Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/716276.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/
      Original_Male_Character
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Original_Male_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Infidelity, Underage_Drinking, Marking, Scent_Marking, Age_Difference,
      Dirty_Talk, Oral_Sex, Anal_Sex, Deepthroating, Rimming, Lap_Sex,
      Comeplay, No_Lube, Spit_Kink, Felching, Snowballing, everyone_is_kinda
      awful, Mildly_Dubious_Consent
  Series:
      Part 1 of Tuck_Me_In
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-11 Words: 5002
****** My Skin Went Sour Long Ago ******
by Robomantic
Summary
     Stiles catches Derek cheating on him and and has revenge sex with the
     first (and worst) person he sees.
     No one makes any good decision in the entirety of this fic.
Notes
     I kinda consider Turning_Tables to be the short porny story of how
     Derek and Stiles got together, but I decided not to make it part of
     the series just because it really doesn't fit with the rest of the
     series. Still, you can go read that for kicks and then come over here
     and get your heart broken lol.
     Title (and the title of the series) is from Tuck_Me_In by Alkaline
     Trio.
     If you're triggered or easily upset by infidelity then this fic isn't
     for you.
     Also gotta give a warning for Peter being a major creeper uncle and
     trying (and I suppose succeeding) to take advantage of an upset
     Stiles. Alcohol is involved. Stiles is pretty aware of what's going
     on, but he's still an upset teenager so yeah. That might make this a
     little dubious consent-wise? Stiles gives consent, as much as an
     upset teenager under the influence of alcohol can.
     If you're all good with that, then onward to the smut. I need stop
     looking at this fic and let it out in the world, for better or worse.
See the end of the work for more notes
Derek Hale is not a person who does relationships. In fact, when it comes to
relationships Derek is pretty much damaged beyond repair. In other words,
Stiles should have fucking known better.
Only a month ago, Derek and Stiles started what Stiles would have called a
relationship. Derek wouldn’t have called it that, but Stiles would have. That
was the first clue as to how naïve Stiles was. To be fair, Derek was his first
and he was seventeen. He was allowed a certain amount of naiveté.
The whole thing had happened so gradually that they were both equally surprised
when it actually became something. At some point, Derek kept finding more
reasons to touch Stiles, whether it was leaning on him when he probably didn’t
need to or yanking him around by his arm and slamming him against a wall for
almost no reason. Stiles was aware of how unhealthy that was, but Derek was
undeniably sex on a stick and, well, blame the rest on hormones if you want.
Point was, if Derek needed to make up excuses to press him up against a wall,
Stiles wasn’t complaining.
Then the random touching got decidedly gentler; a hand on Stiles’s shoulder, a
thigh pressed against his, Derek's arm behind him on the couch. The eye rolling
was becoming a little friendlier. Smiles actually happened from time to time.
Derek brought Stiles fast food once, totally unprompted. By then it didn’t even
seem strange anymore.
One day Derek made up some reason to climb in through Stiles’s window and what
started as a petty argument magically turned into Stiles pinned to a bed
instead of a wall. Suddenly, Stiles was learning how to kiss a guy who
sometimes had fangs and how it felt to no longer be a virgin. So… fun stuff.
Stiles had honestly expected it to stop after that night, but then Derek came
back the next night and the one after that and fucked him in every position and
manner conceivable. So they started a pattern that consisted of Derek sneaking
in whenever Stiles’s dad wasn’t home and initiating clandestine contact anytime
they were together in public. The fast food thing started happening hand in
hand with movies and what might pass as cuddling. It was almost like there was
real actual dating going on.
Once the pack found out (and all gave Stiles their various conflicting
observations on the situation) there wasn’t any reason to keep anything secret
from them. So Stiles convinced himself that it was officially a relationship.
Which meant he was really not expecting to find Derek fucking a person who was
very clearly not him against the side of an old subway car.
Stiles really should have known by then that what he expected and what he ended
up with were usually two very different things.
Stiles didn’t stay to watch or anything. All he saw was the guy he had
convinced himself was his boyfriend, the guy who took his virginity and watched
two season of Buffy with him (despite his complaining about it constantly at
first) sweating and grunting and fucking some guy Stiles didn’t know from Adam
into oblivion. He headed back to his jeep without saying a word. He knew that
Derek had seen him, heard him, and probably smelled him. He might have even
heard Derek yelling his name as he walked away. He could have been imagining it
though because, even if Derek yelled for him, he certainly didn’t try to follow
after him or stop him. And, God, despite the fact that Stiles desperately
didn’t want to see his face, he really wished Derek would come after him. He
just wanted to know that he cared at all.
Stiles leaned against his jeep and tried to pull himself together. He was doing
his best to choke back the tears that were trying to fight through so he could
drive home. If he started crying he knew he wouldn’t stop and he’d end up
giving himself a damn panic attack a stone’s throw away from where… things were
happening. So he didn’t exactly notice right away that Peter was the one who
ended up finding him.
“I’d ask what’s wrong, but I think I have an idea,” Peter said, leaning against
the jeep next to Stiles. Stiles closed his eyes and pretended he couldn’t hear
him. Peter’s smartass comments were pretty much the last thing he needed at
that moment.
“Hey, don’t be like that. I know as well as anyone that my nephew isn’t the
most sensitive of other people’s feelings. Let me drive you home at least? I'm
pretty sure you'd end up in a wreck in the state you're in,” Peter said trying
his best to look sympathetic. The overall effect was more jarring than
comforting.
Stiles’s first instinct was to tell Peter to go fuck himself, but then Derek
was (finally) storming out like he had something to say and Stiles couldn’t
help think that it had taken him that long because he had finished before
deciding to come after him.
Stiles felt sick. He just wanted to get out… and taking off with Peter would
royally piss Derek off, maybe even scare him a little. It was a little pathetic
and childish, but he just wanted to get some kind of reaction out of him. He
wanted to know he still had the ability to hurt Derek the way Derek had hurt
him.
“Fine, let’s go. Now," Stiles said and tossed Peter the keys to his jeep. Peter
pulled away before Derek could say a word about it. Stiles didn’t turn back to
look at him.
Stiles received a text from Derek almost immediately.
What are u doing with peter? Go to yr house. Be there in 5 mins, need to talk.
There was no way Stiles was going home to find Derek waiting in his room or
tapping on his window. Fuck that. Fuck that sideways with an ice cream cone. It
was too soon. Way too soon. Hell, if he were a werewolf he would probably still
be able to smell the fresh aroma of sex on Derek. Somehow that thought turned
the sad ache in his chest into a white hot pulse of rage.
“I don’t want to go home,” Stiles told Peter. Peter gave him a sick grin of
smug satisfaction that almost made Stiles change his mind. Then he imagined
Derek sitting at his house wondering what Stiles was off doing with his
psychotic uncle of all people. Whether it pissed him off or just worried him,
Stiles didn’t really care. He had moved beyond pissed at that point and well
into the realm of vengeful and hateful.
“Well I can take you to where I’m staying. We could have a drink?” Peter asked,
still feigning sweetness when Stiles suspected he was doing this to upset Derek
as much as he was. After all, Derek had killed him once. Then again, there
could have been plenty of other reasons Peter Hale might want to get a
seventeen year old boy alone and drunk, but Stiles’s mind just wasn’t there
yet.
Apparently Peter was staying at a chain motel on the edge of Beacon Hills.
Unlike Derek, he didn’t seem keen on staying in train depots or the burnt
remains of the Hale house. Peter led him up to the door and pulled out the room
key when Stiles had a sudden realization.
“Fuck. I’m just going to have to deal with Derek either way. He’ll probably be
on his way here as soon as he realizes I’m not going home. I mean, he knows I’m
with you,” Stiles said, feeling defeated. If he was going to have to look Derek
in the face either way, he figured he might as well do it from the comfort and
relative safety of his own home.
“Yes, but he doesn’t know where I’m staying. Shouldn’t be a problem,” Peter
said with a smile. Stiles really should have known better, he should have seen
how bad things were going to go. Maybe he did and just didn’t care anymore.
Stiles thought that was exactly what he was looking for at that moment. Like
any stupid pissed off teenager, he was looking to self-destruct.
The motel room looked nearly untouched. The only sign that Peter had even been
in the room before was the overnight bag sitting at the foot of the bed.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Peter said with a predatory smile as he walked
over to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle.
“Looks like all I’ve got is whiskey and water. I’m guessing you’re not much of
a whiskey drinker, though,” Peter said and Stiles saw it for the challenge it
was.
“Trust me, this would not be my first time drinking whiskey," Stiles scoffed,
remembering the times he'd stolen drinks from his dad's stash of Jack, "If you
don’t mind providing a minor with alcohol, that is.”
“If you think that providing alcohol to minors is where I draw my moral line,
you obviously have not met me,” Peter said and Stiles found himself remembering
exactly who it was he had let take him to some cheap motel to get him drunk.
This was not a good idea and yet he still didn’t try to leave.
“You know, I may not be your favorite person, but I really don’t think you
deserve the way my nephew treats you. I wasn’t lying when I told you I liked
you,” Peter said, sitting down next to Stiles and handing him the bottle of
whiskey. No mixers, no chasers, no glass. He was hardly being subtle about his
intentions. Peter was giving him every opportunity to say no and take off, but
he didn’t. Instead he took a swig of the whiskey and did his best to not choke
on the hot burn traveling down his throat.
“You liking me doesn’t say much for your taste,” Stiles said once he caught his
breath.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Peter said. He was already handing him the bottle
again and Stiles remembered that he would be drinking alone. Werewolves
couldn’t get drunk. He probably should have been wondering why Peter had the
bottle in the first place, but instead he shrugged and took another swig, this
time not bothering to pass the bottle back to Peter. Peter didn’t seem to mind.
“In fact, I would say there are plenty of things to like about you, Stiles. For
instance, you’re a lot smarter than you get credit for. So am I for that
matter. So since we’re both intelligent people, how about you tell me the real
reason you came here with me,” Peter said. Stiles’s stomach froze and he took
another swig from the bottle to give himself a little time to think.
“Honestly? I knew that if Derek saw me go off with you, he’d freak out. I want
him to wonder where I am and what I’m doing. He doesn’t trust you,” Stiles said
and shrugged. He didn’t really care if Peter liked his answer, he was asked for
honesty so he gave it.
“He shouldn’t,” Peter said and Stiles felt a chill go up his spine.
“Why’s that?” Stiles finally responded when he felt the warm flush of a buzz
spread through his body and chase away the chill. He refused to give a fuck
about what encouraging Peter might lead to at that point. He kept picturing
Derek’s body pressed up against some stranger and the way his hands were
gripping the guy’s hips hard enough to leave bruises and the thought made him
sick. He wanted to do something that would make Derek feel the same way. No,
scratch that, he wanted him to feel worse. Peter was a surefire bet and it was
obvious he was only too willing to help Stiles out.
“Because I wouldn’t trust me if I were him. Do you have any idea the things I
want to do to you right now?” Peter asked, his voice suddenly so close and hot
in Stiles’s ear. He felt a different kind of heat hit his body and he had to
give Peter credit. He knew how to work the sexy villain angle and at the moment
it was working pretty well.
“Tell me,” Stiles said, almost quiet enough that if he weren’t a werewolf,
Peter might have asked him to repeat himself. He heard though. Stiles could
almost feel him smirking, even without seeing his face.
“Well first I want to taste that pretty mouth of yours. Then I want to mark up
your perfect skin so that Derek knows the moment he sets eyes on you. I want
him to know that I got to taste you and touch you and make you mine. I want to
hear you moan my name."
Stiles felt the blood rush to his cock and cursed the fact that his body had no
sense of right or wrong. Peter wasn’t hiding his devious intentions and, not
only was Stiles not arguing, he was enjoying it. He wanted it.
Stiles took another large gulp of whisky and grimaced. No turning back now, he
supposed. He got up to set the bottle on the desk, aware of Peter’s eyes
following his every move. He turned back and instead of sitting back down on
the bed, he straddled Peter’s lap. He threw his arms over Peter’s shoulders and
leaned in close to his ear.
“Do it then,” Stiles whispered and in an instant Peter was flipping him over to
pin him to the bed. If he thought Derek was animalistic at times, it was only
because he’d never experienced Peter first hand. He kissed almost savagely, his
hands gripping Stiles tight and his body pressing greedily against him. Stiles
gasped when he felt Peter’s thigh slide up between his to grind against his
cock.
“Mmm, you’re so responsive. I knew you’d be like this,” Peter growled in his
ear. He felt another shiver and ignored it in favor of the hot wave of pleasure
racing through him. Stiles turned his head and exposed his neck, knowing from
experience that that it would spark something in the wolf side of him. He
wasn’t wrong. Peter kissed his way down Stiles's jawline to suck and bite down
his jugular. Stiles groaned at the pressure of his teeth, feeling tender
bruises blossoming under his skin. Peter wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted
to mark him. He knew he’d regret those marks at some point, but at that moment
he didn’t care. He pulled Peter in closer to his neck.
“More. I want that fucker to know exactly what we did when he sees me,” Stiles
growled, letting his anger and lust fuel him.
“Wow, who knew you had such a vengeful streak? I have to admit, it’s a good
look on you,” Peter chuckled before leaning in to give him another dark hickey
on his neck.
When Peter admired your dark side, something was fucking wrong. The knot in
Stiles's stomach tightened, but the sick feeling of guilt was still more
comfortable than the feeling he got when he remembered the sound of flesh
slapping against flesh and the sweat gleaming on Derek’s back.
Stiles distracted himself from the panic rising up in his chest by grinding
down on Peter’s lap. He wanted the sensations in his body to drown out the
noise in his head. Peter moaned into his neck and squeezed his hips. Stiles was
glad he seemed to be able to control himself and keep the claws put away.
Peter’s normal human fingernails digging into his flesh were already sharp
enough to make him wince.
Stiles reached down and started lifting up Peter’s shirt. Peter was more than
happy to cooperate and took his hands off long enough to pull the shirt over
his head. Stiles had to admit it, for an older guy Peter was incredibly hot.
Apparently being built like an Adonis ran in the family. Stiles realized he was
comparing Peter to Derek in his head and had to fight down another wave of
nausea at the very thought of him. Instead he focused on the parts of Peter
that were different; like the hair on Peter’s torso, his eyes that were vivid
blue rather than that ever-shifting pale green, the freckles on his tan
shoulders, and a confidence that ran a lot deeper than the thin layer of
bravado that cloaked Derek’s vulnerability.
Stiles felt Peter’s hand reach up to trace the marks he’d left on his already
sore neck. He grabbed Peter's hand away from the tender skin of his neck.
Stiles pulled Peter's fingers to his lips, and sucked on them, his mouth
desperate for the distraction. It was possible he had a bit of an oral fixation
problem, but Peter certainly didn’t seem to mind based on the hungry look in
his eyes.
“Is this your subtle way of saying something?” Peter asked, his voice low and
breathy.
“Like what?”
“Like you want my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” That was another way
Peter was different. Derek had never been so vocal. Stiles was kind of
surprised at how much he was enjoying the dirty talk. Then again, he had always
been a verbal person.
“Something like that,” Stiles said reaching down to undo Peter’s pants. Before
he could get there Peter grabbed Stiles and pulled him with him as he scooted
back onto the bed and laid back. Once he was apparently comfortable he let
Stiles go back to trying to undo his pants.
Stiles kissed and licked and bit his way down Peter’s body as he undid his
jeans. He knew enough about werewolves and their freaky enhanced senses to know
that Derek would smell him all over his uncle. He wanted to mark Peter as much
as he wanted Peter to mark him. He wanted to make both their bodies into big
signs that told Derek two could play at that game. Peter knew exactly what he
was doing, too.
“Fuck, you don’t do anything by halves do you?”
Stiles ignored the question and opted to focus on teasing and tasting the skin
underneath Peter’s navel, tracing through the trail of hair there. As he
focused his energy on teasing moans and curses out of him, Peter’s hand rested
on the back of his neck, but he didn’t push. He seemed content to let Stiles
have his fun and Stiles decided patience like that deserved to be rewarded. He
was surprised at how easy it was to enjoy himself when he just accepted the
wrongness of the whole situation.
Stiles reached into Peter’s pants and pulled his cock free, resisting the urge
to mentally size him up against Derek. Instead he leaned forward and licked
him, feeling the heavy weight of it against his tongue. Peter let out a low
groan and he continued. He slowly sucked Peter's length into his mouth, letting
his tongue swirl slowly around the head. He could taste the salty precome
gathering at the tip of Peter’s cock and he licked at his slit desperate for
another taste.
“That mouth--fuck. Keep going,” Peter said between breaths. Stiles took him
deep in his mouth, enjoying the feeling of the cock in the back of his throat
even if it made him gag just the tiniest bit. He didn’t worry about getting
messy, in fact he relished it. He let precome and saliva drip from his mouth
until Peter’s cock was soaked.
“You must really want me to come. You want him to smell it on you, don’t you?”
Peter asked, his fingers tightening around the back of Stiles’s neck. He was
definitely getting closer, so Stiles stopped and pulled back.
“No, I want you to fuck me. I want him to know you were inside me. I want him
to know your cock stretched me wide and filled me up,” he said feeling his
stomach flip, not unpleasantly, from the dirty things coming out of his mouth.
“Goddamn, I think I can do that. I have some lube in my bag-”
“No, no lube. Use your spit and your tongue, but I don’t want lube,” He said.
He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want it. Maybe he was being a masochist or
maybe it was because lube might cover up the distinct scent of Peter. He
thought it was honestly a combination of him hating both himself and Derek at
that moment and if he could punish both of them at the same time, so be it.
Either way, it wasn’t happening.
"Yeah, well I do. If you wanted me to rim you first all you had to do was ask,
but when the time comes, I'd rather not rub my dick raw in your ass," Peter
said, a stern look in his eyes that told Stiles there wasn't much use arguing
with him.
"Fine, I still want your tongue in me," Stiles conceded and Peter didn’t need
to be told twice. In an instant, Stiles was flipped over onto his back. Peter
pushed his knees back.
“Hold them right there, just like that,” Peter said before leaning down to take
Stiles’s cock in his mouth. He took his time licking and sucking as much of him
as he could before taking his balls into his mouth one at a time. Stiles
groaned and clutched at Peter's hair shamelessly. He knew he couldn’t hurt
Peter or direct him any way he didn’t want to go, so he didn’t bother holding
back.
Stiles let out a gasp as Peter’s tongue traveled down to his perineum and then
lapped at his hole. He pushed his tongue in a little further, probing inside as
he clutched at Stiles’s hips to bring him down further onto his tongue. That
was definitely a new sensation for Stiles. He made no effort to hold back his
moans, especially when Peter decided his tongue had prepped him enough to take
a finger. He felt the burning stretch as almost a relief after the way Peter’s
tongue had been teasing his hole.
“Fuck… I need more," Stiles groaned, unable to keep his hips from bucking back
into Peter’s finger.
“Goddamn, I don’t know how the hell Derek found time to cheat on you. You’re a
greedy little bastard,” Peter said, his voice a low rumble. Stiles was fairly
certain he was trying to piss him off because the angrier he got the dirtier
things got. Peter grabbed a bottle of lube from his overnight bag and slicked
up his fingers before sliding two in, licking and biting at Stile's ass as he
fingered him open. Stiles kept waiting for another finger, anything, but Peter
was endlessly patient. Stiles, however, was not.
“Fuck this,” Stiles said and when he pulled away from Peter and went to shove
him down on the bed, Peter let him. He straddled Peter’s hips and grabbed his
cock to line it up with his hole. He was going to take what he wanted. Fuck
Peter and his games. Stiles lowered himself down on Peter’s cock maybe a little
too quickly and didn’t bother to hold back from grimacing.
“You look like such a little slut right now. You want it so damn bad, don’t
you? Just fucking yourself on my cock,” Peter said and Stiles’s stomach did
flips yet again at the complete filth coming out of Peter’s mouth.
“Keep talking,” Stiles pleaded and started rocking his hips.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to fuck that tight teenage ass of
yours? I’ve been fucking waiting for it. Now I’ve got you right where I want
you, riding my cock like a pro,” Peter said, trying to control his voice as
Stiles lifted himself up and slammed back down onto him. Stiles’s cock was
leaking precome. He smeared it against Peter’s stomach and the thought of Derek
smelling him there made his body thrum with adrenaline.
“God, I’m thinking about Derek smelling me all over you and it’s turning me on
way more than it should. I swear to all things holy, if you even think about
taking a shower I’ll cut you in half myself,” Stiles said, his words
occasionally grunted as Peter was now thrusting up to meet him halfway.
“Wouldn't dream of it. I think he should practically fucking taste it in the
air, don’t you?” Peter said and thrust into Stiles nice and deep at just the
right angle.
“Yes, right there. Harder,” Stiles moaned and Peter complied.
“Come for me. I want you to shoot all over me,” Peter moaned, giving Stiles’s
cock a few lazy strokes. That was all the encouragement he needed with the way
Peter’s cock was practically milking his prostate at that point. He felt his
whole body clench as hot spurts of come shot onto Peter’s torso. He paused for
a moment stuck by a sudden urge. He started rubbing his come into Peter’s skin
and Peter growled so loud he felt it through his entire body.
Peter pulled Stiles off his lap and stood up.
“Get on your hands and knees and hold on to the head board,” Peter ordered. His
voice was so wrecked it startled Stiles. Then he remembered Peter still had yet
to come. Stiles did as he asked and Peter came up behind him, wasting no time
in spreading Stiles’s cheeks and fucking his tongue into the boy’s used and
stretched hole. Peter actually spit in him to add as much lubrication as
possible and it felt so dirty Stiles actually shuddered. When Peter decided he
was ready he wasted no time in sliding his cock home.
Everything felt so fucking sensitive after he came, but Stiles was enjoying the
way Peter was gripping his hips so tight he was convinced there would be
bruises. He remembered the way Derek had been gripping a stranger the same way
and it just egged him on further. Stiles started clenching his ass around Peter
in rhythm with his thrusts. He definitely would have regretted it if Peter had
gone along with his idea to not use lube. Saliva only got you so far and Stiles
already felt like he was going to be sore for days as it was. He told Peter as
much which earned him a nice hard thrust and a slap on the ass.
“I’m gonna come in your tight little ass, you ready?” Peter grunted and Stiles
could tell by his voice and the way his thrusts were slowly losing their
rhythm, almost frantic, that he was close.
“Fuck, do it. Fill me up,” Stiles moaned and with a couple jerking thrusts he
felt Peter twitch inside him as he blew his load. He let out an animalistic
growl and stayed there for a moment, leaning over Stiles’s back.
“Stay right there,” Peter said when he finally found his voice again. Stiles
clung to the headboard and felt Peter pull out with a wet noise. Peter didn’t
move away though. He slid his fingers into Stiles’s ass and stretched him open
a little, coaxing the come out of his ass. He felt it drip down his crack to
his thighs and heard Peter muttering curses as he watched. He started using his
come slick fingers to spread the mess around and rub it into Stiles’s skin the
way Stiles had done to him. Stiles let out what could only be described as a
squeak as Peter leaned in to lick some of his own come from Stiles's ass,
thrusting his tongue in to get as much as he could.
Stiles had a feeling he knew what Peter had planned when he pulled him around
to kiss him. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened his mouth and tasted
come. He licked it from Peter’s mouth eagerly. Stiles was pretty sure that
ranked as the dirtiest thing he had ever done up to that point.
Stiles finally pushed Peter away and collapsed backward onto the bed to let
what he had done sink in. It was definitely one of those moments where he was
suddenly seeing himself in the cold light of day. After all the fun endorphins
had died away it was a lot more obvious how very bad and wrong the whole thing
was. He decided to save the shame and regret for later and opted for getting
off the bed and as far away from Peter as was possible within the confines of
the motel room.
Stiles wouldn’t deny that it was some of the hottest and dirtiest sex he’d ever
had, but Peter was still Peter. Peter was still fucked up Peter, Derek was
still fucked up Derek, and Stiles was still fucked up Stiles.
They wiped up the messiest parts, but neither of them showered. Stiles was
suddenly desperate to scrub himself raw, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to
let Peter know that he wanted to wimp out now. Despite the fact that he knew
Peter would be showering the moment he left anyway.
Peter talked a tall talk (they both had), but Derek was the alpha now and the
same guy who’d slit his throat and buried him under the Hale house. They got
dressed in complete silence, neither of them bothering to look at each other.
They had both gotten what they needed and it seemed there was a silent
agreement between them that this was over and done with.
Stiles left without a word of goodbye and climbed into his jeep. Sure enough,
when he pulled up in his driveway Derek was waiting on his front step, his head
cradled in his hands. Stiles winced as he stepped out of the car and saw
Derek’s head jerk up. He felt a little flip in his stomach and a rush of
adrenaline, and anticipated the blow up.
End Notes
     Check out my_tumblr over here. Pretty much a Teen Wolf and
     Supernatural fandom blog, if you're into that sorta thing :)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!