Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/548680.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Allison_Argent/Erica_Reyes
  Character:
      Allison_Argent, Erica_Reyes
  Additional Tags:
      Pan-Fandom_Frottage_Fest, Frottage, Hate_Sex, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without
      Plot
  Collections:
      Queer_Werewolf_Ladies_Fest!
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-10-29 Words: 902
****** Let the Only Sound (Be the Overflow) ******
by Gorgeous_Nerd_(gorgeousnerd)
Summary
     Erica can tear Allison's throat out, and Allison can shoot Erica.
     They do neither.
Notes
     Written for the prompt "Dirty, rushed Hate!sex in the woods." on The
     Pan-Fandom_Frotting_Fest. The title comes from Florence + the
     Machine's What the Water Gave Me.
     (Also on DW and LJ.)
It's raining when Erica pushes Allison hard against a tree trunk, her crossbow
and now-broken arrows scattered around their feet. They aren't too drenched -
the pine needles overhead are sheltering the worst of the water - but it's
enough that Allison can't see through her soggy hair. She throws her weight
against Erica's hands, but it's no use. She's pinned.
Erica's eyes are glowing in the darkness, and she's grinning. She's not tearing
out Allison's throat with her teeth or claws even though Allison can feel the
latter pricking through her jacket. But then, Allison had had a clear shot when
they'd first run into each other, and she hadn't taken it. Not even when Erica
had advanced with malice, saying, "What? You're not going to make me a
pincushion? You don't think I can take it?" The fire in Allison's stomach had
died along with her grandfather, and without it, she can't go on the offensive.
The defensive is a different thing. She tries to kick up a leg, but Erica leans
against her, making it impossible to move.
"I could take my time," Erica whispers in her ear, her breath hot against
Allison's skin. "Make you scream and cry like you made us scream and cry. Would
you like it as much on the other side?"
Allison freezes. She probably shouldn't take the question at face value, but
just a fleeting second of introspection means she can feel Erica's breasts
pressing into hers, Erica's legs pushing her thighs together. She shivers, and
for the first time since the night started, it's not from fear.
She jerks her chin up. Maybe her eyes can't glow, but she knows how to look
menacing. "If you were going to do it, you would've torn me apart long ago."
Erica glares back, and for a moment, it's just their panting and the sound of
the falling rain and the wind through the branches.
And then Allison kisses her.
It's nothing like kissing Scott, the way she could feel the tenderness under
everything foreign and wild. Erica claims, pinning Allison's hands over her
head with one hand and tugging her hair back with another. Allison could get
the leverage to break free in this position - and lose a chunk of the hair in
the process - but she's too dizzy from the soft lips against hers, the nip of
teeth, the pressure of Erica's warmth all over.
Erica moves away enough for Allison to spread her legs, and Erica slips a knee
in, pressing against Allison's pussy through her jeans. Allison cries out,
throwing her head back, and rolls her hips into the pressure.
But it's not enough. Something's missing.
"Please," she says as Erica's hand moves out of her hair and to her breasts.
Erica rubs through the damp fabric, and the way her nipples sting goes straight
to her clit. She's close, but still not close enough.
She's beyond words at this point, so she gives a wordless sob, and Erica lays
her mouth against the vulnerable flesh of Allison's throat. She bites with her
regular human teeth, just a little scrap of sharpness, and that's what she was
looking for. Allison comes, twitching beneath Erica's hands.
But, of course, they aren't finished.
Erica pushes through Allison's aftershocks, making her shiver and groan as she
jiggles her leg a little. Then, when Allison's sagging and panting and whining
a little, Erica throws her to the ground face-first. Before Allison can so much
as register the sting of dead pine needles and the stickiness of wet soil
against her cheek, Erica's straddling her lower back, enough to keep Allison
where she wants her but not enough to keep her from moving. Allison's skin is
still sensitive from her orgasm, and it should all be too much, but the cry she
gives isn't unhappy.
"You like this, don't you?" Erica says. She rolls her hips once. "You could've
gotten out earlier, but no, you want this. You begged me for it."
Allison nods, choking back a quiet sob. Everything's looping around from too
much back into good again, to the point where the dampness between her thighs
has absolutely nothing to do with the rainfall.
"Erica," she says, pushing back into her movements.
With an inhuman snarl, Erica grinds into Allison. Allison has enough use of her
hands that she can scrabble at the dirt as Erica presses harder and faster. The
broken arrows are within reach, and she stares at their sharp edges, but she
never grabs for them.
When Erica's noises get higher in pitch and breathier, Allison twists her arm
back and grabs Erica's hip. But Erica bats away her hand and gets up.
"No," Allison says, flipping over. "No, wait–"
But Erica's back on her, kissing her again, pressure Allison's hand to her
crotch. Allison rubs in circles, slipping her tongue in Erica's mouth, and they
kiss until Erica twitches, staring up at the woods around them.
"This isn't over," she says with her lip curled, but she isn't looking at
Allison. She must hear something in the woods that Allison can't. Either way,
she gets to her feet, and Allison watches her disappear into the woods.
She can hear people crunching in the pine needles, but no one's in view. She
unbuttons her jeans and shoves her hand in, coming again just after she touches
herself again. A thunderclap masks her cries.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
en monstrosity around his
wrist, fingers getting stuck on the sticky end. Everyone else had someone to
help them with this, damn it.
Stiles stood frozen as Derek shoved the clipboard under his arm, nimble fingers
pushing his own out of the way as he proceeded to wrap the band securely around
Stiles’ thin wrist. Stiles tried not to react when Derek’s fingers brushed his
sensitive palm, sending shivers down his spine. The older man looked up when
his task was finished, his forest green eyes boring into Stiles’ amber-gold
ones.
“There was an uneven amount of students, so I guess that leaves you with me.”
“You?” Stiles stuttered incredulously, and Derek’s face remained a mask of
stoicism.
“Everyone has to have a partner. Those are the rules. Unless you’d rather wait
on the bus till nine o’clock.”
Stiles felt anger and injured pride bubbling somewhere deep within his stomach,
and squared his shoulders in what he hoped looked like defiance.
“Fine. I’ll wait on the bus.”
Just as he turned around to go back up the stairs, Derek grabbed a handful of
his shirt and pulled him back.
“Does the prospect of spending a couple of hours with me sound so terrible that
you would rather sit in a hot bus alone for the whole day?”
Derek didn’t sound offended, merely curious, and Stiles tried not to tremble
when the question was asked directly into his ear.
“Isn’t the point of this trip to have fun?” Stiles gritted out. “I kind of
think you’re incapable of doing that. I really don’t want to have to look at
you glaring the entire time.”
“I can have fun.” Derek said, somehow getting even closer, and all the air
decided to leave Stiles on a harsh wheeze.
“I highly doubt that.”
“And I highly doubt that you can swim.” Derek shot back. “This works out
perfectly. You don’t have to stay on the bus, and I get to make sure you don’t
drown.”
“Hey!” Stiles said insulted. “I can too swim. I’m an awesome swimmer. I bet I
could tread water while holding your dead weight up! That’s how good I am.”
“Oh really?” Derek asked, and Stiles could just hear the smugness in his tone.
“You can’t even walk without tripping over your own feet.”
“I may not be the most graceful person, but in the water I’m like a fish.”
“Prove it.” Derek dared, finally releasing him so Stiles could turn and look
him in the eyes. The challenge was there, and for all that Stiles knew this was
a ploy, he couldn’t walk away.
“Fine by me.” He muttered, heading towards the park entrance, Derek falling
into step beside him.
_________________________
It was like being tortured. Seriously and unarguably tortured, Everywhere
Stiles looked, there were naked people. Well, practically naked. Why would
anyone allow a seventeen-year-old boy into a water park? Seriously.
And oh god, there was Lydia in a maroon bikini. Holy sweet Jesus in the sun. He
was never gonna see again. He had been blinded by an angelic vision of all that
was sacred in this world. Lydia Martin’s cleavage.
And there was Allison, donned in a modest black two piece that was still hot,
and fuck, even Danny looked delicious. Already dripping wet, and all those
muscles...
But the worst, by far, was Derek. Stiles watched him, openly gawking and wide-
eyed as his fucking chaperon crossed his arms over his chest, fingers gripping
the bottom hem of his black tank top and pulling it over his head with all the
slowness of a stripper. Or maybe it was only in Stiles’ head that it was in
super-slow motion while saxophones played in the distance.
Either way, Derek was built like a marble statue. Well-defined, excellent
attention to detail, muscles for days, and just as cold and unapproachable.
Definitely unattainable. Stiles was suddenly missing the bus.
“Are you gonna get undressed?”
Stiles’ mouth hung open as he continued to stare at the Adonis before him. “Beg
your pardon?” He asked, throat way beyond dry, and his voice way too high
pitched. Derek looked exasperated.
“We’re at a water park, Stiles. Are you gonna wear your clothes all day or
what?”
“Oh.” Stiles exclaimed, looking down at his loose cotton pants and t-shirt. “I
think I will, actually. I tend to burn easily. I also freckle and I don’t much
feel like getting chlorine in my eyes-”
“Stiles.” Derek growled, and Stiles actually thought he saw something menacing
flash in his eyes. “Take. Your clothes off. Now.”
Stiles gulped, lids sliding closed as he tried to calm his breathing. “That
isn't how I imagined someone asking me to do that for the first time. Right,
I’ll just-”
Stiles removed his shirt without any of Derek’s finesse, ear getting caught on
the opening hem. He threw the offending article in the direction of Derek’s own
folded up clothes before removing his pants just as quickly. In his haste, he
almost removed his swim trunks, which were a navy blue with a target design on
the left leg.
Derek’s trunks were just plain black, and seriously, did the guy not know about
any other colors in the rainbow?
Derek had his back to him, stuffing something in his bag before placing it on
the table, and Stiles was given a delicious, unhindered view.
“Cool tattoo.” He blurted, admiring the swirls almost as much as the muscle
definition, which was in no way making him salivate. No way at all.
"It's a triskele, right?”
Derek turned back around, showing no signs of answering.
“What did you want to do first?” He asked instead, and Stiles felt suddenly
very awkward.
“Look,” He started, hand coming up nervously to run through his longer-than-
usual hair. “you don’t have to force yourself to do this. I really don’t mind
going back to the bus-”
“Stiles,” Derek gritted, voice pitched low and that tone was doing unthinkable
things to Stiles’ nether regions. “Would you just pick something.”
“That one.” Stiles answered quickly, pointing to a huge slide in the distance
with at least five flights of stairs. “I wanna go on that one.”
_________________________
Fifteen minutes later found Stiles at the top of the water slide, Derek
standing uncomfortably close behind him as they waited their turn. An elongated
inner tube was placed in the water before them and the ride’s operator motioned
for them to get in.
“Heaviest person in the back, lightest in the front.” The lifeguard said,
giving Stiles a pointed look when he said 'lightest'. Derek sat down first,
legs spreading out to the ends of the tube.
Stiles lowered himself down in front of him, forced to fit between the vee of
Derek’s spread legs, back practically flush against his chest, and Jesus
Christ, really? Why was this happening to him? He must have been some kind of
demented puppy-killer in his past life in order to deserve this brand of
torture.
“Keep your hands tight on the handle bars, keep your feet inside the tube and
don’t let go. Stay seated until you reach the bottom and come to a complete
stop. Are you guys ready?”
Stiles could feel Derek’s head nod near his ear, but he had no words. The next
thing he knew, they were being propelled forward down the dark tunnel at a
surprisingly fast speed, water splashing everywhere.
Derek broke the rules, one hand releasing the tube’s handle bar in order to
wrap around Stiles’ chest, holding him more securely to his own body. Stiles
had no clue on earth why he did that. Maybe he felt it was his duty as a
chaperon or something to try and look out for him, but he suddenly felt more
relaxed, which seemed to be an utter contradiction.
The tunnel was full of loops and sharp twists, completely dark all the way
through. Stiles was disoriented, and when they finally broke out, the sun felt
too bright on his eyes and he couldn’t help but close them tightly. The only
thing that kept him from launching out of the tube and into the water was
Derek’s arm, heavy against his skin.
They were pulled to the steps by another lifeguard and climbed out of the raft;
well, stumbled out, in Stiles’ case.
“That wasn’t too bad, right?” Stiles felt the need to ask, body now slightly
cold and thoroughly drenched. Derek was the same. His dark hair plastered to
his forehead, green eyes glowing brighter with moisture. Stiles watched as
millions of tiny drops of water slid down his skin, making it gleam in the sun.
His swim trunks were hanging very low on his hips. Almost obscenely low...
“It was fine.” Derek answered, straight-faced and completely unconvincing. You
would think he could at least lie a little bit better. And did he have to act
like he’d rather be getting tortured then spending the day stuck with him?
“Whatever.” Stiles muttered, turning away from his stupid chaperone/partner and
putting as much distance between them as he could.
“Where are you going?” Derek demanded, jogging to catch up. Stiles didn’t look
at him.
“The current pool.” He answered, feeling particularly spiteful. Derek didn’t
say anything either way. Just followed Stiles’ lead.
__________________________
“Is this all you’re planning on doing. All day?” Derek demanded for the second
time. Stiles was tempted to ignore him. Again.
“Is there something wrong with that plan?” He muttered, not bothering to open
his eyes. Derek could go drown himself in the kiddy pool for all he cared.
“All you’re doing is sitting in an inner tube as you float in the same loop
around the park. You’re not even paying attention, you’re taking a nap.”
“So?” Stiles could feel the irritation rolling off of Derek in waves and found
he really couldn't give a shit.
“Someone wouldn’t let me stay on the bus. Someone isn’t very much fun to hang
out with. Therefore, I am doing this. All day if I have to. Feel free to find
some other person to bring down.”
Stiles couldn’t see him, but he could hear Derek's defeated sigh somewhere to
his left.
“Can we just get out of this thing? I promise I’ll be more...amiable.”
Stiles snorted. "I’m sure you’ll understand when I choose not to believe you.”
There was silence for a moment and Stiles was so sure he'd won. But then Derek
was shoving him out of his inner tube, knocking him into the pool to inhale
massive amounts of water. He was pulled up by two strong hands that were as
solid as steel. He was hacking and spluttering and that was just not sexy.
“Y-you-”
“Calm down and breathe.”
“t-trying to kill me!?”
“You said you were a good swimmer.”
“You s-son of a bi-”
“Ah ah ah.” Derek interrupted, placing a hot, wet palm over Stiles’ lips to
stop the flow of insults. “I’m still your chaperon.”
“Mmghfoum mmhghm.”
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Stiles glared, using his eyes to convey his anger instead of his words as he
usually would. Derek actually grinned.
The current sped up, dislodging Stiles balance and his arms automatically shot
up to wrap around Derek’s neck, and Derek obligingly pulled him closer. Stiles
froze when he suddenly realized how close. His entire body was practically
wrapped around the man. His legs around Derek’s hips, his arms over his
shoulders, his face mere inches away.
Stiles panicked, and flailed like a beached fish.
“Jesus.” Derek muttered, releasing him when he came dangerously close to
getting a foot to the face. Once again Stiles found himself underwater,
inhaling chlorine harshly through his mouth and nose. Derek’s arm wrapped
tightly around his waist, pulling him up for the second time.
“Thought you said you were a good swimmer.” Derek demanded once Stiles stopped
trying to hack up a lung.
Stiles had nothing to come back with, so he settled for wrenching himself out
of Derek’s hold and sending him mean hateful glares. Without voicing his plans,
he swam to the next available exit and climbed the stairs out of the current
pool, not checking to see if Derek was following. He so didn’t care.
He really didn’t.
Really.
_________________________
The wave pool was a disaster. Derek wanted to go in the deepest part, and when
the waves started there were so many people Stiles almost felt claustrophobic.
But he wasn’t, so it was a mystery as to why he felt that way.
He could see some of his classmates were in the pool as well, including
Greenberg and Jared; who looked like he was gonna be sick again. Ew, gross.
When Stiles looked back, Derek was nowhere to be seen. Another face lost in the
crowd somewhere. The waves were getting really harsh, and Stiles was starting
to feel like one of those people in the movie Titanic that was left floating in
the ocean once the ship went down. It was complete chaos. People shouting,
laughing, screaming.
Stiles didn’t like it at all. He tried to swim back, but every time he did the
way would be blocked off by more people. He turned frantically in the water,
the waves disorienting him. This was ridiculous. He could swim, damn it! Why
did it feel like he was about to have a panic attack?
Strangers were bumping into him, pushing him every which way. Pushing him
under. Stiles tried shoving back, but as a result he was jostled harder than
before.
He needed to get out of here.
He needed-
Derek.
Derek was wrapping him up, pulling him towards the shallow end, away from
everyone else, allowing him to breathe.
“What’s wrong?” Derek demanded, as if he could sense his panic somehow.
“Nothing.” Stiles lied blatantly, trying to hide his slight meltdown.
At Derek’s intense look, Stiles tried to elaborate.
“Nothing is wrong, there’s just...a lot of people. It was a little intense, you
know?”
Derek accepted his answer, even though Stiles could see it in his eyes that he
was just humoring him.
“Come on.” Derek said instead, grabbing Stiles’ hand and leading him out of the
water completely. “I get to choose the next ride.”
Stiles couldn’t say it out loud, but in that moment, he was immensely grateful
to Derek. And yet, even without voicing his gratitude, he somehow got the
feeling that Derek already knew.
______________________
Of course Derek would choose the biggest most unstable looking slide in the
whole park. Of course he would.
“I’m gonna go ahead and sit this one out.” Stiles tried, turning on his heel
and making to walk away.
“Nope.” Derek denied simply, catching Stiles by the wrist. “You need at least
two to ride.”
“Find someone else.”
“Don’t be such a crybaby.” Derek demanded, practically dragging Stiles to the
stairs without any difficulty at all. And that didn't hurt Stiles' pride. No
sir.
“I would prefer not to die at a water park, Derek. Do you know what this slide
looks like to me? It looks like death in bright colors. It looks like it wants
to chew up and spit out all that dare get too close.”
“There’s a six year old waiting in line Stiles. A six year old girl.”
“Who obviously does not know the meaning of self-preservation. I choose life,
thank you very much.”
Derek sighed, still dragging Stiles to the stairs as if Stiles wasn’t putting
up a fight. Which he was. Wholeheartedly.
“I would never let anything happen to you.”
Stiles became deadweight in Derek’s arms, and he would laugh at the other man’s
joke, but Derek wasn’t smiling; not that he ever did, but his tone was serious,
and Stiles could only read Derek Hale by the tone in his voice. So he didn’t
laugh, and he didn’t know what to say or do, because for whatever reason, Derek
actually meant what he’d said. So, Stiles being the romantic sap that he was,
followed Derek to his death like a loyal puppy and gaped in awkward surprise
and pleasure.
Stiles was so occupied puzzling out Derek’s declaration that he didn’t notice
he was next in line until someone was telling him to sit in the circled tube
and die like a good boy. Derek nudged him gently forward, careful not to make
him fall. Stiles sat inside the circle of death, hands gripping the handlebars
till his knuckles turned white.
Derek climbed in after him, sitting Directly across from Stiles. His heavily
muscled legs spread out to cage Stiles in, and Stiles was so tuned in to the
blood pouring and pounding in his ears that he completely tuned out the safety
guidelines that were being told mechanically to him.
“I like the colors orange and blue." Stiles blurted out as the lifeguard
awaited the signal from down below that it was okay to send the next group down
to their demise. Way down.
Derek raised an expressive brow at him, and Stiles had to ramble on even more.
“In case something happens, I feel you should know. Well, someone should. I
don’t think I’ve ever told anyone. Not even Scott. People think orange and blue
don't go together, but they do. Anyone who takes art knows that. The whole
color wheel thing. Anyways...I like sea-otters as well."
Derek raised the other brow.
"I don't think I've mentioned that to anyone either. Sea otters are really
overlooked, as far as animals go. They’re very unique and self-sufficient and I
just- I saw something on animal planet one time, and I think they’re really-”
Derek’s foot shifted until it brushed against Stiles’ thigh, toes tickling
along sensitive skin. Stiles’ breath stuttered in his throat and he couldn’t
stop shaking.
“It’s going to be fine.” Derek soothed, and his voice held a kind of command,
almost as if he was ordering Stiles to be okay.
“You ready?” The lifeguard asked, completely rhetorical, and Stiles wished they
would stop asking when it was pointless. They were just going to shove them
down anyways.
Derek nodded, gaze never leaving Stiles. “Keep your eyes open. It’s better that
way.”
Stiles was already shaking his head as the lifeguard moved to push them down
the incline until gravity took over.
“Then keep your eyes on me.” Derek demanded, and Stiles found himself actually
obeying, his gaze finding Derek’s and refusing to look away, even as they
picked up speed and the wind caught in his hair. Neither of them looked away as
they descended to the ground quickly, water drenching their drying bodies.
Stiles’ breath caught, and he found he still couldn’t look away, even when they
reached the bottom and came to a complete stop.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Derek said softly, tone almost soothing, and before he
could stop himself, Stiles was nodding in agreement.
________________________
Derek had broken his own rules. He'd left Stiles outside of a random food
eatery, claiming he was going to go to the restroom real quick. That was
like...fifteen minutes ago. Seriously, how long did a simple biological
function take?
He had been ditched, it was as simple as that. It was bound to happen
eventually, but Stiles himself wasn't aware that he was so hard to be around
that even a designated chaperon would throw his own rules under the proverbial
bus in order to get away from him.
It kind of hurt if he thought about it too much. Like a lot.
Stiles was fiddling with the damp hem of his swim trunks, tracing the target
design and wondering if he should just start making his way back to the bus. He
had hit an all time low for his pathetic status, and he just wanted to sleep
until this day was over.
His skin was starting to overheat and it wouldn't be long before it began to
burn. He could feel it. And yeah, it was definitely time to head back to the
bus.
“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, suddenly very much in front of him.
Stiles held in his manly yell.
“And just where have you been?” he demanded, wincing at the fact that he
sounded like a jealous girlfriend. Not that he knew what those sounded like,
having never had a girlfriend, or any kind of intimate partner that ended in
‘friend’.
Derek suddenly looked very out of his element. Instead of using his words to
answer, he pushed a small, plush-stuffed animal in his face.
“It’s...a sea otter.” Stiles said in a sort of shocked trance before looking
back up at Derek. “Is this for me?”
And was Derek blushing?
“Yeah, well...you said you liked ‘em.”
“I do.” Stiles nodded emphatically. “I just never thought that-” Stiles took a
deep breath, trying to gather some semblance of coherent thought...and failed.
“You got me a sea otter.”
Derek tried to look aloof, but Stiles could see the corners of his lips turning
up in a grin. “Think of it as a thank you for going on that ride with me.”
“I think my brain just died.” Stiles whispered, eyeing the plastic blue orbs of
the sea otter’s eyes.
“It’s not that big of a deal-”
“You have no idea how big of a deal it is-”
“It really isn’t.” He argued, but Stiles chose to ignore him, like he usually
did.
“Derek Hale bought me a sea otter.” He still sounded in awe of the very idea,
hands taking the otter from Derek's grip like it was his most precious
possession.
“I can take it back if it’s too much for you.”
Stiles finally broke eye contact with his new favorite thing in the whole
world. He looked upset by Derek’s words.
“Don’t even joke.” He demanded and Derek shook his head.
“Calm down, the thing is yours.”
“It’s not a thing.” Stiles informed his misguided assumption. “His name is
Ollie the sea otter.”
“Ollie?” Derek deadpanned. “You name stuffed animals?”
“You buy stuffed animals?” Stiles shot back. “Don’t judge me.”
Derek held up his hands in surrender. “Come on, kid. It’s time for lunch.”

“You forgot to invite Ollie.” Stiles called after him, getting up to follow.
“I’m not talking to your toy, Stiles.” Derek answered, refusing to wait up.
“The toy that you bought for me.” Stiles smiled in smug victory, and Derek let
him have that one.
________________________
Stiles stayed close to Derek’s side as he once again donned his clipboard,
marking off every group of partners as they entered the picnic area.
“You don’t have to wait Stiles, you can go get something to eat.” Derek
muttered, eyes on his list of names
Stiles shrugged, even if Derek couldn’t see it. “S’fine. Not that hungry yet.”
He so lied, by the way.
Derek let it go and continued to do his job.
“Nice seal, Stilinski.” Jackson laughed as he passed by Derek’s partner
inspection, Lydia in tow.
“Otter, you idiot. It’s a sea otter!” Stiles called after him, Jackson flipping
him the bird over his shoulder.
Derek was shaking his head, a hint of amusement actually taking over his
features.
“What?” Stiles demanded, and Derek almost looked like he was fighting off a
chuckle.
“Nothing.” He answered, checking something off on his list. “You just seem to
feel really passionate about that thing.”
“I told you, he’s not a thing. His name is-”
“Ollie. Yeah, I heard you.”
It wasn’t just that, but Stiles really didn’t feel like telling the older man
it was because he bought it for him. That sounded too serious this soon in the
game. And creepy.
Allison and Scott breezed past, and when Scott paused long enough in the ogling
of his girlfriend to actually flash Stiles a smile, Stiles returned the
gesture. Sure, his best friend was doing a crap job at his role in Stiles’
life, but some good had come out of his ditching today. Stiles had been allowed
to see a more softer side of Derek Hale that the man kept locked away like a
Swiss bank account. He felt almost privileged.
“That’s everyone.” Derek muttered, shoving the clipboard back into his nearby
bag. He turned to Stiles in confusion.
“You know, just because you have to stay with your partner in the park doesn’t
mean you can’t go eat with your friends now.”
“Oh.” Stiles felt suddenly awkward. He had been waiting for Derek for almost
ten minutes. He probably looked pathetic. Sticking to the chaperone’s side like
a loser without a friend. Of course Derek wanted some peace and quiet.
Stiles’ gaze traveled across the picnic area, settling on the table that held
Scott and Allison practically feeding each other. Lydia and Jackson were there
as well, laughing at something Danny had said while Isaac hung off of Scott’s
every word. He felt no desire to join in like he usually did, and found his
hands tightening around the soft material that made up Ollie.
“Yeah, I’m good with you.” He informed Derek, finding a newfound confidence. So
what if Derek wanted to be alone. He was the one who forced Stiles to tag along
today. Stiles would be on the bus now if it hadn’t been for him. Derek had
actually started to open up and have fun with him. Derek had bought him a sea
otter, so therefore, it was all his fault. Stiles wasn’t going anywhere.
Derek looked at him with softened amusement before heading over to the now-
empty buffet of bagged chips and hot dogs. They showed their wristbands to the
servers and were given plates with hefty servings.
Derek found a secluded picnic table with a charming umbrella, and Stiles gently
set Ollie on it’s clean surface.
They ate in companionable silence until Stiles’ mouth unsurprisingly took the
reigns.
“How come coach never comes to these things? And why are you the one always
filling in?”
Derek stopped mid-chew, eyes boring into his. Stiles had to blink a few times.
The light was playing tricks on him, making Derek’s eyes appear more
translucent-blue rather then deep forest-green.
“It’s a sort of deal I made with him awhile back, to keep an eye on someone I
care about.”
“Oh, cause your sisters in our class.” Stiles’ gaze sought out Cora, finding
her laughing at something Erica had said.
“Exactly.” Derek answered quickly, returning his attention to his food. Stiles
wasn’t sure why, but he got the feeling that Derek wasn’t being completely
honest. He shrugged the thought away.
“Are you one of those overprotective-brother types?” Stiles asked in curiosity.
“I’m an only child, so it’s kind of interesting to me how some siblings hate
each other and others are really close.”
“We’re a really close family.” Derek said by way of answer and Stiles nodded,
getting the idea that the older man really didn’t want to talk about it.
“So...what do you do when you aren’t babysitting teenagers at water parks?”
“I go to school, and work at a garage part time.”
“Oh yeah? What are you studying? Which garage?”
“Why are you so interested in me?” Derek asked, finally giving Stiles back his
full attention.
“Why not?” Stiles answered a question with a question. “Do you think you’re too
boring to merit interest?”
“I think that this line of conversation is over.” Derek declared with a sweetly
sarcastic smile.
Stiles glowered. You take one step forward and then two leaps back with this
guy. If Derek wanted quiet, he would be as quiet as a mouse. He wouldn’t say a
word. Not. One. Syllable.
Stiles shoved more hot dog into his mouth, chewing forcefully enough that his
teeth clacked together, and he could have sworn he saw a wince flit over
Derek’s face. His stupidly, attractive, secretive face.
Stiles had to fight every instinct and urge he had, but he kept silent, and
Derek looked unsettled by it every passing second, fidgeting in his seat as if
he were uncomfortable.
“I’m an English major.” Derek finally admitted, his expression unsure and
hesitant. “I like to read. I’ll read anything I can get my hands on, but I
really like old literature.”
Stiles held his breath, for fear that he would somehow break the spell.
“I work at that garage on Oak Street. You know it?”
Stiles was already nodding. “I take my jeep there sometimes.”
“I know.” Derek replied, and Stiles literally could not speak now. “I did the
oil change on it the last time you were there.”
“Well...that was the best damn oil change I’ve ever had.”
Stiles wanted to smack his forehead against the table, repeatedly. Seriously?
The best oil change-
But Derek was grinning. Actually lit up with mirth and amusement. It was a good
look on him.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re really strange?” He asked good-naturedly, and
Stiles found that he was smiling back.
“Every day.”
_________________________
Lunch was officially over. The plates were being tossed, the food was being put
away, and the picnic area was slowly, but surely emptying of the other
students. Derek and Stiles were, of course, among the last to leave.
Derek was in the process of stashing Ollie in his bag, assuring an anxious, on
looking Stiles that nothing would happen to him.
“Come here.” Derek said suddenly, pulling Stiles to him by his hand. A pleasant
electric shock worked it’s way through his skin at each point of contact, and
Stiles couldn’t help but gape at their entwined fingers as he went willingly.
“You’re starting to burn.” Derek informed him, holding up a bottle of sun
block.
“Thanks.” Stiles said in gratitude, accepting the bottle. Derek let his hand
fall, but refused to move away. When Stiles was done gathering a handful of sun
block, Derek took the lotion from him and poured a decent-sized amount into his
own palm. But instead of rubbing it over himself, he began massaging it into
Stiles’ heated flesh.
“Oh-kay.” Stiles stuttered out when Derek’s talented fingers touched him.
“You alright?” Derek asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Yeah.” Stiles lied. “It’s just cold.” Now was not the time to get excited, he
tried telling his dick. Which never listened to reason anyway.
Derek was systematically rubbing lotion all over the parts of Stiles that he
himself could not reach, and Stiles' concentration murdered itself right then
and there.
Like the sad, awkward person he was, he just stood stock-still with sun block
lotion in his hand, eyes at half-mass while Derek Hale rubbed him down.
"You gonna use that?" Derek asked, coming around his front and nodding towards
the white blob in his hand. Stiles nodded at it in slight confusion, and Derek
scooped some up to use gently on Stiles' face.
Stiles had a slight asthma attack while Derek's fingers danced along the bridge
of his nose, down his cheeks and over his jaw.
"You have a lot of moles and freckles." The older man observed, eyes intent on
his task.
"Sensitive skin." Stiles wheezed, and Derek was actually grinning at his
distress, fingers moving up to massage lotion into his ears before tracing down
to his vulnerable neck.
"Do you think you can get the rest, or do you need help?" Derek asked in
amusement as Stiles tried to find his words.
"No, I...I think I got it." He answered, voice sounding like a strangled cat.
Derek nodded and stepped back. He then proceeded to blow Stiles' mind by
rubbing sun block into his own body.
If there was anything that could encourage world peace, it was the sight of
Derek Hale massaging lotion into his unbelievable abdominals. Hands traveling
up his chest to skim dark, peaked nipples. Jesus Christ.
Stiles tried desperately to distract himself, splattering his own handful of
sun block against his flesh and getting it everywhere.
He was in the process of trying to remove it from the trail of hair he had just
beneath his naval when he felt Derek's gaze on him.
When looked up, his breath caught. The sun was back to playing tricks, because
Derek's eyes looked more blue than green, hunger in his stare. The color went
away when he blinked next, and Derek's expression suddenly looked controlled,
yet strained.
"Do you mind getting my back?" He asked, and seriously? Was he trying to give
Stiles a heart attack?
"Sure." Stiles found himself agreeing pathetically. "No problem." Derek held
the lotion back out to him and Stiles took it with trembling fingers.
He poured way too much in his hands, but he just worked with it, gathering up
some at a time and bringing it to Derek's ridiculously ripped shoulders. His
skin was warm to the touch. Almost too warm, but not unpleasant.

Stiles worked over tight skin, absently tracing the swirls in Derek's tattoo,
eliciting a shiver out of the older man. Steadily, he worked his way down to
his lower back, slowly caressing lower. Stiles was so lost in his task, he
didn't realize how low he'd gone until his fingers were slipping under the
waistband of Derek’s swim trunks, grazing the curve of his ass, and whoa, sweet
Jesus on a stripper pole, what was he doing?
Stiles yanked his hand back as if he'd been burned, and Derek had the decency
not to mention it, though there was a slight flush on his cheeks and his
breathing was a little ragged.

Did I do that to him? Stiles couldn't help but wonder, and he beat the smug
feeling that followed into submission. He would not think this way about his
chaperone, damn it. He wouldn't!
He so totally was. And he was so going to hell for it.
"Come on." Derek said slightly breathless, taking the sun block away from
Stiles to shove back into his bag. "You get to pick the next one.”
Once more into the fray, Stiles couldn't help but think.
_______________________
"This is what you want to do?" Derek asked, voice nearly toneless with how
unimpressed he was.
"Looks like fun." Stiles admitted, unable to keep the smile off of his lips.
"It looks like an accident waiting to happen." Derek argued and Stiles scoffed
turning back to the giant pool of water.
A pirate ship that was all kinds of awesome floated in the center surrounded by
floating debris. The ship itself was filled with overflowing fountains of
water, cannons meant to be used as water guns and buckets that spilled at
random, drenching any unfortunate enough to walk by.
"You really need to live a little." Stiles laughed, not waiting for Derek's
witty comeback. He ran into the water, diving beneath the surface when it
became deep enough. The temperature was a shock, but Stiles quickly got used to
it again. Swimming faster, he finally made it to the ship. There was a drenched
rope ladder that Stiles used to climb aboard, and man, did he mention that this
was awesome?
The water was really pouring down on this thing, and Stiles was in the process
of walking the deck, narrowly avoiding running teenagers when he almost slipped
and brained himself. A familiar strong arm wrapped around his waist and Stiles
held on to Derek for dear life.
"Death trap." The elder man whispered in his ear.
"Awesome." Stiles argued back, unable to keep his grin away. Amazingly, Derek
returned the gesture, his smile nearly meeting his eyes.
"Come on." Stiles said, taking Derek's hand in his own. "I wanna make it up to
the Captain's helm."
Derek followed obligingly, making sure Stiles couldn't kill himself in this
highly unstable contraption. The step ladders were drenched and water leaked
out of every available surface. There were slides coming out of the ship’s
sides, winding their way into the pool below.
The helm was located at the very top deck, surrounded by other students in the
midst of a water fight. Stiles wormed his way through with Derek in tow, not
stopping until his hands closed over the helm, looking for all the world as if
he won something.
"I think I've wanted to do this ever since I saw Pirates of the Caribbean."
Stiles admitted, and Derek shook his head.
"You are such a nerd."
"You don't know what you're missing." He replied. "Here." Stiles took Derek's
hands in his own; wondering when he started being such a touchy feely kind of
guy, before placing the older man's hands on the wheel, so he could feel the
awesomeness for himself.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Stiles asked, but before Derek could answer a bucket of
water dropped over his head, drenching him mercilessly.
Stiles was trying to choke back his amusement, but then Derek forcefully wiped
the water from his eyes, glaring spitefully and Stiles just lost it. He doubled
over with laughter as Derek continued to glare.
"Oh man, I'm sorry but that was hilarious."
A high giggle suddenly caught Stiles attention and he couldn't help but look
around. He knew that giggle. It was Lydia's giggle, and where Lydia was so was-
"Hey, Stilinski."
Jackson.
The captain of the lacrosse team was soaked, having been apart of the water
fight Stiles had bypassed earlier. Now that he was paying attention, Stiles
could actually see that Danny was also on the ship, as well as Isaac, Erica,
Boyd, Cora and her partner Heather. Stiles watched as Cora gave Derek a sharp
nod, which the man returned.
"What's up, Jackson." Stiles muttered, trying to disappear into the background.
"Nothing much. We're playing a little game." He informed, moving impossibly
closer. Stiles didn't like him this close. He didn't really like anyone this
close...well, Derek had gotten even closer than this today, and it hadn't
bothered him. But Derek was different!
"Wanna join?" Jackson sounded almost threatening, but Stiles pushed that
thought away.
He wanted to say no, but really, it's not like anything could happen. Not with
their chaperon right here.
"Sure, why not. What are the rules?"
"Don't. Get. Hit."
And suddenly the place erupted in a massive water fight, everyone ducking and
screaming while fighting to drench everybody else.
Stiles was lost in the chaos. One minute Jackson was in front of him and the
next he was bending low, and Stiles felt his ankle yanked out from under him.
"Oumf." He landed hard against the rubbery floor of the deck, seeing stars as
he was almost trampled to death.
"Come on." He heard Derek growl, lifting him up and dragging him over to the
deck's railing. The ship had an actual honest-to-god plank.
Derek was making him walk said plank, which also served as a diving board.
"Jump!" Derek demanded, without actually giving Stiles time to obey the
command. He was pulled overboard, the freezing water reaching up to meet them
both.
Derek never released his hand, holding on tightly as he swam to the surface so
they could both breathe.
There was a giant rubbery whale nearby with its monstrous mouth wide open to
create a shallow pooled resting area. Derek maneuvered them inside where Stiles
did not hide away from Jackson.
"Stupid jackass." Stiles muttered under his breath, but Derek heard him.
"I could send him back to the bus." He offered, but Stiles only shook his head.

"That'll just make him worse."
They both stayed in the whale for awhile, listening to the faraway sounds of
laughter and screaming.
Derek's chest was suddenly pressing into his back.
"What are you doing?" Stiles whispered, feeling the unmistakable sensation of
Derek's fingers in his hair.
"Checking your head for injury. You hit it pretty hard back there."
Stiles held perfectly still while Derek's nimble fingers dance along his scalp.
He winced when Derek pressed against a tender bump.
"Yeah, that smarts. Please don't touch that again." Stiles hissed, tensing when
he heard Derek growling behind him.
"I'm gonna kill Jackson."
"Can I watch?" Stiles asked, trying to lighten the mood. Derek sighed behind
him, fingers falling out of his hair, and Stiles tried not to analyze why
Derek's no-longer-there touch felt like a loss.
“If he messes with you again, and I’m not just talking about today, I mean at
all. You tell me, understand?”
“You mean you’re actually gonna talk to me after today?” Stiles blurted out in
surprise and Derek gave him an almost guilty look.
“Yes, Stiles. I’m going to talk to you after today. Did you think I would just
go back to pretending you didn’t exist?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time someone did that.”

Derek looked taken aback by his brutal honesty, shaking his head as if that
could clear away all that his words implied.
“You’re worth more than that.” Derek declared to Stiles’ utter confusion, and
he watched as the older man swam towards the exit of the whale’s mouth.
“Just promise you’ll tell me if he continues to try anything.”
“I don’t see why-”
Derek glared forcefully.
“-but I promise.”
“Good.” Derek said, holding his hand out for Stiles to take, and he did so
without question. “I get to pick the next one.”
_________________________
The slide that Derek chose involved spongy mats that were placed beneath their
bodies as they rode down side by side to see who made it to the bottom first.
Derek had more weight behind him, and therefore won every time.
Stiles handed off his mat to the next eager kid in line and Derek did the same.
“What now?” Derek asked him, genuinely wanting his input. That did things to
Stiles, because usually no one wanted his input. On anything. Even though he
was always right
“I’m kind of tired.” Stiles admitted and Derek gave him a pointed look.
“You wanna go back in the current pool again, don’t you?”
“You read my mind.” Stiles answered with a smile.
__________________________
Stiles was laid out on his back, eyes closed, happily floating along the
water’s surface as the current pulled him further down the stream. He could
feel Derek right beside him, because Derek was just that close.
“What happened here?” Derek asked somewhere above him, fingers tracing along
the sensitive skin of his side.
Stiles tried not to flail and upend his balance. He knew what Derek was
referring to. There was a circle-shaped bruise near his hip.
“The hazards of lacrosse.” He answered absently, not ready to open his eyes
just yet. They were kind of heavy feeling.
“Did Jackson do it?” Derek demanded, and he sounded as serious as the word
‘serious’ implied.
“Nah, it was Danny actually. Got a little to close to his goal during
practice.”
Derek accepted the explanation, but refused to remove his fingers from his
skin. Stiles absently wondered what they must look like to on-lookers. He was
floating peacefully unaware, practically wrapped up in Derek’s arms while the
older man continued to pet him. Derek could actually get in trouble if someone
saw them like this and told.
Stiles finally opened his eyes, and sure enough, Derek was looking right at
him, as if memorizing his features.
“You need to get out.” Derek said out of nowhere, and Stiles started
spluttering.
“What? Why?”

“Your eyes are red. Come on. I’ll take you to the showers and you can go wash
them with fresh water.”
“Oh. Okay.” Stiles agreed, wondering why he was being so compliant to authority
just because it was Derek’s authority. He wasn’t ever this obedient with his
dad.
Derek swam them to the exit, moving against the current as he pulled Stiles
along. Every bathroom in the park had a row of shower stalls in it, and there
was one right by the current pool.
“Just hold your eyes under the stream for a minute and you’ll be fine. You’re
probably just irritated from all the chlorine.”
Derek shoved him unceremoniously in one of the stalls and followed in after,
locking the door behind them both.
“Um, you don’t have to help, it’s fine-”
“Get in.” Derek interrupted, pulling the shower curtain aside, adjusting the
water to lukewarm before thrusting Stiles under the spray.
Stiles shivered before the water warmed up.
“Geez, warn a guy, would ya?”
Derek pulled the curtain closed in his face, and Stiles did what he was told,
letting the water soothe his heavy eyes.
“Hey.” Stiles called above the spray. “I just wanted to let you know before I
lose my nerve...that I’m glad you didn’t let me sit in a bus all day.”
Stiles took in a deep breath, hearing nothing but silence on the other side, so
he pressed on.
“I’ve had a lot of fun...with you. Because of you and- whoa, hey, what are you
doing?”
Derek had ripped back the curtain, moving in and crowding Stiles into the wall.
“Stiles.” Derek breathed, voice sounding torn. Stiles was pushed even more into
cold tile as Derek rubbed his slick, wet body against his smaller one.
“I tried to leave you alone, I did, but you keep talking and doing these things
and I can’t-”
Derek’s hands encircled his wrists, bringing them up to hold captive by his
head. Stiles held his breath as Derek leaned further against him, nose nuzzling
along the vulnerable skin of his neck.
“Jesus Christ, Derek. What are you-”
“Can’t stop now.” Derek whined, as if begging Stiles to understand. Stiles
trembled because...yup, that was definitely Derek’s tongue licking along the
lobe of his ear. His very underage, minor, ear.
Stiles should stop this. He really should, but-
Fuck, Derek’s teeth felt sharp against his jugular.

This was unbelievable. Completely unrealistic that someone like Derek Hale
would be interested in doing these things to someone like him. Shit like this
just didn’t happen. He had to have fallen asleep in the current pool. He was
probably drowning by now. Or dead. Dead made more sense.
“Stay with me. Stay focused.” Derek mouthed along his collarbone, and Stiles
hips bucked against Derek’s. His cock was hard and heavy, very much on board
with this idea, but that wasn’t what made him whine in the back of his throat.
Derek was hard as well. As hard as a fucking rock and it was all for him!
“I don’t understand.” Stiles moaned, remembering to be as quiet as he possibly
could.
“Damn it, Stiles, you really have no idea, do you? You’ll never know what it is
you do to me. What you make me want to do to you.”
“Huh?”
Derek’s mouth slanted over his quick and sudden, tongue delving inside, over
and over again, claiming him. Stiles was powerless to fight him off, Derek was
just too strong. But he found he didn’t want to struggle. Getting away was the
furthest thing in his mind. He wanted Derek to keep steadily driving him
insane.
“Please.” Stiles whimpered when Derek finally released his mouth. “Please.” He
had absolutely no idea what he was asking for, whether he was begging for more
or for it all to stop. But Derek’s hand was suddenly in his swim trunks, grip
firm and tight around his aching arousal, and that seemed to settle the
decision for him.
“Fuuuck.” Stiles hissed, thrusting into Derek’s slick palm uncontrollably.
“That’s it, Stiles. Just give me everything you have to give. Give me all of
you. That’s all I want.”
It was said as if it wasn’t much to ask for, but even in Stiles’ lust-induced
haze he knew the truth. Derek wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than
everything Stiles had to offer.
He wanted to give it to Derek anyway. Let him have his body, his mind, and his
heart. The man could have his very soul if he asked for it, as long as he kept
stroking...
“Derek.” Stiles whined, fighting against the man’s hold on his wrists. He
wanted to touch him. He wanted to know what Derek’s nipples felt like pinched
between his fingers. What sounds he made when he ran his palms over his ass and
squeezed.
“Hush.” Derek mouthed against his lips, hand going faster over his leaking
cock.
Stiles was seeing bright stars exploding behind his eyes. He’d never been
touched by someone else before. Hell, he’d never even been looked at by someone
else before, not the way Derek was currently looking at him.
“I’m gonna-” Stiles tried to warn, but Derek kept tugging and twisting, fingers
moving up to caress the sensitive head, gathering the pre-come he was leaking
copiously before bringing his hand back down to massage his drawn up balls.
“Oh my god!”
Stiles was coming and Derek was shoving his tongue down his throat while his
hand fucked him through it.
“Oh my god.” Stiles’ wrecked voice repeated on a whisper, knees becoming weak
as he slid down the tiled wall to the floor, Derek following him down as he
continued to stroke.
Stiles’ dick gave one last valiant spurt, toes curling in over-sensitivity as
Derek continued to milk him. It was too much and Stiles had to bat Derek’s
eager hand away, even after Derek seemed reluctant to release him. Stiles was
taking in lungfuls of air, eyes wandering down to Derek’s tented shorts. His
severely tented shorts, and Jesus, what was he feeding that thing, anyways?
“Can somebody please tell me what the hell is going on?” Stiles wheezed, hand
cupping over his heart as if the action could slow it down. Derek shifted until
he was no longer leaning beside Stiles, but rather poised before him,
practically crawling between his sprawled out legs.
“You have no Idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Are we talking today-long, or like...a week-long-”
“Longer.”
“Oh.” Stiles face was steadily becoming even more flushed then it already was.
“If I wanted to sound like a loser I would ask why, but I don’t wanna sound
like a loser so I won’t, um...ask.”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Derek whispered huskily, teeth and
tongue nibbling on Stiles’ ear like it was a delectable treat.
“Oh, okay.” Stiles agreed without a fight, hands coming up to hold on to
Derek’s strong shoulders. He was going to take advantage of the situation now
that he could touch the other man even though Derek didn't want to let him out
of his grip.
“Stiles.” Derek complained as the boy continued to squirm in his hold.
“I wanna...just let me-”
And Stiles suddenly fell forward, eager mouth latching onto one of Derek’s
nipples.
Derek let out a sound that could only be described as pure animal. Stiles took
that as encouragement and sucked harder, teeth closing on the sensitive nub to
tease.
Derek’s fingers tangled in his hair, yanking Stiles off with a wet popping
sound. His mouth was on the boy’s before Stiles could voice a complaint.
“You can’t do that.” Derek breathed hotly into his mouth. “You’re gonna make me
lose control.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Stiles whispered reverently, tongue coming
out to trace Derek’s swollen lips.
“You have no idea.” Derek growled, and Stiles could’ve sworn his irises were
back to flashing blue. He didn’t have time to think about it though. Derek was
yanking his swim trunks off then, and Stiles fought away the feeling of
embarrassment. No one had seen him naked in this kind of context before.
“You don’t have to hide, you’re perfect.” Derek mouthed against his throat, and
Stiles gasped in pleasure. Derek was pulling him into his lap to grind against
the hard on between his legs.
Stiles’ eyes widened, head tipping back as he felt blood rush down into his
cock.
“You’re getting aroused again.” Derek accused, lips sealing over his quivering
Adam’s apple. Stiles choked on his own saliva.
“S’not my fault.” He stuttered, feeling Derek’s toothy grin in his flesh.
“It’s all your fault.”
“Oh my god.” Stiles hissed, because Derek’s fingers were stroking him to
hardness again.
Stiles hands were scrabbling down Derek’s chest, nails catching against hard
skin.
“I have to-” He pulled roughly at the waistband of Derek’s shorts, fighting
with the material until he was able to slip inside and-
“Jesus, are you serious?” Stiles groaned when he felt the length and width of
him. There was just...a lot.
Derek looked at him almost sheepishly, hips swiveling up into Stiles’
inexperienced grip, emerald-green eyes never leaving golden-amber.
Derek was already wet and leaking at the head, and Stiles was utterly
fascinated by that. His fingers played in the sticky mess, swirling it around
and making Derek’s breath hitch in pleasure. Stiles couldn’t help himself. He
brought his fingers to his mouth and tasted him.
“Oh fuck, Stiles.” Derek whimpered softly, mouth shooting up to claim Stiles in
a bruising kiss. Stiles moaned into it and Derek swallowed the noises down.
Derek’s newly released cock was bumping against Stiles’, skin catching skin to
create delicious friction, but it wasn’t enough. At least until Derek’s hand
encircled them both, and Stiles' back was bowing so intensely, Derek had to
wrap his arm around him to keep him from tumbling to the floor.
“Hush.” Derek kept pleading. “I wanna hear you, I do, but we can’t. Not here.
Not yet.”
Stiles tried to be quiet, he really did, but the fact that Derek chose the
words ‘not here, not yet,’ had Stiles brain implying that Derek wanted more
than just a one-off, and that had even more interesting sounds fighting to
escape past his lips.
“Sorry.” Derek whispered into his shoulder. “Have to.” He added by way of
explanation as his hand came up to press over his lips, effectively quieting
him.
Stiles’ eyes were looking heavenward, almost searching for something as his
second orgasm neared, Derek’s talented fingers quickening along their aching
cocks. He was so close.
“Hold on.” Derek growled, jostling Stiles so that he yelped, hands coming down
to the tiled floor so he didn’t collide with it. Derek's own hands gripped his
narrow hips, lifting him off his lap completely. Stiles watched wide-eyed as he
lowered himself towards his standing arousal and-
“Derek! Holy fuck-”
Derek had engulfed his entire length, swallowing around him with a heated
suction that Stiles did not think was possible. His eyes rolled back in his
head, arms trembling as they fought to hold him up. Derek was holding his hips
elevated with one arm, while the other was somewhere between his own legs,
stroking his dick, and fuck Stiles couldn’t hold on anymore.
His arms gave out, but Derek somehow managed to soften his fall, keeping his
hips canted in the air. Stiles couldn’t even warn him, and he was covering his
own mouth as he shot rope after rope of come onto Derek’s eager tongue. Derek
was moaning around him and Stiles vaguely felt a heavy wet splash against his
lower back signaling Derek's release.
Jesus Christ, did he really just lose his virginity to Derek Hale in one of the
shower stalls at a water park. Seriously?
They were both breathing as if they’d run a marathon, and Stiles wasn’t so sure
yet that he wouldn’t need an inhaler.
Derek was looking at him, eyeing him wearily as if he were a colt about to
spook. Stiles was way too exhausted to even entertain the idea.
“Staring is rude.” He mumbled, bringing an arm up over his eyes.
“You’re handling this surprisingly well.”
“Would you rather I scream rape over the fact that you practically jumped me?
Or should I be freaking out that I lost my virginity to someone who isn’t in my
age group?” Stiles removed his arm to stare pointedly at the other man.
“How old are you, anyways?”
“Quite young.” Derek answered grinning, but Stiles only continued to glare.
“I’m twenty-three.”
“And I’m seventeen, so that only makes the age difference by six years. Not to
bad.” Stiles said unconvincingly.
“You were a virgin?” Derek suddenly asked, giving Stiles whiplash with the
change in subject.
“Yeah, you didn’t know? Everyone knows I’m still a virgin. Well...was a
virgin.”
“I had a feeling, but it’s still good to hear.” Derek admitted and Stiles
scoffed.
“Why? Do you have a thing for uncharted territory? Is it like a conquest
fetish?” Stiles demanded, not sure why he was suddenly feeling so defensive and
vulnerable.
“No.” Derek growled, once more crawling up the younger man's spent body. “It’s
like a ‘you’re mine, and mine alone’ kind of thing.” His lips sealed over his
and Stiles couldn’t help but sink into the kiss.
“Oh.” He blurted out, pleasantly surprised.
“Come on.” Derek urged, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Stiles groaned as Derek
pulled him to his shaky feet.
He leaned against the older man, letting him do all the work, washing the come
off their skin, scrubbing a gentle hand over his softened member before tucking
him back into his shorts. Derek was running his fingers through his hair, and
Stiles was placing lazy kisses on his ribs.
“We should go.” Derek breathed into the top of his head, and Stiles sighed
before nodding.
Derek leaned in, turning off the water and wrapping Stiles more securely in his
arms.
“You okay?” He asked, and Stiles took in a deep breath.
“Never better.” He assured, taking Derek’s offered hand and following him back
out again.
________________________
Derek took him to the Mermaid’s lagoon, which was essentially just a giant rock
pool with dozens of waterfalls that concealed caves, nooks, and hiding spots.
It was practically deserted, and that made it perfect.
Derek led him into the water like he knew exactly where they were going.
“I’ve been here once before.” Derek explained, swimming towards a particular
rock formation.
“Not a lot of people know about this, but there’s actually an underwater tunnel
that leads into this cave. Let me show you.”
Stiles watched as Derek dived under, following him into the tunnel and entering
the underwater chamber. They broke the surface and stared at their surroundings
in awe.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
Stiles could only nod. There was a place where the rocks dipped low into the
water, creating an area to sit and rest. He hoisted himself up onto the smooth
surface and spread his legs as Derek swam closer, slotting in-between them.
“What’s happening, Derek?” Stiles whispered, feeling his body start to reawaken
with fevered interest. “I just had you and I already want you again. I want
more. How is that even possible?” He demanded, arching into Derek’s touch as
the other man mouthed along his sensitive abdomen.
“I always want you.” Derek admitted into his flesh. “I crave you all the time
and now you’ll crave me.”
Stiles had no idea what the fuck Derek was even talking about, but he didn’t
care, so long as Derek kept talking.
“Can’t wait anymore, Stiles. Need to claim you. Need to make you mine.”
Stiles was still kind of an awe that Derek wanted anything to do with him, and
the fact that he did made him want to agree to anything. But some part of his
mind was still trying to remain sensible.
“Derek-” He gasped into the near silence, hands coming up to tangle in Derek’s
wet hair. “If somebody sees us-”
“No one will see.” Derek promised, and Stiles knew he couldn’t possibly know
that, so he tried harder.
“But if someone does...Derek, my dad’s the sheriff. He’ll shoot you.”
“Don’t care.” Derek growled, burying his head in Stiles’ lap and Stiles was
keening now, his mewls of pleasure bouncing off the walls and echoing back at
him.
“I care.” Stiles hissed out as a last-ditch effort.
“It’s okay.” Derek bit out into his thigh. “Wont let anyone else see you like
this. Only me. Say it, Stiles.”
“Only you.” Stiles repeated feeling slightly hysterical. What the hell was
happening to his body? He felt overheated, more so then before, and something
odd was going on in his swim trunks. He was leaking, and not just from his
dick, either.
“Derek?” Stiles whined in panic.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s normal.”
“How is this normal?” Stiles demanded, still feeling his lust-filled desire
like a heavy cloud over him.
“It’s your body preparing itself for me. God how I've waited for you.”
And none of that really made sense, but Stiles didn’t feel like arguing so he
just allowed Derek to move him any which way he wanted as he got rid of their
swim trunks for the second time.
Derek pulled him into another kiss as he spread his legs even wider.
“Gonna open you up now.” He rumbled into Stiles lips, and he nodded in
permission. Derek’s fingers traveled up his trembling thighs, dipping in
between his legs, dancing over the sensitive skin of his ass. His fingers were
right there, seeking out his entrance to tease and stroke. He was already
slippery and leaking.
“How-” Stiles moaned, arching into the touch. “What is that?”
“I’ll explain everything after.” Derek promised, reduced to begging. “For now,
just let your body do the work. It knows what to do.”
Again, Stiles obeyed, whimpering when Derek’s fingers pressed more insistently
and two slipped inside without trouble.
“Oh my god.” Stiles cried out, muscles taught like he was a flesh-made statue.
“That’s it. You’re doing fine.” Derek praised, placing sweet kisses on his
cheek. “You’re perfect.”
Derek gripped his hips, pulling him forward until he was barely able to rest on
the rocks. As a result, his fingers sank in deeper and the angle changed.
“Derek! Fuck Derek, what is that!” Stiles practically yelled, body trembling
with it’s pleasure as his cock and ass leaked even more.
“What’s happening to me?”
“Everything is going to be fine.” Derek promised, trying his best to soothe
Stiles without having to go into deeper explanations. “Just let me do this for
you. For us. Just trust me. Let it happen.”
Stiles looked into his eyes, and he somehow knew that Derek wouldn’t allow
anything bad to come of him, so he nodded again, giving his consent, and Derek
continued to plunder his body, fingers thrusting in deeper and faster than
before.
It was like being taken apart and put back together again, only he wasn’t sure
if all his parts would work correctly once Derek was finished with him.
“I’ll never be finished with you.” Derek growled, and Stiles realized he’d been
babbling his thoughts aloud.
“God, you’re ready.” Derek whimpered. “You’re so ready for me.” He brought his
glistening fingers to his swollen mouth and fucking lapped at him, tasting
whatever it was that Stiles was secreting.
“I- I don’t...what is that...I can’t-”
“Hush.” Derek soothed, gripping Stiles’ thighs in his hands, bringing him
steadily into the water till he was wrapped around Derek like ivy.
“Can I fuck you? Please let me.” Derek begged. “Please say I can, Stiles.
Please.”
Stiles should say no. Derek wasn’t giving him any answers, after all, but
Stiles felt like if he denied them both this one thing, he would regret it for
the rest of his life. His body was on fire, and he somehow knew that only Derek
could appease the flames.
“Yes! God Derek, yes! Do it! Please, just do it-”
Derek spread Stiles’ cheeks apart, leaving him open and vulnerable. He lowered
the boy down at the same moment he thrust up.
Stiles’ cry of pleasure filled the chamber, and Derek’s satisfied growl mingled
with it. He was all the way inside to the hilt, and Stiles’ eyes were
overflowing in awe.
It felt...like everything and nothing he’d ever felt before.
It felt whole, and complete, and alive.
In that moment, he knew exactly who he was. Exactly who Derek was, and he knew
that he didn’t have to wait any longer. But then Derek started to move and all
sensible thought vanished.
“Wanted to do this.” Derek gritted. “Since the moment I saw you.”
“We met when I w-was twelve-”
“I know.” Derek whined, teeth grazing Stiles’ neck. His teeth felt longer and
sharper than they should.
Derek was pounding into him, disturbing the water’s surface and making it
splash in every direction. Stiles moaned as he was continually opened up and
invaded. Derek pushed him into each thrust, forcing him to meet him halfway as
he assaulted his prostate.
Derek was hiding his face in Stiles chest, and Stiles kept pulling at him,
trying to get a look into his eyes.
“Derek, come on. Wanna see.” Stiles begged, and Derek allowed himself to be
pulled.
Stiles breath left him on a sharp exhalation.
“Your eyes-” He whispered as Derek continued to fuck up.
“All day your eyes have been changing.” He was looking into glowing pale blue,
watching as it turned into a deeper sapphire. But it wasn’t just his eyes
though. His teeth were elongated like a creature out of a myth.
Derek looked so scared, as if he were baring his soul and was so sure Stiles
wouldn’t accept it.
“What are you?” Stiles breathed in awe, hands coming up the caress just beneath
his lids, fingers moving down to trace the sharpened fangs.
“I’m yours.” Derek answered, and that was it. Stiles was coming with a shocked
cry threaded in pleasure. Derek’s wet hand worked him through it, forcing more
of his release out of him than before.
“God, you’re beautiful like that.” Derek groaned into his collarbone. “I want
to put that look on your face all the time.”
“Yes.” Stiles heard his voice respond. “Want that too. Don’t stop. Keep going.”
He couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“Yeah?” Derek asked, genuinely pleased. “You like feeling me inside you?
Filling you up, never letting you go?”
“Yes!” Stiles cried, head thrashing back and forth. “Yes, please! Need it!”
“I know you do. I know.” Derek’s pace sped up, and Stiles whole body was
arching into the rough thrusts his lover was giving him.

“I need to bite you, Stiles. Please let me.” Derek was babbling. “It wont hurt,
and It wont be deep, not yet. Please, will you let me? I have to-”
Stiles’ hands were grabbing at Derek anywhere he could, and he instinctually
felt the urge to soothe.
“Anything you need, Derek. Anything.” He promised, and Derek was pulling him
closer, teeth scraping over his jugular before moving on to his shoulder. His
tongue licked over the area as his hips continued to ram in.
“Do it!” Stiles cried, and Derek’s teeth bit down, piercing flesh.
“Hhng!” Stiles wailed, black spots dancing in front of his vision. He was
coming again, and Derek was growling in beastly satisfaction as he continued to
wrack pleasure from Stiles’ body.
“Derek.” Stiles’ begged on a voice-roughened whisper. “Please. I need it.” He
was out of his mind. Didn’t even know what he was asking for.
“I know, love. I’ll give it to you. Just wanted to get you loose.”
Stiles was lost to Derek’s rhythm, his body ready to crumble if not for Derek’s
strong grip holding him up. His slick passage continued to make obscene, wet
squelching noises as Derek thrust in forcefully.
“Fuck Stiles! You drive me crazy. The way you taste, smell, feel. You’re so
tight. So good for me.”
Stiles whimpered.
“It’s okay. Gonna give you what you want. What you need.”
Stiles let out a desperate whine. Derek’s cock was getting hotter and harder
inside him. He was filling out at the base, getting bigger.
“What are you?” Stiles whispered again, eyes rolling up as Derek became
impossibly huge inside him.
He could feel burning ropes of come shooting into him as Derek continued to
rut, and Stiles’ hips jerked up to meet Derek’s, forcing him even deeper
inside, the head of his dick rubbing mercilessly against his sweet spot.
Stiles screamed, and passed out.
______________________
He woke up to Derek’s glowing blue eyes boring into his own.
“Stiles?” He whispered in concern, fingers smoothing out his hair. “Are you
okay?”
Stiles groaned, skin irritated by the rock surface beneath him. Derek must’ve
pulled them both out of the water.
“Can’t move my legs.” Stiles admitted, answering with the first thing that came
to mind. His legs did feel like jelly, and Derek was still very much on top of
him. Still very much hard and inside him.

“Uh, what-”
“I can’t pull out yet. Not until my knot goes down.”
“Your...knot. Like...dogs have a knot?”
“Or wolves.” Derek said uncertainly, eyeing Stiles with that same fear he saw
earlier.
“So...you’re a wolf then?”
Derek’s eyes glowed even brighter, pleased at how fast Stiles caught on.
“You might know my kind better as werewolves.”
“Werewolves. You don’t say.” Stiles watched as Derek forced his teeth to shrink
back down to his blunt human ones.
“So, if you’re a werewolf, what am I? Cause I know my body didn’t use to
secrete lubricant until today.”
“You weren’t ready for me until today.” Derek said cryptically, and Stiles
raised an eyebrow at him.
“You’re what we call a mate, Stiles. My mate. In the wild, wolves are
monogamous, and they mate for life. I’m the same.”
“So you’ve been waiting for me for-”
“Five years.”
“Whoa.” Stiles murmured, feeling the need to lighten the mood. “Hope it was
worth the wait.”
Derek was very serious in his reply.
“It was worth every second.”
Stiles throat felt like someone had rubbed it down with sandpaper. His heart
was jack hammering in his chest and even though he felt like he could barely
breathe, he pulled Derek down to him and licked his way into his mouth.
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” He whispered against
Derek’s lips. “Now how long until your knot goes down?”
Derek was chuckling at Stiles’ lack of tact, shifting to test out the give.
Stiles moaned and his lids fluttered as Derek’s member moved inside him.
“I can think of something to do while we wait.” Derek offered lecherously, and
Stiles wrapped his legs around the older man’s waist. He could definitely get
on board with that.
______________________
When nine o’clock finally rolled around, Derek forced them to leave their cave-
like sanctuary. They were almost late getting on the bus, and that would’ve
looked all kinds of bad that the chaperone couldn’t follow his own rules. They
had already skipped out on dinner after all.
Derek once again pulled out his clipboard, checking off names as he went down
the line.
“Sit in the front row, by yourself.” Derek whispered to Stiles as he passed,
and Stiles felt a pleased blush work its way over his skin.
Derek checked everyone off and hollered, “Asses on the bus!”
Everyone scrambled up the stairs, chatting and laughing as they filed in.
Cora gave him an odd smile as she walked by, grasping his hand with a firm
squeeze.
“Welcome to the pack.” She said mischievously, ignoring Derek’s pointed glare
and Stiles confused frown. He shrugged it away, climbing up the stairs to sit
in the front row like he was told. Derek sat down next to him just as the bus
began to roll forward.
Stiles watched as he dug through his bag, pulling out Ollie and holding him out
in an offering. Stiles gratefully accepted.
“So...” He started, staring into the stuffed animal’s plastic blue eyes, which
reminded him of Derek’s now that he thought about it.
“So...” Derek repeated, looking at Stiles with a hint of worry.
“We probably shouldn’t tell my dad right away. At least until I turn eighteen.”
Derek’s shoulders visibly sagged in relief and he smirked. “Agreed.”
Stiles leaned his head against the window, wishing it could be Derek’s
shoulder, but someone would see.
“I want you to meet my family.” Derek said suddenly. “You already know Cora.
But I want you to meet my other siblings. My uncle, and my mom and dad.”
“Sounds like a big family.” Stiles whistled.
“It’s one of the biggest packs around.” Derek said with pride and Stiles
couldn’t help but feel bubbling curiosity.
“Are there a lot? Of packs, I mean.”
“Small ones, here and there, but none like ours.”
Stiles grinned enjoying the way Derek’s face lit up when he talked about his
family. He dropped his hand onto the seat between them, palm up. Derek took the
invitation without hesitating, his fingers intertwining with Stiles’ away from
the prying eyes of others.
“I can’t wait to meet them.” He said truthfully, and Derek’s smile was sincere.
“They’re gonna love you.”
“Like you do?” Stiles snorted jokingly, but even though he was smiling, Derek
was serious.
“Not even close, but it’ll come in a near second place.”
Stiles gawked at him, and Derek pushed his mouth closed. “You should get some
rest. You look exhausted.”
“It’s been a long day.” Stiles answered, smirking down at there hands.
“A good day?” Derek asked cheekily, and Stiles gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“A very good day.”
End Notes
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