Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11036805.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Erica_Reyes, Vernon_Boyd, Isaac_Lahey,
      Jackson_Whittemore
  Additional Tags:
      Tumblr_Prompt, Originally_Posted_on_Tumblr, fic_prompt, Romance, Comedy,
      Fluff, Fluff_and_Smut, Smut, Underage_Sex, Anal_Sex, Oral_Sex, Werewolf
      Biology, Virginity, Loss_of_Virginity, Stiles_Loses_His_Virginity, Virgin
      Stiles_Stilinski, Praise_Kink
  Series:
      Part 1 of Tumblr_Sterek_Prompts
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-30 Words: 2606
****** Consequences Be Damned ******
by MellytheHun
Summary
     Prompt: "YOU DID /WHAT/?"
Notes
     TW: Stiles is still 17 in this fic while Derek is in his early 20's,
     so there's an age gap. The sex is consensual (as much as it can be,
     while it would still be illegal in California) - my point being that
     there are no 'forced,' themes.
Derek walks into the loft where Erica, Boyd and Isaac are in different states
of relaxation across the couch. Isaac has his knees pulled up, his phone too
close to his face and he’s scrolling a lot (online shopping, most likely). Boyd
has a book open with one hand, his other arm draped over the back of the couch
and behind Erica’s shoulders.
Derek is bad at broaching topics gently.
Derek is bad at broaching topics altogether, really.
So, he decides that it would be best for everyone that he just announce what he
needs to. Rip it off like a band-aid.
He stands before his Pack, grimacing and none of them bother to look up at him.
He’d be offended by that if he weren’t grateful for the lack of eye-contact. He
crosses his arms, huffs anxiously, tilts his head back to look at the ceiling
for a beat, lolls his head forward again and states firmly,
“I fucked Stiles.”
“YOU DID WHAT?!” Isaac shouts, dropping his phone, unwinding his legs and
moving his body to better face Derek.
Erica immediately erupts into laughter and Boyd gives Derek a highly
disapproving face.
“Derek,” Boyd starts softly, “…what on God’s green Earth made you think that
was a good idea?”
Erica kicks her legs out like her body can’t even contain how much joy she’s
experiencing. She smacks Boyd’s chest and wheezes, “Boyd - Derek fucked
Stiles!” - and repeating the news sends her into a new cycle of obnoxious
laughter.
Derek pinches the bridge of his nose, his brows turning in as he sighs and
admits to Boyd, “it wasn’t something I exactly planned.”
Erica scrambles to the end of the couch closest to where Derek is standing and
begs him, “please tell me Stiles kissed you first. I need to know for my
health, Derek!”
He glares at her and says, “Erica, this is a serious problem.”
“Pfft! Serious doesn’t even begin to cover it!” Erica laughs out, “Are you
joking? McCall is going to have a conniption when he finds out! And he will
find out - Stiles is about as good at keeping shit to himself as you are at
apparently keeping it in your pants!”
Derek’s face falls, as if he hadn’t considered Scott inevitably finding out.
Boyd’s face only gets drier.
“Derek,” Boyd says tiredly, closing his book and putting it down onto the
coffee table.
“It wasn’t - I didn’t mean to,” Derek complains, immediately regretting his
choice of word.
“How do you not mean to fuck someone and wind up fucking them?” Isaac asks with
a sarcastic tone of curiosity.
Derek balls his hands into fists and, tired of being mocked, manages to
vocalize, “look, sometimes the animal part of me is a little stronger than the
rational part of me, okay?”
Boyd’s face turns to genuine intrigue, then.
“Is this… a werewolf thing?”
Derek looks at the floor, scratches his scruff.
“Partially.”
Erica is able to calm her giggles down enough to waggle her eyebrows at Derek
and ask in a forced, husky voice, “ooooh! Is it a mating thing? Did you fucking
mate yourself to Stiles?? Oh - Oh! Is it a territorial thing? Did you mark your
territory, Derek?”
Derek doesn’t even open his mouth to entertain her, which is fine and well
since she continues to entertain herself in a new wave of loud laughter anyway.
Isaac looks like he might be in physical pain when he asks, “Derek… is that… is
that really it?”
“He’s… look, I’m… being an Alpha…” Derek trails off, rubbing at his forehead
nervously.
Boyd stands up and walks over to him, puts a hand on his shoulder and says,
“fucking Stiles is going to have major, obnoxious consequences. But you
obviously already know that. So, what happened? Why did you sleep with Stiles?”
The change of phrase alters the tone of the conversation and Erica’s laughter
gradually dies down.
Derek looks into Boyd’s eyes and he is reminded of why he chose Boyd. His heart
softens a little and his defenses fall just enough.
“I wanted to,” Derek confesses lowly, “I wanted to and another part of me… a
more primitive part of me wanted to bed him.”
“His virginity? That’s what this was about?” Isaac asks from his space on the
couch.
Derek, maintaing eye-contact with Boyd answers, “yeah, in part. But… I want him
in our Pack.”
Erica stops wiping giddy tears from her eyes and her face falls. Isaac stares
seriously at Derek as well, waiting for the ‘why.’
Derek’s eyes move over their faces and land back on Boyd. And to Boyd’s waiting
stare, he answers, “I trust him.”
Derek hears how all of their hearts react to him saying that aloud. It makes
him feel not so alone in his troubled mind.
“I want him to trust me,” Derek elaborates, “I want him to choose me.”
“So, Alpha instincts are telling you to dominate territory, inner wolf is
telling you to bed the virgin and your human heart is getting overloaded with
feelings about trust for him and that resulted in you… fucking Stiles,” Isaac
reasons.
Derek nods and Boyd lets his hand fall from Derek’s shoulder.
“Trust is a pretty big thing. Especially for you.”
Derek’s chest feels tight and he’s not sure he wants to respond to that. But he
nods again anyway.
There are a few beats of silence where Erica watches Boyd’s back, Boyd looks
down at his crossed arms and Isaac rubs at his chin thoughtfully.
“If Stiles chooses you,” Isaac eventually offers, “Scott will undoubtedly
follow.”
Derek looks over to Isaac and the boy smiles at him.
“No doubt about it. If you tell Stiles you trust him… I don’t think a kid like
him could resist.”
“Yeah,” Erica adds, “Stiles has always been hungry for companionship.
Especially from people who aren’t usually inclined to give it.”
“Hearing that from you might honestly be enough for him to switch over,” Boyd
interjects, “We should wait for his next argument with Scott, though. With
Scott and Allison back together, that shouldn’t take long.”
Derek fights a smile, looking on his young Pack, all eager to help him, forming
plans on convincing Stiles to join them.
It feels good to Derek. They’re not plotting a murder, they’re not hunting any
monsters, they’re not planning battle strategies. They’re all just thinking of
a certain lanky, dangerously inquisitive teenager and how they might be able to
talk him into being part of their family.
Fucking Stiles had been a slow process, which is another reason Derek knows
this won’t just go away. There was no throwing him up against a wall and
plowing into him; it wasn’t a quick, angry fuck against a door. And, frankly,
Derek hadn’t wanted to be rough with Stiles.
He had been climbing through Stiles’ window, there to return a tattered jacket
Stiles had lost in their last scramble for their lives. He was still crouched
in the open window, jacket in hand when he kissed Stiles. The boy was just
standing there in front of him, close enough that Derek only had to lean
forward an inch or so to close the distance.
Maybe it had been the overpowering scent of Stiles in the room that went to his
head, maybe he was just feeling weak and tired from the past month of ire and
sleepless nights. He’s not sure what pushed him those few inches, but Stiles
eyes were warm and familial and his face looked soft, his body lax, even in
Derek’s presence.
Maybe that’s what did it.
Realizing that Stiles was certainly not scared of him anymore, because the
slope of his shoulders spoke of comfort and recognition.
‘Oh, my local surly werewolf is climbing up the side of my house again, I
should probably open the window to let him in.’
Who but Stiles could ever grow so comfortable around someone like Derek?
And for the first time in what felt like ages, Derek acted without thinking.
He just leaned in without a single word and kissed Stiles. He kissed Stiles
gently and when Stiles didn’t push him away, he kissed Stiles again and again
and again until he was positive those were Stiles’ lips moving back against
his. He kissed Stiles until their lips tingled and felt thick and heavy, he
licked Stiles’ bottom lip and Stiles moaned and that was where Derek met his
limitations.
He stepped into the room finally, he shut the window behind him and he
wordlessly undressed Stiles and their kisses became more frantic, more wanton
and Stiles’ noises grew louder and everything in Derek pounded like a drum.
Instincts that felt like an unfamiliar voice in his head chantedtake, take,
take.
And he did.
He laid Stiles down on his bed and he licked Stiles’ body until every freckled
limb quivered. He bit down on Stiles with human teeth, left a particularly dark
mark over Stiles’ jugular and raked just the tips of his fangs over Stiles'
sensitive nipples and spotted clavicle. Whenever Derek applied pressure on
Stiles' neck with his fangs (keeping his instincts to Bite in check - though
he's not sure how he did it), Stiles gasped and it was such a beautiful sound,
Derek kept at it until there was a deep bruise to mark the spot.
Stiles’ fingers combed through Derek’s hair and over his back and his blunt
nails raked down Derek’s arms and it was cathartic. He licked and bit his way
down Stiles' body, nipping at his hips, breathed in deeply at the light hairs
starting a bit below Stiles' visible ribs that bisected Stiles' torso,
eventually coming to a thickening below the 'v,' of Stiles' pelvis. He sucked
Stiles down patiently, licking broadly while he worked (properly lubricated)
fingers into him slowly and carefully, intermittently kissing his hipbones and
thighs, telling him how well he was doing, telling him how beautiful he looked.
(The praise seemed to embarrass Stiles as much as it turned him on.)
The pounding in Derek’s head left a lot of Stiles’ appreciative noises muted,
but feeling Stiles’ cock throb, feeling Stiles’ thighs tense, watching Stiles’
chest rise and fall with deep, shaking breaths - that was reward enough.
Stiles’ skin was blotchy pink from his cheeks to his chest and rubbing the pad
of his thumbs over Stiles’ pert nipples made him buck his hips involuntarily
and Derek would grin against Stiles’ skin for it.
Stiles made some sort of confused, flustered comment about Derek inhaling at
the crevice between his thigh and crotch, but Derek only hummed back at him.
Allowing his nose to rest in the curls there, breathe in this young, sweet musk
that’s been haunting him for months brought him some sort of clarity. It was
like instant meditation.
He worked Stiles open for close to half an hour on his small bed and when he
was finally able to slide into Stiles, there was an intimate moment where
Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist to drag him closer, the balls of
his heels sitting on the dimples of Derek's back - this moment where Stiles
curled his arms around Derek’s torso, his fingers sliding over the light sheen
of sweat there and looked into Derek's eyes.
Stiles was teary-eyed, but he certainly didn’t smell sad. He had glistening
bedroom eyes, half-lidded and Derek knew he was probably looking similarly.
There was a thick, thick layer of arousal, there was palpable joy and something
else that Derek couldn’t quite place. He kissed Stiles again without thinking
about it. He kissed Stiles and rested his lips against the corner of Stiles’
open mouth when Stiles could only gasp and groan Derek’s name.
He’s not entirely sure how Stiles was able to last that long. The ordeal all in
all was over an hour and Stiles somehow remained rock hard through it all and
only came once when Derek reached between them and stroked him in time with his
hips. To be fair, Stiles’ orgasm was long and intense when it overcame him.
Stiles clenching around him during his own orgasm forced Derek to come, despite
hoping he could somehow drag it on forever.
Stiles invited him to shower alongside him afterward and Derek did. It was
quiet, but not uncomfortable. Then Stiles held his hand, guiding him back into
the bedroom and dragged him under the covers of his bed, apparently unwilling
to let him leave. He had said, “you don’t have to be here when I wake up. Just
wait until I fall asleep. Please.”
Derek kissed his neck, his cheek, his temple and then curled up closely to him,
making it clear he planned to get comfortable and stay. He pet Stiles’ hair
gently until Stiles fell asleep and even once he was asleep, Derek decided he
sort of liked the sensation of Stiles’ buzz cut against the tips of his
fingers. He stayed longer than he needed to and what scared him more than his
strong desire to stay long past morning, what worried him beyond the calm
settled in his chest by feeling connected to Stiles intimately, what frightened
him beyond all reason was that he wasn’t satisfied.
All he could think of was that once would never be enough. Bedding Stiles did
not quench his thirst in the least and having touched Stiles now only fueled
the fire in him burning to touch him more, to kiss him more and have him again
and again with no satiation in sight.
“Hey - Earth to Derek, you there?”
Derek blinked up at Erica waving a hand in front of his eyes.
“What, all this feelings-talk got you freaked out?”
Derek doesn’t agree, exactly, but he doesn’t deny it either. She smiles at him
sympathetically.
“We’ll keep tabs on Stiles and we’ll tell you when the time is right.”
Derek nods and while Isaac, Boyd and Erica look up at him, he feels stronger.
More sure. More determined. He would pledge undying loyalty to Scott if it
meant having Stiles be a part of his Pack. He would do just about anything for
Stiles now. He’s in deeper than he knew he could possibly be.
And he’s actually quite excited about that.
It’s at that moment that Jackson enters the loft, takes one look at them all
and sighs loudly, “do I want to know?”
“Derek fucked Stiles,” Isaac proclaims, a heavy implication of ‘this has been a
long day,’ behind it.
“I never had Derek pegged for a strategic genius or anything, but fucking the
Sheriff’s underage son is a whole new level of thoughtless.”
At the sound of Derek’s panicked heart, Erica crumbles into laughter again and
Boyd and Isaac exchange a glance, silently wondering how in the hell Derek
managed to have sex with Stiles without thinking of any of the multiple,
terrible and inevitable consequences.
Derek runs his hands over his hair anxiously and Jackson shouts at him for
being idiotic, how could he not remember Stiles’ father?? What was he
thinking?? And why Stiles???
Derek endures another two hours of Erica’s laughter, Isaac’s pained face,
Boyd’s unreadable eyes and Jackson’s loud, judgmental shouting before he is
relieved by a text.
Stiles: you should come over tomorrow night.
The buzz of the phone quiets Jackson for a second, although he is still irate
and the Pack is watching Derek closely as he picks up his phone. His lips
threaten to curl into a smile, a warmth spreads over his chest and into his
stomach despite the eyes on him.
He doesn’t even hesitate.
Derek: I’ll be there.
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