Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1098723.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale_&_Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Sheriff_Stilinski, Laura_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      The_Hale_Family, Christmas_Eve, Claudia_Stilinski_Memories, First_Time,
      First_Kiss, Loss_of_Virginity, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Underage_Sex,
      Knotting, Angst_and_Porn, Choose_Your_Own_Ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-12-24 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 15263
****** Ghosts of Christmas Past. ******
by devilscut
Summary
     Christmas Eve and Derek's at the Stilinski house after receiving a
     text from Stiles to meet him there urgently. He finds the teenager
     asleep under the Christmas tree and on waking him up he discovers
     that Stiles has found a huge missing part of Derek's past and a
     loving reminder of the Hale Family. The resulting emotional upheaval
     leads to revelations between the Alpha and his teenage pack member
     which leads to kissing and touching..
     Christmas morning the Sheriff finishes his shift but what he finds
     beneath the Christmas tree is the last thing he ever expected.
Notes
     This Christmas fic is gifted to:
     Skargasm who I bonded with over Tyler H. photos and who wouldn't I
     ask - an amazingly talented writer of many fandoms, not afraid to go
     darkside when the muse directs.
      
     So a Christmas story - again this ended up being longer than I
     thought full of angst (I'm starting to think I must have serious
     issues). A two chapter one-shot.
     I've marked it choose your own ending because you can read Chapter
     one and that will end relatively sweetly or if you want porn and lots
     of it continue onto Chapter two.
     Best wishes to you all for a happy and safe holiday season. :D
     Unbeta'ed.
***** Chapter 1 *****
All_I_want_for_Christmas_-_Minor_Key
 
“Stiles...damn it...talk to me...are you okay?”  Derek can feel his heart pound
as he sees what looks like Stiles’ body half sticking out from under the
ornament laden branches of the Stilinski’s Christmas tree.  It looks like the
huge sparkling tree has partly devoured him.  What fresh hell is this when
Christmas trees are the monsters?  
 
It’s stupid, not less than two minutes ago he entered the teenager’s bedroom
and followed the sound of Stiles’ steady heartbeat to find him here in the
lounge room.  Seeing the boy sprawled on the floor sends a surge of adrenalin
and blood rushing throughout his body and the roar in his ears prevents him
from hearing Stiles’ heartbeat and he feels sick and starts to tug on the
teenager’s leg, tangled in a quilt, to draw him out.  Needs to know if he’s
okay.
 
Stiles wakes in a daze when he feels large warm hands grab his leg and gently
start to pull him along the floor out from under the Christmas tree where he’s
been sleeping.
 
“Santa??”  He asks tentatively, his voice sounding child-like even to his own
ears, before he can see by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree Derek
Hale crouched above him and the concern that’s all over his face is strangely
comforting. 
 
He smiles sleepily at the other man looking down at him and reaches up with his
hand extending it towards him.  For a fleeting moment the strangest expression
crosses the wolf’s face.  It’s almost like he’s in pain before he reaches out
with his own and grasps Stiles’ hand, his touch making him quiver helplessly. 
 
Derek can feel his mouth go dry as he looks down at the boy.  There’s something
about him...something irresistible as Stiles lies there looking up at him with
languid, slumberous eyes, the golden brown is hidden by shadows and he feels
something coil tight and low in his gut almost painfully when he holds his hand
out towards him. 
 
It’s an image that’s played in his dreams for a long time now, Stiles reaching
out to him, beckoning him to come closer...and closer again.  He can’t resist
and slides his hand into Stiles’ feeling their palms meet, callouses on both
sides catch and rasp and he feels a tingling shiver along his nerve endings. 
Thinks maybe he feels a similar tremor run through Stiles’ hand as well, before
berating himself for putting his own desires onto the younger man.
 
“Hey Derek...watcha doing here?”  Stiles rubs at his eyes tiredly.  Stupidly
happy to see the wolf anytime.
 
“You sent me a text remember?”  He frowns.  Reminding himself of what he came
here for and pulls out his phone and thumbs through the messages one-handed and
reads aloud.  “Meet me at my house tonight.  Very urgent. – That was sent about
two hours ago, I was on patrol and I’ve only just seen it.” 
 
Stiles almost laughs aloud, for some reason he’s become an expert translator of
exactly what the quirks and shifts of ‘those’ eyebrows mean.  Currently they
are saying ‘I’m here now get on with it’.
 
Stiles struggles to sit up and Derek easily pulls him into a sitting position
so swiftly that the momentum brings their heads so close together that Stiles
can feel the puff of air that Derek releases as he breathes in and out against
his cheek. 
 
Heat scalds Stiles’ face at their close proximity and he knows without a doubt
that the other man will hear how his heartbeat starts to race and see and scent
the beads of sweat that have formed almost instantly at the back of his neck,
hairline and upper lip.  It’s just so unfair, but what can he do, he’s never
been able to control his reaction around the other man and not seeing him
because he might feel a bit of embarrassment because of it is just not...no,
it’s not possible.
 
“Yeah...yeah that’s right.  I wanted to give you something.”  Is that his
voice, that high pitched squeak?  Damn it.
 
“Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?  It’s Christmas and we’ll see each other for
lunch with the rest of the pack.”  Derek’s feeling a little bit overwhelmed,
his senses so very attuned to the atmosphere of the lounge room.  It’s dark and
cosy, the only light is from the twinkling colourful ones on the tree, Stiles
sleep warm and fuzzy, their heads so close that if Derek leaned just the
tiniest inch closer...all the air escapes from his lungs in a heated puff. 
 
He can scent the fresh clean sweat that is pure Stiles, it’s almost like the
forest after a heavy rain and just because that's his favourite time to run
through the woodlands and cleanse his lungs in the moist sweet air
means...nothing, he tells himself harshly.  He’s so thirsty and he needs water
badly or something like it, he eyes a bead of sweat that trickles slowly down
the side of Stiles’ face from his temple and swallows hard.
 
“No...this is...this isn’t so much a gift...it’s more a return of something
that belongs to you.”  Stiles shimmies back and reaches under the tree and
pulls out a box.  It’s a plain brown one used for packing and the string that
ties it is again the standard coarse variety used for general postage.  It
makes Derek very curious as to what’s inside, particularly when he can sense
how nervous Stiles is. 
 
It’s in his scent a sharp note of anxiety which assails his senses, it’s like
burnt cinnamon, and Derek can see the fine tremors in his body and hands. 
Wants to reach out and soothe with an intensity that’s slightly frightening how
much he needs to comfort the younger man.  In the end he does nothing because
he can’t quite guarantee what will happen if he touches him.
 
Stiles can see and feel his hands shake as he holds the box.  Brown paper
packages tied up with string...God, he could only wish that this was actually
something that would be one of Derek’s favourite things, but he’s leaning more
towards painful memories. 
 
Has he done the right thing?  Is this the right time?  Is there ever a right
time?  He can only go on his own instincts and he knows that if the situation
were reversed he would want this straight away with every fibre of his being.
This is Derek’s though and he only found it yesterday and there’s something
inside him, a compulsion, that needs to make sure he gets it back okay. 
                                                                                                                                                    
“They’ve been cleaning out the storage area and evidence room at the station
and Dad kinda volunteered me to help ‘coz they’re so short staffed.  I...I
found an evidence box there.  It was for...uh...for your family, Derek.  Dad,
he didn’t even realise...you know if he had he’d have given it to you straight
away, don’t you?”  There’s a tone in Stiles’ voice, it’s not pity, he can tell
the difference.  It’s compassion and Derek can feel a weight settle on his
chest.  He can’t begin to think what the box might contain and it’s a fierce
terrible desire to know and an equally as great one of instinctive self-
preservation not to.
 
Stiles hands him the box and Derek can only look at him stupidly for a long
moment.  Until he sees and scents the rush of blood to the boy’s neck and
face.  The surge of blood through his carotid artery sends his scent spiking
quite noticeably and he realises that his delay is making Stiles afraid and
he...he can’t bear that.  He drops heavily onto his ass and sits crosslegged on
the floor as he reaches out and takes it and sits the package on his lap and
just stares as if he can see through the outer box to inside it and its
contents.
 
Stiles can feel his guts rolling as Derek looks at the box and there’s an
expression on his face, a confusing mix of longing and fear and it’s painful to
be a witness to it.  Isn’t that the way though when you care so much for
someone...Jesus Christ, does he have it bad.
 
Stiles just sits with him quietly as he stares at the box for the longest
time.  Doesn’t say anything.  Doesn’t press him to open it, doesn’t tell him to
forget about it and Derek’s grateful.  He sucks in a breath and pulls on the
end of the string watching as the coarsely woven thread slides unusually
easily, catching only a couple of times and unknots. 
 
With his heart hammering in his chest, it’s almost a wonder that Stiles with
his human hearing doesn’t hear it, the pounding rhythm against his ribcage.  He
flips the lid up and looks inside and gasps.  Derek feels his chest tighten as
his bruised heart stutters momentarily out of synch.
 
The small handheld video camera sits in a bed of bubble wrap to protect it. 
It’s casing is scratched and tinged a golden brown here and there in spots. 
Scorch marks. The label that’s stuck to the underside and slightly blackened
and peeling at the edges is still readable.  ‘Property of Laura Hale.  Don’t
touch – this means you Cora.’ 
 
With a trembling hand Derek gently brushes a fingertip against it and a small
hitching sob bursts out of him and Stiles is there...always there for him and
that’s what breaks him more than seeing this reminder of the family he’s lost. 
Stiles kneels before him and wraps his deceptively strong arms around him and
nestles Derek’s head into his neck letting him scent him, letting him find
comfort.  He wonders if Stiles even realises what an anchor he has become to
him.
 
Derek shudders almost uncontrollably and Stiles succumbs and presses light
kisses of caring and comfort over the high cheekbones and angular planes of
Derek’s face that combine and make him one of the most beautiful creatures he’s
ever seen.  That he happens to be the saddest and most tragic is another matter
entirely and sends agonising cracks through his own heart. 
 
He lets his hand slide through the soft dark hair at Derek’s nape, the lightest
scrape of nails against his scalp and he doesn’t read anything into the small
moan that Derek makes because he knows he’s in pain, and just pushes his face
in harder to his neck.  The other man wraps his arms around him and just holds
on tight.
 
It’s a struggle but after what seems forever, Derek stirs and shifts.  Stiles
slowly releases his hold and sits back on his heels.  Derek’s eyes maybe red-
rimmed, but he looks outwardly composed.  However, Stiles knows that on the
inside the wolf is all churning emotions ‘coz he’s watched him for a long
time...not stalkerish...okay maybe a little.  There’s tension in his jawline
where he’s clenching his teeth together and his fingers have curled forming
tight fists and Stiles can see the flesh of his palms go white where his nails
dig deep.
 
“I made sure...I checked to make sure it worked.”  He looks intently into
Derek’s eyes.  “For all that it’s been through it still works.  Derek there’s a
recording on it and it’s...it’s good.  I had to run it through a few programs
to clean it up, so I watched the smallest amount I could to make sure, but it’s
okay.  It’s okay.”
 
The wolf is quiet for so long just staring at him that Stiles can’t help but
speak to break whatever this strange tension is between them.  Those wonderful
eyes, that contain a myriad of colours that Stiles can’t describe and can only
fall back onto calling them green, hold his and it feels like Derek’s silently
asking him something.  A question.  Something he can’t quite interpret, but
feels like he should know the answer to.
 
“Underneath the packing you’ll find a disc and a USB stick I’ve saved the
recording on to those for you as well so you’ve got back ups.”  He feels
jittery, somehow laid bared before the stunning man in front of him who watches
him unwaveringly.
 
“You always look after me...don’t you Stiles?  Why?”  Derek feels the desperate
need to know.  Has to know why this amazing, beautiful, incredible boy never
hesitates to help him, rescue him...comfort him.  Watches intently as Stiles’
eyes flicker away and a rosy red flush stains his cheeks.  He can hear him
swallow noisily.
 
“I don’t know.”  Lie. 
 
“I guess I want to...that’s all really.”  Truth and lie. 
 
“You needed...need someone to back you up...and I guess I volunteered.”  Truth.
 
“Will you watch it with me.. please?”  Derek asks after a long considering
moment and he can read Stiles now after what 18 months, nearly 2 years of
facing death together, there’s a look on the younger man’s face that is pleased
and confused at feeling pleased when it comes to anything related to Derek’s
family.
 
“Yes.”  Stiles places a hand on Derek’s shoulder and squeezes lightly,
fingertips digging slightly into muscle and Derek feels his touch like a
grenade’s gone off throughout his nervous system.  His nerves and synapses
flare with explosive heat and he’s thankful that Stiles releases him and turns
away before he sees the very real shudders rack through his body.
 
Stiles turns to the coffee table where his laptop and some cables are and Derek
passes him the box so very, very carefully like it contains the most precious
of objects in it, to him it probably does and therefore it is to Stiles as
well.  Swiftly Stiles connects everything together and looks at the wolf
silently asking him if he’s ready.  Derek simply nods and Stiles presses the
play button while simultaneously reaching back and grabbing hold of the wolf’s
hand.  Derek’s grip is so tight, palm slick with sweat, that Stiles almost
winces but simply squeezes back.
 
Theres’ giggling, child-like and feminine, and the bumping noise of the
recorder being jiggled clatters loudly through its microphone.  It swings
around and a large pair of cocoa brown eyes and the straight blade of a nose
comes into view before the recorder is pulled back so swiftly that it’s nausea-
inducing, shades of ‘Blair witch’.  A very pretty girl of about 17 or 18 is
looking into the lens.  Long dark hair, high cheekbones and shaped eyebrows
that in some respects look like Derek’s only less frowny and a brilliant white
smile.  Her voice is naturally husky and very appealing.                      
                                                                               
                                                                               
                         
“Yes...here we are on the fringes of the beast’s den...also known by its more
common name as Lupus Fifteenyearoldasshatus...we have to be very quiet now as
my fellow adventurers and I broach the beast in it’s...lair.”  She gives an
evil chuckle before the recorder is swung around and focuses on two girls about
9 or 10, the twins Cora and Diana who are giggling, Diana is holding a birthday
cake, with the candles lit.  A boy of about 12, Daniel, who looks remarkably
like Derek, but his eyes are brown and not green, hovers behind them
protectively watching that they don’t burn themselves on the flames.
Laura’s hand on the door knob as she whispers ‘One...two...three’ and flings
the door open “Happy birthday!” they cry out together, one of the others must
switch on the light as the body in the bed flails around wildly, bed clothes
jerking upwards but the recorder catches a flash of the long line of bare torso
that had been exposed.  Derek sits up in bed and drags a pillow onto his lap. 
“Laaauura.”  He wails, his cheeks flushed pink and the camera jerks unsteadily
as she starts to giggle uncontrollably.
“Surprise...little bro...not interrupting are we?”  The younger siblings don’t
seem to realise what Derek’s been up to as they pile onto his bed and start to
sing ‘Happy birthday to you’.  By the end of which he’s smiling and blows out
the candles at the twin’s encouragement.  He wraps an arm around each one
hauling them in close and plants a kiss on each of their foreheads.   Cora
holds her nose and waves her hand in front of her face.
“Jeez, Derek you smell real funky.”
Laura laughs long and loud as Derek turns pink again, even the tips of his ears
glow rosily.
Derek grabs Daniel and pretends to headbutt him before dragging him down onto
his chest and rubbing his knuckles hard and fast across the top of his head,
the friction makes his dark hair stand on end.  But the look he gives his older
brother is worshipful rather than annoyed even though he cries out
plainatively.  “Deeerek..
“Okay guys, take the cake downstairs and put it in the fridge, Mom said it’s
for tonight, so no nibbling on the way right.”  Here is the future Alpha
talking and it's no surprise when the others troop out obediently as Laura
remains behind, still recording. 
“Sorry about interrupting your...special alone time.”  Her voice becomes low
and teasing.  Derek just rolls his eyes.
“How’s it feel...fifteen.”  She sighs heavily before mimicking a more motherly
type voice, higher pitched.  “Don’t they just grow up so fast?”
“Fine...now stop recording.”  The image moves from side to side like she’s
shaking her head ‘no’.  Derek reaches out and tries to grab the recorder.
“Ugh...keep your hands to yourself buddy...I know where they’ve been.”  Derek’s
face lights up with an evil grin as he crawls out of the bed, in his boxers and
t-shirt, and runs at her his hands held out, fingers wiggling threateningly. 
“Stop it you big goober.” Laura squeals and Derek laughs as he chases her. 
 
It cuts out and there’s a fuzzy patch for a moment.
 
Stiles presses pause and looks at Derek beside him.  The other man is smiling
and Stiles can feel relief wash over him. 
 
“I caught her you know, rubbed my hands all over her hair...boy was she mad,
said she’d need to wash her hair a hundred times at least to get clean.”  He
laughs at the memory.
 
“Your sister...she rocks.”  Derek smiles at him and it’s one he’s never seen
before and it makes his breath hitch and his pulse race.  He almost looks like
the fifteen year old Derek in the footage, with the easy smile and the light
eyes, the one that’s only known love and security and never knew how easy it
was to lose it all.
 
“Do you want to keep going?”  Stiles asks hesitantly.  This has been a good
memory for Derek he’s not sure if he wants him to push his luck.  “Or did you
want to watch the rest on your own?”
 
“NO.”  Derek’s voice is sharp.  He turns his head away, eyes looking at the
floor as he clutches at Stiles’ hand, even tighter.  Says more softly.  “No. 
I’ve been alone for too long now..,Stiles, I don’t want to be on my own
anymore...please, lets keep going.”  His eyes flick up to Stiles’ who has been
holding his breath, trying desperately not to read too much into what he’s
saying.
 
“Okay.”  Stiles presses the play button again and they sit side by side,
shoulders pressed hard against each other, their thighs plastered tight and
Stiles can feel every movement, every reaction that Derek has to the rest of
the recording.  The images come fast and they’re painfully poignant for Stiles
when he sees the happy family that Derek once had.
 
Talia and David dancing a tango in the kitchen while they cook to the pulsing
latin music coming out of a CD player on the bench, a stalk of celery held
between Talia’s white teeth and David does a final spin and rocks Talia back
into a low dip.
“Woo hoo!  Get a room you two.”  Calls out Laura.  The kids laugh in the
background as they help prepare the meal, before their parents draw them into
the dance as well.  Moving up and down the kitchen, David clasps first Diana,
arms stretched out in front of them while Talia presses her cheek to Derek’s
who is hunched over because he’s slightly taller than her.  They swap over,
Talia grabbing her youngest son, Daniel who blushes and stumbles around the
room and David has picked up Cora so her feet don’t actually touch the ground
while they move.  Derek sweeps Diana into his arms and proceeds to jiggle her
to their own dance around the room while she laughs at the funny faces he
pulls.
 
Peter playing ‘one on one’ basketball with both Derek and Daniel together and
beating them.  Hugging his nephews tightly around their necks as he whoops and
hollers after every bucket he makes, until fed up they both jump on him
growling and push him to the ground and ‘puppy pile’ him.  The affection
between the three of them is startling.
 
Derek’s, Uncle Nathan and heavily pregnant Aunt Victoria, coming down the
stairs, her bag packed ready to go to the hospital at the bottom.  From the way
she’s holding her back and panting, red-faced, she’s not far from delivering. 
Nathan grabs the bag, rushes out the front door and slams it behind him, only
to sheepishly open it again and hold out his hand to his not-amused wife, the
rest of the pack roaring in laughter.
 
New-born baby Lucinda, Derek’s cousin, being passed from pack member to pack
member in a circle as they each take a turn in holding her and drawing her
scent in deep and letting her do the same in turn.  Each of them promising to
love and protect her as they welcome her to the pack. 
Derek claims her at the end and just holds her for the longest time, nuzzling
her baby cheeks and letting her claim his finger and draw the knuckle to her
mouth.  His eyes are infinitely gentle and it is obvious another Hale female
has claimed his heart and wrapped him around her little finger.
 
Cora and Diana’s school Christmas play recorded from start to finish, with
whispered commentary provided by Laura, on how Cora is the best tree ever she
stands so still and Diana is a gingerbread woman who looks downright edible
she’s so cute.  The sounds of the Hale pack cheering and clapping at the end as
the girls make their bows is deafening and borders on howling.  The jubilation
of wolves.
 
Christmas morning and the whole pack is in the family room, in their pyjamas
drinking hot chocolate,where a huge tree sparkles with ornaments and twinkles
with lights.  It’s loud and happy and the love that is so obviously in the room
is a joy to watch as the Hale’s exchange gifts.  Yelling and calling out to
each other.  Laura focuses the recorder on Derek and calls out to him. 
“Hey little bro, watcha got there?”  Derek lifts his head and his eyes are
sparkling, the green shot through with silver, he’s so happy.  He waves two
tickets in front of his face.
“You are the best Laura...tickets to a Mets and Dodgers game...I can’t believe
it.” Fifteen year old Derek can’t contain his excitement.
“Of course I’m the best...and seriously how is it you’re only starting to
appreciate me now hmpfh...I’m hurt..  Her tone is teasing.
“Thanks Laura...I love you.”  He smiles at her and it’s breathtaking, there is
no underlying sorrow, no pain, no unhappiness.  This is Derek, how he should’ve
been allowed to grow up.  Happy and well-loved.
“I love you too ya big doofus...come and give your most awesome sister some
sugar..  Derek rolls his eyes in apparent disgust, but obediently lifts his
head, the recorder moves slightly to one side as he kisses his sister on the
cheek.
 
The images come to an end and the screen stays black.  It’s almost
heartbreaking.
 
An hour and a half after they first started, Stiles turns it off and looks at
Derek worriedly. 
 
Between one breath and the next, Derek yanks on his hand that he’s held on to
so tightly through the entire footage.  Stiles is swept up into Derek’s arms
which wrap tightly around his waist and the wolf tucks his head underneath the
younger man’s chin, burrowing into him, his hot breath sears Stiles’ skin
through the cotton t-shirt he wears as though it’s not even there. 
 
Derek’s shoulders and chest heave violently and Stiles wraps his arms around
them tight, restraining him, knowing that it’s good to feel when you’re out of
control that someone else is stronger...has got you and will keep you safe.
 
Derek is torn.  The sobs that are wrenched out of him are silent and dry,
tearless, but still achingly painful none the less, as his chest feels a band
of emotion tighten around him.  Squeezing. 
 
Stiles is surprisingly strong and Derek fights the sure and steady clutch of
his arms and hands around him, needing to fight something, anything, even if
it's not with all the werewolf strength he possesses because he doesn’t really
want to hurt the younger man. 
 
They grapple, straining as they push and pull at each other, until he can’t
anymore and collapses against him nose buried in the hollow of his throat, his
fists clutching and twisting the fabric of Stiles’ t-shirt tight and just lets
Stiles hold him. 
 
Which is when he realises that Stiles has been talking to him the entire time,
even though he hadn’t been able to hear over the thundering roar in his ears,
his blood surging powerfully throughout his body from his all-too-rapid
heartbeat.
 
“Sshhh...it’s okay Derek...it’s okay...I’ve got ya...not gonna let you
go...it’s okay.”  Over and over he says the words in counterpoint to what Derek
realises is him whimpering brokenly, a stark hurt sound that is painful to hear
even to himself. 
 
“I miss them so much.”  He whispers and feels Stiles’ lips press gentle kisses
on the top of his head against his hair.
 
“I know...I know.”  Stiles rocks him gently from side to side, the rhythm
soothing and he does it for a long, long time.  Never stops holding him, never
stops talking to him, never stops pressing light kisses against his hair and
forehead.  That another human being, another person in this world seems to care
for him...cares that he is hurting, cares that he’s felt alone for so
long...it's a balm to the soul-deep wound he’s carried forever it seems, at
least since he lost his family. 
 
Derek just breathes Stiles in and the scent of rain and cinnamon is fresh and
it’s intoxicating, like Stiles is Derek’s Christmas in one living breathing 17
year old.  He nuzzles his throat harder, giving the rapidly bobbing adam’s
apple there a long hard lick.  The urge to unwrap him like a present is
incredibly strong.
 
“Thank you Stiles.  Thank you for giving me my family back...I’d...I’d almost
forgotten them.”  Stiles, his throat wet from Derek’s mouth, can only watch
mesmerized as Derek lifts his head from where it’s been tucked into him. 
 
He can feel himself start to blush, heat burning across his cheeks, as he sees
the intensity in those beautiful, magnificent eyes.. that are green and so much
more.  Can feel his eyes start to cross as he realises that Derek’s face is
getting closer and closer and the older man is looking at his mouth with an
intent that makes Stiles belly clench hard and fast and his toes curl.
 
He hovers over the wide mouth of this beautiful boy who looks at him with those
soul-searching amber brown eyes that see more than a wolf, more than a
frightened betrayed 16 year old, more than a broken man.  Stiles sees him, all
of him, what he is, what he could’ve been and what he might yet still become
and he accepts him.  It’s that acceptance that has him whispering,
demanding...pleading that he give him even more.  Their lips so close to
touching that the nerve endings are fooled into believing they are and start
tingling. 
 
“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”  He presses his mouth to Stiles’ and for
one brief moment it’s just two pairs of lips resting against each other.  It’s
that split second after throwing a match on gasoline, just before ignition,
when the liquid and fumes catch and the blast wave propels outwards and hits
your chest with a whump before it explodes into flames.  Before your world
catches on fire.
 
Derek’s being scorched by the flames and he surges up onto his knees and into
Stiles’ body.  He captures Stiles’ head tilting it up, cradling him between his
hands as he hovers over him and swipes his tongue against the teenager’s lips
asking for entry.
 
When Stiles moans softly, parting his lips Derek feels immense satisfaction and
a burning need that shocks him slightly with its power as he pushes his tongue
in deep. The feel of Stiles’ tongue rubbing back against his sends rippling
waves of desire throughout him.  He can feel Stiles hands clutch frantically at
his t-shirt, fisting the fabric against his chest.  That Stiles feels as out of
control as he does makes his head swim.
 
He’s growling, can’t control it.  His wolf is demanding more wanting to claim
the teenager, wanting him as pack...as family...as mate. He can feel his cock
throbbing heavily as he slides one hand down from the back of Stiles’ head
along the graceful line of his spine and rests it just above the sweet curving
dip of his ass, feels the waistband of Stiles’ sleep pants under his thumb. 
 
Fuck...fuck...the temptation to hook into it and drag them down and bare him to
his touch makes him harder than he’s ever been before.  He presses with a flat
palm, driving the boy’s pelvis into his and he’s howling it feels so good and
they rub and rub, push and grind, cocks achingly hard against each other.
 
Stiles is lost to the sensations that are pulsing throughout his body.  He’d
never ever expected that Derek would ever want him this way and he can’t
believe it...can’t believe that the best man he’s ever known in his life, bar
his Dad, is now pressed up to him and he’s growling and moaning against him. 
 
Stiles’ is spinning out of control, the rub and thrust of Derek’s tongue
against his is making him so hard that it’s veering into pain, has him fisting
the front of Derek’s t-shirt trying to hang onto something real, something to
ground him through the demands of his body.  The gut-wrenching shared spike of
emotions that they’ve experienced together threatens to tear him apart and
that’s when it hits him...they can’t.
 
“Derek...please...stop.”  He breathes against Derek’s mouth, who dips his head
and mouths along his jaw to lick and nibble his neck.  It’s so hot, so good, he
can’t help but tilt his head to give the wolf better access. 
 
Derek’s going up in flames, the younger man is baring his throat to him and
it’s a submission that stokes the fire in him even higher.  He pants desperate
words into Stiles’ neck, drawing his beloved scent into him trying to capture
it forever.  “Can’t...need you Stiles...need you so bad.”
 
“Shit...Derek...I.”  Stiles wants this so badly but he...he can’t damn it. 
Derek’s been through such an emotional night that he can’t. It would be like
taking advantage and hasn’t that happened to the wolf enough throughout his
life.
 
He places his hands on the broad shoulders in front of him and draws back, just
barely able to avoid Derek’s mouth that chases his, to look into the burning
red eyes that watch him so hungrily.  There’s a wariness in them now that is
painful to see.
 
“Derek...I want to...believe me I want to so badly you wouldn’t believe how
much, but...we need to slow this down.”  Stiles blushes to hear the shaky
hitching noises that come out of his mouth that are supposed to be words. 
 
Derek’s heart sinks and he feels like his stomach has plummeted the height of
the Empire State building.  His mate is denying him, doesn’t want him...doesn’t
feel the same way.  He rocks back on his heels and feels his face burning in
embarrassment.   Can’t look the younger man in the eye, when he feels a hand
cup his jaw the fingers splay across his cheek rubbing gently, creating sparks
in his very flesh as Stiles turns his head to face him.
 
“No don’t look like that.  I’m not rejecting you. I’m not saying no...I’m just
saying now is not maybe the best time after-”  Stiles casts a look at the
laptop and the video recorder still hooked into it.  “When everything is
so...emotional.”
 
“Stiles.”  How can he tell the teenager in front of him that this isn’t some
sort of spur of the moment thing for him, it’s been coming for a long time
now.  “Stiles this isn’t just about tonight.”  Derek can see the boy startle,
his body jerking uncontrollably.
 
“It’s not?”  Stiles’ voice is soft and now it’s his turn to be unsure and
uncertain and Derek didn’t want that for him, doesn’t want him to doubt.  Not
when it’s so important.
 
“I’ve wanted this for a long time now and...”  Derek shakes his head, pausing
to gather his thoughts, struggling to find the words.  The right words and then
he does.  It’s so simple.  “I love you Stiles.”
 
Stiles can’t control his hands they flutter wildly in front of him when Derek
tells him he loves him.  His heart’s about to burst out of his chest...fuck
he’s gonna have an aneurism and it’ll all be over real quick.  His pulse is
racing as he reaches out and grabs Derek’s hands.  Sitting back on their heels
looking into each other’s eyes as they grasp at each other’s hands, it’s a
fucking Christmas miracle, worthy of a Hallmark movie.  There’s a sweet
vulnerability to Derek’s face and Stiles can’t bear to see him so unsure, so
uncertain of him. 
 
“I love you Derek Hale...love you so much...have done forever.”  He leans
forward and rests his forehead against the other man’s looking into green eyes
once again, their noses slot against each other as their mingled breath puffs
against their lips, sharing oxygen.
 
“If we’ve loved each other for such a long time already we can afford to wait
just a little bit.  I don’t want this to be something you’ll regret later...I
don’t want the emotions from seeing your family to confuse things between us.” 
Stiles draws in a deep breath.  “I hope you understand...I don’t want to take
advantage of you...well not now...but later, I’ll take advantage all the time,
every day.”  He waggles his eyebrows suggestively at the wolf.
 
As much as he doesn’t want to Derek understands and even though the horny,
desperate as hell part of him that wants to be with his mate in every possible
way is screaming in his head to just grab on and overwhelm the boy with his
desire.  He knows if he pressed he could do it. 
 
Still, there's another part of him that's grateful and appreciates what this
wonderful boy is doing for him.  He knows how hard Stiles’ cock is, can scent
it, knows that teen hormones and urges are riding him hard, yet Stiles wants to
give him time to absorb it all in.  Stiles doesn’t want to take advantage of
him and that makes his heart ache.  Since his family has gone there weren’t too
many people who didn’t want something from him.
 
He does the only thing he can and lightly presses a kiss to that wonderful
mouth and finds a strength he never knew he possessed to pull back and not take
it further.  Derek nods his head.  Okay, okay.
 
They sit there on their knees and just let the moment wrap around them.  Bodies
still vibrating, attuned to each other in ways that only those who have loved
or are in love can possibly know.
 
“Tell me what were you doing sleeping under the tree?”  Derek says eventually,
voice thick and raspy with hunger, attempting to distract himself from the
shiny red lips that Stiles seemingly insists on licking or nipping between his
front teeth and chewing on the succulent plumpness...stop it.
 
“It’s a Stilinski tradition, something my Mom and I used to do on Christmas
Eve.  Come on, you’ll see.”  Stiles tugs on Derek’s hand and the wolf soon
finds himself sharing a pillow, chest deep under the tree looking up through
the branches watching twinkling lights reflect off the shiny ornaments.  It’s
beautiful.  He sighs in wonder and smiles.
 
He turns to look at the boy who lies next to him and realises Stiles has been
watching his face rather than looking up.  Patterns of light flicker across the
teenager’s face...red, blue, green, yellow, pink and white the delicate colours
and soft light reveal a look on his face that Derek can only describe as
wonderment. 
 
It’s like Stiles can’t believe his luck, that his cup runneth over and
it’s...it’s because of him...it’s directed at him and his heart swells in his
chest with a joy that he’s never known before.  His hand at his side finds the
teenager’s and Derek tangles his fingers in tightly, he’s never gonna let go. 
They lie together simply looking into each other’s eyes and it feels so right
that Derek can’t help but sigh in contentment. 
 
They don’t speak there’s no need everything that needs to be said is being
communicated by every look that feels like a physical caress, each deep breath
that Stiles blows across his cheek and lips and Derek’s drowning in the scent
which is a combination of Stiles and Derek, born of deep, wet, plunging
kisses. 
 
“Happy Christmas Derek.”  Stiles' voice is thick with sleep and he can see the
teenager’s eyes are fluttering closed.  Derek leans down and presses a kiss
against his forehead and sends a prayer to whomever may listen to the heartfelt
desires of one lonely werewolf - ‘Dear God, can I keep him please?’ 
 
“Happy Christmas Stiles.”  He whispers.
***** Chapter 2 *****
It must be only two or three hours later when Derek wakes up and feels
trembling fingers tracing the contours of his face.  He looks down and realises
that at some point he’s gathered the teen up into his arms and is clutching him
tight against his chest, they are pressed together from thigh to shoulder.
 Stiles eyes are lost in shadows, but Derek can feel his gaze burn into his
skin.
 
“How can any one person be so ridiculously, so wonderfully beautiful?”  Stiles
asks the question with a voice deep and rough with emotion and Derek can feel
his chest tighten as those long slender fingers stroke against his throat along
his jaw up to his ear to brush against the lobe.  Fire trails in their wake and
his whole body feels wired, caught up in the tension of heat and need.  He
hardens instantly.
 
“I know I said we needed to wait...but, God help me Derek I need you so much.” 
Stiles voice trembles with guilt and hunger.  Something inside Derek blooms
brighter than ever when he hears the revealing tremor and scents the sweet
aromas of arousal, cinnamon and vanilla, rising from Stiles’ skin and he can’t
help but smile his happiness.
 
“Stiles...don’t you know...can’t you feel it?”  He grabs Stiles caressing hand
and places it on his chest, over his heart and lets the boy feel the body
shaking thump of his heart as it pounds against the prison of his ribcage. 
“I’m crazy for you, head over heels for you. I want you so bad it hurts...I...I
ache.”
 
“Derek.”  Stiles can’t doubt the sincerity in his voice or the revealing
physical reactions that Derek can’t and doesn’t hide from him.  He stretches up
and feels the brush of the tree’s branches against the back of his head and
shoulders as he looks down into the face of the man he loves more than anything
on this earth.  Feels something catch in his hair and tugs to release it.
 
The look on his wolf’s face is first of surprise and then amusement.
 
“What?  What is it?”  Stiles asks curiously, watching in delight as Derek’s
eyes crinkle at the corners just a little bit as he smiles broadly up at him.
 
“Finally, a use for this stuff that I approve of.  You have to kiss me
now...it’s tradition.”  Derek reaches up and brushes his fingertips over the
sprig of mistletoe that Stiles has just gotten caught under.  Stiles can feel
his eyes widen as he kinks his head to look, before a smile of pure happiness
stretches his beautiful mouth wide.  Derek can feel his chest swell with pride,
he’s put that look on his face.
 
“Well, I’m definitely a believer in traditions.”  Stiles lowers his head
slowly, savouring every expression that crosses Derek’s face, the disbelief
that they are together like this, a hesitant almost fearful look that he’s
afraid if he even breathes the wrong way Stiles is going to disappear and a
lust that makes his eyes bleed to red and with the shifting twinkling Christmas
lights from the tree, they reflect back different colours at Stiles.  As the
lights flicker and change so do Derek’s eyes and it’s beautiful, so beautiful
that Stiles struggles to draw breath as he looks into them.  Violet then orange
to burgundy then a hot magenta before returning to wolf-red.
 
“Derek.”  Stiles breathes against his mouth before gently brushing his lips
back and forth, over and over until the tingling sensation near enough drives
Derek mad with want.  His hand slides up and over the fine-boned shoulder
blades to tangle in Stiles’ hair and he pushes down with his hand and lifts up
his head and their mouths are mashed tight together and he releases enough to
growl hungrily at the teenager.
 
“Don’t tease.”  He slots his mouth back over Stiles and yes...God, yes he opens
his mouth wide and this is a kiss like none he’s ever given or received
before.  The wet heat and firm slick slide of Stiles’ tongue against his has
his eyes rolling back in his head and his hips cant upwards searching for
friction. 
 
“Derek...come on.”  Stiles whispers as he pulls his head back and grabs Derek’s
hand.  He needs more room for all the things that he wants to do with the wolf,
for all the things he wants the wolf to do to him.  Stiles guides him out and
pulls the pillow and quilt from under the tree with him.  Getting to his feet,
light headed and unsteady for a moment, maybe because all the blood in his body
is currently residing in his swollen aching cock and balls, Stiles spreads out
the quilt across the floor in front of the tree.  Derek sits back on his heels
and he looks overwhelmed...maybe even a little bit lost.
 
Stiles moves to stand in front of him and leans down as the wolf looks up at
him worry in his eyes.  The younger man cups his face and draws him upwards
onto his knees as he hunches down and brushes his mouth against Derek’s.
 
“It’s okay, just making us more...comfortable.”  The look of relief on Derek’s
face almost breaks Stiles’ heart.  It’s almost as though he can’t believe that
he can have this, that he can have the good things in life and Stiles wants to
make sure by the morning Derek knows for certain that he can have it all.  He
can have everything that is in Stiles’ power to give.
 
“Where are you going?”  Derek still sounds unsure as Stiles goes to leave the
room.  His eyes following every move he makes, he half goes to get to his feet
and Stiles holds his hand out to stop him. 
 
“It’s okay, stay here.  I’m just getting a few things.”  As he disappears
around the corner he calls over his shoulder.  “Just don’t start without me.”
 
Derek snorts a half laugh.  Looks around the room.  There are many Christmas
cards on the shelf over the fireplace and the long skinny table that sits
directly behind the couch.  How do they know so many people he wonders.  Thinks
of his loft and the few cards that sit on the ledge below the huge industrial
sized windows.  They are from his pack and the only ones that matter.
 
Then he sees on a small table to one side of the tree is a photo frame.  He
moves closer.  With his wolf senses he can see clearly in the dim light, it’s a
picture of Stiles’ mom, Claudia Stilinski.  He can see so much of Stiles in the
beautiful woman.  Her hair is blowing across her face and she’s laughing trying
to drag blonde and sable strands out of her mouth.  Golden amber eyes look
lovingly towards whoever was taking the photo and her wide mouth stretches and
he can see a milk chocolate mole on her cheek.
 
There is a sprig of holly on one corner of the frame and scattered on the table
are little figurines.  A jolly looking Santa complete with sleigh and reindeer
with a bag of toys some of which are falling out, trailing behind.  He looks
closer and realises that his isn’t some cheap trinket, it’s a beautifully
crafted porcelain piece and the colours shine and glow brightly.  The reindeer
look so realistic with their antlers and the very front one has a shiny red
nose.  He can’t help but smile to see it.
 
“That’s my Mom’s favourite Christmas decoration ever.”  Stiles says from behind
him.  Derek startles, he’d not even heard the boy come back into the room and
wonders if that’s maybe because he trusts him so very much that he’d let his
guard down.  It’s a strange feeling, but a good one.
 
“I wasn’t touching it.”  Derek shuffles back from the table, not wanting the
other boy to be pissed off thinking he’s toying with his Mom’s stuff.  Frowning
Stiles drops the things he’s carried down from his bedroom onto the quilt on
the floor. 
 
“It’s okay, you can.  My Mom loved Christmas so very much, it was her favourite
time of year.  That’s why my Dad and I tend to go all out...you know the big
tree...the Christmas lights.”  Stiles looks into Derek’s eyes searching for
understanding and when he sees it, he can’t stop...can’t stop talking, can’t
stop revealing things he’s never told anyone else before...ever. 
 
“It’s probably gonna sound crazy, but...I want my Mom to look down and see our
house...see it shining and know that we love her.”  His voice cracks at the end
and Derek simply reaches out and grabs his hand, squeezes it gently and Stiles
knows that Derek understands ten-fold how he feels and somehow that makes him
feel better.  Enough that he can squeeze back before releasing him.
 
Feeling extremely nervous, Stiles turns and gathers the blankets and pillows
he’s brought down and makes a little nest for them to lay on, covers them with
a couple of towels ‘coz he doesn’t want to have too much of a mess to clean
up.  He surreptitiously slips the bottle of lube under one of the pillows.
 Smooth Stilinski smooth, he tells himself when he hears a strangled noise from
Derek’s direction.  He leaves the change of comfortable clothes for Derek on
the couch, sweatpants and an old t-shirt.   Maybe he’s being presumptuous in
thinking that Derek will want to stay and sleep with him...after.  He already
has once tonight and he kinda hopes...well, he likes to be prepared.
 
Stiles kneels amongst the quilt and blankets and fusses over them twitching the
fabric straight, puffs out the pillows, slapping them into shape with shaking
hands.  Derek watches as Stiles makes a bed for them, that the younger man’s
blushing furiously while he’s doing it is nothing short of endearing to the
wolf.  He knows that Stiles is a virgin and yet here he is with Derek and he
and his wolf want to howl in exaltation and he wants to go to him and simply
bury his face in the other boy’s hands.  So he does.
 
“Stiles.”  He rumbles, he’s so very hungry for the other boy.  He crawls
towards him on hands and knees growling low in his chest, he’s partially
shifted and hopes it doesn’t frighten Stiles, but he can’t seem to rein himself
in.
 
When he hears Derek say his name in just THAT way Stiles gulps desperately for
air, tips his head back closing his eyes.  He can hear an edge in the other
man’s voice that says ‘it’s time’.  When he opens his eyes he practically
swallows his tongue.  Derek’s stalking him, crawling towards him and every
movement is seductive.  Every placement of his hands and knees.  Every roll of
his hips.  Every flex of broad shoulders and every dip of his head.  Fuck. 
He’s looking at him like he’s prey, like he’s gonna devour him whole...God, he
really hopes that’s what it means. 
 
His cock throbs and throbs.  It’s a never ending ache and the way that Derek’s
looking at him now has it jerking, releasing a pulse of pre-come that instantly
soaks into the front of his cotton sleep pants.  Derek’s red eyes focus
intently on his groin and he licks his lips in such a lascivious way that
Stiles wants to cry at the visual stimulation that makes his spine tingle so
intensely.
 
When Derek reaches him he sits back on his heels and grabs Stiles hands and
cups them in his own, careful of the claws that have burst out of his
fingertips.  He lowers his head while lifting them up and presses his face into
Stiles’ palms.  Drawing Stiles’ scent deep into his lungs he mouths kisses and
gentle nips across the calloused flesh, when he reaches his slender wrists he
flicks his tongue out to taste the stronger scent that is released at the
pulsepoint and sighs, enjoying the flavour and the feeling of Stiles’ pulse
race under the tip of his tongue.
 
Stiles can’t believe it, here he is in the very early hours of Christmas
morning and he and Derek are about to have sex.  He blinks.  This so better not
be a dream because he’ll be seriously pissed when he wakes up.  Pissed and
horny.
 
With the wolf nuzzling his hands and licking and oh my god was that a nip...it
felt like a nip, a good one.  Stiles drops his head to rest on the back of the
older man’s and whispers in his ear.
 
“Derek I love you...love you so much...Derek.”  He sighs breathlessly when
Derek lifts his head and there’s such love and longing on his face for him,
it’s a physical pain not to be making love to him right now.  His face has
morphed into his beta appearance pointed ears, widow peaked hairline, sideburns
that’ve sprouted along his jawline, broader flatter nose and heavier brow not
to mention the fangs that dent into his lower lip.  Derek presses forward and
slots his face against the crook of Stiles’ neck and shoulder and he can feel
him breathing deeply - inhale, exhale - his hot breath on the tender sensitive
skin sending goosebumps rippling from his shoulders down his arms and torso.
 
Derek’s struggling to regain control and presses his face even harder into
Stiles’ throat the wonderful scent that is Stiles wraps around him.  It's sweat
and pre-come, a delicious perfume, and underlying it all is the basis of
Stiles’ scent - vanilla, cinnamon and a hint of tart citrus.  It makes Derek’s
mouth water and he just has to taste, licking and suckling at the side of his
neck and Stiles is moaning and damn if that doesn’t just make him even harder,
can’t remember his cock being like this ever before.  His aching cock is full
to bursting with blood and so sensitive that the tight pressure of his jeans is
going to get him off before he even does anything.  Needs to get them
off...right now...before...fuck.
 
Stiles feels his head spinning Derek’s been licking at him, on his freakin’
neck at a point that feels like it’s hot-wired directly to his penis.  Every
brush of his lips, every wet stripe of his tongue has it twitching and
jerking.  He’s so not going to last at this rate.  Then Derek’s pulling back
and standing and Stiles can feel his eyes stretch wide as the other man
desperately yanks off his long-sleeved Henley leaving the white wife-beater on
before that has to go too.  He registers that Derek’s back to human now, his
features normal.  He swallows and swallows again.  
 
Dear God in heaven...here is one of your most perfect creations standing before
him.  There are muscles apparently on muscles, dips and ridges where Stiles
didn’t even know you could get them and the other man’s abs are so sinfully
beautiful that Stiles almost feels he should go straight to hell for what he’s
thinking about them.  What absolutely kills him though is the defining cut of
his pelvis.  The line starts on either side of his hips and disappears below
the waistband of his jeans. 
 
Derek’s tugging and pulling at the buckle on his belt and it floors Stiles that
he can see how much Derek’s visibly shaking.  His hands have tremors racing
through them like he’s been afflicted...and it’s for him...how is this even
possible?  This most beautiful man seems to want him as much as Stiles wants
him.  He reaches up and places his hand over the two that have gone almost
white-knuckled in frustration as the belt seems to be on the verge of defeating
the wolf who can’t seem to grasp the complexities of a threaded through length
of leather with punched holes and a simple metal tongue.
 
Derek freezes as he feels that beloved hand rest on top of his trembling ones. 
Looking down he can see that Stiles is watching him beneath his long lashes,
heavy lidded and dark eyed and a hot blaze of colour has flared up from Stiles’
chest up his neck to stripe across his cheekbones.  Fuck...fuck...he feels
giddy, unsteady on his feet, realising that this complex, stubbornly brave,
hauntingly beautiful creature that kneels at his feet is going to be his.  His
in every way.  He keens in desperate longing.
 
When Stiles starts to pull on his belt buckle Derek can only let his hands hang
at his sides and push his pelvis forward.  With a clink of metal Stiles has
released him from the binding leather and then he’s...oh shit...he presses his
face into the dark denim and nuzzles Derek’s sac like he’s scenting him through
the fabric before sliding up and rubbing his cheeks against the hard ridge of
his erection.  The feel of his teeth mouthing bites along his hard length is
too much he thinks, right until the moment that Stiles flicks the button open
and grabs the tab of his zipper and slowly...oh so slowly pulls it down.  He’s
gonna die.
 
Stiles parts the denim fly and nearly chokes with want.  Derek’s wearing black
underwear and he can see the thick ridge of flesh that pushes out the cotton
fabric in a big bulge.  What breaks him is seeing that the tip of Derek’s cock,
the purple red head has pushed up and past the waistband of his underwear, as
he looks he can see a bubbling pulse of pre-come ooze out of the slit to run
down the length of the fat cock head and be soaked up by cotton.
 
Even as his mouth waters, Stiles groin contracts fiercely, his stomach muscles
rippling and the tight ache that are his balls draws up even tighter
and...no...no...he can’t not yet...God no...
 
“No...fuck.”  He’s coming.  Coming so hard that he collapses forwards, moaning
hotly as his head rests weakly against the other man’s strong muscled thighs. 
He hunches over and feels that hot pulsing in his testicles as his body wrings
out an orgasm that’s the best one he’s ever had in his life and he’s not even
done anything yet.  A distant part of him can hear the wolf howling above him,
a heavy hand resting on the back of his head claws scraping against his
sensitive scalp.
 
He can feel tears of frustration and disappointment well in the corners of his
eyes where they’re screwed up so tight because of the gut-wrenching pleasure
that’s rocking through him.  He falls to his side, curled up into a tight ball,
not daring to look at the other man afraid that he’ll see either amusement or
disappointment and he can’t bear that.
 
He can sense Derek moving and feels him drop down next to him and he removes
Stiles’ pants and uses one of the soft towels he brought down to wipe over his
belly.  Then Derek’s tugging at his t-shirt and Stiles still hasn’t opened his
eyes.  He just can’t face the other man.  He huddles on his side and
feels...holy fuck...Derek’s naked.  Completely naked, his broad chest pressing
into his back as his arms wrap around him.   Here they are then, naked body
pressed to naked body and he can feel a shiver race through him.  There’s a
hard hot length that feels like a brand against the flesh of his ass and Stiles
can’t help but squirm at the feel.  Derek groans in his ear.
 
“You’re amazing.”  He flicks out his tongue and drags it over the whorl of
Stiles’ ear, tracing the shape and pattern.
 
“Yeah...sure.  Amazing.”  Stiles can’t help the bitterness that coats his
words.  Derek doesn’t move and then he’s dragging him over onto his back and he
can feel him watching his face, it’s a physical sensation.
 
“Stiles, open your eyes.”  Stiles shakes his head, no.  Feels the brush of
Derek’s mouth against his and sighs at the feel.  “Open your eyes for me
sweetheart.”
 
It’s the endearment that makes his eyes pop open wide because...because it
makes something inside him unfurl and glow.
 
“That was amazing, don’t you doubt it for one minute.”  Derek’s watching his
face with red burning eyes. 
 
“Premature ejaculation is not what I envisaged experiencing tonight.”  Stiles
huffs out, heat burning in his face.  “I wanted it to be...perfect.”
 
“That’s not what I saw.”  Derek leans closer and brushes his mouth over the
younger man’s.  “I saw the man I love come untouched because of me...because he
liked what he saw so much that he couldn’t control himself.”  Derek’s breathing
gets faster and deeper as he’s obviously remembering what’s just happened.
 
“Fuck...Stiles you don’t get it do you?  That was the hottest thing I’ve ever
seen in my life and I didn’t just have to clean you up, I had to do myself as
well.  Do you get that?  You made me come, just breathing on me...just coming
in front of me.”  He shakes his head in amazement.  “You do realise that you’re
probably going to kill me when we actually do have sex?”
 
“Oh.”  Stiles can’t think of a thing to say.  That Derek came with him...that
Stiles turns him on so much is a knowledge that he cherishes in the very heart
of him.  It’s a revelation that makes the love that’s been within him for this
man for such a long time, repressed and denied, makes it bloom even brighter,
grow even deeper and he can’t help the smile that stretches his mouth wide. 
“Then we’ll go together.  You do realise there’s nowhere you go that I won’t
follow..”
 
Derek leans down and presses his mouth to Stiles’ and then his tongue is
sweeping into his mouth and they’re kissing with an intensity that’s bruising
and hungry.  When Stiles’ whimpers Derek pulls his head back afraid that he’s
hurt the boy with his passion, because it’s not gentle this feeling - it wants,
it needs and it demands that Stiles give him everything.
 
“Sorrysorry...I...I’m trying...can’t be gentle...I want you so bad Stiles.” 
Derek moves over him, slides his thighs between the leanly muscled slender ones
that have fallen open to allow him access.  When Stiles whimpers and twines a
leg with his, his foot stroking the back of his calf...that simple movement
destroys his good intentions and Derek’s whole body is tight and aching to be
buried deep within the teenager.  “Stiles, I need to fuck you so bad...have to
be inside you.”
 
Derek watches him closely, wanting to make sure that his virgin mate isn’t
afraid.  There’s a momentary widening of Stiles' eyes before the pupils expand,
blown out with desire.  Derek moans hotly.  Stiles wants him.  Wants him to
bury his aching length deep inside him and sweat breaks out all over his body. 
The desperation builds and he needs to prep Stiles before it's too
late, doesn’t want to hurt him.  With trembling hands he reaches out and finds
the bottle of lube that he’d noticed Stiles hide under a pillow.  He rolls
dragging the teenager with him so his naked body is sprawled on top of him, all
over Derek’s.
 
He spreads his legs wide so his knees catch into the backs of Stiles’.  Their
opposing frog-like sprawl pushes their cocks together even harder and the feel
of Stiles’ weight resting on him has Derek shifting beneath him restlessly. 
With one hand he cups the back of the younger man’s head and kisses him with
all the gut-wrenching hunger that is burning throughout his veins.  Tongues
slide together and the moist wet heat, the suckling motion that Stiles does to
his tongue has Derek growling heatedly and he starts to pump his hips up
enjoying the friction as their cocks nudge and rub against each other, their
mingled pre-come just barely smoothing the way.  His other hand slides down the
teenager’s spine to find the sweet curving globes of his ass.
 
He swiftly moves his other hand down and they’re kissing and kissing, not
coming up for air so lost in the sweet exploration of each other’s mouth.  With
both hands on Stiles’ ass, Derek starts to firmly massage each globe, rubbing
the smooth flesh in circles first one way then the other.  He slowly carefully
pulls them apart letting the slightly cooler air touch against normally hidden
hot flesh.  Stiles groans and bucks against Derek’s hips at the new sensation. 
One-handed Derek manages to open the bottle of lube and tip it over the fingers
of one hand and then the other, closing it he tosses it to one side still
within easy reach in case he needs more.
 
With slicked up fingers he resumes stroking Stiles’ ass, dipping into the
valley and massaging, stroking and petting along the crease.  Every time he
passes a finger over the pucker he applies the barest hint of pressure, over
and over it’s ceaseless, relentless and Stiles lifts his head, eyes huge and
dark, his mouth slack and gaping as he wails out Derek’s name in a shaky high
voice.
 
“Dereeek...pleeease.”  He can’t stop bucking against the older man, feeling his
bare naked cock rubbing against the long hard thickness that Derek possesses. 
He’s going insane. There’s no way a mere mortal can endure these sensations
that the werewolf is inducing in him.   Derek’s prising his buttocks open and
the sensation of cool air and hot burning slick fingers rubbing over and over
against that most private and forbidden opening is making him shake
uncontrollably.  Can feel his thighs quivering as he put his hands either side
of Derek’s broad chest and pushes himself up, elbows locking and looks down at
the wolf.
 
“Stiles, baby...you’re so fucking hot...look at you...dripping sweat...cock
leaking.”  Derek watches him with burning red eyes and they scald where ever
his gaze touches his flesh.  His big hands hold him and caress him until
Stiles’ just one big keening groaning mess, a slave to instinct, chasing the
release that he knows only Derek can give him. 
 
When one of Derek’s long thick fingers sweeps across his pucker and presses, it
goes deeper than anything previously, catches the sensitive rim and his greedy
little hole seems to suck it in and Stiles chokes out a moan of the purest
pleasure.  Rocks his hips.. wants it deeper.. reaches back and pushes against
Derek’s hand and forces the thick digit in past the second knuckle and both he
and Derek groan at the sensation.
 
Derek’s going to explode.  If he doesn’t get his swollen aching cock inside
Stiles soon he’s not going to be able to control himself.  Even though he loves
Stiles with every fibre of his being, with every moan, every shift of his hips,
it seems that Stiles pushes him closer and closer to the edge and the line
between consent and forcing himself on the teenager seems blurred.  His skin is
sweat-slick and his groin is coated in their mixed juices and the feel of their
cocks sliding through their combined fluids makes his brain melt. 
 
He dips a second finger towards the rim and it’s all so slick that it seems
Stiles ass just naturally takes everything that Derek has to give it and he’s
pushing in and out of the tightest silkiest passage he’s ever felt.  Stiles has
just been reaching back and rhythmically pushing against the back of Derek’s
hand setting a rhythm for the two fingers that delve into his ass.  When Stiles
twines his fingers with Derek’s and slips one of his own alongside Derek’s two
and into himself, it’s too much he roars in hunger, frustration and desperate
need for his mate.  Pulls their fingers out and slots the head of his fat cock
against the pucker and pushes, just lets the sensitive tip nudge in and out.
 
Stiles is lost to an aching emptiness that seems to be centred in his ass. 
He’s desperate.  He needs filling and Derek’s wrenched away his teasing
tormenting fingers and Stiles wants to punch him...until he feels something
bigger, something hotter nudge at his entrance.  He shakes, whole body tremors
and he’s not sure he has the strength to endure what’s coming.  Derek’s going
to fuck him.  Through the slits of his eyes he can see the other man’s face. 
For a man about to fuck he’s looking particularly grim.  It’s like he’s so
focused on this, to the point that it’s life or death.
 
Derek grabs the lube again and going blind he pours some of the slick fluid
down the crack of Stiles’ ass and feels the boy shiver at the cool sensation
against his burning hot skin.  Groans, as the tremors makes Stiles ass clench
and flex in reaction.  He can feel it slide over the bump of his cock head
nestled so tight and snug against Stiles’ pucker and it runs down the length of
his shaft and begins a ticklish descent down the centre of his ball sac until
it reaches his own clenching pucker and starts to pool.  It’s a long wet line
of connection between them.
 
Derek can feel his whole body tense, every single muscle feels wired with
tension.  He’s ready.  God, so ready to make love to Stiles.  He grits his
teeth and there’s the difference to the others he’s been with he realises.   He
never loved, he never respected, he never valued them, but with Stiles he feels
all those things and more.  He's the reason he’s still here.  That he’s not
gone and gotten himself killed on some suicidal half-assed mission, whether
deliberate or not that would’ve not been up to him to judge until he reached
the other side.  Which is why he’s able to say through gritted teeth and
clenched jaw...
 
“Stiles...I need to...are you ready...God say yes...say yes...please baby...I
need you so bad.”  Derek’s voice is thick and harsh and music to Stiles’ ears.
 
“Yeah, come on Derek. I need you...wanna give you my virginity...want you to
pop my cherry...with your big fucking cock...please.”  Stiles finishes on a
breathy whisper as he looks down at the man beneath him.  The expression on
Derek’s face is one he’ll always remember for the rest of his life.  It’s a
stunned amazement that Stiles is offering himself completely to him, that he’s
gifting him with something so incredibly precious.  His eyes are wide and
pupils are blown, the dark circle swallowing up the surrounding red only
leaving a thin ring.  Derek reaches up and places one palm flat on Stiles’
chest over his heart and it feels like he’s trying to draw all the feelings out
of him and into himself.
 
“I love you.”  Stiles says the words so softly and knows that with his werewolf
hearing that Derek’s heard every word when he feels the hand on his chest
clutch at him and sharp claws press into his skin.  The grim demeanour of his
face lightens and he slowly lets out a long sighing breath.
 
“I don’t deserve you...not in the slightest, but God help me I love you too
Stiles...and I need this so much...if I hurt you stop me...okay.”  Stiles can
only nod his head in response to the earnest tone in Derek’s choked voice.
 
Derek moves his hands to Stiles’ hips and just holds him gently.  Thumbs
rubbing in slow caressing circles against the thin soft skin over his
hipbones. 
 
Stiles can’t wait anymore.  He places his hands palm down on Derek’s broad firm
chest, lets the swipe of his thumb brush against his nipple feels the moan the
other man makes vibrate up through his hand and along his arm.  He’s in a more
upright position than from when they first started, more straddling the other
man and he’s able to rock back in a way that gives him control - depth, speed,
angle. 
 
Feels Derek’s cock head, slick with lube press against the pucker and it’s
rubbing and nudging against a whole buttload of nerves, pun so intended, that
he giggles slightly hysterical, a gurgling noise at the back of his throat. 
With each rise and fall of his hips he can feel that head press deeper and
deeper every time, his breathing gets faster and faster because isn’t this
meant to hurt ‘coz at the moment all he’s feeling is a whole lotta...ughh
yeah...and with a ‘pop’ the entire head has breached Stiles’ ass and it’s a
delicious stretch that bites and stings and makes him gasp.
 
“Stiles.”  Derek has been watching Stiles’ face every agonizing moment the boy
has rocked his pelvis and let Derek’s cock press slightly deeper with each
movement.  His chest is a deep red and the flush not only stains it but has
risen up the length of his slender throat to his face.  He’s red-faced and
shiny with sweat, lips swollen from self-inflicted gnawing bites and it does
things to Derek deep inside seeing his boy caught in the heat and burn of
desire.
 
When his cock head is swallowed up by the greedy little hole, it’s a struggle
to not start thrusting.  He wants to pump into the teenager so badly he growls
in his frustration. 
 
“Are you okay?”  He manages to ask, God only knows how he’s coherent enough.
 
“Oh yeah.”  Stiles groans.  Shifts and dips his pelvis and Derek slides further
into that scorching slick channel, the feel of him wrapped around his throbbing
aching cock is too much...too much.  He drops one hand from Stiles’ hip and
grabs the pretty pink cock that’s bobbing in front of him, his fingers don’t
quite meet where they’re wrapped around it.  It’s so beautiful, long and
slender a perfect match to the rest of him, glistening in the twinkling lights
from the tree Derek gives it a stroke from base to tip, hears the hitching
breath that Stiles makes and then the teenager is rocking back and forth even
harder and faster.  Pumping his cock back and forth in the firm grip of Derek’s
hand and his ass is pushing back further and further and Derek can’t resist
from canting his hips up slightly.
 
Then somehow Derek’s firmly planted deep inside and he can feel those firm
globes resting against his swollen balls.  Fucking hell.  He’s balls deep in
Stiles and Stiles...Stiles is looking down at him with his red-face and pitch-
black eyes, where his pupils have swallowed every bit of the golden brown with
the intensity of his lust.
 
“Derek...if you don’t fucking move right now...I swear-”  Derek pulls back and
thrusts and Stiles’ head tips back and he screams “Yes...fucking yes.”
 
Stiles can feel water leaking from his eyes, tears of almost relief, of a
satisfaction that’s been a long time coming.  He’s so very full, feels like
Derek’s trying to push his way up and out of his throat, he’s so incredibly
deep.  He’s so fucking huge, it’s possibly a good thing that with the dim
lights, the way things have panned out tonight that he’s not actually had a
close up examination of Derek’s cock because the way it feels long and oh so
very thick buried deep in his ass...there’s a very good chance he might’ve run
away screaming from the room.  Wouldn’t that have been a shame?
 
Derek’s one mass of sensation, he’s returned to grabbing both of Stiles’ hips
and the combination of gravity, Stiles’ rocking and Derek’s own efforts to fuck
the boy senseless has him thrusting steadily and powerfully up.  He pushes
Stiles back slightly so the angle shifts and knows he’s definitely found ‘IT’. 
The spot.  When Stiles face lights up as though he’s seen heaven and he’s
screaming Derek’s name, long slender fingers scrabbling and scratching at
Derek’s forearms, as if he’s the only one that can give this to him and save
him from the intensity all at the same time.  His chest is tight and aching at
the sound.
 
Derek’s cock throbs, but it’s different kind of ache.  He looks down the length
of his body to see if he can see any of his cock as it thrusts into Stiles. 
Stiles’ own heavy cock is bouncing up and down, slapping into Derek’s belly on
the downstroke and it’s leaking pre-come furiously smearing it all over his
abdomen with each jolting slap of flesh.  Stiles seems to like it, going by the
way he smiles fiercely watching his cock try and beat him to death.  Derek
feels it again a tightening at the base of his dick, it’s good, really good and
not all at the same time.  He tries to work out what’s going on, when Stiles
gives him the answer.
 
“Holy fuck man...is that...is that a knot?”  He’s panting furiously, eyes
glazed and doesn’t look frightened at the thought.  If anything there’s an
eagerness that has Derek’s wolf howling.  Yesyesknotmatebreedkeepminemine.
 
With his werewolf strength it’s easy to lift the teenager off his groin and he
looks down and can see...yep, he thinks Stiles is right.  There’s a swelling
that wraps around the base of his cock, burns fever hot and almost glows red in
the darkness almost like an ember.  As he changes their position he can’t help
but drag his lips over Stiles swollen ones as he pushes Stiles down with a firm
but gentle hand in the middle of his back onto his hands and knees, before
holding a slender hip with one and taking a firm hold of his shaft with the
other, nearly collapsing when his fingers brush on that swollen knot.  It's a
pleasure so intense it nearly blows the back of his head off.  And that’s
it...that’s fucking it.
 
All rational thought goes out of Derek’s head, he’s being ruled primarily by
instinct now and it’s telling him to fuck his mate to oblivion and knot him and
then...  yeah...bite.  He feeds his cock back into the hole that’s been opened
so well that it didn’t close off, just pulsed like the greedy thing it is
wanting something to fill it, something to stuff it full.
 
“Gonna fuck you Stiles...not like before...gonna knot you...gonna make you
mine.”  There’s the barest pause before Derek says again in a throaty excited
voice.  “In every way...forever.”
 
He thrusts hard and hears Stiles keen and whine and somehow he manages to shrug
off the primitive part for the briefest of moments, the one that revelled in
the sound and asks  “Stiles...you okay?”
 
The teenager has wrapped his arms around a pillow and his head is turned to one
side where he lays on it.
 
“Fuck yeah...come on Derek...make me yours.”  There’s a challenging note in his
voice, one that the Alpha in him can’t ignore.
 
Derek groans and lets the instinctive part of himself regain control and he
growls, realises he’s in his beta form from the claws poking out of his
fingertips and the press of fangs in his mouth and he starts to fuck.  He
whines everytime that his knot presses against Stiles’ rim, batters against it,
demanding entrance.  Can feel the tension rise in him, the desperation.   He
needs to be inside Stiles’ fully when he comes and yet he’s not able to...not
quite and his body feels so tight that he’s positive he’s going to snap
something internally. 
 
Stiles waves an object back at him in his slender fingers.  It’s the bottle of
lube.  The teenager flicks his thumb against the cap and Derek grabs it, not
caring that his claws puncture the bottle and pours it onto his still thrusting
cock and onto his fingers.  Not wanting to stop, he manages to still his hips
just enough to gingerly rub over the swollen knot until it’s well lubed, drops
the bottle and starts to thrust again and this time...this time he’s so slick
and gripping Stiles’ hips so firmly that there is nowhere else for that knot to
go.
 
“Fuck...fuck.”  He roars out the profanity over and over as his knot presses
into the tight grasping clutch of Stiles ass.  Derek drapes himself across
Stiles’ back, arms wrapping around him tight and with one hand pinches a nipple
between two sharp claws and with the other grabs the teenager’s cock in a firm
grip and starts to masturbate him.  Derek’s cock can’t move more than an inch
or two either way now that it’s trapped by its own knot.  But with that couple
of inches he does a lot and he’s whining and licking along Stiles’ back feeling
the way the boy has clamped down on his knot, it massages it entirely.
 
Stiles is getting so close, so close that it makes his eyes screw up tightly
and he uses all of his other senses.  The weight of Derek’s body against his
back is a pleasure that he never realised was even possible, the way he tugs
and pulls at his swollen aching cock, the feel of his hard body pressed tight
against him as he flexes his hips letting that bulging knot rub him internally
in ways that Stiles has never heard of and never dreamt of.  There’s a spot -
the prostate it just has to be, so what if he’s looked it up on the net, a guy
should know what his body is capable of - it’s off the charts when he feels
that pressure of the knot against it.  And fucking Derek is still grinding into
him and it’s shifting and brushing against it, over and over and that’s
it...that’s it.  Stiles can literally feel his eyes rolling back into his head
as he ‘whites out’.  Open eyes that can not see, mouth parted as the scream
erupts from his raw throat and pumping, flexing cock that spurts out come in
thick hot stripes against the towel beneath him.
 
Derek is lost to sensation as he feels the rippling pulses of Stiles’ orgasm,
it grips his cock and knot so very sweetly that he can feel his stomach muscles
tighten and start to convulse  Here it is...the most intense orgasm he’s ever
known and he bites down on the fleshy part of Stiles’ shoulder where it joins
his neck.  Tongue brushing against Stiles’ skin drawing the taste of him into
his mouth. He can see Stiles’ fists twist and grip the blanket as he pants
through a secondary orgasm.  The teenager’s cock flexes and drags out what has
to be the last of his come out of his body and casts it onto the towel with the
rest of his semen.
 
He whines and whimpers against the flesh locked in his mouth by his fangs, can
feel sweat sliding down the sides of his face.  He’s pumping come into his boy
with no apparent end in sight...just endlessly and there’s an immense
satisfaction in knowing that he’s filling his mate up with his seed.  They may
not be able to have biological pups together, but the urge to breed his mate
and fill his belly is an instinct that he can’t and doesn’t want to deny
because it feels so incredibly good, so incredibly right.  Stiles partially
collapses beneath him and Derek takes his weight and gently eases them to one
side, so he can still keep pumping his come into his mate.
 
Stiles is officially not a virgin anymore...uhuh...his v-card has been stamped
and he feels...well damn it he feels wrecked and why shouldn’t he.  He’s come
twice tonight, ridden Derek like he’s in the Kentucky Derby, been knotted... is
still knotted and he’s currently got Derek’s fangs lodged fairly deeply in the
side of his neck and he’s still gotta get up early enough to put the turkey in
the oven for Christmas lunch for the entire pack.  That’s a thought...how long
will they stay tied together like this?  He moves experimentally and realises
no way is that knot releasing right now.   Can hear Derek whimper against his
neck at the movement.
 
“Hey Derbear...how long do you think we’re going to be stuck like this, because
my Dad’s gonna be home around 7.30 this morning and I really, really don’t want
him to see us like this...because I think it might scar him and much as I don’t
like him getting hurt...psychological damage I think we’d struggle with that
one...it’s not like say a good old fashioned maiming like we’re used to...or a
bullet or knife wound like he is...werewolf sex with knotting involving his
son, let’s just say my Dad has a gun...Derek...what the hell’s wrong with
me...why can’t I shut up?”  Stiles sounds anxious and jittery.  Like his
brain’s been overloaded and it just has to come out somehow.  Derek thinks
maybe with all the...physical activity Stiles has just burnt through the
Adderall in his body a lot quicker than normal.
 
Teeth still firmly locked in place Derek can only think of one thing to do and
he slides his hand up Stiles’ chest and strokes his face finding his wide mouth
and slides his thumb in and feels the tension almost instantly dissipate from
Stiles’ body as he suckles on the broad digit in his mouth.
 
“Fwank woo.”  Stiles says around his thumb.  The room goes quiet and it’s warm
and cosy and his mate is curled up in his arms and they are safe and in love
and much as he wants to savour it, he can feel his eyes droop closed.  Derek
reaches down by his feet and drags the blanket up and over them.  He feels
complete and it is entirely because of the boy he holds close to his heart.  
 
Hope is something Derek's not felt for such a long time and it takes him a
moment to recognise the strange feeling that's coursing through him.  With
Stiles he can do, can be anything  The possibilities are endless and he drifts
off to sleep dreaming of their future...together.
 
It’s the scent of gun oil that wakes him in the morning.  Gun oil and cologne.
 Wants to kick himself, he's lowered his guard to much and endangered them both
now. He realises with horror that there’s another heartbeat in the room with
them and he sits up and somehow drags Stiles behind him...has to protect his
mate at all costs and he’s growling at the threat...ready to tear...the Sheriff
apart?  Oh boy.  He looks over his shoulder and realises that Stiles hasn’t so
much as stirred he’s in such a deep sleep.
 
The Sheriff stands in the entrance to the lounge room surveying the scene and
Derek can see his eyes instantly focus on the video recorder and laptop on the
coffee table as it does on the fact that Derek is obviously not wearing any
clothes and neither is his underage son beneath the blanket.  He gulps when he
sees that the Sheriff’s hand is resting on his holster, fingers tapping non-
stop.  There’s a look in his eyes that says he’s seriously contemplating
shooting first, asking questions later and disposing of the body somewhere that
it will never ever be found.
 
“You are damn lucky young man that the first thing you did when you woke up was
protect my son.”  His voice is stern and Derek can feel his guts churn.  He
hasn’t heard that tone of voice...not since his own father.
 
“I can see how this may have happened.” His blue eyes flash to the video
recorder and a softness lightens them momentarily before they harden again. 
“But Stiles is 17 and even though he’s only a couple of months away from his
birthday it’s still against the law, particularly when it’s with someone nine
or ten years older than him who should damn well know better.”
 
“Twenty three.” 
 
“What?”  The Sheriff sounds puzzled.
 
“I’m twenty three.”  Derek just sounds young.  “Are you going to shoot me?”  He
asks as the silence continues.
 
“Hold on...I’m thinking about it.”  He pauses.  “But, it’s Christmas Day and I
don’t shoot anyone on Christmas Day.  However, I do have long talks with
prospective boyfriends of my teenage son the day after for a leftovers lunch.”
 
“Boyfriend.”  Derek chokes out, not quite believing the turn this conversation
is taking.
 
“I know my son Derek...and I think I know you too.  I can tell this is
something...more.”  The Sheriff turns to walk away, but looks back over his
shoulder.  “I’m going to grab a couple hours sleep and when I get up this room
had better be cleaned up, definitely aired out and sheets and blankets washed
so I can almost pretend it didn’t happen.  Right?”
 
“Yes sir.”  Derek’s dumbfounded.  He listens to the sounds of Stiles’ Dad going
up the stairs and his bedroom door closing.  He almost jumps when he feels a
hand slide up his back and caress the Triskelion in the middle of his back.
 
“That went a whole lot better than I expected.”  Stiles sits up and wraps his
arms around Derek’s shoulders.  Kisses him softly on one.  Derek reaches up
with one hand and idly strokes the slender yet strong arm that encircles him.
"Woke up to hear the end of it."
 
“I was sure he was going to shoot me.”  He gathers the teenage boy into his
arms and holds him close.  “Are you okay?  Not sore or anything?”
 
“Nah...my ass aches a bit...but it’s the good kind.”  He hastens to add when it
looks like Derek’s about to flip him over and examine him closely.  He presses
his lips against Derek’s and sighs.
 
“Now we’ve just got to tell the rest of the pack.”
 
“Er...that won’t be a problem.”  Derek says hesitantly.
 
“Oh...you mean they’ll smell us...like together huh?”  Stiles screws up his
face.  “That scent thing you guys do it’s just not playing fair.”
 
“Well yes, they’ll smell us...but Stiles there’s something else as well.”  He
pauses and Stiles thinks he looks like he’s struggling to phrase something in a
way that won’t sound godawful but really is.  Just lets him dig himself in
deeper.  “After last night...because I’m their Alpha...er...they might act
differently towards you.”
 
“What?  You think they won’t like it?  That we’re together.”  Stiles can feel
something inside him shrivel.
 
“The exact opposite.  They will really, really like it...they'll know that
you're the Alpha’s mate.”  He ducks his head as the last bit comes out as a
whisper and he can see Stiles’ eyes have grown bigger and wider.
 
“Mate.  Are you telling me...the knotting.”  He says almost excitedly.  “It was
the knotting wasn’t it?  So I’m your mate now.”
 
“Yes and yes.  It was the knotting and when I claimed you...bit you...Stiles
being my mate, for me it’s a one time only deal.”  Derek looks at him then and
Stiles can see and feel how serious this is to the other man.  Takes a moment
to absorb the information and then looks startled.
 
“You mean.”  He points at himself.
 
“That’s right.  There will never be another for me as long as I live.”  Derek
leans forward until his mouth rests against Stiles’ wide one.  Stiles who’s
been looking stunned for the longest moment suddenly throws himself at the
other man and knocks him down onto his back.
 
“I can so live with that.”  He presses a kiss to Derek’s startled open mouth. 
“It’s always been you, since that first moment I saw you.  I’ve never wanted
anyone or anything more than this.”
 
Stiles starts to grind his naked body against Derek’s.  Kissing and nipping,
his breath catches as Derek lifts his chin and exposes his throat and that
just...fuck...Stiles knows what a big deal it is for his wolf to bare his
throat to the younger man.  He places his mouth on Derek’s adam’s apple and
hears the whine of pleasure that escapes his mate’s throat and licks a hot wet
stripe up the length before kissing him with a passion and need that flares
brightly between them.
 
“Stiles...your Dad’s home.”  Derek whispers hoarsely.
 
“So...we’ll just have to be very quiet...if you can.”  He challenges with a
snicker, maybe a little recklessly when Derek sweeps him up into his arms and
nuzzles hotly below his ear.  “Do your worst...or best in twenty minutes
because that’s when I’ve got to put the turkey in the oven.”
 
“I love you Stiles...and you’re so on.”  Derek says breathlessly.
 
“Love you Derek...best Christmas ever.”
 
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