Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12388506.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Vernon_Boyd/Derek_Hale
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Vernon_Boyd
  Additional Tags:
      Bottom_Boyd, reflecting_and_feeling_while_fucking, Alpha_Derek, Fluff_and
      Smut, Alive_Vernon_Boyd, Established_Relationship, Praise, some_back_and
      shoulder_worship, brief_mention_of_Isaac_Erica_and_Jackson, Hale_Pack,
      Affection, terms_of_endearment, At_this_point_in_the_show_Boyd_is_still
      like_17_so_I_checked_the_underage_warning, Praise_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-17 Words: 2395
****** Hold These Precious Limbs (Your Comfort, Your Armor) ******
by Restless_Sunday
Summary
     "The thing about being loved by Derek Hale is that it’s made Boyd
     develop a sudden hyper-awareness of his back and shoulders."
     Boyd reflects on what it means to be Derek Hale's beta and boyfriend,
     what it means to understand how a pack can work as a body, and his
     place within that body.
     This story is inspired by the Paige backstory and the idea that
     losing a pack member is like losing a limb. It's set after season 2
     but the deaths of season 3 do not happen, Derek is still an alpha,
     and Jackson is a part of the Hale pack.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
         It’s the end of February and Beacon Hills is essentially done with its
brief interlude of chilly days. Nights are starting to warm up again but are
still windy enough that keeping sheets on the bed seemed like a logical idea.
Yet they’ve ended up on the floor just a few inches to the left of the bed,
pushed off by two pairs of bare feet. And almost all the pillows have been
flung away, landing on the far-right corner of Boyd’s bedroom. All except the
one providing cushion to Boyd’s face and lightly sticking to the skin that is
beginning to dampen with the combination of his and Derek’s body heat. Boyd
loves it when there is basically nothing to distract him from the way his body
gets covered by Derek’s. He can feel the weight of them push his old mattress
down further onto the frame. He can feel the weight of them push him farther
away from loneliness. And he knows what it means to Derek to have permission to
press down on someone else, to rest.
          “Shea,” Boyd calls him by the middle name that he’s certain no one
else knows.
            “Ve?”    
          Derek nuzzles his neck, thrusting in deep. Boyd tilts his head
farther to the side, giving Derek more access to his face, and sinks further
into the mattress. They’d had a healthy but nerve wracking conversation about
what they liked a few months after starting their relationship. Among other
things, Boyd confessed to wanting his face touched more. It’d been a bit of an
awkward moment, but once he explained how intimate it felt when Derek brushed
his nose, his lips, his fingertips across his cheek, Derek began finding every
opportunity to do so (1). Derek keeps moving, so steady in his rhythm that Boyd
groans, aching for a little more.
        “You were saying something baby?”  
        A puff of air escapes his lips as he lightly laughs at Derek’s innocent
tone. The man knows exactly how distracting the motion of his hips is; Boyd’s
trails of thought are suspect to erasure.
         Derek presses a small kiss to Boyd’s sideburn. “Baby?”
         Boyd hums in response and taps his thigh twice, the signal to stop his
thrusting while Boyd adjusts. He reaches for the bottle of lube on the right
upper corner of the bed, pops the cap open and sloppily lubes up his fingers.
He then reaches behind him with his left hand, knuckles skimming Derek’s sides
as he goes, and wiggles his fingers between the thick cheeks until he feels
Derek’s puckered rim. He rests his right hand on the bed and pushes up, the
position leaving his shoulders arched and lessening the strain on his left arm
as it reaches backwards but increasing the strain on his right. The position
also makes the muscles of his shoulder bunch up and-
And Derek moans -just the sensual sound Boyd wanted echoing off the surfaces of
his room -from deep in his gut at the sight. Boyd bites his lip as Derek licks
the warm, bunched up skin in front of him and presses his mouth to the middle.
       The thing about being loved by Derek Hale is that it’s made Boyd develop
a sudden hyper-awareness of his back and shoulders. This is a result of little
moments. Like when he’s studying and Derek smooths a hand down his back before
stretching out beside him and reading through one of his mother’s old books
(2). Or when he briefly squeezes Boyd’s shoulder as he…
                    • grabs something in the kitchen cabinet behind him,
                    • as he waits for Boyd to settle in the passenger seat of
his car and greets him,
                    • as he pulls him out of thoughts of Alicia,
                    • during a hectic shift as he urges him to find his anchor.
        Some time had passed before he started to consider that it might be a
thing for Derek. But then he’d been unlucky enough to find his life in kanima
related danger -again- and the teen-turning-into-beast problem inspired Derek
to tell him about Paige (3). Once Derek got to Ennis’ loss and explained that
losing a member of the pack is like losing a limb, Boyd understood exactly what
Derek’s habit meant.
       He soon took to thinking of betas as body parts. Despite the distance,
Jackson is the eyes. The eyes, one searching for signs of weakness in any
opponent and the other switching between gazing to the future and looking
inwards. Erica is Derek’s link to his feet and ankles, the parts that guide him
through confident strolls, that bear the weight of what settles above.
Sometimes she is his knees, helping him stand up from the ground again and
again. Isaac is Derek’s hands, curiously grazing the world in search of
something to grasp onto but unafraid to be the source of destruction along the
way. And Boyd is Derek’s shoulders and back, where opposing emotions meet and
balance, then create a barrier against the world, exuding strength while
withstanding pain; the place that gives the rest of the body its signal for how
calm or reckless its stance should be.
Boyd sees how battles affect him. How the sight of his betas hurt makes his
moves a little more careless, his exhaustion that much stronger once the fight
has passed. He wonders if Derek has noticed his awareness. Or if deep down in
his mind, he still assumes that no one quite sees him.
      Yet despite the stories and mental notetaking, Boyd feels this awareness
the most when Derek is inside of him. When he’s fucking into him slowly and
steadily, kissing along the back of his shoulders, licking circles between the
muscular blades as if kissing the triskele on his own back. Or whenever Derek
is the one with his back arched, ass up, hands pulling Boyd until he’s draped
along his back and threading their hands together, keeping them close.
       Even with supernatural strength, Boyd’s arms start to throb. He holds
the position for another few moments for the sake of the whinny pitch of
Derek’s moan and his instinctual, rough thrusts in and out of Boyd’s asshole.
The motion gets Derek as deep as Boyd needs him to be. Boyd notes that Derek
has relaxed enough around the finger he pushed inside him and slides in
another. He’s rewarded with some more erratic movements once he moves the two.
         “Fuck.”
          Derek’s mouth sucks at the back of his right shoulder before settling
on the hinge of his jaw, a warm cavern that dampens Boyd’s skin and shortens
the distance between his boyfriend’s moans and his ear. He widens his legs to
give Boyd better access. His tongue peeks out and lightly licks Boyd’s jaw.
          “Veeeee” He drags out the sound of the e, creating a brief sensual
song that ends in a rough gasp.
          Their hips begin to move in tandem. With every sway, Boyd feels the
warmth of Derek’s hole around his fingers, the weight and width of Derek’s dick
inside him, and the heat of every moan against his face. Here and there, he can
feel fangs graze his skin. To anyone else, this would be alarming. But for
Boyd, it is just a reminder that he has his alpha like this, close (so close),
vulnerable and powerful all at once and most importantly, real. He won’t go
anywhere that Boyd doesn’t want him to be.
          As predicted, the twinge of discomfort in Boyd’s arm grows. Derek
tries to keep Boyd’s fingers inside, squeezes Boyd’s side as he pulls them out.
          “Arm’s getting sore, pull out and face me.”
         Derek does as requested and Boyd flips around to lie on his back.
Derek wastes no time in carefully cupping the back of his knees and pushing his
legs up. He rubs his thumb over Boyd’s hole and presses a hand on the back of
his thigh. He pushes lightly, signaling him to lift his legs more. Boyd grasps
his knees and keeps his legs open wide, eyes closing at the sensation of his
boyfriend’s touch. He’s always surprised by how smooth Derek’s skin is. He’s so
used to seeing the older man get hurt that he forgets that their very nature
erases signs of resilience.
         Boyd gets so caught up in the feeling that he momentarily forgets his
plan and lets Derek slide back inside with a squelch of freshly applied lube
and a groan. Derek rests a hand next to Boyd’s hip and uses the other one to
grab his dick. Boyd hisses through his teeth, abs tightening and relaxing as
Derek grips him and slides his hand up and down, rubbing his thumb along the
head as he goes. Pressing his weight down on the hand he has by his hip, Derek
starts fucking him again. Boyd curls his hips in such a way that every time his
ass meets Derek’s dick halfway, his dick also slightly thrusts up in Derek’s
hand.
         Soft moans start building up in Boyd’s throat, releasing in little
muffled sounds. Derek’s eyes glow red. He lifts his hand by Boyd’s side and
slowly slides up Boyd’s leg to his hip to his stomach, to his pecs. He leans
forward to shorten the distance between their torsos. The pace of his hips
slows as he focuses on observing Boyd’s reaction. Boyd grabs his wrist, thumb
pressed against the veins, and pulls his hand up to his mouth, where he knows
is boyfriend wants to touch. Derek traces the curve of his top lip and quickens
his pace to what it was before. The corners of Boyd’s lips curl upwards. He
licks at Derek’s fingertips, tasting the comforting layer of salt there. The
pleasure serves to remind Derek of what he’s no longer touching, and Boyd
immediately catches on to the slight lift of frustration in Derek’s brow. Boyd
runs his hands down Derek’s torso, pinches the nipples the way he knows he
likes.
        “Baby,” Derek extends his words again, desire evident in its volume.
       Boyd doesn’t respond with words, the reassurance of “I’m here” is clear
as he reaches down between them and squeezes Derek’s balls, gently but long
enough to make him shiver. Derek in turn starts to thrust faster, harder,
deeper. But all of this does not make the frustration disappear.
       This happens sometimes, Derek craves the sturdiness of his back but
doesn’t voice it, the desire so deep inside that he doesn’t always realize
there is something to voice. It’s in moments like these that Boyd realizes just
how much of a force he is in his boyfriend’s life; so much so that slight
distance and anatomical metaphors can affect him in such a way. The realization
warms up his insides every time, makes him inhale a warm scent -far more
pleasant than the acrid scent of loneliness he was used to choking on- and
exhale any remaining tension.
        “Shea,” he grazes Derek’s pointer and middle fingers with teeth and
tongue as he says the name.
          He taps Derek’s thigh twice and although confusion creases his face,
he immediately stops.
        “Do something for me.” He tells him and Derek nods. Boyd grabs Derek’s
hips and tugs downwards until Derek releases his knees and the little bit of
distance between their chests completely disappears. Boyd rolls his shoulders
back and Derek’s eyes -still red- track the movement. He carefully slides his
arms under Boyd’s and curls his fingers around the shoulders. They press their
foreheads together.
         “So good to me, so strong,” Derek whispers, the comment accompanied by
a squeeze to his shoulders.
          Boyd’s eyes drift closed at the words and he feels as if something is
shifting inside him, healing.
         He licks his lips as Derek whispers the praise again and replies,
“Come on Shea, show me how much you want-
         “need you.”
          “Yes,” he nods, bumping their foreheads together “yes.”
         Derek is the one that closes his eyes now, tucks his face into Boyd’s
neck, mouth slightly gaping and ready to suck at the dark, smooth skin at any
time. His fingers grip Boyd’s shoulders, fingers digging in. Boyd wraps his
long, thick legs around Derek’s waist while Derek fucks him on and on and on
and on…drawing steady moans from him and bringing him closer to release.
         Boyd grips Derek’s hair while he presses hungry kisses to Boyd’s neck
and licks thick lines from his collar bone to his jaw. Derek lets go of one
shoulder long enough to grab Boyd’s hand and direct it to his dick, a silent
order to touch himself. Boyd complies and starts stroking in a pattern meant to
match that of Derek’s hips. The rhythm isn’t quite right but he feels pleasure
along so much of his body, that it doesn’t matter. Derek starts whispering
variations of the praise again (“so strong baby, so good. I need you, I need
you…good to me”). The combination of his hand, Derek’s dick, and his soft
claims finally bring Boyd to orgasm, and he comes on his hand and Derek’s
stomach and with his love’s name exhaled out of his smiling mouth.
         After a moment, he realizes that Derek has yet to come. He taps his
thigh twice and turns around to lay on his stomach. Derek shifts up and
brackets Boyd’s sides with his knees. He squeezes one ass cheek with his left
hand while he uses the right to stroke his dick quickly, desperately. It only
takes a few strokes for his fangs to come out and his stomach to tense as he
orgasms. His come lands on Boyd’s back in long stripes. Boyd shakes his ass
beneath his hips.
        “Clean me up,” he requests, momentarily grasping the air out of Derek’s
chest.
        Derek shifts on top of him and leans down. He flattens his tongue on
the middle of his back and starts licking upwards, tickling the skin, tasting
his come and the salt of Boyd’s sweat. He lies on top of him when he’s done,
his thumbs rubbing circles along his shoulders. Boyd settles into the post-
orgasm haze and lets the weight of his boyfriend, his alpha, the man that has
deemed him a wall of strength and wisdom, push him further into the mattress.
He lets himself be small and immense at the same time, until the sentiment
lulls him to sleep.
End Notes
     Footnotes:
     1. “It’s how focused you are when you touch my face. Not just the
     feel, but your gaze. When you’re here- “Boyd grabbed Derek’s hand and
     pressed it to his cheek, “you’re completely here.”
     Boyd was never much for discussion, even before Alicia, but when he
     did speak, he was honest and steady.
     Derek had rubbed his thumb along Boyd’s cheekbone and kept his face
     serious, his voice matter-of-fact, “well you know I’m great at
     gazing.”
     2. the ones that hadn’t fit in their home library and had been in
     storage -a 5x5 unit that Talia only used to keep a home with a
     constantly growing family as clutter free as possible. She never
     considered that it’d become a blessing for her eldest children, a
     treasure chest of nostalgia, guilt, and love.
     3. In a move that surprised most, Jackson soon returned from London
     and demanded that Derek train him. He felt that after everything, the
     alpha most definitely owed him. The process hadn’t been easy and
     getting Jackson to learn how to find a way to merge the Kanima and
     the Werewolf involved a lot of bloody, exhausting nights.
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