Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/656034.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Sheriff_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Knotting, Knotting_Dildos, Slight_D/s_Dynamics, Bottom!Stiles, Top!Derek,
      Masturbation, Mild_underage
  Series:
      Part 1 of A_Thing
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-01-26 Words: 4126
****** Definitely a Thing ******
by Reia
Summary
     Scott gets bitten by a werewolf, of all things, and Stiles has a
     short, fleeting thought of 'Wonder if he has a knot now' before his
     world goes topsy-turvy and all he can think about is survival.
Notes
     I don't even know how or why this came about. One day my brain just
     decided knotting and this pretty much wrote itself over the course of
     a few hours last night.
     shiny_starlight is to blame, just as she is to blame for everything
     that goes on in my head that's Teen Wolf related.
     For clearer warnings, please check the notes at the end of the fic.
      
     =====================================================================
      
See the end of the work for more notes
The first time it happens Stiles is fourteen years old and already very well
acquainted with his cock. He's home alone for the fourth time that week, his
dad at work on an all-nighter and Scott grounded for not keeping his grades up,
and he's bored out of his mind. It's a Thursday and he's done all his homework
- finished it at school during a free period - and the television is just
boring repeat after boring repeat. His hand is sticky with a combination of
fidgeting induced sweat and residue from the candy he'd been eating before
flopping down on the sofa.
He's stopped flipping the channels and somehow he ends up watching a
documentary on wolf mating habits. It's dry and boring but what catches his
attention, once he's realized that he's actually paying attention, is the guy
on the screen. This isn't knew and isn't something that freaks him out. After
all, the first time Stiles had realized he was as attracted to boys as well as
girls he'd been in sixth grade gym staring stupidly as Jackson Whittemore had
pulled his shirt off to reveal a rather impressive body. It was also the first
time Jackson had paid him any attention and therefore had served as the
catalyst for their rather tumultuous affiliation.
But that's neither here nor there as all Stiles can currently think about is
how it would feel to lick into the show-host's mouth. From what Stiles can tell
he's probably in his mid-twenties or so, seems to have a decent enough body,
and a pretty appealing face. And sure, if Stiles were going to be honest with
himself, he'd even say the guy was hot. He's still paying attention, but mostly
he's imagining what it would feel like to be pinned down by someone bigger and
stronger than himself. Possibly someone as built as the guy on the screen.
Stiles shifts and lets out a soft gasp when he realizes he's hard, because
while he's very well acquainted with his cock, it still tends to surprise him
at times. Like now. He closes his eyes and rests a the heel of his hand against
his erection, pressing down on it and letting the voice from the television
sweep over him, the guy's softly accented tones talking about wolves and mating
and yeah, Stiles would definitely like to have that guy whispering dirty, dirty
words in his ear.
It doesn't take long for him to groan in frustration and quickly open his jeans
up, pushing his boxers out of the way to pull his cock out. He still has his
eyes closed, the world around him blurring as pleasure builds up in his body,
his back arching and his other hand reaching further down to fondle his balls.
The show-host is still talking and Stiles concentrates on his voice, his words,
in an attempt to stave off his impending orgasm. The guy is going on about
something, Stiles isn't really sure, the words wrapping around him, when
suddenly he comes, cock jerking in his hand and mouth stretched opened in a
quiet shout of surprise.
Never before has he had such a strong orgasm and he comes down slowly, bit by
bit, his hand still wrapped around his cock and t-shirt splattered with come.
Stiles blinks a few times before pulling his hand away and sighing softly in
annoyance. The orgasm had felt great but he'd really wanted it to last longer,
not that he's complaining. He's not, he really isn't. It's just that longer
would have been nicer. With a huff of annoyance he reaches out with his clean
hand to turn off the television and tucks himself back in before getting up and
heading upstairs.
About an hour later, once he's finally in bed and on the verge of sleep, Stiles
realizes that he had come right when the show-host had started describing
knotting.
 
                                       *
 
For the next few weeks he refuses to think about it. Nothing to worry about,
just a fluke of underused teenage hormones and masturbating, that's all. Stiles
continues about with his life, going to school and hanging out with Scott and
making sure his dad eats the right amount of the healthy stuff.
Then one night he's surfing the net for porn, having bypassed the flimsy
firewalls the tech company had set up for his dad, and not really finding
anything interesting. He clicks on link after link, speeding through pages with
glazed over eyes. A video comes up on his screen and he clicks on the play
button with half-hearted interest. A couple are in bed, making out with the
usual fake moans and sighs of free internet porn, and Stiles is about to stop
the video and give up on finding anything when one of the guys on the screen
takes out an odd looking dildo.
It takes a few seconds, a few long and erection inducing seconds, for him to
actually understand what's going on. And when it hits him he doubles over with
a groan, his hand immediately flying to the buttons on his jeans and furiously
working them open. His other hand is pressed against his forehead and Stiles
stares blankly at the screen as the plot-less video continues, the two guys
smearing themselves with lube as the dildo is worked into the smaller guy, the
thick dark blue length of it disappearing bit by bit.
Stiles bites his lip and squeezes his cock hard in a desperate attempt to keep
himself from coming too soon, his eyes completely riveted on what he's
watching. The larger guy stops pushing at the dildo and says something cheesy
that doesn't really register for Stiles, his partner nodding before slowly
turning around and getting on his hands and knees. With the new position Stiles
has a better view of the dildo in the guy's ass and he moans, his hand
furiously working itself on his cock, pleasure shooting through every nerve in
his body.
The big guy, definitely the dom and that's something that Stiles still isn't
ready to come to terms with just yet, grips the end of the dildo and twists it,
slowly pushing the large rounded part into the smaller guy's ass. It's
fascinating to watch how tightly stretched the guy is and his moans turn into
something more real as more and more is pushed in until, with a final pop, the
knot of the dildo is gone from view. It's that sound, more than anything, that
sets Stiles off and he comes hard, his hand jerking up and down roughly as he
watches the dildo twisted and rotated slightly in the guy's ass.
By the time the video is over Stiles has come two more times and his arm hurts
from how fast and hard he'd been getting himself off, his sleep shirt covered
in come as well as his boxers and the edge of his desk. He slumps back in his
chair and sighs dejectedly.
So it turns out that this is definitely a thing for him.
 
                                       *
 
The thing is, he's not into dogs. Not at all. He finds this out after another
couple weeks of watching endless free porn videos and desperately getting off
when finding something that really just turns him on. There had also been that
incident that could have been more of an awkward event, where he'd been
watching with disgusted interest as some guy got fucked by a dog and his dad
had come into his room without knocking. Thankfully Stiles'd had the foresight
to wear headphones and his dad had been distracted by the mess that was his
room, giving him enough time to hastily close the browser tab.
So, not into dogs.
What he is into is knotting. He finds porn of guys fucking each other with
dildos just like the one in the first video, and watches them avidly, imagining
how it would feel to have something so large inside of him. It's distracting
and scary and he wonders if there's something wrong with him for it.
 
                                       *
 
Scott gets bitten by a werewolf, of all things, and Stiles has a short,
fleeting thought of 'Wonder if he has a knot now' before his world goes topsy-
turvy and all he can think about is survival.
 
                                       *
 
It turns out that Scott doesn't have a knot, not as far as Stiles can tell. And
he's heard enough of Scott and Allison's sex life to know that so far, no knot.
He's not really sure if he should be relieved or disappointed.
 
                                       *
 
Over the years Stiles has learned to deal with his particular kinks, both the
knotting and the wanting to submit. Mostly it's all denial, denial, denial and
on the occasions when he lets himself give in to the fantasy, it's about making
sure no one ever finds out. When he hits eighteen, however, he gives in to
temptation and, using his shiny new 'only for emergencies' credit card, orders
himself a dildo over the internet.
As promised it arrives less than a week later in a discreet package and a
simple note on his statement saying nothing more than The Procatechesis or
Prologue to the Catechetical Lectures, which gets him a raised eyebrow from his
dad when Stiles promises to pay the eighty dollars, it's just that it was so
interesting and he'd been able to read an excerpt and his dad walks away with
shaking shoulders as he laughs softly, ignoring the rest of what Stiles has to
say.
When he opens the package, late at night while his dad is off on another all-
nighter and Scott is busy with Allison and the pack is just not bothering him
for once, he can only stare at it, heart racing as he reaches out a hand to
touch. It's rubber, silky against his fingers, and semi hard, the knot a gentle
bulge at the base. The red color is bright against the brown packaging and he
flushes as he remembers not even thinking of it when he'd placed the order.
Picking it up sends his heart into overdrive and it takes him a few long
moments to really look at it instead of staring at it absently.
The first time he uses it he can't bring himself to push the knot all the way
in because it kind of hurts and sure, he's pushed his fingers into his ass
quite a bit, he is a horny teenage boy after all, but it's so much bigger than
he'd expected. Each time after that he gets braver and braver, fucking himself
hard and coming with a loud moan that he's sure all of Beacon Hills can hear,
hand working over his cock furiously to draw out the sensation for as long as
possible.
The first time he gets the knot completely in Stiles lays shaking on his bed,
hands gripping the bed sheets and breaths coming in short, jerky gasps as he
ruts against his bed sheets, no thought left in his overheated brain aside from
the sudden and urgent need to come.
 
                                       *
 
It isn't until two years into college and several crazy roommates later that
Stiles learns that werewolves actually do have knots.
 
                                       *
 
Scott calls him up, breathing harshly over the line and immediately launching
into a complaint about Derek and what an ass he is and why couldn't he have
told Scott this sooner and Allison is going to freak out, he's so, so dead.
Eventually Stiles manages to calm him down and after a few promises to never
speak of this to anyone ever again, Scott relays the story. Something about
mating and babies and marriage and wait, what?
When Scott hangs up an hour later, Stiles is gripping the phone hard, the
plastic creaking slightly in his hand, and all he can think about is Derek has
a knot.
 
                                       *
 
He doesn't actually see Derek that much these days, the pack spread out over
the country for college, Stiles himself down at Stanford, and the last time had
been over Thanksgiving. So when winter break comes along and he's home,
unpacking, and he realizes he's going to be seeing Derek, Stiles has a bit of a
fit. This is mostly due to the fact that he's brought his dildo with him and
all he can think about, as he's done for the past few weeks, is Derek has a
knot.
 
                                       *
 
Derek shows up later that evening, all smiles and good humor, giving Stiles'
dad an expensive bottle of wine and asking about someone at the station.
Stiles' stays rooted to his spot at the top of the stairs, his heart rate
skyrocketing and sweat breaking out over his brow. This is so stupid and he
can't believe he's acting like this, because for fuck's sake, it's Derek.
Then again, it's because it's Derek that he's acting like this. He's had a
pretty hard crush on the guy, once they'd gotten over the whole craziness of
werewolves and hunters and defying death at every turn and had actually formed
a pack, Derek hadn't been so bad. Plus, Stiles had learned to live with said
crush long ago. Except now that he's looking down at Derek his mind keeps
whirling around that same persistent thought and he remembers how he spent
quite a few nights last week moaning Derek's name into his pillow, dildo buried
deep in his ass.
His dad calls him down and his body moves without permission, legs trembling
more and more the closer he comes to Derek. When he reaches them Derek turns
and his easy going smile freezes on his face, nostrils flaring, and eyes
flashing red. Stiles knows that he's been found out, part way at least, and
it's not fair that after so many years of quiet pining Derek knows.
Dinner is an awkward affair, to say the least.
 
                                       *
 
Stiles escapes as soon as possible, giving his dad a half smile and waving
stiltedly at Derek before running up the stairs to his room. It's ridiculous
that he feels all of sixteen years old and virginal around the guy. Because
he's definitely not either. He's had a few boyfriends, and girlfriends, and has
more than enough experience with the whole sex thing that seeing Derek's eyes
crinkle at the corners or his lips close around a spoon should not have him
acting like an idiot. He flops down on his bed and lets out a gusty breath of
air, his lungs emptying before he gulps and takes a harsh breath in.
Downstairs his dad and Derek are talking, Derek saying he's going to head home
to check on a new beta and his dad picking up his keys to head out for a late
movie and beer night with his pals from the station.
After well over an hour has passed he sits up in bed and quickly pulls his
clothes off, hands fumbling for the dildo, which he'd hidden in a drawer in his
nightstand, and the bottle of lube lying next to it. His fingers are shaking as
he pours lube over them and he reaches back to work himself opening, body
thrumming with held back lust and desire. Stiles thinks about Derek, as he so
often does, and moans into his pillow, biting the fabric of the pillow case as
he quickly pushes another and then a third finger in his ass.
When he can hold off no more he reaches for the dildo, his slicked hand sliding
over it before he can get a good grip, and then getting into position on all
fours. He's just gotten the knot pushed in, that achy pleasure he loves so much
sparking all over his skin, when the window to his room opens with a quiet
snick. Stiles knows that it's Derek without having to look and he whines low in
his throat, head hanging down and hips bucking into the air.
There's absolute silence from behind him and his arms start shaking with the
effort of holding himself so still. Then a swish of fabric, a low growl, and
Derek is right there, pressed against Stiles' side and hands sliding over his
sweaty skin in a possessive glide. He moans again, louder, and tilts his head
to the side, crying out when Derek's still human teeth sink into his skin.
A hand brushes over his ass and fingers prod at the dildo, tugging lightly and
then a little harder when it doesn't immediately come out. Seconds pass and
Derek growls again, louder and longer, before pulling away from Stiles. He
can't bring himself to look back so he stays where he is, waiting and shaking.
When Derek presses against him again, he's sans clothes and all snarling words,
moving Stiles until he's positioned just as Derek wants him.
"Had I known that this would be the result, I'd have told Scott about knotting
ages ago." Derek's voice is low, throaty and shot through in a way that Stiles
has never heard before. Pressed back to front, he can feel the low vibrations
of the words against his spine, goose bumps breaking out over his skin. "I'm
going to fuck you, Stiles. Then I'm going to knot you."
All Stiles can do is let out another whine, his body shut down and brain
melting under the onslaught of Derek and too much and finally.
Derek's hand moves down his side and over the curve of his ass, fingers rubbing
at the stretched skin of his hole. Without warning the dildo is pulled out,
popping lightly as his body lets the knot go and eliciting a high cry from
Stiles, cock pulsing as he comes. He's moved again, body still trembling with
the aftershocks from his orgasm, so that he's still on his knees, legs spread
wide around Derek's and bent only slightly forward, Derek's strong arm across
his chest holding him up.
Something nudges at him and he moans, hand reaching back and gripping tightly
at Derek's bicep. "Please." The word is nothing more than a breathy sound,
punched out of him by the sheer force of his need.
He doesn't get a response before Derek starts to slowly push his cock in, one
arm around Stiles' chest, his other gripping one of Stiles' knees and spreading
his legs even more. It's thick, making Stiles groan and arch his back, pushing
down and wanting more. Derek pulls out slightly before pushing in again,
shallow thrusts that turn harder and faster the more of his cock he gets into
Stiles. When Derek stops, fully seated and balls pressing against the too hot
skin of Stiles' ass, Stiles shakes his head and tightens the grip he has on
Derek, arm aching from the position and nails digging in.
It's enough to get Derek moving again, harsh snaps of his hips against Stiles,
hands holding him tight, and teeth biting at his neck and back. Stiles lets his
body move along with Derek's, air bursting out of him with each thrust and
gasping as he tries to breathe more in. He really can't think, mind blown
beyond all reason, and nerves singing with sensation. When he reaches down to
wrap a hand around his own cock, a vibrating growl against his neck stops him
and he redirects his hand, pressing against the meat of Derek's thigh and using
the leverage to push back.
They stay like that for what feels like too long and not anywhere near long
enough, their movements making the headboard knock against the wall, knick
knacks falling to the floor and bed. Suddenly Derek is pushing him down,
pressing until Stiles' shoulders are on the bed, neck at an awkward angle as
Derek's hands take hold of his hips and tighten. It hurts and he knows he'll
have bruises tomorrow but he doesn't care. All he cares about is how Derek is
moving faster, hips snapping against Stiles' and sending fissures of
pleasurable pain down his spine and pooling at the pit of his stomach.
Derek snarls a word that Stiles can't understand and then gives one last deep
thrust before holding still, claws out and cutting into Stiles' skin as he
gives one shudder, two, and then Stiles feels it. He lets out a strangled sound
and wriggles against the bed, not knowing if he should push back or pull away,
the sudden sensation of Derek's knot growing inside him making him lightheaded
and delirious. One hand pushes against the headboard and the other reaches back
to grip at Derek, any bit of him that he can reach.
It's too much, way bigger than his dildo and so much more than what he could
have imagined. Stiles shakes his head and breathes out with shaky gasps of air,
his lungs seemingly working at only half capacity. Just when he feels that he
can't take more, that he's going to tear apart, the knot stops growing and
Derek starts moving again, slow thrusts that have the knot pulling at his skin.
Stiles isn't sure how much more he can take and just when he's about to beg for
more, the tight pressure of the knot brushes over his prostrate and he screams,
vision whiting out and cock still hard even as he comes down from his second
orgasm.
With a grunt, Derek pulls him up and keeps moving against Stiles, even as
they're pressed back to front again, Stiles loose-limbed and pliant in his
arms. Something warm fills him and Stiles lets out a soft 'oh' when he realizes
that Derek's finally coming. A hand wraps around his cock and pumps, fist tight
and demanding as another orgasm is wrangled from his wrecked body.
Moments later he's moved again, this time so that he and Derek are on their
sides, Derek wrapped possessively around him and still locked together. Stiles
still can't quite believe what's happened, his body high on an overdose of
endorphins, and pretty soon he falls asleep.
 
                                       *
 
He wakes up to a still dark sky and Derek pressing him down against the bed,
his too hot body almost more than Stiles can bear; chest sticky from where his
come has soaked into the sheets. When he tries to move away, because, hey, he
really has to take a piss, Derek growls and tightens the hold his arm has
around Stiles' waist. Before he can protest Derek has shifted up, hand pressing
against the nape of his neck, lips sliding across skin.
That's when Stiles realizes that Derek is still inside him and is slowly
growing harder, hips shifting as he snuffles against the wet and heated skin of
Stiles' back. He really has to go and he tries to say something but can't
because he's suddenly being fucked to within an inch of his life, body sliding
across the sheets and hands clenching his pillow. It's nothing more than
desperate rutting, though much less frenzied than before, and then Derek is
stilling again, knot growing and making Stiles cry out.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that they need to talk about this
but he can't concentrate on anything other than the fact that Derek is tied to
him once again, filling him, biting at his neck and shoulders, muttering the
word mine over and over again.
 
                                       *
 
What seems like hours later, Derek finally lets him up, eyes tinted red and
teeth nipping at Stiles' lip and drawing blood before letting him go. As he
finally reaches the bathroom and is able to relieve himself, the sensation is
so overwhelming that his knees almost buckle under him and he has to slam a
hand on the wall to keep from falling over. A noise at the door has him looking
up and it's to find Derek leaning against the door frame with a satisfied, smug
look on his face.
The way he's watching Stiles, like what happened before was only a pre-cursor,
sends shivers down Stiles' back and he looks away, stepping away from the
toilet after flushing it. He's barely taken a second step before Derek is
crowding him against the wall and pressing his nose against the crook of
Stiles' neck, a satisfied rumble coming from deep within him. Derek pulls away
and smirks at him before turning Stiles around and pulling one of his legs up,
his already hard cock pushing and sliding in so easily.
"Derek - " He barely gets the word out before Derek is fucking him hard,
fingers digging into his thigh and breaths harsh against Stiles' skin. His eyes
roll back and he arches his back, more than willing to take everything that
Derek can give.
 
                                       *
 
They do eventually talk about it, as much as Derek will talk about anything.
 
End Notes
     Please note that at the beginning of this fic, Stiles is fourteen.
     This means that there are depictions of a horny fourteen year old
     masturbating.
     There is also an instant that could be taken as mild-dub-con, it
     isn't. It's mostly Stiles being horny and submissive.
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