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triskhellion · 1 year ago

Text

CLAIM!

Rated: Explicit (11.9k)

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Ethan Steiner, background Cora Hale, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, mentioned Aiden Steiner, Scott McCall

Tags: POV Derek, POV Stiles, Alpha Derek, Human Stiles, Angst & Fluff & Smut, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire/Modern Setting, Strangers to Lovers, Hurt Feelings, Pining, Dad Advice, Making Up, Getting Together, Various Explicit Sex Acts, Top Derek/Bottom Stiles, Hickeys, Come Eating, Knotting.

Summary: Derek calls "Claim" on Stiles at Jungle when Cora and Ethan show interest too. They leave together and have good time, but the next morning various packmates barge in and Ethan, not realizing that Stiles is still there, implies that he was a just a conquest in their game. Hurt feelings, making up, and smut.

Mead Moons prompts: Claiming, Herbs, Hot, & Midsummer Night's Dream @sterek-and-stuff-events

Sterek Weekly prompt: Video (also Claim.) @sterekweekly

Derek:

It started when the three Hale siblings and Isaac all had to share the same bathroom when the family temporarily moved into a guest bungalow while the Pack House was being remolded.

Their parents had the master bedroom and ensuite all to themselves. “Alpha Privilege” they said, smirking and shutting the door in their faces that first morning to get up to god knows what. Laura and Cora shared the modest second bedroom and Derek and Isaac the even smaller third one.

Every morning became a battle to see who got to shower first or at all. Isaac, the often quiet, but sardonic 14 year old they took in from an abusive father a couple years before, eventually just switched to evenings like a reasonable person, but the others refused. 19 year old Laura, 16 year old Derek, and 12 year old Cora instead came up with an elaborate system of dibs that involved yelling “Claim.”

Whoever yelled it first while in sight of the bathroom (not being able to “Claim” while still in bed or eating breakfast, etc, had been Rule #2) got to take the first shower even if someone else had been closer to the door. If you didn’t say it, it didn’t count. Too bad, so sad.

This continued on after they moved back to the larger property months later and was also extended to all manner of things: the corner pieces of brownies, riding shotgun, taking out the garbage instead of a more involved chore, the movie they were watching that night, etc. It became a constant refrain.

Isaac joined in and then Boyd and Erica when they were brought into the pack a couple years later, spreading to visiting friends as well. Even their parents got in on it.

Seven years of triumph, thwartation, and teasing later, the now 23 year old Derek was heading for a night out of clubbing with Erica, Cora, and the newest members of his mother’s pack, brothers Aiden & Ethan. First stop: Jungle.

The place was bustling when they arrived just before 11:00 on a Friday night, full of people letting off steam after what was, for most of them, the end of the work or school week.

That was the case for the twins, who were juniors at BHU, and Derek, who worked weekdays at an auto shop a couple towns over. Cora was a server at an Italian restaurant, but they closed at 9:00, so she had time to go home and get ready after her end-of-night duties. Erica’s LPN shift didn’t start until mid-afternoon tomorrow so she was also down to party into the wee hours.

The music was loud and various light displays shifted between colors and patterns. Aidan went straight for the bar, but the rest of them were checking out the packed dance floor and the winding, rolling, thrashing bodies working up a sweat, their attention soon drawn to a particularly ecstatic whirler who had carved out a space just for himself and seemed to be having the time of his life.

The dancer looked to be a couple years younger than Derek, dark hair short on the sides and longer on top, a few tendrils of which clung damply to his forehead begging to be brushed back. He was wearing tight black pants and a shimmery black shirt on his leanly muscled frame. There was gloss on his lips and makeup around what he thought were dark eyes, but couldn’t be sure with the currently orange lighting.

Derek thought he was beautiful, so alive and full of joy, even though he appeared to be here alone. And the way he gyrated those hips. Unfgh. He had to have him.

He saw Ethan making a beeline for him and when he turned to his sister she was eyeing him as well with a considering look on her face. Oh hell no. (Erica was enjoying the view as well, but she had Boyd at home so he didn’t have to worry about her.) Before Ethan could reach him and just as Cora opened her mouth Derek let out the mother of all “claims” in a truly stentorian roar.

“CLAAAAAIIIIMMMM!!!”

Cora huffed and rolled her eyes and Ethan halted, glaring back at him and clearly pissed that he’d forgotten about “that stupid game.” Derek was grinning like a Cheshire cat when the dancer looked over at him. Now to introduce himself.

Stiles:

Stiles had been lost in the music — eyes closed and just existing in his body, in the present — and enjoying a much needed break from his hamster wheel brain when there was a super loud shout, though he couldn’t make out what was said. When he opened his eyes and turned toward the source of the noise there was a small group of people looking in his direction. A 20-something guy with spiky dark hair and epic stubble flanked by two younger women, a brunette and a blonde.

All were attractive, but the man was on a whole other level. Wowzers. He wore dark chinos and a darker fitted shirt — possibly green — that showed off his muscular chest, upper arms, and other assets. On that note Stiles was dying to see the view from the back. The man smiled at him and he blushed, smiling back.

The three were then approached by a clean shaven, brown-haired man walking from his area of the dance floor and he looked away, embarrassed. They must’ve looking at and calling for him.

Stiles returned to his dancing, trying to get back in the zone, but failing. He glanced back to where the group was still standing, but while the other guy had seemingly multiplied Hottie Prime had vanished. He sighed, feeling disappointed.

I don’t why, it’s not like he would’ve been interested in you anyway the critical little voice in his head said. Yeah, but at least I could’ve gotten to look a bit more.

Ah well. When Stiles turned to face the bar again the man was standing right there in front of him.

“Eeyah!” he blurted, jumping. Of course it was during a break in the song when the volume was low enough that his weird little cry could be heard.

“Hi, there,” the gorgeous stranger said wearing a wolfish grin.

Stiles could see that his eyes were light, but couldn’t make out which color in the blue light. He swallowed and licked his dry lips.

“Um, hey,” he replied with an awkward wave. The music picked up again.

“Do you mind if I dance with you?” the man shouted.

Stiles shook his head, paused, nodded, and then realized that both were kind of ambiguous so finally just started to move again while grinning at him and hoping that got the message across. The amused man leaned in, warm breath ghosting against his ear.

“I’m Derek!”

“Stiles!”

“Stiles?”

“Yeah.”

He saw Derek nod and repeat it to himself, which was adorable.

After a couple of songs of orbiting around each other and mimicking each others moves, Derek stepped in closer and very lightly placed his hands on his hips, watching his face for a reaction. He blushed, nodding, and Derek’s grasp tightened, making a jolt of arousal course through him. The now red lighting momentarily reflected in the other man’s eyes making for a really cool effect as they moved together.

When the music speed up even more Stiles turned around and they danced pressed back to chest, hips first swaying side to side and then forward and back and all around together in time to the beat. Derek was plastered to him — hot and smelling of something spicy, bright, and woodsy — and Stiles could feel as he grew hard against his ass. He shivered, barely holding back a moan. Strong arms wrapped around him and lips brushed against his ear.

“You wanna get out of here?”

Derek:

Stiles told him he’d taken a rideshare to the club in case he had more than a couple drinks for the night so he got into Derek’s car after having him swear he wasn’t a serial killer. He’d also texted someone a picture of his driver’s license and license plate “just in case.” Derek was amused by his apologetic face, but also saddened at the precautions the younger man felt he had to take. It could be a dangerous world.

He didn’t live far from the club, but the tension in the Camaro made it seem longer. Stiles smelled aroused, but also nervous. Derek put a hand on his bouncing left knee.

“We don’t have to do anything, Stiles. I’ll be down for however far you want to go, but we can also just hang out or you can change your mind at any time, okay?” His passenger let out a breath and smiled, saying “Okay.” The atmosphere became much more relaxed.

Derek showed him around the loft and they talked about this and that for a while. Stiles mixed orange juice, Sprite, and strawberry Fanta together when he offered him a choice of water, juice or soda, practically daring him to comment. He held his tongue, but let his eyebrows do the judging. Then he made some tea for himself (Stiles actually awwed) and they joked around, flirting. They watched an episode of some new cooking competition show he’d never heard of, but that came highly recommended by his guest. Near the end of the first episode he felt Stiles watching him.

He turned toward the younger man who’d been looking at his lips and then met his gaze before focusing back on his lips again. Derek leaned in for a kiss and then another, the both of them progressively going longer and deeper. When Stiles came up for air he tried to take a sip of his half full drink, but managed to spill most of it on his shirt. Derek couldn’t help chuckling, but quickly got up to get him one of his sleep shirts to put on after kissing the embarrassed youth on the forehead.

Then he sat back on the couch and pulled a meeping and once again interested Stiles into his lap, looking into his pretty brown eyes.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

They resumed their making out and Stiles moved to straddle him, grinding down against him. Derek slid his hands under the shirt, his shirt, and stroked his sides. His sized up light gray tee hung even more loosely on the smaller man — who was only a couple inches shorter, but slender — and he pulled at the collar to get at his neck. The scent of Stiles’ arousal mixed with him wearing Derek’s clothes was doing things to him.

He lifted his head for another kiss and then leaned back to pull up the front of the shirt to look at Stiles’ belly and chest. Comfortable in his den and focusing on watching his right hand feel that warm, smooth skin — making those abdominal muscles twitch — and inhaling them had him involuntarily making little growling noises. His eyes even briefly flashed red without him noticing.

When Stiles froze and gasped, heart racing and smelling of surprise, he let go of the bunched up fabric and withdrew both hands.

“What’s—“

“You’re a wolf!” the staring human exclaimed.

“Uh, what? You—what…?”

Derek carefully set Stiles to the side and got up, his own heart pounding rapidly, and began to pace. What had he done? Did he actually beta-shift without realizing or something?

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stiles assured, scrambling to his feet, but still giving Derek space. ”My best friend is a wolf, so I just recognized the growly-growls and the, um, Alpha eyes.”

Derek’s head shot up. So the other man knew knew about werewolves then. He exhaled slowly. Well, at least he hadn’t lost as much control as he’d thought. His best friend, huh? Must be that kid who Mom met some years ago that ended up becoming a True Alpha somehow. Steve or something.

“Seriously dude, don’t worry. I’m totally cool with the wolfiness.”

Derek hazarded a glance at Stiles’ face. There was no fear or disgust in his eyes or in his scent. No lie in his heart beat. If anything he seemed curious and even more aroused. Heh. Derek grinned, thankful for the lucky break — he’d freak out about how sideways this could’ve gone later — and moved back toward the couch.

“Don’t call me ‘dude,’” he admonished mock-sternly as he sat down. Stiles climbed back into his lap.

“Okay, Alpha.”

Stiles:

Well that definitely had the desired effect. No longer attempting to hold back his wolfishness, Derek dove into his neck, licking and nipping and full on growling while squeezing his ass and rutting up against him. A minute later he was being picked up and yelped, wrapping his limbs around the werewolf who pressed a smile into his skin. God, Stiles loved how strong Derek was. He was set down in the Alpha’s bed and those hungry eyes had gone from their usual green-hazel — he’d finally gotten a good look in the kitchen — to red again.

“What do you want, Stiles?”

Everything, honestly. But was he said was “Your mouth up here…and your hands and body against mine.”

“I can do that,” came the reply, voice full of seductive promise.

And then he was pounced upon, lips seized in another kiss before his borrowed shirt was pushed up again, a hot tongue finding first one nipple and then the other. Derek licked down his chest and belly before kneeling back to peel off Stiles’ pants and then getting up to remove his own as well as his shirt. Wearing only their underwear below — him in red hip briefs and Derek in black boxer briefs — he opened his legs for the wolf to crawl between and press their lengths together, thrusting and grinding with only thin fabric between them. Derek resumed plundering his mouth and swallowing his moans.

Then the Alpha leaned off to the side and rutted against his right thigh, dragging down Stiles’ underwear enough to free his leaking cock. A large, callused hand wrapped around him after being licked wet and Stiles fucked into it as it stroked him. When he was getting close Derek straddled that same thigh and had him suck two fingers before sliding them under the red fabric, up his backside and into his cleft. The fingers alternately rubbed over and circled his hole, not quite dipping inside, until a minute later he was writhing and tensing and crying out.

Derek watched him cum onto his belly and chest, eyes glowing steadily as he continued to work Stiles through his orgasm. After he was spent the wolf collected most of it and used it to slick himself up. Stiles’ stared wide-eyed and hungrily when he pulled his cock out, absentmindedly licking his lips at the impressive sight. It didn’t take long for Derek to come too, stripping himself while looking down at him, all messy and languid and smiling.

With a growl Derek shot his seed onto him, first onto his flaccid cock — making him gasp — and then from his lower belly up to his chest. Stiles closed his eyes and bit back a whimper as the Alpha’s warm hand rubbed their releases together and into his skin before tugging the shirt back down and patting his stomach twice.

Afterward he lay there with Derek, happy and sated, as the wolf laid beside with an arm casually across his torso. About 15 minutes later he started to get antsy though, figuring that he should leave. Stiles wanted to stay right where he was and the wolf had made no signs of wanting him out — no exaggerated yawns or bringing up an early appointment or straight up looking at him and then staring at the door like one girl did freshman year maybe 3 minutes after. But that’s how this worked, right? Was what he was supposed to do. And then maybe if he was lucky the person would want to exchange numbers on his way out.

That had happened twice before. A classmate named Kat that he hooked up with a second time last fall and a sweet guy, Geoff, that he even dated for several weeks sophomore year before he transferred to Georgia. Or was it Alabama? Somewhere in the southeast.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, getting up to locate where Derek had thrown his pants. If he wanted that chance, however slim, of seeing the Alpha again he needed to not be clingy and annoying. A-ha, there they are. Way across the room in a corner.

“You don’t have to go, Stiles. If you don’t want to.”

He froze. Oh right, werewolf. He can probably sense how pathetic I’m being. He’s probably just being nice. Stiles turned around to make up some excuse and then realized Derek would also be able to sense that. Fuck.

“I mean it. I’d like it if you stayed,” the Alpha said, sitting up and leaning forward. “Snuggling with a cute guy, maybe getting another taste before or after breakfast…” He wagged his brows. “Sounds like a great plan to me.”

Stiles broke into a wide smile and Derek mimed circling and throwing a lasso around him, “pulling” him back to the bed. He giggled and went along, leaning over to give him a kiss.

“Give me a minute.”

He hurried back into the living area and grabbed his phone, sending a text to his father that he was staying out.

Stiles had considered moving into the dorms or into his own apartment like most of his classmates, but his father chilled out a bunch once he graduated high school and it made a lot more financial sense to stay home. He also hadn’t liked the idea of his dad living alone if he didn’t need to despite the elder Stilinski’s protestations that he’d be fine. Plus this way he could still harass encourage him to still eat healthy most of the time.

It did occasionally get awkward though. He didn’t hook up that often and when he did it was usually earlier in the night, only obviously being somewhere after the clubs actually closed a couple times. (It was Lydia he texted with the info of the people he’d gone home with, not his dad.) All of his close friends were either in SoCal or out of state currently so it wasn’t like he could claim to be with one of them right now.

His dad had never given him any shit for it, (all of his “sextures,” as Stiles called them, took place between 7th grade and his junior year of high school,) but the knowing look was enough. He was actually staying over this time — holy crap — so there was no getting around it. Totally worth it though.

When he got back to the room Derek smiled and patted the mattress beside him. Stiles climbed in and cuddled up to the wolf, falling asleep much faster than he would’ve expected as thick fingers carded through his hair.

Stiles woke a bit after 10:00 the next morning to the smell of frying bacon and yawned, happily remembering the night before. He relieved himself and then decided to take a quick shower after finding a couple of towels and washcloths folded and waiting for him. His now clean shirt was there too and a new toothbrush. Stiles swooned. How thoughtful.

There was also a pair of Derek’s boxer briefs for him to keep forever borrow if he wanted. He shushed his dick when it began to stir. Shower, then food, then hopefully more fooling around.

Stiles was just finishing up, greedily inhaling the scent of Derek’s body wash hanging in the humid air — the bergamot and oak that he first noticed at Jungle and was now clinging to his own skin — as he heard the wolf moving around in the bedroom. He was taking a last look in the mirror to make sure he didn’t have toothpaste on his face or hair sticking up all weird when there was a commotion downstairs. The sound of laughing and crosstalk and a door slamming before one guy’s voice in particular called out loudly.

“Hey Derek, how was that sweet piece of ass last night? I can’t believe you beat me to him with your fucking ‘Dibs’—“

“‘Claim,’” corrected multiple voices.

“‘Claim’, whatever. I should’ve just igno—“

“Shut the fuck up,” Derek hissed.

He held onto the counter as the sound of footsteps retreated, looking at the now pained expression in his reflection. Oh. Of course. It had been some kind of competition. And then Derek had wanted him to stay in order to show proof of his conquest, but probably hadn’t expected his friends to be so blatant about it.

Stiles didn’t know what to do. Remaining in here all day wasn’t an option, but he also really didn’t want to go out there. To be seen. Especially upset as he was.

Maybe they’d get bored and leave soon and then he could go too. He put the toilet seat down and sat on it, drawing up his knees and hugging them. His eyes stung, but Stiles took a deep breath and tried to will his thoughts elsewhere. He’d be damned if he was going to cry. Not here anyway.

Derek:

He groaned in annoyance when most of the gang came crashing in. The group from last night minus Aiden (who was likely still sleeping off the drinks he’d no doubt spiked with spotted wolfsbane) and plus Boyd and Isaac. Derek had been looking forward to a nice breakfast with his new companion and then hopefully finding out what that mouth could do. Afterward, assuming Stiles didn’t have somewhere else to be, he wanted to spend the rest of the day getting to know the funny, sexy-adorable, clever, wolf-friendly human. Grr.

Then he realized what Ethan was yelling about. Fuck.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, running toward and then down the stairs. He had really hoped that Stiles hadn’t heard the insensitive wolf, but if the elevated heart rate now coming from the bathroom was any indication he definitely had. Shit.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spat in a barely audible whisper. “You couldn’t hear that he’s still here?” Ethan shrugged.

“I wasn’t really paying attention and assumed he’d be long gone by now.”

“Well, he’s not. Because I like him and asked him to stay. And he heard you. So can you please go the fuck away?” He turned to look at the other sheepish younger wolves. “That goes for the rest of you too.”

Derek saw them out and was the one to slam the door this time. He took a deep breath and steeled himself before climbing slowly up the stairs. After a brief pause he rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door.

“Hey, are you okay?” He heard a derisive snort and cringed. “Can I talk to you…please?” There was movement inside and then the door flew open. The scents of hurt and bitter resentment, of anger and salt, came wafting out with the toiletries.

“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Stiles said, turning sideways to slide past him without touching him. Derek whined internally. There were no tear tracks on his face, but his pretty brown eyes had an extra sheen to them.

“I’m sorry, Stiles. I—It wasn’t like that,” he started, watching the young man collect his phone before heading down to get his house keys and put on his socks and shoes. “The whole ‘claim’ business was for the opportunity to approach you first, not to make being with you a…a game or something. It wasn’t. Not to me.”

Stiles turned toward him, frowning and mistrustful. He kept going.

“I didn’t know they were going to barge in here. I was hoping to spend the day with you. Not only fooling around, but maybe watching more of that show you like — it was pretty entertaining — or going for a walk. Grabbing some lunch. Stuff like that.”

The human only looked at him, searching his face and saying nothing.

Derek felt desperate, like he was about to lose something special right as it started. Just as it could’ve, should’veblossomed into more. Nipped in the bud instead.

Stiles:

He wanted to believe Derek, he really did. Wanted it with every fiber of his being to be told “Psych, I actually do really like you and want to spend more time with you.” But he was hurt and uncertain and just wanted to go home. And even if Derek had meant it like how he said, he still wasn’t keen on the idea of being involved in a competition between the two men. Who did that? Stiles sighed and headed for the door.

“You could call your friend, the wolf, and I—I could prove it,” Derek called after him in a shaky voice. “He would know that I was telling the truth.”

Stiles paused and sighed again, turning and walking up to the hangdog looking Alpha. He kissed his cheek and murmured “Thanks for last night. It…was very nice.”

Then he left.

That Monday the dark-haired young woman he saw at the club — who introduced herself as Cora, Derek’s sister — came up to him when they crossed paths at the school library. The hesitant freshman apologized for her part in the the whole situation and reiterated that her brother was truly sorry and that he would love to see him whenever if Stiles ever forgave him. She took off quickly once he acknowledged that he heard her, but he didn’t respond one way or the other.

The following day he was still moping on the couch at home, set off again when he tried to watch his favorite cooking show that evening and couldn’t help thinking of Derek. How amazing that night had been and then how things had ended the next morning with him feeling less than. Was he being too harsh? Not harsh enough by not telling Cora to tell Derek to fuck off?

His father came home from his day shift and raised an eyebrow at his broody state. An hour or so later just after dinner he asked what was troubling him and Stiles gave him the gist of it after some hemming and hawing. A sheepish expression came over the his face and Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“Well, you know…actually, you definitely don’t know this…but me and your mom? My friend Michael actually noticed her first at the veteran’s shindig, but I challenged him to an arm wrestling match to ask her out instead. Best of three. Mike was a bit…tipsy and overconfident and I won all three rounds. So I got to try my luck and well the rest — he spread his arms with a grin now on his face — is history.”

Stiles sat there with his mouth hanging open. Apparently the answer to “Who did that?” was his dear old Dad. His own father had basically called dibs on his mother.

“You should close that before you swallow a fly,” his father teased. “A little friendly competition is not uncommon. And it’s true that it can get out of hand, become a callous, hurtful thing, but it doesn’t have to be. You’ve never had to deal with this issue before because by the time you and Scott actually had a chance in hell at dating — I love you son, but it’s true — the two of you had very different types. He likes to chase after dark-eyed brunettes and you seem to lean mostly toward athletic or hunky guys—“

“Never say that again,” Stiles said half-heartedly.

“But when you are interested in women it’s generally a blonde…or redhead.”

His dad gave him an amused look, clearly remembering his Lydia phase before they actually became friends. Stiles rolled his eyes. Huh. He wasn’t wrong though. And now that he thought of it, every time he’d been open to meeting someone while going out with friends they’d either been straight or in a relationship or had different types. Danny pretty much swung between super beefy muscle bros that probably lived in a gym and the twinkiest of twinks depending on what he was in the mood for.

Stiles was most attracted to guys like, well, Derek. Or at least his own size. He liked it when someone could move him around, but without giving young Ah-nold (or hell, old Ah-nold) a run for his money. Sue him. What would he have done if Scott was there, was bi or gay, and they’d both been into Derek at the club?

Well, absolutely nothing probably, but in theory? Hmm…

“Let me ask you a few questions, kiddo” his dad said, interrupting his thought experiment. “Did he treat you right?”

Stiles nodded and then blushed. Oh, Derek had treated him well alright. His father rolled his eyes.

“That’s…not what I meant — and say no more — but I won’t pretend that that doesn’t matter too. Ahem.” Stiles ducked his head, grinning.

“Yeah. He assured me that anything that happened was up to me and he washed my shirt that I spilled OSS on—“

“You and your damn concoctions. Which one is that again?”

“Orange juice, Sprite, and strawberry soda…anyway. Yeah. He was…thoughtful and sweet.”

“Hmm. And did he—what was his name again?”

“I didn’t say, but it’s Derek.”

“Did Derek show interest in you? Your thoughts and interests and feelings?”

Stiles sighed.

“Yeah, he did…”

“And finally, did he…like you? Get all smiley? At least hint at wanting to see you again?” Stiles lowered his head onto the table, lightly thunking it a few times.

“Yersh,” he said, leaving his face mashed against the wood. The elder Stilinski waited until he rested his chin on his arms and met twinkling blue eyes.

“Well, if you want your old man’s advice…” Stiles rolled his eyes. As if his father hadn’t been coaxing him to a certain conclusion this whole conversation.

“Sure,” he replied, nodding and shrugging a shoulder. Might as well humor him. His dad grew more serious.

“Your feelings are valid and if it’s truly a dealbreaker for you, so be it. But, if you really like this guy — and it sounds like you do — consider giving him another chance. Not just for his sake, but for your own as well.”

And with that his father got up, patted him on the shoulder and kissed his head, and then wandered into the living room, probably to turn on the tv and catch the rest of whatever game was on.

Stiles thunked his head a few more times. Goddammit. It sounded so reasonable when you put it like that. He stayed there for a while, trying to think things through.

Oh shut up. You know you’d rather be with Derek than be mad. It’s a matter of pride, sure, but you can always have him beg some. Preferably in bed. And you can still be mad at that other dude, who was the one that actually called you a piece of ass.

He grinned mischievously.

Derek:

It’d been an altogether uneventful Wednesday — no screaming customers or tricky repairs or shipping delays for parts — but Derek wanted nothing more than to just go home. Well, there was something, or rather someone, he wanted more, but that wasn’t in the cards. The work had been a helpful distraction the last few days, but in between fixing or maintaining vehicles and checking inventory and whatever else needed doing, his thoughts returned to Saturday and Stiles again and again. Especially today when he finished the last car in the queue a good hour before close.

Finally 6pm came and he was ready to go just 5 minutes after having done the usual post-close tasks already. Derek called out a goodbye to Terrance and Miguel, got in his car, and peeled out of there.

He decided to stop at Rosario’s on his way out of Selva because why not stuff his face while wallowing in his misery? At least his pain was supporting the tiny family owned donut shop. Maybe he’d even put on that cooking show when he got home too. Make it really hurt.

Then he’d check his phone for anything actually important, ignore the pups wanting to hang out some more (especially a certain precipitating beta that dared to say he shouldn’t be so upset about a one night stand as if he wasn’t upset precisely because he hadn’t wanted it to be a one night stand. Or to hurt him.) On second thought, he‘d text Ethan a series of middle fingers for that.

Maybe try to make himself go for a night run before coming back home, taking a shower (he’d finally switched to nights after working a job that got him dirty) and eating a pint of ice cream and going to bed. What a plan. Rinse and repeat the next day, except perhaps he’d get some pie or french toast with maple syrup, strawberries and whipped cream instead. He let his sweet tooth run wild when he was down in the dumps.

But when he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building around a quarter to 7:00 there was a beat up, old blue Jeep in a guest spot that he’d never seen before and an unexpected visitor waiting by the door to the lobby.

“Stiles?!” he blurted, surprised and cautiously hopeful. Also a bit afraid. It seemed unlikely, but maybe he was going to get chewed out some more. The tired looking human stood up from where he’d been perched on a large rectangular concrete planter.

“Sorry for just showing up, but I don’t have your number or anything and your sister said you still wanted to see me.”

He wanted to simultaneously kiss and strangle Cora.

“Yeah, I did. I do. I hope she hasn’t been bothering you—“

“Nah, she just spoke to me the one time a couple days ago when she saw me at BHU. Said her piece and left.” Derek nodded.

“Did you want to come in…?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Derek tried to discreetly suss out his emotional state as they want through the door and walked down the hall to the elevator closer together, but he saw Stiles smirk so he probably wasn’t as subtle with the sniffing as he thought. He smelled…Derek wasn’t quite sure actually. There were lots of shifting scents. But he wasn’t acutely upset, which seemed like a good sign.

When they reached the loft he went to the fridge and mixed a can each of strawberry Fanta and Sprite and a cup of orange juice together, dividing it into two glasses. He’d first tried the unusual combination when he’d been pining on Sunday. It wasn’t bad at all, though he wasn’t sure if he’d gotten the ratio right.

Stiles smiled and raised an eyebrow and Derek blushed. After taking a couple sips the younger man took a deep breath and started talking, tracing circles on the table with his pointer fingers.

“So I probably overreacted on Saturday…”

Derek was about to contradict him, but he put one of those fingers to his own lips and then to Derek’s. He almost whined at the touch.

“Shhh, let me finish. I’m not saying I was wrong to be upset at all, but I made some leaps myself. Assumptions that probably were’t true. Like how I thought you had the others come over to show off your conquest.”

He shook his head in negation. Oh Stiles.

“I have my own issues around…actually being liked or wanted,” the human grimaced. “And that just really didn’t help.”

Derek actually did whine then. He hated the idea of Stiles feeling that way at all, much less because of him and his packmates.

“But I talked with my dad and he gave me some advice — you so owe that man a BBQ platter or something, by the way — and he made me realize that whatever stuff you had going on with your friends, that you never treated me like I was just a…prize or a notch in your belt. You were kind and considerate and fun and so fucking sexy and I like you, goddamnit. So yeah. If you wanna give this thing another try…”

Stiles shrugged a shoulder casually, but Derek could make out his anxious scent and racing heart. A huge grin came over his face as his chest thrummed with elation. Oh he was definitely going to thank Stiles’ dad profusely if…whenthey eventually met.

“Yes,” he replied, actually a bit choked up, before clearing his throat and trying again. “Yes, Stiles. Of course. I like you so much. And once again, I’m sorry.”

“Cool,” Stiles said, leaning in for a kiss.

Derek did indeed watch more of that cooking show, but unlike what he imagined a couple hours before he had Stiles with him commenting on everything. He shared his box of donuts mentioning that he had planned to eat them all while missing him and continuing to lament losing his chance.

“Aww, Derek,” Stiles cooed before snuggling up to him and then mockingly “Claim”-ing over half of the assorted pastries, saving two for his father in thanks. When the human left to go home a few hours later it was with Derek’s number in his phone. A couple minutes later he heard what must’ve been that blue monstrosity struggle to life — he cringed and swore then and there to get Stiles to let him tune it up — and his phone chimed a couple times.

The first message was a close-up picture of Stiles behind the wheel from mid-nose down to his upper chest, head titled up and to the side to show off his bared throat with his collar pulled down and a mischievous smirk. Swallowing, he scrolled down and there was also a video of the same, only capturing the movement of it and with Stiles whispering his name. Derek groaned and felt like that “awooga” wolf from the old cartoons, eyes widened and salivating as blood went rushing south.

Then there was another short video with his full face this time, blowing him a kiss and then smiling widely with laughing eyes. It was followed by a few snapshots of him doing so. Derek grinned and saved them to his gallery and the phone number to his contacts under “Favorite Human.”

He picked Stiles up on Friday evening for a 7:15 reservation at the restaurant where Cora worked, everything on the house. They shared tagliatelle alla carbonara, pappardelle with short rib ragu and polenta with taleggio and mushrooms for dinner and a piece of tiramisu and two cannolis — one with chopped pistachios and the other with chocolate chips — for dessert. He hugged his sister, thanking her for the delicious meal and again for letting Stiles know he’d still wanted to hear from him. She grinned and said he owed her and that she intended to cash in a big favor sometime.

His happily stuffed date suggested they catch the local theater’s final showing of the latest explosionpalooza and then stayed over afterward, changing into one of Derek’s shirts and snuggling up to him and giving his ass a squeeze before promptly falling asleep. Derek nuzzled his shoulder and then drank in the sight of him until he started drifting off as well.

He woke when Stiles’ alarm went off and then grumbled and pouted as he watched him get up to leave early in the morning. Apparently, there were some serious home projects going on at the Stilinski residence that day and he also needed to catch up on his studying and coursework after, but he told Derek that he’d be free tomorrow. Stiles smacked a kiss on his head, said “see ya later, sourwolf” and danced away laughing before Derek’s groggy, uncoordinated self could grab him.

He came back over to the loft on Sunday for a triple feature and Derek couldn’t wait to show him some of his favorite ambitious and visually interesting films: The Fall (2006,) Cloud Atlas, and Across the Universe. In between the second and third movie Derek also got down on his knees to show the surprised, but excited younger man what his mouth could do.

When Stiles looked down at him with a half-lidded gaze, scent going warm and musky-sweet as he spread his legs Derek nearly whined in anticipation. Then the human gently held his chin and he stilled the hands that were reaching to undo another pair of those snug black pants. He glanced up again.

“I want to hear how much you want it,” Stiles said with an authoritative voice, but a telltale rosiness on his cheeks.

Derek was amused and charmed and so very turned on. So the blushing boy wanted him to grovel a bit, hmm? Not only was he not above begging, but he found he liked the idea of a little role reversal for once. The Alpha at the mercy of a human.

“Please, Stiles. Let me suck your cock,” he said, running his hands teasingly up and down his thighs and looking him right in the eye. “I want to taste you so much, want to satisfy you and make you cum. Please, baby. Please.”

“Well, alright then,” Stiles said, trying to be nonchalant, but only getting more flustered.

Seconds later Derek had his hard cock in his mouth and the taste of precum on his tongue. Both of them moaned. A hand burrowed into his hair and he began to suck in earnest, his own erection straining and leaking inside his pants. After a couple of minutes he tugged Stiles’ pants and underwear down further to mid-thigh so he could have an easier time fondling his balls, making him groan louder and jerk his hips.

When that movement caused Stiles’ cock to touch the back of his throat he gagged a bit, but then growled in pleasure. The human started to apologize, but Derek popped off and said “It’s fine.” He then snaked his arms under Stiles’ knees and gripped his ass to fuck his own face with him. Stiles’ head fell back against the couch as he whispered “Oh. My. God.”

Derek grinned as he pulled back to suckle and lick around the head before resuming the previous motion. That’s right, baby. Going to ruin you for anyone else. He could tell Stiles was getting close.

“If you’re good…and swallow it all…I’ll return…the favor…next time.”

Fuck. He was going to do that anyway, but now he was really going to give it his all. Derek put Stiles back down and put one hand on the base of his cock, using the other to massage his taint. He went to town with his mouth and when Stiles started tensing he looked up, red eyes locking onto whiskey brown, and instantly started receiving a warm and salty reward for his efforts. Mmm.

Swallowing as he went, Derek didn’t let up until Stiles was trembling and reached a limp arm to tap his shoulder. He drew off, licking the tip one last time, and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s back, pressing his head against the clothed chest so that the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat was all he could hear.

Stiles:

After he recovered from the most epic blowjob of his life Stiles had Derek sit back on the couch and straddled him, pants pulled back up, but left unbuttoned. He freed the wolf’s engorged and so far neglected member, spit a few times into his right hand, and began to work him with long, slow strokes. When he moaned Stiles kissed his open mouth, sucking his bottom lip before sliding his tongue inside and tasting a trace of himself.

He sped up and licked his other hand, adding it to the impressive cock as well to twist and squeeze around the base. Then he nibbled Derek’s left earlobe and whispered.

“Mmm, such a beautiful cock. Fuck my hand, Alpha. Show me what to look forward to.”

God, the way Derek looked when he drew back to see his face. All predatory intensity, hands flexing against his sides. It was a wonder that he wasn’t thrown down and fucked right there. Not that he would’ve complained. (At least as long as there was a pit stop for lube.) Instead the wolf obliged and began thrusting and making those little growly noises like that first night, which were frankly adorable in addition to being hot as fuck.

He looked down between them and imagined Derek pounding into him just like that, disappearing inside of him over and over and he moaned, spurring him on. When the movement went from fast to erratic he removed one hand and pulled up his shirt, knowing how the wolf liked to mark him that way. Derek rumbled, caressing his abdomen, and then shot ropes of cum against his skin. When he was finished Stiles let go of Derek’s cock and took his hand, both of them rubbing it into his skin together.

Still smiling at each other a few minutes later they went to wash up a bit and grab some more food and drinks before hunkering back down for the 60s-tastic Beatles’ musical. Stiles had brought over a handful of snacks and a few beverages too and when he saw that Derek had grapefruit juice this time he introduced him to “R2G2”: Ruby red grapefruit juice, guava nectar, and ginger ale.

“Add some rum or vodka and you’ve got yourself a nice little cocktail,” he informed the wolf watching him fondly.

That Wednesday evening he ended up being introduced to Derek’s three betas — Isaac, Boyd, and Erica — and also the culprit from that first morning after, Ethan. He’d been nearby and when he asked what Derek was up to he told him he was hanging out with some pack members and that Stiles could come by if he wanted to. He took several minutes to think about whether he did want to or not, finally sighing and deciding he should go ahead. He was going to have to get to know them sooner or later.

The betas were all smiles and curiosity and welcome, especially the blonde he remembered from the club. Erica. Then one of the twins he’d also seen there sauntered out of the bathroom and he immediately recognized his voice when he began to speak.

“Oh look, it’s you. Derbear here lucked out after all.” Derek growled lowly as the younger wolf approached him with his hand out. “The name’s Ethan.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow and shook it firmly. “Piece of Ass, nice to meet you.”

Erica cackled in delight as Isaac grinned widely and Boyd smirked and shook his head. Derek looked back and forth between them anxiously. The cocky beta snorted.

“Yeah, sorry about all that. What can I say, you’ve got a nice one.” Ethan replied, shrugging.

Stiles saw Derek’s eyes go red and the growling got louder. He walked over to the Alpha and stood next to him, pulling the wolf’s left arm around his back to grasp his hip and reaching his own right hand around to squeeze Derek’s ass, making him jolt and quiet, before settling on a hip too.

“It’s spoken for,” Stiles said baring his teeth in what one could only mistake as a smile from some distance. Ethan raised his hands and ducked his head.

“Alright, okay, I’ll shut up.”

“Thanks,” he snarked.

When Stiles turned to Derek he was looking at him with hunger and pride and the next thing he knew he was being swept up and taken around the corner into the partially separated kitchen as the other wolves oohed and whistled. He was set down on a counter and the Alpha dove into his neck, scenting and licking and then biting and licking all around as he clutched onto broad shoulders.

He walked back into the common area hand in hand with Derek, blushing, but with his head held high wearing what was — as he’d seen in the reflection of the window over the sink — a truly impressive array of hickeys. There was a drawled “Daaamn” from Isaac and Erica looked at Boyd as if she was challenging him to do better, temporary as it’d be. Ethan wisely said nothing, only glancing up briefly and meeting the Alpha’s eye before going back to scrolling on his phone.

Stiles stayed for a couple of hours playing card games and monopoly and taking turns putting on music — they each got 3 songs at a time — and actually having a good time. When he had to go he did his best to leave a single massive bruise on Derek’s neck and the werewolf promised he’d hold onto it until he fell asleep. Of course his dad was sitting in his recliner in the the living room when he came in, recently returned from a swing shift, and his eyebrows shot up as they exchanged “hellos” and “goodnights.”

As he headed up the stairs he heard a muttered “Was he attacked by vampires?” Stiles paused and grinned.

“A werewolf, actually.”

His father sputtered and he heard the foot rest of the recliner swing shut. He turned around on the 7th step as his father came into view.

“Wait, your Derek is Derek Hale?”

“Yep,” Stiles said, smugly. He was also very curious about how his father knew of him.

The elder Stilinski had found out about werewolves not long after Stiles did — when Scott was Bitten by some unknown wandering Alpha. He was on the night shift that first full moon a couple weeks later, but stopped home to get something or other and heard the unholy racket of an angry chained up werewolf coming from the basement. Stiles hastily informed him that the situation was under control and that the murderous looking creature was actually one floppy-haired Scott McCall.

The new wolf hadn’t wanted to join a pack at the time — apparently he didn’t have to as long as he maintained other strong personal connections — but the Alphas in the region, Satomi Ito and Talia Hale had offered resources and basic lessons. Scott took to Satomi right away so she was the one who instructed him and still checked up on him from time to time, but the Sheriff was present with Scott’s mom, Melissa, at the initial meeting and naturally looked up what he could about the resident wolves.

His father had never mentioned the name of the 2nd Alpha knowing how especially nosy his son was back then. Scott had simply misremembered her as “Alpha Helen.” Surprise!

After explaining his dad looked at him, opening and shutting his mouth a few different times before simply snorting and shaking his head.

“Well damn. Good for you, son” he said finally, ambling back to his chair.

Good for me, indeed. And speaking of which, he had a call to make — or maybe a text, this could get embarrassing — to said werewolf bro in San Diego who should still be awake. Stiles had plans for this weekend and some questions to ask.

When Saturday came around — two weeks after he’d left for what he’d thought both the first and last time — Stiles returned to the loft as a man on a mission. Derek was still greeting him after opening the door when he dropped his bag of groceries on the floor and started kissing him. The older man’s amused grin turned into an expression of disbelief and then desire when Stiles dropped to his knees before him. Derek hurriedly closed the door and then he was leaning against it as Stiles gripped his muscular thighs and nuzzled his crotch.

“It’s next time,” he said cheekily as momentarily clawed hands fumbled with the zipper.

He’d been drawing things out some, feeling out the situation at first and then both enjoying the anticipation itself and teasing Derek a little and hopefully making him want, but he was done waiting for more. This was the third occasion of him getting eyes on that gorgeous cock and he was going to get it in his mouth this time. Stiles lifted his eyes to watch Derek staring intently from above and opened up, sticking his tongue out for the wolf to do whatever he wanted while resting his hands on his own legs.

Derek looked at him like he was a precious thing that he also planned on sullying and then took hold of himself, rubbing the head of his cock across Stiles’ cheek and then over his top lip before sliding it onto his tongue and then inside.

“Go on,” the Alpha prompted huskily.

Stiles closed his lips around the hot flesh stretching him wide and started bobbing, eyes fluttering at the taste and feel of him. Oh yes. After a few minutes he withdrew and teased Derek’s shaft with little licks and then over the head and dipping into the slit, making him whine and jerk minutely. Stiles engulfed him again, tongue lapping firmly on the underside of his cock as he resumed sucking.

A hand was placed on his head and Stiles moaned in approval, encouraging the wolf to thrust as well. He opened even wider and let saliva run down, the wet sounds and the grunts of pleasure above spurring him on. When Derek started tensing up he finally lifted a hand to grasp his balls, fondling and squeezing them just hard enough to send him over the edge.

Cum flooded his mouth, warm and rich on his tongue. Derek reached down to run the pads of his fingers up and down his throat, growling lowly as he swallowed. He didn’t stop until he took it all and the Alpha’s head fell back against the door.

“Wow.”

Stiles pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand and grinned.

After taking a minute to rest, leaning into a bite-worthy thigh and being pet affectionately, he got up with an assist from a starry-eyed Derek, who immediately cupped his face and kissed him hungrily. Then he cleaned up a bit and made space on the counter, gathering the groceries spilling out of the bag. Now to put the rest of his plan into motion. As he unpacked the other pierogi fixings he made a show of looking for a missing item.

“Oh crap, I don’t have the sour cream and I need it for this. Do you think you could grab some for me while I get things started?”

Stiles made a point of not saying he forgot the sour cream because that would’ve been a big fat lie, but he must’ve still reacted in some way, perhaps his heart speeding up as he wondered if this would work or in anticipation, and the wolf narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Derek soon fell victim to his puppy dog eyes anyway and went on the errand after shooting him another dubious glance and saying “Be good.”

Going to be so good for you, Der.

As soon as he heard the car pull away Stiles went hunting through the neat pile of clothes that the Alpha had worn, but didn’t need to go in the laundry basket yet. He selected one of Derek’s light gray T-shirts that the wolf liked to sleep and apparently run in sometimes, which were large even on his broader body. The hem came down to the very tops of his thighs in front and showed just a hint of butt cheek in the back. Perfect.

He’d had that awkward and hilarious conversation with Scott a few nights ago, who excitedly called him full of his own questions after Stiles texted “So, werewolf sex…now relevant to my interests. Give me the deets.”

There were some things he already knew about — the thing about necks, STIs not being a concern, and the importance of scent in general — but he learned that wearing their clothes in particular was like wolfnip. That certain movements and actions made them want to chase and that getting into a position that was head down and ass up went straight to their furry little brains. About the different kinds of marking.

Knowing he had 20 minutes or so at most now before Derek returned Stiles washed up quickly, put the shirt back on, and then peeked into the nightstand for lube, which he actually did forget to bring. Luckily, the wolf kept it in the typical place and he got to working himself open on the bed, teasing, but not trying to get off. Stiles withdrew three fingers when he heard the Camaro pull in — he was a pro at recognizing car engine’s thanks to years of listening for his father or other patrol cars while doing mischief — and set the scene.

Derek called out for him shortly after entering and he yelled “Up here.”

“I hope I got the right kind,” he replied, climbing the stairs. “There were a bunch of different ones, but I just got a tub of original and also picked up s—“

Stiles wished he could’ve captured the look on Derek’s face when he walked into the bedroom and froze upon seeing him sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands with his head tilted up and to the side and his feet on the mattress, knees bent and spread wide.

“Alpha,” he breathed, shifting his weight to one hand and trailing a finger between his cheeks with the other. He rolled over onto his forearms and knees after seeing Derek’s hands clench and his eyes turn red.

Stiles heard the sound of the grocery bag hitting the floor and then a belt being unbuckled and clothes quickly being pulled off and discarded. He shivered with anticipation as the mattress dipped behind him.

Derek’s left hand fisted in the shirt and exposed more of his back as the right palmed the corresponding butt cheek, thumb sliding over his wet hole before slipping easily inside.

“I’m ready for you.”

“Stiles,” Derek groaned, letting go of the shirt to grab the bottle of lube on the bed.

The cap was popped open one-handed as the wolf continued to play with his asshole and Stiles closed his eyes, just focusing on the sensation and listening to the slick sounds behind him.

Then he was being mounted, cock head pressed against his rim. He made a high-pitched whine when he was breached and Derek’s hips jerked forward as he sunk deeper, rumbling deep in his chest. Stiles grinned. Another effective werewolf turn-on. He dropped his head lower so that the Alpha could mouth over more of his neck as he bottomed out.

Eyes all but rolling back at the feeling of being so full, he started rocking and squeezing the thick cock buried inside him. When Derek’s arms braced on either side of him and the thrusting began Stiles’ jaw fell open in pleasure even greater than he’d imagined.

Derek:

The feeling of plunging into Stiles’ welcoming heat was indescribable. He was enveloped. Embedded. Euphoric.

Derek knew that the human was up to something, but had assumed a prank or game of some kind. Maybe hiding notes or trinkets for him to find later or making some mystery concoction.

He was not expecting to find Stiles in his bed, naked except for his shirt, showing off his throat and glistening hole and then presenting for him. It took all of his control to not just rip through his clothes.

And now he was inside with Stiles eagerly moving around him. Derek almost pulled out before snapping his hips and driving forward again and again and again, desperate to fill him. To feel him.

The sounds of Stiles’ pleasure were intoxicating and fueled him to go faster and harder. He shoved his face into a clothed shoulder, inhaling their combined scents and then rubbing his stubble over the younger man’s exposed skin. Despite his wolf’s protests, he held back his knot as he drew near. Soon hopefully, but not yet.

Derek thought of Stiles swallowing his release an hour or so before and how he was now going to plant his seed within this passage as well, saturating the human’s core with himself, and tipped over the edge. He thrusted on, groaning as his cock pulsed, and shortly after Stiles was crying out and contracting around him untouched. Derek wrapped an arm around him and rose up into a kneeling position, bringing Stiles with him and turning his head to kiss him greedily as they rocked through the aftershocks.

They rinsed off cursorily in the shower, Stiles smirking at him knowingly while using soap on his hands, but not his body and then dressing in more of his clothes. Derek backed him into a wall and sucked a massive bruise onto the side of his neck.

Finally, they got around to making lunch, Derek watching Stiles prepare the dough with sour cream and then helping to assemble the potato, cheese, and fried onion pierogis after copying the first few. Apparently, there were several ways to cook them including boiling, baking, boiling and pan-frying, and pan-frying and steaming. Stiles decided on the latter, topping the browned dumplings with chives and parsley and serving them with more sour cream sprinkled with smoked paprika. It was delicious and Stiles smelled sweet with happiness and satisfaction at his enjoyment.

Derek said he still felt a bit hungry afterward and scooped the squawking human up while he was attempting to do dishes, depositing him gently on his back on the kitchen table. He tugged off the loose gray sweats and swept an arm under Stiles’ knees, folding him up and leaning down to lick broad stripes over the sensitive furled muscle before pushing against it and dipping in. When Stiles came he lapped up the pearly liquid on his belly, sucked his cock clean, pulled up the pants, and then carried the momentarily speechless human into the living room.

Stiles chose a movie called Were The World Mine to watch that was on his list, but that neither of them had seen yet. It was about a bullied gay teenager cast as Puck in a school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream who finds a recipe for a love potion and various shenanigans ensue. Derek’s pick was Baz Luhrman’s Romeo + Juliet in keeping with both the Shakespeare theme and his love for interesting, cool-looking films. Stiles humored him and his raving about the aesthetic, editing, soundtrack, and more when it was over, eventually quieting him by climbing into his lap and occupying his tongue.

And that’s how they ended up upstairs again, Derek being straddled once more, only now with Stiles perched on his knot.

He’d been planning to bring it up (ha!) some other time, likely a ways down the road, but Stiles surprised him yet again and asked Derek if he’d like to, obviously curious about it himself. Um, yeah. He was ridden silly until it formed and together they worked it inside nice and easy. Derek grinned from ear to ear as he experienced this dream come true and, well, came more than he ever had before.

Stiles was still milking him, approaching his own orgasm when he heard the sound of the door being opened downstairs and then an all too annoyingly familiar voice.

“Hey Derek!”

He groaned and knocked his head against the bedstead. Did the wolf not have ears and a nose?

“What are you up to ton—“

Before he could manage to say anything the human still defiantly grinding on his cock took a deep breath.

“Get out!”

There was a pause and then laughter and a half-assed “Ope, my bad” before the door slammed shut again.

“I’m getting you another lock, Derek,” Stiles hissed.

“And I’ll only give you the key, babe” he said, grinning and kissing the annoyed human’s nose. And maybe Boyd. Hecould be trusted to be both observant and considerate.

He wasn’t about to let Ethan ruin Stiles’ good time again so he immediately got to work on distracting him from the intrusion, sucking his nipples and taking hold of his cock while moving his hips in small circles.

“Fuck, Der,” the youth said between moans.

Derek refrained from making the obvious joke, but smiled into Stiles’ neck where he was now leaving more pretty bruises. He put his free hand on the humans hip and then moved it over his ass, grabbing a cheek before sliding fingers between to feel where they were connected. That was apparently the last bit of stimulation needed because then Stiles was gasping and spasming around his knot. He grabbed his cock as he came to aim the rest of his release at Derek’s chest and abdomen.

“CLAAAIIIIMM!” Stiles yelled for any other lurking supernaturals and probably the neighbors on multiple floors to hear, panting and grinning wolfishly.

They both started giggling.

The younger man brought his enthusiastic grinding down to a slow slow rocking motion and reached over to rub his cum into Derek’s skin, affecting him more than he would’ve imagined. Claimed. Eyes prickling and heart full with a knot that might never go down at this rate, he burrowed one hand into the hair at the back of Stiles’ head and pulled him in for deep, sloppy kiss.

About an hour later they were sprawled across the couch, heads at opposite ends and legs tangled together while watching — what else — that cooking show when Stiles got a couple texts in quick succession. Derek grinned, pretty sure he knew what that was about. Stiles inhaled sharply and then barked out a laugh, sitting up to smack him playfully on the shoulder as more messages arrived.

“Oh my god, Derek. So that’s what you were doing on your phone literally behind my back while we were waiting for your knot to go down. And why you were asking if I had plans with my dad again today. You little sneak, you actually did it!”

Stiles’ laughter turned into an indignant cry when he grabbed the phone and then trapped the struggling human out of arms reach with his legs.

“Keep trying babe. Alpha werewolf, remember.”

Now Stiles sounded like a cat with its tail jammed in a door. Yeah, he’d be paying for this later, but it was so funny right now. The screen wasn’t locked yet so Derek clicked on Messages and pulled up the most recent ones as the last few came through.

From Daddio:

<I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know why Derek Hale just sent me a veritable feast from Sauce & Bone.>

Aww. Derek was honestly kind of afraid a bit nervous about meeting the Sheriff, but he liked what he knew of the man so far. And he clearly had him to thank for his favorite human and current hellcat giving him another chance. He supposed he’d have to send Scott something too for the werewolf tips. Derek tossed the phone back to the glaring younger man, but didn't let him up just yet. He waited until after Stiles read the last 3 messages and smiled fondly despite himself.

Of course he was still pounced upon anyway and he resigned himself to his fate, which was apparently an adorably growly Stiles draped on top of him and latched onto his neck like a lamprey, biting and sucking marks onto his skin more intensely than usual. After laying there for a while Derek wrapped his arms around him.

“The night’s still young. You wanna go to Jungle, babe? There might be a really hot dancer there that’s fun and smart and snarky and just amazing in every way.”

Stiles detached from his neck to roll his eyes at Derek, but he couldn’t help the grin and blush that followed. He admired his handiwork for a few moments and then got up.

“Nah, I’m in the mood for staying in. I hear there’s this sweet, geeky, super sexy Alpha werewolf that’s good with his hands who lives around here somewhere. Gonna see if he likes to chase as much as they say.”

And with that Stiles started backing away slowly.

Derek stood up, head tilting involuntarily as Stiles started moving faster and then thankfully turned around so he didn’t trip over something and brain himself. He began following as well. The human then ran for and then up the stairs and he set off after his shrieking prey. As soon as Stiles cleared the last step he leapt and wrapped himself around the younger man and turned to let himself take the brunt of the landing, which was at least on the plush rug.

He rolled them over so that he was on top of Stiles in the dark room, rutting against his ass and firmly, but carefully biting the back of his neck. The heavy scent of arousal and the accompanying whine from his captive made him rumble happily and Derek released his jaws to lave over the skin instead.

Then he mouthed over the juncture between Stiles’ shoulder and neck, setting his teeth there and imagining leaving his mark one day, and the human gasped. Derek stilled for a moment realizing that either the wolf friend told him or he somehow found out another way about what biting there meant. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before leaving a kiss right over it.

He might not be ready to say it and he wouldn’t assume that Stiles was there yet so soon, but Derek wasn’t going to freak out about him knowing what he was thinking about either. What he hoped for in the future that he could now see for them.

“I’m so glad I met you, Stiles,” he said quietly.

There was an eruption of wiggling beneath him so he raised up enough to let the human turn over.

“Likewise, Derek,” Stiles replied.

Derek couldn’t make out his expression in the scant light reaching them from downstairs, but there was that sweet scent of joy and he saw a shadowy face coming towards, kissing him softly after his lips were located. And then after arms pulled him down that face sank into his throat, moving until Stiles found that same spot and bit down gently, sucking a mark there too. Well then.

Eyes burning red, he flipped his future mate back onto his belly and got ready for what could be Round 3, Round 5 or Round 8 depending on how and from when you counted it. It didn’t matter. If Derek had his way he’d spend the rest of his life working toward Round Infinity.

#sterek #sterek fanfic #mead moons #mead moons claiming #mead moons herbs #mead moons hot #mead moons midsummer night's dream #sterekweekly #sterekweeklyvideo #mead moons trisk

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anonymous--weirdo · 2 years ago

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seven~scott mccall x isaac lahey

Ship: scisaac

Genre: major angst

Warnings: Character Death, Child Abuse, Violence

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Scott sat down in the swivel chair by his desk, his pen to the paper, and watched as the blue hue spread into a small circle on the page, yet no words were written. Scott didn’t have them. He wanted to write about the color blue, the ocean, how deep and mysterious it was, and the beauty of swimming in it until you were lost and struggling to find your way back. He wanted to write about melodies that soared through the air and took you to safety and happiness. Thoughts of true love flooded his mind, the way it makes you feel alive and real. Like you're invincible, and nothing could ever hurt you. He threw the pen onto the desk and placed his head in his hands, tears welling into his eyes in frustration. Then he felt a gentle hand on his back, causing him to flinch away.

“Scott come on, your mom is downstairs waiting on us. We have to leave man,” Stiles said softly and helped his best friend up from the chair, frowning seeing the state of him.

Scott didn’t reply as he made his way to the car. He ignored the pitiful looks he got as he sat in the backseat. He looked down and on the floorboard he saw a balled up hoodie with Lahey 14 printed in vinyl on the back. He scooped it up from the floor and cradled it in his arms. He laid his head on the window, soft tears fell down his face as he closed his eyes and got lost in his thoughts.

The look on Isaac’s face was ingrained into Scott’s mind when he suggested he should run away and move in with him. The soft shock and almost terror sent chills through Scott’s spine. However, Scott felt he had no other choice. The bruises never stopped, the whimpering and wincing at each little touch didn’t stop and Scott couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted his boyfriend to be safe and so they planned it out, they would leave three nights from then. During the week Isaac would inconspicuously take all of the things he loved and wanted to keep out of the house and move it into Scott’s. The plan was flawless.

Two days before Isaac was said to move in completely and Scott hadn’t seen Isaac at all. He let his thoughts get the best of him and shot him a text. He was trying to limit the amount of messages they sent each other or how often they talked in the halls of the school. The worry however, was too much for Scott to bear, especially when the situation was so delicate.

[ Hey, checking in. I haven’t seen you all day and I am worried about you < 3 ] he sent with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth and the phone hidden slightly under the desk.

[I’m okay darling, just a bit under the weather today. The plan is still a go I promise < 3 I love you]

Scott read over the message and smiled to himself. He should have known there was nothing to worry about.

The day had come and Isaac still hadn’t been at school. The worry came back despite the constant texts he received from his boyfriend. The ticking of the clock seemed neverending as he waited for class to end. When the shrill bell rang he exited class and walked down the dreary hallway, rain was never a good thing in Beacon Hills, it made the atmosphere of the entire town eerie and sad. He checked the time and for any new messages from Isaac. He glanced toward Coach Lahey’s office and saw the lights off which was unusual for this time of day, the pool was indoors and it made sense for practice to still be on despite the rain. Being the nosey boy he was, he approached the office and peeked inside, it appeared as if no one had been in it all day and his blood ran ice cold.

Scott arrived at the Lahey household, the rain pelted against the window of his car. The rough pelting of the rain on his car only made his anxiety increase, his foot pressed the pedal harder as he sped to the Lahey residence. The street lamps passed in a blur as the dark clouds loomed overhead. He almost missed the house due to how fast he was going, he slammed his foot onto the brakes skidding into the driveway as he shoved the gear shift into park. He slung the door open, not bothering to shut the door or even take the keys from the ignition.

He sprinted to the door banging on it, “Isaac!” He screamed and banged harder, “Isaac, baby, open the door! Come on let me in!” he begged and knocked, despite hearing movement in the house no one came to answer the door, “come on Isaac!” he couldn’t take not knowing where his partner was or if he was okay. He kicked right above the door handle and under the dead bolt watching as the door kicked in.

His eyes were locked on the mess, if Scott wasn’t the forced entry it would have looked like a robbery took place. Each step he took made the floor attempt to whisper a silenced secret, he thought of what the walls would tell him if they could talk. The tragedies they could write would outdo anything Shakespeare ever did. He rounded a corner and saw a large dent in the wall, it looked as if something was slammed into over and over again. As he crept through the house, kicking something, hearing a clink, he looked down and saw broken glass scattered on the floor, a small puddle of blood with it. Then he heard it, a loud groan from the tired floorboards and looked up. That was when he saw him, a grotesque looking man, with dark beady eyes and an animalistic smile. He looked like a boogeyman of sorts, and for Isaac he always had been.

“If you're looking for Isaac you best be going,” the man smirked, “the brat is long gone. This is your fault, should have just left him alone.” he let out a laugh.

“What did you do to him? You sick son of a bitch! Where is he?” Scott growled at the man. Rage coursed through his veins as he stared at the monster in front of him. This creature had caused Isaac so much pain and had never once had to face a consequence for it. That ended today.

Scott lunged at the man causing him to stumble back into the table. Scott’s vision blurred as his fist drew blood from the man’s face. He couldn’t stop himself. With each punch his anger didn’t seize. He shoved him to the ground, the adrenaline fueling his strength and he landed harsh bone cracking kicks to the man's side.

“Isaac came downstairs!” he called out assuming his boyfriend was hiding in his room, the feeling of the things hands clawing trying to force itself free from his violent clutches did nothing. He glared down into the man's eyes. He rammed his shoe into the other’s chin and watched as his eyes went closed effectively knocking him out. He glanced at the stairs and ran up them into Isaac’s room, it was almost empty. The one thing left was a shattered picture frame of a blonde woman and a four year old Isaac. Scott frowned not seeing Isaac though.

He sprinted back down the steps and looked around before he saw a door he could have sworn was a portal to hell, he glanced back making sure the monster was still knocked out. He made his way down the steps and saw a deep freezer with a padlock chain on it and the fear set in, he knew where his boyfriend was. Scott ripped the chain lock off the freezer and opened the lid, the top had his name scratched into it alongside it desparte claw marks aching to be let out. He scooped the blonde boy from the freezer, his heartbeat was vacant and Scott screamed. The anguished cries rang down the street as he held Isaac’s body close to his chest placing isaac’s hand over his chest begging for five more minutes as he looked at the other’s fingertips. The blood under his nails was long dried and the soft purple that stained his lips had properly set in. Dark black and blue bruises were littered over his skin and the mark on his back showed what had been thrown into the living room wall repeatedly. The fear in the other’s ocean blue eyes was still evident behind the peace it seemed death had brought them, Scott gently closed his lovers eyes.

“I should have been here faster, I love you Isaac. I love you so much” he whispered softly and buried his face in the other’s soft blonde curls. Tears dripped onto Isaac’s pale cold skin. He held him closer to his chest refusing to move. Why should he move? Isaac was never going to move again, Scott could spare 10 minutes of the rest of his lifetime to just hold Isaac in a gentle way.

Scott felt a hand on his back and it forced him to flinch away, he looked up seeing Stiles, his best friend. The thoughts ran through his head. How could he not get there faster? How could he have let it get this bad? He should have saved him, that was his thing he saved people. And the one person he needed to save the most he couldn’t.

“Scott, you have to set him down. My dad will be down here in a little bit, this is being treated as a homicide.” Stiles said, “you're lucky you didn’t kill his dad or else you would be in the back of that cop car not him.”

“He was supposed to move in with me tonight, Stiles. Almost all of his stuff is at my house,” Scott whispered and refused to let his lover go, he couldn't. “Now what am I supposed to do, Stiles? I was supposed to save him!” Scott growled looking up at Stiles.

Stiles sat next to Scott and looked at him “come stay with me for a few nights. Being around his things isn’t good for you right now.” Stiles said and tried to convince the boy, “I can call your mom. I'm sure she won't mind. Just don't let yourself be alone with the thoughts.” he begged his best friend and slowly helped him lay Isaac on the basement floor. He tugged Scott off the floor and helped him up the stairs.

Scott watched the trees pass by as they made their way to the funeral. He thought of the late night phone call they got from the coroner, Isaac died two days before Scott showed up. He kept replaying the text messages in his head. They sounded like Isaac. But that’s the thing with psychopaths, they're good liars. Scott wished he could have noticed a difference in the text, one little thing to show that he was texting the devilish man rather than his lover. But he couldn’t other than the solid timeline from the coroner he would have still thought he texted Isaac those two days. He wanted Isaac back so bad, he wanted to hold the other male in his arms, run his fingers through the soft curls. He wanted to hear Isaac’s gentle whines about Scott messing up his hair but never once stopping him. He just wanted Isaac back. Instead he was left with memories. Memories of the sweetest boy to ever grace the earth.

Scott thought of the eulogy he didn’t write. He was supposed to give it in less than five minutes. Stiles wrote him one to speak if he couldn’t write it, and it was placed in Scott’s suit jacket pocket. If Scott would have been in the right state of mind he would have thanked Stiles, hugged his best friend tight and never let go. But he was distant, he barely ate, barely slept or left his room. He hadn’t been to school since the incident. He just stayed in bed Isaac’s favorite scarf held close to his face as he took in the now fading smell of his partner.

They arrived at the funeral and looks of pity followed Scott’s footsteps. It was the smallest funeral ever held in Beacon Hills and it pissed Scott off. Isaac deserved something, he deserved more than the nine people who showed up. He remembered the first funeral he ever went to, it was his mom’s friend. He watched as a woman went up in from the crowd, tears in her eyes barely able to speak a single word through her sobs. He remembered thinking ‘It can't be that hard, no one could be that sad.’ and it’s so easy to think that when you're seven years old. He suddenly understood that woman at seventeen, as he made his way up in front of the small group of people who showed up for his boyfriend.

He placed a shaky hand on the coffin in front of him and looked over the lavender flowers on top, they represented calmness and he hoped that is what Isaac had now. He let out a choked sob and shook his head, he couldn’t do this. His knees buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground. He wanted to beg, he wanted to join Isaac. He felt someone crouch down and arms wrap around his body, he glanced back expecting his mother from the way he was being held but it was Stiles. He turned around hugging Stiles. Sobbing into his best friend’s chest. Stiles didn’t pull him back to his chair in the very small crowd. He let his best friend cry into his chest.

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to cry Scott. You're allowed to feel sad and angry. Let it go,”he whispered and placed his chin on top of Scott’s head as he held him. They had nowhere to be and the people in the crowd would wait until Scott was okay, even if they had to sit there forever.

“I miss him Stiles and he’s barely been gone a week,” Scott sobbed out “how am i supposed to do the rest of my life without him?” He asked sadly and clung tighter to the boy. “I was supposed to love him for eternity.” he sniffled.

“And you will Scott, nothing will stop the love you feel for him. It will never end. You may not believe in soulmates but I do Scott, and he was yours. However much like the sad playwrights and poets say, fate is a cruel mistress. But you can’t give her that much power. Let Isaac live on through you Scott. It’s what he what have wanted, and that is cheesy bullshit and what you're supposed to say but it's true. “ he said and pulled his best friend up from the ground, “now, get your ass on front of this crowd and deliver the best goddamn eulogy they have ever heard.” He said and patted his shoulder, “and I will stand by your side the entire time. I will always stand by you Scott.” he promised.

With Stiles by his side, he cleared his throat, “I was supposed to pre-prepare something, and I couldn’t. I don’t know how to write about Isaac in the past tense because he was supposed to be my future. And I suppose if you believe in the afterlife, he might still be. But right now, I want him to be the present. And I want to stand up here and tell you all the beautiful things about him and his life. But to be honest, his life was a nightmare. But I don’t want to dwell on that. Isaac Lahey is the definition of beautiful in my book. He is so sweet inside and out and never would never wish harm upon anyone. He likes scarves and overplayed ABBA songs. The night he asked me out, we were listening to Honey Honey. And he laughed softly; it was the prettiest sound I have ever heard. He told me he loved me before he asked me out. I think that describes him well. He loves to jump headfirst into things. I love him, and I will love him forever. Until my heart stops beating, and I will think of him every time I hear the disco tones of ABBA, even if I will forever argue with him that the Mama Mia Soundtrack is better." Scott let out a small laugh and glanced at his best friend, “he will always be my forever. Even if he isn’t here I won’t let him die. “ he promised the small crowd and walked to his seat with Stiles, who kept a grounding hand on his arms the whole time.

#isaac lahey #scott mccall #isaac lahey x scott mccall #scisaac #scott and stiles #scott and isaac #sad #sciles #teen wolf #character death #angst #idk how to tags still #there might be typos

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