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the_deep_magicTitle: The Old Familiar Sting (5/5)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Rating: NC-17
For summary and warnings, please see part one
One / Two / Three / Four
Maybe Derek should’ve felt nostalgic, climbing into Scott’s window in the dead of night for the first time in at least six months, but instead he mostly felt nauseated. He’d already been to Boyd’s house and Isaac’s foster home, but neither of those visits had sparked this queasy feeling.
Scott was sitting on his bed with his laptop, furiously jabbing one of the keys and murmuring die die die die at something on the screen. He had to know Derek was there, but he didn’t seem to be in any rush to acknowledge him until the thing on the computer met its demise. Finally, he looked up and sighed. “I happen to know you have a cell phone.”
Derek just glowered. At least he remembered how to do that, even if it no longer had the same effect it once did. “You need to come with me right now.”
“Um, no?”
“The meeting with the omega pack. It’s at midnight.”
That got Scott moving, grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor to yank over his boxers. “Couldn’t have given me a little more warning?”
“It happened fast.” Technically true, though Derek had been the one to request that it happen as soon as possible.
Scott went for his shoes. “Shit, okay, have you rallied the troops? You smell like Isaac and Boyd – do you need me to call Stiles to meet us there?”
“No,” Derek said, snatching Scott’s phone off the desk before he could grab it. “Stiles is sitting this one out.”
Scott froze. “What did you do to him?”
“What?” Derek said, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”
“Do not even try to tell me that Stiles is ‘sitting this one out’ by choice. So either he doesn’t know or you’ve got him chained up somewhere.”
Actually, chains might have been a good idea. Too bad there wasn’t time before the meeting now. “He’s not chained up.”
“So you’re just, what, not going to tell him? And hold my phone hostage so I don’t tell him?”
Derek sighed. “No, you need to have in on you just in case we… just in case. But you are not calling, texting, or otherwise alerting Stiles to this in any way, do you understand?”
“Have you lost your mind?” Scott hissed. “We need him there. He’s part of the pack.”
There was a twinge in Derek’s chest, but he held firm. “He helped us prepare for this. That’s enough. Scott, you know how dangerous this is tonight. If they attack and it’s clear we can’t win, we’ll have to scatter and regroup. Stiles isn’t fast enough to get away in time. You know that.”
“He can take care of himself. He’s always been fine,” Scott insisted, but Derek could hear the smallest tremor in his voice.
“And how long before he’s not? Even he’d tell you that half of it’s been sheer luck.”
“He’d still want to go,” Scott said, sounding resigned. “He’ll never forgive me for leaving him out of this.”
“Of course he will,” Derek said softly. “He’d forgive you anything. That’s who he is. But if it helps, you can tell him I did hold your phone hostage.”
Scott shook his head, but he was already walking towards the window. “This whole thing is a bad idea.”
“I know. But it’s the only one we’ve got.” He held out Scott’s phone, not handing it over just yet. “Look me in the eye and promise me you won’t tell Stiles until it’s over.”
Scott looked miserable, but when he promised, there was no lie in his heartbeat.
&&&
They met up with Isaac and Boyd about half a mile from the house. “Stay calm, and no shifting unless you have to,” Derek said, as much to himself as to the others. “If it gets ugly, get out of there as fast as you can and we’ll meet up at the western edge of the Preserve, near the main road. I don’t think they’ll risk coming that deep into Beacon Hills.”
Isaac, Boyd, and especially Scott all looked like they had their misgivings, but they nodded. Derek was half-amazed that they’d even listened to him, that they were still willing to back him up. He wouldn’t lose another one of them, he decided, no matter what it cost him. Even if he had to cede some of the territory, something that went against every alpha instinct he had. Even if he had to give his life.
What was surprising was the realization that he really, really didn’t want to have it come to that. Before, when fighting his uncle, when confronting Gerard and the kanima in the warehouse, he hadn’t felt much one way or the other about whether he’d make it out alive.
They got to the house before midnight, but the other pack was already there. The full moon shed light on everyone in the clearing – it was a tricky move, setting the meeting on the full moon, but Derek had hoped that the omegas would fear the power of an alpha more intensely. Of course, it could also make them less able to control themselves.
There turned out to be seven in the pack – three hunters and four werewolves. Derek felt a small measure of relief that they weren’t hugely outnumbered, even though he’d known a pack like this could never survive if it were large. All the hunters were armed, and the werewolves already looked to be on edge. A male hunter and a female werewolf stood in front of the others.
Derek motioned for Scott, Boyd, and Isaac to stop, and he stepped forward.
“I assume you’re the alpha?” the man said, his steady heartbeat matching his casual tone. They’d only communicated through notes, so this was the first time Derek had seen him. Sight and hearing were all Derek had to go by – they had all apparently doused themselves in whatever scent neutralizer Boyd had originally found near the border. Derek wondered whether it was as disturbing to the omegas as it was to him.
“I am,” Derek said. “What are you doing in Hale territory?”
“You invited us in,” the woman said coyly.
Derek had to keep from grinding his teeth. “What do you want?”
“Pretty simple, really,” the man said, putting his hands on his hips – right next to a holster. “You’ve got yourself more land than you can handle. We need a place to stay. Surely you can find a way to share.”
“Even if that were possible,” Derek said, feeling himself stiffen, “why the surveillance? Why the scent blind?”
“We were clumsy, I know. But you know what we are, and that we’re not safe on our own. We’re tired of moving. We don’t want trouble, and we won’t cause you any trouble.”
“We have no intention of accepting you into our pack.”
“And we have no desire to join,” the woman said with disgust.
“So what assurance do I have that you won’t try to take the whole territory by force?”
The man laughed and gestured to the rest of the pack. “Look at us. Do we look threatening to you?”
Truthfully, they didn’t. It was easy to see they’d been on the run for months, if not longer. But there was undoubtedly wolfsbane in the hunters’ weapons, and the werewolves looked unstable even to Derek – considering the company he’d kept, that was saying something.
“I’m sorry,” Derek said icily, “but we can’t help you. You need to move on.”
The man smiled, “I promise you, we mean you no harm.”
This time Derek laughed, his fangs lengthening a little. “Been around werewolves this long and you still haven’t learned how to disguise a lie?” The man’s casual composure broke for a split second, but it was enough for Derek. He took another step forward. “You didn’t come here to ‘share’ anything.”
The man stared hard at Derek before saying, in that same irritatingly calm tone, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we want a place of our own.”
“You’d better find it somewhere else, then,” Derek growled, his claws beginning to emerge. He had only wanted to try to intimidate the omegas, but he was beginning to feel his control slip.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the woman cooed. “This is the most promising territory we’ve found so far. There aren’t many of us, but there are even fewer of you.”
Derek let his eyes flash red, let the claws slip all the way out. It had the intended effect – the werewolves shrank back. But they all shifted and dropped into a fighting stance, including the woman, who seemed less intimidated by Derek than she should be. Than he’d hoped. “There may be fewer of us,” he said, his voice dropping into a true alpha growl, “but we’re stronger. And this is our home.”
The man drew his gun, aiming it straight at Derek and dropping his casual act entirely. “Alphas, omegas, you animals are all the same when it comes to wolfsbane. Posture all you want, Hale, we’re still taking this land. And obviously, the betas are going to have to go, too.”
It was too much; Derek could feel his control cracking under the weight of the full moon, the threat to his pack, and worse, his missing anchor. The full shift started to take effect, hair sprouting from his cheeks as he breathed in to roar, to tear these interlopers limb from limb. He was aware of nothing else, not even his betas behind him, not even—
The hand on his shoulder.
The shift seemed to pull itself back, along with the lust for blood, and he could think again. He could place the voice next to him, the one that was saying, in a commanding tone, “Wait.”
Stiles.
Derek turned to look, but even though Stiles’ hand was still firmly on his shoulder, he wasn’t speaking to Derek. “Stop this. You need to leave.”
The man laughed, his eyes never leaving Derek. “How sweet, you have a human in your pack. You think that’s going to stop us, kid?”
“No,” Stiles said calmly, though Derek could hear his racing heart. “But she might.”
He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, and Derek turned to see Allison stepping out of the shadows, bow drawn.
The omegas, even the woman in front, froze, as though this was hardly an uncommon sight for them – Derek suspected the hunters probably didn’t have a very sympathetic attitude toward werewolves, and the “protection” they offered the omegas came with a price. But the two other hunters drew their weapons, another gun and a crossbow, both pointed at Allison. Derek didn’t turn around again, but he knew without looking that Allison wouldn’t even flinch.
“She can get at least one shot off before any of you can,” Stiles said. “And then, if you choose to retaliate, you can go find Chris Argent and explain to him why you killed his only daughter.”
The hunter with the crossbow hissed, “You didn’t tell us this was Argent territory!”
“It doesn’t matter,” the man said, but his pulse was starting to rise. “There are only two of them left, and they’re out of the game.”
Stiles clutched Derek’s shoulder a little tighter, but he laughed. “How ‘out of the game’ does that look to you, asshole? And you may not follow the Code, but Argent does, and he has lots of friends who do. Not to mention he’s got an armory and my dad’s the sheriff. So go ahead, kill us and make yourselves nice and cozy.” He pointed at the house. “I’d recommend the basement. You’ve got, I dunno, maybe a week before every deputy in the county plus a couple dozen hunters show up armed to the teeth to wipe you out.”
Behind them, Allison snorted. “Stiles, don’t insult us. Three days, tops.”
Stiles shrugged. “You heard the lady with the armor-piercing arrow.”
All the while, Derek had been playing a fast mental game of catch-up, and now that he had himself back under control, he figured he’d better start acting like an alpha again. “Leave,” he said, keeping the growl and the red eyes. “Put your weapons down and go right now, and we won’t harm you.”
Stiles turned to Derek. “Can’t we harm them a little?”
“Not if they don’t come back. Ever.” Then Derek let loose with the roar he’d been holding back.
The omegas, all of them, scampered away. Without their guard dogs, the hunters started slowly backing down, though the leader kept his gun trained on Derek. “Weapons down,” Derek snarled, and the man finally dropped the gun and ran, his two companions unarmed and close behind.
As soon as they were gone, Stiles sagged against Derek’s side, and Derek could hear Scott racing over to Allison. “Well, all things considered,” Stiles said, “that was practically a square dance.”
“And you weren’t invited,” Derek snapped, the leftover adrenaline and moonlight keeping his nerves on edge. Still, he supported Stiles’ weight without pushing him away.
Stiles groaned. “Why you gotta be like that?”
Derek shot a look over Stiles’ head. “Scott.”
Scott glanced up from where he’d been nuzzling Allison’s cheek. “What? I didn’t tell him!”
“I did.”
Everyone turned to look at Boyd.
He just shrugged. “You were the one who said we needed to tell each other about any plans. And I wasn’t about to let you bench the guy who saved my ass last time.”
He and Stiles exchanged brief nods and Stiles pulled himself up to stand on his own feet. Derek immediately missed the warmth pressed against his side. Then Stiles poked him in the ribs. “I won’t hold my breath for a ‘thank you,’ but you really need to be thanking Allison. She’s the reason we’ve all still got our limbs attached.”
Before Derek could even open his mouth, Allison said, without bitterness, “I didn’t do it for you.”
“I know,” Derek replied. “But thank you. I didn’t mean to get you involved in this.”
Allison narrowed her eyes like she was about to say something, but Stiles stepped in between them and held up his hands. “Baby steps! We’re all learning how to do this whole ‘pack’ thing together. I’d suggest a group hug, but I’m gonna go ahead and assume we’re not ready for that yet. So, fist bumps all around, let’s go out for milkshakes sometime, et cetera.”
Isaac glanced around. “Stiles, how did the two of you get here? And how did we not hear you coming?”
“I parked about half a mile back and you guys seemed a bit… distracted. Also, Allison is a stealthy mofo and I literally followed in her footsteps.”
“All right,” Derek sighed, his energy draining out to be replaced by a vague itch under his skin. “Stiles can take Scott and Allison home. I’ll make sure Isaac and Boyd get back safely. We’ll do group border runs for the next few days just to make sure the other pack is actually gone. I’ll call you tomorrow. All of you.”
He looked at Stiles, who smiled just a little and gave a slight nod before turning to Scott and Allison, who were definitely not acting like a broken-up couple. “Okay, Allison gets shotgun and Scott’s in the back seat. There will be no profaning of my Jeep tonight.”
&&&
Isaac’s foster home was closer, so they went there first. When Derek got Boyd home, Boyd gave him a look that dared Derek to yell at him for calling Stiles. Derek just sighed. “You did the right thing, Boyd. I just… didn’t want to put anybody at unnecessary risk.”
Boyd raised his eyebrows. “How about not putting me at unnecessary risk by making sure we have as much brainpower as we can? I don’t know exactly what you were going through up until a few weeks ago, but it was obviously Stiles who pulled you out of it. You two have to get your shit together, because we need him.” Without waiting for a reply, Boyd carefully opened his bedroom window – on the ground floor for once – and climbed inside.
Derek dropped into a mindless run, concentrating on nothing but the burn in his muscles. He would have liked to claim that he didn’t realize he was headed toward Stiles’ house until he saw the Jeep parked in the driveway, but honestly, he had known where he would end up. He figured the Sheriff had to be on night duty if Stiles had gotten away so easily, and sure enough, the cruiser was gone. Derek stared up at Stiles’ bedroom window, lit softly by lamplight, and made a choice.
He walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
He heard a quietly muttered Who the fuck? as footsteps stomped down the stairs and toward the door. He knew Stiles had looked through the peephole when his heartbeat sped up, but he opened the door anyway.
Derek knew he should start, should say something conciliatory, but it was hard to speak when faced with Stiles in his pajamas again, the bottoms riding low enough to expose a pale strip of skin, staring at Derek like he hadn’t just seen him half an hour ago. “This must be serious,” Stiles said, scratching the back of his head and rucking his shirt up another inch. “I wasn’t sure you’d extended the concept of ‘doors’ to include my house.”
Derek bit back a groan. “Can I come in?”
“What’s the magic word?”
“I’ve been an ass.”
Stiles blinked at him a few times and stepped back, gesturing for Derek to come inside. “Close enough. Now get in here before the neighbors see you and tell my dad about the midnight visitations from strange men.”
“Visitations, plural?” Derek asked, mostly teasing. “You make a habit of letting strange men in after dark?”
“Apparently I’m very popular with creatures of the night.”
“Including Scott?”
Stiles groaned, and Derek realized he was following Stiles back up the stairs. “Do not talk to me about Scott. He is in so much shit for not telling me about that little clusterfuck you arranged.”
“I told him not to.”
“Since when does he do what you tell him to?” Stiles asked, whirling on Derek and jabbing him in the chest with a finger. “Honestly, it’s like you don’t know any of us.”
“He did this time. And I knew you wouldn’t listen.”
“That’s because it was a dumbass—” Stiles cut himself off. “Wait, why are we even arguing about this? You were wrong, I saved your ass – well, in the sense that I called Allison and she saved your ass – and everybody learned a fun lesson about trust with no injuries of any kind, which is really sort of miraculous, if you think about it. I am 100% in the right here.”
Stiles plopped down in his desk chair, and Derek could smell the burnt adrenaline and residual fear in his system. So Derek did the only thing he could think of that would get Stiles’ attention and keep it – he dropped to his knees next to the chair. “How did you know that I needed you?” Derek asked softly.
Obviously taken off guard, Stiles stammered a little before finding his voice again. “You g-guys always need me. I thought we established that.”
“No,” Derek said, thinking of Stiles’ hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “How did you know that I needed you?”
“Oh.” Stiles seemed to read Derek’s mind, because he rested his hand on Derek’s shoulder again. “I don’t know. I just did.”
Derek wasn’t sure how much Stiles knew about anchors, if he even knew he was Derek’s. Maybe there was nothing supernatural about it. Maybe he just came to stand beside Derek because that was where he wanted to be. It dredged up questions that Derek had been suppressing for a long time.
“Why?” Derek asked. “Why did you do all this for me? Not just tonight, I mean. When you wouldn’t let me self-destruct with the drugs. I could have killed you. I almost did.”
Stiles smirked humorlessly, but squeezed Derek’s shoulder. “I’ve been wondering when you were going to ask me that.”
“You didn’t have to do any of it. You didn’t owe me a damn thing, and I wasn’t your responsibility.”
“No, you weren’t,” Stiles said softly. “You still aren’t. And yet, I keep showing up.”
“So…”
Stiles gnawed at his lower lip, eyes dropping as his cheeks flushed. “Derek, it’s not that complicated. You already know.”
Could it really be that simple? “People don’t… Nobody stays with me.”
“Isaac and Boyd do. Even Scott does.”
“Not like you do.”
“Yeah, well, they’re not in—”
Stiles cut himself off and turned his head away as his heartbeat spiked. Derek knew he needed to give Stiles something in return, to explain why he’d tried so hard to break away from Stiles in the past few weeks, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. “The nightmares,” he started weakly.
That got Stiles’ attention. “Have they gotten worse?”
“You’re in them.”
Stiles swallowed loudly, his eyes wide with shock. “Oh.”
“You’re burning along with everybody else, trapped and terrified, and I can see you, but I can’t…” Derek shook his head, his throat closing with pain before he could say anymore. He tried to look down at the floor, but Stiles cradled his face with both hands.
He looked at Derek for a long moment like he didn’t quite know what to do with him. Finally, he said, “I have nightmares sometimes. They’re about people I love wasting away. You’ve started showing up there, too. I see the needle going in, but instead of injecting the drug, it drains something out of you until you crumble into dust and just… blow away. You said strong emotional ties can make someone pack? There you go. Subconscious, fucked up proof that we’re important to each other.”
“I don’t want—” Derek started, but stopped before he could say something truly stupid like I don’t want you to be too important to me for your own good. “It’s not fair to you for me to have to lean on you so much.”
Stiles rubbed a thumb across his cheekbone. “You know there’s a difference between leaning on a crutch and asking for help, don’t you?”
Derek couldn’t really respond to that, so he just lowered his head to rest against Stiles’ thigh and let Stiles’ stroke his hair. “There are so many of us who want to help you if you’ll let us. I’m just the most stubborn.”
Derek snorted. “That’s not all you are.” He meant it to be teasing, but instead it came out soft, something very close to a confession.
Stiles lifted Derek’s head from his lap and stood, offering Derek a hand up as well. “C’mon, you must be exhausted and my dad won’t be back for hours.”
Derek stripped off his jeans and shirt, expecting Stiles to get him some sweatpants or something, but Stiles had already crawled into bed and was holding the covers back for Derek to join him. Derek would have to have been a fool not to know where this was going, but still, the sheets and blankets, soaked with nothing but Stiles’ scent, made Derek groan and bury his face in a pillow, breathing deeply. Stiles had jerked off here not long ago, had probably mostly cleaned it up with tissues, but the smell still lingered, strong enough to drive Derek crazy.
“I slept in your bed,” he confessed, unable to stop himself. “I mean, not this one, but the one in my guest bedroom where you stayed. I never changed the sheets, so they still smell like you.” When Derek rolled his head enough to open one eye, Stiles was right there next to him.
“Did it help with the nightmares?”
“Helped with a lot of things,” Derek said, past the point of caring how it sounded.
Stiles grinned. “So you’re saying I ought to come over and roll around in your bed as often as possible.” He was up on his elbow, practically hovering over Derek now.
As much as Derek wanted to reply Oh god yes, he remembered how they’d left things at the end of the week Stiles had stayed with him. “Aren’t we supposed to talk about… feelings first?”
Stiles laughed, long and hard, his head dropping to Derek’s bare shoulder. “You sound like you’d rather be disemboweled with a butter knife.”
Derek flipped over onto his back, letting Stiles fall to rest against his chest. “That would be far less traumatic. And I’d heal from that.”
“But you wouldn’t heal from this?” Stiles asked softly, sitting up enough to look Derek in the eye.
“Depends,” Derek said, watching Stiles’ face very carefully. “What exactly are we talking about?”
Stiles blushed, but he didn’t look away this time. “As much or as little as you want. If I haven’t made it abundantly clear, I’m kind of fucking crazy about you. I just… I need to know where I stand with you. I get that talking isn’t your thing and I understand why you pushed me away, but you can’t keep doing that. It really hurt. I know you’ve got me outmatched on abandonment issues, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have them, too.”
Derek had no idea how Stiles could be so honest, could just put words to everything and have them come out right. He wanted to say you’re so young or you don’t know what you’re asking for, but Stiles was by far the more mature one here. He hadn’t wanted to take advantage of Derek, when it should’ve been the other way around. Shouldn’t it? “Is… Are we on a level playing field now?”
Stiles seemed to take a moment to think. “I don’t know how to measure that, and I’m not sure I’d want to, anyway. Comparing damage isn’t going to do any good. I think we just need to know where the quicksand is and work around it.”
“You said… Before you left, you said something about motives.”
Stiles nodded, and Derek could smell a sudden rush of embarrassment. “Okay, this is going to sound like the stupidest thing ever, but… I didn’t want to feel like I was trying to heal you with my cock? Fuck, it sounds even worse out loud. I mean, I guess my cock could have magical healing powers – I’ve seen weirder shit, and it’s not like I’ve ever gotten to test it out. But I didn’t, like, want to delude myself into thinking sex would fix anything.”
“You do realize everyone else your age assumes that sex fixes everything.”
“Yeah, they haven’t been paralyzed by a werelizard hitman. Hitlizard? That kind of puts things into perspective.”
On a sudden impulse, Derek pushed up to kiss Stiles on the forehead. “And I didn’t want to just… take something from you that you couldn’t get back.”
Stiles’ brow furrowed. “Why would you think you’re taking anything from me?” His eyes suddenly went wide when he figured it out. “Oh. That.” Derek was infinitely thankful Stiles didn’t say her name. “Do you really think that’s what you’re doing? Because if this makes you uncomfortable—”
“It doesn’t,” Derek said, surprising himself with the force behind his words. “Maybe I’m worried because I think it should, but it doesn’t.”
“We can wait, Derek. I can wait.”
Derek groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I don’t want to. The pack tonight isn’t the only one that’s going to challenge us. We still haven’t found Gerard, and god knows what else is coming.”
Stiles patiently pried Derek’s hands away. “Do you hear what you’re saying?”
“Yes. We’re going to be in danger as long as we’re in Beacon Hills. As long as you’re around me.”
“No. Well, yes. But despite all that, you’re saying you want something good. Something that makes you happy.” Stiles stopped, flushing bright red but still gripping Derek’s wrists. “I, um. I’m not misreading, right? Because happy’s kind of a relative thing and with you it’s kind of hard to—”
Derek tugged him close and silenced him with a kiss. Just a soft brush of lips, but he could feel the tension flow out of Stiles’ body, and yes, it made Derek happy.
It made Derek happy to settle Stiles back against the pillows and kiss down into his mouth until Stiles opened up to him completely. It made Derek happy to press his body over Stiles’, to line them up and support just enough of his own weight so that Stiles could breathe. And when Derek shifted up to delve further into Stiles’ mouth, it made him very, very happy to draw a deep, yearning groan out of Stiles. The sound seemed to break clean through all the barriers Derek had so carefully put between himself and Stiles, and pure affection rushed in to fill the space left behind.
“Oh my god,” Stiles moaned, hands wrapping around Derek’s shoulders and hips rolling up off the mattress. “You good? We good? Verbs gone.”
Derek chuckled and rocked into the rhythm that Stiles set, slowing it down when it started to get too frantic. Fulfilling a fantasy he hadn’t quite let himself play out even in his head, Derek kissed the mole near the corner of Stiles’ mouth, following the trail of smaller moles and freckles toward the hinge of his jaw. “Is this what you want?” he whispered, making sure to blow hot over the delicate shell of Stiles’ ear.
“It’s – ah, fuck – one of the things,” Stiles gasped. “Just to warn you, there are many, many things.”
“I’d be disappointed if there weren’t,” Derek said, giving himself over to the sparking pleasure that made his breath catch every time their cocks rubbed together. It wasn’t quite enough to get him off – not through two, possibly three, layers of fabric – but from the way Stiles’ muscles were tightening, it would be plenty for him.
Sure enough, Derek felt the dull edges of Stiles’ nails dig into his shoulders and Stiles moaned, “Too close. Not yet.”
Derek kissed the plush fullness of Stiles’ lower lip and smiled. “Go ahead. Let go. We’ve got time for a few other… things.”
Stiles thrust up hard, and Derek pulled back just in time to get a good look at Stiles’ face as he came. His mouth dropped open in shock and his eyes darted behind closed lids and his lungs emptied with a quiet oh before dragging as much air back in as his body could hold. Derek’s heart twisted in his chest when he realized he was the first person to see this, something as fleeting and chaotic as the birth of a new star, but something he could see again. And again. And again, for as long as Stiles let him.
Stiles held tight to him through the bone-deep shudders, and Derek stayed still, gave Stiles something to grind against until he was spent and ready to drop back to the mattress. Then Derek dipped his head and kissed the sheen of sweat from Stiles’ throat, from just beneath his chin all the way down to where it had begun to collect in the hollow between his collarbones. If Derek paused there to suck and bite just a little, well, he could always blame animal instinct. Or something.
But he could feel the buzz of Stiles’ soft laughter against his mouth and the damp patch growing in Stiles’ pajama pants. “So that’s… what all the fuss… is about,” Stiles said, seemingly not in any hurry to catch his breath.
Derek snorted, nosing his way back up Stiles’ neck until he was nuzzling just below Stiles’ ear. “That’s one very, very small part of it.”
Stiles groaned, but Derek could feel his grin against his cheek. “I’m going to die of this, aren’t I? I’m going to be like those crazy gamers who play Call of Duty until they drop dead of dehydration.”
“What if I promise to keep you hydrated?” Derek asked, kissing the corner of Stiles’ mouth.
“Then I’ll—oh.” He shifted his hips, feeling Derek still hard in his boxers. “You didn’t…”
“I will,” Derek said.
Stiles’ grin could’ve lit up the entire house.
He wriggled out from under Derek – the friction making Derek lose track of everything for a moment – kicked off the covers and stripped off his shirt and pajama pants, cleaning himself off with them. And oh god, the scent of Stiles’ cum, fresh and still warm, ripped a jagged groan out of Derek, who flopped on his back and shoved down his own underwear to get a hand around himself and ease some of the pressure.
It didn’t really work, especially when Stiles climbed back over him, one hand running down Derek’s chest and the other gripping his bicep to feel the motion of his arm. “Fuck,” Stiles hissed. “That is so hot. Too bad you need to stop that. Right now.”
“Gimme a reason,” Derek shot back, continuing to stroke himself but slowing the pace and twisting his wrist on the upstroke, his hips jerking a little off the bed each time.
It took a full four and a half seconds – Derek counted – for Stiles to pull his thoughts together enough to respond. “Because, dumbass, I want to get you off.”
“Mm-hmm. What’s your plan?”
Stiles faltered a little, sitting back on his heels, and there was a skip in his heartbeat, a tinge of anxiety to his scent. “What do you want?”
Derek let go of his cock and reached up to touch Stiles’ face. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He slid his thumb across Stiles’ lower lip. “But I’d really, really like your mouth on me, somewhere.”
Stiles sighed with what sounded like relief. “Good. Awesome. Because I don’t know if I’m really ready for… okay, I’m trying not to say ‘buttsex’ here, but… well, I guess I just went ahead and said buttsex, so… that. I mean, that’s a thing that I think I’m going to want, possibly sooner rather than later, but not right this second.”
Derek silenced him by pressing his thumb over both of Stiles’ lips. “Me neither. Your mouth, though…”
“Right, right. Less with the talking, more with the…” Stiles looked Derek up and down with slightly intimidating focus. “Do you, uh, mind if I explore a little bit first? Because, you know: kid, meet candy store.”
Derek tried to hide his grin with a sigh. “All right, but no weird lollipop metaphors or I’m locking myself in the bathroom to jerk off.”
It was the emptiest of threats, but Stiles nodded earnestly before bending down to drop a kiss on Derek’s chin. He started with Derek’s stubble, but proceeded to brush his lips over nearly every inch of Derek’s face and neck. He even kissed both eyebrows – twice – without any explanation, and Derek wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead, he tried to just relax into it, to enjoy it.
It had been a long, long time since Derek had been this still under someone’s careful, methodical touch – probably because it had been a long time since he’d been with anyone who bothered. Hell, it had been a long time since he’d been with anyone. The random hook-ups in New York had never been fun, exactly – more of a release than anything else – and his few attempts at relationships…
Fortunately, Stiles snapped him right out of that train of thought by biting lightly at his nipple. Derek’s whole body jerked, and Stiles looked up, eyes wide. “Okay?”
“Fine,” Derek answered, settling back down. “But go a little bit easier next time.”
Stiles nodded and moved on to Derek’s other nipple, this time worrying it gently with his teeth before giving it a warm, wet suck that had Derek arching up into the sensation until he could feel Stiles’ grin against his flesh.
Stiles worked his way down Derek’s torso with hands and mouth, mapping out the spread of Derek’s ribs and the dip of his navel. Derek was just ticklish enough that it made him tense up a little, and soon long, nimble fingers were tracing the cut of his abs. It was perfect, right up until Stiles ducked his head for a long lick up Derek’s stomach and a sense memory hit him from out of nowhere. Shackles, blinding lights, a nasty grin…
Stiles pulled away immediately, and Derek realized he’d frozen completely and stopped breathing. “I know that wasn’t good sign,” Stiles said, concern creasing his expression.
Derek nodded and concentrated on breathing normally while Stiles climbed back up beside him on the bed. Stiles looked worried to touch him, so Derek reached out and tugged him close, pressed their foreheads and noses together until they were breathing the same air.
“Sorry, bad memory,” he said. “Everything else was… good. Really good.”
Stiles wrapped a hand around the back of Derek’s neck. “Do you want to keep going? We can take a rain check.”
“No,” Derek said, more forcefully than he intended. Despite the shock, he was still mostly hard, and he didn’t want Stiles any less. If anything, he was more determined not to let old memories get in the way – they’d done too much damage already. “No,” he said again, softer. “Please don’t stop.”
Stiles pulled back to look him in the eye, and whatever he saw, it made him nod slowly. “Anything else I need to watch out for?”
“Just… don’t call me ‘sweetie.’”
Suddenly, Stiles was trying very hard – and not entirely succeeding – at suppressing a smirk. “I can honestly say the thought never crossed my mind.”
“Good,” Derek said, able to grin threateningly at him. “Now get back to work.”
“Ooh, permission to make a time-card-punching joke?”
“Permission denied,” Derek said, barely stifling a laugh.
“Slave driver,” Stiles grumbled as he slithered his way back down Derek’s body, but he started in on the delicate skin in the crease of Derek’s hip just as enthusiastically as before.
By the time Stiles finally got around to touching Derek’s cock, Derek was fully hard again, holding back claws so he wouldn’t ruin Stiles’ bed sheets. Stiles’ face betrayed a small attack of nerves as he took Derek in his hand for the first time, stroking him hard and slow like he’d seen Derek do to himself. Stiles was looking at his face so intently that Derek had to close his eyes just to keep from going off at that first touch. Fuck, he used to have amazing stamina, but now, in Stiles’ hands, Derek’s ability to ignore his own desires was quickly evaporating.
Closing his eyes might not have been the best idea, though, because Derek was completely unprepared for the heat of Stiles’ tongue running up his cock, giving a little flick at the tip. Derek made a completely incoherent, garbled sound, and Stiles must have interpreted it the right way because he licked at Derek again. And then again. He traced a vein with the very tip of his tongue, then swirled it around the crown until Derek knew he had to be leaking precum. “You sure you haven’t done this before?” Derek gasped.
Stiles responded with a snort, a puff of cool air against Derek’s wet cock that made him twitch. “I think I would have remembered it.”
He was looking at Derek expectantly, even though Derek was sure Stiles had a pretty damned good idea what to do next. “I’m not gonna last long,” Derek admitted, feeling his face flush. “Just… your mouth.”
Stiles nodded and gripped Derek’s cock, his fingers firm and certain, angling it just right. It was torturously slow going at first, Stiles figuring out how to cover his teeth with his lips while bobbing his head, but it was steadily unraveling what was left of Derek’s control. When Stiles took Derek too deep, he pulled away, coughing, and Derek nearly sobbed at the loss of heat, still reeling from the sensation of bumping the back of Stiles’ throat.
“Use your hand, too,” Derek gritted out. “And your tongue.”
It turned out that Stiles took direction very, very well – he got a rhythm going with his hand around the base first, then lowered his mouth down around Derek’s cock and rubbed the tip with the flat of his tongue while sucking shallowly. Derek’s toes curled, the tension coiling fast in his lower belly and he gasped out a choked warning mere seconds before he came.
But Stiles kept stroking and sucking, the wet heat of his mouth almost more than Derek could bear. He was vaguely aware of Stiles making a pleased sound when the first spurt hit his tongue, and the vibration of it made Derek’s whole body lock up. When his hands fisted in the sheets, he felt something rip under his fingers but he couldn’t even begin to care.
Stiles let go of him a little sooner than Derek would have liked, but even without looking he could hear Stiles struggling to get his breath back. Fuck, Derek was shaking – or at least he felt like he was. And when he looked down the bed at Stiles, he could see a strange mixture of pride and embarrassment on Stiles’ face.
There was cum at the corner of Stiles’ mouth, dripping down his chin, and Stiles’ swiped the back of his hand across his face. “Shit,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “I… I tried to swallow, but there was so much. God, I must look so gross, I—”
Wordlessly, Derek reached down and hauled him up until he was splayed across Derek’s chest. Derek’s tongue swiped the corner of Stiles’ lips, chasing his own taste into Stiles’ mouth and groaning. “Not gross,” he murmured. “Perfect.” And kissed Stiles’ swollen lips, sucked on his tongue until Stiles was wriggling against him.
Derek had both of Stiles’ wrists clasped in one hand held back over both their heads, stretching Stiles’ long, lean body over his own and holding him captive. Stiles’ cock, hard and insistent once again, was trapped between their bellies, and Derek hooked his legs over Stiles’ so Stiles couldn’t get any leverage to thrust. As enjoyable as it had been to watch and feel Stiles rub himself off on Derek, Derek needed to taste him this time.
After a few minutes of plundering Stiles’ mouth while Stiles gasped and squirmed, Derek released him, wrists and legs both. He helped Stiles sit up, knees on either sides of Derek’s ribcage. Stiles stared down at Derek in confusion until Derek hooked his hands behind Stiles’ knees and tugged him forward.
Stiles had to grab the headboard to keep his balance, and he stared down at Derek, his mouth gaping. “Is this what I think it is?”
Derek adjusted the pillow under his head until his neck was at a better angle. “Yep. It’s a headboard.”
Stiles groaned and buried his face against his arm. “You’d better not be screwing with me.”
Derek just grinned up at him, hands sliding up Stiles’ sides until he could tease his nipples with his thumbs. “And if I am, what are you going to do about it? Fuck my mouth?”
Stiles honest-to-god whimpered, and Derek could hear the headboard creak under his grip. When Stiles looked down again, his eyes were wide, almost frightened, but Derek smelled nothing but arousal. “C-can I? You’d let me?”
Let him? God, the things Derek would let Stiles do to him. But Stiles looked overwhelmed enough already and despite being on his back with Stiles straddling him, Derek felt strangely powerful, able to give Stiles something he obviously wanted so badly. “I’ll be disappointed if you don’t,” he said, trying to sound casual and probably failing miserably.
Stiles reached down and carded a hand through Derek’s hair, a gesture of such tenderness that it caught Derek square in the chest and tugged. “I don’t want to choke you,” Stiles said, his voice wavering but his cock hard and dripping and so close that Derek’s mouth was practically watering.
“Don’t worry about that,” Derek said, settling his hands firmly on Stiles’ hips. He regretted neglecting to tend so thoroughly to Stiles’ body the way Stiles had done to him, but Stiles was too far gone for that to be anything but torture right now. Besides, there would be time for that later. Derek would make time.
With a trembling hand, Stiles guided the tip of his dick into Derek’s open mouth, letting it rest heavy on his tongue for a moment. Just the small taste it afforded Derek made him moan – he hadn’t done this in so long, hadn’t always liked it, but he wanted it now.
Stiles let out a strangled sound as his hips stuttered into motion, thrusts guided by Derek’s hands. Derek had to strain his eyes up to be able to see Stiles’ face, but it was worth it. Enraptured was the only word that Derek could think of, the way Stiles’ eyes kept fluttering closed and his mouth moving around wordless sounds. Taking Stiles’ cock was easy: sucking on the outstroke, occasionally swirling his tongue, and exerting pressure on Stiles’ hips when he got close to pushing too deep.
Soon, Stiles’ ability to hold himself upright seemed to leave him and he curled his body over Derek, resting one forearm across the headboard and his head on his arm. With his other hand, he cradled Derek’s head – not pushing, just holding firm like he needed to touch Derek just as badly as he needed to thrust into Derek’s mouth.
It couldn’t have been very long before Stiles’ rhythm started to break down and he pushed forward to let Derek suck the orgasm right out of him. It felt so much like surrender that Derek felt a sharp, sweet pang in his chest again. This time, Stiles said Derek’s name, hushed and reverent, when he climaxed, and Derek drank him down eagerly, mouthing at him until Stiles started to shudder with too much stimulation.
For a moment, Derek was sure Stiles was just going to collapse on top of him, but he apparently had just enough energy left to pull himself away and swing a leg back over so he could slide bonelessly down next to Derek. After that, though, Derek was left to do the arranging: pulling the covers back up, manhandling Stiles a little until his head rested on Derek’s chest.
Stiles threw a limp arm across his waist and scooted closer. “Derek,” he said, stifling a yawn, “you need—?”
His hand started inching down Derek’s torso, but Derek took hold of it and brought it back up so Stiles’ arm was wrapped around his chest. “No. Not tonight.”
Stiles gave a weak little chuckle. “Good. ‘Cause I am legitimately about to pass out. I’ll owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Derek whispered into Stiles’ sweat-slick hair, kissing his scalp.
“Mmm, I owe you all kindsa things. Thank you cards and balloon animals and fireworks.”
Derek was about to say something unbearably cheesy about them making their own fireworks, and that’s when he knew he was completely gone. In way over his head. Probably had been since kissing Stiles that day on the beach, maybe even before. But the thought, as overwhelming as it was, didn’t scare him. It just felt like admitting the truth.
&&&
Laura would have made better choices as an alpha; Derek has come to terms with that. She might not have been able to prevent every death, but she would have been better at training her betas, fostering their loyalty, growing their pack instead of cobbling it together with little more than shared pain and feeble hope.
She would never have self-medicated to dull her own pain, and she certainly would never have done anything like this, getting involved with a high school boy, no matter how smart and selfless and devoted he was. She’d have warned Derek against it, especially if she’d known about Kate.
But Derek isn’t Laura, and he can’t try to do what he imagines she would have done because it’s not how he works. For whatever reason, he had to learn it the hard way before it stuck, had to make mistakes that hurt him and the people he loved. He knows he’ll make mistakes again, though hopefully not the same ones.
He also knows that if it weren’t for Stiles, for this obstinate, wiseass, beautiful boy who refused to let him self-destruct, everything would have fallen apart, starting with him. He has Stiles to thank not just for being alive, but fighting to stay that way.
The nightmares still come, he still wakes in fear, but now he has something – and someone – to wake up to.
End Notes: After the Alpha pack kills Erica and turns Boyd feral to make him kill Peter (the deaths are not described in detail), Derek begins using an unnamed intravenous drug to help him sleep without nightmares and becomes addicted to it. Stiles finds out and helps him recover.
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Date: 2013-08-07 06:09 am (UTC)I love you! Let's be best friends!
dammit
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Date: 2013-08-07 06:24 am (UTC)