derek arranged himself so that he fit
within the cradle of Stiles's body and their leaking cocks were perfectly
aligned. Derek caught Stiles in a wet, filthy kiss as he rocked them together.
Before the pleasure became too much, Derek stopped and slipped down Stiles's
body spreading his thighs wide. "Come back," Stiles whined, reaching out and
grabbing at Derek, trying to pull him back up.
"Relax, Stiles. Trust me, I'm gonna make sure you get what you need," Derek
soothed. He used the tip of his tongue to trace Stiles's happy trail and
swirled it around in his belly button before going lower. Stiles thought that
he was going to be on the receiving end of another blow job but Derek surprised
him by placing a sharp bite on his inner thigh. Stiles jerked and swore at the
sensation and Derek chuckled before diving back down and running the flat of
his tongue between Stiles's cheeks.
"Omigod omigod omigod omigod that is rimming," Stiles gasped. "You are rimming
me. Rimming is an actual thing that is happening to me right now and you are
doing it omigod Derek," Stiles babbled. Stiles's blood heated and arousal
pooled low in his belly at the idea of Derek doing something so intimate to
him.
Derek pulled back and looked at Stiles, his expression thoughtful but then he
gave Stiles an almost feral grin, and spread Stiles's cheeks apart to hold him
open and began rimming him in earnest.
It was almost as if Derek had decided to fill in all the blanks in Stiles's
sexual history in one scorching hot night. Rimming was a thing that had never
even been on the table with Ian, except for his assurance that Stiles could
"eat his ass" if Stiles wanted but he wasn't going to be returning the favor.
Upon further reflection Stiles realized their entire relationship had been like
that. Stiles had done a lot of things for Ian that Ian had refused to do for
Stiles, in and out of bed. After just a few hours with Derek, Stiles had begun
to realize just how unbalanced and unhealthy his relationship had really been.
As Derek pressed the tip of his tongue past the tight ring of muscle Stiles
lost all ability to remember Ian's name or even his own. The only thing Stiles
could think about was Derek and the things Derek was doing to his body. He
desperately sought out more but Derek's iron grip kept him firmly in place as
Derek proved once again just how talented his tongue was.
Derek made him feel even better than Stiles had imagined he would. Derek's
tongue was filthy and greedily lapped at Stiles's entrance. It made Stiles
shudder with want and ache with arousal but Stiles needed more. He wanted to be
stretched out and filled full. He wanted to feel Derek push his cock into him
and then fuck him hard and fast, until he couldn't remember his own name just
like Derek had promised he would.
"Fuck me," Stiles begged his voice raw, wrecked and pleading. "Please Derek.
C'mon, fuck me. You promised, you promised just please, please fuck me," Stiles
whined, clawing frantically at the sheets as he rode Derek's tongue.
Derek gave one more broad stripe of his tongue over Stiles's hole before
crawling his way back up, leaning over Stiles and caging him in with his body.
"All you had to do was ask," Derek whispered, biting down on Stiles throat and
sucking hard until the skin turned a livid, angry red. "How do you want it? I
can give it to you like this," Derek said, punctuating his words with a slow
grind of his hips, "Or I can put you on your hands and knees and take you," he
said, his voice low and gravelly, before biting down on Stiles's throat again
and sucking a matching bruise onto the other side.
Stiles had always imagined that when he had sex it would be face to face, slow,
gentle lovemaking but that wasn't what he wanted from Derek. There was
something in Derek's voice when he'd talked about taking Stiles on his hands
and knees that had Stiles craving a good, hard fucking like his lungs craved
air.
"Take me," Stiles whispered. "Do what you promised and just fucking take me,"
Stiles repeated forcefully.
"Needy and bossy," Derek teased before suddenly flipping Stiles over. The ease
at which Derek accomplished it had Stiles open mouthed in shock and eager with
anticipation. Derek had clearly been restraining himself and Stiles was anxious
to find out just how much strength lurked inside Derek's powerful frame.
Stiles trembled and squirmed, unable to hold still as Derek leaned over to open
a drawer in the nightstand. A second later Derek's weight returned, hot and
heavy over his back and Stiles heard the unmistakable click of lube being
opened and then shuddered as a cold, slick wetness slid between his cheeks
before Derek slowly pushed a finger inside him.
"Could have warmed it up first," Stiles complained but his voice sounded
thready and strained to his own ears and lacked its usual snark.
"Couldn't wait to get something of myself back inside you," Derek explained,
dropping an apologetic kiss to Stiles's ass and then playfully biting down on
one cheek. Stiles yelped indignantly to which Derek responded by taking a bite
out of the other.
"I'll take biting kink for a thousand Alex," Stiles groaned as Derek pressed
his finger in up to the second knuckle.
"You like it," Derek said confidently as he slid his finger the rest of the way
in. "You look so good like this," he rasped. "You're so tight and hot. Bet I
could make you come just like this. Get you off with my hands and then when
you're all loose and relaxed, just slide inside and give you more. But that's
not what you want, is it Stiles?" Derek said as he stroked in and back and
worked his finger deeper into Stiles. "And don't lie to me, because I'll know.
Tell me, do you want me to make you come right now?"
"Nuh uh," Stiles panted unable to deny the truth. He wanted to come but he
wanted to be wrapped around Derek's cock when it happened.
"Good boy," Derek praised, briefly removing his finger before adding more lube,
warming it up and slipping a second finger inside alongside the first. "I'm not
gonna touch your cock," Derek told him, glancing at where it hung heavy and
hard and leaking. "But you're going to come for me anyway. You're going to come
from just my cock, aren't you baby?"
Stiles made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and nodded. "Yeah, yeah
I'll come for you. I'll do anything for you," Stiles moaned.
"You have no idea how true that is," Derek whispered into Stile's ear as he
crooked his fingers. "You're mine, Stiles. You were mine before I ever even
touched you. You've been mine ever since you stepped into Howl.Didn't even know
it, did you baby? But your body knew, yielded to me the minute I touched you.
Now the rest of you knows it too," Derek said twisting his fingers inside
Stiles and stretching him out before drizzling on more lube and adding a third
finger.
Somewhere in the back of Stiles's sex addled brain warning bells sounded.
Stiles may have never had one before but he was pretty sure that the things
Derek had said weren't the type of dirty talk typical of a one night stand.
Part of Stiles wanted to shut this shit down right the fuck now before he ended
up chained to Derek's bed as some sort of sex slave.
The other part of Stiles was strangely okay with ending up chained to Derek's
bed as some sort of sex slave.
Derek licked up Stiles's spine and then slid one hand around his body and up to
his throat, not pressing down, just holding it there.
Like a promise.
Stiles rocked back onto Derek's fingers, trying to force them deeper, put them
where he wanted them. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he begged. "I'm ready. You can
fuck me now. I'm ready, Derek, c'mon." Stiles had been pulled apart piece by
piece, completely deconstructed by Derek's touch and Derek's voice and he
needed Derek to put him back together.
"You're not ready yet," Derek told him calmly before licking, sucking, and
biting a pattern of bruises over the back of Stiles's neck and into his
shoulders. "But you're almost there."
Stiles almost howled in frustration at Derek's refusal to hurry up and fuck him
already but before he could be even more demanding Derek's fingers pushed a
little harder and rubbed across his prostate.
"Oh shit," Stiles grunted as his cock twitched and leaked. He closed his eyes
and clenched around the fingers in his ass.
A sharp smack and a sudden blooming of pain shocked Stiles's attention off of
his imminent orgasm. "That's not my cock," Derek said, reminding Stiles of his
earlier instructions. "I should make you beg," Derek said roughly. "I should
wait until you're broken, pleading and begging like a bitch in heat, just to
remind you that I'm the one in charge here, that I'm the one who knows what you
need and when you need it. But I won't do that…this time," Derek said
withdrawing his fingers, slicking himself up and then wiping the excess lube on
the sheets.
"N-not your bitch, bitch," Stiles stuttered and got another hard smack on his
opposite cheek for his troubles. Under the flare of heat and the bright spot of
pain, Stiles felt his cock harden even further but when he turned to glare at
Derek over his shoulder the older man just smirked and squeezed his hips in
warning.
"Gonna fuck you now," Derek told Stiles a half second before Stiles felt the
blunt head of Derek's hard cock teasing his entrance. "I'm going put my cock in
you, make you call out my name and beg me for more. I'm going to wreck you,
Stiles. I'm going to write my name across your skin in bruises and bite marks
and show you things that you've only dreamt about," Derek promised him.
"Yeah, t-that's good," Stiles said, nodding his head. "C-can we do that now?"
"Yeah we can do that now," Derek soothed him, petting Stiles gently down his
sides. "I need you to breathe and relax," Derek instructed him. "I promise not
to let it hurt."
Stiles nodded frantically and felt Derek push into him slowly. An insistent
gentle pressure opened him up and stretched him out as Derek slid inside him an
inch at a time until he was fully seated. Once he had completely entered him
Derek held still.
Stiles was trapped in conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain. As much as
he had wanted-still wanted-Derek to take him hard and fast, it hurt. Part of
him wanted to tell Derek to stop, to take it out and run from the pain. There
was another part of Stiles however, and the part of him that had let Derek suck
him off back at Howl and enjoyed knowing that he was going to be bruised and
sore and marked when he woke up in the morning wanted nothing more than to push
back against the pleasure.
Before Stiles could make up his mind, the pain dulled and then seemed to ebb
away entirely, leaving behind only toe curling pleasure. "Move, move, Derek you
can move," Stiles moaned brokenly.
Stiles wanted Derek to start making good on the promises he'd made him and
Derek seemed to read his mind because he pulled out of Stiles nearly completely
before slamming back in with enough force to inch Stiles up on the mattress and
nearly make him topple over. Stiles cried out and his hands scrabbled for
purchase on sheets as Derek draped himself completely over his body and fucked
into Stiles with hard, deep strokes. "Fuck! Yes, yes, just like that don't
stop, don't stop," Stiles begged. Stiles worried that in the cold light of day
he might be embarrassed by the way he was literally begging for Derek's dick
but in the here and now he just couldn't be bothered to care, not when it meant
that Derek kept fucking him.
Derek groaned, his hips rolling forward viciously as he pounded into Stiles.
"You're so good for me," Derek grunted into Stiles's ear. "You're taking it so
good. You're so open and so fucking needy and wet. This is all for me, just for
me, isn't it Stiles?"
"Just you, only you," Stiles agreed, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip
as he tried to keep from coming. "Derek, please, please let me come. I need to
come," he whined.
Derek didn't answer but the next snap of his hips hit Stiles's prostate dead on
and had Stiles folding forward, shoulders hitting the mattress leaving his ass
up in the air. Stiles clawed at the sheets, bunching up a handful of the fabric
and shoving it into his mouth to muffle the sounds of his cries. Derek took
advantage of the new position and drove into Stiles relentlessly, holding him
in place, forcing him to take every thick inch of his length, nails digging
into the tender flesh of his hips just a hair's breadth from breaking skin.
Stiles felt a bit better about his embarrassing sex noises because Derek
sounded wild, feral and almost animal as he thrust inside him, keeping Stiles
on the edge but never letting him fall over.
Derek kept thrusting. Harder, deeper, giving Stiles what he wanted, what they
both needed. "Gonna keep you just like this," Derek grunted. "You were made for
this, made for me. I'm gonna keep you, Stiles. Gonna spend my days making you
happy, keeping you safe and my nights keeping you open and full and begging,"
Derek moaned.
Stiles went nearly cross-eyed from the pleasure of Derek inside him, Derek's
body on top of him, Derek's hands marking his skin, and Derek's voice in his
ear promising to make all his filthiest secret fantasies come true. Stiles
thought sex with Derek would be enough to drive anyone insane and Stiles was no
exception. Stiles was so far beyond insanity, by now he was ready to bite and
scream and beg until the sky came falling down as long as Derek kept fucking
him.
Derek stretched out on top of Stiles, nipping and licking at the back of
Stiles's neck, along his jawline and under his ear.
"Derek," Stiles keened. His entire world reduced to nothing more than Derek's
cock, rocking in and out of his body. Stiles was torn between humping the
mattress to get some friction on his dick or pushing himself back onto Derek's
cock. He managed small, aborted jerks forward and back, nearly crying for
relief. "Derek, please. Please, please, please, god damn you let me come
please."
Derek began thrusting harder and faster, forcing increasingly desperate and
obscene sounds from Stiles's lips. Stiles felt every drag of Derek inside him,
every slick slide of Derek's cock as he pushed inside of him. Stiles felt so
full and when Derek changed the angle of his thrusts so that he hit Stiles's
prostrate with every stroke Stiles surrendered completely and fucking wailed
from the need to come and the pleasure of it all.
"It's okay Stiles, you can come now. Let go, I'll take care of you," Derek
encouraged, recognizing that Stiles had reached his limits. He bit down harshly
on the back of Stiles's neck and ruthlessly dragged the mushroom head of his
cock over Stiles's prostate as he pushed Stiles over the edge.
Stiles flew apart. It felt like he fragmented into tiny pieces as he screamed
Derek's name and the edges of his vision turned white as he came, hot and hard,
at his lovers command. He quaked and cursed as his orgasm seemed to go on
forever, locking down tight around Derek's body as wave after wave of pleasure
rolled through him.
"So good, just like I knew you'd be. Fuck you're amazing. Take it so good, take
it all, that's it Stiles," Derek groaned. When he felt Stiles grow impossibly
tighter around him as he came Derek stopped holding back. He hauled Stiles up,
one hand on his hip and the other gently circling his throat and bit Stiles
again as he snapped his hips up and in, his rhythm becoming erratic as he
followed Stiles over the edge, and shook with the intensity of his climax as he
shot thick and deep inside of Stiles's still clenching hole.
Stiles felt as if he were floating. His mind had gone completely blank and he
felt sated and satisfied in a way that he hadn't known was possible. Derek
leaned over Stiles for a few beats before slowly pulling out and pressing a
chaste kiss into Stiles's temple. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles's waist
and guided them down onto the bed, situating them away from the worst of the
wet spot and dragging Stiles close to the sweaty, heavy mass of his body.
Stiles stayed uncharacteristically silent as he tried to wrap his head around
the events of the evening and pull himself together. He'd gone out with the
intention of finding adventure but instead he'd found Derek and now that he'd
had him Stiles didn't know how to go back to his life without him in it.
Derek had managed to open Stiles up to new experiences and a show him a side of
himself that he hadn't even known existed. Derek was intriguing and confident,
gorgeous and smart and had a wickedly dry sense of humor that Stiles enjoyed.
He had made Stiles feel safe, sexy and above all else wantedand Stiles really
didn't want to give Derek up but he knew he needed to be realistic. Despite the
things that Derek had said about keeping him and Stiles being his, Stiles knew
better than to put stock in what a man said when his dick was calling the
shots. He knew that the next night Derek would be back at Howl, looking for
another pretty distraction to take home and Stiles would be just a pleasant
memory.
The idea that Derek could so easily replace him hurt more than it should have.
Stiles had tried to shake off what had happened with Ian. He'd known their
relationship had been far from perfect and that most of his friends-and even
his father-had been relieved when it was over but being dumped, especially over
a text as if Stiles didn't even deserve any more consideration than that, had
shaken Stiles to his core. He'd never felt so disrespected and disregarded, as
if he didn't matter, didn't count and was completely worthless. He didn't admit
it to Lydia or even Scott but he'd cried, just once he'd allowed himself the
comfort of shedding a few hot, salty tears while he wondered what was so wrong
with him that Ian had found it so easy to leave him behind. What was so bad
about him that he wasn't worth waiting for? Ian had knocked a big, gaping hole
in his self-esteem and Stiles had struggled for the last three months to fill
it back in.
"I told you earlier whatever you're thinking you're wrong," Derek's voice
pulled him out of his thoughts. Stiles buried his face in the space between
Derek's neck and his shoulder and refused to make eye contact. "Do you want to
talk about it?" Derek asked.
Stiles shook his head. "I'm good man. I'm golden. That was…whoa. Just um…give
me a couple minutes and I'll be out of your hair. I'd appreciate it if you'd do
me a solid and let me borrow your shower? Maybe call me a cab while I'm in
there to take me back to Howl so I can get my jeep?" Stiles said, his voice
progressively growing smaller until it was barely audible.
Derek gently tugged Stiles's face out of its hiding place. "Do you want to
leave, Stiles?"
Stiles resolutely avoided eye contact. "Hey man, I know how these things go
okay? Guy meets guy under dubious circumstances in slightly more dubious club,
guy takes guy home, orgasms are had and then queue the walk of shame as
everybody goes their separate ways."
"As much as I enjoyed Story Time with Stiles that's not what I asked you,"
Derek said patiently. "So we're going to try this again: Do you want to leave,
Stiles?"
"Do you want me to stay," Stiles asked sidestepping the question.
"Stiles," Derek repeated firmly. "Do you want to leave?"
Stiles shook his head. "Leaving is kind of on my top ten list of things to
never do. Its number one actually, which is kind of a big deal because I have
tell dad the truth about how Scott and I actually broke the coffee table,
accuse Lydia of coloring her hair and take back my douchebag ex on that list so
it's pretty hardcore."
"Sounds like an interesting list. And Stiles, if you don't want to leave then
don't leave." Derek said.
"It can't be that simple," Stiles argued.
"It really is," Derek argued back. "You don't want to leave and I don't want
you to. Its only complicated if you make it that way."
"This is such bad one night stand etiquette," Stiles complained. "I had a plan.
I'd use my fake I.D. to sneak into Howl, meet some hot person willing to let me
have sex with them and then hightail it out of whatever no-tell motel or
sketchy apartment complex I ended up at before my dad got home in the morning."
"I really don't know what to say about that plan."
"Don't diss the plan," Stiles warned Derek. "It was an excellent plan and I
totally rocked it."
"Except for part where you didn't sneak in so much as have pity taken on you
for due to your horrible your fake I.D. and appalling lack of stealth, my loft
isn't in the red light district, and this isn't a one night stand," Derek
listed for him.
"I notice you didn't have anything to say about my finding a hot person to hook
up with," Stiles smiled.
"Well, you did get something right," Derek admitted smugly.
"No need to be humble or anything," Stiles snorted.
"Brat," Derek gently admonished with a playful swat to Stiles's backside.
Stiles retaliated by biting down Derek's shoulder. He frowned slightly when the
resulting red mark faded almost as soon as it appeared but shrugged it off and
glared at Derek. "If we're gonna do this thing we gotta negotiate some of these
kinks of yours."
Derek pinned Stiles with a heated look and arched an eyebrow. "Kinks of mine?"
he questioned pointedly.
Stiles flushed. "Fine, kinks of ours," he conceded. "Ass." Stiles added after a
moment. He shifted restlessly. "I totally need to shower."
"I'll clean you up later. Just lie here with me right now. Love the way you
smell," Derek said, as he trailed his fingers through Stiles's sweat soaked
hair. "And I love the way you taste," he added, bringing Stiles's fingers up to
his mouth and nipping gently.
"Freaking weirdo," Stiles said playfully. "You're like kinka-pa-looza, man."
"But you like it," Derek said knowingly.
"Yeah, but I'm not exactly the poster boy for normality so that's not saying
much," Stiles mumbled.
"You're perfect," Derek insisted. "And I plan to spend an awful lot of time
showing you just how perfect I think you are," Derek murmured as Stiles
snuggled sleepily into his chest.
As he surrendered to exhaustion the last coherent thought that Stiles had was
yes.
Six Months Later
The absolute last person that Stiles expected to run into at Howl was Ian.
Objectively he knew that he'd see his ex eventually after Ian had flunked out
of UCLA and come home to Beacon Hills in order to lick his wounds, but Stiles
had hoped to put off their reunion for as long as possible. He'd been dodging
Ian's calls and ignoring his messages for the last month, going so far as to
park his baby in the garage lest Ian see her in the driveway and decide to pop
by for a visit. Stiles had no idea why the universe decided it hated him
tonight but he did know that he needed to get away from the bar and back to
Derek's office before Ian noticed him.
Stiles has just backed up, not at all conspicuously despite what the look Boyd
threw him implied, and was a short distance away from sweet, sweet freedom when
a deep, familiar voice called out over the music "Stiles? Hey, Sty! Sty?!"
And yep, that was a hand around his wrist dragging him back to the bar. A hand
that was not Derek's. Ian's hand, Ian's hand that, judging by the disapproving
look on Boyd's face and the apocalyptic one on Laura's just might end up
severed if Stiles didn't get it off his person. Stiles tensed and his mind
committed some sort of time skip that took him back to the years of impatient
mocking and casual indifference that had been the hallmarks of his relationship
with Ian. Stiles's shook off the haze of mostly unpleasant memories and tried
to pull free but Ian had an iron grip on him and wouldn't let go.
Ian dragged his eyes over the length of Stiles's body and Stiles grimaced a
little when Ian licked his lips. Derek had dressed Stiles that night and Stiles
knew he looked good in his tight black leather pants and red fishnet t-shirt
but Ian's hungry gaze was as unwelcome and unwanted as the nickname he'd always
insisted on calling Stiles by despite the fact that Stiles had let him know-
several times- that Stiles was a nickname and he hated being called 'Sty'.
"I've been trying to get in touch with you ever since I got home, Sty. Imagine
my surprise meeting up with you here. You look…different," Ian leered.
"Blame my boyfriend," Stiles said making sure he stressed the word. "He's been
keeping me pretty busy and he's the one responsible for all this," Stiles
gestured to his outfit while trying to pull his arm free.
Stiles chanced a look over Ian's shoulder and his eyes widened in panic as he
noticed Laura had seemingly lost her patience with the situation and was headed
towards them. By the time he tore his eyes away from the frightening sight of
an angry Laura, Boyd had stepped out from behind the bar and materialized by
his side. Boyd cleared his throat and stared pointedly at the spot where Ian
still held firm to Stiles's wrist.
"You're gonna want to let him go," Boyd stated calmly.
Ian looked Boyd up and down and then sneered at him. "You the boyfriend?"
"Nope," Boyd said. "And you have no idea how lucky you are that I'm not."
"Is that right," Ian challenged, tightening his grip on Stiles.
"Let go Ian," Stiles snapped, trying to pull free once more. He grabbed the
pinky finger on Ian's free hand and squeezed. "I seriously don't want to
dislocate your finger but I will. Let. Go. We're over. We've been over. I
unfriended you on Facebook and everything."
"What Stiles and Boyd are trying to tell you," Laura cut in, her voice sharp
like a razor and sticky sweet like honey, "Is that Stiles doesn't have anything
to say to you, he doesn't want anything to do with you and unless you're as
stupid as you look, you're gonna take your hands off him and walk out of here
before you have a lifetime of eating your meals through a straw to look forward
to."
"Oh c'mon guys," Stiles complained. "This entire situation is taking on a whole
damsel in distress vibe and I think it needs to be noted for future reference
that I'm no damsel. I got this. I can totally handle this."
"Of course you can," Derek said, as he appeared from out of fucking nowhere.
"But you shouldn't have to." Ian gave Stiles a venomous look, as if Stiles were
to blame for the clusterfuck going on around them and Stiles didn't even the
chance to respond to that before Derek took a half step forward and Ian dropped
Stiles's wrist like he'd been burned.
Stiles let go of Ian and unconsciously rubbed on the sore skin of his freed
wrist which turned out to be the exact wrong thing to do. At the sight of
Stiles's reddened skin Boyd clenched his fists and Laura gave Ian a look that
left no doubt that she was in the process of planning his murderbut Derek?
Derek looked as if he planned to pull Ian's still beating heart out of his
chest.
Derek put his arm around Stiles and drew him to his side and placed one very
chaste, deliberate kiss to the side of Stiles's head. Ian's face hardened but
before he could say anything to dig himself in any deeper Derek gave Ian a
smile that looked a whole lot more like baring his teeth than it did an attempt
at being friendly and began talking.
"Here's what's going happen Ian," Derek said, ice cold smile on his lips and
fire in his eyes. "You're going to apologize to Stiles. You're going to
apologize to him for being a shit boyfriend and for putting your hands on him
without his permission. Then you're going to apologize to me for putting your
hands on him, because I don't like it when other people put their hands on
Stiles. After that you're going to leave, you're never going to come back and
while you're gone, you're not going to call Stiles. You're not going to speak
to him. You're not going to speak about him. If you see him on the street,
you're going to cross over to the other side and keep walking. You aren't going
to bother his dad and you aren't going to bother his friends. What you are
going to do is forget that he even exists because if you don't disappear
voluntarily, I'm just going to have to make you. And I can do that. In fact, I
know several people who would love to help me do that," Derek said, pausing
while Erica and Isaac took up positions next to Boyd and Laura gripped Ian's
shoulder in a hold so painful that he collapsed down onto one knee.
Derek released Stiles, stepped forward, slipped two fingers under Ian's chin
and tipped his head up so they made eye contact before he continued. "Ian, if I
make you disappear," Derek said his voice cold and hard, "I promise you, you
won't be found. Are we clear?"
Ian paled and then scrambled to his feet and began spitting out assurances and
apologies before tripping over himself running for the exit.
"I'd like to take this moment to address a couple of things," Stiles said into
the ensuing silence. "First, Laura you have got to teach me how to do that."
"It's a gift," Laura shrugged.
"Uh huh. Whatever. But seriously guys, I may not be built like a brick wall or
have super secret ninja powers but I am not the damsel," Stiles insisted.
"You keep telling yourself that Little Red," Derek murmured as he went to kiss
Stiles.
"Also, have no idea why you guys insist on calling me that ridiculous
nickname," Stiles continued. "You do realize if I'm Little Red that makes you
the Big Bad Wolf?" Stiles told Derek.
Derek gave him a wolfish smile as he nodded. "I'm aware," Derek whispered
before capturing Stiles's lips in a heated kiss.
End Notes
     Okay some clarifications (and a bit o' backstory)
      
     Werewolves are still a thing and the Hales are still werewolves.
     While living in LA Derek was attacked by an Alpha. He managed to kill
     him and became an Alpha himself. Boyd, Isaac and Erica are his pack.
     They are a couple of years of older than Stiles in this AU and are
     from LA and that's why they don't know each other. Boyd threw the
     phone numbers away because he and Erica are a couple.
     Werewolves can scent pack and mate potential. Isaac let Stiles into
     Howl because his instincts told him (and Boyd and Erica agreed) that
     Stiles had pack potential and that Derek might want to turn him.
     Derek decides that he doesn't want to turn Stiles but he does want to
     keep him and possibly at some point make him his mate.
     Stiles is in the dark. He doesn't know anything about
     werewolves...yet :)
     So I think that ties up all the loose ends. If you're still stuck on
     something or there's something not quite adding up let me know and
     I'll be more happy to clarify it for you :)
     And as always feel free to come by my Tumblr and say hi
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