Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6977056.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Chris_Argent/Peter_Hale, Chris_Argent/Stiles
      Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale, Chris_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Alpha_Derek, Mutual_Pining, Minor_Chirs_Argent/Stiles_Stilinski
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-26 Words: 2289
****** Even Werewolves Have Feelings ******
by bistiles_bilinski
Notes
     This is.....not what I thought it was going to be?? I had a
     completely different idea for this and then it just decided to write
     itself and so I went with it.
     Not 100% sure what the title has to do with this fic, but it just
     wouldn't leave me alone...so yeah...
     Tagged as underage because of Chris and Stiles, but their
     relationship isn't like a HUGE deal???
See the end of the work for more notes
Stiles smiled as he left the driveway, finally something was worth being happy
about. He ached in all the right places and his mouth was still tingling from
the rough kisses he'd shared. His phone beeped beside him and he glanced at the
text from Scott.
Derek’s loft, ASAP! was all it said.
By the time he rolled into the parking lot, he’d mostly managed to keep the
dopey smile from disfiguring his face too much and keep his heartbeat to a
semi-normal pace.
He opened Derek’s door and shouted out a loud, “what's the problem now
furballs?”, before he was met with a pair of angry red eyes.
“Whoa, calm down big guy!” Stiles said, holding his arms up and chuckling. “Who
poured wolfsbane in your cereal?”
Derek shook his head and blinked a few times, the red slowly faded and his
claws retracted. “Nothing,” he answered through gritted teeth. “I thought I
heard something.”
Stiles was distracted with highly doubting ole sour pants that he didn't hear
the loft door being pushed open again. His head nearly swung off it's hinges
when he heard a deep voice say, “Sorry, I got held up. Came as quick as I
could.”
Chris stood, a t-shirt clinging to the muscle on his chest, a smile stretched
across his face, and that was definitely Derek growling in his ear.
“So,” Stiles said, way too loud, “what's the problem? It must be pretty bad,
you called an Argent.”
Derek snapped his eyes to Stiles and snapped a quick, “You don't have to remind
me.”
“Riiiight...I'm just gonna ask Scotty, huh?” With a slap to Derek’s shoulder,
Stiles walked through the loft to the kitchen. “What the fuck is going on with
him?”
Lydia didn't bother looking up from her laptop in front of her as she said,
“Why don't you tell us? He was fine till you walked in the door.”
Which, ouch. Salt in the wound and all that. He knew Derek didn't like him,
knew he probably never would, but he didn't need to be reminded of it. “So,
we'll just blame it on Scott? He's the one that told me to come over.”
“Only because Derek said to- Oof!” Isaac took a beating from Erica’s elbow
before she smiled sweetly and went back to staring at her phone screen.
Derek and Chris walked into the kitchen, Chris wearing an uneasy look and Derek
looking like he was braced for a fight.
“Is
someone
 going to tell me why I'm here, because I had some very specific plans for this
evening.”
“A rival pack, they're breaking a treaty formed between them and my family
years ago.” Derek sounded like he'd rather be eating glass than talking at the
moment. “We need to find it before it turns into an all out war. We're a small
pack, just starting and I'm not sure we can survive that.”
“And I'm not at home right now playing Call Of Duty because…?”
“We need everyone trying to find the original agreement.” Derek’s eyes pierced
right through Stiles as he spoke, sending chills up his spine. “Almost
everything burned in the fire, but I still have a few things we can look
through and there's a chance we might be able to find something on the
Internet.”
“Which is something I can do at home,” Stiles said, backing towards the door.
“I'll nose around online, see what I can find.”
He walked for the door, the sounds of conversation started to rise throughout
the empty loft and an unexplainable ache burned in Stiles’ chest. He'd just
made it to his Jeep when he heard Chris calling his name.
He turned as Chris got closer and smiled, “What's up Mr. Argent?”
“What the hell was going on in there?” he asked, throwing his thumb over his
shoulder.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Stiles said with a shrug. Then added, “Was
that all you needed Mr. Argent?”
He watched as Chris took a step closer and another, until he had Stiles crowded
against the Jeep’s driver's side. He leaned in and whispered, lips brushing
against Stiles’ ear, “I could think of something else.”
Stiles’ hands automatically groped for Chris's ass pulling him closer to his
body as he chuckled breathlessly. “Sure you're up for that Mr. Argent? I hear
on good authority that you've been pretty busy tonight.”
Chris nipped at the soft skin of Stiles’ neck before saying, “You never know,
I've got someone that revs my engine pretty good.”
Stiles lifted his face until Chris closed the gap between their lips, while
Stiles pulled him tighter to his body. Their dicks slid together as Stiles
rutted against him, moaning into Chris’s mouth and kissing him harder.
“Stiles,” Chris said, pulling away slightly. “I refuse to come in my pants like
a twelve year old who just saw his first set of boobs.”
Stiles let out a whine as his hands went to the belt of Chris’s pants, “What if
you came in my mouth instead?” He waggled his eyebrows and attempted to undo
the belt.
Chris’s eyes shone hot, but he batted Stiles’s hands away and shook his head.
“Not in a parking lot Stiles, you're not a hooker working a street corner.”
Speechless, Stiles let his hands fall away and he tried to turn away, but Chris
caught his arm and shook his head with a laugh. “I don't want you here, I want
you laid out on my bed and begging for me to just fuck you already.”  Chris’s
fingers drew a pattern out on Stiles’s cheek as he spoke, and Stiles let
himself enjoy it.
“Your dad's working all night, come stay at mine.”
“But Alison-”
“Is staying the night at Lydia’s no doubt. What do you say?”
“Yeah,” Stiles said, grasping Chris’s wrist and dragging him closer by the
waist.
They kissed, Chris working his tongue in as a promise for later. Stiles
couldn't wait.
♦
Head pillowed on Chris’s chest, Stiles stared out the window. He liked Chris,
what they had going on was amazing, but he'd gone into it hoping he'd forget a
certain brooding werewolf with caterpillar eyebrows and a perpetually grumpy
attitude. He'd been stupid for ever thinking that could happen.
Chris stirred underneath his fingers, before bringing an arm up to drape across
Stiles’ shoulders. “What's the matter?” he asked, eyes still closed and voice
rough from sleep.
Dragging his fingers through the hair on Chris’s chest, he shook his head and
said, “Nothing, why?”
There was a chuckle before he said,  “Stiles, you're never this quiet.”
With a playful swat, Stiles pushed up and scoffed, “You can say bye-bye to your
booty call, buddy.”
Chris pulled him back down and kissed him hard, making Stiles moan and push
their hips together. “Nevermind,” he mumbled between their lips, “I'm not going
anywhere.”
He kissed the smirk away and gripped the hard dicks between them. “You say that
now,” Chris said, biting back a moan.
Stiles pulled back and stared down at Chris’s pleasure struck face and asked
breathlessly, “What do you mean?”
Chris tried to pull him closer again, but Stiles held his ground above him,
shaking his head. “God,” the older man muttered. “I just mean that eventually
you’re going to find someone your own age that you’re going to like fucking
around with more than me. Or I’m going to find someone that isn’t in high
school and friends with my daughter.”
“Is that what’s tripping you up, Christopher? Me being friends with Allison?”
Stiles asked, dropping to his elbow beside him.
“No, I just think that you’re going to find someone you don’t have to hide
someday.” Then, more to himself, said, “Probably sooner than you think.”
“What the hell are you talking about now, Chris?” Stiles asked as he threw his
body down to the bed and tossed an arm over his face.
“I just mean that Derek is probably going to make his move sometime soon
and….Stiles why are you laughing?”
“Because,” he dragged in a long breath and gasped out, “it’s hilarious that you
actually think Derek has some kind of complicated werewolf feelings for me!”
Saying it out loud just made him laugh harder.
Chris just smiled softly and said, “You really are an idiot.”
♦
Stiles dragged his ass up to his room the next morning fully intending on
collapsing on his bed and trying to make up for some of the sleep he missed
when Chris was fucking his brains out through his dick. That didn't happen.
He’d just barely gotten the door closed before he was being pressed against it
by an unknown presence that could only be Derek.
He closed his eyes as he heaved a sigh and asked, “Can I help you?”
“You smell like Argent,” the words were growled into his neck and yeah,
definitely Derek.
He wasn’t really planning on having this particular conversation with anyone,
least of all the reason he’d started fooling around with Chris, so soon and he
couldn’t help but sigh again. “That tends to happen when you're fucking
someone.” Derek pushed him harder into the door and Stiles sucked in a sharp
breath. “God, what is your problem?”
“I wanted to talk to you last night,” Stiles didn't know how Derek could
possibly press himself any closer, but he managed it, “I waited for you to come
home.”
Stiles swallowed hard and knew Derek could hear how rapidly his heart was
beating. “I stayed with Chris.”
Derek gripped him by the shoulders and flipped him around, pushing their fronts
together and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to hide that. Derek
either didn't notice or didn't care as he pinned Stiles’ hips down and growled
in his ear, “Why?”
“You really need me to answer that?” Stiles asked, struggling under Derek’s
grip.
There was an inhuman growl before a tongue was pushing into his mouth and hands
sliding up his shirt. He let out a surprised squeak before wrapping his arms
around Derek’s shoulders and pulling him in even closer.
It wasn't long until he was being hoisted up and his legs were wrapping
effortlessly around Derek’s hips. “Can smell him on you all the time.” The
words were breathed hot against his neck and made him shiver.
“Only with him cause you wouldn't ever fucking look at me!” He tugged on the
hair at the back of Derek’s neck until his glowing eyes met Stiles’.
“I was always look at you.” Derek dropped him onto the bed and crawled over
him. “You make it hard not to, the way you trip when you walk into a room is
hard to miss.”
Derek split his shirt down the middle and yanked it off his body with a low
growl, before his eyes raked over every mark Chris had left on his torso. Those
blood red eyes found his again and he couldn't help but shiver.
Warm lips lowered to his stomach and he arched into their heat as they made a
trail up to his chest and finally to his neck. The sharp sting of teeth made
him gasp and pull Derek’s body tighter to his own with a moan.
The hand brushing over the bulge in his jeans was a nice distraction from how
his neck had become a werewolf chew toy and slipped the tips of his fingers
under Derek’s shirt in a completely too subtle gesture to get the fucking thing
off.
He tugged and pulled as Derek worked his belt, button, and zipper before he
finally took the hint and pulled the damn shirt off and suddenly it was naked
chests pressed together and Derek pulling his pants down and away.
It didn't take Derek long to shed the remainder of his clothing and then it was
just heat and mouths and teeth and before he knew it Derek was sliding in and
Stiles was gasping against his shoulder while he wrapped his legs around
Derek’s waist.
Derek kept murmuring things into his ear about how long he'd waited (ha, how
long he'd waited) and how good Stiles felt. How Chris was going to ‘fucking
know not to lay another fucking finger on you’ and that he loved the way Stiles
smelled. (That one made Stiles laugh which quickly died into breathless
panting.)
When Derek finally slumped on top of Stiles, too satisfied to do nothing more
than nibble at his neck while Stiles ran his fingers through the soft strands
at the back of his head, he asked, “Are you going to keep seeing Chris?”
Stiles let out a little laugh and shook his head, which just made Derek growl
in frustration and bite harder. “Nah, I think I might be otherwise engaged.”
Derek smirked against his skin and shoved his face further into Stiles’ neck.
♦
The next time Stiles saw Chris was after the pack had run the strangers out of
their land. There had been a phone call and Chris had been the first to say he
might have met someon. Stiles had smiled into the receiver and said he might
have to. He never would have thought he'd see Chris at the bar in the loft with
 Peter Hale draped across his back, idly running his fingers across Chris’s
chest.
“Guess we both were just waiting for someone to get their head out of their
ass,” he said, wrapping long fingers around Peter’s wrist.
“Hmm?” Peter wondered, lazily flipping the paper over when he realized Chris
wasn't going to.
"Nothing," Chris said, winking at Stiles as Derek came out of their bedroom in
his boxers and bed head, rubbing at his eyes.
End Notes
     As always, comments and kudos will make me want to throw rainbows and
     cinnamon rolls and everything delicious at your face. Also, i have
     this little thing called tumblr??? It sucks your life away??? You
     could come say hi???
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