Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/458266.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Kate_Argent/Derek_Hale
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Kate_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference, Canon_Het_Relationship, Mental_Coercion, Internalized
      Homophobia, Pre-Slash, Dubious_Consent, Underage_Drinking
  Series:
      Part 1 of Face_Forward,_Walk_Blind
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-07-13 Words: 2752
****** Go Down and Drown ******
by night_reveals
Summary
     The first time Derek meets Kate, he's on the cusp of sixteen.
     “I’m old enough for anything,” he says.
Notes
     slight change to canon here re: possibility of inebriation.
The party is booming, the walls of the house shuddering with music like a body
strained and trembling.
From the lawn Derek watches the people inside mill aimlessly about, using half-
smiles to try to look engaged. He drains a longneck and tosses it aside, trying
for the same. Earlier his brothers egged him on about being young, about
sticking out, so Derek chose to wear a tight shirt and leather boots. So far
all it has earned him is a wandering hand from some guy in the smoking room, a
hand Derek promptly smashed against a wall like a glass globe, bones exploding
in his grip. Luke must have let Derek leave the house looking gay on purpose.
God forbid little brother got laid, ever.
Lost in his scowling and his senses dulled by the surroundings, Derek misses
her approach.
“Hey, baby boy,” comes a voice from behind him, followed by a girl -- young but
older than him, and completely sober -- taking the grass beside him.
“Hi,” returns Derek warily, taking his uninvited companion’s measure. She’s
wearing tight jeans and a brown leather jacket despite the heated night, her
blonde hair swept into the curl of her collar. At second glance she’s obviously
a woman; she’s seen enough sun for it to have etched slight lines into her
forehead. Maybe a college student with too many trips to Cancun.
“So, how’s the night treating you?” The woman lifts an eyebrow, her eyes
tracing Derek’s body, lingering on his tight shirt and belt. Derek finds
himself warming to her for no reason and he splays himself out a little more on
the cool grass of the lawn.
“‘s alright.”
“‘Alright’?” repeats the woman, her voice kind but her smile sharp. “Well
aren’t you the little conversationalist.”
Derek bites the inside of his mouth, even the four beers sloshing around in his
stomach not enough to squelch his nerves. Luke said college girls were harder
to charm. “Sorry,” Derek says after a moment, shrugging like he doesn’t care
what this pretty woman thinks.
The woman throws her head back and laughs. It sounds faked but it’s still
attractive, and Derek appreciates her efforts to set him at ease. She turns her
body closer to him and scoots across the grass, putting herself in reach.
“Truthfully, I need a different skill set from you tonight.” The hand she runs
over his bare arm feels like fire on his skin. Derek swallows and thinks about
the single condom he’s got tucked into his wallet in his back pocket. Luke can
suck it because Derek’s got hottie hitting on him.
She puts a hand at his shoulder and levers herself up with it, offering him a
hand he doesn’t need. He takes it anyway. When he’s up on her level, she laughs
again, quieter this time.
“Come out to my truck and help me with something?”
Too worried his voice will break, Derek just nods, his eyes going to her slick
lips.
“Good,” she says, honeyed.
Darkness sets in only a few yards from the house, the flashing lights from
inside the party halving with their progress, as if curtains are falling around
them. The night holds no surprises for Derek; every step he takes away from the
throb of music is another step into his world and his comfort zone. Cool air
wisps off the trees and tussles their hair, the woman’s bangs sweeping back to
frame her face.
“So, uh.” Derek keeps his eyes on her, knowing she won’t be able to see his
gaze. “What’s your name?”
“Kate.”
Derek lets a beat go by, before remembering to keep up the conversation.
“You’re a student?”
Again her tinkling laughter fills the air, tickling Derek’s senses. Though he
has no idea what she’s laughing about, it feels like something he could get
used to hearing.
“I study,” she concedes.
Around them night suddenly lightens, the huge outdoor lamps set up by the
party’s hosts illuminating the clearing where everyone left their cars. No
rhyme or reason governs the parking, and Derek sees that a Jeep is blocking in
his brother’s Mazda. Luke won’t be happy about that.
Taking another step, Kate points to the edge of the clearing, where metal
gleams blue in the moonlight. “That’s Reese.”
Derek follows her finger diligently, but see no one. He eventually realizes,
“You named your truck?”
Kate turns to him. “Yes. Maybe you’ll understand once you can drive.”
Bristling with embarrassment, Derek says, “I can drive. I’m --” eighteen, no,
she’s got to be at least twenty, so “twenty-one.”
A smile greets his announcement. “Are you?” Kate’s eyebrow lifts. “Big,
strapping thing like you. Be hard to tell otherwise.”
Her words are discordant music to his ears. It sounds perfect to him (Derek is
tired of having to hide his strength, tired of pretending) but her eyes flick
over Derek’s face and body like she’s wondering where to stick her knife and
fork first. On second thought, that doesn’t sound so bad -- his brothers would
probably laugh at Derek for pausing at all. Derek shakes himself.
“I’m old enough for anything,” he finally gets out.
“So I won’t get in trouble for this, will I?” Kate comes forward and puts a
hand on Derek’s arm, her nails digging into his flesh. It feels good against
the cool air, and Derek leans towards her, catching her scent on a floating
breeze.
“No way.” Taking a deep breath, Derek braces himself and slides to her front,
wondering who should make the first move. He’s bending over, craning his neck
down just enough to see that the black crayon around her eye is smudged, before
she abruptly turns.
“Good,” she says, gesturing to the back of her truck. “Because the last thing I
need is a citation for providing alcohol to minors.”
That’s when he finally looks into the bed of the truck. Sure enough, at least a
dozen six-packs sit nestled together, a tarp half-heartedly covering them.
Sharp disappointment slides into his stomach, his blood cooling automatically.
“Oh,” he says, edged with disappointment.
“‘Oh’?” Kate looks him up and down. “Look, kid, I don’t know what you expected
when I brought you out here. I thought you were going to help me bring these
inside, that’s all.” Immediately Derek feels both ashamed and defensive. He
isn’t one of those guys who pressure girls; his mother has made sure of that.
If she could see him now, she’d be disappointed.
“No,” protests Derek. Then, “‘Course I’ll help you.”
“Well, all right then.” Kate puts a hand on her hip, cocking her head at Derek,
the moon falling straight onto her face. As is to console him, Kate adds, “Why
don’t we crack open a few, first? I just got here, so they’re still cold.”
Partiers stumble out to cars through the next few hours, their designated
drivers following behind and cursing in annoyance. One guy Derek recognizes as
Luke’s friend is rolling his eyes as he drags two other recalcitrant drunks
behind him. Derek and Kate heckle him from the bed of Kate’s truck, laughing
when he flicks them both off and shouts back .
Bottles pile up around them as the clearing empties of cars, till it’s her
truck and a few others left, the party winding down at last. Derek sees Luke in
passing and they nod at each other across the clearing, Luke offering his
normal shit-eating grin. Eventually only the muffled boom of a far-off stereo
makes it to Derek’s ears, and he watches with slightly unfocused eyes as one
last kid stumbles to his car in the pitch-black night. Somewhere inside
himself, Derek knows he shouldn’t let anyone drive like that. But Derek’s so
drunk, and the thought disappears as soon as Kate’s jeans rub his when she
stretches out her legs.
Even Luke thinks she’s a catch; Derek can’t fuck this up.
“Hey,” Kate says from beside him, and all thoughts of anyone else flee like
deer in the forest. She points to the empty beers around them. “We failed at
bringing these in.”
“Uh-huh,” says Derek, taking one last swig of his longneck. He does not know
how many this one makes. There are -- six, eight, nine, -- a lot of empty
bottles around him.
“Are you drunk?” asks Kate, holding a hand over her mouth to cover her
laughter. “Wow. I didn’t know that even things like -- that even teenage boys
could get drunk. You’re supposed to have such amazing metabolisms.”
Quickly Derek tries to correct his slouch, but only ends up knocking empty
bottles off Kate’s truck onto the soft bed of grass and mud that is the forest
floor below. Two bottles hit each other on the way down, glass cracking in the
cool night. Derek is terribly embarrassed.
“I’m sorry for teasing you earlier.” Kate runs a hand down his arm and pushes
her leg closer to his, her voice lowering. Derek swallows, wishing he had
another beer to clutch. He’s actually never done this. “But I’m glad we’re
alone now. Aren’t you?”
When he moves his head, Derek feels like he’s swimming in something, his
motions delayed and sluggish. She’s still beautiful, though, the moon streaming
down and running through her blonde hair, hitting the arch of her eyebrows, the
hairs there slightly unsettled.
“‘m glad,” replies Derek at last, offering a toothy smile.
She moves closer again, putting a hand on his thigh and brushing her thumb over
his jeans, shit.
“So, Derek,” she says, closing in, her hand working in circles on his thigh,
till Derek is breathing in time with her movements, entranced enough that he
doesn’t even think about the fact that he never told her his name.
Unable to take it, Derek lets himself fall forward, gravity suddenly more
powerful than it’s ever been before. His nose hits hers but it doesn't even
matter because she smells clean like a leaf after rain, smoky like her
terrifying smile, irresistible. Just when he’s close to her lips, her breath
hitting his own teasingly, she offers him her cheek, moving her lips down his
neck instead of kissing him.
Derek groans, bucking his hips -- shit, when did she get his belt undone? He
puts a ginger hand at her back, fingers trailing over her shirt, but a moment
later she knocks him away.
“Hey,” starts Derek, confusion coming easily with his lust. “‘s wrong?”
In response she straddles him, pinning his hands above his head on the truck
bay.
“Stay.”
Swallowing, Derek nods. She’s grinding against him in this position and he
can’t think, he can’t think at all -- she isn’t smiling coyly even, anymore,
just staring down at him, studying him.
Shuffling back on her knees, she gets herself farther down his body and begins
to unzip his pants. He’s sixteen and a werewolf, so it doesn’t matter how much
alcohol he has: he’s hard in his black briefs, his dick swollen and aching for
a touch, and Derek bites his lip hard when she rucks down his jeans a little
too roughly and the material scratches over him.
“Kate,” says Derek softly, lifting his head up and getting onto his forearms,
now that she’s let him go.
“Shh,” hushes Kate, finally smiling again. “Shh, baby boy. I just want to see
Derek Junior, is all. What he looks like.” She strokes over his fabric-covered
cock, nails dangerous but amazing, so much better than his hand has ever been.
Derek’s never thought much about his cock before. It’s a good size, from what
little he’s gleaned from porn and locker rooms, but it’s not grotesque. The
only thing strange about it is that it’s uncut. Before he can say yes or no,
though, Kate is taking down his briefs, his cock springing up when she does,
fully hard and eager. A line of precum connects it to the fabric for a brief
moment and Derek looks away, breathing deep and not thinking of the beautiful
woman on top of his body, or the fact that she’s actually staring at his cock
like it’s fascinating, fuck.
“Look at you.” Kate lets his boxers snap against the skin at his thighs,
effectively keeping his legs together. “Strange.”
“‘m just uncut,” offers Derek, cheeks ruddy. He pumps his hips once into the
air, his eyes drawn to her mouth even though he’d be happy with a hand, hell,
happy with just a kiss at this point. For a second the woods crowd back in, the
smell of pine and squirrel and underbrush coming up on him, reminding him of
how ridiculous he must look, pinned under a woman with his dick like a mast in
the sky. It’s only temporary, though, and when Kate leans down, he forgets all
his misgivings again.
“Uncut, yeah. That’s what you are.” She laughs, and her breath actually whisps
over his dick. Derek moans. He can’t take this anymore, Kate above him, Kate so
close, Kate’s mouth just inches from his cock. He didn’t know this woman when
the night started, but now he’ll never forget her or her name.
“Kate, Kate.” Writhing, Derek bites at his own arm to keep himself still under
her, to keep himself a gentleman.
“Wait.” Kate runs a hand under his shirt, letting her fingers play in the trail
of hairs under his belly button.
“C’mon, please, touch me.”
Instead of replying, Kate lifts her hand and puts a finger at Derek’s mouth,
pushing a little at his lips. He immediately opens, not knowing what to do.
“Suck my fingers like you want me to suck you,” instructs Kate, wicked smile
flickering over her face like fire.
Derek does, one finger down, then two, then three, suckling sweetly, just
thinking of what she’ll look bending over to take him in her mouth, her lips
wet and plump, eyes mischievous, hair flowing over her shoulder.
She pulls her finger from his mouth with no warning, his spit coating them,
reflecting moonlight when she lowers them over Derek’s body. There is a tiny
dot of precome beading up out of Derek’s cock, perfectly oval and shaking with
his breaths. Extending a spit-wet, tapered pointer finger, Kate collects it
daintily and brings it to her mouth where she wraps her lips around it and
sucks.
It’s literally seconds later that Derek is coming, coming all over his own
chest as he strips his cock with his hand, unable to hold back and painfully
eager. Kate simply looks down, a satisfied little smirk riding the edges of her
lips.
The few minutes after Derek comes are always painful, his senses heightened to
a frightening degree even for a werewolf, his emotions running full-throttle
with no brakes to stop them. Kate clambers off of him but Derek can’t move, his
thighs shaking and his stomach roiling. His ears pick up both the far-off hoot
of a newly molted barn owl and the chirp of a thousand cicadas, his skin
tingles at the cool metal of Kate’s truck below and itches from the harsh
material of his jeans, his eyes attune to every flicker of a bat’s wings
circling above them. It’s beautiful but scary, the way he can melt into nature,
echoing and observing everything around him. Luke said that it wears off
eventually, that one day it won’t both destroy and elevate Derek like it does
now, but Derek doesn’t know if he believes that, if he ever wants to believe
that. The bat above catches a mosquito in its mouth, crunching the tiny body,
but to him it sounds like a collision --
Kate touches his shoulder and Derek flinches.
He manages to get into the cab of her truck without looking completely drunk or
completely psycho even though his skin, his skin feels like it’s going to
vibrate off of him, like he’s going to shed it right here and right now. The
only thing that makes it better is looking at Kate’s lips, red and chapped, and
he stares at them the whole drive over, knowing he’s creepy yet unable to help
it.
The Hale house bursts from the surrounding forest like a predator from its a
hiding spot, unexpected and breath-taking, but Kate seems unfazed as she parks
her truck and reaches out to put her hand on Derek’s cock, rubbing
possessively.
She leaves him in his own driveway with a hard-on and her number, and when
Derek goes to sleep that night it’s to the tune of Kate, Kate, Kate.
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