Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/678959.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Vernon_Boyd/Derek_Hale
  Character:
      Vernon_Boyd, Derek_Hale, Scott_McCall_(Teen_Wolf), Isaac_Lahey, Erica
      Reyes, Stiles_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      bottom!Derek, Boxing, Hand_Jobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-10 Words: 6305
****** I Got Some Moves (just for you) ******
by CityOfPaperBuildings
Summary
     As Boyd and Derek's relationship strengthens over the summer, so do
     their feelings for one another.
Notes
     I've taken slight liberty with the Alpha pack storyline in that
     they're a presence but not an immediate one. For the purposes of my
     story, Boyd & Erica did run away from Derek's pack but did not
     encounter the Alphas and Jackson has been folded into the pack.
     This is unbetad so all mistakes are my own.
Boyd sat on the porch steps of the Hale household and looked around as Derek
had the pack run yet another training exercise; this one being track and
capture. Boyd had been taken out first as Scott & Isaac snuck up on him in a
double-team effort, freely admitting to taking out their biggest threat first
before disappearing back into the woods in search of Jackson and Erica. With
the scent and sounds of the pack all around him, Boyd relaxed into the feeling
of family – something he hadn’t had in years.
Boyd’s mother had walked out on him and his dad almost seven years ago after
pursuing a long affair with the father one of the most popular kids in his
school, finally leaving Beacon Hills to be with him. As she’d gone to leave,
she’d turned to a bemused, scrawny nine-year old Boyd, run her hand over his
head and kissed him on the cheek before picking up her last bag and driving out
of his life. A Christmas and birthday card was all he got from her now. At the
time, Boyd had blamed himself. If only he’d been bigger, stronger, smarter then
maybe she would have stayed. Maybe she’d have wanted him and been proud of him.
So from then on he’d been determined. He studied hard and worked out. He built
himself up so that others couldn’t knock him down. The snide comments about
being the son of a home wrecker (although no one seemed to care that Boyd’s
home had also been wrecked) and the whispers behind his back about how poor he
and his Dad were now - he didn’t let them touch him. He’d tried and failed to
hide that his Dad, ever since his Mom left, had been a barely functioning
alcoholic. He managed to hold down a job that paid the bills but that was it.
The rest went on booze so Boyd had to work, had to negotiate hard with Stiles
for that $50 for the keys to the rink. He had to buy what he needed, clothes
and shoes, supplies for school and what was left over went in a ‘get the hell
out of town fund’ for as soon as school was over.
But then, one day as he was locking up the rink, Derek had stepped out of the
shadows and offered to change his world; to vanquish the loneliness that
shrouded him, the shell created by self-reliance and make him more than he
could ever have dreamed of becoming, as he had done for others. Boyd knew that
something was up with Scott and Isaac and, well, you’d have to be dead not to
notice the change in Erica. He knew they’d all started associating with Derek.
When you’re invisible, no one notices if you overhear their conversations. So
when Derek offered him the chance to find out more, he found no reason not to.
Erica and Isaac met him at the overpass and took him to an abandoned subway
car. They sat him down and explained about werewolves. At that point Boyd
pretty much lost his shit. He thought it was all part of an elaborate prank
until Derek showed up and drew out his claws and teeth, slowly, trying not to
send Boyd running to the nearest police station. Derek turned to him. Did Boyd
want this? Did he want to be connected, to be loved and needed? Boyd swallowed.
He wanted nothing more.
Derek gestured for Boyd to lift up his shirt and ran a hand over the exposed
abs, fingertips lingering a moment longer than they might have done and Boyd
felt a knot develop in his stomach that he was sure had nothing to do with what
was about to happen.
Derek bent down, fangs out and looked up at Boyd a final time. Boyd set his
teeth and nodded. Quickly, Derek clamped his jaws around Boyd’s muscular flank
and as soon as it was over, he returned to normal, bandaging Boyd up with
expert hands and telling him to rest up.
That had been months ago now and the pack had been through so much since then
that the bond between them had only grown stronger. They’d made it to summer
vacation, an almost endless time to spend hanging out with friends, lounging by
pools or, if you were Boyd, working every shift offered at the rink, saving up
as much as possible. In a California summer, the rink was the best place to
cool down so Boyd had plenty of work.
He was torn though. While part of him knew that he should be working as much as
possible, the other part just wanted to spend all his time up in the woods.
Derek was teaching them how to work better as a pack, how to use each other’s
strengths and be aware of each other’s needs in the field. A typical day would
involve training in the morning and once they’d demolished all the food they’d
brought with them, they’d end up in a pile of arms and legs, scenting and
snuffling. Stiles would normally turn up in the afternoons for what he would
call story time. Stiles was their library for all things supernatural – what
Derek didn’t know or couldn’t find out, Stiles would have the answer. He came
with folklore and faerie stories, tales of ancient weapons and useful remedies
they were likely to be able to find in nature. He also taught them First Aid
because, although they could heal quickly, being able to fix a broken leg or
dislocated shoulder required a bit more than luck and their super werewolfy
powers.
This was Boyd’s favourite time of day – the little yips and snuffles, the
contented rumble in someone’s chest, the way their hearts almost seemed to beat
as one. He’d never felt as safe and loved as he did here.
Which is why it was so hard when he had to miss sessions. There was only a
certain number of times he could turn down shifts before they offered his job
to someone else and Boyd was pretty broke. Being a werewolf was remarkably
expensive, especially having to replace clothes that got too shredded to be
considered distressed or too bloody to salvage. He’d been really pissed when
Allison had shot arrows through his favourite jacket. So recently, more often
than not, Boyd had found himself at the rink, tidying up, sharpening blades,
resurfacing the ice.
One evening it had been Boyd’s turn to lock up so once he’d checked the place
was deserted, he’d pulled on his blades and hit the ice. This was his time when
he didn’t need to worry about anything, not school, not his Dad, not the pack
of Alphas who probably wanted to kill him and everyone he loved. This was just
him and the sound of metal slicing through ice.
Derek stood in the back of the rink, hidden by the shadows, watched Boyd race
up and down the ice, turning on a dime. The power and grace of his body made
Derek ache. The desire to explore the physique that could be both so unassuming
and yet domineering was almost overwhelming. He wanted to trace the muscles
with his fingertips, his nails, his teeth and tongue. He was lost in these
thoughts until suddenly he was aware of how fast his heart was beating, blood
rushing away from his head and he slipped out a side door before Boyd could
notice him.
The next day as Boyd turned the lock on the ice rink doors, a car rolled up
behind him. He turned and saw Derek looking hot and he knows it in sunglasses,
tight white t-shirt and black Camaro just oozing sex appeal. Boyd tried to
quell the leaping flutter his heart made before it gave him away. Derek grinned
at him – the sort of smile you’d want to slap off anyone else’s face - and
leaned over to open the passenger door. Boyd climbed in without a second
thought and it was only as they drove away did he think to ask, “Where are we
actually going?”
Derek gestured to the back seat and Boyd raised an eyebrow, giving him a look
which Derek steadfastly chose to ignore. When he actually took a look, Boyd saw
two sets of boxing gloves.
“I’ve been teaching the pack how to control themselves in a fight. You’ve got
the power, you just need the finesse. The wolf just makes your hits more
powerful, not better. If we’re going to have to take on these Alphas, you’re
all going to be able to handle yourselves.”
They pulled up at what looked like an abandoned building close to the edge of
town. Boyd looked at Derek suspiciously. He’d started to spring surprises on
them to test their detection skills but after listening closely he decided he
couldn’t hear anyone else and the only recent scents were those of the pack and
Derek. Boyd would know his scent anywhere. It was like exposed earth, the
northern wind carrying the first snow and a wisp of smoke. It smelled like
home. Boyd shook his head, as if doing so could shake the thoughts from his
mind, and followed Derek inside.
Two heavy bags hung from the exposed girder that ran the length of the room. A
stack of mats were piled up in the corner and opposite them were a couple of
those fighting dummies that had light up targets. In the middle of the room was
a large boxing ring.
Derek pulled rolls of bandages out of his holdall and carefully wrapped Boyd’s
hands and wrists. Boyd stared with great determination at the floor, not daring
to look into Derek’s eyes, concentrating on his breathing, controlling his
heart rate. He would deal with this, he would get over this crush. He couldn’t
fall for his Alpha and ruin everything. Once Derek had tugged battered red
gloves over Boyd’s bandages and stepped away to wrap up his own hands, Boyd
breathed a small sigh of relief. He watched Derek slowly unwind the bandages
around his own wrists and it struck Boyd how he almost seemed to be in a
trance, like this was something he'd done hundreds of times before.
“Right,” announced Derek bringing Boyd sharply back into focus. “Heavy bags
first. Hit it,” he said, gesturing towards it.
Boyd squared up to the bag, suddenly nervous and desperate to do well. He drew
back his arm and punched the bag as hard as he could.
“Not bad,” mused Derek, “but you need to move your feet, relax your legs. Get
loose, bend the knees a little, that’s it,” he encouraged as Boyd shuffled
about a bit, hoping he was doing the right thing.
“So, next time you hit it, think about punching the wall beyond the bag. You
want the force to go right through.”
He stepped back and nodded for Boyd to go ahead. Boyd paused for a minute,
thought about what Derek had said, and just went for it. He felt the
difference, he felt more powerful.
 
“Good!” exclaimed Derek, stilling the bag and clapping a hand on Boyd’s
shoulder, his skin warm through the t-shirt. “Now try a follow up punch, 1 –
2.”
Boyd did so and when he turned to Derek for criticism, the smile he got instead
made his stomach cartwheel.
And so it continued throughout the summer. Any day Boyd missed pack training,
Derek would show up as Boyd locked the doors of the rink and they’d go and
train. They moved from the heavy bags to floor work using the mats. Derek
taught him defensive moves, how to block incoming hits and how to swipe
people’s legs out from under them and once he’d mastered that, they started
using the flashing dummies to speed up his attack until Boyd punched the head
off one. He’d been horrified and had turned to Derek with a mouth full of
apologies but Derek had just looked proud and declared him ready for the ring.
This wasn’t going to be a boxing match, Derek had warned him, because no wolf
would fight by the rules. This was about teaching him to use boxing when the
adrenaline was pumping and someone was trying to rip your throat out.
Boyd had faltered at this but Derek just grabbed him by the arm and dragged him
into the ring. Boyd had barely drawn breath before Derek was on his, all fists,
pulling no punches. Instinctively he blocked, as Derek had taught him, and soon
Boyd was giving as good as he got. He surprised himself by actually managing to
land a few blows on Derek and deflect a good number but this could only last
for so long. Derek caught him unawares with a knee to the mid-section and
knocked all the air out of Boyd. He fell to his knees, dimly aware of Derek
squatting beside him, rubbing his back as he tried desperately not to black
out. “That was good work today,” he dimly heard Derek say, “next time, we’ll
fight as wolves.”
//
So the next time Derek picked him up, Boyd wasn’t surprised when they drove
past the building where they usually trained and instead headed up into the
forest.
Over the summer, Derek had taught the whole pack how to control the change so
they were no longer slaves to the moon. Boyd loved being able to control his
own power, he had controlled every aspect of his life so carefully up to this
point that not owning the best thing that had ever happened to him had been
frustrating to say the least. His anchor though, well, that was a less
enjoyable aspect of taking control.
“Fighting will be different this time,” Derek warned. “You’ll want to rush in
head first but you’ll have to think and use the human brain to help you fight.
Ready?” he asked.
Boyd nodded and let the change run through him, the world falling sharply into
focus and the red of Derek’s eyes drew him in. Before he had time to blink, and
damn was he going to have to work on his reaction time, Derek had landed a
punch straight on his cheekbone. Boyd snarled in reaction as his hackles raised
and every part of him screamed with a desire to charge straight in. From
nowhere though, a second and more useful instinct kicked in, the drills came
flooding back and he made a swipe for Derek’s legs with one of his own, all the
while keeping up his guard. The fight was on. Their fight covered acres of
territory, the sound of yelps, growls and panting filling the air until, at
last, Boyd speared Derek to the ground and straddled him. Boyd’s eyes were
burning bright, his face just inches from Derek’s as his hands pinned Derek’s
arms by his sides, breathing hard.
“I win,” he growled and then as he realised their position, he quickly rolled
away, becoming Boyd again and hoping the hammering of his heart could be
explained by the fight and not that he’d just found himself living out his wet
dream of two nights ago.
Derek lay still for a moment until his breathing returned to normal, it taking
a little longer than it would normally after a fight.
“Next time,” Derek said gruffly, “we fight as a pack. One on one’s fine for
learning but in reality you’re likely to be facing multiple opponents. Tuesday,
2pm, be here.”
With that, Derek pushed down his feelings, got in his car and drove off leaving
Boyd alone and confused. What had gotten into Derek? They’d had a great time
these past few weeks, becoming so close that it made fighting each other almost
impossible as it became easy to predict what the other was going to do. Was it
because Boyd had beaten him? Should he have let his Alpha win? Had he
threatened Derek’s position in the pack? Boyd freaked out about this for the
entire long walk home, dreading Tuesday.
Tuesday rolled around nonetheless and Scott picked up Boyd. As they neared the
forest, Boyd’s heart rate picked up and he drummed his fingers on his knee.
“Dude, what’s up with you?” asked Scott, looking over at him quizzically.
“Uh,” stalled Boyd as he searched for a reason that wasn’t I beat up Derek and
now he scares me. “I guess I’m just not really looking forward to the whole
group maul thing,” he said eventually.
“I know what you mean,” replied Scott and inwardly Boyd breathed a sigh of
relief. “Derek’s been kicking our butts these past weeks. I wouldn’t want to go
up against us and Erica, by the way, man she is not afraid to kick you in the
balls, even though that’s just plan mean!”
Boyd laughed, relaxing a little. He was looking forward to seeing how the pack
fought alone and together. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
The rest of the pack were already there when Scott pulled up, everyone in old
jeans and vests because really, what was the point in ruining more clothing
than absolutely necessary?
“You’re late,” snapped Derek as they got out of the car, arms folded across his
frankly ridiculous chest, eyebrows drawing a set line across his face. “As a
lesson, that makes it you two vs. Erica, Isaac, Jackson...and me.”
“What?!” exploded Scott. “That’s so not fair!”
“Fights usually aren’t, Scott,” uttered Derek in his ‘God, why are you so
stupid’ voice.
Scott grumbled and growled a little under his breath and turned to stow his
hoodie on the driver’s seat when suddenly he heard a growl and felt a whoosh of
air. Apparently Derek had decided to launch a sneak attack which Boyd had
successfully countered by leaping over the front of the vehicle and taking
Derek out mid-air.
The two of them wrestled on the ground for a minute before Erica dove in,
dragging Boyd off and pulling Derek back towards her group. The opening salvo
had been fired, the fight was on.
The two groups clashed in the clearing, a tumble of limbs and a cacophony of
growls as they used everything they had learned over the summer. Jackson, much
to his great annoyance was taken out first in friendly fire as both Derek and
Isaac went for Scott who got out of the way at the last minute, pushing Jackson
into the gap he left. The force of the two wolves hitting him was too much and
knocked him out. Erica dragged him out to the side, checked he was still alive
and rejoined the brawl.
Isaac was the next casualty as he ran for Boyd, the two trading kicks and blows
until Boyd managed to land a kick square on Isaac’s chest which left him
gasping and crawling towards Jackson. Scott, meanwhile, had suffered at the
hands of Erica who had fought him with an astonishing series of kicks,
eventually taking his legs out from under him and knocking him out with an
almighty punch.
For the most part, Derek had stood back from the fight, surveying the work done
by his betas, assessing their progress. Now though, as Boyd and Erica squared
off, he leapt in and dismissed Erica to the sidelines. She snarled at him but
Derek’s roar was enough to send her cowering over to the others who were
tending to their wounds.
Boyd and Derek dropped into defensive positions, circling each other slowly,
growls rumbling in their chests and eyes glowing fiercely. They both knew each
other’s moves too well. Boyd saw no real way out of this fight that didn’t
involve Derek going full-on Alpha, and Boyd never wanted to be on the receiving
end of that. Momentarily distracted by that thought, Boyd fell for Derek’s
feint, and as a result got slammed against the side of Scott’s car.
“Hey!” protested Scott but he was quickly silenced as Derek whipped his head
around to snarl at his young beta.
When he turned back, Boyd was human again, accepting defeat. “I give up,”
shrugged Boyd, “you win. You know, you didn’t have to set it up this way, this
smackdown of the too big for his boots beta. I didn’t mean to threaten you.
You’re my Alpha,” he said softly.
Derek stepped back a pace, hurt and confusion in his eyes as he furrowed his
brow.
“That’s what you think this was about?” he asked, gesturing around. “Boyd, I
didn’t think you meant to threaten me and I think one day you’ll be a great
Alpha, as long as you don’t kill me to do it,” he joked lamely, a small smile
strained with worry flashing across his lips.
“Derek - ,” Boyd started before Derek held up his hand, cutting him off. He
seemed to have some struggle within, looking for the right words, wondering if
he should say them. He took a step towards Boyd, leaving them just inches
apart.
“I pushed you harder than the others,” he said quietly, waving an arm in the
direction of the huddle of the pack, “because you are my right hand man. When
you and Erica left, you showed me I’d failed you and the trust you placed in me
by coming back is not something I take for granted. You challenge me to think,
not react. Your presence brings me back when I could lose myself in the wolf.”
Boyd was stunned into silence. Half-formed replies died on his lips. Derek
never spoke like this. And as if this emotional unburdening had exhausted him,
Derek sighed, his shoulders slumping forwards and he rested his forehead on
Boyd’s. They stayed like that for a moment, just breathing, until Erica, ever
tactful, yelled about pizza and Derek waved them over. As they approached, he
pulled the pack in close and just held them there until Scott’s stomach
growled, eliciting a small laugh from Isaac and the group broke up. They piled
into cars and headed to Scott’s where they ordered food and spent the rest of
the day lying in the yard, too exhausted from fighting and healing to do
anything else.
Derek sat up against a tree and looked around, taking in his pack. There was
Boyd, his number two; Scott, who could be great if he’d get over that hunter
girl; Isaac, who’d become a man over the last year; Jackson, who was still an
ass but they were working on that; and Erica, who was tougher than all of them.
They may be a young, rag tag bunch but they were his and their presence lifted
and grounded him all at the same time.
He tuned back into the conversation around him and caught Scott complaining
about having to leave so early for lacrosse camp on Monday.
“Wait,” interrupted Derek, “you’re going away? Next week?”
“Yeah, we all are,” replied Scott, rolling over to face Derek. “We told you
about this ages ago, all us lacrosse guys are going. It’s Coach’s pre-semester
ass-kicking. If you give a damn about being on the team next year, you have to
be there.”
“But it’s the full moon next week,” uttered Derek, looking at them like they
were crazy. “You’re going to handle the transformation on your own? You can’t.
There’s no way.” He folded his arms, as if that were the matter decided.
“You taught us how to control it, Derek,” said Boyd reassuringly. “We have our
anchors. Trust us. Trust yourself. We’ll be ok.”
The others nodded in agreement, all watching him closely. Derek looked back at
them, realising they were no longer the immature young wolves they once had
been. He didn’t need to chain them up any more. They’d practiced this last
time, forming a circle in the woods, keeping each other grounded. Boyd was
right, as usual. He had to trust they could handle it.
It wasn’t as though trust came easily to Derek though. Betrayed by Kate, by
Peter, by the loss of everyone he’d ever loved. But, he reminded himself, this
was not that situation. And if they were going to have any hope of remaining a
strong pack, he had to start trusting them, believing they could and would do
the right thing.
“Ok,” he nodded eventually. “But I swear, if I hear a single howl, I will be so
mad.”
And with that, whooping and cheering, the pack piled onto Derek, realising this
was a big moment for them all and Derek let himself relax into it.
//
Lacrosse camp was beyond tough. Every day Coach pushed them beyond their limits
to the point where they all just passed out as soon as they crawled into bed.
The night of the full moon still arrived though and instead of being tucked up
inside, Scott, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson found themselves sitting in the woods
about a mile from the camp.
They waited for the moon to rise, laughing and joking, complaining about how
hard Coach was busting their balls, until Isaac noticed the first beams of
moonlight peak over the crest of the hill. They fell silent as one, knowing
this was the time to focus on their anchor. The bit of their humanity they
could pull on, an extreme emotional point to keep them grounded. Everyone knew
that Derek’s was anger, Scott’s was Allison, Isaac’s was his father and
Jackson’s was Lydia. Boyd, though, had never revealed his. He couldn’t tell
them he drew on the crippling loneliness he’d felt every day since his Mom had
left. The loneliness that comes from having no one to eat lunch with, no
friends to turn to, coming home to an empty house day after day. How could he
share with those who loved him now that being so alone had almost broken him?
The way the pain tore at his heart and his soul was usually more than enough to
keep him grounded. Tonight though,
“Dude, what’s going on?! I thought we had this!” hissed Scott out of the corner
of his mouth as Boyd’s claws extended and his eyes took on a distinctly golden
tinge.
“I know, I thought I did,” he replied through clenched teeth as he fought the
change, searching for his focus.
“Breathe with me,” Scott said, grabbing Boyd’s hand. “We told Derek we’d be
fine, he trusts us, remember? We can’t let him down.”
Boyd took some deep breaths and tried to find the loneliness that he usually
had no problem dragging up. He realised, as he sought out the anchor, that the
usual sting he felt had dulled, the sharp edges had been softened by the pack.
The days spent in the sun and the nights spent in the gym with Derek meant the
acute pain was no longer just below the surface, waiting to be tapped into. The
memories of the summer flooded his mind. The clap of a hand on a shoulder, the
brief flash of a smile, the scent of the earth, snow and a wisp of smoke from a
long dead fire. Boyd found that he was anchoring himself to all the human parts
of Derek, the parts that over the summer Boyd had come to know…and love. The
sudden realisation of this hit him like a ton of bricks but as the claws
retracted and the gold in his eyes retreated he just hung on to his feelings.
The boys managed to spend the rest of the night undisturbed, holding themselves
to their human anchors.
Miles away, Derek and Erica sat on the porch of the Hale household, watching
the moon rise over the mountain tops. She struggled for a moment, finding her
anchor under Derek’s watchful gaze, but soon she settled. Once he knew she was
safe, his mind returned to his betas far away, doing God knows what. He’d know
though, if something went wrong. He was sure of it. The pack bond was strong
enough for Derek to be able to feel strong emotions over long distances.
Usually he only picked up their fear, which hit him like a sucker punch to the
gut, and he’d fly to their aid. This night though, as the moonlight beamed down
on them, something different happened. He felt like his heart was being torn
from his chest. He gasped, laying a hand on his heart as the pull of need, of
longing, of home grabbed on to him and wouldn’t let go. After the initial
shock, the feeling settled into a warm hum, like someone enveloping him,
nuzzling into his hair, holding on for dear life. Somehow, and Derek couldn’t
explain quite how he knew this, it felt like Boyd.
Erica was watching him, frightened at Derek’s reaction to an invisible force.
“Derek? What’s going on? What’s happening?” she asked, reaching out to him.
“It’s nothing, it’s the pack, being away,” he mumbled, hating the lie, hoping
she couldn’t tell.
She folded her arms and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Derek, you can lie
to a lot of people but you don’t get to lie to me. Even if I couldn’t hear your
heart, you’ve been moping around ever since they left.” She paused for a
minute. “No, this is more than moping,” she reflected, “this is pining. Don’t
tell me it’s not, I’ve seen Scott when he’s apart from Allison. Have you -,”
she stopped, uncertain if she could push it. “Have you fallen for one of them?”
Derek looked at her, wondering if he should tell her, could tell her, because
to say it out loud made it real, meant he couldn’t take it back. And then he
realised he didn’t want to squash it down any longer. This past month or so had
made him happier than he thought he could ever be. He took a deep breath,
staring out into the woods.
“It’s Boyd.”
//
The bus pulled up in the school car park and a dozen dirty and exhausted boys
piled out, still in their lacrosse kit. Coach had decided it would be fun to
have them run drills right until they had to get on the bus.
Boyd waved off the offer of a lift, preferring to walk home instead. Leaving
his dad alone for a week had been risky and he wasn’t sure what he’d find when
he got home. As he reached the front door he paused for just a moment, steeling
himself against what he might find, before heading in. The house was silent. It
looked almost unchanged from when Boyd had left. Clearly his dad had hardly
been home and the blanket and cushion screwed up at the end of the couch
indicated he hadn’t even made it to bed some nights.
Boyd sighed and dropped his bags by the utility room before heading upstairs to
take a shower. As he reached his bedroom door, a scent hit him that made his
heart ache.
He pushed open the door and saw Derek sitting on his bed, the window slightly
open. Boyd’s heart skipped a beat. Derek was here, in his bedroom?
Derek stood up. He was nervous. God, why was he nervous? He hadn’t felt this
way in a long time, hadn’t laid his heart out like this since Kate and look how
well that had turned out. He swallowed and covered the ground between them in
three short strides. He lifted his left hand, wrapping it around the back of
Boyd’s head, bringing it down and he buried his face into his neck, drinking in
his scent like it was oxygen. Then, before he lost his nerve, he planted a
quick kiss, just below Boyd’s earlobe. He felt Boyd still and Derek’s heartbeat
quickened, his internal monologue cursing his stupidity. He dared to look up at
Boyd who was simply beaming, light dancing in his eyes and relief washed over
Derek.
Boyd held Derek’s head in his right hand, fingers nestled in his hair, thumb
running lightly over his cheekbone.
“In the woods, at the full moon, you were the only thing that brought me back,”
he said softly, his eyes flickering over Derek’s face, landing on his lips
every few seconds.
“I know,” Derek replied, his hands on Boyd’s hips, thumbs gently brushing up
from the waistband of his lacrosse shorts inside his jersey. “I could feel you
holding on.”
They locked eyes for a minute in a silent exchange of everything that had gone
unsaid over the summer. Then Boyd bent his head slightly and kissed him,
gently, softly, searchingly. With his left hand he grabbed Derek’s waist,
pulling him in closer as Derek opened his mouth to Boyd’s exploring tongue.
Derek nipped at Boyd’s bottom lip, ever so kissable, which elicited a sharp
intake of breath.
Boyd slid his hand up Derek’s back, feeling the muscles ripple and arch into
his touch. He drifted round to the front, running his fingertips over his chest
and then down until he reached the hem of the t-shirt. He broke off the kiss to
look questioningly at Derek who answered by removing his own hands from inside
Boyd’s shirt long enough to whip off his own top and then swiftly relieve Boyd
of his.
Boyd walked Derek backwards, causing him to fall backwards as his knees hit the
edge of the mattress. He toed off his shoes and shuffled up the bed a little as
Boyd kicked off his own shoes and laid himself above Derek, propped up on one
forearm. Their legs intertwined and with his free hand, Boyd traced the lines
on Derek’s face, etched on there by years of hurt and uncertainty. He smoothed
out the furrowed brow and looked down at Derek in such a way that Derek felt
his soul was exposed. This was a new, different Boyd; a man, Derek’s equal.
Derek reached up with one hand to pull Boyd in close, the other hand keeping
him grounded as it curled around Boyd’s upper arm.
The kiss was slow and soft as they learned each other’s rhythms but then Boyd
broke it off, instead planting his lips along the underneath of Derek’s jaw
line and down to the hollow at the base of his throat.
Boyd untangled their legs so now he was straddling Derek, able to cover him
with his body, protect him, shield him, envelop him. He ran his fingers over
Derek’s torso, honed to perfection after hours spent exerting his frustration
and anger at the world. He flicked a tongue over Derek’s nipples, drawing out a
moan and an instinctive buck of the hips. Boyd could feel Derek hardening
inside his jeans as he pushed against Boyd’s own half-formed erection. Boyd
gave Derek a small wicked grin and rolled his hips. The sound Derek made shot
straight through Boyd; his insides somersaulted and his dick jumped to
attention. Derek felt it and a lazy blissed out smile appeared on his face.
Boyd hopped off the bed, causing Derek to utter a small cry of distress but
when he saw that Boyd was ditching the lacrosse shorts and standing there only
in black boxers, his erection straining to escape, Derek thought he might just
pass out. He knew people joked about how ripped he was but if they could see
Boyd now…
Derek struggled with the button of his jeans, gasping a little as his hands
brushed against his now incredibly sensitive dick. Boyd came to his assistance,
dealing with the fly and tossing the jeans in the corner of the room. Boyd
clambered back on top, heart racing as he ran his hands down Derek’s sides and
rolled his hips, once, twice.
He leant down to run a hand through Derek’s hair, hearing his ragged breaths
and nipped hard on his bottom lip. The rumble from Derek’s chest vibrated into
Boyd’s and their hips clashed together as hormones surged through their bodies.
Breathing hard, Boyd sat back up and managed to free both his and Derek’s now
leaking cocks, slick with pre-come. Derek could hardly breathe but managed to
look at Boyd who just about lost it as he saw Derek’s pupils were totally
blown, the need and desire wrecking his face.
Boyd wrapped one big hand around them both and slowly stroked up and down, his
own breath catching in his throat as he did so. Derek had dug both of his own
hands into his hair, head thrown back exposing a neck Boyd just wanted to lick,
and was uttering an almost inaudible constant stream of profanities, peppered
with Boyd’s name and the occasional moan when words became impossible.
Boyd began thrusting against Derek, pumping them both harder into his fist as
the other hand clutched at the bed sheets spasmodically feeling the coil of
heat in the pit of his stomach spread outwards until suddenly the strike of
orgasm shot down his spine and his vision whited out.
When he was able to open his eyes again he found himself half-collapsed over
Derek, sticky with come and breathing harder than he ever thought possible.
“That was -,” he started before realising his brain had turned to mush and he
was capable of nothing more than sounds and vague gestures encompassing the
both of them.
“Yeah,” replied Derek, equally as eloquent, wriggling out from under Boyd’s
dead weight form.
After a few minutes had passed and the post-orgasm haze had cleared, Boyd
pulled together enough brain power to turn to Derek. “We’re good?” he asked
hesitantly.
Derek looked back at him, grabbed his hand intertwining their fingers and
pressed a kiss to them. For the first time in a long time, his mind felt free
and clear. He breathed in Boyd’s scent, warm and welcoming.
“More than good,” he replied.
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