
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8472406.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Allison_Argent/Scott_McCall
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Fluff, Alternate_Universe_-_Werewolves_Are
      Known, Alpha_Derek, Omega_Stiles_Stilinski, Alive_Hale_Family
  Series:
      Part 1 of My_Only_One
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-05 Words: 15851
****** We Grew A Little And Knew A Lot ******
by noxlunate
Summary
     “So, you do like me though?”
     “No, I hate you and I’ve spent a ton of time and money trying to make
     you happy for no reason at all.” Derek deadpans and Stiles can’t help
     it, he smiles blindingly at Derek and leans in, smashing their mouths
     together.
     --
     Or an A/B/O fic that's totally mostly floof
Notes
     Mild warning for dubious consent purely because there is sex during a
     heat in this fic and I know certain people do consider that as
     dubious consent. It's discussed before hand though and everyone
     consents fully as much as they're able.
     Also, this might be rough in some spots. It's been sitting on my
     computer only a couple hundred words from being finished for over a
     year and I hadn't touched it until this_post went around tumblr and
     inspired me to actually finish a fic and post it.
See the end of the work for more notes
There’s no shame in being an omega. Not a lot of people are, roughly 10% of the
population in fact. Hell, omega’s aren’t a point of shame, so much as a point
of pride for most families, considering the fact that they are so rare. Still,
Stiles hadn’t exactly been expecting to present as one okay?
It’s not like he was expecting to present as alpha either though. He expected,
and has expected his entire life, to present solidly as a beta. He’s not
special after all. He’s 148 pounds of solid social awkwardness, hyperactivity
and lanky bones. He’s not the alluring, focus drawing, sexual master that
omegas are portrayed as in the movies. That’s just… not him, okay? Except for
how it apparently is, and how once it happens, it makes fucking sense, and how
Scott, Scotty McCall, his very best bud who surprised the entire school by
presenting as an alpha at the end of the last semester, is wrinkling his nose,
saying “Man, you smell weird.”
“I’m leaking.” He says, his tone just this side of frantic. Scott doesn’t make
it any better by just staring at him like he’s confused. “I’m presenting you
asshole!!! You took sex ed didn’t you?” It’s a highly rhetorical question,
considering he and Scott had taken the class together last year. “I’ve got all
the signs! The cramping I’ve had the past few weeks, check, the moodswings,
check,” He ignores Scott’s mumbled “double check”because he doesn’t need his
best friend pulling any ‘oh those omegas with their hormones’ stereotypical
bullshit. “And now, the fucking self lubrication. I have swamp ass Scott.” He
says, and he’s flailing so hard now that Scott’s looking a little fearful every
time Stiles’ arms swing towards his head.
“At least… At least it’s happening during the summer?” Scott asks, cautiously
optimistic and Stiles deflates with it, crossing his arms over his chest and
doing his best to not look entirely petulant. He’s pretty sure he’s succeeding,
except for how he’s totally not. Scott seems to understand though, because
Scott is his best friend, Scott is the greatest thing the world ever created,
and when he opens his mouth and says “Wanna go get some curly fries and a
milkshake?” well, he totally proves it.
Less than an hour later Stiles is squished into the corner of his favorite
booth at his favorite greasy old diner, shoveling fries into his mouth while
simultaneously trying to inhale his milkshake. Scott had earned his best friend
medal today, by going into the omega hygiene section with him before they’d
gone to the diner so Stiles is rewarding him by tossing his precious, beloved
curly fries into Scott’s mouth across the table.
“And the crowd goes wild as Scott Mccall catches yet another perfectly aimed
curly fry using only his mouth.” Stiles says in his best announcer voice before
making a weird noise that’s supposed to equate to a cheering crowd. Other
people are starting to notice the fact that his pheromones are starting to kick
in, and he needs to keep talking to distract himself from the way people keep
looking at him. “People are staring, aren’t they?” He asks, because yeah,
Stiles can’t ignore them apparently.
“It’s always a big deal when a new omega presents, you know that.” Scott
mumbles, scrubbing a hand over his hair. “And you do smell kinda good dude. I
mean, I’ve got no, like, urge to mate you or whatever but I mean, it smells
nice.”
“I don’t think words can express how happy I am that you don’t wanna take a
ride on the Stiles train man. One, because ew, and two, because your girlfriend
is kinda terrifying and I don’t want her to like, rip my balls off or
something.”
“Nah, Allison and I already discussed the omega tempting alpha thing, and she
said it was a bunch of bs so if I ever tried anything with one she’ll murder me
because she doesn’t believe in victim blaming. She’s rational like that.” Scott
says, looking like even Allison’s death threats are a reason to love her. He’s
kind of ridiculous.
Stiles totally appreciates Allison’s mentality though. She hasn’t presented
yet, though everyone’s pretty sure she’s going to turn out beta. She’s too
sensible, and doesn’t buy the stereotypes of alphas being controlled by their
desire to knot every omega who’s pheromones tempt them, or the stereotype of
omegas being weak, hormonally driven creatures that need to be taken care of.
“Have I mentioned that I love your girlfriend? You didn’t totally fail at
picking a mate.” Stiles says with a grin, bumping his foot into Scott’s ankle
under the table. Not that Allison is officially Scott’s mate, but everyone’s
pretty convinced they’ll make it official once they’ve graduated. Stiles has
already demanded best man-ship at their ceremony, to be honest.
Scott, for his part, just sighs sort of dreamily and says “Yeah.” like he can’t
believe he managed to land his girlfriend.
_____________________________
The Hale barbecue is kind of the event of the summer. Half the town seems to be
invited to it, including Stiles, though Stiles is pretty sure it’s only because
Talia Hale is fond of his Dad and Stiles is a friend of Scott’s. The Hales have
treated Scott like an unofficial member of their pack since he got bitten, and
Stiles being Scott’s pack means he gets invited to eat copious amounts of meat
and join all the other teenagers there in trying to sneak beers out of the
coolers.
It’s usually one of the best parts of summer. He gets to hang out with Scott
and eat a ton of steak and watch his Dad joke around with other adults while
most people ignore Stiles because he’s not a wolf and he hasn’t presented yet.
He looks forward to it, though he also kind of forgets that he’s been blasting
off newly presented omega pheromones for the past three weeks and well, no one
ignores that. Everyone’s acting like they are, like there’s nothing different
about Stiles than there has been for the past few years that he’s been coming
to the barbecue with his dad. Still, it’s pretty easy to see the glances people
are shooting his way, and the way the alphas there are not-so-subtly sniffing
the air every time they move past Stiles. It’d be hysterical if it were
happening to someone else, but it’s not, it’s happening to Stiles.
It sucks.
He’s nearly at his breaking point when Laura- Gorgeous, smart, Alpha Laura-
freaking Hale, sits down next to him. “So Little Stillinski is all grown up, I
see.” She says, smiling big and bright and Stiles feels a little like she’s a
shark who’s about to eat him.
“Uh no? I mean, yeah? I mean, I guess?” Stiles says, not sure how he’s supposed
to answer that. Laura’s kind of intimidating. She’s nice and all, and he’s
pretty sure he’s never met a person who doesn’t like the eldest of the Hale
siblings, but she’s also terrifying.
“You’re precious.” She says and she’s still smiling with too many teeth and
Stiles can’t help but fidget under her gaze.
“Uh, thanks? I think?” He’s sort of desperately glad that Laura’s already mated
or else he’d be worrying about her eating him or something and he might end up
saying something about it and embarrassing himself. Not that it’d be the first
time, but still, it’d be kind of cool if he could somehow harness the ‘omega,
too cool for everyone but my alpha’ vibe that some people have. He’s pretty
sure Lydia managed to harness that ability when they were 7, a full 7 years
before she even presented. He won’t, is pretty sure that’s an impossibility,
but hey, a guy can wish right?
“Are there any prospective alphas that have caught your eye?” She asks, looking
every inch curious and Stiles just sort of blinks at her, before his brain
catches up and yeah, okay, people get weirdly curious about omegas. They’re
always the hot topic of any town when they first present. It’ll fade
eventually, but for now Stiles has to suffer through people wanting to know who
he’d like to fuck. It’s a little uncomfortable. Just a wee bit.
Then again, this could totally just be a Laura thing. Stiles is by way of Scott
and his Dad some sort of pack adjacent, and over the past few years he’s known
the girl she’s been ridiculously nosey. She just seems to like knowing things,
and making people uncomfortable to know those things.
“Uh, I just presented like a couple weeks ago? So no, nah, definitely not.”
“Heather had only been presented for a week and a half when I started courting
her.” Laura says with a shrug, flapping a hand dismissively.
“She was also already almost 18.” Stiles says with a shrug, because everyone
remembers Laura and Heather’s epic whirlwind romance. They’d courted for barely
six months before Laura had claimed Heather. Stiles is only sixteen though, and
doesn’t really want all the pressure that comes with being a mated omega yet.
That shit’s ridiculous, and he’s still in high school. He’s pretty sure he’s
not supposed to be planning a claiming ceremony at the same time he’s trying to
pass high school.
“I suppose you’re right. Just don’t discount anyone because you’re young.”
Laura says, suddenly slipping into the advice giving older friend role instead
of the terrifying as fuck role she’d had before. Though both roles terrify
Stiles, so really, he’s not sure which is better.
Suddenly, Derek in all his frowny caterpillar bebrowed glory is standing next
to her, shaking his head at his sister. “Stop scaring the poor omega, Laura.”
And Stiles isn’t offended okay? Except for how he totally is and he frowns and
shakes his head.
“I’m not scared.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest and he’s like 99%
sure he looks like a petulant little kid but he doesn’t care, because acting
like omegas need to be protected by big strong alphas is douchebaggery in it’s
highest form and no amount of Derek’s hotness makes up for that. “Also I’m not
some poor little omega who needs someone’s protection.” And he knows he’s being
irrational, really, he does, but well, he can blame it on the mood swings.
Derek for his part just looks confused as hell, and he’s just standing there
staring at Stiles like Stiles is the most confusing person in the world with
his eyebrows flat across his face and his mouth open like he’s about to say
something. He snaps it shut after a moment, opens it again and then repeats the
entire process all over again before shaking his head and walking away. Stiles
is left mildly baffled as Laura shakes her head, mutters something about Derek
being a moron and walks away, leaving Stiles all to his lonesome.
Great. Embarrassing himself in front of the Hales had not been on his agenda
today.
———————————————————————————
Stiles wakes up halfway through the summer to obnoxious knocking on his front
door. He grumbles about being woken up at ridiculous times (2 pm during the
summer is ridiculous, okay?) and throws himself out of bed, tumbling down the
stairs and to the door.
“This better be good because you’re interrupting Stiles time.” He says as he’s
swinging the door open, finding a disgruntled looking delivery man holding a
truly huge Edible Arrangement on the other side.
“Delivery for Stiles Stilinski.” The man says, shoving the arrangement and a
little machine at Stiles for him to sign. Stiles is in just enough shock that
he does so without any comment and stares as the delivery man leaves, looking
like he truly has the worst job in the world.
Stiles is still in surprise as he carries the thing inside, and seriously, it’s
fucking huge. Stiles is convinced it’s practically the size of him, with enough
fruit and chocolate that it makes Stiles’ mouth water, and he doesn’t even
bother reading the card before he’s shoving a piece of pineapple in his mouth
and groaning. He’s pretty sure this is better than sex.
Not that he knows from experience, but still.
He’s devoured at least a dozen pieces of fruit from the bouquet before he
finally unfolds the note attached, curious as to who would spend so much money
to keep Stiles in fruit filled omega craving bliss.
‘My dad (and a bunch of books) say that cravings for stuff like this can be
pretty intense in the months leading up to first heat.
Sorry for accidentally implying you were weak.
Derek Hale’
Stiles blinks, mouth open a little as he stares in confusion from the note to
the arrangement and back again. He eats three pieces of honeydew, a plain
strawberry, a chocolate covered strawberry and a piece of pineapple before he
repeats the motion of looking back and forth again.
Stiles has been called stupid before, but he’s got the I.Q. tests to prove that
wrong. He knows what this is.
‘Is your brother courting me?’He sends Cora, after he’s demolished at least
another dozen pieces of fruit and probably moaned obscenely enough that his
neighbors think he’s getting laid. It’s going to be seriously awkward to eat
this stuff around his Dad, but he figures his Dad’s an alpha, his Mom was an
omega, and Stiles is only half as weird as she was, so he oughta be used to it.
‘What????Why?????’Cora texts back, followed by another text that’s just a
string of question marks. He’d be offended if he hadn’t known Cora since they
were both tiny and their Mom’s coordinated playdates for the two of them. Cora
had pushed him in the sand a lot and stolen his toys, but she’d also punched a
kid in the face for him, so really, he’s pretty sure they’ve always been
friends. Plus he knows she’s kind of terribly disturbed by the idea of any of
her siblings courting someone. She still makes gagging sounds over Heather and
Laura.
‘He sent me one of those fruit arrangement thingies. It’s like, bigger than you
are. Also he defended me against your sister awhile back.’He texts back, trying
to decide if he can eat any more fruit without exploding. He decides he can’t,
and mournfully puts it in the fridge before texting again.‘He also apologized.’
’Yeah, but why’s he courting YOU?’Cora texts back and Stiles frowns until Cora
follows up with a ‘:p’
‘You’re a dick. I shoulda texted Scott about this. He’s way more supportive.’
‘Scott hates Derek. He’d throw away your fruit for the principle of it.’
‘He wouldn’t.’ Stiles replies, even though he thinks Scott might. Scott seems
to love the rest of the Hales, and the Hales love him, but he and Derek haven’t
gotten along since they were little kids. ‘I need this fruit. This fruit brings
me life.’
Cora’s next reply doesn’t come for five minutes. ’I just told Derek you said
that and he looks constipated as fuck. Omg he is courting you.’
‘I TOLD YOU!!!!!’He pauses, follows up with ‘WAIT, HE IS?’Because he’d thought
it okay? And he likes to think he’s smart, but he didn’t really believe it.
Derek Hale is well, Derek Hale. He could court any omega he wanted.
’Dude, you’re the one who said he was courting you. I just confirmed. His
EYEBROWS have confirmed it Stillinksi.’
‘You suck. Goodbye. Sayonara. Hasta Lavista. I’m going to drown myself in
chocolate and not think about this omega bullshit. No alphas allowed now.’
‘Hey, I’m not an alpha.’
‘Oh, you will be. You. Will. Be.’
‘Idiot.’
‘GOODBYE.’
Cora doesn’t reply again, so Stiles takes that as her agreement and goes to
sleep for another hour and ignore what the book his Dad gave him calls his
‘body’s natural changes.’
—————————————————————————
Stiles is about 99% sure that the first year after a new omega presents is
designed to be pure torture. There’s no other reason for him to be enduring
this level of hell. It’s not like the cramps, the mood swings, and the cravings
(all apparently signs of his body’s “changes” and all apparently going to last
until he goes through his first heat) weren’t enough, he has to deal with this
shit. This shit being the Annual Beacon Hills Omega Ball where all the omegas
who’ve presented in the past year are rounded up and paraded around. It’s
apparently been a thing for over a century, or so Stiles is told when he
protests that this is a seriously awful and antiquated tradition and he wants
no part of it.
It’s awful. He tries to worm his way out of it, but apparently being the son of
the Sheriff means he kind of has to.
He decides, midway through a dance practice for the damn thing that it’d be
almost acceptable if all he had to do was show up instead of learning some
ridiculous dance, attending awful etiquette lessons, and getting fitted for a
fucking suit. It’s white. Of course it’s white, because this awful tradition
was started before anyone Stiles has ever met was born, and all omegas were
supposed to be presented as virginal until they were mated.
His feet have been stepped on at least four times when he finally snaps and
pushes his assigned escort away, an alpha about an inch shorter who’s a total
dickbag and who keeps “accidentally” grabbing Stiles’ ass while they dance.
“Nope. No. Nada. Nope.” He says, flailing a hand and glaring daggers at the guy
(Tim? Tom? Theo? He didn’t pay attention to his name, the dude seemed like such
an asshole. Travis seems like a skeevy enough name though, so he settles for
referring to him as that in his mind.) “I’m getting my own escort.”
Mrs. Martin, the person in charge of this whole shindig looks a little shocked
by is outburst, but nods nonetheless and gives a sharp look to Travis. He
thinks maybe she’s caught on to the dick’s wandering hands. “You’re excused. Mr
Stillinski can continue on with an escort of his own choosing.” She says,
before looking towards Stiles. “Have one picked by next practice.”
And just like that, Stiles is faced with the brand new task of finding himself
an escort for a bullshit coming out ceremony. Fuck. Well, at least he gets to
miss the rest of practice.
———————————————————————
The fact that his text of ‘I need In-N-Out like burning’ to Derek is followed
less than a half hour by the alpha showing up in his doorstep with a bag of
delicious smelling food goes a long way to proving that Derek is actually
trying to court Stiles in his own weird, nonverbal, non communicative way. Of
course, the half dozen things he’s received from the older boy since the fruit
arrangement have done that too, but at the moment a pile of greasy food is much
more important in proving it.
He leads Derek into the kitchen without much more than a “Hi, thank you.” as
he’s stuffing french fries into his mouth straight out the bag. Derek looks a
little fond, but also like he’s pained by the fact that he feels fond. It’s a
feeling that Stiles is pretty familiar with picking out in people. His Dad has
sported the same one since Stiles was tiny.
“Cora made Scott tell her what you eat from there.” Derek says, very very
slowly inching closer to Stiles. He’s pretty sure he can see the guy’s nostrils
flaring a little.
“Alright, c’mon big guy, get in here for a whiff of eau de Stiles. I know you
alphas can’t resist my sweet sweet omega smellyness.”
Derek looks even more pained than before, but he does let himself step in close
to Stiles, press his nose to Stiles’ shoulder and inhale. Finally, when Stiles
thinks he’s stood still long enough for Derek to do whatever weird sniffy thing
he needs to do he grabs Derek’s wrist and drags him to the living room.
“C’mon, if you’re going to be wooing me, you’ve got to y’know, actually spend
time with me that doesn’t involve the buffer of your sister or other various
members of your ginourmous family. ”
“Technically, once I’ve declared my intention to court you we’re supposed to
have a chaperone.” Derek says, and he sounds serious, but there’s a twitch to
his mouth that Stiles knows means he’s not actually serious.
“Yep, and that’s as antiquated as the omega ball thingy. No one does the
chaperone thing anymore. My mom and dad didn’t even do it. That’s how outdated
it is.”
“Omega ball thingy?” Derek asks, scrunching his nose up a little at Stiles’
wording.
“Yeah, otherwise known as Beacon Hills Annual Omega Ball. It’s like one of
those weird deb balls but worse.”
“It’s tradition.”
“Oh well, if that’s the case. Everything that’s tradition should be continued.
Nothing bad has ever been tradition.”
“It’s how my parents met. My Mom was my Dad’s assigned escort.” Derek shrugs,
seemingly unbothered by Stiles’ hatred over the very way his parents met. Which
okay, is maybe not so bad when thought of like that. If Derek’s parents hadn’t
met, there would be no Derek, and Derek is currently in Stiles’ Top Five
Favorite People because of his recent penchant for providing Stiles with food
at a moments notice.
“Okay, maybe it’s not truly awful. Still, it means taking a serious hit in my
summer sleep time to go to the practice things and my assigned escort wouldn’t
stop grabbing my ass.” He pats Derek’s knee when he growls. “Which, speaking of
escorts, I need a new one. I’ve nominated you for the task, and guess what,
you’ve also been voted into it by a voting party of me. Congratulations Derek
Hale, you’re my new escort.”
Stiles isn’t sure what he expects, maybe some sort of fight or having to
convince Derek to do it. He doesn’t expect the alpha to nod like it sounds
perfectly reasonable and say “Okay, send me the practice schedule.”
Well, that was easier than he expected. It’s somehow equally as easy to corral
Derek into the corner of the couch with his arm around Stiles’ shoulder to
watch movies until his Dad gets home and Derek flees.
Sometimes this omega thing isn’t too awful.
—————————————————————————

Cora: Holy shit, how’d you manage to get Derek to agree to be your escort?
Stiles: I just told him he had to be my escort. Pretty simple actually.
Cora: Dude, no, not that simple. Mom’s been trying to convince him to volunteer
as an escort since he presented.
Cora: He just told Mom he needs to be fitted for a suit!!!
Cora: I think Mom’s gonna cry. Dude, you’re apparently a God. Mom’s trying to
figure out what the hell would make him change his mind.
Cora: I told her it was a scrawny omega who’s got his knot all in a twist.
Cora: Neither of them look pleased with that answer.
Stiles: Rude. So rude Cora. You’re fired.
Cora: You can’t fire me.
Cora: Derek would frown even more if the dude he’s pining over hated his
family.
Cora: You wouldn’t wish that on the world.
Stiles: He wouldn’t mind if I hated you.
Stiles: Everyone knows Laura is his favorite.
Cora: Lies and slander.
——————————————————

Scott: Dude, why is Allison saying that Derek’s your new escort?
Stiles: Because he is.
Stiles: Surprise?

——————————————————————
 
Needless to say, Scott doesn’t take it very well. He goes all growly and alpha-
y and Stiles rolls his eyes at him eight million times and tells him to calm
down about a billion before he finally listens to reason.
“I still don’t like it.” Scott says, once Stiles has managed to talk him down.
“You really don’t have to. I like him.” Stiles says, shrugging, because he
loves Scott okay? Scott is his best friend in the entire world, and he loves
him to death, but at the same time, he likes Derek, and he’s not going to let
Scott and Derek’s weird issues ruin whatever is happening there.
Scott seems to deflate and nods. “Okay. I guess I have to trust your instincts
that Derek’s who’s right for you. I mean, you had to trust me with Allison.”
The ‘Even though she’s an Argent’ is left unsaid, though Stiles had totally
brought that up when the two started dating. Even though he now loves Allison
to death.
“Hey, you’ve got the werewolf smell your mate powers. Who can argue with that?”
Stiles bumps his shoulder to Scott’s, before tugging him into a totally manly
brotastic hug that involves a lot of squeezing and nuzzling his face into
Scott’s shoulder. It’s awesome. “Thanks though, for agreeing to trust me on
this. And y’know, it couldn’t hurt if you tried to be a little friendly with
him. We’re not little anymore. He stole your truck like 12 years ago dude, it
might be time to let it go.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on it.” Scott says, and Stiles knows that means he
really will try. Scott would do damn near anything for the people he loves, and
Stiles is pretty lucky to count himself among those people.
——————————————————
Beacon Hills Annual Omega Ball turns out to be surprisingly less bad than
Stiles thought it would be. There’s seven other omegas this year, and Stiles is
one of two guys, but it’s not 110% awful. Even if he hates his suit. Besides,
he gets to see his Dad look horribly awkward in his own suit before he leads
Stiles around when they call his name and then deposits him in front of Derek.
Derek, who looks like a fucking modelin his perfectly fitting suit and his eyes
that keep looking at Stiles like he wants to eat him.
Stiles is sort of uncomfortably turned on by the sight, to be honest.
“My very own dreamboat.” Stiles mumbles as Derek leads him away and towards the
receiving line, his arm warm and making Stiles feel a little floaty where it’s
tucked against Derek’s.
“You’re ridiculous.” Derek mumbles back, but his lips are totally betraying him
where they twitch just slightly on the side.
“Yep, and you totally like me for it.” Stiles is pretty confident about that
fact. Derek wouldn’t have gone through this hell, and the hell of the practices
they’ve had to endure beforehand, if he didn’t like Stiles. It had to have
taken some feelings to let Stiles stomp on his toes repeatedly.
Derek looks like he wants to say something back, but snaps his mouth shut as
they reach the line of people that for some reason want to say hello to all
eight omegas that have presented that year. Stiles does his best to grin and
bear it, shaking hands with people and accepting the occasional hug and
answering questions about his plans for his future (He’s not sure if he’ll mate
anytime soon. He’ll be finishing high school and figuring out college before
then. No, thank you, he doesn’t want to be set up with your alpha son or
daughter.)
It feels like hours later when he’s finished and he drags Derek into the
nearest secluded spot he can find, jaw aching from smiling and palm a little
sweaty from shaking so many hands.
“This omega thing is hard.” He mumbles, pressing his face into Derek’s chest
and twisting his hands into the sides of his suit jacket, inhaling the solid,
safe, scent of alpha and doing his best to let it wash over him, to let it calm
his frayed nerves, to let it soothe the very beginnings of a panic attack he
can feel creeping in if he’s not careful.
“You did good.” Derek’s voice is a little soft, like he’s doing his best to
sound soothing for Stiles as his hands rub up and over his back.
“So, you do like me though?” Stiles asks, returning to a previous conversation
even though it’s not like Derek hasn’t been pretty obvious.
“No, I hate you and I’ve spent a ton of time and money trying to make you happy
for no reason at all.” Derek deadpans and Stiles can’t help it, he smiles
blindingly at Derek and leans in, smashing their mouths together.
It’s quick, and Stiles accidentally bumps their noses together more than their
mouths connect but then Derek is pulling back a little, sliding a hand under
Stiles’ jaw and tilting his head just so before he leans in to kiss him again
and yeah, this time it’s pretty much perfect.
A half hour later he rejoins everyone else, hand in hand with Derek, feeling a
little like he probably has stubble burn and swollen lips but very very
satisfied with his night.
—————————————————————

Cora: What did you do?
Cora: Derek is smiling.
Cora: HE’S HUMMING.
Cora: SEND HELP, HE JUST WENT TO THE KITCHEN TO MAKE HIMSELF FOOD AND HE
OFFERED ME SOME.
Cora: DID YOU TWO HAVE SEX?
Cora: Wait, don’t answer that.
Stiles: Oh my god Cora, NO, WE DID NOT HAVE SEX.
Stiles: He seems happy though?
Cora: Like, unbelievably so.
Stiles: Man, we just made out a little.
Stiles: Imagine what his reaction’ll be when we do have sex?
Cora: GROSS.

—————————————————————————

Stiles: Isn’t this whole courting thing supposed to involve actual dates?
Derek: Kinda, why?
Stiles: Because I’d like some. Dates, that is.
Derek: Ok… When?
Stiles: Friday. Plan something awesome oh alpha, my alpha.
Derek: ass. Ok.

And really, getting Derek to agree to a date was way easier than Stiles
expected it to be.
—————————————————————————
Derek shows up Friday evening looking way too hot to possibly be there for
Stiles, in one of his stupid henleys and a leather jacket and yeah, Stiles has
gotta be dreaming. This can’t be his life.
His Dad ends that notion by very loudly clearing his throat and setting his gun
down dramatically on the kitchen counter. Yep. Totally his life.
“Dad, can we please not threaten the only alpha that wants to date my skinny
omega ass?” Stiles asks once he’s managed to get Derek to wait in the living
room and coralled his dad in the kitchen.
“What? I’m not threatening anyone.” and Stiles’ Dad has his most innocent
expression on, like he’s not trying to scare Derek away. Stiles doesn’t believe
it for a second.
“You’re like ten seconds from sitting down in there to clean your gun and
asking Derek about his intentions and after that it’s only a few minutes until
the ‘if you hurt him’ speech and a reminder about curfew, I can feel it. That’s
threatening!”
“I’m not threatening.” the Sheriff says, raising his hands in front of him in a
surrendering gesture. “I’m promising that if the kid hurts you I’ll lock his
ass in jail for a couple nights and Talia probably won’t even be mad at me.”
“She really wouldn’t be.” Derek says from behind Stiles, and Stiles flails in
surprise, nearly falling forward.
“Sneaking up on people is rude.” He says as Derek grabs the back of his shirt
to keep him upright.
“I didn’t sneak up on you. Pay more attention to your surroundings.”
“Some people don’t have alpha hearing and werewolf hearing. Make some noise
when you move behind people dude.”
“Don’t call me dude.”
“Sure thing big guy.”
Stiles grins, Derek’s lips twitch into a smile and Stiles isn’t paying any
attention to his Dad’s groaning.
“Alright, you two get out of here.” His Dad says, seemingly sick of the looks
Stiles is now shooting Derek. Stiles likes to think they’re ‘we’re totally
gonna make out a ton because your smile’ looks. “Make sure he’s home before
curfew and don’t let him convince you to do anything illegal.”
“I wouldnever.” Stiles insists, shaking his head. “I’m offended you think I’d
try to get an upstanding citizen like Derek to do anything illegal. I’m the son
of a sheriff.”
“Mhm, sure. Go on your date kiddo. Have fun.” He says and ruffles Stiles hair
before nudging them both out of the kitchen.
“Bye dad! Love you, I promise not to get pregnant!” Stiles shouts as Derek
leads him out the door and into the Camaro.
“When your Dad kills me I want it stated in my obituary that you’re the cause
of death.” Derek says, shaking his head at Stiles as he pulls the Camaro out of
the driveway and onto the road.
“My Dad’s not gonna kill you. He’s known you since you were a baby. My mom
loved you. If for no other reason than that there will be no death.”
“I think he would. I think you’re his only kid and you’re only sixteen and he’d
murder me if I impregnated you.”
“Oh god don’t say it like that. Impregnate. That sounds so clinical.” Stiles
screws his face up with his words though his expression quickly changes into
something more amused at Derek’s pained expression. Stiles is pretty sure if he
wasn’t worried about crashing with Stiles in the car he’d be slamming his head
into the steering wheel.
“You’re awful.”
“You’re dating me, so really it’s your fault. Besides, we might not even ever
sleep with each other. You might like me better as an obnoxious friend slash
friend of your little sister who you wish would go away. It could happen. I get
tiring, I know it.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“The sleeping together or the deciding you like me better as your little
sister’s obnoxious friend who even she tells to go away sometimes?”
“The second. Stop acting like you’re not- I don’t know, attractive, wantable,
whatever the hell it is you seem to think you’re not.” Derek’s eyebrows are
doing this weird thing where they look part concerned and part irritated and
Stiles thinks he kind of wants to press his lips between them and smooth them
out with his thumbs.
“It’s not like people tend to be into me big guy. Up until the whole omega
thing I was kinda a bottom of the totem pole kinda guy. Even as an omega people
don’t seem to be wanting a piece of the Stiles action. I’m kinda awkward if you
haven’t noticed and without the hormones I’m pretty sure no one would wanna be
all up in-“ He’s suddenly cut off by Derek’s hand over his mouth and Stiles
just now notices that Derek’s pulled the car over to the shoulder, which is
good, because Stiles doesn’t want to die in a car crash because Derek had to
physically shut him up.
“I liked you before you presented.” Derek says, and Stiles licks Derek’s hand
to try and get him to let go so he can call bullshiton that, but Derek keeps
his hand firmly there so Stiles does his very best to express his utter
disbelief with only the top half of his face. “Stop looking at me like that. I
did. I’m not into you just because you’re an omega.”
“Why?” Stiles asks, the second Derek’s hand is removed from his mouth.
“What?”
“Why? Did you like me, that is.”
Derek shrugs his shoulder, looking like he’s not sure how exactly to say
whatever it is he wants to say. “Because you’re you. You’re Stiles. You’re all
at once the most frustrating, annoying person I’ve ever met -and I have Laura
as a sister- and the kindest, most loyal, smartest person I know. Everyone who
isn’t trying to steal you out from under me is a fucking idiot.”
Stiles smiles, bright and brilliant and with his heart practically in his
throat he’s so happy and then proceeds to stab himself painfully with the gear
shift as he tries to climb across the car to suck Derek’s face.
Derek, the asshole, laughs at Stiles’ totally manly squeak of pain. Stiles
sticks his tongue out at him before he flops back into his seat with a harumph.
“I was gonna kiss you but now I’m not gonna since you’re a jerk.”
“I was being sweet and this is the thanks I get?”
“Yep. Now onward, take me on this date you’ve got planned jerkface.”
Derek doesn’t reply other than to start the car again and Stiles sets to
fiddling with the radio immediately.
A few minutes later Derek’s slowing the car to a stop at… The Hale house?
“This is supposed to be a date, not you pawning me off on your horde of family
members. Last time I was here like three of your cousins wrapped themselves
around my legs. I was stuck there for like 30 minutes.” Stiles wags his finger
at Derek, like it’ll make his point better. Not that he minds Derek’s family.
Stiles loves the Hales, okay? No one dislikes the Hales, except for like, half
the Argents, but hunters don’t count because Stiles is convinced most of them
are insane. Still, a real life date had sounded nice and Stiles can subject
himself to tiny werewolves any ol’ time.
“Good thing my horde of family members aren’t here then.” Derek says, climbing
out of the car and coming around to open Stiles’ doors like they’re in some
sort of movie set in the 1950s.
Stiles resists the urge to clutch his chest and exclaim ‘Oh Danny!’ only
because he’s not willingly casting himself as Sandra Dee and instead raises his
eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re telling me that somehow, someway, none of your
family is here tonight? That’s a thing that happens?” He asks as he manages to
get out of the car without too much flailing involved.
“Yes, Stiles, that is a thing that happens.”
“Where are all eleven billion of them then?” Stiles asks, because seriously,
there’s like a hundred Hales and it feels like most of them live at the main
Hale house most days. It’s mind boggling that none of them would be at the
house.
“Laura and Heather are at their own house for once, I think Uncle Peter took
his mate and kids on some weird spa vacation thing, Cora’s at whatever class
she takes on Friday nights where she gets to hit people, Noah’s at a movie, and
Mom and Dad took the rest of them out for dinner and ice cream.” Derek says
with a shrug, tugging Stiles towards the house.
“Cora doesn’t need classes on hitting people, she’s already too mean.” Stiles
says, allowing Derek to drag him along and into the house for their date.
——————————————————————————
Stiles is forced to accept that his heat is going to come pretty soon about a
week before school starts. The signs are there, but the final blow comes from
his doctor at his check up when the woman says “well sweetie, it looks like
you’re all set to go into heat pretty shortly. I’d say end of the month at the
latest.”
“But I’m supposed to have a year.” Stiles whines, and he knows he’s whining,
but he can’t help it.
“Not necessarily. Within a year is the common expectation, and within a few
months is fairly common as well. Everything’s actually progressing as it should
be Stiles.”
“Maybe the tests are wrong?” Stiles tries, because he’s just getting used to
the omega thing okay? He’s not ready for his heat to hit. He’ll have to get
shots, and finish setting up a place to go through it and talk to Derek. Shit,
he’s going to have to talk to Derek.
“They’re not.” His doctor says, fixing him with a look. It’s the look only a
doctor who’s treated him since he was an infant can give, the look of someone
who’s dealt with Stiles and his many issues for over a decade and a half. “Talk
to your Dad, consider your options and once you have call me and we’ll get you
set up with suppressants or birth control depending on what you pick.”
Stiles shudders at the mention of suppressants but agrees. He’s quiet for the
rest of his appointment, stuck in his thoughts and not paying much attention.
——————————————————————————
“Hey, so like, you still like me and are happy you’re doing this courting thing
and stuff right?” Stiles questions from his spot on the Hale’s couch, his feet
tucked up in Derek’s lap and his pre-calc book in his lap. Stiles is supposed
to be doing homework, but it’s pretty safe to say that he hasn’t managed much.
“Yeah, though this question is making me start to regret it.” Derek says, and
Stiles knows he’s joking but he kicks his thigh anyway.
“Don’t be a dick, I’m having a moment here.” Stiles’ words seem to have the
effect of making Derek’s entire expression go soft and concerned and before
Stiles knows it he’s being dragged into the older boy’s lap. He protests only a
little, and only by shoving at Derek’s shoulder and not even because he doesn’t
like Derek’s lap, only because manhandling is rude Derek, not everyone is a
caveman werewolf and okay with just being dragged around.
“What’s wrong?”
“I had to go to the doctor today.” Stiles says, and Derek’s expression turns so
concerned that Stiles gets distracted for a moment with wanting to press his
lips to the furrow between his eyebrows so that it smooths out. It’s a pretty
common distraction for him, to be honest. “It’s nothing bad, I swear! Don’t
make that face. She just wanted to give me a check up now that the omega bomb
has dropped and all that and Dad wouldn’t let me put it off any longer.”
“You shouldn’t be putting off seeing the doctor…”
“Excuse a guy for having issues with doctor’s offices. They’re not exactly my
favorite place, even if my doctor is pretty cool.” She still gave Stiles’
superhero stickers. She was pretty rad as far as medical professionals went.
“What’d she say that has you all weird though?”
“Can’t a guy be weird just because of a phobia?”
“Not like this.”
“Okay, okay. She said I’m about ready for heat. Like, by the end of the month
ready. Like, a couple weeks from now ready.” Stiles is terribly tempted to
close his eyes so he’s not watching Derek, or press his fingers over his eyes
and peek through like a kid because whatever reaction he’s expecting from Derek
is not what he ends up getting. Derek just raises an eyebrow, looking utterly
unfazed.
“That’s it?”
“Yes, that’s it!” Stiles shoves at Derek’s shoulder hard, frowning when Derek
doesn’t react to the shove. Stupid werewolves. “Excuse me for being nervous
about spending a week feeling like I’m on fire literally for your dick… Not
that I’m saying you’re going to be there in person for the me being on fire
part. That part is up to you obviously. You are under no pressure to be there.
This is a pressure free zone, yep.” He flails a little, popping the p in yep
like an idiot.
“Do you want me to be?” And Derek looks nervous, like he thinks maybe Stiles
doesn’t want him to be there which is crazy.
“Uh yeah, I do.Duh.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, of course, you jerk.”
“Okay. Okay, good.” Derek’s expression is slowly turning into something pleased
and Stiles is convinced that he’s a giant dork.
“So, you’ll, uh, y’know, be there… then?”
“No, I’m going to leave my boyfriend to deal with his first heat by himself.”
Derek says, all sarcasm and Stiles can’t be irritated by it because he gets a
horrible flutter every time Derek refers to him as his boyfriend. Plus sarcasm
is a great look on Derek in Stiles’ humble opinion.
“Jerkface.” Stiles says with absolutely no heat before he’s dipping his head to
kiss Derek’s jaw happily. “This means we’re totally having sex. Score for
Stiles Stillinski, I’ve snagged me a babe that’s gonna bang me. Man, I’m so
lucky.”
“I need brain bleach.” Cora says from the doorway from the kitchen to the
living room, looking sick.
—————————————
Stiles is pretty sure, like 99.99% sure in fact, that frequent making out has
opened the door to Derek being a clingy octopus. He’s also pretty sure it’s
lead to Derek reverting back to werewolf boundaries, as opposed to normal
person boundaries. It’s why he’s not super surprised to wake up to the sound of
his window opening and Derek climbing through it into his room.
“Stalker.” He mumbles as Derek drops onto the bed, wrapping around him like a
weird wolf koala hybrid.
Derek grunts and shoves his face into Stiles throat without responding, so
Stiles curls his fingers through his hair, scratching behind his ears.
“You know, my Dad has a gun. He might not ever kill you, but he’d totally shoot
you in the foot if he saw this.”
“He’s at work.” Derek shrugs, uncaring despite earlier fears about Stiles’ Dad
murdering him with wolfsbane bullets. Stiles’ Dad agreeing to Derek being
Stiles’ heat partner without much of a fuss had apparently eased a lot of
Derek’s worries.
“You still coulda used the door. Using the window is weird.” He says, and he
knows Derek knows he doesn’t mean it, because Stiles is pretty fond of Derek
being there always, especially as his heat gets closer and closer.
“If I’d used the door you’d be complaining right now about me making you get
out of bed to answer it.” Derek points out and okay, yeah, point.
“Y’know, we’ve got at least four hours before my Dad gets home.” Stiles says,
rapidly changing the subject. He waggles his eyebrows and slides a hand up
under Derek’s shirt, grinning at the older boy.
Derek pulls his face out of Stiles’ neck just enough for Stiles to see his
raised eyebrows.
“Your point is?” Derek asks, and his tone is carefully neutral. Stiles isn’t
sure what exactly that tone means, but he’s going to plow forward with his
point anyway.
“My point is that that is totally enough time to fool around. I’m a sexually
frustrated omega Derek, you’re supposed to be satisfying my needs.”
“Yeah, no, it doesn’t actually work that way. At least, not until you’re
actually in heat. I don’t have to fuck you just because you’re horny Stiles.”
Derek says and he looks so serious, but Stiles can tell that he’s totally
amused. He thinks Stiles and his needs are funny, the jerk.
“Don’t be a jerk.” Stiles says, moving his hand back up to Derek’s head so he
can curl both hands around Derek’s ears. Stiles is maybe minorly obsessed with
them. He can’t be blamed, they’re damned adorable. “I just- I dunno, I don’t
want my first time to be during heat. I’ve heard it can be kinda shitty, and I
won’t really be all there, and I’ll be miserable.”
Stiles likes to think he’s practically fluent in the language of Derek’s facial
expressions, but he’s not quite sure what to make of the one Derek’s making
now. Finally though, Derek nods.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Stiles asks, because seriously, that answer tells Stiles nothing.
“Okay. Your first time won’t be during heat.”
“So romantic. I feel like I’m in a movie.” Stiles deadpans and ducks the light
smack to the top of his head.
“If you want a lot of romance you should probably date someone else.” Derek
says, a weird tone to his voice.
Stiles rolls his eyes, pulls Derek in by ears and kisses him soundly.
“Romance is for losers anyway. I’d rather act like an old married couple with
you anyway.”
Derek smiles at Stiles’ words, his weird front bunny teeth showing and Stiles
can’t help it, he leans in again to smack a ridiculous kiss to Derek’s lips and
lick those dumb teeth.
———————————————
Derek shows up the next afternoon, less than a half hour after Stiles’ Dad has
left for work.
“Look at who finally figured out how to use a door.” Stiles says when he opens
the door to find him on his porch.
“I’ve always known how to use a door, jesus.” He’s scowling so hard that Stiles
just knows he’s nervous.
“Stop looking like you wanna kill me, I’m not feeling the Stiles love here.”
Stiles says as he grabs onto Derek’s hand and drags him into the house.
“Why did I agree to have sex with you?” Derek questions, but he already seems
to be relaxing slightly, his shoulders losing a bit of tension and his scowl
turning from murderous to just irritated.
“Because I smelldelicious.”
Derek puts on a show of looking like he’s thinking and shakes his head. “No,
that’s not it.” He says and lets Stiles drag him in for a kiss.
“Soo, you ready to pop my cherry?” Stiles asks with a waggle of his eyebrows
and a delighted laugh at Derek’s pained groan. He likes it when Derek sounds
like Stiles’ ridiculousness physically pains him.
“I hate you.”
“Such lies.” Stiles says, opening his mouth to tell Derek he knows the guy
adores him but getting cut off by Derek’s mouth against his.
Huh. Stiles thinks he can live with that. Especially when Derek nudges him
towards the couch, drops onto it and drags Stiles down so he’s straddling him.
Derek’s hands are everywhere, running up along Stiles’ side and over his back
and across his throat and in his hair and it’s a little overwhelming. In the
best way, of course, but still, it feels like more than what Stiles expected.
He’d expected the touching, yeah, but he hadn’t expected it to feel quite like
this. He hadn’t expected his heart to feel like it’ll fly out of his chest when
Derek drops his head into the crook of his throat and sucks a mark there.
“There should totally be less clothes in this situation.” Stiles mumbles,
sounding breathless to his own ears. He’s suddenly very focused on getting
Derek’s skin against his skin, hooking his hands underneath the hem of Derek’s
shirt and pushing it up.
Derek shushes him, literally makes little “shhh” noises and nudges his nose to
Stiles’ jaw, catching Stiles’ hands with his own to still them.
“Hey, there’s no reason to rush this. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Patience isn’t exactly my virtue.”
“You’re the one that said you didn’t want this to be like heat. I’m making sure
it’s not.” Derek says, sounding serious and determined and god, Stiles kind of
melts, because that’s so stinking sweet he can’t even handle it.
“Okay, okay, slow it is. Slowwww.” He drags the word out, sliding his hands up
so his fingers can curl into the hair behind Derek’s ears.
“Slow.” Derek agrees solemnly and kisses the tip of Stiles’ nose. Then he’s
pushing Stiles up and standing after him. “C’mon, I’m gonna cook you dinner.”
“You’re going to cook me dinner?” Stiles questions, hoping he doesn’t look
quite as incredulous as he feels. “Cora told me you’re not allowed. That you
almost burned down your kitchen. Twice.”
“Cora has a big mouth.” Derek says, but he doesn’t deny what Stiles just said.
“No way, big bad, you are not burning down my kitchen. I’ll cook. I can cook
like a motherfucking champion.” He says and Derek has the brains to nod in
agreement and follow Stiles into the kitchen.
***
Two hours later Stiles is filled with delicious pasta and has managed to get
Derek to relocate to his bed so that he can lay on top of him and lazily make
out. It’s actually kind of perfect and Stiles has decided that Derek’s
insistence on slow is alright by him.
He decides after ten more minutes that he’s okay with slow, but not glacial so
he creeps his hands under Derek’s shirt, slides his palms up his sides and
drags his nails back down, grinning into the kiss at the noise Derek makes in
the back of his throat.
“Hey, hey, I really really like you and I wanna suck your dick.” Stiles says,
because he has absolutely zero tact. It has the desired effect though, Derek’s
breathing does something weird and he looks at Stiles with want. It’s kind of
fantastic, it makes him feel like the sexually alluring creature that everyone
seems to believe omegas are supposed to be, the one Stiles has never, a day in
his life, felt like. “Does that sound okay?”
“Yeah- Yes- I mean, if you’re sure.” Derek says before kissing Stiles hard.
“Totally sure.” Stiles says after another lapse in talking for a few minutes of
kissing. “Now lay back and prepare to have your world rocked.”
He hums approvingly when Derek listens, flopping back onto the bed and letting
Stiles straddle his legs. Stiles has never sucked a dick, but he’s hoping a
life long oral fixation will help him here, or that instincts will lead him or
something because he wants to do this, wants to make it good for Derek. He’s
sort of terrified of being bad at it, to be honest.
It turns out, his fears are for nothing, because the second he’s got Derek’s
pants pulled down and his mouth around his dick Derek lets out this bit back
sort of whimpering noise, whole body going tense like he’s trying not to buck
up into Stiles’ mouth.
Stiles pulls off with a grin, looking up at Derek. “I’m the best at sucking
dick.” He says smugly and Derek looks at him with an expression that
communicates ’You’re an asshole’pretty perfectly.
Stiles just pats his thigh in a there there gesture and ducks his head to take
Derek back into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking for all he’s worth.
Derek fucking whines and Stiles hums approvingly, can’t help but feel terribly
proud of himself when that causes Derek’s tightly held control to slip a little
and he jerks his hips up, fingers clenched tight in Stiles’ bedspread.
“I thought- I thought you hadn’t done this before.” Derek mumbles, stumbling
over his words when Stiles licks a stripe up the vein on the underside of his
dick and tongues at the slit.
“I haven’t. Trust me, your dick is totally the first dick my mouth has come
into contact with. That any of me has come into contact with.”
"Then how are you so good at it?” Derek asks and Stiles has to resist the urge
to preen. He fails, there is definitely some preening as Stiles nuzzles his
nose into the crook where Derek’s thigh meets his pelvis.
“Lots of porn, a pretty detailed guide on tumblr, being an omega and thus born
to take dicks in whatever way. Y’know, in some countries, the omega sex slave
trade is huge because of that? Hell, in some places in America it’s huge. We’re
not as developed as we like to think, Sacramento’s close and they’re one of the
biggest sex trafficking cities in the US.”
“Stiles, please don’t talk about depressing things in bed?” Derek looks like
he’s summoning up vast amounts of patience. He also still looks terribly turned
on, flushed and a little breathless. Stiles wants to kiss him. Instead he sucks
a mark into his hip, watches it disappear before his eyes as Derek’s healing
takes care of it.
“So I shouldn’t start a discussion about how Michigan is still having a water
crisis or anything like that?”

“Please don’t.”
“Gotcha big guy.”
"Thank you.” Derek says, the words turning into a groan when Stiles sucks him
down again, taking as much of him into his mouth as he can and using his hand
to wrap around the rest. He’s pretty curious about deepthroating, but he also
has no desire to gag and nearly throw up on Derek’s dick. That’s not sexy.
Ignoring curiosity isn’t Stiles’ strong suit, so he pulls back for a moment,
says “stay super still, okay?” before diving back in and taking Derek’s dick in
as far as possible, until it bumps the back of his throat. He gags once, has to
pull back before trying again but he thinks he kindasorta gets the hang of it.
Derek’s letting out a steady stream of “fuck fuck fuck, oh my god, fuck”and
tearing holes into Stiles’ bedspread with his claws so yeah, he’s at least
doing something right.
Stiles gets sort of lost in it, in the weight of Derek on his tongue and lips,
the noises he’s making and the feel of his skin beneath his hands. It’s weirdly
easy to just zone out and enjoy it, and he’s not sure exactly how long he’s at
it before Derek’s saying “I’m gonna- fuck, I’m gonna” and coming in his mouth.
Stiles swallows on reflex and then Derek’s grabbing at him, dragging him and
pulling him into a kiss that’s uncoordinated but somehow perfect.
“You’re so damn perfect.” Derek says, sounding so awed it makes Stiles a little
uncomfortable.
“Sappy wolf is sappy.” Stiles says, unable to be too serious. The way Derek’s
looking at him is too intense, too much like Stiles is the most incredible
thing he’s ever seen and he’s afraid if he lets go Stiles will slip away. “You
better be able to get it up again before my Dad gets off work. What I’ve read
about werewolf and alpha stamina better not be a lie.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” Derek says, eyes tracing over Stiles.
Stiles will deny to his last breath that that doesn’t make him blush. “Hands
and knees.” He adds after a moment and Stiles’ eyebrows shoot up.
“What? Why?” Stiles asks, and because Derek is a dick he doesn’t answer, just
smacks lightly at Stiles’ flank and stares at him until Stiles’ obeys,
shuffling around until he’s on his knees, leaned forward and braced on his
forearms.
Derek spends long moments running his hands in long stripes over Stiles’ back,
occasionally digging his fingers into the muscles and working out knots or
skimming lower over his ass before moving on and continuing over his back
again. Just when Stiles is convinced that’s all this is going to be, Derek
spreads his asscheeks apart and holy hell, there’s his mouth.
Stiles does not whine, especially not a high pitched keening whine. He might
however admit to the “fuck.” he lets out when Derek goes from a broad lick
across his hole to doing something that involves pointing his tongue and lets
out a noise like this is the best thing he’s ever done.
“Holy shit. Oh my god. That’s good, oh my god that’s good. Keep- Yeah, just
keep doing that oh my god Derek.” He babbles, unable to keep himself from
pushing back a little, trying to get more. “More, more, please more, oh my
god.”
Derek seems to be aiming to please because a finger joins his tongue, working
in and out of him with it and Stiles is pretty sure he’s devolved to saying
strings of syllables instead of words, rocking back as Derek works up to two
fingers and then three.
“Okay, okay, I’m ready. C’mon, I’m ready.” He says, pushing back into Derek’s
fingers and whining “Please” when Derek doesn’t seem inclined to stop working
him open with his mouth and fingers. “Please, please, please, please.”
“Hey, shh, I’m gonna.” Derek assures, using the hand that’s not currently
occupied with Stiles’ ass to pet over his side. “Condom?”
“No, it’s fine, I got my shot like a week ago. There will be no mini-Stiles-
Derek spawns for quite some time yet. We’re safe. C’mon, fuck me, now.” He
insists, shoving back against Derek’s fingers impatiently.
“So impatient.” Derek says, but he sounds amused and then his fingers are gone
and Stiles is making a protesting noise, feeling too empty before it’s being
replaced by the feel of Derek’s cock.
He’s trying to go slow, Stiles can tell, because it’s just the tip so far and
he’s gone tense and tight behind him, hands gripping Stiles’ hips tightly.
Stiles is having none of that though, and shoves backwards until Derek slides
home.
“Fuck.” He breathes, going taunt at the intrusion.
“Are you okay?” The words sound strained, like it’s taking Derek a huge amount
of effort to reign himself in, but Stiles has no doubt that if he said no the
older boy would pull out, baby him for the rest of the night and that’d
probably be the end of the sex thing until heat.
"Yeah. Yeah. Just give me a second. Shit. It’s a lot. I didn’t- I don’t know, I
didn’t expect it to be- This much?”
“Alphas aren’t meant to be small?"
“No shit.” Stiles laughs, and it makes his body shift, makes Derek shift inside
of him and it doesn’t feel so weird anymore. He moves experimentally, rolling
his hips back against Derek and yeah, yeah, he can definitely handle that.
“Okay, okay, you can move now.” He says, and he can practically feel the relief
rolling off of Derek that he doesn’t need to stay still any longer.
Derek starts with slow, easy thrusts, the first few feel good, and they keep
getting better after that, Derek’s hands on his hips dragging him into Derek’s
thrusts in counterpoint. At some point something changes, Derek hits something
inside Stiles and he cries out. “FUCK! There, there, oh my god, whatever you
just did keep doing that.” He demands, and Derek only seems happy to oblige.
Derek seems happy to give Stiles whatever he wants, to be honest. When Stiles
begs for “harder, harder, oh my god, harder, I’m not fucking china Derek, you
can fuck me harder than that” he obeys, and when Stiles slumps forward, bites
into the pillow with “Faster, oh god, just a little bit faster, please please
please Derek”absolutely wrecked, well, he speeds up his thrusts, hands a
bruising pressure on Stiles’ hips as he fucks into him. Stiles is going to have
bruises on his hips, and the back of his spine and neck where Derek’s been
mouthing, but he can’t find it in him to be anything other than elated over
that.
Everything seems to build up until Stiles feels like he’s about to fall off the
edge, hurtling towards orgasm and he has to squirm to get his hand around his
dick, stroking just twice before he’s coming his goddamn brains out, pressing
his face into the pillow to muffle his shouted “Derek.”
Derek seems undone by Stiles’ orgasm, at the way Stiles clenches around him,
and his teeth dig into Stiles’ shoulder in a way Stiles knows will leave a mark
as he spills into him.
After, Derek nudges and tugs at and manhandles Stiles until they’re both laid
out in the bed, out of the wet spot with Stiles draped over Derek. Stiles feels
boneless and satisfied, happy just to lay there for a moment and nuzzle at
Derek’s chest, rub his face into Derek’s chest hair and feel it against his
cheek.
“You’re a bossy shit in bed.” Derek mumbles, hand rubbing up over Stiles back
over and over again. He doesn’t sound displeased though, more fond and a little
comedrunk than anything.
“Mmmhmm, you liked it.” Stiles says, tries to sound assured of himself instead
of questioning.
“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“I knew it.” Stiles would crow and dance about about being right, but his limbs
feel like jelly and it’s really too much effort. The statement feels like
enough, and he falls silent for a moment, his next words a quiet “Thank you.”
Derek only hums a noise that Stiles takes to mean ‘You’re welcome’, doesn’t ask
what he’s being thanked for or try to discuss it and Stiles is thankful. He’s
not sure he wants to explain that he’s thankful Derek did this with him now,
that he made sure his first time was like this, when Stiles was still entirely
himself instead of crazy and mindless with heat.
Stiles passes out on top of Derek, his face smushed into Derek’s chest and
Derek’s arms tight around him.
—————————————————
When Stiles wakes up next, it’s to realize he slept straight through the night
and Derek is sill there, though their position has changed to spooning, Derek
pressed all along Stiles’ back with his arms around him and his face against
Stiles’ neck. Stiles is like 99% sure the guy is drooling on him, and he’s
making some seriously adorable snuffling noises in his sleep.
Stiles thinks it’s kinda perfect.
At least, until his Dad clears his throat from where he’s standing in Stiles’
doorway. The doorway containing the door that Stiles totally forgot to close
the night before, because he hadn’t planned on falling asleep before his Dad
got home, hadn’t planned on Derek still being here when he got home.
Stiles lifts a hand and waves awkwardly, whispers “Uh, hi Dad.” and wiggles out
of Derek’s grip, sparing a fond look when the older boy rolls into the spot
Stiles just vacated and smashes his face into Stiles’ pillow.
"So.” Dad says, once they’re safely in the kitchen and Stiles is rooting around
the freezer until he can find the package of bacon he hid in the very back
underneath the giant bag of cauliflower. He’s not above bribing his Dad.
“Soooo.” Stiles replies, because he’s not starting this conversation. He is so
not initiating this.
"Did you at least use protection?” John asks, looking so terribly uncomfortable
that Stiles feels a little bad for him.
“Oh my god, Dad, I got my shot already. Don’t worry, you’re not gonna be a
grandpa anytime soon.”
He frowns at the bacon as he unwraps it and sticks it in the microwave to
defrost. He hates his Dad eating the junk but desperate times call for
desperate measures. “I’m bribing you with bacon so that you don’t shoot my
boyfriend for like, taking my virtue or whatever it is you think he did.”
“Jesus christ Stiles, I’m not going to shoot your boyfriend.”
“You could. We Stillinski’s are impulsive beasts, you might get impulsive and
bam, Derek’s been shot. I’ve gotta get this trait from somewhere.”
“Your mother.” John says immediately, shaking his head. “I spent six months
deciding whether or not to propose and how, meanwhile she decided within a week
of meeting me at sixteen that I’d be her mate. You definitelyget it from your
mother.”
“Good to know.” Stiles says, lips curving up into a small, sad smile at the
detail about his Mom.
————————————
They go on three more dates before Stiles’ heat is supposed to hit. On the last
one, when Stiles’ emotions are high and his hormones going out of control they
argue for ten minutes over which movie to see and Stiles stalks out of the
theater, frustrated and emotional and pissed the fuck off at Derek and his dumb
face.
He’s not sure where he even intends to go. It’s not like he has his jeep with
him. Derek drove them, and home isn’t anywhere close to walking distance.
Besides, it’s not particularly safe for an overly emotional omega to be walking
on the side of the road, even Stiles knows that. So he just sort of stalks
across the parking lot, finds an island and plops his ass down on a curb, arms
crossed in front of his chest while he stews.
He hates this, hates the way he feels like he’s going insane because of his
emotions, and the low level burn under his skin that means his heat is coming
and it’s coming soon. He knows, he really does, that he shouldn’t be taking
this out on Derek, but well, Derek is there, and he argues a little bit back,
but for the most part he just kind of takes it, deals with Stiles’ mood swings
and his sarcastic comments and his need to start a fight like a fucking
champion.
Stiles is grateful, which just serves to piss him off even more.
Derek lets him stew for what feels like an eternity but is really probably less
than ten minutes before he finds Stiles, holding his hands out to help the
younger boy up.
“C’mon, we’re going somewhere.”
“What? Where? Why?” Stiles questions, confused by the apparently sudden change
in plans. “I thought we were going to a movie.”
“Change of plans. You need a break, or else you’re going to drive yourself
insane and rip my head off in the process.”
“Okay. That might be true.” Stiles agrees, letting Derek guide him to the car
and into the passenger seat. “Take me away on this mystery adventure.” He gives
a sweeping gesture with his arm, settling into his seat and making himself
comfy.
It’s not until nearly 40 minutes later, when they’re driving down I-5 that he
decides to question
where the hell Derek is taking him. “Dude, where are we going? You’re not
kidnapping me right? They’re not gonna find my body in the river somewhere
after this?”
No, of course not. I’m just- You seem like you need a break. I’m just trying to
make that happen.” Derek says, shrugging sort of helplessly. Stiles nods, lets
that be that.
At least until a while later when he shoves at Derek’s shoulder repeatedly,
gesturing to the exit ahead. “Exit! Take the exit! I want soup.”
“It’s summer.” Derek’s nose scrunches up in confusion and Stiles flails at him
again, gesturing to the exit until Derek takes it.
“It’s an institution. Besides, you brought me on this little adventure, you
damn well better buy me some soup. Me and Mom used to stop here all the time
when we headed down this way.”
And well, Derek seems to melt at that, nodding and pulling into the parking
lot. “I still don’t understand the fuss about it though.”
“Andersen’s is an institution.” Stiles says gravely and drags Derek inside.
An hour later, once Stiles is stuffed with soup and at least 4 glasses of soda
and Derek has made him use the bathroom (Stiles had griped and called him
grandpa for that), they’re on the road again. Stiles is still mystified as to
where the hell they’re going, but he’s also a lot more relaxed than he was
before. Leaving Beacon Hills behind for awhile seems to be doing the trick, and
Stiles spends the rest of the ride leaning into the side of his door, passed
the fuck out.
Derek shakes him awake later and Stiles comes to with a groan. “Where are we?”
He asks, the question coming out slurred as he blinks his eyes open, glancing
at Derek and then past him at “the beach? We’re at the beach?”
Derek suddenly looks nervous, shrugging his shoulders and standing back to let
Stiles out of the car. “I just- I don’t know, I thought it might be a good
idea. Cora said you talk about going a lot with your mom, when you two needed a
break, and Mom used to bring me. I though it might help. It’s stupid, I know.”
“No, no!” Stiles says quickly, reaching out to snag both of Derek’s hands in
his own. “It’s perfect. It’s great.” He squeezes Derek’s hands, trying to make
that nervous look go away.
Once it has he makes a point of taking a look around, taking in the parking lot
they’re in, the little area for standing and looking at the beach just ahead
with a pretty large bulletin board on it and the pathway that leads down to the
beach, which is mostly empty in the early afternoon on a Tuesday. Stiles is
kind of glad for that, likes the idea of it just being him and Derek.
“This is perfect.” He reiterates again, watching as Derek is now getting into
the trunk and grabbing bags. “Did you stop for stuff? Did I sleep through you
stopping for stuff?” He asks, because Derek has several walmart bags and Stiles
can see what looks like towels and food in them.
“I figured if you were asleep I should let you sleep? You’ve seemed like you
needed it.” Derek says, shrugging and shifting all of the bags onto one arm
before he’s grabbing onto Stiles’ hand and leading him down the path and onto
the beach.
“So, you just totally spur of the moment planned me an epic beach date?” Stile
asks, grinning at the way Derek glances away at that, like he doesn’t quite
want to meet Stiles’ eyes. “Oh my god, you did. You’re kinda perfect Derek
Hale.” He says and stuffs his shoes into Derek’s arms once they reach the sand
and it becomes harder to walk in them.
Derek takes them without complaint, because he’s totally smitten with Stiles.
Stiles just knows it. He’s pretty sure Derek wouldn’t even deny it if he was
accused of it. It’s kinda awesome.
“You brought food right?” He asks, once they’re down on the beach properly and
Derek has spread out a blanket over the sand to sit on. Stiles plops down on
it, close to the edge so that he can dig his feet into the sand and wiggle his
toes.
"Do you have a black hole in there or something?” Derek asks, even as he hands
Stiles two grocery bags filled with food.
“Heat preparation man, my doctor said it was normal-and totally important,
actually- to chunk up right before. It’s to help with the massive calories that
are going to be burned, or something.” He says, the last few words a little
garbled around the handful of Doritos he’s shoved into his mouth.
He spends a moment eating chips and watching the waves crash onto the beach
before he’s hopping to his feet and gesturing for Derek to get up with him.
“C’mon, be cheesy and walk along the beach with me. We can do ‘if you’re a bird
I’m a bird’ scene from The Notebook.”
“I refuse.” Derek says, though he’s standing without Stiles’ forcing him to, so
he takes it as half an agreement.
“C’mon, say I’m a bird.”
“No. That movie is awful.”
“That’s what’s so great about it. That’s why you have to tell me I’m a bird.”
“But you’re not a bird.” Derek says, at which point Stiles tackles him into the
sand.
Derek will insist later that he let him, Stiles will insist that he managed it
because Derek was distracted and wasn’t expecting his sweet kung-fu moves.
It’s four hours, several dozen selfies and at least eight attempts to push
Derek into the ocean later before they leave the beach. And even then it’s not
so much leaving the beach as making their way to the Hale beach house, because
of course the Hale’s have one of those.
Stiles keeps wondering aloud how he managed to land a dude with enough money to
have a beach house. Derek keeps reminding him it’s not his beach house, or his
money, it’s his family’s.
He manages to get Stiles to shut up pretty quickly by tossing Stiles’ cell
phone at him with a quick reminder of “You should probably call your Dad. Make
sure he’s not freaking out because you’re not home yet. I don’t want to be shot
because I kidnapped the Sheriff’s kid.”
Stiles groans, stretches out on the bed and exaggeratedly flails his arms
around. “You’re the one who brought me out here, you should call.”
“Do you want your Dad to worry?” Derek asks, which hey, is not at all fair.
Guilt tripping Stiles is so not cool. Still, it does get Stiles to pick up his
phone and dial his Dad’s number, so maybe Derek just knows how to play Stiles
like a fiddle.
“Heyyyyy Dad.” Stiles starts, doing his best to not sound like he’s up to no
good, because he’s not, he’s being good, just three or so hours away from home
with his hot older boyfriend and no sort of adult supervision. It’s fiiiine.
“You at work?” He asks, because at work means not alone and unable to yell at
Stiles to the full extent he’d be able to at home.
“Yeah. What’s going on?” Shit, he already sounds suspicious.
“Nothing! Nothing’s going on. I just figured you should know I might not be
home when you get home. Since y’know, I’m a mature, reasonable human who lets
you know these things. Yep, mature and reasonable, that’s me.”

“…Stiles.”
“Yeah Dad?”
“Why won’t you be at home?”
“Cause I’m in Monterey?”
“And why are you in Monterey?”His Dad’s voice sounds patient, too patient, the
way that he’s only managed to make it after 16 years of dealing with Stiles as
a son and 6 of those years trying to do it on his own.
Stiles kinda feels bad for the guy, to be honest.
“Because Derek brought me? I swear we’re not doing anything wrong! I was just
going kinda crazy, like really crazy. I almost walked home in a weird
irrational crazy omega fit. It was awful. I think he thought it’d help to get
away for a little bit? And it did, is helping. I just needed a break Dad, like
bad. Sorry I didn’t tell you before we left, please don’t ground me or threaten
to shoot my crazy hot boyfriend? Who apparently has a family rich enough for a
beach house. You didn’t tell me they were that rich Dad. Cora didn’t tell me
either.” He was so going to have to complain at Cora for not telling him. They
were going to have words.

“Stiles, kid, slow down. I’m not going to ground you, or threaten to shoot
Derek. It’s- I’m not happy about you just up and running three hours away, but
if that’s what you had to do to deal with all the shit happening with you right
now, then I guess I’ll deal with it.”
“Thanks Dad. I think I needed it. I felt like I was gonna murder someone, and
then you’d have to lock up your own kid. This has gotta be way better.”

“I definitely prefer this to putting you in handcuffs, kid.”
“Figured as much. Hey, how cool is it that the Hale’s have a beach house
though? Like, they havetwo houses. I totally bagged myself a rich possible
mate.”
Stiles practically beams at the sound of his Dad’s groaning over the
line.“You’re still sixteen. It’s not the time for mate talk yet.”
“Alright, alright, got it. Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, Stiles?”
“I think I’m gonna pass out on the Hale’s super comfy bed. I’ll talk to you
tomorrow alright?”

“Alright.”
“Love you Dad.”

“Love you too kid.”
——————
Of course, Stiles heat decided to hit midway home from Monterey.Of course.
Stiles is pretty sure this is just his luck.
At first he’s not even aware it’s his heat, just feels uncomfortably warm and
cranks up the AC in Derek’s car until he can see Derek shivering a little in
his seat. His fixation on Derek’s hands and arm muscles is pretty normal too,
because Stiles has a hot boyfriend and takes plenty of time to appreciate that
fact.
It’s not until he’s thinking some very detailed thoughts about Derek’s fingers
in his ass, wiggling in his seat to try and get some sort of friction that the
thought occurs that maybe, justmaybehis heat started a little earlier than he’d
thought it would.
Derek straight up confirms it when he says “fuck, you’re in heat.” and is very
clearly doing his best to breathe through his mouth to avoid a huge hit of
Stiles’ omega pheromones.
“No shit Sherlock.” Stiles mutters, shifting his hips restlessly and fuck, he’s
totally looking at Derek’s crotch like it’s a popsicle on a hot summer’s day,
isn’t he? “You should pull over and let me blow you. Like now, right now. Or
even better, fuck me in the backseat. That’d be awesome.” Stiles says, suddenly
aware of the fact that he’s hot and sweaty and needed Derek’s dick in some part
of him like yesterday.
“No. Stiles, I’m not fucking you in my car on the side of the fucking freeway,
jesus christ.” Derek looks a little pained as he says the words, but not in the
normal ‘Stiles you’re ridiculous’ way, more in a ‘I’m seriously turned on, this
is awful’ way, and Stiles is a little proud of that. Or at least, part of him
is, the squirming omega part that just wants to be fucked. The lesser part, the
small, reasonableStilespart is slightly mortified that he’s mid heat begging
for Derek’s dick in the Camaro.
"Just a quickie? I promise it wouldn’t take long.”
“No. I’m calling your Dad to let him know we’re on the way and that you’re, uh,
indisposed.”
“Buzzkill.” Stiles mutters, even if he knows it’s a better idea to not have sex
in the car. He even wraps his hands around his knees to prevent himself
reaching over to grab Derek’s dick, because yeah, that’s a temptation he hadn’t
foreseen being quite as strong as it is.
Derek, because he follows the law even when Stiles is literally melting from
heat, is dialing his Dad on speakerphone. He huffs a sigh that sounds relieved
when John answers within two rings, voice a little fuzzy with sleep as he says
“Derek?”
“Sir, there’s uh, there might be a bit of a problem.”
“What’s wrong?” His Dad suddenly sounds alert, his voice turning into what
Stiles likes to mentally refer to as his Overprotective Alpha Voice.
“Stiles, well he, uh, he started his heat early. We’re on our way home, maybe
about an hour out.”
“Shit.” Stiles can hear the rush of air his Dad lets out, hates the fact that
he’s worrying the poor guy. “You think you’ll make it home alright, son?”
“Yeah- I mean, I don’t have any other option, right? Stiles can’t exactly ride
out his heat on the side of the road.” Derek says, and Stiles whines in
apology, rubbing his cheek against the headrest. Derek sounds awful and Stiles
wants to make him feel better, preferably with his hand on his dick. “Stiles,
no.” Derek’s voice cuts through, sharp, as his fingers wrap around Stiles’
wrist, stilling his hand from the progression it was making towards Derek’s
dick.

“Flick his nose. I’m tellin ya, it’ll work. He’ll yell at you for treating him
like a cat, but it used to work with Claudia.”
“I- Thank you, Sir. Can you make sure the heat room is ready? Or call Laura or
my Mom and have them do it? I know it’s supposed to be my job, but it’s kind of
an emergency.”

“Of course. Just make sure he gets home alright. Good luck.” With that his Dad
hangs up, and Stiles is left listening to the sound of Derek’s breathes and his
blood pumping overly loud in his ears.
“I don’t see why we can’t just pull over.” Stiles mumbles, hands moving
restlessly over his knees. He wants, he wants so fucking badly, but Derek won’t
let him touch, he knows that much.
“Because you’ll bitch at me like crazy once you’re 100% you again.” Derek says,
shaking his head at Stiles.
“Lies. I’d never bitch at you for being a good alpha and fucking me real good.”
Stiles says, grinning smugly when the car swerves.
“Still not happening.” Derek mutters.
It’s a long drive home.
At some point Stiles loses track of time. He feels like his brain is melting
out his ears, his blood too hot in his veins and his heart beating too fast.
Everything’s just a daze of too hot, too much, not enough until he feels arms
hooking under his back and knees and he’s pressing his face into Derek’s
throat, mouthing at the skin there mindlessly.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” His voice is soothing,
pitched low and suddenly Stiles is on a bed. He’s not sure when they moved,
doesn’t remember walking through the house, but he wiggles happily on the bed,
making grabby hands at Derek.
“C’mere. C’merecmerecmere.” He chants, wriggling to try and get out of his
pants, to try and grab Derek so he can get a hand or his mouth on his dick at
the same time.
“I’m here, shhh, I’m here.” Derek says, voice still low and it makes Stiles
want to curl up in it, makes him want to jerk offto it or hear it go wrecked
with Stiles’ mouth around his dick. “C’mon, lets get you out of these.” He’s
saying and he’s suddenly right there, a reassuring pressure on top of Stiles as
he manages to fit his hands between them and get Stiles out of his clothes with
a lot more ease than Stiles has been having with his own attempts at it.
Stiles sighs in relief as he’s stripped out of his many layers, though it only
lasts as long as it takes him to realize that Derek’s still dressed. “C’mon,
c’mon, you too. Less clothes, clothes are bad Derek.” Stiles says, sliding his
hands under Derek’s shirt to feel over the smooth skin. “You should never wear
clothes.”
“They’re kinda a necessary part of- of life.” Derek trips over his words when
Stiles scratches a blunt nail across his nipple and Stiles preens with pride.
He’s distracted from trying it again though when Derek strips out of his own
clothes and then they’re both gloriously naked and Stiles can press his whole
body up into Derek’s.
Everything still feels too hot and fuzzy, and there’s still this incessant need
under his skin but just being pressed closed to Derek, the flesh against flesh
is helping. It’s good, but it’s not enough. Stiles needs.
“C’mon, fuck me? I was good, right? I did so good on the way here, didn’t I? I
deserve it?” Stiles hardly recognizes his own voice, he sounds so desperate and
unsure.
“Yeah. Yes. Jesus, yes, you were good. So good, Stiles.” Derek’s tone has gone
reassuring, his hands sliding down, down, down Stiles’ body until they’re at
Stiles’ ass and a finger is working itself into him.
Stiles gasps, pressing back into it, trying to get more. “More.” Stiles pants,
because nothing feels like enough right now. “More, more, more. I can take it,
you don’t have to be careful, I’m pretty much biologically built to take it.”
Derek huffs an exasperated sigh at Stiles. “I don’t- I can’t hurt you, so let
me take care of you and do this as carefully as the situation’ll allow, okay?”
He says, though he’s somewhat listening to Stiles and adding another finger,
scissoring them apart and then curving until he hits that spot that makes
Stiles go all shivery.
Stiles preens internally, his heat brain oh so proud of himself for picking
such a good alpha who wants to take care of him. He tips his face up for a kiss
that Derek easily gives and Stiles sinks into, making low, pleased noises in
his throat as he lets himself ride out all of the hyper intense sensations.
Two fingers increases to three and then they’re gone and Stiles is so fucking
empty. It’s awful and Stiles it too far gone to keep from whining at the loss.
Derek makes soothing shushing noises and peppers kisses to Stiles’ cheeks
apologetically. “I got you, I got you. C’mon, roll over for me.” He instructs,
guiding Stiles over onto his hands and knees. Stiles arches his back,
presenting to try and tempt his alpha to hurry the hell up and fuck him
already. During any other time he’d probably be embarrassed by his behavior,
but maybe that’s the bright side to heat. There’s not really any shame to
anything, just want.
Big hands clutch Stiles’ hips, anchoring him as Derek thrusts inside and draws
a gasping moan out of Stiles.
“Fuck. Fuck yes, c’mon, fuck me.” Stiles babbles as Derek does just that,
setting a quick, brutal pace until Stiles is practically sobbing with it.
Stiles scrabbles at the sheets, barely aware of the hitching moans falling from
his lips. All he can focus on is Derek’s cock and the bruising grip he’s got on
Stiles’ hips, the near growling noises that sound like they’re being wrenched
from Derek’s throat. And then, then he feels it, like something’s expanding and
Derek’s thrusts are getting ragged and fuck, Stiles knows what that means and
he wants it.
“That’s it, that’s it. C’mon, knot me, c’mon, fuck, do it, c’mon, please please
please please.” He begs and Derek gives him exactly what he asks for, grinding
into Stiles as his knot expands. Derek’s teeth bite into the side of Stiles’
neck hard enough to bruise and Stiles keens, coming just like that in messy
pulses.
Stiles goes lax, drooping until his face is pressed into the mattress. He’s
pretty sure the only things holding him up are Derek’s hands and dick, but he
doesn’t even care. He feels well fucked and boneless, and most importantly, his
head feels clearer than it has since this all started somewhere on the freeway.
He knows that feeling won’t last though, that it’s only the beginning of his
heat.
Derek oh so gently rearranges them, tugging and pushing at Stiles until they’re
curled up on their sides. Derek’s arms are tucked firmly around Stiles, his
face pressed tightly into the back of Stiles’ head and his nose presses into
Stiles’ head a bit awkwardly which isn’t the most comfortable thing in the
world but Stiles can’t even find it in himself to complain.
“Attack of the cuddle wolf.” Stiles mumbles and pats at Derek’s forearm.
“Y’know, I get what you were doing with the position cause this is way more
comfortable than how we would have had to be if we’d done it face to face, but
the not being able to kiss you easily part is lame.”
“Shhhhh.” Derek insists. “Nap time.”
“Not tired.” It’s a boldfaced lie, punctuated by the fact that Stiles yawns
immediately after his words. Rationally, he knows he needs to take the chance
to rest, he’s read the books on how heats work, has seen the health class
videos, and knows that it’s only going to get worse from here on out. Moments
of lucidity will end up few and far between by the time the first day is over
though and he has the gut urge to embrace this moment while he has it. “Talk
with me instead?” Stiles asks, softer, and a bit more pleading than he wants.
“Yeah, okay, we’ll talk.” Derek says and tightens his arms around Stiles.
So they do, they talk until Stiles starts to lose it again. Until he starts to
ache with the want and talking is lost for awhile again.
————————
When Stiles wakes for the first time after his heat has passed it’s to Derek
climbing back into the bed carrying a tray laden with food. Stiles’ stomach
takes the opportunity to growl loudly and embarrassingly. Stiles ignores any
embarrassment and makes grabby hands at the food. Embarrassment should not be a
thing after the past 3 days of his life. He should officially be cured of any
such feeling.
“Oh my god, you’re the best ever.” He says when Derek sets the tray between
them and Stiles can grab a bagel smothered in a mountain of cream cheese.
“Seriously, best alpha. Like one of the ones in those cheesy alpha omega
romance movies. Wait, did you get the idea from one of those? I bet you did. I
bet you totally studied the movies in preparation for this. I bet it wasn’t
even preparation. I bet you just like them. You’re totally the type to like
alpha omega romances. I bet your netflix is filled with them. I bet you watch A
Walk To Remember and cry like a baby when the omega chick dies at the end. It’s
okay, I do too.” Stiles pats Derek’s shoulder consolingly with one hand and
uses the other to shove the bagel into his mouth.
Derek stares at Stiles like he’s utterly ridiculous or some sort of scientific
question that needs to be answered. Then, slowly, his lips curve upwards and
his eyes crinkle in what looks like a relieved smile. “I’m really glad you’re
you again.” He says, so sincerely that Stiles practically melts.
“Yeah, me too to be honest.” Not that he didn’t enjoy the whole Heat
Experience™, because hey, the sex had been seriously great. He just really
liked having all his wits about him and not being driven practically crazy with
lust. At least, not any more than any young adult is generally driven crazy
with lust on any given day. Plus it’s definitely nice to know the alpha he’s
dating prefers the full 110% Stiles experience to the heat crazed omega one.
Not that Stiles thinks there’s been a day in Derek’s life where anyone could
think he’d be one of those knothead alphas who thinks omegas should be
practically tied to a bed begging for alpha dick, but still, it’s nice to be
reassured.
“You should drink some water. Rehydrate.” Derek says after a moment of silence,
holding out a bottle of water.
“Yeah, I bet I lost a lot of fluids.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows and leers
dramatically and Derek groans like he’s truly suffering.
———————————
Derek being away at college is weirdly harder than Stiles had expected. He’d
expected to miss the dude, of course, because Derek is his boyfriend and the
taker of his virginity and all of that stuff, but he hadn’t expected it to suck
this bad.
He really hadn’t expected to curl up in bed with the phone pressed to his ear,
listening to Derek talk about his classes and his roommates and feel like he’s
got a fucking hole in his heart.
“I’m acting like one of those stereotypical omegas. Like I should be in a
Taylor Swift song. Early T Swizzle, not newer. More You Belong With Me, less
Bad Blood. Tell me to stop.”
“Okay, but if I tell you to stop, and you listen, does that make you even more
of one?” Derek asks, and he sounds amused, theasshole.
“Jerk.” Stiles mumbles, but he’s smiling a little despite himself.
“Y’know, even if you were acting like a stereotypical omega, whatever the hell
that means, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?” Derek asks, going serious.
“I kinda like that you miss me enough to mope.” He adds, voice soft like he’s
admitting something he shouldn’t be. It makes Stiles smile, making his heart
twist in weird ways.
“Hey, you still like me right?” Stiles asks, not because he doubts it, but
because he wants to hear it.
“Yeah, Stiles, I still like you.” Derek says, sounding fond and Stiles’s smile
just gets even bigger.
"Good, cause I still like you too.”
End Notes
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